Damien Blackwood had a trophy girlfriend, and Elara Vance simply pretended not to notice. While he showered his mistress with jewels and exotic gifts, Elara was outside, holding their daughter, Lily, watching the stars. When he celebrated his mistress’s birthday with a drone show that lit up the entire city, Elara and Lily were on vacation in Zurich. And when he brought his mistress to the office to fool around, Elara watched the surveillance feed, her face a mask of indifference as she switched it off. Until, one day, the mistress, Brittany Wells, in a fit of jealousy, kidnapped Lily. Both fell from a cliff, landing in the hospital. Elara rushed there, only to hear the doctor informing Damien, “The blood bank is critically low. We can only save one: the child or the adult.” Damien hesitated. Under Elara’s piercing gaze, he finally said, “Save the child.” Elara watched, her gaze unblinking, as he signed the form. His pen trembled, hovering for an agonizing thirty seconds before finally, painstakingly, writing their daughter’s name. A wave of relief washed over me. Then, I turned to Damien, the man I had loved for ten years. “Damien, what about your promise to me?!” I demanded, my voice raw with fury. I had pursued him for a decade. If he so much as mumbled about not eating enough dinner, I’d scour the entire city to find his favorite comfort food. When he was injured and bleeding after a race, I nearly drained my own veins to donate blood to him. But no matter how much I gave, he only ever found me annoying. It wasn’t until the Blackwood Group faced a financial crisis that he begrudgingly agreed to marry me to save his company. That day, I went to him, ecstatic, only to be met with his cold words: “High-society marriages are always about mutual benefit, Elara. I can never give you genuine affection, so just forget about it.” On the eve of our wedding, I was forced to sign a contract. We became a contractual couple. We would fulfill all marital obligations and enjoy all marital rights—*except* for the clause of mutual fidelity. The only condition was that no matter how wild he got outside, it couldn’t affect our family. For years, we stuck to this rule perfectly. Even as Damien went through mistress after mistress, I never once questioned him. But I would never, ever tolerate him harming our daughter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect Brittany to be so extreme. She saw our family photos today, and in a moment of panic, she just snapped…” Damien tried to explain. My palms were clenched so tight my knuckles were white. Finally, I managed to say, “If you can’t control your women, I will. And when that happens, don’t expect any mercy from me.” Damien grunted, acknowledging my words, then stood and walked to the corridor to smoke. For years, we had been like this: a perfect couple on the surface, but in reality, complete strangers. Two hours later, the doctor emerged from the operating room, his face etched with regret. “We saved the child, but she suffered severe brain trauma and is now in a vegetative state. Ms. Brittany Wells was slightly luckier; she’s already awake.” … I stumbled, disoriented, into Lily’s hospital room. My eyes immediately found my daughter’s pale, fragile face. I turned back, but Damien was gone, probably to Brittany’s room. Fighting back tears, I gently wiped Lily’s face. From the open door of the room, I heard two young nurses whispering. “I just passed the stairwell, and I saw Mr. Blackwood talking to the doctor, telling him to save the adult, not the child.” “No way? Who would do that to their own daughter?” “Why would I lie? I saw them re-sign the consent forms with my own eyes!” My heart turned colder than ice. I closed my eyes, two streams of tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. A towering wave of resentment for Damien rose inside me. That very night, I called Blackwood Manor. My personal assistant, Liam, answered. “Find the marriage contract Damien and I signed years ago. Take a picture and send it to me. And remember, don’t alarm anyone.” … Fifteen minutes later, my phone pinged. I opened the image in the chat. Clearly visible were the words: “Any party violating this contract must unconditionally agree to divorce and forfeit all marital assets, relinquishing all claims to property.” Save. File away. I sent copies to my lawyer friend and a contact at the County Clerk’s office. Replies came swiftly. 【This contract remains valid indefinitely.】 【The County Clerk’s office has an opening tomorrow; you can apply for a divorce anytime.】 I stared at the lines of text. Just as I was about to tap ‘delete,’ a deep, resonant male voice cut through the silence. “Elara, why aren’t you asleep yet?” My heart jumped, and I instinctively snapped my phone shut. Damien walked towards me, his gaze falling on Lily’s face. He sighed. “Though Brittany was in the wrong here, I’ve had the doctors give Lily their full attention, and the blood bank prioritized her. It’s just a shame she’s so small, her body couldn’t keep up…” I remained silent, watching him with a mocking gaze. Damien frowned, clearly uncomfortable with my look. He mumbled an excuse and left. I knew he was going to Brittany. But I hadn’t cared before, and I cared even less now. Over the next few days, when I wasn’t at the hospital with Lily, I quietly returned to Blackwood Manor to clear out my things. On the first day of Lily’s hospitalization, Damien spent the entire day in Brittany’s room. I went back to Blackwood Manor and burned every photo and memento of Damien and me. On the second day, Damien came to sit with Lily for an hour, only to be called away by a phone call from Brittany. I went back to Blackwood Manor and took the half-finished sweater I was knitting for Damien, savagely cut it to shreds, and threw it in the trash. On the third day, Damien came to visit Lily, bringing Brittany with him. I watched on surveillance as they passionately kissed and got intimate right beside Lily’s hospital bed. I returned to Blackwood Manor and photographed all of Damien’s business secrets, saving them to a private folder on my phone. On the fifth day, Lily was discharged. Damien brought Brittany back to Blackwood Manor. “Elara, Brittany is injured, so fragile and helpless right now; she can’t take care of herself without me.” I looked at him, my heart aching. “Damien, have you forgotten our agreement?” No matter how many women he fooled around with, he wasn’t allowed to bring them home. That was my absolute boundary. Damien had always respected that boundary. But this time, he shook his head, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Elara, Brittany truly needs care. Just be understanding. She won’t bother you.” He paused, then added, “I promise, no matter what Brittany and I do, it won’t affect your status.” … “And if I don’t agree?” I challenged. “I can’t live under the same roof as your mistress.” Damien’s patience snapped. “If you don’t want to live here, no one’s forcing you. You know perfectly well why we got married in the first place, so stop acting like I owe you anything!” He shoved me, then slammed the front door shut. Through the crack in the door, I caught Brittany’s triumphant smirk aimed directly at me. That night, a furious storm raged outside. I stood alone in the courtyard, drenched, with nowhere to shelter. I saw the lights on the second floor, the curtains in the master bedroom wide open, revealing the heated scene within. On the massive bed, Damien and Brittany were getting intimate, naked and pressed together. Once, twice, three times… As I watched their bodies intertwine and Damien’s gentle, tender movements with her, a relentless, agonizing ache ripped through my heart. Damien and I were intimate maybe once a month, and each time he was impatient and rough, as if merely going through the motions. Pinned beneath him, his hand gripping my throat, I’d struggle to gasp out, “Damien, if you don’t want this, no one’s forcing you…” I never understood why Damien hated me yet still wanted to sleep with me. He never answered, just continued his relentless thrusts, round after round… Over time, I gave up, even trying to convince myself that this was just how Damien was. But watching him with Brittany, I finally understood: there are no cold and distant men in the world. There are only men whose warmth isn’t meant for you. Drenched by the rain, I developed a fever that lasted three days. The moment I recovered, Damien dragged me to the Serenity Summit Resort in B-City for a banquet. At the entrance, I saw Brittany, wearing the haute couture gown I had asked Damien for multiple times, to no avail. Our eyes met, a clash of sparks in the air. “Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, the Serenity Summit Resort upholds traditional etiquette. Gentlemen are only permitted to bring their lawful wives inside. If you wish to bring an escort, she must perform a traditional bow of deference before entering.” Brittany pouted, throwing herself into Damien’s arms. “Damien! I refuse to bow to anyone! And I don’t want to be your mistress, hmph!” I couldn’t help myself. “You already are one, so why pretend otherwise?” Brittany’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Damien…” Damien hesitated for only a second before turning to the server. “Brittany Wells is my wife.” I froze, stunned, staring at Damien in disbelief. “Damien…” “Just listen,” Damien murmured. “Brittany is young and sensitive. How can she be expected to kneel before others?” Did that mean *I* could be expected to do it? Seeing my face turn ashen, Damien, unusually patient, tried to coax me. “You’ve always wanted that Peninsula Estate, haven’t you? I promise, I’ll buy it for you the moment we get back, as long as you agree to enter as an escort.” At this, the crowd began to murmur. “I thought Mr. Blackwood’s wife was the heiress from *that* prominent family? When did he get a new one?” “Exactly. The Blackwood Group faced a crisis back then, and he only got through it by marrying into that wealthy family. Now he’s completely turned his back on her, even bringing his mistress here.” “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I’d say that mistress looks more like the real Mrs. Blackwood. That poor heiress must be devastated.” My face went ashen. I had never felt such profound humiliation. I took a deep breath, then pulled out my marriage certificate with Damien. … Brittany was forced to her knees, serving Damien and me throughout the meal. Her small face was a picture of misery, tears clinging to her eyelashes, heartbreaking to behold. I remained expressionless, but Damien’s heart visibly ached for her. Suppressing his rage, he snarled, “Elara Vance, are you satisfied? Is this the humiliation you wanted to inflict on Brittany?” I bit my lip. “We willingly signed the marriage certificate years ago. I didn’t force you. I’ll use it whenever I see fit.” Halfway through the meal, Damien suddenly kicked the table over, scooped Brittany into his arms, and stormed out. The gazes of pity and sympathy from the other guests threatened to drown me. My face went pale, and I lost all appetite. I quickly excused myself. Stepping out of the hotel, the world around me abruptly went black. … When I next opened my eyes, I was bound in a cold, damp basement parking garage. My legs were tied, forcing me into a kneeling position on the concrete floor. Several masked men in black were taking photos of me from every angle. “What are you doing?!” I cried out, terrified. “Let me go! I’m Mrs. Blackwood of Blackwood Group! If my husband finds out, he’ll never let you get away with this!” The masked men were completely unfazed, their eyes full of mockery. Just then, Damien’s call came through. “Do you understand what you did wrong?” I froze. “What?” On the other end, Damien’s voice was devoid of warmth. “I told you, as my contractual wife, you need to be obedient. You used tricks to make Brittany kneel today, so I will punish you a thousandfold.” “Brittany knelt for ten minutes, so you’ll kneel for ten hours in the basement parking garage.” I felt as if I’d been plunged into an ice bath, my heart plummeting into a terrifying, empty freefall. I choked back tears, about to speak, when a syrupy, feigned-innocent female voice cooed, “Damien, darling, won’t ten hours be too long? My knees were all bruised after just ten minutes.” “What? Your knees are bruised? Let me see…” Damien’s voice hardened. “Elara Vance is utterly despicable! I’ll have them break her kneecaps!” The next second, I heard the unmistakable sounds of intimate kissing, mixed with the rustle of a condom wrapper being torn open. Then, a searing pain shot through my knee. My kneecap was brutally shattered. The next morning, Damien came to the garage entrance to pick me up. When he saw me, a smug, knowing smile played on his lips. “Spent all night reflecting, have we? Now you know where you went wrong, don’t you?” My face was devoid of color. I nodded, expressionless. “I know where I went wrong.” “Good.” Damien nodded in satisfaction. On the way back, as I stared at the back of Damien’s head, all the deep affection I once held for him had vanished, replaced by a terrifying, dead calm. In those ten agonizing hours, I finally understood my mistakes. Knowing Damien didn’t love me, yet stubbornly pursuing him – that was my first mistake. Knowing he married me for his own gain, yet still flying into his flame like a moth – that was my second. And even knowing he loved someone else, still being unable to let him go – that was my third. Now, I would rectify every single one of my mistakes. I would leave him, completely, physically and mentally. Five days left. … We drove all the way to the luxurious Peninsula Estate. Damien was pleased with my repentant attitude and immediately handed me the villa keys. “My promise to you, here you go.” Seeing my slightly dazed expression, Damien’s lips curved upward. “I told you, as long as you’re obedient, I won’t shortchange you, and Brittany won’t threaten your status.” “Once I’m done with her, I’ll come back and we can live together properly, but you need to be obedient.” I smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. I stepped into the villa. It was large, spacious, luxurious, and beautifully decorated. It would have been perfect, if not for Brittany Wells sitting on the plush leather sofa. “What is she doing here?” I asked, my voice dangerously cold. Damien looked somewhat surprised, his brow furrowing slightly. Brittany nervously stood up. “Damien, darling, I heard *she* was coming today, so I came especially to welcome her. I even brought a housewarming gift…” Damien’s heart softened instantly. He turned to me. “Brittany meant well, Elara. Don’t be mad at her.” “I’ve invited some friends over for dinner at the villa tonight. Brittany will join us. Elara, as the lady of the house, you need to act like it. Don’t always get hung up on trivialities.” Only now did he remember I was the lady of the house? I smiled, a pale, bitter smile. I shook my head, saying nothing. During dinner, Brittany subtly moved to sit beside me. Her knee-length dress strategically revealed a glimpse of her leg. “Damien knew my knees were bruised from kneeling. He personally applied ointment and massaged them until he was satisfied. He said if I have even the tiniest scratch, it pains him deeply. Has he ever said that to *you*?” Brittany’s triumphant gaze landed on my knees. “Oh, I forgot. He must never have said that to *you*, otherwise, why would he shatter your kneecaps?” Brittany smiled, utterly provocative. I had already given up on Damien, but hearing her words still stirred a ripple of emotion within me. “You…” I began, but then I saw a strange, cunning glint flicker in Brittany’s eyes. She swiftly grabbed the glass of water from the table and splashed it onto her own face. “Ah! What are you doing, Elara?! I was just kindly asking if your knees had healed! Why did you throw water on me!” Brittany wailed, throwing herself into Damien’s arms, crying dramatically, like a heartbroken damsel. I gaped, “I didn’t…” The next second, Damien delivered a sharp, stinging slap across my face, sending me sprawling to the floor. “Elara Vance, this is what you call knowing your mistake?!” Damien snarled, his teeth clenched. “I see you’re completely unrepentant, always pushing your luck, taking advantage of your past contributions to the Blackwood family, and trying to bully Brittany!” “I will not be lenient with you this time!” With that, I was shoved into a pool easily ten feet deep. The icy water choked my nose, and I gasped for air, thrashing wildly in the water, close to suffocating. Damien, holding Brittany close, stood on the edge, casually watching the scene. “You threw water on Brittany’s face, so I’ll make sure you drink your fill of it, Elara Vance. I told you, you must pay for your actions.” My ears buzzed, and I could barely make out what they were saying. I felt such profound regret. Such deep regret. Why had I insisted on being with someone who didn’t love me at all? Now, I was reduced to this utterly wretched state. Loving him had been a mistake from the very beginning. I don’t know how much time passed. On the brink of death, I was finally hauled out by a bodyguard. Night had fallen. After coughing up all the water from my lungs, I staggered upstairs. From the master bedroom, I heard wanton, suggestive laughter. “Damien, darling, this is your *new home* with *her*. Are you sure *she* won’t mind you sleeping with me in her bed?” “Don’t worry about her. I told you before, every bed in every one of my houses must carry your scent.” “Oh, you’re naughty~” The sounds of their escalating intimacy filled the bedroom again. My heart turned to ice, utterly desolate. I sank to the floor beside the wall and dialed a number. “Liam, do you have any available slots at the County Clerk’s office tomorrow? I can’t take this anymore; can we expedite the divorce…?” Silent tears streamed down my face, my throat tight with suppressed sobs. “There are no slots tomorrow, but there’s an opening in three days. We can fast-track your application then.” Liam’s voice was filled with concern, having detected the distress in my voice. “Good. Three days it is.” I hung up the phone, collapsing to the floor as if all strength had drained from my limbs. I had never felt so utterly exhausted. I truly had been wrong, unbelievably wrong. Believing that genuine affection would be returned in kind was the biggest lie in the world. I leaned weakly against the wall, drifting in and out of consciousness, when a startled cry suddenly erupted from the master bedroom, followed by the door being kicked open. “Elara Vance, why was there a needle in Brittany’s pajamas?! Did you secretly put it there?!” Damien’s eyes were blazing, as if he wanted to devour me. Behind him, Brittany’s small face was pale with feigned panic. There were clear hickeys on her neck, and she was wearing *my* pajamas. My face instantly hardened. “Who gave you permission to wear my pajamas?!” “Oh, so you *do* know these are your pajamas, Elara Vance! You deliberately tried to harm Brittany! How utterly vicious you are!” Damien looked at me as if I were some venomous witch. I was shocked and enraged, yet a bitter laugh escaped me. “I deliberately harmed her? Are you saying I forced her to wear my pajamas? You two want to experiment, you want to spice things up, you cheat and even wear my pajamas, and now you have the gall to blame me?! Have you no shame?!” I finished in one breath, feeling a strange catharsis, mixed with an unprecedented sorrow. Damien’s face faltered slightly, realizing there was some truth to my words. Just then, Brittany cried out, “This is a new house, and there are hardly any clothes! I had no choice but to wear *her* pajamas! She must have guessed I would do this, so she deliberately planted the needle!” Damien’s face instantly darkened. “Elara Vance, I truly misjudged you!” “Guards!” I was shoved into a burlap sack. Inside, five rats, three snakes, and dozens of cockroaches squirmed. With Damien’s single command, the bodyguards brutally beat the sack. “Ah… Ah…” The screams emanating from the sack were no longer human. Damien finally looked satisfied. He kissed Brittany’s face. “There, darling. I avenged you. She pricked you with a needle, so I’ll let the vermin bite her.” Then, he looked at the sack, his voice cold. “Consider this a lesson. If you ever dare to lay a hand on Brittany again, it won won’t be this simple.” With that, he wrapped an arm around Brittany and walked away, not once looking back. When I was released from the sack the next day, I had already passed out. When the butler reported this, Damien was in Brittany’s room, applying ointment to the small needle pricks on her. “Passed out?” Damien’s face changed. He put down the ointment and started to leave. Brittany gritted her teeth, a flash of malice in her eyes, and followed him. I lay on the ground, covered in countless small, bloody bite marks. Damien’s expression was one of shock. He was about to speak when Brittany suddenly gasped. “Ouch, my needle wound from yesterday hurts so much…” Damien’s attention immediately turned to her. He quickly checked her wound. “Better, Brittany?” Brittany nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “She probably didn’t mean to stab me. She must just be upset that you’re so good to me. It’s okay, I won’t hold it against her.” Damien’s expression darkened. Any flicker of pity he had felt for me vanished completely. “She brought it on herself. If she’s passed out, so what? Throw cold water on her. If one bucket doesn’t wake her, use two. If two don’t, use three. If ten buckets don’t wake her, she’s faking it!” The butler nodded and began to douse me with water. One bucket… Two buckets… Three buckets… By the seventh bucket, I awoke, groggily opening my eyes, my head throbbing terribly. Damien sneered. “What, not faking it anymore? You were doing such a good job just now! I almost fell for it!” Brittany murmured, “She probably stopped faking it because she was afraid of being exposed.” I had never felt such rage. I almost forgot my sorrow; all I wanted now was to tear these two people limb from limb! I gathered my last vestiges of strength and stumbled to my feet, walking towards them, one step at a time. Damien looked at me impatiently, then suddenly froze. My gaze was utterly alien. It wasn’t the loving, tender look I used to give him. Now, when I looked at him, there was only a pool of still, dead water in my eyes. Damien suddenly felt a surge of panic. “Elara, listen to me…” I swayed suddenly. The world spun. And I collapsed to the ground again. I was rushed to the hospital. Doctors diagnosed me with severe internal and external injuries, a high fever, and immediately admitted me. “The patient’s condition is very unstable. She needs complete rest, and her emotions must not be stimulated further!” the doctor told Damien before leaving. For the next few days, Damien stayed glued to my bedside. Brittany came by a few times. Seeing Damien so distraught, she gritted her teeth and left. Damien watched over me for two days and two nights straight until a bodyguard called him, frantic. “Mr. Blackwood! It’s terrible! Ms. Wells has been kidnapped!” … By the time Damien rushed to the scene, Brittany had already been rescued by his bodyguards. She cried, throwing herself into his arms. “Damien, darling, I almost didn’t see you again… boo hoo hoo…”

