At the party, my asthma flared up. I fumbled for my emergency inhaler. But the bottle was empty. Brandon explained: “Layla said she had a really scratchy throat, so I just handed her your inhaler. You know, for a quick fix. Chew on some throat lozenges, it’ll help.” My breathing was already getting harder and harder. “She has a dry throat, can’t she just drink some water? You guys are trying to kill me!” He frowned, annoyed. “Can you just stop being so dramatic? You always make yourself out to be some delicate flower. Layla’s right, you’re just playing victim.” I didn’t argue anymore. I sent a message to my mom: “My asthma’s acting up, but Brandon gave my inhaler to Layla.” Brandon saw the message and brushed it off. “You’re doing this again? Always running to your mom, are you in elementary school?” He snatched my phone, held it high above his head, looking down at me. I tried to get it back. The moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I stumbled back down. “My asthma’s attacking, please, help me!” I gasped, trying to explain. Just then, Layla walked over, not forgetting to wave my inhaler in her hand. “Oh, Avery, my little princess, are you *really* that bad off? Or are you just trying to get some attention?” “Ugh, I told Brandon we shouldn’t have girls at our guy’s night. Always so emotional, always trying to stir up drama between each other.” I gasped for air, staring intently at Layla. She was Brandon’s childhood friend. She was always one of the guys, super comfortable hanging out with them, even calling them “bros.” Brandon had mentioned Layla to me more than once, always praising her for being a “true tomboy.” At first, I actually had a good impression of the easygoing “guy’s girl” Brandon talked about. After our relationship became stable, Brandon took me to meet his circle of friends. Layla would always act so friendly towards women. “Oh, Brandon, you’ve got good taste! Where did you find this little angel?” “Aww, girl, come here for a hug! Let’s ignore these stinky boys.” But I always felt Layla’s eyes on me, subtly, with a hint of malice. Her methods were clever. She talked about female solidarity, but her actions always subtly isolated me. For example, she would always bring up their childhood memories at parties. I couldn’t interject and could only sit silently to the side. Then, she’d casually joke with me. “What’s wrong, princess? Are you upset because I’m talking to Brandon?” I had mentioned to Brandon that I felt uncomfortable. But Brandon would just call me petty. He’d say Layla was just trying to lighten the mood, and I was too sensitive. Now, however, Layla’s malice was completely undisguised. “A princess will always be a princess, won’t she? Are you upset that we’re not all fawning over you, so you’re faking being sick?” The guys around us burst into snickers at her words. “I’m really not feeling well, give me the inhaler!” I raised my voice. Seeing my state, the room went silent for a second. Then, a more explosive round of jeering erupted. Layla placed her hand on Brandon’s shoulder. She watched me struggling to breathe, laughing so hard she almost fell over. “Oh, wow, she’s putting on quite a show, Brandon. Are you actually feeling sorry for her?” The others egged Brandon on. “Yeah, Brandon, you’re not going to be scared of your wife after you get married, are you?” “Don’t embarrass us, man! You’re the one in charge. If your girl acts up, you gotta put her in her place!” Brandon couldn’t stand being provoked like that. He stiffened his neck, not looking at me. “Who feels sorry for her? She needs to be taught a lesson, always looking for trouble.” I couldn’t breathe. I desperately pulled at Brandon’s sleeve, guttural “hoarse” sounds escaping my throat. “Help… me…” Seeing me like that, Brandon hesitated. But Layla spoke up again. “Alright, alright, Avery, we’re all just straight-up guys here. Nobody’s falling for your damsel-in-distress act.” Knowing it was useless to talk to him, I tried to leave the room. But as soon as I managed to get my body up, Layla shoved me back down. “The party’s not over yet, how can you leave? That’s just rude!” Her grip was strong. Before I knew it, the back of my head hit the wall. *CRACK!* My head spun even more. I didn’t even have time to react. Layla screamed first.

She covered her mouth, speaking dramatically. “Oh? You’re so manipulative, aren’t you?” “I barely touched you, and you intentionally hit your head against the wall just to frame me.” Hearing that, Brandon’s eyes grew even more impatient. “Avery, you’re going too far.” I bit my lip, trying to stay conscious. “I have severe asthma. If you don’t want someone to die, then stop this right now.” My throat burned, every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. But Layla dangled the inhaler in front of my eyes, tauntingly, then dramatically took a deep puff. “Can’t give it to you, my throat’s dry.” “And I gotta say, you get what you pay for. This thing feels amazing.” I struggled to raise my hand to snatch it. She laughed, raising her hand high to avoid me. “No. Not giving it to you.” I was so enraged that my vision went black again. Brandon stood by, arms crossed, watching. “Look at you, acting like a beggar. Layla’s just using it for a bit, don’t be so petty.” “Layla’s seen your medical report. You don’t have asthma; you’re just a little short of breath.” I forced myself to calm down. “Brandon, you’ve seen me during an asthma attack, haven’t you? Why would I lie about something like this?” Before Brandon could answer, Layla interjected. “Of course, for attention! In this day and age, there are always those attention-seekers faking illnesses.” “Heh, Avery, are you like those ‘little angels’ online who also claim to have depression?” Hearing that, Brandon’s friends burst into even louder laughter. Someone whistled. “Brandon, your girlfriend is so petty and uptight. She’s nothing like Layla’s easygoing vibe.” “Yeah, you’ll have your hands full if you marry her.” I gasped for air, using my last bit of strength to reach for the inhaler in Layla’s hand. But just as my fingertips were about to touch it, she deftly dodged backward. I lost my balance and fell forward onto the carpet. “Oh dear, what a realistic performance!” Layla exclaimed dramatically. Then she crouched down and whispered, in a voice only I could hear. “Hehe, hurry up and die. Once you’re gone, Brandon and I can finally be together.” She stood up, intentionally raising her voice. “Avery, stop messing around, get up! Everyone’s waiting for you and Brandon to do a shot together!” Brandon started to feel something was wrong. He stepped forward and helped me up. “What’s wrong with you? Are you really not feeling well?” “Help… me…” I struggled to utter a few words. My hand gripped Brandon’s wrist hard, only broken gasps escaping. “In… inhaler…” Brandon’s brows furrowed tightly, his eyes finally showing a hint of panic and struggle. He looked at Layla. “Layla, maybe give her the thing.” Layla’s face immediately fell. She stubbornly hid the inhaler behind her back, stamping her foot in annoyance. “Brandon, are you blind? She’s clearly faking it! Have you forgotten how she used to throw tantrums like a spoiled brat?” Then, she suddenly yelled at the others. “See? These women always act like this to compete with each other. Brandon totally fell for it!” The guys around us immediately chimed in. “Brandon, Layla and us grew up together. She wouldn’t try to hurt you, would she?” “Girls like her, you know, they just like to make trouble. Can’t spoil her.” Brandon’s expression changed. His hand supporting me loosened a bit. I could feel his hesitation. On one side, my agonizing illness. On the other, Layla and their provocations. “But… her face looks really pale…”

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My mom, Lorelei, couldn’t handle my dad David’s cheating. She tried to take her own life by opening the gas valve. She didn’t die, but I, Aubrey, was burned and disfigured saving her from the fire. Seven years later, Lorelei found a new boyfriend, handsome and rich. A week before her wedding, she started packing my bags. “Look, don’t blame me for being heartless, okay?” she snapped. “You look like a monster. What if you scare my boyfriend’s daughter?” “I’ve raised you for years; I’ve paid my dues. It’s your dad’s turn to take responsibility now.” Then, she dropped me and my luggage at my dad’s apartment complex. I was terrified waiting there because I’d dropped my mask and hat in Lorelei’s car. When I thought to chase her, she sped up, eager to get rid of me. I stumbled and fell while desperately trying to catch her, making my already disfigured face look even worse. After scrambling back to my feet on all fours, Lorelei’s car was gone. So I could only crouch on the ground, burying my face deep in my knees. But thankfully, it wasn’t long before a middle-aged man ran over, panting. He called out tentatively, cautiously. “Aubrey.” I quickly looked up. What met my eyes was a stranger. Seeing my face, the man paused for a moment. But after a brief second, he said, “Hello, I’m Mr. Thompson, your dad’s good friend.” “Your dad’s away on a business trip today, so he asked me to pick you up.” The man’s voice was quite loud at first, but maybe it was because I was staring at him. His voice grew softer, almost a whisper. I’d encountered this scenario many times. Ever since I was disfigured saving Lorelei from the fire, it’s always been like this. The first time I returned to school after being discharged from the hospital, with my face covered in twisted scars, Ms. Davies, my homeroom teacher, was on the podium, trying to prepare the class emotionally. She was telling them not to give me strange looks or treat me differently. She spoke passionately and fiercely, but the moment I stepped into the classroom, Ms. Davies was just like this man; her voice hitched, then she stammered a few times, finally forcing the words out to the class. “Okay, cl-classmates… let’s give Aubrey a round of applause for re-returning to school.” A scattered applause echoed through the classroom. But no amount of clapping could hide the shaken, terrified stares that followed me. After that, there were two kinds of people in my class. Some felt sympathy for what I’d been through. Others were terrified, saying I looked like a horrifying monster and were scared if I even looked at them. But no matter what kind of person they were, in the end, no one was willing to interact with me. Even my best friend, my best deskmate, grew distant. I once overheard them talking in the restroom. “Ugh, it’s not that I don’t want to be Aubrey’s friend anymore, but I’m genuinely scared. Every time she looks at me, I have nightmares when I get home.” So, already used to such gazes, I calmly bent down, picked up my luggage, and said, “Let’s go.” The man paused for a second before snapping out of it and quickly followed me. “Aubrey, is your suitcase heavy? Uncle Thompson can help you with it, okay?” I simply shook my head slightly and then lowered my head again, pulling my collar up to hide my face. Seeing my action, the man quickly rushed ahead of me. Watching him, I felt a pang of derision. I wondered why he was so silly. Did he think his large build would somehow make me less noticeable? But he didn’t know that every step of the way, I was met with stares from children and adults alike, stares that openly labeled me a monster.

The man took me to a two-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t large, but it was exceptionally clean. The room was filled with family photos of my dad, a woman I didn’t know, and a little boy. Even with a quick glance, I could tell it was a warm, loving home. It was exactly like the cozy scene with Lorelei, her boyfriend, and his daughter eating at McDonald’s. As soon as we entered, the man invited me to sit on the sofa and eagerly went to pour me some water. But he fumbled around, but couldn’t find the kettle. Seeing his frantic search, I calmly spoke up. “I don’t like interacting with strangers. You can go now.” The man froze slightly, the smile on his face stiffening. But after a moment, he tried to appease me. “Alright, alright, if that’s the case, then I’ll head out.” Then the door slammed shut. It wasn’t until I heard the man’s footsteps fade away that my rigidly upright posture finally softened. After a moment of daze, I pulled out my phone, intending to send Lorelei a SnapChat, to tell her I had arrived at my dad’s. But as soon as I opened my phone, I saw Lorelei’s SnapChat post. “Waiting for my daughter to get out of school.” The accompanying picture was of a little girl with a backpack walking out of school. My fingers tightened around my phone. A suffocating, bitter ache rose in my chest. I held it back, forcing myself to switch from the SnapChat interface to a food delivery app. Just as I was about to order some masks and hats for myself, I remembered Lorelei hadn’t given me any money. Three days ago, she told me she’d already spoken to my dad, and that he would be responsible for all my future tuition, miscellaneous fees, and living expenses. So, she wouldn’t be giving me my allowance for the month. My eyes felt raw, and I had to lie down on the sofa to swallow back my tears. With nothing else to do, I started to daydream. Thinking of nothing, yet seemingly everything. It wasn’t until the sun had set that a little boy’s voice suddenly echoed from outside. “Mommy, is my big sister really coming to live with us? That’s great! I’m definitely going to show her my new Ultraman!” Hearing the noise outside, I immediately sat up on the sofa, straightening my back. Remembering I wasn’t wearing my mask, I frantically pulled my collar up, trying to hide my face in a messy scramble. But I was too late. As a hurried sound of the door opening echoed, It was immediately followed by a startled scream. “Ah! A ghost!” Then came the sound of a boy wailing. My heart seized, and I scrambled to my feet. The woman who entered was a bit plump, dressed in clothes that weren’t particularly trendy. She glanced at me frantically, then picked up the wailing child. She must have been scared too, her voice trembling slightly. “I… I’m so sorry, Aubrey. I… I didn’t know you were already home.” “Your dad called me and said… said you weren’t coming until tonight.” After saying that, she turned to gently comfort the little boy in her arms. “Leo, don’t cry. What did Mommy tell you before? Do you remember?” “This is your big sister, Aubrey! Weren’t you most excited for her to come?” The boy’s crying subsided with the woman’s soothing, but after cautiously peeking at me, he clung to his mom’s neck even tighter and started crying again. His mom looked at me apologetically. “I… I’m so sorry, Aubrey. Your little brother, he’s just a little boy, he doesn’t understand yet.” Actually, she didn’t need to explain. After Lorelei found a boyfriend, she once brought his daughter home. That day, I was sick with a cold and hadn’t gone to school. As soon as the little girl saw a “ghost” in the house, she was so scared she started wailing like a banshee. Lorelei immediately panicked, rushed over, slapped me, and angrily picked up the little girl, storming out of the house. When she came home that night, she made a rule for me. Whenever I was home, except for using the restroom or eating, I had to stay in my room. Not wanting to be annoying anymore, I spoke up amidst the little boy’s cries. “Where’s my room?” The woman’s eyes flickered slightly, then she pointed to the bedroom closest to the bathroom. I pursed my lips, said nothing, and turned to drag my suitcase to the room Elara had assigned me.

For the next three days, other than eating and using the restroom, I hardly left my room. I spent my days either studying or reading. Occasionally, the happy shouts of the little boy from outside would make me pause my pen. It made me think of when David hadn’t cheated yet. Back then, every day when he came home from work, my dad would carry me on his shoulders, and I’d hold a doll in my arms, shouting with joy that Dad’s shoulders were my very own pumpkin carriage. Then, from the kitchen, I’d hear Lorelei’s nagging. She’d ask David why he wasn’t taking me to clean up yet. She’d say I was always getting into mischief all day long. Back then, I’d always giggle with laughter on Dad’s shoulders. Perhaps life was too beautiful back then, so beautiful that even now, tears welled up in my eyes. Staring at the blurred words, I hastily pulled at my sleeve to wipe them away. But the more I wiped, the more the ink bled on my homework, the more the words blurred on my page. It seemed I don’t deserve good memories. Two more days passed. One afternoon, there was a knock on my door. The moment I heard it, my body instinctively tensed. I straightened up, stood, and went to open the door. Elara was standing there, holding the little boy’s hand, looking at me with an appeasing smile. “Aubrey, Auntie Elara bought you something.” Saying this, she handed me a plastic bag. I looked down and saw sanitary pads. She saw my expression and quickly said, “Aubrey, Auntie Elara saw you were using toilet paper in the bathroom, I’m sorry, so I took the liberty of getting you some.” “Oh, and do you not have any money on you? Can I get your SnapChat to send you some money via PayPal?” I looked at her plastic bag, hesitating. But thinking about how uncomfortable it was using toilet paper, I finally took the plastic bag from her hand. I also complied, pulling out my phone to add her on SnapChat. After doing everything, I closed my door. But within a few minutes, Elara knocked again. “Aubrey, Auntie Elara made you a warm herbal drink for your cramps. Would you like to open the door and drink some? It can really help ease the pain.” “Girls your age often get bad cramps.” Listening to Lorelei’s voice through the door, I clenched my fists tightly. This reminded me of two years ago, when I first started my period. My periods were irregular, and the cramps were so bad I’d be rolling on the floor in agony every time. Back then, I cried and begged Lorelei to take me to the doctor. I told her I was in so much pain, so much pain. My mom snapped at me, annoyed: “You’re so dramatic! It’s just period pain, what’s the big deal? “When do I have time to take you to the doctor? Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to. “Ever since you were disfigured, every time I take you out, I feel like a criminal. Strangers stare at me all the time; it’s utterly humiliating! “And besides, I’m going on a trip with my boyfriend today, I don’t have time.” “If you’re really in so much pain, there’s some brown sugar in the fridge. Just mix it with hot water and drink it.” After saying that, Lorelei grabbed her bag and walked out the door. That night, due to severe cramps and a persistent high fever, I almost died at home. It wasn’t until I crawled out and knocked on a neighbor’s door that she took me to the hospital, and I barely clung to life. When Lorelei was called to the hospital, Her first reaction wasn’t to comfort me. It was anger. “Aubrey, why are you so much trouble? I leave for a second and something happens to you.” “I must have been cursed in a past life to have such a jinx for a daughter!” Thinking of the despair I felt lying in that hospital bed back then, A sudden surge of anger, I don’t know why, erupted in my chest. Loudly, angrily, I yelled at the woman outside the room. “I don’t want it! Go away!” It was a long time before I heard the woman’s retreating footsteps outside. And the moment those footsteps disappeared, tears streamed down my scarred face. That night, I didn’t go out for dinner. Elara came to my door several times. Each time, I thought she was going to knock. But each time, she only stood at my door for a moment before leaving. It wasn’t until midnight that I suddenly saw a SnapChat post from her. “Hey ladies, any advice on how to communicate with a teenage daughter?” My fingers tightened around my phone. The word “daughter” hit me like a ton of bricks, stabbing deep into my heart. Ever since I was disfigured, Lorelei had never publicly acknowledged me as her daughter. Even when she took me out, she wouldn’t let me call her mom. When others asked, she would only introduce me as a relative’s child. When we were alone, she explained it to me. She said if people knew she was my mom, they would condemn her, saying what kind of mother lets her young child get so horribly burned. She also said that my disfigurement was all David’s fault. If David hadn’t cheated and divorced her, she wouldn’t have tried to take her own life, and I wouldn’t have become… this monster. So, I couldn’t guilt-trip her, my mother. If I wanted to hate someone, I should hate David. And hate the woman who was now posting on SnapChat, calling me her daughter.

I initially thought after I yelled at Elara yesterday, She wouldn’t bother with me anymore. After all, she and I were essentially rivals, and now I was like a burden, intruding on her happy family. But to my surprise, the next morning, she knocked on my room door again. First, she told me breakfast was by the door. I didn’t answer. Around mid-morning, she knocked again, saying she’d prepared some fruit for me and left it outside my door. I still didn’t answer. It wasn’t until almost noon that the door was knocked on again. I was incredibly annoyed. I climbed out of bed and went to open the door, ready to shout, when I saw the little boy standing there, looking pitifully, his eyes brimming with tears, holding an Ultraman figure. “Big sister, my Ultraman’s leg is broken! Mom won’t fix it for me, but she said you can!” With that, the little boy rushed forward and clung tightly to my leg. “Please, big sister, help me fix my Ultraman! My Ultraman is broken, I’m going to be so heartbroken!” My pant leg was smeared with the boy’s snot and tears. Just as I stood there, flustered, Elara stood at the end of the hallway, holding a spatula, yelling at me. “Aubrey, quickly go comfort your brother! He’s being so annoying!” “I’m cooking right now, I don’t have time!” With that, Elara disappeared back into the kitchen. My hands clenched slightly. It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “Give me the Ultraman.” The boy, like a seasoned actor, instantly stopped crying. Fearing he’d see my face and start crying again, I took two steps back, ready to close the door. The boy, however, zoomed past me, darted into the room, kicked off his shoes, and rolled twice on my bed. “Big sister, come here quickly! Fix my Ultraman on the bed!” My fingers tightened around the Ultraman figure again. But seeing that the boy hadn’t been scared into crying, I sat down sideways on the bed, my feet on the floor, my upper body stiff. As soon as I picked up the Ultraman, the boy suddenly launched himself into my arms. “Big sister, I want you to hold me while you fix it!” The sudden warmth against my chest made my body instantly tense. Even my fingers holding the Ultraman trembled. Ever since I was disfigured, I hadn’t had such close physical contact with anyone. After all, Lorelei wouldn’t even look at me after I was disfigured, let alone hug me. And everyone else just found me repulsive, a monster. They would even walk several feet away from me if we were on the same path. But before I could react, the boy kissed my scarred face. “Big sister, I like you.”

