It was the fifth year of my IVF journey. I had just taken my ninety-seventh hormone shot when my husband, Marcus, brought home a seven-year-old boy. The boy had Marcus’s exact eyes. He stepped into our house, looking at me with terrified eyes. “Daddy said this is my home now. Chloe, are you going to kick me out?” A paternity test sat on the coffee table, confirming their biological relationship. With red eyes, Marcus explained to me that the child was conceived during the single month we had broken up eight years ago. He insisted I was the only woman he had ever loved. He just couldn’t bear to miss out on his son’s childhood. From that day on, my home office was turned into a kid’s bedroom. Our IVF savings were redirected to pay for the boy’s ear surgery. Even my egg retrieval procedure—which I had waitlisted six months for—had to be canceled so Marcus could attend the boy’s school open house. Later, the boy ate something he was allergic to. Hannah, his mother, pointed at me and screamed in tears, “Chloe! Just because you can’t get pregnant doesn’t mean you get to poison my son!” Marcus scooped up the convulsing child and, for the first time in our nine years together, pushed me away. “You’ve disappointed me, Chloe.” That night, I sat alone in the hospital, signing my own surgical consent form with one hand, and a set of divorce papers with the other. Since he was so eager to be someone else’s father, I no longer needed to ruin my body trying to make him one.

Before all of this, I had spent five long years preparing to become a mother. The next morning, I crouched on the bathroom floor, carefully placing the used needles into a biohazard disposal box. The hormone injections made my abdomen bloat. My waist was covered in black and blue bruises, and even bending over slightly sent a sharp pain through my lower back. The door was suddenly pushed open. Seven-year-old Leo stood outside, staring at my stomach. “Mommy said only broken women who can’t have babies need to get poked with needles every day.” My hand froze. Hannah rushed over, immediately pulling the boy behind her. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. Leo doesn’t know any better. Please don’t take a child’s words to heart.” She apologized with her mouth, but her arms were wrapped protectively around Leo’s chest, as if she expected me to lose my mind and hit him. Marcus stood in the hallway, looking exhausted. He hadn’t slept at all last night. His shirt was wrinkled, and his jaw was covered in dark stubble. “He just found out I’m his dad. He’s confused and scared. Don’t pick a fight with him right now.” I snapped the lid of the disposal box shut. “I’m not blaming the child.” Hannah smiled weakly. “That’s good. I was so worried you wouldn’t be able to accept him. Any woman who has struggled with infertility for years would feel devastated to suddenly find out her husband has a seven-year-old son.” Her words sounded sympathetic, but they were carefully designed to twist the knife in my heart. Marcus frowned. “Hannah, take Leo to the kitchen and get some breakfast.” Hannah took the boy’s hand and left. Once the door closed, Marcus knelt in front of me. He gently pressed a clean cotton ball against my fresh injection site, a gesture he had done a hundred times before. “Does it still hurt today?” I stared at his hands. These hands had given me dozens of injections. They had held me tightly after every failed embryo transfer, promising me that we would succeed next time. “When did you find out about Leo?” I asked. “Three weeks ago.” His hand went rigid. “Hannah contacted me first. I was afraid she was lying, so I ran two separate DNA tests. The results were the same.” “So you kept me in the dark for three weeks.” “You had just started your cycle. The doctor specifically said you needed to avoid emotional stress.” Marcus gripped my hand tightly. “I wanted to wait until your egg retrieval was finished. I didn’t want this to ruin your chances.” “My husband has a seven-year-old son, and I don’t even get to decide when I learn the truth?” He opened his mouth, searching for words. “Chloe, I only wanted to protect you…” I had heard that phrase too many times. Now, keeping a secret child from me for three weeks was also classified as “protection.” I pulled my hand back from his grip. Marcus was silent for a moment before pulling a printout of a rental listing from his pocket. “Leo needs surgery on his ears. Hannah just got divorced and has no place to stay in the city. I told them they could stay in our guest room for two weeks. As soon as the apartment across the street is ready, they will move out.” “Two weeks?” “I promise.” He added quickly, “Hannah is in the guest room. Leo is in the study. There is absolutely nothing between Hannah and me. Taking care of my son is my responsibility, but you are the only one I chose to spend my life with.” I agreed. The child had nothing to do with what happened eight years ago. He didn’t choose to be born into this mess. But that night, when I went to the study to retrieve my pharmacy textbooks, the door was locked from the inside. Leo was crying loudly in the room. “I want Daddy! I want Daddy!” That night, Marcus stayed in the study, comforting him until morning.

When I got home from work the next day, the study had been completely cleared out. All of my textbooks, medical journals, and study notes had been packed into six cardboard boxes and stacked on the balcony. My IVF tracking charts, medical reports, and five years of embryo ultrasound photos were all shoved carelessly into those boxes. I rummaged through them for an hour but couldn’t find the very first ultrasound from our failed embryo transfer. Hannah was busy putting dinosaur sheets on the twin bed in the room. She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Are you looking for that black-and-white printout? I thought it was just junk mail, so I threw it in the trash.” “That was my medical record.” “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m not familiar with IVF stuff.” She dropped the bedsheet, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “I know Leo and I shouldn’t have come here to ruin your life. But he hasn’t been able to hear well for years. He cries every night, asking why all the other kids have dads. We are only staying for two weeks. Can’t you just bear with us?” My entire life was packed into cardboard boxes on the freezing balcony. And yet, I was the one being asked to “bear with it.” The doorbell rang. Marcus’s mother, Helen, walked in carrying two large shopping bags. The moment she saw Leo, tears streamed down her face. The boy looked so much like Marcus. She held Leo, kissing his cheeks over and over, her hands trembling with excitement. “Thank God! The Miller family finally has an heir!” The moment the words left her mouth, she looked at me, her expression instantly turning awkward. “Chloe, dear, I didn’t mean it like that.” “I know,” I replied quietly. During dinner, Helen kept piling food onto Leo’s plate. She used to accompany me to my hospital visits. When our first embryo transfer failed, she had sat by my bedside for three days, cooking for me and scolding Marcus for not taking better care of his wife. But now, staring at her biological grandson, all of that past affection evaporated into nothing. Helen got up to get juice from the fridge and noticed the IVF calendar stuck to the door. She peeled it off and stuck Leo’s school schedule in its place. “Now that we have Leo, you two don’t need to put yourselves through that torture anymore. Chloe has taken so many shots, her body is practically ruined anyway.” I reached out and took the calendar back from her hand. “This cycle has already started. I can’t stop now.” “Grandma, I don’t want a baby brother or sister!” Leo dropped his spoon, crying out. “Mommy said if Daddy has a new baby, he won’t love me anymore!” Hannah quickly covered his mouth. “Shh, Leo. Don’t speak nonsense. I never said that.” Marcus’s face darkened. “Hannah, stop feeding the kid these ideas.” “I’m just worried about his security!” Hannah lowered her head, tears dripping into her bowl. “He’s seven years old and only just met his father. Is he not even allowed to be scared?” The dining table fell into a tense silence. Leo, sensing the heavy atmosphere, wrapped his arms tightly around Marcus’s arm. “Daddy, will you stay with me forever?” Marcus rubbed the boy’s head gently. “Yes, buddy.” “Will there be other kids in this house?” Marcus looked at me. In those few seconds of hesitation, I already had my answer. “Not for now,” Marcus said quietly. I squeezed the IVF calendar in my hand, the sharp edges of the paper digging deep into my palm.

That night, my phone buzzed with a billing notification from the fertility clinic. I opened our joint savings account. $6,000 was missing. The transfer note read: Leo’s surgery deposit. Marcus walked out of the shower and stopped in his tracks when he saw my phone screen. “Leo has a benign tumor in his inner ear. The doctor recommended immediate surgery, so I paid the deposit.” “That was our budget for the egg retrieval and embryo cultivation,” I said, my voice flat. “I know.” “Why didn’t you ask me before transferring the money?” Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll replace the money. I already listed my car on eBay. The buyer is coming next week.” “Then why didn’t you sell the car first?” “Leo’s surgery date couldn’t wait.” “But my body can?” He rubbed his temples, looking incredibly exhausted. “Chloe, your IVF cycle can be pushed back a month. If Leo delays his surgery, his hearing could be permanently damaged.” Every single one of his arguments made perfect sense. A child’s lifelong hearing was obviously more important than one IVF cycle. But the physical pain of the injections was mine to bear, and the money he took was saved from my hard work. Marcus wrapped his arms around me from behind. “I know I’m letting you down. Once Leo’s surgery is over, I’ll make sure Hannah moves out, and we will get back on track.” I didn’t push him away. The man I had loved for nine years was still holding me, his embrace as warm as ever. Yet, I knew something between us had already broken beyond repair.

On the third day, Hannah walked into my pharmacy holding an expired prescription. The medication she wanted required a doctor’s reassessment. I slid the paper back to her. “Leo has been having a hard time adjusting, and his ear was hurting again last night. Just let me buy it this once,” she pleaded. “I can’t do that, Hannah. The dosage needs to be confirmed by his doctor.” Hannah looked around at the other customers in the store, and her voice suddenly became loud and hysterical. “You know Leo is in pain, and you’re deliberately denying him his medicine?” “The prescription is expired. No pharmacy in the state can legally dispense this.” She pulled out her phone, pointing the camera directly at my face. “Look at this, everyone! This is my son’s stepmother! She can’t have kids of her own, so now she’s trying to kill my son by denying him his life-saving medicine!” Several customers turned to look at us. I quietly instructed my assistant to save the security footage, and then I called the police. Seeing me call the cops, Hannah immediately burst into tears, clutching Leo. Leo couldn’t hear what was happening, but seeing his mother cry, he began to sob hysterically too. By the time Marcus arrived, the pharmacy was in complete chaos. He carried the crying boy outside first. Once the police finished reviewing the store cameras and left, Marcus walked back to me. “Can you delete the security footage and not press charges?” “She publicly slandered me. My corporate office has already suspended me pending an investigation,” I said. “The footage proves you did nothing wrong. You’ll be cleared.” “And?” Marcus looked out the window at Hannah, who was sitting in the car, weeping. “She works as a preschool teacher. If this gets out, she’ll lose her job. If she has no income, the cost of Leo’s treatment and their living expenses will fall entirely on us.” “So you want me to just take the hit?” “I’ll make her post a public apology video.” I looked at him, my heart freezing. “Marcus, she literally tried to ruin my career.” “I know.” He held my shoulders, his voice softening into a plea. “Please, just give me a chance to handle this.” That afternoon, Hannah uploaded a video on Snapchat. She claimed she had been frantic over her sick child and had misunderstood Chloe, the pharmacy manager. She didn’t mention my infertility, nor did she admit to maliciously editing her video. The company lifted my suspension, but because of the public drama, they withdrew my nomination for Pharmacy Manager of the Month. Hannah kept her job. Marcus kept his promise, too. His car sold for $7,000 on eBay, and he transferred the full amount back into our joint account. That night, he prepared my trigger shot. As the needle pierced my skin, his hands were trembling slightly. “Tomorrow is Leo’s school open house. I need to show up so he doesn’t feel left out. I’ll leave by nine and run to the hospital.” “My egg retrieval starts at eight-thirty,” I said. “I’ll only stay for forty minutes. I’ll make it.” I turned my head away. “Can you please not go?” Marcus was silent for a long time before shaking his head. “Leo is the only kid in his class who has never had a father show up.” “You’ve missed seven years of his life, so of course, my procedure doesn’t matter.” “Chloe.” He pressed the cotton ball against my skin, his voice sounding hollow. “Don’t talk like that. I will make it.” The next morning, I still woke up early to pack a lunchbox for Leo. He had a severe peanut allergy. I checked the ingredient list on the snack packages three times and tucked his EpiPen into the side pocket of his backpack. Leo stood at the kitchen door, watching me. “Chloe.” “Yes, Leo?” “If Daddy has a new baby, can I still come see him?” “Of course you can.” “Mommy said you would kick us out.” I knelt down and gently adjusted his hearing aid. “Adult problems are for adults to solve. Your only job is to study, get your ears treated, and grow up happy.” Leo stared at me for a long time, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small candy. “This is for you.” Hannah stood in the living room, watching us with a blank expression. Before leaving, she took the lunchbox from my hands. “I’ll take care of him.” By 8:20 AM, I was lying on the cold operating table. Marcus was nowhere to be seen. Just as the nurse was about to wheel me into the theater, my phone rang. The background was filled with frantic crying. “Leo went into anaphylactic shock! We’re in the pediatric ER right now. Did you prepare his lunch?” Marcus’s voice was wild with panic. “I checked every ingredient.” “The doctor found peanut butter cookies in his box!” I sat up abruptly, a sharp pain ripping through my bloated abdomen. “I didn’t pack any cookies!” On the other end of the line, Hannah was hyperventilating. “Only you touched his bag, Chloe! You can hate me all you want, but what did my little boy ever do to you?” Marcus didn’t wait for my explanation. “I have to stay with Leo.” The line went dead. The egg retrieval couldn’t be postponed. After twelve days of intense hormone shots, the timing of the procedure was calculated down to the minute. If we stopped now, everything would be ruined. I signed the consent form alone and was wheeled into the operating room. When the anesthesia wore off, the pain in my abdomen was agonizing. The recovery nurse noticed my vitals dropping. I was bleeding internally from the ovarian puncture site and needed immediate laparoscopic surgery to stop the hemorrhage. I called Marcus three times. No answer. On the fourth call, he finally picked up. “Leo just stabilized.” “I have severe internal bleeding. I need emergency surgery right now.” “Chloe, can you please just wait a little bit? Leo is traumatized. Every time he sees a food container, he starts screaming!” “I need a spouse’s signature on the surgical consent form.” Marcus gasped. Hannah’s crying started up again in the background. “The doctor said they need to keep Leo under observation,” Marcus said, his voice dropping. “Can you ask one of your pharmacy colleagues to sign for you? I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Before I could speak, he added one last line. “Please, Chloe. Don’t try to compete with a child right now.” The consent form was placed in front of me. My hand shook, but I took the pen and signed my own name, stroke by stroke. Marcus finally arrived at the hospital at 11:00 PM. His eyes were bloodshot as he sat down beside my bed. “The doctor said Leo is out of danger.” I stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at him. “Hannah admitted she didn’t check the lunchbox carefully,” Marcus continued. “But she swears the cookies came from the container you prepared. Leo is terrified of you now.” “And?” Marcus reached out to take my hand. “Once you’re discharged, I think it’s best if you stay in the company dorms for a couple of weeks. Once Leo calms down, I’ll bring you home.” I slowly pulled my hand out of his grasp. Hannah was living in my house. Her son was sleeping in my study. And I, fresh out of emergency surgery, was being exiled to a cold company dorm. Marcus opened his mouth to explain further, but I simply closed my eyes. “Get out.” When the door shut, the hospital room became entirely silent. I reached for my phone on the nightstand. I canceled my embryo transfer consultation for the following week, and then I opened WhatsApp to email my regional manager, requesting a transfer to our branch in the neighboring city. Once those messages were sent, I stared at the screen for a long time. Five years ago, before my very first hormone shot, Marcus had held my hand and said, No matter what happens, we are a family. Over the years, I had endured ninety-seven painful injections, survived countless negative pregnancy tests, and always believed that if I just held on a little longer, we would get the baby we both dreamed of. But tonight, I finally understood. He already had his child. The only person who didn’t belong in that home was me. A week later, I was discharged. My transfer request was approved immediately. A colleague went to my house to pack up my clothes and personal documents while Marcus was at work. The divorce papers were delivered directly to Marcus’s office. That afternoon, I dragged my suitcase onto the train leaving the city. As the doors closed, my phone began vibrating continuously. Marcus kept calling and sending messages. Where are you? Why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up? Are you trying to threaten me with divorce again? The final message read: Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum. I’ll come to your dorm tonight and we’ll talk. I stared at the word “dorm.” I thought about the house that used to be ours, and how quickly all trace of me had been erased from it. As the train pulled away from the platform, I powered down my phone. From this moment on, whatever he did had absolutely nothing to do with me.