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My husband and son? They were both deeply, toxically possessive. They loved to test the limits of my affection, pushing me away, acting cold. They even hired Seraphina, showering her with fake adoration, just to watch me crumble with jealousy and pain. Each time they saw the hurt in my eyes, they’d secretly tremble with perverse delight, a sick thrill running through their fingertips. I knew their game, but I never called them out. I just silently played along in their absurd charade. Until that day, when Seraphina and I were both caught in an accident and rushed to the emergency room. The doctor’s face was grim. “Both patients have severe, comminuted fractures in their arms. We only have one surgeon capable of the intricate repair work. Who goes first? The second patient risks permanent disability.” In my hazy consciousness, I heard Caleb’s voice, my son’s, childish yet disturbingly calm: “Dad, let’s save Aunt Seraphina first.” “If Mom’s hand is permanently damaged, she won’t be able to give piano concerts anymore.” “That way, she’ll have more time to spend with us.” “Don’t you want to see her all the time, for her world to only revolve around us?” Donovan, my husband, was silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke: “Save Seraphina first.” In that instant, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I never imagined that all my patience and endurance would only make them worse, escalating their twisted games. I slowly closed my eyes. My last thought before darkness consumed me was: When I wake up, I don’t want either of these two anymore. When I came to, the doctor told me the surgery had been too late. My hand would never fully recover, my piano career irrevocably over. And Donovan and Caleb, to maintain their charade, had been doting on Seraphina, never once coming to see me. I didn’t argue, didn’t cause a scene. I just quietly stayed in the hospital for a few days. The first thing I did after being discharged and returning home was contact a lawyer to draft divorce papers. Then, I started packing my belongings. I typed in my birthday as the password and opened the study door, a room Donovan and Caleb had always forbidden me from entering. What greeted me was a room filled with my photographs. On the walls, on the desk, even locked away in the cabinets – every single one was of me. Everyone said the Donovan and Caleb never loved me, but I knew the truth. Their love for me was terrifyingly, pathologically sick. My Grandpa Arthur and Donovan’s Grandpa Wallace had been close family friends. After my parents passed away, I was taken in by the Donovan’s family. When I first met Donovan, he was a teenager standing on the staircase, looking down at me, his eyes as cold as ice. I fell for him at first sight, chasing after him for years, but he never gave me a second glance. Even after Grandpa Wallace insisted he marry me, he remained distant and indifferent. It wasn’t until one day, when I accidentally stumbled into this study, that I discovered his deepest secret. This man, who was always so cold towards me, had fallen in love with me long ago. Distant during the day, he would secretly gaze at me at night, obsessively kissing my lips. And Caleb, our son, at just five years old, was already a spitting image of his father. He’d ignore me on the surface, but secretly collect every single strand of my hair. They loved me, but they pathologically craved my complete attention. For that, they deliberately acted cold, even hiring Seraphina, just to see me jealous, to see me hurt, and then to revel in their dark pleasure. I knew the truth, but I never exposed them. I thought if I was patient enough, one day I could cure their sickness. It wasn’t until that chilling “Save Seraphina first” in the hospital that I truly woke up. Some loves are just twisted, golden cages. I threw all my luggage into the trash, including the wedding ring I’d worn for five years. Just as I finished, a Bugatti slowly drove into the driveway. Donovan and Caleb were bringing Seraphina home. After they got out of the car, they ignored me as usual. Caleb’s little face was stern as he instructed the staff: “Aunt Seraphina just got out of the hospital; she hasn’t fully recovered. She’ll be staying here for a while.” “Go prepare the best guest room and decorate it to the standards of the lady of the house.” As they spoke, both father and son kept sneaking glances at me, hoping to see a jealous, heartbroken expression on my face. In the past, my heart would have twisted in agony. But now, I wouldn’t shed another tear for them. They didn’t get the reaction they expected, their faces slightly falling. But they simply assumed they weren’t acting convincingly enough, then quickly ushered Seraphina into the mansion, resuming their charade. Seraphina truly acted like she owned the place. One moment, she was critiquing the white roses outside the window: “These flowers are nice, but they don’t match the mansion. Red roses would be better.” Donovan immediately had my beloved white roses, which I had planted myself, dug up and replaced with glaring red ones. The next, she complained the curtains were too dark. Without a word, the father and son proceeded to completely redecorate the house I had so lovingly furnished, making it unrecognizable. I remained completely indifferent. Seraphina seemed a little uneasy: “I’m only staying a few days, and I’ve changed so much. Won’t Elara be angry?” Donovan said coolly, “Don’t concern yourself with her feelings.” At dinner, the staff served the meal. Donovan and Caleb doted on Seraphina, Donovan peeling shrimp for her, Caleb ladling soup, as if I were invisible. I was distracted, and after a mouthful of fish soup, I suddenly felt a large fish bone lodged in my throat! “Cough!” My face instantly changed, my breathing labored, my fingers desperately clutching my neck. Seeing my distress, Donovan and Caleb’s expressions instantly panicked, and they instinctively started to rush over. “Cough, cough, cough!” Seraphina suddenly clutched her throat too, her face contorted in pain: “I… I got a bone stuck too…” The father and son froze, their eyes conflicted. In the end, they chose to continue their act. Donovan helped Seraphina, patting her back and giving her water, while Caleb frantically called for the family doctor. My vision blurred. I tried everything to swallow the fish bone, but the sharp barb just lacerated my throat. “Pfft!” A mouthful of fresh blood spurted out, and I completely blacked out. When I next awoke, I heard Donovan and Caleb, their backs to me, coldly reprimanding the staff: “Who made this fish soup?! You almost killed my wife! All of you, get out!” I struggled to sit up, my voice hoarse: “There’s no need to fire them.” The father and son spun around. I looked at them, my eyes devoid of any emotion: “The ones who hurt me the most are those who stood by and watched me die. What responsibility can the staff bear?” Donovan’s face darkened instantly: “You have no say here! We’re not doing this for you, we’re doing it for Seraphina!” I closed my eyes, exhausted: “How long are you going to keep up this act?!” “What did you say?” They frowned, as if they hadn’t heard me clearly. I opened my mouth, about to speak, when the butler suddenly rushed in: “Sir, Ms. Seraphina is awake and asking for you.” Donovan and Caleb exchanged glances, then turned without hesitation: “You rest well. We’re going to take care of Seraphina.” With that, they left without another glance, heading straight for Seraphina’s room. Over the next few days, the father and son intensified their doting on Seraphina. Donovan personally fed her medicine, and Caleb stayed by her side, chatting incessantly. I knew they were putting on a show for me, but I no longer cared. Until Seraphina’s birthday party. The Donovan mansion was lavishly decorated, crystal chandeliers reflecting brilliant light, champagne towers stacked high. Guests murmured praise for the family’s lavish attention to Seraphina. “Mr. Donovan really dotes on Ms. Seraphina.” “Indeed. Mrs. Donovan has been married for so many years, and Mr. Donovan has never thrown her a birthday party.” “Even his own son only revolves around Seraphina. Mrs. Donovan is truly a failure…” The whispers of the crowd reached my ears, and I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Yes, I was a failure. Who would have thought this father and son, who supposedly loved me so fiercely, would choose to express it in such a way? In the center of the ballroom, Seraphina wore a haute couture gown, protected on either side by Donovan and Caleb, like a true lady of the house. They presented her with expensive gifts, accompanied her as she blew out candles and made a wish, yet their eyes kept darting towards me, hoping to catch a hint of jealousy or sadness on my face. But I simply sat quietly in a corner, my expression indifferent, as if none of it concerned me. Their faces grew increasingly grim. “Ms. Elara,” Seraphina suddenly chirped, her voice sweet, “What gift did you prepare for me?” I looked up: “Nothing.” Seraphina wasn’t offended. She pouted playfully: “How can my birthday be without a gift?” She feigned hurt: “Is it that you don’t welcome me here?” As she spoke, her gaze fell on the heirloom pendant around my neck, and her eyes lit up: “That pendant is so beautiful. Why don’t you give it to me as a birthday gift?” I frowned, instinctively covering the pendant: “No!” Seraphina’s eyes immediately welled up, and she looked to the father and son for help. “Take it off,” Donovan’s voice was as cold as ice. Caleb chimed in with a sneer: “It’s just a cheap pendant. If Aunt Seraphina likes it, just give it to her. Why be so stingy?” “This isn’t an ordinary pendant,” my voice began to tremble. Donovan stepped forward, pulling the chain with a harsh yank. The thin chain left a burning red mark on my neck. “Mrs. Donovan can’t even spare a simple pendant? We’ll just buy you a similar one later.” “No amount of similar ones will do!” My voice shook. “This is Grandpa Arthur’s last gift to me!” Donovan froze for a moment but quickly regained his cold composure: “The dead can’t be brought back to life. You need to let go of these old things to move on.” As he handed the pendant to Seraphina, I clearly saw his fingertips tremble slightly. Caleb chimed in: “Exactly, Mom is too fixated.” I completely broke down. Their acting, could it really go this far? Was their love truly just watching me suffer? I was about to step forward and snatch it back when Seraphina “accidentally” let her hand slip. “Smash!” The pendant fell heavily to the ground, shattering into several pieces. My pupils contracted, and I frantically knelt to pick them up: “What did you do?!” Seraphina feigned panic: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I, I’ll help you fix it…” “Get lost!” I shoved her away, trembling as I gathered the fragments in my palm. The sharp edges of the broken jade dug deep into my skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart. I turned to go back to my room, but Donovan blocked my way: “What kind of attitude is that? It’s just a pendant. If it’s broken, it’s broken. How can you push Seraphina?” I no longer wanted to say another word to them. I walked around them and headed straight upstairs. In my room, I tried to mend the pendant, but no matter how I pieced it together, the cracks were still clearly visible, just like my relationship with Donovan and Caleb – it could never be fully repaired. I took a deep breath, deciding to go out and find a professional artisan to restore it. Just as I opened the door, Seraphina stood outside, a triumphant smile on her lips: “Now you know how important I am, don’t you?” “Even your cherished heirloom, all it took was one word from me, and they snatched it for me, didn’t they?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice: “If you’re smart, you’ll step aside quickly.” I looked at her, so smug and overjoyed, and suddenly found it laughable. Did Donovan and Caleb know? The person they hired to act was growing this greedy. I looked at her coldly: “I think you’re the one who can’t see her place.” Seraphina’s face changed instantly: “What do you mean? Do you know something?” I was too tired to argue, pushing her aside to leave. But Seraphina suddenly grabbed my wrist: “Stop! Explain yourself!” “Let go!” I shook her off. I hadn’t used much force, yet Seraphina acted as if she’d been violently shoved, stumbling backward. “Ah!” With a scream, Seraphina tumbled down the stairs! The loud crash drew Donovan and Caleb. They rushed over, and Donovan immediately scooped up the collapsed Seraphina: “What happened?” Seraphina’s eyes were red, her voice choked: “I, I just wanted to apologize for the pendant… but she not only refused to accept it, she also cursed at me and told me to get out…” She sobbed, “She said she didn’t want to see me, and didn’t want you two near me…” Hearing this, a flicker of delight flashed in their eyes, their mouths unconsciously turning up, then quickly suppressed as they feigned seriousness. Donovan had the staff help Seraphina for a check-up, then turned to me, his voice cold: “These past few days, you’ve been quiet. I thought you’d finally learned to be magnanimous, but it was all an act.” “Since you dared to push Seraphina, you will pay the price.” He raised his hand and summoned the security guards: “Drag her to the third floor. Throw her down.” The words struck my heart like a heavy hammer. My eyes widened, my voice trembling, “Donovan! Are you insane? I didn’t push her! She fell herself!” “The third floor isn’t high,” he said indifferently. “It’s just to let you experience Seraphina’s pain, so you won’t make the same mistake again.” The security guards grabbed my arms. I struggled desperately, but it was useless. As I was dragged to the third floor, I screamed, “Donovan! Caleb! You’ll regret this!” “Thud!” When my body hit the marble ground of the courtyard, I heard the crisp snap of my bones. Excruciating pain instantly swept through me. Blood seeped from the corner of my mouth, and my vision began to blur. Through the haze, I saw Donovan and Caleb standing not far away. Under the light, a suppressed smile played on both their lips. “Dad,” Caleb whispered, “Mom is getting jealous for us again.” His eyes sparkled: “Mom really loves us so much, I’m so happy!” Donovan stroked his head, his voice soft: “Dad is happy too.” Listening to their conversation, my heart felt like it was being torn in two. My pain, their cruelty, was just a game to prove my love in their eyes. Darkness enveloped me like a tide, and I finally couldn’t hold on, completely losing consciousness. When I woke up again, the hospital’s harsh fluorescent lights stung my eyes. My whole body ached as if I’d been crushed, pain seeping from every bone. The nurse was changing my dressing. Seeing my eyes open, she quickly came closer: “You’re awake? How do you feel?” I struggled to move my lips, my throat as parched as if burned: “Who… brought me here?” “It was a father and son,” the nurse answered, adjusting my IV, her eyes filled with admiration. “Your husband and son, I presume? They’re so handsome.” She continued to chatter: “They were so frantic when they brought you in, they mobilized blood from all over the city, booked an entire floor, and stayed by your bedside all night.” My fingertips trembled. My heart felt gripped by an invisible hand. It was always like this. They clearly worried about me fiercely in secret, but on the surface, they insisted on acting indifferent. How ridiculous! “But what’s strange,” the nurse continued, “is that as soon as the doctor said you were about to wake up, they left in a hurry, heading to another patient’s room. Should I call them for you?” I closed my eyes, weary, and shook my head: “No, thank you.” I knew their games too well. They must have gone to Seraphina’s room to continue their act. Over the next few days, I took care of myself, quietly recovering from my injuries. On the day of my discharge, Mr. Sterling, the lawyer, brought the drafted divorce papers. I carefully read them over, confirmed everything was in order, and signed my name. Just as I finished the discharge procedures, I ran into Donovan and Caleb in the hospital corridor. They were helping Seraphina with her discharge. Father and son flanked her, Donovan even personally carrying her bag, and Caleb thoughtfully holding her jacket. I stood there, my fingers clutching the divorce papers. I took a deep breath, walked up to them, and handed the papers to Donovan: “Sign this.” Donovan frowned: “What is this?” Seraphina, beside him, immediately chirped: “It’s probably family signature required for discharge papers, right?” She tugged on Donovan’s sleeve, pouting playfully, “Donovan, just sign it. I feel a bit dizzy and want to go home and rest early.” Caleb also looked up, feigning concern: “Dad, please sign it quickly. Aunt Seraphina isn’t feeling well.” Donovan then took the pen, signed his name without even glancing at the contents. Then, he turned and left with Caleb and Seraphina, not giving me a single extra glance. I stood there, my heart feeling hollowed out, yet strangely, it no longer ached. I pulled out my phone and asked Mr. Sterling: “Both parties have signed. When can I get the divorce certificate?” The lawyer replied: “After the one-month cooling-off period is over.” I nodded, put the agreement in my bag, and turned to leave. Just as I walked out of the hospital, a stretched Rolls-Royce slowly pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, and Seraphina poked her head out: “Ms. Elara, since we ran into each other, why don’t we go back together?” I said coldly: “No need.” Two almost inaudible coughs came from the back seat. Donovan and Caleb simultaneously frowned, their gazes involuntarily drifting towards me. Seraphina immediately got out of the car and grabbed my hand: “Don’t dwell on what happened last time. Although you pushed me, you also suffered punishment, so let’s put it behind us.” She said, then forcefully pulled me into the car. I knew this must be the father and son’s doing. They wanted to be with me but couldn’t say it directly, so they made Seraphina do it. How ironic and pathetic. The car started, and suffocating silence filled the cabin. Donovan personally poured Seraphina a glass of warm water, and Caleb attentively draped a jacket over her shoulders. Their actions were smooth and natural, yet their eyes kept glancing at me, as if hoping to catch a hint of jealousy or sadness on my face. But I just silently stared out the window, my eyes dead. The window glass reflected my pale face and their restless eyes. Suddenly… “Bang!” A loud crash, and the car violently shook! My head slammed hard against the front seatback. My vision instantly went black. In the split second before losing consciousness, I distinctly saw Donovan and Caleb both lunging towards me, their arms already halfway extended… But in the moment our eyes met, they sharply changed direction, firmly shielding Seraphina in their arms. My heart turned completely cold. The chauffeur quickly apologized. Donovan and Caleb anxiously checked Seraphina for injuries. Seraphina chirped: “I’m fine, thanks to you two protecting me.” Then, she suddenly gasped: “Oh no, Ms. Elara is badly hurt!” The father and son finally turned to look at me. Blood seeped from my forehead, and my arm had several cuts from shattered glass. I was a complete mess. The chauffeur quickly asked: “Should we go back to the hospital?” Donovan’s throat bobbed. His eyes struggled, but eventually he said coldly: “No need. Seraphina still needs to rest.” He looked at me, his tone indifferent: “Just go back and put some antiseptic on yourself.” Caleb echoed: “Yes, Mom… just take care of it yourself.” I didn’t speak, just slowly closed my eyes. I was too tired, so tired I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Back at the mansion, I endured the pain and disinfected my wounds. The moment the alcohol seeped into the cuts, my fingertips trembled, but I didn’t shed a single tear. For the next few days, I quietly recovered in my room. Until this day, I went out to throw away the trash. As soon as I tossed it in, a sharp pain shot through the back of my neck. In the last second before I passed out, I recognized the attacker’s face. It was one of Donovan’s enemies! When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in an abandoned factory. My entire body was tightly bound with thick ropes, rendering me immobile. What sent shivers down my spine was the bomb strapped to my waist. The countdown read: 3:00. Seraphina was also tied to a pillar opposite me, her exquisitely made-up face terrified and pale: “Wh-what’s going on?” I didn’t answer, lowering my head to try and struggle free from the ropes. But they were tied too tightly. After a few futile attempts, my wrists only hurt more. The countdown ticked away, second by second. 