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Everyone in their circle knew Asher Blackwood had a kept woman, an almost identical copy of his first love, Seraphina Thorne. Early one morning, at the city airport, I rushed out, dragging my suitcase, dusty and exhausted. My eyes lit up when I spotted that limited-edition Mercedes sedan. Pulling open the door, Asher Blackwood was indeed waiting for me inside. “How do you have time to pick me up?” I asked, my bright, lively eyes on my delicate, pale face seeming to hold the entire starry sky as I looked at Asher. Asher Blackwood always hated my eyes. My face was at least ninety percent similar to Seraphina Thorne’s, but my eyes were different. Seraphina’s gaze towards him had always been cold and detached. “Close your eyes.” I obeyed, closing my eyes, a hint of allure curving my lips. Asher stared at my face, so like Seraphina’s, and kissed me fiercely. My soft lips were bruised and tormented, as if he could, through me, possess the other woman. The car started smoothly, slowly pulling away from the airport. Half an hour later, Asher Blackwood forced me out of the car. I stood by the street, clutching my suitcase, watching him in the car with a pang of hurt. “Drive.” Asher’s face was cold, unmoved. The car door slowly closed. I watched the black Mercedes drive further and further away, until it merged with traffic and vanished. I wiped my eyes, swallowing my grievance. I called for a ride. After more than ten hours of flying, I was utterly exhausted. Back home, I showered, removed my makeup, then chugged a large glass of red wine before crawling into my soft bed, ready to sleep. My phone rang. I opened it to see a message from Asher: “9 PM tonight.” I smiled and replied, “Waiting for you in bed.” It was as if the unpleasant morning had never happened. It was our unspoken agreement. At 9 PM, Asher Blackwood was always punctual. There was never any tenderness between us; he was direct, almost brutal. “You’re hurting me,” I whispered, but still, I moved to meet Asher’s force. Asher didn’t say a word, just drove into me harder. My body was like a ripe peach, soft and juicy, or perhaps a fresh-baked cake, warm layers enveloping him, giving him the most comforting solace. He didn’t love me, but I had to admit, he loved this body. I often felt that Asher’s feelings for Seraphina were incredibly complex. Beyond unrequited love, there seemed to be a hint of hatred. In bed, Asher shed his usual restraint and coldness. His heat threatened to consume me. I could only cling to him weakly, letting him carry me into a dizzying whirlwind. I felt like a leaf caught in a storm, lost and disoriented. The room echoed with the most beautiful music a man and woman could make, even the air grew scorching hot. Over an hour later, the symphony finally struck its last note at the climax. Asher withdrew abruptly. “I’m going to shower.” I lay softly on the bed, watching his muscular back. I couldn’t help but inwardly appraise him. Asher Blackwood truly was a catch: broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs, a strict, controlled aura when dressed, but pure primal release when not. Especially that face… Just as I was lost in my thoughts, Asher’s phone rang. I picked it up and glanced at the screen. “Seraphina?” I walked to the bathroom door, holding the phone. “Boss, your goddess is looking for you~” Asher, wrapped in a towel, opened the door. His eyes, cold and piercing, glanced at me as he took the phone. “Hello?” Naked, I brushed past Asher and closed the bathroom door, starting my shower. I didn’t want to hear what they were saying. Anyway, by the time I came out, Asher would certainly be gone. Sure enough, when I emerged, toweling my hair dry, Asher had left. I picked up my phone to find a massive transfer, as usual. In that moment, I felt incredibly cheap, but also incredibly valuable – the kind of cheap that costs a fortune. I pocketed the money and tucked away the lingering bitterness in my heart. What did I have to complain about? I tapped a few buttons on my phone, transferring the money I’d just received back out. Checking the time, it was midnight – the perfect hour for some fun. Slipping into a sparkling slip dress, high heels, smoky eyes, and a bold red lip, I transformed into the most captivating siren on the dance floor tonight. In the noisy club, I effortlessly became the center of attention. I stretched my body with abandon, releasing my charm with the rhythm of the music. Tonight, everyone loved me! “Boss, look at that chick, isn’t that the one Asher Blackwood likes?” a man in a VIP booth pointed at me on the dance floor. “Boss, I think it actually is! The one called Seraphina something!” another man chimed in. “I’ve seen photos! It’s her!” “Why would Seraphina Thorne be here?” Redmond glanced at me. “Most likely his stand-in.” “A stand-in? Then she’s no use! I thought we could snatch her and get some revenge for you, Boss!” Redmond stroked his chin, his eyes leering as they swept over my body. “Forget it, let’s not provoke Asher Blackwood.” “Redmond, are you scared?” A young man appeared outside the booth, smiling innocently under the flashing, multi-colored lights. I emerged from the club, pulling on my jacket. I was always sober; I could have my fun, but I never touched alcohol at bars. “Sweetheart, why don’t you come play with us?” Redmond’s men shouted from behind me. I knew instantly that something was wrong. I turned, gave them a slow, alluring smile, and leisurely slipped off my high heels. “Well, look at you, eager! No wonder Asher Blackwood keeps you around!” The men chuckled obscenely, and my heart sank. These weren’t ordinary thugs; they were after me because of Asher Blackwood. Clutching my high heels, I flashed a dazzling smile. “Asher~ are you here to pick me up?” The men froze, instinctively turning their heads. I seized the moment, spun around, and ran. “Get her!” A hunt began. I ran like a terrified doe, scrambling along the deserted streets at three in the morning. My heart pounded furiously, threatening to burst from my chest. The footsteps behind me grew closer and closer. “I can’t outrun them,” I thought in despair. I could only duck into a narrow alleyway, hiding behind a pile of junk. Carefully, I pulled out my phone and called Asher. He was the only person I could think of who could save me. “Please! Answer the phone!” I bit my lip, silently pleading. My body trembled uncontrollably. I didn’t want to be caught, didn’t want those men to touch me, didn’t want to… With a harsh rip, the torn tarp above me was yanked away. Several men laughed as they dragged me to my feet. Redmond smirked menacingly, his rough hand tracing my thigh. “Those long legs sure can run.” I bit back the disgust, staying silent. Any struggle or scream would be pointless now. I had to stay calm; only then would I have a chance. “Asher Blackwood not answering your calls?” Redmond took a phone from one of his men and dangled it in front of me. “Want me to give you another chance?” “What do you mean?” I felt like a helpless lamb caught in a den of wolves. “Call Asher Blackwood,” Redmond’s expression hardened, his eyes fixed on me with a vicious glare. “Tell him you’re with Redmond, and tell him to give me back my merchandise.” I took the phone, looking at the missed call from earlier. A chill spread through my heart. Asher Blackwood wouldn’t answer my call. My fate, I knew, was sealed. I took the phone, looking at Asher’s number, but I didn’t dial. “Why aren’t you calling?” Redmond watched me impatiently. “Or would you rather spend some time with my men?” “Redmond, may I say something?” I put the phone away, offering a sweet smile. Redmond squinted at me. This girl was truly captivating. “Go on.” “You just said Asher Blackwood has some merchandise of yours. Was it impounded at the docks?” I didn’t know much about Asher’s business, only vaguely remembering his influence there. “That’s right.” “If this merchandise is legitimate, you could call the police, sue him, and then hold a press conference to drag his name through the mud. If it’s not legitimate…” I paused. “Then you should definitely call the police, be a good citizen and report him, and then hire a PR firm to launch a smear campaign. Either way, the merchandise is currently in his hands, and he’ll have a hard time explaining it.” Anyone capable of being a boss wasn’t a fool. Redmond, though getting on in years, usually stuck to old-school methods—direct and unsubtle. After I finished speaking, he thought for a moment. After all, it was a lawful society now. If Asher Blackwood could stab him in the back, why couldn’t he? “Aren’t you Asher Blackwood’s woman?” Redmond looked at me suspiciously. He wasn’t easily fooled. “His woman? His heart is only for Seraphina Thorne. I’m just his plaything.” My clear self-awareness seemed to make Redmond regard me more highly. “Smart girl. Instead of being someone’s stand-in with Asher Blackwood, why not follow me?” Redmond raised an eyebrow. He liked smart women, especially beautiful ones. I laughed, truly laughed, until I shook, a bitter, acidic feeling churning in my gut. To think, as a kept woman, I actually had market value… “Redmond, that would be a different price,” I said, stopping my laughter and handing him my phone. “Here’s my number. Redmond, you can call me anytime you need me.” Redmond chuckled. This girl was interesting. He took my phone, dialed his own number, then glanced at the darkness behind me and nodded. “Alright. Since you’re so sensible, I’ll let you go today.” “Thank you, Redmond.” I took back my phone, lowered my head, and kept my eyes down. Only after Redmond and his men had left did my legs give out, and I sank to the ground. I glanced at my phone. No missed calls, no messages. I wiped my eyes, a bitter, self-mocking laugh escaping my lips. “What’s there to cry about? Wasn’t this all expected?” In the darkness behind me, a dark silhouette watched me, a knowing smile playing on his lips. *** **截断点** Since that terrifying night at the club, I hadn’t left the apartment. I was just an ordinary woman, capable of fear and psychological trauma. But I couldn’t tell anyone. I had no friends; my entire world revolved around Asher Blackwood, and he had no interest in hearing my stories. “Get up!” Just as I was drifting off to sleep after taking a sleeping pill, Asher Blackwood burst in and dragged me up. A glass of cold water was splashed onto my face. I shook myself awake, looking through my dripping hair at Asher. “Boss? What brings you here today?” “Did Redmond touch you?” Asher’s face was cold, his eyes blazing with a fury that threatened to consume me. “Do you believe me when I say no?” I blinked, holding back the burning tears. “You still dare to lie to me.” Asher’s gaze grew even more dangerous. He dragged me from the bed onto the floor and tore off my nightgown. My pale body was exposed to the cold air, water dripping onto my skin. I couldn’t stop trembling. My lips, now white, mumbled the words again: “Do you believe me when I say no?” Asher stared at my face, almost identical to Seraphina’s, and grew even angrier. In his mind, I was Seraphina. This woman had allowed his goddess to be defiled by Redmond. He would never forgive me. “Since you like being touched, I’ll satisfy you!” “What are you doing…?” Asher tore open his shirt and pushed me beneath him, taking me again and again with brutal force. The thought of me being touched by another man ignited an uncontrollable rage within him. He told himself it was only because he saw me as Seraphina. With each merciless thrust, I felt no pleasure, only humiliation, injustice, and boundless pain… Finally, Asher finished venting. I breathed a sigh of relief, only to hear him say, “You think this is over?” I looked up at Asher, repeating the same words, “Do you believe me when I say no?” “Hmph.” Asher scoffed dismissively. He looked towards the door and slowly spoke. “There are ten more men outside waiting for you to serve them.” I stared at Asher in horror. “Asher Blackwood, why won’t you just believe me?” Asher looked down at the woman on the floor. I had the most beautiful, most alluring body; no man could see it and resist. He knew Redmond too well. That old fox would do anything for his merchandise. How could I have escaped unscathed from his clutches? Looking at my face, he still softened. “Don’t leave the apartment without my permission.” I watched his retreating back, biting my lip to hold back my tears. After all, my tears were just an act in his eyes. Only after the front door slammed shut did I finally curl up and sob uncontrollably. In the following days, Asher Blackwood didn’t come back. I was truly caged. I sat on the balcony lounger, gazing at the blue sky outside the window. “Perhaps, it’s time to leave.” Late that night, at Redmond’s villa, Asher Blackwood sat on the living room sofa. “I thought Redmond, who’s dominated the city for years, would be a smart man.” Redmond was pinned to the ground by Asher’s men. He glared at Asher hatefully. “Mr. Blackwood, you probably don’t know, but Jasper Sterling has a share in this merchandise. You’re not afraid to offend me, aren’t you afraid to offend him?” Asher Blackwood sneered. “You don’t seriously think I impounded this merchandise just because of you, do you?” Redmond suddenly understood. Asher Blackwood was after Jasper Sterling. And he had listened to me, holding a press conference and blowing the whole thing wide open. “Damn you! Your woman is as despicable as you are!” Asher Blackwood’s eyes instantly turned dangerous. “You dared to go after Seraphina Thorne.” “Seraphina Thorne? You don’t deserve her! I’m talking about that bitch you keep around!” Redmond continued to curse. “I should never have let her go that day!” Asher Blackwood’s gaze darkened. Redmond hadn’t touched me? After dealing with Redmond, Asher Blackwood left the villa. After a moment’s thought, he pulled out his phone and typed something. I had just finished showering and was about to go to bed when I saw Asher Blackwood’s message: “Come downstairs.” Asher Blackwood took me to the Grand Allure Club. I sat in the private room, unsure what Asher wanted. Asher didn’t say a word, leaning back on the sofa, looking incredibly tired. The door suddenly opened, and a young man entered with several bodyguards. Asher Blackwood glanced at the man, his expression darkening. “What are you doing here?” “Mr. Blackwood impounded my merchandise, so of course, I have to reciprocate.” The man sat casually on the sofa opposite Asher Blackwood. “I, Jasper Sterling, am not one to take a loss silently.” “Jasper Sterling…” I blinked. Could this be the legendary Mr. Sterling who dominated the city? “I’ve already spoken with the patriarch of the Thorne family. He’s agreed to give me Seraphina Thorne in marriage,” Mr. Sterling looked at Asher Blackwood. “What do you think, Mr. Blackwood?” “You dare touch her!” Asher Blackwood’s eyes turned vicious at the mention of Seraphina Thorne’s name. Mr. Sterling raised an eyebrow. “If Mr. Blackwood hadn’t pulled the rug out from under me, I wouldn’t have resorted to such extreme measures.” Asher Blackwood was silent for a moment. “I’ll return your merchandise.” Mr. Sterling smiled. “I want more than just the merchandise; I want a person.” He paused, his gaze landing on me. “Since Mr. Blackwood can’t bear to part with Seraphina Thorne, then let this beauty entertain me.” Hearing Asher Blackwood offer me up like a gift, my heart ached. Was I truly so worthless in his eyes…? “Go.” Asher Blackwood’s voice was low and icy. “Asher Blackwood… by what right?” My eyes welled up. Asher Blackwood gave me a cold glance. “Isn’t this what you’re paid for?” My heart gave a sharp pang. Yes, in his eyes, wasn’t I just a woman who sold her body for money and clung to wealth…? I walked over to Jasper Sterling, and in a sweet, demure voice, I called out, “Mr. Sterling.” Jasper Sterling nodded in satisfaction, pulling me onto his lap. We drank and played drinking games right in front of Asher Blackwood, having a grand time. Asher Blackwood watched my jacket being removed, revealing my beautiful collarbone and smooth back. His eyes darkened, a nameless irritation churning within him. I sat in Jasper Sterling’s arms, my slender arm resting on his shoulder. In the dim light, I looked at Asher Blackwood opposite us, and my heart felt a little sore. He wouldn’t care about me anyway. In his eyes, I wasn’t even a pet, just a cheap object to be given away and played with. Fighting back tears, I downed a large glass of red wine. I didn’t care anymore. I should have known how insignificant and laughable I was to Asher Blackwood. He wouldn’t even believe I was with him because I loved him. Jasper Sterling’s breath fell on my ear, and his hand explored under my dress. I didn’t even struggle; I lay submissively on the sofa, turning my head as tears finally streamed down my face, unstoppable. Asher Blackwood didn’t see my tears. All he saw was my submission and willingness towards Jasper Sterling. Asher Blackwood’s anger surged uncontrollably. He strode over, grabbed me, and slapped me. “You slut!” I fell to the floor, my cheek burning with pain. I subtly wiped away my tears, looked up at Asher Blackwood, and laughed. “Don’t you know I’m a slut, Mr. Blackwood? Isn’t that why you make me do these things?” “Get out! Don’t let me see your face again!” Asher Blackwood’s mind was a mess. He told himself he definitely didn’t care about me; he just cared about my face, which was so similar to Seraphina Thorne’s. Lost and distraught, I stumbled out of Grand Allure. Barefoot on the asphalt, wearing only a short skirt, my provocative figure drew unwanted attention. “Boss! It’s her!” I heard the voice and looked back. It was Redmond! “Grab her!” Redmond’s expression turned vicious when he saw me. I turned and ran. I knew if I fell into Redmond’s hands this time, my fate would be dire. I ran into the parking garage and bumped into Asher Blackwood. “Asher Blackwood! Save me!” “What game are you playing now?” Asher Blackwood looked at me impatiently. “No! It’s not! It’s Redmond, his men are chasing me!” I clutched Asher Blackwood’s arm, looking back in terror, but there was no one behind me. Not a single one of the pursuers had followed. “Hmph.” Asher Blackwood sneered. “At least come up with a better sob story.” My heart instantly turned cold. “Asher Blackwood, why won’t you ever believe me…?” “Don’t play any more tricks, and don’t let me see you again.” Asher Blackwood coldly shook off my hand, got into his car, and drove away. “You little bitch, you’ve fallen into my hands this time.” As Asher Blackwood’s car sped off, Redmond and his men emerged from the shadows. I didn’t even have time to run before they surrounded me. Redmond grabbed my neck tightly, lifting me and pinning me against the wall. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, even trying to trick me.” My neck burned with pain, and my breathing grew difficult. I watched the taillights disappear into the night. Asher Blackwood really left… I felt like a broken doll, cruelly tossed aside. Several men swarmed me, tearing my clothes, but I just stared intently in the direction Asher Blackwood had gone. He could have saved me… Why… Why couldn’t he believe me just once…? “Ahem.” Jasper Sterling walked over, coughed lightly, and looked at me, barely clothed on the ground. He raised a hand and slapped Redmond. “Mr. Sterling…” Redmond lowered his head, not daring to speak. “Asher Blackwood gave her to me,” Jasper Sterling said, taking off his jacket and covering me. “Understood, understood. I wouldn’t dare touch Mr. Sterling’s woman.” Redmond, trembling, quickly led his men away. Jasper Sterling looked at me on the ground. Beaten like this, I hadn’t begged or made a sound. This woman was interesting. He picked me up and turned, only to see Asher Blackwood’s black Mercedes parked not far away. Asher Blackwood watched us, gripping the steering wheel. He must have been insane to believe me, to drive back like a fool. His face was cold as he watched Jasper Sterling place me in his car. I didn’t resist at all. Asher Blackwood felt a surge of uncontrollable anger. His phone rang. Asher Blackwood frowned, seeing it was Seraphina Thorne. He took a deep breath, suppressing the inexplicable rage in his heart, and answered as gently as possible. “Seraphina? What’s wrong?” “Asher, Father is going to marry me off to Jasper Sterling, and I don’t like him.” Seraphina’s voice on the phone was filled with such raw hurt. “Don’t worry, I’ve already taken care of it for you. Just focus on your recovery abroad.” I slowly woke up to find myself in a car. I looked at the man’s back in front and tentatively called out, “Asher Blackwood?” “Hmph.” Jasper Sterling, who was driving, sneered. “Do you think it would be him?” “Mr. Sterling?” I pursed my lips. “Thank you.” The car drove fast. I leaned against the window, watching the night scenery fly by. I thought of Asher Blackwood. He really hadn’t come to save me. I didn’t believe he hadn’t seen Redmond; he just didn’t care. My innocence, my life or death, meant nothing to him… “Get out.” I froze, realizing the car had stopped. I quickly got out, afraid he’d misunderstand that I wanted to stay. The car drove away, and I realized I was still wearing Jasper Sterling’s jacket. The night wind swept past, and I pulled the jacket tighter. “Forget it. I’ll return it to him next time I get the chance.” In the darkness, Asher Blackwood stared at me like a hungry wolf. He watched me get out of Jasper Sterling’s car, watched me reluctantly pull Jasper Sterling’s jacket tighter. This woman had truly betrayed him! I was completely unaware of Asher Blackwood standing in the shadows. I turned and walked into my apartment. As the elevator doors opened, someone shoved me inside. “Ah!” I screamed, pinned against the elevator wall, terrified. “What? You don’t want me to touch you now?” Asher Blackwood pressed against my back, his voice low as he spoke into my ear. “Asher Blackwood! You bastard!” I struggled desperately. This was an elevator, there were cameras! I didn’t want this here! But Asher Blackwood completely ignored my resistance. He ripped off the jacket I was wearing. My body was covered in bruises, full of injuries. In his eyes, these were all marks of my depravity with Jasper Sterling. My knees were forced apart. I bit my lip, shaking my head violently. “No… Asher Blackwood, please don’t do this here…” “Hmph.” Asher Blackwood thrust into my tight warmth. “Ah!” A tearing pain ripped through my lower body. “Asher Blackwood! You bastard!” Asher Blackwood pinned me ruthlessly in the elevator, thrusting and grinding without mercy. Neither of us found any pleasure; it was only for punishment, for torment, to erase any other man’s marks from my body. I was in agony. My dignity, my love, were all crushed by Asher Blackwood. My lips were bitten raw, the metallic taste of blood constantly irritating my throat. Finally, after Asher Blackwood’s last thrust, I vomited. Asher Blackwood watched me, cold and sinister, sprawled on the floor. “You utterly disgust me.” The elevator doors opened. Asher Blackwood walked out, leaving me disheveled and slumped inside. The camera above flashed its red light, recording everything… After a night of torment, I developed a fever. I lay weakly in bed, thinking that if I could just die like this, it wouldn’t be so bad. My phone pinged. I saw the message: “Evergreen Care Center.” I forced myself to sit up and read the entire message. A relieved smile appeared on my face. My fingers gently caressed the phone screen, which displayed a photo of an elderly woman. She looked very well. “It seems the care center is taking good care of Grandma.” Thinking of Grandma, I found a new will to live. The hospital was bustling with people. I, all alone, forced myself to stay strong, underwent examinations, collected reports, and sat before the doctor, feeling uncontrollably dizzy. “Just a common fever,” the doctor said, glancing at the reports. “But you’re pregnant, so you need to be careful with medication.” “Wait, what did you just say?” I rubbed my temples, suspecting I’d misheard. “You’re pregnant,” the doctor repeated. I froze on the spot. I was pregnant with Asher Blackwood’s child? I walked out of the hospital in a daze, my hand instinctively resting on my lower abdomen. I still couldn’t quite believe it—a life was growing inside me… The taxi stopped at the apartment building. As I got out, I saw a pile of clothes on the ground, thrown out like trash by the street. “These are my things…” I stared blankly at my luggage. Asher Blackwood walked out of the building, his two bodyguards throwing the remaining boxes at my feet, their contents spilling onto the road. “Asher Blackwood, what are you doing now…?” My face was pale, and I felt even dizzier. The bodyguards stood in front of me, blocking me from going up. “Ms. Hayes, Mr. Blackwood requests that you move out.” I looked up at Asher Blackwood, standing imperiously on the stairs, my eyes red. “Asher Blackwood…” Asher Blackwood didn’t even glance at me. He walked down the stairs, got into his car, and sped away. The bodyguards looked a little regretful. “Ms. Hayes, Ms. Thorne is back. She’s not happy with your presence, so… please don’t blame Mr. Blackwood.” After saying that, they got into the car behind him and followed Asher Blackwood away. I stood there, stunned. The sun was so bright, yet I felt cold, a coldness that seeped from my very core. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “So, the real owner is back.” I crouched on the ground, picking up my clothes one by one. People came and went on the street, pointing and whispering, but I ignored them all. My dignity had already been crushed by Asher Blackwood anyway… I slept in the hotel until evening before finally getting up. I touched my forehead; the fever had broken, and I felt much better. I picked up my phone and saw a breaking news alert. “Late-Night Elevator Affair: Beauty’s Scandalous Performance!” My hands trembled as I clicked on the notification. The news article featured many screenshots from the video: it was Asher Blackwood and me. Only Asher Blackwood’s face was pixelated, while mine was disturbably clear. “Who did this…?” *Ring! Ring!* My phone suddenly rang. I looked to see it was Asher Blackwood. “You’re the one who leaked the footage, aren’t you?” Asher Blackwood’s voice was frigid. “I underestimated your cunning. Unfortunately, you targeted the wrong person.” “It wasn’t me…” I mumbled, my voice barely audible. I was the victim, wasn’t I? Why could Asher Blackwood accuse me so righteously, unwilling to even hear my explanation? “Seraphina saw the news, and her old illness flared up again. If anything happens to her, I’ll make you pay with your life!” Asher Blackwood hung up, leaving me alone, clutching the phone and silently weeping. At the hospital, Seraphina Thorne’s pale face looked at Asher Blackwood with a hint of apology. “Asher, I don’t blame you. I know how hard it must have been for you all these years I was gone. I just…” Before she could finish, tears streamed down her face. Asher Blackwood held her protectively. “It’s all my fault.” “I don’t blame you.” Seraphina Thorne shook her head, blushing as she leaned into Asher Blackwood’s embrace. “Now that I’m back, you won’t need to look for other women.” Asher Blackwood was silent for a moment. “Your health isn’t good, we’re not in a hurry.” Seraphina Thorne’s eyes darkened. “Asher, before I went abroad, you said we’d get married when I came back. So… does that still count?” “Of course it counts. We’ll get married next month.” Asher Blackwood hugged Seraphina Thorne tightly, but for some reason, the tighter he held her, the emptier he felt inside. Asher Blackwood left. Seraphina Thorne sat on the hospital bed, shedding her frail demeanor. She looked at the video screenshots on her phone, her eyes growing increasingly vicious. She dialed a number. “Find out who that woman in the video is. I want all her information.” I locked myself in the hotel room. I didn’t dare to go out, didn’t want to go out, just hoping this whole thing would blow over quickly. But someone seemed to have leaked my hotel information, and every night, men would knock on my door. I called the hotel to complain, but they would only implicitly hint at my supposed fault. I called the police, but when they arrived and saw it was me, they would just shake their heads and leave. I would scream for the people outside to go away, but they would only grow more excited, laughing louder. I could only cover my ears, hiding in the corner of the room. I bit my lip, trying not to cry. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong. Was loving Asher Blackwood my biggest mistake…? My phone rang. I gripped this single point of light in the darkness. “Tomorrow afternoon at 2 PM, Moonlight Cafe.” “Who is this…?” I looked at the number; it wasn’t Asher Blackwood’s. There was no reply. I wearily buried my head in my knees. Forget it, whoever it was, I had nothing left to lose anyway. At the cafe, I looked at Seraphina Thorne sitting opposite me, feeling a little lost. Why was she looking for me…? The ‘real owner’ looking for the ‘stand-in’ usually meant she wanted me to leave Asher Blackwood, but I had no relationship with him anymore… “Leave Asher.” Seraphina Thorne cut straight to the point. “I think you might be mistaken,” I tried to explain that I had no connection to Asher Blackwood anymore. “Mistaken? I’ve seen plenty of people like you abroad.” Seraphina Thorne scoffed derisively. “How much money will it take for you to disappear?” I bit my lip. “I don’t want money…” “Don’t tell me you love him.” Seraphina Thorne paused. “You don’t deserve him. Just take the money and leave.” Leave? How I longed to leave this city that had brought me so much pain. But I couldn’t go. Grandma still lived in the care center here. Her mental state had only just stabilized; if she were moved to an unfamiliar place and stimulated, who knew what might happen. I shook my head. “Ms. Thorne, you’re really mistaken. I’m not…” Before I could finish, Seraphina Thorne slapped me. “Don’t refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit.” My head snapped sideways from the blow. I closed my eyes. Why was I enduring all this humiliation?! I stood up. I didn’t want to say anything more to Seraphina Thorne. If we couldn’t agree, it was better to leave quickly. “Ms. Hayes, please don’t hit me! I truly love Asher…” Seraphina Thorne opposite me suddenly burst into tears. Before I could react, someone grabbed me from behind. It was Asher Blackwood. “Who gave you permission to bother Seraphina?” His gaze at me was colder and more ruthless. “You truly have so many tricks up your sleeve, woman.” “I didn’t…” I didn’t want to explain anymore. Whatever I said, Asher Blackwood wouldn’t believe me, so why waste my breath? “If you dare to go near Seraphina again, I won’t hold back.” Asher Blackwood darkly threw me to the ground. I watched Asher Blackwood gently embrace Seraphina Thorne and leave, finding it somewhat amusing. I tilted my head back, trying to hold back the flowing tears, but failed. My heart truly ached, so much… I looked at the collection notices on my phone and sighed. Grandma’s care center fees were due again. I checked the money in my card, feeling a bit heavy-hearted. It seemed I’d have to go to the care center and negotiate with the director; maybe I could defer for a while. The care center was in a remote location, but the environment was excellent—nestled by mountains and rivers, secluded from the world, perfect for Grandma. I talked with the director for a long time before he agreed to defer for three months. I breathed a sigh of relief. I then went to see Grandma. She still didn’t recognize me, but she would affectionately hold my hand and tell me, “I have a granddaughter, about your age. She’s a very good girl.” After returning from the care center, I started looking for a job. All I wanted was to make money now. Although I didn’t have much work experience, my university design projects had won awards. But for some reason, all my job applications seemed to vanish into a black hole. I waited three more days, but no company called me, not even for an interview. The more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed, so I simply called one. The person on the other end expressed great interest in my resume, but after hearing my name, they hung up. I listened to the dial tone, and instantly understood. It was Asher Blackwood, wasn’t it? Was he truly trying to push me to the brink of despair…? *Ring! Ring!* My phone rang. I quickly answered, afraid of missing a job opportunity.

