I was at the hospital with my mother-in-law for a check-up when a frantic woman charged out of nowhere and stabbed her eighteen times. Every blow was lethal. Blood pooled on the floor, a gruesome tide, and she was dead before the paramedics arrived. Staring at her mutilated body in the morgue, my vision turned red with hatred. I swore I would make the killer pay in blood. But when I had gathered the evidence and the case went to trial, my husband, who was supposed to be on a business trip abroad, appeared in the courtroom—as a witness for the defense. A psychiatric evaluation, personally signed by my husband, Justin Bright, became the key piece of evidence. The murderer, Vivienne, was acquitted. “Luna, your mother-in-law was sixty. She lived a full life,” Justin said, his tone dismissive as he slid a blank check across the table. “Vivienne is only twenty-four. We can’t let one little mistake ruin her entire future.” “Name your price. How much will it take for you to sign the pardon?” I snatched the check from his hand and ripped it to shreds, my eyes burning. “Justin, that was your mother!” 1 Justin’s brow furrowed. He picked up his coffee cup. A searing, hot liquid cascaded down my head and neck as Vivienne, the woman beside him, emptied the cup onto me before smashing it on the table. “His mother is enjoying the sunshine in France, darling,” Vivienne sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “You should really think before you speak. Besides, even if I did touch Justin’s precious mother, he would only ever help me…” CRACK! I didn’t let her finish. My hand flew across the space between us, the slap echoing in the quiet café. Justin shot to his feet, his eyes like chips of ice. “Luna, don’t push it.” He moved to shield her without a moment’s hesitation, his gaze completely ignoring the angry, red blotches blooming on my skin from the burn. I tried to match his cold composure, but my fingers trembled as I spoke. “Justin, don’t you dare forget how the Bright family got back on its feet!” His expression froze. He grabbed Vivienne’s arm just as she was about to smash a wine bottle over my head. She wrenched free and brought the bottle down on his skull instead. “Justin, you bastard! You’re defending your wife?” she shrieked. “I was wrong about you! Go to hell!” The bottle shattered. He calmly brushed the glass from his hair, his hand gently circling her wrist to soothe her. Then, his cold eyes found mine again. “I’m giving you one last chance to reconsider.” His assistant immediately held a phone in front of my face. The screen showed my father, alive only thanks to a rare experimental drug, lying in a hospital bed. A man’s hand held the bottle of life-saving pills over a drain. He tipped the bottle. A few precious pills tumbled into the darkness. “Sign the pardon, or decide how many more days you want your father to live. Your choice.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. I tried to stand, but Justin’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, forcing me back into the chair. “Luna, are you really going to sacrifice your living father for a dead woman?” His words were like shards of glass, tearing me apart. Years ago, because of his and Vivienne’s reckless behavior, the Bright family had been targeted by a dozen rival companies. He was kidnapped. When the Bright family was powerless, it was his grandfather who came to my family, begging for help. My father, unable to stand by while his old friend’s son was in mortal danger, offered himself as a replacement hostage. He was shot by the captors, the bullet severing nerves and leaving him permanently disabled. To repay that debt, Justin, a brilliant biochemist, had personally developed the drug that kept my father alive. I remembered him kneeling by my father’s bedside, his hand gripping mine as he made a solemn vow. “I, Justin Bright, will love and protect Luna for the rest of my life.” Three years into our marriage, he had broken that promise. The day Vivienne returned from abroad and smashed the windshield of his car in a fit of rage, all his love and protection for me vanished. I trembled, my lips quivering as I stared at him. “Justin, do you remember that my father is like this because of you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Vivienne is practically your sister. There’s no need to be so vicious.” “Sign it. You and your father will be fine. Besides, your mother was over sixty. The maximum compensation you could get in court is less than a million. I’m letting you name your own price. You’re coming out ahead here.” The air was punched from my lungs. “It doesn’t matter whose mother she was! She gave birth to us, raised us! Is a bit of money supposed to make it okay to let her killer walk free while she can’t rest in peace?” “Just take the damn money,” Vivienne drawled, leaning against Justin and shooting me a malicious glare, utterly devoid of remorse. “This is the most cash a poor bitch like you will ever see in your life, unless another one of your relatives dies.” It was as if she hadn’t killed a human being, but had merely squashed an ant. Before the entire Bright clan had pressured me into this marriage, I had heard stories about Vivienne. She was Justin’s childhood friend, his rabid shadow. In the five years before our wedding, their relationship was a storm of pure, destructive obsession. He once chopped off her boyfriend’s fingers and sent them to her as a birthday gift. She retaliated by gouging out the eyes of a woman who got too close to him and presenting them as a New Year’s present. Other people’s lives were just stepping stones for their twisted love affair. Their families cleaned up one mess after another, a cycle of violence that had driven Justin’s own grandfather to a stress-induced stroke. I used to find the stories hard to believe. Now, I was trembling with the reality of it. “Justin, that was your mother’s life. A living, breathing person.” “Her body is still in the morgue. You can go see for yourself!” 2 Vivienne snorted, flicking her hair. “Why would I want to look at a dead body? Don’t try to stall, waiting for those old Bright sycophants to come and save you. They all died abroad yesterday trying to find some miracle cure for the old man.” Her words were disgusting, but Justin didn’t even flinch. He showed none of the cold fury he reserved for me when I stepped out of line. Instead, he just tapped the table and pushed the pardon toward me. “Sign it first, talk later. Otherwise, your father won’t live to see tomorrow.” On the phone screen, more pills disappeared down the drain. If this continued, my father wouldn’t last until the next batch of medication could be synthesized. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a dozen needles. The document in front of me was already signed by Justin. He didn’t care about the truth; he only cared about exonerating Vivienne. I forced the air back into my lungs, my voice laced with the bitter taste of disappointment as I signed my name. “Justin, I hope you don’t regret this.” “There, see? I knew you’d be reasonable.” A rare smile touched his cold lips as he snatched the document from my hand. “Tell my assistant whatever you want. He’ll buy it for you.” I laughed, a hollow, mocking sound. As if I wanted his money. Ever since Vivienne returned, I was nothing more than a gold digger in his eyes. He threw money at me to solve every problem, but for Vivienne, he gave his time, his resources, his loyalty—even his life. Now, with two lives on the line, his favoritism was sickeningly blatant. The thought of divorce, once a fleeting idea, now became a burning certainty. “Justin, you can come with me to the morgue now—” “The morgue? Are you trying to jinx me?” Vivienne cut in. “I was just wrongfully accused in court. The last thing I need is the bad luck of a morgue. It’ll ruin my whole year.” She turned to Justin, a challenging glint in her eye. “How about a race to celebrate my new lease on life? You and me?” Justin tucked the signed pardon into his jacket and raised an eyebrow. “For you? Anytime.” He turned to leave, tossing a final, careless sentence over his shoulder. “I’m busy today. You handle the funeral. Tell my assistant if you need anything. I’ll stop by on the anniversary if I have time.” He was always busy after Vivienne came back. Too busy to remember my birthday, our wedding anniversary, even the anniversary of our child’s death. And now, he was busy enough to go racing with the woman who stabbed his mother eighteen times, but not busy enough to see his mother one last time? I stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. With the heads of the Bright family gone, it fell to me to handle the arrangements. At the morgue, the body was a mangled ruin of flesh and bone, barely human. The tears I had held back for so long finally fell. I remembered hearing how my mother-in-law had almost died giving birth to Justin, how she had screamed at the doctors to save the baby, not her. Now, she was a butchered corpse, and her son wouldn’t even look at her. “Prepare the casket. We’ll take her home,” I told the assistant. “And notify the rest of the Bright family abroad. Tell them to come home to pay their last respects.” The wake was set up quickly in the main hall. A photo of my mother-in-law, her expression kind and gentle, sat on the altar. Just then, my phone buzzed with a priority notification. It was a new, pinned post from Justin. He had ignored the message I’d sent him five hours ago, but he’d had time to post this: a video of Vivienne, behind the wheel of a five-million-dollar McLaren he’d bought her, winning a race. On the podium, she grabbed his tie and pulled him into a ferocious kiss. The look on his face—breathless, passionate, utterly consumed—was something I had never seen before. The crowd around them roared with approval. The caption read: To my rose’s new beginning. Washing away the bad luck! The words stabbed at my eyes. I unpinned his contact from my favorites and sent another message. Justin, the very least you could do is come home and see your mother one last time. The earliest the other family members could arrive was tomorrow morning. I couldn’t be the only one to sit vigil on the first night. Instead of a text back, I got a call. It was Vivienne. “Will you ever give it a rest?” she snarled. “Your mother-in-law is dead. Get over it and stop ruining our good time!” “Let me speak to Justin,” I said, my voice flat. “Or I will keep calling.” “Fuck, you persistent bitch! Hey, Bright! Your scheming, pathetic wife is on the phone again. Get rid of her!” A moment later, Justin’s irritated voice came through the line. “Luna, my mother is perfectly fine. Stop trying to curse her!” I sent him a photo of the funeral hall and spoke calmly. “The family’s oldest servants prepared this wake. Do you really think they’re blind enough to mistake my mother for yours?” 3 There was a silence on his end, broken by Vivienne’s sharp laughter. “Hahaha, is that the best fake picture you could come up with? His mom literally just sent me a voice message. As much as I might hate you, I would never hurt Justin’s family.” My mother-in-law’s familiar voice played through the speaker. I froze. Vivienne’s voice, dripping with scorn, followed. “What’s the matter? Feeling lonely, you pathetic housewife? Is this the only trick you have to get your man to come home? If you’re that desperate, I can send a few homeless guys over to keep you company.” Justin’s voice was tight with anger when he spoke again. “Luna, you are exhausting. This is what I can’t stand about you. You’re not daring and passionate like Vivienne. You’re not honest about what you want. You’re just… scheming and disgusting.” My hand clenched into a fist. After the accident that had nearly destroyed his family, when Justin Bright had gone from a golden boy to a disgraced drunk, it was me. I was the one who went to my grandfather and begged for the capital to rebuild. I was the one who pulled him out of his alcohol-soaked despair, who stayed up with him through endless nights as we hustled for clients and rebuilt his empire from nothing. Back then, he would hold me tight in the hours before dawn and whisper, “Luna, I can’t live without you.” And now… “Try to be more like Vivienne,” he spat. “Carefree, liberated. Stop being so damn suffocating.” My nails dug into my palms. My heart felt like it had been plunged into ice water. “This is the last time I will ever call you,” I said, my voice dead. “If you don’t come back, don’t you dare regret it later.” Then I hung up. At two in the morning, after kneeling at the wake for four hours, I finally heard the sound of a car pulling up. For a foolish moment, I thought his conscience had finally kicked in. But the person who strode in was Vivienne. “Who let her in here?” I shot to my feet, my voice a sharp command to the household staff. “Don’t you know she’s the murderer?” The servants trembled, their heads bowed. “She has Mr. Bright’s security clearance, ma’am. We had no choice.” Vivienne smirked. She kicked over the incense burner on the altar, smashed the framed photograph on the table, and ground the shards under her heel. “Why so surprised? You only became Mrs. Bright because I allowed it. Now get on your knees and thank me.” I didn’t move. I dialed the emergency number, but before I could connect, Justin rushed in, his head bandaged, and knocked the phone from my hand. “That’s enough. It’s a small matter, no need to involve the police. We can just set it up again. It’s not like the body is going anywhere.” The moment he finished speaking, Vivienne threw open the lid of the casket. She emptied a bucket of reeking, dark liquid—black dog’s blood mixed with urine—all over the corpse. The foul stench filled the hall. My mother-in-law, a woman who prized cleanliness above all else, was being desecrated in her own coffin. I lunged forward, but Justin’s grip on my wrist was like iron, nearly snapping the bone. “Justin, that is your MOTHER!” I shrieked, my voice raw, but he held me fast. “Vivienne went a little too far, I admit,” he said calmly. “But you faked my mother’s death photo. We’ll call it even.” Ptuh. Vivienne spat directly into the coffin, then turned and slapped me across the face. The force sent me stumbling to the floor, the taste of blood filling my mouth. “That’s for what you owe me. Don’t mess with me, or I’ll kill you next.” She raised her hand to strike me again, but Justin caught her wrist, his brow furrowed. “That’s enough. You’ll hurt your hand.” Vivienne spat in my direction one more time. “You’re lucky Justin’s gotten soft these last three years. Otherwise, I’d have your dying father chopped into pieces and fed to the dogs.” “Alright, alright,” Justin said, his tone one of weary indulgence. “I came back as soon as you called, didn’t I? You crashed my car, you trashed this place. Isn’t that enough to make you feel better?” He stood there, his shoes trampling the shattered remains of his own mother’s portrait, placating the woman who had defiled her corpse. Feel better? The memorial tablet was being scrawled with obscenities. The kind face in the portrait was shattered and smeared with filth. His mother’s body was covered in spit and reeking liquid. And this was all just to appease Vivienne’s temper? My throat felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton. “Justin, if you would just look at the hand on the corpse, you would know it’s not my mother!” He paused, his gaze finally shifting toward the open casket. 4 On the corpse’s finger was the Oppenheimer Blue, a one-of-a-kind diamond ring her late husband had given her. Vivienne’s eyes followed his. A flicker of greed crossed her face, and she shot me a venomous glare. “Aha! I knew it! I told you that you and your mother were nothing but common thieves! You took advantage of your mother-in-law’s absence to steal her ring and put it on a dead body!” Before anyone could react, she reached into the coffin, brutally snapped the dead finger off at the knuckle, and wrenched the ring free, clutching it in her fist. She looked down at Justin with a mocking sneer. “You’ve really lowered your standards, Justin. Marrying a gold-digging thief with sticky fingers. I’ll hold onto this for you, before she pawns it.” Justin, who had been about to look closer, turned his suspicious gaze back to me. “I always suspected your father had an ulterior motive when he saved me. It’s only been a few years, and your family is already showing its true colors. I’m glad I listened to Vivienne and didn’t let you keep that child.” I was being helped to my feet by a maid, but his words froze me solid. I stared at him, my body turning to wood. “Justin… what did you just say?” Vivienne cackled, pointing a finger at me. “What did he say? He’s talking about your dead baby! You thought you could trap him, use a child to swallow the Bright family fortune whole, didn’t you? You already have so much company stock, you greedy bitch.” A gaping wound opened in my chest. Her voice was a relentless drone in my ears. “So, we arranged a little ‘car accident’ for you. Hahaha, you idiot, did you really think he was sending someone to save you? He couldn’t wait for that baby to die!” The room went black. As I collapsed, my mind went completely blank. Justin frowned and hauled me to my feet. “It was my child, too. If you weren’t so manipulative…” CRACK! I slapped him again, my vision swimming in red. “And you knew it was your child?” He turned his head slightly, his jaw tight, his expression cold. “When you learn to behave, we can have another.” Vivienne, who had been laughing, froze. A toxic, resentful look flashed in her eyes. “There won’t be a next time, Justin,” I said, my voice hollow. “You don’t deserve one.” I pulled free from his suddenly tight grip and knelt, mechanically gathering the broken pieces of the portrait. Justin stood over me, looking like he wanted to say something. Suddenly, the doors were kicked open. A group of grim-faced, middle-aged men holding knives stormed in. Justin went pale. He immediately shoved Vivienne behind him, leaving me completely exposed, a blade instantly pressed against my throat. The man in the lead had dark, menacing eyes. “Justin Bright. Is this Vivienne?” “What do you want?” Justin demanded. The man gave a chilling, humorless smile. “My daughter was kind enough to give you directions once. For that, Vivienne had a dozen men rape her! My little girl… she wasn’t even eighteen! They left her to die next to a dumpster!” He slammed his knife into the altar table. The other men closed in on me and Vivienne, their hands reaching for our clothes. “I’m only here for revenge, not to harm the innocent,” the man said, turning on a camera. “Take your wife and get out.” “Honey, save me!” Vivienne shrieked. Justin hesitated for a second, then walked toward me. To my utter shock, he leaned in and whispered an apology in my ear. “Luna, look, you’ve been pregnant before, you’ve had a miscarriage. Your body can handle it. But Vivienne is different. I have to protect her. Just be understanding. I’ll make it up to you later.” With that, he slapped me hard across the face and shoved me into the arms of the waiting men. He turned, wrapping his arms around a trembling Vivienne, and yelled at me with righteous fury. “You did this! You did all those terrible things, and you deserve to have your mother-in-law die and her funeral desecrated!” Vivienne clung to him, a picture of terrified innocence, but the look she gave me over his shoulder was one of pure, ecstatic triumph. “That’s right,” she purred. “Maybe with all these men, you’ll finally stop lusting after my husband.” Seeing the men hesitate, Justin roared, “What are you waiting for? Get on with it! Look at her, she’s obviously been through a few pregnancies. My Vivienne would never be so promiscuous!” I clutched the sharp shards of the portrait in my fist, my heart turning to absolute stone. CRASH! Before the men could touch me, the doors burst open again. A flood of security guards poured in. One of them grabbed Justin by the hair, forced him to his knees, and delivered a brutal slap across his face. Justin was stunned. He looked up, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to retaliate—but when he saw the face of the man standing before him, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You!”