2:45. Just then, the factory door was violently kicked open! “Bang!” Blinding sunlight streamed in. I squinted, seeing two familiar figures rush inside. It was Donovan and Caleb! Their expressions were tense, their gazes quickly scanning the factory, finally locking onto me. Donovan’s pupils constricted abruptly, and he instinctively lunged towards me. “Donovan! Caleb!” Seraphina suddenly shrieked, her voice trembling, “I’m so scared…” The father and son’s steps abruptly halted. Donovan’s throat bobbed. His eyes struggled. Caleb also clenched his small fists, staring intently at me, seemingly trying hard to restrain something. Finally, Donovan closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and walked towards Seraphina. “We’ll save Seraphina first,” his voice was low, as if trying to convince himself. “Elara… you wait a little longer.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. 0:30. I watched Donovan and Caleb quickly untie Seraphina, helping her to walk out. Seraphina leaned against Donovan, turning back to glance at me, a triumphant smile curving her lips. A shiver ran through me. 0:20. They really left. At this life-or-death moment, they still chose to keep up their act! I gritted my teeth, struggling desperately. The ropes finally loosened a bit. Enduring the excruciating pain, I slowly pulled my wrists out of the bindings. My skin was raw and bloody, but I couldn’t care less about the pain. 0:03. I finally broke free, stumbling out. But after only a few steps… “Boom!!!” A deafening explosion erupted behind me, and the massive shockwave sent me flying! I landed heavily on the ground, my back burning with pain, my ears ringing, my vision blurry. In a daze, I saw Donovan and Caleb rushing back, running towards me like madmen. Donovan’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse: “Elara!!” Caleb also cried out: “Mom!” I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t even have the strength to twitch my lips. I slowly closed my eyes, sinking into darkness. … When I next awoke, I was lying in a hospital bed, my entire body aching as if I’d been crushed. The nurse, seeing I was awake, quickly held me down: “Don’t move! You just had a kidney transplant; you can’t move around!” “Kidney transplant…?” My voice was hoarse. “Yes, you were injured by the bomb, and your kidney ruptured. Luckily, your husband didn’t hesitate to donate a kidney to you, and your son even gave you 800cc of blood.” My fingertips trembled. The nurse continued: “You truly have a good husband and a good son. They not only booked the entire floor for your recovery but also took turns watching over you for three days and three nights.” I closed my eyes, a sharp pain in my heart. They would rather donate a kidney, give blood, and watch over me, than say “I love you.” But thankfully, that kind of love, I no longer needed. … During my stay in the hospital, Donovan and Caleb never once came to see me. But strangely, I always felt someone secretly entering my room in the middle of the night. Sometimes, it was cool fingertips gently caressing my face. Sometimes, warm lips pressed against mine. And once, I even heard someone whispering softly in my ear… “Baby… get well soon.” That night, I once again felt someone approach. Warm breath caressed my neck, soft lips gently pressed against my earlobe. I suddenly opened my eyes! Donovan’s face was inches away. Our eyes met, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. “What are you doing?” I asked coldly. Donovan’s expression stiffened. The next second, he raised his hand. “Smack!” A chop to the side of my neck, and my vision went black. I passed out again. … A few days later, Donovan finally brought Caleb to “officially” visit me. “How are your injuries?” Donovan stood at the foot of the bed, his voice as cold as if he were asking a stranger. My gaze fell on his subtly trembling fingertips, and I suddenly laughed: “Have you been here these past few days?” Donovan’s pupils constricted abruptly, and his throat bobbed. He quickly turned his face away, his voice stiff: “No. We’ve been taking care of Seraphina. We just stopped by to pick up some medicine today and happened to check on you.” He finished speaking and turned to leave, his back rigid as if nailed to a board. Caleb, however, remained rooted, his small hand clutching his father’s coat, his eyes as red as a rabbit’s. “Donovan, Caleb.” I suddenly called out to them. Father and son turned around simultaneously, their movements so synchronized it was as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times. I looked at their similar faces, Donovan’s tense jawline, Caleb’s reddened eyes. I suddenly felt utterly exhausted, like I had traversed mountains and rivers, only to find the destination had vanished. I opened my mouth, wanting to say I knew they would sneak into my room every night and stay until dawn; wanting to say I could smell Donovan’s unique sandalwood scent; wanting to say I could hear Caleb’s muffled sobs hiding at the end of the hallway. But in the end, I just wearily closed my eyes. Forget it. I was tired. Too tired to even expose their ridiculous charade anymore. Since they loved proving their affection through pain, let them play their fill. Anyway, I was about to make my final exit. On the day of my discharge, it happened to be Grandpa Arthur’s memorial day. As I stepped out of the hospital, I saw Donovan’s car parked by the curb. The window rolled down, and Caleb poked his head out: “It’s Great-Grandpa’s memorial today. Dad and I will go with you.” I opened the car door, and coincidentally saw Seraphina’s smug smile in the back seat. My fingers dug into the flower wrapper as I silently got into the car. At the cemetery, the cold wind was bleak. A staff member walked over, respectfully saying: “Ms. Elara, your grandfather’s plot needs to be renewed.” Donovan immediately pulled out his card: “I’ll take care of it.” After he and Caleb left, Seraphina’s expression immediately changed. “Your grandfather’s been dead for so many years, and you still come to pay respects. What a waste of time,” she sneered. “An old geezer like that, does he deserve such a good plot?” I abruptly looked up, blood rising in my eyes: “Say that again!” “Did I say something wrong?” Seraphina smiled maliciously. “Thanks to the old man dying early, otherwise, seeing his granddaughter so lowly, shamelessly clinging to a man who doesn’t love her, he’d probably be brought back to life by anger!” “Slap!” A crisp slap echoed through the cemetery. Seraphina staggered backward, her head hitting the tombstone hard. Blood immediately trickled down her perfectly styled curly hair. “Elara!” Donovan and Caleb rushed over at the sound, just in time to see this scene. Seraphina immediately clutched her head, crying tragically: “Donovan… Ms. Elara is angry that you two have been taking care of me these past few days, even bringing me to pay respects to her grandfather. She got jealous and hit me. It’s my fault for not knowing my place; her anger is understandable…” The father and son exchanged glances, a subtle hint of pleasure flashing in their eyes. But quickly, Donovan’s face darkened. He looked at me, his eyes as cold as tempered ice: “Elara, what are you making a fuss about now!” Caleb also stiffened his small face, a mirror image of his father’s, but his voice carried a maturity unsuited for his age: “Mom, you hurt Aunt Seraphina. You must be punished.” With that, Donovan raised his hand and commanded the security guards: “Dig up the urn.” My pupils constricted sharply. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly: “Donovan! How dare you!!” The security guards’ movements were incredibly fast. The sound of the shovel digging into the earth was particularly harsh in the silent cemetery. I rushed forward like a madwoman, but Donovan grabbed my wrist. “Whoosh!” The moment the urn was opened, a cold wind howled through, sweeping up the gray-white dust, scattering it everywhere. “What are you doing!” Donovan’s face changed instantly, his voice filled with unprecedented panic: “Who told you to scatter it?!” The security guard froze, his shovel clanging to the ground: “Sir… didn’t you mean to scatter it to ashes?” Time seemed to stand still. Donovan and Caleb both froze, identical looks of shock and regret appearing on their similar faces. I watched the ashes dance in the air, and in a daze, I seemed to see Grandpa Arthur’s kind smile dissipating in the wind. The grandpa who would carry me on his shoulders to pick peaches, the grandpa who was the first to stand up for me when I was wronged, the grandpa who still worried about my happiness on his deathbed… he had turned into a wisp of dust between heaven and earth. My heart felt squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. A sweet, metallic taste rose in my throat, and I suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. My vision went black, and I collapsed in front of the cold tombstone. … In a daze, I felt myself floating in boundless darkness. I heard the deliberately hushed voices of the father and son, as if from far away. “Dad, did we go too far?” Caleb’s voice was clearly choked with tears. “Mom was so sad she even coughed up blood…” Immediately after, a pair of warm hands carefully held mine. Donovan’s voice was trembling uncontrollably: “Elara, I’m sorry… Wake up, I didn’t mean it… I never intended to scatter the ashes…” “Mom…” Caleb sobbed, his small hand gently caressing my cheek. “We just wanted to make you jealous… We love you…” Tears seeped from the corners of my eyes, silently soaking the pillowcase. They needed my pain to prove my concern, my tears to confirm my love. Behind every hurt, there was their twisted satisfaction. So, this was their love. To make me hurt, to make me cry, to make me wish I were dead, only then could it prove I cared. But that kind of love… I didn’t want it! I woke up at home to an empty mansion, only the staff busy downstairs. I opened my phone to check the time, but the screen was filled with news reports of Donovan and Caleb taking Seraphina to high-end restaurants and luxury stores. In every photo, Donovan had his arm around Seraphina’s waist, Caleb held her hand, the three of them smiling like a happy family. I expressionlessly scrolled past the news, my gaze falling on the date circled in red on the calendar. Three days left of the divorce cooling-off period. I was finally going to be free. … On the day of Donovan Corp’s anniversary celebration, I, as the nominal lady of the house, had no choice but to attend. The ballroom was magnificent, filled with clinking glasses and chatter. Seraphina wore a haute couture gown, clinging to Donovan’s arm, accepting compliments like a true hostess. “Mr. Donovan really dotes on Ms. Seraphina!” “Indeed, I heard the young master likes her too!” I stood in the corner, quietly drinking, as if none of it concerned me. Halfway through the banquet, the host announced the lottery drawing. The grand prize was: a wish granted by Mr. Donovan and young master Caleb, no matter what, they would fulfill it. The entire hall erupted in gasps, everyone excitedly waiting for the draw. “Congratulations, Ms. Seraphina wins the grand prize!” Seraphina covered her mouth in surprise, ascending the stage amidst applause. She took the microphone, shyly glancing at Donovan: “My wish is… I’d like to hear Caleb call me ‘Mom.’” The air instantly froze. Everyone’s gaze shifted back and forth between Seraphina and me. Caleb stood on stage, his small face tightly composed. He looked in my direction, a hint of anticipation and nervousness in his eyes, but when he saw my expressionless face, the corners of his mouth drooped slightly. “Mom!” He suddenly brightened, his voice clear and loud. Then he stood on tiptoes and kissed Seraphina’s cheek. The banquet hall erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers. My fingers, clutching the wine glass, turned slightly white. In a daze, I remembered the first time Caleb called me “Mom.” He had just learned to speak then, a soft, sweet “Mom” that made me cry all night. The music for the opening dance began. Donovan walked directly to Seraphina, taking her hand. Whispers broke out around me: “Mr. Donovan didn’t invite Mrs. Donovan to the opening dance this year?” “It seems Ms. Seraphina is really going to take over!” “Definitely. Look, even the young master calls her ‘Mom’ now…” I sat in the corner, downing one glass after another. The alcohol burned my stomach, but it couldn’t warm my frozen heart. I don’t know how much I drank, but my vision started to blur. In a daze, a server came to assist me: “Madam, you’ve had too much to drink. I’ll escort you upstairs to rest.” I was helped into the top-floor suite and collapsed onto the bed. The server thoughtfully took off my shoes, closed the door, and left. When the door opened again, I was already drifting in and out of consciousness. Seraphina walked in on high heels, looking down at me: “Your son called me ‘Mom.’ How does that make you feel?” I kept my eyes closed, my voice hoarse: “…No feeling.” Seraphina sneered: “You really can endure, can’t you? Your heart must be bleeding, I imagine?” She bent down, whispering in my ear: “But you don’t have to worry. I’ve taken your son. Next, I’ll give you a child too.” A bad premonition seized me. I used all my strength to shake off the drunkenness and open my eyes! The next second, I saw a strange man push open the door. Seraphina quickly retreated, locking the door from the outside. “You… get lost!” I struggled to retreat, but the alcohol made my body weak. The man grinned menacingly and lunged forward, tearing at my clothes: “Don’t pretend, Mrs. Donovan. Your husband doesn’t even care about you. Why play the virtuous woman?” I fought back desperately, my nails savagely tearing at the man’s face. Seizing the moment he cried out in pain, I fumbled for my phone and shakily dialed Donovan’s number. Calling the police would be too late. I could only call Donovan; he was in this very hotel. Once, twice, thrice… The call remained unanswered. Ten times, twenty times… Even after the twenty-eighth call, there was only the cold busy signal. I was utterly desperate. Seeing my dress about to be torn, I frantically grabbed the vase from the table and smashed it hard on the man’s head! While he groaned on the floor in pain, I staggered towards the window and, without hesitation, jumped! “Ah!” I landed in the bushes below, my knees and arms covered in countless scratches from branches. But I ignored the pain, scrambling up and running forward. Until, at a corner, a familiar voice made me freeze. Caleb’s voice came: “Dad, Mom called so many times. Aren’t you going to answer? What if something happened to her?” Donovan stared at his phone screen, his eyes conflicted, finally saying coldly: “If I answered, she’d know we care a lot about her.” Caleb nodded: “Dad is right. Mom’s love for us isn’t deep enough yet; she only called 28 times.” He counted on his fingers: “She needs to call at least 99 times to prove she truly loves us.” I hid around the corner, listening to their conversation, my heart feeling like it was being torn apart. So… they were still testing my love. But for them, I had, long since, run out of love! I limped out of the hotel, hailed a cab, and went home. I rummaged through the first-aid kit, hastily treated my wounds, and then began packing my luggage. Tomorrow, the divorce cooling-off period would end. I could finally leave this hell for good. I finished packing my last suitcase and was about to pour a glass of water when breaking news on the TV hit me like a lightning bolt. “Piano virtuoso Seraphina wins International Piano Competition Gold Medal with original composition ‘Dirge’…” The glass in my hand shattered to pieces. On the screen, Seraphina stood on the podium, smiling sweetly as she gave an interview: “This piece took me three years to create. The inspiration came from my insights into life and love…” My entire body trembled. That was *my* composition! My personally composed, original score, which I hadn’t even had time to publish! How did it become Seraphina’s?! The sound of my room door opening interrupted my thoughts. Donovan walked in with Caleb and Seraphina, the three of them chatting and laughing, like a happy family of three. “What is this?” I pointed at the TV, my voice trembling uncontrollably, “Give me an explanation.” Donovan didn’t even glance at it, saying dismissively: “No need for an explanation. Seraphina liked it, so I gave it to her.” “That’s my original work!” I almost ground the words out through clenched teeth. “It’s given, it’s given,” Donovan frowned impatiently. “Anyway, your hand is ruined. From now on, just stay home and be a wife and mother.” Those words were like a sharp knife, piercing deeply into my heart. Yes, my hand was ruined… That day in the hospital, they chose to save Seraphina without hesitation, making me lose my ability to play the piano forever. Simply because they said: only if my hand was ruined, would I love them wholeheartedly. So… this was their love? To strip away my career, steal my creations, break my wings, just to imprison me forever in this gilded cage? I bit my lip fiercely until I tasted blood: “Donovan, Caleb, you will regret this!” “Those who trample on genuine feelings will face a reckoning!” Donovan’s face changed instantly: “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, turning to my room and slamming the door shut. Outside the door, Seraphina’s sickly sweet voice came: “Donovan, Caleb, we’re going to the award ceremony tomorrow…” “Get lost!” Donovan threw her away, his eyes dark and menacing. “She’s not even here, why are you still pretending? The act is over, don’t be an eyesore here.” “I’m warning you,” Caleb’s voice was cold, unlike a child’s, “If Mom is unhappy, everything we’ve given you, we can take back.” Seraphina’s face turned pale. She meekly agreed, but a hint of malice flashed in her eyes. … The next morning, when I came downstairs, Donovan and Caleb immediately sat next to Seraphina. “Today we’re accompanying Seraphina to the award ceremony. You stay at home and don’t cause any trouble.” I calmly nodded: “Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble anymore.” The words were spoken so lightly, yet they sent an inexplicable tremor through Donovan’s heart. He instinctively wanted to say something, but Seraphina hooked his arm: “Donovan, we should leave.” After they left, I stood in the empty living room, taking a deep breath. I took out the documents I had prepared long ago and headed straight to the civic office. At the civic office, when the clerk handed me the divorce certificate, I didn’t even glance at it. Returning to what was once my home, I placed the divorce certificate on the living room coffee table. Before leaving, I took one last look around the mansion, my gaze sweeping over the dust-covered piano, the family photo hanging on the wall, and Caleb’s crooked drawings from when he was little by the entrance. Then, I turned and left, never looking back. At the backstage of the awards ceremony, Seraphina was adjusting her necklace in front of the mirror. The diamond pendant sparkled dazzlingly under