The new semester had barely begun when the principal announced that all student guardians had to attend a school-wide classroom clean-up. I saw my chance and approached the principal privately to explain my situation. “Principal, my parents have very specialized jobs. They truly can’t make it.” To my surprise, the principal slammed his lesson plan down on his desk and roared at me, “Every other parent can make it, but yours are ‘special’? You wrote ‘confidential’ for their profession on the enrollment form, and now you’re making excuses for them not showing up? You don’t take me seriously at all!” He then laid down a harsh ultimatum: “If your parents don’t come, then we won’t keep you in this class!” I was utterly stunned. The regulations of their classified agency mean they can’t just go out in public! But when my parents actually showed up at the school, the principal’s attitude instantly changed. 1. Principal Vanderberg walked into the classroom, a grim look on his face, and slammed his lesson plan onto the podium. “For the new semester, I asked guardians to come to school for a clean-up. Only one student’s guardians didn’t show. What, is it embarrassing to sweep a floor at school? Or do you think your child’s grades are so good they don’t need to do ‘menial’ tasks?” His voice rose. “Let me tell you, in my class, the way guardians treat the school is how I treat their child.” Guardians coming to school for clean-up was supposed to be voluntary, but Principal Vanderberg was image-conscious. He felt the more guardians attended, the better it reflected on him as a principal, so he demanded all guardians must be present. “Lily Adams.” He called my name directly. I stood up. “What exactly do your parents do for a living? Street sweepers? Janitors? They must have some off-hours, right?” He asked, arms crossed. Someone snickered. “They…” I paused. “Their agency is… special. They can’t leave.” “What agency? Tell me about it.” “I can’t.” A brief silence fell over the classroom. Principal Vanderberg was furious. “Can’t say? Or are you embarrassed to say it?” “Starting the school year off with that passive-aggressive attitude, you think I can’t handle you?” I quickly explained, “Principal, I’m not. They truly can’t say…” Principal Vanderberg’s face was livid. He slammed his hand on the table. “I’ve been teaching for years, I’ve seen every kind of guardian! I’m calling your guardians right now! I’ll ask them myself! If they don’t tell me why they can’t come, you’ll stand for every class until graduation!” With that, the principal pulled out his phone and immediately dialed the number I had provided, deliberately putting it on speaker. From the phone’s speaker came a mechanical female voice: “Hello, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again.” The classroom erupted in laughter. Principal Vanderberg hung up, his chest heaving. He felt mocked and humiliated by me. “Lily Adams.” He gritted his teeth. “You’re playing games with me?” “No, Principal, they truly are…” “Silence.” He pointed a finger at me. “Do you think I’m an idiot? You’ve been lying from start to finish. There’s no such thing as a ‘classified agency.’ You just didn’t want your parents to come. You’re deliberately defying me!” He grew angrier as he spoke, his face red. “Since your parents won’t come to school, then you don’t need to attend class. Get out now!” I explained again, “Principal, I already told you, my parents’ work is highly sensitive. Not just anyone can reach them.” Principal Vanderberg was trembling with rage. “Get out!” I sighed, resigned, and walked out into the corridor. Principal Vanderberg was notoriously petty. Once, a student merely misremembered the timetable and took out a textbook for another subject. Principal Vanderberg publicly berated him for an entire class. If I couldn’t resolve this, who knew how much trouble he’d cause me later. I pulled out my encrypted phone and sent a message to the group chat with my parents: [My principal, Mr. Vanderberg, has some misunderstandings about me because you couldn’t come for the clean-up. Can you explain to him?] A moment later, my mother replied, indicating understanding: [Understood. Situation reported. Someone will handle it.] 2. I stood in the corridor for a full class period, my legs aching. Finally, when the bell for the break rang, I went to the staff office to explain, but at the door, I overheard Principal Vanderberg’s voice. “That Lily Adams, she’s a rotten apple! Doesn’t show up for clean-up, her parents’ profession is ‘confidential,’ and her phone number is out of service! What kind of behavior is this? This is blatant deception of the school, deception of the teachers! Her family values are clearly problematic!” My heart sank. Another teacher spoke up. “No, that can’t be right? Maybe there’s a special reason? The child is usually very well-behaved.” Principal Vanderberg’s voice rose. “Well-behaved? I’ve seen plenty of students like her. What’s the use of good grades? If their character is flawed, they’ll just be a blight on society! Her parents are probably fugitives, that’s why she’s so secretive!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I kicked the door open. It might have been my fault for not explaining properly, but how dare he, as a principal, insult my parents? All the teachers’ gazes turned to me. I looked directly at Principal Vanderberg. “Mr. Vanderberg, you can question me, but you cannot slander my parents like this! You have no evidence, so how dare you say my parents are fugitives!” Principal Vanderberg’s face was livid. He pointed at me. “What kind of attitude is that? Eavesdropping on teachers, then barging in to talk back! Was I wrong? I think you lack proper upbringing!” “My upbringing teaches me to be truthful and to follow rules!” I met his gaze without flinching. “What I’m saying is the truth, and as for my parents’ profession, you have no right to know!” “You’re out of line!” Principal Vanderberg was trembling with rage. He grabbed his lesson plan book from the table and threw it at me, but I dodged it. He roared, “Get out! From now on, you’re out of my class!” I pressed my lips together and turned to leave. Behind me, Principal Vanderberg roared, “Look at that! What an attitude, incorrigible! I’ll definitely teach her a lesson!” Back in my classroom seat, three or five classmates huddled together, whispering, then all turned to look at me, then turned back to continue talking. “Principal said her parents are fugitives!” “We should stay away from her!” My hand, which was turning a page, froze. The class president stood up from his seat, clapped his hands. “Everyone, hand in your holiday assignments. Separate by subject, pass them up by group.” I lowered my head, rummaging through my bag, about to pass my holiday assignment to the student in front. Principal Vanderberg walked directly towards me. In front of the whole class, he took the stack of assignments from my hands, turned around, and tossed them into the trash bin. The classroom was dead silent. All the blood rushed to my head. “Principal Vanderberg!” “What?” He turned to me. “You’ve repeatedly challenged my authority. Since I can’t control you anyway, you don’t need to hand in your assignments anymore.” He took a stack of test papers from the podium and handed them to the class president. “These are this week’s practice sheets. Hand them out.” Principal Vanderberg glanced at me again. “Oh, and don’t give any to Lily Adams. I’ve confiscated her papers.” “Also, I’ve spoken with the other subject teachers. From now on, Lily Adams doesn’t need to hand in any assignments or test papers for any subject. It’ll be useless, we won’t accept them.” My body went cold. Just because my parents couldn’t come to school for clean-up? I was going to be treated like this? The class bell rang. Principal Vanderberg pointed to the corridor. “My class, you can get out!” I gritted my teeth, turned, and left the classroom, knocking on the head of student affairs’ office. 3. I recounted the entire incident to Dean Thompson. “Principal Vanderberg, because my parents couldn’t come to school for clean-up, called them fugitives and made the whole class aware. He also threw my assignments in the trash, saying he wouldn’t accept my work anymore, wouldn’t give me test papers. I want the Dean to judge this fairly.” Dean Thompson listened to my words, then remained silent for a moment. “Lily, dear,” his voice was serious. “I’ve heard what you said. I know Principal Vanderberg; he’s a bit hot-headed, but his intentions are good.” A kindly smile spread across his face. “How about this, in a little while, I’ll use the school intercom to speak on your behalf, and I’ll explain your parents’ situation to everyone, so the teachers and students don’t misunderstand. How does that sound?” My eyes welled up. “Thank you, Dean Thompson! Thank you!” “Go on, go on,” he waved his hand. I bowed deeply to him and left the office. Standing in the corridor, I let out a deep sigh of relief. The intercom would ring soon. Once this was resolved, I could go back to class and study like before. I stood outside the classroom, where Principal Vanderberg was teaching. The intercom crackled to life. I immediately stood up straight. “Attention all faculty and students.” Dean Thompson’s voice came through the speaker. “Here is an announcement.” I took a deep breath. “Regarding the disciplinary action against junior student Lily Adams.” “Upon investigation, it was found that the student provided false guardian information, defied her principal’s authority, and refused to cooperate with class duties. After multiple attempts by the principal to educate her, she showed no remorse, and today, during a break, she left class without permission and disrupted the teaching order. Her actions severely violate school rules and regulations, creating a negative impact.” “After deliberation by the grade committee, it has been decided to place student Lily Adams on school probation. All students are advised to take this as a warning, and respect their teachers. End of announcement.” I felt as if struck by lightning, my mind completely blank. Principal Vanderberg gave me a mocking smile from inside the classroom. I turned and ran, kicking open the Dean of Student Affairs’ office door. Dean Thompson was drinking tea. He frowned and shouted. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know to knock before entering?” “Why did you lie to me?” I gasped, my voice trembling. “Didn’t you promise to help me? Why did the announcement say I was being disciplined?” He stood up, enraged. “Lily Adams, let me tell you, don’t make trouble here. Your disciplinary action is final!” Principal Vanderberg stomped in. Her eyes were spitting fire. “Oh, Lily Adams, you dare to come looking for the Dean!” She took a few quick steps, and without a word, slapped me. My face burned, and I stumbled sideways. “You little brat!” Principal Vanderberg pointed at my nose and yelled, “Even if you go to the Headmaster, it won’t matter! I run this class! I’m telling you, you messed with the wrong person today!” “Cousin, calm down,” Dean Thompson said from the side. I clutched my face, staring at them in disbelief. No wonder Principal Vanderberg was so arrogant; Dean Thompson was backing her up. My phone vibrated. A message from my mother: [Daughter, we’ll be at your school in ten minutes.] Principal Vanderberg’s face darkened. She stepped forward and roughly knocked my phone out of my hand. “Still trying to call for help? Dream on! I’ll teach you a good lesson for your fugitive parents right now!” My fists clenched. All the blood rushed to my head, the pain on my cheek, the heat in my eyes, all mixed together into something indescribable. But my parents were arriving soon. Then, let’s see how arrogant she could be! I scoffed. “Mr. Vanderberg, are you really sure you want to do this?” 4. Principal Vanderberg scoffed, yelling, “Security! Now!” Two security guards ran in. Principal Vanderberg pointed at me, furious. “This student violated school rules and assaulted a teacher!” “Look at this slap mark on my face! She’s completely out of control. She needs a lesson!” I looked at Principal Vanderberg’s smooth face and laughed, exasperated. This was a complete inversion of the truth. The guards rushed forward, twisting my arms, one on each side, pinning me in place. I struggled, but two fists were no match for four hands. Principal Vanderberg stood before me, looking down. “If your parents won’t discipline you, then I’ll do it for them. I’ll teach you respect!” “Now, get on your knees and apologize!” I struggled, shouting, “I’m not wrong!” “I won’t kneel!” The guards’ grip was strong, pressing on my shoulders until they ached. I twisted my body, kicking at the ground. “Hold her down!” Dean Thompson yelled, and from behind, he kicked the back of my knee. My leg gave out, and I slammed to my knees on the floor. Principal Vanderberg squatted in front of me, holding her phone, the camera pointed at my face. “Come on, look up. Let everyone see what a student who hits a teacher looks like.” “Say, ‘My parents are fugitives.’” I bit my lip, staying silent. She stood up and handed her phone to one of the security guards. “Hold this. Get a clear shot.” The guard took the phone, the camera still on me. Principal Vanderberg circled behind me and kicked me in the back. I stumbled forward, bracing myself with my hands on the ground, my palms scraping against the floor, a burning pain. “Won’t say it?” Her voice came from above. “Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out.” She bent down, grabbing a handful of my hair, yanking my face upward. My scalp screamed in pain, feeling like my hair was about to be ripped out. “Look at the camera. Admit your parents are fugitives. Say it.” Principal Vanderberg commanded. Tears streamed down my face from the pain, but I bit my lip and remained silent. My silence enraged Principal Vanderberg. She snatched the stun baton from the security guard’s belt. My blood ran cold. I fiercely demanded, “Principal Vanderberg! This is illegal! You are a disgrace to the teaching profession!” She pressed the stun baton to my shoulder, and I trembled with fear. “Scared now? Will you say it or not?” “Never! My parents are not fugitives.” My voice trembled, but each word was clear. “They protect this country. People like you don’t deserve to mention them.” Her face darkened, and she snapped, “You think you’re so tough!” With that, she moved to press the button. Just then, the classroom door was kicked open, and several figures appeared in the doorway. I cried out: “Mom, Dad, you’re finally here!”