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After I called off my engagement to Max, we ran into each other in the maternity ward of the hospital. He was holding hands with his first love, Ava, their fingers intertwined, their every move an intimate dance. When Ava saw the pregnancy report in my hand, her eyes instantly welled with tears. Max’s brow furrowed, his expression cold as ice. “Deal with it. Don’t make a scene.” I shot him a chilling glance. “It’s not yours.” Later, his voice was tight with desperation, “Even if it’s not mine, I’ll claim it.” But then he saw Teddy, wrapped in a towel with his sculpted torso on full display, strolling out of the bathroom. “Well, Max,” Teddy drawled, “Trying to steal my wife and my kid? You really are ambitious, aren’t you?” 1 The text from Max canceling our engagement arrived while I was at the hotel, finalizing the layout and details with the wedding planner. “Ava’s back. The engagement is off.” I stared at the screen, the air knocked from my lungs. I was frozen in place. The planner was still talking right next to me, but his voice was a muffled drone. I couldn’t make out a single word. “And then what?” I typed, my hands trembling. Max’s reply was instant, devoid of any hesitation. “She’s been diagnosed with severe depression. She’s back in the country for treatment and can’t handle any stress.” I remembered the taunting message Ava had sent me just last night. “As long as I want him, you two will never get married.” I had thought, with both our families and all our friends already notified, that Max wouldn’t indulge her games this time. But I had underestimated how much she meant to him. Swallowing my rage, my fingers flew across the screen. “So when she’s cured, we can get engaged then?” I had no intention of arguing with him about whether Ava was truly sick. Even if I exposed her lies, Max would just see it as me being unreasonable. He didn’t reply. My message vanished into a digital abyss. A wave of icy dread washed over me, starting from my toes and creeping to my fingertips, as if I’d been doused with freezing water in the dead of winter. He always did this—ran from our problems. In his mind, I’d cool down and come back to him eventually. But this time, I was just… tired. I had no fight left in me to compete with Ava for his love, no energy left to wait for another empty apology and another broken promise. I called off the hotel staff and paid the cancellation fee. Then, I sent Max one last message. “We’ll notify our own friends and family.” His reply was brutally simple: “Okay.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I deleted him from my contacts. 2 My seven years with Max had been a roller coaster of breaking up and getting back together. And every single time, it was because of Ava. He loved her but couldn’t marry her. He didn’t love me, but I was the one he was supposed to marry. Max’s mother had once told me, quite bluntly, that she wasn’t looking down on my family’s fallen fortune. She had pushed for this engagement under immense pressure because she thought I was beautiful enough, and that the history we shared as childhood sweethearts was strong enough. She hoped I could be the one to finally tie Max down and drive away the delusional woman hovering around him. I used to believe that if I just tried hard enough, if I just stayed by his side, one day he would finally see me. But that day never came. My love for him had been worn down, piece by piece, until nothing was left. When I got back to our house to pack, Max still wasn’t home. He was at a restaurant, having dinner with Ava. She’d posted a picture on her Instagram. Max’s face wasn’t in it, but the ring on his hand was unmistakable. It was one of the engagement rings we had picked out together. I slipped my own ring off and placed it on the dining table. But then I reconsidered. Why bother trying to get his attention? I picked up the ring, walked to the bathroom, and flushed it down the toilet without a second thought. I was dragging my suitcase to the front door when Max walked in, carrying Ava in his arms. “Long time no see,” I said breezily, nodding at Ava. Ava looked startled, glancing at Max, completely at a loss. I suppose she was used to me turning into a screaming wreck after a few of her provocations. My current state of calm seemed to have thrown her off completely. Max’s gaze landed on the suitcase in my hand. His surprise was fleeting, his expression quickly returning to its usual indifference. “This is for the best,” he said. “You moving out for a while will be better for Ava’s recovery.” Asking his fiancée to move out of their home so his first love could recuperate there. He said it so shamelessly, so matter-of-factly. And I had loved this piece of trash for seven years… I was done playing games. I pulled my suitcase and walked out without looking back. As I walked away, I heard him say, “Don’t worry about her. She always comes crawling back.” Ava’s voice was a sweet pout. “You’re not even going to comfort me when I’m upset?” “How could I ever bear to make you upset?” I fought the bile rising in my throat and walked faster. 3 I moved back into the apartment I’d bought myself. It was situated above a bustling commercial district. I liked the noise, the energy, the feeling of life. Max preferred quiet. He hated this apartment. And he especially hated my neighbor, Teddy. Another golden boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, just like him. Max despised Teddy. I think it was because he was jealous of Teddy’s courage to fight for love, a courage Max himself lacked. Teddy had the guts to break with his family over a woman; Max didn’t. And Teddy was far more reckless than Max ever could be. The woman Teddy wanted to marry was a B-list actress, plagued by scandals from the moment she entered the industry. His family would never allow an actress, a “performer,” to marry their heir. So Teddy simply walked away, ready to build his own empire rather than compromise. Compared to Max, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too, I genuinely admired Teddy’s unwavering devotion. The night I moved in, Max did something he never did: he called me. “I’m worried Ava will get upset if she sees the things you left behind,” he said, his tone still dripping with that condescending generosity. “Where are you now? I’ll have them sent over.” I didn’t stop folding my clothes, just cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Just toss them,” I said nonchalantly. “It’s all stuff I don’t need anymore.” Silence on the other end, punctuated only by the sound of his heavy breathing. A moment later, his voice was tight with anger. “Cara! What the hell is your problem?” “The engagement is only postponed. Once Ava is stable…” I cut him off, unable to listen anymore. “Sorry, Mr. Cole, I’m really busy right now.” I hung up and blocked his number. Stepping out onto the balcony, I let the night breeze wash over me, gazing at the glittering city lights. Leaving Max was easier than I ever imagined. A soft, rhythmic sound from below broke the quiet. I instinctively leaned over the railing to look. The balcony below was lush with plants. Through the leaves, I could just make out a pair of pale hands gripping the railing, and the top of a bobbing head. Well now. That was Teddy’s apartment, where he lived with the actress. Those two certainly knew how to have fun. Not wanting to pry, I went back inside to finish unpacking. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it and saw who was standing there, my brain short-circuited for a second. If Teddy was here… Then who was that downstairs?! 4 A flicker of surprise crossed Teddy’s eyes as well. “Sorry, wrong door,” he said, turning to leave. “I just moved in today,” I called after him. “Want to come in for a drink?” I don’t know why I said it. Maybe I felt a bit sorry for him. A fellow member of the recently-cheated-on club. Teddy turned back, an eyebrow arched. “Oh? So we don’t have to keep our distance anymore?” Max hated Teddy, which meant he hated me having any contact with him. Even though Teddy was the primary investor in my chain of flower shops, we barely ever met, save for a brief meeting at the end of the year to go over profits. Come to think of it, it was through Max’s family connections that I was able to reconnect with Teddy and secure his investment in the first place. The shops were now turning a healthy profit, which gave me the courage to walk away from Max. So, I guess my seven years with Max weren’t a complete waste. I shrugged. “We broke up.” “Again?” A smirk played on Teddy’s lips, a hint of schadenfreude in his eyes. He strolled in, draping himself over my sofa and propping his long legs up on my coffee table. He had none of the cool, aristocratic air I remembered from our first few meetings; he was all casual, roguish charm. I picked out a fine bottle of red from my wine cabinet. “This time, the engagement’s off.” I handed him a glass, my expression neutral. He swirled the wine, a laugh bubbling up. “Whoa, expensive stuff.” “Looks like you got hit hard this time. Need me to help you drink your sorrows away?” If he hadn’t knocked on the wrong door, he’d be the one getting hit much, much harder. I nodded. “It is expensive. It was a gift from you, last year at the annual party, after you got drunk.” It was a collector’s vintage. I hadn’t wanted to take it back to Max’s place, so I’d stored it here. Now, it was finding its way back to its original owner. Teddy’s eyes widened slightly before he tipped his head back and downed the glass in one go. “Well, let’s just call it a celebration of your escape from hell.” I raised my glass. “And here’s to you…” “…finding your own true love soon.” Being cheated on is something no man wants to hear about from someone else, especially from a woman he barely knows. Unfortunately, my subtle hint went right over his head. He just smiled, his handsome, almond-shaped eyes holding a charm that could bewitch anyone. A blind man, it turned out. “My true love is right here with me,” he said. “You should save that toast for yourself.” But thinking back, wasn’t I just as blind? Teddy was willing to break from his family for that actress. And my own heart had been shattered into a million pieces by Max. 5 The wine went down easy, but the delayed punch of the cabernet was brutal. Before I knew it, I was completely wasted. I was clinging to Teddy, a mess of tears and laughter, cursing Max one minute and myself the next. Teddy gently pushed me away, his tone teasing. “If Max saw you holding onto another man like this,” he drawled, “he wouldn’t take you back even if you begged him on your knees.” The memory of the past seven years, of me always being the one to swallow my pride and beg for reconciliation, flooded back. Fueled by alcohol, all my pent-up frustrations came pouring out. “This time, I’m the one who doesn’t want him!” I slurred. “Even if he gets on his knees and begs me, I’m not going back!” “You mean it?” Teddy’s voice was intense, his gaze burning. Sprawled on the sofa, I didn’t see the galaxy of stars glittering in his eyes. I just mumbled, “As real as it gets.” In the hazy space between dream and reality, I felt a warm pressure on my lips. An electric tingle traced paths across my skin. Instinctively, I responded to the searing heat, giving in to the passion. When my mind finally cleared, it was noon the next day. My entire body ached, as if it had been run over by a truck. My eyes fell to the floor, where a tangled mess of clothes lay discarded. Then I saw him. Lying next to me, bare-chested, was Teddy. His long lashes rested on his cheeks, deep in sleep. A few faint, rosy marks—kisses—were scattered across his muscular chest. Flashes of the night before… My mind exploded. Did I just have a one-night stand with Teddy?! Whatever his girlfriend was doing last night, they were still together. What did that make me? How was I any different from her? If word got out that I’d broken them up, the gossip would bury me alive. Holding my breath, I carefully lifted Teddy’s arm from around my waist. Like a thief, I tiptoed around, gathered my clothes, grabbed my phone, and fled my own apartment. I didn’t feel safe until I was speeding towards my office, the gas pedal pressed to the floor. I just had to hope that when Teddy woke up, he’d be just as eager as I was to forget last night’s insane mistake. “Ms. Lin, Mr. Cole is waiting for you in your office,” my assistant whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “He was… really angry earlier.” She must have caught the brunt of his temper. I walked in. Max was leaning against my desk, arms crossed. My suitcase was on the floor beside him. He saw me and his face hardened into a scowl. “Cara, you’ve got some nerve, blocking my number!” He gestured to the suitcase. “Here’s the rest of your stuff. You can move back in once Ava’s feeling better.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “The engagement is off. Why would we need each other’s numbers? Please do me a favor and block me too.” Max’s eyes flashed with surprise, then irritation. “What kind of game are you playing now? I’ve told you before, you can’t compete with Ava. In my life, she will always come first.” “If you want to be Mrs. Cole, you’ll learn to behave.” 6 I couldn’t take it anymore. “Mr. Cole, was I not clear enough?” “We. Called. Off. The. Engagement.” “Who you put first has absolutely nothing to do with me. Do you understand?” I enunciated each word of that last sentence. He froze, his gaze locking with my cold, indifferent stare. For the first time, Max lost his composure in front of me, his mask of superiority crumbling. A vein pulsed in his neck as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “Cara! If you think I have the time or patience for your little push-and-pull games, you’re dead wrong! This is your one and only chance. Either you play along and wait until Ava’s better for our engagement, or you get out of my life and never show your face again!” Without a word, I bent down and picked up the files he had angrily swept to the floor. “Just as long as you stop showing up here and throwing tantrums, Mr. Cole, I can guarantee you’ll never see me again.” He was so used to me fawning over him that my blatant disregard was more than he could handle. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t come crawling back to me like a pathetic dog,” he snarled. “I’m sick of watching you beg!” His words were like a thousand tiny needles piercing my heart. Even though the love was gone, seven years of my life, a heart offered so freely, being trampled on like this… it still hurt. But I didn’t have much time to wallow. My phone began to explode with calls and texts from Teddy. “So you just eat and run? Classy.” “Is this how you treat your lead investor?” “Was I that bad last night?” “You have three minutes to answer your phone, or I’m coming to your office.” My heart hammered against my ribs as I read his messages. I was terrified. In a panic, I did the only thing I could think of: I turned off my phone. Last night wasn’t my idea, but… I hadn’t exactly said no. Teddy was reckless. He feared nothing and no one. I wasn’t like him. My business was just taking off; I had too much to lose. I couldn’t fight him, so I had to run. I booked the next flight to Paris. The visa was originally for my honeymoon with Max. Now, I was using it to escape a different kind of entanglement.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384579”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My looks have always been more of a curse than a blessing. Drop-dead gorgeous, with a figure to match, I was the target of every vicious, slut-shaming rumor from middle school all the way through high school. So, when I got to college, I decided to build a fortress around myself. I drained my savings to buy designer clothes and luxury accessories, crafting the perfect illusion of an untouchable heiress. But then, I started seeing the Comments. 【Ugh, this side character is so fake! Can the main character please show up and expose her already?】 【Lmao, just wait. She’s only here to get her ass handed to her.】 【Am I the only one who feels bad for her? Here, have a lollipop. /donates one lollipop/】 I blinked, and a solid gold lollipop materialized in my pocket. Wait a second. I could get rich from these donations, couldn’t I? If they wanted a main character, I’d just have to become the one they adored. 1 One week into Freshman Orientation, everyone was starting to find their footing. That’s when I overheard two guys talking trash about me. “Seraphina Vance has an insane body. What would it take to get in her pants?” “Dream on. She looks all innocent, but I bet her price is steep.” “You’re missing the point. I heard she’s from some backwater town in the middle of nowhere. Place is full of broke people. God knows how she scraped her way into Aethelgard University.” “Yeah, and that long hair of hers? It’s a leash for some rich old man to hold onto.” “She acts like she’s loaded, but who knows where that money really comes from.” I stepped out from around the corner, a sweet smile plastered on my face. “I recorded that whole conversation,” I said, my voice dripping with honey. “Venmo me two hundred bucks each, right now. Or I can just take this to the Dean and sue you both for slander.” I played back the recording. Their faces went pale. They couldn’t even look me in the eye as they scanned my QR code and scurried away like rats. I glanced at my bank balance. Enough to keep the ‘rich girl’ act going for a few more days. That’s right. It was all an act. In my last life, it was just me and my grandma against the world. My looks made me a constant target. With no parents or relatives to defend me, I had to swallow every bit of harassment. One creep shoved a dollar bill down my shirt, asking if that “fortune” was enough to buy a night with me. Another offered me a piece of bread in exchange for a grope. Those are the memories that haunt my darkest nights. Getting into a top university in Sterling City didn’t end the nightmare. In this city where every inch of ground costs a fortune, I was a fish out of water. I came from the rural heartland, a place so poor and forgotten that no one here could possibly understand the mountains I had to climb just to stand at the gates of Aethelgard. The locals were clique-y, and the class hierarchy on campus was brutal. The moderately wealthy guys saw me as a game, a trophy to be won. They took pictures of me, and when one ended up in the “Campus Queen” poll, they laughed themselves sick. A “hick from the sticks” like me, competing for the crown? They placed bets on how much it would cost to get me into bed. The harassment was relentless. It ended with me being kidnapped, dragged into the city’s dark underbelly, and broken until I died. All I ever wanted was to live. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before my first day of college. And I knew the truth. My world was a novel, and I was the disposable side character, a mere stepping stone to highlight the heroine’s grace and nobility. This second chance was a miracle. This time, I was flipping the script. After Grandma passed, I sold our little house and moved to Sterling City. Now, just one week in, my wallet was nearly empty. As I was staring at the last twenty dollars in my account, wondering how I’d survive the rest of the month, I heard those guys spreading their poison. In my last life, I would have confronted them, but without proof, I would have just been smeared with more lies. This time, armed with my carefully constructed heiress persona, I had the confidence to fight back. Maybe if you pretend long enough, you start to believe it yourself. I scanned the Comments as I walked back to my dorm. 【Damn, she’s gorgeous. It’ll make it so much more satisfying when she gets taken down a peg!】 【This poser, with her Chanel knock-offs from Poshmark, actually has people fooled.】 【Doesn’t anyone else think she’s kind of tragic?】 【Tragic? Please! Later on, she bullies our girl, steals her Campus Queen title, and tries to seduce the male lead. She’s a total villain!】 … Ever since I was reborn, I could see them. These floating lines of text were like spoilers for my own life, helping me dodge one disaster after another. Back in the dorm, my roommates were gushing over the new collections from Fashion Week. “Seraphina, see anything you like?” Courteney asked, scrolling through her tablet. I shook my head, affecting an air of casual critique. “The fall collections are a bit too loud for my taste. Especially that Autumn Hue set by Alin. The traditional elements are too much. Not really my style.” I continued, “I did like the Parisian chic suit from ChoLI, but I can’t stand wearing boots in this weather, so that’s a pass. By the way, have you guys seen the new Hermès bag? It would look amazing on you, Jessica. That subtle pattern is totally your vibe. You should get one.” I was washing my face, my voice nonchalant. Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Wow! Seraphina, how did you know I was eyeing that one? I already had the boutique send it over. It’s the first one in Sterling City!” “It was made for you,” I smiled. That bag cost twenty-five thousand dollars. For me and Grandma, that kind of money could have lasted from elementary school through high school, with plenty to spare. For them, it was just a purse. The old me would have been crippled by insecurity. The new me just thought, twenty-five grand, no big deal. You have to project that kind of indifference to pull off the role. I’d practically memorized every luxury catalog in existence. 【Is she really pulling this off? Shouldn’t she be totally out of her depth with these roommates?】 