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At my engagement party, my fiancé was suddenly replaced by five identical-looking strangers. “Chloe, aren’t you face-blind? If you can find me among them, the wedding goes on as planned.” Tristan’s voice dripped with cold amusement from the recording playing in my earpiece. “But if you guess wrong, the wedding is off. I don’t want a wife who can only recognize her husband by sniffing his clothes like a dog.” I stood there, clutching the bouquet. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring the faces of the five men standing in front of me. Because I knew, without a doubt, that Tristan was not among them. Just as I was about to make an excuse to slip away, the audio file automatically played the next clip. “Tristan, if Chloe finds out you ditched her own engagement party to get a marriage certificate with Sienna, won’t she…” a friend’s voice asked on the recording. Tristan interrupted him, his tone sharp and impatient. “Sienna has late-stage cancer. Her last wish in this life is to marry me. How could I say no to her?” “As for Chloe? She’s been chasing me for ten years. She’s too obsessed with me to ever break up over something like this.” My heart shattered. The white roses in my hands slipped through my fingers, scattering across the polished floor. So, from the very beginning, Tristan never intended to marry me. If that was the case, I would gladly step aside. I raised my hand and pointed directly at one of the five men. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice shaking but clear. “Would you marry me instead?”

The banquet hall erupted into a frenzy of whispers. The man I pointed at froze. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips as the other four men quickly backed away. “Miss Vance, I am definitely not Tristan.” I lowered my gaze, digging my fingernails deep into my palms. “I know…” “But can you help me play along? I will pay you. Once this is over, if you want a divorce, I will agree immediately.” The man stared at me for a long beat. Then, he pulled a sleek diamond ring from his pocket and slowly, deliberately, slid it onto my ring finger. “Deal,” he whispered. He leaned down, his voice brushing against my ear. “But as for the payment… I’ll decide the price later.” A strange, inexplicably familiar scent drifted from him, but my mind was too chaotic to place it. “The wedding will be in seven days. I’ll pick you up then.” I blinked in surprise, but nodded anyway. After all, the sooner this nightmare ended, the better. By the time I managed to escape the prying questions of the guests, night had fallen. I returned to the penthouse I shared with Tristan. As expected, it was dead silent. He hadn’t come home. I let out a long sigh, massaging my aching legs, and collapsed onto the sofa. I figured I should at least let him know. In seven days, I was getting married too. I unlocked my phone. Tristan hadn’t replied to a single one of my Snapchats. With trembling fingers, I opened Instagram. A bright red marriage certificate flashed on my screen, burning my eyes. Sienna had posted it. “My days are numbered, but at least I get to stand by his side as his wife at the very end. No regrets.” In the photo, Tristan was smiling so gently, his eyes crinkled with warmth, though the rims were slightly red, as if he had just cried. The screen went dark, then lit up again. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, it was real. Sienna—my once best friend who had fled to Europe three years ago after her family went bankrupt—was now Tristan’s wife. Suddenly, a loud, frantic knocking rattled the front door. I quickly grabbed a tissue, wiped my tears, and dragged my exhausted body to open it. Tristan stood on the threshold. Rainwater was dripping from his hair, but his arms were wrapped tightly around someone else. “Chloe! There are bags in the trunk. Hurry up and bring them up for me!” Before I could even speak, Tristan pushed past me, carrying Sienna up the stairs toward the master bedroom. By the time I dragged the last heavy suitcase inside, I was soaked to the bone and shivering violently from the cold. “Chloe, thank you so much for bringing our bags up. You must be freezing.” I snapped my head up. A sickeningly sweet scent of expensive perfume hit my nose. Sienna’s face was painted pale, but her makeup was flawless. Not a single strand of her hair was wet. She held out a warm mug of cocoa toward me. “Drink this quickly. We don’t want you catching a cold.” Tristan frowned, immediately guiding Sienna to sit on the sofa. “Don’t worry about her. A little rain won’t kill her. Sit down, Sienna. I’ll make you some porridge in a minute.” My hand trembled, spilling some of the hot cocoa onto my skin. It burned, leaving a bright red mark on my wrist. Did I have to be dying to deserve his concern? Or was I just not worth it to him? “Chloe, there’s something I need to tell you,” Tristan said, holding Sienna as if she were a fragile glass doll that would shatter at any moment. “Sienna has terminal cancer.” “For the short time she has left, we are going to take care of her.” I stood frozen, holding the mug like a statue. “When… when did you get diagnosed?” My voice was so hoarse I barely recognized it. Sienna coughed weakly into a tissue. “Just this month. It was detected very late.” “I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin your engagement party.” “But the pain became too much, and I didn’t have anyone else to turn to in Europe. So I called Tristan. I didn’t expect him to fly over and drop everything. Chloe, you aren’t mad, are you?” Watching Sienna lean weakly against Tristan’s chest felt completely surreal. When we were sixteen, Sienna was the one who encouraged me to chase Tristan. She helped me lose weight, taught me how to do my makeup, and planned “accidental” run-ins for us. And now, in less than twenty-four hours, she had married him behind my back, leaving me to be ridiculed at my own engagement party. Tristan let out a cold snort. “Mad? What right does she have to be mad?” “She couldn’t even recognize her own fiancé at the party. Does a woman like that even have the right to get angry?” The memory of the humiliation from this morning flashed in my mind, making my knuckles turn white. “So… you two got married?”

Sienna suddenly choked on her drink. “Tristan… I… I was just so happy. I forgot to hide my Instagram post from Chloe.” “It’s fine. She was going to find out sooner or later anyway,” Tristan said, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. “Chloe, since you already know, I won’t lie to you.” He lifted Sienna’s left hand, showing off their matching platinum wedding bands. “Sienna and I are legally married. For her remaining days, I will stand by her as her husband.” “Okay,” I said. My voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. Tristan blinked, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes. “But I also have something to tell you,” I continued, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m getting married too.” The living room fell into a dead silence. “You? Married?” Tristan’s lips curled into a mocking smirk. “Do you even know which man you’re marrying?” “It doesn’t matter. He recognizes me. And he doesn’t play sick games to test me.” Hearing this, Tristan burst into a harsh laugh. “Stop playing around, Chloe. You’ve been obsessed with me for ten years. Is there even another man in your life?” “You don’t even have the social skills to meet anyone else. How are you going to get married? By spraying them with perfume so you can sniff your way to the altar?” Sienna piped up in a soft, patronizing voice. “Chloe, I know you’re hurting, but you shouldn’t lie about something like this…” Tristan waved his hand dismissively, picking Sienna up in his arms. “Chloe, I am Sienna’s husband now. So, you’ll be sleeping in the guest room tonight.” “No, Tristan, please,” Sienna protested weakly, clinging to his neck. “I’m dying anyway. I don’t want to ruin your relationship. I’ll just sleep on the couch.” Tristan only held her tighter. “Sienna, you are my legal wife. This penthouse is your home. The mistress of the house does not sleep on the couch.” With that, he walked straight into the master bedroom, closing the door without giving me a single backward glance. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the floor. I looked around the living room. Every single piece of furniture, every painting, every curtain had been carefully chosen by me for our future home. But in the end, there was no room for me in this house. I stumbled to my feet, heading to the kitchen cabinet to find some fever medicine. From the master bedroom, Tristan’s soft, gentle murmurs drifted out. The bitter taste of the pill dissolved on my tongue. He had never once spoken to me in that tone. After a quick shower, I crawled into the small guest bed, wrapping the duvet tightly around myself. Just sleep, I told myself. In a few days, you’ll leave this place forever. The next morning, I woke up just as the sun was rising. My head felt heavy and hot, but sleep was impossible. I walked out to the living room. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, and I could hear Sienna’s muffled voice from inside. “Richard, I have a follow-up appointment in a few days. Make sure you forge the medical records perfectly. Swap my meds for vitamins. Tristan doesn’t know anything about medicine; he believes whatever I say.” Sienna’s voice was low, but in the quiet morning, every word cut through the air like a knife. “Once Tristan helps pay off my family’s debts, you’ll get a huge cut of the money.” My hands began to shake uncontrollably. I pushed the bathroom door wide open. Sienna gasped, her eyes widening in temporary panic. But she quickly recovered, hanging up the phone and casually dabbing pale foundation onto her face to make herself look sicker. “Why… why are you lying to him?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “Because… I need the money,” Sienna said, putting down her makeup brush and looking at her deathly pale reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. “Honestly, I was surprised too. You chased him for ten years, but all it took was one phone call from me for him to pay my debts and abandon you. I guess he never really loved you, did he?” A metallic taste rose in my throat. “Stop lying to him. I… I can help you pay your debts. Just stop this.” Sienna stared at me, then burst into a mocking laugh. “You? Help me? Chloe, did you forget? Before my family went bankrupt, we were worth ten times what your family is!” She stepped closer, looking down at me with pure disdain. “Even if I have to live like a dog now, I don’t need your pity!” Suddenly, Tristan’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Sienna? Are you in there? Are you feeling okay?” Sienna’s eyes narrowed instantly. With a sudden, violent sweep of her arm, she knocked all her cosmetics off the counter. Bottles shattered on the tile floor as she threw herself down, screaming. “I’m sorry, Chloe! I know I don’t have much time left! Once Tristan and I have our wedding, I’ll go away and die in peace! I won’t get in your way anymore!” The bathroom door was kicked open with a loud bang. Tristan lunged inside, shoving me hard against the wall as he scooped a sobbing Sienna into his arms. “Chloe! Sienna is supposed to be your best friend! How could you be so cruel—” Tristan’s voice suddenly cut off.

Bright red blood began to drip onto the white tiles, pooling into a small puddle. My forehead had slammed against the sharp edge of the wall cabinet. My vision went blurry, and Tristan’s face seemed to split into multiple overlapping shadows. Tristan’s lips parted, a flash of pure guilt washing over his face. But his hands remained firmly wrapped around Sienna. I don’t know how long I lay there before I managed to crawl out of the bathroom and onto the living room sofa. By the time Tristan came out of the bedroom, I was silently dabbing antiseptic on my cut. He walked over quickly, reaching out to take the cotton swab from my hand. I tilted my head, quietly dodging his touch. Tristan’s hand froze in mid-air. He looked at me with a complicated expression. “I didn’t mean to shove you that hard,” he muttered, lowering his hand with a sigh. “I know your personality. You wouldn’t have pushed her.” “But she doesn’t have much time left, Chloe. Just go along with it and apologize to her, please?” My hand froze. I looked at Tristan, feeling as if I was seeing him for the very first time. “Tristan,” I said, taking a deep breath. “What if I told you Sienna doesn’t have cancer?” Tristan stiffened. Then, his gaze drifted away, his expression hardening. “Do you have to be this petty?” I turned my head away, refusing to say another word. Tristan stood there in silence for a moment before turning and walking into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he placed a steaming bowl of oatmeal in front of me. “Eat something. We’re going to take Sienna to her wedding photoshoot later.” “After all, this might be the last time the three of us are together.” I stared at the oatmeal, a wave of bitter nostalgia washing over me. During our freshman year of college, I got terribly sick. The doctors couldn’t find the cause. My parents were stuck abroad on business, so Sienna used her family’s connections to get me the best specialists. Tristan had brought me to his place to take care of me, ordering his chefs to make whatever I wanted. But back then, I threw up everything I ate. I was practically skin and bones. In a panic, Tristan, who had never stepped foot in a kitchen in his life, spent an entire day researching recipes until he managed to make a bowl of oatmeal that wasn’t burnt. Back then, I was so touched by that simple bowl of oatmeal that I cried, promising myself I would stay by his side forever. But my ten years of devotion had only earned me a double betrayal. “I’m not going,” I said quietly. Tristan’s face darkened. “Chloe…” “You two are legally married. What would I be doing there? Giving people a free show?” My voice was incredibly calm. Even I was surprised by how numb I felt. I guess once you’re completely drained of love, there’s no room left for anger. “Tristan, I’m ready! Can we go now?” Sienna stepped out of the bedroom, wearing a beautiful white dress, her eyes shining with excitement. Tristan stared at me for one last long second before turning around and walking out the door with Sienna. The penthouse fell silent. I reached up to touch my forehead. My skin felt burning hot. I couldn’t stay here any longer. I swallowed a couple of fever reducers, grabbed my suitcase, and began packing my things. My head throbbed, and my breath felt like fire, but I didn’t stop. I had to leave before they came back. “Chloe? Are you leaving?” Sienna’s voice suddenly echoed behind me. I kept packing, not even bothering to look back. “Chloe, can you hand me my perfume from the vanity? I forgot to pack it,” Sienna asked, her voice dripping with sweet innocence. “Don’t you have hands?” I replied coldly. Sienna gasped softly, a venomous look flashing across her face. I walked into the guest bedroom to grab my last jacket. Just as I turned around, a heavy mist of perfume was sprayed directly into my face. Sienna stood at the doorway, pressing the nozzle repeatedly, targeting my face. My lungs instantly seized. Every breath became a sharp, wheezing battle. “Oh dear, Chloe. What’s wrong? You look so pale,” Sienna mocked, tossing the perfume bottle into the trash can. The sweet smile on her face vanished, replaced by a cold sneer. I collapsed onto my knees, clutching my throat. My airway felt like it was being strangled by a wire. I could only make high-pitched, desperate wheezing sounds. Suddenly, the front door burst open, and Tristan’s panicked voice echoed through the apartment. “Chloe! Are you having an asthma attack?!”

Tristan finally looked terrified. He dashed to the medicine cabinet, frantically tossing bottles aside until he found my rescue inhaler. “Chloe! Quick, use this—” “Tristan… my stomach hurts… I think… something is wrong,” Sienna suddenly whimpered, clutching her abdomen and collapsing onto the floor. Tristan whipped his head around, his eyes darting frantically between me and Sienna. Finally, he clenched his teeth and threw the inhaler toward me. “Chloe, hang on! I’ll call an ambulance for you!” He scooped Sienna up in his arms and bolted out of the penthouse. He didn’t look back. Not even once. I crawled desperately across the floor, my fingers trembling as I grabbed the inhaler. I shoved it into my mouth and pressed down. Nothing. I pressed it again, harder. Still nothing. It was completely empty. The plastic canister slipped from my hand, rolling into the dark corner under the cabinet. Cold sweat soaked my shirt. My lips were turning a dark shade of blue. My lungs screamed for oxygen, but no air would enter. As my vision began to fade into black, the ring on my finger suddenly flashed a bright, steady light. I let out a bitter, silent laugh. I guess… I won’t make it to the seventh day. In the hospital hallway, Tristan paced back and forth, clutching his phone. On his way to the hospital with Sienna, he had called a private medical team to rush to the penthouse. “I left her the inhaler, and the doctors are on their way. She’ll be fine,” Tristan muttered to himself, trying to shake the image of my suffocating face from his mind. Thirty minutes later, his phone rang. “Mr. Carter, we searched the entire penthouse. Miss Vance is not here.” The blood drained from Tristan’s face. “What do you mean she’s not there?!” he roared into the phone. “She was having an asthma attack! Where could she have gone?!” “We don’t know, sir. But when we arrived, the only thing we found was an empty inhaler on the floor.” Tristan’s head spun. He took two steps back, nearly losing his balance. Empty? How could it be empty? All the inhalers in the cabinet were brand new. “Expand the search! Check every hospital emergency room in the city!” Tristan opened his Snapchat chat with me. He realized I had sent him several messages the day before, none of which he had replied to. He dialed my number. “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…” His hand shook violently. He redialed, again and again, but the automated voice was all he got. Tristan sank onto a plastic chair in the waiting room. He waited from noon until midnight before the medical team called back. “Mr. Carter… a local hospital admitted a female patient with severe asthma and a high fever this afternoon.” Tristan’s body went rigid. The day before, he had been so focused on Sienna that he had forced me to carry heavy bags in the pouring rain. “Is she okay?!” Tristan demanded, his heart hammering against his ribs. There was a long, suffocating silence on the other end of the line. “They… they couldn’t revive her. She’s gone.”