the lights. Donovan stood by, his eyes cold and distant, yet his gaze involuntarily drifted towards the door, filled with anticipation. “Dad, do you think Mom will come?” Caleb suddenly asked, voicing Donovan’s unspoken question. Seraphina’s movement with the necklace froze. She walked over on her high heels. “Ms. Elara seemed very upset this morning. She should still come. Mr. Donovan, young master, that way you can see her jealous again.” Despite saying this, Donovan felt an inexplicable unease growing in his heart. He couldn’t help but pull out his phone and dial my number, only to hear a cold automated message. [Sorry, the number you dialed is currently unavailable…] My phone was off? Why? He was about to call again when a staff member approached, respectfully saying the awards ceremony was about to begin and asked them to take their seats. Donovan frowned slightly, finally putting away his phone. While Seraphina delivered her emotional acceptance speech on stage, Donovan was distracted. My unusual behavior this morning made him feel inexplicably irritated, as if something important was slipping through his fingers. “Dad, Mom didn’t come to make a scene out of jealousy. It’s boring. I want to go home,” Caleb suddenly whispered. Donovan looked down at his son, noticing a rare anxiety on the usually calm little face. He nodded, and without waiting for Seraphina to finish, he stood up and pulled Caleb out of the hall. “Donovan? Caleb? Where are you going?” Seraphina exclaimed from the stage, drawing everyone’s attention. Donovan strode away without looking back, Caleb trotting to keep up with his father. The black Rolls-Royce sped through the night. Donovan’s fingertips unconsciously tapped on his knee, Caleb’s lips were tightly pressed together. When the car lights illuminated the gates of the Donovan mansion, Donovan’s heart sank. The entire house was pitch black, not a single light on, something that had never happened before. I always left a light on, waiting for them to come home. Donovan practically rushed into the house. In the empty living room, a dark green little booklet on the coffee table was particularly glaring. This was… Divorce papers? What did this mean? I had divorced him?! He froze, his fingers trembling as he picked up the divorce certificate. “Dad…” Caleb’s voice was tearful, “Come quick, all of Mom’s things are gone…” Donovan spun around and dashed upstairs. The master bedroom door was wide open, the entire room so clean it was as if I had never been there. A sharp pain suddenly shot through Donovan’s chest. He leaned against the wall to steady himself. He was in so much pain, it felt like someone had literally ripped a piece of flesh from his body. “How could this be…” he murmured, “How could she divorce me and leave…” “Dad, it’s all your fault!” Caleb suddenly rushed in, his small fists fiercely pounding his father’s leg. “It was all your idea to test Mom! Now she doesn’t want us! What are we going to do? I want Mom, I want Mom!” Donovan looked down at his son’s tear-streaked face, unsure how to respond for the first time. “Donovan…” Seraphina’s voice came from the doorway. She was dragging her long dress, out of breath. “Why did you suddenly leave? What happened?” Donovan slowly turned, his eyes terrifyingly dark. Seraphina was startled by his gaze and stumbled back, forcing a smile: “Is Ms. Elara throwing another tantrum? She’s always like this, always…” “Shut up.” Donovan’s voice was low. “Who gave you permission to talk about her?” Seraphina’s face turned pale: “I, I just…” “Dad, make her leave!” Caleb suddenly shrieked. “It’s because we hired her that Mom left!” Donovan’s eyes completely turned cold. He pressed the intercom: “Someone, escort Ms. Seraphina out.” “What?” Seraphina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Donovan, you can’t do this! We agreed…” Two security guards quickly appeared at the door, grabbing her arms. “Pack her things and throw them out too.” Donovan didn’t even look at her. “From now on, she’s not allowed within a foot of this house.” “Mr. Donovan! What did I do wrong…” Seraphina struggled and shrieked. “All this time, I’ve been cooperating with your act…” “Drag her out.” The security guards quickly covered Seraphina’s mouth and dragged her downstairs. Caleb rushed to the window, watching Seraphina being roughly shoved into a car and driven away, a twisted hint of glee on his small face. “Dad, let’s go find Mom,” he turned and grabbed his father’s coat, big tears streaming down his face. “We’ll apologize, tell her we love her. Mom will forgive us…” He mechanically pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant: “Immediately, right now, find Elara’s whereabouts. Use all connections, all resources, no matter the cost.” Hanging up the phone, Donovan slowly crouched down and hugged his sobbing son. His voice was hoarse beyond recognition: “We’ll find her… We will…” Outside the window, the evicted Seraphina stood outside the Donovan mansion gates, the tears in her eyes long since evaporated by hatred. She stared intensely at the brightly lit mansion, her fingernails digging deep into her palms. The curtains in the hotel suite were drawn. I sat cross-legged on the bed, the glow of my laptop reflecting on my pale face. On the screen was the folder I had just organized. My fingertips lightly glided across the touchpad, opening a photograph. It was the original manuscript of “Dirge,” the paper edges already yellowed, the date clearly visible in the bottom right corner. It was three years ago. In the photo, my hands were still perfectly intact, resting on the piano keys. “Enough,” I murmured softly, dragging the photo into the email attachment field. I also added a few audio recordings – conversations Seraphina had accidentally recorded on the home monitoring system while rummaging through my sheet music in the Donovan mansion. [Anyway, her hand is ruined, these pieces are just going to waste…] Seraphina’s shrill voice came from the speaker, laced with barely concealed greed. I expressionlessly clicked the send button. The email went simultaneously to five mainstream media outlets and to Mr. Sterling, my lawyer. Done with that, I closed my laptop and walked to the window, sharply pulling open the curtains. Sunlight poured in like a flood, making me squint. My phone vibrated. It was Mr. Sterling’s reply: [Sufficient evidence. Lawsuit submitted to court. Media will release news in three hours.] I put down my phone and started packing. I had booked a flight south for tonight. There was a small city there known for piano craftsmanship; perhaps I could find someone to repair my fingers. In my suitcase, besides essential clothes, I only packed two things: a small cloth pouch containing the shattered pieces of my heirloom pendant, and a stack of yellowed sheet music. Those were Grandpa Arthur’s last gifts to me. In Donovan Corp’s CEO office, Donovan stared at his computer screen, his face as grim as iron. The CFO stood before the desk, fine beads of sweat on his forehead. “All joint accounts unlinked?” Donovan’s voice was as cold as tempered ice. “Y-yes, Mr. Donovan.” The CFO handed over a document. “Mrs. Elara… no, Ms. Elara already processed all asset division procedures yesterday.” Donovan snatched the document, his gaze sweeping over the cold numbers and clauses. On the signature line of the last page, my handwriting was neatly precise, without a trace of hesitation. “And this…” The CFO carefully placed another notarized document. “Ms. Elara transferred all Donovan Corp shares under her name to the young master. The notarization is complete.” Donovan’s knuckles turned white. The paper crackled in his hand, protesting the pressure. He suddenly remembered something, abruptly standing up: “Get the car ready, I’m going home!” When Donovan rushed into the mansion garden, the gardener was squatting by the white rose bushes, lost in thought. The formerly blooming flowers had been dug up by the roots, leaving only ugly earthen pits. “Who did this?” Donovan’s voice startled the gardener. “It, it was Ms. Elara…” The gardener stammered. “Not long ago, she personally dug up all the white roses you planted for her…” Donovan’s chest felt like it had been punched hard. He mechanically pulled out his phone and dialed the private investigator: “Have you found her?” “Not yet…” The other person hesitated. “Ms. Elara is very cautious. She’s only using cash, and her hotel registrations are under fake names… But we found she contacted a few media outlets…” Donovan frowned deeply: “What media?” The sound of rustling paper came from the other end of the line: “Mainly entertainment and music magazines, seems to be related to Ms. Seraphina’s award-winning piece…” Before he could finish, a push notification popped up on Donovan’s computer. [Breaking News! Rising Pianist Seraphina’s Award-Winning Work Accused of Plagiarism, Original Composer Revealed to Be Donovan Corp’s Young Mistress!] The accompanying image was a photo of my “Dirge” manuscript, provided by me, side-by-side with Seraphina’s award-winning score. The similarity was over 90%. Donovan’s temples throbbed. Just then, the butler rushed in frantically: “Sir, young master Caleb is missing! Surveillance shows he took a taxi by himself from the mansion! He had previously installed a tracker on Ms. Elara’s phone; he seems to know where she is.” As raindrops began to pelt the windowpane, I had just finished packing. The weather forecast said heavy rain tonight. I hoped my flight wouldn’t be delayed. The doorbell suddenly rang, and my body stiffened. Only Mr. Sterling, the lawyer, knew my room number at this hotel, and our scheduled meeting was in two hours. Through the peephole, I saw an unexpected figure. Caleb stood outside, completely soaked, his small face indistinguishable between rain and tears. He was tightly clutching a teddy bear. It was the birthday gift I had given him last year. My fingers hovered over the doorknob, trembling slightly. Outside the door, Caleb started ringing the doorbell again, crying: “Mom… I know you’re in there… Please open the door…” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly stepped back. The doorbell and cries continued for nearly ten minutes, finally turning into desperate pounding. “Mom… I was wrong… I truly know I was wrong…” Caleb’s voice was already hoarse. “Dad and I shouldn’t have been mean to you… Please, give me another chance…” I leaned against the wall beside the door, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. I couldn’t be soft, couldn’t repeat the same mistakes. After what felt like an eternity, silence finally fell outside the door. I looked through the peephole again. Caleb was curled up outside my door, like an abandoned puppy. His school uniform was completely soaked, and the teddy bear lay dirty beside him. My tears finally fell, but I still didn’t open the door. Another half hour passed. The elevator chimed, followed by Donovan’s anxious shouts: “Caleb!” Through the peephole, I saw Donovan scoop up his semi-conscious son, his face showing a panic I had never witnessed before. His gaze suddenly fixed on my door, as if he could see through the thick wood directly into my eyes. “Elara…” His voice was hoarse beyond recognition. “I know you can hear me… I’m sorry, we were wrong. It was because we felt insecure that we kept testing your love. Seraphina was someone we hired; we don’t love her at all. We just used her to put on a show for you. We were wrong. We love you. Please open the door, okay?” I bit my lip fiercely until I tasted blood. Donovan stood outside the door for a long time. Finally, he left with a “You calm down first. I’ll take Caleb to the hospital, and then I’ll come back for you.” In the medical room of the Donovan mansion, the family doctor hooked Caleb up to an IV. “It’s just a cold and fever. He’ll be fine in a few days.” The doctor told Donovan, “However, the child’s emotions are very unstable. It’s best not to provoke him.” Donovan nodded. After the doctor left, he sat by his son’s bed, looking at the small face, so similar to his own, burning crimson. “Dad…” Caleb suddenly opened his eyes, his voice weak but exceptionally clear. “You lied to me.” Donovan started: “What?” “You said Mom would never leave us…” Caleb’s tears flowed down his temples into his hairline. “You said as long as we kept testing her, she’d love us more and more…” Donovan’s throat tightened. He couldn’t utter a word. “Now she doesn’t want us anymore…” Caleb’s voice suddenly rose, sharp with the typical intensity of a child. “It’s all your fault!” The medical room door was abruptly pushed open, and the old butler poked his head in, flustered: “Sir, bad news! Something’s happened at the company.” Donovan’s eyes instantly turned cold. He took one last look at his son, then turned and strode out. He had no choice but to deal with company matters first, but he didn’t expect that in just that short time, I would discard the tracker Caleb had installed on my phone, leave the city, and vanish without a trace! Three days had passed. Donovan had mobilized all his contacts, even reaching out to several old friends who preferred to stay out of the public eye, yet he still couldn’t find a single trace of me. I was like a drop of water, evaporated from the city where I had lived for ten years. The phone rang abruptly. Donovan practically lunged for his desk. “Did you find her?” he asked immediately. “Mr. Donovan, it’s the preschool…” The assistant’s voice was hesitant. “Young master Caleb had a bit of a situation at preschool…” When Donovan arrived at the preschool, he could hear Caleb’s heart-wrenching sobs from afar. The sound was like a dull knife, scraping at his eardrums. In the classroom, five-year-old Caleb was curled up in a corner, his small face streaked with tears, his expensive custom school uniform crumpled around him. Several teachers stood by helplessly, while at the other end of the classroom, a few children were pointing at Caleb and whispering. “What’s going on?” Donovan strode into the classroom, the coldness in his voice making the room temperature feel as if it had dropped several degrees. “Mr. Donovan…” The homeroom teacher nervously came forward. “Today in music class, they taught ‘My Good Mom,’ and Caleb suddenly…” “They said my mom doesn’t want me anymore!” Caleb abruptly looked up, his bloodshot eyes flashing with anger. “Dad, tell them it’s not true! Mom is just… just temporarily angry…” Donovan’s throat bobbed. He crouched down, wanting to hug his son, but Caleb forcefully pushed him away. “Say something!” Caleb’s voice was shrill and distorted. “You said Mom would never leave us!” The classroom was utterly silent. The whispering children were quickly pulled away by their parents, and the teachers discreetly withdrew. Donovan knelt on one knee, his expensive suit pants stained with dust, but he didn’t notice. “We will find Mom,” he tried to make his voice sound convincing, but even he couldn’t convince himself. Caleb suddenly lunged at him, his small fists raining blows on his chest: “It’s all your fault! It’s all because you kept testing Mom! Now she doesn’t want us! She hates us!” Donovan let his son vent, until the small hands ran out of strength and fell limply. He pulled Caleb into his embrace. The boy sobbed on his shoulder, warm tears soaking his shirt. “Let’s go home,” Donovan said softly, picking up his son and walking out. In the hallway, he vaguely heard parents whispering: “I heard Mrs. Donovan got a divorce… now she doesn’t even want her child…” Donovan’s eyes instantly darkened, scaring the person into immediate silence. He strode away, holding Caleb, his back as rigid as an iron slab. Half an hour later, at the Donovan mansion, Seraphina stood at the door, holding an umbrella. After her plagiarism was exposed, her reputation plummeted. With no other options, she had to seek Donovan’s help again. She shakily rang the doorbell. When the staff opened the door, she immediately put on a smile. “Mr. Donovan, I heard Caleb wasn’t feeling well at school?” She handed a meticulously prepared toy and snacks to the butler, her voice full of concern. “I specifically came to see him…” Donovan stood on the stairs, coldly looking down at her: “Get out.” Seraphina’s smile froze: “I just wanted to help…” “I don’t care how you got in, just get out now.” Donovan’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “I don’t need you anymore, do you understand?” Seraphina’s face turned pale, and she instinctively took a step back. She had never seen such a look in Donovan’s eyes. It was as if he was looking at a corpse. “I… I was just thinking that Ms. Elara left, so…” Her voice began to tremble. “Shut up.” Donovan’s voice was very soft, yet it sent a chilling cold through Seraphina. “From now on, if you dare to mention her name again, I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sun. Do you understand?” Seraphina nodded frantically, her high heels catching on the threshold, almost making her fall. She stumbled towards her car, her heart pounding almost out of her chest. As night deepened, in the Donovan mansion, Donovan stood at the door of Caleb’s room, watching his son, who had finally fallen asleep. Even in his sleep, the boy was restless, tears still on his small face, clutching the dirty teddy bear tightly. Donovan quietly closed the door and walked to the study. On the desk, the child custody lawyer’s letter was still spread open, next to all the reports he had gathered about my whereabouts. All useless information. He pulled open a drawer and took out a photo album. It was full of my pictures, from when I first arrived at the Donovan house at eighteen, to a family gathering last year. His fingertips gently traced those smiling faces. He suddenly realized that in most of the photos, I was smiling alone, while he always stood far away, expressionless. A drop of water fell onto the album. Donovan paused, then realized they were his own tears. Outside the window, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating his pale face. Thunder roared. Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in another city, piano music flowed from a recording studio. I wore headphones, my fingers precisely adjusting parameters on the mixing console. After this period of treatment, my wrist, once wrapped in bandages, was now moving freely. Only upon close inspection could one see the small scars. “Third measure again, violin part a little softer,” I said into the microphone, my voice carrying through the glass to the band. The sound engineer handed me a cup of hot tea, unable to help but praise: “Ms. Elara, your ear is truly remarkable. I couldn’t even detect an issue in that segment.” I smiled and took the cup. The ring mark on my ring finger had faded to almost invisible. The studio’s logo sparkled on the cup’s surface—[Dirge Music]. This was the studio I had founded with funds from a secret investment five years ago. This money had always been kept in an unregistered account. Not even Donovan knew about it. During a break, my assistant hurried in: “Ms. Elara, the interview with ‘The Musician’ magazine is scheduled for 3 PM this afternoon. They want to focus on your new composition process…” “Tell them they can discuss composition, but not my personal life,” I interrupted, my fingertips unconsciously rubbing the scar on my inner wrist. The assistant hesitated: “But the editor-in-chief said… readers are very concerned about you and Donovan Corp…” My eyes suddenly turned cold: “Then cancel the interview.” “No, no, they promised to only talk about music!” The assistant quickly corrected himself, secretly regretting his slip. Everyone in the studio knew that this seemingly gentle boss never budged on matters of principle, and certain topics were strictly off-limits. The afternoon interview went unexpectedly smoothly, until, at the very end, the female reporter with round-rimmed glasses suddenly asked: “Ms. Elara, I heard you were once a concert pianist. Why did you switch to behind-the-scenes composition?” The recording studio instantly fell silent. I gazed at the pen swinging on the reporter’s chest, a limited-edition Montblanc. Donovan had once given me a similar one. “Because of an accident,” I answered calmly, slowly rolling up my shirt sleeve to reveal the hideous scar on my wrist. “My wrist was injured, and I missed the optimal time for treatment.” The reporter gasped, and the camera immediately zoomed in on the scar. I didn’t shy away; instead, I turned my wrist towards the camera: “Comminuted fracture. The doctor said that if I had had surgery two hours earlier, I could have recovered 80% of its function.” My voice was soft, yet it resounded clearly in the recording studio: “But at the time, someone decided to save another patient with minor injuries first.” The interview video was released at 8 PM that night. By 9 PM, it had already soared to the top of the trending topics. The title was shocking: [Breaking! Genius Pianist Elara Exposes Wrist Injury Inside Story: Donovan Corp CEO Delayed Treatment to Save Mistress.] Donovan Corp’s PR department was in chaos. The CEO’s office phone rang incessantly. Donovan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, my close-up from the interview on his phone screen. The image of me calmly displaying my scar, my expression serene, made his heart grow cold. It wasn’t the Elara he remembered. The Elara who would be overjoyed by his single word, who would cry heartbrokenly over Caleb’s mere glance, was now like an ice sculpture in front of the camera, even her anger was controlled. “Mr. Donovan, the stock price has fallen seven points…” The CFO’s voice came over the phone. “The board of directors is demanding an emergency statement…” Donovan hung up and clicked on another furiously flashing message group. The group was wildly circulating a recording of Seraphina bragging at a party about how she “handled the Donovan father and son” with foul language. At the end of the recording, she boasted: [What’s “Dirge”? Mrs. Donovan’s entire life is just my stepping stone…] His eyes instantly turned cold. He made a call. “Give Seraphina a lesson.” Late at night, Seraphina left her apartment, still anxious about how to mitigate the negative impact of her plagiarism. She didn’t notice a black van silently trailing behind her. A screech of brakes ripped through the night, followed by a loud “bang.” Bystanders rushed over in a panic, only to see a car skewed against a barrier, all airbags deployed, Seraphina lying face down on the steering wheel, covered in blood. The next morning, Donovan was chairing a crisis management meeting when his secretary rushed in and whispered a few words. He announced a recess without changing his expression, only to smirk when he returned to his office: “It’s handled cleanly?” “Yes, Mr. Donovan,” the man in black said in a low voice. “The car was tampered with, but it won’t be fatal, just a lesson. The hospital has also been taken care of; she won’t remember the details.” Donovan nodded, his gaze falling on the latest issue of “Financial Weekly” on his desk. The cover featured a report on my studio. The accompanying photo showed me guiding young musicians, my profile appearing particularly soft yet resolute under the light. He had found me. But I, it seemed, no longer belonged to him. Rainwater streamed down the studio’s glass window. I stood at the mixing console, my fingertips gently tapping the desk in time with the melody in my headphones. Suddenly, a rapid knocking interrupted my work. “Ms. Elara, there’s a child at the front desk…” My assistant pushed open the door, her expression complex. “He says he’s your son.” My fingers paused in mid-air. I slowly took off my headphones. Through the half-open door, I saw Caleb, soaked through, standing at the front desk. His school uniform pants were muddied, and he was tightly clutching a rain-dampened homework notebook. “Let him in.” My voice was calm, devoid of discernible emotion. Caleb practically burst into the recording studio, his small frame looking particularly frail amidst the expensive equipment. He looked up, rain and tears mingling as they streamed down his face: “Mom… I finally found you. I got a perfect score on my test… Look…” He shakily opened his homework notebook. The handwriting inside was blurred by the rain, but the bright red “100” was still clearly visible. I remembered, I had once promised that if Caleb got a perfect score, I would take him to Disneyland. I took the homework notebook, my expression cold, “Why aren’t you at school?” “I… I snuck out…” Caleb suddenly knelt, his small hands desperately clutching my clothes. “Mom, please come back, okay? I promise I won’t ever bully you with Dad again! I’ll only listen to you from now on!” The recording studio was terrifyingly silent, save for the sound of rain hitting the window. I crouched down, meeting my son’s gaze, but I didn’t help him up. “Caleb, do you know why I had to leave?” Caleb frantically shook his head, big tears streaming down his face: “Because Dad and I were mean to you, even though we loved you, we still bullied you… But we really know we were wrong…” “No,” my voice was soft. “You still haven’t realized your mistake.” I took out a stack of photographs from a drawer and spread them on the floor— They were all the secretly taken images from the Donovan family study, and the photos of Caleb’s glass jars filled with my hair. “Healthy children don’t collect their mother’s hair. Normal husbands don’t monitor their wives’ every move,” I said, pointing towards the school roof dimly visible through the rainy curtain outside the window. “There’s a parent-child activity there today. I’ll take you to see what true love is.” The school activity room was filled with laughter and joy. I stood in the corner with Caleb, watching parents lift their children high, listening to their unreserved praise and encouragement. “Mom, that little girl fell down…” Caleb suddenly whispered. I looked at the little girl, about four years old, who had tumbled to the ground not far away. Her mother immediately crouched down, but didn’t rush to help her up: “Sweetheart, can you stand up by yourself? Mommy’s here waiting for you.” The little girl stopped crying and smiled, picking herself up and throwing herself into her mother’s outstretched arms. Caleb’s eyes were wide, and his small hand unconsciously tightened its grip on my fingers: “Her mom… isn’t worried she’ll run away?” “True love isn’t about restraint, it’s about trust. Like a kite, if the string is held too tightly, it will break.” Caleb nodded, seeming to understand, but his eyes gradually grew confused. Just then, the activity room door was violently pushed open. Donovan burst in, bringing with him a chilling aura. “Caleb!” His roar instantly silenced the entire room. Several children were startled and hid in their parents’ arms. Donovan strode over and grabbed Caleb’s wrist: “Who gave you permission to skip school?” Caleb stumbled from the yank, but then suddenly struggled: “I’m not going back! I want to be with Mom!” I let go of his hand. I chose to ignore Donovan and Caleb’s intense stares, turning to leave. In the car ride back, Caleb was huddled in the corner, softly sobbing. Donovan, recalling my indifferent gaze earlier, irritably loosened his tie. “What is it?” On the other end of the line, Mr. Sterling’s voice was filled with anxiety: “Mr. Donovan, bad news! Linwood Group just released information saying they have evidence of our illegal surveillance! The board of directors is demanding an emergency meeting!” Donovan’s knuckles turned white. Three days later, the entertainment world exploded. [Elara Posts Accusation: Former Husband Mentally Abused Her.] The article detailed Donovan’s years of pathological control over me, sending shockwaves across the internet! Late that night, I was working late at the studio. As I turned off the lights and prepared to leave, a strong smell of alcohol hit me. “Elara…” Donovan leaned against the doorframe, his tie loose, his eyes bloodshot. “…Are you satisfied now?” I said: “Please leave.” “I asked if you’re satisfied now!” Donovan suddenly erupted, punching the wall. My expression remained unchanged: “I merely brought the truth to light.” Donovan suddenly laughed, a sound more awful than crying: “What will it take for you to come back?” He staggered forward, trying to grab my hand: “What do you want? My life?” I took a step back, avoiding his touch: “Only on the day I die.” My voice was as light as a sigh, “After all, only dead things will belong to you forever, won’t they?” Donovan seemed stunned by my words. As he left, he turned back one last time to look at me, standing in the light. Rain lashed against the windows of the black car. I slowly awoke in the back seat. A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head, and my wrists were chafed raw by coarse ropes. I squinted, discerning the fleeting scenery outside through the rain. They were driving towards the winding mountain roads on the outskirts of the city. “Awake?” Donovan’s voice came from the front seat, laced with a pathological tenderness. “Go back to sleep for a bit; we’ll be there soon.” I didn’t make a sound, quietly wiggling my bound ankles. The car rounded a sharp bend, and familiar scenery flashed past— This was the road to the old Donovan estate. The mansion had been vacant for years, nestled deep within the dense woods halfway up the mountain. Three hours later, I was locked in an upstairs bedroom. Thick curtains blocked all light, only a sliver of light seeped in under the door. The lock turned, and Donovan walked in carrying a tray of food. He had changed clothes, his hair neatly combed, as if this weren’t an abduction, but some formal date. “Eat something.” He placed the tray by the bedside and reached out to touch my face, but I turned my head away. Donovan’s hand froze in mid-air, his eyes gradually darkening: “Do you have to be like this? We can clearly start over…” “Unlawful confinement is a criminal offense.” My voice was hoarse from dehydration. “If you let me go now, I can pretend nothing happened.” “Let you go?” Donovan suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the empty bedroom. “Let you live freely abroad?” He abruptly gripped my chin: “Listen closely. You belong only to me. For this entire life!” I looked directly into his frantic eyes, calmly saying: “Then you’ll only get a corpse.” Donovan’s eyes turned cold. He staggered back two steps: “Then we’ll die together.” I counted the minutes until silence completely fell outside the door. I struggled to move to the window, tearing open a corner of the curtain with my teeth—outside was a steep cliff, rainwater snaking across the glass like rivers. After an unknown amount of time, I was too weak to even get up. I refused all food and water, my lips cracked and bleeding. Sounds of an argument came from outside the door, and a childish voice was especially clear. “Dad! Are you crazy? Mom will die!” “Shut up! She doesn’t want you, and you’re still defending her?” “You were the one who tested her! You were the one who hurt her! I hate you!” After a struggle, the muffled thud of a heavy object falling. I struggled to crawl towards the door, hearing Caleb’s muffled sobs: “I’m calling the police… I’m going to save Mom…” “How dare you!” Donovan’s enraged roar rang out. My heart almost stopped. I used all my strength to crash into the bedside table. The shattering sound of a vase hitting the floor finally drew attention. The door was violently pushed open, and Caleb’s small figure rushed in. The boy’s left cheek was swollen and red, but his eyes widened the moment he saw me: “Mom!” Caleb shakily pulled out his phone: “I… I secretly called the police… they’ll be here any minute…” Donovan stood at the doorway, his face ashen, like a zombie. Police sirens grew louder, but he showed no intention of escaping. He just stared intently at me: “Why… why can’t you just love me…” I didn’t answer. Donovan offered no resistance, calmly extending his hands for the handcuffs. When the officer asked if I wanted to press charges, Donovan looked back at me, his gaze so unsettling that even the officer took a half-step back.

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For fifty long years, Clara had poured her entire life into Arthur. When he was injured and disabled during a mission, she quit her respectable and stable job as a TV anchor, staying by his side, massaging his legs daily. He’d claimed he never wanted children, and for that, she suffered ten miscarriages, leaving her permanently infertile. Yet, not once did she utter a single word of complaint. Everyone used to say Arthur had won the cosmic lottery, blessed beyond measure to have a wife like Clara. But it wasn’t until Arthur finally passed away, after Clara had devoted her entire life to him, that she realized that in his eyes, she was never a blessing. She was merely an obstacle, a burden preventing him from being with his real wife and child. “How could that be? I’m Arthur’s wife, why can’t I get his death certificate?” At the City Hall Registrar’s office, a white-haired Clara clutched Arthur’s ashes, utterly bewildered as she questioned the clerk. “Ma’am, only immediate family can process a death certificate. According to our database, you are still registered as unmarried.” Clara’s trembling hand reached for her reading glasses, her gaze scanning the computer screen again and again. The clerk hadn’t lied. After fifty years with Arthur, her marital status still read: UNMARRIED! Before she could even process this bombshell, the clerk added, “We found that a Mr. Arthur was married fifty years ago. His wife was Vanessa, and they even had a child named Leo.” “Although Ms. Vanessa has passed away, you can reach out to Mr. Leo to process Mr. Arthur’s death certificate.” The moment she heard the names Vanessa and Leo, Clara felt a ringing in her ears, her world tilting on its axis. But… wasn’t Vanessa his *late brother’s* wife? His widowed sister-in-law? And Leo, his nephew? How had they suddenly become his wife and son? What was she, then? All these years, she’d tirelessly cared for Arthur, tended to the ailing Vanessa… What did that make her? A maid? Clara stumbled out of the City Hall Registrar’s office, her mind a dizzying blur. On the street, her phone buzzed with a call from Leo. “Aunt Clara,” Leo’s voice chirped, laced with a smug, almost gleeful tone, “Uncle Arthur left his entire estate to me. You don’t mind, do you?” “After all, I’m the last remaining bloodline of the Hamilton family. But he did leave a will, giving you a spot in the family mausoleum. Later, you can be buried alongside him.” “It’s our way of thanking you for taking care of him and my mom all these years.” Clara couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. Fifty years of sacrifice, all for a chance to be buried next to him after death! Arthur, even on his deathbed, was still looking out for his “son.” Had he not once considered how *she* would live, with no job, no pension, facing the rest of her days utterly alone? Any lingering affection Clara had for Arthur finally evaporated, replaced by a burning hatred for the fifty years of deceit. She gazed at the urn in her hands, clutched so many times it was slick with sweat. She wanted to smash it on the spot! But fate, it seemed, wouldn’t even grant her that small catharsis. A runaway truck barreled towards her— *CRASH!* Clara’s vision exploded into a blinding, searing red. People seemed to be gathering around her, whispering and pointing. “Oh, I know that old lady. Her husband just passed, and she has no kids of her own. Guess it was her time, too.” “Yeah, completely alone in the world. Going with her husband, that’s not so bad. Maybe they’ll find love again in the next life.” No, no! Clara’s spirit furiously shook its head. If there truly was a next life, she would absolutely never, ever get involved with Arthur Hamilton again! … “Clara, have you thought this through?” “Are you truly going to give up the anchor job you worked so hard for, abandon your career, just to take care of your husband?” “You’re the backbone of our station, Clara! And you know there’s a scholarship for overseas study, an exchange program, leaving in seven days. This kind of opportunity is once in a lifetime. I’d already decided to put your name forward. Please, think about it carefully!” Clara stared at Director Hayes, the heartbroken head of the TV station, needing a moment to process his words. Arthur’s accident, her resignation—wasn’t this what happened in 1977? She had… reincarnated? 2 Clara didn’t hesitate. She clasped Director Hayes’s hand firmly. “Director, you’re absolutely right! I shouldn’t give up my future!” “Consider that resignation letter as never submitted!” Director Hayes let out a sigh of relief, giving her a gentle pat. “I’m glad you came to your senses, Clara.” “You’re about my daughter’s age, so don’t mind me for saying this, but giving up your career for a man is never a wise choice.” Clara nodded, a bittersweet ache in her heart. In her previous life, it had taken her an entire lifetime to learn that lesson. Thankfully, in this life, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to waste her love and devotion on the heartless Hamilton family. She glanced at the list Director Hayes was holding and spotted a familiar name. Director Hayes noticed her gaze and smiled. “Julian is a top anchor at the national network now. I remember he was your senior in college, right? You two can look out for each other abroad.” “Oh, I’ll contact him now. You can fly together on the private jet that day.” Clara thought of Julian, always so refined and gentle, and a flicker of anticipation stirred within her. Julian Miller. It had indeed been a long time. Returning home from the TV station, Clara reached for the doorknob, but paused, hearing Vanessa’s soft, syrupy voice from inside. “Arthur, you married me for Leo’s sake, giving Clara a fake marriage certificate to keep her in the dark. Now you’re injured, and I can’t quit my job to care for you and Leo, so you’re faking emotional instability to trick her into coming back.” “You’ve done so much for me. I truly don’t know how to thank you.” Arthur’s clear, deep voice replied, but his words pierced Clara’s heart like knives. “Don’t mention it, Vanessa. We grew up together. You chose my brother back then, but that doesn’t mean there’s no affection between us. My brother’s gone; it’s my duty to care for you and your son. The Hamilton family fortune will only ever go to Leo.” “As for Clara… you know I love her, and I’ve certainly wronged her. But she’s content with simple things; she doesn’t care about titles or empty promises. When we’re gone, being buried together will be enough compensation.” Vanessa’s voice returned, “But if she found out how you’re treating her, wouldn’t she leave you?” Arthur chuckled, his tone brimming with arrogant confidence. “How could she? She’s always been carefree and easygoing. As long as we don’t tell her, she won’t know. Besides, even if she did find out, she loves me too much to ever leave.” “I give my companionship to you, and my love to her. Isn’t that perfectly fair?” Clara’s fingers, wrapped around the doorknob, clenched abruptly. Arthur was utterly shameless, and far too confident. He actually believed Clara would endure all her grievances for love of him. But alas, she was no longer the Clara of her past life, the one who loved him to her very bones. Clara lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear, then pushed the door open. The room fell silent in an instant. The dashing man in uniform, with his strong brows and captivating gaze, sat in his wheelchair, his lips slightly red. What they had just been doing was painfully obvious. A flicker of panic crossed Arthur’s eyes, quickly masked by the same irritable demeanor he’d displayed recently. “Clara, coming home so late? Are you trying to starve me?” Ever since his accident, his personality had become volatile and unpredictable, a far cry from his former gentle and considerate self. If she hadn’t just overheard his conversation with Vanessa, Clara would never have known he was faking it. All just to make her feel soft, to make her quit her job and return to care for him, to become the tireless, dutiful maid of the Hamilton household! Noticing Clara’s less-than-pleased expression, Vanessa quickly stepped in to play the peacemaker. “Now, now, Arthur. Clara’s planning to quit her job to come back and take care of you, isn’t she? Maybe she just got delayed on her way home from work.” Arthur, who had been as cold as an iceberg moments ago, instantly softened. “It’s alright, Vanessa. I was just giving her a hard time. She’s been so thoughtless.” “Your delicate stomach can’t wait for her to come back to cook, and Leo is still so young. How can I let you two wait?” Vanessa playfully tapped his wheelchair. “It’s not that serious… Ouch!” She cried out, and Arthur nearly sprang from his wheelchair in alarm. “Vanessa, what’s wrong?” “Nothing major. Just a splinter in my hand.” But Arthur still looked worried. He grabbed Vanessa’s hand and pulled her towards the bedroom. “A woman’s hands are delicate treasures. How is this not serious? We’re going upstairs to put some cream on it!” They left, oblivious to Clara, their intimate atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. Clara had thought her heart was beyond stirring, yet a sharp pang shot through her. He kept spouting platitudes about how precious a woman’s hands were, but she had countless times complained about her hands, chapped and sore from laundry, longing for a fancy moisturizer. Arthur had bought one, but he’d given it to Vanessa. He’d said, “Her job is special; she needs it more.” Back then, Clara couldn’t understand why his sister-in-law, a primary school teacher, would need hand cream more than she, a TV anchor who needed presentable hands. She could only attribute it to Arthur’s kindness towards his widowed sister-in-law. Now she understood. It wasn’t that women’s hands were precious; it was Vanessa’s hands that were precious to him. He simply didn’t care about her; he cared more about Vanessa. Thankfully, in seven days, she would be on a plane, flying across the ocean, far away from the Hamilton family’s sordid, twisted mess, never to return. 