【The higher she builds herself up, the harder she’ll fall when our girl exposes her. It’s gonna be epic.】 【Wait, shouldn’t they hate her? These three are notorious for looking down on anyone not from the city. Why aren’t they freezing her out?】 … I looked at my reflection. Last time, that’s exactly what happened. They couldn’t stand sharing a room with me, so they posted my picture online, turning me into a target for every pervert on campus. They were princesses who thought an iced Americano with the wrong milk was a hardship. I couldn’t beat them head-on, so I chose to blend in. My diploma from Aethelgard was my ticket to a real life, and I wouldn’t let anything get in my way. But first, I needed to make some money. Scrolling through TikTok, I saw a lot of “thirst trap” creators. They made a killing without even showing their faces. It was tempting, but not exactly something I could film in the dorm— “OMG, you guys! There’s a new post on the campus forum! They’re running a poll for ‘Freshman Campus Queen’! Are you guys gonna enter?” Jessica shook her head. “Nah, this face has had too much work done. I’d just get roasted. I’m happy looking pretty for myself.” Maddie sighed, patting her stomach. “Same here. I gained weight on my trip to the Maldives, and I got so tan.” “Hey! I think Seraphina should do it!” Courteney threw an arm around my shoulder. “Go win it for our dorm, Seraphina! Bring home the crown!” “I’ll pass. Not really interested,” I said with a practiced smile. Last time, they entered a candid photo of me without my permission. Even with just a picture of my side profile, I placed second, completely overshadowing the story’s real heroine. That’s what put a target on my back. It made my already difficult life impossible. Jessica scoffed at the screen. “The first prize is only fifteen hundred dollars? That’s pathetic. Who are they trying to impress?” Courteney squinted at the prize list. “But, the winner gets to host the Freshman Gala, which means extra academic credits! And an automatic spot in the Student Council.” A spark ignited in my mind. The Student Council… got paid. “Extra credits make it easier to skip class, right?” I asked, looking at the three of them. “Totally.” “Then count me in.” I swept my long hair behind my shoulder. “I just launched a new company, and things are pretty hectic. I might need to take a lot of days off.” When you’re out in the world, you create your own identity. “Oh, then it’s perfect for you!” Courteney said, her eyes wide with envy. “My dad won’t even let me near our company’s affairs. I wish I could start my own.” I struck a pose by the window. “Alright, ladies, get your phones out. Your girl is about to bring a crown home to this dorm.” Courteney eagerly snapped photos. A simple white dress, a cascade of dark hair, a flawless face, and a figure that was the perfect combination of delicate and curvaceous. My roommates looked on with pure admiration, not a trace of jealousy or contempt in sight. 【She actually did it? The facade is working?】 【Damn, can I do this too?! I just started college, is it too late to reinvent myself?】 【You’d need her guts, her resilience, and let’s be real, her face.】 【Okay, but she really is stunning…】 【I think I’m in love. [Donates one Heart to Seraphina Vance]】 … I was surprised to see that the Comments could send gifts. As I stood there, stunned, I felt something solid appear in my hand. It was a perfect, heart-shaped piece of solid gold. By the time they finished taking pictures and showed them to me, they noticed the golden heart in my palm. “Whoa! That little heart is so pretty! Is that real gold?” Jessica stared. “Where did you get that custom-made? It’s gorgeous.” I had snapped back to reality. The commenters had no idea their virtual gifts were becoming real. A slow smile spread across my face. I’d thought of them as a noisy, disembodied Greek chorus, but now I saw them for what they were: my personal treasure chests. I knew how to play this game now. Play the rich girl for my roommates, and the poor, pitiful victim for the Comments. With that strategy, I could actually change my fate. “Let me see!” Maddie’s eyes were glued to the heart. “Seraphina, can I please buy this from you? It’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen!” Pretending to be absorbed in the photos, I replied, “Oh, this? My mom sent it to me. I almost forgot I had it. If you like it that much, you can have it.” All three of them stared at me, their jaws on the floor. It was solid gold! With the current price of gold, that little thing was worth at least fifteen grand, and I was just offering to give it away like it was nothing. “No way! I couldn’t just take it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll pay you. Just ask your mom where she got it made, and I’ll order one. I’m obsessed with this.” This was exactly what I wanted. I knew they wouldn’t accept a gift this expensive from someone they’d only known for a week. She instantly sent me $15,000. “Let’s just call it that. I know you’re not sweating the small stuff. Mwah!” She gave me a playful hug. I smiled indulgently. “Alright, alright.” If I’d taken it to a pawn shop, I would’ve had to haggle and would have gotten less for it. This was instant cash! Fifteen. Thousand. Dollars. I hereby declare the commenters my true family! I’ll never get annoyed at their insults again. My casual generosity completely won them over. After I officially entered the Campus Queen poll, we all decided to head out for the afternoon. Jessica had her license, so she drove us to the Sterling Galleria in her massive G-Wagon. With money in my account, my confidence soared. I shopped with them, buying a few new outfits and some high-end skincare. And I noticed something—as soon as I left campus, the Comments vanished. They had no idea I was out here blowing cash. “I have to head home,” Jessica said apologetically. “My grandma’s not feeling well.” “And I need to make a withdrawal,” Courteney added with a shrug. “A friend’s birthday is coming up, and I have no idea what to get her. A fat stack of cash is always a good gift.” Maddie looked at me. “I gotta go too. My brother just got back from Europe.” “I guess you’ll have to go back to campus by yourself, then.” The looks of genuine regret in their eyes were something I had never seen in my previous life. “It’s fine, I have to stop by my office anyway,” I lied smoothly. “See you guys back at the dorm.” “Okay!” After saying our goodbyes, I called a black car service to take me back to school. As we drove through the gates, I remembered my own arrival. I had rented a Rolls-Royce, complete with a driver and a “butler” to handle my registration. That’s how I had cemented my persona from day one. 2 Vehicles weren’t allowed past the main quad, so I got out near the athletic fields. Juggling shopping bags, I started the walk back to my dorm. The early autumn air was buzzing with energy. A soccer game was in full swing on one field, while the basketball courts were packed with guys showing off. As I passed by the courts, I heard a shout: “Watch out—!” I turned just in time to see a basketball hurtling toward my face. I had no time to react. Just as it was about to hit me, a figure leaped in front of me, slapping the ball away. The force sent us both tumbling to the ground. Before I could even process what happened, the Comments went absolutely ballistic. 【WTF?! No, no, no! This is the main couple’s fated basketball meet-cute! What is the side character doing here?!】 【She’s supposed to be crying in her dorm room right now! Why is she on the basketball court!】 【Get away from him! Don’t you dare steal our girl’s man! The villain arc is starting! NOOOO!】 … I looked up into a pair of stunningly handsome eyes. The guy was blushing to the tips of his ears. I tried to scramble up, but I was tangled with him. My body was pressed against his chest. “Sorry—” He seemed… off. I knew exactly what was happening under the surface and quickly pushed myself off him, smoothing down my dress. My white dress was now smudged with dirt, a glaring stain on the fabric. He got to his feet. “Are you—are you okay?” His eyes were fixed on me. “I should be the one saying sorry. They were aiming for me.” I glanced at my scraped knee. Then at him. His elbow and ankle were both bleeding. “I’m fine. But what about you? Can you walk?” “It… hurts a little,” he said, his gaze flickering away. “Ethan! You okay, man?!” A group of guys from the court rushed over. “I’m fine… Actually, not fine.” He limped dramatically, his face contorted in pain as he looked at me. “I think I need to go to the infirmary. You should come too. Your knee is bleeding.” His friends exchanged knowing glances. One of them piped up, “Hey, uh, freshman? Could you help him get to the clinic?” Oh, for crying out loud. This guy was putting on a show. I’d seen him take harder falls on the court a dozen times without a scratch. “I have somewhere to be,” I said flatly. The Comments were already accusing me of seducing their precious male lead. I wanted nothing to do with him. These people, my new benefactors, clearly had the wrong idea about me. I wasn’t interested in this guy, no matter how handsome or rich he obviously was—judging by the watch on his wrist. All I wanted was to graduate in peace. Getting close to the main characters was a recipe for disaster. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face before he quickly masked it with a smile. “But you got hurt because of me. The least I can do is make sure you’re taken care of…” “Yeah, freshman,” another one of his friends chimed in, already grabbing my shopping bags. “We’ll take these to your dorm. You just take Ethan to the clinic. You don’t want that to scar.” Seeing my bags being carried off, I sighed in defeat. “I’m in Block A, room 208. Thanks, I guess.” “No problem! We got you!” They practically sprinted away. The guy beside me was hobbling so badly he nearly fell over several times. I wanted to help him, but the stream of hate in the Comments kept me frozen. I pretended not to notice. 【What is the male lead doing?! Isn’t he supposed to be disgusted by physical contact with women?! Why is he totally fine with the side character?】 【OMG SERAPHINA YOU SLUT! LEAVE ETHAN REED ALONE!】 【ETHAN, NO! Your soulmate isn’t her! She’s a fake and doesn’t deserve you!】 【Are there any sane people in this chat? Is she throwing herself at him? It looks like she’s being forced into this. If you ask me, the male lead is the one with the problem. In real life, if you threw a ball that almost hit me, you’d be getting a fist to the face!】 … I knew this was my chance. In the infirmary, as the nurse cleaned my wound, I let my eyes well up with tears. My body trembled slightly, but I didn’t make a sound. Ethan watched me, his face a mask of guilt. “I’m really sorry.” I looked up at him and forced a smile. “It’s okay, senior. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” 【Aww, my poor baby. This was totally not her fault!】 【Is the male lead just falling for her looks? Seraphina is prettier than the heroine, but she’s a total fraud! She’s so dishonest!】 【Does she want to be a fraud? If she didn’t pretend, everyone would bully and ignore her. The male lead wouldn’t have even noticed she existed.】 【A fake is a fake. Why pretend to be rich? With a face like that, she should just sell herself! Trying to steal the heroine’s man is just pathetic!】 【I can’t take this. I’m starting to feel for her. Anyone who insults her again, I’m just going to keep donating! /donates one Bunny Kiss/】 … Bless the kind souls of the world. I felt a small, heavy object appear in my hand. A solid gold bunny. I discreetly slipped it into my purse. Gold. It felt like it was worth a fortune. As we left the infirmary, Ethan started, “Hey, so, I…” “It’s fine. I’m going to head back now.” I gave him a polite smile. “Bye, senior.” I walked away quickly. He stood there, staring at his own hand, his expression darkening. “I actually didn’t mind it… What the hell is wrong with me?” 3 I got back to the dorm before my roommates. My knee throbbed, so yoga was out. I lay in bed, scrolling through videos, and stumbled deeper into the world of “thirst trap” content. The women were bold, confident, and unapologetically sexy. It was like discovering a new continent. A daring idea began to form in my mind. Maybe this was a new path for me. I already had a TikTok account with about seven hundred followers. I’d posted a dozen videos trying to teach people math and English shortcuts, but they had barely any views. I started studying what the popular creators were doing, and by the time my roommates returned, I was lost in my research. “If it weren’t for Orientation, I would never live on campus. It’s so boring!” “College is way better than high school. At least we can get food delivered.” “My high school was like a prison. I was so skinny back then.” … They barged in, laden with bags of food, and immediately started sharing with me. “Seraphina, you have to try these mochi. My family’s housekeeper stood in line for over an hour to get them.” “These lotus paste buns are amazing too.” “And I got you a bubble tea from Li’s Handcrafted. Their tea doesn’t give you insomnia!” I sat up, smiling. “Thanks, you guys.” I never got this treatment in my past life. Back then, they were afraid I’d secretly lick their leftovers. The concept of class was etched into their bones; if you didn’t have money, you were nothing more than a servant. “Whoa! Did your mom send you this bunny?!” Maddie spotted my new golden treasure. She had a thing for gold, and her eyes were practically sparkling. “God, I love gold so much!” “Oh my god, that is the cutest thing! The craftsmanship is incredible!” “That must have cost a fortune. Seraphina, your mom is the best.” They looked at me with envy. I just smiled. “Yeah. I told her I gave the heart to a good friend, so she sent this over.” Jessica added, “Wow, your mom is so cool. You should keep that somewhere safe. This campus is full of broke losers who steal things.” My hands clenched, but my smile didn’t waver. “I will.” In my past life, whenever something of theirs went missing, I was the first person they accused. Even now, we could never be true friends. But I couldn’t afford to make enemies of them. I just had to focus on my own life, on surviving… That was Grandma’s greatest wish for me. My life has been a series of misfortunes. Abandoned by my parents, harassed by disgusting men, so poor I had to dig through trash cans for food. The moment I had a chance to escape that filth, I never looked back. I brought Grandma’s ashes with me to Sterling City. Right now, she’s in a storage unit at a funeral home because I can’t afford to bury her. Grandma, this city is wonderful and terrible all at once. But the good news is, I’m still alive. “Seraphina, what happened to your leg?” Maddie asked, her attention shifting from the golden bunny to the bandage on my knee. “I was walking past the athletic fields earlier, and some guys playing basketball hit me with the ball.” I conveniently left out the part about the hero who saved me. “What? Was it Ethan Reed and his friends?” “…” Was he that famous? “You don’t know who Ethan Reed is?” Maddie was ready for the gossip. “He’s the president of the Student Council! His family is loaded. Last semester, some guy pissed him off, and Ethan kicked him. He paid the guy a hundred thousand dollars in compensation.” “I heard about that! After that, a bunch of people started trying to pick fights with him, hoping to get a payout.” “Haha, too bad he rarely loses his temper. I heard he’s amazing at basketball!” “Totally!” They launched into a discussion about cute guys on campus, but my mind was elsewhere. I was plotting my first thirst-trap video. If I had the body, I might as well use it to make a living. It’s not like I had a choice. Besides, I wasn’t selling myself to anyone. It was just videos. And it was a way to make money. A way to stay alive. 4 The next day of Orientation started with a morning run. My three roommates were still asleep. Their motto: “I bet the instructor won’t take attendance!” And usually, they’d be right. The field was massive, filled with students from every department. The instructors just did a quick headcount. But today, of all days, was different. They were taking attendance. Members of the Student Council were going down the lines, checking off names. I messaged the group chat, but no one replied. Just as my turn was coming up, my phone buzzed. It was Maddie. [OMG GORGEOUS PLS SIGN ME IN! I WILL BE YOUR LOYAL SERVANT FOR LIFE!] [SAME HERE! PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU. I HEARD IF YOU’RE ABSENT YOU LOSE ACADEMIC CREDITS! IF I LOSE CREDITS MY DAD WILL CUT ME OFF!] [Add my name too, please please please!] … I thought to myself, instead of getting revenge on them, why not use them? Climbing the social ladder on the shoulders of these princesses was a much better strategy than burning bridges. But then I heard the student council member up ahead yell, “No signing in for others!” I typed back: Sorry guys, I tried. When I got to the front of the line, I realized the person taking names was Ethan Reed. He saw me, and the senior next to him gave me a sly grin. “Well, well, look who it is.” Ethan shot his friend, Leo, a glare. He looked at me, his voice soft. “Is your knee feeling better?” A wave of “Ooohs” rippled through the students around us. The implication was huge. My expression hardened. I grabbed the pen to sign my name. Seeing my anger, Ethan panicked. “What are you all whispering about? She got hit by my basketball yesterday and fell!” “Anyone who thinks otherwise, I’ll personally shove your head in a toilet!” he threatened, his voice laced with ice. I used the commotion to quickly scribble down four names. He stared at the paper. “…” I dropped the pen and walked away. He rubbed his nose, shot another death glare at the gawking crowd, and tossed the clipboard to Leo before jogging after me. “Seraphina! I didn’t mean for that to happen…” he said, falling into step beside me as we ran. “Don’t be mad. Let me buy you dinner, okay?” I ignored him, but the Comments were already in a frenzy. 【WTF! MALE LEAD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! You wouldn’t even let the main character sign in for her friends, but you let this fake get away with it?!】 【Why does she get special treatment! When is someone going to expose her?! I CAN’T STAND IT!】 【Wasn’t he the one who chased after her? Why is everyone blaming her again? This simp-filled world is exhausting.】 【The real heroine is right behind him! She worked so hard to get into this school for him! Are you really going to betray her like this, Ethan?!】 【Ugh, that manipulative bitch! Someone needs to slap her! Get away from my man!】 【I said it before and I’ll say it again. Anyone who insults my girl Seraphina gets a donation from me! /donates one Rose Bouquet/】 … I felt my pocket grow heavier. Inside was a delicate, solid gold rose bouquet. I loved this commenter so much. So, readers really could fall in love with fictional characters. “Seraphina…” Ethan was still trying to talk to me. I shot him a look. “It’s fine. But let’s just keep our distance from now on, senior. Thank you.” With that, I picked up my pace, running into the morning sun. Ethan started to follow, but I broke into a full sprint. It wasn’t until a group of girls intercepted him that I finally had a chance to catch my breath. My roommates had managed to sneak into the formation. “I signed you in,” I told them, a mischievous grin on my face. “OMG, you’re our savior! I can’t believe the Student Council was taking attendance today. They’re usually such hard-asses!” “How did you do it?” “It wasn’t easy,” I said, not wanting them to think it was a simple favor. “But I managed.” “Oh, thank you, thank you, Seraphina!” After that, we were closer than ever. 5 At lunch in the dining hall, Courteney showed me the poll results on her phone. I was in second place. No surprise there. The heroine, of course, was number one. I glanced over at a table not far from ours, where four girls were sitting. The one in the middle was the heroine herself—Brianna Weston. She was the daughter of one of Sterling City’s wealthiest families, a true blue-blood. She’d met Ethan at a gala, decided he was the one, and moved heaven and earth to get into his university. Originally, she was the one who was supposed to be hit by the basketball. That encounter would have deepened their connection, and from there, their romance would have blossomed. But that day, I had taken a private car and gotten back early, putting me in the right place at the wrong time. Brianna had been walking just a few steps behind me. All of this I learned from the Comments. Not that it mattered to me. What I didn’t know was that as I was watching them, they were watching me. “That girl’s dress… it looks a lot like the one I sold on Poshmark,” Scarlett muttered, her eyes narrowed on me. “What? You’re imagining things,” Brianna said, snapping out of a daze. “I know who she is. Her family has some money, just not from around here. She made a big show of her arrival, buying the whole class bubble tea from Li’s on the first day. Someone like that isn’t buying second-hand clothes.” “I’m serious. The one I sold had a tiny faded spot on the shoulder because my maid used the wrong detergent. I loved that dress, so I bought a new one and sold the old one.” “The buyer also bought a matching bag…” Scarlett frowned. “I remember the username, what was it again?” She opened the app on her phone and her eyes went wide. She looked at Brianna in shock. “The recipient was just ‘Ms. Vance’! It has to be her, Seraphina Vance! How many people have that last name?”

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Years after graduation, Caleb Howard was a name everyone knew. At our high school reunion, someone decided to play matchmaker, nudging him towards me. “Caleb, my man! Remember the little shadow who used to follow you around everywhere?” he slurred, reeking of whiskey. “You’re single, she’s single… why not give it another shot?” Caleb slowly raised his left hand, a humorless smile on his lips. “I’m married.” The table erupted in shocked whispers. Only I stayed silent, my head bowed. I couldn’t understand why he was still wearing that ring. We’d been divorced for three years. 1 The reunion was in full swing when the class president burst through the door, his voice booming with excitement. “Everybody, look who’s here!” I followed their collective gaze, and my breath caught in my throat. It was Caleb. Three years had carved a new maturity into his features. As he greeted old classmates, the corners of his eyes crinkled into a subtle, charming arc. He carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man who knew his own worth. I’d heard he was recently named the city’s “Outstanding Young Entrepreneur of the Year,” already a multimillionaire before thirty. While the others swarmed him with handshakes and back-pats, I ducked my head and pretended to be absorbed in my phone. From the corner of my eye, I saw him take the empty seat diagonally across from me. His gaze swept over me without a flicker of recognition, not lingering for even a second. But I noticed something he didn’t. Against the dark fabric of his trench coat, I saw a dusting of crystalline flakes clinging to the shoulders. It was snowing outside. My phone buzzed again. The woman next to me, a former classmate whose voice had always been two decibels too loud, leaned in with a smirk. “Carol, is that your boyfriend? Someone’s keeping you on a tight leash.” My eyes instinctively shot toward Caleb. He was deep in conversation, his expression calm, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. I forced a smile and shook my head. “No, it’s just my mom. She’s reminding me about the blind date she set up for next week.” We were all in our late twenties. Some were married with kids, but most, like me, were fielding the relentless pressure from our parents. A few women at the table groaned in solidarity. “I swear, my mom’s in such a rush, you’d think she was breeding prize livestock,” one of them griped. “As long as it’s the right gender and looks healthy, nothing else matters.” “You’ve gotta be careful, Carol,” another warned. “All the good ones get snapped up before they even hit the open market.” Just then, a burly guy, flushed with alcohol, slammed his hand on the table and staggered to his feet. “Caleb, my man!” he bellowed. “Remember the little shadow who used to follow you around everywhere?” Caleb said nothing. The guy, assuming Caleb’s memory needed jogging, pressed on. “You know! The one who spammed you with, like, a dozen love letters and confessed to you in front of the whole damn school at the graduation party—Carol Vance!” It took me a moment to recognize him under the extra weight. It was Big Mike, our old football captain. His favorite pastime back then was stirring up drama, and apparently, some things never change. “You’re single, she’s single… why not give it another shot?” In an instant, every curious, gossiping eye in the room swiveled between Caleb and me. A decade hadn’t been long enough for them to forget. They were all waiting, hungry for the next chapter of the story that had been the backdrop to their own teenage years, no matter how it ended. Caleb finally turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. Our eyes met. He slowly raised his left hand, a humorless smile playing on his lips. “I’m married.” The words dropped like a bomb. “What? Caleb, when did you get married? You didn’t even invite us to the wedding!” “Seriously, man, you kept that under wraps! We haven’t even seen a picture of the lucky lady on your feed!” Only I stayed silent, my head bowed, staring into my lap. I couldn’t understand it. Why was Caleb Howard still wearing that wedding ring? Except… we’d been divorced for three years. 2 Looking back, our divorce felt inevitable. There was no proposal, no wedding ceremony, not even a single wedding photo. The year we graduated from college, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. I had just visited her in the hospital, my arms aching from a heavy basket of fruit. As I was leaving, Caleb grabbed my hand in the sterile hallway. “Carol,” he said, his voice flat. “Let’s get married.” The words, completely out of the blue, were like a winning lottery ticket dropping into my lap. I was stunned. Terrified he might change his mind, I blurted out “yes” before he could take it back. We got our marriage license on a perfectly ordinary weekend. City Hall was quiet. The clerk motioned for us to get closer for the photo. “Okay, groom, a little closer to the bride. And groom, lose the poker face. Try to smile like she is. Good.” That small, red-backed photo on our marriage certificate became our first picture together. After a brief, sterile ceremony, I’d skipped the role of girlfriend and gone straight to being Caleb’s wife. He was in the grueling start-up phase of his company back then. To avoid a long-distance relationship, I turned down a good teaching position at a private school out of state. On his advice, I started studying for the state teaching certification exams instead. He must have known he was asking a lot of me. When we went to buy rings, he promised we’d have a real wedding once things settled down. Wanting to be the supportive, understanding wife, I picked out a simple, unadorned band that didn’t cost much. It was never about the money; it was about his heart. After we were married, we rented a tiny 400-square-foot apartment. It was small, but our life was sweet. We were like any other young couple, holding hands at the grocery store on weekends, losing ourselves in each other’s arms late at night. A year later, his mother passed away. He held me and cried for the first time. “Carol,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “I don’t have a family anymore.” His parents had divorced when he was young, and his mother, fiercely ambitious for him, had always been controlling. People saw Caleb as cold and distant, but I knew that deep down, he was just a man desperate to be loved. I held him tighter, murmuring again and again, “You have me. I’m your family now.” To cope with his grief, Caleb threw himself into his work, spending every waking hour at the office. The long hours and irregular meals took their toll, and soon he was hospitalized with a stomach ulcer. From that day on, I started bringing him home-cooked meals at his office. And that was the first time I met Vivian Chen. 3 By then, Caleb’s company was gaining traction. He’d recruited several talented alumni from our university, and Vivian, a brilliant programmer who had been a few years ahead of him, was his star hire. She had a decorated history of winning software design competitions and a wealth of project experience. Caleb was immensely grateful that she’d left a lucrative job at a tech giant to join his fledgling team. I stood outside his glass-walled office with the insulated lunchbox, listening in silence as they volleyed terms and concepts I couldn’t begin to grasp. The energy between them was electric. Finally, their intense discussion ended. They’d reached a breakthrough. “That’s it,” Caleb said, his eyes shining with an admiration I’d never seen him direct at me. “We’ll go with your plan.” A hollow feeling opened in my chest. As I stood there, frozen, Vivian noticed me and gestured with her chin. “Caleb, your girlfriend’s here.” He glanced over, his expression shifting. “She’s my wife,” he corrected. “Oh, right. My mistake,” she said with an easy laugh. “You just don’t meet many guys who get married so young.” I stepped inside, feeling clumsy and out of place as I set down the lunchbox. I was an intruder in their world. As I turned to leave, I heard Vivian ask, “Your wife doesn’t seem like she’s in tech. What does she do?” “She’s a teacher.” Caleb’s tone was clipped, as if he was reluctant to discuss his personal life at work. But Vivian was persistent. “I have friends who teach at the university. Maybe they know each other. Is she a high school teacher? Or college?” “She’s still studying for her certification.” “Oh, that explains it,” Vivian said, her voice bright and cheerful. “No wonder she has time to bring you lunch. Don’t worry, those exams are a breeze these days…” But what was a “breeze” for someone like Vivian was a hurricane for me. I failed. My old college advisor, hearing I was still unemployed, called with a job opportunity. But it was out of state, and Caleb was firmly against it. He picked up one of my discarded test-prep books, flipping through the pages. He chuckled, trying to be encouraging. “Carol, this stuff isn’t that hard. Just focus a little more next time, and you’ll nail it.” I bit my lip, the words catching in my throat. He seemed to have forgotten that I wasn’t born with a mind like his. Math problems that others understood after one try took me ten. My only real talent was my persistence—especially when it came to him. He was the genius, the valedictorian who aced every exam. I was the art student who scraped by at the bottom of the class. I had only gotten into the state college next to his prestigious university by spending countless agonizing hours in the art studio, practicing until my fingers were raw and blistered. When he said “it isn’t that hard,” whose standard was he using? It was painfully obvious. 4 The dreams started. Night after night, I saw him standing beside someone else. Not me, but Vivian—someone who was his intellectual equal, who understood him in a way I never could. In my dreams, I was always running, but I could never catch up to him. I’d call his name, but he would never turn around… He must have noticed my spiraling mood. One night, after we made love, he pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me. “Honey,” he whispered, “work has slowed down a bit. How about we finally plan that wedding?” He traced a line down my spine. “I can take a couple of weeks off. We can go on a proper honeymoon, get away from everything. How does that sound?” Just like that, with a few soft words, he reeled me back in. But planning a wedding was far more complicated than I’d ever imagined. Even with a wedding planner, I obsessed over every detail: the venue, the menu, the flowers. This was my one and only wedding, and it had to be perfect. Just designing the wedding favor boxes had me pulling all-nighters, pouring more of myself into it than I ever did for my final thesis. That evening, I excitedly showed Caleb the final designs. He was on his laptop, but he glanced up for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, looks good. They’re fine.” I hesitated, chewing on my lip. “I can’t decide between these two. This one holds more, but this one is more elegant… what do you think?” He was typing a message to someone, a faint smile on his face, but he remembered to answer me. “Either one is fine.” Suddenly, I had nothing left to say. Sensing my silence, he closed his laptop and pulled me onto his lap. “Honey, what were you saying?” I forced a smile. “It’s nothing. Go on, finish your work. It’s not important.” A week before the wedding, I dropped off his lunch as usual. I had just gotten home when the wedding planner called. There was a last-minute change to a crucial part of the ceremony, and I had to choose between two options immediately. I couldn’t decide, and Caleb wasn’t answering his phone. Panicked, I rushed back to his office. But as I reached the entrance, I froze. I saw Caleb, his face a mask of indifference, scraping the meal I’d made for him into the trash. Vivian was leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed. “You really don’t know how good you have it, do you?” she teased. “Your wife treats you like a king, and you’re still not satisfied?” Her words were playful, but his reply was dead serious. “Do you think I wanted to waste it? We got so caught up in the project review that it was ice-cold by the time I got to it.” “Alright, alright, I get it,” she said, laughing. “My treat today. What are you in the mood for?” Caleb set the now-empty lunchbox aside, his movements clean and practiced, as if he’d done this a thousand times before. He sighed, a strange look on his face. “Sometimes… she’s just too good to me. It’s so much that it… it feels like pressure.” In that moment, the sour, rotten stench of discarded food seemed to rise from the bin. A wave of nausea hit me, and I fled. 5 Caleb called me again and again. Before, I would have answered on the first ring, no matter where I was or what I was doing. This time, I turned my phone off. When he finally rushed home, he found me sitting on the living room floor, my eyes swollen and red, surrounded by a mountain of shredded paper. They were the love letters I’d written him in high school. Eighteen of them. Each one filled with every ounce of love I had. He recognized the scraps immediately and lunged forward to stop me. “Carol, what are you doing?!” he demanded. “And what the hell was that call from the wedding planner? Why did you cancel everything?” I fought him off, my strength fueled by a cold rage. I snatched up one of the few intact letters and, looking him straight in the eye, ripped it in two. A perfect metaphor for us—a relationship that looked whole but was already torn to shreds. “Maybe, in your eyes, I’m no different than a stray cat,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “You pet me when you’re in the mood, and when you’re not, you just push me away. You never bothered to put any real thought into me. What I think doesn’t matter. What I feel doesn’t matter.” My voice rose with every word. “Caleb, do you see marrying me as some kind of noble charity on your part?” His hand clamped around my wrist, his grip like iron. “Is this about Vivian? Someone saw you at the office this afternoon…” I just shook my head. It wasn’t about Vivian. If it wasn’t her, it would have been someone else. A Sarah, a Jessica… He didn’t believe me. He tried to explain, his voice strained with forced patience. “I told you, we’re just colleagues. We have never been alone together outside of work. You can check my phone, my messages, anything you want.” I kept shaking my head, and his patience finally snapped. “Carol, why can’t you just trust me? Are you really going to throw everything away over something so small?” Suddenly, a strange calm washed over me. “You see? Even now, you think I’m just being hysterical.” “Sometimes,” I continued, my voice hollow, “I think we were never right for each other. It was always just me, forcing it.” “I’ll never understand your algorithms and your technical jargon, and you have zero interest in the comics and movies I love. You hate it when I touch your things, and you never share anything about your work with me. If I talk for more than a minute to one of your male friends, you give me the silent treatment all night.” “My heart is made of flesh and blood, Caleb. It can be hurt. It can break.” “And even with all that, I tried my best to be good to you, because you said I was the only family you had left in the world.” My nose stung, and tears began to stream down my face. “But I’ve walked ninety-nine steps toward you, and you won’t even take that final one. In fact, you’re backing away.” “Caleb,” I choked out, the words tearing through me. “I’m so tired.” All these years, I had chased after him with everything I had. He was the one who reached out his hand. He was the one who said he wanted to spend his life with me. And I believed him. I gave him my whole heart, without reservation. But my devotion was like throwing stones into the ocean—no echo, no ripple, just a deep, despairing silence. I had become lost, insecure. Jealous and ugly. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I didn’t see the point of a marriage like this. As he stared at me, his eyes wide with a dawning horror, I slowly slid the simple band from my finger. It took all the strength I had left to force out the final words. “Caleb, let’s get a divorce.” His eyes reddened, and his voice trembled when he spoke. “Are you sure?” He was such a proud man. He would never beg, never ask me to stay. I knew that. I watched as the warmth in his eyes froze over, replaced by a glacial cold. “Fine,” he bit out. “You said it. Carol, if you want a divorce, you’d better not live to regret it.” 6 The reunion party was winding down when a blizzard swept in, trapping us at the mountain lodge. My plan to drive home was shot. I’d have to stay the night with everyone else and wait for the snow to let up in the morning. Later, soaking in the hot springs, the women chatted lazily. “I had the biggest crush on Big Mike in high school,” one sighed. “Now… well, time is a cruel, cruel thing.” “I know, right? And the class clown is a dad now, so responsible. Caleb’s the only one who hasn’t really changed, married or not.” “Speaking of Caleb,” another chimed in, “he wasn’t even on the original guest list. The class president told me he canceled a huge project launch meeting just to be here tonight.” “That’s so weird. Caleb was always such a loner back then. I can’t think of anyone he was close enough with to go to all that trouble for…” On impulse, my fingers found his number in my contacts. In the three years since our divorce, Caleb had texted me exactly three times. The first was a month after we separated. You left some clothes in my closet. Want to pick them up this weekend? The second was on Christmas the following year. I brought some gifts for your parents. I’m downstairs. The third message, sent sometime last year, contained only two words. Carol Vance. He must have regretted sending it instantly, because nothing followed. I never replied to any of them. The moment the clerk stamped our divorce papers, I had resolved to sever every last emotional tie to him. If it hadn’t been for this reunion, we probably would have gone the rest of our lives without ever seeing each other again. After the hot springs, I said my goodnights in the main lobby. The others were heading off for more drinks and games, but I was ready for bed. As I walked down the long, quiet hallway, I saw him. Caleb was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as if waiting for someone. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead, pretending not to see him as I walked past. “Carol.” I ignored him, fumbling with my key card. But just as I inserted it into the lock, a hand clamped down on the door handle, holding it shut. “Carol,” he said, his voice finally losing its composure, his tone sharp and demanding. “Tell me something. What’s this about a blind date?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384577”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The second year after Mom died, Dad decided to remarry. The woman, Joanna, threw out everything that belonged to my mother. She gave me spoiled milk to drink and forbade Dad from holding me. In the middle of the night, I’d hide under the covers, crying silent tears. Suddenly, strange text started flashing before my eyes, like comments on a screen only I could see. 【Cassie, don’t cry! Go find your grandpa!】 【He’s the chairman of the Vance Corporation, Cassie. Your uncle is a pop superstar, and your aunt is even more incredible.】 【Go, Cassie, go! The Aunties will NOT let you end up a tragic heroine like your mom!】 1 I pulled the blanket down just enough to peek out, my little six-year-old brain trying to process the words. I didn’t know what a “tragic heroine” was, but I knew “Grandpa” and the “Vance Corporation.” Before Mom passed away, she gave me half of a torn photograph of him. She told me that if Dad ever stopped loving me, I should take the photo and find my grandpa. Back then, Dad had sworn it was impossible, promising he would never marry again. But now, he only had eyes for Joanna and the baby brother in her belly. He didn’t even notice when I tripped and fell right in front of him. And last week, when I had a 104-degree fever, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, called him over a dozen times with no answer. She finally had to risk getting fired by giving me fever medicine herself. That day, Mrs. Gable was crying and laughing at the same time. She said Mom must have been watching over me from heaven, keeping me from becoming a “little fool.” 2 As I hesitated, wondering if I should really go find a grandpa I’d never met, the Comments told me more. They said if I stayed, Joanna would only get crueler. They said that when I turned sixteen, my dad would go bankrupt, my grandpa’s family would be destroyed, and Joanna would sell me to a man named Damian Sterling before taking ten billion dollars and fleeing the country. “Damian… you mean Damian Sterling?” My eyes went wide. Damian was five years older than me. Every time we met at family functions, he made fun of me. I couldn’t understand why he would pay money for me. Didn’t he know that buying children was against the law? The Comments exploded with excitement at the sound of my voice. 【OMG! Seraphina was right! Cassie can see our comments!】 Seraphina? Mom? These Aunties knew my mom! 【Let’s go, girls! If Cassie can’t escape her fate, it’s because we didn’t try hard enough!】 【Don’t you worry. I’ve got plenty of experience dealing with scumbags. If Landon Reed and Damian Sterling don’t get what’s coming to them, my ex can use my head as a bowling ball.】 The Aunties went wild for a few moments before getting back on track. 【Cassie, you have to run! Damian is an even bigger monster than your dad!】 【In this whole story, only your grandpa is powerful enough to stand up to the Sterling family. In the original plot, your mom’s family tried to help you in secret. If you go to them now, they’ll definitely take you in.】 【Cassie, if you and your grandpa can save each other, that’s what your mom would want more than anything.】 Save Grandpa… is that what Mom would want? My little heart hammered against my ribs. I scrambled out of bed and found the box with the photo. In it, my handsome grandpa had a gentle smile, his beautiful eyes clear and bright, just like Mom’s. Staring into those familiar eyes, I made my decision. If Dad didn’t love me anymore, then tomorrow, I would go find my grandpa. 3 The next morning, I put on my little backpack, tucked the photo safely in my pocket, and snuck out of the house. 【Cassie is so cute today! She looks like a little doll with her backpack. But why is she walking to school by herself instead of waiting for the driver?】 【She’s not going to school, silly! She’s going to find her grandpa!】 【YES, CASSIE! Get away from your trash dad! Get away from this trash life!】 Trash dad… the Aunties were so right! Just this morning, Mrs. Gable told me Dad was planning to turn my princess room into a room for the new baby. Mom had decorated that room for me herself. He was just going to give it away without even asking me. It was so unfair! I clenched my little fists and marched away from home with new determination. The problem was, our house was in a gated community up in the hills. There were no buses or taxis. I had to walk all the way down the mountain, step by step. Luckily, with the Aunties’ comments keeping me company, I wasn’t scared at all. From their hints, I learned that Grandpa was still drowning in guilt over Mom’s death, and because of it, my uncle and aunt had grown distant from him. 【Cassie, if your grandpa, uncle, and aunt would just team up, neither the Reeds nor the Sterlings would stand a chance against them.】 “Team up with Grandpa, Uncle, and Aunt. Got it,” I whispered, looking up at the sky with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Aunties. Cassie remembers.” Suddenly, the Comments started scrolling so fast I could barely read them. 【CASSIE, RUN!】 【Mrs. Gable and the driver are coming out to look for you! Hide!】 【If they catch you, your dad and Joanna will send you away to the countryside!】 【Don’t panic, Cassie! There’s a small path to your left! Run down that path!】 4 I glanced to my left and saw it—a barely visible trail hidden in the bushes. It had rained yesterday, and the path was a mess of slick, deep mud. I hesitated. I was wearing my prettiest dress and my special princess shoes to meet Grandpa. If I took that path, they would be ruined. 【Go on, Cassie! Take that leap of faith! The Aunties are right here with you!】 【This is the last muddy path you’ll have to walk in your life, Cassie. Push through it! Your grandpa is waiting.】 【You can do it, sweetie!】 Seeing all the encouragement from the Aunties, I didn’t hesitate anymore. I took a deep breath and plunged into the bushes. The path was so, so hard to walk on. I fell five times. My arms and legs were scratched by branches, and I almost lost the photo of Grandpa. But I didn’t dare cry or stop. Finally, following the Comments’ guidance, I reached the massive, gleaming tower of the Vance Corporation. 【He’s here, Cassie! Grandpa is here!!!】 【He’s right at the main entrance!】 【This is it, Cassie! The moment that changes your destiny is NOW!】 The excited comments chased away my tears. I sniffled loudly, sucking back a runaway drip, and broke into a run, my little legs pumping as fast as they could. I spotted him immediately—my grandpa, looking powerful and distinguished, surrounded by people in suits. He was about to get into a car and didn’t see the small child hurtling toward him across the vast lobby. “Grandpa, wait for me!” I cried out, my voice small in the cavernous space. I was so scared he would leave that I wasn’t watching where I was going. My foot caught, and I went down, hard. Splat. It was over. I’d never reach him now. The thought hit me, and a huge, heartbroken sob escaped. “Waaaaah!” My crying, it turned out, got his attention. I heard his deep voice ask an assistant, “Robert, what is that… filthy… thing?” 5 A thing? Was his eyesight that bad? I’m not a thing, I’m Cassie! I scrambled back to my feet and waved with all my might. “Grandpa! I’m your granddaughter!” He turned, his sharp eyes finding me. He stared for a long moment. I got nervous. My face was a mess of tears and snot, but I did my best to smile, just like Dad always said Mom did—with my eyes crinkling into little crescent moons. It worked. He started walking toward me, his long strides closing the distance between us. He knelt down, pulling out a silk handkerchief and gently wiping the mud from my face. “Little one,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft, “what is your mother’s name?” I stopped crying and answered him seriously. “Grandpa, my mommy’s name is Seraphina Vance.” “Seraphina…” At the sound of her name, his eyes instantly turned red. He composed himself after a moment, but his gaze turned cold and dismissive. “You’re Landon Reed’s daughter? What are you doing here?” His harsh tone made my heart tremble, but I gathered my courage and held out the photo Mom gave me. “Grandpa, Mom said if Dad ever stopped loving me, I could bring this photo to you.” “Half a photo? Your mother tore it to pieces, and she had the nerve to give it to you as a keepsake? Let me tell you something. From the day she insisted on marrying that man, the Vance family no longer had a daughter named Seraphina. And I am not your grandfather!” He didn’t take me in. He just got angrier. He tossed the photo to the ground like it was trash. “Robert, call Landon Reed. Tell him to come get his daughter immediately.” What? He was going to send me back to my trash dad? No! I couldn’t go back! I started to panic, but the Aunties in the Comments rushed to my rescue. 【Cassie, he’s all bark and no bite! Just be sweet to him, and he’ll let you ride on his shoulders while you eat popcorn!】 【Roll up your sleeves! Show him your cuts! Your trash dad is about to have a very, very bad day.】 【HUG HIS LEG, CASSIE! HUG IT TIGHT!】 Hug his leg! Okay! I followed their instructions, dropping to the floor and wrapping my arms tightly around his leg. “Grandpa, please, please don’t call my dad!” I wailed. “He and Joanna will send me to the countryside! Joanna said she’s going to sell me!” As I spoke, I pulled up my sleeve. The stiff fabric of my princess dress scraped against a fresh cut, and I couldn’t help but hiss in pain. Grandpa went rigid. This time, he didn’t push me away. He knelt down again, his eyes locking onto my arm. “What is this? Are you hurt?” 6 【He’s worried!】 【The second he saw she was hurt, the act dropped completely!】 【It’s only natural. If a sweetheart like this was my granddaughter, I’d give her my life!】 The Aunties were celebrating, but I was too scared to move. Grandpa’s presence was overwhelming, and he still looked furious. “Is this how Landon Reed takes care of you? He dresses you in dirty, torn clothes and beats you black and blue?” Huh? He thought Dad did this? It was from when I fell. I was about to explain when a new comment popped up. 【Let Grandpa see the ‘truth,’ Cassie. These injuries are from Landon Reed.】 【If you can squeeze out a tear or two right now, Cassie, your grandpa will go to war for you.】 【Tell him everything, Cassie. Tell him how Joanna bullies you.】 Just thinking about Joanna sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t have to squeeze. Tears started rolling down my cheeks all on their own. Before I could even get a word out, Grandpa was shrugging off his expensive suit jacket and draping it over my small shoulders. His expression turned dark and stormy. “Robert,” he commanded, his voice deadly calm, “inform Landon Reed that as of today, Cassie is no longer his daughter. Furthermore, I want a full report on the Reed Corporation’s latest investment portfolio. He dares to treat a Vance like this? I’ll make him pay three times over.” Pay? Grandpa was scary. I trembled, too frightened to speak. But the Aunties were ecstatic. 【Grandpa is such a badass! No wonder he’s my favorite character!】 【Does anyone else feel like this tragedy just turned into a revenge fantasy?】 【I suddenly can’t wait for Cassie’s uncle and aunt to get home.】 Home? But Grandpa hadn’t said I could stay with him yet. I gathered my courage and looked up at him. He was already looking at me, his eyes red-rimmed again. With one strong arm, he scooped me up. “Little girl, I’m only going to ask you this once. Do you want to go back to the Reeds, or do you want to come home with me to the Vances?” He wanted me to stay! I was so happy, but the tears just came faster. “The Vances! I want to go home with Grandpa! The other house is Joanna and Dad’s house now. Whenever I don’t listen to her, she threatens to throw me out.” I looked up at him, my voice a tiny whisper. “Grandpa, will you throw me out?” He didn’t answer. He just held my gaze, his voice turning to ice as he spoke to his assistant. “Robert. I want you to find out everything there is to know about this woman named Joanna.” 7 That day, Grandpa canceled all his meetings. He didn’t talk to me much, but he had Robert buy me over thirty new outfits, a trunk full of dolls and toys, and then he drove me back to his mansion himself. He stayed with me through dinner and had a maid give me a bath. The maid told me that Grandpa was usually the only one who lived in the huge house. My uncle only visited once or twice a year, and my aunt hadn’t been back in years. “Is Grandpa very lonely then?” I asked. “The Chairman is a very busy man. He isn’t home much, dear.” Oh. I looked down, a little disappointed. But after Mom left, I was used to being alone. It was okay. After my bath, Grandpa told me to meet him in his study. On my way, I passed a closed door on the second floor, and the Comments popped up. 【Cassie, that’s your mom’s room.】 【Even though Grandpa says he disowned her, he’s kept her room exactly as it was, waiting for her to come home.】 【You should ask for this room, Cassie. He’ll definitely let you have it.】 Really? I could sleep in Mom’s room? Excited, I ran into Grandpa’s study. He was reading a document and barely glanced up, but his cold gaze was enough to freeze me in place. “What’s your name,” he asked, his voice flat. “Grandpa, my name is Cassie Reed. Mom picked it out.” “Cassie Reed… Listen carefully. The only reason you’re staying here is because I won’t have the world thinking a Vance can be pushed around. But this house has rules. If you don’t follow them, you will be punished.” There was a long, thin ruler on his desk. I couldn’t help but shrink back. So that’s where Mom learned to tap my palm when I was naughty. He caught my small movement, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. Seeing that his mood had improved, I took a chance. “Grandpa, can I sleep in Mom’s old room?” He frowned. “No.” “Then… can you sleep with me tonight?” “You’re too old to be sleeping with someone. Now, get out.” He was angry. I backed out of the study, my heart sinking. The moment the door closed, I started to wipe away my tears. The Aunties patiently explained. 【Give him some time, Cassie. Your mom’s death is a thorn in his heart.】 【Your mom was his favorite child, and you’re a miniature version of her. It’s not that he doesn’t love you; it’s that he’s afraid to.】 【You’ve already escaped your trash dad and stepmom, Cassie. That’s a huge win! We’ll take it slow. He’ll come around eventually.】 The Aunties were right. Grandpa was grumpy, but he wasn’t a bad person. If I was a good girl, he would learn to like me. That night, I slept soundly. I vaguely smelled the faint, comforting scent of cigars near my bed. I must have been dreaming of Grandpa because I missed him so much. But the next morning, my dad and Joanna, who were supposed to be on vacation in the Maldives, stormed into the Vance Corporation. Dad saw me standing behind Grandpa and his face lit up. He held out his hands. “Cassie, come here. Dad will take you home.” 8 “I… I want to stay with Grandpa.” I refused, tightening my grip on Grandpa’s hand. Grandpa let me hold on, a slow, arrogant smile spreading across his face. “You heard her, Landon. Cassie doesn’t want to go with you. She’s a Vance now.” He gave Robert a look. “Give him the custody agreement.” Robert handed two folders to my dad. “Mr. Reed, the first is the custody transfer agreement. The second is—” “Silas Vance, when did I ever agree to this? You and Seraphina cut ties years ago. You have no right to take Cassie.”

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I once “kept” a dancer. For a hundred thousand dollars and two years of her life, she surrendered all her dignity. Then, my world collapsed into bankruptcy and debt, while she rose, collecting championships and dazzling the world. The next time we met, my beat-up electric scooter crashed into her Maybach. 1 I still don’t know how I managed to hit the Maybach. The rain was a torrential downpour, and I was in a hurry, rushing a delivery of fresh fish to a restaurant. One moment of distraction, and then impact. As I hit the slick asphalt, the sight of the Maybach’s shattered headlight sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the rain. Five thousand dollars. Minimum. The car door swung open, a silent wing in the roaring storm. I sat there, surrounded by the wreckage of my styrofoam boxes and the frantic, slapping bodies of escaping fish, a dull roar filling my ears. Wrong way on a one-way street, overloaded scooter. I was entirely at fault. A pair of women’s stilettos cut through the deluge, stopping just inches from my sprawled form. My voice was numb. “Sorry,” I mumbled, “I shouldn’t have turned here…” A flash of red sole followed as a man hurried over, his crisp voice laced with concern. “Hey, man, you alright?” The voice was familiar. I looked up and saw a handsome, impeccably sculpted face. It was Leo Vance, the A-list idol whose face was plastered across every magazine. And standing beside him, holding the umbrella, was Cora. The dancer who had been mine for two years. Three days earlier, the production crew for the reality show Hometown Echoes had descended upon my small town of Misty Hollow. Cora, the new star of the dance world, and Leo, the nation’s heartthrob, were the show’s headliners. The whole town was buzzing, every household hoping for a glimpse of the celebrities. I wanted no part of it. I had been actively avoiding them. Now, she knelt, her slender, porcelain fingers reaching out to remove my helmet. They brushed against my cheek, cool and deliberate. She stared at me, her voice as cold as mountain snow. “Once the damages are assessed, we’ll settle this by the book.” Leo tugged at her sleeve. “Cora, come on. Let it go. He looks like he’s having a rough time.” Cora rose to her full height, looking down at me as if from a great distance. “Everyone has to pay for their mistakes.” Which mistake was she talking about? Hitting her car? Shattering her dignity all those years ago? Or tempting her to taste a forbidden fruit? A bitter laugh escaped me. I pulled out my ID and handed it to her. “I’ll pay for my mistake,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, I need to deliver my fish. Don’t worry, you can hold onto this. I’m not going to run.” 2 A poor man has no time for self-pity. I found a styrofoam box that was mostly intact and began gathering the gasping fish, one by one. This was over two hundred dollars’ worth of product. I couldn’t afford to lose it. Hugging the box, I started to strap it to the back of my scooter, but a hand stopped me. In a single, fluid motion, Cora took the box from my arms and placed it in the trunk of her Maybach. “Get in. We’re going to the hospital.” I started to refuse, but her tone was absolute. “If you crash again on your way there, it’ll just complicate things.” I didn’t argue. Soaking wet, I climbed into the back of her car. Leo took the passenger seat, trying to break the heavy silence. “Hey, your English is perfect. You don’t sound like a local. Are you from out of town?” I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “Yeah.” “Misty Hollow is my hometown, actually,” he went on, oblivious to the tension. “Lived here when I was a little kid.” I knew. Hometown Echoes took each guest back to their roots, and Misty Hollow was the final stop. The tabloids were all saying Cora and Leo were going to make their relationship official here. “So what brought you to Misty Hollow?” he asked with a friendly smile. “Fall for one of the local girls?” The ringing in my head was getting worse, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I just wanted him to stop talking. I gave a noncommittal grunt. “Mmm.” In the rearview mirror, I saw Cora’s eyes. They were like frozen pools, sharp and unforgiving. The car suddenly accelerated, pressing me back into the plush leather. When we arrived at the restaurant, Cora got out and carried the box of fish inside without a word. Al, the owner, stared, his eyes wide. He pulled me aside, whispering, “Isn’t that… you know who? Looks like that Olympic skier, the world champion! What’s she doing delivering fish for you?” “You’re seeing things,” I lied, my voice low. “She’s just a cousin of mine, here on vacation.” I turned and met Cora’s gaze. It was as deep and dark as a well. I shouldn’t have told that lie. I had said those exact words once before. The first summer she was with me, I took her to a friend’s birthday party. Someone had slung an arm around me, smirking. “Well, Rhys. This one’s a knockout. How much did she cost you?” Cora had gone rigid, humiliation coloring her cheeks. I’d swirled the wine in my glass, leaning casually against her shoulder. “What are you talking about?” I’d drawled. “She’s just a cousin of mine.” 3 Cora dropped off the fish and wordlessly returned to the car. The hospital was only five minutes away. I filled out the paperwork at the front desk while Cora, now wearing a mask and a baseball cap, leaned against a railing nearby. In my memory, she was always standing just like that. Quietly waiting outside my window, in the corner of a room, in a field of snow, or on a silent beach. Four years, and it was as if nothing had changed. The image of the slender, poised woman before me blurred with the girl from my past. My mind drifted back to a scorching summer afternoon. She stood on the veranda, straight and proud as a young poplar tree. Her faded floral blouse and washed-out jeans couldn’t hide the perfect lines of her body—a portrait of desperate poverty and defiant youth. I was inside, behind the floor-to-ceiling window, my brush capturing the sun-kissed skin of her arms and legs. She had come looking for her father, my family’s chauffeur, begging for money for her grandfather’s medical bills. He’d refused her. I gave her two thousand dollars to be my model for the day. She accepted. The scene shifted. A ski resort. Cora’s life was a constant struggle. She worked multiple jobs—ski instructor, swimming coach, delivery driver—all to pay for her grandfather’s mounting hospital fees. I pretended I couldn’t ski and hired her as my private instructor. She was quiet, reserved, speaking only when it was about technique. The night before I left, she brought my skis to my room. Flushed with alcohol, I leaned in and whispered in her ear, asking if she wanted an easier life. She just frowned, shook her head, and refused. Then came the rainy night. She called me. “Mr. Archer,” she’d said, her voice tight, “are you… still interested in me?” When I arrived at the ICU, she was hunched over, clutching a bill with an astronomical figure, leaning against the sterile hallway wall like a pine tree broken by the weight of snow. I reached for her, but my hand closed on empty air. In my disoriented state, I called out, “Cora.” My fingers finally found something to grip. A stranger’s voice cut through the fog. “It’s nothing serious. A mild concussion. Just get some rest for a few days.” My own voice, slurred and distant, answered automatically. “I have to sell fish tomorrow.” “Absolutely not,” the doctor said. “You need to rest.” “It’s not tiring.” My vision slowly sharpened. I was in a hospital bed, and my hand was clenched tightly around Cora’s. A hot flush of embarrassment washed over me. I let go. 4 The hour of observation in that hospital bed felt like an eternity on a hot griddle. Leo had to leave for an urgent matter with the show, leaving just Cora and me in the sterile, silent room. The only sound was the relentless tick-tock of the wall clock. I pretended to be dizzy and turned over, facing the wall, my back to her. But I could feel her eyes on me, sharp as needles. “I’m fine,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “You should go. You must be busy.” After a moment, her cold voice replied, “Can’t you even say, ‘It’s been a long time’?” She was right. It was basic courtesy. “Yeah, it has been a long time,” I said. “You seem to be doing well, so I didn’t feel the need to ask.” “And how, exactly, did you determine that I’m ‘doing well’?” I pulled the thin blanket tighter around me. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re a world champion, a huge star. You’re doing better than ninety-five percent of the people on this planet.” “Are you doing well?” she asked. “I’m fine. I have enough to eat.” She fell silent. As she was leaving, a nurse recognized her, and she was instantly swarmed by fans asking for autographs. I didn’t wait. I just left. Back at my small courtyard home, Mrs. Gable was waiting anxiously at the gate. “Rhys, dear! Are you alright? Why are you wearing… is that a Gucci tracksuit?” Before he left, Leo had insisted I change out of my wet clothes, worried I’d catch a cold. “I ran into a kind person,” I said. “They lent it to me.” Mrs. Gable didn’t press, her face beaming. “Hurry inside! Dinner’s ready, and Maya’s waiting. And guess what? I made seventy-five dollars today from my eyebrow-shaping livestream! Once I get more followers, I’ll be making real money. Then you won’t have to sell fish anymore. You can just focus on your painting.” Hearing my voice, Maya, my little sister, came running out and grabbed my hand, her words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. “Brother, guess what we’re having for dinner! Spicy river shrimp! Mom caught them in the creek with a net!” I didn’t mention the five-thousand-dollar repair bill hanging over my head. And Mrs. Gable didn’t mention that the landlord had come by again, demanding the rent. 5 Late that night, I pulled a worn, white notebook from a paint-splattered drawer. It was filled with names. Some were crossed out, their debts repaid. Others, those in desperate need, were marked with a star. They were the workers injured in the explosion. Years ago, my family’s chemical plant had a catastrophic accident. The casualties were staggering. My father was held liable and sentenced to five years in prison. All our assets were liquidated for compensation, and it still wasn’t enough. The last time I visited him in prison, he wept. “Rhys, your sister is so young, and your stepmother has no way to support herself. Please, take care of them for me. As for the debts… wait for me to get out. I’ll find a way.” As I left, I squeezed his hand. “I will.” For years, I’ve spent every penny I had, sold my art for next to nothing, and worked day and night to compensate the victims. It was never enough. Some were worse off than me, their calls for help always hesitant and apologetic. Others were filled with rage, calling regularly to curse my entire family. As I was trying to decide who to pay this week, an unknown number lit up my phone. It was Cora. “Rhys. I’m outside.” Hearing my name on her lips felt both familiar and strangely alien. I froze. “It’s too late. It’s not a good time.” “The estimate for the headlight is in,” she said. “Just tell me the amount. You have my ID. I told you I’d pay.” Her voice grew colder. “Don’t you want your scooter back?” In the faint moonlight, Cora stood alone under the willow tree by the creek. She looked elegant, distant, and completely out of place next to the battered, paint-chipped electric scooter. I had no idea how she’d gotten it here; it wouldn’t have fit in her trunk. I stayed by the gate. “Thanks for bringing it back,” I said. “You could have just left it. People in this town are honest. No one would have stolen it.” I paused. “How much for the headlight?” She walked toward me, casting a long shadow that swallowed me whole. The feeling of being cornered made me take an involuntary step back. She stared into my eyes, then her gaze dropped to my lips. “Can you afford to pay me right now?” I couldn’t. In my white notebook of debts, Cora’s name wouldn’t even appear in the first thirty pages. “Give me some time,” I said. “I’ll pay you back.” Cora’s voice was a whisper of ice. “You have another option.” “Remember that little game we played when we first met? Two thousand dollars for a day. The headlight is five thousand. You give me three days.” 6 Everyone has to pay for their mistakes. I finally understood what she meant. An eye for an eye. Three days. A game… My throat went dry. She let out a short, sharp laugh. “Relax. I have no intention of sleeping with you.” The knot in my chest loosened. “Fine,” I said. Five thousand dollars was a fortune to me now. Besides, I didn’t want to be entangled with her any longer than necessary. I got in the car. She drove, fast, up the winding mountain road to a villa perched on the hillside. I knew the place; I could see it from my little courtyard. It used to belong to a foreign photographer, then sat empty for two years. Someone bought it six months ago but had rarely been seen. So, it was her. I remembered the gossip from the kid at the vegetable stall—that Misty Hollow was Leo Vance’s childhood home, that he and Cora were going to announce their relationship here. She must have bought it for him. I hesitated at the front door. She glanced back. “What? Having second thoughts?” “I still have Leo’s clothes,” I said quietly. I had no idea what she was planning, but whatever it was, this felt wrong. I was trying to remind her she had a boyfriend. Cora pushed the door open, her voice fading as she walked inside. “You can keep them. He has plenty of clothes.” I took a deep breath and followed her in. The villa was cavernous and cold, showing no signs of being lived in. In the vast, empty living room, Cora poured herself a glass of wine. She walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping her drink as she gazed at the twinkling lights of the town below. I stood awkwardly in the center of the room. “What do you want me to do?” My question was met with a long, heavy silence. I asked again. “Cora, what do you—” “Take off your clothes,” she said. I froze. Years ago, I had poured a glass of wine just like that and told her to do the same thing. I had paid off her grandfather’s hundred-thousand-dollar medical bill, and in return, she had packed a bag and come to the address I gave her. My private art studio. She stood nervously in the enormous glass-walled room. I had studied her, paintbrush in hand. “Take off your clothes,” I’d commanded. The blood drained from her face as she stripped, piece by piece. When she was down to her underwear, her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. “All of it,” I’d said. … Life’s reversals are cruel and swift. Back then, I never imagined our positions would ever be so completely flipped. My voice was steady. “We agreed you weren’t—” “I said I wouldn’t sleep with you,” she cut in, her tone still unnervingly calm. “And I won’t.” “Then why are you asking me to undress? I may be broke, but I won’t be put on display for five thousand dollars.” I had made her undress to paint her. What was her reason? To humiliate me? She walked towards me, her presence overwhelming. She leaned in, her lips close to my ear, her voice a low murmur. “What about fifty thousand? Five hundred thousand? Or five million?” Fifty thousand could pay for the plastic surgery for the daughter of one of the workers, whose face was horribly burned. Five hundred thousand could give two dozen families a chance to breathe. Five million… five million could erase more than half the names in my white notebook. I didn’t hesitate. I started unbuttoning my shirt.

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I woke up in a hospital, my head full of memories that weren’t mine. I’m Zoe Caldwell, sole heiress to the Caldwell Corporation—and now the villain in a cliché novel. My scripted fate was fighting our housekeeper’s daughter over a man, ending in disgrace and ruin. I touched the gauze on my forehead, then saw the zeros in my bank account. Give up this fortune for a guy? Was I insane? From then on, the story derailed. Innocent Luna crying? I don’t do passive-aggressive—I read bank statements. Ethan in love? Love’s exhausting. Here’s five million—go learn a lesson. Guilt-tripping relatives? Meet my lawyers. Let’s talk “equal before the law.” They said I had money, not soul. I said, “Perfect. Love hurts. Money’s my armor.” This is a rich woman crushing every snake in her path—brutally and simply. Don’t reason with me. It costs too much. 1 I opened my eyes to a stark white ceiling. The air hung thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic. A figure in a white coat hovered over me, his mouth moving. “Miss Caldwell, you’re awake. Are you feeling any discomfort?” I ignored him, my mind replaying a trashy TV drama on a loop. The show was called The Billionaire’s Contract Bride. The heroine was Luna Hayes, the daughter of the housekeeper my mother had hired. True to her name, she was the picture of fragile innocence, the kind of girl who looked like a strong breeze could knock her over and whose eyes would well up at a harsh word. The hero was Ethan Vance, the man I’d been engaged to since we were kids. He was handsome, wealthy, and completely blind. And I, Zoe Caldwell, was the villainess. The one who relentlessly framed Luna to win Ethan’s affection, only to be driven to bankruptcy by him and die a miserable death under a city overpass. I digested all of this with a blank expression. The doctor was still rambling beside me. “Miss Caldwell, you fell down the stairs. You have a mild concussion and will need to stay for a few days of observation.” A middle-aged woman threw herself at my bedside, grabbing my hand as tears streamed down her face on command. “Zoe, you scared me to death! Why do you have to pick on Luna? She’s Mrs. Hayes’s daughter! How could you push her down the stairs? And look at you, you’re the one who got hurt the worst!” This was my mother, a quintessential high-society wife whose universe revolved around flower arranging, spa days, and—most importantly—”not embarrassing the family.” I pulled my hand free. “I didn’t push her.” My mother froze, then her brow furrowed. “It was all on camera! Are you still going to deny it? If Ethan hadn’t shielded Luna, she’d be the one lying in this bed!” Oh, right. That’s how the script went. In the original story, I’d seen Ethan and Luna having an intense moment in the stairwell. I went to confront them, Luna lost her footing, and Ethan didn’t hesitate, diving to become her human cushion. In the process, they knocked me over, and I was the one who tumbled down the flight of stairs, becoming a laughingstock. The doctor tried to mediate. “Mrs. Caldwell, the patient has just woken up. It’s best to avoid any emotional distress.” My mother toned it down slightly, but she was still muttering, “Ethan has already made it clear. He wants to call off the engagement with our family. Honestly, Zoe, why are you such a disappointment?” Her voice was a grating noise in my ears. My father, the chairman of the Caldwell Corporation, was standing a short distance away, his voice low as he spoke on the phone. But I could still catch keywords like “Vance,” “the project,” and “merger.” See? These were my parents. One cared only about appearances, the other only about profit. Whether their daughter was alive or dead, in pain or not, seemed to be a trivial detail. Fine by me. It made things simpler. No need to pretend there was any real affection between us. I pushed myself into a sitting position, my head still spinning. “My phone.” My mother handed it over, her face a mask of disapproval. “What are you planning now? I’m warning you, Zoe, don’t you dare go harassing Ethan again!” I said nothing, unlocking the screen and dialing a number. The call connected almost instantly. “Zoe? How are you?” It was Ethan’s voice—magnetic, but laced with an undeniable thread of impatience and distance. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. “Ethan, where are you?” He paused. “I’m with Luna. She’s shaken up. The doctor said she needs someone with her.” “Oh,” I nodded. “I need you to come here. We’ll talk in person.” “Talk about what? Zoe, I have nothing to say to you. Our engagement is over.” His voice turned to ice. “Exactly. That’s what we need to talk about,” I said calmly. “Come over, and we’ll sign the annulment papers.” Dead silence on the other end of the line. My father had finished his call and was now staring at me, his expression grim. My mother looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Zoe, what nonsense are you talking!” Ethan’s voice finally came through again, thick with disbelief. “What did you say? Sign papers?” “That’s right,” I said. “It’s mutual. A clean break. You come here, I sign, and we go our separate ways. You won’t have to worry about me bothering your precious little flower ever again.” He sounded like he was choking. After a long moment, he said, “Fine. I’ll be there.” The line went dead. My mother pointed a trembling finger at me. “Zoe, did you hit your head too hard? Do you have any idea what breaking this engagement will do to our family?” My father strode over, his face livid. “This is absurd! Call Ethan right now and apologize!” I looked at them and found the situation almost funny. “The impact? You mean the Southside Redevelopment Project? Is the Caldwell Corporation going to crumble without the Vances?” My father was speechless. “Apologize?” I continued. “For what? Because he protected another woman and sent me flying down a flight of stairs? Dad, Mom, did you forget? I’m your daughter.” They both just stared, stunned. Perhaps because I had never, ever spoken to them in that tone before. I couldn’t be bothered to look at them anymore. I leaned back against the headboard and closed my eyes. The concussion was starting to kick in, a dull throb behind my eyes. But my mind was crystal clear. To hell with the scumbag hero, to hell with the saintly heroine, and to hell with the villainess script. I was rich, beautiful, and the future heiress to a multi-billion-dollar corporation. Chase a man? Please. A man would only slow down the speed at which I could spend my money. 2 Ethan arrived quickly. Trailing behind him was Luna, the “helpless” heroine herself. She was wearing a simple white dress, her face tear-streaked and her eyes red. The moment she saw me, she shrank behind Ethan, putting on a masterful performance of a terrified victim. She was a natural. A shame she wasn’t an actress; she’d win awards. Ethan shielded her protectively, like a knight guarding his princess. He frowned at me, his brow so furrowed you could lose a fly in it. “Zoe, what kind of game are you playing now?” The moment my parents saw him, their faces transformed. “Ethan, dear, you’re here. Zoe is just confused right now, don’t mind her,” my mother said, her smile sickeningly sweet. “That’s right,” my father chimed in. “Kids throw tantrums. Don’t take it seriously.” Ignoring my parents’ frantic damage control, I pulled a document from the bedside table and tossed it to Ethan. “Here. The annulment agreement. My lawyer already drafted it. Take a look. If there are no issues, sign it.” Ethan glanced down at the papers, and his expression became a fascinating mix of shock, confusion, and the offended anger of a man whose ego had just been bruised. He was probably so used to me chasing after him that my sudden, decisive action was more than he could process. Luna peeked out from behind him and whispered, “Zoe… please don’t be like this. I know you hate me. It’s all my fault. Don’t take it out on Ethan. I’ll… I’ll leave.” As she spoke, fresh tears began to fall. I looked at her and asked with genuine curiosity, “Leave? To where? Are you leaving the city? Should I book you a flight? One-way or round trip?” Luna’s sobs caught in her throat. Ethan’s face darkened. “Zoe, that’s enough! Luna is a kind person. Don’t project your own twisted thoughts onto her!” “Kind?” I repeated the word. “Is ‘kind’ living in my family’s house, spending my family’s money, and seducing my fiancé? The bar for kindness seems pretty low these days.” “That’s not true!” Luna retorted, her voice trembling with emotion. “Ethan and I are truly in love!” “Oh, true love.” I nodded as if in sudden understanding. “Well, that’s perfect. I’m setting you free. Sign the papers, and he’s all yours. You two can go wherever you want, and no one will ever stand in your way.” Ethan stared at me, his eyes searching my face for any sign that this was a trick. “What do you really want?” “I want you to sign this document and get out of my life. Is that so hard to understand?” I cleaned my ear with my pinky. “Or are you perhaps reluctant to give up the benefits of a merger between the Vance and Caldwell fortunes?” That hit a nerve. His expression turned ugly. “Zoe, don’t you regret this.” He snatched a pen and scrawled his name on the document, pressing so hard he nearly tore through the paper. He threw the agreement back at me. “As you wish.” I took it, glanced at the signature, and nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent. As of this moment, we’re even.” My parents looked like they were about to have a collective aneurysm. “Zoe!” “You’re out of your mind!” I ignored them and turned to my assistant, Laura. “Laura, please show our guests out.” Ethan took Luna’s hand and started to leave, but he paused at the door and looked back at me, his eyes filled with a complex emotion. “Zoe, don’t think this little stunt will get my attention. It won’t work.” I laughed. “Mr. Vance, you’re overthinking things. I just realized… you’re not good enough for me.” His face instantly turned blacker than the bottom of a scorched pot. I didn’t spare him another glance. Instead, I pulled a checkbook from my purse, wrote out a series of numbers, tore out the check, and held it out to the still-sniffling Luna. “Here. Take this.” Luna just stared at it, not moving. Ethan frowned. “What are you doing now?” “A severance package,” I said simply. Everyone froze. I pressed the check into Luna’s hand, my tone surprisingly gentle. “Five million dollars. The pin is six zeros. Take this money, start a small business, buy a house, whatever. Just don’t ever show your face in front of me again. And tell your mother to stop working as our housekeeper. It’s not just awkward for you; her presence has become an embarrassment to me.” Luna’s fingers trembled, the check feeling like a hot coal in her hand. “I… I can’t take this! I’m not doing this for money!” “I know you’re not here for the money, you’re here for love,” I said with profound understanding. “But love doesn’t pay the bills. Take it. Consider it my wedding gift to you and Ethan. After all, I was a witness to your great love story.” I finished and looked back at Ethan. “What’s wrong? Is your ‘true love’ only worth this much? Or did you think it wasn’t enough?” Ethan was so furious he was speechless, his handsome face flushed a deep red. He had probably never been so humiliated in his life. To have a price tag put on his great romance was the ultimate insult. But that was exactly my intention. Talk about feelings with you people who live in a fantasy world? Sorry, I only talk money. It’s simple, direct, and incredibly effective. My breakup with Ethan, combined with the betrayal of my best friend, made me the talk of the town. The rumors were flying. Some said the shock had driven me insane. Others whispered that the Caldwell Corporation was on the brink of bankruptcy. And then there were those who claimed I, heartbroken and scorned, was on the verge of becoming a full-blown villainess. I had to laugh. Insane? I’d never been clearer in my life. Bankruptcy? Please. I’d just dropped eighty million on a diamond at auction yesterday like I was buying candy. As for being a villainess… I kind of liked the sound of that. A few days later, an invitation to a charity gala arrived. The host was a prominent socialite, a Mrs. Davenport. In the past, I would have attended on Ethan’s arm, a pretty accessory listening silently as he networked. But now? I was the powerhouse. That evening, I arrived alone, dressed in a striking crimson couture gown. The moment I walked in, every eye in the room was on me. I saw surprise, contempt, and a whole lot of morbid curiosity. I ignored it all, made a beeline for the buffet, and started filling a plate. I’d had a long day, and I was starving. As I was eating, Mrs. Davenport glided over, a champagne flute in her hand. “Zoe, darling, it’s been too long. You look absolutely stunning,” she purred, her smile perfectly pleasant. “You’re too kind, Mrs. Davenport,” I said, spearing a piece of foie gras. “I heard you’ve been through… a difficult time recently,” she continued, feigning concern. “With Ethan… oh, it’s such a shame.” “Nothing shameful about it. When you have trash, you take it out. You don’t save it for a special occasion, do you?” Mrs. Davenport’s smile froze on her face. A few of the women nearby who had been shamelessly eavesdropping suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “You have such a sense of humor, Zoe,” she said with a dry laugh before getting to the point. “Tonight’s gala is to raise funds for underprivileged children in rural areas. As a successful young woman from such a prominent family, I do hope you’ll contribute generously.” Here it comes. The guilt trip. I swallowed my food and looked at her. “I’m happy to contribute. But I have a rule when I donate.” “Oh? And what’s that?” she asked, intrigued. “I need to know where every single penny goes,” I stated. “Mrs. Davenport, would it be possible for us donors to review your foundation’s financial records?” The air went still. Mrs. Davenport’s expression soured. “Zoe, what are you implying? Are you questioning our foundation?” “I’m not questioning anything,” I replied, my face a picture of sincerity. “I’m simply exercising my right as a donor to be informed. It’s a reasonable request, isn’t it? After all, our money doesn’t grow on trees. We donate because we want to help those in need, not to line someone’s pockets so they can buy designer handbags and jewelry.” My voice wasn’t loud, but in the quiet hall, it carried. Whispers erupted around us. Mrs. Davenport’s face turned a shade of beet red. “You… How dare you! Our foundation’s books are impeccable!” “Then let’s see them,” I said, holding my hands out. “If they’re so clean, you have nothing to hide. Unless, of course, you do.” “You!” She was sputtering with rage. Just then, a man with a protruding belly stepped in, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Miss Caldwell, must you be so aggressive? We’re all here for charity, to do some good. There’s no need to make things ugly.” “Ugly?” I shot back. “I think auditing financial records is standard procedure. Are you telling me that transparency is an ugly thing, Mr. Davenport?” “You’re just here to cause trouble!” he snapped. “Trouble?” I laughed. “Alright. If you think I’m causing trouble, I’ll see myself out.” I set down my plate and turned to leave. Everyone assumed I was retreating in defeat. A triumphant smirk even appeared on Mrs. Davenport’s face. I paused at the doorway, turned back, and offered the entire room a brilliant smile. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Half an hour ago, I had my assistant send a full dossier of evidence detailing your ‘charity’ foundation’s fraudulent accounting and tax evasion to the IRS and the State Attorney General’s office.” The room erupted. The Davenports’ faces went deathly pale. “And by the way,” I continued, “donating to children is a wonderful cause. That’s why I’ve already made a direct three-million-dollar donation from the Caldwell Corporation to the official Appalachian Children’s Fund. The funds are earmarked, ensuring every cent goes directly to the kids.” I locked eyes with the horrified Mrs. Davenport and delivered my final line. “Charity is a noble cause, Mrs. Davenport. It shouldn’t be a designer handbag to cover up the rot of people enriching themselves. Don’t you agree?” With that, I turned my back on the chaos and walked out, the clicks of my heels echoing in the stunned silence. The wind outside was brisk. And I felt fantastic.

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1 My fiancée seemed to forget I didn’t become her fiancé by luck. When she called me “polished” on our third anniversary, I knew—she’d fallen for that rugged intern. I watched them grow close and did nothing. I simply warned her before the engagement party: fire him, or it’s over. She hesitated and ran off. She returned later, a handprint faint on her cheek. “The engagement is on.” But at the altar, in her wedding gown, she froze when she saw me. “You’re not the man I want,” she said, trembling. She lifted her skirt and ran—right into Rhys, the intern, at the door. They clung together, kissing wildly, leaving me alone before the crowd. Phones lit up the church with flashes and laughter. In ten minutes, “CEO Jilted at Altar” trended everywhere. She wanted love? Fine. But was she ready for the cost? Thirty minutes later, Habsburg Corp. was collapsing. … My secretary burst into my office. “Mr. Blackwood, news of the Habsburg Corporation’s capital chain snapping has hit the media. Their stock is in freefall.” “If this continues, they’ll start layoffs by tomorrow and declare bankruptcy within the week.” “Too slow,” I said, my voice flat. This was merely an appetizer. “I’ll push them harder.” As my secretary left, I looked at a news photo of Chloe Habsburg’s ecstatic face in Rhys’s arms. I gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. I had given her a choice. She chose to lie. My reputation—Liam Blackwood’s reputation—is worth billions. My finger tapped the screen of my tablet, swiping to the stock market app. The Habsburg Corporation’s ticker was a sea of red. A notification popped up. It was Chloe. “Liam, you can’t force feelings. Just because I won’t marry you, you’re going to destroy my family’s company?” “If you ever loved me, you should be happy I’ve found true love. Can’t we just part amicably?” Amicably? Why didn’t she think of that before she made a spectacle of me? I swiped her message away and sent a text to my secretary. “Dig into Rhys. Everything.” Ten minutes later, my phone lit up with his file. I studied it for a long moment, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. A sharp knock came at my office door. Chloe strode in, her heels clicking on the marble floor. She slapped a file down on my desk. “Liam, I never realized how petty you could be.” “This is your compensation. Let’s consider the matter closed.” I picked up the file. A stock transfer agreement. Ten percent of her family’s failing company? A paltry three million dollars? She thought that could appease my fury? I let the papers flutter to the floor. “Is this a joke?” I sneered. “Are you trying to tip a beggar?” Her face hardened. “Don’t be so greedy, Liam.” With a flick of her hips, she turned to leave. At the door, she naturally linked her arm with Rhys, who had been waiting for her. They leaned in close, whispering, their lips almost touching. My phone buzzed. A message from my secretary. “The Habsburg Corporation has officially filed for bankruptcy.” “Begin the acquisition,” I texted back. I switched off the screen. Outside, the sky had grown heavy, and a soft rain began to fall. It was on a rainy day three years ago that I’d saved Chloe from an arranged marriage she’d desperately wanted to escape. She’d claimed it was love at first sight. She’d sworn she would never betray me. Now, it was clear she was not only disloyal but a fool. She wasn’t fit to be my dog. My phone rang, the sound jarring in the quiet office. Chloe’s voice, sharp and accusatory, cut through the silence. “It was you, wasn’t it? Liam, I know you’re doing this because you’re hurt, but it only makes me despise you more! It proves I was right to leave you!” I set down my pen, my posture relaxed. “Ms. Habsburg, these are just normal market fluctuations. Why must you blame me for everything? As for being hurt…” I chuckled, my tone dripping with contempt. “You really do flatter yourself.” There was a pause on the other end, then her voice came back, hoarse. “If you spare the company, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.” I hung up. The Habsburg Corporation was finished. The only way she could make it up to me was to be reborn. But in a civilized society, I couldn’t be quite so violent. My secretary entered again, his expression hesitant. “Sir, you should see what’s happening online.” I opened my browser. There was Chloe, weeping, her face a mask of tragic beauty. The headline read: “Groomed CEO’s Dark Secret: ‘He Has… Issues.’” The article was a thinly veiled hit piece. “Liam Blackwood seems perfect on the surface, but he’s a deeply damaged man,” she was quoted as saying. “Do you think I would give up being the wife of a CEO if our life together was even remotely bearable?” The rumors spread like locusts. A new text from her arrived. “Men care about their pride more than anything. Stop this attack on my family, and I’ll clear your name.” A smirk touched my lips. She was an idiot. The prize in my hand versus the buzzing of gnats. The choice was obvious to anyone but her. Only a fool would trade substance for reputation. I was about to leave for the Habsburg Corporation to finalize the acquisition when Rhys appeared at my office door. “Mr. Blackwood, stop tormenting Chloe! If you have a problem, take it out on me!” he declared dramatically. “It’s all my fault. I’ll pay with my life. I hope that after I’m gone, you’ll be kinder to her.” Before anyone could react, he scrambled onto the windowsill of my top-floor office. Employees in the hallway stopped, their faces a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. My own face was a mask of ice. My corporate headquarters had become a circus. Who were these people who thought they could just walk in and put on a show? Sirens wailed from the street below. Police cars were already arriving. A crowd was gathering. Just then, the elevator doors opened and Chloe rushed out, a gaggle of reporters in her wake. The moment she saw me, she collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “Liam, please, let us go! I know you hate me, but Rhys is innocent!” “Yes, you’re rich and powerful! You’ve already destroyed my family’s company, isn’t that enough?” she screamed. “My father is on the verge of a heart attack, my mother is in the hospital, and now you’re going to drive Rhys to his death? Are you that heartless?” Phones were raised. Whispers filled the air. Even the reporters behind her looked at me with pity. One of them spoke up. “Mr. Blackwood, surely you can show some mercy.” On social media, the hashtag #LiamBlackwoodTheBully was skyrocketing. I took a step forward, looking down at Rhys, who was still perched precariously on the ledge. “You really think I’m the one pushing you?” Rhys didn’t answer, but a flash of triumph crossed his face as he leaned in and hissed, “It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re finished.” He smirked. “Chloe chose me, even if it meant losing everything. How pathetic does that make you? If I were you, I’d have jumped long ago.” I had no intention of jumping. But he, on the other hand, slammed his head against the window frame. Blood trickled from his temple. “Liam, your threats won’t work!” he cried out, his voice trembling, his eyes red-rimmed. “Do you need to see me dead before you’re satisfied?” Gasps erupted from behind me. Chloe, as if on cue, scrambled to her feet and lunged for the window. “If he dies, I die! Life has no meaning without Rhys!” Together, they tumbled out into the open air. Panic and screams filled the hallway. I walked to the window and looked down. A massive inflatable safety cushion had been deployed on the street below. They landed squarely in the middle of it. So that was their plan. No wonder they were so bold. The reporters went into a frenzy, their cameras flashing, livestream feeds focused on the two lovers embracing on the cushion below. How tragically beautiful. Star-crossed lovers. A testament to true love. Those became their labels. And I was the cold-blooded villain, the corporate monster who crushed them. Blackwood Holdings’ stock began to slide. I was a pariah. Protesters gathered outside my building every day, throwing trash at my car whenever I came or went. My private residence was flooded with funeral wreaths sent by anonymous “well-wishers.” Other tenants in my building demanded my eviction. My secretary was worried. “Sir, morale is plummeting. We’re seeing a wave of resignations.” I narrowed my eyes. “Let them go.” A text from Chloe came through, dripping with smugness: “Scared yet? Apologize publicly, restore my family’s company, and give me a billion dollars, and I might consider helping you.” I tossed the phone onto my desk and ignored it. To think she could force my hand with such a cheap, pathetic melodrama was laughable. Even if Chloe Habsburg was ground to dust, Blackwood Holdings would not be affected in the slightest. Then, new photos surfaced online. Chloe, “escaping” after an alleged “kidnapping.” Her hair was a mess, her clothes were torn, and she tearfully accused me of orchestrating it. She also posted a photo of Rhys, unconscious and covered in fake blood, with the caption: “Leave us alone, Liam! Take my life if you want, but don’t you dare touch Rhys!” The public outrage exploded anew. The comments were a firestorm of people tagging the police, demanding an investigation into my “criminal empire.” Amateur essayists wrote passionate screeds about the injustice of it all. At the next board meeting, the shareholders were restless. They demanded my temporary suspension. I leaned back in my chair, unruffled. “If I step down, who do you propose to take my place?” They exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, my own uncle, Marcus Blackwood, stood up. “Liam, the company needs a scapegoat. This all started with you. The honorable thing to do is resign.” “As for the company,” he added with false magnanimity, “I can manage things in your stead for a while.” A cynical smile touched my lips. Before I could speak, a young woman stood. “If Blackwood Holdings refuses to distance itself from Mr. Blackwood’s actions, I will be forced to take my division and secede from the parent company.” The woman leading the revolt was none other than Chloe’s best friend, Isabelle Reed. “I cannot, in good conscience, be a part of such a morally bankrupt enterprise,” she declared. I stared at her, amused. If Chloe hadn’t begged me on her knees, this woman, with her community college degree, would never have risen to her current position. She knew it, yet she put on this grand show of righteousness. The boardroom doors opened, and Chloe walked in, Rhys at her side. “Well, Mr. Blackwood? It’s not too late to accept my terms,” she said, her voice filled with triumph. “Get on your knees and apologize. If I’m in a good mood, I might even leave you with some pocket money.” On the projector screen, our stock price continued to plummet. The shareholders grew more desperate. I pushed the papers on the table into a neat pile. “Are you finished?” I asked calmly. “Then it’s my turn.” Chloe stared at me, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. I pressed the enter key on my laptop.

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I was escorting a prisoner on a flight piloted by my boyfriend when his childhood friend insisted we move the inmate to first class. For her, my boyfriend delayed takeoff. “Ma’am, I believe you’re threatening the passenger beside you. If you don’t move, this flight will be delayed. Can you compensate everyone?” she said, self-righteous. I showed my badge, but she ignored it, claiming policy forbid checking IDs. Furious, I called for the chief attendant—my boyfriend’s sister. She defended her friend and accused me of causing trouble. Her friend Sarah provoked me: “I heard there’s a criminal onboard. Is it you? Is that man your next target?” I slapped her. She’d just revealed classified prisoner transport to 186 people. My boyfriend Jake emerged from the cockpit. After hearing their side, he restrained me without a word. I looked at him, cold. “Are you really willing to throw away your career for this?” This was a suspect our department had spent three years tracking. Fifty-three officers had died to bring him in. Jake knew better than anyone how dangerous this man was, how many lives had been lost. And now, he was siding with these people. At my words, Jake flinched. His brow furrowed with indecision. Sarah immediately clung to his arm. “Jake, if we get a formal complaint from all 186 passengers, we’ll all be fired! You have to think about the entire crew!” Jake’s sister, Molly, looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Brother, don’t be foolish. I worked so hard to become chief flight attendant. You can’t let me lose my job.” The hesitation in Jake’s eyes hardened into resolve. He grabbed my wrist, trying to drag me away. I fought back, my hands gripping the armrests. “Jake,” I hissed, “you know exactly how many people this man has killed. If you move me, can you guarantee the safety of every single passenger on this plane? Aren’t you afraid he’ll wake up and go on a rampage? Is a write-up worth more than a prison sentence? Think about it.” He looked at me, then at Sarah, and his mind was made up. “Chloe, they’re my crew. They’re my friends. I can’t let one mistake cost all of them their jobs. Don’t worry, I’ll watch the suspect. I won’t let him hurt anyone.” He glanced at the quietly slumped figure of the prisoner, then turned back to me, his tone placating. “Look, he’s peaceful. He’s not armed. There are enough of us to handle him. Just… stay in the lavatory for a couple of hours. I’ll apologize when we get home, okay?” What he didn’t know was that the prisoner was only quiet because I had injected him with a powerful sedative before boarding. The drug only lasted for one hour. I had a second dose in my bag to ensure a smooth transport. Thirty-five minutes had already passed since the first injection. In twenty-five minutes, if he didn’t receive the second dose, the chaos that would ensue was unimaginable. I laid out the stakes for him, my voice urgent and clear. “Jake, if this is too difficult, I can compromise. Move us to first class.” Before we boarded, Jake had mentioned the first-class cabin was empty. Moving us there was the perfect solution. But Sarah overheard me. “You’re a murderer and you want to sit in first class?” she shrieked. “On what grounds!” Her words ignited the passengers’ anger once more. “Why should a scumbag like that get to sit in first class? If you move him, we demand a refund! A full refund!” “A killer gets first-class treatment while the rest of us follow the rules? If you don’t lock her up, we’re all filing a complaint the moment we land!” “This is completely unprofessional!” The chorus of outrage rattled Jake. He grabbed my wrist again, this time dragging me toward the lavatory. “Just stay in here quietly. I’ll let you out in two hours. Behave!” “Our careers are on the line with this flight! I can’t afford any mistakes!” His grip was brutal. As he pulled me, my head slammed against a metal food cart. The world spun. Jake saw my dazed expression and loosened his hold slightly. He knelt, about to ask if I was hurt. But Sarah, clutching the cheek I’d slapped, started to cry. “Chloe gets hurt and Jake is right there to comfort her. When I get slapped, I just have to suffer in silence.” Molly rushed to her side, glaring at me. “Brother, she just hit Sarah. She’s tough as nails; a little bump won’t kill her. You need to check on Sarah.” Jake immediately let go of me. Without his support, I crumpled to the floor. He saw the red mark on Sarah’s face and his own face contorted with rage. This time, there was no mercy. He slapped me, hard, twice across the face. “You attack people for no reason? You really are the dangerous criminal they warned us about. You’re going to learn some respect. Now get in the damn lavatory!” He kicked me in the ribs. I heard a distinct crack. How ironic. I had survived countless deadly missions, only to have my ribs broken by the man I loved. I clutched my chest, the disappointment a cold, hard knot in my stomach. “We’re done.” “When this plane lands, I’m reporting everything.” His face went pale with panic. He grabbed my hair, forcing me to look at him. “You wouldn’t dare!” “If you do that, we are not getting married!” We had planned to get married after this mission. But after this, the thought was repulsive. “I can’t wait.” My words ignited his fury. He squeezed my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. “Say that again!” “Jake,” I said, my voice steady despite the pain, “enjoy prison.” I wasn’t afraid of him. “You…” He was speechless, choking on his anger. Sarah, her eyes red, tugged at his arm. “Jake, I know Chloe is just upset with me. After this flight, I’ll resign. I’ll take full responsibility. I won’t let you lose your job.” “Chloe is being immature, but I can’t be. You’re about to be promoted to captain, and Molly has worked so hard to get where she is. I can’t let all your hard work be for nothing.” She hid her face, a perfect picture of martyrdom. I let out a cold laugh. “You are the one responsible. If you hadn’t announced there was a prisoner on board, if you hadn’t insisted on moving him, none of this would have happened.” Sarah buried her face in Jake’s chest, sobbing. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault…” The sight seemed to break Jake’s heart. He stroked her back, murmuring reassurances. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you take the blame alone. I’ll protect you.” Molly chimed in. “Brother, just gag her. Then no one will ever know what happened here.” Jake hesitated. “But the other passengers…” Molly raised an eyebrow. “I have a plan.” She turned to the cabin. “This criminal is more dangerous than we thought. We need assistance. Is there anyone willing to help us restrain her? We’ll report it to the airline, and you’ll receive a year of free flights.” A brilliant, evil plan. Make the passengers accomplices, and they would all be on her side. The passengers, ignorant of the truth, were eager to help. Soon, I was surrounded. The narrow aisle was packed. I felt hands grabbing my arms, fingers prying at my mouth. I summoned every ounce of strength and shoved them back. Years of training had given me the skills to defend myself. I had no other choice. I pulled my badge from my pocket, my voice strained with pain. “Look closely. I am a police officer. There is a high-level felon on this plane, and I am his escort. If you lock me up, the consequences will be irreversible.” A passenger near me craned his neck, trying to see if it was real. But Molly snatched it from my hand. “It’s a fake! I can’t believe you’d forge a badge to evade responsibility.” In front of everyone, she tore it to shreds. “We were briefed on the suspect’s description. It’s her. Everything she’s saying now is a lie.” “And I have reason to believe she’s hiding other items. For the safety of everyone on this flight, I need to search her.” “You wouldn’t dare!” I roared. Molly leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Let me be honest. I never wanted you as a sister-in-law. A woman who spends all her time with men, reeking of them… My brother told me the scars on your body disgust him. A woman like Sarah is what he deserves.” She lunged, tearing at my shirt. It was summer, and I was only wearing a t-shirt. The fabric ripped, exposing my bra. A few of the men in the crowd leered, their hands reaching for me. I fought back, pushing them away, but more surged forward. “A killer who still pretends to have shame,” one of them sneered. “We’re just getting justice for your victims!” My pride, my dignity, shattered. But I held back, knowing I couldn’t seriously injure civilians. And then, the prisoner moved.

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On the eve of launching the product our team had bled for over three years to create, I overheard my wife planning to give my title—Co-founder—to an intern. Her best friend, Karina, was trying to reason with her. “Ava, think about this. Daniel has poured his soul into this project for three years. You can’t just replace him at the last second. It’s not right.” “And if you’re really that into this new programmer kid,” Karina continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “just keep him on as an assistant or something. Why blow everything up over him?” Ava’s voice was a low, tense murmur. “You don’t get it. I can’t give him the commitment he wants, so the least I can do is make it up to him financially.” “Daniel’s entire focus is on this launch,” she explained, her logic cold and precise. “If I tell him now, he’ll implode, and the launch will go down with him. It’s better to just announce it on stage, while he’s preoccupied. Once it’s a done deal, he won’t make a scene. He’ll have to swallow it for the sake of the company’s image, for the stock price.” I silently crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, the last wisp of smoke curling into the darkness. Then, I turned and walked back to the bedroom. … The day of the launch, the conference hall was a swarm of flashing cameras and microphones. Just as Ava was basking in the limelight, her arm linked with the intern, Leo, Karina burst through the crowd, her face pale with panic. “It’s a disaster! Someone leaked our product! A rival company just launched a clone—they went live three hours ago and already have over eight million users!” This was my little gift to her. Yesterday afternoon, I sold the exclusive rights to our product to her biggest competitor, Apex Dynamics. … Karina dragged her into the emergency stairwell, the door slamming shut behind them. “This project was Daniel’s baby from day one,” she hissed. “Could he have done this? What if he found out about you and Leo? This feels like revenge, Ava.” Ava shook her head, her certainty absolute. “Don’t jump to conclusions without proof. Daniel comes from a family of academics, three generations of Ivy League scholars. He has too much class, too much pride. If he knew something, he would have confronted me directly, not pulled a stunt like this.” Karina wasn’t convinced. “You’re being naive! The man adores you. If he found out you betrayed him, that love would turn to hate in a second. And if he decided to retaliate, you know the Hawthorne family is not to be trifled with. We wouldn’t survive that fight.” A small, confident smile played on Ava’s lips. “You forget. He turned his back on them for me. The Hawthornes disowned him years ago. They won’t lift a finger to help him. Now, I’m all he has left. He’s a smart man; he wouldn’t burn the only bridge he has.” Karina seemed to relax, reassured by Ava’s confidence. But a flicker of confusion crossed her face. “I still don’t get it. What’s so special about this Leo kid? No offense, but from where I’m standing, he can’t hold a candle to your Daniel.” Ava’s smile softened. “Daniel and I have been together for seven years. The passion… it’s settled into a routine, a habit. Since Leo came along, I’ve felt this strange, secret guilt towards Daniel, and it’s actually made our relationship better. It’s a win-win, isn’t it?” So that’s what it was. The seven-year itch. The fading flame. Leo was just the jolt of electricity she needed to feel something again. But the moment she decided to give him my position—the position I had earned—the scales in her heart had tipped for good. Through the thin metal door, their voices carried, faint but clear. “You’re playing with fire, Ava. One day you’re going to push it too far and lose everything. You have a perfect husband, I don’t know why you feel the need to create all this drama.” Ava’s tone was unshakable, laced with a chilling certainty. “He loves me more than his own life. Remember when I was misdiagnosed with heart failure? Without a second thought, he signed a directed donation agreement, ready to give me his heart. It turned out to be a false alarm, but that agreement? It’s still legally binding.” She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. “Do you know what that means? It means if I ever needed it, his heart is mine for the taking. A man who would literally do that for me… is he really going to throw it all away over a little fling with Leo?” “But you’ve reminded me,” she added, her voice shifting. “He’s bound to be jealous about today’s mess. I’ll just have to smooth things over later. He’s ridiculously easy to soothe, you know. A few kisses, a soft touch, and he’s happy for days.” Her voice turned wistful, almost bored. “There’s no challenge in it anymore. It’s not like Leo. He can give me the silent treatment for a week straight when he’s mad. Now that’s exciting.” Exciting? I closed my eyes, forcing a steadying breath into my lungs. She thought I was easy to soothe? It was never about that. It was because I couldn’t bear to see her worried or upset, so I let things go. I yielded. And she saw it as a lack of excitement. A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips. Is this just human nature? Get too comfortable, and you start craving chaos. Well, if that’s what she wanted, and I loved her so much… how could I deny her the satisfaction? I walked back into the main hall just as Ava and Karina emerged from the stairwell. She saw me and immediately rushed to my side. “Daniel, I know this is a nightmare, but we have to stay focused. The top priority is finding the traitor who did this.” Even now, she was pretending to care about my feelings. I raised an eyebrow, watching the carefully constructed concern on her face. If I hadn’t heard what I’d just heard, her performance would have been flawless. Ava took my hand, her touch meant to be comforting. “Don’t blame yourself. I know you did everything you could.” I didn’t pull away, nor did I respond. Her fingers traced absentminded circles on the back of my hand. Then her tone shifted, becoming more strategic. “Daniel, with this crisis, there’s going to be fallout inside the company. It’s going to make it hard for you to lead the team moving forward.” I played along. “So what do you think I should do?” A flicker of something—triumph?—flashed in her eyes before she suppressed it. “You know, the plan was to officially announce you as Co-founder today. But after this… if I force you into that position now, the board and the team will never accept it. So maybe…” Seeing I wasn’t interrupting, she spoke faster, as if afraid I’d refuse. “I’m thinking of letting Leo step up for now. He can be the public face, handle the press. All the negative attention, internally and externally, will be focused on him. It will take the pressure off you.” Her scheme was brilliant in its cruelty. She had already promised my title to her lover, but now, under the cover of crisis, she was twisting the narrative. Now, Leo was the noble one, taking the fall for me. And I was supposed to be grateful. My silence seemed to make her anxious. “It’s just a temporary measure, Daniel. A strategic move to get us through this. You have to understand, it’s all for the good of the company.” She paused, her voice softening into a velvet purr. “Your position in this company is unshakable. No one can ever change that. Once this storm passes, everything will go back to normal. Okay?” I looked at her, my voice low and hollow. “And what about my position in your heart?” She looked at me, confused. “My position in your heart,” I repeated. “Is that unshakable, too?” She stared for a second, then broke into a laugh, tapping my shoulder playfully. “Are you serious? Right now? I’m over here trying to figure out how to protect you, how to make this easier on you, and you’re getting jealous?” My eyebrow arched. “So this is my fault, then?” She must have sensed the shift in my demeanor, the coldness beneath the surface. Her expression changed, and she suddenly wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. “It’s just a strategy, a way to survive this. If you’re not happy with it, we won’t do it. We won’t use him.” I nodded slowly, my voice devoid of emotion. “Fine. Have it your way. If you think he has what it takes to stabilize the situation, then let him try.” My easy agreement clearly threw her off again. “…You agree?” she asked, her voice laced with hesitation. I offered a ghost of a smile. “You said he’s just a shield, a scapegoat to take the fall for me. Why would I object to that?” Without another glance at her, I pushed open the heavy doors of the venue. A blast of cold, damp air hit my face. It felt like it was about to pour. She followed me to the car, her voice a complex mix of emotions from behind me. “Daniel, once this is all over, everything will be okay. I promise.” I didn’t turn back. The storm would pass. But whether things would be okay… that was no longer up to her. With Leo installed as the new Co-founder, Ava paraded him everywhere. Investor meetings, industry galas, press conferences—they were an inseparable, high-profile duo. The looks I got from colleagues in the office became a mixture of pity and suspicion. One day, Ava called me into her office. “Daniel, we have to find the mole. I’ve set up an internal investigation team, but you were the core of the project. You know every line of code, every data stream. You have to lead the investigation.” I looked at her, a laugh bubbling in my throat. She wanted me to investigate myself. I nodded, my tone sincere. “Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this and give everyone the answers they need.” And so I began, making a grand show of leading the investigation, poring over logs and interviewing my own team members. That night, as I was “working late” with the investigators, my phone buzzed. It was my older brother. “Daniel, turn on the live stream for the charity gala right now. I’ll buy the item back for you, but you’re going to owe me an explanation for this mess.” A cold dread washed over me. I clicked the link. On the screen, the auctioneer was presenting the next item, a donation from Aura Tech’s own CEO, Ava Thorne. A magnificent blue diamond ring, once part of a royal collection. A hot rush of blood roared in my ears. My vision swam. That ring… My fingers were already dialing her number. “Daniel? Why are you calling so late? Is there… a break in the investigation?” My voice was a low growl, each word ground between my teeth. “You donated the engagement ring.” The line went silent. I could practically hear her panic. “You saw that? Look, Leo’s never been to one of these things, it was an awkward situation, I had to do something. But don’t worry, I’m going to buy it back.” “I know it was your grandmother’s,” she rushed to add. “I would never actually let it go. Relax…” I cut her off. “You used a Hawthorne family heirloom to clean up your boy-toy’s mess? He’s not just a ‘temporary measure,’ is he? He’s the apple of your eye.” It was like I had struck a nerve. “What are you talking about? He represents me now. When he looks foolish, I look foolish! Did you want me to become a laughingstock?” I let out a slow, weary sigh. “So you donated the ring.” Her voice became sharp, defensive. “I told you I’ll buy it back, no matter the cost! Isn’t that enough? What more do you want?” My control finally snapped. “It was a gift from me to you, Ava! You didn’t even have the decency to ask me.” The silence on the other end was thick with tension. Then, a soft male voice intruded. “Daniel? Look, we’re here representing the company. Aura Tech can’t afford another scandal right now. Ava was in a tough spot. This was my fault, really. I’ll make it up to you.” “She’s been so stressed lately, not eating, not sleeping,” Leo continued, his voice dripping with false concern. “Please don’t fight with her. It’s my fault. When we get back, you can take all your anger out on me.” Listening to him, my white-hot rage cooled to ice. I had forgotten about the silver-tongued charmer by her side, always ready to twist the situation to his advantage. Before I could speak, Ava’s voice cut in, fierce and protective. “Why are you apologizing to him? It was his mess in the first place! We’re here trying to fix it, and he’s whining about trivial, sentimental nonsense.” She scoffed, her voice turning to steel as she addressed me through the phone. “This just proves I was right to make Leo Co-founder. You have less strategic vision than a fresh college graduate.” Her words were a slap in the face, but they brought a chilling clarity. The depths of their shamelessness were truly something to behold. In that moment, I found myself thinking, they really do deserve each other. I made one last attempt to appeal to the woman I thought I knew. “Ava, that ring meant more than its monetary value. To me, it was priceless. That’s why I asked you to marry me with it. If you cared about me, you would have told me before you put it on that auction block.” I thought that by spelling it out, by taking a step back, she would understand. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “It’s just a ring, Daniel. A material object. Is it more important than the company’s reputation? When did you become so emotional, so incapable of seeing the bigger picture?” “I’m emotional?” I repeated her words, the last embers of hope in my heart turning to ash. “Ava, it wasn’t just a ring—” On her end, I heard Leo’s voice murmur, “Ava, come on. Mr. Davison is waiting for us.” Ava’s tone immediately became businesslike. “I have important people to talk to. I don’t have time for this petty drama. The ring is a done deal. We’ll talk when I get back.” In the end, my brother bought the ring back anonymously, for a price so absurdly high it made headlines. Ava was clearly stunned when a mysterious bidder swooped in and outbid her. The next day, she presented me with an elegant watch box. “Daniel, I was wrong about yesterday. Can you forgive me?” I opened it. Inside lay a limited-edition timepiece worth a small fortune. I closed the lid and pushed it back across the desk toward her. “There’s no need. The ring is in the past.” My voice was flat, unreadable. She blinked. “What do you mean, ‘in the past’?” I didn’t expose her lies or press the issue. “I mean you were right. It’s just an object. The people in front of us are what matter.” A look of smug satisfaction crossed her face, as if to say, I knew he’d come around. She nestled against me, the subject of the ring completely forgotten. “Let me put it on for you.” I gently blocked her hand. “No, thank you. The style is too young for me.” Her eyes darted away, and she quickly changed the subject. Life seemed to fall back into its old rhythm. She continued to tour the city with Leo, the shining power couple. Until a senior management meeting. Ava sat at the head of the table, with Leo in the seat of honor to her left. As she spoke, her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the polished wood. My gaze froze on her left hand. On the finger where my grandmother’s diamond had once rested, there was now a simple, hand-hammered silver band. Leo made it for her. The thought was as clear and certain as a shard of glass in my mind. I didn’t confront them. But Leo decided to confront me. He cornered me in the hallway after the meeting. “Hey, Daniel. Got a minute?” I ignored him and tried to walk past. He sidestepped, blocking my path. “I heard you didn’t accept the watch Ava got for you,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “You keep rejecting her peace offerings, you’re going to break her heart. And when a heart gets cold, it starts looking for warmth somewhere else. You know what I mean?” I stopped and fixed him with an icy stare. He took my silence as an invitation to continue, growing bolder. He stroked the matching silver ring on his own finger. “I made this myself. It’s not worth much, but Ava says it’s more precious than any diamond. Because it’s the thought that counts, right?” He looked me right in the eye, his smugness practically radiating off him. “Tell me, Daniel. When you’re at the top for so long, do you even remember how to tell the difference between genuine affection and someone just going through the motions?” I stared at his gloating face and found it utterly pathetic. “Are you done?” I asked. He seemed taken aback by my lack of reaction. He faltered. “If you’re done,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet, “then get out of my way.” The color drained from Leo’s face. Without a backward glance, I walked away. That night, a shrill ringtone ripped me from a shallow sleep. Ava’s name flashed on the screen. “Daniel, have you lost your mind? You could have killed him!” I sat up, my mind clearing instantly. “What the hell are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb with me! You locked Leo in the storage closet! Security found him nearly passed out from dehydration! Who else would be vicious enough to do something like that? My God, Daniel, I never knew you could be so cruel.” A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Ava, I don’t have time for these pathetic games. Instead of screaming at me, why don’t you go check the security footage?” Before she could continue her tirade, I hung up and blocked her number. Silence. Blessed silence. But less than ten minutes later, another call came through, this time from an unknown number. “Hello, am I speaking with Mr. Daniel Hawthorne? This is the Organ Transplant Coordination Center at Metropolis General Hospital. Our records indicate that you have a signed cardiac donation agreement on file, with a clause for priority matching under specific circumstances.” The voice was clinical, robotic, merely stating facts. “We have a critically ill patient who is a perfect match. His condition is extremely precarious, and he requires an immediate heart transplant. We need you to come to the hospital at once for final compatibility testing and pre-operative preparation.” My own heart felt like it had been plunged into a vat of ice. My blood ran cold. I remembered, years ago, signing that document. The only person who could activate that protocol was the intended beneficiary—her. Or someone she explicitly authorized. Ava. I never, in my darkest nightmares, imagined she would one day try to use my heart to save another man. I hung up the phone without a word. Then I sent a text to a number I’d been in frequent contact with lately. [The timeline has moved up. I can’t wait any longer.]

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