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“Look at these photos! You disgust me!” Julian leaned down, snatched an envelope from the coffee table, pulled out a thick stack of pictures, and hurled them at me. Dozens of photos scattered instantly, fluttering wildly before landing all over the floor. I stared at Julian, utterly bewildered, then picked up one that had landed on the sofa in front of me. “This…” My voice died in my throat the moment I saw the picture, my wide, innocent eyes staring, round as saucers. I quickly gathered all the photos around me. Each one showed a naked man and woman passionately entangled in a luxurious King-Size hotel bed, doing things that made my face burn with shame. And the woman in the photos was me. “What ‘this’? I never would have thought that Chloe Davis, the heiress of the mighty Davis Empire, would stoop to such shameless acts!” Julian roared, his voice deafening, laced with uncontrollable fury. “No, I didn’t, Julian. I’ve never done anything to betray you…” I reached out, tugging at the hem of his jacket, pleading pitifully, tears welling in my eyes. He violently my hand away and took a few steps forward. “Enough! The evidence is right in front of me. Stop your act; it makes me sick.” I slumped onto the sofa, sobbing helplessly. “Mrs. Jenkins, bring the medicine over for her.” Julian’s thin lips pressed together as if he’d made a grave decision, then he suddenly called out. Mrs. Jenkins walked straight over, holding a small white porcelain bowl in her hands. “What medicine?” I lifted my head at his words, my swollen eyes questioning Mrs. Jenkins. “Young Master, this…” Mrs. Jenkins looked at Julian, a hint of difficulty in her expression. “Abortion pills,” he pronounced, the words chillingly firm. Boom! It felt like a thunderclap had exploded in my mind. I slapped the bowl out of Mrs. Jenkins’ hand and stood up. “Julian Thorne, are you insane? You’re making me drink abortion pills!” “Why else would I keep that bastard child?!” Julian was clearly enraged by my outburst. He turned, his voice dark and menacing. “It’s your child, it’s not a bastard! It’s not!” I shrieked, my voice raw and hoarse. “Enough!” Julian roared. He took a massive stride forward and suddenly gripped my neck. “Today, you will drink this medicine, whether you want to or not!” I struggled desperately, but I couldn’t break free from his iron grip. My face turned crimson from lack of oxygen. Soon, Mrs. Jenkins brought another bowl, and Julian finally released his hand from my throat. “Cough, cough,” I gasped, sucking in fresh air, but Julian roughly shoved me back, pinning me beneath him. “You… you can’t do this to me!” My hands were firmly pressed down by his leg, unable to move. Only my feet flailed wildly, but it was useless. “Why can’t I? Who do you think you are?” Julian’s eyes gleamed with a chilling coldness. He pinched my chin with one hand, forcing my head up, and took the medicine bowl from Mrs. Jenkins with the other. “Julian, I beg you, don’t do this to me! Please, don’t!” My tears gushed out like a broken dam. I pleaded, my voice hoarse from crying. But the man was heartless, completely unmoved. He ignored my pleas, not even a flicker of emotion crossing his face. He brought the bowl to my lips and forcefully poured the liquid down my throat. “Cough, cough, cough…” I choked violently, the bitter concoction spilling over me, though most of it was forced down. “Mrs. Jenkins, from today onwards, without my permission, my wife won’t be allowed to step foot outside this villa.” Julian stood up, casting a disdainful glance at me crumpled on the sofa, issuing his command like an arrogant king. “You!” I started to speak, but a knife-twisting pain suddenly erupted in my lower abdomen. I clutched my stomach and curled up on the sofa. Blood seeped from beneath my dress, quickly staining the fabric. I felt a wet warmth spreading, and I struggled to speak to Julian, “Please, save my baby…” But the man remained completely indifferent, not even sparing me a glance before he stormed out the door. The pain was so intense that my whole body slid from the sofa to the floor, large beads of sweat trickled down my forehead. Mrs. Jenkins had quietly retreated at some point, and in the vast villa, only my agonizing moans could be faintly heard. I felt as if my child was slipping away with every passing second, yet I was utterly helpless, my lips parched and pale. There was no one to even call for help. The intense pain spread from my stomach throughout my entire body. Tears mingled with sweat and the blood on my dress, soaking my clothes in a truly horrific sight. Before long, the pain consumed me, and I lost consciousness. When I woke again, I was in this familiar room, dressed in clean clothes. This had once been our bridal suite, every corner filled with memories of our happy moments. But now, the entire room felt chillingly cold, like a faded painting devoid of color, lifeless and desolate. Instinctively, I placed a hand on my lower abdomen, but my flat stomach was a cruel reminder: my baby was gone. Tears sprang from my eyes again, soaking the pillow beneath me. I longed to cry my heart out, but at that moment, I could only weep silently, my sobs almost imperceptible. Since I woke up, Mrs. Jenkins had brought me three meals a day on a small tray, but I hadn’t touched a drop of food or water. I felt like a hollow shell, a walking corpse. I’d open my eyes and simply stare blankly out the window for an entire day. And so, on the third day, Julian appeared. Still half-asleep, I felt a massive jolt. When I opened my eyes, I was already being dragged from the bed, my weak body roughly pressed against the dining table by Julian. “Eat,” he said, his voice cold, as he leaned one hand on the table, standing inches from me. I didn’t even lift an eyelid, my gaze still vacant and distant, my face utterly devoid of emotion. “You’re going to eat, do you hear me!” Julian snarled, grabbing the bowl of porridge from the table and shoving it into my hands, his intensity as if he could devour me whole. But I slowly, deliberately, placed the bowl back on the table, a slight curve to my lips. “What, are you afraid I’ll starve to death?” “Afraid? You think too highly of yourself. You gave me such a huge slap in the face; I haven’t tormented you enough yet. How could I let you die so easily?” Julian’s voice echoed like a demon’s in my ears. For a moment, my eyes widened. I couldn’t understand where the loving, tender Julian I once knew had gone. The man before me was so cold, it was as if we were strangers. He picked up the bowl again, scooping a large spoonful of porridge, and brought it to my lips. But I suddenly recoiled, standing up and putting distance between us. When Mrs. Jenkins called him, telling him I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for two days, he’d dropped everything and rushed back without a thought. This foolish woman, trying to go on a hunger strike. Fine, she thought this would set her free, did she? Dream on! Julian took a large sip from the porridge bowl, then closed the distance between us in a few quick strides. Seeing him approach, I instinctively backed away, my eyes wide, as if I were looking at something utterly repulsive. “Ah!” My lower back hit the window railing, and I cried out in pain. Before I could react, Julian had me cornered against the floor-to-ceiling window. I looked up into his eyes. “What are you doin’…” My words were cut short as Julian’s kiss landed precisely on my lips. I struggled fiercely, but he held me tight against him, my hands pinned behind my back, his arm clamped around my waist. Then, slowly, he forced the porridge from his mouth into mine, making me swallow every drop. “You!” I glared at him indignantly, frantically wiping my lips. “Well, are you going to finish the porridge obediently, or do you want me to keep feeding you?” Julian asked playfully. “I’ll drink it myself!” I glared back at him. “Good, saves us both trouble.” And so, under Julian’s watchful eye, I finished the entire bowl of porridge. Afterward, Julian didn’t linger. He gave a couple of instructions to Mrs. Jenkins and then left. Having witnessed this man’s ruthless methods, I sat motionless at the dining table, a bitter smile on my face. Was this truly the same man who had once sworn eternal love to me? It was all so unbelievable… Unexpectedly, Julian returned for dinner, sitting upright at the dining table. Seeing me descend the stairs, ready to eat, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips. It seemed I was still obedient. Perhaps it was due to the days without food or water, but my face was pale. My once form-fitting loungewear now hung loosely on my frame, making me appear even more fragile and bony. Looking at Julian’s still handsome face, my heart ached. I walked over, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said calmly, without anger, as soon as I was seated. “What did you say?” Julian was visibly startled; he hadn’t expected me to say that. “Divorce,” I repeated, my face expressionless. He tugged at his tie with long fingers, clearly irritated. “Chloe Davis, have you lost your damn mind?” “You…” I closed my eyes in pain, as if recalling something terribly hurtful, and whispered, “You could lay hands on your own flesh and blood. Why keep me by your side?” “My own flesh and blood?” Julian sneered, lifting his gaze to my face. “Even now, you’re still trying to deny it? If the woman in those photos isn’t you, then who is it? Go on, explain it to me. Do you have a long-lost sister?” “…” I pressed my lips together, unable to utter a single word in my defense. I had been the Davis family’s only darling daughter since childhood; how could I have a sister, let alone an identical twin? Yet, I swore I had never done anything like that with another man… Unbeknownst to me, Julian had risen and walked behind me. He suddenly lifted me from the chair. “What are you doing?” I demanded, shaking myself awake. The next moment, his handsome face filled my vision, then he leaned down and claimed my lips. “Mmmph…” I desperately pounded on his chest, trying to push him away, but the man held my hands behind my back with one hand and tightly embraced my waist with the other, pressing me close against him. He had only intended to punish me slightly, to assert his undeniable dominance. But the moment he drew near and inhaled my unique fragrance, he was lost in it. The feeling of him intimately exploring my mouth made me feel even more humiliated, and my eyes welled up with fresh tears. *Plip!* A single hot tear dropped onto Julian’s chest, searing through his thin shirt. He looked down to see me, the woman in his arms, pouting and crying, and he instantly sobered. He roughly pushed me away, then turned and said, “Listen to me, woman. Even if we divorce, it’ll only happen when I’m tired of you. Otherwise, you’ll never leave me in this lifetime!” I staggered where he pushed me, his words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “Hello? Be at the Thorne mansion in half an hour. Now.” Julian said coldly into his phone, then turned and left the dining room. “Damn it!” Julian cursed under his breath as he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. The president of the mighty Thorne Corporation, flustered and agitated over a woman? It must be because he hadn’t touched a woman in too long, so he called for Serena Price, a prominent socialite from Olympus City’s elite circles. There had been countless women who pursued him, but his reputation as a doting husband was also well-known throughout Olympus City, breaking many young women’s hearts. But now, this woman, whom he had once held so dear, dared to betray him. He would make sure she understood the consequences of betrayal! He had told himself more than once that he absolutely couldn’t fall for such a woman again! Yet, he had to admit, for a fleeting moment just now, he had truly lost himself. A short while later, the doorbell rang urgently, and Mrs. Jenkins quickly went to open it. “Julian, did you miss me?” A syrupy sweet voice cooed, and a woman in a tight black dress sashayed in, her voluptuous figure swaying provocatively, the body-con design accentuating her curves. It was Serena Price, the mayor’s daughter. Her chestnut-brown waves cascaded over her shoulders, and the strapless design exposed her alluring collarbones. Her bright, expressive eyes fixed on Julian, who was seated on the sofa, from the moment she entered. She walked directly towards the man she had admired for so long, wrapped her arms around his neck, and settled onto his lap, leaning in to offer her vivid red lips. Julian frowned, his handsome brows furrowing in displeasure, and subtly shifted, expertly dodging her advance. The woman in his lap froze, looking at his action. Hadn’t he called her here himself? For some reason, he felt no interest in the woman eagerly offering herself to him. In fact, he felt a slight resistance. But then, his eyes caught a glimpse of my figure standing in the dining room doorway, looking on, and a harsh glint flashed in his eyes. He took control, gripping the back of the woman’s neck and pressing his lips to hers. Tears streamed down my face. The scene in the living room assaulted my eyes and nerves. I turned my head, wanting to avert my gaze from this revolting live-action show, yet my legs felt like lead, stuck to the spot. “Oh, I want you~” Serena cooed, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. My red, swollen eyes followed the sound. Feeling my gaze, Julian looked at the stunning woman beneath him, a husky laugh escaping his throat as he playfully chided, “You little tease~” Julian stood up, still holding the woman in his arms, and swept her into his arms, heading towards the bedroom on the second floor. As he passed the dining room doorway, he didn’t even glance at me, completely ignoring my living presence. Only the woman in his arms looked at me standing there, every expression on her face oozing with blatant provocation and triumph. She tightened her arms around Julian, proudly asserting her claim. Watching their retreating figures, my heart turned to dust. If everything before had been a misunderstanding, perhaps there might have been some faint hope of forgiveness. But now, he was intimately involved with another woman right in front of me! I felt as though my heart was being stabbed by dozens of knives, suffocating me. All the love between us, at that moment, was extinguished and vanished completely. I stared at the closed bedroom door upstairs, wiped the tears from my face, and returned to my own room. Back in the empty bedroom, although the soundproofing was excellent and I couldn’t hear a single sound from next door, my mind kept replaying the horrifying image of my husband being intimate with another woman on the bed. A splitting headache pulsed through me, and I slid down the wall, sinking to the floor. I frantically pounded my head, trying to force these sickening thoughts away, but the more I tried to escape, the clearer the images became. “Oh no! The young madam has tried to kill herself!” With Mrs. Jenkins’ scream, the entire Thorne mansion erupted in chaos. Julian rushed out of the adjacent room. When he saw me lying in a pool of blood, he felt his vision darken, utterly lost and bewildered. His crimson eyes blazed with a murderous rage, his heart pounding erratically. He had never been so rattled; he wouldn’t even blink when signing billion-dollar deals for the corporation, but now, seeing this scene, he was truly panicked. He was terrified of losing me like this. On the floor beside me lay a blood-stained fruit knife. There was a long, deep gash on my slender wrist, and bright, startling blood continued to gush out… “Ah!” Serena, who had arrived shortly after, shrieked, her face turning ashen as she stumbled back a few steps. Just then, the wail of an ambulance sounded from outside the villa. Julian’s furious eyes shot a glare at Serena. Without a word, he scooped me up from the pool of blood and stormed out the door. *Chloe Davis, you can’t die. You’re not allowed to die without my permission! You foolish woman, do you think this is how you’ll get away? If you dare to die like this, I’ll haunt you even as a ghost!* The ambulance quickly arrived at the hospital. I was lifted from the stretcher by the accompanying doctors and nurses and rushed into the hospital. Julian clung tightly to the railing of the stretcher, jogging alongside as we moved towards the operating room. “Patient name: Chloe Davis, female, attempted suicide by wrist laceration, severe blood loss. Emergency hemostasis was performed in the ambulance…” The accompanying nurse calmly and swiftly reported my condition to the emergency doctor walking towards them. “Understood. Notify the blood bank to prepare for transfusion.” Julian’s heart, like the slowly closing operating room doors, rose higher and higher, lodged in his throat. He couldn’t imagine what would have happened if Mrs. Jenkins hadn’t gone to my bedroom to bring me food, worried that I hadn’t eaten dinner, and found me… If she had waited until the next day, all that would have awaited him was a cold corpse. *Chloe Davis, how could you be so cruel!* Soon after, my adoptive parents, Mr. and Mrs. Davis, also arrived at the hospital, waiting anxiously outside the operating room. *Bang!* The operating room doors burst open, and a disoriented young nurse stumbled out. A crowd of people immediately surged forward. “The patient has a rare RH-negative blood type. Our hospital’s blood bank is currently low on this blood. Are there any relatives here? We need a family member to donate blood,” the young nurse anxiously looked up at the surging crowd. But they only looked at each other, their faces filled with complex expressions. “How can Chloe have RH-negative blood? No one in our family has this blood type…” Mr. Davis turned to my adoptive mother, Mrs. Thompson, his face bearing an unquestionable authority. “Why are you looking at me? How would I know?” Mrs. Thompson’s face was tinged with sharp indignation. The atmosphere instantly turned hostile. A dark secret of the elite was about to spill. — Cut-off Point — “Sir, Madam, let me donate blood for Chloe. I am RH-negative,” Maria Miller, a housekeeper, suddenly spoke from behind. Everyone turned to look. A woman in her forties, her expression heavy, slowly walked forward. “You?” Mrs. Thompson’s face showed a hint of intriguing suspicion. Mr. Davis, however, seemed to suddenly remember something, his eyes widening as he looked at Maria, but then he abruptly shook his head, finally letting out a deep sigh. “Go and donate blood first. Saving a life is urgent.” His voice turned old and hollow, filled with a palpable sense of weariness that struck anyone who heard it. The nurse quickly led Maria into the operating room. But Mrs. Thompson suddenly acted as if she’d gone mad, grabbing Mr. Davis and shouting, “What’s going on? Why does she have the same blood type as Chloe! Mr. Davis, you better explain this to me!” “I don’t know either, I just asked her to go and donate blood for Chloe first,” Mr. Davis replied dismissively, his thoughts drifting back to that stormy night over twenty years ago… It was a night of pouring rain and fierce winds. The Davis Corporation was still on the rise back then, and Mr. Davis, having just lost a multi-million-dollar deal, was utterly devastated. He returned to the Davis mansion utterly drunk. He swayed at the entrance, struggling for a long time to take off his shoes. “Sir, you’re back.” Maria Miller, then just a girl in her early twenties, had not yet been called Mrs. Miller. “Maria, it’s you. Where’s Mrs. Davis?” Mr. Davis squinted his drunken eyes, trying to steady himself as he spoke to her. Maria saw him struggling with his shoes and quickly knelt down to help him take them off. “Sir, why did you drink so much? Mrs. Davis had an afternoon tea appointment; she hasn’t returned yet.” “Oh,” Mr. Davis secretly let out a sigh of relief. Maria looked at Mr. Davis’s dejected state, her heart aching for him. He always treated the staff so well, and he was so charming and dashing. Over time, she couldn’t help but develop some feelings for him. Mrs. Thompson’s family held immense power, openly and subtly assisting his career for years. If she found out he’d messed up such a huge deal, he couldn’t imagine how much she would scold him. But after so many years of marriage, they still had no children, and the thought alone gave Mr. Davis a splitting headache. Yet, he dared not express his frustration. The alcohol’s effects wore off considerably. Mr. Davis, with a droopy head, walked forlornly upstairs and went directly into his bedroom. *Knock, knock, knock…* A knock sounded at the door. “Sir, I’ve warmed you a hangover tea,” Maria called from outside the door. But there was no sound from the room for a long time. Maria knocked again hesitantly, then, worried, pushed the door open and entered. As soon as the door opened, a pungent smell of alcohol assailed her. Maria frowned, waved her hand in front of her face a couple of times, and walked into the room. “So thirsty, thirsty…” Mr. Davis, completely passed out from drinking, lay sprawled on the bed, mumbling incoherently. Maria quickly walked over and placed the hangover tea on the bedside table. “Sir, wake up, wake up.” Maria knelt by the bed, gently shaking the drunken Mr. Davis. “Get up and drink some hangover tea.” Mr. Davis groggily half-opened his eyes and, with Maria’s help, sat up. Perhaps truly thirsty, he took the hangover tea and drank it all in one gulp. Maria had just set the empty teacup aside when she turned around to find Mr. Davis had already fallen back asleep, his head lolling to the side. She smiled helplessly, stood up, and slowly helped him lie down, even tucking the blanket around him thoughtfully. Just as she picked up the teacup and turned to leave, a sudden dizzy spell hit her. A strong hand pulled her onto the bed. The teacup clattered to the floor with a *thump* at the same moment Mr. Davis’s kiss descended upon her… *Bang!* The operating room doors slowly opened, interrupting Mr. Davis’s thoughts. I was wheeled out on a hospital bed, and Maria also emerged, supported by a nurse. At this moment, my adoptive mother, Mrs. Thompson, didn’t immediately rush to embrace me, her eyes filled more with scrutiny. She looked at my face, then at Maria, who had just emerged, and her suspicions solidified. “The patient is out of danger. She should wake up after some rest, but will need to stay for observation for two days,” the doctor said, taking off his mask and advising the family. The group followed my bed to a VIP room. Julian had to leave due to other engagements, and this was clearly a Davis family matter, so even as a son-in-law, it was inappropriate for him to stay. Mrs. Thompson was the first to sit in the chair by my bed, while Mr. Davis and Maria stood by. Watching the doctors and nurses busy themselves attending to me, who had just been transferred to the room, I felt an indescribable mix of emotions. It had taken so many years of marriage to have a daughter, so I had been given boundless love and care since childhood. But now, after more than twenty years, and with me already married, they discovered… After the doctors and nurses had left, only Mr. and Mrs. Davis, and Maria remained in the large hospital room, apart from me, who lay unconscious on the bed. “Start talking. What exactly happened?” Mrs. Thompson’s eyes narrowed, making Maria shiver. “Darling, listen to me…” After a long silence, Mr. Davis slowly began. “You shut up! I want to hear what *she* has to say!” Mrs. Thompson exclaimed, pointing at Maria. The atmosphere instantly became tense. She and Mr. Davis stood by the bedside, looking at me lying there, feeling utterly heartbroken. A secret kept for over twenty years, it seemed, could no longer be hidden. “Madam, it’s all my fault. That year, I took advantage of Sir when he was drunk…” *Slap!* Mrs. Thompson suddenly stood up and delivered a stinging slap across Maria’s face. “Darling, what are you doing?” Mr. Davis quickly stepped forward, shielding Maria behind him. “What am I doing? Mr. Davis, this is all your doing! How dare you even ask me?” Mrs. Thompson reached past Mr. Davis and grabbed Maria’s arm. “So, Chloe is your daughter?” “Yes… yes, she is,” Maria replied, clutching her red and swollen face. “Then where is my daughter? Where is my daughter now?!” Mrs. Thompson’s eyes bulged with fury, as if spitting fire. She unconsciously tightened her grip on Maria’s arm, as if she wanted to crush her bones. “She… she…” Maria stammered evasively. “What happened to her?!” Mrs. Thompson demanded urgently, her voice carrying an irresistible authority. “Actually… Victoria is… your daughter…” Mrs. Thompson first froze, then suddenly burst into two harsh laughs before delivering another slap. “Oh, wonderful! My daughter suffered for so many years because of you, and you actually made me raise *your* daughter for over twenty years?” “Darling, you…” Mr. Davis started to speak, but meeting Mrs. Thompson’s furious gaze, he swallowed his words and said no more. “You shut up!” Mrs. Thompson turned and swung her fists at Mr. Davis. “Did the two of you plan this? Have you known about this all along? Have you?!” Mr. Davis gripped Mrs. Thompson’s wildly flailing hands, his brows furrowed in pain, and said, “What are you talking about? How would I know?” “How would you know? How could you *not* know where Chloe came from! My poor child suffered for over twenty years with this lowly woman!” Mrs. Thompson cried hysterically, her eyes red as she accused Mr. Davis. After learning such a shocking secret, any normal person would struggle to accept it, especially Mrs. Thompson, who was usually proud and arrogant. At that moment, she was utterly distraught. “Dad? Mom?” I was awakened by the arguments in the room. I slowly opened my tired eyes, propped myself up on one arm, and with difficulty, sat up in bed. Mr. Davis strode over, picked up a pillow, placed it behind me, and helped me sit up properly. “Mr. Davis, what are you doing?” Mrs. Thompson stepped forward, knocking his hand away from me and pulling him aside. “Mom?” I looked at my adoptive mother, confused. “Don’t call me Mom, I’m not your Mom!” Mrs. Thompson turned her face away, tears streaming down. After all, I was the daughter she had raised for over twenty years, cherished in her hands. Even though she now knew I wasn’t her biological child, twenty years of affection couldn’t be erased in an instant. “This… Mom, what’s wrong?” Seeing Mrs. Thompson’s distress and Mr. Davis’s hesitant expression, I was so anxious I almost leaped from the bed. “I told you, don’t call me Mom. *She’s* your mother!” Mrs. Thompson pointed at Maria. It was then that I saw Maria standing near the hospital room door, her slender frame huddled, her head bowed. Though I couldn’t clearly see her expression, I could vaguely see her trembling. My eyes widened in horror. I threw back the covers and got out of bed, but perhaps due to severe blood loss, I felt dizzy and fell to my knees on the floor. “Mom, what are you saying? How could she be…?” My eyes instantly blurred with tears. Mrs. Thompson looked at me, fallen to the floor, with a worried glance, instinctively reaching out to help, but immediately dismissed the thought and withdrew her outstretched hands. Maria heard the *thump* and looked up, her heart twisting like a knife to see her biological daughter kneeling on the cold floor. Her feet, as if by some ghostly force, moved a few steps forward, but Mrs. Thompson’s cold stare stopped her dead in her tracks. Only Mr. Davis knelt down, trying to help me up from the floor, but I tightly gripped his hand. “Dad, did you hear what Mom just said? She’s just kidding with me, right?” Looking at my hopeful eyes, even though the aging father’s heart was filled with boundless reluctance, he could only lower his head helplessly. “Dad, say something! What is going on? You’re all just playing a trick on me, right?” The hospital room fell silent. No one was willing to shatter my last hope. Even though Mrs. Thompson detested Maria, she opened her mouth but couldn’t bring herself to say anything that would hurt me further. “Let me tell you.” With a *bang*, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open from outside. Almost simultaneously, everyone looked up towards the door. Victoria Thompson elegantly entered, walking to my front and kneeling down. Her slender hand grazed my haggard cheek, a hint of indescribable amusement on her face. Mrs. Thompson looked at Victoria walking in, her heart filled with joy, tears streaming down her face. This was her daughter, her *biological* daughter! “Victoria, why are you here?” Maria’s voice, thick with tears, sounded from behind. “Why am I here? How could I miss this wonderful show?” A flicker of hatred crossed Victoria’s eyes, suddenly making her look terrifying. She paused, staring intently at me. “What an arrogant young madam, thinking you’re still the cherished heiress of the Davis family?” My eyes were bloodshot, staring unblinkingly at Victoria. “What do you know? Tell me.” Apparently not expecting my calm, Victoria paused, then stood up and took a step back. She looked at me, still on the floor, and suddenly clapped her hands. “Indeed, you’ve been a fake heiress for over twenty years. You’ve certainly learned how to stay composed.” “What did you say?!” The words “fake heiress” pierced my ears like daggers. I gasped, my face instantly turning pale. “I said you’re fake. Did you hear me clearly?” Victoria declared, looking down at me, enunciating each word. These words also deeply wounded everyone present. I violently shook off Mr. Davis’s hand and stumbled to my feet. Meeting Victoria’s gaze, “You’re lying!” I screamed, using every ounce of my strength, swaying precariously. “I’m lying?” Victoria’s eyes were bloodshot, her expression suddenly becoming fierce and vicious. “Do you really think you’re a Davis heiress? You’re nothing but a bastard born to *that woman*!” I felt as if my soul had been ripped out; my whole body suddenly wilted and I staggered backward. But Victoria wouldn’t give up. She stepped forward, grasping my shoulder. “The real Davis heiress is me! You, Chloe Davis, stole the life that rightfully belonged to me!” “No, this isn’t true, this isn’t true!” Tears streamed down my face. I stood there lost, mumbling to myself. “Chloe!” Maria could no longer hold back. She stepped forward and grabbed my arm. “Don’t touch me!” I recoiled as if I had been contaminated by something unclean, distancing myself immediately, my eyes wary as I looked at this woman who was both familiar and a stranger. “What, Chloe Davis, you won’t even acknowledge your own mother?” Victoria’s mocking voice echoed in the room. I staggered to Mrs. Thompson, cautiously asking, “Mom, tell me, they’re not telling the truth, are they?” Mrs. Thompson looked up at my tear-streaked face, her heart aching. After all, I was the child she had raised for twenty years; how could she have no feelings for me? “Mom, tell me!” I asked again, my voice hoarse. “What she said… is… all true,” Mrs. Thompson slowly admitted. Upon receiving the answer, I suddenly fell back onto the floor. The waves of pain from my body had long numbed my nerves, because the pain in my heart at that moment was far more unbearable. I sat on the ground in despair, my eyes vacant, tears streaming down relentlessly. “It’s all my fault, all my fault! If it weren’t for my selfish moment…” Maria stood there, consumed by self-reproach. She looked at me sitting on the floor, then at Victoria standing before her, her heart feeling as if dozens of knives were slowly cutting into it.

