In the tenth year of our marriage, I fell out of love with my husband. I began to loathe his embraces, his kisses, his touch. Even the thought of handling his belongings filled me with a sickening revulsion. The day the chandelier fell, his first instinct was to shield his female secretary. The System watched me with pity. [Host has been detected as abandoned by the male lead ninety-nine times. The next instance will result in repatriation to your original world.] I breathed a sigh of relief. No one knew. I was the one who had deliberately loosened the chandelier wire. 1 When I arrived, Tanya was feeding Vincent his medicine. Seeing me, the man spoke in a flat tone. “Give the medicine to my wife. You can leave.” Tanya’s eyes immediately reddened. She looked at Vincent, her face a mask of wounded vulnerability. He showed no sign of softening. “Leave.” Tanya put down the bowl and fled the room in tears. I spoke calmly. “Why bother with this act for my benefit, Vincent? It’s only going to take you more effort to comfort her later.” He lowered his gaze, motioning for me to take Tanya’s place. Suppressing a wave of nausea, I scooped up the herbal medicine and brought the spoon to his lips. He was handsome. Devastatingly so. So handsome that women at his company, fully aware he was married, still threw themselves at him. Tanya was one of them. I, too, had once been utterly captivated. During nights wrapped in his arms, my fingers would trace the sharp, perfect lines of his jaw, his brow, his cheekbones, over and over. But now, it took every ounce of my self-control not to vomit at the sight of his face. “I wasn’t saving Tanya,” he said, his hand moving to stroke my hair. “I was saving the child in her womb.” He looked at me, his eyes pleading for understanding. “The child is innocent, isn’t it, Helena?” I took a step back. “Can I go now?” Vincent frowned. “I’m your husband, lying here in a hospital bed. Where else would you go?” A ghost of a smile touched my lips. “If I leave, your perfect little family of three can finally be reunited.” His jaw tightened, a flicker of anger in his eyes. But then he sighed, the anger dissolving into a familiar, weary resignation. “Helena Shen,” he murmured, “you only act this way because you know how much I love you.” 2 “You only act this way because you know how much I love you.” The eighteen-year-old Vincent had said those exact words to me once. It was right after he discovered I was a task-runner, a plant sent to complete a mission. “So all of it… was just a game?” he’d asked, his voice raw. “Buying me lunch every day, bringing me water after basketball practice, saving up all your money to buy me that RTX 4090… it was all just a mission to make me fall for you, so you could break my heart?” The usual carefree arrogance was gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made his lean, youthful frame seem fragile, on the verge of shattering. I stood before him, pale and speechless, the excuses dying on my lips. “You’re cruel, Helena,” he finally said. “You win.” “From now on, you and I have nothing to do with each other.” He forced a laugh, trying to slip back into the persona of the untouchable, wealthy heir. But as he turned to walk away, I saw the tell-tale redness rimming his eyes. He never looked at me again. The System informed me that his affection meter had dropped to zero. A heavy, suffocating weight settled in my chest. It wasn’t about the fifty-million-dollar prize money. It wasn’t about failing to go home. What was it, then? It was the realization that I, Helena Shen, was a coward. I didn’t have the courage to admit that I had genuinely fallen in love with the vibrant, rebellious boy from the story. From that day on, Vincent threw away every gift I’d ever given him. He rejected my apologies, my attempts to reconcile. If he saw me in the hallway, he would physically recoil as if I were something filthy. I thought a man as proud as him would never forgive me. But when a group of thugs with iron pipes cornered me in an alley, their leering faces a blur of malice… Vincent didn’t hesitate. He charged in, shielding me with his own body. After the brawl, as he lay bleeding on a stretcher, he shakily pulled something from his pocket. Something I thought he had thrown away long ago. A simple black hair tie. My hair tie. “You’re free now, Helena.” [Congratulations, Host. Mission successful.] The two voices spoke at the same time. I collapsed beside him, holding his hand and sobbing, a bittersweet ache blooming in my heart. That day, eighteen-year-old Helena made the boldest decision of her life. Looking straight at Vincent, she spoke to the System with unwavering certainty. “I’m not leaving.” “I’m going to marry him.” And now, at twenty-eight, looking at the man lying in the hospital bed, I said calmly, “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Vincent grabbed the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine. The kiss was savage, desperate. Fresh blood immediately soaked through his bandages, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain, his teeth grinding against my lip. When he finally pulled away, he asked me how it felt. I considered it for a moment. “Revolting,” I said honestly. “The thought of this mouth having been on God knows how many other women… I’m thinking of scheduling an HIV test.” His face darkened completely, his patience gone. Just as I reached the door of the hospital room, his voice, laced with casual mockery, stopped me. “Do you even remember how many times you’ve asked for a divorce?” he taunted. “A hundred? A thousand? Have you ever actually left?” “Stop the drama, Helena. You gave up your chance to go back to that other world. Without me, without our home, where could you possibly go?” My feet felt rooted to the floor. The trust I had once placed in him had become the very weapon he used to impale me. A suffocating pressure tightened around my heart. I turned back and gave him a bright, brittle smile. “Back to my own home.” A crack appeared in his composure. He was about to demand what I meant, but just then, his phone rang with Tanya’s unique ringtone. By the time he hung up, the room was empty. 4 Sitting in the back of a taxi on the way back to our villa, I drifted, wondering. When did it all go so wrong between us? Perhaps it started the day the System suddenly reappeared. [If you wish to return home, I can offer you another chance.] At the time, Vincent and I had been married for a year, deep in the honey-sweet haze of our newlywed life. My biggest complaint was that the man had the stamina of a wild animal in bed. I had laughed and refused without a second thought. “No, thank you. I’m happy. I don’t want to leave.” The System was silent for a long time before making a new pact. If Vincent abandoned me one hundred times, I would be free to go home. But how could that ever happen? This was a man who would side with me against his own mother in an argument. I dismissed the strange pact and forgot about it. Then came the third year of our marriage. Vincent hired a remarkably capable new female secretary. She was his right hand in the boardroom and the one who prepared his perfectly balanced lunches. She told me not to make him greasy chicken soup. She told me not to waste his time with frivolous shopping trips. She told me not to call him during his lunch break. At first, I was annoyed, but I didn’t think much of it. After all, Tanya was thirty-eight, dressed in plain, modest clothes, and never wore a speck of makeup. The office staff called her ‘The Iron Abbess’ behind her back. Then, while I was pregnant, a series of graphic photos were sent to my phone. The man working up a sweat on top of ‘The Iron Abbess’ was none other than my husband, Vincent, the same man who demanded a good-morning kiss from me every single day. 5 “We were both drunk.” “Neither of us meant for it to happen.” Vincent begged, pleaded, and apologized. He even got on his knees. But nothing could quell the storm of rage and betrayal inside me. Like any woman scorned, I stormed into his office and slapped Tanya hard across the face. But the man who was so docile and accommodating at home, in front of everyone, returned the slap with one of his own. I was stunned. My cheek swelled instantly, and a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Vincent’s voice was ice. “You can take out your anger on me all you want, but you will not involve Tanya. She’s a victim in this, too.” A victim? The person who had sent me the photos… …was her. After that day, nothing changed. Vincent continued to take Tanya to business dinners, on work trips. They were inseparable, acting as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, I became a paranoid wreck, monitoring their every move like a hawk, earning the label of ‘the crazy wife.’ Before my child was even born, I was diagnosed with severe depression. When I showed Vincent the diagnosis, my voice was hollowed out by exhaustion. “Let’s separate.” That’s when he finally panicked. He knelt again, begging me, his voice cracking with desperation. He fired Tanya, even offered to sell his company to focus on me. I was the one who stopped him. “Just come back to our family,” I had said. “Cut off all contact with that woman. Nothing else matters.” He nodded profusely, thanking me, calling me the best wife in the world. We were about to leave for a reconciliation trip to the Maldives. Then, Tanya attempted suicide. She swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills while wearing a wedding dress. Her suicide note read: “Vincent, I hope in the next life, I meet you first.” That night, Vincent left me alone in a foreign country and took the first flight back. Tanya didn’t die. But my baby did. The shock sent me into premature labor and I hemorrhaged. When the doctor told me I would never be able to carry a child again, I summoned the System. “That pact we made,” I asked calmly. “Is it still valid?” Ticking off the hundred abandonments was surprisingly easy. All it took was a little nudge in Tanya’s direction, and she would perform beautifully. A sudden heart palpitation on our wedding anniversary. A terrified phone call during a thunderstorm. A bidding war over the final piece at a charity auction. Every single time, Vincent would first try to placate me with a half-hearted excuse. Then, he would follow his heart. 6 “We’re here,” the taxi driver said. I nodded. I pushed open the door to the villa and collapsed onto the bed. Right on cue, a message from Tanya lit up my phone. “They say cravings for sour things mean a boy, and spicy things mean a girl. But I want to eat everything! I wonder what this one will be.” Another message followed. “Still, no matter what it is, it’s better than a useless lump of flesh, don’t you think?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. After her ‘suicide attempt,’ Tanya had been rehired, promoted, and given a raise. A few months ago, they had another ‘accidental’ drunken night. Tanya ‘accidentally’ got pregnant. Vincent promised me that after the child was born, he would cut ties with her for good. I could only laugh. The System’s voice suddenly echoed in my mind. [Congratulations. You can go home now.] I froze. Weren’t we one short? The System projected a screen before me. It showed Vincent’s hospital room. His friends were there. “I never thought I’d see the day things got this bad between him and Helena,” one of them said with a sigh. Another friend elbowed him. “Dude, not now.” “No, it’s true! Back then, Vincent’s leg was completely shattered for her sake…” Just then, Tanya walked in, smiling. “What are you all talking about?” The room fell silent. After everyone else had left, Tanya spoke again. “Is it true? What he said? Did you really get your leg broken for Helena?” Vincent, eyes closed, grunted in affirmation. Disbelief washed over Tanya’s face, and she slowly covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Wincing, Vincent got out of bed and pulled her into a hug. “What’s wrong?” “Promise me,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. “Promise me that if it ever happened again… even if Helena were about to be gang-raped… you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself to save her. Promise me.” Vincent froze. I held my breath, my hands trembling. Seeing his hesitation, Tanya took his hand and placed it on her swollen belly, her eyes red and pleading. “Promise me?” she asked again. Looking at the tear-streaked face of the woman in his arms, Vincent finally relented. “I promise,” he said, his voice heavy. “If it happened again, I wouldn’t be so stupid.” I laughed. I laughed until the tears streamed down my face. So pathetic, Helena. But if it happened again… I wouldn’t be so stupid, either.

