My boyfriend was a boy genius, cold and brilliant, with a pathological aversion to physical touch. We’d been together for years, but we’d never done any of the intimate things couples do. Not a single one. I’d convinced myself that was just his nature, and I was prepared for a life of platonic love. That is, until his birthday. I took a forty-hour trip in a cramped coach seat, all the way across the country, just to surprise him. And I saw him. Standing under a streetlamp. He was smiling as he gave the ponytail of the girl next to him a playful tug, then laced his fingers through hers. In that single, shattering moment, I decided I was done with him. “I don’t do sloppy seconds. Any man another woman has touched is dirty to me.” And the calm, self-possessed boy genius I thought I knew… finally broke. 1 It was the fourteenth day of the silent treatment between Jerry and me, and it was also his birthday. I clutched the gift I’d spent six months of part-time work saving up for and tried to rub some feeling back into my backside, which had gone completely numb after forty hours on a train. Two thousand miles, from my state university in the Midwest all the way to his prestigious campus in the city. Standing under a flickering streetlamp on the edge of the Blackwood University athletic fields, I couldn’t help the nervous flutter in my chest as I imagined his reaction. He’d probably be the same as always. Expressionless. A slight, almost imperceptible nod in my direction. That was just him—an automaton, seemingly devoid of emotion. I sighed, thinking back to what started our fight. Distant figures swam in the hazy light, and then I saw him, a silhouette so familiar it ached. I started forward, but then I froze. He wasn’t alone. A girl in a high ponytail and a sleek tracksuit was looking up at him, laughing at something he’d said. And Jerry… I don’t think I had ever seen such a relaxed, easy expression on his face. As the girl chattered away, he reached out and gave her ponytail a gentle tug. She let out a playful squeal and slapped at his hand. Instead of recoiling, he laughed and joined in her game, their movements light and carefree. The lamplight cast a soft halo around them, a perfect portrait of youth and beauty playing under the moon. It was a scene straight out of a rom-com, but it filled me with a cold, hollow dread. There was a reason for that. The very reason for our fight was Jerry’s… condition. He was the boy genius who’d made headlines back home, fast-tracked into Blackwood University at seventeen. Now, at twenty, he was already a rising star in his academic field. But geniuses have their quirks. Jerry’s was a pathological aversion to physical contact. He avoided all team sports, never took public transit. In middle school, he’d beaten a classmate bloody just because the kid had jokingly touched his hand. And I, his girlfriend, was no exception. We never kissed. We never hugged. We had never even held hands. Once, on our first anniversary, beneath a sky bursting with fireworks, I stood on my toes and stole a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes remained as flat and calm as a frozen lake, but the way he instantly took a half-step back was a wound that festered for a long time. I always told myself, That’s just Jerry. But sometimes, a bitter resentment would bubble up. On Valentine’s Day, my roommate made her new relationship Instagram official. The picture of their clasped hands was flooded with hearts and congratulations. I couldn’t resist taking a screenshot and sending it to Jerry. I tried to make a joke out of it. Three years together and we’ve never even held hands. I must be one of a kind. His reply was a single, devastating letter. “K.” I was so hurt, I decided not to message him. Fourteen days of silence. And of course, he would never be the one to reach out first. In the end, though, I caved. Just like I always did. I convinced myself it was fine, traveled halfway across the country for him, only to be greeted by this scene. The disconnect was so vast it felt like the ground was splitting open beneath me. A motorcycle suddenly roared past, coming dangerously close to the girl. In a flash, Jerry’s arm shot out. He pulled her behind him, his hand firmly gripping hers. That protective, instinctual gesture was another knife in my heart. And at that same moment, his eyes lifted and found me, standing alone across the street. 2 His face remained a mask of indifference. His movements hitched for a fraction of a second, and then he started walking briskly toward me. The girl, Chloe, let out a little cry and tugged on the corner of his jacket. “Hey, Jerry! What’s the rush?” He didn’t pull away. He just let her hold on as he crossed the street. He stopped in front of me, his gaze traveling down to my worn-out sneakers. “What are you doing here?” The faint light danced in his dark eyes. Before tonight, I would have mistaken that for a spark of warmth. I tried to stretch my lips into a smile. It felt like pulling taffy. I held out the carefully wrapped gift. “Jerry. I came to wish you a happy birthday.” He reached for it, but Chloe’s voice cut through the air. “Oh my god, Jerry! We’re going to be late for our reservation! We have to go, now!” His hand stopped in mid-air. Pulled along by Chloe’s insistent tugging, he took a few steps before pausing and looking back at me. “Well? Are you just going to stand there? Come on.” My feet felt like lead as I trailed behind them, my mind replaying that scene under the streetlamp on a dizzying loop. I knew I was the third wheel, the awkward extra sitting in the front seat of the taxi like a piece of forgotten luggage. But how do you just give up on someone you’ve loved for so many years? From the back seat, Chloe’s cheerful chatter filled the car. She was talking about lab gossip, inside jokes I couldn’t understand. Jerry would murmur a soft response now and then, the atmosphere between them easy and familiar. I couldn’t help but remember. I used to love sharing little bits of my day with him, too. He never really responded, but I didn’t care. Then one day, as I was excitedly telling him about the stray cat that lived near my dorm, he cut me off. “Lily, do you have nothing better to do with your time?” I never bothered him with “pointless chatter” again. I never knew that he would listen so intently to someone else’s. My knuckles were white as I gripped the handle of the gift bag, the plastic digging painfully into my palm. A wave of exhaustion and sorrow so profound washed over me, I thought I might collapse. The taxi driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, noticing my red-rimmed eyes. He chuckled, trying to be friendly. “Hey, son, don’t just talk to your girlfriend back there,” he said, nodding toward Chloe. “Your little sister’s about to cry from being ignored.” The chatter in the back seat died instantly. My vulnerability exposed, I hastily wiped away my tears, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. After a moment of silence, Chloe let out a soft, tinkling laugh. “Oh, I am so sorry. We completely forgot you were there.” She leaned forward slightly. “I’m Chloe Sherman, by the way. Jerry’s junior in the program. Though I skipped a grade, so we’re in the same graduate lab now. If all goes well, we’ll be doing our PhDs together, too.” She was still smiling, but there was a sharp, mocking edge to it now. “And you are? What school do you go to? Who’s your advisor? Published anything interesting? Funny, Jerry’s never mentioned you.” So this was Chloe. It was pathetic, I know, but I used to stalk the student forums for Jerry’s university. He was popular, a campus legend, and there were always threads about him. Since he never shared his life with me, it was the only way I could feel close to him. Her name, Chloe, always appeared alongside his. They called them the “Golden Couple of the Materials Science Department.” I’d even seen a photo of them. It was from some competition, the two of them on the winner’s podium, holding a trophy together, their smiles wide and triumphant. I’ll admit it. That picture made me burn with jealousy. The wind whistled past the car window. Jerry remained silent. He didn’t lift a finger to defend me against Chloe’s blatant provocation. “I’m Jerry’s… girlfriend,” I whispered. 3 The restaurant was an exclusive private kitchen specializing in fusion cuisine. A quick glance at the menu made my legs feel weak. Chloe ordered with the practiced ease of a regular. “The heirloom tomato tart, pan-seared scallops, and the duck confit for sure. Jerry loves those.” Did he? I had no idea. Before he was a genius, Jerry was just a kid from a normal family, like me. Our dates were usually at cheap noodle shops or diners. A real splurge for us was hot pot. I’d never even heard of a place like this. Chloe handed the menu back to the waiter. Just as he was about to leave, Jerry stopped him. “And add an order of the Nashville hot chicken. Extra spicy.” Chloe turned to him, her smile unwavering. “Jerry, I thought you never ate spicy food.” He just took a sip of his tea, offering no reply. But I knew. The person who loved spicy food wasn’t him. It was me. I felt that familiar, treacherous sting behind my eyes again. He always did this. Just when I was about to give up, about to walk away, he’d give me the tiniest crumb of hope to keep me chasing after him. Just like that night with the fireworks. After he’d flinched away from my kiss, he’d leaned in, just for a second, and pressed his lips softly to my hair. 4 The food was exquisite, but it tasted like ash in my mouth. After forty straight hours on a train, fueled only by a single pack of crackers to save money, my body was too exhausted to even feel hungry. Soon, the clock struck midnight. Chloe clapped her hands, and a group of waiters wheeled in an enormous, three-tiered cake. It was intricately decorated, with tiny fondant figures in lab coats dotting each layer. They must have been people from their lab. On the very top stood two figures, a boy and a girl, shoulder to shoulder, beaming. As the cake was placed in front of Jerry, Chloe began to speak. “Happy twentieth birthday, Jerry.” Her eyes sparkled as she pointed to the figures on top. “And here’s to us, reaching the summit together.” An entirely inappropriate toast. But that one order of spicy chicken had planted a foolish seed of hope in my heart. I prayed he would reject the cake, that he would say something, anything, to defend my place at his side. He just smiled faintly and thanked her. Then, he closed his eyes, hands clasped together, and made a wish. The candlelight softened the sharp, usually severe lines of his face. He had smiled more tonight than I’d seen him smile in all the years I’d known him combined. Was his wish about me? Or was it the same as Chloe’s toast—a wish for them to conquer the world together? They were geniuses. I was just an ordinary, broke student from a no-name college. The chasm between us had never felt so vast, so brutally real. I had my answer. The candles went out, plunging the room into darkness. And in that moment, my feelings for him dimmed, too. Chloe cheered and applauded. I forced a smile and clapped along weakly. She scooped a dollop of frosting with her finger and playfully smeared it on Jerry’s cheek. He just laughed, telling her to stop messing around. “Oh no, look what I did! I’ve ruined that perfect face of yours,” she giggled. “To make it up to you, I got you a proper gift!” 5 Like a magician, Chloe produced a large, sleek box from behind her chair and presented it to Jerry. The moment he opened it, my vision tunneled. I instinctively shoved the box at my own feet further under the table. Inside her box, nestled in black foam, was a brand-new, top-of-the-line laptop. It was the exact same one I had bought for him. “Your old one is so slow, Jerry. So, I got you a new one,” she said breezily. “I didn’t get anything too expensive, because I knew you wouldn’t accept it. Just picked one at random. You don’t mind, do you?” That laptop cost $1,299. To afford it, I’d spent six months tutoring. Every weekend, I’d take a two-hour bus ride to the other side of the city to teach, just because that tutoring center paid ten dollars more per hour than any place near my campus. The product of all my sweat and sacrifice, something I had treasured and protected… was just something she had “picked at random.” My hand, still holding my fork, began to tremble. Chloe’s eyes suddenly darted to me, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Oh, right! We haven’t seen what our guest of honor brought for Jerry yet.” Before I could react, she circled around behind me. Her hand shot out and snatched the box from under the table. I gasped and lunged for it, trying to get it back. The half-opened box slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor. The laptop—the one I had cradled in my arms for two thousand miles—hit the polished hardwood with a sickening, final thud. “Oops, sorry,” Chloe said. Her tone held not a shred of apology. I dropped to my knees, fumbling to open the box. The chassis was bent, the screen was a spiderweb of cracks. I pressed the power button. Nothing. Jerry knelt beside me, reaching out to help me up. “Lily…” For the first time all night, I heard a trace of guilt in his voice. I shoved his hand away and numbly placed the broken computer back in its box. Then, I stood up and walked out of the private dining room. The moment I was through the door, I broke into a run. “Lily!” Jerry’s voice, sharp with alarm, echoed behind me. 6 I wasn’t fast enough. He caught me just outside the restaurant’s main entrance, his fingers digging into my shoulders. He was panting, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps. I looked up, meeting his eyes. For the first time, I saw genuine shock in them. His hand trembled as he reached up and touched my cheek, his thumb wiping away a trail of moisture. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. So this is what it felt like to be touched by him. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Tears streamed down my face, soaking the collar of my shirt. Jerry tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming. Finally, in a move that stunned me, he pulled me into his arms. “Lily, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry…” he murmured, his voice laced with a frantic edge I’d never heard before. He repeated my name over and over again. In my moment of utter heartbreak, I had finally become his exception. But I was no longer the only exception. For all I knew, in all the moments I couldn’t see, he had been breaking his own rules for Chloe, time and time again. “Jerry.” I had been rehearsing this in my head for what felt like an eternity. When the words finally came out, my voice was shockingly steady. “Let’s break up.” He froze. When he pulled back to look at me, his eyes were filled with confusion. “Really, Lily? Over this?” A flicker of something—annoyance?—crossed his face before he sighed, a sound of weary resignation. “Lily, are you trying to get me to comfort you? When did you get so childish?” he asked, his tone flat. “This thing with Chloe… it’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand. Don’t make a scene.” He spoke as if I were a simple equation he could solve without effort, arriving at the perfect answer. He clearly thought I was too simple-minded to grasp the nuances of his relationship with Chloe, and that it wasn’t worth his time to explain it to a mere mortal like me. He just wanted me to stop being “childish” and pretend, like all the other times, that nothing had happened. Like a well-behaved pet. A hysterical laugh tried to bubble up, but it was choked off by a sob. Tears dripped into the corner of my mouth. I raised my hand, fully intending to slap him. But in that instant, all the strength drained out of me. My fingers just scraped across his cheek, leaving a thin, red line. “Jerry, you’re not a genius. You’re just an arrogant, self-righteous asshole.” He stood there, stunned, and slowly raised a hand to his face. Then, a strange look crossed his features. “There. Do you feel better now?”