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The moment I stepped into the office, the CEO’s wife slapped me. Before I could even process the pain, a stack of photos of the affair was thrown in my face. “You slut. How dare you sleep with my husband? I’ll make sure you never work in New York again.” “Where is Legal? Tell HR to fire her immediately. I want her blacklisted everywhere.” My best friend, Chloe Sterling, stood nearby with red, teary eyes. She looked at me with deep disappointment. “Stella… I can’t believe you’re the mistress who seduced the boss. No wonder I saw you at that hotel last time…” I was completely stunned. I was single. How could I possibly be a mistress? Just as I opened my mouth to defend myself, a series of glowing chat comments suddenly flashed before my eyes like a live stream. “Chloe is the real mistress. She is framing you.” “She stole your ID card to book those hotel rooms. She even bribed the hotel receptionist. If you say ‘it wasn’t me’ right now, she will pull out fake video evidence to destroy you.” “It’s promotion season. If you get fired, the department manager position is hers.” “Defending yourself won’t work. Cry. Start crying right now. Pretend you were drugged and assaulted. Play the victim.” I immediately choked back my explanation. In a split second, tears welled up in my eyes. I looked at Chloe with gratitude. “Chloe, thank you.” Under the bewildered stares of everyone in the room, I pulled out my phone, dialed 911, and put it on speakerphone. “I’d like to report a crime. I was drugged and assaulted. I have physical evidence and witnesses.”

“Stella, are you crazy?! You’re filing a false police report just to escape the consequences?” I sidestepped Chloe as she tried to snatch my phone, staring straight into her eyes. “But I have absolutely no memory of what happened in those photos.” “And what you just said about seeing me at the hotel? I don’t remember a single thing about that either.” “Unless I was drugged and lost consciousness, or literally brainwashed, is there any other explanation?” I hung up the phone. I pulled back a chair and sat down calmly. Victoria Harrington, the CEO’s wife, let out a cold laugh. She slammed her limited-edition Hermès bag heavily onto the conference table. “Stella Vance, stop putting on a show!” “Do you really think calling the cops will clean your name after you seduced my husband?” “Whether my name is clean or not is for the police to decide,” I replied, looking directly at her. “Since you came here today to catch a mistress, wouldn’t a full police investigation be better for you anyway?” “That way, you won’t be manipulated by someone else and blame the wrong person.” Chloe’s eyes grew redder, her voice trembling. “Stella, how can you still be so shameless at a time like this? I truly regret being your friend for all these years!” She turned around to face Victoria and the other executives in the room. “Mrs. Harrington, everyone, I actually noticed something was wrong a long time ago.” “Stella’s spending habits have been way too high lately. It completely exceeds her salary as a regular employee.” “Last month, I saw her checking into the InterContinental Hotel with my own eyes.” As she spoke, she opened a video on her phone and projected it onto the large screen in the conference room. The video angle was clearly from the hotel lobby’s security camera. In the footage, a woman wearing my limited-edition trench coat and my custom star-themed bracelet was standing at the counter. After checking in, the woman took the room key and walked into the elevator. Although the camera only caught her back and a slight side profile… With that outfit and body shape, anyone would swear it was me. “Where did you get this video?” I asked, looking confused. “I got it from a friend who works at the hotel,” Chloe said proudly. The executives looked at me with immediate disgust. “Wow, I couldn’t tell. She acts so innocent at work, but she’s so wild behind our backs.” I didn’t rush to defend myself. I just quietly stared at the screen. The trench coat was mine. The bracelet was mine. But during that exact weekend, my ID card had indeed gone missing for a few days. Later, it mysteriously reappeared in my office desk drawer. I turned my head to look at Chloe. “Since you have the security footage, please hand it over to the police when they arrive.” “Identity theft and drug-facilitated sexual assault are major felonies. This video is crucial evidence.” Chloe’s face stiffened. She gritted her teeth. “You’re still lying! You booked that room yourself! There was no drug or assault!” I smiled and asked, “If I were sober and sneaking out to meet a married man, would I be that stupid?” “Would I brazenly use my own ID card to register at the front desk, basically begging to get caught?” Victoria frowned, a sliver of doubt flashing in her eyes. Chloe immediately raised her voice, cutting in: “Who knows what goes on in your twisted mind! Maybe you did it on purpose!” “Is that so?” My voice remained flat. “Then let the police find out who that woman really is.” “The police won’t frame an innocent person, and they certainly won’t let a criminal go!” Just then, the conference room doors were pushed open. Two uniformed police officers walked in.

“Who called 911?” The lead officer, Detective Carter, scanned the room with a sharp gaze. I immediately stood up and raised my hand. “I did, Officer.” I pointed to the photos scattered on the table, and then to the video still playing on the big screen. I explained the entire situation to Detective Carter from beginning to end. Detective Carter’s face turned serious. He carefully placed the photos into an evidence bag. “Aside from these photos, do we have any other leads?” Chloe bit her lip and stepped forward. “Officer, don’t listen to her! She’s just trying to cover up her guilt!” She pointed at the screen and shouted: “This is the video of her using her own ID to book a room at the hotel.” “She wasn’t drugged. She was perfectly sober when she went to sleep with our boss!” Detective Carter looked at the screen, then at Chloe. “Where did you get this footage?” “I got it from a friend at the hotel front desk.” Detective Carter gave her a stern look and held out his hand. “Hand over the original video file and your phone.” Chloe’s face turned pale. Reluctantly, she handed over her phone. I immediately spoke up. “Officer, I request a forensic analysis of this video.” “At the same time, I want to submit my dashcam footage, my apartment building’s security log, and my phone’s GPS data from that day.” Chloe let out a cold snort, seemingly prepared. “That was a weekend, and your apartment building had a power outage, so the cameras weren’t working. You could easily alter your dashcam and GPS yourself.” “Did you plan all of this beforehand?” She turned to the detective, her tone confident. “Officer, she definitely snuck out during that time!” I ignored her provocation and continued addressing the detective: “I request the police to track this woman’s exact movements.” Detective Carter nodded and instructed the younger officer behind him: “Get the high-definition footage from the hotel lobby, hallways, and parking garage for that day.” “Verify the ID number used for the room, the key card logs, and the payment account.” Right then, the door was pushed open again. Liam Harrington, the CEO, walked in in a rush. Seeing the police, he froze, his footsteps halting. His eyes locked with Chloe’s for a brief second. The moment Victoria saw him, she rushed over and slapped him across the face. “Liam Harrington! You still have the nerve to show up! Look at what you’ve done!” Liam’s head snapped to the side. He took a deep breath. Then, he turned to look at me, his face suddenly twisting into a mask of pain and betrayal. “Victoria, I’m sorry.” He pointed at me, gritting his teeth. “Stella Vance kept seducing me! That day, she blackmailed me into going to that hotel.” “I wanted to reject her, but she drugged my water.” “By the time I woke up, the damage was already done.” The room erupted into whispers. The high-and-mighty CEO was actually throwing me under the bus in front of the police. Not only that, but he was turning the tables and accusing me of drugging him! Victoria was shaking with rage. She pointed at my face. “Stella Vance! You shameless bitch!” She lunged forward to grab my hair. I quickly took a half-step back, avoiding her hands, and looked straight at Liam. I said calmly: “I suggest we both take an immediate hair follicle drug test, and let the police sweep the hotel room for forensic evidence.”

Liam’s expression changed instantly, but he quickly forced a hardened look. “This happened almost a month ago! What forensic evidence could possibly be left?” I stared him down. “If you are truly the victim here, Mr. Harrington, you should want the police to investigate this even more than I do.” Liam avoided my eyes. He pulled out his phone and handed some screenshots to Detective Carter. “Officer, these are the Snapchat messages she sent to invite me to the hotel.” The detective took the phone. The account name was “Starry Night,” and the profile picture was a selfie of me. “Hey Liam, this Saturday at 2:00 PM. InterContinental Hotel, Room 8026. See you there. Don’t keep me waiting.” “Stella, we can’t do this.” “If you don’t show up, I’ll tell Victoria about you embezzling company funds.” Seeing the screenshots, Victoria blew up again. “Not only is she a slut, she’s an extortionist!” “Stella Vance, I will make sure your life is ruined! You will never work in this industry again!” Chloe stood to the side, dabbing her tears and adding fuel to the fire. “Stella, the boss showed the messages. Are you still going to deny it?” “That Snapchat account is your burner. You used to borrow money from me using that exact account.” She turned to Detective Carter. “Officer, is this enough proof of blackmail and seduction?” Watching their coordinated performance, I sneered inwardly. “Since Mr. Harrington has provided these screenshots, I request a full forensic investigation of the digital evidence.” “First, I want a subpoena for the registration email of that Snapchat account.” “Second, I want to verify the IP addresses and device MAC addresses used to send those messages.” “Third, Chloe claims I used that account to borrow money from her. I want her to show the corresponding bank transfer records.” I pressed forward, my voice echoing in the room. Liam’s eyes twitched. Chloe hurriedly interrupted, “Everyone knows you majored in Computer Science! Changing an IP address is child’s play for you!” “Mr. Harrington, we need to take your phone back to the station for digital forensics,” Detective Carter cut her off coldly, putting Liam’s phone into an evidence bag. Liam opened his mouth but didn’t dare to object. But Victoria wasn’t done. She pulled a bank statement from her bag and slammed it onto the table. “Officer, this is our corporate bank statement!” She pointed at a bolded line of transaction data, her voice screeching. “Liam used the company account to transfer $50,000 into Stella’s personal bank account!” “This is the sugar daddy money! The proof is right here!” The executives whispered among themselves again. “Fifty grand… she really took it.” “The evidence is undeniable. Let’s see how she explains this.” I glanced at the statement. The account number indeed belonged to an old, rarely used bank card of mine. “Mrs. Harrington, can this bank statement be handed over to the police as evidence?” “Of course! It’s key evidence!” “Great,” I said calmly. “Officer, I request an immediate freeze on this Chase bank account.” “Furthermore, I want to track all transaction paths and ATM withdrawal camera footage associated with this $50,000 after it was deposited.” I turned my cold gaze toward Chloe. “Let’s see whose pocket that fifty grand actually ended up in.”

Chloe’s breath hitched. She clenched her fists tightly, forcing herself to stay calm. “Stella, you obviously withdrew that money in cash. What’s the point of tracking the digital trail now?” “Do you think the police are stupid enough to believe you?” She seemed to make up her mind about something. She reached into her bag, pulled out one last document, and handed it to the detective with a trembling hand. “Officer… actually, there is one more thing.” “I didn’t want to bring this up because it concerns a woman’s dignity.” “But I can’t let Stella keep lying.” She unfolded the paper. It was an abortion consent form from New York Central Hospital. In black and white, “Stella Vance” was written on the patient line. At the bottom right, there was a signature that looked exactly like my handwriting. “Last Tuesday afternoon, Stella took a half-day off. She actually went to the hospital for an abortion.” Chloe wept dramatically. “The baby was the boss’s! She was terrified of getting caught, so she quietly terminated the pregnancy.” “I was worried about her, so I secretly followed her to the hospital. I managed to get a copy of this form from the nurse’s desk when she wasn’t looking.” The room was in shock. Even Liam was stunned. Clearly, he had no idea Chloe had prepared this dramatic piece of evidence. Victoria was so angry she almost fainted. She leaned against the table, pointing a shaking finger at me. “Fire her! Legal, draft the lawsuit right now!” “I’m not just firing her. I want her to spit out every single penny she took, and then I want her in prison!” Detective Carter took the abortion form, frowning deeply as he turned to me. “Stella Vance, is this your signature?” I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I took a deep breath and let my eyes sweep across everyone in the room. “You all really went all out to paint me as the mistress, didn’t you?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone to hear. Chloe came over to grab my hand. “Just confess, Stella! I will beg Mrs. Harrington to show you mercy!” I slapped her hand away and looked at Detective Carter. “Detective Carter, please list all the evidence Chloe and Mr. Harrington have provided today.” I raised my fingers, counting them down one by one. “First, the hotel security footage and booking records under my ID.” “Second, the Snapchat burner account using my photo to message Mr. Harrington.” “Third, the bank statement showing $50,000 transferred to my account.” “Fourth, this abortion consent form from New York Central Hospital.” I turned to Chloe and Liam, my voice rising with absolute authority. “You two, in front of the police, confirm this one last time.” “All of this evidence involves actions taken by me personally.” “None of this was forged by anyone else, correct?” Chloe yelled without hesitation, “Of course it is you. The evidence is rock solid. What else can you say?” Liam gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yes, she and I did those things. I am willing to testify under oath.” “Excellent. Wonderful.” I smiled slightly, reached into my inner jacket pocket, pulled out a USB drive, and placed it next to the evidence bag. “Detective Carter, please play the files on this drive.” The screen flickered, and everyone in the room held their breath.

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I took my daughter, Lily, and my son, Leo, to meet Valerie, my close friend who had just returned from Europe. She looked at them, a teasing smile on her lips. “Oh, when did you have a second child? How old is she?” I frowned. “What do you mean, second child? They’re twins.” She froze for a few seconds. Then, she burst out laughing as if I had just told a hilarious joke. “Come on, stop messing with me. Five years ago, when you were in labor, I was right outside the delivery room. I saw the nurse carry the baby out. They said you only had a boy.” Seeing the confusion on my face, she pulled out her phone and handed it to me. It was a photo. In the picture, my husband, Harry, was holding a single newborn baby boy, looking down and whispering to him. The nurses around him were all smiling. But the timestamp in the bottom right corner of the photo was from exactly five years ago. The night I had an emergency C-section, suffered severe hemorrhaging, and fell into a coma for two whole days.