3 Clara quietly prepared dinner. She was an excellent cook, and Leo, smelling the delicious aroma, scampered out of his room. Seeing Clara carrying a steaming bowl of seafood porridge, a smirk, full of pure malice, spread across his small face. He stuck out his leg. Clara stumbled, the hot porridge splashing all over her, making her cry out in pain. But her cry was instantly drowned out by Leo’s wails. “Aunt Clara! I know you don’t like me, but how could you intentionally scald me?” “Waaah! Mommy, it hurts so much!” Hearing the cries, Vanessa and Arthur rushed over. Vanessa hugged Leo protectively, her eyes welling up with tears. “Clara, if you have an issue with me because of your resignation, take it out on me, don’t pick on my Leo!” Clara tried to explain, but Arthur brutally pushed her away. She staggered back, her waist slamming into a nearby cabinet, the pain so intense she nearly couldn’t straighten up. Arthur seemed blind to her suffering, speaking with disgust, “Clara, Leo is just a child! He’s my late brother’s only son! How can you be so vicious?” Clara looked up, glancing at the small, nail-sized redness on Leo’s arm, then down at the angry blisters covering her own arm. It was utterly ironic. For such a tiny scratch, he’d slapped such a heavy accusation on her. Yet, for that tiny scratch, Arthur was beside himself with worry, even insisting on taking Leo to the hospital. Before leaving, Leo, nestled in Arthur’s arms, stuck out his tongue at Clara. Clara watched his triumphant, mocking face and suddenly remembered the time he’d had a high fever. Vanessa was nowhere to be found, busy with who-knew-what, and Arthur was away on a mission. Clara came home from work to find Leo burning up with fever, almost delirious. The last bus had already left, and there were no taxis around to take them to the hospital. She stumbled and ran, carrying Leo on her back, all the way to the hospital, where she stayed by his side, hooked up to an IV drip for two days. She had truly loved Leo like her own child. Having no children of her own in her previous life, she had poured all her energy into supporting him. The inheritance her parents left her, she hadn’t spent a dime on herself, instead buying Leo a car and a house. But what had it all amounted to? That smug, self-satisfied phone call just before her death, and the malicious taunt from the child before her now, made Clara feel utterly worthless. True love wasn’t enough; her sincerity was met with nothing but deceit. Leo, at such a young age, had already gone completely astray. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to give him anything more. She turned and walked back to her room to treat her own wounds. The blisters on her arm were alarmingly large. Gritting her teeth, she used a needle sterilized over a flame to pierce them, then sprinkled on some medicine powder, but the pain was still excruciating. To distract herself, Clara started packing her luggage. After half a day of effort, she only managed to fill a single, small bag. It was almost laughable. In all her years with Arthur, she owned only a few changes of clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes. Her few pieces of jewelry were all heirlooms from her deceased parents. The Hamilton family wasn’t poor. Arthur’s parents were retired military, and Arthur himself had been a Colonel in the army, earning a generous monthly stipend of several hundred dollars. Yet, she calculated, all these years, she had never received a single cent from Arthur. In fact, she’d used her own salary to supplement their household expenses, never daring to spend money on herself. But Vanessa, a primary school teacher earning a modest salary, was adorned with a collection of gold necklaces and bracelets. Clara once again realized Arthur’s blatant favoritism, a thin, sharp thorn piercing her heart. She continued packing, finally reaching into the very back of the drawer where she’d carefully hidden her two marriage certificates. She still remembered the day Arthur brought them home, his face etched with guilt. “My brother hasn’t been gone long, so we can’t have a big wedding, Clara. I’m so sorry to put you through this.” “From now on, you’ll be the lady of the Hamilton house. I promise to be good to you.” Now, looking back, was he truly feeling guilty about not having a big wedding? His two short sentences, both utter lies, had deceived her for a lifetime, leaving her utterly heartbroken! Clara fought back tears, ripping the two fake certificates, now no more than worthless paper, into tiny shreds. 4 By the time Arthur returned from the hospital with Vanessa and Leo, Clara was already in bed. But because of the searing pain in her hand, her sleep was restless. The moment Arthur pushed open the door, she woke with a jolt. Hearing the sound of his wheelchair approaching, Clara’s heart was in knots. She felt a deep aversion to Arthur now. The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him made her stomach churn. Thankfully, Arthur stopped. Vanessa’s soft voice called to him from the doorway. “Arthur, Leo seems to be having a nightmare.” At those simple words, Arthur turned and left the room without hesitation. The room fell silent again, but moments later, strange noises began to filter through from next door. Clara tried to ignore them, but the night was still, and her hearing was unnervingly sharp. She heard fragmented moans from a woman and the heavy breathing of a man. “Arthur, easy! What if Clara finds out?” “Then keep your voice down, Vanessa. Clara’s next door, doesn’t that make it even more exciting for you?” “Oh, you! Don’t call me Vanessa at a time like this, darling.” “Hmm? You want me to call you wife? You’re such a tease.” “It’s only because you said Clara was unresponsive in bed, like a cold fish. What, you don’t like me this way?” “I love it, of course I love it. I love my wife the most.” Their explicit words, raw and vulgar, drilled into Clara’s ears. She never imagined that, separated by a single wall, she would become a prop in their foreplay. And from their words, it seemed this wasn’t their first time. Clara remembered Arthur’s repeated assurances that his relationship with Vanessa was purely one of care and responsibility. She could only laugh at the bitter irony. Caring for his widowed sister-in-law? Caring for her right into his bed? He clearly wasn’t afraid of his late brother coming back to haunt him! She wondered how many nights they had spent together under the guise of Leo having nightmares. A wave of nausea surged through Clara. She struggled to get up, rushing to the bathroom to throw up. Hearing the sounds, Arthur quickly emerged from Vanessa’s room. His eyes still held traces of lingering lust, but his voice was full of feigned concern. “Clara, are you alright?” “Did you not eat tonight? Is your stomach upset from hunger?” He stepped closer, gently patting Clara’s back. As if he wasn’t the same man who had slapped her for Leo, the same man who had been having an illicit encounter with Vanessa next door. Arthur had always been like this. After slapping her, he would offer her a few sweet crumbs. Making her sad again and again, yet making her believe he still loved her. But now, she only felt revulsion, as if she would vomit up her very bile. Her stomach was empty, and a mysterious pain bloomed in her lower abdomen. Clara wanted to stand up, to distance herself from Arthur, but the moment she rose, her vision went black. Before she lost consciousness completely, she heard Arthur’s panicked shouts. “Clara, wake up!” 5 When Clara woke again, she was in the hospital. She smelled the sterile scent of disinfectant, and before she even opened her eyes, she heard Vanessa’s deliberately lowered voice beside her. “Arthur, even though Leo cried several times when he found out about her pregnancy, it’s still your flesh and blood. You don’t always have to put us first.” Her passive-aggressive tactic was always perfectly timed. Arthur’s reply was decisive. “No, we can’t keep this baby.” “I’ll lie to Clara, tell her the baby has a defect so she’ll terminate the pregnancy. Leo feels insecure, and I can’t let him be upset.” He offered Vanessa a few more words of comfort, then turned and met Clara’s gaze. A flicker of panic crossed Arthur’s face. “Clara, you… you’re awake? When did you wake up? Why didn’t you say anything?” Clara spoke, her voice hoarse. “Just now.” “Then did you hear what the doctor said?” Arthur’s cautious probe made Clara pull at the corner of her mouth in a bitter smile. “I didn’t hear anything. Weren’t you the only one here just now?” Hearing her say that, Arthur visibly relaxed, then hesitated before speaking again. “Clara, you’re pregnant. Two months along.” “But the doctor told me the baby might not be developing well. He suggested we terminate the pregnancy. Do you agree?” Arthur felt a pang of guilt. He knew Clara had longed for a child of their own for a long time. But for Leo’s sake, he had to do this. He had even prepared fake medical reports, expecting Clara to be reluctant to give up the baby. To his surprise, before he could even produce them, Clara on the hospital bed simply whispered, “Okay.” Arthur almost thought he’d misheard. “What did you say?” Clara repeated calmly, “I said, okay. Let’s terminate this pregnancy.” Born into a home devoid of love, this child would be unfortunate. Arthur didn’t want her to have a child who might steal Leo’s inheritance, and she certainly didn’t want her child to have to fight for their father’s affection. A child should have it all. If not, then it was better not to have one at all. Arthur looked at Clara, so decisive, and felt a strange tightness in his chest. For some reason, he felt like Clara had changed, somehow. But what exactly was different, he couldn’t pinpoint. He simply told himself he was overthinking things. She was being so compliant; he should be happy. Clara underwent the abortion. It was her first since her rebirth, but her eleventh across two lifetimes. When she felt that warm flow from within her, Clara still couldn’t stop her eyes from welling up. Arthur, holding her hand, tried to comfort her, “Don’t be sad, Clara. We’ll have other children.” But they both knew it was a lie. There wouldn’t be. Never again. Clara didn’t respond, and Arthur didn’t know what else to say. The atmosphere between them grew awkward. But thinking back, this was a rare moment of peace. Ever since Vanessa and Leo moved into their house, Clara had been like a different person—fussy, unreasonable. Now, looking at Clara’s pale face, Arthur’s heart softened slightly. He was about to say something, to tell her he would be good to her, that she shouldn’t always overthink things, when the hospital room door opened again. Vanessa walked in, smiling, carrying a lunchbox. “Poor Clara, you’ve been through so much. I went to that popular diner and bought some food to help you recover.” The tin lunchbox opened, revealing a generous portion of greasy braised pork, fatty pork hocks, and even some shrimp. Clara took one look and felt nauseous. But Arthur, relieved, unhesitatingly took the box and placed it before her. “Vanessa, these dishes are hard to come by. Even after Clara made such a scene, you’re still so thoughtful. You really have a good heart.” Then, he winked at Clara. Clara pretended not to see him. She knew exactly what Arthur meant: he wanted her to apologize to Vanessa, using this “kindness” as an easy out. But why should she? She hadn’t done anything wrong. The ones who had committed the sordid acts were him and Vanessa! Clara remained silent, but Vanessa immediately seized the opportunity. “Yes, I stood in line for ages, my legs almost cramped up.” As she spoke, she casually lifted the hem of her dress. Arthur’s gaze fell on Vanessa’s smooth, shapely calves, and his eyes darkened. “Clara, you eat first. I’ll take Vanessa to an acupuncturist for her leg. After all, she got cramped up because of you.” Clara looked at him. Through two lifetimes, over fifty years, she knew Arthur’s current state intimately. He was aroused. He was aroused by Vanessa, right here in the hospital, while she lay recovering from her abortion. 6 But she simply said, “Okay, go ahead.” The next two days unfolded in the same way. Vanessa would come to deliver food, always complaining of some ache or pain, and Arthur would take her out for a “massage.” Arthur completely disregarded the fact that Clara couldn’t eat any of the rich, heavy dishes Vanessa brought. After three days in the hospital, Clara had lost a noticeable amount of weight. Even the nurses looked at her with pity. Clara merely offered a faint smile, feeling no sadness at all. Perhaps she had become desensitized. Now, even if she saw Arthur and Vanessa openly together, her heart wouldn’t stir in the slightest. However, she hadn’t expected that even after retreating so completely, wanting only to leave soon, some people still considered her an eyesore. Returning from the hospital, she found her neatly packed bag had been rummaged through. A bad feeling bloomed in Clara’s chest. She checked, and her jade bracelet, hidden in the deepest corner, was gone. Her mother and father had a deep, loving relationship. Her father had died a hero years ago, and her mother had remained a widow for most of her life. This jade bracelet was a token of her father’s love for her mother, and her mother’s only keepsake. On her deathbed, her mother had given the bracelet to Arthur, asking him to put it on Clara’s wrist himself, promising to be good to her for life. Arthur had sworn then and there, “If I’m ever not good to Clara, let me be abandoned by all, and my family destroyed!” Clara had quickly covered his mouth. Back then, she truly believed Arthur. It was only after she discovered he had been deceiving her all along that she took off the bracelet. But where was the bracelet now? Clara frantically searched, turning the house upside down. Until she saw Leo, playing in the yard with a group of friends, casually swinging *her* jade bracelet. Clara’s heart leaped into her throat. “Leo, give me back my bracelet!” Leo turned, sticking out his tongue at her. “My mom doesn’t even have a bracelet like this, why should you get to have it?” “I’ll smash it before I let you wear it, nyah nyah nyah!” He carelessly tossed the bracelet to the ground. *CRACK!* The bracelet shattered into several pieces. Not content, Leo stomped on the fragments. “Useless bracelet, useless bracelet! Here, you can have it back! Go pick it up yourself!” The string of rationality in Clara’s mind snapped. She lunged forward, slapping Leo’s smug face. Leo fell to the ground, immediately bursting into loud wails. “Mean lady! She’s bullying me! I’ll tell Daddy to kick you out!” “Clara! You’re bullying Leo again!” Clara, who had just managed to pick up the shattered pieces of the bracelet and stand, was sent sprawling by an enraged Arthur. Sharp fragments instantly dug into her palm, leaving a bloody mess. Arthur didn’t even glance at her. He pushed his wheelchair to Leo’s side, cradling him and soothing him softly. “Leo, it’s Aunt Clara’s fault. I’ll make her apologize to you.” Clara, of course, refused. “He was the one who smashed my bracelet first! Do you know that bracelet was my mom’s—” Arthur impatiently cut her off, “Your mom is dead! It’s just a cheap bracelet! You can buy another one!” Clara staggered back two steps, swaying precariously. Arthur realized he’d spoken too harshly, a flicker of guilt crossing his eyes. But that flicker vanished without a trace when he saw Vanessa’s tears. “Arthur, I think Leo and I should just move out. I can take care of Leo on my own, and then we won’t interfere with your relationship.” Looking at Vanessa, who was bravely suppressing her own hurt while still considering their feelings, and then at the stubborn Clara, Arthur quickly made his choice. His face filled with disappointment. “Clara, I’m asking you one more time: are you really not going to apologize to Leo?” “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” “Fine! Fine! Your temper is getting more and more unreasonable, Clara. Don’t blame me for what happens next!” Arthur let out a furious laugh, immediately contacting his subordinates in the army. “I suspect Clara is in contact with foreign powers, selling state secrets. Take her in and interrogate her thoroughly!” The “evidence” he presented was the foreign language letter sent by the overseas professor Director Hayes had arranged! 7 Clara felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water, cold from head to toe. The current political climate was much more open than before, but being linked to foreign powers would still inevitably lead to intense interrogation. Arthur, being in the army himself, had seen those who were interrogated, even describing their horrific plight to her. Yet now, to protect Leo and Vanessa, he was willingly sending her there himself. She was escorted away. Before they left, Arthur leaned in and whispered a few words to her. “Did you think by faking a study abroad letter, you could play hard to get? That I’d kick out Vanessa and Leo for you? This is a lesson for you, Clara. Don’t get any wild ideas!” If he had only looked down, at that moment he uttered his cruel words, Clara’s last shred of hope for him had utterly died. But he didn’t. He had abandoned her countless times before; why would this time be any different? Clara didn’t resist, had no strength to. She was thrown into a dark interrogation room, the cold, damp air instantly raising goosebumps all over her. The man in charge of her interrogation was one of Arthur’s subordinates. His eyes were filled with disdain. He held a whip and lashed it directly at her! *WHIP! WHIP!* Again and again, the salt-soaked whip left deep, bleeding gashes on her body. Clara screamed, unable to control herself, her voice raw with pain. She demanded coldly, “Is this a proper interrogation method? You’re just pure sadism!” Her screams and accusations did not stir a hint of pity in the man. Instead, he whipped her even harder. “Our Colonel Hamilton is upright and just! He lost his legs for our country! And you, you collude with foreign powers? You’re a disgrace to him!” “Colonel Hamilton specifically told me to give you a good lesson. He said he’d take responsibility for anything that happened. Clara, I advise you to confess honestly: what did that letter truly say?” Was his love truly that deep? Did Arthur love Vanessa and Leo so much that he would let her endure such torture? She was in a daze from the pain, about to speak, when the man sneered again. “Forget it. You’ll just argue anyway. Beat her first! Drag her out and beat her hard!” He waved his hand, and two men immediately appeared, dragging Clara away. Four days. The nightmare lasted for a grueling four days. She didn’t know how many lashes she’d endured; her fingers were constantly bruised and swollen from being crushed. Each time Clara lost consciousness, a bucket of saltwater would be mercilessly thrown on her, jolting her awake. Her entire body felt like it had no good flesh left; every inch of her skin screamed in agony. Clara even thought she was going to die there. Until the interrogation room door opened, and Vanessa pushed Arthur in, seated in his wheelchair. Arthur looked down at her, bound and broken, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Clara, four days have passed. Do you regret what you’ve done?” “Vanessa is broad-minded; she won’t hold a grudge about you trying to push her and Leo out. Just apologize properly, and I’ll take you home.” Clara’s heart had long died, but hearing his words, she couldn’t help but let out a cynical laugh. “Oh, really? Fine. I’m sorry.” “I shouldn’t have had issues with Vanessa and Leo. I shouldn’t have interfered with your efforts to flirt with them. And most of all, I shouldn’t have appeared in the Hamilton house at all, disturbing your perfect little family of three. Is that enough?” Arthur looked at her bloodshot eyes, and a sudden panic seized him. “Clara, that’s not what I meant!” “Vanessa and I are completely innocent. I only promised my late brother I’d take good care of her and Leo. You know that, don’t you? Why can’t you understand me a little?” Vanessa added fuel to the fire. “Indeed, Clara clearly misunderstood our relationship. Arthur, perhaps Leo and I shouldn’t appear before you two anymore.” Arthur rejected the idea without a second thought. “No! This is the second time, Vanessa. I don’t want to hear you say that again. If you and Leo leave, how will I face my brother?” Arthur looked at Clara, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Clara, you truly are too unreasonable. Stay here and reflect!” He turned his wheelchair, leaving in a huff. Vanessa didn’t rush to follow him. She walked up to Clara, casually lifting her chin. “See? With just a little effort, Arthur won’t listen to a word you say.” As she spoke, she ran a hand over her slightly swollen belly, her expression smug and triumphant. “You don’t know yet, do you, Clara? I’m pregnant with Arthur’s child.” 8 Clara’s head shot up. She squeezed out a single sentence from her raw throat. “How many months?” Vanessa smiled. “Three months, actually.” Three months. A month older than the child she hadn’t been able to keep.