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At sixteen, I had a sudden, horrifying realization: I was living inside a male power-fantasy novel. And I was cast as the hero’s gold-digger ex-girlfriend. The script said that after four years together, I would dump him for money. He would then rise to the top of the world, a new beautiful woman on his arm for every season, and eventually, he’d come back to rub his success in my face. But even after this revelation, I didn’t deviate from my life’s path. I still aced my way through the best high school, then into the top university. So when the eighteen-year-old hero-to-be stood before me, confessing his feelings, I gave him my most dazzling smile. “Alright,” I said. “But you should know, being Fiona Dursley’s boyfriend is a role you can be fired from.” 1 That one sentence lit a fire under him. Alfred Thorne became far more attentive than his character in the book. Beyond the standard ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts, he was constantly asking me out. “I’m busy,” was my standard reply. The top two students in my major this semester would get a fully-funded opportunity to study abroad. It was a golden ticket, and I wasn’t about to let it slip through my fingers. The consequence was that Alfred only ever saw me in class. So today, he showed up before my lecture with a bouquet of flowers. “My dearest girlfriend,” he said, with a flourish, “would you trade this bouquet of red roses for the pleasure of having dinner with me?” Alfred was undeniably handsome, and the grand gesture had half the girls in the classroom swooning. “A boyfriend that hot bringing you flowers? You have to say yes!” someone whispered loudly. I gave the roses a brief, dismissive glance. “Maybe next time you buy flowers,” I said, my voice just loud enough for him to hear, “you should actually find out what kind your girlfriend likes.” The whole class knew. Someone had sent me roses once, and the allergic reaction had kept me out of school for a week. As my boyfriend, Alfred had managed to pick the one flower I actively despised. It turns out, if a person is shallow on the inside, a handsome face can only hold your interest for so long. Later that day, he cornered me outside the library. “Fiona, are you even serious about being my girlfriend?” he demanded. “We’ve been together for a month. How many times have we actually seen each other?” I held up the stack of textbooks in my arms. “I have to study. Is this news to you?” “And for the record, when I told you to perform well, I didn’t mean I wanted a puppy following me around.” I fixed him with a cool stare. “If you don’t finish this semester at the top of your class, we’re done.” For the hero of the story, this was hardly a challenge. But in the early chapters, he was committed to his whole ‘slacker genius’ act—brimming with talent but too cool to apply himself. He was saving the big reveal of his brilliance for the parade of future heroines. As for me, his starter girlfriend? Please. I wasn’t worth the effort. “Are you serious?” Alfred asked, his voice strained. I just rolled my eyes and walked into the library. 2 As I dove headfirst into my work, I could feel Alfred’s eyes on me from across the table. I ignored him. A man without discipline is a man without appeal. When he realized staring wasn’t working, he tried a different tactic. “Fiona, how do you solve this one?” I glanced at the problem he was pointing to and then looked at him as if he were an idiot. “If this is the level of question my boyfriend needs help with, you can leave.” Alfred flushed, realizing he’d picked something on par with ‘1+1=?’ He spent the next ten minutes hunched over his textbook, finally selecting a genuinely difficult problem. I didn’t brush him off. I took my time, walking him through the logic and the shortcuts to the solution. He started off paying attention to the textbook, but slowly, his gaze drifted from the page to my face. “Fiona…” I kept working on my own problem set. “What is it?” His cheeks were tinged with pink. “You’re not what I expected at all.” Of course not. He had been drawn to my face, immediately slotting me into the ‘trophy girlfriend’ category in his mind. I didn’t call him out on it. Instead, I asked, “And what did you expect?” Alfred thought for a moment. “Beautiful, charming… the center of attention.” “And now?” He opened a bottle of water and slid it across the table. I took it with a nod and had a few sips. “Now,” he said, his voice softer, “I see that you’re brilliant and hardworking. You have this… rational kind of charm.” I smiled and leaned across the table, stopping just before our noses touched. My eyes crinkled at the corners. “Good.” Then I went right back to my work, pointedly ignoring the way the tips of Alfred’s ears had turned a fiery red. Soon, the end of the semester was approaching, and the university decided to host an Arts Gala to help students de-stress. The class president came up to me, holding a student activity form. “Fiona, I heard you’re a dancer. Would you be interested in representing our class at the gala?” I remembered this part. In the original story, my sultry dance performance was what caught the eye of the rich heir. I declined. The class president was stunned. “Why not? You’d be amazing.” He pressed on, “You’re already so popular. If you perform, you’ll be the star of the show.” Perhaps. And in the rich heir’s eyes, I’d be no different from a club dancer he could proposition. “Because I’ve already signed up to be the host of the Arts Gala,” I replied politely. 3 I beat out all the other applicants for the hosting gig. But the faculty advisor was worried I’d get stage fright. “Your file says you can sing and dance, but there’s no mention of any hosting experience. You won’t have the same on-stage presence as the others.” “How about I find you a male co-host?” she suggested. “You can support each other, and it’ll take some of the pressure off.” I didn’t argue. “Professor, why don’t I do a run-through with your recommended co-host? We can go over the script and see how it works.” The result was, predictably, a disaster. The guy they’d picked had clearly been pulled in at the last minute with zero prep. With the advisor watching, I had no choice but to go through the entire program script by myself. When I finished, she applauded lightly. “Alright, then. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to carry the show alone, but you’ve proven me wrong.” I apologized to the would-be co-host. He blushed. “No, no, it’s fine! You were just… you were amazing, Fiona. I’ll work harder so maybe one day I’ll get the chance to share a stage with you.” As for why the university didn’t bother holding proper auditions for a male host? Because this was a male power-fantasy novel. All the female characters were props for the hero. Why would any other man get a chance to shine in the spotlight? Even the original host from the book, Laura, was just another conquest for the hero down the line. When Alfred heard I was hosting the gala, his first reaction was excitement. His second was jealousy. “Doesn’t that mean a ton of guys are going to be checking you out?” 4 I pinched his cheek. “Why don’t you ask if I’ll be checking any of them out?” Alfred pulled me into a hug. “I don’t care. You’re only allowed to look at me.” I subtly pushed him away. “That depends on whether you continue to measure up.” On the night of the gala, I abandoned my usual minimalist style. I went all out, renting a stunning evening gown from the university’s costume department. Even as the disposable ex-girlfriend, my looks were top-tier. Otherwise, the hero wouldn’t have spent half the book collecting women who bore a passing resemblance to me. The thought made my stomach turn. I walked onto the stage to a wave of applause and stunned silence. My beauty was an asset—one I wouldn’t overuse, but one I would never discard. The most intense gaze in the audience, of course, belonged to Alfred. But I couldn’t help but notice the man in the front row: Damian Sterling, the book’s secondary male lead. It was hard not to notice him. He and his bodyguards took up an entire row. His eyes were locked on me. I offered a polite, generic smile in his direction and then looked away. 5 After the show, Alfred came on stage with a huge bouquet of white roses. Great. More roses. He tried to hand them to me. “Fiona, I’m so proud of you.” I gave him a quick hug but didn’t take the flowers. Alfred looked confused. “You don’t like them? I made sure to get white roses this time, not red. I thought all women liked roses.” Just then, the rich heir, Damian, made his way onto the stage. “Excuse me for interrupting. Hello, I’m Damian Sterling.” He offered me a bouquet of pristine white tulips. “I feel tulips are a much better match for your elegance tonight, Miss Dursley.” I smiled and accepted the tulips. Alfred’s face started to darken. I tugged on his sleeve. “Alfred, darling, could you reimburse Mr. Sterling for the flowers? It was so kind of him to pick them up for me.” A grin spread across Alfred’s face. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and shoved it at Damian. “Thanks for the effort, but I’m perfectly capable of buying my own girlfriend flowers.” Damian just smirked. “You have to buy the right ones first.” I thanked him again to break the tension, then looped my arm through Alfred’s and led him backstage. Once we were alone, Alfred, practically bursting with pride, told me he’d turned down a girl who confessed her feelings to him today. “Who was it?” 6 “Laura. The girl who was also trying out to be the host.” So it was her. It seemed my presence in the competition had pushed her into the audience, where she’d met Alfred ahead of schedule and made her move. “And?” “I turned her down, of course,” Alfred said, puffing out his chest. “I already have the best girlfriend in the world.” Speak of the devil. The person handling the backstage cleanup was Laura herself. Her eyes immediately landed on our intertwined hands, her gaze sharp and assessing. “So you’re Fiona Dursley. Alfred’s girlfriend.” I just smiled and said nothing. Laura’s expression soured. “You’re lucky to have a boyfriend like him.” “It’s not her who’s lucky, it’s me,” Alfred interjected, leaning his head toward me. I gave his hair a perfunctory ruffle. “Such a good boy.” Laura looked like she’d been slapped. She dropped what she was doing and ran out, tears welling in her eyes. Once she was gone, Alfred’s smile faded. “Fiona, the reason you didn’t take my roses… is it because you really don’t like them?” I nodded. “That’s right.” He tightened his grip on my hand. “Next time, even if you don’t like them, can you just take them anyway?” I pulled my hand back, my own expression turning cold. Without another word, I started walking toward my dorm. Alfred rushed after me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant… in front of your other admirers, could you give me a little…” I stopped and turned. “A little what?” He wrapped his arms around me. “A little face.” Just then, Damian Sterling happened to be walking by. I tilted Alfred’s chin up and kissed him. Right in Damian’s line of sight. “Was that enough for you?” 7 Alfred’s face was as red as a ripe apple. He stood there, completely stunned, but his eyes shot a triumphant glare at Damian. “Childish,” I muttered. By the end of the semester, Alfred and I were the campus’s model couple. Everything seemed to be going perfectly. But then, a plot twist that wasn’t in the original script appeared. The university was offering a full scholarship for the top two students in our department to study abroad. Originally, Alfred and I were tied for first place, both securing a spot. But my advisor had just sent me a message. There had been a change. Because of Damian Sterling’s family connections, the department had decided to add him to the list. Which meant that either Alfred or I would be cut. Honestly, someone with Damian’s background didn’t need a university scholarship. If he wanted to study abroad, he had a dozen better options. It made no sense for him to pull strings for this one, small opportunity. It was a power play, designed to force Alfred and me to come to him. And in that moment, I realized just how powerless I was. Until Alfred had his big hero moment and leveled up, Damian was effectively the second protagonist of this world. He had the power to crush anyone. Against him, I had no moves to make. I told Alfred about the situation. He was silent for a long moment, then looked at me. “Let’s just give up, Fiona,” he said. “We don’t have to try so hard.” It was like a splash of cold water to the face. I finally understood my mistake. Compared to the hero of the story, blessed with endless good fortune, I was just a disposable stepping stone. Now that I was aware of the plot, how could I possibly have expected him to be my support? 8 I accepted Damian Sterling’s invitation. Studying abroad would allow me to build my own network, to create a bigger future for myself. I had no reason to give that up. If the plot remained unchanged, the domestic market would one day belong to Alfred. My only move was to carve out my own territory overseas. Damian had chosen an absurdly luxurious and stylish cafe. His first words to me were, “Will you be my girlfriend?” “No,” I replied instantly. He was taken aback. “Then why did you agree to meet me today?” He quickly recovered, smiling. “Don’t be so quick to refuse. You can think it over while you enjoy your coffee.” I didn’t say anything. I simply picked up my cup, inhaled the aroma, and then proceeded to add a generous amount of sugar and cream. Damian raised an eyebrow. “That’s pure Blue Mountain coffee, you know.” The implication was clear: I was ruining it. I decided it wasn’t sweet enough and added another sugar cube. “I’m not a fan of making things difficult for myself.” “I came here today to tell you that I am willing to go abroad with you. I am not, however, willing to become your girlfriend.” Damian took a slow sip of his own coffee. “But… if you’re not my girlfriend, why would I give you this opportunity?” I played my next card. “I will break up with Alfred.” I let that hang in the air for a second. “Not to be with you. But to give you an opportunity to pursue me.” Damian burst out laughing. “That is the most interesting proposition I’ve heard all year.” I said nothing more. I just left my contact information on the table. “Let me know when you’ve made a decision. This offer won’t last forever.” I stood up to leave. “You have until tomorrow morning.” I was betting on two things: Damian’s arrogance, and the narrative’s relentless drive to separate me and Alfred. It was a gamble I had to take. 9 Even before I got a confirmation from Damian, I sent Alfred the breakup text. He rushed to my dorm, standing outside the building. It was funny, in a sad way. It was the first time he’d ever come here on his own initiative. He stood there all night, causing a campus-wide spectacle. Finally, worn down by the unspoken pressure from my roommates, I went down to see him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face gaunt. He looked utterly heartbroken. “You’re breaking up with me for this scholarship?” he asked, his voice rough. “You’re going to dump me and run off with that rich guy?” “Not exactly,” I corrected him. “The scholarship is the immediate cause, yes. But the root cause is this: you’re lazy and you have no backbone. You don’t meet the standards for the next phase of my life.” “Next phase?” he repeated blankly. I nodded. “People are supposed to strive for better things. Just because you’re content to coast doesn’t mean I have to accept it. Besides, when this whole thing with Damian came up, what did you do? You stood there and told me to just let it go, spouting nonsense about how things will work themselves out.” “What else did you do?” “That doesn’t mean I have no backbone,” he said, his voice cracking. “I love you. I just don’t want to see you struggle.” I threw my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Exactly.” “So I’m not struggling anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”

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One drunken night, I went wild with Anson, my best friend since childhood. I was in the shower when the text began to scroll across my vision. 【Can all these ‘girl-bros’ just spontaneously combust already? Seriously.】 【Using the ‘best friend’ card to pull this crap… she’s a real piece of work.】 【His one true love has already appeared. Get rid of this pick-me girl, she’s disgusting!】 I stood there in silence for a moment, then pulled the shower curtain closed. When Anson called later, asking me out for another drink, my voice was flat. “I can’t. I’m pregnant.” I paused, then added, “And no, it’s not yours.” 1 We’re adults. We have needs. Anson and I had known each other forever, and he’d always kept his circle clean. So, what happened, happened. Last night was insane. He pulled me from the bathroom to the floor-to-ceiling windows, a whirlwind of tangled limbs and breathless moments. But when his phone rang at the crack of dawn, he was gone, not even remembering to grab me my favorite chicken and wild rice soup from Henderson’s on his way out. And then, in the shower, the stream of text appeared. Once I pieced it all together, I understood. I was the despised “girl-bro.” Anson was destined for someone else. His early morning disappearing act? It was for her. He’d been obsessed with this girl for a week, making a pilgrimage to her coffee shop every single morning, a relentless, charming pest. I was curious. Were these vulgar comments scrolling before my eyes real? The moment I walked into that coffee shop, Anson froze. The girl was leaning over to place a coffee in front of him, a strand of her hair brushing against his arm. His eyes met mine, and his composure shattered. “L-Leah…” The girl looked up at me. I smiled. “One Americano. Black, no sugar.” The comments went wild. 【Who the hell does she think she is, ordering the main character around?! I’m gonna lose my mind!】 【Does she think she’s hot stuff just sitting there? He was never hers to begin with, what’s with the attitude?!】 【He hasn’t even won the girl over yet and she’s already here stirring up trouble. How pathetic can you get?!】 The girl blinked, a little startled. “Would you like that iced or hot, ma’am?” “Hot, thank you.” She turned to get back to work. Anson’s eyes darted around, guilt written all over his face. “How did you find this place?” I didn’t answer. He scrambled for an excuse. “This is… a friend’s shop.” I remained silent. He hesitated, then tested the waters. “Leah, are you mad?” 2 “Here you go, ma’am,” the girl said politely. “Your Americano.” Her pale hand placed the cup on my table. She lingered, making no move to leave. The comments wailed in agony. 【I can’t with this. The moment our girl starts to fall for him, this damn pick-me shows up.】 【Her heart is turning to ice right now!】 【Does this ‘girl-bro’ seriously not get how much she’s in the way? Acting all high and mighty…】 Anson glanced from me to her, then back again. Clenching his jaw, he stood up and took the girl’s arm. “Mia, this is—” “I’m Anson’s…” I cut him off, watching the color drain from his face before finishing slowly, “…best friend. One of the guys.” Both of them went pale. 【Oh my god, she actually had the nerve to say it out loud?】 【It’s okay, girl, I get you. I used to be a pick-me too, until someone beat the crap out of me. Haven’t dared since.】 【This is next level. She’s just straight-up declaring war!】 Beneath the flood of text, Mia’s eyes reddened. Anson shot up, flustered. “Mia, don’t be upset.” I took a sip of my coffee. The bitterness made me wince. I scanned the QR code, paid, and walked out. All I needed was to confirm the comments were real. Dragging this out any further was pointless. As I pushed the door open, the early summer breeze hit my face. Someone rushed out after me, their expression ugly. “Leah, did you come all this way just to give her a hard time?” 3 My eyes fell on the dark red mark on his neck. I pulled a compact mirror from my bag and handed it to him. “You missed a spot.” He froze. His gaze dropped to the mirror, and panic flashed in his eyes. “This… a mosquito must’ve gotten me at some point.” He tried to pull his collar up to hide the mark. A pathetic attempt to hide the obvious. I was already walking away. I was the one who left that mark. What was he trying to explain to me? 4 Luckily, the trip to the coffee shop didn’t take long. Henderson’s was still open. I definitely needed a bowl of their chicken and wild rice soup to refuel. It was a shame, though. Anson was one of the few guys I knew inside and out. The experience was… satisfactory. And free. Guess that’s off the table now. As I was lamenting my loss, the group chat with all our old neighborhood friends started blowing up. Anson: 【Guys, I’m officially taken. Anyone free tonight? Let’s celebrate.】 Someone in the group immediately started teasing him. 【Cut the crap, man. If you wanna drink, just say it. We all know who you’re with.】 【Yeah, seriously. We’ve known Leah longer than you have. Stop showing off.】 Anson sent a series of ellipses. The next moment, a new person was added to the group. A profile picture of a fluffy pink cloud. She sent a voice message. 【Hi everyone, I’m Anson’s girlfriend, Mia! It’s so nice to meet you all! ♡】 The chat went silent for a beat. Then, a flood of welcome emojis filled the screen. Privately, four or five messages popped up on my phone. 【Leah, what’s going on? Did you and Anson have a fight?】 I couldn’t reply to all of them. I decided to just respond to Mia in the main group. 【Welcome.】 Almost instantly, another voice note from Mia appeared. 【Is Leah in this group? I heard she’s like, a really good friend to all you guys.】 5 The comments were howling with laughter. 【LMAO, no matter how smug the pick-me acts, she still has to call the girlfriend ‘sis’ once it’s official.】 【Go, Mia, go! Called her out the second she joined the group. Let’s see what face this girl has left.】 【This is the kind of satisfying drama I live for! Everyone stand and applaud!】 My… arrangement with Anson had been going on for six months. Our closeness wasn’t a secret in our little circle. Even if I maintained the “best friend” persona, I was Anson’s best friend. With one sentence, Mia had demoted me to being everyone’s buddy. The group chat fell silent again. No one dared to touch that line. Only Anson responded, tagging the pink cloud. 