The moment I saw the photo, my mind went blank. There was indeed only one baby boy in Harry’s arms. Lily was nowhere to be seen. But from the very first prenatal checkup, every single ultrasound report showed twins. How could only one baby have been delivered? My fingers gripped the phone so hard they turned white. “Valerie, is it possible that Lily was brought out later? Maybe you just missed her?” Valerie shook her head, her tone absolute. “No way. I was standing right by the doors for over an hour. If there really was a second baby, why didn’t any nurse bring her out?” “And I remember it clearly. The nurse came out and said, ‘Congratulations, it’s a healthy boy, and the mother is safe.’ She never mentioned a girl at all!” I instinctively shook my head. “That’s impossible. All our scans showed twins. The doctor never said the other baby was in danger before the surgery!” Valerie scratched her head, looking just as confused as I was. “Yeah, I was super confused that day too. You’d been talking about having a boy and a girl for months. So why was there only one?” “But Harry told me that because of your severe bleeding, the baby girl didn’t make it. He begged me not to bring it up because he didn’t want to break your heart. So, I never asked again.” “But now you’re telling me you actually raised twins? This is insane!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. What did he mean by the baby girl didn’t make it? Harry had never mentioned a single word of this to me! When I finally woke up in the ICU, both he and his mother, Mary, told me that the twins were perfectly healthy. They told me I had a little prince and a little princess. If Lily had been alive and well this entire time, why did he lie to Valerie? A cold shiver ran down my spine. Slowly, I turned my gaze toward the playground, looking at Leo and Lily. Leo had my eyes, but his nose and jawline looked exactly like Harry’s. He was obviously our biological child. But Lily… I stared at her. I had never thought anything of it before. But looking closely now… She had Harry’s eyes, his chin. But she didn’t look like me at all. Instead, she looked exactly like… My best friend, Nora! The moment that name popped into my head, my heart stopped. But I quickly shook the thought away. Nora was my best friend. She was even the kids’ godmother. Back in high school, when the whole class bullied and isolated me, she was the only one who stood by me. In college, when someone framed me for stealing, she was the one who cleared my name. Even Harry was introduced to me by her. If she and Harry were having an affair, why would she have set us up in the first place? Trying to suppress the terrifying thoughts, I hurriedly grabbed my phone and dug up an old photo from our college graduation. In the photo, I was standing in the middle. Harry was on my left, and Nora was on my right.

I zoomed in on Nora’s face, then looked up at Lily, who was currently chasing Leo around. The more I looked, the harder my hands shook. Lily’s almond-shaped eyes when she laughed, the faint dimple on her right cheek, the slight curve of her lips… She was a spitting image of Nora in that old photo. My throat tightened, and my palms began to sweat. “Valerie, look at this. Am I going crazy? Why does Lily… look so much like Nora?” Valerie thought I was joking at first. But when she took the phone and compared the photo to the little girl playing in the distance, the smile on her face faded completely. “Chloe… oh my god.” “She really does.” She stared at the screen for another ten seconds, and then, as if realizing something terrible, her head snapped up. “Wait!” “I just remembered something. On the day you went into labor, Nora was at the same hospital!” “I ran into her in the lobby!” My mind exploded. Everything went blank. A week before my due date, I had specifically texted Nora on Snapchat, asking if she would come to support me. She had replied saying she couldn’t make it because of a huge work project. But now, Valerie was telling me she was there. And she hid it from me. Why? “And… her belly looked really big. She looked pregnant!” Those words pierced right through my heart. I stood frozen, completely numb. Suddenly, a sharp cry echoed from the playground. It was Leo. I snapped out of my trance and rushed over. I saw Lily sitting on top of Leo, her hands clawing viciously at his face. Leo’s face was covered in five deep, bloody scratches. Droplets of blood were oozing out. Horrified, I screamed at her. “Lily! Stop it right now!” Lily looked back at me, but instead of stopping, she gave me a defiant glare and dug her nails even deeper into his skin. “No!” “Leo is a worthless mistake! He’s my brother, but he didn’t listen to Aunt Nora, Daddy, and Grandma! They said I get to go on the slide first! I’m going to beat him up!” My entire body went rigid. “What… what did you just call your brother?” Lily showed no fear. She lifted her chin proudly. “A mistake!” “Aunt Nora said he’s just a worthless mistake. Everything in the Miller-adopter house belongs to me. He has no right to take anything from me!” My brain hummed. Nora? She actually said things like that to a five-year-old child? Furious, I ignored the staff trying to intervene, rushed into the play area, pushed Lily aside, and pulled Leo into my arms. The poor boy’s face was bleeding, his eyes red from pain and tears. Yet, he still reached out with a trembling hand, clutching my sleeve to defend Lily. “Mommy… don’t mad at Lily.” His entire body was shaking violently. “If Lily cries, Daddy, Grandma, and Aunt Nora will be very angry with me.” “Last time I didn’t share my toys, Grandma locked me in the dark closet for two days. I was so cold and hungry. I don’t want to go back in the dark room today…” My heart felt like it was being repeatedly stabbed with needles. I could barely breathe. This was the child I carried for nine months. This was how they treated him behind my back while I was away on business trips. No wonder over the past two years, whenever I called home via FaceTime to check on the kids, it was always Lily who grabbed the phone. Whenever I bought gifts, they always told me Lily wanted this and that. When I asked about Leo, they always claimed he was too shy to talk, or that boys shouldn’t be coddled. He wasn’t shy. They were just terrified he would tell me the truth. They kept him away from me on purpose. Trembling with pure rage, I grabbed my phone and dialed Harry’s number. “Hey, Chloe, what’s up? I’m at work.” “Work? Harry, you still have the nerve to pretend you’re working?”

Harry was quiet for a moment, then spoke in his usual sweet, soothing voice. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you upset because I couldn’t join you today? Don’t worry, I promise I’ll make it up to you next time…” There it was again. That patronizing tone. For the past two years, while I was working out of state, he had used this exact voice to placate me. He told me to focus on making money and leave everything at home to him. And I had believed him. I never doubted him for a second, transferring my salary to him every single month. And this was how he took care of our home? My son was being called a worthless mistake in his own family! “Harry, I need an explanation right now!” “Why is Lily calling Leo a mistake? Why is she saying everything we own belongs to her? How on earth are you raising her?” “Is this how you let her abuse my son when I’m not around?!” The line went dead silent. Then, Harry sighed, his tone filled with helpless exasperation. “Chloe, are you listening to Leo’s lies again? He’s only five. Kids that age make up stories all the time.” My knuckles turned white clutching the phone. I couldn’t believe he was trying to brush it off so easily. “Stories?!” “Harry, I saw it with my own eyes! Lily was pinned on top of Leo, scratching his face until it bled!” “I heard her call him a mistake with my own ears! She said everything in this family belongs to her!” “Are those stories too?!” Harry’s voice remained dismissive. “Chloe, kids fight all the time. It’s normal.” “Leo is the older brother. He’s supposed to let his sister have her way.” “Lily is just spoiled. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. You’re an adult, why are you starting a fight with a four-year-old?” I completely snapped. “So you admit it? You admit this is how you normally raise her?!” Harry choked on his words. “That’s not what I meant.” “Then what did you mean?!” I screamed into the phone. “A four-year-old girl doesn’t just come up with the word ‘mistake’ on her own! She doesn’t just invent the idea that everything we own belongs to her!” “Harry, you and your family disgust me.” “I want a divorce!” I hung up and blocked his number. A divorce was definitely happening. But before that, I needed a DNA test. After secretly gathering hair samples from Lily and Leo, I drove straight to a private DNA testing center. Three hours later, the results were ready. Leo and I had a 99.9% maternal match. But Lily and I? 0% match. We shared absolutely no biological relationship. She was indeed not my daughter. With a freezing heart, I opened the second set of results. Thankfully, when I borrowed Nora’s jacket yesterday, I found some of her hair on the collar. I flipped directly to the last page. The cold truth sank in. Probability of Maternity: 99.9999%. Lily was the biological daughter of Nora and Harry. They had been sleeping together behind my back, raising their love child under my nose, and making a fool out of me for five years. I closed the report. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t scream. Instead, I took high-resolution photos of all three DNA reports and backed them up to my personal email and Google Drive. Then, I called my lawyer. “Mr. Green, I want to file for divorce and sole custody of my son.” After hearing the details, the lawyer immediately warned me: “Chloe, do not alert them yet.” “Especially regarding these DNA results. Keep them completely secret.” “Also, if you suspect your child was switched at birth, you need to report this to the police immediately. We need to subpoena the hospital’s records, security footage, and staff logs from five years ago. This is no longer just a divorce case; this is a criminal matter.”

I nodded. “I understand.” After hanging up, I didn’t go home. Instead, I drove straight to St. Jude’s Hospital, the place where I had given birth. I needed to know exactly who started this lie, and when. I walked straight into the OB-GYN department. “Hi, I’m looking for Dr. Carter.” The receptionist looked at me with a strange expression. “Dr. Carter? He was fired two years ago.” “Fired?” I blinked. “Yes. He was caught falsifying patient records and accepting illegal kickbacks. The board did an investigation, confirmed the allegations, and handed him over to the police.” I froze. Once I regained my composure, I asked, “Is there anyone else who can access my delivery records from five years ago?” The nurse thought for a moment. “Dr. Evans, who was the lead surgeon on call during your emergency C-section, is still here. I can page her for you.” Fifteen minutes later, as I walked out of Dr. Evans’ office, my legs gave out. If a kind stranger hadn’t caught me, I would have collapsed right onto the cold tile floor. “Are you okay, ma’am?” I shook my head, gasping for air like a fish out of water, Dr. Evans’ words echoing in my ears: “Chloe, from the moment your pregnancy was registered to the day of your delivery, our system only ever showed a single fetus.” “I can guarantee you that only one baby boy was delivered during your C-section. The entire surgical team can testify to that.” “As for the ultrasound reports you showed me indicating twins? We have no record of them in our database. They are forged.” So, Harry had been plotting this from the very beginning. Even the “twins” pregnancy was part of his elaborate scheme. To trick me into raising his mistress’s child, he had planned every single detail. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Harry on Snapchat. “Stop being angry, sweetie. I promise I’ll discipline Lily when we get back.” “Tonight is my mom’s birthday dinner. We promised we’d celebrate together. Can we just move past this, please?” I stared at the screen and suddenly laughed. “Of course, I’ll be there.” “In fact, I’ve prepared a huge surprise for your mother!” Harry quickly replied with six heart emojis. I smiled coldly. On my way to the restaurant, I called my parents and my three older brothers. “Harry betrayed me. I need you guys to have my back tonight.” When I arrived at the restaurant, Mary’s birthday dinner had already started. They had started ten minutes early, and no one had bothered to notify me. Mary sat at the head of the table. Harry and Nora were seated on either side of her, looking like a perfect, happy family. Seeing me walk in, Mary casually pointed to a cramped seat in the corner. “Chloe, you’re late. You’ll have to squeeze in over there.” She peeked behind me. “Where is Lily? Why didn’t you bring her?” Harry frowned too. “Yeah, where is Lily?” Neither of them had even mentioned Leo’s name. In the past, I would have argued with them. But today, I felt no need. “They were tired from playing. They’re asleep.” Mary didn’t say another word, turning back to chat with the relatives. I sat down quietly, checking my phone from time to time, calculating when my family would arrive. Ten minutes later, Mary’s three-tier birthday cake was rolled into the room. Everyone gathered around to sing “Happy Birthday.” When the song ended, Nora clapped and urged Mary to make a wish. Mary stood up, walked to her chair, and pulled out a stack of documents. “My birthday wish this year is for my son to get a divorce.”

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I spent ten years of my life building this company from a shaky garage startup into an industry giant. But when the layoffs came, I was the first one kicked out the door. Our agreed-upon $500,000 severance package? It magically turned into two scratch-off lottery tickets. Suppressing my boiling anger, I confronted Chloe, our HR director. She just crossed her arms and sneered. “You crashed our biggest client’s server last month, Ethan. You technically owe this company two million dollars in damages.” “Rachel was generous enough not to throw your ass in federal prison. You should be thanking her.” “Severance? Please. Go out and ask around. You have a massive black mark on your record now. What tech company would ever hire a screw-up like you?” In that exact second, I realized what was happening. She was talking about last month’s server crash—the one I took the fall for to protect the company’s new, well-connected golden boy. And the CEO she was referring to—Rachel—was my wife of ten years. The woman who slept in my bed every night. I didn’t argue. I slowly picked up the humiliating termination agreement, spun on my heel, and walked out. What they didn’t know was that I had already been recruited by the SEC. And every single piece of evidence showing how they framed me? I had already packed it up and downloaded it. A month later, at the company’s annual shareholder audit, I kicked the double doors open, flanked by a dozen federal agents. Rachel fell to her knees before me, her body trembling as she begged me to spare her company. I took a half-step back, my eyes cold. “I’d love to give you a break, Rachel. But unfortunately, the federal prosecutor in charge of your case isn’t feeling very merciful today.”

The moment the layoff rumors leaked, panic spread through the department like wildfire. The entire office was suffocating under a thick blanket of anxiety. My colleague, Liam, slid his chair over to my desk and clapped a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Ethan, man, why do you look so stressed? Even if they fire the entire building, they’d never touch you.” “You’re the backbone of this place. We all know this company is only standing because of your code.” “As for me, I’m probably toast. But hey, at least I got to work with a legend like you.” His voice was filled with genuine respect, and several other senior developers nodded in agreement. I forced a faint smile. In truth, the company was indeed my baby. During our startup days, the servers would crash every other day. I literally slept on a cot in the server room for a month straight, stabilizing the platform line by line. Just before Christmas last year, our core database suffered a catastrophic failure. I was hooked up to an IV in a hospital bed, recovering from an emergency appendectomy. High on painkillers, I worked remotely for three straight days to pull our data back from the brink of total destruction. Besides, the CEO was my wife, Rachel. There was no universe in which I’d be on a layoff list. While I was trying to calm the team down, Chloe, the HR director, walked into the open office holding a stack of folders. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on me. She rolled them dramatically. “Ethan. My office. Now.” The entire room went dead silent. My colleagues looked at one another in confusion, though most of them assumed I was being called in for a massive promotion. Under their intense, disbelieving stares, I stood up and calmly walked into her office. Before I could even sit down, Chloe slid a termination agreement across the desk with an impatient sigh. After a brief flash of shock, I laughed. Classic Rachel. She was trying to pull a surprise on me. A few days ago, I had jokingly complained that I was getting too tired to write code anymore. Rachel had given me a mysterious smile and told me to wait three days. I figured she was just looking out for me. After ten years of running myself into the ground, she probably wanted to “fire” me so I could finally rest, take a massive payout, and enjoy life. Plus, I had recently accepted an offer to join the SEC’s cyber-forensics division, though I hadn’t had the chance to tell her yet. This worked out perfectly. Now I could actually spend some quality time with her. But when I picked up the pen to sign, my eyes caught the severance section. It was completely blank. And under the “Financial Liabilities” section, there was a paragraph in bold, aggressive font: “Due to gross negligence by the employee, Ethan, resulting in direct financial damages to the company estimated at $2,000,000, the employee agrees to assume full personal liability for the debt.” I froze. Two million? Personal liability? Me? I slowly pushed the contract back toward her, my voice turning icy. “Chloe, what is the meaning of this? Where is my severance?” Chloe leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Oh, cut the act, Ethan. We’re both adults here. Why play dumb?” “Last month, the core database for our biggest client crashed under your watch. We lost their data, and it cost us a two-million-dollar contract.” “The company didn’t call the FBI on you, which is already a miracle. And you actually have the audacity to ask for money?” The puzzle pieces clicked together instantly. The “screw-up” she was talking about wasn’t mine. It belonged to Jackson, Rachel’s “nephew.” To hit a ridiculous deadline, Jackson had bypassed every single testing protocol and forced a buggy, unverified codebase directly into production. I had tried to stop him, but Rachel shut me down, claiming we needed to “let the younger generation show their potential.” After the crash, Rachel had practically begged me. She cried in our kitchen, asking me to take the fall temporary to protect the kid’s career, promising she would make it up to me. So this was her way of “making it up to me.” I stared at Chloe and said coldly, “The server logs clearly show the crash was caused by database modifications made from Jackson’s terminal. This had nothing to do with me.” Chloe didn’t understand a thing about server logs. All she knew was that Rachel wanted me gone. She tilted her chin up arrogantly. “I don’t care about your nerd talk, Ethan. The liability assessment sheet has your signature on it. The company says it’s your fault, so it’s your fault.” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sign this. Otherwise…” “I’ll post your name and what you did in the national HR WhatsApp groups. Good luck finding a job when every recruiter in the country knows you’re a saboteur.” Disgusted by her petty power trip, I didn’t say another word. I folded the liability agreement and the termination papers, slipping them quietly into my jacket pocket. Fine. If they wanted to play dirty, I didn’t need to hold back anymore.