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Five years into our marriage, I went to the hospital, complaining that the ‘Vitamin C’ Julian insisted I take was making me feel off. The doctor looked at the bottle, then at me. “This isn’t Vitamin C, young lady.” “Doctor, could you say that again?” “I could say it a hundred times, it wouldn’t change,” the doctor pointed to the bottle. “This is Mifepristone, Blair. Taking too much of it can not only cause irreversible sterility but also severe damage to your health.” My throat tightened, a leaden weight settling there. My hand, clutching the bottle, went white. “That’s impossible. Julian, my husband, prepared this for me. He’s Dr. Davies here at this hospital.” The doctor looked up at me, his eyes holding a strange, unreadable expression. Finally, he gave a small, almost pitying smile. “Honey, maybe you should see a psychiatrist. We all know Dr. Davies’ wife. She just had their baby two months ago. You’re young, don’t get carried away with silly notions. There’s no hope for that.” He pulled out his phone and showed me a group photo. In the picture, Julian, in his white coat, was holding a baby. Standing next to him, smiling broadly, was Serena. Serena. The ‘foster sister’ he always mentioned. A sudden *buzz* filled my head. My mind went utterly blank. But the doctor had just called her Julian’s wife, and that was their baby. My breathing grew heavy. I stumbled towards the elevator, needing to reach the fifteenth floor, needing to find Julian and demand answers. The elevator doors had just closed when two familiar voices drifted through. I must have been bundled up too much today, my hat pulled low, because the people in front of me didn’t recognize me. They spoke freely, without any caution. “Julian, aren’t you worried Blair will find out? Why did you even bother begging her to come back? If you’d just married Serena earlier, you wouldn’t have to sneak around to see your kid like this.” It was Cody’s voice. Julian’s voice was cold. “She won’t find out. Cody, watch your mouth. You know what to say and what not to say around Blair.” “I really don’t get you,” Cody scoffed. “Serena was practically raised to be your wife, living in your home since she was five. You were so good to her back then, and then Blair came along and stole you away.” “You sent Serena away for Blair, then went to such lengths to bring her back. Who do you even love?” Julian was silent for a long moment before he spoke. “I love Blair, but I can’t let go of Serena either. The thought of how hard those years abroad were for her… it just messes with my head.” “Blair has the title of my wife. Let Serena have the child. At least it will give her something to lean on.” Cody sighed, then asked, “But what if you and Blair have a child? Will you be able to treat them both equally? Serena is my cousin, after all.” *Ding!* The elevator chimed as it reached a floor. The doors opened, and Julian’s words cut through the air, “That won’t happen.” Cody froze, not sure if he meant they wouldn’t have a child or he wouldn’t show favoritism. He walked out, looking utterly confused. But I understood. He meant *we* wouldn’t have a child. Because he’d already prepared the sterility drug for me, eliminating any “threat” to his child bride. The elevator was packed and stifling, but I felt like I’d plunged into an ice bath, every inch of me freezing. It wasn’t until the elevator reached the first floor again that I gasped for air like a drowning person, coughing violently. My phone vibrated in my pocket. The screen lit up—it was a screenshot of a flight ticket from Julian: [Blair, see you at the track tomorrow. Remember to wear the good luck charm I got you.] Looking at that message, my tumultuous emotions broke like a dam. Tears streamed down my face. Doctors were busy people, but for every single one of my races since we got married, even if it meant a red-eye flight, Julian would always be there, waiting for me at the finish line. He would book a restaurant in advance, buy flowers, and welcome me back victorious. Every single year. I remembered his friends teasing him, saying I was the ‘love of his life,’ the one he practically gave half his soul to get back. To get me back to the country, he’d fought with international clubs for me, sometimes putting himself in dangerous situations. To keep me, he’d invested heavily, hiring a top coaching team and opening a racing club just for me. After we got married, he spoiled me rotten. I once mumbled in my sleep about missing my mother, and he moved mountains in the middle of the night, using all his connections, finding my mother’s keepsakes before dawn. But this same Julian had secretly built another family behind my back. It all clicked. No wonder Serena knew every corner of Julian’s family home better than I did. No wonder someone who’d lived abroad for years could rattle off all his friends’ nicknames. No wonder a “foster sister” could make him cancel six months of surgeries to accompany her to the race track. There was no “foster sister.” She was the girl he’d been practically betrothed to since childhood. Just moments ago, I’d been thinking that if Serena dared to interfere, I wouldn’t tolerate it. Now I understood. I was the interloper. I was the one who needed to leave. A bone-chilling cold crept up from my feet, numbing my limbs. I used to think people broke down with screams and tears, but now I knew. True breakdown was silent. Only the relentless tears and the heart sunk to the abyss told me I was dying inside. That heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, trying to wring out every last drop of blood from me. My phone vibrated again. It was a family photo from Serena, with a caption: [Sister Blair, stop holding onto a position that doesn’t belong to you. I thought you’d be more self-aware, but I guess you’re just thick-skinned. Julian says the baby looks like him. What do you think?] I only glanced at it before closing the app. She wanted it? She could have it. But I knew Julian too well. When he set his mind on something, even if he didn’t want it anymore, he wouldn’t easily let go. My finger hovered over the dial pad for a long time before finally pressing that number I had almost forgotten. The moment the call connected, I heard my own voice trembling. “Rhys, that bet we made… is it still on?” There was a pause on the other end. Then Rhys’s deep voice came through: “Two weeks from now, the Davies family is moving. I’ll come pick you up.” I froze for half a second, then laughed. I hadn’t said anything yet, but he already knew I wanted to leave. And he was right. “Okay.” With Rhys’s influence, two weeks from now, Julian could turn the whole city upside down, and he still wouldn’t find me. That night, late into the evening, I didn’t reply to any of Julian’s messages. Julian genuinely panicked. He left work early, caught the soonest flight, and burst through the front door, only to stop short. The anxious look in his eyes instantly softened. In the warm yellow glow of the living room, I was sitting on the couch, watching TV. “Blair? You’re back?” He rushed over. “I sent so many messages…” He didn’t finish his sentence, pulling me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on my head and nuzzling me. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was so scared… Blair, I can’t live without you.” The love in his eyes was real. I knew he truly loved me. But I also knew his love wasn’t exclusively mine. A lump welled up in my throat. I squeezed my palm hard to suppress it. For a moment, I almost spilled everything. But then I extinguished the thought. If I told him, I’d truly be trapped. I gently pulled out of his embrace, trying to keep my voice steady. “The race was postponed. My phone was off, I didn’t see your messages.” Julian didn’t catch the tremor beneath my calm. He smiled, lifted a hand, and playfully tapped my nose. “It’s fine if you didn’t see them. Why the tears? I wouldn’t blame you.” “Hungry?” He rattled his car keys. His crisp shirt and trousers made him look tall and elegant, his jacket casually draped over his arm. “I booked that hot pot place you’ve been talking about. Let’s go, princess. I’ll treat you to all you can eat.” He held out his hand to me, palm up. My gaze fell on that hand, and for a moment, I was lost in thought. That afternoon, when I was eighteen, a boy on the basketball court held out his hand to me the same way. His white T-shirt was drenched in sweat, a basketball tucked under his arm, his smile more carefree than Julian’s was now. “Let’s go, princess! I’ll treat you to all you can eat today!” Back then, his heart held only me. I didn’t want to neglect my hunger, so I followed him into the hot pot restaurant. He was still the same. Julian, who never waited on anyone, now expertly rolled up his sleeves, meticulously picked out food for me. The first bite, perfectly cooked, was always for me. My bowl was piled high like a small mountain when my phone suddenly rang, jolting me back to reality. If not for that persistent ringing, I might have drowned once more in his seemingly endless affection. “Go ahead and answer it.” I lowered my gaze, stirring the sesame paste in my bowl. Julian glanced at his phone, gave me a reassuring look, and got up to take the call outside. When he returned, his eyes were filled with urgency and apology. “Blair, the hospital has an emergency surgery. I need to go quickly. I’m so sorry I can’t finish dinner with you. Tomorrow, I’ll request leave and spend the whole day with you.” I had already seen the caller ID, but I didn’t expose his lie. I just nodded. “Okay, you go.” With my permission, Julian didn’t linger. He turned and left the restaurant. Looking at the empty seat across from me, my heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, a constant ache. I had just composed myself and reached for my forks when a video call from Serena popped up. I hung up, but she called again, and again. After more than a dozen times, I finally answered. Serena’s voice was filled with her usual faux innocence. “Sister Blair, are you eating hot pot? I knew it! Julian came home today smelling of hot pot.” She emphasized the word “home,” and I heard the blatant provocation in her tone. My face went cold. “Serena, you’re being childish.” “Have you forgotten who the legal wife is? What do you think would happen if I sent our chat history to Julian right now? Who do you think he’d choose, you or me?” Serena’s eyes flickered but quickly regained their smile. “Go on, then. Send it. And don’t hang up. Let’s see who’s really childish.” I couldn’t explain why, but I actually didn’t hang up. Soon after, the background in the video shifted, and Julian’s figure appeared in the frame. Serena immediately turned, leaning softly into his arms, perfectly blocking his view of the screen. “Julian, are you still mad at me for running off with someone else back then? If I hadn’t left, would you never have found Sister Blair? Would you have married me instead?” Julian frowned. “Why are there so many ‘if only’s?” “I was just asking…” Serena’s eyes welled up, her voice even softer. “No other meaning…” After a few seconds of silence, I saw Julian open his mouth. His voice was hoarse. “Yes.” That single “Yes” emptied my heart instantly. So, even back then, his heart hadn’t been solely mine. I suddenly remembered our wedding day. Julian held my hand, facing a room full of guests, swearing an oath by his most beloved grandmother: “I, Julian Davies, will love only Blair Davies, now and forever. My body, my fortune, my life—they all belong to her.” “She can be capricious, she can make mistakes, she can even stop loving me, or fall in love with someone else, as long as she doesn’t leave me.” I had cried buckets then, believing I held the truest love in the world. Now I understood. That vow had been a lie from the very beginning. I was never his only one. Not then, not now, and certainly not in the future. I was merely a tool in his fit of pique with Serena, and after spending so much time together, he’d developed *some* feelings, reluctant to discard me. Thinking this, I forced a grotesque smile. As I smiled, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I thought I’d had at least one moment, one taste of that fervent love, but I hadn’t. From beginning to end, I was just a thief, stealing someone else’s place. I lowered my head, clutching the front of my shirt, desperate to catch my breath. But the lump in my throat wouldn’t go down. I could only let the tears fall, one by one, splashing onto the table. Julian didn’t come home that night. But I received a real-time photo of him sleeping, sent by Serena. I stared at his face for a long time, until dawn. My heart felt dead, utterly calm. I picked up my phone and called my lawyer friend, Harper. “Harper, can you draft a divorce agreement for me?” When I woke up, the house was still empty. There was a message from Julian on my phone: [Honey, the hospital was crazy busy today. My day off is canceled. Don’t be mad. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, no matter how busy I am. I got you a gift. Wait for me.] Below his message was a photo Serena had sent an hour ago. They were together by a hot spring, smiling, their faces an infuriating blur. I gripped my phone, my fingertips burning. I almost called him to ask if he was busy with surgery or busy with his child bride. But remembering my plan, I swallowed my anger and replied, “Okay.” It was better he didn’t come back. It gave me a chance to pack. All the clothes Julian had given me, I packed up, ready to donate. The framed photos on the wall, I took down and shredded. The hundred little wish cards I had written for him, I pulled out and burned to ash on the balcony. I didn’t dare get rid of too much, fearing Julian would notice something was off when he returned. The next day, Julian finally came home. The moment he saw me, he immediately put down the cake he was holding and opened his arms, walking towards me. “I’m so tired, Blair. I need a hug to recharge.” I subtly took a step back, and his embrace landed on empty air. Julian raised an eyebrow. “Still mad? Don’t be. Let me show you the surprise I prepared for you.” Without waiting for me to speak, he took my hand and led me to the car. The car drove all the way to the training track. I was curious, but then he pulled me out of the car. “Do you like it?” Julian gestured to the car in front of us. It was a custom-built race car, its body covered in shimmering pink rhinestones that dazzled the eye. A flicker of surprise crossed my face. The club’s coaches stood nearby, their voices full of envy. “I heard the modifications on this car cost almost a million dollars. He really went all out.” “Expensive? You don’t know the half of it. Our boss painstakingly put every single one of those rhinestones on himself. He almost got corneal inflammation from it.” “Blair, you have to try it! When you’re done, let us take it for a spin. The boss really spoils his wife.” Listening to their words, my initial surprise slowly faded, my eyes stinging. I forced a bitter, self-deprecating smile. Everyone said he spoiled his wife, but who knew who his “wife” truly was in his heart? His love was indeed as passionate as a summer’s day, but that passion never shone on me alone. The emotions I’d suppressed for days finally found an outlet. I slid into the driver’s seat, floored the accelerator, and the race car shot forward like an arrow. I raced around the track, channeling all my grievances, anger, and resentment into the roar of the engine. Julian stood by the track, hands in his pockets, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes fixed on me without blinking. On the fortieth lap, I saw Julian form a heart with his hands for me. Distracted, I lost my grip on the steering wheel, and the race car *thudded* against the track barrier. A sharp pain shot through my toes. Before I could fully react, Julian rushed over, pulled open the door, and scooped me into his arms, carrying me into the lounge. “Does it hurt?” He frowned, carefully lifting my foot. He dipped a cotton swab in iodine and dabbed at the wound. “This is all my fault, for letting you drive for so long.” His touch was as gentle as if he feared I would shatter like glass, and the tenderness in his eyes was thick and undeniable. But all I felt was a chilling cold. Love truly could be acted out so perfectly. My mind wandered as I reached out to touch his hair. Julian, seizing the opportunity, caught my wrist and leaned in to kiss me. “*Bang!*” The lounge door was violently flung open. Julian didn’t even look up. He casually grabbed a water bottle from the table and threw it at the door. “Get out!” I turned my head to look. Standing at the door was Serena. Julian finally saw her, and his expression shifted slightly. “Serena? What are you doing here?” Serena clutched her red forehead, biting her lip and lowering her eyes. Her clothes were splattered with mud, making her look particularly disheveled. “I lost control of the brakes during practice and crashed… I came to get the first aid kit.” Julian was silent for a few seconds, ignoring her. He picked up a bandage and gently applied it to my toe. “Sit here, don’t move. Don’t walk around with that foot injury.” He reached up, brushed a stray strand of hair from my ear, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll go check on her injury. I’ll be back in a few minutes, right by the door. Call me if you need anything.” He picked up the first aid kit and went out. The lounge suddenly fell silent, so quiet I could hear the wind outside the window. A few minutes passed. I slowly pushed open the door. The doorway was empty. There was no “right by the door.” That flicker of disappointment only lasted a moment before I suppressed it. I should have guessed, shouldn’t I? Leaning against the wall, I limped towards the race car. I really loved that car. The sky was getting dark, threatening rain, and I wanted to put it in the garage. But as I reached the car, I suddenly stopped. The car was gently swaying, accompanied by faint voices leaking from the slightly open window… Two overlapping shadows were cast on the car window, leaving just a finger-width gap. Julian had Serena pressed against the driver’s seat, his fingertips caressing her forehead. “Did that hurt when I threw the bottle?” Serena tilted her head back and pressed her lips to his, her eyes brimming with a fawning smile. “No, it didn’t. I shouldn’t have interrupted you and Sister Blair. I deserved it.” Julian frowned, biting her cheek, not too hard, not too soft. “Stop with that nonsense. You and she are both my treasures.” He squeezed her waist, a hint of roguishness in his voice. “Still got that sassy mouth, huh? Looks like I didn’t hit you hard enough.” Before the words fully left his lips, he used one hand to clamp her waist and the other to cup her jaw, kissing her fiercely. Serena struggled twice, then pushed him away, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “This is the car you gave her. I don’t want to do this here…” “Besides, Sister Blair is still waiting for you in the lounge. You said you’d be back in a few minutes.” Julian pinned her wrist above her head with one hand, while the other slid down her waist. His voice was hoarse and deep. “Still thinking about someone else right now? A few minutes is all I need for you.” Soon after, Serena’s breathing grew shallow and fragmented. She clung to his shoulder. Those intimate sounds drifted out on the wind. I was rooted to the spot, my blood freezing in my veins. My legs went weak, and I almost collapsed. A hole seemed to be brutally gouged out of my chest, the pain so intense that my vision blurred. I suddenly remembered the day the club opened. Julian had waited for my praise like a child asking for candy, but I was too overwhelmed, too busy crying to speak. He simply picked me up and carried me to the back seat of the race car. His breath was hot as he tugged at my clothes. I was equally aroused, but I still gritted my teeth and pushed him away. “Julian, racing is my ultimate dream. I want it to always be pure.” Julian froze then. I thought he would be angry, but he suddenly straightened our clothes, sat up, and held up three fingers, his eyes shining with an astonishing brilliance. “I swear, from now on, this will be my dream too. Forever and ever, I will hold racing in reverence, and I will *never* do anything in this car…” He whispered the last two words into my ear, making my face burn. Because of that promise, I had committed my life to him. But now, he was with another woman in *my* race car, desecrating the thing I held most precious. The pain made it impossible for me to stand. The car key in my hand clattered to the ground. I snapped back to reality, wanting to run, but realizing the people inside the car hadn’t even noticed the commotion outside. I forced a smile, one uglier than a cry, and bit down hard on my knuckles, stifling my sobs in my throat. It was then that the rain started. The window’s narrow gap *clicked* shut. I took one last look at the gently swaying car, bent down, picked up the key, and threw it into the nearby storm drain.