【You can’t expect every girl to be as sweet and reserved as you.】 He then sent me a private message. 【She doesn’t know about us.】 【This one’s on me. Can you just let it go?】 It seemed he’d recovered from the initial shock and guilt of seeing me this morning. He was firmly choosing his one true love. I didn’t reply. Then, a notification popped up. A wire transfer from Anson. $5,000.00. Another one. $13,140.00. Large, specific amounts. The kind you can’t easily dispute. I accepted the money. Anson sent a pleading emoji. I was quiet for a moment, then typed a reply in the group chat. 【See you tonight.】 I had made my stance clear. Only then did our friends start chiming in. 【Got it, see you tonight!】 And just like that, the invisible peanut gallery exploded again. 【What’s her problem? Has she never been to a party before? Gotta make her presence known even at his relationship announcement?】 【The female rivalry is strong with this one. The whole ‘girl-bro’ act is just designed to piss off the girlfriend, isn’t it? I’m getting second-hand cringe.】 【Someone please tell this girl to stop being so delusional. Not every guy is secretly in love with her.】 【I think you just perfectly psychoanalyzed Leah lol.】 【She’s a prophet! Get her!】 My eyes scanned the text. Tonight’s party… who said I was going for Anson? 6 I must have been exhausted from the night before. By the time I woke up, it was already late. When I arrived at the restaurant, most of our friends were already there. Mia’s eyes locked onto me instantly. Instead of a greeting, she smiled and tapped a dish on the menu. The peel-and-eat shrimp. “I’d love to have this, but peeling them is such a pain.” Anson, ever the doting new boyfriend, stroked her head indulgently. “I’ll peel them for you.” Mia beamed, then acted as if she’d just noticed my arrival. “Oh, Leah’s here! Why are you sitting so far away?” She feigned curiosity. “Shouldn’t the ‘best friend’ sit right next to the guys?” The table went quiet. She pursed her lips, pretending to realize her mistake. “Oh, Anson… did I say something wrong?” I laughed. “You didn’t say anything wrong.” I looked her up and down. “You seem to know a lot about how ‘girl-bros’ operate. Speaking from experience?” Mia and Anson’s faces changed in perfect unison once again. I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the show. I’d never seen Anson look so cornered before. Now that I was over him, it was actually quite entertaining. 【So gross. Why are these types of girls so annoying? Just because she’s known him longer, she thinks she has some kind of superiority?】 【Leah has such a toxic mouth. Just because Mia saw through her little game, she accuses her of being the same kind of trash?!】 【Wow, she’s great at dragging people down with her. Are you okay, lady?!】 Anson finally met my gaze again. The guilt was gone, replaced by a steely resolve. “Leah, Mia’s young.” The next part was obvious. He was going to tell me to be the bigger person. A friend tried to smooth things over. “Leah, come sit over here with me.” Suddenly, the door to the private room swung open. A voice, dripping with a playful smirk, announced, “Sorry I’m late, guys. The race just finished.” 7 He was the very picture of youthful arrogance, brimming with a devil-may-care energy. He plopped down in the chair right next to me, the one I had my arm draped over. Even through his leather racing jacket, I could feel the heat radiating off him. “Leah,” he purred, “I came just for you.” The room fell silent. Anson’s face instantly darkened. The comments erupted. 【What’s this new game? Is the pick-me playing hard to get now?】 【This trick is so old and she’s still using it? Does she really think he’s going to fall for that?】 【I’m telling you, any social circle with a ‘girl-bro’ is a mess. She’s probably been passed around by everyone in the group. Why else would they all defer to her?】 【Go get a check-up, you skank!】 Ryder picked up a menu from the table, flipping through the pages. “The pot roast, the honey-glazed ham, and the BBQ ribs. One of each, thanks.” After ordering, he turned back to me. “Those are your favorites, right, Leah?” The comments. A stream of ellipses flowed across my vision. 【…】 【…】 【…】 【So Leah found this psycho to make Anson jealous? LMAO, you’re kidding me, right?】 【He might be hot, but the second he opens his mouth, you know he’s a mess. How is this guy supposed to make Anson regret anything?!】 【Wait, hold on… look at Anson.】 Following their lead, I saw it. Anson’s expression had changed completely. His fist, resting on the table, was trembling slightly. I knew why he was losing his cool. When I was a teenager, going through a growth spurt, I loved heavy, greasy food. Anson caught me once and teased me for eating like a slob. That’s how the “one of the guys” nickname started. It wasn’t until I got older and developed a sense of self-consciousness that I made him swear to stop. He only agreed to keep it a secret after I promised him, “Childhood friends, forever and ever.” My favorite foods were supposed to be our little secret. And now, another man was casually listing them off right in front of him. And that man was now gently, tantalizingly, hooking his pinky finger around mine. “I remembered, right, Leah?” 8 Smack. The leather-bound menu hit the table with a loud crack. Everyone in the room turned to the source of the sound. Anson’s face was a thundercloud. The man beside me just raised a dark eyebrow. “What’s the problem, Anson?” he drawled. “Think my order’s too expensive?” His pinky continued its slow, deliberate dance with mine, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “If money’s tight, I can cover it.” Before Anson could explode, the comments did. 【Holy sh*t, what is this guy saying… how can he talk like that!】 【Dude, wake up! Look at the trash sitting next to you! Even if you’re rivals, you shouldn’t fight over a girl like her!】 【This is all her fault. She’s playing one against the other. She must be loving this!】 It seemed the comment section was a big fan of male solidarity. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Anson, however, was furious. “Leah, did you bring him here just to ruin things?” “Hmm? The invitation you sent to the group didn’t include me, Anson?” The two men’s gazes locked across the round table, sparks flying between them. The next second, they both stood up and walked out of the room. Mia’s face was pale. “Anson…” “It’s fine, Mia. Wait for me.” Back in the room, no one spoke. Everyone was used to the friction that sparked whenever these two were in the same place. Even though they were in the same neighborhood group, Anson never showed up to events if Ryder was there, and vice versa. Their rivalry was no act. But the little flower across from me had clearly never seen a showdown like this. Her eyes were red as she looked around at everyone, a picture of vulnerability. I couldn’t be bothered to meet her gaze. I pushed my chair back and stepped out into the hallway. The two of them had picked a less-than-ideal spot for their chat. Just around the corner, I could hear every word perfectly. 9 “Everyone in the group knows about Leah and me. You didn’t?” “I know. So what?” “She’s been in my bed for the last six months. You really want my sloppy seconds?” The click of a lighter echoed from around the corner. Ryder’s voice was lazy, dismissive. “What? You expect her to stay celibate for you or something?” “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Aren’t you disgusted picking up my leftovers?” Before I could storm around the corner, I heard the sickening thud of a fist hitting flesh. Ryder had Anson by the collar, his eyes blazing. “If you don’t know how to talk, then shut your damn mouth, you piece of garbage.” Anson just laughed, grabbing Ryder’s shoulder to retaliate. “Anson!” I shouted his name. His body went rigid. He looked at me in disbelief, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Leah, when did you get here?” I took a steadying breath. “Right before you called me your sloppy seconds.” Ryder let go of his collar. Anson was stunned. “Leah, I’m a man. I know what other men want. Ryder is obviously just…” He didn’t finish. A full glass of wine splashed across his face. A passing waiter froze, his face white with shock. I wiped my hand. “Put this on Room 888’s tab.” The waiter practically fled. I curled my lips into a smile. “Just helping you clear your head. A little lesson in respect.” His jaw tightened. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other. Then, he laughed, a cold, humorless sound. “Is this your revenge for me getting a girlfriend? Using this guy?” “You know what kind of scene he runs in. The dirt, the grime.” His tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, his confidence returning. “You’re so obsessed with being clean. You really think… you think I’d believe you’d touch someone like him?” From the direction of the private room, Mia’s tearful voice called out, “Anson, where did you go…?” Anson’s expression changed. He strode back towards her. I heard her gasp. “Oh my god, you’re hurt.” 10 How sweet. I didn’t need to see it; the comments were giving me a play-by-play of their tender moment. I started to head back, but a hand caught my arm. Ryder had a bruise forming on the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were fixed on me, intense and unwavering. “The scene might be messy,” he said, his voice low. “But I’m not.” His eyes were burning. “I always knew you liked the clean-cut type.” Just like my favorite foods. I’d never told Ryder any of this, yet he knew it all. I figured some things needed to be said before they started. “I did sleep with Anson.” He went silent. “And I have no intention of ever getting married.” That’s why I needed a partner who was relatively stable and clean. It wasn’t about loyalty. It was about what one of those comments had guessed right. Protecting my health. Ryder’s lips pressed into a thin line, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Then… why didn’t you choose me from the start?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t very well tell him I’d heard the racing scene was notoriously wild. After all, Ryder had lost a good fifty pounds in the year since he started racing. Aside from illegal activities, the only other explanation was… excessive physical exertion. A waiter carrying a platter of meat dishes walked by. Ryder stopped him. “The food for Room 888? You can cancel it. Just pack it to go.” The waiter hesitated. Ryder pulled him towards the front desk. “It’s Anson’s private room, you think he’s going to stiff you? Pack up these meat dishes, and bring him some king crab and peel-and-eat shrimp instead. Anything that’s a pain in the ass to eat. The man’s trying to do business, help him keep his guests occupied. Now go.” 11 He dragged me out of the restaurant and back to his car. The boyish features were gone, replaced by the sharp, wild edges of a young man. The chubby kid I remembered was a distant memory. He was urgent, pressing me against the back of the passenger seat. His breath was hot and ragged against my ear. “Leah… you said you’d give me a chance.” I pushed against his shoulder, my gaze serious. “How did you know Anson was going to peel shrimp for her?” He wasn’t even there at the time. His lips hovered just above my eyes. “I was worried that bastard would use his new girlfriend to put you down, so I had someone in the group give me a live feed.” After his confession, he leaned in again. My head was spinning, but there were rules that had to be set. “Ryder, I’m not looking for a relationship.” His voice was laced with disappointment. “Leah, please… don’t say that now.” He kissed me like he’d been starving for years, a desperate, reverent touch. After a long moment, he pulled back, breathless but clear-headed. “Not here.” The sports car tore through the empty streets, a blur of motion and sound. He swept me up in his whirlwind, and before I knew it, we were back at my apartment. My consciousness drifted in and out. I had a fleeting thought: so, the chubby kid didn’t just lose weight… he must have been hitting the gym. Hard. Beneath the racing jacket wasn’t a dirty soul. It was a ridiculously ripped physique. Well, then. I was definitely not getting the short end of this stick. The next day, I woke up starving. I vaguely remembered the takeout from last night, none of which I’d had a chance to eat. Then, a delicious aroma wafted in from the kitchen. That smell… it was Henderson’s chicken and wild rice soup. I walked out to see Ryder in an apron. “You’re awake? I’m just finishing up an omelet. It’ll be ready in a second.” My eyes fell to his feet. “Why aren’t you wearing slippers?” He tensed. “I’m not wearing anything that bastard wore.” Fine by me. It wasn’t my feet getting cold. After a few spoonfuls of soup, I realized something was off. “How did you know I like this?” He placed the omelet on the table, his eyes holding an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “You never told me what you like. But when I care about something… I pay attention.” It sounded almost like an accusation. I didn’t have the energy to analyze it. I unlocked my phone. It was flooded with missed calls. A relentless stream of video calls from Anson. A cascade of 60-second voice messages. No money transfers, so I didn’t bother listening. The comments, which had been absent all night, started scrolling again. 【What is he doing? Did he really fall for her trick?】 【A woman who can navigate a group of guys like that is never good news. Is he not worried about catching something?】 【For all he knows, she was with someone else last night. I don’t get what he’s so worked up about!】 【Ugh, they were supposed to have a perfect night and she ruined it all! Damn bitch!】 Their words reminded me. Ryder had been the one to reach out yesterday. “Now that you’re done with him, does that mean I have a chance?” My answer had been, “I’ll consider it.” And he took that “consideration” straight to my bed? I didn’t like calculating men. They were the type to go after my money. 12 My phone rang. Anson’s voice, furious and frantic, blasted through the speaker. “Leah, where are you? Did you and that asshole just ditch my party?!” I held the phone away from my ear. “I wouldn’t call it ditching.” We did show up, after all. But in our circle of friends, my family’s company was currently the most successful. If I left, it was highly unlikely anyone else would stick around. “Leah, why aren’t you eating your omelet?” Ryder pushed the plate closer to me. The other end of the line went dead silent. Then, Anson’s voice erupted, a raw, broken sound. “Leah, where are you?! Who is that? Is that Ryder? Are you insane?! Do you have any idea what kind of world he’s involved in?!” I didn’t move. Ryder simply picked up the omelet, cut it into small pieces, and waited. After a moment, seeing I had no intention of responding to Anson, he let out a soft, slow chuckle. “The racing world,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but loud enough for the phone to pick up. “If you’re curious, Anson, I can tell you all about it.” The line went dead. 【Wait, what is he doing? She slept with someone else, why is HE throwing a tantrum?!】 【That’s just how ‘girl-bros’ are. They sleep with everyone in the circle.】 【I feel so bad for Mia. She’s probably crying into her pillow right now.】 【Hold on, calling the ‘girl-bro’ first thing in the morning? There’s a flaw in his character arc here…】 So, Anson had been busy too. Impressive. He usually needed a full day to recover after a night like ours. I had to hand it to him, finding the energy to meddle in my affairs after his own marathon session. 13 I’d barely stepped out the door when I got a call from building security. Anson was camped outside my apartment, banging on the door, telling anyone who tried to stop him that he was the owner’s boyfriend. I saw the new ring of hickies decorating his neck in the security feed. I frowned. I never thought Anson would stoop to something so trashy. We both had new partners. What was this, trying to have his cake and eat it too? My phone buzzed with his texts. 【Leah, even if you’re trying to get back at me, you could have found someone better. You know what Ryder is like.】 【I can’t just stand by and watch you ruin your life!】 【Leah, I know you’re hurt, but you can’t do this to yourself, Leah!】 I called security and had them revoke Anson’s access to the elevator. Then I finally took a moment to reply to him. 【Haven’t you cured your hero complex yet?】 Silence. Plenty of people in our old neighborhood circle were in business, their families and fortunes intertwined. If Anson hadn’t made such a scene, I wouldn’t have wanted to humiliate him. The man driving the car kept stealing glances at me. “Leah,” he said suddenly, “there will never be anyone else but you.” I tossed my phone aside and leaned back against the seat. “Fine.” As long as he didn’t try to force me to believe in love, he could say whatever he wanted. 14 For two solid weeks, Ryder and I explored the mysteries of the human body. Pecs, abs… none of them compared to a solid, well-defined… gluteus maximus. He relentlessly insisted he was the cleanest guy I’d ever meet. He gave up drinking, parties, everything. He’d even drive me to a spa appointment and wait in the car downstairs for hours. I couldn’t take it anymore. I kicked him lightly in the shin. “Don’t you ever have races or anything?” “I have one tomorrow, actually. A cross-desert rally. I’ll be gone for days.” I breathed a sigh of relief. But he caught my ankle, his eyes darkening. “So, Leah… to prove just how clean I am, tonight, I’m going to make sure there’s nothing left.” Nothing… left? My mind went blank as he pulled me into his arms. I was too tired to even cry, but through the haze, I thought I heard him whisper softly in my ear. “Leah… can I have my own pair of slippers?” 15 When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky, casting bright stripes across the tangled sheets. Sunlight illuminated the faint, reddish marks scattered across my legs. The apartment was empty. I should have been relieved, but a strange sense of emptiness settled in my chest. Humans really are social creatures. You get used to someone being around, and their absence leaves a void. On the table was a large insulated container. I opened it, and the familiar, comforting scent of Henderson’s chicken and wild rice soup filled the air. It was still warm. As I took a few bites, I thought, it’s just a pair of slippers. What’s the big deal? The group chat, silent for weeks, lit up again. Someone was planning a night out at a new bar, one that was supposedly filled with gorgeous people. I replied with a simple, “OK.” It was still early, so I went out for a bit. I found myself in a designer store, buying a ridiculously overpriced pair of logo-covered slippers. My mind drifted. I remembered how Anson had just brought his own things to my place without asking. And now Ryder… Well, what can I say? The little wolf knew how to be charming. 16 The new bar lived up to its hype. It was packed, a sea of beautiful, laughing people. Our friends had booked the largest booth, and the table was already covered in bottles. Maybe it had been too long since I’d been out, but the thumping music was starting to get on my nerves. Some of our friends were cheering for the attractive people on the dance floor. One of them noticed my mood. “Leah, check out that DJ! He’s super popular right now!” I glanced over. He was pale and pretty, but his wiry frame was nothing compared to the raw, explosive power of a well-built physique. I was bored. After a few drinks, the comments started scrolling again. 【Is it just me, or does Anson not seem to appreciate Mia now that he has her? The sweet moments between them have really fizzled out.】 【I agree. He’s been totally distracted lately.】 【Don’t tell me he’s still thinking about that girl-bro. Is this a case of the ‘grass is always greener’? Ugh, I’m losing my faith in love.】 【Hey hey hey, look! In that booth! Isn’t that the pick-me?!】 【Oh crap, look at Anson’s eyes light up. What a scumbag. I’m done with this story!】 A moment later, someone sat down beside me. He didn’t even grab a drink before getting straight to the point. “Leah, I told you Ryder was bad news.” I looked up and saw the undisguised glee in his eyes. Friends from across the booth, unable to hear Anson over the music, stood up to raise their glasses. To Anson’s right, Mia tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and delicate. “Anson, it’s that time of the month, I can’t drink…” He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, standing up to clink glasses with our friends. The only two people left sitting on the sofa were me and Mia. Our eyes met. She quickly looked away, embarrassed. 【What is he doing? Can’t he stand up for his own girlfriend?】 【I don’t get it. What kind of ‘one true love’ is this? I was so moved when he was chasing her.】 【Has he been brainwashed by the pick-me?】 【Wait, look at her. What is she doing?!】 17 I flagged down a waiter and ordered two glasses of milk. When I placed one in front of Mia, she looked at me, utterly shocked. Anson noticed and his gaze fell on me, his eyes softening with a strange tenderness. “Leah, you’re looking out for her for me. It’s because you still have feelings for me, isn’t it?” Just as he spoke, the music cut out. Mia’s face went white. Well. Playing the saint isn’t for everyone. I grabbed the friend to my left and swapped seats with him. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mia and Anson arguing about something. Her eyes were red. The next thing I knew, a stack of photos was slapped onto the table. They were thrown with such force that the top one flew off and landed at my feet. The photo showed a man in a racing jacket. In the passenger seat of his car sat a beautiful woman with curly hair. The car was parked in front of a hotel. The time stamp in the bottom right corner… was from today. The sound system must have malfunctioned, because all I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears. Anson was spreading the photos out across the table, one by one. “Leah, take a good look. I told you Ryder was no good!” He grabbed my arm. I don’t know where the rage came from, but I swung my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Anson froze. Even our friends were too stunned to say a word.