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“Asher, please, just let me go.” Chloe was pinned against the dining table, biting her lower lip to evade the man’s kisses. She had just found out she was pregnant today. The doctor said her constitution was very fragile, and it was a miracle she’d conceived at all, so she needed to be extra careful in her daily life. Any slight jolt, bump, or fall could easily lead to a miscarriage, and if that happened, she’d never be able to be a mother. Hearing her plea, Asher scoffed, his eyes bloodshot and blazing. He reached out, clamping her jaw and forcing her to look him in the eye. “Let you go? Chloe, weren’t you always scheming to seduce me? Weren’t you always hoping to get pregnant with my child to solidify your claim as my wife? Why the sudden act now? Or is this your new trick to play hard-to-get?” “I didn’t!” Chloe shook her head, tears streaming uncontrollably from her eyes. She had never wanted Asher this way. A child should be a symbol of love, not a tool. “You didn’t? You think I’d believe that?” Asher sneered, a chilling coldness in his eyes and brows. He stared into her tear-filled eyes, mocking, “If it weren’t for this face of yours, identical to Izzy’s, do you really think I’d ever touch you?” “Asher, I’ve told you countless times! I never pushed Izzy down the stairs; she jumped on her own!” “She jumped on her own? Chloe, that was from the fourth floor! Izzy and I were about to get married. Why would she jump? You must have forced her, you’re the one who put her in a coma all this time!” Chloe desperately shook her head in denial, but in Asher’s drunken eyes, she was simply making excuses. His gaze grew even colder, thick with disgust. “Do you know why I’ve kept you around and haven’t sent you to jail?” Chloe’s breath hitched, the last hint of color draining from her face. She knew. Of course, she knew. Izzy had a heart condition. Asher had said it more than once: Izzy needed a heart, and as Izzy’s biological sister, Chloe was a 100% match. “Soon, Izzy will be able to have her heart transplant surgery.” Asher said it softly, but his tender tone was like a cruel saw, tearing at her heart with every agonizing word, leaving her bleeding and broken inside. Asher had never once considered that without her heart, she’d die. “Asher, haven’t you ever thought about believing me, just once?” Asher sneered, “Hah, what about you is worth *any* trust?!” Chloe’s entire body stiffened and grew cold. He would never believe her, of course. Faced with Asher’s misunderstanding, she couldn’t explain anymore. She could only beg. Whatever happened, her only wish now was to protect this baby. “Asher, please, I’m begging you, let me go! I don’t feel well today, I really don’t feel well.” “Sick?” Asher scoffed coldly, a flicker of sarcasm in his eyes. “Chloe, if you were to die from illness, I wouldn’t even bother to bury you.” Asher roughly tore open Chloe’s clothes. “From now on, shut your mouth. I don’t want to hear your voice!” Her voice was different from Izzy’s. Izzy’s voice was like a sweet songbird, while Chloe’s vocal cords had become hoarse and unpleasant due to a severe cold in the past. Because of this, Asher always demanded she remain silent during their encounters. Chloe painfully closed her eyes. Just then, the dining room door suddenly burst open. Isabelle stared incredulously at the two in the room, clutching her chest. “You…!” “Izzy! You, you’re awake?” Asher panicked, roughly pushing Chloe away and rushing towards Isabelle. The push sent Chloe sprawling, her lower abdomen slamming hard against the table’s edge. A sharp, violent pain instantly ripped through her. Her eyes widened, and she instinctively clutched her stomach, terrified something had happened to the baby inside her. She wanted to call out to Asher, but he was already gone, cradling her twin sister, Isabelle. Chloe struggled to her feet, numbly picking up the torn pieces of her clothes and wrapping them around herself. Enduring the dull ache in her lower abdomen, she limped back to the small, neglected room he’d assigned her. Asher said a vicious woman like her only deserved to live in the staff annex. Back in the room, she immediately pulled out the prenatal medication hidden under her pillow and took two pills. After a while, the pain in her stomach gradually subsided. Chloe gently stroked her belly, thinking, *This child, I absolutely must protect this child.* At the hospital. Isabelle, her face deathly pale, wept silently. “Asher, how could you be with Chloe? Don’t you know, she’s the one who forced me to jump, so I couldn’t marry you.” “Izzy, you’ve misunderstood. I’ve never loved Chloe; you’ve always been the only one I love.” Asher gently stroked Isabelle’s head, his voice tender. “Ever since you saved me when I was seven, you’ve been the only one in my heart.” Isabelle lowered her head, a flash of coldness and disgust in her eyes hidden beneath her dark lashes, but on the surface, she maintained her fragile act. “But… if you don’t love Chloe, why would you do such a thing?” Isabelle’s tears streamed down her face. “I’m in so much pain. I wish I hadn’t woken up. Just thinking about the person who harmed me being with the person I love… I’m breaking down, especially since that person is my own sister!” Tears slid down Isabelle’s beautiful face, and Asher immediately became anxious. “It… it was Chloe who seduced me. I won’t be with Chloe anymore. She hurt you so badly; how do you want to get back at her?” Isabelle, her eyes red, looked at Asher. “Asher, I don’t want to see her face.” Asher clenched his fist, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I understand. Don’t overthink it. I love you, I don’t love Chloe at all. Your priority is to get well, understand?” Isabelle lay obediently in Asher’s arms, her eyes gleaming with undisguised triumph. After spending several hours with Isabelle at the hospital, coaxing her to sleep, Asher left with a grim expression. He returned to the villa, found the small, neglected room Chloe lived in, and violently kicked the door open. The loud “bang” startled Chloe awake from her uneasy dreams. The moment she saw Asher, Chloe instantly became wary. “You, why are you here?” Shouldn’t he be at the hospital with Isabelle, who had just woken up? Asher stood by the bed, looking down at Chloe. Then he pulled a small dagger from his pocket and tossed it onto the nearby table. The blade hit the tabletop with a sharp clang. Asher’s gaze was calm. “Izzy said she doesn’t like your face. You should know what to do.” Chloe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You want me to ruin my own face?” “Chloe, blame it on that face of yours!” Asher took a step forward, his large hand clamping down hard on Chloe’s jaw. “And, later, you’re going to kneel before Izzy and apologize, telling her you seduced me!” “Asher, have you lost your mind!” “I haven’t. If you don’t apologize, I recall you have a grandfather who raised you from childhood, right? I’ll make him slash his own face and kneel to apologize to Izzy.” Chloe’s heart was ripped apart, her emotions crashing down in an instant. She looked painfully at the man before her, his face tight, his gaze cold and unfamiliar. She screamed hysterically, “Asher, if you dare touch my grandpa, I’ll fight you to the death!” Asher watched her, his expression indifferent. “You can try.” Chloe took a deep breath. She knew she couldn’t fight Asher. Her gaze turned icy as she stared at him. “Asher, don’t touch my grandpa. I’ll do as you say!” Chloe closed her eyes in despair, taking a deep, shuddering breath. *It’s fine. It’s just a face. What’s there to be afraid of? Being disfigured is better than death.* With a surge of strength, she pressed the blade, and a gush of blood erupted from her right cheek. It hurt so much, but even that agonizing pain couldn’t compare to the coldness in her heart. Blood dripped onto Chloe’s clothes, staining them. Her beautiful, delicate face now bore a gruesome, disfiguring wound. Asher looked at the jagged cut on Chloe’s face, and at the desperate look she’d given him moments ago. For some reason, a strange, tight grip squeezed his heart. Chloe, still holding the bloodied dagger, tried to slash her left cheek, but Asher grabbed her wrist. “That’s enough. Now, go apologize to Izzy.” … In the chilling silence of the hospital room, only the crisp sound of slaps could be heard. Chloe had no idea how many times she had slapped herself. She just numbly raised her hand and brought it down again, repeating the motion. With each slap, she muttered, “I’m sorry, I seduced Asher. I’m sorry, I seduced him.” She didn’t dare stop; her grandpa’s life depended on it! Before her eyes was the sight of Asher and Isabelle nestled together, Asher constantly comforting Isabelle, telling her that once she recovered and had her heart transplant, he would marry her. Chloe listened to Asher’s tender tone that seeped into her very bones, feeling a pain in her heart as if it were laced with poison. Suddenly, her arm went limp. She couldn’t lift it anymore; it dropped weakly to her side. Asher watched Chloe’s bloodied face, his eyes cold, his emotions completely unmoved. “Why did you stop? Izzy hasn’t forgiven you for seducing me yet.” “Asher, I think my sister knows she was wrong. Let’s not push her anymore. Sister, you should go back and rest well.” Isabelle said, seemingly out of mercy, but to Asher, it sounded like Chloe was being ungrateful. He walked up to Chloe and raised his hand, fiercely slapping her. The slap landed squarely on her injured wound, and Chloe let out a piercing scream of pain. The sound was utterly desolate, causing her to instantly lose consciousness. “Chloe, don’t you dare pretend to be dead.” He instinctively thought Chloe was faking it. It was just a slap; how could she pass out? But the only response was a deathly silence. Asher finally realized something was wrong. He quickly turned Chloe over and cursed under his breath when he saw the raw, open wound on her face. “Damn it!” Asher scooped her up and rushed to the emergency room. Half an hour later, the doctor emerged. He pulled down his mask and spoke. “Mr. Asher, Ms. Chloe fainted from excessive blood loss. The wound on her face has been treated, but it will likely leave a scar. There’s also something else: Ms. Chloe is pregnant.” The doctor’s words made Asher’s hand, holding a cigarette, tremble. “What did you say? She’s pregnant?” The doctor looked confused. “Yes, she’s about a month along.” “I understand.” Asher pursed his lips, his deep-set eyes instantly growing dark and profound. Isabelle sat in her hospital room, her mind filled with the words the bribed nurse had whispered to her earlier. She hadn’t expected Chloe to be pregnant! *That bitch, how could she carry Asher’s child!* Isabelle gritted her teeth in furious resentment. Then, a spark ignited in her mind, and an idea formed. Asher sat by Chloe’s bedside, gazing at her sleeping face. He didn’t know why, but he found himself absurdly conflating the image of the little girl who saved him with Chloe’s face. *Impossible!* It was Izzy who saved him, not Chloe. He must just be sleep-deprived lately, which was why he was having such a ridiculous intuition. Just then, Chloe vaguely stirred from her unconsciousness. “Where am I?” Chloe’s voice pulled Asher abruptly from his thoughts. Remembering that Chloe was a month pregnant, Asher’s eyes turned utterly cold. “Chloe, I can’t believe you secretly got pregnant?” “I…” Chloe was still groggy, her mind not yet clear from confusion. Reflexively, she grabbed Asher’s hand, wanting to explain. But Asher didn’t give her the chance, immediately dialing his assistant. “Arrange an abortion, now!” “Asher, how can you be so cruel? You’re going to kill your own child! I’m begging you, please, just let him live!” Chloe pleaded, her eyes red. “He won’t threaten Izzy. If you just let me give birth to him, I’ll give my heart to Izzy right away. I’m begging you!” Asher gripped Chloe’s chin, then harshly kicked her in the stomach. A sharp, violent cramp immediately shot through Chloe’s abdomen. She looked at Asher in disbelief, his eyes filled with icy disdain. “Chloe, don’t think for a second I don’t know what you’re thinking. Do you believe by secretly having this child you can keep me?” “I’m telling you, that’s never going to happen!” Hearing his words, Chloe laughed, tears instantly streaming from her eyes. She should have known this would be the outcome, shouldn’t she? Chloe thought, *It was all her fault. She made a terrible mistake loving him, and now she couldn’t even protect her own baby.* Asher stood nearby, and when he saw the utter despair in her eyes, his breath hitched. His heart felt as if something had just pierced it. A deathly silence spread through the hospital room… Just then, the door to the room suddenly burst open. The nurse attending to Isabelle rushed in, panicked. “Mr. Asher, Ms. Isabelle is not doing well! The doctor says Ms. Isabelle needs immediate heart surgery!” “What did you say?” “The doctor said Ms. Isabelle’s condition was stable and her heart could wait, but she was agitated two days ago, and her emotions are unstable, so the surgery must happen immediately.” Asher’s eyes deepened upon hearing this. “Alright, I understand.” As soon as the nurse left, Chloe nervously clutched the bedsheets. Her eyes, filled with dread, stared at Asher, her heart pounding frantically. Meeting Asher’s gaze, Chloe’s lips trembled as she asked, “Asher, what are you going to do?” “Izzy’s heart isn’t well. You should know what needs to happen next.” Asher stared at her, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “You want me to give her my heart? Right now?” Chloe looked at Asher in disbelief, her right hand tightly gripping the fabric over her lower abdomen. She was still carrying his child; how could he be so heartless? Asher looked up at her. “Why not now? Whether the child is aborted or not, the final outcome is the same. Both of you have to die! Isn’t that right?” Chloe felt as if something inside her had shattered. *Yes, long ago, when she had suffered so much she wanted to die but couldn’t, she had already been told that Asher wouldn’t let her die.* Because she was still useful: Izzy needed her heart! She had known the outcome for so long, so why, now that this moment had truly arrived, did her heart ache so much? “Asher, no, I won’t! I’m still pregnant; I can’t have heart surgery, I can’t!” Chloe rose from the bed, her mind in a daze. She only knew to beg Asher not to do this, completely forgetting that this man had just said he would never let her go. Asher gave the order mercilessly. “Guards, take Chloe to the operating room. Give Izzy her heart.” After giving the command, he immediately left. As Asher walked out, a group of bodyguards and nurses swarmed through the door, rushing to Chloe’s bedside and hauling her up. “No! Let go of me! How dare you? I’m still alive, I don’t want to donate my heart! This is illegal!” Chloe struggled, twisting her body, trying to break free from the nurses’ grip. “Ms. Chloe, Mr. Asher has already spoken with his lawyer. This heart surgery is a voluntary donation of the organ source. It’s not illegal.” The nurse explained, a hint of pity in her eyes as she looked at Chloe. Chloe heard this and gave up struggling, a self-mocking laugh escaping her lips. Their words meant that no matter how much she resisted, the outcome wouldn’t change! But even if she died, she would watch Izzy and Asher, remember their faces, and return as a vengeful spirit to haunt them and claim their lives! “You don’t need to hold me. I’ll go myself.” Chloe stopped struggling. She lowered her head and placed her hand on her abdomen. *Baby, I’m sorry. Mom couldn’t protect you. In our next life, even if I have to work like an ox or a horse, I’ll repay what I owe you!* Raising her head, Chloe took a step, then another, walking towards the operating room. In the operating room, Chloe, dressed in a sterile gown, lay desperately on the operating table, her gaze fixed with hatred on Izzy on the adjacent table. Looking at that face, identical to her own, Chloe wanted to tear her apart! “Surgery begins.” As the doctor announced, Chloe felt a sharp, icy prick on the skin of her arm. She had endured so many injections to protect her baby, but none had hurt like this one. As the injection finished, the tubes on Izzy’s operating table were pulled out. Immediately, Izzy rose and walked over to Chloe’s side. “You, how can you be…?” Chloe’s eyes widened as she stared at Isabelle, who showed no signs of weakness, a look of utter astonishment in her eyes. Isabelle smiled, her arms crossed. “What? Is my sister surprised to see me like this?” Watching her smile, Chloe suddenly realized. She turned to look at the doctors nearby, and sure enough, they had all put away their surgical tools, standing impassively as if they hadn’t seen anything happening. Chloe’s cold sweat immediately broke out. “What did you inject me with?” “What do you think?” Isabelle’s lips curved into a smirk. She reached out and pressed hard on the wound on Chloe’s face. A searing pain shot through Chloe’s face, and the blood, which had just stopped, began to flow again. “What a shame, such a beautiful face, ruined just like that.” Isabelle said with a feigned sigh, her face devoid of any actual pity! Chloe was about to say something when a sudden, sharp pain ripped through her lower abdomen. Isabelle had picked up a glass bottle and pressed it down hard on her stomach. Chloe’s eyes widened, her eyeballs bulging, blood vessels crawling through them. *Her baby, her baby!* A warm gush flowed down her thighs, and the smell of blood began to fill the operating room. “Baby… my baby…” The agonizing, heart-wrenching pain drowned out Chloe’s desperate cries. The torment in her abdomen was so suffocating she wished she could die instantly. Her baby, just like that, was gone! That was her precious baby, her very soul! “Isabelle, why don’t you just kill me? Why?!” Chloe struggled frantically, her reason completely lost, glaring fixedly at Isabelle. Isabelle, however, just laughed. “Kill you? That would be too easy, Chloe. How does it feel to watch your baby slip away? Does it feel good?” “What’s the point of all this? You’ve gained so much, why won’t you just leave me alone?” She didn’t understand. They were supposed to be the closest of kin, yet Isabelle had hated her so much since childhood. What had she ever done to offend her? “Leave you alone?” Isabelle laughed as if she’d heard the funniest joke. “Chloe, do you have any idea how much I hate you!” “We both learned to dance, but you were so talented while I could never learn. I hated you for it!” “And Mom and Dad, too. Growing up, no matter what, they always favored you. And me? I was always ignored!” “And Asher, why was it you who saved him, and not me?!” “What did you say?” Chloe didn’t understand the meaning of her last sentence. Seeing Chloe’s bewildered expression, Isabelle’s smile grew even colder. “Do you know why Asher is so utterly devoted to me? Because I’ve always told him that I was the one who saved him from the fire when he was a child. But actually, that day, I originally planned to set you on fire, but unfortunately…” “!!!” So the little boy she saved as a child was Asher. Chloe stared blankly at the ceiling. Why was fate playing such a cruel joke on her? Isabelle looked at the blood continuously gushing onto the operating table, a soothing sense of pleasure surging through her heart. But this wasn’t over yet. A glint flashed in Isabelle’s eyes, and then she suddenly screamed. “Ah—” Asher heard Isabelle’s scream and immediately pushed open the operating room door. The moment he entered, the smell of blood hit him. The scene before his eyes froze him in place. Chloe lay slumped on the operating table, wearing a white gown, her body covered in bright red blood. Even her dangling hair was dripping with it. Asher’s brows furrowed in a sharp frown, but before he could dwell on it, his thoughts were interrupted by Isabelle’s cries. **截断点** “Asher, what do we do? Is my sister having a baby? Asher, quickly call the obstetrician!” Isabelle clutched the edge of the bed, weak and frail, her face utterly haggard. Asher immediately rushed over, scooping Isabelle into his arms. “Izzy, your heart isn’t well; how can you get out of bed?” “I saw my sister bleeding heavily, I’m scared…” Isabelle seemed to be at a loss. “Asher, forget about me for now, quickly call a doctor to save my sister! Even if she’s not good to me, I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.” Asher immediately made a call. However, the next second, Chloe suddenly sprang up, then violently lunged at Asher, pulling Isabelle from his arms. Isabelle was caught off guard. She never expected Chloe to have so much strength while bleeding heavily, so she fell unprotected to the floor, hitting her head. Stars instantly exploded in her vision. She wanted to scream, but the searing pain that followed made it impossible. Chloe’s eyes were filled with overwhelming hatred. She straddled Isabelle, pouring all her strength into every brutal punch, hitting Isabelle’s chest again and again. She wanted Isabelle to pay for her baby’s life; she wanted Isabelle to die in agony! Chloe’s vision was consumed by darkness, for her world had already been plunged into blackness. Asher had been stunned for a moment by Chloe’s sudden actions. By the time he reacted, he saw Isabelle on the verge of unconsciousness from Chloe’s blows. He immediately lifted Chloe away from Isabelle. Chloe struggled desperately, turning her head and biting hard into Asher’s bicep. No matter how tough his muscles were, they were no match for her teeth. Chloe only thought of avenging her child, and Asher, in pain, immediately flung Chloe away. Chloe fell to the floor, her vision blurring for a moment, unable to sit up. She braced herself with her hands, glaring with gritted teeth at the two people before her. “You despicable, cheating pair! You murdered my baby! I will avenge my child!” Asher’s face was so dark upon hearing Chloe’s words, it almost dripped ink. He shook the blood from his arm, his voice cold and sharp, his eyes piercing. “Chloe, you’re absolutely insane.” “I’m insane?” Chloe lay on the floor, laughing, her heart bleeding endlessly. “Asher, you’re right. I am insane. I was utterly insane to have ever loved you, but you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it at all!” Asher glared at her. “You’re completely irrational! Guards, lock Chloe in the ICU! No food or water without my permission!” With that, Asher picked up Isabelle and left. Chloe was restrained by Asher’s bodyguards and locked in the ICU. She remained perfectly calm throughout, offering no struggle. She was imprisoned by Asher for seven days. Asher didn’t visit her once. On the eighth day, someone entered the ICU, but it wasn’t Asher. Chloe stared blankly at the person standing at the doorway. “Liam…” Liam was a medical student senior she knew from university. They had been good friends. She had thought she’d never see him again after graduation, but who would have thought they would meet under such circumstances. “Chloe, I finally found you. I’m taking you away.” A flicker of surprise crossed Liam’s eyes. “No… I’m not leaving.” Chloe struggled to move Liam’s hand away, a faint smile on her face as she looked at him. “Liam, I appreciate your kindness, but if I leave, Asher won’t let my family go.” “Chloe… your grandpa…” “What about my grandpa?” Liam lowered his eyes. “He… he passed away.” Hearing this, Chloe froze completely. Her vision instantly went black, and only a buzzing sound filled her ears. “You… what did you say?” The air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Chloe’s face went stark white. She gripped Liam’s arm tightly, her voice trembling in a way that twisted his heart. “Why? How could this happen?” Liam said gravely, “Your grandpa passed away from a heart attack. I was passing by his house yesterday and found him collapsed on the floor. Even though I immediately administered aid, he couldn’t be revived.” Chloe desperately shook her head. Grandpa Arthur had always been so healthy; how could he have a heart attack? This was impossible, impossible! Pain slowly spread across Chloe’s face, as if a thousand needles were simultaneously piercing her heart, causing her to sob loudly. “Liam, please, take me to see Grandpa.” “Okay.” At the funeral home. The moment Chloe entered, she saw the portrait of her grandpa in the mourning hall. In that instant, her vision blurred, and a sharp pain from her chest immediately triggered her tear ducts. Chloe’s tears gushed out, and her body began to tremble uncontrollably, collapsing onto the soft cushion. “Grandpa, Grandpa, I’m here. Why did this happen?” Chloe’s voice was hoarse, her breath ragged. The intense emotional shock ravaged her entire being, making her wish for death. Liam looked at Chloe, his heart aching. He knelt down to comfort her. “Chloe, please accept my condolences.” Chloe’s vision was a blur; she felt the taste of blood in her throat. She couldn’t understand. She had only not seen her grandpa for a week, and now they were separated forever by death. Just then, a group of burly men in black suddenly barged into the mourning hall. The man in charge spoke, giving an order, “Smash this mourning hall! Whoever smashes it the worst, I’ll give them twenty times their pay.” Chloe heard this and immediately panicked. “Who are you? What are you doing?” The leader glanced at Chloe, said nothing, but raised his hand and gestured. The group of burly men behind him began to tear apart the mourning hall. Liam stepped forward to stop them, but how could he be a match for these men? The moment he rushed forward, two men in black immediately hauled him away. Chloe’s eyes were bulging, unable to stop them. Her grandpa’s mourning hall was completely demolished. Despair spread through her heart, and even her breathing came with convulsive pain. *Why was she so useless? She couldn’t even protect her grandpa’s last shred of dignity.* Just then, one of the thugs, carrying her grandpa’s urn, ran out through another side door. Chloe almost shrieked, “What are you doing?!” She immediately gave chase, following him to the back door of the funeral home, where she saw the thug hand her grandpa’s urn to Isabelle! In that moment, a chilling realization dawned on Chloe: Isabelle was involved in her grandpa’s death!!! Isabelle raised her chin, watching the tormented expression on Chloe’s face as if it were the most delightful thing to behold. “Chloe, want to know how Grandpa Arthur died?” “You know?” “Of course, I know. He was killed by you, by his most beloved granddaughter!” Isabelle said, opening her phone, and pressing play on a video. “Chloe, look closely. Do you see it? Grandpa Arthur, he was so shocked by *that* that he died. The expression on his face at the time, it was truly…” Isabelle savored the memory, her face alight with pleasure, repeating the scene word by word to Chloe. Chloe’s eyes widened, staring at the phone screen, at her own tormented appearance at Asher’s hands. She clutched her heart in pain, her eyes bloodshot, tears streaming uncontrollably from her eyes. “Isabelle, how could you be so cruel! He was your grandpa too!” Chloe yelled, pointing at Isabelle, one hand clutching her heart. Over the past six months, all the pain she had endured, along with all the kindness her grandpa had shown her, flashed through her mind like a horrific film. Chloe completely broke down, slumping numbly to the ground, letting her tears fall. It was all her fault. She was the one who dragged Grandpa Arthur into this; she was the one who killed him! “So what if he was my grandpa? That old fool, all he ever did was care about you, never even asking about me. And in the end, he even wanted to leave the ancestral home to you! I’m his granddaughter too; why didn’t he consider me more?” Chloe felt like she was crying blood, not tears. She glared at Isabelle. “Isabelle, you’re not human! You’re an animal!” Isabelle laughed maniacally, completely unaffected. “Whether I’m human or not is none of your concern, but I know that once you give me your heart, you’ll soon stop being human, Chloe. Are you full of hatred? Utterly broken?” Hatred? Of course. She had lost her child, lost the grandpa who had loved her since she was a baby. How could she not be full of hatred? Despair? Absolutely. Asher didn’t love her, he tormented her, trampling her heart into the dirt. How could she not be utterly broken?