I walked back to my desk, planning to message Rachel and ask what the hell she was thinking, when a notification popped up on the internal network. To save money on a transition, Rachel had locked my account but set a mandatory one-month handover period where I was expected to train my replacement. I laughed out loud. It was so absurd it was almost funny. Furious, I marched straight toward the executive suite and threw the door open without knocking. The door swung open, and the sight inside made my blood instantly run cold. Rachel, my wife, was wrapped tightly around her “nephew,” Jackson. Jackson’s hands were gripped firmly around her waist, and she was giggling, pressing herself against his chest. Hearing the door slam, Rachel’s face flashed with panic for a split second before hardening into pure, irritated disgust. “Ethan! Do you have any concept of boundaries? Have you forgotten how to knock?!” Jackson’s hands didn’t move. In fact, he pulled her slightly closer, throwing me a smug, mocking look of pure triumph. Watching the woman I had shared a bed with for a decade laughing in another man’s arms felt like a physical blow to the chest. I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. “Rachel… is this the ‘surprise’ you promised me?” Rachel didn’t even bother to untangle herself from him. Instead, she casually fixed her collar. “Since you saw us, I don’t need to hide it anymore.” “Ethan, this company has carried you for ten years. We’ve been more than generous.” “Just sign the papers and get out. Let’s not make this uglier than it needs to be.” A dry, bitter laugh escaped my throat. This company carried me? What a joke. “Sign what? Sign an agreement where I owe you two million dollars?” “Rachel, we’ve been married for ten years. Is this really how you treat your husband?” “Have you forgotten how you cried and begged me in our kitchen last month? You said Jackson was young, that he couldn’t have his career ruined by a mistake. You begged me to take the heat.” “You promised you’d clear my name once his probation was over. And now you’re using it to ruin me?” Jackson sneered, pointing a finger at my face. “Shut up, Ethan! Who do you think you are, yelling at her?” “The damage you caused is written in black and white! You signed the papers, you took the blame. Paying the company back is just fair game!” “And yeah, I let you take the fall. So what? You’re just a washed-up, middle-aged coder. What are you going to do about it?” Looking at Rachel, she seemed like an absolute stranger. Any lingering affection I had for her vanished into thin air. “Fine. Keep your two million. I’m done with this garbage company.” Rachel didn’t look guilty at all. Instead, she flashed a victorious smirk, reached into her desk drawer, and threw another document onto the table. “Not so fast, Ethan. When you joined as our Lead Architect, you signed a key-man clause, remember?” “If a core technical employee voluntarily resigns before their ten-year term is up, they owe the company ten million dollars in liquidated damages.” “You want to leave? Sure. Write me a check for ten million, and I’ll process your resignation right now.” Jackson chimed in, laughing. “That’s right, Ethan. It’s on paper. Don’t tell us you’re broke!” Looking at the contract I had almost forgotten about, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. Back then, Rachel had handed me the contract, telling me it was just a formality for investors. She had promised me that once the company took off, we would share everything. I trusted her completely and signed it without reading the fine print. She had been plotting my downfall from the very beginning. When anger reaches a certain threshold, it turns into a terrifyingly cold calm. I took a deep breath, my mind clearing. “You really thought this through, Rachel. Fine. I’ll stay for the one-month transition period.” “But,” I stared directly into her cold eyes, “starting today, we are done. I want a divorce.” Rachel blinked, stunned for a second, before bursting into a mocking laugh. “Are you serious, Ethan?” “Without me, without this company, what are you? You think you can survive on your own?” “The moment we sign those divorce papers, I’m marrying Jackson. You’re going to be a broke, single loser in his late thirties.” Jackson smirked. “Yeah, Ethan. You’re pushing forty, buried in debt, and blacklisted in the industry. What are you going to do, beg? If you apologize to Rachel right now, maybe she’ll let you stay on as a janitor.” I looked at them, completely repulsed. I spun around and walked out of the office. Laugh all you want, I thought. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Over the next few weeks, Rachel and Jackson did everything they could to make my life a living hell. I didn’t know what lies they had fed the staff, but developers who used to treat me with absolute reverence now walked past me without making eye contact. Some even had the nerve to bark orders at me. The cold reality of corporate loyalty was on full display. Within days, my desk was moved to the furthest corner of the office, right next to the breakroom trash can that constantly reeked of spoiled food. Rachel called it “giving me a quiet space to focus on the handover.” Chloe brought over a stack of physical project archives from years ago, demanding that I manually digitize them and write detailed system documentations for each. I took one look at the files. Most of them were dead projects from defunct clients. It was purely busywork designed to break my spirit. They tried every petty trick in the book to make me snap and walk out. But to their frustration, I complied with everything. I showed up exactly at 9:00 AM, did the training sessions, and wrote the documentation. Whenever I ran into Rachel, she would look at me, searching for any sign of misery or defeat. But she found nothing. My face was a mask of absolute, terrifying calmness. Since she didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me break, Rachel decided to escalate. One afternoon, she called me into her office and threw a stack of financial ledger sheets on her desk. “Upload these entries into our active database,” she commanded. I picked up the sheets, scanned them quickly, and immediately frowned. “These are fake transaction records,” I said, putting the papers down. “You’re inflating your revenue to deceive your venture capital investors. This is wire fraud. I’m not doing it.” It wasn’t enough that she wanted me to take the fall for a server crash—now she wanted me to participate in federal crimes. Rachel’s face darkened instantly. “You are still an employee of this company, Ethan, and I am your boss! You do what I tell you to do, or you can start packing your bags for court!” I met her gaze, unflinching. “Being a boss doesn’t give you the legal authority to order an employee to commit a felony.” Jackson leaped up from the couch. “Don’t talk to us about the law! You’re lucky we’re even letting you work! Do the input, or we’ll find a dozen other ways to ruin your life!” I looked at Jackson, and a beautiful, wicked idea formed in my mind. I turned to him, putting on a look of mock confusion. “You know, Jackson… this kind of database entry is incredibly simple. Anyone with a month of basic coding experience could do it.” “If it’s so easy, why isn’t Rachel letting you handle it? Unless…” “You don’t actually know how to run a simple SQL script, do you?” “Are you really as incompetent as everyone in the office says you are?” The bait was set, and Jackson took it hook, line, and sinker. “Who the hell are you calling incompetent?!” he roared, his face turning red. I sighed dramatically, pulling a black flash drive from my pocket and tossing it onto the desk. “Fine. This USB contains a script I wrote. It will batch-process all the data automatically. Do whatever you want with it, just keep my name out of it.” Rachel and Jackson’s eyes lit up as they saw the drive. Smug, greedy smiles spread across their faces. Without another word, I turned and left. I knew exactly how greedy and stupid they were. Give them a tool to commit fraud easily, and they would abuse it until they destroyed themselves. Sure enough, three days later, Nick, a junior developer who was still friendly with me, approached my desk, looking pale and panicky. “Ethan… they’re going crazy,” he whispered, glancing around nervously. “They didn’t just modify the investor reports. They forged accounting books, inflated our costs by twenty million, and they’re routing international funds to wash the cash.” I smiled gently. “Don’t worry about it, Nick. Just keep your head down.”

Armed with the falsified data, they successfully closed a massive twenty-million-dollar investment round. To celebrate, Rachel booked the grand ballroom of a luxury five-star hotel downtown for a massive company gala. The entire office was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was talking about the party, but of course, I was the only one who didn’t receive an invitation. I didn’t care. I went home after work, ordered a pizza, and went straight to sleep. But around 9:00 PM, my phone started buzzing violently. It was a WhatsApp message from Rachel. It was a long list of premium liquors and wines. “We ran out of these drinks at the party. Buy them and deliver them to the hotel ballroom immediately. Don’t ruin our celebration, or you’ll pay for it.” Without a second thought, I blocked her number. Five minutes later, my doorbell began ringing frantically. Rachel had actually sent three of our junior staff to my house to wake me up. Anger flared in my chest. They just don’t know when to stop, do they? I grabbed my keys, got into my car, and drove straight to the hotel. When I entered the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was loud and alcohol-fueled. A loud cheer erupted from the main VIP table. I looked up. Under the glittering chandeliers, Rachel was standing on a raised platform, her face flushed red from champagne. Suddenly, Jackson grabbed her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately right on the lips. Instead of pulling away, Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the kiss in front of the entire company. They were kissing like starved teenagers, completely ignoring the fact that her actual husband was standing right there in the room. To everyone else, I was the ultimate cuckold, forced to watch my wife parade her young lover. But I didn’t feel anger. All I felt was a profound sense of absurdity and relief. This woman had absolutely no bottom line left. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was my divorce attorney. “Ethan, the asset protection filings are ready. Do you have proof of her infidelity?” I pulled out my phone, quietly recorded a crisp, high-definition video of them making out on stage, and hit send. Then, I opened my secure email app. Time remaining until the SEC federal audit authorization goes live: 1 day, 8 hours, and 22 minutes. I took a deep breath, memorizing their smug faces one last time. Enjoy it while you can, Rachel. On my last official day, I calmly signed my exit paperwork. I had been home for less than thirty minutes when my phone started ringing off the hook from an unknown number. I picked up, and Rachel’s hysterical scream blasted through the speaker. “Ethan! Where the hell are you?! Get your ass back to the office right now! The investors are here!” “They found out the database records are completely fabricated! You gave us that USB drive! You have to come back and fix this right now!” I had anticipated this. I didn’t say a word and hung up, immediately blocking the new number. It was hilarious. When they made twenty million, they didn’t think of me. But the moment the ship started sinking, they wanted me to plug the leak. But the real comedy was just beginning. Ten minutes later, my doorbell rang. I opened it to find three solemn-looking police officers standing on my porch. “Are you Ethan? We received a report that you are primary suspect in a massive financial fraud and corporate data sabotage. Please come with us.”

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After seven years of dating, Andrew and I were finally getting married. I was enthusiastically planning our wedding, only to find out our venue had been double-booked. My dream venue had been snatched away. When I complained to Andrew in frustration, he ruthlessly cut me off. “Are you done whining? It’s just a venue. If this one doesn’t work, we’ll just find another one.” I stared at Andrew in utter shock, completely blindsided by his sudden attitude. After that day, he stopped reaching out to me. Whenever I called, his only response was a cold, “I’m busy.” Ten days before the wedding, I went to his office to surprise him. That was when I heard his voice drifting from inside the room: “I promise you, Chloe. On the wedding day, all the guests will be at that venue. She will be the only bride standing there.” “I didn’t change the address on the invitations.” I froze in the hallway, my heart dropping into my stomach. So, it wasn’t a double-booked venue. It was a double-booked groom.

I walked home like a ghost. My mind was such a mess that I kept bumping into pedestrians along the street. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, crazy!” “Is she blind? What a freak!” “If you don’t need your eyes, donate them!” I stiffened, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah… I must be blind.” The rude passerby gave me a weird look and quickly walked away without another word. They probably thought I was insane, but I didn’t care to explain. Suddenly, the sky opened up. Heavy rain poured down, soaking me to the bone in seconds. But I felt nothing. The icy water mingled with the tears rolling down my cheeks. By midnight, I had developed a raging fever. As I lay shivering in bed, my phone buzzed. It was Andrew. “Audrey, can you bring some hangover pills to the club for me? These guys are totally wasting me.” My body went rigid. Out of habit, I almost stood up to search the medicine cabinet. But then reality hit me. I stopped myself. “Sorry, I have a fever. I can’t go.” There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by some loud teasing in the background: “Looks like you lost, Andrew! Guess you’ll have to buy your own hangover pills.” The sweet, giggling voice sounded incredibly familiar. It was Chloe. I let out a cold sneer, and Andrew hung up immediately. In the middle of the night, Andrew stumbled into the apartment, smelling heavily of tequila. He violently pulled me up from my sleep. “Are you out of your mind? I was getting hammered by my friends, and you made up some lame excuse about a fever just to avoid coming?” “Do you even care about me anymore?!” The suffocating smell of alcohol snapped me fully awake. I held my throbbing forehead, trying my best to stay steady. “I told you. I have a fever.” My flat, serious tone finally made Andrew look at my face. My bright red, flushed cheeks spoke for themselves. He went quiet for a second, then muttered, “Sorry. I’ll sleep in the study.” I scoffed and fell back onto the mattress. There was no way I could sleep now. Soon, I heard muffled laughter and whispers coming from the study next door. It was loud and humiliating. I stayed awake all night. The next morning, Andrew walked out of the study looking refreshed, with Chloe right behind him. The moment Andrew saw me, his smile froze. He instinctively took a step away from Chloe. “Morning.” “The party ended too late last night, and Chloe lost her keys. So I brought her back here.” I just nodded, stepping aside to head toward the front door. Andrew grabbed my wrist. I looked at him, confused. He stammered, “Where are you going? Aren’t we supposed to go dress shopping today?” I paused, then turned to him with a smile. “Why don’t you two go instead? I have some urgent stuff to handle at the office.” Andrew visibly let out a sigh of relief. His smile became genuine. “Alright then. Chloe has amazing taste. She’ll make sure we get the perfect dress.” “Sure,” I replied softly. The moment I left the apartment, I sent a Snapchat blast to Andrew’s family and friends, informing them of the venue change. Then, I texted my own family and friends that the wedding was canceled. After that, I turned off my phone. I didn’t want to explain myself to anyone. I immediately drove to the agency to finalize my passport and visa. I had been accepted into a prestigious exchange program in London months ago. Initially, because we were getting married, I didn’t want to be away from Andrew for so long, so I had put it on hold. But now that the wedding was dead, I was absolutely not giving up this opportunity. When I stepped out of the government building, I saw Andrew and Chloe coming out of the City Hall next door. Both of them were beaming with joy. But the moment Andrew’s eyes met mine, he froze. “What… what are you doing here?” he asked, panic flaring in his eyes. He looked incredibly guilty, his gaze darting away from me.