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1 My last memory was the sterile white of a delivery room, the frantic beeping of machines fading to a dull hum. Then, nothing. Now, I’m back. But fifteen years have vanished. And on my very first day, I discovered that the precious daughter I had traded my life for was being tormented by my husband’s so-called “one that got away” and her venomous child. As for my husband, Jerry Knight? He’d transformed into New York’s most reclusive spiritual guru, a phantom who spent his days shrouded in incense, detached from the mortal world. So I grabbed a fistful of his hair, slapped him three times across the face, and hissed, “Is this how you mourn me?” My eyelids felt like lead weights as I forced them open, the world swimming into focus. I was standing on a familiar street, right next to the high school I’d once attended. A few pedestrians ambled by, some casting curious glances at my dazed figure. Ten minutes later, I stared up at the indifferent sky, forced to accept the impossible. I hadn’t just been reborn. I had jumped forward fifteen years in time. Taking a shaky breath, I flagged down a passerby and asked to borrow her phone. I dialed a number I knew better than my own—Jerry’s. After a few rings, he answered. “Hello?” The voice was his—deep, familiar, achingly handsome. But time had layered it with a new gravity, a magnetic weight it hadn’t possessed before. A lump formed in my throat, and my voice cracked as I spoke. “Jerry, it’s me. It’s Annelise. I know this sounds insane, but I think I might have… time-traveled? Or something. I’m at our old high school. Can you just… can you please come get me?” The line went dead silent. A long, suffocating pause stretched between us. Just as I was about to say something, anything, to break the tension, a cold, derisive chuckle echoed through the phone. “I have no idea where you people scraped my number from,” he said, his tone dripping with contempt, “but tell whoever put you up to this to try a better trick next time. Mimicking a voice and expecting to get my attention? It’s pathetic. Disgusting.” His words hit me like a physical blow, my fingers going numb around the phone. Then, white-hot rage seared through me. I didn’t care who was watching. “Jerry Knight, who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” I snarled. “You can’t even recognize your own wife’s voice? Looks like those fifteen years have taught you absolutely nothing!” The other end went silent again, but this time it was a stunned silence. I pressed on, my voice like steel. “I don’t care what hole you’ve crawled into. You have thirty minutes to get your ass over here. If you’re not here, you might as well be dead to me.” I hung up, the finality of the click echoing in the quiet street. The woman who’d lent me the phone was staring at me, her eyes wide. I managed a weak, apologetic smile and handed it back. She took it, hesitating. “Excuse me… but were you talking to Jerry Knight? From the Knight Corporation? I’m so sorry, you had it on speaker, and his voice sounded so much like…” I blinked, then nodded slowly. “You know him?” She let out a breath, a knowing look on her face. “Who in Rockhaven doesn’t know about the Crown Prince of Knight Corp?” Seeing my interest, she must have mistaken me for an old friend of his and launched into the city’s favorite gossip. “It was so tragic, you know. After Mrs. Knight died in childbirth, she left behind a daughter. Everyone thought he’d remarry soon, especially with his old flame, Evelyn Vance, making such a huge comeback to the States. But then… a few years after he built Knight Corp into an empire, he just… vanished. Announced he was retreating from public life. No one knows where he is, though he sometimes shows up at the annual gala. But…” “But what?” I pressed. “Well, this is just a rumor,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “but people are saying he and Evelyn Vance are getting close again. Everyone’s betting he’ll finally come back to the world for her. I mean, she’s an Oscar-winning actress now. What man could resist that?” A bitter smile twisted my lips. “Looks like I came back just in time to crash a wedding.” The woman saw the storm cloud on my face and quickly made her excuses, scurrying away. Two daggers to the heart in less than an hour. A wave of grief, sharp and suffocating, washed over me. If Jerry had really moved on, if he and his old flame were truly in love, I wouldn’t fight it. I had no right to ask him to be a widower for fifteen years. But my daughter… I hadn’t even seen her yet. I had no idea how she was. Knowing Jerry, I had a good idea of where he’d send her. Our old alma mater. I stepped out of the cab and saw the familiar wrought-iron gates of the prestigious academy. Just then, a cacophony of jeers and cruel laughter cut through the afternoon air. My head snapped toward the sound. A group of sneering teenagers with bleached-out hair were dragging a girl with short, dark hair out of the school gates. She kept her head bowed, her shoulders slumped in defeat. It was bullying, plain and simple. I frowned. This was supposed to be the best private school in the city. How could this be happening in broad daylight? Something about the short-haired girl felt achingly familiar. An invisible string pulled me forward, and I followed them from a distance. They shoved her into a grimy, forgotten alley. The ringleader, a girl with a deceptively pretty face, stepped forward. What she did next made my blood run cold. She drove her foot into the small of the girl’s back, sending her sprawling onto the filthy concrete. “I heard Uncle Jerry got you a huge birthday present,” the pretty girl sneered. “Why don’t you show it to everyone?” The girl on the ground clutched her backpack to her chest, her body trembling. “You can’t have it!” Another vicious kick. The pretty girl’s face twisted into a mask of pure malice, a look far too ugly for someone so young. She spat on the ground next to the girl’s head. “Don’t be a bitch, Sierra Knight.” The name. Sierra. It was as if a giant, icy hand had closed around my heart and squeezed. Before she was born, Jerry and I had already chosen her name. My eyes shot to the girl on the ground. Even with her face half-hidden by her hair, I could see the defiant glint in her eyes. And her features… they were a perfect echo of my own. My daughter. It could only be her. The ringleader, bored with the game, issued a new command to her cronies. “Grab her bag. And take her shirt off. Let’s teach her a lesson she won’t forget.” My vision narrowed. The last shred of my composure burned away, replaced by a singular, blinding rage. All I wanted was to tear these monsters limb from limb. So this is the life you’ve given our daughter, Jerry. I spotted a discarded wooden plank near a dumpster. Without a second thought, I snatched it up, stormed into the alley, and shoved the crowd aside, planting myself in front of Sierra. The pretty girl, Chloe, jumped back, her eyes widening in shock when she saw my face. Then, a flicker of recognition turned into rage. “Who the hell are you? This is none of your business! Get lost, or we’ll beat the crap out of you, too!” “Shut up,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “None of you are walking out of here.” A bunch of kids who hadn’t even learned to shave. When I fought off a team of armed kidnappers to save Jerry, they probably weren’t even born yet. I rolled my shoulders, relieved to find this body was still in its twenties. Otherwise, this might have actually been a challenge. A few minutes later, the alley was filled with the groans of teenagers scattered across the ground. I pinned Chloe’s face to the grimy concrete with my boot, grinding it down for good measure. It still wasn’t enough. I drew my foot back and kicked her hard in the stomach, twice. One for each time she’d kicked my daughter. Chloe coughed up a spray of blood, her body twitching. The arrogant smirk was long gone. “My mom…” she choked out, her words slurred. “My mom won’t let you get away with this… Uncle Jerry won’t let you get away with this!” “Oh, really? And who’s your mother?” I asked, savoring her pathetic state. “Tell me. I’d love to know what kind of trash raises a little monster like you.” “Her mom… her mom is Evelyn Vance.” The voice came from behind me, small and trembling. It was Sierra. She tugged gently at the corner of my jacket, her eyes wide with fear. “Miss, you should go. If her mom finds out… you’ll be in danger…” That name again. Evelyn Vance. The pieces clicked into place, and a cold dread settled in my stomach. Now I understood. Overcome with a fierce, protective love, I pulled Sierra into my arms, stroking her soft hair. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I whispered, my heart aching. “Don’t be scared. Mama’s here to protect you.” Sierra’s eyes widened. She stared up at me, her lips parting in a silent question. “Mama…? Are… are you my mama?” They say a mother and child share a bond that transcends words, an instinct that lies deeper than memory. In that moment, looking into her eyes—my eyes—I knew she believed me. I helped her to her feet, and together we walked out of that dark alley, only to be met by an unwelcome ghost from my past. “Dad… what are you doing here?” Sierra whispered, shrinking back. Speak of the devil. I looked up. The man standing before us was almost unchanged. He was broader in the shoulders, his presence more formidable, but it was him. It was as if fifteen years had barely left a trace on him. “Jerry,” I said, my voice flat. “Long time no see.” The moment his eyes met mine, they filled with a raw, desperate emotion. His hand trembled as he reached out, as if to touch my face, only to snatch it back like he’d been burned. “Anna…” he stammered, his voice choked. “It’s really you. You’re back.” I felt Sierra’s hand tighten on my arm, a silent plea. My gaze hardened. My coldness seemed to snap Jerry out of his trance, making him finally aware of the scene around us—the groaning teenagers, the bloodied girl crawling towards him. “Jerry, save me!” Chloe wailed, reaching for his leg. “Kill this psycho bitch! She tried to kill me!” Jerry’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her, his expression hardening with annoyance. “You again?” I cut him off. “What’s the matter? Going to kill me to avenge your precious old flame’s daughter?” His frown deepened. “What old flame? You know perfectly well I don’t have one.” “I don’t have the time or the energy to care about your love life, Jerry. But you… you’ve disappointed me more than I can possibly say.” I turned, pulling Sierra with me, and tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. His eyes were bloodshot, so red it looked like they might start bleeding. “Don’t you dare leave,” he roared, his voice raw with a pain that had been festering for fifteen years. “You are not leaving me again!” SMACK! The sound was sharp, explosive. The alley fell utterly silent. The whimpering teenagers froze. Even Sierra’s jaw dropped. Jerry’s head was snapped to the side, a red mark blooming on his cheek. He stared at me, stunned. I gritted my teeth. “Our daughter is being tormented, and you’re what? Oblivious? Or did you just not care?” SMACK! Another sharp crack echoed as my hand met his other cheek. Tears began to stream down his face, silent and heavy. “Too busy for your own child,” I continued, my voice shaking with rage, “but plenty of time for your old flame, making headlines all over the city. How pathetic are you?” SMACK! The third and final slap. I jabbed a finger at his chest, my eyes boring into his. “Jerry Knight, is this how you mourn me?”

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The day my husband discovered my Rebirth System, wounds began appearing on my body. It wasn’t until I left a glass of milk unfinished that I understood. As dizziness set in, I felt him wheeling me into his sterile, underground operating room. I watched him inject a needle into my vein, murmuring, “She’ll never know I’m taking a little blood.” Then he drove a bone marrow aspirator into my hip. “Just a sample for Willow. To give her a new life. It’s fine.” I struggled against the restraints, a silent scream in my throat. He held me down and plunged a scalpel into my chest, methodically removing my heart. He caressed my agonized face, whispering gently, “Sera, don’t hate me. You can be reborn. But Willow only has one life. Your heart for hers is a worthy trade.” I died and reborn in that room. Six times. A cycle of torment. Until the day he looked at my unblemished skin and said, “Willow loves beauty. I can’t let her live with scars. This is our fault. We owe her this. I promise, this is the last time.” I curled on the cold floor and laughed a hollow, chilling laugh. He didn’t know. Every piece of me he harvested, he traded with a piece of his own soul. 1 The surgical light was a blinding sun. Under its glare, Damian’s long, elegant fingers gripped the scalpel, slicing through the layers of skin and muscle over my chest. White-hot pain exploded through my body, a nova of agony that threatened to swallow me whole. Damian’s eyes were fixed on my heart with a covetous gleam, yet his voice was a lover’s murmur. “Don’t be afraid, Sera. Just close your eyes and sleep. When you wake up, it will all be over.” “Willow’s heart is failing,” he continued, his voice laced with a tragic urgency. “She can’t wait any longer.” Tears I couldn’t control slipped from the corners of my eyes. For the sake of Willow, he was going to kill me. Again. I stared down at the gaping wound, at the flesh peeled back without a single drop of blood, and my whole body trembled. “Damian, you’ve already taken every organ I can spare and given it to her. My heart is all I have left. Without it, I’ll be nothing more than a living corpse. I’m begging you, don’t do this to me. Don’t be so cruel.” A gentle, almost beautiful smile touched his lips. “Sera, I know Willow is your adopted sister, but she grew up with you. Don’t be so selfish.” “You have the gift of rebirth,” he reasoned, his voice calm and hypnotic. “These things… they mean nothing to you. But to Willow? They mean life itself.” I bit my lip so hard I thought it would break, but the pain was nothing compared to the chasm opening in my chest. I couldn’t understand. I would never understand how the man who once treated me like spun glass, who swore he’d never let me feel a moment of pain, could now carve me up piece by piece, over and over again. The truth, of course, was simple. He just didn’t love me that much. My vision swam with unshed tears as I made one last plea. “But I’m made of flesh and blood, Damian. I can still feel pain!” To ensure the “transplant material” was perfect, he never used anesthetic. Every time I died, the agony was absolute. A bone-deep torment that repeated itself every few days. There is no hell, but I was living in it. Damian looked down, and for a moment, his eyes were chips of ice. “Sera, it’s just a little pain. It will be over in a moment. But if Willow dies, she’s gone from this world forever.” His face clouded over, lost in a memory. He leaned against the wall, his voice rising to a tortured cry. “Willow loved me, but I chose you. If we hadn’t gotten together, she never would have been so heartbroken, never would have gone out drinking that night. That fire… it never would have happened.” “When they pulled her out, her organs were failing. We did this to her, Sera! We’re the ones who destroyed her!” The absurdity of it almost made me laugh. He was one of a dozen men who orbited Willow, yet he’d cast himself as the tragic hero of her unrequited love story. The fire? Willow had been partying with a group of shady guys, came home high as a kite, and set the fire herself. She had minor burns, nothing close to organ failure. These were basic facts, things even I knew. There was no way Damian, a world-class surgeon, didn’t know the truth. He simply chose not to. Because in his heart, Willow mattered more. So he sacrificed me on the altar of his belated, manufactured love. He came back to my side, his expression shifting back to its usual placid warmth. He even leaned down and pressed a kiss to my sweat-drenched forehead. “I’m sorry I yelled, Sera.” “Be a good girl now. Close your eyes. It will be quick.” My eyes widened in terror as he reached into the cavity of my chest. His hands closed around my heart, and with a sickening, final twist, he pulled. My body felt like it was being torn in two. I convulsed on the table, a scream ripping through the sterile air as sweat and tears streamed down my face. The familiar suffocation returned, an invisible hand closing around my throat, squeezing the life from me. My vision blurred. My lungs burned for air. Through the haze, I saw Damian place my heart into a sterile container, a look of grim satisfaction on his face. He left nothing but a black, gaping hole where my life used to be. My sight faded to black. Just before the end, I thought I heard him on the phone. “Willow, don’t you worry. I’m going to give you the most perfect gift.” I tried to speak, to scream, to curse his name, but no sound came. Darkness consumed me. And then, a cold, mechanical voice, the System that had long been dormant inside me, finally spoke. “You bound yourself to me to save his life once. Was it worth it?” 2 I don’t know how much time passed. When I opened my eyes again, Damian was standing over me, meticulously stitching the wound on my chest closed. His technique was flawless, the sutures perfect. The pain was gone, replaced by a hollow numbness where my heart should have been. He gently wiped the few stray smudges from my skin and lifted me into his arms. “It’s over, Sera. It’s all over. Let’s go home.” His voice was soft, reassuring. “Willow is being discharged today. She’ll be so happy to see you.” My eyes were swollen and raw. A stiff, dead smile spread across my face. Home? I didn’t have a home. The beautiful house that once held the warmth of our life together was now his and Willow’s love nest. I tried to twist away, but he held me firmly in the passenger seat of the car. “Behave,” he commanded softly. I was too weak to fight. I let him drive me back to that place. As we walked in, Willow emerged, her face partially hidden by a silk scarf. “Sister,” she said, her voice frail. “I’ve missed you so much.” I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I just stared at my own feet. Damian’s finger jabbed into my freshly stitched wound. “Seraphina.” Pain flared, and I crumpled to the floor. Instantly, he was all concern, scooping me up, his hands checking me over with frantic care. “Sera, are you hurt? Did you fall?” That single, hypocritical question made all the humiliation, all the agony, curdle into a toxic knot in my gut. I was broken. Damian sighed and turned to Willow, stroking her cheek. “Willow, why don’t you go rest. I need to prepare your gift.” Willow cast a timid, fearful glance at me before turning and disappearing down the hall. Damian carried me to a room I’d never seen before, a room locked from the outside. The air was thick with the suffocating smell of bitter herbs. He lifted the heavy lid off a massive wooden tub. “In you go, Sera,” he whispered in my ear. I looked down into the tub, and a bloodcurdling scream tore from my throat. It was filled with a writhing, slithering mass of venomous creatures. Snakes, spiders, centipedes… a tangled knot of fangs and pincers, all biting and crawling over each other. I shook so violently I thought my bones would shatter, my face as white as a sheet. The dim light cast his face in haunting shadows. He stepped closer. “Sera, don’t be afraid.” His voice was a soothing balm over a festering wound. “This is a special treatment. An ancient, forbidden ritual. It’s the only way to heal your scars.” “Once you endure this,” he promised, “your skin will be reborn. Perfect.” A wave of nausea and cold dread washed over me. I stumbled back. “So… you’re waiting for my skin to become perfect… so you can graft it onto Willow?” Damian nodded, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. I fought back the terror, the rage, and my voice came out as a bitter sneer. “Why go to all this trouble? If it’s such a great method, why not let Willow try it herself?” He shook his head, his expression earnest and pleading. “Don’t say such things, Sera.” “It’s a tub full of poison. How could Willow possibly endure such agony?” He took my hand and placed it over his own heart. “But you’re different. My Sera is strong. You’ve survived losing your heart, your kidneys. What’s a little more pain?” His lips were at my ear, his whisper a hypnotic poison. “Please, Sera. I’m begging you.” “I swear to you, this is the last time. I just want to give Willow the most perfect twentieth birthday gift.” I stood frozen, the empty space in my chest throbbing with a phantom pain, as if poison thorns were growing from the inside out. My lips trembled, but no more tears would come. “Damian, Willow is flesh and blood, but so am I!” My voice was a raw, broken thing. “I don’t die, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain!” “You’ve given her everything that was mine. Now you want to peel off my very skin? How can you be so monstrously cruel?” A crushing weight settled on my chest, and I collapsed. “Willow’s accident has nothing to do with me. I won’t give her anything else.” I looked at him, my eyes bloodshot, a final plea in my voice. “This isn’t for me, Damian. It’s for you.” “If I die at your hands a seventh time, the System will initiate a settlement. A final accounting. You will pay a price you cannot even imagine.” 