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I was married to Damian Thorne, an arms magnate, for seven years. My hands, meant for painting masterpieces, learned to assemble firearms and disarm bombs, walking through hell and back with him. But in the seventh year of our marriage, he became utterly obsessed with a former convent girl, delivered to his bed by his rivals. That girl was pure as freshly fallen snow, and for Damian, who had grown up steeped in blood and violence, she was an addiction he’d never known. He built her a lavish, secluded sanctuary, shielding her from every shadow. Until I unexpectedly discovered the word “divorced” on our official marriage certificate. I confronted him, shattering, but Damian casually polished his gun barrel. “Elara gave up her sheltered life for me. I owe her a proper name, a legitimate place.” He paused, eyes cold. “What compensation do you want? Just name it.” Consumed by bitterness and rage, I slapped Elara across the face at their wedding. That very night, my critically ill mother was tied to the front of an armored vehicle. “Seraphina, you shouldn’t have touched Elara. This is your lesson.” I fell to my knees, begging him to stop, but the engine roared to life, and my mother’s blood and flesh splattered across my face. Clutched my stomach, a searing pain, I screamed until darkness claimed me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I discovered I’d been divorced. This time, I didn’t confront him. I booked a flight that very night, desperate to take my mother somewhere Damian Thorne would never find us. … “Ms. Vance, our system shows your current marital status as divorced.” The monotone, official voice of the government clerk dragged me back to reality. My eyes widened in horror. I could almost taste the coppery tang of my mother’s blood in my nose. “When was this processed?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “August 29th.” My heart felt like it had been crushed by a blunt instrument. August 29th. Our seventh wedding anniversary. That day, I’d bought fresh flowers and candles, preparing a meticulously cooked dinner. But the candles melted down, the roses wilted, and Damian never showed. He had been busy dissolving our marriage. I clutched the divorce papers in my hand. As I turned to leave, I saw the familiar black Bentley pulling up outside. In that other life, I had stormed out, oblivious, to confront him. Damian, afraid Elara would discover our connection, had smashed the butt of his gun into my jaw, cracking it. Remembering that, I immediately ducked into the shadows of a corner. Moments later, the car door opened. Damian Thorne, usually so arrogant and domineering, acted like a chauffeur, personally opening the passenger door. Then he took off his trench coat and draped it gently over the girl’s shoulders, his movements impossibly soft. Elara Sterling was dressed in a simple white gown, her eyes serene, standing in the morning light like a vision of porcelain purity. Damian took her hand gently and led her inside. Elara’s pale lips tightened, her expression flustered. “Mr. Thorne, are you really going to marry me?” “Of course. I dream of this day. I’m responsible for you leaving your sheltered life, and I must take responsibility.” Elara’s slender fingers brushed against her slightly swollen belly. “But I was just an ordinary convent girl. I’m not worthy of someone as powerful and revered as you, nor am I worthy of carrying your child. Perhaps…” Her unfinished sentence was interrupted by a dominant, possessive kiss. I don’t know how long it lasted, but when it finally ended, Damian cupped her face, his eyes overflowing with doting affection. “Elara, no one in this world is more worthy of me than you. Only you are fit to bear my child.” A sharp, searing stab of pain suddenly ripped through my lower abdomen. I clutched my stomach, a desperate grasp, tears blurring my vision. It wasn’t until I saw them disappear into the marriage registry that I stumbled away, making a resolute decision. *** **【Chapter 2】** I took a cab to the hospital and scheduled an abortion. Lying on the examination table, the doctor sighed as she looked at the ultrasound results. “Ms. Vance, your uterine lining is naturally thinner than most. This might be the only child you’ll ever have.” I stared at the ceiling, my voice as calm as still water. “I’m divorced. This child shouldn’t come into this world.” The cold liquid surged through my veins, and my consciousness slowly blurred. In a daze, I saw Damian once, his ear pressed to my belly, listening to the baby kick, laughing as he talked about teaching our child how to modify guns. I saw him flipping through baby name books, talking about finding a name that brought good fortune. I saw him holding me, promising to distance himself from the bloodshed, to live a peaceful life with me, to be a good father… Finally, all those images froze on his words to Elara: “Only you are fit to bear my child.” Two hours later, my face pale and drained, I walked into my mother’s hospital room. She was still in a coma, on a ventilator, but she was alive. My living, breathing mother. In that other life, I had dragged my mother into ruin. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. I went through discreet channels to arrange her transfer to a new hospital. Then I went to the immigration office to process my emigration papers. In just three days, once all the paperwork was complete, I would vanish from Damian Thorne’s world forever. After doing all of this, I stood in the rain, feeling an unprecedented sense of lightness. Just as I was about to walk away, three men, masked and wearing baseball caps, suddenly rushed out from behind me. Before I could react, the iron bars in their hands whistled through the air, smashing into me. A searing pain sent me stumbling to my knees, my back instantly slick with blood. I didn’t need to guess. These were enemies of Damian, coming for revenge. I tried to grab my phone for help, but one of them slammed a bar down, shattering it. Then, countless blows rained down on me like a storm. Just then, that familiar Bentley drove past the intersection. It was Damian’s car! “Damian Thorne!” I screamed with all my might, struggling desperately to get his attention. The car slowed for a split second, and my heart hammered wildly in my chest. He saw me! But the next moment, the Bentley accelerated again, speeding away from the intersection without hesitation. Through the window, I saw Damian raise his hand to shield Elara’s eyes. In that instant, I lost the will to even scream. Of course. Elara was in the car. Damian wouldn’t want his pure, snow-white angel to witness such a bloody scene. Excruciating pain surged through every limb, my vision blurred, and my consciousness faded into the metallic tang of blood. **【Chapter 3】** When I opened my eyes again, I saw the stark white ceiling of a hospital room. The door was ajar, and I heard Damian’s subordinate say, “Boss, what if Ms. Vance discovers Elara? If she starts digging, we won’t be able to hide it.” Damian snuffed out his cigar. His voice was cold. “Don’t worry about that. Your only job is to protect Elara. She’s too pure, not like us. Sera is cunning, always playing dirty. Elara is too innocent, too simple-minded to stand a chance against her. If necessary, we can use Sera’s sick mother. She’s Sera’s only weakness; Sera won’t abandon her.” I clutched the bedsheets, biting down hard on the tender flesh of my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Years ago, when he proposed to me, he had knelt on one knee and said, “My Sera, with me by your side, no one will ever lay a hand on you.” The same protective instinct, the same promise, but the recipient had long since changed. The woman he once guarded was now, in his eyes, a dangerous schemer capable of playing dirty. Footsteps approached. I quickly closed my eyes, reopening them with an expression of icy indifference. “You’re awake? I had my men investigate. It was that Southeast Asian crew.” Damian walked to my bedside and tossed a document onto the blanket. “This is a ceasefire agreement. Sign it, and they’ll agree to abandon the South American arms market.” Our eyes met. I couldn’t utter a single word. I had almost died at the hands of his enemies, only to become a bargaining chip in his business deal. My voice was hoarse. “Damian, when did you decide on this deal?” Was it the moment he saw me being beaten? Or when he knew the Southeast Asian arms dealers were coming for me? Damian frowned, displeased by my probing. I knew better than to push. The answer, to me, was already irrelevant. As if to appease me, he worked from my hospital room for the next two days. But his phone was never out of his hand. Occasionally, he would smile softly at his screen, that gentle smile, once reserved only for me. I suddenly remembered the first time we met, seven years ago. He was being chased by enemies, covered in blood, and collapsed at the entrance of my art studio. He was like a dying lone wolf, his eyes fierce, yet betraying a hint of vulnerability. I should have called the police, but the moment our eyes met, as if by some strange compulsion, I dragged him into my studio. I never imagined that one act would drag me into an endless hell. Later, my family went bankrupt, and my father sold me to the largest underground black market in Southeast Asia. A depraved rich heir, known for torturing women, tormented me until I was a shadow of my former self. It was Damian, passing by, who rescued me. That was our second meeting. It was then that I understood: in this world, kindness was a useless weakness. From then on, I, once a budding artist, became the infamous ‘Gunsmith Queen,’ a name whispered with terror in the underworld. I assembled firearms and disarmed bombs for Damian, my hands stained with indelible blood. I thought we could stand shoulder to shoulder, equals. But he saw me as someone already swallowed by darkness, not as pure as Elara. I looked at my hands, hands that should have been holding a paintbrush, depicting landscapes, but now only knew how to dismantle weapons and engage in brutal skirmishes. Then I thought of Elara’s clear, pure-as-snow eyes, and the irony was crushing. All my profound love and unwavering loyalty had become nothing but a cruel joke. **【Chapter 4】** After I was discharged from the hospital, Damian claimed he needed to handle an arms deal and never showed his face again. It wasn’t until the day before I was due to leave that I went to the local chapel, wanting to pray for my unborn child’s soul. At the chapel gate, I saw Elara. She was bandaging an injured stray cat, her simple white dress making her look even purer. Perhaps her movements were clumsy, for the kitten struggled violently, spilling antiseptic everywhere. I walked over and took the cotton swab from her hand. “There’s still a tiny stone in the wound. Applying medicine will only make it hurt more.” This was the first time we’d been alone together since Damian changed. She didn’t know who I was. She pressed her palms together in a respectful bow. “Thank you.” I forced a faint smile, my heart surprisingly calm. When she learned I was there for my lost child, her eyes instantly welled up. She knelt before the altar, pressing her palms together in prayer. “Oh, Heavenly Father, please bless that unborn child to find peace in the afterlife, and grant this mother peace and health.” Standing there, I suddenly felt a flicker of pity. I wanted to tell her that Damian Thorne’s tenderness was poison, that anyone who got close to him would eventually be dragged into the abyss. But looking at her devout profile, the words caught in my throat. If she knew my true identity, she would surely break ties with Damian, and then all of his wrath would be unleashed entirely upon me. The horrific memory of my mother’s death in that other life/timeline surged into my mind, and a shiver of icy dread ran through me. I used the excuse of offering prayers and slipped into a quiet alcove, opening my phone to check the security camera feed. The caregiver was pushing my mother in her wheelchair for a walk, and only then did I feel a little peace. My mother was my only weakness. This time, I absolutely would not let her get caught in this conflict again. As I calmed my emotions and stepped out of the alcove, a cold gun barrel pressed against the back of my head. **【Chapter 5】** My body froze. I glanced towards Elara. She had already collapsed softly beside the offering altar. I cursed under my breath, ‘Of all the rotten luck!’ The next second, the gun butt smashed into the back of my neck. When I woke again, I was in a derelict warehouse, tied to a pillar with Elara. Her voice was trembling, on the verge of tears. “Who are you? We have no quarrel with you. Why are you holding us?” The next moment, a brutal slap landed across her face. Scar, the scar-faced leader, grabbed her hair. “Why are we holding you? Damian Thorne stole our biggest deal in Europe and America! We’re in this line of work—how could we just let that slide? He cherishes you, doesn’t he? I’m going to torture you to death, slowly, today!” So, they were the arms dealers from Europe and America. That territory wasn’t under my jurisdiction, which explained why they didn’t recognize me. I took a deep breath, discreetly using the small blade hidden in my sleeve to saw at my ropes. I’d been through scenes like this too many times not to have some precautions. Noticing I was awake, Scar rummaged through my wallet. “Ms. Vance, tough luck for you. Tell your family to bring ten million for your ransom, or wait for your corpse.” “Ms. Vance… I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this. But don’t be afraid! My husband will come rescue us soon. He’s incredibly powerful,” Elara said, her eyes full of trust, as if Damian was a divine savior. My hands paused, but I didn’t respond. Suddenly, Scar roared into his phone. “Damn it, Damian Thorne doesn’t believe me? Looks like I need to send him a big present!” He threw a knife at our feet. “Alright, men, cut this convent girl’s bastard child out of her belly and send it to Damian!” My pupils contracted. If Elara died here today, Damian would surely tear me and my mother apart for revenge. Elara was trembling uncontrollably, tears drenching her face. “No… please, don’t hurt my baby…” Her simple white dress was covered in dust, tears streaming down her face, a picture of fragile despair, like a terrified fawn. Her appearance completely ignited the savage instincts of these madmen. “Boss, this girl has such delicate skin. Why don’t we have some fun with her first?” Seeing them reach out to drag Elara away, I, having just cut through my ropes, charged forward, ramming into Scar and shielding Elara with my body. “Damn it! Beat her to death!” Scar roared, clutching his stomach, and the men immediately swarmed me. Two fists against a dozen, I could only protect Elara with my body, enduring countless blows and kicks. “Ms. Vance… don’t hit her… please, let her go…” Elara cried out, trying to block the blows, but I held her down tight. Just then, an SUV smashed through the warehouse door, and gunfire instantly echoed through the space. **【Chapter 6】** All eyes turned to the entrance. Damian Thorne stormed towards us like a madman, pulling Elara into his embrace. “Elara, don’t be scared. I’m here.” Elara sobbed in his arms, almost fainting. The moment she relaxed, she passed out. He carefully lifted her into an ambulance, gently wiping away her tears himself. I struggled to my feet, meeting Damian’s icy, piercing gaze, and my heart plummeted to my gut. “Seraphina.” His voice was low, yet carried a bone-chilling coldness. “Why are you here?” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood, forcing out a broken laugh. “If I told you it wasn’t me, would you believe it?” A hard slap landed across my face, sending me crashing into a pillar, blood immediately welling at the corner of my mouth. “Seraphina, can’t you even come up with a believable lie?” I spat out the blood, ultimately deciding not to say I was there to pray for our child. He placed his foot on my wrist and pressed down, grinding it. The excruciating pain forced a scream from me. “When did you start plotting against Elara?” “I didn’t.” Damian turned and shot Scar in the leg, then pressed the muzzle against his head. “Did she not?” Scar howled in pain, trembling as he pointed at me. “It… it was Ms. Vance who hired us! She said she’d pay us to teach that convent girl a lesson…” “You’re lying!” I retorted fiercely, but his men held my shoulders down tight. Damian sneered, then pulled the trigger, blowing Scar’s brains out with a single shot. “Seraphina.” He crouched down, gripping my chin, his eyes ruthless. “You hurt my Elara. You’ll pay with your most precious possession.” With a sickening crunch, he snapped my wrist clean. “Ah—!” The pain made my vision blur, my body convulsing. “Damian Thorne! How can you do this to me!” He stood up, adjusting his suit, his voice flat as if discussing something trivial. “Sever her hand tendons.” “Do it.” Two words, light as a feather, yet carrying a deathly chill. I was roughly pinned to the ground, my hands forced open. “Damian Thorne!” I cried out in utter despair. “Seven years ago, I should have let you rot in that alley…” His back, as he turned to leave, paused for a fraction of a second. But in the end, he didn’t look back. The second before the searing pain hit, I remembered him kissing my wrist, saying, “My Sera’s hands are meant for painting. If anyone dares to touch them, their entire family will pay with their lives!” Seven years ago, I saved him, stepping deeper into the abyss with each choice. Seven years later, he personally severed every last one of my hopes. Four in the morning. I lay sprawled on the cold warehouse floor, my hands twisted at grotesque angles. My loyal aide rushed in with a medical kit. Behind us, the warehouse blazed with roaring fire. In the car heading to the airport, cold sweat drenched my clothes, yet my voice was resolute. “Once the plane takes off, destroy all traces of me. I want the name Seraphina Vance to completely vanish from this world.” **【Chapter 7】** At the hospital. The moment Elara woke, Damian knelt on one knee to apologize, his palm gently stroking her cheek, his eyes full of self-reproach. “I failed to protect you.” Elara gently shook her head, tears still clinging to her lashes, but her first question was about me. “Ms. Vance? Is she alright?” Damian pulled her into his embrace, his chin resting on her head. “Why are you always so kind-hearted? I just love how pure you are.” Elara’s cheeks flushed at his words, and she forgot to press about me. After Elara fell asleep, Damian walked out of the room and said to his subordinate in a cold voice, “Take the divorce papers to Seraphina. And transfer 30% of Thorne Industries’ shares into her name. Tell her to be out of the mansion before dawn.” But the next day, Damian waited at Thorne Industries all morning, with no news from Seraphina. He stared at his messages, which had vanished without a trace, his fingers unconsciously tapping the desk. Beyond frustration, a strange unease began creeping up his spine – Seraphina had never ignored his calls before. “Where is she? Do I have to go get her myself?” His subordinate hesitated. “Boss, perhaps Ms. Vance is at the hospital.” Damian’s brow furrowed abruptly as he suddenly remembered that he’d ordered her hand tendons severed yesterday. No wonder she wasn’t replying. He tossed the divorce agreement to his subordinate. “Find out which hospital she’s in and give her these. And when you find her,” he called out before the man could turn, “assign two men to watch her. She’s vindictive; don’t let her play any dirty tricks against Elara. If you detect any unusual movements, send her to a private mental asylum. Release her after Elara’s child is born.” Late that night, Damian returned to the mansion. The master bedroom was empty, without a trace of me. That sense of unease surged again. Just as he was about to call his subordinate, a faint rustle of art supplies came from the art studio downstairs. She’s back? Well, where else would she go but to him? Her edges had grown sharper over the years. This was an opportunity to break her spirit, lest she harm Elara in the future. With that thought, he went downstairs and pushed open the art studio door. **【Chapter 8】** Moonlight streamed over the girl’s hair. Her slender fingers held a paintbrush, delicately outlining shapes on the canvas, pure as an untouched painting. Damian’s expression, however, darkened instantly. “Who told you you could touch these art supplies?” This set of custom German paints and brushes, he had personally commissioned for Seraphina. Her hands, besides holding a gun, could also paint gentle landscapes. In those years, after every late-night arms deal, I would always paint a “Starry Night” here. He knew it was her way of self-redemption. The paintbrush suddenly stopped. Elara looked up in a panic, meeting his cold gaze. “The butler said I could use them… I’m sorry.” Seeing her eyes redden, Damian’s expression softened. He pulled her into his embrace. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. These are my late wife’s belongings. If you like them, I’ll order a new set for you.” Elara’s eyes filled with sympathy, her earlier hurt instantly forgotten. So he truly harbored such deep affection for his wife, who had passed away five years ago. Such a man would surely make a good husband and father. At three in the morning, Damian’s phone suddenly rang wildly. His finger hovered over the answer button, hesitant—his intuition, honed by years in the underworld, told him this call would make him lose something very important. “Boss, Ms. Vance is gone! We can’t find her!” his subordinate’s anxious voice came through. “But we found her medical records. You should really see them yourself.” Damian was about to hang up when the subordinate added, “Boss, Ms. Vance knew you had divorced her a long time ago.” When Elara woke, she found Damian sitting on the balcony, smoking, the floor littered with cigarette butts. “Is work not going well?” she asked softly, thinking his job at the District Attorney’s office was indeed very demanding. Yes, afraid of alarming Elara, Damian had always lied, telling her he worked for a federal agency. Damian looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot. He had read the files his subordinate sent last night over and over again—Seraphina was pregnant. The day she terminated the pregnancy was the same day he married Elara, only an hour apart. He understood at a glance: Seraphina must have seen him and Elara going to get married. But she dared to abort his child. Initial anger surged, but then he looked at Elara, standing in the morning light, golden rays illuminating her white dress and dark hair, like an ethereal angel, pure as snow. So utterly different from that blood-stained, manipulative woman. This was for the best, he thought. They were divorced anyway. Her leaving on her own saved him the trouble. He should probably thank Seraphina. “No, it’s nothing. Work matters are handled.” He stood up and closed the window. “I reek of smoke. I’m going to shower.” Elara nodded, relieved. Damian went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He called his subordinate. “Wipe out those scum from Europe and America, every last one of them. Chop off their fingers and feed them to the dogs.” **【Chapter 9】** Elara became the new lady of the mansion. Damian ordered new art supplies for her, and for a while, she believed herself to be the happiest woman in the world. But after Damian took over the affairs Seraphina had left behind, the killing intent radiating from him grew heavier. Every time he came home and faced Elara’s pure face, he felt an overwhelming exhaustion—she was, after all, not like Seraphina; she couldn’t help him deal with his dirty business. And he still had to pretend to be some upstanding federal prosecutor in front of her. One day, after dealing with a traitor in his organization, he was about to follow his routine and bring Elara a small cake when he was suddenly captivated by an international art competition playing on a store screen. The familiar face on the screen was confident, vibrant, and full of life. That day, he went to buy Elara dessert, and in a gallery window, one of my old pieces was displayed. It depicted sunflowers blooming in the sun, painted with bright, spirited brushstrokes. It was like a vibrant red rose, blazing with color, outshining even the purest snow. Damian stood in the store for a long time, his heart still pounding even after the store closed. He walked into Seraphina’s old art studio for the first time in ages, the dusty easel standing quietly in the corner. Memories suddenly broke through the dam— The first time they met, Seraphina stood at the studio door, holding a sketchbook, her white dress splattered with paint, like an angel who had wandered into the darkness. That year, Seraphina had just graduated from college. He had pulled her into his world, utterly reckless. Seraphina was the only light in his bloody life; only by her side could he find a moment of peace. He had once sworn to protect Seraphina his entire life, to love her forever. When did that change? Was it when Seraphina first accepted a deal from his men? Or when she picked up a gun and killed for him? Seraphina gradually became like him, her paintbrush stained with blood, yet he began to crave a different kind of purity. Long-forgotten emotions surged, and Damian had only one thought: he wanted Seraphina back, no matter what it took. “Tear the world apart if you have to, but find Seraphina!” he yelled into the phone at his subordinate, his voice trembling. “Even if she’s dead, she’ll die in my arms!” “Boss, she’s been gone for so long. It’ll be hard to find any trace of her now.” “If you can’t find her, find her mother!” Damian interrupted. “She’s critically ill; she must be in a high-end nursing home. Seraphina wouldn’t skimp on her only family.” As he hung up, Elara stood at the art studio door. “Damian, who are you looking for?” **【Chapter 10】** Damian turned, his tone distant for the first time. “Work matters. You don’t need to worry about them.” Elara’s smile was a little stiff. She sat on the art stool. “What do you want to paint? I’ll paint it for you.” In a daze, he almost saw a familiar figure. “Paint ‘Starry Night’.” Elara froze for a moment—that was a very obscure painting. “Okay.” Days passed without a single lead. They couldn’t even find a trace of Seraphina’s mother. “Worthless! A bunch of useless fools! You can’t find a living, breathing person?!” Damian swept his desk clean, sending papers flying. “Why are you still standing here? Get out there and find her!” He had never been this agitated. Every day without Seraphina felt like his heart hollowed out a little more. In the wine cellar, he drank himself into a stupor. Elara pushed the door open, intending to help him back to his room. Damian had been distraught, and at first, she could convince herself it was truly just about work. But then she’d overheard Damian’s conversation in the art studio. Was his wife really dead? Elara’s hand instinctively went to her noticeably swollen belly. After a moment of hesitation, she knelt down, trying to help Damian up. “Damian, let’s go back to the room. I made you some hangover cure.” Damian said nothing, his eyes hazy as he stared at her face for a long moment. Suddenly, he reached out and cupped her cheeks, pressing a burning kiss to her lips. Elara blushed, her smile barely forming before she heard him murmur, “Sera… I miss you so much.” All the blood in her body instantly froze. The next day, Damian came downstairs to find Elara waiting for him in the living room. Wedding invitations were laid out on the coffee table. Before Damian could speak, Elara tentatively asked, “The doctor says the baby is strong. We can have the wedding now.” Before, Damian would have been ecstatic. Now, only irritation remained. He put his arm around her. “Have I been too busy lately? Is it affecting you?” “I just want to know when the wedding will be, and will it be public?” Elara looked up, her eyes filled with sorrow. “If you don’t like me, I can leave.” Damian stiffened for a moment, then placated her. “Next week. We’ll have the ceremony next week, and it will be public. Don’t overthink things, just rest and take care of yourself, okay?” After he left, Elara went to Thorne Industries, the company he’d mentioned in his files. She waited outside for three days, asking everyone she met, “Do you know Seraphina Vance?” Until one person, hearing Seraphina’s name, stared at her suspiciously. Soon after, Elara was disoriented and shaken, barely remembering how she got home. The basement door was ajar, and screams echoed from inside. **【Chapter 11】** Damian was having a man chained and dragged across broken glass. It was utterly barbaric. “Damian Thorne! I already gave you the South American deal! What more do you want?!” the man screamed. “What’s the South American market compared to my wife?” Damian sneered. “You should have known your fate the moment you laid a hand on her!” The man spat blood, a mocking glint in his eyes. “The day I sent my men to beat her, you were wrapped around your little mistress! Now you’re pretending to be so devoted? Disgusting!” “Cut out his tongue.” Damian’s voice was terrifyingly calm. This was his true face—not a grieving prosecutor mourning his late wife, but a ruthless arms magnate, his hands steeped in blood. Elara fled back to her room, frantically packing her bags. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. When Damian caught up, he saw Elara’s red-rimmed eyes and knew she’d seen everything. “Elara, those were just tactics. He hurt me, but that was the punishment he deserved.” Elara, tears still streaming, stopped packing. “Seraphina saved me. When those men tried to hurt me, she shielded me with her own body. She’s so good. I can’t betray her.” A flicker of panic crossed Damian’s eyes. Elara knew everything. He quickly stepped forward, grabbing her hand, trying to explain. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. I had my reasons…” He tightened his grip. “You have to understand me. You should understand me. Aren’t you the most compassionate person I know?” Elara pushed him away, tears flowing freely. “Do you know why she went to that chapel?” “Why?” Damian’s heart sank. “She was there to pray for your lost child. She truly loved you and your baby.” **【Chapter 12】** Damian’s outstretched hand fell uselessly to his side. A gut-wrenching roar of agony tore through the mansion. What had he done… I spent four months in a rehabilitation center in New York, undergoing nine surgeries on my hands. Every night I woke in pain, I’d go to the rooftop for air. That’s where I met Jaxson Reed. He’d broken his leg in a street race and would sneak up to the roof to drink beer, hiding it from his doctors. I asked him if he’d won. He flashed a wild grin. “Of course, sis. By just 0.01 seconds. I never lose.” On the day I was discharged, he handed me a love letter, blushing, and my dead heart felt like it started beating again. Later, I learned he was the son of a powerful New York crime boss, raised under his family’s protection. When he talked about the family business, his eyes gleamed like a coiled panther, ready to strike. I couldn’t help but be drawn to him, yet because of the shadows of my past, I always kept my distance. I picked up my paintbrush again, finding a job at a gallery. Jaxson would come pick me up every day after work. Today, I waited for half an hour with no sign of him. Just as I was about to call, someone clapped a hand over my mouth and dragged me into a van. When the black cloth was ripped off, I saw Damian Thorne’s face. “Long time no see,” he said. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. “What do you want? You’re not in charge here.” He ran his tongue over his reddened cheek, then leaned the other side closer. “Wifey, how about this side too?” I recoiled, a chill running through me. “We’re divorced. I didn’t stand in your way with Elara. What do you want?” “I’ve looked for you for a long time. I missed you.” A shadow of sorrow crossed his eyes. He was still wearing our wedding ring. “Come home.” “Dream on!” I sneered. “Damian Thorne, I hate you. Forever.” His eyes suddenly reddened. “I know about the baby. Sera, can we start over? This time, I’ll protect you.” I didn’t bother to reply. My smartwatch was already automatically sending a distress signal—Jaxson had given it to me; it would alert him if I left a safe zone. Damian rushed me towards a private airfield when Jaxson’s video call suddenly came through. On the screen, Elara was tied beneath a helicopter, cradling a baby. “Let her go, or I’ll send your wife and child on a one-way flight,” Jaxson’s voice was laced with challenge. I looked at the child, nearly a year old, and my brow furrowed—so he hadn’t split with Elara after all; the child was already quite big. The video ended, and Damian expressionlessly turned off his phone. “Let me go! He’ll really do it!” “She’s not as important as you. Sera, Elara means nothing to me compared to you.” His eyes were filled with a terrifying obsession. “For you, I’d give up everything.” I was stunned by the madness in his eyes. He’d truly lost his mind. The car sped forward. Just as it turned the corner, a motorcycle suddenly cut in front of us, and bullets instantly shattered the window. Suddenly, gunfire erupted everywhere. **【Chapter 13】** Damian’s men and Jaxson’s crew immediately engaged, fighting with murderous intent. He took a bullet to the abdomen, but still clutched my hand. “Don’t be scared, I’m taking you home.”