Chloe reached out, wrapping her arm tightly around Andrew’s. She looked at me with a smug, victorious smile. “Andrew came to help me take care of some paperwork.” I gave her a flat look. “Congratulations.” Andrew tried to step forward to explain, but his hand grabbed empty air. “Audrey!” I didn’t stop. I quickened my pace and walked away. That evening, Andrew brought Chloe back to our apartment again. I looked at them calmly. “Do you want me to vacate the master bedroom for you guys? I doubt the study is comfortable enough for two.” My words clearly struck a nerve. Andrew’s face turned incredibly ugly. “Audrey! Do you have to be so damn sarcastic?” “Since when did you become like this?” “You’re acting like a hysterical psycho!” I almost laughed out loud. I hadn’t cried, I hadn’t made a scene, yet the label of a “psycho” was already slapped onto my head. I pointed at my forehead and smiled. “Well, you’ve thrown so many labels at me, I’m starting to lose track of who I’m supposed to be.” Andrew looked uncomfortable for a split second, but then his anger flared. He violently pushed my shoulder. “Don’t get cocky with me! Don’t forget, this is my apartment!” “I pay for your food, your drinks, and your rent! And you dare speak to me like that?” “Get out! Get the hell out of my house!” He shoved me toward the door, not even giving me a chance to grab my phone. Before I could even process what was happening, the heavy door slammed shut in my face. “Andrew! Give me my phone!” I pounded on the door frantically, but it never opened again. The autumn air was freezing. I rubbed my arms as goosebumps broke out all over my skin. This was the city I grew up in, yet at this moment, I was entirely homeless. Without a single penny or a phone, I had no choice but to walk all the way to my office. By the time I reached my desk, I was utterly exhausted. I collapsed onto the table and fell asleep. The next morning, with the help of a coworker, I bought a cheap replacement phone and dialed Andrew’s number. He didn’t answer. Instead, Chloe’s voice came through the speaker: “Andrew, it’s an unknown number.” Andrew’s impatient voice echoed in the background: “Just hang up if you don’t know who it is.” But Chloe didn’t hang up. She probably guessed it was me. “Andrew, maybe you should go apologize to Audrey?” “She’s a girl, after all. She needs to save some face…” What a manipulative little snake. I let out a soft laugh. It was such a cheap trick. But Andrew’s response still managed to completely freeze the blood in my veins. “Why should I care about her? She has nowhere else to go in this city anyway.” “She doesn’t even have her phone.” “It won’t take long before she crawls back and begs for my forgiveness.” The line went dead. I stood there, staring blankly at my phone. So, he knew. He knew I had nothing, and he did it anyway. I let out a bitter laugh. I thought my heart was already numb, but it still managed to ache. I immediately redialed the number. “Why are you still calling? Didn’t you hear what he just said?” Chloe’s annoyed voice filled my ear. “Have you no shame? Why do you keep throwing yourself at Andrew? Don’t you get how pathetic you are?” I ignored her insults. I smiled faintly. “Let’s meet. I have something I want to give you.” Chloe sounded suspicious. After a moment of hesitation, her greed got the better of her. “Fine. Meet me at the Starbucks on the South Side.” I hung up and headed out immediately. But when the time came, Chloe didn’t show up.

“Audrey! Are you trying to bully Chloe again?!” “I told you a thousand times, there’s nothing going on between us! Why do you keep harassing her?!” Andrew’s furious voice roared behind me, followed by a stinging slap across my face. My cheek burned with sharp pain. I looked at him, letting out a mocking laugh. He felt completely like a stranger now. “Hitting me without even asking what happened? Is this how your prestigious family raised you?” Andrew’s face drained of color. He bit his lip, seemingly unable to find a comeback. Since Chloe didn’t show up, there was no point in keeping the truth to myself anymore. “If I wanted to harass her, would I have called your phone?” “Could I have predicted she would answer? Don’t make me laugh.” I took a step toward him, forcing him to look into my eyes. His expression crumbled, and he took a step back. I found the whole thing incredibly pathetic. I turned around and walked away. Andrew didn’t contact me again, but the wedding day was fast approaching. With only one day left, he sent someone to deliver a necklace to my office. There was no wrapping, no box. Just a bare, tarnished silver necklace. “Didn’t you always want this necklace? I bought it back for you.” Andrew’s text read. I found it hilarious. I called him and said, “Andrew, if you think I’m going to cherish a secondhand piece of trash that was stolen by Chloe first, you are sorely underestimating me.” Andrew sounded guilty, his voice cracking. “Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of nothing?” “You got the thing you wanted, and I’m still by your side. What more do you want?” “After tomorrow, we’ll be husband and wife.” I smiled mockingly. “I see.” That was all I said before hanging up. “Where have you been staying these past few days? You couldn’t possibly…” He suddenly called back, his voice laced with a strange anxiety. For a moment, I felt a deep, piercing humiliation. Anger flared in my chest. “Andrew! If you knew I had nowhere to go, why did you kick me out in the first place?!” “Did you really think…” He dodged the question, murmuring guiltily, “I thought you’d give in and apologize after half a day.” At that moment, I was just so tired. “Forget it.” I hung up and blocked his number. When I walked down to the lobby of my office building, an unwelcome guest was already waiting for me. “Audrey.” I turned and saw Chloe. “Did you get the necklace?” “Consider it a little compensation from Andrew and me. Weren’t you dying to have it?” I looked at Chloe. Around her neck hung the Heart of the Ocean—a blue diamond necklace worth millions that had recently been auctioned off. Noticing my gaze, Chloe raised her chin proudly, running her fingers over the massive diamond. “Andrew said you liked that cheap silver thing, so he used this multi-million dollar diamond to trade for it with me.” Her tone was dripping with smug satisfaction. I laughed. “It’s just trash. Keep it for yourself.” Chloe’s face twisted in rage, but I walked right past her. The next day, I boarded my flight to London. I ignored the dozens of missed calls from Andrew and Chloe. But just as I was about to pass through the boarding gate, a violent force slammed me to the ground. “You skipped our wedding just to run away?!”

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My husband, Brandon, had a low sperm count, so we decided to go through IVF. Before the embryos were fused, I caught him switching my eggs with those of his first love, Georgina. I didn’t say a word. I just switched them back. And while I was at it, I had the doctor swap Brandon’s sperm with my ex-boyfriend Cooper’s. Twenty-five years later, Georgina showed up at my house, grabbing my daughter and crying her eyes out. “I’m your real mother!” she sobbed. My daughter, Priscilla, and I had just returned from an international medical business trip. The moment we stepped into the house, we froze. The living room was packed. Relatives we hadn’t seen in years—the kind who only crawled out of the woodwork when they wanted money—were all gathered there. Looking at them, you’d think someone had died. But the most ridiculous sight was sitting right in the middle of the sofa: Georgina, weeping dramatically. Brandon, my pathetic excuse for a husband who barely ever came home, was wrapped around her, whispering sweet nothings to comfort her. I raised an eyebrow, rolled my suitcase to the side, and looked at Brandon. “What’s the occasion today? Why is everyone here?” Priscilla stood behind me, crossing her arms. Her face was cold, and she stared at Georgina with pure disgust. She already had a pretty good idea of who this woman was. My mother-in-law, Betty, sat in the main armchair. Her expression was tense, and she looked like she wanted to say something but held back. Before Brandon could even open his mouth, Georgina threw herself off the couch, lunging toward Priscilla with tears streaming down her face. “I’m your real mother!” she cried. Priscilla dodged her easily, her brows furrowing in utter disgust as if Georgina were a piece of trash. She took a step back and said coldly, “My mother’s name is Angel.” Priscilla truly was my pride and joy. I squeezed Priscilla’s hand, giving her a reassuring look. Then, I raised my hand and slapped Georgina right across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the silent living room. “Watch your mouth,” I said, my voice ice-cold. Brandon leapt to his feet, pulling Georgina up defensively. He pointed a shaking finger at me and roared, “Angel, are you insane? How dare you hit Georgina!” He raised his hand, threatening to strike me. Priscilla was faster. She stepped in front of me and slapped Brandon across the face before he could even register it. “Don’t you dare touch my mother,” Priscilla said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a terrifying authority. Brandon froze, stunned and furious. He raised his hand to hit Priscilla. But Georgina grabbed his arm, crying fake tears. “Brandon, don’t! That’s our daughter!” Her act of “maternal love” made me want to throw up. Brandon lowered his hand, glaring at Priscilla. “If it weren’t for your real mother’s sake, I would teach you a lesson today!” Priscilla let out a cold laugh. “Oh really? I’d love to see you try.” The fierce, sharp look in her eyes was identical to how I looked in my youth. I felt a surge of pride. That’s my girl. 2 One of the family elders cleared his throat, trying to bring order back to the chaotic room. “Quiet down, everyone!” his booming voice commanded. The room gradually fell silent, and everyone turned their attention to him. He looked at Brandon. “Brandon, you called this family meeting. What is this all about?” Brandon took a deep breath, trying to look brave. He put his arm around Georgina’s shoulders, putting on a show of deep devotion. “Actually, I have a major announcement to make today.” He paused, his eyes sweeping over the crowd before landing on Priscilla and me. I just watched him quietly, waiting to see what kind of circus act he was going to pull. “Priscilla… she is not Angel’s biological daughter.” Brandon’s voice wasn’t loud, but the words dropped like a bomb in the living room. Priscilla snapped her head to look at me, her eyes wide with shock. I gestured for her to stay calm. The relatives immediately began whispering. They looked like a school of piranhas smelling blood in the water. “Twenty-five years ago, when we did IVF…” Brandon paused, pretending it was hard to talk about. “The doctor said Angel’s eggs were of terrible quality.” “To spare her the heartbreak of not being able to be a mother, I secretly switched her eggs with Georgina’s…” What a joke. This pathetic man had committed medical fraud, and now he was trying to paint himself as a saint while throwing mud at me! Brandon shot me a malicious look, clearly expecting me to lose my mind and scream. But I remained completely calm. He had no choice but to keep playing his part. “I called you all here today to witness…” He looked deeply into Georgina’s eyes. “…Priscilla finally recognizing her birth mother.” The room erupted. “If Priscilla isn’t Angel’s daughter, she has to recognize her real mother!” “Exactly! Angel couldn’t even get pregnant, yet she’s been holding onto the Williams family name all these years!” “She’s been controlling the Williams Group assets for decades.” “Now that the truth is out, she should step down from the board immediately!” Listening to their chatter, I felt nothing but amusement. These greedy relatives had been stripped of their management power by me over the years. They could only live off their yearly dividends, which made them hate me. Now, they were thrilled to watch Brandon ruin me so they could swoop in and grab a piece of the company. Priscilla saw the naked greed in their eyes and tightened her grip on my hand. I spoke up. “I gave birth to Priscilla. She is my daughter, and she always will be.” My voice was quiet, but it commanded the room. Georgina put on a helpless, tearful face. “How long are you going to keep lying to yourself, Angel?” 3. I wasn’t lying to myself. Priscilla was indeed my biological child. Did Brandon and Georgina really think they had fooled me? Twenty-five years ago, Brandon had a low sperm count, and we decided to try IVF. Before the embryos were fused, I caught him and a corrupt nurse tampering with my egg storage locker. I even overheard him excitedly calling Georgina, telling her that her eggs had been successfully swapped in. I didn’t make a scene. Instead, I quietly handed the doctor a million dollars to put my actual eggs back in. And as a little “gift,” I had the doctor swap Brandon’s sperm with my ex-boyfriend Cooper’s. On the day of the embryo fusion, Brandon and I stood together and witnessed the “miracle.” He was practically glowing with joy, thinking it was his and Georgina’s baby. I remember looking at his stupid, smiling face and laughing hysterically on the inside. For twenty-five years, I watched him dote on Priscilla like a clown, thinking he was raising his dream child with his mistress. It was the best entertainment of my life. Brandon snapped me out of my memories, sneering at me. “You can deny it all you want, Angel. Priscilla might have come out of your womb, but those weren’t your eggs!” “Georgina is her biological mother.” My tone was completely flat. “Are you dreaming?” “If you don’t believe me, we can do a DNA test right now!” Brandon snapped. “And I’m divorcing you!” “I was forced to marry you. I’ve spent twenty-five years with you, and I have done more than enough for you!” When he demanded the divorce, a flash of pure joy crossed his face. He had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. He did “more than enough” for me? I was married to him for twenty-five years, and I lived like a widow for twenty-five years. While I was raising our child alone, he was out spending romantic nights with Georgina. While I was working myself to the bone to keep the Williams Group alive, he was wasting family money in nightclubs. But he was wrong about one thing. I only married him to get the Williams name and take control of the family empire. And now, the Williams Group was entirely under my control. Brandon had officially outlived his usefulness. “Divorce is fine with me,” I shrugged. “But a DNA test isn’t necessary. I am 100% sure Priscilla is my daughter.” Priscilla looked at me, her eyes steady. “I believe you, Mom.” Brandon and Georgina panicked. “Priscilla, don’t you believe your own father?” Priscilla ignored him, keeping close to my side. Just then, a young man who looked about college-aged burst through the front door. He marched straight up to Priscilla and called out excitedly, “Priscilla!” Everyone in the room froze. 4. Looking at the boy, who shared a striking resemblance to Georgina, I immediately knew who he was. This had to be Brandon and Georgina’s secret love child. They had kept him hidden well. I hadn’t noticed his existence for over two decades. This drama was getting even better than I expected. Betty, sitting at the head of the room, looked at the boy with cold authority. “Brandon, what is the meaning of this?” The atmosphere in the room turned to ice. The boy’s eyes were red, and he looked like he was about to cry. “Priscilla, my name is Miles. I… I’ve always known about you.” He spoke with a slight stutter, his voice trembling. He peeked at me fearfully and then quickly looked down, as if he was terrified of me. “My mom… she always talked about you. She said you were so smart, so beautiful…” Georgina sobbed on cue, burying her face in a handkerchief. “Priscilla, I have missed you so much all these years…” She looked up with tear-filled eyes, playing the victim perfectly. “Miles… he missed you too. We used to spy on you from afar just to catch a glimpse…” Miles nodded quickly, eager to prove himself. “It’s true! Priscilla, I even transferred to your university just to… to be closer to you…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick stack of photos, handing them to Priscilla. “These are photos of you. I… I took them secretly…” Priscilla took the photos and flipped through them. There were photos of her in her graduation gown, laughing with friends. Photos of her looking exhausted after dance practice. Photos of her passionately debating in a lecture hall. Priscilla’s skin crawled. The realization that a creepy stalker had been watching and photographing her for years made her feel sick to her stomach. Brandon didn’t waste any time. He stepped in front of Betty, pointing at Miles. “Mom, this is a true Williams grandson!” “With all our relatives here today to witness, please… let him join the family!” Brandon thought he was being clever. He knew that since his father’s passing, Betty held the real power in the family. By inviting all the relatives, he was trying to pressure Betty into accepting the boy. He was sure that if Betty agreed to let Miles join the family, I wouldn’t be able to say anything. After all, for twenty-five years, he had watched me treat Betty with absolute respect and obedience. Miles was quick. He immediately turned to Betty and said respectfully, “Grandmother!” Betty looked at Miles, then at me. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions, and she didn’t answer him. I knew Betty cared about me. I didn’t want to make things difficult for her, so I broke the silence. “Brandon, your real goal is to bring this illegitimate son home to inherit the Williams fortune, isn’t it? Why drag Priscilla into your pathetic scheme?”

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Seven months pregnant. I found an expired asset transfer agreement in Julian’s hidden safe in his study. Twenty percent of Vance Group’s shares, worth billions. Plus three overseas estates and a private island. All gifted for free to my stepsister, Seraphina. But when Julian and I got married, he only handed me a prenuptial agreement. “A business alliance, just a formality,” he had said casually back then. “Sign it.” I signed it, entering the Vance family with absolutely nothing. Ten years of marriage, and I didn’t even know his PIN code. “Who allowed you into my study?” Julian’s voice came from the door, ice-cold. I turned to look at this man I had loved for fifteen years. No tears, no scene. I just said calmly, “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” He strode in, snatched the agreement from my hand, and threw it to the floor. “An old story from years ago, and you’re making a scene over it?” He didn’t even explain. He just angrily told me to get out. I calmly walked out of the study, pulled out my phone, and made a call. “Marcus, help me find a safe place. I want to move out immediately.”