3 Damian stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, a faint, condescending smile touched his lips. “Oh, Sera. You’re not behaving. To think you’d invent such a ridiculous story just to avoid helping Willow.” “If you insist on being difficult,” he sighed, “then I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you.” He pressed a button on the wall, and a moment later, a servant led a dog into the room. My breath caught in my throat. “Goldie!” The old golden retriever caught my scent, his tail thumping wildly as he tried to run to me, but Damian held him fast. Damian stroked the dog’s head, his voice soft with regret. “If it wasn’t for Willow, I would never dream of hurting him. Goldie has been with you since you were a child. He’s family.” “But if you refuse…” His gentle eyes suddenly hardened into flint. In one swift, brutal motion, he brought a knife down. One of Goldie’s ears fell to the floor. The dog let out a piercing shriek of pain and confusion, blood matting his golden fur. He had never imagined his master, his loyal companion, could do such a thing. “NO!” My scream merged with Goldie’s agonized cries. “Damian, what have you become?! Have you forgotten? During the earthquake, when you were buried in the rubble, it was Goldie who dug you out! He shredded his paws to save you! How can you treat him like this? You’re a monster!” A flicker of something—pity, perhaps—crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “If you weren’t being so stubborn, Goldie would be living out his days in peace. The one causing his pain right now… isn’t that you?” His shameless logic stole the air from my lungs. “Don’t you understand? I’m trying to save you!” “If you force me to die a seventh time, you will regret it for all eternity!” He just shook his head, idly flipping the bloody knife in his hand. “All I want is to grant Willow one wish. I will regret nothing, no matter the cost.” And with that, he plunged the knife into Goldie’s eye. Another horrifying scream echoed in the small room. A thick, red tear trickled down the dog’s face. I stood paralyzed, hate growing inside me like a cancer, a black and living thing. “Still not convinced?” Damian sighed, and drove the knife into Goldie’s other eye. “Stop! Please, stop!” I sobbed, crawling to Goldie’s side. Damian’s voice was flat, clinical. “Don’t forget, I’m the best surgeon in the world. I know ten thousand ways to keep him alive in excruciating pain.” I pulled the trembling, bleeding dog into my arms, holding him tight. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice dead. “I’ll do it.” Then, I closed my eyes and stepped into the tub. Damian let out a breath of relief and sealed the lid shut. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Sera.” In the suffocating darkness, the creatures sensed my warmth. They swarmed over me, their fangs and stingers sinking into my flesh. This was a new kind of pain. Worse than being flayed, worse than being dismembered. It was a searing, soul-shredding agony. My head felt like it was splitting open as their venom flooded my system, a million needles driving straight into my marrow. Outside, the blind dog could only hear my muffled screams. He hurled himself against the wooden tub, biting and clawing at it, trying desperately to save me. It was useless. As the pain reached an unbearable crescendo, I closed my eyes for the last time.

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I had a deal with the billionaire CEO, Isabelle Duke. After I proposed to her for the ninety-ninth time, she would meet me at City Hall on the one-hundredth. But on that day, Isabelle didn’t show up. Instead, she was at a sold-out concert with her pet project, a young starlet named Asher Cole. A clip of them sharing a sweet, lingering kiss for the jumbotron camera went viral, and a new trending topic was born. At the same time, I went viral for a different reason. The man who stood alone at the steps of City Hall for the one-hundredth time. Everyone was guessing who the mysterious, unseen woman could be. And they were all betting on how long it would be until I made proposal number one hundred and one. When Isabelle finally realized she’d broken our promise, she was consumed by a rare wave of guilt. She swore to me that she would be there for the one hundred and first time. But when she arrived at City Hall, a vision in a custom-made wedding gown, her phone buzzed with a text from me. “Isabelle, there won’t be a one hundred and first time. We’re over. Goodbye.” 1. I proposed to Isabelle Duke one hundred times. And every single time I stood on the cold stone steps of City Hall, she would be somewhere else with her latest flame, making a spectacle of their new love. Maybe it was an amusement park. Maybe it was a concert. Once, it was even at City Hall itself, getting a marriage license just for the thrill of it, only to file for divorce the next day. A quick hit of adrenaline. The one thing I dreamed of, the one thing I ached for, was nothing but a game to her. I shut off my phone and sat on the curb, waiting for the car I’d called. A long time passed. The car never came, but a call from Isabelle did. The moment I answered, her voice, sharp and cold as ice, cut through the phone. “It’s late. Why aren’t you home? Don’t you think about how it looks, my fiancé staying out all night?” “Where are you?” she demanded. I said nothing. The old me would have folded instantly, my voice soft and apologetic as I explained myself. But now… now I couldn’t be bothered to speak. A flicker of annoyance crept into her tone. “Leo, are you mute?” “City Hall,” I said, my voice flat. Isabelle went silent. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she finally, finally remembered the promise she’d made. That after ninety-nine proposals at the steps of City Hall, she would appear on the one-hundredth and say yes. But today, she had chosen to go to a concert with Asher Cole. “I… wait for me. I’ll come get you.” She hung up. I cancelled the ride. Not because I had any hope left for her, but because the weather had turned. A sudden, heavy snow began to fall. I stood on the corner, shivering in the biting wind. The abrupt cold was brutal on my phone’s battery; it died within three hours. Isabelle never came. The last thing I saw before the screen went dark was a new post on Asher Cole’s Instagram story. A selfie of him and Isabelle in front of her car, her profile half-turned to the camera as snowflakes dusted her hair. The caption read: “One snowfall together, a lifetime to go.” In the reflection of the dead screen, I saw myself smile. A real smile. One of release. On the day of our one-hundredth promise, she chose him. As I waited for her in a snowstorm, she was making memories with him. I had given her five years of my life, waiting for a single promise. In the end, it turned to ash. Isabelle Duke, I’m done waiting. 2. That night, I didn’t go home. I dragged my frozen body two hours through the snow to the nearest hotel. Isabelle didn’t send a single text. Didn’t make a single call. The next morning, I was at the office early, drafting my resignation. Isabelle was the founder of the company. I was just a business manager. I’d been by her side since she had nothing, yet even now, with her empire built, my presence felt just as insignificant. If I vanished, she wouldn’t even notice. Just as my pen was about to form the last letter of my name, Isabelle appeared behind me. I met her gaze in the reflection of my monitor, my expression placid, and calmly switched screens as if nothing had happened. “What are you writing?” she asked, her voice crisp. “Nothing. Just some client contracts.” Her brow furrowed slightly. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and walked toward her office. “Leo, my office. Now.” The moment I was gone, the office erupted in hushed whispers. “It’s over for him. Leo’s about to get reamed out by Ms. Duke again.” In this company, everyone knew Asher Cole was the heir apparent. No one knew I was her fiancé. In her office, Isabelle looked at me, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Is it really that big of a deal? I didn’t pick you up, so you decided not to come home at all? Are you trying to make a scene?” I shook my head. “The snow was too heavy. It wasn’t safe to drive.” It was the truth, but it was also an excuse. The real reason was that I never wanted to go back. I wanted to leave for good. Isabelle didn’t seem to notice the shift in me. After a moment of silence, she said, “About the proposal… I accept.” She slid an envelope across her desk. “Tonight. With me.” They were front-row tickets to my favorite classical orchestra. I knew it was her way of compensating me, a transaction. I thought about it, then took the tickets. After all, it was a debt she owed me. Seeing my silence, Isabelle opened her mouth to say something else, but a sharp ring from her phone cut her off. She glanced at the screen and her entire demeanor changed. She left the room without another word. I knew who it was. It had to be Asher. He was the only one who could make Isabelle Duke drop everything. Before I left her office, I printed my resignation letter and took it to VP Evans. He looked at the letter, then at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “Leo, you’re resigning? Is this because of Ms. Duke?” I pressed my lips together. It was almost funny. They all thought I was leaving because I couldn’t handle a scolding. They had no idea it was because my heart had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces. When I nodded, VP Evans let out a long sigh and signed the form. As I was walking out of the building, I ran straight into Isabelle and Asher. The entire city knew he was her prized possession. Isabelle’s eyes darkened when she saw me. “Leo, whatever it is, report it later.” She started to walk past me, Asher in tow. As he passed, he shot me a look that was pure venom, a clear warning. I said nothing. That evening, I went to the concert on time. The hall was packed, every seat filled except for the one beside me. Isabelle’s seat. In the past, I would have waited for her in the lobby, no matter how late she was. This time, I went in alone. The music was beautiful. By the time it ended, she still hadn’t arrived. I wasn’t angry. My five years had already been wasted. What was one more broken promise? Whether she ever saw my resignation letter or not, it didn’t matter. My decision was made. 3. After the concert, I didn’t go home. I wandered along the waterfront, watching the city lights glitter on the dark water. The sky suddenly exploded in a cascade of fireworks. A brilliant, booming rain of light. It didn’t stir a single thing in me. My phone, however, was blowing up. Not with worried texts from Isabelle, but with news alerts. The fireworks were for Asher. A city-wide birthday present from her. It was after midnight when I finally returned to the penthouse. The living room lights were on. Isabelle was asleep on the sofa. Was she waiting for me? For five years, it had always been the other way around. She’d come home drunk, and I’d be the one waiting up, calling her a dozen times, a pot of ginger tea ready on the stove to soothe her stomach. She always told me she hated it when I did that. She said it made her feel old. The sound of the door must have woken her. She shot up, saw me, and rushed over, throwing her arms around me. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was about to call the police!” I froze, then gently extricated myself from her grip and pulled out my phone. The screen was black. “It got too cold. The battery died.” The mention of the snow seemed to remind her. A rare look of guilt flickered across her face. She bit her lip, then awkwardly thrust a small, velvet box at me. I took it automatically. Inside was a diamond ring. For a moment, I was stunned. How many times had I dreamed of this? Of Isabelle, standing on the steps of City Hall, holding out her hand for me to slide this very ring onto her finger. But that was the old me. Now, I felt nothing. I closed the lid and casually tossed the box onto the coffee table. “Thanks.” Isabelle stared at me, her beautiful brow furrowed. She couldn’t comprehend my polite detachment. “What’s wrong with you?” I glanced at her, and a strange sort of clarity washed over me. I knew what she’d expected. She thought I’d gasp, that my eyes would fill with tears of joy, that I would forget all the pain and humiliation and fall at her feet. A humorless smirk twisted my lips. I decided to give her what she wanted. “Oh,” I said, my voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “Wow. I’m so happy!” I looked her dead in the eye. “Satisfied?” I thought that would be the end of it, but my sarcasm only angered her. “Leo, is this necessary? All I did was show Asher around the office.” “And I already said I’d marry you. How long are you going to keep this act up?” Her dark expression didn’t faze me. I just plugged my phone in to charge. “You’re mistaken. I’m not acting. I’m just tired.” Her face tightened. For the first time, she seemed to register the profound, unbreachable distance in my attitude. She bit her lip and reached for my hand. Just then, my newly-charging phone began to ring, a frantic, urgent sound that made her flinch. It was him. She looked at me, about to offer an explanation, but I spoke first. “You’re busy. You don’t have to explain. I get it.” My understanding seemed to stun her more than my anger ever could have. She gripped my hand tighter, a desperate need in her eyes to understand what had changed. But the phone kept ringing. Finally, under my calm, steady gaze, she let go. “The one hundred and first proposal,” she said, her voice strained. “I’ll be there.” Then she was gone. I went to my room as if nothing had happened, and had the best night’s sleep I’d had in five years. Once my handover at work was complete, Isabelle Duke would never see me again. 4. When I got to the office, my colleague Mike pulled me aside before I could even get to my desk. “Leo, man, you’re in for it today.” I looked at him, confused. I was already a ghost here. What trouble could I possibly be in? Mike pointed ahead. My desk, my space for the last five years, was now occupied by Asher Cole. He explained that today was Asher’s first official day. When it came time to pick a desk, he’d pointed directly at mine. I walked over calmly. Asher looked up as I approached, a smug, dismissive smirk on his face. “I like this spot. You can go find somewhere else.” I looked at him and nodded. “Okay. I just need to pack my things.” My lack of protest was misinterpreted by everyone watching. They saw a man defeated, bowing to the new favorite. No one dared to say anything, but the air was thick with their pitying glances and whispered comments. I finished packing the last of my personal items into a cardboard box. Just as I was about to leave, Isabelle appeared. Asher immediately rushed to her side, taking her hand. Isabelle allowed it, leading him to the center of the office. “Everyone, this is Asher Cole. He’ll be joining our team starting today. Please make him feel welcome.” A scattered, lukewarm applause filled the room. Isabelle didn’t seem to care. “Have you picked a desk?” she asked him. Asher immediately pointed. “I want that one!” Following his finger, Isabelle’s gaze landed on my old desk, and then on me, standing beside it with a box in my arms. Her expression faltered. “That spot is taken,” she said, her voice tight. “Pick another.” To everyone’s surprise, she had refused him. But Asher was determined. He clung to her arm, whining like a spoiled child. “But Izzy, I want that one. It’s closer to your office. I can see you from there.” I had no interest in watching their soap opera unfold. “He can have the desk,” I said, my voice clear and even. I was leaving. What did I care about a stupid desk? Asher shot Isabelle a triumphant look. “See? He’s fine with it.” Isabelle’s gaze snapped to me, her expression unreadable but dark. She turned back to Asher, her eyes now cold as steel. “I said, that desk is taken. Choose another.” The Isabelle who spoiled him, who indulged his every whim, was gone. In her place was a furious CEO. Asher was so stunned he didn’t know how to react. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Isabelle gave me one last, fleeting glance, then turned on her heel and stalked back to her office. Asher scrambled to follow her, but not before shooting me a hateful glare over his shoulder. It was funny. I used to be him, always one step behind her, chasing a shadow. The only difference was, I chased it for five years. As I was heading for the door, my phone buzzed. A text from Isabelle. [Tomorrow. The 101st proposal. I’ll be waiting.] I smiled, blocked her number, and deleted her contact. After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I walked out of that building for the last time. I went home, picked up my already-packed suitcase, and went to the airport. The next day, Isabelle Duke, dressed in a stunning white gown, arrived at City Hall.