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My best friend suggested I use a fake account to test my boyfriend’s loyalty. I agreed. I registered a burner account and told her it was his. Once she added him, she immediately started trashing me, claiming I was cheating on multiple guys, that I’d been ‘around the block’ too many times. At the same time, she flooded him with super sexy, revealing photos—low-cut tops, legs spread, ass provocatively posed. “Hey, big boy, wanna hook up?” “I’m super obedient, you can do anything you want with me.” I replied, “I don’t believe it, unless you…” The next day, during a company-wide meeting, Serena was rushed to the emergency room by paramedics, after a foreign object inside her vibrated so violently, she collapsed. After my boyfriend proposed to me, my best friend, Serena, seemed a little off. Was she worried I’d be mistreated? But Liam was not only tall, handsome, and highly educated, he came from a good family and was completely devoted to me. I couldn’t find a single flaw. Or was she upset that after I got married, I’d have less time for her? I even tried to reassure her, “Liam loves taking me all over the world, but don’t worry, I’ll bring you a souvenir from every single place.” To my surprise, she got even angrier after hearing that. I tried everything to calm her down, but nothing worked. I started to get anxious and asked her what was really going on. Serena was my best friend; we’d known each other since elementary school. She’d been there for almost every important moment of my life. I really didn’t want her to have any unspoken concerns about my marriage or my fiancé. Serena counted on her fingers, stammering, “Chloe, I’m still a bit worried about Liam. Are you being too rash deciding to marry him?” My heart sank. Was Liam cheating on me? Seeing the change in my expression, Serena quickly waved her hands, “I’m just being reasonably suspicious, you know? Think about it, what man doesn’t stray? Especially Liam, with his amazing looks and background. Plenty of girls chase after him. Why would he be so completely devoted to *you*? Your… well, your ‘conditions’ are just… okay, I guess.” I frowned. What was she implying? That I wasn’t good enough for my own boyfriend? Serena quickly tried to backtrack, “My point is, marriage is a huge decision, a lifelong commitment. It’s never too late to make sure you fully understand and trust a person’s character before you tie the knot.” “What if he shows his true colors after marriage, cheats, or becomes abusive? Your whole life would be ruined!” I hesitated, “So what do you suggest I do?” Serena’s eyes lit up. She grabbed my hand and said, “Give me your boyfriend’s SnapChat. I’ll add him with a fake account and test him. If he can resist the temptation, it means he’s a good guy, and then I’ll feel comfortable letting you marry him.” Immediately, I felt uneasy. This clearly showed a lack of trust in Liam, and it wasn’t how I usually handled things. But Serena kept pestering me, so I finally told her I’d think about it and get back to her later. When I got home, I thought long and hard. I decided to tell Liam everything. Honesty was key in a relationship. Instead of playing games, it was better to talk things through. If there was a problem, we could cut our losses early. No big deal. I finished telling him, expecting him to be angry. Instead, he burst out laughing. He stroked my head and said, “Are you sure that’s your best friend? Or is she a frenemy trying to steal your boyfriend? Her intentions are practically screaming in my face. What a manipulative schemer.” Annoyed, I swatted his hand away. “What kind of talk is that? We’ve been together for over ten years; we’re not going to tear each other apart over some guy.” Liam looked like he wanted to say more but held back. Finally, he came up with an idea: “Okay, how about this. You register a fake account yourself. Give *her* that fake account and tell her it’s mine. Then *you* can chat with her using the fake account.” “Let’s see how she plans to ‘test’ me.” Just then, Serena messaged me again, urging me to give her my boyfriend’s account. A lightbulb went off. “Alright, that’s what we’ll do!” I immediately registered a fake account and sent it to Serena. The next second, I received a friend request: “Hey there, handsome.” I thought for a moment, and mimicking Liam’s tone, I replied: “Who is this?” She replied instantly: “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is, do you know your girlfriend is cheating on multiple guys behind your back, and you’re just going to be left holding the bag?”