My stomach started cramping uncontrollably. I leaned against the bedroom wall, sliding down to the floor, fighting back tears as I texted my lawyer. My lawyer’s call came back instantly. “Mrs. Vance, are you absolutely sure you want to waive all marital assets and leave with nothing?” “According to the law, a pregnant woman is entitled to at least” Marital assets? I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. There were no marital assets. All of Julian’s stock appreciation over the years was held through nominees, and all his assets were notarized as pre-marital property. My name was never on the family trust’s beneficiary list. On the day we got engaged, he had casually mentioned that he wouldn’t marry a woman who lived off him. He wouldn’t hand over what he worked so hard to get just because of a marriage. Back then, I thought he was just bitter because his father forced him to marry me to repay an old family debt. I knew how hard it was for him to inherit the Vance Group while fighting off a pack of ruthless half-brothers. So, like an obedient fool, I signed page after page of property waivers. I thought that one day, he would let his guard down and truly see me. But seeing that asset transfer agreement, I realized how pathetic I was. Every single asset on that list matched the exact items I had signed away at the notary office years ago. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to share. It was just that the wife he wanted to share it with wasn’t me. “Marcus,” I interrupted him. “Please draft the divorce papers. I’m leaving with nothing.” My hands were still shaking when I hung up. Not from hesitation, but from pure rage. Ten years of marriage felt like a long, elaborate scam, and I had willingly played the fool. The password to Julian’s hidden safe was Seraphina’s birthday. He was willing to give Seraphina everything, yet my monthly credit card limit was capped at five hundred dollars. Even when I was seven months pregnant, vomiting my guts out, he was busy accompanying Seraphina to her private art exhibition. And the most ridiculous part? I was the one who designed their love nest. Three months ago, Julian brought me a villa’s blueprints, forcing me to work despite my severe morning sickness. “A friend is gifting a villa to his partner. Design it to the highest standard, as soon as possible.” Now it clicked. That “friend” was himself. And the elegant signature on the owner’s line read “S.S.” Seraphina Sterling. The divorce papers arrived by evening. My lawyer made one last attempt to persuade me. “Mrs. Vance, at least keep the money you earned yourself…” I shook my head. Julian hadn’t contributed a single dime to our household expenses over the years. All my income as a designer had gone into running this house. Looking back, I must have seemed incredibly cheap to him. As I signed, the baby kicked violently, as if protesting, or perhaps comforting me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I broke down and cried.

By that afternoon, with Marcus’s help, I rented an apartment. I didn’t care about the location or the layout. I just wanted to leave as soon as possible. It was 8:00 PM when I got back to the Vance estate. The exhaustion of pregnancy made my back ache intensely, but I still cooked one last dinner. All Julian’s favorites. For ten years, I knew his tastes better than my own. Whatever the ending, I wanted a clean break for the sake of our fifteen-year history. But Julian didn’t return until 1:00 AM. He smelled of the perfume Seraphina loved, with a glaring lipstick stain on his collar. I watched him loosen his tie. His ring finger was bare. At some point, he had stopped wearing his wedding band. He saw the cold, untouched food on the table, and his brow furrowed. There was no warmth in his eyes, only deep annoyance. “Playing the victim again? Do you really think this will make me back down?” He tossed his coat onto the sofa and headed upstairs without a second glance. “Julian,” I called out, my voice surprisingly calm. “The divorce papers are on the table. Sign them.” He froze, then turned around, his eyes dripping with sarcasm. “All because of an expired agreement? Luna, since when did you become so unreasonable?” “Your father forced me into this marriage by using a life-saving favor. I had no choice.” “Seraphina has a weak heart. I just wanted to give her some security, a gesture of goodwill!” Security? A gesture? How laughable. Two simple phrases dismissed all my pain. I finally understood. For ten years, the obstacle between us wasn’t anything elsehe simply never loved me. Fifteen years ago, on a rainy night, his half-brothers were hunting him down. I hid him in my family’s pool house for three days. I secretly brought him food and medicine, nearly getting beaten to death myself by those thugs. He had held my hand and promised, “Luna, once I take control of the Vance family, I will marry you in style.” He did take control, using ruthless corporate means. But he “married” me with nothing but a cold, calculating prenuptial agreement. “Julian,” I said, holding my belly as I stood up. “So you do remember that you owe me your life.” He paused, then sneered. “Oh, so you want to settle the score now? Fine. Name your price. How much do you want?” Name your price. I laughed bitterly. The last warm corner of my heart turned to ash. “No need, Julian. I’m truly done with this marriage.” “I want to see the signed divorce papers on the living room table by 9:00 AM tomorrow.” I squeezed out every ounce of strength to keep my voice steady. Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and went upstairs. Behind me, the sound of glass shattering echoed, followed by his furious, out-of-control roar: “Luna! You’d better not regret this!” Regret? My only regret was opening that pool house door fifteen years ago.

The next morning, the living room was empty. The divorce papers had been torn to shreds, scattered carelessly across the expensive rug. My heart clenched at the sight, but then quickly went numb. This was Julian’s answer. He wouldn’t explain, and he wouldn’t let go. My phone lit up with a message from Seraphina on Snapchat. A month ago, she had suddenly added me. Her first message was: “Luna, long time no see. I’m back. Julian picked me up at the airport. He hasn’t changed at all.” Since then, my phone had become a front-row seat to her happiness. A photo of Julian’s back as he walked with her at the art gallery, Julian putting food on her plate, her bare leg resting casually in Julian’s car… And yesterday, she sent a voice note. In the background, I could clearly hear Julian hanging up a call impatiently. “Luna? Don’t worry about her, she always makes a big deal out of nothing. Just focus on the paintings.” The latest message was sent ten minutes ago. It was a photo. Julian was sleeping in her bed, looking peaceful, surrounded by the star-themed bedding I knew too well. The caption read: “Luna, I heard you touched Julian’s things in his study and made him mad?” “Sigh, that agreement was just something he made to comfort me when I was sick years ago. It expired long ago. Don’t misunderstand.” “But Luna, you really look like my younger self, especially your eyes. Julian said that’s the first thing he noticed when he met you.” “Oh, by the way, how is the baby? Julian said he hopes the baby inherits my eyes.” A wave of nausea hit my throat. I rushed into the bathroom and dry-heaved violently. My morning sickness had never been this intense. Leaning against the sink, I stared at my pale face and bloodshot eyes in the mirror. These eyes… I only had them because they looked like hers? Fifteen years of devotion, ten years of marriage, all because a man couldn’t get the woman he truly wanted. And I was just a cheap, flawed substitute. Tears finally spilled over. With trembling hands, I replied to Seraphina. “You always love picking up my trash. Keep him. Keep Julian.” I sent it. Almost instantly, Julian’s name flashed on my screen. I didn’t pick up. I declined the FaceTime call and blocked his number. The world went blissfully quiet. I held my tightening belly, took deep breaths, and forced myself to calm down. Now was not the time for grief. I called a moving company and began packing my things. My clothes, my design sketches, my simple kitchenware, and small appliances… Everything I bought myself was packed into boxes. As for the expensive jewelry, designer gowns, and luxury bags Julian bought to maintain the image of “Mrs. Vance,” I didn’t touch a single one. Even my wedding ring was left quietly on the vanity. The movers arrived quickly and loaded the boxes. Before leaving, I took one last look at the mansion I had lived in for ten years. Beautiful, cold, and a perfect golden cage. And now, my sentence was served. My new apartment was tiny, but it got plenty of sunlight. It took me a whole day to unpack. My body ached, and my lower abdomen felt heavy, but a strange sense of relief washed over me. That night, I received a text from an unknown number. It was Julian. “Luna, come home right now. We can pretend none of this happened.” “Seraphina is in fragile health. Stop harassing and stressing her out.” “And deliver the baby. A Vance heir cannot be born outside.” Looking at the text, I laughed until tears came out. Even now, all he cared about was Seraphina’s feelings and the Vance bloodline. Whether I lived or died, felt pain or sorrow, didn’t matter to him at all. I didn’t reply. I deleted the message and blocked the number.

The day before my scheduled check-up, I went to the hospital. In the ultrasound room, cold gel was applied to my stomach, and the transducer slid over it. The doctor pointed at the screen. “The baby is very healthy. Look, these are the tiny hands, and these are the feet…” The tiny figure was moving, and my heart clenched painfully. With a cracked voice, I asked, “Doctor… the baby’s father is trying to force me to give up custody. What should I do?” The older female doctor adjusted her glasses, looking at me with a complicated expression. “At this stage, an induced labor or giving up the baby would be devastating to you. Besides… the baby can already feel pain.” She placed her hand gently on my stomach. “This baby seems very lively.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. My steps were unsteady as I walked out of the clinic. But at the end of the long hallway, I saw the one person I dreaded meeting. Julian stood there in his bespoke suit, looking every bit the powerful CEO of the Vance Group. “Come back with me.” He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it nearly crushed my bones. “Stop throwing tantrums.” “A tantrum?” I looked up at him. “Julian, you think this is a tantrum?” “That agreement was expired and useless,” he said impatiently. “Seraphina’s heart is weak. I just wanted to give her some security” “So I’m just the stepping stone for your beautiful love story?” I wrenched my hand back. “Julian, do you remember the year we got married, when I had a hundred-and-four-degree fever? You said you were too busy to come home. Later, I saw Seraphina’s Instagram post showing you two skiing in Switzerland.” “On our third anniversary, you said you had a board meeting, but I saw your car in the background of Seraphina’s selfie.” “Every time I had a prenatal check-up, you were too busy. Yet you always had time to go to her art shows, buy her jewelry, and celebrate every single one of her birthdays.” I listed them one by one, my voice as calm as if I were telling someone else’s story. Julian’s expression finally cracked. “You… you knew all along?” “Because I never said anything, I just kept telling myself to give you one more chance, to believe in you one more time.” I smiled, but tears streamed down my face. “It was only when I saw that agreement that I realized what a fool I’ve been.” He fell silent. For the first time, I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it was too late. Way too late. “I will have this baby,” I said softly. “But it has nothing to do with you.” “From now on, the baby and I have absolutely nothing to do with Julian Vance.” With that, I turned and walked away. He didn’t chase after me. For the next few days, I shut off all communication and rested in my apartment. My lawyer told me Julian refused to sign the divorce papers. “Mrs. Vance, if you insist on a divorce, we’ll have to go to court. But since you are pregnant, the court usually favors mediation first.” “Furthermore, Mr. Vance made it clear that if you go to court, he has the resources to take full custody of the child.” Marcus’s voice sounded helpless. I held the phone, silent for a long time. I knew Julian could do it. He had endless wealth and power. I had nothing but the baby in my belly. “Marcus, how long would a contested divorce take?” “If he drags it out and uses his connections… it could take years.” Years? I couldn’t wait that long. My baby couldn’t be born into this chaos. I had to make Julian agree to the divorce himself.

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I was out of town, having just closed a hundred-million-dollar contract. Before I could even send the good news to the team, an email popped up in my inbox. It was a salary reduction agreement from HR. “Liam, as the Head of Sales, you need to lead by example. The company is going through a rough patch, so we’re cutting mid-level management’s salaries by 30%!” I rejected it immediately. But when I got back to the office, my keycard wouldn’t scan. They had revoked my security clearance, and my work accounts were completely shut down. Oh, so that’s how we’re playing this? Fine. I’m going to gift this company a fast-track ticket to bankruptcy! If business is so bad, why keep it open anyway? Looking at the pay cut notice from HR, I was completely stunned. After double-checking to make sure it wasn’t a prank, I replied directly to the email: Rejected. A few minutes later, my phone rang. It was my boss, Arthur Sterling. “Liam, you’re a veteran here. You need to lead by example. The market is tough right now, and the company is struggling.” “This pay cut is just to help us get through this rough patch. You need to be understanding!” “I understand, Arthur, but I don’t accept it. On this business trip, I just—” Before I could finish, Arthur lost his temper and cut me off. “Liam! Don’t get cocky just because you have some talent! This company gave you the platform to grow. Now is the time for you to stand with us!” Hearing him scream through the receiver, I kept my voice deadpan. “I don’t agree to the pay cut.” “Fine! Just you wait!” He slammed the phone down. I looked at the signed contract in my hands and fell into deep thought. Then, I opened Snapchat to get some inside info from a close colleague. “Liam, everyone in the company is being forced to sign it. Arthur was raging just now. He said you weren’t cooperating and that he’d make an example out of you first! You need to get back here fast!” Seeing the message from my team member, Chris, I logged into my email to back up all my work evidence. I wrapped up the loose ends of my project and booked the next flight back. By the time I returned to the office, it was the next afternoon. When I reached the lobby, the facial recognition scanner failed. I tried my keycard, but it had been deactivated. I couldn’t even get past the turnstile. I called Chris, and he came downstairs to let me in, whispering, “Arthur ordered HR to deactivate your card. He said you refused the pay cut and were being uncooperative. Liam, be careful. He’s definitely going to make your life living hell!” “He wouldn’t dare. I just got back from a major business trip. Messing with me now is pure stupidity.” “Who knows if he’s lost his damn mind. HR has already started calling people in for ‘chats’!” “Sigh! Arthur is really suffocating us. He could have at least made the cut smaller!” Make it smaller? No way. A 30% cut on my salary was exactly what he needed to fund his mistress’s lavish lifestyle in Paris. If I hadn’t personally seen his mistress boasting on Ins about her pregnancy and her luxury shopping sprees, I might have actually believed the company was struggling. When I walked into the department, my colleagues looked at me with mixed expressions. Chris headed to the restroom to avoid getting caught talking to me. I sat at my desk and prepared to upload the new contract, only to find I couldn’t log into the system. I entered my password several times, but the screen only displayed: Access Denied. I got the message. They blocked my access and locked me out of the building just to force me into accepting the pay cut. Fine. Let’s have a chat. I patted the folder containing the hundred-million-dollar contract in my bag, stood up, and went to Arthur’s office. Before I could even speak, he sneered. “Liam, you think you’re so smart. A genius like you is far too grand for my little company!” “Arthur, what is that supposed to mean?” “You’ve been absent without leave for more than three days. According to company policy, you are officially terminated!” “No need to explain. Just pack your bags and get the hell out!” Hearing this, my blood boiled. “Absent? I was on a business trip!” Arthur gave me a smug, patronizing smile. “A business trip? Where’s the proof? Where’s the contract? You have nothing. How are you going to prove you were working?” I reached into my bag to pull out the contract, but suddenly, I stopped. Arthur wanted to snatch the contract first and then throw me out like trash. He wanted to drain every last drop of my value. Not a chance. “No proof means you were slacking off. Liam, you’re fired. Get out of my office. Right now!” He pointed at the door, looking absolutely thrilled with himself. “Arthur, are you absolutely sure you want me to get out?”