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Six years into my crush on Alistair, we ended up in an arranged marriage. Post-wedding, our life was a polite, passionless affair. Two ultra-thin condoms a week, like clockwork. All because of something Alistair once said: “A marriage devoid of emotion is the most stable kind.” So, I carefully concealed the tidal wave of my love for him. Until Alistair’s old flame returned to the country. He started staying out late, choosing cold showers over touching me. I drafted the divorce papers myself and went to find him. That’s when I heard his thoughts. 【I love my wife I love my wife I love my wife I love my wife…】 1 On my wedding night with Alistair, I chugged half a bottle of wine for courage. The alcohol went straight to my head, painting my cheeks a feverish red. Alistair’s elegant hand cupped the back of my neck as his lips descended, soft and gentle. “You’ve been drinking. May I proceed?” he asked. A low “Mmm…” escaped my throat. But a thought, inopportune and sharp, cut through the haze. Even now, doing this, he’s so cool and composed. Well, of course he was. Our marriage was a business arrangement, after all. Soon, I lost the capacity for coherent thought. The traditional wedding dress slipped half-off my shoulders. The cool air on my skin sent a shiver through me. Alistair, in contrast, had only undone two buttons of his shirt. His tie hung loosely, revealing a glimpse of tanned skin and the firm lines of his chest rising and falling with each breath. My mouth went dry. “Alistair…” He let out a low chuckle, his voice a soothing balm. “Tansy, don’t be nervous.” He pinned me to the edge of the bed with one hand. He knelt before me, looking up, and then, without warning, his lips found the small mole on my inner thigh. His voice, husky and deep, mingled with hot breath against my ear. “If it’s uncomfortable, tell me to stop at any time.” My fingers tightened in his dark, tousled hair. How to describe the feeling of being married to Alistair? It was like looking up and suddenly seeing the aurora borealis. A stunning, unbelievable surprise. I wanted to hold on to him, to make it real. What happened after that is a blur, thanks to the wine. I only know that when I woke up the next morning, my legs were so weak I nearly collapsed. And. Alistair was gravely, seriously, discussing the optimal frequency of condom usage with me. “…Five times a week?” My soul, which had been floating somewhere in the stratosphere, snapped back to reality at his last few words. My eyes widened. “Five?” Alistair glanced at me and, without missing a beat, amended his proposal. “Then twice a week it is.” 2 I was the one who suggested postponing the honeymoon. Alistair’s company was in a busy period, and I was about to start a new project as a staff writer for a TV show. But the real reason was, I wanted to wait until there was some semblance of feeling between us. Even a little. Even if it was manufactured. Married life with Alistair was surprisingly harmonious, both in our daily routines and… physically. He had an uncanny knack for attentiveness in that department. The only change was that the “two condoms a week” had become “twice a week, one box per session.” The next morning, as I stood on trembling legs, fumbling to tie Alistair’s tie, my brain was still foggy. “Alistair, on work nights, maybe we should…” I paused, trying to phrase it delicately. “Maybe we shouldn’t stay up so late.” As much as I lusted after his body, I believed in sustainable resources. “I’m not saying no to marital activities,” I clarified, my cheeks flushing. “It’s just… for our health, maybe we could go back to twice a week?” I snuck a glance at his expression as I spoke. My hands didn’t stop their work on his tie, finishing the knot with practiced ease. Whenever Alistair was home, I was the one who tied his tie. Just as he was the one who always dried and styled my hair after I washed it. I was always embarrassed by it, but he would just say, “Do you think my hands are clumsy, Tansy? We’re husband and wife. There’s no need for such formalities.” I cherished those moments. They created the illusion that Alistair loved me. But I knew. I knew he had a past love he couldn’t let go of. Still, it was okay. His life, from now on, would be filled with me. Alistair listened to my suggestion, one eyebrow raised slightly. The sharp, chiseled line of his jaw tensed. “I apologize. I lost control last night. But Tansy, I have needs too.” I froze. His thumb, through the fabric of my silk pajamas, pressed against my aching lower back, rubbing gentle circles as he continued. “I had an unexpected meeting last night, which is why we started so late. I’ll be more mindful of the time from now on. We can start earlier.” “Tansy,” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, “were you uncomfortable yesterday? Do you need me to apply some ointment?” My face turned crimson. I squeezed out a single word. “…No.” Alistair’s dark eyes narrowed. His long fingers tilted my chin up as he leaned in, his body pressing against mine. His lips descended, a searing kiss that quickly became a demanding, breathless plunder. He guided my hand down past his eight-pack abs, and my breath hitched. After a long moment, Alistair’s voice was a rough whisper. “But… you’re right about everything, Tansy.” “For the sake of our health, how about you join me for a workout three mornings a week?” I… My world came crashing down. 3 The tie was a wasted effort. Afterward, Alistair carried me to the bathroom to clean up. He looked down at me, his breath warm against my hair. “Leo wants to get together next week. Are you free?” “He’s invested in a new bar that’s just opening. He invited a bunch of our old high school friends. You know everyone,” he explained. A high school reunion. Did that mean… was Leo going to invite her? I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “I can’t. The studio just added a major supporting character to the script I’m working on. My part needs a lot of rewrites. I’m starting on set soon, so I probably won’t have time. I’m sorry.” Leo, Alistair, and my older brother were all childhood friends. We went to the same high school. When I was a freshman, Alistair was a senior. I used to tag along with my brother and his friends, but my crush on Alistair and my naturally quiet, introverted personality meant I was usually just a silent observer, my eyes secretly following his every move. To get closer to him, I would intentionally get a few problems wrong on my physics tests, just to have an excuse to ask him for help. Then, in the second semester, Sarah transferred into Alistair’s class. She was brilliant and outgoing. Not only did she know Alistair from before, but she also fit seamlessly into his circle of friends. I never expected her to seek me out. “Tansy, you like Alistair, don’t you?” My eyelashes fluttered. I didn’t know how to respond. Not even my own brother knew about my crush. Sarah tilted her head, a half-smile playing on her lips. “But Alistair told me he only sees you as a little sister.” “I’m going to ask him out. If he says yes… Tansy, maybe you should stop using ‘studying’ as an excuse to get close to him, okay?” After Sarah asked Alistair out, she made a point of coming to me for a “heart-to-heart.” “Alistair and I have known each other since we were kids. I transferred here because of him. And thanks to him, I was able to get into this school as a senior. I was going to wait until after graduation to be with him, but I just got an early acceptance to college, so I don’t want to wait anymore. Little sister… maybe you should focus more on your studies from now on.” Later, Sarah and Alistair broke up for some reason. Around the time that song “The One That Got Away” was popular, the topic of old flames came up at a party. Leo had laughed, his tone suggestive. “Alistair’s got one. He’s been single all this time, waiting for someone.” 4 One word from the money-grubbing execs, and my life became a blur of all-nighters, rewriting scripts. On the fifth night of sleeping in my study, Alistair knocked on the door. “Tansy.” He rarely used my full name. I looked up, confused. He walked in, bringing a wave of cool, damp air with him. His tone was unreadable. “Have you forgotten you have a husband? Or are you planning on sleeping in here from now on? A separation?” It wasn’t until he had me pressed against the desk, his lips curved into a smirk, our breaths mingling, that I understood what he meant. I blushed and responded to his kiss, trying to appease him. “Tansy, don’t ever ignore me like this again, okay?” he said suddenly. I blinked, stammering, “I just forgot… about… you know.” “I haven’t been ignoring you…” Before I could finish, Alistair’s eyes darkened. He bit my lip gently, silencing me with another kiss. He didn’t press the issue. The lamp overhead seemed to sway. I bit my lip, my eyes on our intertwined hands. I was starting to feel that our polite, respectful marriage wasn’t enough. Maybe… maybe we could actually fall in love. A thought I’d never dared to entertain before began to bloom in the secret corners of my heart. Could it be that Alistair is starting to like me, even just a little? 5 The night of the party, it was 11:30 PM, and Alistair still wasn’t home. I was debating whether to text him when a message from him came in. 【Drank too much, can’t drive. Staying at Leo’s place tonight. Don’t wait up.】 On a whim, I asked Leo for the address. I wanted to surprise Alistair by picking him up. It was a shame my brother was in Paris on business, or I could have gotten the information more discreetly. I timed my arrival for when their parties usually ended and drove to Leo’s new bar. I was scanning the room, about to call Leo for their location, when my eyes locked onto a figure at the bar. In the dim light, Alistair sat with his back straight, casually swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He exuded an air of cool, refined elegance that was all his own. A smile touched my lips, and I watched him for a long moment before starting to walk over. Then I heard his voice, cool and detached. “…A marriage devoid of emotion is the most stable kind.” My smile froze. The words were like daggers to my heart. A burning sensation welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t bear to hear another word. I turned and fled. I missed Leo’s next sentence. “Cut the crap, Alistair. You can’t even follow your own advice. And you’re trying to convince me to get into an arranged marriage?” I stumbled into the bathroom. The salty tears mixed with the cold water from the sink. The human heart is a greedy thing. Alistair had been so good to me after we got married. He always told me his schedule, remembered my preferences, left a light on for me because he knew I was afraid of the dark… I had mistaken his sense of marital duty for love. After a moment, I looked up at my reflection and forced a hideous smile. “Tansy, you have to be content,” I whispered. I prayed he would never find out about my secret love for him. I composed myself and walked out, only to come face-to-face with Leo and the others. Alistair was at the back of the group, looking down at his phone. Leo spotted me first and waved. “Tansy…” he started, then kicked the guy next to him, who was still rambling on. But the guy didn’t get the hint. He kept talking. “Tansy? Weren’t we just talking about Sarah being back and looking for a job? If she’d come back sooner, maybe Alistair…” 6 Leo jabbed his elbow into the guy’s stomach, finally shutting him up. The familiar name echoed in my ears. I zoned out for a second. Sarah… she was back? Were she and Alistair in touch? “See? I told you. Tansy got the address to pick up her husband.” “Alistair!” Leo grabbed Alistair and pushed his arm into mine. “Go home, you two. Tansy, he’s drunk. Wasted! You can do whatever you want with him.” I blinked, then looked up to see Leo winking at Alistair. I studied Alistair. He smelled faintly of alcohol, but his eyes were clear, his posture relaxed. He didn’t look drunk at all. Just as I was thinking this, Alistair’s gaze clouded over. His tall frame swayed, and he buried his head in the crook of my neck. “So dizzy,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “They made me drink… Did you come all this way just to take me home, Tansy?” His warm breath on my neck sent a shiver down my spine. Amidst the teasing from our friends, I felt flustered and could only manage a soft “Mmm.” Alistair’s lips curved into a smile, and his hand found mine, our fingers lacing together. I looked down, flustered, and led him carefully out of the bar. 【This is the first time my wife has ever come to pick me up.】 Alistair’s deep voice suddenly sounded in my ear. I froze and looked at him. A triumphant smile played on his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He hadn’t spoken, but I heard his voice again: 【Leo’s suggestion wasn’t totally useless after all.】 【My wife is so cute when she’s shy.】 【Hmm, does this mean I can use the third condom tonight?】 7 Waiting at a red light, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Alistair in the passenger seat. He was leaning his head on his hand, his eyes closed, his breathing even. He seemed to be asleep. Did I… did I just hear Alistair’s thoughts? My mood, which had plummeted, was now soaring like a roller coaster. I hesitated, then decided to test the waters. “Alistair, are you really drunk? If you’re not feeling well, I can stop at a pharmacy and get you some sobering medicine.” He slowly opened his eyes, a thin haze clouding their dark depths. “No need.” He rubbed his temples. “Just a headache…” I nodded, my eyes fixed on his impassive face. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. It was all too fantastical. I couldn’t bring myself to ask. The light turned green. Before I drove off, I glanced at Alistair again. He had shifted positions, his cool, handsome face now in full view. The corner of his mouth was turned up in a barely perceptible smile. I didn’t hear any other voices in the car. The confusion and doubt lingered all the way home. I had just parked the car when Alistair’s phone rang. I caught a glimpse of the caller ID. Sarah. “Alistair, can you come pick me up…?” My hand hovered over the door handle. A sour taste filled my mouth. I slammed the car door shut and walked into the building alone, leaving the “drunk” Alistair behind. Alistair paused, still holding the phone. Sarah’s voice continued on the other end. “Grandpa Alistair knows my new place is still being renovated, so he invited me to stay at the main house to keep him company. But it’s been so long, I don’t know how to get there. I heard from Leo that you guys had a get-together tonight. Why didn’t you invite me? I could have made time.” Alistair watched my retreating figure, a confused look on his face. After a moment, he clicked his tongue before finally answering her. 8 Once inside, I stood in the entryway for a long time, my mind a chaotic mess. After a moment of deliberation, I picked up my phone and texted my best friend. Chloe was my high school classmate and my confidante, the only person who knew about my six-year crush on Alistair. 【Chloe, Sarah’s back.】 【She just called Alistair and asked him to pick her up…】 Chloe replied instantly. 【?】 【At one in the morning, she’s calling a married man to pick her up?】 【Is she insane?】 【Tansy, get a grip. I know it’s an arranged marriage, but you and Alistair are legally married now.】 【Even if Sarah was his first love, they broke up! What she’s doing now is trying to be a homewrecker!】 【And we don’t even know for sure if she was his first love.】 【Remember when he was studying abroad? He was always checking in on you. He even told you he was single.】 I stared at the screen, my mind drifting. When I was a sophomore in high school, Alistair was already studying overseas. But he would message me from time to time, asking about my studies, checking in. After a few times, I got annoyed. “My brother said you’re so busy you only get six hours of sleep a night. You should spend your free time with your girlfriend,” I had replied. “My grades are fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Alistair: 【?】 The “typing…” bubble appeared and disappeared for a long time before his next message came through. 【Tansy, I’m single.】 【I appreciate the concern, but I still have time to help you with your studies.】 I was stunned. He and Sarah had broken up? A mix of surprise, confusion, and elation exploded in my chest. I made a bold decision: after graduation, I would try to win him over. But then… Leo had personally confirmed that Alistair was single because he was waiting for his old flame. Chloe’s messages were still flooding in when the front door opened. It was Alistair. Our eyes met. My mouth opened, but no words came out. I quickly looked away. It was always like this. The moment I saw him, all the things I wanted to say evaporated. I clutched my phone and hurried into the bedroom. 【Alistair’s back. He didn’t go.】 【But something happened tonight.】 【I’m not sure what he’s thinking now.】 Chloe sent back a facepalm emoji. 【Just ask him.】 【Stop retreating into your shell every time something happens! You’re driving me crazy!】 【Are you just going to let Sarah be a thorn in your side forever?】 【Listen to me. Go put on that battle armor I got you. Ask him while you’re doing it. You won’t have the energy to overthink things. I guarantee you’ll get an answer.】 【The last time I was at your place for dinner, the way Alistair looked at you was anything but innocent. Based on your condom consumption rate, I’d say he’s at least attracted to you. The rest isn’t impossible.】 【Go, Tansy.】

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I was at dinner with my fiancé-to-be when my arch-nemesis decided to crash the party. As if stealing my contracts wasn’t enough, now he was ruining my date. “Getting married after just one week? I never took you for someone who’s into beanpoles, Vivian,” he sneered, his voice a low rumble. “You could do better. Or is he the best you could find?” His chest, his abs, his biceps—they were all practically flexing in my face, making my head spin. I couldn’t make out the rest of his taunts over the buzzing in my ears. Drunk and utterly annoyed, all I could think was how much better life would be if he were mute. On a dizzying impulse, I stood on my toes and kissed him. And just like that, the world went silent. 1 I was having dinner with Richard Murray, the man I was supposed to marry. My interest was lukewarm at best; his politeness was impeccable. Richard was the optimal solution, the result of a cold, hard cost-benefit analysis. Marrying him would satisfy my parents, which meant the family fortune wouldn’t fall into the hands of my good-for-nothing older brother, Tyler. Sometimes, the unfairness of it all was suffocating. Just because he was born with the right equipment, why did everything I worked for count for less than his mere existence? It was infuriating. I threw back a few glasses of whiskey, the burn a welcome distraction. My phone lit up. A message from my nemesis, Leo Rowling. [Well, well. Enjoying dinner?] Attached was a photo of Richard and me, right at this very table. Another one of his spies, no doubt, lurking in some shadowy corner. I fired back without hesitation. [You’re hilarious. Should I be eating scraps like you instead? And next time you have me stalked, tell your guy to use a beauty filter.] Leo: [That was taken out in the open. You’re in my restaurant. Who’s the guy across from you?] Oh, right. I’d forgotten. Leo had bought this place last week, right after snatching that massive contract that should have been mine. I replied: [My new boyfriend. We’re getting engaged next week.] A flood of over a dozen messages poured in, as if I’d stomped on a dog’s tail. [What new boyfriend? My mom said your mom was just setting you up on dates last week.] [Don’t you hate blind dates?] [Engaged?] [To that beanpole sitting across from you?] [Are you just trying to mess with me?] [For real?] Then, as if talking to himself, he concluded: [Impossible.] [You hate men.] I drained another glass, the frustration boiling inside me. I typed back: [I hate you. I hate dogs.] Heh. He doesn’t believe me? My fingers flew across the screen. [Who sent you that picture? Tell him to wipe his lens and watch closely. I’ll give him a real show.] 2 Of course, I was just trying to piss Leo off. There was no way I was actually going to kiss Richard. He sat across from me, as elegant as a prince, radiating an almost ethereal sense of detachment. We’d only known each other for a week, but he was, without a doubt, the most handsome of all the candidates my parents had paraded before me. When I’d presented him with my absurd proposal—”engaged next week, married next month”—he had simply smiled and said, “Whatever makes you happy.” I couldn’t bring myself to assault a genuinely nice guy. But when I get agitated, my drinking knows no bounds. Richard politely warned me a few times about the toll it would take, but I just waved him off. He really was the perfect gentleman. Even on a date, his posture was ramrod straight. He cut his steak without making a sound. And me? Half a bottle of whiskey down, I was slumped in my chair like a rag doll. Considering all that, I was lucky Richard wasn’t completely repulsed by me. With his family’s standing, he could have his pick of high-society debutantes. What was I? If I had to pick one redeeming quality, it was that I was a straightforward drinker who didn’t play games. With that thought, I went to pour another glass. My hand trembled, spilling some of the amber liquid on the table. “Vivian, you’ve had enough. It’s not good for you,” Richard said softly, his hand gently covering mine. I just shook my head with a weak smile, ready to down it anyway, when the bottle was snatched from my grasp. I looked up. Leo was standing there, panting, his chest heaving. “That’s not how you stop her! You’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffed at Richard. “Watch and learn.” With that, he tilted his head back and chugged the remaining half of the bottle. Before I could even react, he plucked the glass from my hand and drained that too. Excuse me? Was stealing my business deals not enough? Now he had to come all the way here to steal my alcohol? “Leo Rowling, I’m going to kill you!” I lunged at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt. Richard quickly stood up to restrain me. “Vivian, calm down.” Leo let me claw at him, sneering at Richard. “Who gave you the right to call her Vivian?” Then his gaze snapped back to me. “You’ve known him a week and you let him call you that?” “It’s none of your damn business!” I shot back. “Tomorrow I’ll be calling him ‘honey’!” A faint blush crept up Richard’s cheeks. Leo’s face darkened into a thundercloud. He grabbed my arm. “You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Richard took my other arm. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Rowling. I’ll see Vivian home.” Both of them, wanting to take me home. Did neither of them realize that home was the last place on earth I wanted to be right now? I drunkenly pointed a finger at Leo. “Your family owns hotels, right? Get me a room. The most expensive one you have!” Then I swung around to face Richard. “Let’s go. We’re getting a room!” 3 Somehow, I ended up being hauled into a car by Leo. Richard was driving. He was the only one of the three of us who hadn’t been drinking. The moment I was in the car, I passed out. When I woke up again, the first thing I saw was the face of the person I despised most in the world. “Here. Hangover cure.” Leo held a bowl out to me. “Honey, apple, and pear. I had the chef make it specially.” I turned my head away. “I don’t want it! I, Vivian Lin, do not accept charity!” It was only then that I realized I was, in fact, in the presidential suite of one of Leo’s hotels. The living room was big enough to host a track meet. My head was pounding, the alcohol making my vision swim. Everything seemed to have a double. “Why are you still here? I’ll have my fiancé wire you the money for the room. Hey, where is he anyway?” Leo suddenly leaned in close, pinching my cheeks together and forcing the bowl to my lips. “Just drink it. You’ll thank me tomorrow when your head isn’t splitting open,” he muttered. “And stop talking. I haven’t liked a single thing you’ve said tonight.” I choked, sputtering, and swatted the bowl away, sending its contents splashing all over his shirt. “Get away from me!” Alcohol has a way of turning up the volume on emotions, and a wave of raw misery washed over me. This was supposed to be Leo’s moment of triumph, wasn’t it? Last week, he’d swooped in and snatched a major government contract right out from under me. Because of that, I was now fighting a war on two fronts. My father, convinced that a woman could never truly run the company, was demanding I hand over my executive powers to my brother, Tyler—that useless parasite who knew nothing but partying. If I wanted to stay at Lin Corp, my only option was to play nice and secure a strategic marriage. I couldn’t let years of my hard work go up in smoke. So yes, I was willing to gamble my own marriage to win this fight. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. And the source of all my misfortune was standing right in front of me. My words came out in a drunken slur. “I hate you! You’re the person I hate most in this entire world! You sabotage me, you steal my clients, and you love watching me fail! Are you satisfied now? I’m about to get engaged to a man I’ve known for a week. Are you happy?” I grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and hurled it at him. “Get out! Just get out!” Having spent the last of my energy, my body gave out. I collapsed onto the sofa and fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep. Well, not entirely dreamless. I’m pretty sure I murdered Leo Rowling at least eight hundred times. 4 From a distance, I could hear the faint sound of running water. I rubbed my temples, trying to clear the fog from my head. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep, but I felt a little more clear-headed. Someone had draped a blanket over me. I pushed it off and stood up, but before I could take two steps, I collided with Leo as he walked out of the bathroom. He was bare-chested, a single white towel slung low on his hips. Seeing my shocked expression, a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. “You’re awake.” My eyes widened. “Were you taking a shower in here?!” He shrugged, completely unfazed. “I paid for the room. Why can’t I shower in it?” As infuriating as always. “I told you I’d pay you back!” “Do I look like I need the money?” I was speechless. There was no one on this planet more insufferable than him. “You’re a pervert!” I seethed. He tilted his head, shaking a drop of water from his ear as if he hadn’t heard me. “No good deed goes unpunished. I try to give you a hangover cure, you dump it all over me. I had to wash it off before I could leave.” I had no memory of that. I just rolled my eyes at him. “What hangover cure? Where’s Richard?” Leo let out a sharp “tsk” and began to close the distance between us. “You wake up and the first person you ask for is him? You really care about him, huh?” I stumbled backward as he advanced, my heart starting to pound for no reason at all. The sudden proximity was unnerving. Luckily, my mouth was as stubborn as ever. “Of course! Should I be asking about you instead?” He continued his slow, predatory approach until my back hit the wall. I was trapped. “I never knew you were into beanpoles,” he murmured, his voice low. “Why are you blushing?” 5 I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away from the chiseled torso that was mere inches from my face. “I am not!” I retorted, my voice betraying my confidence. A low chuckle rumbled in Leo’s chest. He reached out and pinched my cheek. “You totally are. Raise your standards a little, Viv. You should find someone who actually fits your tastes. Or is that the problem? You can’t find anyone?” He clicked his tongue. “Then again, I guess a bookworm like him is all you can get.” I shut my eyes, silently chanting a mantra. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. This is just a trick from the enemy. He’s using his ridiculously good body to mess with me. Beneath those eight-pack abs lies a heart full of pure evil. Leo leaned in, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of my head. “Cat got your tongue? Did I hit a nerve? Don’t go crying into your pillow later.” The alcohol still swirling in my system made my head feel like it was floating. He was so close I could smell the fresh, clean scent of his body wash. And he just wouldn’t stop talking. God, it was so annoying. “You bastard…” I muttered under my breath. His voice was a deep vibration right above me. “Such a filthy mouth. I can’t imagine who would ever marry you.” He kept murmuring something, but the words were a jumbled mess in my buzzing brain. But his body… Damn it, his body was undeniably perfect. How could someone so infuriating be blessed with a face—and a body—like that? The universe had made a grave mistake. Leo was still talking, his lips moving, forming words I couldn’t process. They were… surprisingly sensual. If only he were a mute. That thought was the final spark. My brain short-circuited. I surged up on my toes, grabbed his face with both hands, and smashed my lips against his. It was the quickest way I could think of to finally shut him up. 6 Just as things were getting heated, Leo pulled me off him. “Vivian,” he said, his voice strained. “Do you know who I am?” Being interrupted at a moment like this was beyond frustrating. Who in their right mind stops to talk? “You talk too much…” I grumbled. He watched me intently, a nervous energy about him. “You don’t think I’m Richard, do you?” “Do I look blind to you? You’re Leo Rowling.” The mood was instantly shattered. I gave him a shove. “Never mind. If you’re not into it, then get off.” The next thing I knew, I was being pulled into a powerful embrace. In a fluid motion, our positions were reversed. He was now pinning me, his eyes glowing with the intensity of a predator in the night. Just when I expected another barrage of insults, his lips crashed down on mine. … I think I might have gone to war in my dreams. When I woke up, every single muscle in my body ached. As I shifted, I realized I was being held in someone’s arms. I turned my head in a panic and came face-to-face with a man whose features were as handsome as they were infuriating. Then it all came flooding back. I remembered how I had silenced him, and how he, in turn, had made sure I couldn’t get out of bed. If I wasn’t so afraid of waking him, I would have slapped myself silly. Damn my weakness for attractive men. If I was going to have a one-night stand, couldn’t I have picked someone—anyone—else? But now wasn’t the time for self-flagellation. What was done was done. The immediate priority was to execute Operation: Great Escape. I stealthily gathered my clothes from the floor and, after a frantic search, located my purse in the living room. There was no time to find my shoes. I slipped on a pair of hotel slippers and bolted. 7 I had an appointment with Richard today to pick out our engagement outfits. Thankfully, the night of debauchery hadn’t ruined my sleep. I woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, without a hint of a hangover. After a quick shower and a change of clothes at home, I headed out to meet him. I was trying on the second wedding dress when Leo’s call came through. Normally, I would have ignored it, but today, a tiny bit of guilt gnawed at me. I slipped outside the shop to answer. The fury on the other end of the line was practically melting my phone. “Vivian Lin, what the hell is the meaning of the two hundred dollars on the nightstand?!” I held the phone a little farther from my ear and forced a laugh. “Hey, don’t take it the wrong way. I just thought you… put in a lot of effort last night. It’s for, you know, nutritional expenses. It was all the cash I had on me. I’m not really sure what the going rate is, so if it’s not enough, I can wire you the rest.” Before leaving, I had emptied my wallet onto the nightstand. I’d hoped he would appreciate the gesture of my sincere apology. Clearly, he did not. Then again, for a face and body like that, maybe I had lowballed him. There was a moment of stunned silence on his end, followed by a voice seething with rage. “Are… you… treating me… like a gigolo?!” I glanced nervously back into the shop. Richard was still patiently browsing the racks, oblivious. I lowered my voice. “Those are your words, not mine.” Leo must have noticed my hushed tone. “Where are you right now?” he demanded. “Oh, I’m trying on wedding dresses,” I blurted out without thinking. The line went dead quiet. For a second, I thought the call had dropped. Then, Leo’s voice came back, low and menacing. “Send me your location. Now.” A shiver went down my spine. But then his tone softened slightly. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just wanted to return the shoes you left behind.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Oh. Well, that’s thoughtful of you. Thanks.” Fifteen minutes after I hung up, a sports car screeched to a halt in front of the bridal shop. The sound was impossible to ignore. I gave Richard an apologetic smile and hurried outside. Leo looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. His face was so dark he could have been mining coal. “Wow, that was fast. Did you fly here?” My awkward attempt at a joke fell flat. He just glared at me, his expression stony, as if I owed him a fortune. I wasn’t in the mood to coddle the big baby. I held out my hand. “So, the shoes? Give them to me so you can get going.” He glanced down at my outstretched hand, then back up at me, his eyes cold. “You sleep with me one night and you’re trying on wedding dresses the next. You’ve got some nerve, Vivian.” “It’s for the engagement party,” I corrected, then immediately regretted it. Why was I even explaining myself? What happened last night was a drunken mistake. That’s an understanding all adults should have, right? I pressed on. “The shoes?” “Is there anything else you want to say to me?” “Uh… thanks for last night?” That seemed to be the last straw. “Vivian!” he roared. I desperately wanted to clamp a hand over his mouth. I shot a panicked look back at the shop and saw Richard walking toward us. My heart leaped into my throat. I yanked Leo’s arm. “Keep your voice down! Are you trying to advertise this?” 8 Richard reached my side and calmly extended a hand to Leo. “Mr. Rowling, thank you for arranging the room for Vivian last night. If you don’t mind, I’d like to add you as a contact so I can reimburse you for the expense.” The ice on Leo’s face seemed to thicken. “Not convenient,” he grunted. I was mortified, my eyes darting between them. Leo was a loose cannon. If he decided to spill the beans right here, right now, I was completely screwed. Sure enough, Leo opened his mouth, a malicious glint in his eye. “Oh, the trouble she caused me last night involved more than just booking a room…” “Ah!” I shrieked, cutting him off. “Leo is my best friend! My gay best friend!” Both men stared at me, dumbfounded. I pressed on, digging my hole deeper. “He’s just here to help me pick a dress! You know, a gay man’s eye for fashion is… sharper.” Leo was frozen in place, utterly stunned by my declaration. It was Richard who recovered first, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “Is that so? Well then, please, come inside and help us choose. Vivian’s friend Chloe couldn’t make it today, so your input would be greatly appreciated, Mr. Rowling.”

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I sent a selfie to my boyfriend. “Am I pretty? Can you post a picture of me on your story?” He never replied. But five minutes later, his best friend posted my picture to his own Instagram story with the caption: “Goddamn beautiful.” 1 Jax is my boyfriend Caleb’s best friend, and we share a lot of mutual friends. So, the long string of question marks in the comments section was my first clue. This wasn’t some private joke meant only for me to see. It was public. … I don’t know Jax very well. Most of what I know comes from Caleb or other classmates. He’s from a wealthy family, incredibly smart, and that combination has given him the confidence to be arrogant, impulsive, and to do whatever he wants. But that doesn’t mean I have to tolerate this kind of nonsense. As Caleb’s girlfriend, I’ve always maintained a polite but distant relationship with his friends. I was sure I’d never done anything to offend Jax. So why was he publicly humiliating me like this? And how did he get a photo that I sent privately to Caleb? A storm of questions brewed inside me as my trembling fingers opened my chat with Jax and hit the call button. No answer. I frowned, and just as I was putting my phone down, a call from my best friend, Christina, burst onto the screen. “Ava! You need to get to The Brew & Bookmark on campus, now! Caleb and Jax are fighting! It’s brutal! Hurry!” 2 When I got to the cafe, classes were in session, but a massive crowd was still gathered outside, packed three deep. The moment they saw me, the buzz of conversation died down. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, creating a path for me as all eyes followed my every move. I ignored their strange looks and pushed my way into the cafe. Inside, the elegant space was a disaster zone of overturned tables and chairs. It was obvious a violent brawl had just taken place. The two responsible for the chaos, Caleb and Jax, had matching bruises and cuts, but both appeared unnervingly calm. In fact, amidst the wreckage, they were both methodically straightening their clothes. It was hard to say who had won the fight. Judging by his more severe injuries, Caleb had lost. But he had a delicate-looking girl by his side, which felt like a win of its own. She was wearing a white dress, and tears streamed from her wide, innocent eyes like broken strings of pearls. She was carefully dabbing at the blood on Caleb’s face with a tissue. Of course, I recognized her. She was Lily, the star of our university’s dance department. And Caleb’s childhood friend. The first time I became aware of her was when I saw that Caleb had a single red heart emoji as her contact name. When I asked him about it, he explained that her last name was Hart, and that all her friends saved her contact that way as an inside joke. He said it wasn’t a big deal, just a small thing to make his friend happy. I’d chosen to believe him, though not without a sliver of doubt. Now, seeing her crouched so intimately beside him, weeping, I knew my trust had been misplaced. … Lily’s animosity towards me was palpable. Her eyes were practically dripping venom as she ran up to me, jabbing a finger in my face and launching into a tirade from her self-appointed moral high ground. “Ava, how can you even show your face here? You have Caleb, so why can’t you just appreciate him? Does it make you feel special, playing with two men at once? Does it excite you? Jax and Caleb are best friends!” Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but the words spilling from her pretty mouth were sharp enough to cut. Her voice was so shrill it made my ears ring. I rubbed my ear and calmly pushed her hand away from my face. “Did no one ever teach you any manners?” “You think you’re so high and mighty? A woman who messes around with her boyfriend’s best friend has no right to talk about manners.” Her anger escalated, and she raised her other hand to slap me. I narrowed my eyes, catching her wrist in a firm grip and flinging it away. What was this, some kind of drama? The fragile damsel bravely defending her man against the two-timing villainess? “Are you a dancer or a chef? Because you seem to have a real talent for stirring up drama,” I said, my voice dripping with scorn. I’d pushed her harder than I intended, and she stumbled back, her eyes welling up with fresh tears. “Caleb, did you see that? She…” I rolled my eyes. From the sidelines, Jax, who had been calmly fixing his collar, let out an ill-timed, soft chuckle. My head snapped in his direction. He had already composed himself, back to his usual suave, almost villainous charm. He walked over slowly, his presence like a physical weight, and stood behind me like a mountain. Jax’s voice was lazy, but when he looked at Caleb, it was laced with steel. “Caleb, are you just going to let your girl run wild like this?” Lily, ever the opportunist, softened her tone considerably when she turned to Jax. “Jax, what has this woman done to you? Why are you still defending her? You and Caleb have been friends for years. Is that worth less than some girl? I always thought you were different from her, that you were at least reasonable!” She was a master at the art of putting one person down to lift another up. Unfortunately for her, she’d picked the wrong target. Jax took a deliberate step back, a look of disgust on his face, as if he were afraid of being hit by her spittle. The move made Lily flush with embarrassment and awkwardly wipe her mouth. He was completely unmoved by her attempt at moral blackmail. “Don’t try that with me. Every dog in a five-mile radius of my house knows I don’t play by the rules. You’re wasting your breath talking about being ‘reasonable.’ “This mess is on us. Ava didn’t do anything. If we’re talking about who’s in the right here, it’s her. And let’s be real. You get to run crying to Caleb, so why can’t I be here to back Ava up? Let me make it crystal clear: whether or not I’m ‘reasonable’ with you depends entirely on her. Today, my only job is to be on her side, whether she’s being reasonable or not. Got it?” He spoke quickly, but his logic was sharp and his tone was absolute, leaving no room for argument. Caleb looked over, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I guessed he had no idea when Jax and I had become so close. To be honest, neither did I. In my confusion, a strange warmth spread through me. After my parents died, I lived with my uncle, and I was forced to grow up faster than other kids my age. I was used to facing things alone. But to have someone so unapologetically in my corner… Even though I didn’t know why, my heart trembled. … Without a word, Caleb stood up, grabbed Lily’s slender wrist, and pulled her behind him, completely ignoring my presence. His actions were a silent confirmation that Lily was, indeed, “his girl.” He rubbed his temples, his voice weary. “Lily, stop it. Ava isn’t the kind of person you’re making her out to be.” One was an intimate “Lily,” the other was a formal “Ava.” In a single sentence, Caleb had drawn a clear line between us. Suddenly, my earlier concern that Jax’s actions might embarrass him felt foolish. Through the glass window, I could see the crowd of students still watching, some even taking pictures with their phones. I didn’t have to guess what would happen next. Soon, the story of how Caleb, the star of the law school, protected his childhood sweetheart in front of his girlfriend would be all over the campus social media pages. Had he even considered my feelings at all? 3 I took two deep breaths, trying to keep my composure as I walked over to Caleb. He sat in a chair, his back perfectly straight, still projecting that image of cool detachment. He wouldn’t look at me. But I needed an explanation. “Caleb, the Instagram story, and what I just saw… do you have anything to say to me?” A ten-second silence stretched between us. “What you saw is what you saw,” he finally said. “I have nothing to explain.” His tone was completely dismissive. The subtext was clear: Take it or leave it. If you can handle it, we can stay together. If not, get lost. So much for the idea that a girl’s pursuit is always successful. The truth is, in any relationship, if the girl is the one who initiates everything, it’s bound to end in disaster. My chest heaved with a breath I couldn’t control. “Nothing to explain?” The words caught in my throat, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Then let’s break up.” “Fine. Whatever you want.” His voice was devoid of any emotion. It reminded me of the day I confessed my feelings to him. I had rehearsed what I was going to say for three days straight, and I was so nervous I could barely speak. In the end, all I got was a lukewarm, “Okay, let’s give it a try.” I stared at the top of his head for three long seconds. Then, I turned and walked away. 4 As I stepped out of the cafe, a breeze seemed to follow me, drying the unshed tears at the corners of my eyes. Jax jogged up to my side, a playful smile on his face. He tugged on the corner of my sleeve as if we were old friends. “Hey, let’s walk together.” I was certain he knew exactly how handsome he was and was deliberately flaunting it. Like right now. He had meticulously straightened his clothes, but he’d left the smear of dried blood at the corner of his mouth untouched. Paired with the slight redness around his eyes, it gave him a rugged, “beautifully broken” kind of look. My feelings toward the instigator of this whole mess were complicated. I wasn’t an idiot. The moment I walked in and saw Lily at Caleb’s side, I understood. Caleb was too busy with his “friend” to reply to my message, and Jax, seeing this, decided to give me a heads-up in his own chaotic way. His methods were bizarre, but his intentions seemed to be good. It was a rare thing to find someone with a conscience in Caleb’s circle. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Nowhere. Just walking for a bit?” “Okay.” His smile widened, and he fell into step behind me, looking pleased with himself. … Walking away from that disaster scene with the notoriously popular Jax Sterling at my side meant we were turning heads everywhere we went. The stares were starting to annoy me, but they also reminded me of something. “By the way, you should delete that story.” “Can I not?” “You can, but then I’ll have to slap you.” Faced with my unwavering resolve, he reluctantly pulled out his phone and deleted the post. He was nearly six-foot-three, but with his slumped shoulders and pout, he looked like a dejected puppy. It reminded me of my grandmother’s big golden retriever, chained to the gate and whining because he couldn’t get to the table scraps. He’s like a big dog, the strange thought flitted through my mind before I pushed it away. When we reached the campus gate, I turned to him. “Well, I’m heading home. Thanks for everything today, really.” It was a polite, almost perfunctory thank you, but his convoluted mind managed to turn it into something more. “Why are you thanking me? It was my duty.” 5 It took just over an hour. Screenshots of Jax’s story, videos of the fight in the cafe, and photos of Caleb shielding Lily in front of me flooded the campus forums. The threads exploded with comments. Headlines like “The Ultimate Love Quadrangle: A Saga of Unrequited Love” were popping up everywhere. It was absurd. So, the first thing my gossip-loving best friend, Christina, said when she got back to our apartment was: “Ava, have you seen the forums? Those people are ruthless. The paparazzi could learn a thing or two from them.” I scoffed, turning my attention back to my listening comprehension exercises. “A bunch of psychos.” Just before I put my headphones back on, I saw Christina give me a thumbs-up, her voice filled with genuine admiration. “I was totally prepared to skip my 8 a.m. class tomorrow to take you out for a night of drunken debauchery, or to help you hunt down that cheating bastard and his side piece. But here you are, studying like nothing even happened… Ava, you’re a true career-driven queen. Seriously impressive.” She paused. “But, girl, you’re acting way too calm. Is it possible that you never really liked Caleb in the first place?” My pen froze. … Caleb was my first love. It was love at first sight, or something close to it. I met him during my freshman orientation week when I injured myself and had to go to the campus health center. The nurse on duty was clearly jaded from seeing countless minor injuries. She was rough with the antiseptic and her tone was sharp. When she was cleaning my wound, I flinched from the pain, and she immediately launched into a lecture. “I’m trying to treat you, what are you pulling away for? You girls are all the same, spoiled by your parents before you get to college. You’re too delicate. Let me tell you, no one’s going to coddle you here!” She had no way of knowing. My parents died when I was very young. There were no parents to coddle me. I was simply afraid of pain. Losing your parents shouldn’t mean you lose the right to feel pain, should it? Being scolded like that on my third day in a new city, thinking about my mom and dad… a wave of misery washed over me. But my past was a wound I never showed to anyone. This time was no different. I bit my lip, turned my head away, and swallowed the tears and the pain. That’s when I saw him. Caleb was standing nearby, a volunteer for the week. He wore a simple white t-shirt and had an air of quiet confidence about him. He looked at me with calm, indifferent eyes. Then he walked over. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said to the nurse. “Her cut does look pretty deep. If you could, maybe be a little more gentle.” He paused. “It’s not easy for anyone, leaving home for the first time.” At the time, Caleb was only a year older than me, but he had a maturity that was rare in our peers. He spoke calmly and considerately, never sounding accusatory, and his words had a way of making you listen. The nurse actually blushed a little. As I felt her touch become gentler, I looked up at Caleb, grateful. The fluorescent lights of the clinic softened the sharp, handsome lines of his face. He offered me a small, polite smile. In that moment, a strange feeling filled my chest. I think that’s when I fell for him. … That night, before we went to sleep, Christina and I had our usual late-night chat. She grilled me about Jax, then sighed. “Caleb seemed like such a great guy. How did he change so fast?” I thought for a moment, then laughed softly. “He didn’t. I did.” 6 The next morning was our 8 a.m. elective, a uniquely popular course at our university: “The Theory and Practice of Modern Relationships.” I only got into the class thanks to Christina’s lightning-fast reflexes and kind heart. When I arrived, right on time, the large lecture hall was already packed. The class was so popular that many students audited it, and latecomers usually ended up sitting on the steps. Resigned to my fate, I was about to find a spot on the floor when I saw a hand wave lazily at me from the back row. It was Jax. My eyes lit up, and without a moment’s hesitation, I made my way towards him. Only a fool would turn down an open seat just to avoid rumors. I had barely sat down and dropped my bag when the professor called his name. “Jax Sterling.” “Here.” The professor looked surprised. “Well, this is a rare sight. What brings you to class today, Mr. Sterling? Didn’t you say you could ace this course without ever showing up?” Jax was handsome, smart, and well-liked on campus. Even the professors had a soft spot for him. He chuckled, a lazy, carefree sound, and shot back without missing a beat, “I missed you, professor.” The professor laughed, her eyes scanning the room. “I think you missed one of the pretty girls in this class more than you missed me.” The entire class erupted in a wave of whoops and whistles, and all heads turned towards the back row. Naturally, all eyes landed on me as well. I ignored their curious stares and calmly took out my vocabulary notebook. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him flash a devil-may-care smile. “Yeah, I did. That’s why I’m here. We’re aiming for a perfect score on the final project together.” 7 I could pretend I didn’t hear his flirty comments. But I couldn’t ignore the way he spent the entire class with his head propped on his hand, his bright eyes fixed on me. Halfway through the lecture, I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped my notebook shut and hissed, “Have you seen enough?” “Nope. I could look at you all day.” I was speechless. “So, what’s your deal? The Instagram story, saving me a seat… Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me, or what?” “What do you mean, ‘or what’?” he said, finishing the thought I’d left hanging. “Of course, I’m trying to win you over.” He held up a notebook to shield us from the professor’s view and leaned closer, his eyes wide and earnest. “I thought I was being pretty obvious. Was it that hard to guess?” I subtly scooted away. “I just broke up with your best friend yesterday. Don’t you think it’s a little twisted for you to be hitting on me today?” “Is it? I thought your ‘single’ status was effective immediately. The fact that I waited a whole day to tell you how I feel shows incredible self-restraint, don’t you think?”

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We’d agreed to finally swap photos. So when my online boyfriend sent me a picture from a magazine interview with the billionaire tycoon Alexander Sterling, I had to laugh. I shot back a professionally shot photo of a famous actress. [Dumbass, if you’re going to use a fake pic, at least pick someone less famous.] Then, I blocked and deleted him without a second thought. That night, the tycoon himself posted on his official social media account, launching a nationwide search. [My girlfriend blocked me. Can anyone help me explain?] The attached screenshot was of my final message, followed by a string of red exclamation points where his replies had failed to send. My world tilted on its axis. 1 After breakfast, I sat by the window and did my makeup, waiting for the perfect light. Today was the day. The day my online boyfriend and I had agreed to finally see each other. [Babe, you ready?] his message popped up. I quickly typed back: [I’m a little nervous, babe.] We clicked on every level. We could talk for hours about anything and everything. But there was one thing I hadn’t told him: I was a celebrity. A somewhat infamous one, but still, I was moderately successful. I was worried he wouldn’t believe me, so my plan was to video call him after the photo swap. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction. He replied almost instantly. [I’m nervous too. I’m scared you’ll think I’m ugly.] [Babe, I tried my best to pick the most flattering picture I have.] [You won’t hate me, will you, babe?] He’d expressed his insecurities to me more than once. But after years in the entertainment industry, I’d met every type of person imaginable. Looks really didn’t matter to me. [Of course not. As long as you don’t send me a fake photo, I’ll like you no matter what you look like.] [Good. Kisses, babe QAQ.] [Kisses.] He was clingy, and I found it endearing. He went quiet for a few minutes, probably building up his courage. Then, a photo appeared. A man in a sharp suit, surrounded by a sea of microphones, his gaze piercing and his presence commanding. I recognized him instantly. It was Alexander Sterling, the notoriously private billionaire tycoon. His interviews were rare, but his looks were so legendary that every single one produced a viral photo. This was his most famous one. A new message followed. [Babe, this is me. What do you think?] [nervouslyfidgeting.jpg] I stared at the screen, stunned. I’d always thought my online boyfriend was smart, principled, and refreshingly down-to-earth. We connected on a level I’d never experienced before. But what the hell was this? Was he trying to tell me that the billionaire Alexander Sterling was spending his nights chatting with strangers online? Was I dreaming, or was he? And I had explicitly told him not to send a fake photo! Did I really seem that naive? That easy to fool? If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being lied to. A hot flash of anger surged through me. I found an obscure promotional photo of myself from a few years back and fired it off to him. [Dumbass, if you’re going to use a fake pic, at least pick someone less famous.] Before he could reply, I blocked him. 2 We had met playing a video game. I went into the game and unfriended him, deleting the character with whom I had a maxed-out “Intimacy” score. Now there was no way for him to contact me. I tossed my phone aside, wiped off the makeup I’d spent all morning applying, and curled up on the sofa to stew in my anger. All those pictures he’d sent me before—the abs, the V-cut—they were probably all stolen from the internet too. And to think I’d genuinely admired and complimented his physique! Fucking liar! Fuming, I buried my face in a cushion and fell into a fitful sleep. That evening, a call from my agent woke me. Her voice was strange. “Ava, have you seen what’s trending?” “What is it?” I mumbled, forcing my eyes open and tapping into my social media app. A hashtag was exploding. #EvenBillionairesGetCatfished A jolt of alarm shot through me, waking me up completely. This couldn’t be what I thought it was, could it? I cautiously clicked on the tag. Alexander Sterling, who hadn’t posted on his personal account in years, had just published a new status. [My girlfriend blocked me. Can anyone help me explain?] The attached screenshot looked disturbingly familiar. It was the last conversation I’d had with my online boyfriend. But his version had a series of red exclamation points next to messages that never went through. [Huh?] [It’s not a fake pic, babe. That’s really me.] [Babe?] [Why did you delete me? Can you at least let me explain?] [Babe… #crying#] The internet was losing its mind. [What? The Alexander Sterling is dating someone he met online?] [Who is this girl?? Did she save a galaxy in a past life to land Alexander Sterling in a random chat?] [But she thought he was fake, LMAO. I’m dying.] [Honestly, that’s fair. If it were me, I’d assume it was a troll too, hahaha.] [So he’s basically asking the internet to help find her? Does anyone know who this girl is?] [If you know her, please say something! The man is so desperate he’s posting on his public socials!] … I scrolled through the comments, my eyes wide with disbelief. So, my online boyfriend… wasn’t a liar? He really was Alexander Sterling. As I was reeling from the shock, a new hashtag started trending. #TheBillionaireAndTheStarlet My heart leaped into my throat. No, they couldn’t have found me that fast, could they? I nervously tapped on it. It led to a new post from Isabelle Thorne, one of the most popular young actresses right now. [No need for anyone to explain, it was all just a misunderstanding~] The implication was so strong, she might as well have quote-tweeted Alexander’s post directly. The internet went wild. [The power of the internet! Found her in minutes!] [So his online girlfriend is Isabelle Thorne?! OMG! A starlet and a tycoon, this is the most epic online romance ever!] [Isabelle is so cute. Even as a celebrity herself, she didn’t believe a tycoon would be dating someone online, hahaha.] [OMG, they’re a perfect match. Isabelle is about to marry into one of the most powerful families in the country!] 3 My agent’s voice crackled through the phone again. “See it now? I was about to get you a spot on that new cooking show to boost your public image, but now with this news about Isabelle and the tycoon, all the buzz is going to be about her. This could ruin you!” I paused. My cooking skills were one of my few universally liked traits, and we had specifically chosen a laid-back, lifestyle cooking show to try and salvage my disastrous public reputation. The show was set to start filming tomorrow. Now, with all the attention on Isabelle, I was just going to be the bitter, washed-up side character again. I gritted my teeth. “What if… what if I’m the one he was dating?” I had used a private, anonymous account for my online life, completely separate from my professional one. Not even my agent knew. I explained the whole story to her. She was stunned. “Isabelle would dare to impersonate her? Is she insane?” Everyone knew Alexander Sterling wasn’t just ruthless; he was vindictive. Nobody crossed him, and nobody lied to him. Even I, knowing I was the real girl, was too scared to come forward and admit it. Not only had I blocked him, I had called him a dumbass. My agent and I stayed up all night, brainstorming, but we couldn’t come up with a single foolproof plan. The next morning, running on fumes and a hastily applied layer of makeup, I was shoved into a car and sent to the studio. When I arrived, a small crowd had already formed around Isabelle. “Isabelle! What’s it like to date a tycoon you met online?” “You’re a master at this!” “What’s he like in private?” “So, now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, have you unblocked him yet?” The barrage of questions made Isabelle blush. She covered her mouth with her hand. “He hasn’t found me on his own yet, so the block list… I think he’ll stay there for now.” It was an answer no one expected. “What? You haven’t unblocked him yet?!” “You might be the only person in the world who would dare to do that to Alexander Sterling!” “I can’t even imagine how much he must spoil you!” … Isabelle just smiled demurely. “Oh, stop it, you guys.” Everyone was swooning. Only I was frowning. He’s still on the block list because he’s on my block list, you idiot. My expression was immediately captured by the cameras and dissected by the online audience. [What is Ava doing? What’s with that look on her face?] [She’s probably just insanely jealous that Isabelle is dating the tycoon. She can’t even hide it!] [LOL, some people just don’t have Isabelle’s luck.] [Why did they even cast her on this show? To watch her scowl the whole time?] … Isabelle saw me and approached with a bright smile. “Ava, you’re finally here! The host said they have a huge surprise for us as soon as everyone arrived. We were just waiting for you.” I glanced at the time. Filming was scheduled to start at 8:30. It was just past 8:00. Because of the whole Alexander situation, I’d only gotten to sleep at 5 a.m. I wasn’t early, but I wasn’t late either. But the online audience had already made up their minds. [So Ava still hasn’t kicked her habit of acting like a diva?] [The entire cast and crew waiting for her. The nerve!] [Only our sweet Isabelle would still be able to smile at her after all that waiting!] [Ugh, get Ava off this show. She’s so annoying.] 4 I desperately wanted to roll my eyes at her. But I restrained myself. “What’s the big surprise?” I asked the host. The host gave me a mysterious smile. The large screen behind him flickered to life, displaying a screenshot of a social media post. It was from Alexander Sterling, posted just three minutes ago. Seven simple words: [Going where you are.] The accompanying image was the logo for our show. The host announced, “That’s right! Our show is honored to welcome a very special guest—the CEO of Sterling Industries, Mr. Alexander Sterling himself!” The internet exploded. [Going where you are? He’s chasing his girlfriend all the way to a reality show set!] [Remember what Isabelle just said? That he hadn’t found her yet, so she was keeping him blocked? And now he’s literally showing up on her show to win her back! This is SO romantic!] [This is a man who schedules his interviews months in advance, and he’s just dropping everything to be on a reality show. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is!] [I can’t even imagine how sweet it’s going to be when he actually gets here!] [Can I please have Isabelle’s life in my next reincarnation?] Isabelle’s reaction was a masterclass in feigned surprise. Her eyes widened, her hand flew to her mouth, and she lowered her head in a display of shy disbelief. Someone immediately teased her. “Isabelle, the man is chasing you all the way here. I think it’s time to unblock him, don’t you?” She covered her face, embarrassed. “Oh, stop! We’ll see how he behaves when he gets here~” This, of course, led to another round of excited squeals from the cast. I was utterly baffled. Did Alexander really believe Isabelle was the one? So much so that he was willing to come on a reality show for her? I couldn’t help but remember my online chats with him. Whenever he made me mad, he would wire me money. If I ignored him, he’d send me pictures of his abs. If I kept ignoring him, the waistband of his sweatpants would get progressively lower in each photo. He was definitely a charmer. But he was charming me. How had he become this puppet that Isabelle could so easily manipulate? I couldn’t stop myself. I looked directly at Isabelle. “And if he behaves, are you sure you’ll be able to unblock him?” Isabelle froze for a second, then quickly nodded. “Of course.” Another cast member, confused, turned to me. “Ava, why would you ask that?” I didn’t answer right away. If I said, Because I’m the one he was dating, would I be torn to shreds? The online audience was already starting. [What is wrong with Ava? Why would she say something so weird?] [Her jealousy is literally pouring out of the screen. She’s probably never experienced a man being that devoted to her.] [Seriously, what is there to question? Alexander is coming on the show for Isabelle!] [She’s so rude. But don’t worry, everyone. As soon as Mr. Sterling gets here, he’ll put her in her place! He’ll get her kicked off the show!] Isabelle, seeing my hesitation, seemed to regain her confidence. She straightened her back and frowned at me. “Yes, what do you mean by that? If I can’t, are you saying you can?” Her tone was challenging, her eyes glinting with defiance. “Ava, are you…” She left the sentence hanging, but the insinuation was clear. Are you jealous? Are you envious? Are you just trying to stir up trouble? Everyone turned to stare at me. The pressure was mounting, and my patience finally snapped. “Yeah, I can,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “He’s on my block list right now. Want to see?”

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My fiancé’s adopted sister has a talent for pushing me to my breaking point. I like my water ice-cold. She once swapped it for boiling water, leaving my mouth a landscape of swollen blisters. I was rushing to a crucial meeting. She slashed my tires, making me miss the appointment and lose the contract. … This time, at the wedding I had dreamed of, she replaced our wedding march with a funeral dirge, then pouted with a look of feigned innocence. “Oh, my silly brain,” she simpered. “I mixed them up. Which one was it again?” The mournful music looped for half an hour. Before I could even scream at her, my fiancé, Terence, was already soothing her. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll just push the ceremony back a bit. Take your time, Bonnie. It’s your first time managing an event this big, it’s normal for things to go wrong.” I was left standing on the altar alone, my white wedding gown feeling like a funeral shroud. Finally, Bonnie found the right song. Then, the rings went missing. After that, she managed to “trip” and drench me in tea. My expression turned to ice. That was it. I wasn’t marrying him. No man was worth this kind of humiliation. 1 Terence frantically dabbed at my dress with a napkin, trying to make light of the situation for the guests. “It’s nothing, everyone, just a little hiccup! Please be understanding, it’s Bonnie’s first time helping with a wedding.” He then turned to my stony face, his tone teasing. “You’re not going to throw a tantrum over a little thing like this, are you? Look, it’s all clean now.” I looked down. A prominent brown stain marred the front of my gown. It was hideous. Filthy. This dress was my creation. I had poured my heart into it, collaborating with the designer on every single detail. I’d even driven through a rainstorm just to argue over the placement of a single pearl. The boutique staff had grown weary of my perfectionism. “Miss Reed, it’s flawless. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.” And now… Bonnie grabbed my arm, her eyes red-rimmed. “Autumn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” It was always like this. I would endure, and endure, and a flimsy apology was supposed to make it all go away. Not anymore. The guests were murmuring amongst themselves, the air thick with awkwardness. Terence’s grandfather struck the floor with his cane, then produced a small, ornate box. “Autumn, this jade ring belonged to Terence’s grandmother. I was going to give it to you after your first child was born, but consider it a wedding gift.” He gave Terence a pointed look. Terence grabbed my hand, forcefully pulling me back onto the stage. As the officiant tried to smooth things over, a semblance of festivity returned. Terence gazed at me, his eyes full of what was supposed to pass for love, waiting for me to recite my vows. I just stared back at him and said, my voice cold and clear, “I don’t.” The thorn in my heart was lodged too deep. The smile on Terence’s face froze. He leaned in, hissing, “What are you doing? My grandfather just gave you Grandma’s ring. Don’t blow this out of proportion over a few little mistakes.” Little mistakes. He had no idea how many times I’d listened to our wedding song to ensure it was perfect. He had no idea how many sleepless nights I’d spent poring over every detail of this day, all while juggling my demanding job. I had invested every ounce of my being into this, wanting to give myself the perfect beginning. I had spent a small fortune to fly my family here, to finally show the people who’d always looked down on me that I had made it. Instead, I had become a laughingstock. My stepmother and stepsister were whispering, their smirks venomous. “I knew it. As if she could ever marry into a family like this. We flew business class for this?” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, willing myself not to cry. Terence caught my gaze, and the rebuke on his lips died. He took the ring, trying to force it onto my finger, but the size was wrong. It squeezed my knuckle painfully. “How can that be?” I yanked my hand back. “It’s meant for a ring finger after the vows. Of course it won’t fit a middle finger during them.” The jade ring clattered to the floor. Bonnie immediately dove for it. I walked over to her, ripped the veil from my hair, and crowned her with it. “Congratulations.” 2 I ran. The wedding was, of course, canceled. Terence gave me the silent treatment for days, until Bonnie was finally “punished” by the family. See? They thought I was just some girl from a lower-class background who wouldn’t dare make a fuss. Only when they saw I was serious did they make a token gesture of disciplining her. This relationship, with me always on the bottom rung, was exhausting. Terence finally tracked me down, his face a thundercloud. “Bonnie is being punished because of you. I need you to go to my grandfather and ask him to forgive her so we can move on. What’s the point of dragging this out? She’s my sister, not some stranger.” I wrenched my hand from his grasp. “Not my problem.” His patience snapped. He shoved me toward his car, forcing me inside. “You’re the one who started this mess! My family barely agreed to let me marry you in the first place, and now you pull this?” A chilling cold spread through my chest. It was true. I had worked so hard to be accepted by his prejudiced family. But I had dignity. I was a person, not a doormat. If that’s how it was, then it was time to make things crystal clear. At the Vance estate, Terence took all the blame, which was really just another way of protecting Bonnie. “Bonnie is still young,” he told his grandfather. “Ultimately, it was Autumn who didn’t explain things clearly enough. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine, too. You can punish me instead.” The old man ignored him, his sharp eyes fixed on me. Seeing my cold, unyielding expression, he barked, “Bonnie, apologize!” Bonnie was reluctant, but one look at her grandfather’s stern face and she bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Autumn. It was my fault. I’m just so clumsy, I’m always messing things up.” As she raised a hand to wipe away a crocodile tear, the ancestral jade ring flashed on her finger. I took a deep breath. “We’re broken up. The wedding is off. It has nothing to do with anyone else. I’m the one who doesn’t want to continue.” Terence’s face darkened, his body trembling with disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend that those words had come from my mouth. His grandfather gave me a few days to “reconsider.” I walked out without another word. To my surprise, Terence ignored Bonnie’s calls and ran after me. “Autumn, let me drive you home. What did you mean back there? What do you mean we’re broken up? I didn’t agree to it.” It was late and hard to find a cab, so I got in his car. On the way, he rambled on, explaining and justifying, but I tuned him out, staring blankly at the cityscape rushing by. Terence was about to say something else when his phone rang. His expression shifted instantly. “She has a fever? Okay, I’m on my way back right now.” He slammed on the brakes and pulled me out of the car. “Autumn, you’ll have to get a cab from here. Something’s happened to Bonnie. She must have gotten sick from being so upset about her punishment tonight.” The car sped away, leaving me alone in the biting wind. Of course, there were no cabs. I walked the whole way home in a daze, my hands frozen stiff. I couldn’t help but think about how we started. I met Terence one night years ago. After my father remarried, I became the family punching bag. Terence found me crying on a park bench, and after hearing my story, he stormed into my house with a wooden bat and smashed a coffee table to pieces. “Don’t you ever touch Autumn again,” he’d roared at my family, “or you’ll have to go through me.” He was the light that guided me forward. Until his adopted sister returned from overseas. Suddenly, I wasn’t the center of his universe anymore. I couldn’t be carefree, couldn’t be his priority. I was always second place. I decided then and there to refocus my life. My future would belong to my career. 3 When Terence finally came back to our apartment, I had already taken down most of the red “Double Happiness” decorations. He frowned, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “Still angry? You’re the one who put all this up. You’ll just have to put it back later. What a hassle.” He still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. I looked at him calmly. “That won’t be necessary.” He didn’t hear me. He was busy typing on his phone, a bright, carefree smile on his face, just like when we first started dating. “What did you say?” The will to fight had left me. I silently slipped out of his embrace. The next day, I was stopped at the entrance of my office. Our biggest client was inside, screaming. As he stormed out, he threw a contract at me. “You brought me a plagiarized proposal! Do you have any idea the kind of legal trouble you almost got our company into?” My heart plummeted. The proposal was entirely my own work. I had the creation logs to prove it. My boss looked at me with weary resignation. “We all know you’re capable, Autumn. The accusation comes from a small startup, from a new hire. See if it’s someone you know. But for now… we have to let you go.” His words echoed in the sudden silence. “No, you can’t. I gave everything to this job. The early mornings, the late nights… you know how hard I’ve worked…” But the look in his eyes didn’t change. I knew he was already being lenient by not suing me for the damages to the company. I walked home in a stupor. A text from my stepsister arrived, dripping with scorn. “You worked so hard for a decade to get into a good university, and for what? Look at you now, with nothing. You were supposed to be such a role model.” A lump formed in my throat. My fingers went numb. I had no words to fight back. When I opened the door to my apartment, I found Terence and Bonnie celebrating her new full-time job. I couldn’t contain my rage any longer. I stormed up to her. “Did you steal my proposal? Did you?!” Bonnie’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know! I thought it was just some old drafts. Terence said it was okay.” That was the last straw. I slapped her across the face and tried to drag her out the door to go clear my name. Terence grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron. “If you do this, you’ll ruin Bonnie’s future! She just started her career. You slapped her. Isn’t that enough to make you feel better?” My voice was a raw, broken scream. “Do you have any idea that if she doesn’t go, my future is ruined? Everything I’ve worked for all these years, gone! You think a single slap is a fair trade for my entire life, Terence? How dare you even suggest that?” Tears streamed down my face. Terence flinched under my gaze but stubbornly held his ground. “If you lose your job, fine. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to work.” My tears felt like a sick joke. The words made me want to vomit. “I don’t want you to take care of me! I want my name cleared! I want justice!” Terence grabbed my shoulders, his voice rising in frustration. “So you’d rather destroy Bonnie’s life instead?” So, once again, I was the one who had to be sacrificed. Bonnie, playing the victim, covered her face and ran from the room, deliberately shoving me as she passed. I stumbled backward, my lower back slamming into the sharp corner of a bookshelf. The pain was so intense I crumpled to the floor. Terence gave me a single glance before chasing after her. Between me and Bonnie, I would always, always be second. I went to the hospital alone. My back was a canvas of deep, ugly bruises. The pain brought fresh tears to my eyes. There was no one to rush through the paperwork for me anymore. No one to gently blow on my injuries, whispering words of comfort. I shut down my emotions and began to gather evidence. I would get my justice. I couldn’t rely on anyone else. From now on, I was my own staunchest ally. 4 I pulled security footage, backend server logs, every digital crumb I could find, and posted it all online. Then I filed a police report. It didn’t take long for Terence to find me. He was holding a tube of ointment, but he didn’t even ask about my injury. “Just let this go. Can you please stop making a scene?” He demanded I take down my posts and withdraw the police report. Bonnie was threatening suicide. He had to leave to be with her, but not before delivering an ultimatum. “Autumn, don’t push me. I’m giving you one hour to take everything down.” I didn’t understand what he meant at first. The story was exploding online. People were rallying to my side. Even my old boss called and promised that once things were cleared up, my job would be waiting for me. A genuine smile touched my lips. I felt a surge of energy. But it was short-lived. Terence turned all the evidence against me. He issued a public statement claiming the laptop, and therefore the original idea, was his. He had the receipts to prove it—it had been a promotion gift from him to me. That gift had just become the sharpest knife in his arsenal. My smile dissolved into a cloud of despair. He was a major player in our industry. And he was the person closest to me. His word was enough to turn the tide of public opinion. “She’s the real thief! This is a criminal offense! Boycott Autumn Reed!” I was doxxed. My personal information was plastered online. My assets were frozen to prepare for the “reputational damages” I owed Bonnie. I became a pariah overnight. The only place I could find a moment of peace was at the cemetery. I looked at my mother’s photograph on the headstone and broke down completely. “Mom, I wanted to build a good life. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was worthy. But it’s all gone. Everything I worked so hard to build has been destroyed.” “I’m so tired. I can’t get back up.” Just a few days ago, before the wedding, Terence had knelt in this very spot and promised he would give me a home. He promised he would make my mother proud. I slumped against the cold marble and drifted off. In my dreams, I was an outcast, with no job, no money… nothing. I awoke to find Terence standing over me, holding an umbrella to shield me from the sun. “I know you’re hurting,” he said softly. “This is the last time, I promise. Bonnie didn’t mean for it to go this far. You have so many other options, other paths you can take.” I didn’t even have the energy to slap him. “Paths? My love, my career, my future… they’re all gone. What paths are you talking about?” His phone rang. He hesitated for a second before answering. It was Bonnie, sobbing on the other end. “Autumn hired bots to attack me online!” Terence spent a few moments placating her, promising he would handle it, before hanging up. I laughed, a pale, brittle sound in the bright sunlight. He looked uncomfortable and tried to help me up. “Once we’re married, everything I have is yours. You don’t need a career to define your self-worth.” The wedding ring wasn’t even mine, and he thought his possessions were? I pushed myself to my feet. “I don’t want your things. I want my life.” He didn’t understand. His frustration boiled over. “Isn’t it a good thing? You won’t have to work at all! What more could you want? We’ll have a few kids… it’ll be a better life than the one you came from. You should be grateful. You were fine with it before, why not now?” The broken window effect… once a boundary is crossed, it’s easier to cross it again and again. I was done. We were never on the same path. As Terence’s face grew darker, I let go of my last restraint. There was one thing that was truly equal for everyone: life itself. “Terence,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “if you keep pushing me, I will drag you both down to hell with me. You can be the pallbearers at my life’s funeral.”