I stared at my phone screen in disbelief. *This* was how Serena was testing my boyfriend? By immediately slandering me? I took a few deep breaths, steadying my trembling hands, and quickly typed: “What do you mean? What about my girlfriend?” Serena quickly sent a ‘hug’ emoji and replied: “She’s tricked you. Don’t let her innocent facade fool you. In college, she was notoriously wild, dating several guys at once. Her reputation was ruined long ago.” “To spice things up, she even sought out Black international students. So many classmates saw her going to hotels with several Black guys at once.” “There was even a period when she was constantly battling STIs, had growths down there—ugh, absolutely disgusting—and it took forever for her to get better.” “I know you’re about to marry her, but I just can’t bear to watch an honest, kind person like you be deceived by a woman like that.” With that, she sent another string of ‘kiss’ emojis. *This* was my best friend, spreading vicious rumors about me under the guise of “caring for my well-being”! I was instantly furious, but I forced myself to calm down. I replied: “Do you have proof of any of this? Don’t just make baseless accusations.” But Serena continued to fan the flames: “I have photos and chat logs from her college days. Want to see them?” How was that possible?! Before I could ask another question, she immediately dumped a pile of chat logs and photos on me. I clicked them open, and it *was* me! But these chat logs had clearly been tampered with and stitched together. Many were even fake conversations using my profile picture. And the so-called photos were group pictures of me participating in a school international student program, taken with international students. Packaged by Serena like this, combined with her detailed, seemingly credible story, even matching times and locations – if she sent this to anyone else, it really could fool them. After all, with “irrefutable proof” right there, who wouldn’t believe it? Rage pushed me to the brink of sadness, of utter despair. I was the clown all along. I’d been so good to her. I shared every good thing, every good news with her first. I stood by her unconditionally in everything. Why? Why would she do this to me? The next second, I had my answer. Serena seemed to give “Liam” three minutes to process, then continued: “I know you and your girlfriend, and I know about her hidden past. I totally understand how you must feel right now.” “A trashy girl like that doesn’t deserve you. You’ve been so good to her, and she still doesn’t appreciate it.” Then she changed tack: “Hey, handsome, what about me? I’ve been quietly following you, and my heart aches for you.” “If I had a boyfriend as amazing as you, I’d never cheat. I’d cherish you with all my life.” Hahaha… I laughed out loud, enraged by this sudden confession. So *that* was it. Liam was right. She wanted to steal my boyfriend. To pressure “Liam” into making a quick decision, she even sent several more super revealing, close-up photos—no face, just low-cut tops, legs, and a provocatively posed ass, with the caption: “I know you’re hurting. Come out and relax, forget about that rotten girl.” Liam saw the distraught look on my face and my labored breathing. He quickly took my phone away, telling me to calm down. He raised his hands and swore, “I’d never be interested in a two-faced person like Serena. You’re the only woman I love, wife.” “Don’t get upset over trash like her.” “Now you’ve seen her true colors. We’ll just cut her out of our lives. Out of sight, out of mind.” I gave a tight smile and patted Liam. “No way! She’s coming after *me*. Am I just going to let her get away with biting me?” I thought for a moment, then replied to her: “Who are you? Why should I believe a stranger’s words?” She immediately replied: “You’ll find out when we meet. It’ll be a real surprise.” For the next few days, I continued to play the role of the heartbroken and dejected Liam on SnapChat. I’d chat with Serena occasionally, but I wouldn’t commit to breaking up. Serena grew impatient, her messages becoming bolder and more direct: “Hey, big boy, wanna hook up?” “I’m super obedient, you can do anything you want with me.”