“Absolutely. Liam, this company doesn’t need an employee who doesn’t know how to obey!” “Understood,” I said. I turned around and walked back to my desk. I opened a terminal on my laptop, ran a custom script, and let it execute in the background. Arthur seemed to have forgotten my background. He forgot that I didn’t just manage sales. I wrote the entire operating system of this company! An hour later, I finished gathering all my personal documents and went to the HR department for the exit interview. Arthur happened to be there. I wasn’t the only one; two colleagues from the planning department who also refused the pay cut were there too. They looked shocked when they saw me walk in. “Liam! What are you doing here?” I shrugged with a dry smile. “The boss told me to get lost. I had no choice but to oblige.” The two of them shook their heads in disbelief. “Arthur has lost his mind. He’s throwing away talent like you?” I didn’t say much. During the offboarding process with HR, I asked casually, “Since the company is terminating me, you’ll be paying out my severance package based on my years of service, right?” Toby, the HR manager, sneered at me. “Are you dreaming? You think we’re going to pay you a massive severance? We’re only paying out your salary for this month.” “Excuse me?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you joking? According to labor laws, I’ve been with this company for ten years. My monthly salary is $20,000. Twenty months of severance equals at least $400,000. If you pay a single penny less, I will see you in arbitration.” Toby’s face turned sour. “Liam, you abandoned your post first, and now you’re stabbing us in the back? After everything Arthur has done for you!” “At your age, good luck finding another job in this market!” “Arthur has taken care of you for years. He only asked for a 30% cut because you’re a veteran, and he promised your year-end bonus would remain untouched. Do you know how many people are losing their jobs out there? Even secure government contracts are getting delayed!” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you know what the most useless department in this company is? It’s yours, Toby. Your entire HR department.” “You do nothing but coast by, you’re completely incompetent, and you can’t even get the monthly timesheets right. You’ll be the next one he fires.” “Tell Arthur I want my full severance. If he doesn’t pay, I’ll drag him through arbitration.” Toby’s face turned purple with rage. He rushed straight into Arthur’s office. A second later, a roar echoed through the hallway. “Liam! You won’t get a single dime from me! And I will personally blackball you from this entire industry! You dare defy me? I’ll make sure none of you ever find a job again!” Hearing this, the other two colleagues looked terrified. They had mortgages to pay and kids to feed; they didn’t have the courage to stand up to Arthur like this. But I wasn’t afraid. I looked Arthur dead in the eye. “We’ll see about that.” He pointed at the exit. “Get the hell out!” “No need to shout. I’m leaving.” Before stepping out, I had already secured all the evidence I needed. More importantly, I had an ace up my sleeve. “Arthur, I’ll be waiting for the day you come begging on your knees.” He sneered. “If I ever beg you, I’ll eat my own shoe!” “Make sure you keep that promise.” I walked out. As soon as I got home, I sent a mass message to all my clients via Snapchat, informing them that I had been terminated and would no longer be representing Sterling Tech. I also noted that Sterling Tech would no longer be handling their accounts. Within minutes, my phone blew up. Clients called me one after another, bewildered by the ridiculous 30% pay cut story. “Liam, why don’t you join us? We can easily offer you a six-figure salary with a signing bonus!” “Come over to my firm, Liam. You can be the Managing Director. You’ll run the entire department.”

I thanked them for their offers, but I already had a plan. Arthur was the one losing out. Now that the clients knew what kind of boss he was, they wouldn’t want to deal with him either. Since the clients trusted me personally, I had nothing to worry about. The next day, I consulted an employment attorney and officially filed for arbitration. Two days after submitting the evidence, the arbitration representative called me. Arthur’s legal team wanted to settle. But they only offered $5,000. I rejected it immediately and insisted on going through the full legal process. If the arbitration result wasn’t satisfactory, I’d take them straight to court. Seeing that I was playing hardball, Arthur spread rumors in the industry to blackball me. The other two laid-off colleagues came to me, and I told them we stood a much better chance if we filed a joint suit. They immediately handed over all their evidence, and we waited for the legal gears to turn. In the meantime, I took a quick trip out of town. Two days later, I officially signed with Nexa Technologies, bringing the hundred-million-dollar contract with me. I was put in charge of Nexa’s entire local division. Meanwhile, Sterling Tech was falling into absolute chaos. Even though I was gone, my old team members were still there. Chris called me on FaceTime, looking panicked. “Liam, the company’s systems are totally crashing. All our code is turning into a mess of errors, and nothing will run.” “Arthur brought in some external developers, but once they looked at the backend, they said the source code was entirely custom-written. They can’t do anything without the original architect. That’s you!” “Arthur is throwing a massive fit in his office. He says he’s going to find you!” I chuckled. “Chris, I actually have an opening in my new team. Pack up your things. Once you get your final paycheck, come join me.” “You already found a new gig, Liam?” “Yeah. Nexa Technologies. And I can offer you a 20% bump on your current salary.” Chris was ecstatic. He immediately sent me two videos of Arthur screaming and cursing like a madman in his office. I tapped my fingers on the desk. This was only the beginning. Arthur, your “blessings” are just starting to roll in. Three days after Nexa Technologies publicly announced our new hundred-million-dollar deal, Arthur called me. “Liam, listen, you designed the system architecture. You must have a way to fix this.” “How about I pay you to consult?” I smiled. “Sure. Pay me my full severance first, and then we can talk.” “You’re extorting me!” “I’m just claiming what is legally mine, Arthur. If you don’t want to pay, feel free to hire someone else to rebuild it from scratch. It’ll only cost you a few million dollars in R&D.” He gasped for air over the phone. “In your dreams!” He slammed the phone down. I didn’t care. I instructed my team to prepare for our product launch. Nexa Technologies’ new product was a massive deal, and the industry was watching. Arthur was watching too. Nexa had set up a major marketing campaign for me, including a solo press conference. I accepted it all. Just a day later, word got out that Arthur had hired a cheap agency to patch up his system using a generic, off-the-shelf software. Chris snapped me, saying the new system was absolute garbage and riddled with bugs. I told him to relax. Arthur had played his last card. When Nexa’s new system went live, it was flawless. It completely crushed Arthur’s patched-up software. In fact, Arthur quickly realized that Nexa’s user interface looked incredibly familiar. It was an upgraded version of the very architecture I had designed at his company—but built entirely on my personal patents. Our system was smoother, faster, and far more user-friendly. When Nexa’s launch trailer dropped, the entire industry was blown away. Right on cue, Arthur called me again, his voice trembling with rage. “Liam! You stole my company’s intellectual property! I’m going to sue you to high heaven!”

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I found out Ethan was cheating on me with his gaming duo. We had a massive fight. In the second month of our silent treatment, he went Instagram official with his new girlfriend. Everyone thought I would lose my mind, cry, and beg him to come back, just like I used to. Ethan thought so, too. But I didn’t. This time, I chose to let go. I assumed we were over, and I packed up all my things and moved out. But after a while, Ethan actually tracked me down. “Chloe, we’ve been giving each other the cold shoulder for so long. Aren’t you ready to make up?” I tossed my phone to the side and kept losing myself in the embrace of the man next to me. On the other end of the line, Ethan’s voice erupted into a crazed, furious roar. I never thought Ethan would cheat on me. “Chloe, was that you playing support in his last game?” My best friend, Mia, called to ask me. “No, why?” “Oh—so your boy Ethan is carrying some other girl?” “No way. He told me he was playing with his boys.” I glanced back at the closed door of the study. Ethan was inside, supposedly in a Discord call with his friends. “No, that support was playing enchanters. Classic girl gamer. Go check his match history.” After hanging up, I opened his game profile. Five pages in a row. It was always the same support player, “BabyMimi,” laning with him in the bot lane. I clicked on her profile. It was definitely a girl’s account, and her bio was filled with cute selfies. Ethan had played with other girls before. But playing with someone so consistently? This was a first. I hadn’t checked his history in a while. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. He didn’t even bother using an alt account. I kept my cool and didn’t bring it up immediately. When he finally finished playing and walked out of the study, I was still sitting by the coffee table, pretending to watch a trending Netflix show. “I’m gonna take a shower, babe,” he said, walking straight into the bathroom. He left his phone on the couch. As soon as I heard the shower start, I picked it up. On Snapchat, I was pinned at the top. The chat history was completely clean. No red flags at all. Refusing to give up, I logged into his Riot Mobile app and clicked on his chat logs with that girl gamer. And there it was. Based on their game chats, they had moved to Snapchat, but Ethan had been deleting his chat history on his phone. What shocked me was that they weren’t just gaming buddies. Ethan was in an online relationship with her. During our five years of dating, because Ethan was good at games, girls were always hovering around him. He wasn’t exactly a saint either. Early on, he loved the attention and never rejected anyone. Every time I found out, I would act like the crazy, insecure girlfriend. I’d throw a tantrum, cry, and force him to block them. But at least he had never officially committed to anyone else.

I hooked his phone up to my laptop and ran a data recovery tool to pull up his deleted Snapchat logs. To stop him from messing around in games, I had learned how to do this a long time ago. Inside the bathroom, Ethan started singing. He was in a great mood. Just as the progress bar hit 100%, the shower stopped. I quickly opened the recovered file. The contents confirmed my worst fears. Since the 18th of last month, he had been texting her “good morning” and “good night” every single day without fail. “Good morning, beautiful. The weather is amazing today. I love you.” On his way to work, he would snap pictures of the morning sun for her. “The chicken today is a bit dry, but the pumpkin is really sweet. Just like you.” He took pictures of his lunch and sent them to her like a daily check-in. “Look, the sunset tonight is beautiful.” He didn’t even forget to snap the sunset when he reached our apartment gate. “The grapes I bought are super fresh. You should eat more fruit too.” Those were the grapes *I* bought, and he had sneaked a picture when I wasn’t looking. “Look at the dinner I made. Looks good, right?” That was the dinner *I* cooked. For the past month, in the little gaps of our daily life, he had been sharing everything with BabyMimi. And the irony was, I hadn’t even received most of these photos. His romantic gestures were exclusively reserved for her. And every time he sent something, her replies were incredibly enthusiastic: “Omg, so pretty!” “I love you too, babe~” “You’re so amazing, I wish I could taste it!” This kind of positive feedback clearly stroked his ego. Thinking back to the beginning of our relationship, we used to be just as sweet. We had endless things to talk about. But after dating for so long, transitioning from college to the real world, the stress of life and work got in the way. We talked less. Lately, he had been spending more time on games, but he always claimed he was playing with his boys. I hadn’t doubted him because I thought it was normal to occasionally play with girls. I just didn’t expect him to cross the line.

“You’re looking through my phone again!” Ethan walked out of the bathroom, saw me with his phone, and spoke in a flat voice. He was incredibly calm. He probably felt confident I wouldn’t find anything. “Ethan, I leave you alone for a second, and you start an e-relationship?” I threw the phone onto the coffee table in his direction. The screen was still lit up, displaying his recovered chats with Mimi in agonizing detail. Ethan visibly panicked. He rushed over and grabbed the phone. “Chloe, let me explain…” Realizing he was caught red-handed, he put the phone down and tried to grab my arm. “What is there to explain? You always complain that I’m bad at the game and refuse to play with me. You told me you were playing with Jake, but it turns out Jake’s name is Mimi?” I held my warm mug of milk, taking slow sips. “We just play games together. She’s just an online friend.” He said this so righteously. As if being “online” made all those sweet, intimate words in the chat history completely meaningless. “But you never sent me any of those photos you sent her.” “Those were just random snaps. They didn’t mean anything.” “If they didn’t mean anything, why share them with your online friend instead of me? You’re bored of me, aren’t you, Ethan?” “I’m not bored of you. I want to build a life with you.” He reached out to hold my hand, but I pulled away. “People who want to build a life together don’t act like this.” Right in front of me, he opened Snapchat, deleted Mimi, then dragged me to his PC, opened the game, and unfriended her there too. “See? I told you she’s just a random online friend. Texting is just a game. It means nothing. I can delete her just like that, Chloe.” He tried to use this to brush off the fact that he had cheated. It was as if the more casual he acted, the more petty and unreasonable I looked.

I didn’t argue with him anymore. To Ethan, the moment he deleted her, the matter was resolved. But in my heart, I had no intention of forgiving him. We had been graduated for two years, and including our college years, we had been together for five years. In all this time, he had never once brought up marriage. Even after we moved in together after graduation, he never expressed any desire to visit my parents. I had been waiting for him, taking care of his daily life. I tried so hard to be the perfect girlfriend, hoping to show him the love of a future wife. But I didn’t expect that even after all this time, he would still be so immature. In his mind, it seemed like we could just date forever. Whenever our friends joked about us getting married, he would just laugh it off. Every time I felt bitter and hurt, I would comfort myself by imagining the moment he would finally propose. I thought, we’ve been together for five years. If we don’t end up married, what was the point of all this love? But this incident proved that he had no intention of marrying me anytime soon. I started giving him the silent treatment, and I moved back to Mia’s apartment. During this time, Ethan texted and called me, but I ignored him. I threw myself entirely into my work. I’m a graphic designer, and I started staying late at the office, working myself to the bone. Before, I rarely worked overtime because I was always worried Ethan wouldn’t have dinner when he got home. Even if I had unfinished work, I would bring it home and pull an all-nighter. Now, work consumed me, numbing the pain.

We had been in a cold war for over a month. I didn’t get an apology or a proposal from Ethan. Instead, in the second month, I saw his post on Instagram. He was official with someone else. It was Mimi. I recognized her face. The announcement photo was a selfie of them standing shoulder to shoulder. They had met up in real life. Our mutual friends and college classmates all thought we had just had a fight, and that I would go back to him crying like before. But this time, I didn’t. I just kept tapping on that photo. Zooming in and out, looking at every detail, trying to find a way to let go. Thirty minutes after he posted it, I left a comment: “You look great together. Wish you two the best.” The moment I posted that comment, my phone blew up. My friends flooded my DMs with shock and questions. I didn’t have the energy to reply to them one by one. Shortly after, I posted my own update: “I guess loving someone for a long time doesn’t mean you get to stay together.” That post was my belated announcement of our breakup. Honestly, I should have pronounced Ethan and this relationship dead a long time ago. I don’t know why I dragged it out. It was as if I just couldn’t let go of the past and kept trying to run away from reality.

When I was eight years old, I saw my mom kissing one of her coworkers, Mr. Davis, in the parking lot downstairs. That scene shattered my world. Since then, I couldn’t look at my mom the same way. I only knew I had to be extra good to my dad because I felt so sorry for him. But at the same time, I didn’t dare tell him the truth. I was terrified he wouldn’t be able to take the blow. And selfishly, I didn’t want to see them get divorced. I don’t know if my dad ever found out, but they are still together to this day. Since that moment, I grew to despise betrayal in any form, whether in friendship or love. I also developed a deep fear of intimacy, especially with men. Even with Ethan, whom I had dated for so long, I would start shaking and breaking out in a cold sweat whenever we did anything beyond basic kissing. So, no matter how hard we tried, we could never take the final step. For a long time, I felt incredibly guilty about this. I always thought that his reluctance to bring up marriage was because of my issues. That was why I was willing to wait for him. I wanted to show him through my actions that I really trusted and loved him. Of course, Ethan had once promised me that he was willing to wait, and that he would never betray me. But as the years went by, he seemed to have thrown those promises out the window. He crossed my boundaries again and again, meeting different girls, playing games with them, and staying on voice calls late into the night. It felt as though he was trying to punish me, provoking me over and over. Maybe he wanted me to know that he could love anyone, but since he chose to stay with me, I should be grateful. As for his real reasons, I didn’t know anymore, and I didn’t care. I went back to the apartment to pack up the rest of my things. “Why aren’t you throwing a fit this time?” Ethan leaned against the doorframe, watching me pack with cold eyes. “Ethan, I just suddenly realized that our five years together were incredibly boring.” “Since when did you learn to play hard to get, Chloe?” I caught the smug implication in his voice.

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