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The moment my birth parents found me, bringing the girl who had stolen my life with them, I had a wild Siberian tiger pinned to the forest floor, my knee pressed firmly against its neck as I injected a tranquilizer. They saw me, covered in dirt, taming a predator with my bare hands, and their faces went white with terror. My sister—the girl who had taken my place—was pale with fear. “Mom, Dad, I’m scared! We came to find my sister, but… what is that beast doing here?” My parents shot a wary glance at the tiger, then rushed to comfort their precious fake daughter. “Don’t worry, Vivian, darling,” my mother cooed. “We’re only taking your sister home. We’re not bringing… that… with us.” They instinctively shielded Vivian behind them, as if I were more dangerous than the man-eater at my feet. I let out a short, sharp laugh, patting the tiger’s belly. My gaze fell on Vivian, cold as ice. “You should be scared. Drop any ridiculous ideas you have, or I’ll tear you to pieces.” 1. The air was thick with a dead silence, broken only by the low growl of the beast beneath me. The impeccably dressed middle-aged couple stared in horror at the fanged tiger, their legs trembling. They instinctively shielded the terrified girl, Vivian, taking shuffling steps backward. Tears welled in the woman’s eyes, her voice shaking. “Arden! This is your sister! We all came to take you home. How could you say such a thing?” She wanted to step closer but was paralyzed by the sight of the predator. Her eyes flickered over my worn, tattered clothes, and a flash of disgust crossed her face. I ignored them, finished injecting the sedative, and released the pressure on the tiger. Then, I turned my cold gaze to the uninvited guests. “Isn’t this my home?” The porcelain doll of a girl behind them, who looked to be my age, trembled even more violently. The man, holding her hand tightly, spoke in a panicked voice. “Arden, I’m your biological father, Richard Vance. It was our mistake when you were born… we took home the wrong child. All these years, you’ve suffered out here…” His voice caught with a sob. “We’re here today to bring you home. We’ll make up for all our past negligence…” “Which home?” I cut him off with a sneer, my eyes sweeping over to Vivian. She immediately wiped the venom from her expression, her eyes turning red as she shrank behind the man I now knew was my brother, Ethan. Vivian was the daughter of their former nanny. Twenty years ago, we were born on the same day. To give her own child a better life, the nanny swapped us, dreaming her daughter would become the Vance family heiress. As for me, she tossed me into the deep mountains like a piece of trash, meant to be fodder for wild beasts. Fortunately, I was born with the ability to communicate with animals. It’s how I survived. It’s how I became the Queen of the Beasts. This forest… this is my real home. “Sister… I didn’t mean for this to happen…” Vivian stammered, her face ashen. My mother, who had supposedly come to beg me to return, rushed to her side. “Vivian, darling, this has nothing to do with you. When she comes back, you’ll just have an older sister to protect you. You’ll always be Mommy and Daddy’s precious baby!” Ethan’s face was grim as he stared at me. “Isn’t Vivian a victim in all this, too? We’re all family now. Can’t you stop picking at her wounds?” Richard’s tone grew impatient. “Just come with us. The Vance family can certainly afford to raise you. We can’t have people thinking we’d abandon our own daughter…” Watching their synchronized performance was grating. It was as if my very existence was a threat to their happy family. If it weren’t for their precious reputation, would they have ever even remembered they had a biological daughter? But the life I’d lived had forged me into something far stronger than the delicate flower they saw. I saw the dark, vicious glint in Vivian’s eyes, and I smiled. If I can tame a tiger, how hard can it be to handle a pampered little princess? I was done with their phony sentimentality. I pointed to the beast on the ground, now licking its paws. “Fine. I’ll go back with you. But he comes with me.” “Absolutely not!” My mother’s face drained of color. My father’s brow furrowed. “That’s absurd! What if he…” Ethan met the tiger’s gaze for half a second and immediately backed down. “That’s… that’s too dangerous, Arden. Anything you want, I’ll buy it for you when we get back. Just… let’s not do this…” Vivian burst into tears. “Brother, I’m scared! I don’t want a beast in our house!” I ignored her double-edged comment, casually stroking the tiger’s fur. “Scared already? He’s much better behaved than some of the two-faced cubs in these mountains.” My voice hardened. “And he’s not a beast. He’s my only family.” I looked at my so-called parents. “You want me in your gilded cage? Fine. But we play by my rules.” “Either he and I walk through the Vance family doors together…” “Or you can all go back the way you came.” The silence stretched for a full ten seconds. “Daddy! Mommy! You see?!” Vivian’s wail shattered the quiet. She clutched Ethan’s arm, her body trembling, her head bowed to avoid looking at me and the tiger. “If sister doesn’t want to come home, she should just say so! What good does it do to scare you and Mom to death? Ethan, let’s just go, please… I’m so, so scared…” She peeked at their reactions through her fingers. My parents’ faces were storm clouds. Between the tiger’s low growl and Vivian’s crying, Richard’s resolve crumbled. “This is ridiculous! It’s a wild animal! Who will be responsible if it hurts someone?” “I will,” I answered flatly. My mother, Eleanor, shrieked at the sight of the tiger’s claws. “Can you afford to be responsible? Arden, look at what you’ve done to Vivian! You’ve terrified her!” “Mom!” Ethan looked from the sobbing Vivian to me, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Dad, Mom, let’s calm down. Maybe Arden…” Vivian looked at Ethan in disbelief, her wails escalating into a desperate shriek. “Ethan! It will eat people! …I get it. If you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave as soon as she comes home…” She had been showered with affection her whole life; the mere suggestion of her leaving sent them into a panic. I watched, my eyes cold, as a triumphant, malicious glint appeared in Vivian’s. “So, have you decided? The tranquilizer is wearing off. My family is getting impatient.” As if on cue, the tiger let out a deep, rumbling growl, sending them all stumbling backward in fear. My father’s expression was ugly. He looked from Vivian to me, clearly weighing his options. “I agree,” he finally ground out. “But it stays in a cage! If anything happens, you are fully responsible, and then you get the hell out of our house!” He flinched as the tiger shifted. “Now, make it be quiet!” “Richard!” my mother gasped, shooting a pained look at Vivian. Vivian’s eyes were filled with tears. “Daddy! It’s going to hurt someone! And when it does…” Richard’s gaze darted to the tiger, his voice low and final. “Enough! This is how it will be!” Vivian’s crying stopped instantly, though her shoulders still trembled with feigned distress. When we arrived at the villa, the servants screamed and scattered at the sight of the tiger. Click. I led the tiger into an iron cage in the backyard and locked it. Vivian sidled up to me, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. “A beast is a beast. Even a tiger has to live in a dog kennel if it enters the Vance home. Everything here is mine. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get lost.” I stared at her without a word, then let out a sharp whistle. The tiger’s head shot up. A threatening rumble emanated from its throat as it lunged at the bars, its massive jaws snapping at Vivian. She screamed, scrambling backward, and tripped, landing hard on the ground. “Ahhh! It’s getting out! It’s going to eat me!” she shrieked, tears and snot streaming down her face. “She did it on purpose! She’s trying to kill me!” My parents came running. “Vivian! Are you alright?!” My mother helped her up, her voice a furious hiss directed at me. “Arden! Are you happy now that you’ve made her cry? How can you be so vicious?” My father’s face was ashen with rage. “You haven’t been here a day and you’re already causing chaos!” Ethan stood protectively in front of Vivian, his eyes filled with disappointment. Vivian, gasping for breath, continued her slander. “She… she told me… that she’s the real heiress and that I should get out… or she’d let the tiger… eat me… She said there’s only room for one of us in this house…” Her pathetic act was nauseating. I turned my gaze to the cold iron cage. In a way, it was my cage, too. But having grown up in the mountains, I’ve never been afraid of confinement. A little white rabbit raised in a greenhouse, no matter how pitiful it acts, is no match for a tiger from the wild. I didn’t waste my breath arguing. After calming the tiger, a maid, clearly acting on Vivian’s orders, impatiently showed me to my room. Less than ten minutes later, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a new post from Vivian. “Sister, can you please not let the tiger eat me? I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t fight with you over anything.” The accompanying picture was a close-up of her tear-filled, red-rimmed eyes. Below, a flood of comments from clueless netizens offered her sympathy while calling for a witch hunt against the “evil sister.” Soon, hashtags like #VanceHeiressIsFeral and #JusticeForVivian started trending. I ignored the torrent of online abuse, letting out a small, contemptuous laugh. “How predictable.” Vivian, you’ve basked in the Vance family’s resources, but the only world you know is the tiny patch of sky above your head. You have no idea how vast the real world is. My screen lit up with several encrypted messages. “Boss, the Vances are discreetly investigating our organization.” “Abnormal fund transfers detected from Vivian Vance’s account, traced to an offshore shell company.” That evening, a sharp knock rattled my door. Dinner was an exquisite spread, but the entire family fussed over Vivian, treating me like a complete stranger. Richard slammed his phone down in front of me. The screen was filled with hateful comments. “If you hadn’t insisted on bringing that beast back, the Vance family name wouldn’t be getting dragged through the mud like this! Can’t you learn to be more like Vivian?” “Do you have any idea what your selfishness is costing us? A major project is about to fall through because of this!” Vivian’s voice was smugly sarcastic. “Dad, let it go. Sister came from the backwoods, after all. She’s used to being wild. What would she know about business projects?” My mother’s tone was sharp. “That’s no excuse! Now that you’re home, you’ll follow this family’s rules! For starters, we need to change that name. What kind of girl is called ‘Arden’? It’s ridiculous.” Vivian’s laugh was louder this time. “She’s right, Mom. People might think the Vance heiress is some kind of savage…” For once, Ethan didn’t defend Vivian. Instead, he looked at me with a spark of curiosity. “Arden… how did you subdue that tiger? Have you had training? Maybe for this project…” My father’s expression shifted. I set down my fork and knife, my gaze sweeping meaningfully over Vivian. “When you have no one to protect you, you learn to fend for yourself. After a while, you pick up a few skills. And, of course… you learn to watch out for things that might try to bite you from behind.” Vivian’s face went pale. Her chopsticks clattered to the floor. Her eyes, red-rimmed and fearful, locked on mine. “Sister, even if I did take your place, do you have to bring up that… that beast every time? You’re home now. Mom and Dad will protect you. You don’t have to deal with terrifying animals anymore…” My father’s face darkened instantly. “Arden! That’s enough of your wilderness nonsense. You are a Vance now. Learn some grace and dignity from Vivian! Stop associating with that animal and embarrassing this family!” Vivian chimed in sweetly. “It’s okay, sister. I can teach you about posture and etiquette. You can just learn from me. After all, what are sisters for? I just want you to be better, to be more accepted by everyone.” I was about to be sick. “No, thanks,” I scoffed. “I have no desire to become a two-faced hypocrite.” “And by the way,” I added, my voice dropping, “after your real mother abandoned me, it was the ‘beasts’ you so despise that raised me. Don’t you feel disgusted, putting on this good-person act now?” Vivian’s dam of tears finally broke. “I’m so sorry, sister!” she wailed. “I stole your life! If you really hate me this much, I’ll leave right now…” She always used their favoritism to needle me, but I never played her games. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” My parents’ heads snapped up, their eyes wide with shock and alarm. “Vivian! Don’t talk nonsense!” Ethan frowned at me, his face a mask of disappointment. “Arden! You’ve gone too far! Apologize to Vivian right now! Her health has always been delicate. As her older sister, can’t you show her some grace?” Delicate health? More like weaponized fragility. And what did her health have to do with me? Vivian hid in my mother’s arms, but not before flashing me a triumphant smile. I looked down at my phone, at the information displayed on the screen, and a slow smile spread across my face. A hothouse flower, no matter how skilled at silent assassinations, is no match for a predator from the jungle, who kills with a single, decisive strike. “If you’re leaving, you’d better do it quickly. Once the investigation into your little asset transfers is complete, leaving might not be an option.” I leaned forward, my gaze locking onto her like a cold, sharp blade. The color drained from Vivian’s face. Her eyes darted around frantically. “Sister, what are you talking about? What assets? I… I…” “Mommy, Daddy, I don’t know what she’s saying! Why is she always targeting me?” she shrieked, her voice echoing through the dining room, her body trembling with fear. “You don’t know?” I asked calmly, placing a file on the table for them to see. “Then how did I find out about the payments you’ve been making to your birth mother’s offshore account? The most recent one was three days ago, wasn’t it? What was that, hush money? Or were you just trying to bleed the family dry before skipping town?” Her face was a mask of pure terror. She forgot to even cry. “You… you’re lying! Slandering me! I didn’t! Daddy, Mommy, she’s making it all up!” I kept my voice even. “Is it slander? A quick look at the bank records would clear it all up, wouldn’t it?” I tapped the file. “Would you like me to provide the account number and transfer records, my dear sister?” Vivian looked as if she were being strangled, unable to utter a single word. Tears just streamed down her face as she swayed on her feet. As my family read the report, their faces contorted with shock and horror. Vivian, who had been sitting on her throne of privilege just moments before, looked completely and utterly broken. “You see?” I said, my voice soft. “There’s your precious little princess. Surprised?” Amidst their pale faces and Vivian’s broken sobs, I spoke again. My quiet voice was like a clap of thunder, making their expressions even more priceless. “If I recall correctly, the International Wildlife Conservation Summit is next month. The Vance family is desperate to land that key government partnership, right? A bit difficult without the right leverage, isn’t it?” The color drained from my father’s face. His eyes were wide with disbelief and suspicion. “How do you know that?” I smiled. When faced with a lucrative deal, what was their pathetic favoritism for Vivian really worth? “A Siberian tiger, tamed and part of a cutting-edge conservation research program… is currently locked in your dog kennel.” “The access rights and data from the ‘beast’ you so despise… that is the leverage you need to win this international contract.” “And the person who holds that leverage, the one with absolute authority in the world of conservation…” I picked up a dinner knife, tapping the cold steel with my fingertip. The sharp ping echoed in the silent room, a sound of absolute control. “…is the very person you’ve been trying so hard to ‘fix’… me.” My gaze shifted from the catatonic Vivian, finally landing on my dumbfounded, suspicious parents. “So, shall we have a new discussion about who…” “…makes the rules in this house?”