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For ten years, I watched Ryan rise from a theater student to an award-winning actor. He once promised to announce our relationship when he made it big, but as his fame grew, he said he’d wait until he won an Oscar. Finally, at his film’s wrap party, he promised me a big surprise. With joy in my heart, I stepped onto the stage. Red roses lined the carpet; it felt like a romantic declaration. But as cameras started livestreaming, Sienna Hayes, his co-star, approached me holding a tattoo gun. Ryan coldly signaled crew members to hold me down. The icy needle pierced my wrist, the machine buzzing. I struggled fiercely, but Ryan stepped forward, gripped my shoulders, and held me still. In that moment, all hope left me. I stopped fighting. Sienna tattooed “Whore” on my inner wrist, then lifted my arm for the cameras. “You moved,” she giggled. “The bunny I tried to draw is crooked now.” The next day, I boarded a flight abroad, leaving that city behind for good. He searched everywhere for me, then complained, baffled: “Naomi Ryan, it was just a joke. Did you really have to disappear?” 1. The flesh on my wrist was still raw, blood dripping from my fingers onto the stage floor. I picked myself up. No one stopped me. The crowd parted automatically. Some were still laughing, their sounds dissolving into whispers as I passed. I heard Sienna’s voice from behind. “Oh dear, she’s not really mad, is she? Darling, go cheer her up.” Then Ryan’s voice, soft, with a laugh. “It’s fine. She won’t be.” The corridor was long, the dressing room at the end. Blood dripped all the way. The dressing room had a first-aid kit, fully stocked. I always prepared one for Ryan whenever he started a new film. Even if he never used it, I’d replace everything with new supplies for the next project. I opened the antiseptic alcohol and poured it onto the wound. The pain made my whole body tremble. Once the wound was finally bandaged, I cleaned the blood from my hands with a wet wipe. My phone vibrated twice. I looked down. It was a message from Ryan. [Sienna just loves to play. Don’t take it to heart. I’ll give you two days off once your wound is handled. Don’t forget, you have an appearance the day after tomorrow.] I stared at the words, slowly scrolling up. Most of the messages were from me to him. Public appearances, event lists—almost all work-related. We rarely chatted anymore. The last time he texted me was before the New Year. [Shooting a night scene tonight. Not coming home.] Scrolling further up. Last September, he promised to be with me for a medical procedure, but canceled at the last minute. [I can’t get away. I’ve arranged for a nurse to be with you.] Scrolling even further, all the messages boiled down to a few repetitive phrases: [Not coming home tonight.] [Eat by yourself.] [Don’t wait up for me.] I put my phone face down on the table, accidentally knocking over my bag beside it. A silver ring rolled out from a hidden pocket. It was from our third year together, when we were on a trip. Ryan had made it himself at a artisan’s workshop. He’d meticulously followed the craftsman’s instructions, learning each step of silversmithing, never showing any impatience. Back then, he said: “I can’t afford a diamond ring now, but one day I’ll be famous across the country. Then, you’ll take this ring and exchange it with me…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I instinctively asked, “Exchange for what?” He just smiled, his ear tips turning red, as he finished the ring. 2. The moment he placed the ring on my finger, the old craftsman smiled and wished us eternal love, offering us a discount if we ever came back to his shop. But in the seven years that followed, we never once returned. I left the ring on the table. I walked out without looking back. A few paparazzi were lurking outside the studio. Seeing me, they raised their phones and crowded around. “Hey, you’re the one from the live stream with the tattoo, right?” “Is that word real or fake? Let us see!” I didn’t stop, walking straight through them. Someone reached out to grab me, but I shook them off. “Pfft, who does she think she is, putting on airs.” “Got it, got it. It’s that girl. Just trying to grab headlines.” “Post it in the group chat, post it in the group chat.” I vanished into the night, the sound of camera shutters and laughter trailing behind me. In the taxi, the driver eyed me several times in the rearview mirror. “Miss, should you go to the hospital for that hand? Looks like you’ve lost a lot of blood.” “No need.” “Where to, then?” I gave him an address. The driver paused. “That’s an old apartment complex, right?” “Yes.” I didn’t want to say more. The car turned into a side street, the streetlights growing dimmer and dimmer. Looking at the old building where I’d lived for five years, I scoffed. “Naomi Ryan, Naomi Ryan, if he really loved you, how could he bear for you to live here for five years?” I really was blind and foolish. I mocked myself inwardly. The stairwell light was out; I had to feel my way up. The apartment was dark, only faint light from the streetlights outside the window. I sat in the darkness, and my wrist started to ache again. I looked down at the red bleeding through the bandage. Suddenly, I remembered freshman year, Ryan kissing me by the athletic field. He said he loved only two things in this world: acting and Naomi Ryan. When did that passionate, earnest boy become the one to push me into hell? This apartment was tiny, only 500 square feet. But things related to Ryan took up most of it. The magazine from his first photoshoot, with his first-ever autograph. The video from his first film promotion; I’d filmed almost every costume fitting. His first birthday celebration on set, his face smeared with frosting, his eyes crinkling in a smile. The award from his first time on an awards stage… I suddenly stood up and started to clear things out. Even the hoodie he’d left here years ago. Used mugs. Books he’d bought. His old scripts. All of it went into a trash bag. The bag filled, so I grabbed another. The room grew emptier and emptier. At 3 AM, I hauled seven trash bags downstairs. The trash bins couldn’t hold it all, so I piled them next to the bins. Just like those past memories. They should have been thrown out a long time ago. Back home, I started packing my luggage. Soon, all my belongings fit into one suitcase. I let out a soft, ironic laugh. This was my decade. The next morning at 9 AM, I went to the company to submit my resignation. Lisa, the HR director, and I had always been on good terms. Lisa sat behind her desk, motioning for me to sit down. She tapped the documents in front of her. “About your resignation, the company has considered it. It’s not approved.” “Why?” “Your contract states that resignation requires a one-month advance notice and the department head’s signature.” She finally looked up at me. “Ryan hasn’t signed off, so the process can’t proceed.” I lowered my eyes, staring at a crack on the table. “Lisa, I don’t need any compensation from the company, just my resignation.” She smiled, then stood up and patted my shoulder. 3. “Naomi, why are you so stubborn? I heard about what happened last night. You were certainly wronged. But think about it, it’s just a tattoo. It can be removed or covered up. It’s not a lifetime thing.” I didn’t speak. She lowered her voice. “I heard from accounting that Ryan is giving you a million dollars in compensation from his personal account.” “A million dollars! How many years would it take you to save that much here? People would kill for that, and you still want to leave?” The door was pushed open, and Alex from accounting poked her head in. “Oh, Naomi’s here. I was looking for you.” She walked over, plopped down beside me, and patted my knee. “I’m telling you, that million dollars is real. I just approved the transfer. You, don’t be foolish. With a million dollars, go to the best clinic, get the tattoo completely removed. Who’d remember any of this then?” Lisa chimed in. “That word’s on your wrist, not your face. A sleeve can cover it up. Who would know?” “Besides, think about it, getting a tattoo mark for a million dollars? Anyone else would be thanking Sienna Hayes for it.” I wasn’t surprised by their words; they were just ordinary people unaware of the full context. But this time, I wouldn’t soften or compromise. I shook my head. “Thank you for your kind intentions, both of you. If you’d like, you can go tell Sienna Hayes and see if she’ll give you a million dollars to tattoo a word on you.” “As for my resignation, my decision is final. If you insist on blocking me with paperwork, I’ll go speak to Ryan myself.” As soon as I left the meeting room, the company group chat on my phone exploded. [Heard she wanted to get ahead and got put in her place. Maybe the boss’s fake relationship became real.] [Is she really resigning? Not even taking the million? So foolish.] [Probably too ashamed after last night. Can’t face working here anymore.] [Idiot, a million bucks! I’d get tattooed all over for that.] Looking at these unrestrained discussions, I simply left the group chat. If the company wouldn’t let me resign, I had only one other option. I opened my phone’s contact list. The last time I spoke to my brother was five years ago. That day, he said our parents decided to emigrate and asked if I wanted to go with them. For Ryan, I refused. He asked, what could be more important than family? Yes, what or who could be more important than family? I stared at his name for a long time. My thumb hovered over the screen. I pressed the dial button. It rang twice, then connected. “Naomi Ryan?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. “What’s wrong?” In that instant, I knelt down, covering my mouth, tears splashing onto the floor tiles. I, who had held back tears for so long, in that single, caring question, finally broke down. 4. Just after I hung up with my brother, Ryan’s message popped up. [You left your ring in the dressing room. I put it away for you.] [How can you forget something so important? Don’t be so careless next time.] I stared at the two lines. Typed three words. [Throw it away.] Thought about it, deleted. Typed again. [I don’t want it.] Deleted again. Finally, I typed three words, and sent them. [We’re breaking up.] Soon, Ryan’s call came through. “What are you doing? There’s a limit to how dramatic you can be. You’re going to…” His voice, low, suddenly swerved. “You’re going to resign?” “Didn’t accounting tell you I compensated you? What other demands do you have—?” I cut him off. “Ryan, I’m breaking up with you. Other than that, I have no demands.” The phone line went silent. I could feel him moving to an empty place. “Naomi Ryan, can you please stop this? It was for publicity! The show has this scene. Sienna plays a tattoo artist, and I was just helping with promotion. Aren’t you usually the most cooperative when it comes to my work?” My eyes stung. Looking out the window, the sky was overcast, threatening rain. His tone softened slightly, but his voice remained low. “Alright, I’ve talked to the company. I’ll arrange a role for you in the next movie. Haven’t you always wanted to act? A supporting role should be fine, right? There was a producer present yesterday who even said your struggle scene was better than the actual actress’s.” “Stop making a fuss. This won’t do you any good.” I held the phone, my fingers cold. He had witnessed my fear and my struggle with his own eyes. And then offered me a minor role. As compensation. “The role is reserved for you for three days. Think it over. Naomi Ryan, don’t be willful. I’ll handle the online backlash, but you should also know, if you leave me, no one will dare hire you. If you don’t come back, where else would you go?” I suddenly laughed. As I laughed, large tears splattered onto my clothes, creating a dark spot. “Ryan, this time, I’m the one letting you go.” The other end was silent for two seconds, then his voice became urgent, frantic. He no longer cared about keeping his voice low, shouting my name. “Naomi Ryan——” The next second, I hung up. The phone rang consecutively more than a dozen times, then finally stopped. Rain started falling outside the window, pattering against the glass. I stood up and walked to the window. I had spent ten years in this city. I knew every road, every landmark. But looking at those buildings, those streets now, I suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity. His words, “where else would you go if you don’t come back,” still echoed in my mind. He didn’t know my brother was already on a flight back. He didn’t know my passport was in my bag. He didn’t know I was determined to leave. He knew nothing. Because he never needed to know. The rain grew heavier. I stood by the window, watching the rain stream down the glass. My brother arrived that night. When he walked into my pitifully small, empty rental apartment, his eyes showed disgust. “Naomi Ryan, your Oscar-winning boyfriend lets you live like this?” I pressed my lips together, unconsciously clutching my suitcase. My bandaged wrist was accidentally exposed. My brother’s eyes narrowed, fixing on my wrist, his tone grim. “What happened to your hand?” I instinctively covered it with my sleeve, whispering, “It’s over, bro. I want to go home.” My brother paused, then let out a long sigh. “Alright. We’re going home.” The car pulled up to the departure hall entrance. As I opened the car door, a black minivan screeched to a halt beside us, tires scraping the pavement with an ear-splitting sound. The car door slid open, and Ryan strode towards me. He was wearing yesterday’s clothes, a baseball cap pulled low. He saw me, started to say something, then spotted the man holding my suitcase. His face instantly changed. “Who is he?” His voice was chilling. 5. He stared at me, then at my brother, and suddenly let out a laugh, full of sarcasm. “No wonder you were so determined to leave. You found someone new, didn’t you?” My brother frowned. I reached out and pulled his arm, shaking my head at him. I didn’t want to attract more attention, but Ryan wouldn’t let me off the hook. “Naomi Ryan, you’ve got guts.” Ryan took a step forward, blocking my path. “You acted so innocent when you were with me, and then you turn around and hook up with someone else? How long have you known him? A month? Two months? While I was filming, you were— ” “Think whatever you want.” I cut him off. He froze. “Ryan, even if there was cheating, you were first.” I linked my arm through my brother’s and turned towards the departure hall. “Naomi Ryan!” He rushed after me, grabbing my wrist. A sharp pain shot through the bandage. I flinched. “Let go.” “No.” He squeezed tighter. “Explain yourself. Who is he? Where are you going?” My brother forcefully shoved Ryan’s arm away, their shoulders squared in anger. This drew the attention of those nearby. A woman dragging a suitcase stopped, her eyes wide, lifting her phone and saying to the person next to her, “Isn’t that… Ryan, the great actor Ryan?” Her voice made several people nearby turn their heads simultaneously. “Holy hell, it really is Ryan!” “Ryan’s at the airport!” More phones went up. The flashes multiplied. Ryan stared at me, his eyes bloodshot, his voice very low, with a tremble I’d never heard before. “Nao, please don’t. Let’s go back and talk. I’ll agree to whatever you want…” I looked at his face. It was now etched with panic, his eyes red. “Ryan, the moment you held me down and let someone tattoo that word on me, my heart died.” He froze, instinctively wanting to argue. But the crowd grew, jamming the airport entrance. I was anxious to leave. He reached out again, this time avoiding my wrist, grabbing my arm. I used my other hand to pry his fingers open, one by one. He was strong; it took all my might to break his grip. Until the last finger was pried open, his entire being seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping instantly. I turned and, escorted by my brother, walked towards the security checkpoint. His voice drifted from behind. “Nao, let me explain!” I didn’t stop. “Naomi Ryan, stop right there!” The crowd automatically parted to make way. Only this time, he was the one being surrounded. “Who is she?” “I don’t know, looks like Ryan’s girlfriend?” “When did Ryan get a girlfriend? Wasn’t he involved with Sienna Hayes?” “No, isn’t that the woman who was tattooed the other day?!” The murmuring faded behind me. The security checkpoint. My brother had already placed the suitcase on the conveyor belt. I handed my boarding pass to the attendant. The moment I walked through, his voice rang out again. He had actually vaulted over the railing and rushed in. “Naomi Ryan——” His voice echoed through the entire departure hall. He was blocked by staff, two people holding his shoulders firmly, trapped like a cornered beast. “Come back, don’t leave…” I looked into his eyes and suddenly smiled. “Ryan, who am I to you? What right do you have to ask me to stay?”

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1 Mark and Helen had just won the World Pairs Skating Championship, marking the close of the year’s biggest event. From the stands, the deafening chant of “Marry her!” grew. Flushed, I, Liam Noth, stood ready to propose under the glare of countless cameras. But Helen only smiled gently, removed the gold medal from my neck—the eighty-eighth time she’d done so—and placed it around our coach Adrian Vance’s neck. “Adrian has sacrificed so much for us,” she said with sweet authority. “Tonight’s spotlight should be his.” She added, “It’ss not that I don’t want your proposal, Liam, but you made mistakes today. I want perfection. Let’s wait until next year’s National Championships, when we can deliver a perfect performance, and then talk about getting engaged.” My eyes lingered on the glittering medal as she and Adrian stood side by side, looking so perfectly matched. A chill settled in my chest. I bit my lip, tasting blood, forcing a civil smile. If she kept deflecting like this at every awards ceremony, then next time I won a championship, it wouldn’t be her I proposed to. The audience exchanged bewildered glances, a murmur of discontent growing into a few scattered boos. Many, for whom this was their first figure skating event, had come solely because of Helen’s pre-competition hype. I, however, stood to the side, a bitter smile playing on my lips, and started clapping. Other athletes on the ice quickly pulled out their phones, snapping group selfies to lighten the mood. Helen and Adrian were at the very center, heads close, a picture of intimacy and perfect harmony. I, the male half of the winning pair, wasn’t even in the shot. After the awards ceremony, it was time for photos and interviews. All the other medalists were being interviewed and photographed in pairs. Only I, Liam Noth, stood alone, the target of sympathetic or probing stares from every direction. A reporter asked Adrian how he felt about our pair winning the championship again. Adrian simply smirked, the condescending curve of his mouth a painful jab. “Helen is the most gifted female partner in the world; her success is absolutely deserved.” “As for Liam…” He glanced at me with an undisguised sneer, his eyes full of contempt. “My New Year’s wish is to inherit his career luck.” His words, veiled and overt, thoroughly implied I was nothing more than a tag-along, winning only because of Helen. Adrian hadn’t always been our coach. After Helen and I started to make a name for ourselves, our original coach tragically passed away, and she recommended her childhood friend for the role. Adrian went from obscurity to a championship-winning coach overnight. But Helen merely looked at Adrian with a doting expression, as if his words were entirely appropriate. Our teammates, the second-place winners, finished their interview and hurried over, linking arms with me to show support. Amidst the rapid-fire flashes of cameras, my teammate bit out in a voice only I could hear, “Isn’t he just throwing you under the bus with that interview? Everyone knows he’s just riding your coattails.” I just smiled for the cameras and whispered back, “Don’t say anything more. We’re a team, after all. Someone might hear, and then they’ll start making up stories.” He grunted, frustrated, but said nothing further. Once the reporters dispersed, Helen gracefully approached. “Come on, let’s go train. A championship doesn’t mean we can slack off.” She naturally picked up my gear bag, her other hand instinctively reaching for my shoulder. I subtly shifted, taking the bag from her. “I can carry it myself.” She paused, then quickly regained her composure and nodded. We walked in silence to the training rink. I idly kicked loose pebbles along the path until I bumped into a soft embrace. Rubbing my head, I looked up to find Helen staring intently at me. “Are you mad?” Her directness was typical Helen. I pressed my lips together, saying nothing. She pinched my cheek, then burrowed into my chest, a muffled sound coming from above. “Didn’t I say next year’s Nationals? If you really wanted to get married, you shouldn’t have made mistakes on the ice today… Our proposal ceremony has to be absolutely perfect.” I forced back the sting in my eyes and took a deep breath, giving Helen one last chance. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the International Skating Union’s official account. “Show me one time, just one, after a competition, that you and I were together for an interview or a photo.” “Do you have any idea how much flak I’m going to get because of what he said?” Helen paused, then after a long moment, chuckled dismissively. “You’re seriously competing with Adrian over something like this?” “You’re always in the spotlight during competitions, and everyone knows we’re a couple. I just wanted our coach’s behind-the-scenes work to be acknowledged.” “Your career luck isn’t bad at all. Isn’t winning a championship with the person you love most the happiest thing?” Helen raised an eyebrow, her eyes full of confusion as she looked at me. My palm clenched tight, a bitter ache spreading through my chest. I knew these were her true feelings. She genuinely believed I should share my glory with Adrian. “Helen,” my voice was hoarse, “I’ll be 28 in three months. It’s also our ten-year anniversary. Do you remember the promise we made when we first got together?” When Helen and I were 18, we had just moved up to the senior division. It was our first time on the world stage, and she had declared with bold confidence, “In ten years, we’ll be the world’s number one husband-and-wife team.” I paused, then pressed Helen for an answer. “Do you know what ‘husband and wife’ means?” She hesitated, then released me, her hand dismissively taking mine as she walked ahead. “Liam, in my heart, you’re already my husband.” “Don’t get hung up on formalities.” “For a champion, shouldn’t you be striving for perfection?” “Alright, come on! We’ll be late for practice!” With that, Helen let go of my hand and strode forward alone. She didn’t explain why she’d broken a public promise, nor did she try to soothe my rapidly unraveling emotions. Instead, she reframed the problem as one of achieving perfection. And I, the flawed culprit, was apparently responsible for her refusal to accept my proposal. I watched her figure shrink in the distance, the fervent passion I once held for her now turning cold. Later, at the rink, while changing into our skates, other skaters training there saw us arrive one after the other and, as usual, teased Helen and me. Helen playfully cursed them, instinctively reaching for my hand. But I subtly moved away. Her hand hung awkwardly in the air. My face was expressionless. “I’m tired.” 