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On Valentine’s Day, my mother-in-law died unexpectedly at the hospital. And my husband, Matthew Cleese, one of the city’s top surgeons, personally signed the organ donation consent form. Then he scrubbed in and harvested her heart himself. I stormed into the hospital, ready to tear him apart, but he just coolly pulled off his surgical gloves and spoke. “Clara’s mother has been waiting for this heart for three years. She saved my life once. This is the only way I can repay her.” “Clara only has her mother left in this world. Can’t you be a little more generous? I’ll bring her to lay flowers at your mother’s grave, and we’ll put this behind us.” I stared at the shrouded body on the operating table, then at the fresh bloodstains on his white coat, and fought the urge to laugh. He still doesn’t know. The heart belonged to his mother. 1 Clara White, a vision of innocence in a white dress, hid behind Matthew, looking fragile and pitiable. Matthew pursed his lips, avoiding my gaze. His voice was low and strained. “Three years ago, I was doing volunteer medical work when I was caught in a landslide. Clara and her mother risked their own lives to dig me out.” “They never asked for anything in return… Now her mother is sick. I can’t just let her die.” He paused, then added, “Your mother was old. She didn’t have much time left anyway. It’s better that she served a final purpose.” I stared at him in disbelief. This man, who had shared my bed for five years, was suddenly a stranger, and the coldness emanating from him was terrifying. How could a doctor, a healer, say something so callous? He hadn’t even visited his mother once since she’d been admitted. He’d just cut out her heart and handed it over to Clara White’s mother. I had thought he was ruthless enough to sacrifice his own mother for a debt of gratitude. I never imagined he thought he was sacrificing mine. The absurdity of it was almost laughable. “Matthew!” My nails dug into my palms. “My mother has never done anything to wrong you. How could you do this?” “And the person who saved you back then, it was—” Before I could finish, I was cut off. Clara’s eyes reddened. “Miss Reed, I know a simple country girl like me can’t compare to a lady like you.” “You have so many people in your life, but I only have my mother. If you’re really that unhappy, you can take it out on me.” She raised her hand and began slapping her own face, one sharp crack after another. Matthew grabbed her wrist, his voice softening. “Clara, stop. You don’t need to apologize. This has nothing to do with you.” He turned on me, his voice sharp with accusation. “I never knew you could be so vicious.” “Clara isn’t a monster like you. She’s kind. Even after her mother’s surgery was a success, she was worried about others. She begged me to donate the rest of your mother’s organs to people in need. Why can’t you be more like her?” My voice was shrill. “Matthew, what gives you the right to make that decision?” His eyes were like chips of ice. “I’ve already signed the consent forms. The body has already been taken away.” I looked into those cold, indifferent eyes and felt a chill seep into my bones. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. I felt a wave of injustice, not for myself, but for his mother. After Matthew’s father had an affair, it was his mother who walked away with nothing but him. She raised him alone, working herself to the bone to give him a future. And this was her reward. I straightened my back, my gaze locking with his. I spoke each word with deliberate clarity. “Matthew, you will regret this.” 2 My mother-in-law had treated me like her own daughter from the moment I married into the family. I couldn’t let her suffer such an indignity. But Matthew was now a celebrated expert, a titan in the city’s medical community. People were falling over themselves to do his bidding. How could an ordinary person like me possibly stand against him? I tried contacting the media, but every outlet gave me the same canned response: “Ma’am, we can’t run this story.” With no other options, I posted the truth online. The post lasted less than a minute before my account was banned. It was Matthew, of course. “Don’t waste your energy. You can’t win against me.” The voice came from behind me. I turned to see him standing there, a look of weary condescension on his face. “Autumn, can’t you just let this go?” I clenched my fists, my nails breaking the skin of my palms. “Never.” I had already looked into it. My mother-in-law’s condition hadn’t been serious. It was a minor procedure, one that should never have been fatal. Matthew had killed his own mother. And he wouldn’t even leave her body intact. If I let this go, I would be betraying the years of kindness she had shown me. Matthew’s face darkened. “Do you have any idea how many people in this city are begging me for a surgery slot? With a single nod, I have people who will eliminate any ‘problem’ for me.” He sneered. “Do you really think you stand a chance?” I met his gaze, my voice calm. “Let’s find out.” A vein throbbed in his temple before he turned and stormed away. He wasn’t always like this. He used to be the very picture of a compassionate doctor. He’d been scammed several times by people faking injuries on the street, but the next time he saw someone collapsed on the pavement, he would still rush to help without hesitation. I had once warned him against being too trusting. He had held me and said, “If everyone just stood by and did nothing, what kind of world would this be?” “I’m not afraid of being scammed. I’m afraid that one day, there will be someone who genuinely needs help, and my hesitation will cost them their life. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.” I don’t know when he changed. It wasn’t just because of Clara. He had become addicted to the power and control his status gave him. He had started to look down on ordinary people. I saw him again three days later. He walked in with Clara in tow, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Clara’s mother needs care. It’s more convenient for her to stay with us. I’ve already agreed.” I sat on the sofa, watching them in silence. Matthew suddenly exploded. “Autumn Reed, she is the woman who saved my life! Who do you think you’re scowling at?” I rose slowly, my voice devoid of emotion. “It’s your house. You can let whoever you want live in it.” I knew the calm wouldn’t last, but I didn’t expect the frame-up to come so quickly. I had just gotten back from meeting with a lawyer. Before I could even turn off the engine, my car door was yanked open. Matthew dragged me out, and I fell hard onto the pavement. Before I could get up, his icy voice rained down on me. “Autumn Reed, I never thought you could sink this low.” “Hiring men to assault Clara? Are you even human?” The disgust in his eyes was a physical blow, a knife twisting in my chest. “You make me sick.” 3 I knew Matthew could be cruel, but I never imagined this. He fabricated the entire story and posted it online, painting me as a jealous monster who couldn’t stand her husband’s savior and had resorted to violence. The post included a video from that day at the hospital, showing Clara on her knees, slapping herself. The internet went into a frenzy. 【My God, what a toxic monster. This is disgusting.】 【She’s jealous of the woman who saved her husband’s life? I can’t even with this.】 【How can people like this exist? Go to hell.】 A tidal wave of hate crashed over me. My inbox was flooded with messages telling me to die. My personal information, including my home address, was leaked. Matthew moved out with Clara, leaving me alone in the house. Every night was a new terror. Banging on the door that lasted for hours. People throwing venomous snakes into my yard. In just three days, I lost ten pounds. I was too afraid to go outside, huddling in a corner of the house. Eventually, I ran out of food. I put on a mask and a hat and slipped out, hoping to go unnoticed. The moment I stepped into the supermarket, a man with bloodshot eyes charged at me. “You bitch! You monster! Die!” I dodged instinctively. There was a hiss of acrid white smoke as a searing pain erupted on my left arm. The fabric of my sleeve instantly corroded, turning black. “You ungrateful snake! Women like you should be drowned!” Security guards tackled him, but he continued to struggle and scream. In the next moment, a tall figure stepped in front of me. “I’m sorry, everyone. I know this is my wife’s fault. And mine.” It was Matthew. His voice was gentle as he pulled me out from behind him, forcefully ripping off my mask and hat. Someone in the crowd recognized me. “It’s her! The monster from the internet!” “I can’t believe I’m seeing her in person. Get out of here! I feel sick just being near you!” I don’t know who threw the first one, but soon eggs and rotting vegetables were flying through the air, splattering against me. Matthew, standing in front of me, was not spared. A flicker of revulsion crossed his face, but he maintained his mask of a devoted, pained husband. “I know everyone is angry, and I’m not here to make excuses for my wife.” “But I hope you can give her a chance to make amends for her mistakes. We will be holding a public apology tomorrow in the main square.” He dragged me back home. I yanked my arm away, my voice like ice. “An apology? What apology?” Matthew wasn’t angry. “You were in the wrong this time. You owe Clara an apology. I’ve already arranged it with her. As long as you apologize tomorrow, she’ll agree to let this go.” I looked at his face and found it utterly laughable. He was the one who had put me in this hell, and now he was offering me a chance at forgiveness? “I will not apologize,” I said coldly. He just smiled and took out his phone. “Your mother’s organs were donated, but there are still some ashes left. It’s your choice. You can either show up and apologize, or you can say goodbye to what’s left of your mother.” I stared at the crude jar he was showing me on the screen. A cold sneer touched my lips. “Matthew, those are your mother’s ashes. Not mine.” 4 At my words, the color drained from Matthew’s face. “Autumn Reed, I’ve tried to be civil with you, but you keep pushing it.” “My mother treated you so well, and you have the nerve to wish death upon her? I won’t let you get away with this!” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the house. When we reached the main square, he kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground. A crowd quickly gathered. He stood over me, his voice ringing with self-righteousness. “I’m sure you’ve all seen the news lately. I failed to control my wife, and she has done something terrible.” “I have brought her here today so that you can all witness her apology.” Clara appeared right on cue. She glanced at me timidly. “Matthew, maybe we should just let it go. It was my fault for getting too close to you. It’s only natural that Autumn would be upset.” “Miss White, you’re too kind! Good people always get taken advantage of. She needs to be taught a lesson!” someone from the crowd shouted. “Yeah! She should get on her knees and beg for your forgiveness! Everyone knows what she did!” “We support you! Make her apologize!” The roar of the crowd was deafening. My face was pale, my hands trembling. Matthew sighed dramatically. “Clara, you’re too good for this world. I worry people will take advantage of you.” “Since you’re too kind to punish her, as her husband, I will make her apologize to you.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head against the pavement. Crimson bloomed on my forehead, dripping down and blurring my vision. My strength seemed to drain away with the blood. “Autumn Reed,” Matthew commanded. “Do you admit you were wrong?” I bit my lip, my voice a raw whisper. “I did nothing wrong. I will not apologize.” He seemed shocked that I still had the will to defy him. His grip tightened, and he slammed my head down again. “Admit it! Do you admit you were wrong?” The pain was all-consuming. I was close to breaking. I bit down on my tongue. The sharp, metallic taste of blood cleared my head for a moment. “I. Did. Nothing. Wrong.” If I admitted guilt here, in front of everyone, no amount of evidence would ever clear my name later. I would not give in. Matthew sneered. “If you won’t admit your mistake, then you leave me no choice.” He ordered someone to bring a bucket of cold water. “As your husband, I can’t stand by while you walk down the wrong path.” My whole body trembled at the sight of the water. “Let… let go of me!” He held me fast, forcing my head down toward the bucket. Just as my consciousness began to fade, as despair took hold, a voice cut through the noise. “Let go of my daughter.” My mother burst through the crowd and threw her arms around me. Matthew stared at her, his face a mask of pure white shock. “How… How are you here?”

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The day before our engagement, my fiancé Connor, heir to Summit Corp., was distant as we walked downtown. I bought some street food and offered him a bite. He slapped it away, furious. “Sophie,” he snapped, “my family needs a classy matriarch. This cheap stuff is embarrassing. How will my parents accept you?” Humiliated, I threw the food away and nodded. “Whatever you say.” But at our party the next day, Lillian stood by his side. He pulled me aside, pleading, “She tried to kill herself over us. I have to do this. I’ll come back for you once she’s stable.” Again, I nodded. “Fine by me,” and walked away. Four years later, he appeared at my door with a ring. “Sophie, Lillian agreed to the divorce! We can be together now!” I frowned, pushing him toward the door. “Move. You’ll make me late to pick up my son.” 1 Connor trailed after me. “I’ve had this place watched, Sophie. No man has set foot in here for four years. What son are you talking about?” He softened his tone, trying to sound reasonable. “I know you’re angry. It’s okay. I’ll take you home with me right now. I know your family is poor, just scraping by with that little chicken farm, but I’ve finally convinced my parents. They won’t look down on you anymore.” I turned, my brow furrowed in irritation. “I told you before, my family’s farm covers several hills.” Connor scoffed. “Hills or not, it’s still just chickens. Please, whatever you do, don’t mention it in front of my parents. It’s so… provincial.” I gave up. There was no getting through to this city slicker. He couldn’t possibly grasp the value of truly organic, free-range chickens raised over acres of rolling hills. That little “provincial” farm had made my family wealthy long ago. I picked up my pace. If I was any later, my little boy would be the last one left waiting. Connor kept up, his voice a persistent buzz in my ear. “We can go back to the manor right now. It’s huge. Lillian hasn’t moved out yet, but there’s more than enough room for you.” He paused, then added, “You’ll have to be nice to her, though. She’s… sensitive. Just let her have her way. We can’t risk upsetting her.” “What the hell?” I spun around, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re not even divorced, and you’re asking me to move in with you and your wife?” “What do you think I am? Your mistress? Are you insane?” I yanked my car door open and slid inside, desperate to put some distance between us. But he was too quick. He smoothly opened the passenger door and settled into the seat beside me. “I always told you,” he chided gently, “lock your doors the second you get in the car. For safety. Still so careless after all these years.” His tone was so familiar, so possessive, as if the last four years had never happened. A hot flash of fury shot through me. “Get. Out.” Instead, he clicked his seatbelt into place, a smug, triumphant look on his face. “You said you were picking up your son, right? Better get going. You don’t want to be late.” I glanced at the clock. He was right. I was running out of time. My son would be heartbroken if he was the last one there. I slammed my foot on the gas, peeling out of the driveway. “Don’t you dare say a word when you see my son,” I warned, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Connor just shrugged, utterly unconcerned. “Sure, I’ll keep my mouth shut. You’ve really committed to this, haven’t you? I can’t wait to see where you pull this imaginary son from.” As I drove, I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths. We stopped at a red light, the traffic ahead a tangled mess. “Connor,” I said, my voice low and heavy, “why did you assume I’d still be waiting for you after four years?” My tone must have finally gotten through to him, because for a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual unshakable arrogance. “Once you’ve been with me, Sophie, who else could possibly measure up? What kind of men do you even meet? Who else would you find? Of course you’d wait for me.” A long, weary sigh escaped my lips. So that was it. In his mind, I wasn’t worthy of anyone better. That’s why he could leave me without a second thought and come back four years later, expecting me to fall right back into his arms. The light turned green. I pressed the accelerator. As we crossed the intersection, I said softly, “Connor, I’m not kidding. I’m married. I have a child.” “Pull over after this, and please, just go. I don’t want you disrupting the life I have now.” He frowned. “Sophie, do you really think a lie like that will work on me?” “I know you’re hurting. You can throw any tantrum you want. I’ll be right here with you, until you’ve gotten it all out of your system and you’re ready to come home.” 2 If he wouldn’t believe my words, he would have to believe his own eyes. “Mommy! You’re late today!” A little boy with bright eyes and a sweet smile ran toward me, his arms outstretched. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Mommy had to pick something up from the old house. I’ll make it up to you with some fries later, okay?” “Okay!” My son, Leo, chirped happily, hugging me tight. Connor stood frozen, his face a mask of shock. He never expected to see a real child. His expression hardened. “Sophie, this joke has gone far enough. You can’t just grab some random kid off the street!” “This is serious! It’s kidnapping! You could go to jail for this. Take him back right now.” He strode forward, his hand reaching for Leo’s arm to drag him away. I slapped his hand away and pulled Leo into my arms protectively. “What do you think you’re doing?” Just then, one of the kindergarten teachers walked over, a friendly smile on her face. “Oh, you must be Leo’s dad! We’ve only ever met his mom. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.” Connor’s jaw dropped. He stared at me, then at the teacher, utterly stunned. “He’s… he’s really your son?” “Of course.” I was about to turn and leave, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me. His eyes were locked on the teacher. “How old is the boy?” “Leo just turned three,” she said cheerfully. Three. The word hung in the air. Connor’s grip on my arm tightened painfully. “Sophie… he’s my son, isn’t he? You were pregnant, and you never told me?” I looked at him, my expression unreadable. “If I had been pregnant with your child back then, would you have chosen me over Lillian?” “I…” He faltered, then looked down, his brow creased. “Lillian would have died.” A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Then it’s a good thing he’s not your son.” “Sophie, I’m taking you and our son home. Right now.” “My parents have been hoping for a grandchild for years. If you come back with our son, they won’t care about our families’ status difference anymore.” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Who wants to go with you? I told you, he’s not your son. Are you deaf?” “Stop this nonsense, Sophie. I will not allow Connor blood to be raised out here in the world, all alone.” He glared around him with disdain. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? How could you let our son attend a school like this? This place is a dump. He’ll never get a proper education here.” I glanced at the beautiful, sprawling campus of the kindergarten, then back at Connor. This was a top-tier prep school, a direct feeder into the Ivy Leagues. Did he have any idea what that meant? It was worlds better than the so-called elite academy he attended, where rich kids went to waste time. I had specifically asked Alex to get Leo in here so he wouldn’t pick up the arrogant, entitled attitude of kids like Connor. To hear him belittle it… I was suddenly so grateful I’d never married this short-sighted man. “Stay away from us,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “This has nothing to do with you.” “If he’s not my son, then whose is he?” Connor demanded, turning back to the teacher. “You! Check the records. Who is listed as the father?” To protect our privacy, we had left the father’s information blank on the school forms. The teacher, flustered, admitted she didn’t know. Hearing that the father’s name was missing only solidified Connor’s delusion. “Sophie, it must have been so hard for you, being a single mother all these years. You’ve been stubborn long enough. Come home with me.” Leo, sensing the tension, whispered in my ear, “Mommy, what about my fries?” Connor overheard and exploded. “Sophie! How can you feed my son that junk?” he roared. “You and your disgusting street food! First that cheap chicken, and now you’re feeding our son this greasy garbage? What if he gets sick? Can you take responsibility for that? He’s the only heir to the Connor family!” My son’s fries are homemade by our chef with organic potatoes. How is that garbage? I ignored him, turning to carry Leo to the car. But Connor blocked the door. “Don’t put him in this piece of junk. It’s not safe for my son.” My car was a modest but reliable sedan, chosen specifically to avoid drawing attention. The back seat, however, was custom-fitted with the latest and safest child-proofing technology. If Connor had bothered to look inside for even a second, he would have seen that I had a child and that I took damn good care of him. But he never cared about the details of my life. He only cared about himself. He gestured grandly toward his gleaming Mercedes. “Only I can give you the life you deserve.” As if on cue, Lillian appeared, dressed in a stunning evening gown that looked completely out of place on the busy afternoon street. She picked her way delicately across the pavement, a frown on her face. “Connor, darling, I thought you were picking up Sophie. What’s taking so long? We have to meet that mysterious new CEO of the Alexander Corporation, you know.” Connor’s expression instantly softened at the sight of her. “I remember, Lillian, don’t worry. I never forget what’s important to you.” He turned to me. “Sophie’s being a little difficult, but I’ll handle it. I’ll be right with you to meet Mr. Alexander. You look so beautiful today, he’ll be absolutely charmed. You’ll be the perfect Mrs. Alexander.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “The Alexanders are the most powerful family in Crestwood, far more influential than us. You deserve that happiness, Lillian. Just give me a minute to sort this out, okay?” I stared at them, my mind reeling. Did I hear that right? Lillian was supporting Connor’s reunion with his ex-girlfriend, while Connor was actively trying to set his wife up with another man? And this Mr. Alexander… they couldn’t possibly be talking about my husband, could they? 3 My gaze shifted to Lillian with a complicated mix of disbelief and annoyance. This woman was my polar opposite in every conceivable way. “I suppose I am just that captivating,” Lillian said with a smug little smile. Then her eyes fell on the child in my arms, and she let out a piercing shriek. “Sophie! That child… is he?” Connor rushed to explain. “He’s my son, Lillian. Let me explain.” Lillian clutched her chest, looking as if she’d been mortally wounded. “Connor… you had a child with her behind my back? You could have refused to marry me, but why… why did you have to betray me?” Her voice cracked. “Is that why you would never touch me? Because of them?” Connor immediately went to her side. “Lillian, it’s not what you think. This was before we were married.” He shot me a venomous glare. “She was desperate not to lose me, so she had this baby to trap me. I only just found out today. Don’t lower yourself to her level, please.” Lillian pointed a trembling finger at me, her face a mask of tragic betrayal. “Sophie, how could you be so shameless? To secretly have Connor’s son… do you have no decency?” Leo didn’t understand the words, but he knew she was attacking me. He pointed his little finger right back at her. “You’re a mean lady! Why are you yelling at my mommy? You’re bad!” Lillian’s face contorted with rage, and she raised her hand to strike him. I moved in a flash, spinning on my heel while still holding Leo with one arm, and caught her wrist in a vice-like grip. “You lay one finger on my son, and I swear you’ll regret it.” “Sophie, let her go!” Connor grabbed my arm. “She didn’t mean it! This is your fault! If you hadn’t hidden the child from me, none of this would have happened!” He could say what he wanted about me, but they were not touching my son. I released Lillian’s wrist and, using the momentum, swung my hand across Connor’s face. The crack of the slap echoed in the sudden silence. “Control your wife,” I snarled. “If she ever tries to hurt my son again, I will make her pay a thousand times over.” “You hit him!” Lillian shrieked. “Connor is the CEO of Summit Corp! He could crush you with a snap of his fingers! Don’t think having his son gives you any power. The Connors will never accept you!” She sneered. “Even if I leave, the next Mrs. Connor won’t be you.” I let out a short, cold laugh. Only Lillian cared about that title. “Please. The only one who would want to be Mrs. Connor is a bitch.” “You… you called me a bitch?” Lillian clung to Connor’s arm, her eyes, now cold and sharp, fixed on my son. “Connor, look at her. What kind of influence will she be on the boy? You need to bring him back to the Connor estate immediately, where he can be raised properly.” Connor’s brow furrowed. “Lillian’s right. Give me my son, Sophie. I can give him the best life imaginable.” “In your dreams!” Seeing them both preparing to lunge for Leo, I clutched him tighter and bolted back towards the school grounds. As I ran, I fumbled for my phone and dialed Alex. “Alex! Someone’s trying to take our son! I’m at the kindergarten entrance! Get here now! Right now!” Connor was right behind me. “Sophie, he’s my son too! He belongs with me, at home!”

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