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After building a business empire from scratch, my doctor told me that years of overwork had rendered me unable to have children. To ensure my life’s work would have a successor, I adopted a brilliant boy from a poor background. I funded his MBA, placed him at the core of Sterling Corporation, and groomed him to take my place. Ten years later, his high school sweetheart reappeared as the CEO of a rival company, weeping that she had been forced to leave him all those years ago. Moved beyond reason, and to prove his love, he stole my company’s core secrets and presented them to her as a token of his devotion. “Mom, I owe you everything,” he told me. “But I can’t live without her. If you agree to retire now, I’ll make sure you receive a generous pension.” A pension? I picked up my office intercom, my voice like ice. “Get the legal department on the line. Prepare for litigation. Also, inform the six other candidates hidden across our subsidiaries that the final assessment has begun.” 1 I learned a long time ago not to put all my eggs in one basket. That’s why, like opening a series of blind boxes, I adopted seven gifted children from underprivileged backgrounds all at once. Leah Sterling was the youngest. He was the one I kept by my side, the one I taught personally, the one I invested the most in. I looked at him now—the timid boy I had single-handedly molded into a rising star of the business world. He stood in my office, dressed in an expensive suit I’d had tailored for him, his handsome face a mask of tragic determination. “Mom,” he began, “I’m sorry.” I sipped my coffee, saying nothing. “It’s Ava,” he said, referring to his first love, now the CEO of our main competitor. “She’s back. She told me she had her reasons for leaving me back then! She went away to protect me!” I nearly choked on my coffee. Protect him? Back then, he was so poor he had to think twice before adding an egg to his meal in the cafeteria. What was there to protect? His poverty? His youth? His perpetually unkempt hair? Leah didn’t see the sarcasm in my eyes. He was lost in his own epic love story. “She’s had it so hard, a woman all alone, fighting to get ahead. Now, it’s my turn to protect her.” “And so?” I put down my cup and met his gaze. He took a deep breath and pushed a file across my desk. “This is our company’s core strategic plan for the next three years. I’ve already given a copy to Ava. It’s my commitment to her, a necessary step for our future.” The office was dead silent. As if that weren’t enough, he added, “Mom, you gave me a new life. I’ll never forget that. But I can’t live without her. If you agree to retire now, I’ll have Ava arrange a generous pension for you. You’ll be comfortable for the rest of your life.” A pension? The taxes I paid last quarter alone were enough to buy his girlfriend’s company three times over. Seeing my silence, he must have thought I was considering it. He took a step forward, a hint of a threat in his voice. “Mom, you’re not young anymore. It’s time to enjoy life. I’m doing this for your own good. But if you insist on being stubborn and making things unpleasant for everyone… then I won’t be responsible for you in your old age.” “Hah.” A small, sharp laugh escaped my throat. I finally raised my eyes, my voice devoid of all warmth. “Leah, are you telling me that if I don’t retire, you’ll cut me off?” He stiffened his neck, his expression a perfect blend of reluctance and resolve, as if to say, You’re forcing my hand. “Yes.” “Very well.” I nodded and picked up the intercom on my desk. A flicker of triumph crossed Leah’s face. He thought I was caving, calling the finance department to negotiate the pension amount. My finger pressed a different button. “Get me Legal,” I said, my voice glacial. “Inform them that Leah Sterling is in material breach of his contract. I want the highest-level litigation protocol activated immediately. I want him served with a court summons within twenty-four hours.” The expression on Leah’s face froze solid. Before he could react, I dialed a second number—the direct line to my chief of staff. “Send a top-level encrypted email to my children. Subject: Dividing the Inheritance. Tell them that anyone who doesn’t show up will have all their black cards, trust funds… everything… frozen.” My assistant’s calm, steady voice came through the line, laced with a hint of excitement. “Understood, Ms. Sterling.” I hung up and finally turned my attention back to Leah, who was still standing there, a look of complete bewilderment on his face. I offered him a gentle smile. “No need for the pension. But you might want to worry about yourself,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “After all, prison food might not agree with you.” 2 Leah’s face was a canvas of rapidly shifting emotions—shock, disbelief, utter confusion. After a full thirty seconds, he finally seemed to process the information. Then, he laughed. “Hahaha…” He laughed so hard he bent over, tears welling in his eyes. “Mom, I admit, you almost had me. That’s a brilliant move, trying to pull the rug out from under me!” I raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, content to let him play out his little drama. He stepped forward, pointing at me with absolute certainty. “You think a couple of phone calls will scare me? Make me feel threatened enough to submit to you?” He grew more agitated as he spoke. “Everyone in this corporation knows I’m your sole heir! For ten years, you’ve poured all your resources into me! You can’t function without me! Without me, this entire business empire of yours will collapse!” “Sole heir?” I finally spoke, my voice tinged with weariness. “Leah, your information is out of date.” Just then, the office door was pushed open again, this time without even the courtesy of a knock. Ava Chen strode in, dressed in the latest Chanel suit, her makeup flawless, her chin held high. She slid her arm possessively through Leah’s, her gaze drifting over me with casual disdain. “Auntie Josephine, why must you be so difficult?” she began. “Leah is only thinking of you. You’ve worked your entire life. It’s time to relax, travel the world, enjoy yourself.” Her eyes scanned my office. “This company will be ours now—mine and Leah’s. Don’t you worry. We young people have fresh ideas. We’ll take the company to a whole new level.” Buoyed by her words, Leah’s confidence returned. He stood up straight. “Did you hear that, Josephine? Your era is over! Your archaic management style should have been thrown out years ago!” He glared at me, his voice dripping with arrogance. “I suggest you accept our offer gracefully. Otherwise, once I inherit the corporation, it won’t be so easy to come begging to me!” Ava tapped him playfully on the chest. “Now, now, Leah, is that any way to talk to your mother? She’s worked hard for this company for many years. We, the younger generation, must know how to be grateful.” I looked at the Oscar-worthy performance unfolding before me and finally lost all patience. I picked up the intercom and dialed my assistant. “Arthur,” I said, my voice perfectly calm, betraying no emotion, “please send Security up.” “Right away, Ms. Sterling,” he replied. I hung up, picked up my now-cold coffee, and didn’t even bother to look at them again. “The air purifier in my office has its limits,” I said coolly. “It can’t handle the foul air you’re spewing.” 3 In less than a minute, four burly men in black suits and sunglasses appeared at the door. “Ms. Sterling,” the head of security said with a slight bow. “Please escort these two guests out,” I said, gesturing to the petrified Leah and Ava. “And throw away everything they touched. Including the carpet.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Leah finally snapped out of his stupor, his face flushing red. “Josephine! Don’t you forget, this company’s core technology is all in my head! You do this to me today, and I’ll make the stock price plummet tomorrow!” Ava shrieked, “You can’t touch me! I’m the CEO of Chen Industries! This is unlawful detention!” The head of security acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. He simply gestured, and two of his men moved forward, grabbing one person each and lifting them as if they were a couple of unruly chickens. The entire process was swift and brutally efficient. “Josephine! You’ll regret this! You heartless old woman!” Leah screamed as he was dragged away. “You’ll end up betrayed and alone! I’ll be waiting for the day you come crawling back to me on your knees!” The office door slammed shut with a solid thud. Finally, peace and quiet. I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and rubbed my throbbing temples. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even particularly disappointed. I just thought he was an idiot. The private phone on my desk rang, shattering the moment of silence. It was my eldest, Arthur Sterling. He was the chief legal counsel for Vanguard Capital, the most aggressive investment subsidiary in my portfolio. “Mother,” a calm, slightly amused voice came from the other end. “I just wrapped up a hostile takeover meeting when your assistant’s email came through. Dividing the inheritance? Which underperforming subsidiary are you breaking up this time? Just a heads-up, the legal process is expensive. My team bills by the hour.” A hint of warmth crept into my tired voice. “Arthur, it’s not a subsidiary. It’s your brother, Leah. We have a problem.” There were three seconds of silence on the line. “Leah?” Arthur’s voice turned to ice. “I see. A hothouse flower was never going to survive in the wild. What do you need? Shall I initiate litigation for breach of his non-compete, or go straight for a corporate espionage investigation?” “Just come home first.” “Understood.” He hung up, decisive as always. Immediately, my personal phone began to vibrate incessantly with a cascade of notifications. Messages were pouring in from every corner of the globe, from every sector of my empire. [Angela Sterling, Aegis Security Tech]: Mom, I’ve detected an abnormal access log in the corporate firewall. The breach originated from Leah’s office terminal with high-level clearance. I’ve patched the back door and left him a little present. Do you need me to brick his computer? 🙂 [Victoria Sterling, Starlight Media]: MOM!!! WHAT IS GOING ON?! Dividing the inheritance?! Your assistant said you were upset. Is some executive at HQ trying to stage a coup? Give me a name. I’ll have my PR team dig up all their dirt and make them a trending topic by morning! [Julian Sterling, Apex Securities]: Mother, there’s unusual capital movement in the European market related to our key tech stocks. It seems the information Leah leaked is already having an effect. Do you want me to short them into oblivion? … A smile spread across my face as I read through the messages. Raising children really is like portfolio management. When one stock crashes, you have others that are soaring, maybe even creating a bull market of their own. I picked up my phone and sent a group message. “Everyone, home. Family meeting. Last one here gets to clean up Leah’s mess.”

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1 As the sole heir to the Sterling fortune, I was still invisible, especially to the three boys my father raised. I’d thrown myself at Liam Ashford countless times, only to be met with contempt. I thought he was just cold, until I saw him on his knees before our driver’s daughter, Sierra, swearing an oath. “Marrying her is a price for the Sterlings raising me. Once I control the company, I’ll give you the real wedding. You will be my only wife. As long as Evelyn doesn’t hurt you, I’ll pay her to disappear.” The day before the shareholders’ meeting, my father asked for my choice. I thought of Liam, Jax, and Ethan—how their eyes always slid past me. I smiled. “I am a Sterling heir. My marriage should be a merger.” “I’ll choose Damian Blackwood.” My father frowned. “Damian? Since the accident, he’s a paraplegic. They say he’s… incapable. Are you sure?” … My voice was soft, but the words were steel. “In our world, Father, there’s no such thing as true love. It’s all about power. And if it’s power we’re after, then the Blackwood alliance is the only logical choice.” His face was etched with concern. “I understand the logic, but what about the boys? The three I chose for you? Do none of them hold a place in your heart?” My father had adored my mother, but she’d died from a sudden aneurysm the year I was born. He couldn’t bear the thought of remarrying, yet he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving the vast Sterling empire in the hands of a daughter. So, on the advice of a friend, he’d adopted three boys from an orphanage. His will was already written: whichever one I chose would rule Sterling Corporation alongside me, a united front against the vultures on the board. He loved me, I knew that. But his love didn’t change his conviction that a woman alone couldn’t command the respect needed to lead. I met his gaze. “Damian may be in a wheelchair, and the rumors might be true, but we can have children through IVF. He’s the only heir to the Blackwood fortune. An alliance with a powerhouse is infinitely better than propping up our house with orphans.” My father nodded slowly, a grim acceptance settling over him. “If those three couldn’t win your heart, then they have no place left at Sterling Corp.” If I had told him the simple truth—that Liam didn’t love me and I refused to force it—my father would have dragged him into his office and demanded to know what right a charity case had to refuse his daughter. I didn’t want him to use years of kindness as a leash, and I certainly didn’t want a bitter, loveless marriage. Besides, Liam’s words to Sierra had already turned my heart to stone. Letting them go quietly was the greatest mercy I could offer. As I left the office, I saw my father shoot Liam a look that could freeze fire. After dutifully seeing my father out, Liam turned to me, his brow creased with irritation. “What did you go crying to him about this time?” His eyes were filled with a familiar mix of disgust and impatience, as if I were some loathsome creature. Before I could answer, Ethan Cole, ever the cool observer, let out a short, humorless laugh. “What else? The usual complaints.” “That we don’t play with her. That we don’t worship the ground she walks on,” he drawled. Jax Ryder, the hot-headed one, sneered. “Honestly, Evelyn. It’s the 21st century. Do you really think having a fat bank account makes you a princess everyone has to bow down to?” The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, a united front, their words like sharpened daggers aimed at my heart. A knot of genuine confusion tightened in my chest. “None of you want to marry me. Why has not one of you ever just told my father that?” My father, for all his old-fashioned ideas, wasn’t a tyrant. If any of them had said no, he would have cut them a check and sent them on their way to a new life. But they never did. The Sterling fortune was a cage they refused to unlock. Jax clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Oh, cut the crap. We’re your father’s charity cases, his pet projects. We’re the dogs he keeps in his kennel. Since when do dogs get to refuse their master?” Liam’s face was a mask of grim resignation. “If you have to choose me, then fine. Just… leave the other two alone. Don’t make their lives difficult.” At this, Jax and Ethan looked at him with profound gratitude, as if he were a martyr sacrificing himself for their sake. The sight of Liam’s noble act was so absurd, so twisted, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I hadn’t even found my voice when Sierra appeared, scurrying behind Liam as if she’d seen a ghost. Instinctively, Liam shielded her. “She hasn’t done anything. Just leave her alone today.” I looked from him to the others, and a cold realization dawned. The three men who were supposed to protect me were now forming a human wall to protect someone else from me. It started five years ago. Sierra had just arrived at the estate and shyly gave me a cheap plastic barrette. As a welcoming gift, I gave her a Cartier bracelet worth a hundred thousand dollars. A moment later, as I was opening a box of macarons, Liam snatched it from my hands. “That was a keepsake from Sierra’s mother! You’d even stoop to stealing that?” he roared. I stared at Sierra, baffled, waiting for her to explain that it was a gift. Instead, she burst into tears and dropped to her knees. “It wasn’t Miss Evelyn’s fault! I gave it to her! She was so kind to me, she even gave me this beautiful bracelet. I’m not upset, really!” She started bowing her head to the floor, her performance so convincing it made the three of them see red, reminding them of their own precarious positions. “Just because you’re a Sterling doesn’t give you the right to bully someone into giving up their mother’s memento!” Jax had yelled. “That barrette might be worthless to you, but it meant everything to her! Give it back!” Ethan demanded. “Always the same, aren’t you? A spoiled brat who only cares about herself,” Liam spat. My face flushed with anger, but I swallowed it down, thinking it was just a misunderstanding I could clear up later. I held the barrette out to Sierra. As she reached for it, her hand “fumbled,” and the cheap plastic shattered on the marble floor. She bit her lip, drawing blood, and screamed at me. “If you were just going to destroy it, why pretend to give it back?” Liam, always the champion of the downtrodden, had leveled a cold threat at me. “Apologize to Sierra. Right now. Or I swear, I will call off this whole arrangement.” I had just confessed my feelings to him then, telling him he was the only one I would ever marry. He used that confession as a weapon, forcing me to my knees, metaphorically speaking. I was young, terrified of losing him, and too stunned to defend myself. So I apologized through gritted teeth and blurry eyes. And that one apology trapped me in a cycle of apology for five years. From that day on, every time Sierra saw me, she would either fall to her knees or burst into tears, like a mouse cornered by a cat. And I had never done a single thing to her. My face hardened. I looked straight at Liam. “If you’re so worried I’m going to hurt your precious Sierra, maybe you should keep her on a leash.” My words dripped with sarcasm, but he took them literally. “Is that a threat? What are you planning to do to her?” Jax clapped his hands together. “I know what this is about! It’s because we gave her The Celestial Ocean for her birthday, isn’t it? You’re going to make her pay for that.” Ethan’s gaze was glacial. “You have everything, Evelyn. Sierra’s never even had a proper birthday party. It’s just an aquarium. Is it really worth all this drama?” My blood ran cold. “The Celestial Ocean?” The Celestial Ocean was a massive, private underground aquarium, a project started the day I was born. Its main feature was a wall of flawless, deep-green emerald on the far side; when the water rippled, light would refract through the stone, creating an illusion of a living, breathing galaxy. It was set to be completed six months ago, and my father had tasked Liam with overseeing the final touches. It was meant to be my birthday gift, unveiled in one month. And now, my gift belonged to Sierra. My eyes locked on Liam. He was in charge of the project. No one could have gotten inside without his approval. He flinched under my gaze, a flicker of guilt in his eyes before it hardened into anger. “Sierra grew up poor, working her whole life. She’s never seen a real night sky. I just wanted to give her that one wish. Besides,” he added defensively, “the deed is still in your name, isn’t it?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair like a man at the end of his rope. “Look, stop making a scene. How about this? At your birthday party next month, I’ll officially announce our engagement. Will that make you happy?” He said it like he was tossing a bone to a stray dog. For a dizzying moment, I wondered if I was the one who had been adopted. But no one else seemed to notice anything wrong. They just looked at Liam with pity, as if he were making some great sacrifice. “You don’t have to do that for her, man. She’s a vicious, spoiled brat. You’d be better off joining a monastery,” Jax grumbled. “She’s probably going to be so thrilled she won’t know what to do with herself. Her life’s dream, finally coming true,” Ethan muttered. “Oh, Liam,” Sierra sobbed, “please don’t throw away your life for me! I’ll… I’ll beg Miss Evelyn for forgiveness! I’ll be her servant, I’ll do anything…” My throat felt like sandpaper. A single sentence escaped my lips. “I won’t be marrying you.” Liam’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Jax and Ethan exchanged panicked glances, terrified I might choose one of them instead. The open disgust from the three people I’d grown up with was a physical blow. I had to get out of there before the tears came. I turned to leave, but Sierra grabbed my wrist. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she, once again, dropped to her knees before me. “Please, don’t punish Liam because of me. The three of them… they owe your family everything. They’re already beneath you. If you’re angry that they gave me the aquarium, if you’re going to tell your father… I’ll apologize. I’ll kowtow to you.” Thump. Thump. Thump. She began knocking her forehead against the hard floor, again and again, until a raw, red mark bloomed on her skin. Liam, his face a storm of protective fury, pulled her up. He whirled on me. “You say you won’t marry me, but let’s see you stick to that! What is this, some twisted game to torment Sierra? Is that all you know how to do?!” “This is just another ploy to get my father to throw her out, isn’t it?” I stared at him, my expression unreadable. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you can rest assured, I will never choose you as my husband.” I expected that to be the end of it, but he lunged forward, his fingers digging into my arm. “If not me, then who? Ethan? Jax?” He took a ragged breath. “Jax is an artist; he wants to study in Paris. Ethan craves freedom. Isn’t ruining my life enough for you? Are you going to drag them down with you, too?” He looked utterly exhausted, as if I were a parasite that had been draining him for years. “Just promise me you’ll leave Sierra alone,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “If you do that, I’ll marry you. Just… please, stop all this.” I looked deep into his eyes. “You’ll get your wish.” He was terrified I would hurt Sierra. He was terrified of marrying me. Once I married Damian Blackwood, all his problems would be solved. I avoided him for the next month. On the day of my birthday gala, he finally showed up, his face a thundercloud. Ethan and Jax flanked him, their expressions equally sour. I shot a questioning look at my assistant. I had explicitly told her not to invite them, that the announcement had nothing to do with them. She just shook her head frantically, mouthing, They came on their own. I sighed and decided to ignore them. The guests, however, were not so inclined. “Mr. Ashford, you’re a true prodigy! That deal you closed last month must have netted Sterling Corp millions. No wonder Miss Evelyn only has eyes for you.” That deal was mine. I had negotiated it for weeks. Liam just signed the papers. “Mr. Ryder, your fiery spirit is a virtue. You stand up for what’s right. Miss Evelyn will be safe with you.” I suppressed a bitter laugh. Jax was the one who hurt me the most, treating me like a venomous snake he had to crush. “And Mr. Cole, such a handsome and refined gentleman. A fine choice for Miss Evelyn. We look forward to working with you.” The three of them moved through my birthday party like they owned the place. Just as I was about to step in and end the charade, they all glanced down at their phones. Before I could process what was happening, Jax’s face contorted with rage. He stormed towards me, and the world exploded in a flash of white. The crack of his palm against my cheek echoed in the sudden silence. My head snapped back, and I staggered, nearly falling to the floor. The entire ballroom went quiet. Guests scrambled back, creating a wide circle around us, their faces a mixture of shock and fear. Liam’s hands were clenched into fists. He grabbed Jax’s arm to stop him from hitting me again, then turned his furious gaze on me. “We’re here. We showed up to be put on display like prize cattle for you to choose from. What more do you want?” he snarled, his voice low and vicious. “Do you have to actually kill Sierra to be satisfied?” I was still reeling, the question making no sense. Seeing my confusion, Ethan’s lip curled in disgust. “You sent thugs to kidnap her while we were gone. Don’t play dumb. It won’t work this time.” The accusation hit me like a second slap. It was Sierra again, pulling her strings. I looked around the room, at my father’s friends and business partners. Not a single person stepped forward. In that moment, I understood. They had all bet on the boys. They truly believed the Sterling empire would never be mine, and they wouldn’t risk offending its future kings. I clutched my stinging cheek, my eyes locking onto Jax. “Apologize,” I commanded, my voice shaking with cold fury. He glanced at my tear-filled eyes and sneered. “Sierra almost lost her innocence. You just got a little slap. What have you got to cry about?” On cue, a heart-wrenching sob cut through the room. Sierra ran in, her designer dress strategically torn, her hair a mess, a perfect picture of a damsel in distress. Liam immediately stripped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her, his expression a mask of pure revulsion as he looked back at me. “You’re more manipulative than I ever imagined. I would rather die than marry a monster like you.” Ethan, who rarely spoke, stepped in front of Sierra protectively. “Your mother couldn’t give your father a son, so he brought us in as tools to secure the legacy. We accepted our fate. But even that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” He shook his head. “Fine. There’s no reason to keep up this pathetic pretense of peace.” He turned and walked away without a second glance, caring nothing for the public humiliation he was inflicting on my family. As he reached the door, Liam threw one last pronouncement over his shoulder, his voice dripping with condescending power. “I will marry you. But you will be a wife in name only, a figurehead. If you want me to protect the Sterling empire, you will learn to behave.” I laughed. A raw, broken sound. Had they forgotten? Without me, they wouldn’t even be here. As the three of them made for the exit, some of the guests finally moved to stop them, to salvage the situation. But I raised my voice, a clear, sharp command that cut through the murmurs. “Let them go!” Sierra shot me a triumphant smirk over her shoulder, a conqueror leaving the battlefield. I stood frozen in the center of the room. My assistant rushed to my side, wringing her hands. “Miss Evelyn, what are we going to do? They’re all gone! Who will you choose?” The guests were muttering amongst themselves. “A woman is bound to marry out of the family eventually. If the three boys who know her best won’t have her, who will?” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, took a deep breath, and raised my champagne flute. “Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, my voice ringing with newfound strength. “As you all know, tonight is not just my birthday gala. It is also my engagement party.” The massive screen behind me flickered to life, displaying the face of a man with chiseled features and eyes like chips of ice. A collective gasp swept through the ballroom. “Is that… Damian Blackwood? From New York?”

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The call came while Alex’s childhood friend’s son took a tumble at preschool. He turned to his colle When I got the news, I was lying on a This was year three since Alex was diagnosed with a low sperm count, the “Name?” the doctor asked, pulling on his gloves for the final verification. I stared blankly for “Marcus,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I’m not doing it. 1 Alex had been a nervous wreck ever since he took that call. After we both signed the consent form “Sarah, they’ve got it from here,” he said, already inching toward the door. “Leo’s hurt. I I was following the nurse to get changed into a surgical gown, my own mind a million miles away. I barely registered his wor But the head nurse at the fertility clinic frowned. “Mr. Davison, this is a monumental moment for any couple,” she said, her tone pro His phone buzzed Alex shot me a pained, apologetic smile, but his pale face betrayed a frantic energy. To an outsider, you’d think Leo was his son. The next thing I knew, Dr. Alex Davison, a man known for his calm, steady hands in the OR, was practically bolting out the door. He barely On the operating table, Dr. Ma I stared at him for a moment, then slowly sat up. “Marcus, I can’ His eyes flickered down to my stomach, a roadmap of tiny bruises from the injections. His expression was ser “Are you sure, Sarah?” he asked. “You know his results. These are the only two viable embryos we have. You really want to throw that a He paused, and for a man of few words, what he said next landed like a ton of bricks. “You’re a pediatric neurologist, Sarah. You of a He was right. And that’s “I’ve made up my mind,” I insisted. “I have the right to withdraw consent.” 2 By the time I walked out of the hosp I instinctively reached for the passenger door. Just then, the window roll “Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with feigned guilt. “The presc Her face was a mask of apology, but her e I glanced into the back. Her son, Leo, had a small bandage on his forehead. He was sitting in the car seat I had painstakingly researched and bought, completely absorbed in a game on my iPad. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. “Alex, I need Then I turned to Chloe. “Do you mind getting a taxi with your son?” She seemed genuinely surprised by my directness. For “Alex, maybe I should,” she murmured, her voice becoming soft and vulnerable. Alex’s long fingers tightened on the steering wheel. With He leaned across her and looked at me. “Sarah, just get in the car.” His voice It was the same calm, rational tone, as if he were simply a doctor concerned for a child’s welfare. But after three years of marriage, I k I knew, with a sickening certainty, that he wanted a baby to anchor our marriage, which was already drifting into dangerous waters. He wanted a reason to pull himself back from the edge, to force himself into the role of a husband and father. But we both knew the real proble I took a step back, clearing a p “The subway station is two blocks that way.” Chloe’s face went pale. She got out, opened the back door, and yanked the i Her movements weren’t gentle. The five-year-old, ripped from his cartoon world, “I wanna watch my show! I want Uncle Alex to take me home! Waaaaah!” “Leo, “Why? Is Uncle Alex mad at me because Aunt Sarah is here? Does he not like me anymore? Waaaaah!” The scene was getting mortifyi “Sarah, can we please just talk about this at home?” Alex’s voice was low, his deep-set eyes boring into me. Chloe clutched her A suffocating tightness spread through my chest, a tinglin But this time, I wasn’t going to fold. “Fin I took a deep breath, pushed past both of them, and walked to the back of the car. It to It’s not like I was going to need it anymore. As I stood there, a sleek black SUV pulled up beside me. Marcus rolled down the w I shoved the car seat into the bin with a loud clatter and gave him a bitter, Marcus glanced over at the white sedan that still ha “Get in.” As we pulled away, I felt li 3 Alex got home an hour after I did. I was sitting on the sofa in the dark, waiting. I heard him He held me fo “I want a divorce.” I cut him off, calm and di His body went rigid. He tightened his grip, his voice laced with weary “It has to be the hormones,” he sighed. “They’re messing with the calm, brilliant Dr. Evans I know. Leo is fiv “He got a bump on his head,” he continued, “I “It has nothing to do with Leo,” I said coolly. “And you know it, don’t yo A small frown creased his brow. “Chloe? Sarah, I’ve known her for twenty years. If we were going to be together, don’ He released me and moved toward the kitchen. “Don’t overthink this. He leaned in to kiss me, but the cool touch of his lips on my skin only made my mind fe “Don’t forget your heparin and progesterone shots after the transfer,” he called out as he tied on a No one had told him I’d stopped the procedure. He was always so thoug One afternoon, I was hiding out on the roof of the library, devastated after getting a It was Alex. He had sat with me in silence all afternoon. As the sky turned orang That one sentence brought us together. Our friends and mentors joked that the ice queen had But I wasn’t so bad myself. I’d trained under the best in my field and was the Watching Alex’s back as he chopped vegetables, I spoke into the silen “The fellowship in Germany,” I said slowly. “I don’t want to give it up.” This was the other reason my mind had Alex didn’t turn around. “Peds is always understaffed,” he said dismissively. “Everyone’s overworked. We already talk The vegetables hit the hot pan with a loud sizzle, and a cloud of steam billowed up. He finally turned “Sarah, you can lean on me. You don’t have to work so hard. W I ran a hand over my stomach, Marcus was right. A child wasn’t a bandage f His attempt to pull back from the cliff’s edge might just be me walking straight into the abyss. My marria 4 Wednesday was Alex’s mom’s birth We had agreed to go to his parents’ house for dinner after work. A family dinner felt like the right place His colleague looked He was scrolling through his phone, and his expression suddenly turned strange as he look Confused, I pulled out It was a photo. Alex, with The caption read: “Dad of the Year.” Even though I had been preparing myself Then, I liked the post. And I left a comment. Nice t-shirts. If Alex was going to hang himself out to dry, the least I could do was kick the chair out from un When I finally got to his parents’ house, I had several missed calls from him. The Instagram post w Alex opened the door. He stood there, blocking my way, his face a mixture of guilt and frustration. “Sarah, why didn’t you answer your phone?” I looked down. “I was driving.” He faltered, opening his mouth and closing it again, as if he wanted to explain but didn’t know how. Before he could, Chloe’s sickly-sweet voice floated out from behind him. “Sarah, please don’t get the wrong idea. Leo’s dad had an unexpected business trip overseas. I had no one else to ask. Alex was just helping out. As for the post, Leo was just messing around with his phone and posted it by accident.” I didn’t bother to question how a five-year-old could type and post to Instagram. My patience was gone. I looked straight at Alex. “Why is she here?” “Alex, please don’t fight because of me,” Chloe said, reaching out to tug on his sleeve. “What’s everyone doing standing in the doorway? Come on, dinner’s ready!” Alex’s mom appeared at just the right moment to play peacemaker. She took my hand, her grip surprisingly warm. “Chloe’s parents and us go way back, decades! I invited them over to liven things up a bit.” I politely pulled my hand away and offered her the gift I’d brought. His parents had never been particularly warm to me. My family lived a thousand miles away, in a small city in the Midwest. They couldn’t offer us much help, and their biggest contribution was staying out of our lives. In their minds, their son’s ideal wife was someone like Chloe—a local girl from a “good family” with a respectable job. This sudden change in attitude could only mean one thing.

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Chapter 1 I was five months pregnant when my birth parents finally found me and brought me home. The moment I stepped through the door, I heard a voice in my head. It was my baby’s. Mom, this is a wolf’s den! They only brought you here so you can donate your bone marrow to their other daughter! My feet froze on the welcome mat. Just then, my birth mother came toward me, holding a glass of freshly squeezed juice. The baby’s voice screamed in my mind. Don’t drink that! She put something in it to make you miscarry! My birth father and a young man I assumed was my brother walked in from the other room. Run, Mom, run! the baby pleaded. They’re going to drag you to the hospital for testing! I’d just met these people. My baby, on the other hand, was a part of me. I trusted the voice. Without a second thought, I spun around and bolted. But as I sprinted across the street, a blinding pain shot through my abdomen. I stumbled, right into the path of a speeding truck. As my life faded, the last thing I heard was the cheerful, triumphant voice of my baby in my head. Hahaha, I finally got rid of you! I didn’t understand. Why would the baby I was so excited for want me dead? Then I blinked. My birth mother was standing in front of me, holding out the same glass of juice. As the baby’s voice screamed the same warnings in my head, I took the glass and drank it all. … The sweet and sour juice slid down my throat, the familiar taste slowly pulling me back from the phantom agony of being hit by a truck. A moment later, the frantic voice of my baby echoed in my ears. Mom, spit it out! It’s drugged! She’s trying to make you lose the baby! They don’t love you! They just want you for your bone marrow! Hearing that voice again sent a chill down my spine. The baby insisted the juice was poisoned, but as I cradled my stomach, I felt nothing wrong. My heart began to sink. In my previous life, I’d believed that voice without question. And it was true that my birth parents had mentioned going to the hospital for a compatibility test. I’d been terrified, and in my panic, I’d run straight to my death. This time, I needed to know the truth. Was the voice real? And why did my baby want me dead? My silence seemed to make my mother anxious. “I called your husband, David. He said apple juice was your favorite.” She looked worried. “You don’t like it?” Her concern felt genuine. I managed a small smile. “It’s delicious. I just drank a lot of water on the way over, so I’m a little full.” I glanced around the spacious living room. “Are Dad, my brother, and my sister not home?” A shadow crossed my mother’s face. “Your father and brother are on their way back now.” She sighed. “As for your sister… she’s sick. She’s in the hospital.” My blood ran cold. So that part was true. My sister really was sick. Chapter 2 A triumphant giggle echoed in my mind. What a dummy. I already told you your sister was sick. Hmph. You should always listen to your baby. The childish voice sounded like a demon whispering in my ear. I couldn’t help but shiver. My mother immediately steadied me. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” “Just a little tired from the walk over,” I explained, letting her guide me to the sofa. “I’ll be fine after I rest a bit.” She still hovered, her face etched with worry. Just then, the front door opened, and my father and brother walked in. The baby’s voice scoffed. Here they are. Two-faced hypocrites. They only care about your sister. They don’t give a damn about you. My pulse quickened. But then my brother, Liam, strode over to me, a warm, sunny smile on his face. His eyes were full of genuine concern. “Maya, what are you doing here already? I was supposed to come and pick you up.” My father stood beside him, his voice gentle. “You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?” I was stunned. They were nothing like the monsters the baby described. An idea began to form in my mind. “I’m fine,” I said. “Are you guys heading to the hospital later?” My mother nodded. “Your sister… she’s very sick. She needs a bone marrow transplant. Your father and Liam are going to get tested for a match today.” The baby shrieked. Idiot! Run! They’re going to make you get tested too! With the baby’s scream, a sharp cramp twisted in my abdomen, and my heart began to pound. I doubled over, gasping. “Maya, what is it?” my mother cried, her face panicked. “Go start the car! We have to get her to the hospital! She’s pregnant, we can’t take any chances!” NO HOSPITAL! the voice screamed in my head. GO HOME! NOW! The sharpness of the voice was excruciating. I took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m not going to the hospital,” I gasped. “My apartment isn’t far. I just need to go home and rest.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the cramping began to ease. Before my parents could argue, Liam jumped in, his tone disapproving. “You live in that old walk-up without an elevator. And your husband’s job… he works a lot, right?” The baby sneered. See? They’re ashamed of you. They think you married a loser. But Liam continued, “I’m not trying to criticize him. I’m just worried about you being pregnant, climbing all those stairs, and having no one to look after you. Why don’t you stay here for a while? At least until after the baby is born. There’s plenty of room. David can move in too. We’re family. It’ll be nice to have everyone together.” A wave of warmth washed over me. But there was something I had to test. I insisted on going home. Chapter 3 My parents exchanged a look but didn’t argue further. Since they were heading to the hospital anyway, they offered to drop me off on the way. As the car neared my neighborhood, I spoke up suddenly. “Actually… I’d like to come with you. I want to see my sister.” Of course, they were thrilled. My mom even started saying she could make a doctor’s appointment for me, get me a check-up while we were there. The baby’s voice exploded in a furious shriek. You LIED to me! Liars get PUNISHED! A firestorm erupted in my belly. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. The baby was hurting me directly, just because I disobeyed. Was I carrying a baby, or a demon? The closer we got to the hospital, the worse the pain became, until it felt like my heart itself was being squeezed. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, my knuckles white as I gripped the car door. But the moment I forced myself to stand and walk to the door of my sister’s hospital room, the pain vanished. And the baby’s voice went completely silent. It was an eerie, unsettling quiet. My suspicions deepened. Inside the room, my mother took my hand. “Maya, this is your sister, Chloe.” Chloe was pale, propped up against the pillows in an oversized hospital gown. When my mother placed my hand in hers, a jolt of pure terror shot through me. It wasn’t my fear. It was the baby’s. He was terrified of my sister. I instinctively tried to pull my hand back, but Chloe gripped it tight. Her eyes met mine, and her voice was laced with a strange meaning. “Sister. We finally meet.” Then she looked at our parents. “Mom, Dad, did you bring her here to schedule the abortion?” My heart stopped. I yanked my hand away. “What are you talking about? Who said anything about an abortion?” I looked at them, my defenses flying up. Was the baby right all along? Was their kindness just an act to get me here? My mother frowned. “Chloe, what a terrible thing to say!” Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. “But isn’t that why you found her? To donate her bone marrow to me?” She turned to me, her voice syrupy sweet. “It’s for the best, sister. The baby is still small. You’re young. You can have another one after you save my life.” My father’s face darkened. “That’s enough!” he snapped. “Maya is pregnant. She will not be getting tested. Liam and I are getting tested today. If neither of us is a match, we will find another way.” Chloe began to sob quietly. “Then why did you even bother finding her? You already have me and Liam. You don’t need another kid.” As she wept, her head tilted, and I saw the back of her neck. It was covered in a raw, red rash, the skin peeling away to reveal weeping flesh that soaked through the collar of her gown. Chapter 4 My stomach churned at the sight. I clapped a hand over my mouth and ran out of the room. Once I was far down the hall, the baby’s voice returned. See? I was right. They just want you for your bone marrow. And you still dared to come here. I didn’t argue. But I was certain of one thing: my parents and brother had never intended for me to be a donor. Chloe, on the other hand… My gaze fell to my stomach. After a moment, I walked to the OB-GYN clinic and made an appointment for a prenatal check-up. The baby shrieked. Are you trying to get rid of me? Bad mommies get punished, you know! Instantly, my stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots, the pain even more intense than in the car. My legs gave out and I nearly collapsed. I grabbed a doctor’s arm, forcing the words from my throat. “Please… you have to help me. I need to know if my baby is healthy. I love my baby. I want him to be born safe and sound.” Oh. So you’re not getting rid of me. Good girl. As the voice faded, so did the pain. I was becoming more and more terrified of this thing inside me. The check-up was quick. The doctor confirmed it multiple times: the baby was perfectly healthy, growing right on schedule. I twisted the hem of my shirt. “But… if I were to terminate the pregnancy now…” The baby’s voice whispered, a chilling, ghostly sound in my mind. Mommy… you don’t really want to get rid of me, do you? A shiver went through me. I couldn’t say another word. I fled the doctor’s office in a panic. Sitting on a bench in the hallway, I debated telling my husband, David. This baby was terrifying. I couldn’t keep it. But would he even believe me? After thinking it over, I decided to post on a forum online. I typed out a desperate plea for help: I can hear my baby’s thoughts, but everything the voice says is the opposite of what’s really happening. What is going on? Replies came in quickly. I opened them with a flicker of hope, only to find a stream of mockery. People told me I had “pregnancy brain,” that I was having a psychotic break and needed to see a psychiatrist immediately. The more I read, the more frustrated I became. And with the frustration came another searing wave of pain in my stomach. I almost slid off the bench. The voice was back. Are you still secretly planning to get rid of me? My jaw clenched. With trembling hands, I typed a message to David, telling him everything—the voice, the pain, the manipulation. “David, I can’t have this baby!” After sending the text, I struggled to my feet, determined to go back and schedule the termination. Just then, a new notification popped up on my post. It was a long reply, three or four hundred words. As I read it, my blood ran cold. Then, everything clicked into place. I finally understood. Rage burned through me. I quickly deleted the message I’d sent to David. Looking down at my swollen belly, my face was a cold mask. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “Mommy is definitely going to see you’re born.” As I spoke the words, the agonizing pain that had been tormenting me finally began to fade.