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Landon Thorne and I? We were infamous, a legendary toxic couple in our circles. After ten grueling years, we finally called a truce. The day Landon got back in town, he decided to make a grand gesture for some new girl. He tore my bar apart, all to put a smile on some pretty face. I ripped into him for it. “Tsk, loved smashing your place, didn’t I? What kind of compensation do you want? Name your price.” What could a dying person possibly ask for? It wasn’t until my last follow-up appointment that I knew. I was out of time. A mother and daughter, recovering in the same ward, looked at me with pity. “That poor thing, so young. And at the end, there won’t even be anyone to claim her body.” I sat in the cold hospital corridor, my fingers tracing the number I’d had saved for ten years. “If you really want to pay me back, then promise to handle my funeral.” *** It was a rainy night. The bar was almost empty. The TV screen flashed with news of Landon Thorne’s return. Just as I was about to close up, a young woman walked in. She folded her umbrella, her eyes bright as she pointed at the bottles behind the counter. “These? I’ll take them all.” Trailing in behind her was Asher Vance, Landon’s best friend. He saw me, and his expression froze. “Uh, maybe we should try somewhere else?” “I brought Landon some drinks from here once, he absolutely loved this brand,” she chirped, looking at me. “Bartender, I’ve booked the whole place tonight. Just get these ready for me.” I murmured a reply, my hand trembling slightly as I scooped ice. It wasn’t nerves, or anticipation. It was my illness. Untreatable. “Asher, can you help me light some candles? Landon will be so happy when he gets here, won’t he?” Asher didn’t answer. He knew Landon would never be happy if he saw me. On the news, Landon smirked at the camera. “I’m sure she’s watching this now. And I’m really looking forward to our reunion.” The camera angle highlighted the scar above Landon’s eyebrow. It was particularly noticeable. Yeah, I did that. With a kitchen knife. No real reason, just a bad mood. The ugly scar at the base of my thumb? That was him. He tore my hand open, and it got infected again and again. “So, where are you headed next, Mr. Thorne? With those roses, are you meeting your girlfriend?” He paused for a beat. “My fiancée.” The young woman, Jasmine, meticulously arranged the bar, then turned to watch the TV. “Asher, have you ever met his first love, the one he was with for ten years?” I lowered my head, shaking the cocktail shaker, but my peripheral vision caught Asher’s gaze. “Landon!” Jasmine rushed out, forgetting her umbrella. “Jasmine.” Landon tilted his umbrella to cover her. She eagerly rose on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her excitement palpable. Landon clearly flinched back for a split second. My gaze met his through the rain-streaked glass. Jasmine tried to follow his line of sight, but he lifted her chin, pulling her into a deeper kiss. I looked away, adding mint leaves to a glass. Asher was already at the counter. After a few hesitant moments, he finally spoke. “Please, just… don’t torment him anymore.” He thought for a second, then added, “She’s really beautiful, isn’t she? A little like you when you were younger. She’s only nineteen.” I nodded, feeling a strange disconnect. “She is very pretty.” Two figures walked into the bar. Landon folded his black umbrella. “Were you… talking about my fiancée?” His words hung in the air, that familiar gaze, so long absent, finally landing on me. Asher held his breath, watching me. He wasn’t sure if I was about to do something crazy again. But I simply placed the glasses in front of them. “Here you are, everyone. Enjoy.” Jasmine Hayes rested her chin in her hands, her eyes sparkling with joy as she looked at Landon. “Landon, try this. It’s your favorite, the one you loved.” He took a sip, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass. “Bitter and astringent. Yes, definitely my favorite.” Jasmine took a suspicious sip. “It’s sweet! You’re lying again!” She didn’t see it, but his eyes were fixed, deeply, on mine. The bar door burst open. “Bro! Welcome back!” A few guys swaggered in, but their cheerful faces froze the moment they saw me. Their eyes followed my movements, cautious, probing, then flickered to Asher.

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During a family dinner with our parents, my husband’s junior, Seraphina, threw a projected delivery bill onto the table in front of me. She declared that she was having my husband’s baby, and demanded I split the one hundred and sixty thousand dollars for the delivery and postpartum care. I stared at my husband, utterly stunned. I desperately hoped he would offer an explanation. Instead, he took Sera’s hand and turned to me, saying, “Sera is so lonely. I promised her a child, my own flesh and blood. As my wife, it’s your responsibility to share the expenses. Stop trying to shirk it.” In that moment, a chilling realization hit me. Nine years of marriage—it was all a pathetic joke. Some people truly belong in the trash. Just as we settled in for dinner with both our families, my husband’s junior slammed a bill onto my face. She stood, chin lifted high, a smug, triumphant smirk plastered across her face, like she’d just won the damn lottery. “Alex wants me to be a surrogate for him. I’ve calculated the costs from pregnancy to delivery, plus postpartum care—it comes to a hundred and sixty thousand. We’ll split it.” A suffocating silence descended upon the dining table. My parents, who had been clinking glasses and chatting cheerfully with my in-laws, froze, utterly bewildered. I stared at my husband, speechless. I prayed he would tell me it was all a sick joke. We were a couple, married for nine years, and we had always been childfree by choice. Now, someone else was having his child, and I hadn’t even known about it. I couldn’t believe this was real. But there he was, my husband, his fingers intertwined with another woman’s. His gaze on me was cold, ruthless. “Chloe, this child will be my flesh and blood. As my wife, it’s your responsibility to cover half the expenses. Stop trying to dodge it.” Emboldened by Alex’s support, Sera Blackwood shot me a defiant look, then lightly kissed Alex’s lips right in front of me. Then, she produced a signed agreement. “Regarding me having Alex’s child, I have three conditions.” “First, from now until I give birth, you must serve me well until the baby arrives safely.” “Second, after the baby is born, to help me care for the child, Alex will stay with me on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. He can only return to you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. You are not allowed to be jealous.” “Third, Alex’s and my child will be his sole heir and will inherit all of his assets. To guarantee the child’s inheritance rights, you must undergo a tubal ligation.” Listening to her outrageous demands, my parents finally snapped out of their initial shock. My mother’s face darkened, and she couldn’t hold back her anger. “What absurd nonsense are you talking about!” She turned to my in-laws. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, aren’t you going to do something about this?” Sera scoffed. “My godparents have already agreed to this.” Alex’s parents had long treated Sera like their own daughter. At her words, they both chuckled and nodded. “Yes, we are already aware of this matter.” Mrs. Sterling even tried to reason with me. “Chloe, you know that Sera’s father, Professor Blackwood, was Alex’s mentor. His only dying wish was for Sera to be cared for, to have a protector. Alex is merely honoring that wish.” “You’re an educated woman, you understand what it means to show gratitude, don’t you?” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “This repulsive affair, you call it gratitude?” Alex’s face immediately darkened. “Chloe, this is a notification, not a negotiation!” “Sera will be the mother of my child. If you speak to her like that again, don’t blame me for breaking ties with you!” I stared at him, utterly incredulous. “Alex, say that again!” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Chloe, I’m just trying to repay a debt of gratitude. Can’t you stop being so dramatic?” “Besides, Sera is intelligent, studious, and a high-achiever. Her excellent genes are more deserving of being passed on.” “Excellent genes?” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Her excellent genes led her to sleep with a married man?” Sera’s eyes immediately welled up. Alex shot up from his seat, shielding Sera. “Sera comes from an academic background. What do *you*, a small-town girl, know about such things?” “Besides, you refused to have my child, and now you’re going to deny me one from someone else?” A sharp pain pierced my heart. His words infuriated me completely. Before we got married, he was the one who insisted he was childfree and would never have kids. To support him, I also chose to be childfree. For nine years of marriage, my parents had subtly hinted a few times for us to have children sooner. I had always shut them down, just to avoid putting any pressure on him. Now, it was becoming his reason to condemn me? In that moment, I finally understood: nine years of marriage was nothing but a cruel joke! If he didn’t want to make it work, then none of us would! I shot to my feet, slamming my hands onto the table and flipping it over in one swift, furious motion. Plates clattered, and a rainbow of sauces and food splattered all over Sera and Alex. Sera shrieked. Alex’s face turned beet red with rage. Before he could speak, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Then I looked at Sera. “This garbage? I don’t want him anymore.” “You want him? He’s all yours!” “Alex, we’re getting a divorce!” I enunciated each word clearly, then turned and walked away. My parents, their faces grim, rose and followed me. Only a chaotic mess remained, and the pale faces of the Sterling family. Alex trembled, roaring at my retreating back. “Chloe! How dare you divorce me? You think that scares me?” “I’m telling you, go ahead and divorce! I’ll be just fine without you!” I didn’t look back. I hurried away from the Sterling house with my parents. I didn’t want to stay in that toxic place for another second! Alex, once you’re rid of me… Your good days are over too! After dropping my parents home, I returned to the house Alex and I shared, intending to pack my things. But as I reached the door, I saw all my belongings tossed outside, like trash. The door lock’s code had been changed. I called Alex, but he didn’t pick up. I had no choice but to try a SnapChat video call. It connected. But the person on the other end was Sera. She was sprawled across *my* wedding bed, wearing *my* favorite nightgown, her chest half-exposed, covered in fresh hickeys. Seeing me, she arched an eyebrow, her expression smug and taunting. “Alex and I are busy making babies, is there something you need this late?” I was about to speak when she casually dangled her hand. My vision blurred as I saw the diamond ring on her finger. It was my wedding ring, the one Alex and I had exchanged, a unique piece I had crafted myself. Just days ago, Alex had claimed he was taking it to be cleaned and polished. I never imagined he’d give it to Sera. Even the decorative items I used to place on the nightstand had been replaced by intimate photos of her and Alex. There were pictures of them kissing, and others of them embracing. Noticing my gaze, Sera flashed a wide smile. “Oops, my bad, Chloe. Alex said this house is mine now, and all that old junk shouldn’t be here, so I had your things thrown out.” I clutched my phone, my knuckles white. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Where’s Alex?” She blinked. “Alex? Oh, he’s in the shower.” She sighed dramatically. “You know, Alex is so insatiable. He kept insisting on another round. I’m just… waiting for him.” A wave of nausea washed over me. “Oh, right. Alex said since you’re the one who asked for the divorce, you should just take your things and leave.” “After all, he bought this house.” Before I could reply, Alex emerged from the bathroom, stepping into view. He was wrapped in a towel from the waist down, his upper body bare, his chest covered in red marks. His eyes still held traces of lingering desire. He immediately pulled Sera into his arms, his hands roaming over her. Sera feigned embarrassment. “Alex, Chloe’s watching.” Only then did he notice me. His face instantly changed, becoming annoyed. “Didn’t you want a divorce? Why are you crawling back in the middle of the night? This place has nothing to do with you anymore!” The fury in my chest finally erupted. “Alex, don’t forget, I put up the money for this house! And the startup capital for your company? I sold two tech patents for that! Even your first major deal came through my connections! Did you really get so full of yourself just because people call you ‘Mr. Sterling’? What right do you have to kick me out?” Alex had been on his high horse for too long; it had been ages since anyone ripped off his facade. Hearing me expose his dirty secrets, his face twisted in extreme ugliness. “Chloe, don’t flatter yourself! Everything I have now, I earned myself, and it has nothing to do with you! On the contrary, if you hadn’t married me, someone from your humble origins, would you be enjoying this good life now? For nine years, you and your parents have bled me dry. What right do you have to bark at me?” My heart ached with a searing pain. I looked at his face, contorted with rage, and my last shred of hope died. “Alex, for these nine years, every single penny my parents and I spent, I earned with my own two hands! Without me, do you really think an incompetent fool like you could be where you are today?” He gritted his teeth, seething. “I’m a high-achiever, how dare you talk about me like that? Do you honestly think the company can’t function without you? Chloe, who the hell do you think you are!” “You want to cause a scene, huh? Fine! I’ll give you one! Tomorrow, we’re filing for divorce, and you’re out of the company! I’ll show you that the company runs just fine without you!” “Alex, since you’re showing no mercy, don’t blame me for doing the same!” “Your company? It’s going down!” I sneered and was about to hang up the video call. Alex was so furious he stomped his foot, roaring just before the call ended. “Chloe, you think you’ll have a good life without me, without the company?! I’ve already spoken to every company in A-City! You won’t find a single job here! I’m going to make sure you can’t survive!” I hung up the video call without hesitation and turned to leave. I was afraid if I waited another second, I’d lose control and storm in there to destroy those two scumbags. The next day, I drafted divorce papers and went to the company to find Alex. Just as I reached the company entrance, I was stopped by a security guard. I frowned. “I’m the company’s Vice President…” The guard sneered, cutting me off. “Vice President of what? Early this morning, the company issued a notice—you’ve been fired!” “And, Mr. Sterling gave specific instructions: Chloe and dogs are barred from entering here from now on.” I clenched my fists, my chest aching with rage. Just then, Sera and Alex walked out together. Sera’s voice dripped with mock concern. “Oh, isn’t this Vice President Chloe? Why aren’t you going in?” Before I could speak, she feigned surprise, covering her mouth. “Oh, right, I forgot. Alex fired you. You’re a nobody now.” The security guard chuckled obsequiously beside her. Alex wore a sneering smile. I took a deep breath, pretending not to hear, and fixed my gaze on him. “I’m here to discuss the divorce.” A glint flashed in Sera’s eyes. Alex scoffed, pulling out an agreement and handing it to me. “I already prepared the divorce papers. Sign them.” I took them and glanced at the contents. My temples throbbed. “You want me to walk away with nothing?” The divorce agreement stated clearly that Alex wouldn’t leave me a single asset! How *dared* he? Alex smirked coldly. “What else did you expect?” Sera crossed her arms. “Isn’t that obvious? This is Sterling Corp. Everything you’ve enjoyed before was Sterling family property. What right do you have to claim any of Alex’s assets?” “Alright, if you want to save some face, just sign it.” Seeing me hesitate, Alex sneered, “I knew you wouldn’t let go of your comfortable life. Why the act earlier? Chloe, if you humbly agree to cover half of my expenses for Sera’s delivery, and go to the hospital for that tubal ligation, I might just give you another chance. Otherwise…” “No, I’ll sign.” I cut him off abruptly, pulled out a pen, and swiftly signed my name. Alex’s face was grim. “Chloe, you actually…” “Alex!” He hadn’t finished his sentence.

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President Julian Vance always loved bringing his friends home for dinner, claiming it made us feel more like a family. As I served a table full of dishes I’d cooked, one of his friends grinned and spoke up. “Mrs. Vance truly has the grace of the one and only Mrs. Vance!” My expression didn’t change. I playfully asked, “Oh? So there’s some petty little ‘other woman’ you’re comparing me to?” His friends froze, a flicker of panic in their eyes. Julian, however, just laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t listen to their nonsense. Besides you, who else in this world is worthy of being my wife?” Watching his nonchalant act, I smiled. But as I turned to walk away, I dialed a number. “Alex, Julian Vance is cheating. Let him rot in prison.” My brother on the other end of the line was silent for three seconds. “Clara, are you sure? Julian, he couldn’t have…” I slipped off the wedding ring from my left hand. The diamond dug painfully into my palm, a sharp echo of the pain in my heart. “We’ve been married for ten years. Every single one of his cufflinks, I had custom-made in Italy.” “But today, he’s wearing a cheap plastic flower. Alex, do you still think I’m wrong?” “You know I won’t tolerate any injustice. Expose all his dirty laundry to the world. And while you’re at it, get me the best lawyer. I want a divorce.” Hearing my words, Alex grew furious. “Consider it done.” Half an hour later, my phone pinged with an encrypted file. I clicked open the first photo: a sweet-faced girl in a white shirt, looking utterly charmed, was clinging to a man’s arm, her face beaming. On the wrist peeking out from her sleeve, I saw it—a wolf’s head tattoo, exactly like Julian’s. I didn’t hesitate. I immediately drove to his company. Minutes later, a girl with long, straight black hair, dressed in a white skirt, hurried out. I glanced at her employee badge: Willow Hayes. The moment she saw me, her face instantly drained of color, and she instinctively yanked her hands behind her back. But I still saw it: a custom-made Swiss watch. Last year, around my birthday, I received a notification for a Swiss purchase. A watch worth four-hundred-thousand dollars. A necklace valued at seven-thousand. The necklace was still carefully kept at home. The watch was on her wrist. I let out a cold laugh, cutting straight to the chase. “Ms. Hayes, your husband seems to have the same taste as mine. Even your custom-made watches have the exact same design.” Willow trembled at my words. Her painted lips gaped and closed for what felt like an eternity before she finally managed to stutter, “Y-yes… I guess men just have similar taste.” Her knuckles were white as she clutched the fabric of her dress. “Enough. Stop pretending.” “You’re the one they call the ‘other woman,’ aren’t you?” Seeing me lay it all out, Willow began to tremble even more violently, her panic palpable. “Please, don’t misunderstand. Mr. Vance just had another low blood sugar episode and fainted, and I merely helped him. His friends thought I was very attentive, and they were just joking around.” “I’m truly sorry if I caused any misunderstanding.” With that, she even exaggeratedly bowed ninety degrees to me. She put on the most pathetic, ‘poor me’ act. If I hadn’t witnessed her manipulative tactics with Julian myself, I might have actually fallen for it. Half a month ago, she posted a video on Ins. A man was swiping his card at a luxury car dealership next to a Porsche. Her caption read: “A man’s love is where his money goes.” Meanwhile, I was at home, burning with a fever so high I was drifting in and out of consciousness. I called Julian, asking him to take me to the hospital. He sounded flustered for a second, but then his voice turned hoarse, as if he was suppressing something. “Honey, I’ll have the housekeeper take you. I have something urgent here I can’t leave.” An hour later, I was in the hospital being resuscitated, suffering from pneumonia. She, however, posted a photo of herself lying in a car, a man’s perfectly sculpted abs visible, adorned with suggestive red marks. The caption: “New car and you, both forever branded as mine.” When Julian finally showed up, his shirt buttons were haphazardly fastened. He slumped by my bedside, his eyes red. Back then, I naively thought he was genuinely worried about me. But now I knew it was just the cheap guilt of a man who’d been cheating. A wave of nausea washed over me. *This* was the kind of cheap trash Julian thought was worth betraying me for? Too disgusted to watch her pathetic act any longer, I turned and left. But just as I got into my car, Julian called. The moment I answered, his voice was panicked. “Why did you suddenly decide to come to the office?”

“Why?” I started the car, asking casually. “Just had a contract to discuss, that’s all. Is there something you’re afraid I’ll find out?” Julian didn’t seem to expect such a question. His breathing hitched, and after a few seconds of silence, his voice softened, adopting his usual coaxing tone. “Honey, what are you talking about? I don’t have any secrets from you. It’s just that my office is a mess, and I’d have asked someone to tidy it up if I knew you were coming.” “Besides, how could I ever betray you? You can check anything you want.” Hearing that, I was somewhat surprised. Willow hadn’t told him I’d confronted her. I flipped through the evidence on my phone, listening to him rationalize. Three gigabytes of data, every single day somehow linked to Julian. Last Valentine’s Day, he claimed to be on a business trip abroad and couldn’t call, but he was actually with Willow, watching the Northern Lights. When my father was critically ill, I called him over thirty times, all unanswered. He was celebrating Willow’s birthday then. “I believe you, but what about that watch?” Seeing me bring it up, Julian seemed to relax a little. His voice moved closer to the receiver, a forced intimacy in his tone. “That watch? I fainted at the office, and Willow happened to pass by and took me to the hospital.” He paused, then added, “She stayed with me all night, so I bought her a watch as a thank-you. I just forgot to tell you about it.” Forgot? He seemed to forget a lot. Not just that, but also the three days and nights they spent in a hotel penthouse suite that same night. He forgot that too. A cold laugh echoed in my mind. “She’s quite meticulous, isn’t she? Even the black shirt you wore the day you fainted—she washed it, ironed it, and returned it spotless the next day.” Julian on the other end clearly stiffened, his breathing momentarily catching. Then he chuckled, trying to brush it off. “Isn’t she though? Such a thoughtful young woman.” “See, you’re always so suspicious. You’re the only one in my heart, honey.” His voice was close to the receiver, full of forced intimacy. “After this busy period, I’ll take you to the Maldives for a make-up vacation, just the two of us. How does that sound?” That gentle tone used to melt my heart, but now, it only made me sick. “Sounds great.” I gazed out at the passing city lights, my voice as calm as if discussing the weather. “But you focus on your important business first. Don’t let me get in the way.” “Nothing is more important than spending time with you, honey.” Julian’s voice held an eager, pleading note, but my heart grew colder and colder. Not because Julian had betrayed me and cheated, but because I couldn’t believe they’d been putting on this act right under my nose for so long. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I fought the urge to confront Julian then and there. I wanted him to admit his relationship with Willow in front of everyone, then utterly ruin both of them. I mumbled a few noncommittal words and ended the call. Just then, Willow’s Ins account updated. The screen showed her in a complex, diamond-studded wedding gown, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Another mistress tried to cause trouble today, wanting to take my place. Mr. Vance is making it up to me—he’s finally going to marry me!” “I only mentioned wanting a castle wedding, and he bought me an entire castle!” She hooked her lips, and the camera casually swept over a property deed. “And these wineries! He actually wants me to manage them!” “How could a little airhead like me possibly do that? Luckily, Mr. Vance promised to accompany me to assert my authority, so no one tries to bully me because I’m young!” Watching the video, seeing the property deed with my French name printed on it, a wave of pure fury surged through me. Those wineries were a coming-of-age gift from my brother.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298587”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic