When I learned that my wife, Miranda Shaw, had abandoned me while I was unconscious in the hospital—all to deliver a jacket to her male assistant, Callum York—I asked for a divorce. Miranda agreed instantly. “What’s there to worry about? He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.” That same day, she posted a photo on social media of her and Callum holding hands. The caption read: “For the rest of our lives, you and I are each other’s one and only.” I immediately called my sister, Autumn. “Autumn, buy me a plane ticket home.” “Really? That’s wonderful! You’re finally willing to leave that awful woman! Wait right there—I’ll come pick you up myself!” My sister’s voice on the other end was full of joy. After I hung up, Miranda walked in, reeking of pungent perfume. The hickeys on her neck stung my eyes. “Who was that?” Miranda asked casually, her eyes glued to her phone. She didn’t even glance at me. “Autumn.” A shrill ringtone drowned out my voice completely. Miranda answered immediately. Callum’s voice came through: “Miranda, thank you for bringing me those clothes the other day. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been so embarrassed. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” Seeming to realize the timing was inappropriate, Miranda looked somewhat guilty as she lowered the volume, stood up, and retreated into the study. A self-mocking smile tugged at my lips. We were already in the cooling-off period for divorce. What was I even expecting? I silently cooked myself a bowl of noodles, ate it without a sound, then returned to the bedroom to pack my luggage. An hour later, Miranda finally finished her nauseating conversation with Callum. As usual, she sat at the dining table with a magazine, waiting for me to serve her a hot breakfast. But this time, after waiting and waiting—not even a glass of warm milk appeared—she finally spared me half her attention, visibly irritated. “So what if I didn’t go with you for your checkup? Insomnia isn’t some serious illness.” “The doctor prescribed medication. Just take it on time and you’ll be fine. Why are you being so emotional?” “Besides, I already agreed to the divorce. What more do you want? Are you going to keep giving me that sour face every day?” I stopped what I was doing and looked blankly at this person who used to share my bed. That day after she left, I collapsed at the hospital. If the doctors hadn’t acted quickly, I would’ve already been sent to the crematorium. And afterward, neither I nor the doctors could get through to Miranda’s phone. When I finally did reach her, I heard Callum’s sweet laughter in the background, followed by Miranda’s impatient scolding: “It’s just medical bills. Can’t you figure it out yourself?” In the end, I had to borrow money from a friend to pay the fees. Yesterday when I was discharged, I learned that she’d gone to deliver a jacket to Callum, who was at a business dinner. All because he said he was cold. I asked for a divorce on the spot. “Once we get the divorce decree, you won’t have to see this face anymore.” I thought my distant attitude would please Miranda, since she’d always wanted me to stop interfering in her affairs. But to my surprise, she slammed her magazine on the table and shouted, “You’d better not regret this!” Then she stormed out. Bang! The loud noise didn’t stir a single emotion in me. I had no interest in analyzing her behavior or emotions. I just did my own thing. After sending the revised proposal to my client, I poured myself a glass of warm milk. I was just about to find a movie to watch while taking a bath when a message popped up. It was from Miranda. “Dawn Lounge. Had too much to drink. Drive over and pick me up.” I was about to close the screen when a second message appeared. “You’re still my husband in name. This is your obligation.” I gripped my phone tightly and took several deep breaths before mentally preparing myself to go out. It’s all for a smooth divorce. I can endure this! When I found the private room at the lounge according to the address she’d sent, I heard Miranda and Callum laughing inside. Their voices were like swords stabbing into my heart. I bit down hard, steadied my expression, and pushed open the door. The laughter stopped abruptly.

When Miranda saw me, her expression was startled, her delicate brows knitting together. “Are you following me?” Miranda’s accusatory question made everyone present exchange subtle glances. I pulled up the message screen. “This is the address you sent me.” Callum immediately wrapped his arm around Miranda’s shoulder and said softly, “Miranda, I was worried it wouldn’t be safe for you to go home alone, so I had Dylan come pick you up. I hope I didn’t mess things up by trying to help.” Miranda’s expression softened. Looking at Callum’s anxious face, she smiled indulgently. Watching Callum shoot me a provocative look when no one was watching, and seeing Miranda’s tacit approval, I felt strangely calm. I simply nodded, my attitude cold and distant. Perhaps she was used to my hysterical outbursts in the past. My current silence seemed to make Miranda uncomfortable. For once, she extracted herself from Callum’s embrace and explained in a gentler tone, “Dylan, we were just entertaining clients. Everyone here is either a client or an employee.” I handed her the milk I’d grabbed on my way out. “I know.” Perhaps my arrival had ruined the atmosphere. Soon everyone left in twos and threes. Miranda called a car for Callum and fussed over him with reminders before finally getting into my car and settling into the passenger seat. I started the car silently while she dozed off beside me. Neither of us spoke. When I parked in the underground garage, I got out first and walked toward the elevator. At the corner, Miranda suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me into her embrace. The next second, a car sped past where I’d been standing. For an instant, my heart pounded wildly. “Can’t you watch where you’re going? What if you’d gotten hurt?” Miranda’s voice was urgent as she gripped my hand tightly and positioned me on the inside. Memories of our passionate early days suddenly surfaced. She used to hold my hand like this, protecting me. But at some point, such gestures had disappeared. I’d even forgotten I was once cherished this way. Fortunately, the elevator wasn’t far. When she pressed the floor button, I discreetly withdrew my hand. Miranda glanced at me, seeming to want to say something, but ultimately made no further moves. But the next morning, she surprisingly offered to drive me to work. “I’ll take you.” I yawned and agreed. I’d slept poorly last night, drifting in and out, so I could use the extra rest. However, when I opened the car door, I saw a custom pillow in the passenger seat with a photo of Miranda and Callum making heart shapes together. This was a blatant declaration of ownership. I pointed at the pillow. “So you two take couple photos together?” But what I really wanted to ask about was the photo Miranda had posted on social media the day we filed for divorce—the one of intertwined fingers at a candlelit dinner. I still remembered the caption: “For the rest of our lives, you and I are each other’s one and only.”

My words made Miranda’s face flash with discomfort. All my energy suddenly drained away. Whether out of revenge, showing off, or some other reason, Miranda’s heart had strayed. That was a fact. I gave up on asking further and silently sat in the back seat. Perhaps feeling guilty and awkward, Miranda handed me a pastry. “Have something to eat.” My gaze fell on where she’d retrieved the pastry. That compartment was filled with various cookies and candy, even pungent spicy snacks. “How rare. Your germaphobia is cured?” I admit I was jealous. I was constantly too busy to eat regular meals and needed to keep bread and cookies on hand. Once when I was doubled over with stomach pain, trembling all over, I’d barely taken out my only piece of bread when Miranda snatched it and threw it out the window. That day, Miranda had sternly warned me never to eat anything in her car, not even drink water. Yet now, what she’d forbidden me to do, she allowed another man to do freely. The one who is loved can always be indulged without limit. My sarcasm made Miranda’s face darken. But I didn’t care about her feelings. I turned my head and closed my eyes, pretending to rest. As soon as we arrived at the office, I couldn’t wait to get out. While she parked, I rushed into the elevator ahead of her and went straight to my desk. Countless emails awaited me. I was so busy I didn’t even have time to look up. It’s not that I wanted to stay at Miranda’s company. I just believe in seeing things through to the end, and I still had unfinished work. If I was going to resign, I needed to complete my current projects first. I worked straight through until four in the afternoon, too busy even to order lunch. My stomach was cramping painfully when I finally realized I hadn’t eaten in a long time. I quickly got myself some hot water, returned to my desk to eat some bread, and continued working. Just then, the security guard came in carrying two large bags of snacks, bubble tea, and small cakes. “Miranda ordered afternoon tea for everyone. Come and get some.” The guard’s announcement made everyone cheer. A crowd immediately swarmed over. “Thank you, Miranda! It’s my favorite pearl milk tea!” “Ah, there’s nothing with mango…” “Tsk, be grateful for what you get. Don’t you know Callum is allergic to mango?” People immediately responded with knowing “ohhhs” and some gossips turned their gazes toward me. A new intern spoke thoughtlessly: “I heard Miranda got divorced. Is she going to marry Callum now? She spoils him so much!” Someone immediately yanked her back. “Shut up. Dylan’s right here.” The intern’s face flushed with embarrassment. Someone placed a milk tea and a piece of cake on my desk, saying awkwardly, “The kid was just joking. Don’t take it personally.” I looked at the walnut cake on my desk and pushed it away. “Sorry, I’m allergic to nuts. You can have it.” The person’s face showed awkward embarrassment. Actually, everyone knew I was allergic to nuts, because Miranda had used this tactic against me before. Back then, to prove her love for me, she’d order my favorite matcha cake for the office every day and wouldn’t allow anything nut-related in the office because of my allergy. She’d even order meals delivered to everyone’s desk when I was too busy to eat, then sit in front of me and supervise until I finished. Now, she’d simply switched to a different target. Because Callum was allergic to mango, the company wasn’t allowed to have anything mango-related. The grand romantic gestures she once gave me, she now gave to another man. The office had no shortage of gossip. As many people who used to ship me and Miranda now shipped her with Callum. I wasn’t bothered by it. The work was too demanding for me to spare any attention for irrelevant people.

My current project was nearing completion, and communication with the client was becoming more frequent. The proposal might need revisions two or three times within an hour. I’d been working overtime for nearly a week, and today we’d finally reached the critical final stage. Once I got through this, the project would be complete. I stretched, deciding to treat myself to a nice dinner tonight. But as I raised my arms, I bumped into someone, letting out a startled yelp. I turned around to find Miranda standing there. When had she positioned herself behind me? “Still working overtime?” Miranda didn’t care that my face had gone pale from fright. She asked casually. I didn’t know why she’d suddenly sought me out. I could only try to calm myself. “Miranda, is there something you need?” A flash of displeasure crossed Miranda’s face. She wasn’t used to my distance. But she still reined in her temper. “Transfer the client and project you’re working on to Callum. He needs to build experience.” A chill shot through me. Even knowing how unreasonable Miranda could be, I hadn’t expected her to be this absurd. Seeing my silence, Miranda stepped forward. “There are always rumors in the office. He just graduated not long ago—how can he handle all that? Having this project in hand will shut up those questioning him. You’re the senior here. It’s only right to help newcomers.” I couldn’t help myself. I laughed bitterly and rolled my eyes. Miranda knew perfectly well how many all-nighters I’d pulled for this project. I’d even worked myself into cardiac arrest and had to be rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. But the moment I entered the hospital, she’d been whisked away by a casual phone call from Callum. My life wasn’t even as important as a jacket for Callum. And now, this project I’d fought desperately to complete, she wanted to hand over to Callum with a few careless words. She considered Callum’s feelings, worked to protect his reputation, but never once considered whether any of this was fair to me. “Fine. Have him come for the handoff tomorrow.” Perfect timing to submit my resignation letter. I’d done my duty to this company. As for what happened afterward, with Miranda interfering, I couldn’t control it even if I wanted to. Better to let go gracefully. Miranda seemed surprised I’d agreed so easily. She froze for a moment. But then she was overjoyed, throwing her arms around me. “I was wrong before. I always thought you were petty and stubborn. I didn’t expect you to be so understanding today. Let’s go to that revolving restaurant by the river for dinner. You’ve wanted to go there for ages, haven’t you?” The revolving restaurant by the river? That three-star French restaurant? I’d once wanted to spend our wedding anniversary there, but none of that mattered anymore. Miranda put her arm around my shoulders, her tone much warmer. “We’ve been married for years. What obstacle can’t we overcome? You should work on your temper too. In a couple days, we’ll withdraw the divorce application, and then I’ll go back with you to visit your parents. You haven’t been home in years, right? This time you can stay longer.” I remained silent. She assumed I’d accepted everything and talked enthusiastically, continuing even after I’d saved my files and gotten into the car with her. Sitting in the back seat, I scrolled through social media and discovered Callum had posted a photo from an hour ago. He was wearing a suit, sitting in a spacious outdoor restaurant, elegantly dining by candlelight. Looking at the river behind him, I couldn’t help a self-mocking laugh. So he’d already enjoyed his time there, and Miranda was thoughtful enough—after finishing the first date, she’d deigned to leave her beloved and arrange a second one with me.

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I signed the divorce papers, but Adrian Caldwell thought it was a gift I wanted. After he signed, he pretended to be affectionate and pinched my cheek. “For the baby, I’ll give you anything you want.” He didn’t know our child had already died on the night he accompanied his first love to watch the meteor shower. Those hundred and one missed calls-he dismissed them with “I had work to do.” Later, I stood on the Nobel Prize stage while he lay in a liver cancer ward. His final wish was to see me one last time. I brought my new husband with me. Clarissa Hart POV I had just finished watering the white roses on the windowsill when the lawyer called. “Clarissa, the divorce papers have been sent out as you instructed. Please keep an eye out for them.” “Alright.” I hung up and ran my fingertips over the damp leaves. The doorbell rang. The courier handed me an envelope. I signed for it. The moment I closed the door, the smart lock beeped from the entryway. Adrian was home. He walked up to me and bent down, pressing his cheek against my flat stomach. “I’m back.” His voice was low, laced with exhaustion and apology. “I’ve been so busy these past few days. Didn’t have time to reply to your messages.” I felt his warm breath penetrate my thin loungewear and touch my skin. “Has our baby been good?” I lowered my eyes, looking at the crown of his head. I didn’t move. “Adrian.” I spoke. The man looked up, confusion in his eyes. It had been a long time since I’d called him by his full name. I didn’t meet his gaze. I turned, picked up the envelope from the entryway table, tore open the seal, and pulled out the document inside. I flipped to the last page, covered the terms with my palm, and left only the signature line at the bottom exposed. “This is the gift I want,” I said. “A gift for after the baby is born.” Adrian froze for a moment, then smiled. He took the pen, didn’t even glance at what I’d covered, and signed his name without a second thought. After signing, he returned the document and pen to me, affectionately pinching my cheek. “Once I give it to you, it’s yours,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m not afraid you’ll take everything I own.” I looked at his name on the paper and found it absurd. I didn’t want everything he owned. I wanted freedom. Just then, the phone in Adrian’s pocket began to vibrate. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, the light illuminating his face. Caller ID: Seraphina Quinn. His expression didn’t change. He immediately pressed the power button to silence it and put the phone back in his pocket. “Something urgent at the company,” he said, standing up and adjusting his shirt cuffs. “I’ll go handle it in the study.” He walked toward the study. After two steps, he stopped as if suddenly remembering something. “By the way, why did you call me so many times the other day?” I looked up at him. “It was nothing.” Adrian didn’t press further. He turned and went into the study, closing the door behind him. I was alone in the living room. I looked down at the divorce papers in my hands. Adrian’s signature-sharp and decisive, just like the man himself. Nothing. How could it be nothing? Five days ago, I was driving in the rain when my car skidded and crashed into the guardrail on the elevated highway. Blood flowed from between my legs, staining the light-colored seat. I lay in the ambulance, waves of pain tearing through my abdomen. The baby was slipping away. With trembling hands, I dialed Adrian’s number. I just wanted him to come see the baby one last time. First call: no answer. Second call: no answer. Tenth call. Fiftieth call. One hundred and first call. On the other end, only the mechanical voice of voicemail. Finally, the phone died. I lay on the hospital bed, the sheets cold and hard beneath me. The doctor announced that the baby was gone. As I listened, my heart grew strangely calm. I finally understood. Adrian wasn’t busy. He just didn’t care. While he was rejecting all my calls, he was accompanying his newly returned first love, Seraphina, to an astronomical observatory outside the city to watch a once-in-a-century meteor shower. Seraphina’s Instagram had photos to prove it. In the photo, Seraphina leaned on Adrian’s shoulder, smiling sweetly. The caption read: The meteors are beautiful, and so are you. After four years of marriage, I’d always thought that even if Adrian didn’t love me, at least he liked me. It wasn’t until that moment that I saw the truth. I was just a substitute for Seraphina. A shadow he used to ease his loneliness after his first love went abroad. Now, the original had returned. It was time for the substitute to exit the stage. I picked up the signed divorce papers and gently ran my fingers over the ink that hadn’t yet dried.

Clarissa Hart POV Adrian went into the study. I picked up my phone and called the lawyer back. “He signed.” The lawyer on the other end was clearly surprised, then recovered his professional composure. “That fast?” He paused. “Without expediting, it will take two months to complete all procedures and obtain the divorce decree. Regarding the division of joint assets, we can start drafting a detailed plan at any time.” “No need,” I said. “I’m waiving all property claims. I just want the divorce.” “Miss Hart, are you sure? Based on your prenuptial agreement and the appreciation of your marital assets, you could at least-” “I’m sure.” I cut him off. “Just follow the standard process, Mr. Cooper.” “Alright.” That night, Adrian slept in the study. Early the next morning, Adrian emerged from the study already dressed in a perfectly tailored custom suit. “There’s an urgent early meeting at the company today. I can’t go with you to your prenatal checkup.” He adjusted his tie as he spoke, his tone apologetic. “I’ll bring you your favorite tiramisu tonight to make up for it.” I almost laughed out loud. Prenatal checkup? The baby was gone. What hospital would I go to for a prenatal checkup? On the day of the miscarriage, the doctor told me to stay on bed rest, but I checked myself out less than twenty-four hours after admission. Adrian still didn’t know about any of this. But I just nodded. Adrian finished tying his tie, examined himself in the mirror, and once everything looked perfect, he habitually pointed to his cheek, signaling for me to come over. For four years of marriage, I’d kissed his cheek every morning before he left. I didn’t move. “You’re going to be late,” I said. Adrian paused, turned to look at me, and shook his head with a smile, thinking I was still upset about him sleeping in the study last night. “I’m leaving then.” I went back to my room to change, then took a cab to MIT. It was my alma mater, a place I’d been away from for four whole years. Everything was the same as I remembered, yet somehow different. When I arrived, a lecture in the auditorium had just ended. I walked against the flow of people and heard students around me discussing excitedly and admiringly. “Professor Hudson is incredible. No wonder he’s the youngest tenured professor in the field.” “Yeah, he’s even more handsome in person than in photos. That scholarly demeanor is just mesmerizing.” “During the Q&A, he cited literature I’d never even heard of. I need to go home and catch up on my reading.” I walked into the gradually emptying auditorium and immediately spotted the man surrounded by students and several instructors near the podium. Callum Hudson. He wore a simple white shirt and casual pants, patiently answering the last student’s question. Compared to his student days, he’d shed some youthfulness and gained the composure and confidence of a mature scholar. I was about to leave and contact him later when he had time. The moment I turned around, Callum looked up. His gaze cut through the crowd and found me instantly. The joy in his eyes was unmistakable. He apologized to the students and colleagues around him, squeezed through the crowd, and walked quickly toward me. “Clarissa? Is it really you?” “Callum.” I smiled. After brief pleasantries, I got straight to the point. “Callum, I want to join your research institute.” Callum was stunned, immense joy flooding his eyes. “Of course! If you’re willing to come back, our advisor will be thrilled.” He looked at me, his eyes full of undisguised regret and sympathy. “You were the most gifted student in our department. Everyone thought you’d win the Nobel that year. Then your family forced you to give up your doctorate and walk away from condensed matter physics, all for business and an arranged marriage.” His tone was bitter, indignant on my behalf. “And now?” he asked with some concern. “Your family… will he agree to this?” “I’m getting divorced,” I said. “But it’ll take two months to finalize everything. After that, I can report to the research institute abroad.” “Good.” Callum smiled. “I’ll wait for you.”

Clarissa Hart POV A soft laugh interrupted us. Adrian appeared at the auditorium entrance without warning. He walked over slowly, still wearing that expensive suit, but his face no longer held the warmth from this morning. His expression was dark, his gaze fixed on Callum. For the first time, I saw such undisguised jealousy and possessiveness in his eyes. I was confused. The person he loved was Seraphina. Why bother putting on this devoted act in front of me? “Care to introduce us?” Adrian walked to my side, positioning himself between me and Callum. “This is my friend, Callum, a physics professor at MIT.” After the introduction, I pointed to Adrian, my tone flat. “This is my husband, Adrian Caldwell.” The two men shook hands with composed expressions. But I noticed that when they released their grip, both had clear red marks on the backs of their hands. “Professor Hudson, I’ve heard so much about you.” Adrian smiled without warmth. “I didn’t realize my wife was so close to you that she’d make a special visit when returning to campus.” “You’re too kind, Mr. Caldwell. Clarissa is a once-in-a-century genius in our physics department. We’re friends.” Callum was neither humble nor arrogant, his gaze straightforward. “Callum, I need to go. We’ll be in touch later.” Sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere, I took the initiative to say goodbye to Callum. Adrian and I left side by side without looking back. I didn’t want to cause him trouble, so I didn’t see the loneliness and concern in Callum’s eyes after we turned away. Adrian and I walked out of the auditorium into the sunlight, but the chill radiating from him didn’t dissipate. “What were you doing here?” Adrian demanded coldly. “I just felt like visiting the campus,” I said vaguely, then countered, “What about you? Was your urgent early meeting held at MIT?” Adrian didn’t answer. His expression grew even darker. We reached the parking lot. I habitually walked toward the passenger side. Adrian pressed the unlock button. I was about to open the door. The window slowly rolled down, revealing a delicate, radiant face. It was Seraphina Quinn. She sat in the passenger seat-that position reserved for the lady of the house. My hand froze on the door handle. “I ran into a friend and caught up for a bit,” Adrian said without missing a beat. My gaze landed on the paper bag in his hand. It was red velvet cake from that famous shop behind campus. I remembered it’s was Seraphina’s favorite. His so-called urgent meeting was actually a trip down memory lane with his first love, revisiting their student days together. Seraphina sat in the passenger seat and greeted me proactively, her tone intimate but her posture condescending. “Clarissa, what a coincidence running into you on campus.” She showed no intention of giving up her seat. Instead, she watched me with interest, her eyes carrying a subtle challenge. I silently withdrew my hand, opened the rear door, and got in. Throughout the drive, Seraphina chatted and laughed with Adrian as if I weren’t there, reminiscing about their student days. She even took a piece of cake from the bag and held it up to Adrian’s lips. “Ahhh-” She let out a saccharine sound. Adrian instinctively opened his mouth and took a bite. “Ouch, you bit my finger.” Seraphina withdrew her hand with coquettish reproach, though her eyes and expression were full of flirtation. Through the rearview mirror, Adrian saw me in the back seat, expressionless. I sat quietly against the window, my gaze fixed outside. Panic flashed in his eyes. He awkwardly pushed away Seraphina as she leaned in again. “Clarissa, do you want some?” “No, thank you.” Seraphina immediately seized the opportunity. “Adrian went through so much trouble to buy me this cake back in the day.” She laughed, but her eyes locked onto mine through the rearview mirror. “One time the dorm curfew had already locked the doors, but he climbed out the window anyway.” “He ended up hurting his leg in the fall. He limped for a week-all just to buy this for me.” She went on and on, flaunting all the love and devotion Adrian had once shown her. She was waiting for a reaction. Waiting for me to break down, get angry, or show even the slightest hint of jealousy. But I remained silent. I leaned against the window, watching the scenery fly by outside, my thoughts already far away. I was even thinking about what direction to take for my first research paper. My complete lack of reaction made Seraphina’s provocation fall flat. She had no choice but to give up resentfully. She said to Adrian with sarcastic sweetness, “Your wife is so easygoing. So understanding.” Adrian laughed softly, though his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “She’s very docile.”

Clarissa Hart POV We arrived at the villa. “I have a gathering with Seraphina tonight,” Adrian said through the lowered window to my retreating back. “You’re pregnant, so it’s not convenient for you to go to that kind of place. Get some rest early.” I didn’t turn around. I waved my hand and went inside. In the middle of the night, an unknown number called. “Adrian’s drunk. Come pick him up.” It was Seraphina’s voice. She hung up immediately, then sent an address. A top-tier private club. I decided to go. I wanted to see what other tricks Seraphina had up her sleeve. I changed clothes without putting on makeup, got in my car with a bare face, and drove over. When I arrived, several servers stood outside the private room door, seemingly hesitating about whether to go in. Through the half-open door, I could see the gaudy lights and hear the noise inside. Adrian and Seraphina sat on the central sofa surrounded by people, all of them cheering. They were playing a game where they passed playing cards using only their mouths-an intimate, provocative game. Soon, the card reached Seraphina and Adrian. The crowd began whistling and cheering loudly. Seraphina held the card in her mouth, looked at Adrian with hazy eyes, and slowly moved closer. Closer, even closer. The card fluttered down. Their lips touched. The cheers grew louder, almost lifting the roof. Adrian didn’t push her away. Under the influence of alcohol, he even reached out, cupped the back of Seraphina’s head, and deepened the kiss. His eyes were closed, his expression intoxicated and wild-a look I’d never seen before. I stood outside the door watching him like this, and my heart went completely cold. I was about to leave quietly when Seraphina chased after me, as if she’d known I was there all along. “Did you see?” Seraphina stood before me, triumph written on her face. “Adrian has always loved me. He only married you because your face resembles mine a little, and you’re more docile and easier to control than I am.” She leaned close, her voice dropping very low. “I advise you to abort the baby and get lost while you still can. Otherwise, when he gets tired of you, you’ll be thrown out without a penny and become a laughingstock.” I asked expressionlessly, “Does Adrian know that the ‘girl’ he’s cherished and loved for years is someone as two-faced as you?” With that, I ignored the shock and anger on Seraphina’s face, walked past her, and entered the private room. The room fell silent at once. Everyone stared at me, this uninvited guest who’d suddenly barged in, their expressions varied. I kept my eyes forward, walked to Adrian’s side, and helped up the man who was too drunk to know where he was. His body was heavy, most of his weight pressing on me. I supported him, turned, and left without looking at anyone else. Back in the car, I dumped Adrian into the passenger seat. He leaned against the seat back, mumbling Seraphina’s name incoherently. “Seraphina… don’t go…” I gripped the steering wheel, started the car, and stared at the dark road ahead. “Just wait a little longer.” Just wait a little longer, and I’d be free. When Adrian woke up, his head was splitting. He only had vague memories of the previous night. He only remembered drinking a lot, and that I seemed to have picked him up later. “I didn’t do anything inappropriate last night, did I?” He rubbed his temples, asking nervously. I was changing in the walk-in closet. Hearing this, I just shook my head calmly. “No, you fell asleep after getting drunk.” I finished changing and prepared to go out. “Where are you going?” Adrian grabbed my arm. My coldness unsettled him. “To see Callum.” Adrian’s face immediately darkened. “Stay away from him,” he warned. “Men understand men best. The way he looks at you isn’t right.” I found it ridiculous and retorted, “You look at Seraphina the same way.” Adrian was speechless for a moment. He released my arm irritably, but his tone remained forceful. “I didn’t bring you tiramisu yesterday, so I prepared something else for you…” His words trailed off. A document slid out from the drawer he’d pulled open and fluttered to the floor at his feet. It was the signed divorce papers.

Clarissa Hart POV Adrian was about to look at what it was, but I moved faster. Before he could read the title, I’d already bent down to pick up the document, clutching it tightly to my chest. I protected the document like a treasure. Remembering how I’d held the papers last night, Adrian blurted out, “This is the gift I want.” He laughed, thinking I just cared about this gift that proved his love. “Once I give it to you, it’s yours. Why are you so nervous about it?” I breathed a silent sigh of relief and quickly changed the subject. “What gift were you talking about?” Only then did Adrian remember the actual matter. He pulled out a set of keys from the drawer and dangled them in front of me, a delicate metal pendant hanging from them. “Come with me.” The car drove to a standalone mansion in the wealthy district on the east side of the city. “You said the old house was too oppressive, that you didn’t like it,” Adrian said, leading me inside. “This place is decorated entirely according to your taste.” The house had a modern minimalist design with large expanses of white space and clean lines. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the backyard was filled with white roses. My favorite flower-quiet and pure. He led me upstairs and pushed open the door next to the master bedroom. Inside was a nursery. The walls were a soft beige, thick wool carpet covered the floor, and an oak crib sat in the corner with a handmade cosmic mobile hanging above it. Adrian embraced me from behind, his voice low and tender. “In the future, our child will live here.” He painted an imaginary future. “Let’s give them a name that combines both of ours. As a symbol of our connection. How does that sound?” I listened, looking at everything before me. This should have been the home I’d always dreamed of-with an adorable child and a husband who loved me. If all this had happened before the miscarriage, I would have been moved. But now. Tears fell hot on the back of my hand. Adrian seemed to notice I was trembling. He turned me around to face him, only to see my face streaming with tears. He thought I was moved. He smiled and reached out to wipe my tears. “Silly girl, why are you crying? Don’t you like it?” “Adrian, so this is where you are.” A voice interrupted, breaking the moment between us. Seraphina walked in as if she’d happened to pass by. She surveyed the house, her eyes full of undisguised admiration. “This house is beautiful.” She walked straight to Adrian’s side, linked her arm through his, and made her demand. “I just got back to the country and haven’t found a suitable place to live yet. Give it to me, won’t you?” Adrian’s expression became troubled. “Seraphina, this is for Clarissa-a gift for her pregnancy.” “But I really like it, and I’m in urgent need.” Seraphina tugged on his arm and swayed gently, leaning close to his ear to whisper coquettishly, “Adrian, just give it to me. She’s your wife. You can buy her something even better later. I’m just an outsider without even a place to live. How pitiful.” Adrian hesitated. He looked at Seraphina’s expectant, aggrieved eyes, then at me standing silently beside them. He knew I’d be good. I wouldn’t make a fuss. But Seraphina needed him to coax her, needed him to compensate her. A moment later, he made his decision. “Alright.” He agreed to Seraphina’s request. He turned to me with his promise. “Clarissa, I’m sorry. I’ll buy you an even better house later. Let her stay in this one for now. She just got back and it’s inconvenient for her.” He paused, then added another line. “Besides, the baby hasn’t been born yet. There’s no rush.” That sentence completely crushed the last remnant of hope in my heart. Yes, the baby hasn’t been born yet. No. The baby is already dead. Dead the night he took Seraphina to watch the meteor shower.

Clarissa Hart POV I didn’t object. My opinion no longer mattered anyway. After all, the baby was already gone. Seraphina was delighted and suggested treating us to dinner. She made reservations at a French restaurant known for its privacy. Midway through, Adrian received a work call and got up to take it outside. Only the two of us women remained at the table. The moment Adrian left, Seraphina dropped her pretense. She picked up her wine glass and swirled it gently. “See?” Her tone was smug. “Whatever I want, Adrian will give me. Whether it’s a house or the man himself.” She set down the glass, leaned forward, and dropped her voice to a low, vicious whisper. “Clarissa, I’ll advise you one more time-abort the baby yourself and get lost. Otherwise, when he gets tired of you and kicks you out, you’ll become a joke in our entire social circle.” I cut my steak, my movements uninterrupted. I didn’t even look up at Seraphina. I just felt annoyed and too tired to respond to these provocations. My calm came from genuine indifference. My face showed none of the hurt or anger Seraphina had been expecting, which frustrated her deeply. Just then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Adrian hang up the phone and start walking back. She picked up the steaming cup of coffee on the table. Her wrist jerked, and the scalding coffee spilled all over her arm and chest. “Ah!” She let out a short cry. Adrian’s expression changed. He rushed over in several quick strides. Seraphina collapsed into his arms. Her makeup ran with tears that fell in large drops. She couldn’t form complete sentences, only clutched his sleeve and pointed at me with grievance. “Adrian, I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to talk to Clarissa. Is she angry at me about the house…” This statement was a direct accusation. Adrian immediately turned to look at me, his eyes full of questioning and displeasure. I stood up and met his gaze. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t pour it on her.” But Adrian no longer believed me. He looked at Seraphina crying in his arms with her swollen, reddened arm, then at my expressionless face. His mind was already made up. “I know you’re upset, but you shouldn’t hurt people.” He said nothing more, simply scooped Seraphina into his arms and strode out of the restaurant. “To the hospital.” Late at night, Adrian finally came home. He carried the smell of hospital disinfectant mixed with a hint of perfume. His face was set, his expression stern in a way I’d never seen before. “Go apologize to Seraphina.” He stood before me. “The doctor said she has severe burns. They might scar.” I sat on the sofa, looked up stubbornly, and repeated, “I didn’t do it. I won’t apologize.” I looked at him, searching his eyes for even a trace of trust. There was nothing. “The surveillance footage,” I said. “The restaurant has cameras.” Adrian dismissed it as stubbornness and tantrum, not bothering to consider it at all. “Stop being difficult. Come with me to the hospital.” He reached out directly, grabbed my wrist, and tried to pull me up from the sofa. His grip was strong. He yanked me and I stumbled. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to be humiliated again in front of his friends and the woman he loved. “Let go!” I struggled, trying to shake off his hand. My resistance angered him. His grip loosened momentarily. I fell backward from the momentum. Thud. A dull sound. The back of my head slammed into the marble coffee table. Warm liquid slid down from my temple, covering my eyes. Everything in front of me turned blood red. The pain was so intense it went numb. I couldn’t feel it anymore. Adrian saw that shocking red and his pupils contracted violently. He froze, watching me collapse to the floor, bleeding profusely, his mind blank. A few seconds passed before he snapped out of it. He rushed over in a panic and picked me up, his hands and voice both trembling. “Clarissa! Clarissa!”

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My whole family has amnesia. My dad always forgets to send me my living expenses every month. My mom forgets to pay me back every time I cover something for her. Whenever I remind them, my parents act like they’ve just had an epiphany. “Look at my memory—getting old makes me forgetful.” I always thought they were genuinely getting forgetful with age. Until I accidentally discovered the study abroad fund account my parents set up for my brother. Every single deposit was accurate to two decimal places, and never once delayed. That’s when I realized my parents’ so-called amnesia only applied to me. My parents both have severe amnesia. Every week at the end of the month is my fixed call time with my dad. More accurately, it’s the time when I remind my dad to send my living expenses. “Dad, next month’s living expenses…” This time was no exception. A week had already passed, and my dad still forgot to send my living expenses. The call connected, and I heard the sound of my dad slapping his forehead. “Look at my memory—I forgot again! Dad will definitely transfer it tomorrow, won’t forget this time for sure.” I didn’t say anything. After all, this scene had been playing out in our family for three whole years. Since my freshman year, my dad forgets to send my living expenses every single month. My mom has amnesia too. Every time I advance payment for her purchases, she forgets to transfer the money back to me. Once she had me buy a cashmere sweater for her—the price was $239.90. Another time it was several health supplements as gifts, $63 per box. Recently she had me buy the latest sneakers for my brother—$139.90. … “I don’t have much money on hand right now. You buy it first, I’ll pay you back later, okay?” I paid. But she never transferred the money. The day the cashmere sweater arrived, my mom posted photos in the family chat and @my brother, saying: “What my son picked out is so warm!” When I really had no money left to eat, I tactfully messaged her: “Mom, does the cashmere sweater fit?” She replied instantly: “Perfect fit! I want to buy one for your grandma too. Help me buy another one.” I told her I had no money left. Only then did Mom have her epiphany and say she’d definitely transfer the money next time. But I never knew when “next time” actually was. Right up until three months ago, when I needed appendicitis surgery. Late at night, I curled up on a plastic chair in the hallway clutching my abdomen, cold sweat soaking my shirt. The nurse was urging me to pay the fees. I called my mom. “Mom, I need money right now. I’m at…” Before I could finish, she cut me off.

After leaving the hospital, I kept recalling how many times my parents’ so-called “amnesia” had made them forget over the years. Every time Dad sent living expenses, I had to chase him for it. I never received it until the last moment. My parents weren’t forgetful at all—they just randomly found an excuse to brush me off. Thinking of this, I dialed my dad’s number again. “Dad, you shouldn’t be busy at this time. Please send my living expenses.” The other end was silent for a few seconds, then my dad’s awkward laughter rang out. “Yes, yes, I forgot again. I’ll transfer it to you right now.” “Dad, remember to transfer two thousand. Don’t click wrong like you always do.” I reminded him. My dad hadn’t hung up yet, and hearing this made him cough guiltily. “How could that happen? When you started college, we agreed on two thousand a month.” Yes, that’s what we agreed on, but every month he finds some reason to forget part of it. Dad’s transfer came through, and the call disconnected. I immediately paid back the money my roommate had lent me when I was sick. “Your dad finally remembered to send you living expenses?” My roommate Megan knew about my family situation. I nodded. Before I could figure out how to allocate the remaining money, my brother’s call came through. “I heard Dad sent you living expenses? See, Dad still favors you. When I asked him for money, he didn’t give me any!” I made up an excuse and hung up on him. Usually it went like this—every time Dad sent me living expenses, my brother would call soon after to play the victim, saying he had no money to spend, and I would soften and lend him my living expenses. But my brother has amnesia too. Every time he gets living expenses, he forgets to pay me back. So this time I didn’t want to be a fool anymore. I thought the matter would end there, but who knew that night I’d receive another call from my mom. She rarely calls me. Even when asking me to buy things, she just sends me a link. As soon as the call connected, my mom’s anxious voice came through the receiver: “Willow, why are you so stingy? Did your brother ask to borrow money from you this afternoon?” So that’s what this was about. Before I could answer, the other end continued: “Your dad was good to you and sent you living expenses first. Your brother has no money—why won’t you lend it to him?” Even Dad chimed in: “Fine, next time we’ll take turns sending you siblings living expenses. Don’t you dare ask your brother to borrow money then!” I acknowledged and hung up, having no interest in watching their family of three put on a show. At midnight, my mom sent another link.

“Willow, help Mom buy this. I’ll transfer you the money tomorrow.” I clicked the link. It was Bluetooth earphones, priced at $98.80. I laughed coldly. So because I wouldn’t lend my brother money, Mom would come asking me for money to buy what my brother wanted. I didn’t buy it and didn’t reply. I set my chat with my mom to “do not disturb.” The next evening, Mom actually called again. I answered. Mom’s gentle voice was completely different from when she questioned me yesterday. “Willow, were you busy today?” “What is it?” She seemed not to expect me to become so cold. She laughed dryly, then asked: “By the way, did you buy the Bluetooth earphones for me?” I pretended to suddenly realize: “Oh, I forgot. My memory hasn’t been good lately!” “Then buy it for me quickly. After you buy it, I won’t bother you anymore. Don’t worry, I’ll transfer the money to you later.” I knew very well there would be no transfer. I simply turned off my phone and ignored it. Three days passed. My phone received no messages from them. It was quite peaceful. The holiday was approaching. My roommate Megan curiously came over and asked: “What are you planning to do during the break?” “What else? Go home.” After saying that, Mom’s call came through again. Megan saw the caller ID and kindly reminded me: “Don’t forget to ask your mom for the transfer, or you won’t even have money to buy a ticket home.” I smiled. What she didn’t know was that this time I hadn’t paid for anything for them at all. “Willow, where’s the thing I asked you to buy last time?” I pretended not to understand: “Mom, what thing?” The air froze for a moment before Mom spoke: “The earphones I asked you to buy for me. You didn’t forget, did you?” I hadn’t forgotten, but I also hadn’t bought them. “Oh, I was waiting for you to transfer the money so I could buy them, then I forgot. Mom, is my forgetfulness hereditary?” Even through the phone I could feel her struggling to contain her anger: “Child, what nonsense are you talking about!” Mom quickly changed the subject: “The holiday’s coming soon, right? Don’t forget to buy those earphones when you come back.” I agreed. “Don’t worry, Mom. Leave it to me.” Since that’s how it is, I’ll take advantage of the New Year to give her a big gift.

I saved all the records of my family’s “amnesia” over the years, not just chat screenshots but also link screenshots and my parents’ social media posts. After finishing all this, I couldn’t help but marvel. So over these three years, I’d already bought so many things for the family. Besides the monthly living expenses, I’d even put in quite a bit of money I earned from part-time jobs. Overall, these three years of college I not only self-funded my education but also had to earn money to subsidize the family. Looking at the continuously accumulating numbers on the calculator, I received another text from Dad. “Coming back tomorrow, right? Willow.” I raised the corners of my mouth, looked at the document I’d been preparing on my computer, and replied with one sentence. “All prepared.” The next day after getting off the bus, I received a restaurant address from Dad. They happened to be having a gathering with relatives at the restaurant. I didn’t need to think to know what they were planning—nothing more than wanting me to cover the bill again. What a fine plan. I walked in empty-handed. The conversation at the table stopped abruptly. “Willow’s back! Come sit!” I smiled and took a seat, greeting everyone naturally. Mom kept glancing toward the door. “Willow, the thing I asked you to buy…” Halfway through the meal, my mom suddenly spoke. Now everyone’s eyes turned to me. Dad, his face flushed from drinking, laughed heartily: “Right, right! Last time we asked this child to buy something for the family—she keeps forgetting!” I exclaimed: “Oh my! Look at my memory!” This display instantly changed their expressions. Dad frowned at me, anger barely concealed in his tone: “Child, your mom just reminded you the other day! How could you turn around and forget!” My brother chimed in: “Exactly, Willow. Are you getting dementia at your age?” I didn’t take it seriously: “Probably family heredity. After all, Mom and Dad always forget things too.” One sentence shut them up. Mom could only wave at me: “Willow, go pay the bill. Mom will transfer it to you when we get home.” After speaking, Mom pulled my arm toward the server. I shook off her hand in front of everyone: “I have no money.” Mom froze in place, looking at me incredulously: “What are you saying?” “I said I have no money. I can’t pay the bill.” The atmosphere became awkward. My brother jumped out at this moment: “Willow, can you not be so petty? Mom’s just asking you to cover it temporarily, giving you a chance to show off in front of everyone. It’s not like she won’t reimburse you. Is it really necessary?” After his words fell, relatives also started pointing fingers at me. “That’s right, Willow. You’re in college now. Your tuition and living expenses are all from your parents. Don’t be so stingy.” “It’s just paying a bill. It’s not like they won’t pay you back. Besides, we’re all family—don’t be so calculating.” My dad pointed at my nose and scolded: “Your money all comes from me anyway, doesn’t it? Now asking you to pay a bill—isn’t it still spending my own money?” Mom looked at me with teary eyes: “Willow, I never thought you were this kind of person. I’m just forgetful. How could I not give you money…” For a moment, all the blame pointed at me. I didn’t offer any explanation. I just opened my phone and sent a document to the group chat. “Is it really just forgetfulness?”

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I found a red lace thong tucked into the couch in my husband’s office. I didn’t make a scene or throw a fit. I quietly put it away. On the day of the shareholders’ meeting, I peeled off the one-way window film from his office glass. And so, without any idea what was happening, my husband stripped the intern naked and pressed her against the glass in full view of over 300 shareholders and employees. He loves excitement, doesn’t he? Well, I’ll give him all the excitement he can handle! I went to my husband’s office after a meeting to bring him some cake. The moment I sat down on the couch, something felt off. The couch was warm, clearly just used by someone else. The warm area was bigger than just one person sitting—more like someone had been lying here? I looked closer and spotted a red lace thong wedged between the couch cushions. My head buzzed like thunder, my heart racing wildly. “What’s wrong, honey?” My husband, Nathan Hayes, wrapped his arms around me affectionately. I froze, unable to move. Before I could react, I saw the intern walk in wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse with a neckline so low it exposed half her chest, marked with suggestive traces. She seemed to smile at me provocatively. Combined with the strange sounds I’d heard outside the office door just moments ago… I was completely stunned. In broad daylight—while I’d just been in the conference room next door meeting with department managers—he was fooling around with the new intern, Hannah Lewis, in his office? My heart felt like it had been stabbed with a sharp blade. It hurt so much. “Wow, this cake looks delicious! Mr. Hayes, can I have a bite?” Hannah batted her eyes playfully at Nathan. Nathan smirked and smiled. The familiarity between them didn’t match what you’d expect from a superior and subordinate who’d only known each other for two months. “Go ahead if you want some.” Only after saying that did Nathan glance at me, adding as an afterthought: “Haha, my doctor said my blood sugar’s a bit high, told me to cut back on sweets.” He casually handed the cake to Hannah, his expression relaxed and natural, without the slightest hint of guilt.

I glanced at the dozen or so photos of us kissing displayed on his desk. The tears welling up in my eyes, I forced back down. How could he do this—look at photos of me while messing around with another woman in his office? And that woman was Hannah? I didn’t lose my temper. Clinging to a thread of hope, I held it in until we got home that night. While he was in the shower, I checked his phone. “Honey, tomorrow in the office, wear that lolita-style lingerie set I bought you, okay?” “That depends on whether you can make me climax seven times in one hour.” “No problem. I’ll have you crying by the time you get to work. God, it’s been over two hours since we left work, and I already miss you so much! The moment I wake up, I need to go to the office and kiss you!” “What should we do? I’m so in love with you. How about next week we get matching couple tattoos?” “So bold. Aren’t you afraid your wife will find out?” Even though I’d prepared myself mentally, seeing the actual evidence made all the blood in my body feel like it had frozen solid. My body trembled from the cold. At that moment, Nathan’s phone wallpaper was still our wedding photo. How ironic. “Why are you looking at my phone?” Nathan’s face darkened. Without even wrapping a towel around himself, he rushed naked out of the bathroom and snatched the phone away. “You and Hannah seem pretty close, don’t you?” “Can you not interfere with my freedom? I’m allowed to have friends of the opposite sex.” I smiled bitterly as tears spun uncontrollably in my eyes. When we were dating, he’d directly added my fingerprint to his phone and said, “Feel free to read my messages anytime. Anyone in my contacts you don’t like, delete them.” Five years ago, when he was pursuing me, he sent me a bouquet of roses every single day, saying he wanted to marry me from the moment he first saw me. Three years ago, when we got married, facing my father’s difficult demands—that he marry into our family, that our future children take my father’s surname, that he work late into the night every day and become a qualified successor within three years— he never showed the slightest hesitation or reluctance. Even with a 102-degree fever, he insisted on attending meetings, earning unanimous approval from both old and new company employees. No matter how late his business dinners ran, he always came home. He never stayed out overnight. Our dating anniversary, our wedding anniversary, Valentine’s Day, my birthday—he never forgot any of them. He always carefully prepared a gift for me. Everyone said he was the model of a perfect husband. I didn’t understand. If he treated me so well, why would he cheat? Was it really true that no man could resist cheating? My heart died. My first thought was divorce.

I went back to my father’s house that very night and told Dad that Nathan had cheated and I wanted a divorce. Dad looked down at the documents in his hand, not even lifting his head: “That just proves you’re a woman without charm, unable to keep your husband, so your husband had no choice but to run to another woman’s bed.” My breath caught. My heart grew even colder. Years ago, when he cheated and abandoned my mother, did he say the same thing to her? “Anyway, cheating doesn’t hurt men. As long as he comes home, that’s all that matters.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms painfully, and said word by word: “I want a divorce.” “Don’t even think about it. If you want to blame something, blame yourself for not having children yet. Hurry up and have a baby. Don’t let some woman out there have his child first. Otherwise, you’ll have to split the assets with some illegitimate kid.” My chest felt tight and stuffy. Through gritted teeth, I said: “I’ll agree not to divorce on one condition—give me the CEO position. You originally promised it to me…” With a “whoosh,” Dad grabbed the documents in front of him and violently threw them at my head. “You? A woman? What ability do you have to inherit my company?” “I told you long ago to stop daydreaming!” Looking at the documents scattered on the floor, my heart grew even colder. Those were the annual summary reports I’d stayed up several nights to write. Summarizing my achievements over the past three years. Three years as sales champion. The first year I won sales champion, at the year-end party, Dad had me sit beside him, served me food, and said many encouraging and praising words. The second year I won, he gave me a thumbs up: “Worthy of being my daughter! If you win again next year, Dad’s position will be yours.” This was the third year. Even after he changed the sales policies on me, forcing me to double my performance targets, I still became sales champion. But he went back on his word. “At next week’s shareholders’ meeting, I’m handing the company over to Nathan. Don’t you dare make trouble. Just stay home and have babies like a good girl!” “It was you who insisted on marrying this poor boy in the first place. Otherwise, why would I have bothered training him?” “Dad, why have you never considered training me?” “Train you? What for? A woman should focus on being a good wife and mother at home. What business does she have showing her face in public all the time?” “Back then, if your mother had been worth anything and given me a few more sons, would I need to train an outsider as my successor?” I closed my eyes hard. I didn’t understand. I was his biological daughter, yet he’d rather trust Nathan, a complete outsider, than trust me? Just because I’m not a man?

“Oh honey, why are you so angry? Your blood pressure will go up, and I’ll feel so bad for you.” “Lydia, I’m not trying to criticize you, but Dad’s getting up there in years. Can’t you be a little more accommodating?” Hannah wore the same outfit from earlier that day, her neckline cut even lower now. She burrowed into my father’s arms—a man thirty years her senior. I truly admired her. Servicing my husband during the day, servicing my father at night. Clearly, my father had no idea he was being cuckolded by Nathan. Nathan’s nerve was truly remarkable—he dared touch my father’s mistress? I tested the waters, asking Hannah: “As one woman to another, if you were me and your husband cheated, how would you feel?” Hannah paused, then smiled: “I’d only blame myself for being incompetent.” “I’m not criticizing you, but you’re always busy with work and never bother to dress yourself up. How can you expect your husband to be interested in sleeping with you?” I wanted nothing more than to rush over and slap Hannah across the face right then. But thinking twice, that would be letting her off too easy. Mimicking her manner, I smiled at my father: “Dad, don’t you want to know who Nathan’s cheating with?” Hannah’s brow tightened. She shot me a glare: “Like I said, who doesn’t matter. What matters is you hurry up and give him a baby.” “Besides, you’re probably overthinking it. Look how busy Mr. Hayes is with work, spending all day working overtime in his office. Where would he find time to cheat?” Yes, I never imagined it either. This man who came home every day, who video-called me during lunch breaks, who rarely attended business dinners—I never thought he’d be keeping a mistress in his office. My father’s mistress, no less. As if afraid I’d say more, Hannah pressed her chest directly against my father’s face and cooed: “My birthday’s coming up, darling. What birthday present are you getting me?” “I’ll buy you an island and name it after you.” “Yay! Darling, you’re so good to me!” The two started making out right in front of me. On my mother’s birthday, when she came home, Dad had been rolling around on the couch with a female college student twenty years his junior in exactly the same way. Coincidentally, today was also my birthday. Nathan had forgotten. My father had forgotten too. Fine. If everyone wants to hurt me like this, then let’s all be destroyed together.

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After Serena ran me over with her car, I permanently lost my sense of smell. My daughter’s congenital asthma worsened severely, causing major lung damage. My husband, a top attorney, promised he’d send Serena to prison. But I didn’t find out until the trial day that he’d secretly signed a settlement agreement behind my back. He even defended her in court on another prostitution charge, trying to get her acquitted. I asked him why he would save our enemy. He frowned. “You just can’t smell things anymore. Aria’s asthma can be managed with enough medication. But if Serena loses this case, her whole life will be ruined. Lily, you can’t be so selfish.” From that day on, my daughter and I stopped crying and making a fuss. I even thoughtfully brought him a glass of milk when he was working tirelessly on that defense. Zachary thought we’d finally learned to behave. Until the day he came home early with stomach pain. Outside the study door, he overheard our conversation. “Mom, did he drink that special milk?” “He did. The dosage is steady. It won’t show up on any tests.” “Mom, you said Dad is such a great lawyer. If he ends up a vegetable, can’t take care of himself, can’t even speak clearly, will he still think that woman is innocent?” I smiled slightly. “When he’s completely bedridden, I’ll make him watch with his own eyes as the woman he risked his life to save changes her tune right by his bedside.”

The door burst open. Zachary stormed in, his face dark with rage. “Lily, what the hell did you feed me?!” I didn’t have time to answer. He slapped me across the face. Then his hand clamped around my throat and slammed me against the wall. My vision went black. I let out a muffled cry. Aria screamed “Mommy!” and rushed over, but he kicked her away. Her small body curled up on the floor, her face turning purple-red. I grabbed his hand, tears streaming down my face. “Zachary, your stomach problem is chronic. The doctor said stress can trigger acute attacks…” He sneered coldly. “Then explain to me what you put in my milk.” My heart went cold. “That was the child talking nonsense she learned from TV shows… How could you take it seriously?” Aria’s small face was streaked with tears. “Daddy, I was just talking silly… from a cartoon… I was wrong…” After a long while, he finally released his grip, though his venomous gaze remained locked on me. I slid down to the floor, gasping for air, my heart growing colder and colder. Aria threw herself into my arms, not even daring to sob loudly. “Tomorrow I’m getting a toxicology screening. If anything shows up, I’ll send you and this bastard child to prison together!” Prison? A year ago, Serena hit Aria and me with her car. I held my blood-covered daughter in one arm. With my other hand, I fumbled for my phone and pressed the speed dial. But no one answered. I called again and again. It wasn’t until the seventh attempt that he finally picked up. “We were hit by a car. Aria is bleeding… I can’t move…” But he sounded extremely impatient. “Call an ambulance yourself. Serena is shaken up, I need to stay with her. You two go to the hospital first, I’ll come later.” A passerby called the ambulance. He didn’t show up at the hospital until the next afternoon. Aria was unconscious. I had bandages wrapped around my head. He touched my hair. “Don’t worry. The person who hit you-I’ll make sure she goes to prison.” Later, I discovered that signed settlement agreement. Now, he was using that same calm tone to say he’d send my daughter and me to prison. I almost wanted to laugh. But I lowered my head, letting my hair fall across my face. Zachary stared at me for a few seconds. The fury on his face gradually subsided. He pulled a document from his briefcase and threw it in front of me. “Sign it.” This was a statement certifying that Serena had merely passed by the brothel and had not participated in any illegal activities. I looked up. “This is perjury. If they find out, I’ll go to prison.” “I’m one of the top three criminal attorneys in this city. With me here, what are you afraid of?” He crouched down and gripped my chin. This face had once made me lose my mind with love. Now it only held coldness and unfamiliarity. “If you don’t sign, I can send you to prison right now. If you sign, you’re still Mrs. Bennett. Aria can still attend the best private school, and her targeted medication won’t be stopped.” He didn’t know that Aria hadn’t been to school in three months. Because she could suffocate at any moment, I had to stay by her side constantly. For Aria’s treatment, I needed money. I signed with trembling hands. “Tomorrow morning at nine, come to the law firm to familiarize yourself with the testimony.” He stood up, resuming the appearance of that well-dressed top attorney. “I’m going to the hospital now. You’d better pray the test results come back clean.” The door closed. Aria finally let out her voice and cried loudly. I held her tightly in my arms. I wiped away my tears and opened my phone. The screen reflected my resolute face. Every word Zachary had said while forcing me to sign was recorded. He should be at the hospital by now. But I knew the doctors wouldn’t find anything. Because what I gave him wasn’t any poison you could buy on the market.

The next day, I brought Aria to the law firm. Zachary went through the fake testimony word by word, teaching me how to memorize it. Aria sat beside me, her small hands constantly fidgeting with her dress hem. Midway through, Serena left for a bit. When she returned, her face looked panicked. “Zachary, my diamond brooch is missing. The one you gave me for my birthday last year…” She searched everywhere but found nothing. “Aria was playing outside the conference room earlier…” Aria’s small face went pale. She shook her head desperately. “I didn’t take it…” Zachary walked over and grabbed Aria roughly. I tried to step forward, but he elbowed me back. My head hit the wall with a dull thud of pain. “Hand it over.” “Daddy… I didn’t…” “I said hand it over!” Aria’s coat pocket was violently turned inside out. The diamond brooch fell out. Serena covered her mouth. “Oh my, the child not only steals but also lies!” Zachary’s entire body radiated coldness. “Lily, this is the daughter you’ve raised?!” I pulled Aria behind me. “She never left my sight. You can check the surveillance footage.” Zachary looked at the administrative supervisor. The supervisor looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, the surveillance system has been under upgrade these past few days and hasn’t been restored yet…” “I didn’t steal…” Aria cried out, her wheezing becoming noticeable. “It was the lady… when the lady went out earlier, she stuffed something in my pocket…” “Aria!” Serena raised her voice. “I know you don’t like me, but you can’t lie like this.” She turned to Zachary. “Lily must still resent me for the car accident.” “Even the child has been taught to act this way. She probably hates me to death…” Zachary’s expression grew even darker. “Lily, I think you’ve been living too comfortably. Starting today, all of Aria’s treatment costs and additional expenses are suspended.” My mind exploded with a roar. “Zachary, Aria’s medication can’t be stopped…” “Why can’t it be stopped?” He cut me off. “Hasn’t she managed all these years?” “She doesn’t have ordinary asthma!” My voice trembled. “Her lungs are underdeveloped. Once the targeted medication is stopped…” Serena sighed. “Lily, you’re being so dramatic. The child has been fine all these years. Why would she suddenly die now?” “I think you’re just using the child as an excuse because you want to see me lose the case.” Aria’s breathing began to sound like a bellows. That was the warning before her airway was about to close. I crouched down, frantically searching through my handbag. Then I remembered I’d left the emergency medication on the entryway cabinet. “Where’s the medicine?!” Zachary roared. With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone. My fingerprint slipped three times before the screen unlocked. “I’ll call 911… right now…” The call had just connected when a hand reached over and pressed the disconnect button. “Lily, Zachary is about to go to court. If you cause a scene with an ambulance rushing into the law firm and the media photographs it, what will they write?” Serena took my phone and handed it to Zachary. “Zachary, you can’t be soft-hearted. She’s trying to make a big scene to force you to compromise. The reputation you’ve built all these years can’t withstand this kind of scandal.” The last trace of hesitation in Zachary’s eyes completely extinguished. He took my phone and threw it to the ground. “Lily, do you hate me this much? Enough to destroy my career?” “Zachary!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “Can’t you see?! She can’t breathe!” Serena clicked her tongue. “If you were really worried about Aria, why didn’t you bring her medicine when you left the house this morning?” I didn’t want to argue. I picked up Aria and rushed toward the exit. Zachary blocked my way. “Where are you going?” “The hospital!” I turned around, my eyes bloodshot. “Are you blind?! She’s dying!” Serena stood in front of the door. “Lily, do you have to see me go to prison? How can you be so cruel?!” Zachary’s voice dropped. “You haven’t finished memorizing the testimony. You’re not going anywhere today.” I screamed, tears finally rolling down my face. “Zachary, look at her face! She won’t last until your trial is over!” Aria convulsed in my arms. He snatched Aria away and pushed me back into the chair with his other hand. “I want you to sit here and memorize the testimony. Until you finish, neither of you is leaving.” Aria was placed on the sofa. Her small body curled up, her face already turning a dark purple. My heart felt like it was being sliced by knives. I fell to my knees. “I’m begging you, take her to the hospital… I’ll memorize the testimony right now, I promise word for word… I’ll do whatever you want… please…” Zachary kicked me in the shoulder with disgust. My whole body fell backward, the back of my head hitting the corner of the conference table. Warm liquid flowed down my neck. Through my blurred vision, I saw Aria’s eyes losing focus. Darkness swallowed everything.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying in a hospital bed. I jerked my head around. Aria was on the bed next to me, sleeping, her chest rising and falling steadily. “You’re awake?” Zachary’s voice came from beside the bed. Only then did I notice him sitting there, with faint dark circles under his eyes. He looked at me, his eyes full of guilt. “Aria was resuscitated. Don’t worry.” I turned back to look at Aria, tears streaming endlessly. Seven years ago, Zachary wasn’t yet Attorney Bennett. When I had severe morning sickness, he’d run across half the city in the middle of the night to find the pickles I craved. The day Aria was born, he held that wrinkled daughter of his with trembling hands. “Lily, thank you both… for coming into my life.” But what about later? Later he became Attorney Bennett. Serena came back. After that came the car accident. The settlement agreement he signed. The kick he landed on my shoulder. “Lily…” Zachary reached out his hand, wanting to touch my face. I instinctively dodged. His hand froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry. I was too anxious at the time. Serena’s case is under a lot of pressure, I…” Before he could finish, his phone rang. His expression changed slightly. He stood up and walked to the window, lowering his voice to answer. “Serena? Don’t cry, speak slowly… You fell? How serious is it? I’ll come right away.” After hanging up, he walked back to the bed and picked up his suit jacket. “Serena fell at home. She’s emotionally devastated. I need to go check on her.” “I’ve already paid the medical bills. The doctor said Aria can be discharged tomorrow.” He was about to leave. I felt very tired. But I still spoke up. One last time. “Zachary, tonight, stay here. Stay with Aria.” I paused, then added the words I’d rehearsed countless times in my heart but never spoken aloud. “If you walk out that door today, there will never be any possibility between us again.” He looked away. “Serena is alone, and she’s injured… I can’t just leave her.” I watched him walk out of the hospital room, his figure disappearing around the corridor corner. I leaned against the headboard. I didn’t cry. I would never shed tears for him again. The next morning, I handled the discharge procedures myself. Back home, I changed Aria’s clothes and gave her medication. “Mommy, is Daddy not going to want us anymore?” I crouched down. “If Mommy separates from Daddy… would you be willing to live with Mommy?” She stretched out her small arms and wrapped them around my neck. “I’ll stay with Mommy. I only want Mommy.” This answer severed the last thread of hesitation in my heart. The night before the trial, Zachary finally came home. I was sleeping in the master bedroom with Aria. I heard movement but didn’t get up. The next morning, I was woken by pounding on the door. When I opened it, camera flashes lit up like lightning. Serena rushed forward and grabbed my hand. “Where’s Zachary? He promised he’d appear in court. How could he do this… What about my case…” I pulled my hand back. Before I could speak, Zachary rushed out. “What’s all this noise…” Then he saw Serena’s tears and the camera flashes. He turned to glare at me. “Lily! What did you feed me last night?!” The flashes intensified. “Mr. Bennett! Are you saying your wife drugged you?” “Is it a domestic dispute that caused you to miss the trial?” “Have you given up on Ms. Serena’s case?” Serena cried even harder beside him. “Lily might have just been confused for a moment…” Strangely, I felt no panic at all. Zachary turned to the cameras. “I will petition the court to prohibit my wife Lily from having any contact with this case in any form. Her mental state and actions do not qualify her as a witness.” “As for our domestic affairs, I’ll handle them privately. Now, please leave.” The media was half-pushed, half-escorted out. Before leaving, Serena glanced at me, smugness hidden in her eyes. Zachary got dressed and coldly threw out a sentence. “You and Aria stay home for the next few days. Don’t go anywhere.” After the front door closed, I walked into Aria’s room. She sat on the bed, fiddling with the children’s watch on her wrist. The watch suddenly emitted a faint sound. Serena’s voice. “Lily is too emotionally unstable now. Having her testify is too risky. She has to be removed.” Zachary’s voice carried fatigue. “TThe way she is now, she really isn’t suitable. Serena, handle the media yourself. Last time, didn’t she say I poisoned her? Since she opened that door first, let’s… push it in that direction.” The recording stopped there. Aria looked up. “Mommy, this is what Daddy and that lady said outside the door when you were sleeping in the hospital bed. I pressed the wrong button and recorded it.” I held the watch, my fingers burning hot.

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On Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend Ethan Walker gave me a pair of plastic earrings he’d bought from a thrift shop, claiming they were from Tiffany’s. I knew right away. Another one of his tests. A while back, Ethan had put me through 99 tests. “Hazel, once you pass all the tests, we’ll get married.” I thought it was just his quirky way of showing affection, so I agreed. But then his tests kept getting more and more outrageous. This time, I really couldn’t take it anymore. “These earrings are obviously fake. You seriously want to give me this for Valentine’s Day?” As soon as I finished speaking, a woman suddenly appeared behind him. “See? I told you she doesn’t really love you. She can’t even take a little disappointment!” The woman who suddenly appeared was named Kira. She was Ethan’s best friend. Also the person I hated most. Because she was always texting Ethan late at night, asking him to go out gaming or drinking, completely oblivious to basic boundaries. I’d brought it up with Ethan many times, asking him to keep some distance from Kira. But he always brushed me off impatiently. “We’re just friends. Stop being so petty.” So I kept putting up with it. Again and again. Now Kira slid right between us, casually hooking her arm around Ethan’s neck and pressing herself against him, completely ignoring me-his actual girlfriend. “You should really thank me. If it weren’t for the tests I came up with, how would you ever see what a gold-digger she really is!” Her words left me frozen, my mind completely blank. Only one sentence kept echoing in my head. She came up with the tests? So this wasn’t Ethan’s quirky romantic gesture. It was Kira’s idea? I stared at Ethan, finally squeezing out a complete sentence. “Is what she said true? All those tests were her idea?” Ethan looked completely indifferent, answering casually. “Yeah. I thought Kira had a point. I need to test you more, see if you really love me. You did pretty well on the earlier ones. Why can’t you pass this one? It’s just a pair of fake earrings. You can’t even accept that? Guess you don’t love me as much as I thought.” His words were light, but each one cut straight through me. Kira beside him laughed wildly, reaching out to playfully poke his face. “I told you before, but you didn’t believe me. Takes a woman to know a woman. She acts all sweet and understanding, but she doesn’t really love you at all.” Ethan’s gaze unconsciously drifted to Kira, sweeping over her chest. “You call yourself a woman? I honestly couldn’t tell.” Kira pretended to be offended and lightly hit him. “What’s that look for? I’ve got a way better figure than Hazel. Don’t believe me? Go ahead, touch.” As she spoke, Kira leaned into Ethan’s arms. And Ethan actually raised his hand, reaching for her. At that moment, I really couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” Ethan’s hand froze mid-air. He and Kira both turned around, looking at me with surprise. Looking at the two people being so intimate before me, my emotions finally exploded. “Ethan, is love something you’re supposed to test?” “I always thought you were joking. I compromised again and again, tolerated again and again. I never imagined you were actually serious! Don’t you think this is insulting and trampling on my genuine feelings?” Ethan frowned with displeasure. “Is it really that serious, Hazel? We’ve barely gotten anywhere with testing you. Kira and I planned even tougher tests. You’re already upset? Come on.” Even tougher tests? I instinctively stepped forward, pressing him. “What tougher tests?”

Ethan’s eyes shifted. He avoided my gaze, casually changing the subject. “Nothing important. Anyway, since you don’t like this gift, you failed this test. I’m telling you-you only have two chances left.” “Two chances? What do you mean?” Kira crossed her arms, smugly taking over. “Oh right, I forgot to tell you. For the 99 tests Ethan set up, if you fail 3 of them, the whole thing is considered a failure. When that happens, Ethan will break up with you.” These words shocked me again. His tests involved breaking up with me? I was shaking with anger. Just as I was about to confront Ethan, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around to see a group of people approaching-all childhood friends of Ethan and Kira. Seeing Kira’s arm hooked around Ethan’s neck, the group started teasing. “Get a room, you two! Hugging that tight right in front of Hazel, pretty bold move!!” “Hazel, don’t take it too seriously. Kira’s just naturally flirty. She’s like this with everyone. No hidden meaning.” “Yeah, seriously. Come on, let go already. Can’t you see how upset Hazel looks? Don’t make her mad.” Only then did Ethan slowly remove Kira’s arm from his neck and look at me. “We’re going out drinking tonight. You should head home first. Don’t bother coming along, you’ll just get jealous watching me and Kira hang out. Such a hassle.” After saying this, he didn’t even glance at me again before turning and walking away. Only I remained standing there, still holding those cheap secondhand earrings. I couldn’t help lowering my head and laughing bitterly at myself. Ethan was my first boyfriend. Before meeting him, I’d never been in a relationship. I thought if I gave my whole heart, I’d receive equal love and cherishing in return. But I never imagined my first love would be such a scumbag. I shook my head and walked home in a daze. After getting home, I didn’t hesitate for a second and started packing my things. I didn’t need to wait for Ethan to break up with me. I wasn’t playing his testing games anymore. Love was never meant to be tested. Real love is trust and respect. Their so-called tests were a defilement of genuine feelings. Just as I finished packing and was about to leave, I heard noise at the front door. I walked over and opened it to find the smell of alcohol hitting me in the face. Standing at the door was Ethan, completely drunk. His face was flushed red, barely able to stand. Seeing me open the door, he went limp and collapsed into my arms. His weight made me stumble backward, nearly falling. Looking at him completely wasted in my arms, I could only help him inside. This was his house, after all. I couldn’t just leave him at the doorway. Gritting my teeth, I helped him to the bedroom and dumped him on the bed. Ethan lay sprawled on the bed and noticed the suitcase by the bed. He looked at me groggily. “Hazel, what are you doing? Are you leaving?” I didn’t answer, turning to leave. But the instant I turned around, Ethan suddenly reached out and grabbed me. “Hazel, don’t go.” “Today was my fault. I shouldn’t have lied to you. Don’t be angry, okay? Stay here with me.” His words softened my heart, and my determination to leave wavered slightly. “Don’t go, Hazel. Don’t leave me…” He kept mumbling these words, holding my hand tightly. I sighed and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, quietly watching him. Before long, after saying these words, Ethan tilted his head and fell into a deep sleep.

I temporarily abandoned my plan to leave tonight, thinking I’d talk things through with him properly tomorrow once he sobered up. If he could genuinely apologize and cut ties with Kira. Maybe I’d be willing to give him one last chance. After all, I truly had loved him. In my drowsiness, I also fell asleep. Early the next morning, I slowly opened my eyes, my consciousness not yet fully clear. But the next second, the scene before me made my pupils shrink instantly, and I couldn’t help letting out a scream. “Ah!” On the bed I shared with Ethan lay a third person. Kira! She was sprawled out carelessly, one leg draped over Ethan’s body, her head pressed tightly against his chest. And Ethan, who had held my hand so tightly last night-that hand was now resting on Kira’s waist, holding her. My scream woke the two sleeping people. Ethan rubbed his eyes, his voice full of irritation at being woken. “Why are you screaming so early in the morning? You scared me!” I pointed at Kira on the bed, my hand trembling uncontrollably. “What is she doing here? When did she come in?” Kira looked completely unconcerned. She threw off the covers and started getting dressed, her movements as natural as if she were in her own home. “Last night I remembered Ethan’s lighter was still in my bag, so I wanted to bring it back to him. I’ve known his door code forever, so I just let myself in. What’s the big deal? Look how scared you are.” “Then why did you sleep in our bed?” Kira’s eyes shifted, deliberately looking at Ethan with a provocative smile curling her lips. “To test you, of course. To test how jealous you get, whether you can accept me sleeping in the same bed as Ethan.” Was she even speaking English? Why couldn’t I understand her? Ethan actually nodded in agreement, looking at me approvingly. “Right. Kira and I grew up together. Even after we get married, I’ll still hang out with her every day. You need to learn to accept it.” Hearing these words, I was actually laughing from anger. What had I done to deserve meeting these two people? I thought this was outrageous enough, but Ethan’s next words completely shattered my understanding. “You can’t accept this test either, can you? Then you only have one last chance. If you can’t pass that final chance, we’re breaking up.” Actually, I already wanted to break up with him right now. But I wanted to know what other outrageous tests they had planned, so I asked. “What else are you planning to test me on?” Ethan heard my question and glanced at Kira, signaling her to answer. Kira finished dressing and spoke slowly. “The next test is simple: prove that Ethan is the most important person in your life. For example, if your mom and Ethan both fell into the water, who would you save? Or would you be willing to transfer all your family’s assets to him? Only then can you prove you truly love him.” I couldn’t believe my ears. My relationship with Ethan was between the two of us-why did they need to drag my family into it? Ethan beside her also nodded in agreement. “Kira’s right. Only if you’re willing to give up everything for me can you prove your love.” Looking at his arrogant face, the last trace of softness in my heart completely vanished. I looked at him and questioned him word by word. “Why do I have to prove my love? What about you, Ethan? How do you prove you love me?” Ethan sneered, looking at me arrogantly. “Why should I have to prove it? Hazel, get this straight. In this relationship, you’re the one who can’t leave me. You’re the one who’s been clinging to me, insisting it has to be me. So naturally, you’re the one who needs to prove your love. Otherwise, why would I give up my free lifestyle for you?”

So from the very beginning, it was all my one-sided wishful thinking. He didn’t care about or cherish my love at all. He even needed to test me before being with me. I shook my head and sighed. I didn’t want to hear another word from them. I stood up directly. “I’m not participating in your tests anymore. I’ll never accept them. Ethan, let’s break up.” Hearing me suggest breaking up, Kira immediately jumped down from the bed. “You can’t accept this? You’re being way too petty! We didn’t do anything-we just slept in the same bed. Does it really need to escalate to breaking up? After you marry Ethan, does he have to belong only to you? Hazel, you’re way too selfish!” And Ethan frowned as if I were being completely unreasonable. “Weren’t you pretty easygoing before? No matter what Kira and I did, you never got angry. Why have you become so petty now?” Before? Before, they’d never blatantly lain in the same bed together! I was too lazy to waste another breath on them. Every additional word felt like it was dirtying my mouth. I stepped around them and grabbed my suitcase, preparing to leave. Ethan stood there without even making a move to stop me. As if I were just throwing a tantrum and would soon come back obediently to apologize. “Stop making a scene. Really, nothing happened. What are you even angry about? If you keep this up, I really won’t care anymore. Don’t come begging me later.” Even at this point, he still thought I was speaking in anger. Well, it made sense. The old me had been too foolish, too attached to this first love. So no matter how many times he and Kira crossed boundaries, I always endured it. But this time, I truly wouldn’t endure it anymore. I walked to the door and opened it, preparing to leave. Just then, Kira suddenly rushed forward, grabbing my arm and whispering in my ear. “Hazel, if you’ve got any backbone, don’t come back. Let me tell you-as long as I’m by Ethan’s side, he’ll always have eyes for me. You’ll never compare to me.” I shook off her hand and turned to look at her. “Is that so? If he really had eyes for you, why haven’t you two gotten together already? I’d say it’s because Ethan thinks you’re free and useful-he doesn’t have to invest any genuine feelings or give you any status, so he just keeps you around.” My words hit Kira’s sore spot. Her expression instantly turned ugly, and she started frantically defending herself. “What are you so smug about? Ethan and I got together when we turned eighteen! We’ve already slept together! As long as I want, we can be together anytime. You’re just a joke between us!” Got together when they turned eighteen? These words drilled into my ears, making me physically sick. I’d always thought they were just childhood friends. I never imagined they already had this messy relationship, yet they acted innocent in front of me every day, playing me for a fool. I turned back to look at Ethan in the bedroom. He was irritably rubbing his head, looking completely indifferent. “Then I’ll wait and see. Without me getting in the way, let’s see if you two can actually get together.” After saying this, I didn’t stay another second. I left. Walking out of Ethan’s place, I pulled out my phone and called my mom. The moment the call connected, Mom’s voice came through. “Hazel, what’s wrong? Did you fight with Ethan again?” I took a deep breath, forcing down the lump in my throat. “Mom, remember that arranged marriage you mentioned? I’ll do it.”

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I came home early from a business trip and found the guest bedroom door locked from the inside. My wife Kingsley frantically blocked my way. “That’s for my mom. She’s a light sleeper—don’t wake her up.” But her mother had just left for a world tour last month. I nodded and turned toward the study. I opened the home security system I’d just installed a few days ago. On the screen, a strange man lay on the guest bedroom bed. And there was my wife in sexy lingerie and black stockings, riding that man hard, hips thrusting up and down. I sent the surveillance footage directly to our family group chat. Then I dialed property management. “Hello, there’s an intruder in my home, hiding in the guest bedroom. Please bring a few security guards up.” After I hung up, the living room fell deathly silent. Kingsley tried to rush over and explain, but I froze her in place with a single look. The doorbell shattered the fragile quiet, urgent and loud. Several uniformed security guards stood at the door—tall, imposing men holding riot control forks, their expressions serious. Kingsley’s face instantly drained of color. She rushed over like a madwoman and pressed her body against the door to keep it shut. “You can’t come in! That’s my cousin! He’s sick and recovering at my place!” She screamed herself hoarse, as if that could turn her lies into truth. I laughed coldly and addressed the head security guard. “We don’t have any cousin like that.” The security captain frowned and spoke in a businesslike tone. “Ma’am, please cooperate. We need to open the door and verify the situation.” “No! This is my home! What right do you have to barge in!” Kingsley clung to the doorframe, her nails nearly embedding themselves in the wood. I didn’t want to waste more words on her, but out of consideration for her last shred of dignity, I didn’t show the explicit sex tape to outsiders. Instead, I pulled up another video. This other video was enough to prove her infidelity. I turned my phone screen toward the security guards and pressed play. In the clear surveillance footage, Kingsley was tenderly spoon-feeding soup to that strange man, her eyes filled with care and love—a hundred times more intense than anything she’d ever shown me. This was the same video I’d sent to the family group chat. The security captain’s expression immediately changed from professional to a mixture of contempt and seriousness. He said nothing more. With a gesture, two guards stepped forward and effortlessly pulled Kingsley away from the door. She screamed and struggled like a fish thrown onto shore. “Bradley! You bastard! You can’t do this to me!” The guest bedroom door was unlocked with a key. A pale, sickly-looking man wearing my pajamas stared at the scene in terror. At the same time, my phone began vibrating wildly. I didn’t need to look to know—the family group chat had exploded. [Bradley’s Home Security]: Video.mp4 My dad: [What’s going on?!] My mom: [Who is this man? Why is Kingsley taking care of him?] Mother-in-law: [Bradley, what’s the meaning of this! Are you spying on my daughter?!] Father-in-law: [Kingsley! Call me back immediately!] The screen flooded with exclamations and questions. Right in front of everyone—including Kingsley restrained by security and the terrified man—I made another call. This time, to 911. “Hello, I need to report something.” “A strange man entered my home. My wife is harboring him and illegally transferring marital assets.” My voice wasn’t loud, but in the deathly quiet room, each word landed like a hammer blow. Kingsley’s sobbing stopped abruptly. She stared at me in disbelief, her expression shifting from resentment to fear. She finally understood—I wasn’t joking. I was personally putting her on the path to ruin.

The police sirens pierced through the upscale neighborhood’s tranquility. Neighbors poked their heads out, pointing and whispering as police escorted Kingsley downstairs. Her hair was disheveled, tear tracks marked her face, and as they led her away, her eyes burned with resentment and confusion, fixed intensely on me. I followed behind, expressionless, to the station to give my statement. The interrogation room’s lights were blindingly white. Kingsley sat across from me, crying pitifully, beginning her performance. “Officer, he’s my senior schoolmate, his name is Howard. He’s not a bad person.” “His business failed and debt collectors beat him up. He came to me because he had nowhere else to go.” “I just took him in for a few days out of kindness. We’re completely innocent!” Then she started accusing me. “Bradley, we’ve been married three years. You don’t trust me at all? Over such a small matter, you actually called the police! You’re so cold-blooded!” Just then, the interrogation room door burst open. My in-laws rushed in, faces full of fury. My mother-in-law pointed at my nose and cursed. “Bradley, have you lost your mind! Do you have no conscience!” “Kingsley was just soft-hearted, and you had to blow this up, completely humiliating her! Where does that leave our family’s reputation!” My father-in-law’s face was dark. “Can’t you be more magnanimous as a man? Did you really need to handle it this way?” I remained silent throughout, letting them vent, watching this farce like an outsider. When they’d tired themselves out and their voices went hoarse, the officer finally tapped the table. “Family members, please remain quiet. We’re conducting an investigation.” It was my turn to give my statement. I calmly recounted the facts. “I don’t know this man named Howard.” “I came home from a business trip and found him hidden in my house by my wife. My personal safety and property are seriously threatened.” I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and displayed page after page of transfer records to the officer. “Over the past three months, my wife Kingsley, without informing me, has transferred a total of two hundred thousand dollars to this Howard’s account.” The numbers on the screen were particularly clear under the harsh lights. My in-laws’ curses caught in their throats. They stared at my phone, their faces turning from flushed to deathly pale. I addressed the officer, enunciating each word clearly. “I suspect they conspired to defraud me of my assets with intent to illegally possess them.” Kingsley completely broke down. She screamed. “Bradley, you’re slandering me!” “That’s our marital property too! What’s wrong with me spending my own money!” That statement exploded like thunder in the interrogation room. The officer’s expression grew serious. My in-laws looked at Kingsley, their eyes filled with shock and despair. She had personally admitted to her last possible escape route.

By the time I left the police station, it was late at night. The city’s neon lights were nothing but cold patches of color to me. I didn’t go home. Instead, I made a call from my car. “Wade, it’s me, Bradley.” On the other end was my longtime friend, one of the top divorce attorneys in the industry. “I want a divorce. I don’t want to wait another second.” Wade didn’t ask questions. He just said one word: “Okay.” I sent him everything—cloud storage links to the surveillance footage, complete screenshots of bank transfers, and the police report receipt—all in one package. “I have one requirement. Make her leave with nothing and recover all transferred assets.” “Understood.” The next day, I still didn’t go home. Every inch of air in that house made me sick. Wade’s efficiency was astonishing. At three p.m., he showed up at my front door carrying a briefcase. My mother-in-law answered. Her face still bore traces of exhaustion and anger. Kingsley and my father-in-law were also in the living room. The family probably thought I’d sent a lawyer to “negotiate” or “settle.” When my mother-in-law saw Wade, she tried to assert her authority as an elder. “Are you Bradley’s lawyer? Why doesn’t he dare come himself? Tell him to come talk to us!” Wade adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and smiled politely but distantly. “Hello. Bradley doesn’t want to see Kingsley right now.” He walked straight into the living room and placed a document on the coffee table. “Bradley has retained me to handle his divorce from Kingsley. This is the divorce agreement. Please review it.” “Divorce?” Kingsley shrieked, rushing over to grab the papers. When she saw the bolded words “Party B voluntarily relinquishes all marital property division” and “leaves with nothing,” she threw the agreement on the floor. “Why! What gives Bradley the right!” “The house was bought after marriage! He started his company after marriage! Why don’t I get anything!” Wade bent down to pick up the agreement, dusted off nonexistent dirt, and spoke in a tone as calm as reading legal statutes. “According to Article 47 of Marriage Law, if during divorce one party hides, transfers, sells, or damages marital property, or fabricates debts to encroach on the other party’s property, that party may receive less or nothing when dividing marital assets.” He paused and looked at the pale-faced Kingsley. “Ms. Kingsley, you privately transferred two hundred thousand to Mr. Howard. We have complete bank statements and surveillance footage as evidence, sufficient to prove your conduct to the court.” He added another line—this was the real killing blow. “Additionally, regarding Ms. Kingsley harboring Howard and suspected joint embezzlement of company assets, Mr. Bradley reserves the right to pursue criminal charges.” The four words “criminal charges” pressed down on Kingsley’s family like four mountains, suffocating them. My mother-in-law finally couldn’t hold on. She tried playing the emotional card, her voice softening. “Bradley… counselor, please tell Bradley that Kingsley just made a foolish mistake. They were husband and wife—he can’t be so heartless!” Wade maintained his professional smile and delivered a devastating line. “Mr. Bradley asked me to convey a message.” “He said he gave you a chance.” “When he asked if your mother was in the guest bedroom, knowing full well his mother-in-law was on a world tour.” This light, casual statement left Kingsley completely stunned. The color drained completely from her face. She swayed and collapsed onto the sofa. So from the moment I turned into the study, it was already over.

When my father-in-law called, I was in my office reviewing project reports. His tone was no longer the anger from the police station, but a condescending firmness. “Bradley, come home tonight. Let’s sit down as a family and talk this through properly.” “Don’t bring the lawyer. This is a family matter.” I agreed and gladly accepted the invitation. But I brought Wade, and I brought a projector. At my father-in-law’s house, all the lights were on. My relatives, their relatives—the living room was packed full. This setup looked like a family trial. As soon as I walked in, Kingsley rushed over, crying pitifully, her makeup smeared. “Bradley, I was wrong. Please forgive me this once, okay? Let’s not get divorced…” I sidestepped her. She stumbled and fell to the floor, crying even harder. One of her relatives, Margaret, said condescendingly: “Bradley, look at you, treating Kingsley like this.” “Men need to be broad-minded. Who hasn’t made mistakes? You should be forgiving when you can.” “Besides, Kingsley only fed that man chicken soup. They didn’t do anything inappropriate.” I laughed coldly inside. Nothing inappropriate? They didn’t know I still had the video of Kingsley and that man having wild sex. My mother-in-law chimed in: “That’s right. Making a scene at the police station, and now you want a divorce. If word gets out, where does that leave both our families’ reputations? Kingsley’s reputation is ruined too.” The persuasive voices buzzed around like flies. My father-in-law cleared his throat, delivering the final summary. “Bradley, we called everyone here today as witnesses. Kingsley knows she was wrong, and you should cool down. Let this matter pass. We’re still family going forward.” I waited until everyone finished speaking before slowly opening my mouth. “Are you all done?” Ignoring their stunned expressions, I set up the projector on my own, pointing the white screen at the wall. “Since this is a family trial, let everyone see what the truth really is.” I pressed play. What appeared on the screen wasn’t the footage of Kingsley feeding soup. It was another surveillance clip. The time stamp showed the second night of my business trip. In the bedroom, Kingsley wore sexy lingerie, drinking my rare wine collection with that man Howard. Kingsley laughed and said, “Bradley’s just a block of wood. All he knows is making money. He has no sense of romance at all, not like you—you understand art, you understand romance.” Howard put his arm around her shoulder. “Once I get back on my feet, we’ll travel the world together and live the life we want.” Kingsley leaned into his embrace, her face filled with longing. “Well, you’d better hurry. I don’t want to look at that poker face anymore.” “Don’t worry. Once I get half the shares of his company, we’ll be free.” Then Howard kissed her mouth and tore her black stockings. Kingsley blushed and straddled Howard’s lap. Slowly, the two began making shameless moaning sounds. Kingsley even shamelessly said, “Cum inside me, make me pregnant please.” The living room fell instantly silent. The relatives who’d just been urging me to be magnanimous sat dumbfounded, their expressions more colorful than a palette. Kingsley’s face couldn’t be described as merely pale—it was the gray of death. My father-in-law and mother-in-law’s bodies trembled slightly. I turned off the projector. My voice wasn’t loud, but clear enough for everyone to hear. “From today on, all joint cards and supplementary cards under our names have been frozen.” I looked at Kingsley and said, word by word: “Your expenses are now your own responsibility.” Then my gaze turned to my father-in-law, who could barely stand. “I forgot to tell you. That biggest order your company got last quarter—I arranged it through my mentor’s connections.” “I’ve already spoken with their CEO. The partnership ends here.” My father-in-law shot to his feet, pointing at me, lips trembling, unable to utter a single word. I helped up my parents, who had remained silent throughout, and headed for the door. Behind me came Kingsley’s desperate wails and my father-in-law’s furious roars. I didn’t look back. When cutting weeds, you must remove the roots.

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The hospital had limited parking, so to make dialysis treatments more convenient, I rented an exclusive parking spot near the hospital at a premium price. But my wife’s childhood sweetheart always came crying to me on rainy days, begging me to give up my spot, saying his asthma meant he couldn’t get wet in the rain. I refused: “There’s a public parking lot right next door. It’s just a few extra steps. Why do you need to take mine?” When my wife found out, she was furious: “Can’t you be a little more compassionate? His asthma attack almost killed him on the road!” I was confused: “He has a car but won’t use it. He insists on getting soaked to steal my parking spot, and that’s somehow my fault? Besides, it’s an exclusive spot. I paid for it. First come, first served.” My wife fell silent: “I’m sorry. I was too worried.” For the next few months, she drove me back and forth without fail, rain or shine. But on the day I needed emergency treatment for acute kidney failure, she drove me around for three hours, deliberately missing the optimal treatment window. On the hospital’s big screen, she stood embracing her childhood sweetheart with a cold smile: “Didn’t you say first come, first served? Well, there’s no dialysis bed available now. Let’s see how long your life has to wait in line.”

A sharp pain tore through my kidneys. I grabbed my wife Kate’s arm desperately: “Kate, quick! Get me to the hospital. I feel like I’m dying!” She violently shook off my hand and sneered. “What’s the rush? When Pedro had his asthma attack, he was in a hundred times more pain than you are now.” The car suddenly braked hard. I looked out the window—this wasn’t the hospital. It was a deserted underground parking garage. Complete silence surrounded us. “Kate, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing?” She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned on the car’s display screen. The image showed live surveillance footage from the hospital’s dialysis center. In the city’s most advanced blood purification chamber—the one I had reserved—her childhood sweetheart Pedro lay comfortably, attended by several nurses. Kate smiled at Pedro on the monitor, then turned to look at me. “David, I’m so sorry. Pedro had a sudden severe asthma attack. It was critical, so he had to use your spot first.” My heart sank to the bottom. “You planned this all along?” She finally dropped her disguise, laughing contemptuously: “You’re the one who said it—first come, first served. Now, you can just wait here.” The excruciating pain made my vision go black. I used the last of my strength to beg her: “Then at least take me to another hospital!” She acted like she’d heard the funniest joke in the world. “Another hospital? Why should I spend money to save a useless burden like you?” She turned on the car’s air conditioning to the coldest setting, the freezing air blasting directly at me. I shivered violently from the cold, but the pain in my abdomen only intensified. She lit a slim cigarette. The harsh smoke made me cough violently, each cough tugging at my torn kidneys. I stared at her now-unfamiliar profile, my voice hoarse: “Kate, our three years together…” “Really?” Her eyes were ice cold. “Pedro said he saw you embracing another woman. Now you want to talk about our three years together?” I looked at her in shock: “You’re insane! When did I ever—” “Enough!” Kate whirled around. “Pedro’s body is damaged. Fine, you took his parking spot. But then you made him stand in the rain until he got a fever. Now it’s time for you to experience what suffering feels like!” The car door locked with a “click.” She got out, imprisoning me alone in this cold, desperate space. On the screen, Pedro showed a triumphant smile and waved at the camera. I don’t know how much time passed before the car door was violently yanked open. Kate stood outside, several thugs behind her with cigarettes dangling from their mouths, their eyes leering at me. She held a bucket filled with murky, filthy water. “It’s too dry in the car,” she looked down at me condescendingly. “How else can you understand the helplessness Pedro felt waiting for a parking spot in the rain?” I moved my lips weakly, each word draining all my remaining strength: “Kate… save me…” She snorted coldly. The thugs immediately understood. Two hands reached in, dragging me roughly from the car and throwing me hard onto the muddy ground. Mud water instantly soaked through my clothes. I struggled to get up, but a foot pressed down hard on my back, pinning me to the ground, unable to move. Kate lifted the bucket and walked over to me. The filthy water poured down from above my head, reeking terribly, choking into my mouth and nose. I shook violently from the cold, my consciousness gradually blurring between the freezing temperature and the excruciating pain in my kidneys.

“Don’t you have OCD?” Her voice was filled with vengeful pleasure as her high heel ground over my fingers. “Don’t you disinfect the house three times every day? How does it feel now?” She gave a thug a look. The man grinned viciously, pulled a baseball bat from the trunk, weighed it in his hands, and tossed it to her. Kate caught the bat and crouched down beside me, her voice soft. “Pedro said that day after getting caught in the rain, he felt like his lungs were going to explode.” She slowly stood up and raised the baseball bat. “Now, let you feel the same.” The bat came down with a sharp whistle, smashing hard into my lower back—right where my kidneys were. “Ahhh—!” The intense pain made me scream inhumanly. My body arched violently, and my vision went completely black. On the car screen, Pedro spoke with fake concern, though excitement leaked through his voice: “Kate, that’s enough. Don’t break him. I still need him…” “You’re still defending him!” Pedro’s words seemed to trigger Kate, madness exploding in her eyes. “He almost killed you! This little pain is nothing!” She stopped letting the thugs do it and took matters into her own hands. Another strike, smashing hard into my calf. “Crack!” I clearly heard the sound of my own bone shattering. The pain nearly made me pass out, but she still wasn’t satisfied. She threw down the bat and ordered a thug: “Tear off his shirt!” The expensive cashmere sweater she’d given me for my birthday was ripped apart with a “rip.” My bare upper body was exposed to the cold autumn wind, trembling all over. I stared at her intently, using the last trace of my strength. During a brief gap in the pain, I used my last bit of strength, my fingers trembling as they moved quietly toward my collar. There was a specially made emergency pin sewn there. My assistant Leo had half-forced me to wear it before this hospitalization, calling it a good luck charm. He always said I trusted human nature too much. I struggled with all my might and finally pressed that tiny switch. My tense nerves suddenly relaxed, and I almost collapsed from exhaustion. Leo. He would come. He would definitely come to save me. As long as I could hold on until he arrived… “David, what are you up to?” Kate’s voice pierced through the hope I’d just kindled. She bent down and yanked open my collar. The small pin was exposed before her eyes. She froze for a moment, then her face flooded with the rage of being played. She lifted her foot, the tip of her scarlet high heel aimed at the pin. “Trying to call for help?” “Crack!” “You useless piece of trash, you’re pretty cunning though.” The metal casing was crushed and deformed, electronic components scattering everywhere. I stared at her hard, my vision going black in waves. I can’t die. In college, I’d taken an emergency medical course and studied physiology well. Now I could only rely on myself. I curled up in the mud water, using a specific position to reduce pressure and bleeding in my kidneys. I regulated my breathing, fighting against wave after wave of intense pain. Seeing that I was actually trying to save myself, Kate’s expression became extremely complex. Pedro’s voice came from the car screen again. “Kate, when I had my asthma attack, the pain almost killed me. How can he still hold on this long?” “He shouldn’t have it this easy!” “Right, he shouldn’t have it this easy.” Kate nodded. She turned and took a white medical kit from the car, throwing it on the ground. A woman who’d been standing behind the thugs walked over. She wore an ill-fitting nurse’s uniform, her face completely expressionless. “He’s lasted too long.” Kate issued her cold command. “Give him an injection of diuretics and saline.” My pupils contracted sharply. “Kate, you’re insane!” I screamed with all the strength in my body: “My kidney function has already failed! This will accelerate electrolyte imbalance and cause cardiac arrest!” The fake nurse crouched down expressionlessly, opened the medical kit, and skillfully drew a syringe full of clear liquid. The needle gleamed coldly as it pierced my arm. “No—”

The drug was forcefully pushed into my vein. In that instant, I felt my heart suddenly stop beating. Then came an even more violent pounding, as if it would burst through my chest. My breathing was instantly taken away. All the muscles in my body began convulsing violently, uncontrollably. My body arched in the icy mud water, then crashed down heavily, bouncing repeatedly. Kate watched me struggle in agony on the ground with cold indifference, watching my lips gradually turn purple from lack of oxygen, her tone terrifyingly calm. “When Pedro had difficulty breathing, he convulsed just like this.” The drug burrowed into my veins. My heart stopped suddenly. Then came the drum-like violent pounding, threatening to tear my chest apart. My breathing was stripped away. My muscles spasmed uncontrollably, my whole body arching in the icy mud water before crashing down heavily. In my fading consciousness, I saw my mother. She lay in a hospital bed, holding my hand, her breath barely there. “David, live well… for me… see the whole world…” No. I can’t die. I haven’t fulfilled my promise to her yet! I bit down hard on my tongue. The sharp pain brought a moment of clarity. I used my last bit of strength to fumble in the mud, my fingertips touching a sharp piece of broken stone. I slashed it toward the woman who had injected me. “Ahhh—!” She screamed and dodged, a deep gash opening on her arm, visible to the bone. “You dare fight back!” Kate’s face twisted with rage. She kicked the stone out of my hand. She stared at me intently, then suddenly smiled eerily. “David, didn’t you once say your greatest wish was to donate your corneas after death to help others?” That was the most sincere thing I’d ever said to her, whispered lovingly in her ear. On the screen, Pedro’s voice rang out excitedly. “Kate, I have a friend whose mother is waiting for a suitable cornea donor!” “Perfect.” Kate’s smile was both brilliant and cruel. “Since you’re going to die anyway, might as well make a contribution now.” She tilted her head toward the thugs. “Hold him down.” “Take out his corneas for me!” “Kate! You wouldn’t dare!” I let out a beast-like roar, my eyes bloodshot, rage filling my vision. Several thugs surrounded me with vicious grins. One of them now held a gleaming fruit knife. They pinned down my limbs. The cold blade aimed at my eye. Just as the knife tip was about to pierce my eyeball— “BOOM!” The parking garage’s rolling door was smashed open by tremendous force. Several black cars sped in. Trained men in black jumped out of the vehicles. The thugs were subdued instantly. Screams rose one after another. The man leading the group rushed to me and wrapped me in his coat. “David! I’m sorry Leo came late!” All the strength seemed to drain from my body. I leaned against his solid arm, lifted my eyes, and looked coldly at Kate. On the screen, Pedro’s face froze, completely dazed. “David?” Kate’s voice shook uncontrollably. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening before her eyes. Pedro on the other end of the screen took a long moment before letting out a terrified shriek. “Kate, run! They’re… they’re from Stellar Technologies!” I looked at Kate, using all my strength, each word hoarse like sandpaper scraping. “Her, and that man on the screen—I want them… to beg for life but be denied, to beg for death but be unable.”

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Nara, the daughter of a New York tycoon, is a hopeless romantic. To elope with a poor student, she slashed my face and threatened me with my parents’ lives: “As long as you get plastic surgery to look like me and marry the New York billionaire heir in my place, I’ll spare your parents.” As I desperately resisted, subtitles suddenly floated before my eyes: [Nara is so foolish. When they elope, they’ll encounter a tsunami. Not only will she be lost without a trace, but she’ll also lose her status as the female lead!] [The New York billionaire heir is the real male lead, but Nara insists on choosing the poor student, a mere supporting character.] [This random passerby with the slashed face is so lucky. If she agrees to the plastic surgery, she can replace Nara and infiltrate the wealthy family to live the good life.] I covered my mangled, bloody face and made my decision without hesitation: “Take me to get the surgery right now. I’ll imitate you perfectly, I guarantee no one will see through it.” Since she’s delivering this heaven-sent fortune right to my doorstep, I won’t be polite about taking it.

My words made the subtitles explode: [No way, this passerby named Sarah is that bold? She actually dares to replace Nara in the arranged marriage?] [If someone discovers that Sarah got plastic surgery to impersonate her, their whole family of three will definitely die horribly.] In that case, I’ll just work hard to make sure no one discovers I’m a fake. I asked Nara: “Just plastic surgery will definitely have flaws. What if someone discovers I’m fake and drags you back?” As Nara frowned, I seized the opportunity to suggest: “How about you train me properly? Let me learn your way of speaking, your style of dress, get familiar with your interests, hobbies, friends, family, and so on.” “As long as I can comprehensively imitate you, it’ll be foolproof.” Nara immediately agreed: “Let’s do it your way. Anyway, there are still three months until the arranged marriage. While you’re recovering from surgery, I can train you properly.” After achieving my goal, she unlocked the iron chains on my parents: “Sarah, if you’d agreed earlier, your family wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” At this moment, my parents were already covered in blood, barely clinging to life. Yet they kept begging Nara: “Please spare Sarah, we’re begging you…” Nara kicked them in disgust: “Having Sarah be my substitute is a gift to lowlifes like you. You should be thanking me.” I knelt beside my parents, strong hatred surging in my heart. Just because my eyes, height, and voice were eighty percent similar to Nara’s, she had ruthlessly targeted me. My family was extremely poor. My parents had no connections and raised me by collecting trash. For Nara to torture us was easier than stepping on an ant. Fortunately, there were these subtitles that let me change my mind in time and save my parents’ lives. When I lay on the operating table, the subtitles were still wailing: [Can Nara please just break up with the poor student already? The New York billionaire heir is a tall, rich, handsome CEO. I don’t want to see Sarah get this advantage!] A tall, rich, handsome CEO? That’s perfect. I endured the excruciating pain of bone shaving and flesh grinding, closing my eyes in anticipation. From this moment on, I would no longer be pitiful Sarah. I would replace the love-brained Nara and become the real Nara. The wealthy heir she doesn’t want to marry—I’ll marry him. The good life she doesn’t want—I’ll live it for her!

Starting the next day, Nara put me through high-intensity training. “I started racing at eighteen. Hurry up and get your driver’s license, then practice driving three hours every day.” “Your country accent is so tacky. Quickly practice standard English. If you embarrass my dad at a big event, I’ll kill you!” “Do you understand dining etiquette? Do you understand the rules of socialite circles? Have you ever even gotten your nails done?” As Nara scolded me, she started losing her temper: “I’m very picky about everything—food, clothes, housing, transportation. You reek of poverty. How could you possibly imitate me?” I humbly appeased Nara: “I can do it! Even if I don’t sleep, I’ll study hard according to your requirements.” I knew the gap between Nara and me was huge. But I wasn’t afraid. I forced myself to sleep only two hours a day. Besides practicing driving, I learned financial knowledge from scratch. I also studied all the major fashion magazines intensively, familiarized myself with every luxury brand, and learned etiquette from online videos. With superhuman willpower and determination, one month later, I successfully got my driver’s license, my spoken English became standard, and my eyes held much less timidity. Nara was quite satisfied: “I didn’t expect you to be so serious. Let’s move to the next stage.” She brought out materials and photos piled like a mountain: “This is my family tree. You need to recognize all these relatives clearly. They often give me gifts. If you dare mistake anyone, you’re dead.” “These are my family’s important business partners. You need to treat these people seriously, or my parents won’t be happy.” “This is information and background on my arranged marriage partner. Think it over carefully and deal with him properly for me.” I stared at the photo of the New York tycoon Diego, setting a goal for myself. As long as I could win over this man and have a few children with him, even if someone discovered my true identity later, with the children as my trump card, I could at least save my own life and my parents’ lives. My parents, after being beaten last time, never received treatment. Nara watched me closely and wouldn’t let me take care of them at all. I could only occasionally sneak back to bring them some medicine and food. “Don’t worry, once I become Nara, I’ll definitely let you live the good life.” For myself and my parents, I was full of energy, wishing I could utilize all twenty-four hours of the day. As the scabs on my face gradually fell off, the poor student couldn’t help but worry: “This Sarah looks too much like you after the surgery. What if she takes the opportunity to replace you and steal your wealth?” The subtitles were also anxious: [Supporting male character, please persuade Nara! This Sarah looks so malicious. She’s working so hard—clearly she wants to steal the nest!] [Can someone please tell Nara she’s going to die in a tsunami? I’m so anxious!] Nara dismissed this: “Can’t I control a lowlife trash collector? Don’t worry, I have a plan.” She grabbed my neck, her tone vicious: “I’m giving you an account number. After you infiltrate my family, you’ll transfer all the money my family gives you and the marriage fund to me.” “If I find out you’re embezzling my money, I’ll immediately come back and expose your identity, making your whole family die without a burial place!” After speaking, she pushed me away and smiled sweetly while holding the poor student’s arm: “From now on, she’ll continuously transfer money to us. We can travel the world without worry!” I obediently agreed on the surface, but inside I couldn’t stop sneering coldly. If Nara knew she would die soon, and that I would completely replace her… I wonder if she could still smile?

Soon, as my surgical wounds fully healed, my every word and action took on her appearance. I learned skincare and makeup, learned how to dress and accessorize, and learned how to act coquettish. I could recognize every relative and friend around Nara. I recognized more executives and subordinates in the company than even Nara did. As the wedding date drew closer, Nara couldn’t wait to put me into real combat: “Tonight my family will formally meet with Diego’s family to discuss the wedding. You better perform well!” The subtitles still wouldn’t give up: [I hope Sarah is full of holes tonight and gets discovered as a fake. That way our Nara still has hope.] [Sarah reeks of poverty in her bones. Diego will definitely notice. I’m waiting to see Sarah make a fool of herself.] The subtitles didn’t think highly of me, but I proved myself. From driving home and acting cute with Nara’s parents, to helping myself and Nara’s mother pick out dresses and makeup… throughout the entire process, not a single person in Nara’s family questioned that I was fake. If I could pass Nara’s family’s inspection, I was even less worried about Diego’s family. Before leaving, Nara’s mother asked worriedly: “Have you cut off contact with that poor student?” “You were making such a fuss about canceling the engagement before. Now you’re suddenly so cooperative—you’re not plotting something again, are you?” I imitated Nara’s tone, proudly raising my chin: “Mom, can you have a little faith in me! No matter how much I mess around, I can still see what’s important. I wouldn’t make you die of anger over a poor student!” “Besides, that Diego is good-looking enough for me. This arranged marriage isn’t a loss.” My sweet, coquettish yet clever manner would make even Nara herself bow down in admiration. It made Nara’s mother smile with relief. “You really are my good daughter. Here’s five hundred thousand—go trade in for a new car.” As soon as the money arrived, I transferred it to Nara. Nara expressed satisfaction and told me to perform well tonight. Once seated at the dinner table, even though I knew Diego kept observing me, I deliberately acted indifferent toward him. While eating, I paid special attention to avoid all the foods Nara wouldn’t touch. When they started discussing the wedding budget, Diego took the initiative to talk to me: “My current budget is eighty million dollars. Do you have any thoughts on this?” I curled my lips into a mocking smile: “Eighty million? Are you treating me like a beggar? I spend more than eighty million just setting off fireworks. If you want to marry me, please show the highest level of sincerity.” That haughty, domineering manner made Diego narrow his eyes appreciatively: “Alright, I’ll plan the wedding with a five hundred million budget, no upper limit.” I petulantly slammed the table: “Come sit over here. How can we discuss details from so far away?” “I want the best designer to design my wedding dress. I won’t wear it unless it’s covered in diamonds.” Diego smiled knowingly and sat beside me. The subtitles were all exclaiming: [Sarah really captured the essence. Neither family noticed Sarah is fake. What if she actually marries Diego?] [Can Nara please properly punish Sarah? I think this ugly woman really wants to climb up to Diego, this high branch.] Diego’s family was extremely satisfied with me and transferred ten million in wedding fund advance payment on the spot. As soon as the meeting ended, I transferred the money to Nara. “Sarah, your performance tonight was excellent—completely authentic.” I thought Nara had lowered her guard around me. Who knew she would suddenly change her expression and slap me hard: “Remember your identity. Fake is fake—it can’t become real.” “Your purpose in life is to get married for me, then transfer money to me to keep your parents’ dog lives safe.” After speaking, she actually dragged my parents out again. Right in front of me, she viciously broke one of my father’s legs: “If I find out you’re trying to replace me, I’ll cripple all your parents’ remaining legs!”

Amid my parents’ screams, I wiped away my tears and kowtowed to her in humiliation: “I’ll do whatever you tell me to do. I absolutely won’t covet things that don’t belong to me.” Nara threw all her documents at me, then took my documents and began preparing her elopement plan. Through the subtitles, I learned she and the poor student had booked a smuggling boat and reserved a house abroad. Following Nara’s instructions, I converted all her expensive bags and jewelry into cash and deposited it all into her account. During this time, I also persisted in paving my own way. Whenever I returned to Nara’s home, I would secretly collect Nara’s hair for future emergency use. The subtitles grew more and more anxious: [The more I watch this Sarah, the less she seems like a good person. I feel like Nara is raising a tiger that will devour her.] [If only Nara would check the weather forecast before setting her itinerary, she could avoid the tsunami!] I counted down to the elopement day, extremely excited inside. As long as Nara got on that boat and died in the tsunami, I wouldn’t have to live in fear anymore. I seized every opportunity to get close to Diego. However, Diego was unfathomable. One day he actually said to me: “Nara, you’re not quite what I imagined.” I used coquettishness to hide my panic, asking him what was different. “According to my investigation, you were previously madly in love with a poor student and even wanted to cancel the engagement for him.” “I wonder what made you change your mind and agree to this arranged marriage with me?” I scoffed, putting on a disgusted expression: “Can we not mention that tacky ex-boyfriend? Isn’t that bad luck?” Diego stared at me meaningfully: “Since you dislike your ex-boyfriend so much, I’ll keep an eye on him for you and absolutely won’t let him harass you again.” I suppressed my panic, treating Diego’s words as a joke. In our subsequent interactions, I began occasionally mentioning the poor student to avoid Diego’s suspicion. After enduring a few more days, the day of Nara’s elopement finally arrived. According to plan, I stayed at Diego’s place that night. I wanted to take the opportunity to sleep with him, while the subtitles live-broadcast the elopement process. [It makes me so angry to see Sarah hugging and kissing Diego! She’s here embracing the rich and handsome guy while the real Nara can only secretly board a boat to elope.] [Nara has ultimately boarded the ship of no return. The tsunami is approaching. My female lead is going to die like this…] Seeing the subtitles say that Nara’s boat had set sail, the heavy stone in my heart finally settled. After tonight, I would be the real Nara! No one would ever harm our family again, and I wouldn’t have to be anyone’s dog anymore. All that awaited me in the future would be inexhaustible wealth and honor. Suppressing my inner excitement, I was about to continue being intimate with Diego when his assistant suddenly pounded on the door frantically: “This is bad! That poor student eloped with Nara! Someone saw them board a ship heading abroad!” My body stiffened, and I completely panicked. Of all my calculations, I never calculated this. Diego wasn’t joking—he was actually keeping an eye on the poor student! If Diego wanted to get to the bottom of this, I would definitely be exposed! Not only would all my efforts be wasted, but our family of three couldn’t escape a horrible death either… Just as I was in a panic, Diego looked at me suspiciously, then opened the door and questioned his assistant: “Are you sure that woman who eloped is my fiancée Nara?” “Positive! I received photos!” Diego took the phone and looked. His expression instantly froze. The next second, he viciously grabbed my hand: “If the woman who eloped is Nara, then who are you?” My heart jumped into my throat. At the same time, the subtitles began scrolling frantically before my eyes.

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I was born and switched by the housekeeper. She stuffed me in the servants’ quarters, claiming I was a servant’s illegitimate daughter. She placed her own daughter in the gold-trimmed crib, making her the envied true heiress everyone adored. For three years, I watched her wear princess dresses, drink imported formula, and be cherished by Mom and Dad. While I slept on the floor and ate leftovers. That night, the housekeeper got drunk and let something slip—she said even my name was randomly chosen. I heard every word crystal clear. That very night, while everyone slept, I crawled into the master bedroom. In the crib, the fake heiress slept soundly. I climbed up, aimed at her, and raised my foot. A dull sound of a body hitting the carpet. Then came Aria’s heart-wrenching cries. Every light in the villa blazed on instantly. I heard chaotic footsteps thundering down the hallway. Dad—James Reed, Mom—Grace Hartley, and the housekeeper Victoria Hayes. They burst in together. The scene before them froze them all in place. Me, Juniper Reed, the servant’s illegitimate daughter in their eyes, lying peacefully in the crib meant for the Reed family’s true daughter. While their treasured daughter, Aria, lay on the cold carpet, crying so hard she could barely breathe. “Aria!” Mom Grace was the first to react, screaming as she rushed over to scoop up Aria. James’s face turned ashen, his gaze stabbing toward me like a knife. The housekeeper Victoria’s face drained of all color in an instant. She knew better than anyone what this meant. “Aria, my baby, where did you get hurt? Let Mommy see.” Grace held Aria, tears streaming down her face with heartbreak. Aria’s little face was streaked with tears as she pointed her finger at me. “It was her! She pushed me!” Her words were garbled but the meaning was unmistakable. All eyes focused on me again. James’s gaze grew even colder. “What happened?” His voice simmered with fury. Victoria’s body trembled like a leaf in the wind. She rushed forward and yanked me from the soft crib. Her grip was strong, squeezing my bones painfully. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m so sorry, ma’am.” “This is my fault. I didn’t watch this wretched child closely enough.” “She must have been sleepwalking and wandered up here on her own.” She spoke while digging her nails into my arm, her eyes full of warning. I endured the pain. I said nothing, only staring at this couple—my parents in name only—with dark, grape-like eyes. My gaze was filled with timidity and fear. Like a frightened little animal. This was my act. Over three years, I’d learned exactly how to disguise myself to survive. Grace’s attention remained entirely on Aria, not even glancing at me. But James was scrutinizing me. His brow furrowed tightly. Perhaps he was wondering how a three-year-old child could run from the servants’ quarters to the master bedroom and climb into such a high crib. “Sleepwalking?” He repeated the word, skepticism lacing his tone. Victoria’s cold sweat immediately broke out. “Yes, sir.” “The child has had this problem since she was little.” “I’ll take her away right now, lock her up, and never let her disturb Miss Aria again.” As she spoke, she started dragging me away. I sneered inwardly. Lock me up? In her dreams. My goal tonight wasn’t just to kick Aria. I needed to stay. Stay close to them. So I started trembling. My thin body shook violently, teeth chattering. I looked at James, my eyes filled with extreme terror, as if I’d seen something horrible. Then I burst into tears. Crying even more pitifully than Aria on the floor. My sobs came fast and frightened, carrying an indescribable sense of grievance. “It wasn’t me… it wasn’t me…” I cried while speaking in broken phrases. “There was… there was a bad person…” “A bad person in black clothes. He carried me up here.” “He tried to take my sister too. I was scared, so I pushed him away…” My words were jumbled. But the core message was clear. A stranger had broken in. James’s expression changed instantly. He wasn’t concerned about me—he was worried about the Reed family’s security. “What did you say? Someone in black?” He demanded sharply. His voice made me flinch, and I cried even harder. Victoria froze. She hadn’t expected me to fabricate such a lie. She wanted to contradict me but didn’t dare. Because if she said there was no intruder, how would she explain my presence here? Could she admit she got drunk and let something slip, and I overheard? She didn’t dare gamble. “Sir, this child is talking nonsense!” She could only deny it stubbornly. “How could a stranger possibly get into the house?” James ignored her. His sharp gaze swept around the bedroom. The windows were shut tight, the door locked. It didn’t look like anyone had broken in. His eyes returned to me, filled with scrutiny and impatience. “Enough. Stop crying.” Grace had finally calmed Aria down. She held her daughter, looking at me with disgust. “A servant’s child only knows how to lie. Like mother, like daughter.” “Victoria, take her away immediately. Just looking at her irritates me.” Victoria felt as if she’d received a pardon. She immediately grabbed my arm, wanting to drag me out of this dangerous place. I knew this was my last chance. Once she took me back to the servants’ quarters, even crueler torture awaited me. I couldn’t leave. Just as Victoria started pulling me, I used all my strength to break free from her grip. I dropped to my knees. Not kneeling toward Victoria, nor toward Grace. I knelt toward James. The absolute authority in this household. I lifted my head, face covered in tears, looking up at him. My eyes no longer held only fear. There was also a trace of attachment and dependence. “Daddy… Juniper is scared…” I called out timidly. That single word “Daddy” made the entire room fall deathly silent. Everyone froze. Including myself. Wait, I hadn’t meant to call him Daddy. I’d intended to say “sir.” But this three-year-old body seemed to have instincts of its own. Under extreme fear and desperate need for protection, it called out the deepest name in its heart. James’s body went rigid. He looked down at me. At my gaunt little face, at my dark grape-like eyes. I saw an extremely complex emotion flash through his cold gaze. Shock, confusion, and a trace of… emotion he himself hadn’t even noticed. Victoria’s face had turned white as paper.

Deathly silence. The air seemed to solidify. Grace held Aria, her frown deepening. “What did she call you?” She asked James, her tone full of disbelief and revulsion. “A servant’s bastard child dares to call you daddy?” Victoria’s soul nearly left her body. She dropped to her knees. “Sir, ma’am, I’m so sorry!” “This child has problems in her head. She babbles nonsense all the time. I’ll go back and discipline her properly!” She kowtowed repeatedly while reaching out to cover my mouth. I shrank back, dodging her. I remained kneeling, still looking up at James. I said nothing, only staring at him stubbornly with those eyes so similar to Grace’s. My gaze said: I didn’t call the wrong person. James’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t immediately fly into a rage, nor did he have Victoria take me away. He just stared at my face for a long time. So long that even Grace grew impatient. “James, what are you standing there for? Have Victoria get her out of here!” “Aria’s been frightened.” Aria in her arms cooperatively started sobbing again. “Daddy, I’m scared. She’s so dirty.” Aria’s voice pulled James from his thoughts. The trace of emotion in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by his usual coldness. “Victoria, take her downstairs.” He spoke flatly. “Yes, sir.” Victoria breathed a sigh of relief, quickly getting up and grabbing me like a chicken. This time, I didn’t resist. Because I knew my goal was half-accomplished. The seed of doubt had been planted in his heart. I’d caught that momentary exchange of glances. A man who dominated the business world wouldn’t be easily swayed by emotions, but he absolutely trusted his own eyes and judgment. My face was the strongest evidence. Victoria dragged me out of the master bedroom at a quick pace. Behind us, Grace’s voice comforting Aria drifted over. “Aria, don’t be afraid. Mommy will make her leave our house tomorrow, okay?” “Okay!” Aria immediately stopped crying. Victoria’s steps faltered. My heart sank slightly too. Leave this house? That wouldn’t do. On the way back to the servants’ quarters, the long corridor was silent. Victoria said nothing, but her grip on my arm grew tighter and tighter. I knew a beating awaited me. Sure enough, as soon as we entered that dark, damp little room, she locked the door behind us. Then she turned around, her face no longer showing the earlier fear—only viciousness and malice. “You little bitch!” She slapped me across the face. A burning pain. The blow sent me stumbling and falling to the floor. “Who told you to run out there? Who told you to talk nonsense?” Still unsatisfied, she raised her foot and kicked me. I curled up, using my arms to protect my head. Over three years, I’d learned this was the most effective way to protect myself. I was used to this pain. Compared to hunger and endless cold, physical suffering was actually the easiest to endure. “Did you hear something?” After a few kicks, she seemed tired and stopped, panting as she questioned me. I lay on the floor, saying nothing. “I’m talking to you!” She grabbed my hair and yanked me up from the floor. My scalp felt like it was tearing. I was forced to lift my head and look at her twisted face. “I’m warning you, Juniper.” “From now on, if you dare run around or talk nonsense again, I’ll break your legs and cut out your tongue!” “You remember this—I’m your mother! That Aria is the true Miss Reed!” “You’re just an unwanted bastard, fit only to serve my daughter like a slave for life!” She said viciously. I looked at her, my gaze calm. No tears, no begging for mercy. My calmness seemed to enrage her further. “You dare glare at me?” She raised her hand to hit me again. Just then, a knock came at the door. “Mrs. Hayes, are you in there?” It was a young maid’s voice. Victoria’s movement froze. Her expression changed. “What is it?” She asked impatiently. “Sir wants to see you.” The maid said from outside. Victoria’s pupils constricted sharply. Sir? Why would sir want to see her this late? An ominous premonition settled over her. She released my hair and threw me hard onto the floor. “You stay right here and don’t go anywhere!” She warned me in a low voice, then walked over to open the door. The maid outside saw her and paused. “Mrs. Hayes, your face…” “It’s nothing. I just bumped into something.” Victoria explained vaguely, straightening her clothes and hair. “Where is sir?” “In the study.” “Alright, I’ll go right away.” Victoria closed the door and locked it from the outside. I heard her footsteps hurrying away. The room returned to darkness and silence. I climbed up from the cold floor mat and walked to the door. I pressed my ear against it but heard nothing. But I knew James must have grown suspicious because of my “daddy” call earlier. He wanted to verify. And Victoria was his first step in verification. A cold smile curved my lips. Did Victoria think locking me up would solve everything? Too naive. This tiny servants’ room couldn’t hold me. I walked to the window and skillfully moved a small stool over. The window had no lock, just a simple latch. I stood on my toes and struggled to push it open. Then I opened the window and took a deep breath of the cool night air. Jumping down would hurt a bit. But that was fine. I knew tonight’s show was just beginning. I had to see it with my own eyes.

The study light was on. James sat behind the massive mahogany desk, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the surface. Before him sat a cup of coffee, now cold. He hadn’t drunk it. His thoughts were chaotic. In his mind, the scene of that child crying and calling him “daddy” kept replaying. And those eyes. Those eyes almost identical to Grace’s. Three years ago, the day the child was born, he’d been abroad negotiating an important contract. By the time he returned, the child had already been born for several days. Grace was weak after childbirth, so he hadn’t thought much of it. Household matters had always been Victoria’s domain. Victoria was Grace’s distant relative who’d been with the family since Grace married into the Reed household. They trusted her absolutely. So he’d never questioned his own daughter. But tonight, that child called Juniper was like a pebble dropped into his calm lake, stirring up ripples. Would a three-year-old child have that kind of gaze? It wasn’t just fear—there was a calmness and stubbornness beyond her years. Too strange. A knock interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.” Victoria pushed the door open, head lowered, expression respectful yet tinged with unease. “Sir, you wanted to see me?” “Sit.” James pointed to the chair opposite. Victoria seemed flattered, sitting down carefully. “That child is called Juniper?” James got straight to the point. “Yes, sir.” Victoria’s heart leapt to her throat. “Who is her father?” James stared into her eyes. Victoria’s gaze flickered. “I… I don’t know.” “She was an abandoned baby I found at my hometown doorstep. I felt sorry for her, so I kept her with me.” This lie she’d prepared long ago. Seamless. James said nothing, just watching her. His gaze seemed to pierce through to the soul. Victoria felt her scalp crawl under his stare, cold sweat pouring down. “How many years have you been with Grace?” James suddenly changed the question. “Almost ten years, sir.” “Ten years.” James nodded. “Grace trusts you very much.” “Ma’am’s kindness to me is as heavy as a mountain.” Victoria quickly pledged loyalty. “So three years ago when Grace gave birth, you handled everything at the hospital, inside and out.” James said casually. Victoria’s heart skipped a beat. What did he mean? Was he suspecting something? “This… this was part of my duties.” Her voice was dry. “I remember you said at the time that when the child was born, she had a red birthmark on her ankle.” James continued. Victoria’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. The birthmark! How could she have forgotten about this! Back then, to make the Reed couple believe Aria was their daughter, she’d deliberately fabricated this birthmark lie. Because Aria did have a red birthmark on her ankle. But the real Reed daughter had no birthmark at all! “Yes… yes, sir.” “Miss Aria does have a plum-blossom-shaped birthmark on her ankle.” She could only bite the bullet and confirm. “Mm.” James acknowledged, not continuing that topic. He picked up the cold coffee and took a sip. “Alright, you may go.” “Remember, control your daughter. Don’t let her run around scaring Aria.” His tone was bland, revealing no emotion. Yet Victoria felt like she’d just walked through death’s door. “Yes, sir. I’ll remember.” She quickly stood, bowing as she backed out. Not until she left the study and closed the door did she realize her back was completely drenched in cold sweat. Too close. Fortunately, sir didn’t continue questioning. She breathed a long sigh of relief and hurried toward the servants’ quarters. She had to get back and properly discipline that damned Juniper. All this trouble was caused by that little bitch! In the study, James set down his coffee cup. He opened a drawer and took out a photograph. It was Grace’s one-month-old baby photo. In the picture, the infant was plump and fair with bright, dark eyes. Almost identical to that child called Juniper tonight. Another thought occurred to him. Grace’s family had a very distinctive hereditary trait. Severe mango allergy. Yet his daughter Aria loved eating mangoes most of all. Before, he’d simply thought the child didn’t take after her mother. But now, thinking back, this detail seemed suspicious everywhere. A bold thought so absurd even he found it ridiculous rose in his mind. Could it be… He picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a number. “Hello, Leo, it’s me.” “I need you to handle something.” “First thing tomorrow morning, send your most reliable person to my house.” “Collect two samples for a paternity test.” “One from Aria, the other…” He paused, the image of that thin yet stubborn little face floating through his mind. “…from Victoria’s daughter, Juniper.” “Remember, this matter is absolutely confidential.” After hanging up, James leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He hoped he was overthinking. At that moment, in a large tree outside the window. I was hiding behind the dense leaves, taking in everything in the study. Though I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I saw James’s expression. Saw his contemplation when he took out the photograph. And most importantly, saw his serious, resolute expression when he made that final call. I knew my plan had succeeded. He was wavering. Next, I just needed to add more fuel to the fire. Let this spark of doubt burn into a raging inferno. I slid down from the tree silently, agile as a cat. I didn’t return to the servants’ quarters. Victoria was definitely furious now—going back would be walking into a trap. I was going somewhere else. A place where I could make the fire burn even hotter. Grace Hartley’s room.

Grace hadn’t gone to sleep yet. She sat at her vanity, gently stroking Aria’s hair. Aria had been frightened today and insisted on sleeping with her. At this moment, the little girl had fallen asleep, her small face still showing traces of distress. Grace sighed. She thought again about tonight’s events. That child called Juniper, that dirty little face, and that timid call of “daddy.” Honestly, the first moment she saw that child, she felt something strange. Not entirely disgust. There was also a trace of inexplicable… closeness. Especially when she knelt on the floor looking up with those eyes so similar to her own, Grace’s heart had actually stabbed with pain. How could this be? She must be going crazy. That was just a servant’s child. A crude, ill-mannered bastard who’d even learned to lie. Grace shook her head, trying to shake off these absurd thoughts. Just then, she heard a faint, suppressed whimpering. The sound came from the balcony. She paused. This late at night, who was outside? She stood and quietly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulling back a corner of the curtain. In the moonlight, a small, thin figure was curled up in the corner of the balcony. It was Juniper. She hugged her knees, head buried in her arms, small shoulders shaking. She was crying. Crying so sadly, so helplessly, yet not daring to make too much noise. As if afraid of disturbing others, or perhaps afraid of being discovered in her vulnerability. Grace’s heart felt like something squeezed it hard. Pain. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. This afternoon she’d hated this child so much. But now, seeing her cry alone in the cold night wind, she actually felt some compassion. As if possessed, she opened the balcony door. “It’s so late. What are you doing here?” Her voice came out softer than she’d expected. Hearing the voice, my body jerked violently. I slowly raised my head, seeing her, my eyes immediately filling with panic. I quickly scrambled up from the floor, standing there at a loss, like a child caught doing something wrong. “I’m… I’m sorry, ma’am.” “I… I didn’t mean to.” My voice carried a thick nasal tone, hoarse and pitiful. “I… I didn’t dare go back.” “Mrs…. Mrs. Hayes said she’d break my legs.” As I spoke, tears fell again. Grace’s brow furrowed. “She was going to hit you?” “Yes.” I nodded, instinctively touching my swollen, reddened cheek. In the moonlight, that clear handprint was especially prominent. Grace’s gaze fell on my face, her eyes narrowing. She reached out as if to touch it, but stopped mid-air. She seemed to find me dirty. I saw her hesitation. I sneered inwardly but looked even more pitiful outwardly. I lowered my head, saying softly, “It’s okay, ma’am. It doesn’t hurt.” “Mrs. Hayes said I was disobedient, that I made Miss Aria angry, so I deserved it.” “As long as… as long as you don’t send me away, being hit is fine.” “I don’t want to go to an orphanage.” “I heard from other servants that children in orphanages don’t get enough food and get bullied.” Each of my sentences was like a needle, pricking Grace’s heart. She’d grown up privileged, never witnessing such a scene in her life. A three-year-old child actually begging not to be sent away, willing to endure beatings. What kind of desperation was this? For the first time, she felt a trace of dissatisfaction toward Victoria. Even if it was a servant’s child, surely she couldn’t abuse her like this? “You… come inside first. It’s cold outside.” After a long silence, she finally spoke. I froze, as if not believing my ears. I looked up at her, eyes full of flattered gratitude. “Thank you, ma’am.” I carefully walked into the room, standing awkwardly at the carpet’s edge, not daring to step forward. I kept my head down, not daring to look at her or any of the luxurious furnishings in the room. I acted exactly like a child from the slums who’d accidentally wandered into a palace. Inferior, yet tinged with curiosity. Seeing me like this, the dissatisfaction in Grace’s heart turned to pity. “You’re called… Juniper?” She asked. “Yes.” “Who gave you that name?” “Mrs. Hayes.” I said, “She told me I was found under a grapefruit tree.” Grace fell silent. She looked at me, then at Aria sleeping sweetly on the bed. One randomly picked up under a grapefruit tree. One cherished like a precious pearl amid endless love. How unfair fate was. Just then, I suddenly caught a sweet fragrance. It came from a plate of cut mangoes on the nightstand. Left as a bedtime snack for Aria. My eyes immediately locked onto that plate of mangoes. Then my face showed an expression of extreme terror. I began backing away uncontrollably, my body starting to tremble. “No… don’t…” I cried out in alarm. “Don’t eat that… eating it will… will kill you…” My reaction was intense. As if I’d seen some deadly poison. Grace was startled. “What’s wrong with you?” She asked, confused. “That… that thing is poisonous!” I pointed at the mango, voice trembling. “I… I saw it before. A kid in my village ate this and got red spots all over, then… then died.” I fabricated a lie full of ignorance and fear that fit my background identity. Grace froze. Mango? Poisonous? Of course she knew mangoes weren’t poisonous. But she also knew that everyone in the Hartley family was allergic to mangoes. Mild cases broke out in rashes, severe cases… could indeed be fatal. This was a hereditary family secret. Except for the closest family members, outsiders couldn’t possibly know. But this child before her… Why would she have such a strong reaction to mangoes? Could it be… A thought Grace herself found absurd—just like James—sprouted in her heart. She looked at me, eyes full of shock and disbelief. Then she looked at the “daughter” on the bed who loved eating mangoes. A thought screamed frantically in her mind. Could this one actually be my daughter? Then who is that one on the bed?

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