2 On the ice, Adrian, witnessing our interaction, scoffed and impatiently urged us to begin practice. Helen looked torn. Finally, she sighed. “You’ve just competed, so you must be tired. Get some rest.” “I’ll get on the ice first and work on the new routine with Adrian.” But just as she was about to step onto the ice, her leg retracted. She turned, looking at me with a questioning gaze. Every time before we skated, I would meticulously check Helen’s skates to ensure her safety, then give her a kiss. This time, however, I simply turned calmly, grabbed my bag, and headed back to the hotel. I dragged my heavy feet back to the hotel, mechanically scrolling through posts of Adrian’s interview on social media. Without exception, the comments were full of mockery directed at me. “Coach Adrian is right, Liam’s just being carried. Any male partner could win with Helen.” “I remember Coach Adrian and Liam are about the same age. Maybe Coach Adrian should just replace Liam! It would even save on coaching fees.” I’d been hearing variations of these words for ten years. Helen was indeed a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Countless boys dreamt of partnering with her. But she had chosen me, plain and unremarkable. I was overjoyed, almost in tears, and secretly vowed never to hold her back. I practiced relentlessly, losing sleep and feeling immense anxiety over every single mistake. Helen would tirelessly reassure me. “Enjoy the ice. I chose you because you’re the best.” “Pairs skating is a partnership; I can’t do it without you.” When people ridiculed me for being undeserving, Helen would be the first to defend me. Slowly, with Helen’s support, I too became a top male pairs skater. But all of that ended when Adrian arrived. He would scrutinize every single one of my movements under a magnifying glass, and any slight imperfection would be met with harsh criticism and taunts. I complained to Helen. Her initial comfort slowly turned into sighs. “With that attitude, how can we become the world’s number one husband-and-wife team?” For the sake of the promise we made at 18, I swallowed all my grievances, even secretly seeing a therapist and taking handfuls of medication. Even after Helen had gone to rest, I would still be on the ice, alone, repeating movements. Now, we were world champions, but our chance at being husband and wife seemed to be fading… The familiar “beep-beep” of the door unlocking echoed. My movements froze. I didn’t stir, just kept replaying Adrian’s interview video. I knew it was Helen. Adrian, to prevent us from getting too close, always insisted Helen and I have separate rooms during competitions. I would secretly slip her my key card. She had never once used it. But I could recognize her footsteps just by their sound. Seeing my screen, Helen’s movements faltered. She feigned casualness, taking my phone. “Oh, no wonder our workaholic wasn’t at practice today. These meanies got to you.” “Don’t look at these anymore. Practice more on the ice, achieve results, and really show them.” I didn’t answer her question. Instead, I asked, “How was practice today?” She paused, then offered a brief explanation. “Pretty good. Adrian and I reviewed things. A few moves might expose your technical weaknesses. We might need to adjust them later.” I rubbed my neck, which had gone numb from holding the same position, and struggled to look up at her. “Helen.” I let out a long breath. “Let’s break up.” She stopped, glancing at my phone screen, and wearily pinched the bridge of her nose. “What is this really about? Online comments? Or the fact that I didn’t let you propose today?” Her tone softened considerably, almost a playful whine. “Don’t be silly. If we break up, the team breaks up. You wouldn’t really abandon a top partner like me, would you?” She patted my shoulder and turned towards the bathroom. “Within three months,” I said to her retreating back, my voice low, “I want to propose after winning a gold medal.” 3 Her hand, which had just touched the bathroom doorknob, froze. After a few seconds, she turned around. The forced pleasantness on her face finally vanished completely. “Liam, stop messing around.” “The new season is starting. We won’t be in perfect shape within three months. Besides, in three months, it’s the prestigious Four Continents Championship, and it’s not even a sure thing we’ll take first place.” I just stared at her. “If you want to break up the team, I don’t mind…” Helen’s last shred of composure evaporated. “What’s wrong with you now? Are you unhappy with Adrian’s training plan?” She eyed me with a deep, mocking scrutiny, then let her true thoughts slip out with a cynical smile. “Liam. You should know. Without me, you wouldn’t win any gold medals. But me, even if I partnered with Adrian, I could still win gold.” A heavy stone seemed to press down on my heart. This sentence, after fifteen years of partnership, Helen had finally uttered. Her words struck me like stones. In the past, whenever she showed even a hint of negative emotion towards me, I would rush to prove myself. I had forgotten that countless top coaches and female partners had also extended invitations to me. She was indeed a top female partner, so top-tier that she allocated a significant portion of our training time to the coach, using the pretext of discussing choreography and training to be inseparable from him. She even disparaged me openly with Adrian. “Your hands are too heavy; every time you lift me, I’m terrified. You can’t eat today; you need to reduce your strength.” “How can you still not master this move? Practice for two more hours.” If I showed any dissatisfaction, she would scoff, “My harsh words are to make you stronger. A top athlete needs a powerful mindset.” I met her gaze and nodded. “Then you go partner with Adrian.” With that, I grabbed my luggage and left the hotel, ignoring Helen’s furious shouts behind me. Perhaps as punishment, she quickly finalized the process of disbanding our team and immediately announced her partnership with Adrian. Overnight, the number of people reveling in my misfortune exploded. “Four Continents in three months. Liam won’t even make it to the podium!” “Hahaha, serves him right! Time for the fraud to be exposed! Waiting for Liam’s retirement!” My teammate called me. “Dude! You’re brave! But it was long overdue. Any insider knows you’re the top male partner. Losing you is Helen’s loss!” He paused, sighing. “But what about you? Are you not participating in Four Continents? You were the champion last year. Now, without a partner, defending your title is probably out of the question…” I offered a small smile. “If he can find a male partner, why can’t I find a female partner?” “The competition hasn’t even started. Who wins the championship is still up for grabs.” 4 I avoided Helen and Adrian, choosing to train abroad. When I returned home to register my new partner, I happened to see that Helen and Adrian had recently won a domestic competition shortly after forming their team. The media swarmed them. This time, their coach wisely ceded the spotlight entirely to the pair. I twitched my lips. With a new coach, she couldn’t be bothered to trot out those grand, self-serving speeches anymore. Adrian’s performance hadn’t been flawless, but Helen was beaming with pride and encouragement. I heard her say words that Helen had once spoken to me ten years ago. I never imagined I’d hear her say the same things to someone else in this lifetime. How things had changed. Spotting me, Adrian triumphantly draped his arm around Helen. “Liam, I hear you’re here to register for pairs skating? Where’s your partner? Too shy to show her face?” Helen didn’t shy away from his closeness. Instead, she leaned in and whispered to me, “See? I told you so. I win championships no matter who I’m with.” “If you behave yourself, I’ll consider getting back together with you. Both romantically and as a team.” Reporters, sensing a juicy story, swarmed closer, their eyes glued to me, as if I was about to do something scandalous at any second. I, however, simply and politely moved through the crowd, leaving Helen with a scowl on her face. The Four Continents Championship rapidly approached. Everywhere you looked, it was all about Helen and Adrian. My teammate sent me a video. After Adrian and Helen finished their routine, thunderous applause erupted. Many people congratulated them. “Helen is amazing, as always! So talented, she’s perfect with any partner!” The person paused, seeing Helen’s pleased expression, and carefully shifted the topic. “I saw Liam’s name on the registration list… but I haven’t heard of his partner…” Adrian scoffed, a sneer on his face. “Any stray cat or dog can get on stage now?! Helen told me Liam was bragging about proposing if he won gold. He couldn’t possibly expect Helen to accept a loser’s proposal, could he?” Everyone burst into thunderous laughter. Helen smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in her eyes. “I would never do anything so embarrassing.” “Winning too many championships has gone to Liam’s head; he’s lost all self-awareness. I’ve been far too lenient with him, even making a fuss about marriage.” Suddenly, someone spoke up. “So what’s the deal with you and Liam now? No marriage? But you did promise to accept his proposal if he won, so you can’t blame him for being upset…” “Oh, come on,” Adrian said mockingly. “That was something Helen and I agreed on. It was just to test Liam’s resilience, so he wouldn’t complain to Helen all the time about how hard training was.” My palm clenched tight. I had never imagined that Helen would use something as significant as marriage as an excuse for “pressure training.” Everyone exchanged awkward glances. Someone laughed and changed the subject. “Whoa, so it looks like you and Liam are a thing of the past?” The speaker glanced at the intimately close Adrian and Helen, then suddenly slapped their forehead, realizing. “Could it be that if Helen wins gold, she’ll ask Adrian to propose instead?!” Adrian pretended to be annoyed and playfully swatted the person, but Helen just watched their antics with a knowing smile, offering no explanation. I quietly turned off the video. I changed into my costume, waiting for the announcer to call my partner and my names. I smiled at my partner. “Ready to win?”

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No one knew that my agreement to Mrs. Leigh’s request was purely for the hefty sum she offered. For three years, I revolved around Adrian Leigh like a personal assistant. He wouldn’t pay attention in class, so I’d stay up late organizing his notes and key points. If he got too close to other girls, I’d even have to cover for him with the teachers. After all that effort to get him into a prestigious university, what I got in return was a breakup. He said with disdain that, compared to the lively Hannah, I was too boring, with nothing but academics on my mind. Everyone around us was waiting to see me heartbroken, ready for a good laugh. But when I saw the fifty million dollars suddenly appear in my bank account, all I felt was relief. I calmly told him, “Congratulations,” and turned my back on the man who had consumed three years of my youth. The money was in my hands; this transaction was finally over. 1. “The star quarterback just dumped her, and she just said ‘congratulations’?!” “She hung up in less than a minute, so coldly. She must be losing her mind with sadness, right?” “Doesn’t look like it. She’s too calm, more like she’d been eagerly waiting to get dumped.” At that, someone cautiously glanced at Adrian. He had his arm around his new girlfriend, but his handsome face was dark and displeased. They quickly changed tack. “Everyone knows how long Genevieve liked Adrian. There’s no way she’s really indifferent; she must be bottling it all up inside!” “I bet she’ll come crawling back in less than three days, begging Adrian not to leave her!” Adrian’s gloomy expression softened slightly. “If she comes back and begs, I might consider forgiving her. Let’s see what she does.” I knew nothing of their discussions, dragging my suitcase towards the train station. If I had heard their taunts, I would have merely offered a cool, faint smile. If my parents hadn’t been convinced that studying was useless for a girl, that I should marry young for a dowry. If my university acceptance letter hadn’t been torn to shreds, if my drunken father hadn’t beaten me senseless, and if Mrs. Leigh hadn’t found me then, offering a deal— That if I could help Adrian get into a top-tier university, she would not only pay for my high school tuition but also give me fifty million dollars. Then I never would have chased after Adrian, the notorious rebel, being his ever-available, thankless sidekick. For three whole years. I used every means possible to transform him, a defiant slacker, into a successful student, getting him into a top-tier university. Now, with the mission accomplished, I finally had the money to leave. I was too happy for anything else. Why would I be sad because he got a new girlfriend? From start to finish, I just wanted to fight my way out of hell and create a vast new world for myself. Love was never part of the equation for me. After the school year began, I didn’t report to the university I’d been accepted to. My parents wouldn’t let me go, knowing that a student accepted into a prestigious university could fetch a high dowry. If I was going to leave, I had to leave completely. Over the three-month summer break, I passed my IELTS exam and reached B2 proficiency in French. I successfully completed my study abroad application. As I boarded my flight to Paris, Adrian sent a reconciliation text message: “Why have you blocked all my contact info?” “Genevieve, haven’t you thrown enough tantrums this summer? Even if I’m with Hannah, we’re still friends. Stop being dramatic and unblock me.” His message, from start to finish, still carried that condescending tone. As if he were certain that, just like the past three years, no matter how childish he acted, no matter how much he trampled on my feelings, I would eventually come wagging my tail back to him. I directly pulled out my phone’s SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into an airport trash can. Along with that card, I discarded all the humility, calculation, and unspeakable past it represented. The plane soared through the sky, erasing all traces of my previous life. Later, my best friend told me Adrian had left comments under all my old social media posts. The content was always something like, “Are you done with your tantrum?” “It’s just a relationship, why are you so mad?” “Unblock me already!” She said, “At first, Adrian was convinced you’d come back to him. When you didn’t, he got increasingly irritable. Sometimes, just mentioning your name would make him scowl.” I listened as if hearing someone else’s story, without a single ripple of emotion. With the fifty million from Mrs. Leigh, I started anew in Paris. I chose a top design academy, grappling with language, culture, and a demanding curriculum. Everything was a new challenge, but there was no Adrian to appease, no suffocating family. There were only my paintbrushes, my designs, and infinite aspirations for the future. Years passed in the blink of an eye. Fueled by sweat and talent, my jewelry designs began to appear at major fashion weeks, winning several prestigious international awards. I was even appointed as the new Chief Designer for Lumina Company and sent back home to expand its Asia-Pacific market. My first day back in the country. While having lunch at a restaurant below the branch office, a hesitant voice spoke behind me: “Genevieve? Is that you?” I turned, recognizing a somewhat familiar girl. It was Pamela, who used to sit in front of me in high school. She stared, unashamedly appraising me from head to toe, her eyes wide with astonishment and disbelief. “Oh my god! It really is you! You’ve changed so much!” Gone was the timidity of high school and the subtle subservience of trying to please. Time and experience had given me a calm, composed demeanor. “Long time no see.” “It really is you! What a coincidence!” Pamela seemed very excited. “There’s a class reunion tonight, at the Cloudtop restaurant upstairs! Lots of our old classmates are coming, and Adrian will be there too! You have to come! Everyone will definitely not recognize you!” Adrian? That name felt like a distant symbol, one that hadn’t crossed my mind in a long time. I initially wanted to decline, but then I thought, there’s no need to specifically avoid certain things. “Okay.” The entire day was spent on the handover of the new company, so busy I hardly touched the ground. By the time I remembered the reunion, it was already late. Too lazy to go back to the hotel to change, I went straight to the Cloudtop private room upstairs in my casual clothes. Pushing open the heavy door, a cacophony of voices washed over me. The private room was large, with a huge round table packed with people. My gaze instinctively swept across the room, and almost instantly, it settled on the man at the head of the table, surrounded by adoring classmates. Adrian Leigh. He was more mature than in high school, his handsome face more sharply defined. Dressed in an expensive casual suit, he exuded a relaxed, confident air, always the center of attention. Right beside him sat a beautiful young woman, impeccably made-up and dressed in a flashy outfit, but it wasn’t Hannah. It seemed his rebellious girlfriend had also been upgraded. After a brief silence, a slightly inebriated guy was the first to recognize me. “Holy crap! Look! Adrian! Your fangirl Genevieve is here!” That shout abruptly ignited the entire private room. Everyone’s eyes, filled with surprise and schadenfreude, swiveled to focus on me. Adrian abruptly looked up, and his pupils contracted sharply when he saw me standing in the doorway. The easy nonchalance on his face instantly froze, replaced by shock and an indiscernible complexity. The girl beside him immediately sensed his change, tightening her arm around his, her gaze on me filled with scrutiny and hostility. “Genevieve?” I ignored the whispers and stares. I walked straight to the empty seat beside Pamela and calmly poured myself a glass of water. “Genevieve, long time no see!” Victoria, a classmate dressed ostentatiously, was the first to speak. “I heard you didn’t go to college back then? Well, your family couldn’t afford the tuition anyway.” “Where did you end up working all these years? You didn’t, like they said, marry an old man, did you? Your outfit today is pretty casual.” She deliberately emphasized “marry an old man,” prompting a few girls around her to giggle behind their hands. “I spent a few years abroad, just came back.” I replied coolly, not wanting to elaborate. “Oh, abroad!” Mark, another guy, picked up, his tone exaggeratedly sympathetic. “Returning expats aren’t doing so hot these days, are they? You can do shady stuff overseas, but that’s illegal here. Since we’re old classmates, have you found a job yet? Want us to help you find something?” “My uncle’s company still needs an office clerk. Requirements aren’t high, just basic computer skills! The pay isn’t great, but it’s a decent job, at least! Better than your old…” He deliberately drew out the last word, implying something. “Yeah, yeah,” Victoria immediately echoed, feigning concern. “Foreign men might like Asian women, but it’s usually just for fun.” “Genevieve, we’re old classmates, so speak up if you’re in trouble.” “Your qualifications… oh, I mean, you didn’t go to college, and you don’t have many nice clothes, so interviews might be tough. Maybe I can take you shopping for a few decent outfits? I can lend you some money if you’re short? After all, you used to be such a smart student, it’s a shame to see you like this now.” Adrian remained silent, only his fingers, gripping his wine glass, tightened slightly. His eyes were fixed on me, dark and heavy. His new girlfriend, Iris, finally couldn’t hold back. She scoffed, leaning forward slightly, her expression a mix of condescending pity and undisguised disdain. “Genevieve, right? I’ve heard about you.” “I heard you used to chase after my Adrian like a total fangirl?” “Helping him with homework, taking notes, even covering for him with teachers?” “You must have worked really hard.” She deliberately paused, savoring the eager expressions of the other classmates. “But at least you had some self-awareness, realizing that you and Adrian were worlds apart, with no future. So you ran off, though it sounds like things haven’t gone well for you?” “Now, Adrian is the heir to Leigh Enterprises, and I’ve just taken over my family’s fashion brand. I’m busy negotiating collaborations with top international design companies. If you’re in a bind, we can help you out.” I calmly sipped my water. “No need, thank you.” Iris glanced at me disdainfully, her tone shifting to one of obvious bragging. “You probably don’t know my capabilities, do you? Heard of Lumina? It’s a rising French luxury jewelry brand!” “Their chief designer is a genius who’s won international awards in Paris! Very impressive and very mysterious. I pulled a lot of strings and finally got in touch. If she could design a collaborative collection of accessories for my brand, it would definitely shake up the entire fashion world!” “Then, with a snap of my fingers, I could toss you a few scraps to live on.” Everyone immediately gasped and flattered her: “I know Lumina! Their designs have amazing taste!” “I heard that designer is incredibly good, with a sharp eye; ordinary people don’t even get noticed by her!” “Ms. Stark has such wide connections! To be able to bring in such a high-level designer, that’s truly impressive, only someone like her deserves to stand by Adrian!” Iris proudly lifted her chin, basking in their praise. This was exactly the effect she wanted to achieve with her words. “What’s the designer’s name? She sounds amazing!” someone asked curiously. “Her English name is Eileen Su, but she’s Chinese.” Iris continued to boast about the designer she spoke of. “I hear she’s very young, but incredibly talented, and holds a high position in the French design world.” “For a small brand like ours to get her on board is genuinely difficult, but I’m confident!” She leaned intimately towards Adrian. “Adrian, don’t you agree?” Adrian absently hummed in agreement. His gaze remained fixed on my face, his eyes seemingly filled with resentment, refusing to say another word. The others continued to relentlessly put me down, using it to elevate Iris. I merely picked up my water glass, took a small sip, my expression unperturbed. Just then, a soft knock came from the private room door. A young woman in a business suit, clutching a thick stack of documents, poked her head in, her face etched with urgency and respect. “Ms. Stark, I apologize for the interruption.” “I’ve brought the urgent documents you requested for the Lumina project, and about the designer…” Iris immediately pressed, “What about them? Did the designer reply? Did they agree to meet and discuss further?” Her voice was full of anticipation. The assistant, holding the documents, nodded: “I met the designer today, but she has an appointment tonight, so she’s scheduled our meeting for tomorrow.” Hearing the assistant personally confirm that she had met the mysterious designer and arranged a meeting for tomorrow, Iris’s face instantly broke into a radiant, determined smile. “Excellent!” She turned to Adrian, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “Adrian, see? I told you I could do it! I’ll seal the deal with her tomorrow!” The surrounding classmates immediately erupted in enthusiastic compliments: “Ms. Stark’s approach is truly extraordinary!” “Amazing, amazing! We’ll all be relying on Ms. Stark’s support from now on!” “Adrian is so lucky to have such a capable partner as Ms. Stark!” Amidst the flattery, Iris’s vanity was immensely satisfied. Her gaze casually swept over me, sitting quietly in the corner. “By the way, Jessica, are there any entry-level positions available at the company recently? Like for cleaning staff?” She paused, her eyes meaningfully flicking towards me. “That classmate, Genevieve, helped my boyfriend so much back then.” “I hear she doesn’t have a proper job now. As classmates, I’d like to find her a stable job, just to help her out.” The private room fell silent for a moment, followed by louder laughter and agreement. “Oh, Ms. Stark, you absolutely mustn’t! Kindness is good, but people like her, and her family, are truly best avoided!” “Exactly, exactly! You don’t know, when she disappeared without a word, her parents caused such a scene at school! They threw tantrums, blocked the principal’s office, crying and wailing, insisting the school had abducted their daughter! It even made it into the local news! The scene… ugh, it was awful! So embarrassing!” “Exactly! Her whole family is like that, utterly unreasonable! Ms. Stark, your design company is just starting; it’s a critical period. What if her parents show up at your company, causing a scene? What would you do?” Hearing this, Iris showed a look of genuine apprehension. “Is that so? Well, I’m truly sorry, Genevieve. You see, it’s not that I don’t want to help you, but my design company is just starting and not yet stable. It really can’t handle such trouble; I can’t afford to get involved with problems like you and your family.” After saying that, she deliberately leaned closer to Adrian, as if being near me would bring bad luck. Adrian only looked at me, his lips moving slightly this time, as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he frowned and held it back. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me, a spectacle of superiority and contempt. I didn’t understand why she was so keen on finding me a job. Yet I remained calm, repeating the words I had just used to refuse. “No need for trouble, I have a job, thank you.” Iris sighed, “That job of yours, maybe you should quit it. Being young and pretty has some advantages, but… it can lead to long-term issues.” A burst of mocking laughter erupted. The assistant also laughed, but as she looked at me, the professional expression on her face suddenly froze. The thick stack of urgent documents for the Lumina project she was holding in her arms slipped, scattering across the floor. White papers lay everywhere. The private room instantly fell silent. Iris frowned in displeasure, “What are you doing? Can’t you even hold these few documents?” The assistant, however, completely ignored her boss’s accusation. She pointed at me, her voice trembling with terror. “Designer Su?! You… you’re here?!”

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1 I was heading to administration to ask why every male colleague had received flowers from the CEO’s girlfriend except me, when I overheard breakroom talk. They said CEO Schmidt’s boyfriend was upset because I kept visiting her office. To placate him, she supposedly used my flower budget to buy a huge bouquet for an intern, Jay Cloud. Someone even called me an old man shamelessly chasing the CEO. I’m a tech lead—this was blatant targeting. I froze, recalling Jay Cloud’s enormous bouquet this morning, a chill in my heart. Since the company started, Olivia Schmidt had never sent me flowers. Not today, and she couldn’t even spare time for our anniversary dinner. Lately, even during our intimate moments, she’d cut things short, preoccupied with the company’s new tech challenges, fearing our competitor, the Hayes Group, would get ahead. I’d joined her company with my top-tier tech, turning down a lucrative offer from Hayes because I sympathized with her startup struggles. I became a workaholic, agreed to a secret marriage—all so she could focus without social distractions. But what happened? Faced with malicious gossip, she stayed silent and distant, yet showed obvious favoritism toward intern Jay Cloud. I looked at the hard drive in my hand, holding the latest tech updates, took a deep breath, and called the Hayes Group. “I agree to the technical equity investment. The partnership is settled!” … There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. Katherine Hayes, often called the “Ice Queen of Tech,” couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. “Ethan, you won’t regret this. I promise, your decision will be the best one you’ve ever made! Tomorrow is the East Coast bid. With your tech, we’ve got this!” No sooner had I agreed than the phone was snatched from my hand. I turned to meet Olivia Schmidt’s icy gaze, with a group of gloating employees standing behind her. She hung up my call without even looking, her tone frigid. “It’s just a bouquet of flowers. As a technical lead, do you really need to cause a scene with HR over this? If word gets out, people will think Jay is giving you trouble. What kind of impression would that make?” A bitter smile played on my lips—I hadn’t even succeeded in reaching HR, and she was already this concerned for Jay Cloud. Yet, for the past year, colleagues had branded me as an older, deluded man trying to break up her relationship, spreading vile rumors, and she had acted as if she were deaf. Seeing the boss furious, the others naturally understood and joined in the verbal assault. “Mr. Borges is such an old man, he probably never received flowers before, that’s why he cares so much, right?” “Are home-wreckers all so shameless? CEO Schmidt is avoiding suspicion and doesn’t want to give you flowers, but you still keep clinging on!” “Jay and us, young and handsome, are the ones who deserve perks. What are you, an old, faded gold-digger, even thinking about?” Every word felt like a thousand arrows piercing my heart, yet Olivia Schmidt’s face remained utterly impassive—I instantly realized that perhaps they were merely speaking her mind, which was why she was so calm. I trembled with anger, my cold gaze fixed on the woman I had been married to for seven years. “I’m also a male employee of this company. Is there a problem with me fighting for the benefits I’m entitled to?” Seeing my eyes redden, a flicker of emotion finally crossed Olivia Schmidt’s face, and she sighed softly. “If you really want…” Jay Cloud suddenly appeared, holding that bouquet of flowers, his eyes red, and interrupted her. “Mr. Borges, it’s my fault. I’m just an intern; I don’t deserve this! If you like it, it’s yours. Please don’t use your supervisor position to pressure me. I’m really scared!” His close colleagues at the company also stepped forward, snidely complaining. “CEO Schmidt, as soon as Jay received the flowers this morning, Mr. Borges made him print hundreds of pages of garbled documents within an hour. Jay’s back was breaking standing by the printer, but the printout was clearly just useless paper that no one would read. Isn’t this obvious workplace bullying?” Olivia Schmidt saw the stack of half-printed documents on the table, and that flicker of emotion instantly vanished. She snatched a stack, glaring at the indecipherable content, tore it to shreds in anger, and showered me with the pieces. “And I thought about compensating you! Our Schmidt company has always prided itself on employee welfare. You, a cruel individual who bullies subordinates, are an absolute disgrace!” Behind the fluttering paper fragments, Jay Cloud and his allies wore triumphant smiles. But Olivia Schmidt didn’t know that the papers contained my latest technical report, which I had slaved over for five sleepless nights. I had asked the intern to print it this morning because I wanted to submit it to East Coast Group, the largest client in the industry, before their bid deadline, securing the project directly. She grabbed another stack of papers and slapped me hard across the face with them. “Apologize to Jay, now!” The sharp edges of the A4 paper left several red marks on my face, but the stinging pain was nothing compared to the desolation in my heart. I bent down to pick up the documents I had painstakingly worked on, my voice as cold as my heart. “He didn’t print the files within the hour as I requested this morning because he was showing off his flowers. He’s the one who should apologize!” Olivia Schmidt’s face grew even darker. She stepped forward and grabbed my collar. “Ethan Borges, when did you become so hypocritical and malicious? You’re clearly in the wrong, willing to throw away all your dignity just for a bit of jealousy? Kneel down and apologize to Jay, and I… I might still let you stay on the team!” That group of sycophants erupted. “You rotten mistress, using your authority to bully the rightful person, and you still have the nerve to demand an apology?!” “A pile of waste paper, wasting company resources and disrupting our work. What kind of selfish wretch deserves to be a lead?” “You usually know you’re cheap, not wanting salary or benefits, just throwing yourself at CEO Schmidt. But today, for a bouquet, you finally couldn’t keep up the act, could you?” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly—when Olivia and I got married, she was dirt poor, but knowing I liked flowers, she’d often pick wild ones for me. Those days were humble, but our hearts were rich. Then she decided to start her own business, pinching every penny, with no time to give me flowers. As an already renowned tech expert in the industry, I had no choice but to invest my money and efforts to support her. It wasn’t until last year, when the company started to gain traction, expanding its team and hiring many interns, aiming to capture the market. I watched her journey, knowing her struggles as an entrepreneur, so I joined Schmidt Inc. without a salary, giving all my benefits to new hires. Even when rumors about her and Jay Cloud reached my ears, even when I knew Jay, an intern, could expense anything in the company without receipts or limits, even when he couldn’t even manage basic printing after a year, but still received a sports car as a year-end bonus—Olivia’s explanation of “to empathize with subordinates and boost team cohesion” was enough for me. But today, this benefit, I always thought she remembered my preferences and wouldn’t leave me out. Yet, I realized that all my years of patient support only earned me disdain in everyone’s eyes. I pointed at the data on the file, my heart aching as I looked at Olivia Schmidt. “This is a technical report I poured my heart and soul into. If he had followed my time requirements this morning, this document alone would have secured the East Coast bid ahead of schedule. Now it’s all ruined. Shouldn’t he be the one leaving?” Seeing me point at Jay Cloud, he rolled his eyes, tears streaming down his face. “Mr. Borges, just because I have CEO Schmidt’s favor, you’re setting such a malicious trap to harm me? No wonder you gave me a deadline to print so many documents—it was to blame me for not developing the software CEO Schmidt needed, fearing failure in tomorrow’s bid! Are you trying to hurt me so badly just to cling to CEO Schmidt?” Others chimed in. “I heard CEO Schmidt has been unhappy with the tech department for a year for not breaking through this bottleneck. This old man is really cunning, using Jay as a scapegoat!” “So it didn’t matter if the printout was garbled; it was just a way to give Jay an impossible task and shift the blame!” “He’s so malicious! No wonder he wanted to be a mistress and climb the ladder quickly; turns out he knew he was incompetent!” Olivia Schmidt’s eyes were like daggers. She shoved me onto the pile of documents on the floor. “You really went to great lengths to scheme against Jay! You offered your services for tech development, and I haven’t heard anything from you in so long. Turns out all your efforts were focused on framing Jay! Apologize to Jay immediately, or don’t even think about staying with the company!” But she forgot that when the company was just starting and couldn’t afford employees, I often filled in for all positions, including printing hundreds of documents in an hour, which was always her basic requirement. But when it came to Jay Cloud, it became me deliberately making things difficult. I gave a desolate smile, got up, brushed the paper bits off myself, took off my company ID, threw it on the floor, and started packing my things. “No need for threats. I quit now!” I printed another document, signed it, and handed it to her. “Sign it, and I’ll send you the mailing address.” Seeing the words “Divorce Agreement,” Olivia Schmidt froze, then instinctively grabbed my arm as I was about to leave— The others thought I was giving her a resignation letter and clapped in delight. Only Jay Cloud, seeing her hold onto me, instantly frowned and quickly pulled Olivia Schmidt’s arm away. “CEO Schmidt, are you trying to drag Mr. Borges back to apologize to me? If he resigns as an apology, I might not be entirely against it…” Olivia Schmidt then regained her composure. Always mindful of her public image as CEO, she quickly nodded in agreement with him. “Exactly. How can I let this cruel man leave so easily?” She yanked me back, pinning me against the wall. “If I win the bid tomorrow, I’ll be a hero immortalized in the business world! How can you just walk out now?” The ferocity and unwillingness in her eyes made it hard for me to discern if she wanted me to stay for the bid, or for the love that had been worn down to a mere inconvenience over time. But I had long lost interest in guessing her thoughts, my heart as dead as ashes as I looked directly into her eyes. “Since you think I’m incompetent, and you resent me for hindering your love life, why stop me?” Olivia Schmidt’s face stiffened. She glanced at Jay Cloud behind her, trying to cover her tracks. “You’re dereliction of duty, bullying a colleague! Don’t drag me into it!” Then she leaned close to my ear, gritting her teeth. “Is it because I’ve been busy with work these past few months and less attentive in bed that you’re making such a big deal out of a bouquet of flowers, causing all this chaos?” I shook my head silently, pushing her away hard, but the contents of the cardboard box in my arms scattered across the floor. Jay Cloud immediately picked up the most noticeable item, an album, flipped it open, and sneered. “No wonder Mr. Borges was so eager to leave Schmidt Inc.! Turns out he realized CEO Schmidt was a lost cause, so he moved on!” The others glanced at it and joined in the mockery. “Today, seeing he didn’t even get flowers, he knew CEO Schmidt was a dead end, so he started looking for his next target. How cheap! Looks like he didn’t waste any time hopping into cars to hook up with new prospects. So shameless!” But as Olivia Schmidt saw what was inside, her face turned ghastly pale— The album contained no photos, only tickets. They were from college, during the National Computer Competition, when she, as their school’s logistics manager, fell in love with me at first sight and passionately confessed. But at that time, I was already a renowned prodigy, unmatched in software technology, a world apart from her, a queen of failing grades who only cared about playing both sides. I gently rejected her, but after the competition, she came back again and again, enduring hours on trains, fighting for my attention. When we got married, she gave me all the train tickets made into an album, embracing me with tears streaming down her face. “It took me thousands of miles to win you over. How could I not cherish you?” But now, this album of tickets had become the most ridiculous irony. Seeing my silence, the employees assumed they had guessed my illicit affair correctly, and immediately pulled out their phones, pointing them at my face and starting a live stream. “I’ve never seen such a shameless home-wrecker. Fail with one, immediately go ruin the next. Everyone, beware!” Instantly, my bruised and swollen face, paired with the title “Most Afraid of an Older, Yet Driven Mistress,” spread across the entire internet. Netizens happily feasted on the gossip, slander flying freely. “So old and still wanting to be a mistress, it’s just about the easy money, isn’t it?” “Who cares if he’s incompetent professionally, he’ll just make up for it in bed!” Some also questioned, “This man looks familiar, he seems to have won many tech awards before. He should be able to make good money. Why would he need to be a mistress?” Infuriated, I grabbed Olivia Schmidt’s collar. “You know best whether I’m a mistress or not. Tell everyone…” A flicker of shame finally crossed Olivia Schmidt’s face. Just as she was about to speak, my phone chimed with a notification. Jay Cloud, seeing it, immediately became excited as if he’d discovered a new continent. He snatched my phone, showing it off like a treasure. It was a message Katherine Hayes had just sent— “I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow morning, and bring you breakfast.” She had added me on an anonymous account, so no one recognized her, and they immediately began to speculate maliciously. “Turns out he’s the most diligent old home-wrecker; they’ve already scheduled a meeting. No wonder he was in such a hurry to resign!” Even the netizens who had been defending me earlier were now furious. “So he really is a shameless, freeloading leech, how disgusting!” Just as I was about to explain, Olivia Schmidt, her eyes bloodshot, slapped me to the ground. “Ethan Borges, and I was just about to speak up for you! Turns out you really are that cheap! No wonder you were so determined to leave me; you were really going to climb into another woman’s bed! Our company doesn’t want a slut like you!” The others surrounded me, their faces grim. “Your private life is a mess, you bully colleagues, and now the whole internet despises you, disgracing the company! Even if you leave today, you have to bow down and apologize to us, or you won’t step foot out that door!” Before I could react, they kicked me in the back of the knee, sending me crashing to the ground. Someone grabbed my hair, slamming my head against the floor, instantly leaving me with a bleeding scalp. Jay Cloud, triumphant, pinched my chin, whispering in my ear, “You trash, daring to fight me for a woman! You old man deserves a lesson!” Seeing my face covered in blood, Olivia Schmidt finally regained her composure. She grabbed me and threw me into the elevator, threatening me in a furious whisper. “Get home and wait for me immediately! If you dare to bring up divorce again, just wait until I get back and deal with you!” But as the elevator doors closed, Jay Cloud’s whining voice drifted from outside. “CEO Schmidt, you promised to spend quality time with me tonight. Don’t go back on your word!” Olivia Schmidt’s tone immediately softened. “Of course. When have I ever not kept my word when you asked?” Remembering all the important dates she had missed over the past year, I smiled bitterly, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth. That night, she didn’t come home, and neither did I. The next morning, at the East Coast bid site, Olivia Schmidt, with a hickey on her neck, looked somewhat satisfied to see me appear with a bandaged wound. “I knew it. You must have stayed up all night working on the bidding proposal to win my heart back.” She leaned closer, sighing softly. “Alright, I didn’t go home last night to appease Jay for you. Seeing your good performance today, I’ll go back with you tonight. Consider it a company perk. Satisfied?” Jay Cloud, however, looked indignant when he saw me. “So you still can’t let go of CEO Schmidt. At your age, can’t you have some dignity?” The media, knowing I had been trending yesterday, immediately surrounded me with challenging questions. “You’re being called a slut by the entire industry, and you still have the nerve to show up? Have you no pride left for money?” “Did your new sugar mama dump you after watching the live stream and seeing how ‘dirty’ you are, so now you’re looking for a new woman?” “Or are you here to try and win CEO Schmidt back? Is being a simp really that much fun?” I, however, walked straight through their microphones and handed the bid proposal to the client. “The latest technology you asked for is all here. You don’t need to look at anyone else’s.” The East Coast representative was startled. After flipping through a few pages, he excitedly shook my hand. “We knew it! Wherever Mr. Borges is, that company has divine assistance!” Olivia Schmidt, seeing this, immediately bowed triumphantly to the media, boasting about her experience under the flashing lights. “Taming a man is as simple as training a dog; that’s how you unleash his full potential…” She then provocatively raised her chin at Katherine Hayes, her biggest rival. “Next time we’re around, don’t bother showing up! Today, you’ll learn who the king of this industry is!” Katherine Hayes simply smiled faintly and pointed to the stage. “How about you listen again?” The next second, the East Coast representative solemnly announced the result, leaving Olivia Schmidt stunned— “The winning bidder for this project is—of course, Hayes Group, with a tech powerhouse like Mr. Borges!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “582308”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The earthquake hit when I was nineteen, shattering the elaborate self-deception I’d built over the years. I woke to a violent tremor, still half-asleep. Through the haze, I saw Mom move with a speed I’d never witnessed before. She grabbed my younger sister, Rose, and bolted downstairs. She was a blur, nothing like her usual slow, absent-minded self. I just stood there, frozen, watching her disappear down the stairs. In that moment, a belief I’d clung to for so long crumbled to dust. Mom wasn’t slow to react. Her lightning-fast reflexes simply weren’t for me. When I was a little kid and a stray dog knocked me down, tearing at my arm, she stood nearby, her eyes blank. Only when a neighbor rushed over and pulled me to safety did she snap out of it, gasping, “Selene! What happened? Why didn’t you dodge it?” Later, when I gained weight and became a target for bullies, they’d corner me right outside our front door, beating me up. She’d watch the whole thing from the third-story window, silent. When I finally dragged myself home, bruised and battered, she’d rush over, her face a picture of innocent concern, asking, “Were they hitting you just now? Why didn’t you call me for help?” I used to tell myself she just had some kind of physical condition, that she couldn’t react quickly. But now I understood. Her “slowness” was reserved exclusively for me. In that instant, I just couldn’t take it anymore. … The ground shook violently. A loud crash from behind me—the wardrobe toppled—snapped me back to reality. I scrambled downstairs, fleeing for my life. Downstairs, Mom was panting, still clutching Rose, her eyes scanning my sister for injuries. When she saw me, she let out a surprised yelp. “Oh! Selene, you’re home too? Mom completely forgot. I thought you were still at college!” My face felt pale. A jagged nail had scraped my back as I ran out, leaving a stinging cut. Her words twisted in my gut. “Mom, I’ve been home for two days. Didn’t you know?” She didn’t bat an eye, pouting as if it were the most natural thing. “Didn’t know, honey. You know Mom sometimes takes a while to react. Selene, are you blaming me?” I swallowed, my throat dry. Just then, Dad, rushing home from work, saw the whole exchange. He walked straight up to me, slapped my shoulder hard without a word, his expression icy. “Selene Miller, did you waste all your education? Or did college make you think you can talk back to your mother like that?” His slap landed directly on my fresh wound. I gasped, a muffled cry escaping my lips. I looked up at his stern face. It had always been like this. My slow-to-react mother, coddled by my doting father, only grew more innocent and helpless over time. That time I was attacked by the dog. I’d once asked Mom why she hadn’t protected me. Before she could answer, Dad slammed his chopsticks on the table, his face dark. “Selene Miller, I’m only saying this once. Your mother is naturally slower to react than others.” “Even if you’d been mauled to death today, you’d have no right to blame her!” I flinched, my nose stinging, but I dared not cry. I just kept my head down, burying my face in my porridge, stirring it with my chopsticks. After that, I understood Mom’s “condition” and stopped blaming her. But this time… “Sis, don’t be so dramatic. You know Mom’s situation. Are you really going to pressure her?” Rose emerged from Mom’s embrace. As the clear beneficiary of the situation, her face held only a haughty contempt for me. Mom nodded in agreement, her gaze on Rose even more tender. I bit back the pain, took a deep breath. “Mom, you said you can’t react quickly. So why were you so fast when you saved Rose?” She frowned, snapping back, “I’m slow, not an idiot. Rose was right there; what, was I supposed to just leave her?” Her words made my wound ache even more. “But I was home too. Why didn’t you call me? Why did you forget me?” Mom choked, clearly caught off guard by my uncharacteristic assertiveness. She stammered, unable to find an answer. I managed a weak smile. “How many times, since I was born, has this happened?” “Mom, are you truly slow to react, or do you just not care if I live or die?” The more I spoke, the more the unfairness swelled, my voice rising, choked with emotion. Neighbors had started to gather around. “Selene, why is she acting out today? We all know about your mom’s condition; why bother with this?” “I think it’s because Rose is so smart and pretty. She’s just jealous and making a scene.” Everyone chimed in, dissecting me from head to toe. My fists clenched, my face growing paler. Mom stood by, watching silently, not defending me, but rather nodding along with their criticism. Dad gave me a shove. “That’s enough. Apologize to your mother, and cut out the attitude. It’s not a good look!” I pressed my lips together. This time, I didn’t back down as usual. Instead, I jutted out my chin and said, “I did nothing wrong, and I won’t apologize!” Dad’s face darkened instantly. His short temper flared, and he slapped me across the face with all his might. Already in pain and weakened, my vision swam. To the shock of the onlookers, I collapsed with a thud, fainting at Mom’s feet. 2 I woke up two days later. The doctor said I’d fainted due to tetanus, an infection from the wound. I glanced around the empty bedside and asked, “Has anyone come to see me?” “Yes, your father just left. He went to pay the bill.” I was silent for a moment. “No one else?” He nodded, gave me some instructions, and left. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, still foolishly hoping Mom would show up. I opened my phone. A new update on Mom’s social media: photos of her and Rose at a resort, all smiles. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside. I looked up as the door burst open. It was Mom, flustered and anxious. To my surprise, she rushed to my bedside. “Oh my goodness, Selene, you actually fainted? That day, I thought you just suddenly fell asleep!” “Your back is hurt? Was it because of the earthquake?” “It’s all Mom’s fault for reacting so slowly, otherwise I would have been here to take care of you right away.” I watched her quietly, then laughed, a hollow, absurd sound. I just couldn’t believe anyone could be that slow to react! Especially if I hadn’t seen her social media updates, showing her and Rose on vacation for the past two days, I might have actually believed her concern. But now, it seemed she’d had her fun and was only deigning to visit me, conveniently manufacturing an excuse for her absence. “Mom, where have you been?” Rose, beside her, beamed with a triumphant look. “Where else? Mom took me to…” Before she could finish, Mom pulled her arm and flashed me a forced smile. “Nowhere, just at home.” I scoffed, opened the social media post, and tossed my phone onto the bed. “If you’re going on vacation, you could at least block me.” She froze, then flushed, stammering for an explanation. Finally, like Dad, she dropped the act, her patience completely gone. “So what if I took your sister on a trip? Do I need your permission to go somewhere?” “Besides, I wasn’t intentionally not visiting you! I told you, I didn’t realize you fainted!” “Selene Miller, why are you so pushy, so unreasonable!” Her voice was loud, jarring. Her aggressive deflection chilled me to the bone. “Forget it,” I said with a scoff, lifting my head coolly. “Just leave. You don’t need to pretend to care.” Mom’s face stiffened, and the room’s atmosphere plummeted to freezing. Just then, Dad and my aunt, Aunt Carol, walked in. Aunt Carol frowned, stepping forward to scold me. “Selene, you should be respectful when speaking to your elders.” Seeing she had backup, Mom immediately burst into tears, hiding behind them. I felt a weariness deep in my bones. “Aunt Carol, do you know what happened? Dad probably didn’t tell you, so I will.” Dad frowned, too late to stop me. My aunt, hearing the story, turned a disapproving gaze on Mom. “Sister-in-law, that’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?” Mom choked again, unable to explain, her anger flaring. “I am slow to react! I could only save one, and I just didn’t remember Selene was home! Can you blame me for that?” She then rounded on me, scolding, “Selene Miller, I came to see you out of kindness, and instead of appreciating your mother’s efforts, you team up with everyone else to complain about me!” “I didn’t do it on purpose!” “I think you’ve just held a grudge against me all these years!” I took a deep breath, shaking my head. There was no getting through to her. “Think what you want. After I’m discharged, I’m moving out, so I won’t be an eyesore.” But at that, she immediately exploded. “What do you mean? You’re moving out? Are you trying to make the neighbors gossip about me, say I’m a cruel mother?” I paused, realizing I just wanted to leave. Then I cast her a cold glance. “Mom, how come your reaction time isn’t ‘slow’ this time? You’re thinking faster than I am.” Aunt Carol looked at Mom suspiciously, and Mom’s face paled. 3 She bristled, glaring at me. Dad, who had been silent, finally lost his temper. He kicked my hospital bed. Bang! The jarring impact sent a jolt through me, almost knocking me off the mattress. “Selene Miller! What kind of attitude is that?!” I fell silent. Mom seized the opportunity, squeezing out a couple of tears. My sister, Rose, immediately went to protect Mom, adding fuel to the fire. “Sis, did the earthquake hit your head? What’s wrong with you, attacking Mom like this?” “I can’t stand it. Don’t you know that Mom is like this because of you?!” I frowned, confused. Mom’s expression grew even more aggrieved. Rose, her face flushed, blurted out everything. “Mom almost bled out giving birth to you, and her brain was damaged, which is why she reacts so slowly!” “She pitied you, afraid you’d blame yourself, so she never said anything.” “And you! Just because she didn’t grab you, you won’t stop nagging?” My face went blank. “What?” Aunt Carol looked surprised, then immediately shifted sides, becoming Mom’s ally. “Selene, that’s not right of you.” Dad’s expression was equally grim. He held Mom tightly, who remained tearfully silent. I pressed my pale lips together, still unable to speak. Mom sniffled, then magnanimously reassured me. “It’s okay. Mom doesn’t blame you. You’re upset. Mom will come see you in a few days.” With that, they all left one by one. I looked up just in time to see Rose and Mom exchange a knowing, enigmatic smile. I didn’t dwell on it, lost in the words I’d just heard, my thoughts tangled. The next day, after being discharged, I tossed and turned all night. My mind felt restless, so I got out of bed and went to the kitchen, wanting a glass of ice water to cool down. As I stepped out, I heard hushed whispers from the balcony. “Good thing I made you come up with an excuse earlier, otherwise your sister would have been all over me again.” “That Selene girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Ever since that earthquake, she’s become so petty.” My steps faltered. The ice water in my hand sloshed out. Rose, curious, asked, “So, Mom, is your reaction time really slower than most people?” Mom paused, cleared her throat. “Of course. But no matter how slow, if my precious Rosebud is in danger, I can react instantly.” Rose immediately threw herself into Mom’s arms, laughing and cuddling. My eyes froze. I quietly retreated to my room. Sitting on the bed, I let out a sharp, cold laugh. My entire day of guilt felt like a cruel joke. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the front door, followed by familiar curses. “Open up! Rachel, I’m your brother, are you really going to let me die?!” Rachel was Mom’s name, and the frantic man outside was my uncle, a gambling addict deep in debt. I jumped, reflexively shrinking into a ball in the corner. When I was little, my gambling uncle, owing a massive debt, came up with the idea of selling a child. He set his sights on me. He arranged for someone to easily take me from Mom, using a flimsy excuse. I was terrified, sensing something was wrong, and cried desperately. My cries alerted a passing police patrol, who rescued me, but I already had several injuries. Mom arrived at the police station, looked at me, and after a long moment, exaggeratedly covered her mouth. “Oh my goodness, Selene, he was trying to sell you!” “It’s all Mom’s fault. I only just realized I shouldn’t have let a stranger take you.” But later, when Rose was born, she never allowed my uncle or anyone else to even get close to Rose… Lost in thought, the knocking stopped. I sat by the bed all night. When the sky began to lighten, I finally stood, dragging my numb body to pack my bags. A little while later, I opened the door, bag in hand. That’s when I saw the living room filled with neighbors and relatives. 4 Dad frowned. “What’s gotten into you now? It’s your mother’s birthday today, hurry up and help with the cooking!” Mom saw my bags and also froze, then started complaining. “Selene? Are you still throwing a tantrum? Everything I do is because of you. You’re choosing this exact moment to leave, just to make the neighbors say I’m a heartless woman?” Rose, eating her favorite shrimp dumplings, glanced at me without a word. My fingers clenched. I was allergic to seafood and hated shrimp dumplings, yet Rose loved them, and Mom made them every day. The favoritism had always been woven into the fabric of our daily lives. “Selene, you’re such a hothead,” Old Mrs. Jones from next door pouted. “We all know the ins and outs of what happened. You’re really being unreasonable.” “Yeah, nineteen and still so childish. I guess she went to college for nothing.” Mom didn’t say a single word in my defense. She knew the truth, yet she let them scold me. Facing their accusations, I scoffed. “You’re all just here for the drama! This is my family’s business, what do any of you really know?” Old Mrs. Jones immediately bristled. “Huh! What do you mean we don’t know? We all know about your mom’s condition, why are you blaming her?” “Sure, she almost let you get kidnapped, and you were bitten by a dog, but your mom just couldn’t react in time. She was upset and hurt too.” “You’re nineteen, it’s time to grow up. Rose is even better than you.” Rose, hearing this, looked smug, adding fuel to the fire. “Exactly, sis. You’re too petty. I can’t believe you’re still like this, even after knowing the truth about Mom’s condition.” “I feel bad for Mom.” Mom looked at me, her expression disappointed. “Selene, I’ve never deprived you of food or clothes all these years. I took care of you with all my heart, and I can’t believe that just because I didn’t react in time to pull you during an earthquake, you hate me so much.” I clenched my fists, looking at them standing opposite me, while I stood alone and helpless. My gaze grew darker. “Think what you want. From today on, I will never return to this house.” “It’ll free up space for your family of three.” Dad’s face turned grim, and Mom sighed. “Fine. If you insist on leaving, then you’ll need to sign an agreement.” I frowned. “What agreement?” She pulled something from behind her, as if she’d prepared it in advance. “An agreement stating you are voluntarily disowning us.” “To prevent people from talking behind my back later.” My fingertips gripping the paper turned white. I suddenly laughed, my eyes filled with mockery. “Mom, at a time like this, your reaction is surprisingly fast.” Her face stiffened at my sarcasm. Old Mrs. Jones, who already disliked me, began inciting the others to verbally attack me. “What a heartless girl. Rachel, I told you it wasn’t worth it, getting your nerves messed up for her sake!” Aunt Carol, who had just walked in, also looked at me with displeasure. “Selene, apologize to your mother right now. We’ll let this go.” She turned stern. “I hear you’re applying for a national scholarship, right? If you’re so unfilial, I don’t think you deserve that award.” Aunt Carol taught at my university. If she wanted to, she could really sabotage the national scholarship I had worked so hard to earn. Faced with their relentless pressure, I lowered my eyes, then let out a cold laugh. After a silent pause, I tossed a yellowed report onto the table in front of everyone. In the next second, I saw Mom’s face drastically change.