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1 My mother always said my father’s eyes were for her and her alone. No other woman was allowed to look at him, not even me, his daughter. The first time I called him “Daddy,” she sealed my lips shut with superglue. “You just have to have his attention, don’t you?” she hissed. “Let’s see you call for him now!” When he came home from a business trip and I ran to hug him, she beat me with a coat hanger until I was covered in blood. “You little slut, trying to steal my husband? Not on my watch!” And the time he took me to Disneyland? When we got home, she threw me out the eighteenth-story window. “Let’s see you seduce my husband when you’re dead!” As my shattered bones lay on the pavement, I prayed with every ounce of my broken soul. A thousand lifetimes of punishing evil and upholding good, I’ll take it. Just please, please give me a different mother next time. And the universe, in its infinite mercy, granted my request. Darkness, then a voice, filled with pure, unadulterated joy. It was my aunt, Claire. “Oh my god, I’m really pregnant? I’m going to be a mom!” “Please, please, let it be a girl!” Thank you, thank you, thank you. The universe had made my aunt my new mother. Aunt Claire was a human sunbeam, her only sorrow being her struggle with infertility. She had seen how miserable I was and had tried to adopt me. I would have given anything to go live with her. But my mother, Jessica, would never allow it. It was a fantasy I held onto until the day I died. And now, my fantasy had come true. I curled up contentedly in my new, safe home, trying not to giggle with glee. But then, a familiar, nightmarish voice shattered my peace. It was Jessica. “We’re pregnant at the same time, sis-in-law,” she said to Claire. “Honey,” she cooed to my father, Mark, “what if we have a girl too?” My father’s voice was full of happiness. “That would be great! A sweet, adorable little girl.” Jessica’s voice tightened. “You’re already so in love with her and she’s not even born yet. What about me? Will you even look at me after she’s here? It’s like I’m giving birth to your mistress!” Claire was stunned. “Jessica, what are you talking about? This is your daughter!” “It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl!” Claire added, trying to smooth things over. But Jessica wasn’t having it. “What if it is a girl?” she whined. “I have a feeling it is. A little home-wrecker!” She dug her sharp nails into her own stomach, as if trying to kill the fetus inside. A cold suspicion crept over me. Could Jessica have been reborn too? Was that why she thought she was pregnant with me again, and was trying to get rid of the baby from the start? “Honey, this baby is bad luck,” she pleaded with Mark. “It’s a curse. Let’s just get rid of it and try again. I’ll give you a son, I promise!” The doctor cut in. “Mrs. Miller, you have a very specific condition that makes it difficult for you to conceive. This pregnancy is a miracle.” Mark’s voice was stern. “You’re a grown woman, Jessica. Stop talking nonsense. It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl. Don’t you dare hurt yourself or my child. My parents are so excited to be grandparents.” Claire added, “Jessica, get a grip. Do you really think Mark would have trouble finding someone else to have his children if you can’t?” The message was clear. If she couldn’t or wouldn’t have this baby, plenty of other women would be lining up to take her place. And her husband was her entire world. Jessica immediately changed her tune. “Oh, honey, your angry face is so scary! I’m pregnant, you know! I’ll be good, I’ll take care of the baby, I promise!” In front of Mark, she was the picture of maternal devotion. The second he left, she grabbed her stomach and cursed. “You little bitch. You think you’re safe just because I’m not getting an abortion? You’re not stealing my husband from me this time. Not for one second.” Her venomous words sent a chill through me, dragging me back to the misery of my past life. As if sensing my fear, Claire gently stroked her belly and began to hum a lullaby. This, I thought, this is my real mother. I relaxed. Jessica and Claire were both sent to the same exclusive private hospital, with VIP maternity packages. In front of Mark, Jessica would rub her belly with a beatific smile. But when he wasn’t around, she did everything she could to induce a miscarriage. She spit out her prenatal vitamins, flushed her specially prepared nutritional meals down the toilet, and secretly smoked and drank, and binged on ice cream. “You think you can make me have morning sickness?” she’d mutter to her stomach. “Let’s see how much nutrition you get now! I hope you’re stillborn! Or at least born a wrinkly, ugly little alcoholic that no one will ever want!” She even ordered a set of dumbbells and did endless crunches, her face pale with pain, refusing to stop. When Claire and the nurses tried to intervene, she had a ready excuse. “I’m strengthening my core! It’ll make for an easier delivery and a quicker recovery! I’m not letting this little home-wrecker steal my husband and my figure!” Listening to her, I felt a familiar dread. This must have been what it was like for me last time. My suffering had begun long before I was even born. But this time, I was safe with Claire. So who was the poor soul in Jessica’s belly? Maybe it was a boy. Maybe things would be different for him. If he survived her abuse, that is. Claire’s pregnancy was the complete opposite of Jessica’s self-inflicted nightmare. She ate well, had no morning sickness, and her appetite was only slightly larger than usual. My development was perfectly on track, but her belly was barely showing. From the back, you couldn’t even tell she was pregnant. By the second trimester, Claire was glowing. No complications, not even a single stretch mark. Her skin was radiant. This, of course, was my doing. The other expectant mothers in the hospital were amazed. They gathered around Claire, desperate to know her secret. “Dr. Evans said you’re the most relaxed pregnant woman she’s ever seen!” “You’re even sleeping through the night? If it weren’t for your belly, I wouldn’t even think you were pregnant!” “Look at her face! Not a single blemish!” Claire just laughed. “I don’t know. I guess I just have a well-behaved baby.” My uncle, Tom, was overjoyed. “This baby is a gift. She knows not to cause her mother any trouble!” He was right. I was here to be cherished, and to cherish in return. To finally have a loving mother, and for my aunt to finally have the daughter she’d always wanted. I nudged against Claire’s hand as she rubbed her belly, wishing I could be born right then and kiss her. As if she could feel my joy, she kept her hand there for a long time. Jessica watched from the edge of the crowd, her eyes full of envy. She punched her own stomach, then pushed her way through to Claire. “You know, you’ve been craving sour things,” she said loudly. “Sour for a boy, sweet for a girl. You’re definitely having a boy. I’m having a girl. You always wanted a girl, right? Let’s just swap. Everyone will be happy!” Claire stared at her, dumbfounded. “Jessica, what are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?” Jessica rolled her eyes and stuck out her stomach. “I’m having a girl and I don’t want her! You can have her! You can raise her! And you can give me your son. It’ll save you a fortune in college tuition later.” Even Claire’s legendary patience had its limits. “You smoke and drink and do everything you can to hurt your baby, and now you want to just give her away? Don’t you have any love for the child inside you?” Jessica stamped her foot. “Love? That little bitch is trying to steal my husband! You think I’m going to love her for that? Who are you trying to impress with your sanctimonious act? Fine, don’t swap. See if I care!” She stormed back to her room and started slamming an iPad against her stomach, as if she could beat the baby to death from the outside. She got even worse after that. Coffee, shellfish, intentionally falling down the stairs. The nurses were terrified of her, and started watching her around the clock. But Jessica didn’t care. “It’s my body, my baby. I can do whatever I want!” she’d shriek. “I have to protect my marriage! I’m not giving that little slut a chance!” But the baby stayed put. No miscarriage, not even any spotting. Jessica, furious, ordered a cocktail of dangerous herbs online. “I’ll get rid of you one way or another, you little bitch!” Claire noticed the strange package and immediately told Mark. He came storming into the hospital, his face like a thundercloud, and threw the herbs in the trash. “Have you forgotten this is my child too? What the hell is wrong with you?!” He threw out everything she’d bought and said, his voice deadly serious, “If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I’m done. With you, and with the baby. You can both get out of my life.” Jessica fell to her knees, sobbing. “No, honey, please! I love you! I just can’t stand the thought of you caring about anyone else! Let’s just have a son, please?” Mark sighed and helped her up, wiping away her tears. “Jessica, listen to me,” he said, his voice full of a weary sincerity. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl. You are the woman I love. Nothing and no one will ever change that.” He meant it. And he had kept his word. In my last life, he had seen how Jessica tortured me, but he had looked the other way. He was an accomplice to my abuse. And now, more than ever, I was grateful to be free of both of them. The second Mark left for the office, Jessica was back to her old self, slamming her pregnant belly into the corner of a table. “You little bitch! You’re not even born yet and you’re already making him yell at me! Just you wait!” Claire watched her, a deep frown on her face. She was finally starting to see how truly unhinged her sister-in-law was. What she didn’t see was the strange, calculating smile on Jessica’s face as she watched Claire walk away. I knew Jessica wasn’t done. And I was right. That afternoon, while Claire was napping, Jessica found one of the delivery nurses. “See her?” she said, pointing at Claire’s room. “We’re probably going to give birth around the same time. When we do, I need you to do me a favor. Swap our babies.” The nurse pocketed the thick wad of cash Jessica handed her. “That’s a big risk,” she said. “If I get caught, I’ll lose my job.” Jessica sneered. “If anyone asks, just say I asked you to bring the baby over so I could see my new niece. We’re family. What’s the big deal?” The nurse nodded. “Why do you want to swap, anyway? You don’t even know if you’re both having girls.” Jessica’s eyes were full of a venomous jealousy as she looked at Claire’s door. “She’s already flirting with my brother. Now she’s trying to get cozy with my husband too? And why should she have such an easy pregnancy while I’m suffering? She wants a daughter? Fine, I’ll give her a daughter. Let’s see how she likes it when her own husband starts to stray!” After the nurse left, Jessica muttered to herself, a chilling, evil sound. “Last time, I let you live for a few years. This time, I’m going to kill you the day you’re born. No, no, I can’t even wait that long. The very first day…” My blood ran cold. Was I destined to be killed by this monster, no matter what? But what could I do? I was just a fetus. Thankfully, my limbs were fully formed now. So whenever Jessica came near Claire, I would give a little kick. At first, Claire didn’t notice. She just thought I was finally getting active. “Oh, you’re getting strong in there! Come on, baby, give Mommy a high-five!” It was the only thing I could do. I stayed perfectly still at all other times. But whenever Jessica was around, I’d kick and squirm. After the twentieth time, Claire started to look confused. She didn’t say anything, but she quietly asked Tom if they could switch hospitals. I was overjoyed. Tom was confused. “Why? This is the best hospital in the city.” Claire just said it was a mother’s intuition. In the end, Tom convinced her to stay, worried that the stress of moving so close to the due date would be bad for the baby. But he did get her a larger, more private room at the opposite end of the hall from Jessica. After that, whenever Jessica came by, Claire would pretend to be asleep. Eventually, Jessica got the hint and stopped coming around as often. I finally felt a small measure of relief. I spent my days practicing my positioning, getting ready for the big day. Eight days before my due date, I decided I was ready. Okay, Mom, for my sake, let’s do this thing. I promise I won’t make it too hard on you. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and gave a mighty kick downwards. “Nurse! Doctor! My water just broke! I’m in labor!” Claire’s voice was louder and more powerful than I’d ever heard it. The hospital staff rushed in to take her to the delivery room. Jessica, hearing the commotion, came out of her room. She stared for a second, then ran over and blocked the gurney. “It’s too early! Claire, you can’t have the baby now! We were supposed to give birth on the same day! You have to wait!” Mark, mortified, pulled her away. “What are you talking about? Are you insane?” As the delivery room doors swung shut, Jessica cursed Claire, hoping for a stillbirth. But twenty minutes later, the doors opened again. My cries filled the hallway. Mom! I’m here! The doctors and nurses were all smiling. “I’ve never seen a delivery so fast and so easy! You’re a lucky one!” The family crowded around, cooing over me in my mother’s arms. “Come on, Jessica, come see your new niece. It’ll be your turn in a few days. I’m sure it’ll be just as easy for you!” Jessica forced a smile and walked over. The second she saw me, her face froze. The thermos in her hand slipped, and a stream of boiling water came flying towards me.

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