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1 At the wedding, as the officiant called out, “You may now kiss the bride,” Professor Davies’s student suddenly stood up, interrupting the ceremony. She announced that Selene, his research assistant, was getting married tomorrow, a decision made because Professor Davies had broken her heart. Professor Davies’s eyes changed instantly. He dropped the wedding ring and sprinted down the aisle. I snatched the microphone, yelling after his retreating figure, “If you walk out today, we are done for good.” He faltered, just for a second, but then got in his car and drove off without a backward glance. I stood on the stage and smiled. Professor Davies, there’s no such thing as having your cake and eating it too. You chose your love; don’t blame me for taking your career. I should have realized it much earlier. That day, as we lay entwined, at the peak of intimacy, his throat rumbled as he whispered “Selene.” In that moment, I knew he had feelings for his young research assistant. Afterwards, still breathless, I gave him one last chance, asking if he wanted to get married the next day. He rejected it without a second thought, saying he had to accompany Selene abroad for a closed-door research project. I told him: either stay, or the engagement is off. There was no third option. Allergic to alcohol, he drank all night. He woke up the next day, eyes bloodshot, saying he wouldn’t go. But from then on, he started secretly drinking, ending up in the ER for stomach pumping again and again. Now, he had finally chosen her. … One minute after Professor Davies left, the murmurs from the audience erupted into a chorus of whispers and pointed fingers. “Professor Davies just ditched his bride and eloped with his mistress. Isn’t that a public slap in the face for the Sterling family?” “I can’t believe even a powerful socialite like Ms. Scarlett Sterling could be jilted!” “Guess even someone as level-headed as Professor Davies couldn’t handle her high-maintenance attitude!” The gossip filled my ears. Professor and Mrs. Davies’s faces were paler than mine. “Scarlett, what happened today is completely Frank’s fault. Don’t worry, tonight we’ll tie him up and bring him back to consummate the marriage!” “Mr. Davies, aren’t you shameless?” My mom scoffed, stepping forward to shield me. “Today, Frank didn’t just disrespect my daughter; he openly defied the entire Sterling family!” My dad and brother stood, their expressions icy, radiating an overwhelming pressure. Mrs. Davies, pale, pleaded with me. “Scarlett, Frank was just seduced by that vixen! You know he’s always been upright; he’d never act like this before!” “Before?” I scoffed, savoring the word. Professor Davies was a renowned university professor, usually quiet and somewhat awkward. He wouldn’t even send a cash gift on holidays, let alone celebrate various festivals. Whenever I brought it up, he’d brush me off impatiently: “Scarlett, those holidays are a waste of time and energy. I don’t have the patience for that.” So, I made excuses for him again and again in front of my parents and friends. But on my birthday, when he forgot again, his seemingly clueless student, Selene, posted on social media. [So grateful to my beloved mentor for the 99th gift!] The picture showed a bed laden with various designer bags, cosmetics, and jewelry—Hermès, Chanel, the works. Total value in the millions. That night, Professor Davies, to make amends, initiated intimacy. But he didn’t know that the name he cried out in passion exposed his true beloved. Afterward, he seized the opportunity to suggest going abroad with Selene for a three-year research project. That day, I finally saw clearly: Professor Davies wasn’t incapable of love; he simply wasn’t willing to love me. I slapped away Mrs. Davies’s clutching hand. My voice was calm. “From today on, my engagement to Professor Davies is off.” If he wouldn’t love, then no one would. “Off?!” Mr. Davies bellowed, then, remembering something, forced a smile. “Scarlett, then you’ll still agree to help me with the funding issues for my company, won’t you?” Before I could speak, my brother sneered. “Mr. Davies, you’ve got some nerve. The engagement’s off, so of course, all other agreements are null and void!” Mr. and Mrs. Davies’s faces turned ashen. Only our two families knew that Professor Davies’s company was facing a severe funding crisis. This “marriage” was more of a strategic merger for him to save his family’s business. Too bad he blew it. As I turned to leave, Mr. Davies, not giving up, rushed in front of me, his face contorted. “Scarlett, don’t worry, I’ll give you an explanation tonight!” I didn’t think much of it. Back home, I made a bonfire of all the academic papers and gifts Professor Davies had ever given me. I used to think he was just unromantic, cherishing his perfunctory academic papers as if they were treasures. After the fire died down, a message popped up on my phone. Selene had posted on social media again, bragging profusely. [Finally got a taste of my crush’s meat!] The accompanying picture showed red teeth marks on a man’s chest, leaving nothing to the imagination. I smiled, taking a screenshot. The next second, Professor Davies’s call came in. “Scarlett, running out on the wedding today was wrong of me, but Selene is my student. I can’t just ignore her if she does something foolish.” I laughed. “Foolish? What’s her marriage got to do with you, Professor Davies? You publicly humiliated me today; you should have expected the consequences.” My words choked Professor Davies. An impatient voice came through the phone. “Are you done with your tantrum? I’ve already told you we’re completely innocent. If your mind is dirty, fine, but to maliciously frame and spread rumors? Scarlett, how did you become like this?” “Alright, my dad has already lectured me. Go handle the investment matter quickly. I’ll be back once I’ve had a talk with Selene.” Listening to his feigned righteousness, I found it laughable. He was the one who claimed to be reserved, asking for my understanding, then turned around and joked with his female student. He was the one who used work as an excuse to ignore my birthday, yet painstakingly prepared exquisite gifts for his student. He was the one who, for the happiness of someone else, demanded I be humiliated at my own wedding. I had given him countless chances to choose. But he chose to publicly abandon me at the altar, shaming me. I had loved him, but no more. I almost blocked and deleted his number, but the call hadn’t ended. Selene’s provocative voice came through. “Professor, who has a better figure, me or your fiancée?” “…You.” I raised an eyebrow, quietly starting a recording. Then I contacted the private investigator staked out at Professor Davies’s villa. “Tonight, record their every position, every move, from start to finish.” Professor Davies, you can come back, but you’ll find no one at your side. Indeed, at 5 AM, Professor Davies was forced by his father to return to my house. The moment he walked in, he dumped several large boxes of cosmetics and gift sets at my feet. “Scarlett Sterling! How long are you going to push my dad? Just because of a few boxes of cosmetics, you’re going to take it out on the company? Using your position for personal vendettas—you weren’t like this before!” “You’re not getting any younger. What’s wrong with using more?” His words stung, deliberately twisting a knife into me. I scoffed, stepping forward and tearing open his shirt, revealing the teeth marks underneath. Professor Davies froze. “Selene’s cat bit me…” I sneered, remembering how Professor Davies had deliberately hidden his identity as the eldest son of the Davies family when he pursued me. I was moved by his seemingly naive approach to courtship. Later, when he claimed to be aloof, pouring his heart into research and disdaining money, it was I who funded him from behind the scenes. I even brought in friends from my circle to invest and support him. With a few dismissive words, he had painted me as nothing but a jealous, petty woman. His phone rang. He answered, then hastily left. Before he did, he warned me. “Scarlett Sterling, if you still want me to marry you, behave yourself, don’t cause trouble. Hurry up and deal with the company’s issues. I don’t have time for your drama.” Three minutes later, Selene posted on social media again. [Tamed my crush like a dog, he comes running whenever I call.] My eyes flickered. I turned and sent a message to the exclusive group chat for heirs and heiresses of high-society families in the capital. “All funding for Professor Davies’s lab, halt it immediately.” Replies flooded in instantly: “Scarlett, copy that.” He wants to help Selene reach new heights? I’ll make sure he does. But without basic funding, how long could they really last? What I didn’t expect was the commotion outside the company the next afternoon. My assistant ran in, drenched in sweat. “Ms. Sterling, it’s bad! Professor Davies brought several students and lab personnel to the company, demanding an explanation!” I narrowed my eyes. Through the transparent skylight, I clearly saw a dozen people holding banners that read: [Capitalist Scarlett Sterling, stop hijacking scientific research!] [Capitalists out of the investment world!] … I suppressed the thumping in my chest and gave the security guards downstairs the order to let them in. Ten seconds later, a dozen people stormed into my office. The moment Selene saw me, she dropped to her knees, crying hysterically and slapping herself, wailing. “Ms. Sterling, I know you’ve always disliked me. You can have anyone hit me or curse me, even disfigure me, but you can’t instigate others to get jealous and withdraw funding!” “If you’re unhappy, just slap me yourself!” The sound of slapping echoed through the room. Professor Davies suddenly rushed from behind, tenderly pulling the woman to her feet. “Selene, stand tall! This has nothing to do with you!” Then he glared at me, his voice chilling. “Scarlett Sterling, your withdrawal of funding is a matter of national importance, not a toy for you capitalists!” I remained silent, coolly observing the unfolding drama. After Professor Davies spoke, the students and researchers behind him, fueled by his words, were agitated. Some grabbed their phones, live-streaming directly into my face, yelling indignantly. “Folks, live broadcast of a capitalist hindering scientific progress! Bullying students!” Others, carrying red paint, ambushed me from behind, deliberately splashing me. I was drenched, the sticky paint spreading over my limbs. Selene, not giving up, knelt before me again. She tore off the bandage on her face for the camera. The horrifying scar was revealed for a moment, making everyone gasp. I looked down at her with disdain. “Ms. Sterling, please let us go! I know everything started because of me. Whatever you say, I’m willing to do!” Then, she crawled closer to me on her knees and whispered, “Scarlett Sterling, so what if your parents are the richest people in the capital? Professor Davies despises elites like you the most!” “He’ll only be mine. You can’t take him away.” The next second, she dramatically pulled out a hidden knife and stabbed herself in the abdomen. Warm blood splattered across my face. Selene’s eyes widened in terror, her trembling finger pointing at me. Everyone was startled by the sudden turn of events, and they all pointed at me, yelling. “Murder! The capitalist is a murderer!” Professor Davies’s face was as black as thunder. He shoved me aside with a fierce push, picking up Selene and roaring, “Call 911!” I stared coldly at the woman’s triumphant smirk, my hands unconsciously clenching. After Selene was taken away by the ambulance, Professor Davies approached me, his face dark. “Are you satisfied now that you’ve killed her?” The crowd stirred again, a new wave of angry accusations aimed at me, followed by furious smashing of objects. As the situation spiraled out of control, I curled my lips into an amused smile. “You’re saying I deliberately murdered her? How about we check the security footage and confront each other publicly? If I really killed Selene, I’m willing to go to jail.” At my words, the angry shouts from the crowd slowly subsided. In the live stream, the initial skepticism from viewers had begun. [No way, you guys are being swayed by public opinion. I don’t think this woman would be stupid enough to kill someone, right?] [Can’t say for sure, what if?] [I also think this woman wouldn’t be that dumb. On the contrary, that woman just now seemed a bit unstable.] Professor Davies stared intently at me, his brows deeply furrowed. “Scarlett Sterling, you’re the CEO of Sterling Corp. It’s possible you deliberately tampered with the surveillance footage.” “Selene is my student. If you want to harm her, you’ll have to go through me first.” With that, he didn’t give up. He pulled out his phone, flipped the camera, and with bloodshot eyes, accused me. “Scarlett Sterling is my fiancée. During this time, she’s certainly, out of childish jealousy, caused harm to many people. As her fiancée, I apologize, but I won’t play favorites. I clarify here that everything she did to my student, Selene, is true.” “As for her disruption of research funding and attempted murder, I will not defend her in court.” Having said that, Professor Davies decisively ended the live stream and left with his group. Someone wanted to turn back and insult me, but he was forcefully led away. I stood silently. My assistant nervously swallowed. “Ms. Sterling, less than a minute after the live stream ended, Sterling Corp’s stock plummeted ten points.” I suppressed the turmoil in my heart. “Contact the PR department. Prepare a swift clarification.” However, my clarification couldn’t catch up with the speed of Professor Davies and Selene’s slander. Tabloids relentlessly edited videos, maliciously portraying me as a murderer and a fund-withdrawer. My social media accounts were besieged by trolls and haters. Keyboard warriors even sent me razor blades by mail. On the street, people called me an “academic vampire.” All the projects Sterling Corp had previously collaborated on, even contracts that had already passed, were either withdrawn or had their compensation demands inflated. As public opinion spiraled, my brother called. “Scarlett, you’ve gone too far this time. Professor Davies and his family are bribing major platforms’ online trolls and influential lawyers across the city to deny you legal recourse.” “They’re claiming you maliciously destroyed a major national project, and even some high-ranking officials are asking questions. Those old board members want you to apologize to the Davies family, agree to the marriage, and fix their funding issues.” “You…” I took a deep breath, hung up the phone, and unblocked a number I’d previously blacklisted. “Let’s meet.” Half an hour later, Professor Davies brought me to Selene’s hospital room. “Apologize.” I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry.” The man’s expression softened considerably. He flicked the ash from his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. “Scarlett Sterling, so you can be pushed to the brink too, huh?” “But back then, Selene was just like you are now, even more miserable.” I lifted my eyelids. “What do I need to do for you to let me go?” Professor Davies crossed his legs, leaning casually back on the leather sofa, and asked Selene indifferently, “Selene, what do you want?” Selene feigned innocence, biting her index finger. “I… I just hope to clear the air with Ms. Sterling.” Professor Davies, however, ruffled her hair with a helpless look. “I know you’re timid, so your professor will help you.” “Scarlett Sterling, restore the Davies family’s funding, tell your rich friends to cancel the withdrawal of research investments, and since Selene’s face was disfigured by you, arrange for her skin graft.” “Apologize to Selene on all platforms. After you’ve done all that, I might consider getting married.” I scoffed, a laugh devoid of humor, and stared at him intently before turning to leave. That “I’m sorry” was an apology to my past self for being so blind. But he had a lot of nerve. A truly outrageous demand. If I gave it to him, did he even deserve it? Stepping out of the hospital room, I immediately contacted the private investigator to retrieve the recorded videos and photos, and compiled the evidence of his lab’s illegal use of materials that my black card account had uncovered earlier. Since he loved it so much, all this evidence would be enough to keep them busy for a lifetime. Having finished up, I walked out of the hospital. The moment I stepped out, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head. My vision went black, and I tumbled backward. When I opened my eyes again, blinding surgical lights shone directly on my face. My body trembled. My hands and feet were tightly bound with iron chains. Professor Davies walked in, his expression cold. “Scarlett Sterling, do you think a hospital is a place you can just come and go as you please? You’ve had enough time; have you thought it over?” My heart suddenly clenched, a vein throbbing in my forehead. “Professor Davies, if you dare lay a hand on me, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!” The man, holding Selene’s hand, approached me. “Selene’s face—if it weren’t for your meddling and cancellation of funding, how would we have used inferior materials? She wouldn’t have been disfigured!” “Do you think an apology will make everything alright?” I gritted my teeth, my blood boiling. “She injured her own face!” But Professor Davies chose to ignore my explanation, coldly instructing the doctor beside him. “Begin. Take the softest layer from her face. I’m worried Selene might reject it.” The sharp needle pierced my skin. My pupils constricted, my body trembling uncontrollably from pain and resentment. My screams grew fainter and fainter. Professor Davies then entered, his gaze filled with a feigned guilt as it fell upon my bandaged face. “Scarlett, I will marry you.” I gathered all my strength and slapped him. He turned his head, a slight smirk playing on his lips. The next moment, I was violently dragged and shoved into a car. When I emerged, a crowd of reporters, armed with cameras and microphones, swarmed my face. Professor Davies forcefully pressed me onto a seat at a press conference. He spoke in a soft, coaxing tone. “Scarlett, clarify everything, pave the way for Selene’s future, and it will all be over.” My fists beneath the table trembled. I listened to the reporters below, their eyes glinting, firing off one sharp, damning question after another. A faint smile played on my lips. Professor Davies, do you think you have me cornered? I had been prepared for this…

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I finally understood why Justin Rauch had brought Linda, his research assistant with a heart condition, to live with us. When Cole Stone, soaked to the bone, with one eye shadowed, stood at our doorstep, I truly felt the powerful pull of a “first love.” I didn’t hesitate to let him stay in the mansion, my heart filled with pity. Years apart, he had become sickly and melancholic. The slightest touch would send shivers through him. I poured all my energy into him, gently coaxing and caring for him. I even lost the strength to argue with Linda or yell hysterically at Justin. Justin, however, completely broke down. His eyes red, he demanded, “Luna, I’m your husband. Why are you always siding with him?” 1 The next time I saw Cole Stone, it was raining heavily outside. I leaned under the eaves of the villa, gazing at the dark sky, my heart filled with despair. Linda had mentioned she’d never seen the ocean, and Justin had forgotten our wedding anniversary, dropped all his work, and flown her to the Maldives. This wasn’t the first time. Ever since Linda returned from abroad, everything about her took precedence over me. At dinner, it had to be her favorite dishes. When going out, it had to be places she wanted to visit. I kept telling myself that Linda had a heart condition, that she was pitiful, and I should be accommodating. Until Justin’s birthday. I put on his favorite seductive red dress and straddled his lap. Justin’s breath hitched instantly, and he fiercely pushed me down. Just then, a unique phone ringtone chimed. I knew it was the exclusive ringtone Justin had set for Linda. I desperately wanted him to ignore it, to be lost in passion for me. But it wasn’t to be. The ringtone only rang for three seconds before the desire in his eyes completely vanished. He answered the call, spoke a few words, then grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door. He left me, disheveled, lying alone on the sofa. Even then, I was still reassuring myself: What if something really had happened to Linda? After all, her health truly wasn’t good. I talked myself into feeling better for a long time. But the moment I opened my phone, I saw Linda’s latest social media post. The photo showed a rather unappetizing cake, with crooked English letters and a very poorly drawn design. My gaze was instantly drawn to a finger accidentally visible in the corner of the photo. On that finger, was my identical wedding ring. It was Justin. I instinctively tried to find an excuse for them, but Linda’s caption left my mind blank. She wrote: [My knight hasn’t broken his vows and will always protect his princess, but this time the princess isn’t hurt. Instead, she’s prepared a little surprise for her knight—a cake made by the princess herself! Happy Birthday, my most loyal knight~] So, nothing had happened to her. My heart felt like it had been brutally torn open, the pain making my eyes red, curling into a ball, trembling uncontrollably. By noon the next day, Justin returned from Linda’s, and we had a massive argument. The outcome of this argument was not good; Justin moved Linda into our house. Of course, I disagreed, hysterically telling her to get out of our home. Linda immediately had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. After that, my life seemed to fall into a cycle. It began with an argument with Justin and ended with Linda in the hospital. Over and over again. Now, all that was left was exhaustion. Even with all the lights on in the house, I felt no warmth, only loneliness. Just then, I looked up, as if sensing something, and met a pair of familiar yet unfamiliar eyes. 2 It was Cole Stone. He stood under a distant streetlamp, looking much changed. He was thinner, devoid of his former carefree swagger. His slightly long hair obscured one eye. He wasn’t holding an umbrella. The rain had soaked his white shirt, making him look disheveled and pathetic. Suddenly, his body trembled. As if realizing I was watching him, he immediately turned to leave. But something seemed wrong with his body. After just two steps, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. I instantly forgot my self-pity, rushed into the rain, and helped him up. “Cole, are you okay?” Under the faint glow of the streetlamp, I finally saw Cole’s face clearly. “What happened to your eye?” I asked, surprised. One of Cole’s eyes had completely turned gray, hazy and devoid of any light. He turned his head away, like a timid puppy, hiding his entire face in the shadows, his voice trembling as he said, “This eye… can’t see…” My heart ached for him. He was the moonlight I had once chased in my youth, and I never imagined he would become like this. I helped him inside, grabbed a clean bath towel, and handed it to him. “Hurry, take a hot shower. Don’t catch a cold!” Cole nodded silently, lowering his eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt. I quickly turned my back. “You go ahead and wash. I’ll get you some clean clothes.” I rushed to the walk-in closet, grabbed a pair of Justin’s pajamas, but found Cole still standing by the bathroom door, his fingers clumsily wrestling with the buttons. Seeing my confused gaze, Cole lowered his head in embarrassment. “I… after losing my eye, my limbs feel a bit out of control. The doctor said it’s sensory integration disorder…” As he spoke, he shivered, and his lips lost color, turning pale. I immediately lost all reason, dropping the clothes and rushing over. “It’s okay, I’ll help you!” Cole was very compliant, standing still as I unbuttoned his shirt, one by one. My fingers accidentally brushed his cold skin. He shivered lightly, then his ear tips turned bright red. He suddenly grabbed my hand, whispering, “I… I can do it myself…” I also became self-conscious belatedly. Just as I was about to let go, I heard an angry shout from outside the door. “Luna, what are you doing?!” I turned around to see Justin standing in the doorway, his shoulder half-soaked. I couldn’t help but frown. “Why are you back?” “Why am I back? So I can wait for you to cheat on me?!” Justin’s face was furious, but I only found him utterly unreasonable. “Justin, watch your mouth. Cole is an old friend of mine. There’s nothing going on between us!” “Nothing going on? I saw you taking off his clothes with my own eyes. How is that ‘nothing going on’?” “Are you done or not? I told you…” Just as I was about to argue with Justin, Cole grabbed my hand. “Luna, it’s all my fault. Don’t argue with your husband over me.” Then he bowed to Justin. “Brother, please don’t misunderstand Luna. My health isn’t good. She was just helping me. I just wanted to see Luna today. I’ve seen her, so I’ll leave now and won’t bother you.” His voice was trembling as he spoke. I immediately felt compassion and grabbed his hand. “Cole, ignore him. You’re staying here for a few days. I’ll take good care of you.” “Luna, are you insane?! Who invites someone of the opposite sex to live in their home and take care of them?!” No sooner had Justin’s words fallen than a weak voice sounded from behind him. “Justin, are you arguing with my sister again because of me?” 3 Justin’s expression froze. He was speechless for a long moment. When he didn’t respond, Linda stepped forward. Seeing Cole, she also faltered. But the next second, her eyes turned red, and she pleaded with me, almost tearfully, “It’s all my fault, Sister Luna. I shouldn’t have said I’d never seen the ocean. That way, Justin wouldn’t have left you to take me to the Maldives.” “Luckily, it rained heavily today, and the plane couldn’t take off. Justin can spend tonight with you. I’ll leave now.” Justin’s face immediately filled with distress. “Linda, you don’t need to leave. This is your home. You can stay as long as you like!” Normally, I would have argued with Justin, demanding to know how he could make decisions about a house that was half mine. But now, I immediately nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Cole, the same goes for you. This is your home. Stay as long as you want, don’t mind what anyone else says.” Justin looked at me in disbelief. “Luna, are you calling me ‘anyone else’? Have you forgotten? I’m your husband!” Hearing that, before I could react, Linda clutched her chest and softly whimpered, “Justin, I’m hurting.” Justin instantly forgot everything else, scooping Linda into his arms and carrying her back to the room. I also breathed a sigh of relief, quickly nudging Cole towards the shower. Then I found Justin’s most expensive silk bedsheets and spread them out in the guest room. After getting everything ready, I went back to wait by the bathroom door. Cole had sensory integration disorder; I was worried he might have difficulty. While waiting, I ran into Justin coming downstairs to get medicine for Linda. He looked at me and sneered, “Luna, you don’t need to debase yourself for another man just to spite me.” I was about to curse him out, but then I heard the bathroom door open. Justin’s eyes instantly widened. He raised his voice in disbelief. “Luna, you actually put my pajamas on this… this stranger!” Cole, fresh out of the shower, became instantly flustered. He pressed his lips together and said, “Luna, I didn’t know these were Brother Justin’s clothes. I’ll go change right now.” I quickly pulled him back. “Change what? Your clothes are soaked. Just wear these.” Then I turned to scold Justin. “Can’t you be less petty? Are you really so stingy about a single pair of pajamas?” Justin’s chest heaved with anger. “Is this about the clothes?! Luna, do you even remember who the man of this house is?!” Just then, Linda suddenly emerged from the room. “Justin, what’s happening? Why did it take you so long to get the medicine?” She was wearing Justin’s and my matching couple’s pajamas, a bracelet Justin had given me for my birthday was on her wrist, and a Miu Miu hair clip I’d bought last week was in her hair. Justin was uncharacteristically silent. He placed the medicine in Linda’s hand, then, as she began to try and keep him there, he said, “You rest. I have something else to do.” He then grabbed my arm and dragged me into our bedroom. He clearly had something to say, but I didn’t want to hear it. I kicked him away and walked out. Only after making sure Cole was completely settled did I return to my room. Justin had been waiting for me for a long time. He sat by the window, surrounded by smoke, the ashtray in front of him overflowing with cigarette butts. I frowned, walked over, and pushed open the window. “All you do is smoke, smoke, smoke! Can’t you learn from Cole? He never smokes!” Justin nearly choked, coughing for half a minute before recovering, then gritted his teeth and said, “Luna, do you have nothing else to talk about besides Cole?” “No, just like you have nothing to talk about with me besides Linda.” Hearing me mention Linda’s name, Justin’s expression grew impatient again. He was about to accuse me of being petty, but then he turned and saw the wedding anniversary cake on the table. It sat there, lonely and untouched. It was then that he suddenly remembered: today was our fifth wedding anniversary. Justin’s tone softened abruptly. “Luna, I’m sorry. I forgot today was our wedding anniversary. I’ll make it up to you.” “I’ve already scheduled heart surgery for Linda. After her recovery, I’ll send her away, okay?” When Justin was gentle, his deep, pool-like eyes could almost drown a person. I almost agreed to his terms. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, and Cole’s voice came through.

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On the set of a live reality show, the celebrity everyone privately nicknamed “The Viper” suddenly snatched my phone. She announced she was doing a surprise “phone inspection” for the cameras. The thing is, I only have one contact in my entire phonebook. The name is saved as “My Sweetest Heart.” When she saw that, her eyes lit up. Without a second’s hesitation, she mashed the call button. A few seconds later, her own phone started ringing. The live-stream chat exploded. 1 And The Viper? She absolutely lost it. Her face became a kaleidoscope of fury and embarrassment. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a wheezing cackle that sounded like a flock of dying geese. The host just stood there, frozen, with no idea how to salvage the train wreck. After all, The Viper—Seraphina—and I were famous for hating each other’s guts. And now, it looked like the two of us were calling each other pet names in private. Forget her, I was cringing so hard my spine was trying to escape my body. But the thought of making Seraphina squirm was just too delicious. Another wave of honking laughter burst out of me. 2 Seraphina was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’d stormed into Hollywood to chase a man, and her debut was a nine-figure blockbuster with a cast so star-studded it was intimidating. I, on the other hand, was a nobody. I clawed my way up through indie web series, hoping to snag a few fans by sheer volume of work. Our worlds should never have collided. But a while back, I happened to be in the same city—and the same restaurant—as the latest A-list heartthrob. The paparazzi snapped a picture and ran with it, spinning a whole story about a secret affair. Seraphina went ballistic. Because that A-lister was the man she was famously obsessed with. As soon as she heard I was supposedly with her idol, she put a target on my back. First came the bot-farm-fueled hate trends and the sabotaged castings. Then she started showing up at every event I was at, finding any opportunity to undermine me, to isolate me, until my reputation was in shreds. It was a calculated attack, and I never saw it coming. By the time I realized what was happening, I was branded a desperate, pathetic clout-chaser. My already scarce job offers dried up completely. I was close to not even being able to book a cheap commercial. This reality show was, without a doubt, another one of her traps. But I’d learned my lesson. I came prepared for anything. And not only did I dodge the bullet, I managed to fire one right back. 3 After the phone incident, the set was pure chaos for a long time. Lucas, the A-lister himself, was also a guest on the show. When he first saw the contact name, he kept shooting me these looks, a mix of disgust and certainty, like he was about to tell me to give up my pathetic little crush. Now that the truth was out, he was just as stunned as everyone else. “How could it be? How is that Seraphina’s number? Weren’t you obsessed with me? You even followed me to my hotel.” I just rolled my eyes and played dumb. “Beats me.” Seraphina was frozen solid. After a long, agonizing moment, she stormed over, shoved my shoulder, and spat, “You set me up! How could I possibly be your ‘Sweetest Heart’?” Still refusing to believe it, she started frantically digging through my phone. First, the photo gallery. It was filled with every gorgeous picture she’d ever posted online, from last year to this morning. Not a single one was missing. Next, my DMs. Her chat was pinned to the top, her name saved as “The Most Beautiful Angel in the Universe.” Then, she checked my social media. My private, anonymous account was suddenly on display for the world to see, its feed a cringeworthy monument to cheesy romance quotes. “I can lift a 200-pound barbell, but I can’t lift the thought of you off my mind.” “Your father must have been a thief, because he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.” “I wish I were your shadow, so I could follow you for the rest of your life.” The most recent post was from yesterday. “Sera, my sweetest heart, my number one darling, you’re living rent-free in my head 24/7.” Seraphina stared at the screen, her expression turning vacant. She looked at it for so long I thought she might burn a hole through the glass, her slender fingers completely still. She only looked up when the host called her name. Her eyes, once sharp and bright, were now filled with a baffled sort of defeat. As the host tried to fill the dead air with loud, fake enthusiasm, she seemed to drift into her own world. Her voice was a fragile, distant whisper when she finally asked the question that seemed to echo from another dimension. “You… you’re really that into me?” I almost burst out laughing again. Of course not. I’d bought the account from a meme page a few days ago. The original owner had collected all those cheesy quotes; I’d only written the last one. But to really twist the knife, I leaned in close, my voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Yeah. Took you long enough to notice, didn’t it?” Seraphina looked horrified. She stumbled back a few steps, the words “Get away from me” practically written on her forehead. Seeing her so freaked out sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated joy through me. It had been so long since I’d felt the thrill of victory. I was giddy with it. I shot her a cocky, triumphant smirk. Her face cycled through that beautiful rainbow of emotions again, finally settling on a deep, burning red as she slowly turned her head away. 4 By the time we left the studio, we were the number one trending topic. #PiperAndSera #PipersNameToSera #SeraSweetestHeart #SerasFacepalm #SeraBlushing #SeraOuted #PiperGetOutOfHollywood Every tag was marked with a little flame icon, indicating it was viral. The internet was on fire. [Piper and Sera, is this for real?] [LOL someone’s asking if it’s real. Of course not! Sera totally ignored her afterward. This is all Piper’s one-sided obsession!] [First she leeches off Lucas, now she’s leeching off Sera. She’ll attach herself to anyone famous!] [My poor Sera, having to deal with this parasite again. There there.] Predictably, the hate was still pouring in for me. But I never expected to fix my reputation overnight. Just surviving her latest trap was a win. I was feeling pretty good about myself. I put on a face mask and drifted off into a deep, satisfied sleep. I was dead to the world when my phone started vibrating like a jackhammer. My agent, Jenna, was calling me over and over again. “What the hell is going on with you and Seraphina? And what does her latest post even mean?” Jenna’s voice roared through the speaker, loud enough to shake the fillings in my teeth. The blast of sound left me dazed and confused. It took me a solid minute to remember the reality show, the phone call, all of it. “Seraphina?” I mumbled. “Oh, I just messed with her a little yesterday.” “And the post? What was that post about?” “She posted something?” I closed my eyes, trying to think. “Probably trashing me.” Jenna sounded like she was about to have an aneurysm. “Are you still in bed? Get up, wash your face, and look at Seraphina’s social media. Then you’re going to call me back and explain to me exactly where you two stand!” The line went dead. I groaned, ready to roll over and go back to sleep, but my eyes caught the notification bubble on my phone. 99+ new messages. I tapped it open. They were all from Seraphina, sent late last night. It was a dizzying wall of text. I had to scroll all the way to the top just to start reading. Sera: I need to think about what happened this afternoon. Sera: I never knew you felt that way about me. Am I really that irresistible? Well, of course I am. I’ve been a heartbreaker since kindergarten. Sera: So all that stuff with Lucas… you were just studying the competition? Sera: You little schemer. You didn’t even try to deny the rumors, did you? Figuring that would get my attention? Sera: Well, it worked. Sera: I admit it. Your little game got to me. Sera: Okay, here’s the deal. If you can win Best Actress, I’ll give you a chance to win me over. Sera: That’s not asking too much, right? Sera: I mean, I’m this amazing. You’ve got to work for it if you want to be worthy of me. … She went quiet for a moment. About ten minutes passed before the next message. Sera: Why aren’t you answering? Giving me the silent treatment? Sera: Is it because my standards are too high? Sera: Fine. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. Forget the Best Actress award, whatever. I guess I can spoil you a little. Sera: Pick a date. We’ll make it official. Sera: How about in two minutes? It’ll be 10:22. Do you like the number 22? Sera: … Sera: Still not talking? You’re not just messing with me, are you? Sera: It’s 10:25 now! You missed the perfect time! Could you at least try to act like a proper girlfriend! Sera: What is your deal? Sera: You don’t want to go public? Fine. Whatever. Sera: It’s not like I was dying to announce it anyway. LOL, who’s the one who’s desperate here? You’re so full of it. Sera: … Sera: Baby, I’m sorry. Sera: I was just kidding. Please don’t ignore me. Sera: All my money will be yours. Just please talk to me? [Venmo: $20,000] Sera: I maxed out my transfer limit. I’ll sign the deed to my condo over to you tomorrow. Sera: It’s about time we got a place together anyway. Sera: Not that I’m in a rush to get married. I’m only bringing it up because I know you’re probably getting impatient. Don’t get the wrong idea. Sera: What color wedding dress do you like? What style for the house? Do you want to live here or abroad? A year-long honeymoon should be enough, right? I’m not going to spoil you more than that. A woman needs her career, after all. Sera: … Sera: Still ignoring me? Sera: I get it. You’re worried I won’t be… good enough. In that department. Sera: Look, it’ll be my first time with a woman too, but I’m a very fast learner. I promise I won’t disappoint you. Sera: Nothing? You don’t believe me? Sera: You’re playing with fire, woman. Sera: … The more I read, the more awake I became, all traces of sleepiness obliterated. Jenna’s furious shouting echoed in my head, and I finally understood why. My hands trembled as I opened up my social media app. Seraphina’s name was at the top of every trending list. I clicked on it. She had just reposted a trashy tabloid article that accused me of being a clout-chasing parasite. And her caption read: “Touch my woman and you die.” The post had over a hundred thousand comments in minutes. 5 “Blocked! You’re all blocked!” Seraphina was on a rampage, threatening to get every single tabloid account shut down. Her fans were having a meltdown of their own. [Sera, sweetie, what are you doing?] [Are you seriously with Piper?] [Piper has nothing to offer you! Even Lucas would be better, at least he’s on your level!] My vision went dark for a second. Seraphina’s the one who posted it, so how am I the one getting all the hate? Is she trying to get me cyberbullied to death? I scrolled down. It wasn’t just that one post. She was arguing with everyone in the comments. Fan: [Piper is just playing you! Only your fans are loyal to you! Wake up, Sera!] Seraphina reposted that one with her own reply. “Playing me? Impossible. She’s been hopelessly in love with me for years, she was just too scared to admit it. If I hadn’t made the first move, she’d still be pining in secret.” Her fans were devastated. [Piper has no career and no money! She’s obviously just after your fortune!] Sera’s reply: “Then why isn’t she after someone else’s fortune? It’s because she’s in love with me.” [This is a publicity stunt! It has to be!] Sera’s unfiltered response: “LOL, try not to be so bitter.” Finally, at the bottom of the feed, I found an original post from her. Sera: To think that all this time, in places I couldn’t see, someone was loving me for years. She’d even added a blushing smiley face emoji. I was dumbfounded. What was she even talking about? I could read the individual words, but strung together they made absolutely no sense. I didn’t save that many photos of her, just everything from the past year. Does she actually want to be my “Sweetest Heart”? This is a nightmare. I need to go back to sleep. Two minutes later, I shot up in bed, wanting to slap myself. What have I done? Why did I have to create that stupid contact name? What am I supposed to do now? Am I actually going to have to be Seraphina’s girlfriend? No way. I’m straight. A proud, card-carrying straight woman. How am I supposed to be someone’s girlfriend? Although… Seraphina’s not so bad. I mean, besides being completely unhinged, she’s actually pretty normal. Maybe I should just text her and clear this whole thing up. I picked up my phone, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Just then, a message from Jenna popped up on the screen. “I think I have the gist of the situation now. Just a friendly reminder: when Seraphina thought you were her rival, she made your life a living hell. Can you imagine what she’ll do if she finds out you were just playing with her feelings? And besides, she’s not really into you. She’s probably just using you to make Lucas jealous. You should use this opportunity while you have it.” Oh. So she’s just using me to get to Lucas. A wave of relief washed over me. I smoothly typed out a message and sent it to Seraphina. “Good morning, my love! Sorry, I was asleep! Didn’t mean to not reply. Just wanted to say I love you today too! Mwah, sweetest heart!” Seraphina replied instantly. “Tsk. So needy.” She followed it up with an image. I opened it. It was a spreadsheet. It listed the names of several tabloid accounts and individual trolls. I recognized a few of them, the ones who were always posting photoshopped, unflattering pictures of me. My heart skipped a beat. Had she…? Seraphina’s next message was dripping with regal authority. “These accounts have all been banned. Don’t worry. I’ll make everyone who ever bullied you pay the price. I’m going to let the whole world know that you are mine to protect!” … Well damn. That was actually a huge help. Before I could even type out my gushing thank you—”Thank you, my darling! I love you so much! You’ve made me so happy! Mwah mwah mwah!”—another novel-length message arrived. “So, are you looking for any acting roles right now? Any scripts you’re interested in? Are you free today? We could go take care of some paperwork. I’ll sign my house over to you first, then we can get our marriage license. Oh, have you thought about a wedding venue yet? And the dress color? You never answered my questions from last night, were you even paying attention to what I wrote? All you do is act cute. You can’t just get by on my love for you! Can’t you focus on the important things for once? You exasperating, irresistible little minx!” “…” I was getting a headache just reading it. Who taught her to type this much? Is she training for a marathon with her thumbs? 6 On the trending charts, two topics were pinned to the very top. #SeraTouchMyWoman #PiperIsMyWoman My friends and relatives spent the next hour absolutely roasting me in the group chat, while the person responsible for all of it was busy planning our wedding. I laughed. But behind the laughter, my brain was just a blank screen of static. I had no idea how things had gotten to this point, only that it felt very, very wrong. It took all my diplomatic skills to steer her away from the topics of marriage licenses and property deeds. Seraphina was a little pouty after being turned down. “Fine. No license. But we can at least make our relationship official online, right? You can post a few of my selfies to stake your claim.” She sent a picture. [selfie.jpg] “I’m so devastatingly beautiful, it’s only natural for you to desire me. Of course, you’re not bad looking yourself. A perfect match for me, really.” “Why aren’t you saying anything? Did the picture not send?” [selfie.jpg] “You see it this time, right?” “Don’t tell me you still haven’t gotten it. Why are you so quiet? Are you blushing? Heh. You silly little thing. If you like them, just say so. I’ll send you as many as you want. All of me belongs to you, let alone a few pictures.” I could feel goosebumps crawling up my arms. How does she type this stuff without throwing up in her mouth a little? She has to be doing this just to mess with me. My morning was already a mess, and her cringey messages were the last straw. I decided to fight fire with fire. “Sera, you’re so pretty! I love you so much! Licking the screen rn.” She immediately sent a barrage of fifty consecutive selfies, seeming incredibly excited by my response, even though her words said the opposite. “Whoops, my finger slipped. Sent too many. Just delete them on your end. And don’t you dare save them secretly. Also, you’re a real pervert, you know that? I knew you were trying to hold back your feelings for me. So this is what you’re really like. It’s so twisted. But I love it. I’ve always liked people who are direct. You little devil. I just want to pin you down and have my way with you right now.” … I wanted to have my way with her too, preferably by strangling her. But her public image was already a smoldering crater after this morning’s meltdown; exposing her cringey DMs wouldn’t even make a dent. Seriously, where was she getting these lines? I couldn’t take it anymore. I furiously typed out the most vicious, cutting words I could think of. “That contact name was just a prank to mess with you!” Then, slowly, I deleted it. Forget it. My life is more important. 7 During the show’s taping that afternoon, Seraphina was practically glowing. Thanks to yesterday’s drama, the host kept trying to drag us into the conversation. Seraphina, like a peacock showing off its feathers, preened for the cameras, her voice dripping with a smug satisfaction that a deaf person could have picked up on. “That’s right, I have a girlfriend. I’ve had an awakening… of my identity. I think I’m better suited to be the one who wears the pants in the relationship. A joke? What joke? I’m completely serious—” At that point, the host physically dragged her off-stage. When she returned, she was scowling and muttering a string of very colorful curses under her breath, making it clear she held the entire production in contempt. The host, at his wit’s end, quickly started the next game segment. I was standing off to the side, far from the main cameras, sipping a cup of tea. Another actress, about as famous as I was, sidled up to me. “How come Sera didn’t pull you into the spotlight with her? What’s the deal with you two? She’s not going to beat you up after what happened yesterday, is she?” I would have loved to talk trash about Seraphina, but given my new, very public “role,” I had to play nice. “No,” I explained. “She’s actually really sweet.” “So you two are really together?” the actress asked, her eyes gleaming with gossip. I chose my words carefully. “Not—” “Heh.” A familiar, smug laugh came from behind me. A second later, an arm snaked around my shoulders. It was Seraphina. “I know you’re shy, baby, but you can’t just lie like that. We’re obviously together,” she purred, then turned to the other actress. “Yes. We’re together.” She then turned back to me, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You still haven’t answered my question from this morning. When are we going to make it official? I just want to tie you to my side so you can never leave me. How’s that for a public declaration?” My jaw dropped. Where on earth was she finding these lines? “It’s… great,” I said, my voice betraying my utter disbelief. “I think so too,” Seraphina agreed. “I’ll have a master astrologer pick an auspicious date, and we’ll announce it in style.” As she spoke, I watched the other actress’s expression morph from hopeful excitement to baffled confusion, to the kind of look you give a raving lunatic, before she just sort of… drifted away in a daze. A shame. I think she’d wanted to ask for an autograph. Once the actress was gone, Seraphina slid into the seat beside me. Suddenly, we were very close, and her clean, cool scent washed over me. A casual glance revealed the impossibly smooth, pale skin of her neck. She rested her cheek on her hand, and when she noticed me looking, a self-satisfied smirk played on her lips. “Staring again? Can’t get enough of me? You’re just that obsessed, aren’t you?” On pure instinct, I cooed, “My darling sweetie-pie is the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. I can’t help but look!” She raised an eyebrow, a smile she couldn’t suppress blooming on her face. “So that’s why you ran off to a corner as soon as I left the stage. Can’t function without me, huh? Don’t love me too much. Heh. Hehehehehe. Hahahahahahaha! You clingy little thing. I swear I’m going to sew you into the pocket of my dress. You should have just told me you liked me sooner. Who knows how much longer you would have suffered in silence if I hadn’t found you out yesterday.” Once she started, she couldn’t stop. Inside, I was thinking: You are completely insane. Outwardly, I just nodded along. “Yes, I love you SO much.” She started giggling again, her bright eyes shining with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. I smiled back at her. I’ve always been a smiler, so it was easy. After a moment, she said, “You know, you’re so sweet, baby. You’re the first person who just… goes along with everything I want. And your smile is so beautiful.” I almost snorted. What a load of crap. She was rich and powerful. The world was probably full of people who bent over backward for her. But then I reconsidered. With a personality as certifiably insane as hers, maybe finding people who could stand her was actually a challenge. Maybe she knew she was a handful. I just kept smiling. She tilted her head slightly, a strand of long, dark hair falling beside her ear. Then she reached out, her pale, delicate fingertip gently brushing against my eyelashes. Ugh. Static. And just like that, my entire body went numb.

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1 Six years ago, my mother escaped my father’s abuse through a bitter divorce. Today, she’s one of this city’s most brilliant entrepreneurs, a guest on a prime-time true-crime talk show. On air, the host prodded her to confront her past, urging her to look into the camera and ask me, “Annie, why did you lie for that monster all those years ago? Why did you commit perjury to help him?” I was propped up in bed, the diagnosis in my hand—stage four bone cancer—crinkling in my grip. A dry, mocking laugh escaped my lips. “Tessa,” I whispered to her image on the screen, “you deserved every last hit.” I still remember my final words to her back then: “Don’t you ever come back for us. If you do, my father and I—the two ‘demons’—we’ll make sure you don’t leave alive.” On the show, my mother let out a cold laugh, telling the entire nation, “I knew it from the start. She’s a bad seed, born rotten. Just like her beast of a father.” She’ll never know. She’ll never know that I traded my life for her ten years of peace. … The broadcast ended. I stared at the static-filled screen for a long time before slowly getting out of bed. I walked to the cramped hallway and pulled out the small, smoky grill cart I used to sell food. Mrs. Gable from next door stepped out, rushing to help me. “Annie, dear, you’re going out this late?” I gently pushed her hands away. “It’s alright, Mrs. Gable. You’ve done more than enough for me over the years.” She paused, her eyes welling up. “I saw the show, Annie. Are you really not going to tell your mother the truth? She’s so wealthy now. If she knew…” “Mrs. Gable!” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “She doesn’t need to know.” “I can support myself with the cart. I’ll pay back the money I owe you as soon as I can.” With that, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and pushed the heavy cart away. My mother was a star that had fallen into the mud. She never belonged in this filthy world, and she didn’t need to know its filthy secrets. Besides, the doctor said I had a week, at most. Soon, I’d take this secret with me to hell, right alongside that monster. The night market was a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds. I found my usual spot and laid out the skewers on the grill, the acrid smoke stinging my eyes. Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the noise. “There she is! Wreck it!” I looked up. Jasmine, my mother’s adopted daughter and chosen heir, was striding toward me, flanked by bodyguards. “You little trash,” she sneered. “Still have the face to be out here peddling your filth?” She kicked the grill over, sending hot coals scattering across the pavement. “If you hadn’t lied on the stand, my mother wouldn’t have suffered so much! You’re a monster, just like him. Why don’t you just die already!” Her palm cracked against my cheek. For a moment, all sound vanished from my right ear. The few customers at nearby stalls stared. Someone actually clapped. “So that’s Annie Wei, the girl who defended her abusive dad! Serves her right!” Jasmine grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me to the ground. My knee landed on the searing hot coals. A scream tore from my throat as I thrashed against the agony. But ever since the cancer took hold, my bones had become as fragile as glass; the slightest knock could cause a fracture. Against Jasmine’s assault, I was helpless. I could only lie there as she sat on me, raining down blow after blow. The scene felt sickeningly familiar, a replay of six years ago. Jasmine had bullied me for three years in school, cornering me in bathrooms, beating me until I was bruised and bloody. But I still preferred school. Because the beatings at home, from my father, were always worse. “Jasmine.” A familiar, cool voice drifted from above. The fists stopped. Jasmine scrambled off me, turning to face my mother. Her expression instantly shifted to one of a wounded victim. “Aunt Tessa, what are you doing here?” My mother stood at the edge of the crowd. She wore a beige trench coat, her hair pinned back immaculately. Every gesture radiated the quiet confidence of a mature, successful woman. She didn’t even spare me a glance. She took Jasmine’s hand gently. “Does it hurt?” Jasmine whined, “Yes. Her skin is so tough, my knuckles are all red.” My mother bent her head and blew softly on Jasmine’s hand. “Let the bodyguards handle this sort of thing next time.” I watched the tender scene unfold, my arms trembling as I tried to subtly wipe the blood from my mouth with my sleeve. Tessa had raised her daughter well. Charming and cute, with the perfect amount of a rich girl’s entitlement. “Aunt Tessa, her little stand doesn’t even have a permit! I already called my uncle at code enforcement. They’ll be here to haul it away any minute!” A tremor of fear shot through me. This cart was my only source of income. After paying back Mrs. Gable, there was just enough left for painkillers. My nails dug into my palms as I forced myself to meet my mother’s gaze. She looked at me, a long, deep look, and did nothing to stop it. A few minutes later, city officials arrived and confiscated everything. Jasmine was ecstatic. “Aunt Tessa, you’re the best to me. Little vermin like her don’t deserve a way to live!” I fought against the searing pain in my bones, managing only a pained smile. The word “Mom” rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back down. “Ms. Lu,” I said, “Jasmine isn’t the right choice.” Jasmine’s eyes flashed with anger. “What did you say? Who do you think you are to talk?” I ignored her, keeping my voice steady as I looked at my mother. “Her character isn’t suited to be your heir. You should keep looking.” My mother’s eyes were fixed on my pale face. I saw her fist clench inside her coat pocket. Her voice was laced with scorn. “Who I choose as my heir is none of your damn business.” A sharp sting filled my nose. All I could do was offer another weak smile as I watched my mother lead Jasmine away and climb into a Porsche. After a long moment, I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head with a trembling hand, hiding the fresh bruises on my face. I cleaned up the mess amidst the pointing fingers and whispered insults, then limped back to my tiny apartment. Inside the Porsche, Tessa spoke quietly to her assistant. “Look into any and all contact between Jasmine and Annie Wei.” Jasmine’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Aunt Tessa, you’re investigating me… because of something she said?!” She looked at my mother’s cold profile, her lip trembling. “We’re mother and daughter… Mom…” Tessa shot her a sideways glance. “Jasmine, you’re overstepping. If you are qualified, you will become my successor. There is no need to bring our relationship into it.” A dark cloud passed over Jasmine’s face as she clenched her fists. 2 My mother was born into wealth. She cut ties with her family to marry my father, a simple fisherman named Rick. Rick was a monster, but he played the part of a loving husband just long enough for my mother to give birth. “Useless bitch, couldn’t even give me a son! I’ll beat you to death!” He never held back, raining fists and feet on my mother right in front of me. I never cried. I just watched. As a little girl, I didn’t understand that crying was a way to show sadness or pity. I only knew that if Mom was crying, then I couldn’t. Eventually, I learned the patterns of his rage. Whenever Rick went out drinking, I’d slip a sleeping pill into my mother’s water. Then I’d go downstairs and wait for him. I would provoke him, and he would unleash all his drunken fury on me. And my mother would be safe. My sweet, naive mother. She had been so sheltered growing up. No matter how badly he hurt her, she would just hold me and cry, telling me to believe in love, to believe there was still good in the world. I would look at her, my heart a piece of ice. Mom didn’t belong here. She was a golden phoenix fallen into a cesspool. No matter the cost, I had to lift her out. I woke from a nightmare and used the wall to steady myself as I made my way to the basement. Since the cancer had advanced, every bone in my body ached. They fractured at the slightest impact, and the wounds were slow to heal. Jasmine’s beating today had left me with a limp. The damp, cold air sent sharp pains shooting up my ankle. Rick was chained to the wall. He heard me approach and lifted his head. His cloudy, ancient eyes widened in a mix of fear and rage. “You little monster! I raised you for over a decade, and this is how you repay me? Did you forget who took you to the clinic when that john broke your leg?” I looked at him, my expression blank. “And who sent me to that john in the first place?” He was momentarily stunned, then let out a cold laugh. “So what if it was me? If you didn’t sell yourself, how was I supposed to get money for my gambling?” The chains rattled as he leaned closer. “You’ve been turning tricks for years. Did your mother ever come looking for you? What do you think she’d do if she knew her precious daughter started at fourteen? She’d probably puke.” I watched his mouth open and close, feeling nothing. There was a time when his words would have cut me to the bone, left me bleeding with shame and hatred. But I was already dying. What did any of it matter now? I turned and picked up a pair of pliers from a nearby shelf, testing their weight in my hand. Rick’s smile vanished. “What are you doing?” I grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open. I raised the pliers. “If you can’t learn to speak like a human,” I said coldly, “then you don’t need these teeth.” His eyes bulged in terror as a muffled scream escaped his throat. “Annie!” An inhuman shriek echoed through the basement. 3 The next morning, I got a fine from code enforcement. Two thousand dollars. Jasmine’s revenge was vicious. I emptied every last cent I had to my name to pay it. Now I didn’t even have money for painkillers, let alone what I owed Mrs. Gable. My body was deteriorating by the day. Time was running out. I turned down a waitress job a neighbor offered me. Instead, holding a flyer for a clinical research facility, I headed to the outskirts of the city. The lab was stark and bare. The pay was five thousand dollars a session. Your life was your own risk. I signed the contract and was led to a simple gurney. The needle in the doctor’s hand gleamed under the fluorescent lights. I closed my eyes, one thought repeating in my mind. Pay back Mrs. Gable, then go to hell with that monster. It’s worth it. My broken, worthless life for my mother’s happiness. It’s worth it. “Annie!” A vicious slap cracked across my face, so hard it sent me sprawling from the gurney to the floor. I coughed, blood sputtering from my lips. Dazed, I looked up. My mother was standing over me, her eyes blazing with a fury and terror I had never seen before. “Are you trying to kill yourself?!” She grabbed my wrist to haul me up. The second her fingers touched my arm, she froze. Beneath the thin layer of skin, there was only sharp, unyielding bone. Like a dead branch in winter, ready to snap. Her hand stayed there, suspended. After a moment, she looked at me, her lips trembling. “Why… why are you so thin?” Her eyes reddened, but the flicker of sorrow was immediately consumed by a deeper rage. She threw my arm down, her voice shrill. “Annie, look at you! Look at what you’ve become! You let them beat you, curse you, and you don’t even fight back! And now you’re here, selling your life for drug trials? Are you that pathetic?!” She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. “How could I have a daughter like you? I can’t believe it. I, Tessa Lu, raised a daughter who would let herself live like this!” Every word was a poisoned dart, striking me right in the heart. I lowered my eyes as a single tear hit the floor. Being scorned by my own mother… it hurt more than the cancer. Jasmine’s assistant had appeared in the doorway. He whispered something in her ear. Jasmine’s eyes lit up. She hooked her arm through my mother’s, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Aunt Tessa, don’t be angry. People like her aren’t worth your energy.” She looked down at me, her expression openly triumphant. “I bet you don’t know how she’s really been living all these years, do you, Aunt Tessa? By spreading her legs. Selling skewers by day, selling herself by night.” She pulled a stack of photos from her purse and threw them. They scattered across the linoleum floor. They were pictures of me. In bed. With a series of different men. 4 My mother picked one up, her hand shaking uncontrollably. “Annie, are you that desperate for men? Are you that depraved?!” A crowd had gathered. I could hear their whispers. “She’ll really sleep with anyone, won’t she.” “No wonder Ms. Lu disowned her. She’s utterly shameless.” The veins on the back of my mother’s hand stood out as she gripped the photos, her gaze so intense it felt like it was peeling my skin off. “You’re coming with me.” She grabbed my arm, her grip so tight I thought the bone would shatter. “To the hospital! And then to the police station! You are going to turn yourself in and confess every sordid thing you’ve ever done!” She dragged me two steps before my bad leg gave out. I looked up at her taut, furious profile. “Mom.” She stopped. My voice was a fragile whisper. “Having a daughter like me… does it bring you so much shame?” She turned, her eyes red-rimmed and raw. She ground the words out through her teeth. “If you needed money, why didn’t you come to me? Would it have killed you to just apologize?” She shook me by the shoulders, her nails digging into my flesh. “Come with me and confess! I’ll beg the police for leniency.” I opened my mouth to speak, but froze. A familiar figure had appeared in the doorway. It was Rick. He was covered in filth and blood, a knife clutched in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared, his words slurred and indistinct, “Bitch! I’ll kill you!” He charged toward my mother, the tip of the blade aimed straight for her heart. My mother stood frozen. He was too close. There was no time to move. Jasmine cowered in the distance, screaming at her assistant. “What did you do?! Why is he going after Aunt Tessa? If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you!” But someone is always faster than a blade. Without a second of hesitation, I shoved my mother out of the way. The moment the knife sank into my chest, it didn’t hurt. A warm liquid just gushed out, dripping from the hilt onto my mother’s expensive coat. Security guards swarmed in, tackling Rick to the ground as he spat muffled curses. I fell backward, into my mother’s arms. Her coat was so soft, and it smelled of a beautiful, clean perfume. I had spent my childhood wondering what it would feel like to be held by her like this. So this was it. Her heart was beating so, so fast. “Annie!! Annie!!” She was calling my name. I tried to keep my eyes open, to look at her. Her tears fell onto my face, warm against my cold skin. I tried to move my lips, to call her “Mom.” But the word was trapped in my throat, and I couldn’t get it out. My mother’s eyes were wild, her voice cracking. “Annie! An ambulance! Somebody call an ambulance!” Jasmine, relieved, walked over and took my mother’s arm. “Aunt Tessa, don’t be so upset. Annie was no good anyway. If she dies, she dies. Just two dogs fighting…” My mother violently threw her arm off. Before Jasmine could react, a voice cried out from the doorway. “That’s a lie!” Mrs. Gable stumbled into the room and fell to her knees beside me. She gathered me into her arms, her tears splashing onto my face. “Annie, you foolish, foolish child…” She looked up at my mother, her old, cloudy eyes filled with tears. “You people have no idea what the truth is. Tessa, the person you’ve wronged most in this life is Annie!”

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