“Dad, didn’t you once mention that my childhood fiancé, the one our families arranged for me years ago, was looking for me? Tell him I’m getting married on the first of next month. I need a groom. Ask him if he’s interested.” The other end of the line went silent. “Aren’t you still insisting on marrying Liam Hayes and getting ready for the wedding? What happened? Did he hurt you?” “Dad, just ask him!” “Alright, if you’ve made up your mind, that’s all that matters. Your happiness is all I care about.” My eyes welled up as I replied, “I will be happy!” Yes, I had once loved Liam Hayes with an intense passion, convinced he was my soulmate, my destiny. Our wedding date was set, and my heart was bursting with joy, waiting to become his bride. But just a moment ago, I received the shock of my life. An hour earlier. I stood in front of the mirror, wearing a pristine white wedding dress. The gown clung to my curves, making me feel more beautiful than ever. “Ms. Adams, Mr. Hayes had this dress custom-made for you. It’s absolutely stunning! You two are truly meant to be.” Despite the sales assistant’s compliments, I couldn’t even manage a smile. My eyes scanned the room until I finally spotted Liam, my soon-to-be husband, in a secluded corner by the window. He was on the phone with someone, his face alight with an adoring smile. The sales assistant, holding a phone, blocked my view. “Ms. Adams, you have a call.” It was from the wedding planning company I’d hired. “Ms. Adams… Mr. Hayes’s team said there was a mistake with the bride’s name and that it needs to be changed to Valerie Sterling. Are you aware of this?” An indescribable wave of grief crashed over me, and tears threatened to spill. I already suspected Liam’s betrayal, but I had underestimated his sheer audacity. A month ago, when Valerie Sterling, his ex-girlfriend from five years ago, made a grand return from abroad, I had a bad feeling. And just yesterday, chasing after Liam to give him a tie, I followed him to a private club. There, I witnessed him on one knee, proposing to Valerie. Someone asked, “Liam, aren’t you marrying Sera soon? What about her, with you and Valerie like this?” Liam answered, utterly unconcerned, “Valerie’s sick, and this is her last wish. As for Sera? As long as you guys keep your mouths shut, she’ll never find out. Even if she does, she loves me too much. She’ll get it. She won’t leave.” Valerie snuggled into Liam’s arms, nodding in agreement. “I’m so sorry to put you in this position, Liam, but I don’t have much time left. This is my last wish. I’m sure the kind Ms. Adams will understand.” The two kissed passionately amidst cheers from their friends. I scrambled away from the doorway, my heart in pieces. “Hello? Ms. Adams? Are you still there? Should we still change the name?” The old Sera would have been devastated, couldn’t have imagined a life without him. But that Sera? She’s dead and gone. “Change it. And while you’re at it, book the hall next door for me too. I’ll PayPal you the deposit in a bit. Just copy everything exactly.” “Oh, and make sure to change the groom’s name for this new booking. I’ll send you the name later.” The person on the other end paused. “So, the wedding date is still the same?” “Still the same.” I took a deep breath and hung up. Just then, Liam walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “Sera, you look absolutely stunning today.” “Do I?” I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Yes, I was beautiful. But why was the man I’d loved for years, the one I was supposed to marry, abandoning me to marry another woman? “Absolutely beautiful. You’re the most gorgeous woman in the world.” Liam hesitated, then mumbled, “There’s something I need to discuss with you. I have something important on the first of next month. Could we… postpone our wedding?” “Something important?” I scoffed internally. His “something important” was marrying another woman! Not only that, he planned to use the venue I’d chosen, the date I’d picked, and keep me completely in the dark! “Fine. Postpone it.” My answer clearly surprised Liam, and a flicker of unease crossed his face. “I love you, Sera. I promise I’ll marry you. Just wait for me. I swear I’ll love you forever.” “Uh… something just came up at the company. I’ll see you at home.” Watching him rush off, I found his vows utterly laughable. He truly believed I loved him so much that I had no boundaries. That even if I knew he was marrying someone else, I wouldn’t leave him. But this time, he was wrong. I wouldn’t just leave. I would marry on the exact same day. Chapter 2 Back home, I started packing my belongings. I was halfway through when Liam returned. “Sera, I came straight home as soon as I finished up at the office. Miss me?” He pulled out a large bouquet of crimson roses and handed them to me. “I bought these just for you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay with you at the bridal shop. Forgive me, my love?” I nearly laughed out loud, seeing the roses already wilting slightly from lack of water. These were clearly the same flowers he’d grabbed from his proposal to Valerie. In his eyes, was I only good enough for his discarded proposal props? “What are you laughing at?” Seeing my smile, Liam looked a little flustered. “Nothing.” I took the bouquet, my gaze flickering, landing on a bright red lipstick stain on his collar. It was so stark, so obvious. I raised a hand and pointed to his collar. “Your shirt’s dirty.” Liam looked down, saw the mark Valerie had left when she kissed him, and his heart clenched. He stammered an explanation. “Oh, it… it must have gotten smudged somehow.” “Hmm.” I didn’t call him out. “Take it off. I’ll wash it for you.” “No, we have housekeepers. I couldn’t ask you to do it yourself.” “The housekeepers just throw things in the wash. I’ll do it properly.” Liam, thinking he’d dodged a bullet, quickly kissed me. “Sera, you’re the best.” I took the shirt, a bitter smile playing on my lips as I looked at the stain. The best? More like the easiest to trick. Perhaps I washed it with too much force, but his shirt ended up ripped. Liam didn’t seem to care. He just hugged me gently and said, “It’s fine, if it’s torn, just toss it. You can just buy me a new one.” He changed his shirt, but the scent of her perfume still lingered. I quirked my lips. “Aren’t some things better when they’re old?” “That’s true.” Liam nodded. “This shirt was really comfortable. Too bad you ruined it, or I could have worn it a few more times. You know, I’m a very loyal person.” He was a very loyal person, alright. So loyal that he still loved the girl he liked five years ago, even after she disappeared for five years and then came back. What about me? What did our five years together mean? Growing up, I never lacked admirers. After college, I applied for a job at Liam’s company. The moment I saw him, my heart was lost. But my pride kept me from making the first move. Somehow, Liam later fell for me and started pursuing me relentlessly. At first, I played hard to get, but then one day, there was a fire at the company. The fire alarm blared, sending everyone scrambling, but I was frozen stiff, paralyzed with fear. It was Liam who turned back, scooped me up, and carried me out of the burning building. In that moment, I knew. I wanted to be with him forever. Five years. Five long years. I’d never forgotten the day we got together. Liam swore to the heavens, “Sera, I promise you, I’ll only ever love you in this life.” Seeing Liam’s earnest face, I cried and said, “Liam Hayes, remember what you said today. If you ever betray me, I’ll marry another man and make you regret it bitterly!” Those vows still echoed in my ears, but his heart had already changed. No, perhaps his heart was never truly mine from the start. A sharp ache rose in my nose. I clutched the torn shirt, and tears I couldn’t hold back slipped down my cheeks. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Seeing my tears, Liam panicked, quickly pulling out tissues to wipe them away. “I’m fine.” Liam was the one who betrayed me first. So I would keep my promise. I would marry another man! Chapter 3 After finally calming me down, Liam, as usual, leaned in to kiss me, but I pushed him away. He awkwardly cleared his throat, released me, and held out his hand for a gift. “Hey, what about that gift you promised me?” I told him to wait, went back to my room, and retrieved the wedding invitations Liam and I had picked out together. I grabbed a pen, crossed out the groom’s name, and wrote my name and Ryder Blackwood’s on it. Then, I put the invitation back in the box. Downstairs, I handed him the box. “What’s this?” Liam was curious and reached to open it, but I stopped him. “Open it on the first of next month.” At that date, Liam’s hand trembled. Wasn’t that the day he was supposed to marry Valerie? “Why?” “Because the first of next month was supposed to be our wedding day, right? A perfect day.” I smiled, taping the box shut. “Now that the wedding’s postponed, I’m giving you a big gift. You’ll be surprised.” “Great, I love surprises.” He playfully poked my nose and pulled me into a hug. “Sera, I’m so happy today.” Happy? The light in my eyes faded, just like those wilting roses he’d given me, silently dying. But Liam didn’t notice. What was he happy about? Probably that he successfully proposed to another woman, assuming I was none the wiser. That evening, Liam went to take a shower. I was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through my phone, when I accidentally saw a post on Ins from one of Liam’s friends. It was a video of Liam’s proposal to Valerie. The caption read: “The love we always envied has finally found its happily ever after. Let’s celebrate tonight at our usual spot.” I froze, about to tap on it, when a comment popped up below. [You actually posted this? Did you block Sera Adams?] The friend replied: [Do you think I’m stupid? Of course, I blocked her.] I looked at the comment, a mocking smile twisting my lips. When Liam and I first started dating, he introduced me to all his best friends. They called me “Liam’s girl” and treated me like family. They’d said, “Hey, Sera, if Liam ever messes with you, just tell me. I’ll beat him up!” “Yeah, Sera, don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on him. He won’t be fooling around. If he ever finds another woman, we’ll be the first to tell you.” But now? They were all conspiring to help Liam keep the fact that he was marrying someone else a secret! In less than a second, the Ins post was deleted. Soon after, Liam emerged from the bathroom. “Sera, you—” He’d just washed his hair and hadn’t even dried it, rushing out in a panic. “What’s wrong?” I looked up at him, expressionless, as if I hadn’t seen anything. Seeing my lack of reaction, Liam visibly relaxed. “Nothing, just letting you know I’m done.” “Mm.” I got up. Just as I reached the door, I heard Liam on the phone with his friend. “Are you crazy? Delete that post right now! What if Sera sees it? I told you, she absolutely cannot know about this. Are you trying to get yourselves killed?” “Alright, alright, it’s deleted. Sera definitely didn’t see it. Anyway, you’re not coming to your own celebration? Valerie’s already here.” Chapter 4 Liam was still hesitating when I suddenly walked back in. “Who are you on the phone with?” “Oh, just Leo and the guys. They’re calling me out for a few drinks.” “Really? I haven’t seen them in ages. I’ll come along. I could use a drink too.” I wanted to see just how good their secret-keeping would be if I showed up. Liam tried every excuse to stop me, but nothing worked. He just anxiously fiddled with his phone, sending urgent messages to his friends. When we arrived at the bar’s private room, I immediately noticed Liam’s friends. All four men were sitting stiffly, politely sipping their drinks, not even having ordered any escorts. Seeing me, they all stood up in unison. “Evening, Sera! Don’t worry, tonight it’s just us guys. No one else.” I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning, I, a woman, shouldn’t be here?” They all froze, and Liam quickly squeezed my hand. “That’s not what they mean. They just don’t want you to be bored.” “I didn’t mean anything by it either. I just haven’t seen you guys in a while, and I wanted to grab a drink. Since it’s a guys’ night, I’ll just have one and head out.” With that, I picked up a glass from the table, drained it, and, pretending not to notice the fleeting smiles on their faces, turned to leave. Liam feigned reluctance and pulled me into a hug, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Alright, I’ll be home early. If you’re tired, just go to sleep. Don’t wait up for me.” I walked downstairs. I stood in a hidden spot around the corner for a moment, and sure enough, Valerie appeared. She strutted in on high heels, hips swaying, and quickly entered the private room. I stood by the door, able to clearly see everything inside. Valerie immediately settled herself onto Liam’s lap. “Seriously, why did you bring *her*? It meant I had to hide. You owe me that bag you showed me today as an apology.” Liam wrapped an arm around her, laughing. “I’ll buy you two.” Valerie giggled, hugging his strong waist and kissing him on the lips. “Ooh-la-la! You two are going to make us all so jealous! Valerie, you’re making us single guys green with envy!” “Oh, shut up, you guys! What’s there to be jealous of? Don’t you all have a few women around? Call them all! Let’s party!” Soon, they called over more women. Some were escorts, some played drinking games. A lively game of Truth or Dare began. And just my luck, Liam was the first one to get a penalty. A friend teased, “Liam, seriously, between Valerie and Sera, who do you like more?” Hearing the question, Valerie didn’t seem angry. Instead, she looked at him with a wide smile. “Be honest, now. Don’t just say it because I’m sick.” “Sera Adams.” Valerie’s face stiffened. “I’m right here!” Liam shrugged, completely unbothered. “I liked you too, but that was in the past. You were so resolute back then. Marrying you now is just to fulfill your wish because you’re sick. But Sera is the one I’ll spend the rest of my life with. We already agreed on all of this.” “Next time, don’t let this happen. Keep it quiet from Sera.” Sera is observant. If she knew he was messing around with another woman, she’d probably break up with him. But he couldn’t just ignore Valerie. She came back from abroad with a serious illness, and her last wish was to marry him. She was, after all, a woman he had deeply loved once. How could he possibly refuse her? As long as he kept it from Sera, once Valerie passed away, he would still marry Sera and take care of her for the rest of his life. That way, neither of them would get hurt. How perfect. Valerie buried her face in his chest, gritting her teeth, pretending to be nonchalant. “I don’t mind. I was the one who left you first. I’m just happy you’re spending this time with me.” “I love Liam, and I don’t want to hurt his girlfriend, so everyone, please keep this a secret for Liam!” I stood outside the door, utterly stunned, all the color drained from my face. Their words were like sharp blades, cutting into my heart, one after another. My insides felt like they were bleeding, twisted into raw knots of pain. Hearing Liam’s choice, I felt nothing but disgust. I wanted to vomit. I truly hadn’t realized that the man I’d loved for five whole years was rotten to the core! I leaned against the wall, trembling uncontrollably, the pain intense. All the strength drained from my body, and I slowly sank to the floor. It took a long time to recover. I slowly stood up, my eyes vacant, and started walking downstairs. After only a few steps, I couldn’t hold on any longer, passed out, and tumbled down the stairs. Chapter 5 “Help! Someone fell down the stairs!” Voices echoed in my ears, and then, a crowd gathered. Before my eyes closed completely, I saw Liam and his friends. They were leaving the bar, one by one. They glanced indifferently at the commotion and walked away.

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Everyone in the Special Enforcement Department knew Liam Carter, the most skilled crisis negotiator, could dismantle anyone’s psychological defenses in life-or-death situations. But he was utterly helpless against Anya Vance’s tears. Everyone said he loved Anya Vance to his very core, that he’d give her the stars and the moon. Yet, only Anya Vance knew Liam Carter’s heart belonged to another—the woman he’d always carried a torch for. The day his first love returned to the country, Anya received news of his accident on a stormy night. Rushing out, she suffered a car crash, which led to the miscarriage of her four-month-old child. Liam Carter, fresh from his first love’s welcome party, rushed to her side, his voice trembling: “It was just a drunken fling, how could you take it seriously?” Her body and heart ached, and then she heard his forced calm voice: “Maybe it’s for the best we don’t have a child now… my job creates too many enemies. A child would only make us vulnerable to threats.” Anya’s heart was ripped to shreds, but she couldn’t argue. Ten days after his first love returned, Anya walked in on them in a room together, their gestures intimately close. Liam Carter gripped her hand, his eyes bloodshot as he promised: “Anya, you have to believe me. We’re just colleagues, discussing a case.” She didn’t make a scene. She simply turned and calmly walked away. Sixty days after his first love returned, a kidnapper held a knife to Anya’s throat, grinning maniacally at Liam Carter. “Negotiator Carter, you can only choose one: your wife or your lover!” Liam Carter’s gaze was filled with sorrow, but he spoke each word with chilling clarity: “Seraphina Thorne is a highly skilled professional, a returning scholar. The Department needs her.” Just like that, Anya Vance watched, helpless, as Seraphina Thorne threw herself into Liam Carter’s arms. The deranged kidnapper then stabbed Anya six times. She fell into a coma for two months. The first thing she did upon waking was to take her marriage certificate to the department, applying for a divorce. But she didn’t get the divorce papers; instead, she got a confused look from the clerk. “Ms. Vance, you and Mr. Carter… you were never married. Is this marriage certificate fake?” Anya Vance suspected she’d misheard. Her marriage certificate, cherished for six years—the marriage she’d believed was perfect—was a lie? “That’s impossible, please check again. We’ve been married for six years…” The clerk’s eyes held a complex expression. He checked the system anyway, confirming it repeatedly before he gravely told Anya Vance, “Ma’am, falsifying official documents is a crime. I’ll consider this a joke today.” Anya Vance’s mind went blank. She stared at the photo on the certificate, the two of them leaning together, smiling. It felt utterly absurd! Connecting this with Seraphina’s return, suddenly everything made chilling sense. Liam Carter had lied about their marriage, all to bide his time and cover his tracks, waiting for his first love. She had just returned to the hospital when Liam Carter, a look of worry on his face, walked towards her. “Anya, you’re not fully recovered, why are you running around?” Anya Vance brushed his hand away and walked straight past him. Liam Carter’s gaze froze. “Are you still mad at me? But you know, the moment I chose this profession, the interests of the country and its people came before everything else… Besides, Seraphina even got hurt trying to save you.” Anya Vance looked at the man she’d called her husband. Six years, day in and day out, and he felt like a complete stranger. Of course, she had never truly seen him before. “Yes, she got hurt. She’s a hero. And me? I’m just the ungrateful wretch who can’t appreciate a sacrifice.” Anya Vance tightened her grip on the marriage certificate in her pocket, her eyes stinging. Liam Carter, what was I to you then? Just a placeholder, a way to pass the time while you waited for Seraphina to come back? Anya Vance sidestepped him and returned to her room. She drifted into an exhausted sleep, waking up in the afternoon. Soon after, an officer from Liam Carter’s team brought her a meal. But the officer didn’t leave after placing the tray down. He stammered for a moment, then gritted his teeth: “Anya, you shouldn’t be angry with Liam. You just have a bias against us officers!” Anya Vance didn’t have time to speak before the officer grew agitated. “Even though Ms. Thorne made a major mistake during the rescue operation for your mother, we’re not infallible. We put our lives on the line, but we can’t guarantee 100% safety for hostages!” “You can’t hate her because of that. That’s prejudice! Besides, Ms. Thorne was severely disciplined and reassigned to an overseas post after that. She learned her lesson. She only returned after earning a major commendation.” In that instant, Anya Vance’s mind went blank. Six years ago, during a bank robbery, her mother was taken hostage. During negotiations with the kidnapper, a young female negotiator, letting her emotions get the better of her, enraged the kidnapper, which led to the hostage being killed… Later, Anya Vance heard that the negotiator had been punished, and her family received state compensation. It was after that incident that Liam Carter walked into her life. So… that negotiator was Seraphina Thorne! So, Liam Carter had been there to atone for someone else’s mistake. Anya Vance couldn’t hear anything else, not even when the officer left. She didn’t know how long she sat there in a daze, until she slowly dialed a number. When the other person picked up, she heard her own overly calm voice: “Anya Vance accepts the department’s transfer order. Ready for deployment at any time.” 2. The pungent smell of hospital disinfectant was unbearable for Anya Vance. She ignored the doctor’s advice and checked herself out early. Her phone vibrated wildly. She glanced at it; it was Liam Carter. She had no intention of answering, so she ignored the call and blocked his number. Back home, she searched through the entire house. The engagement ring they’d once exchanged lay in a velvet box. A custom-made music box featured a tiny couple in a suit and wedding gown. A thick diary held every word of their conversations during their courtship, and then there were the wedding photos on the wall… Anya Vance stared at them for a while, then swept them one by one into a box, and finally, tossed the whole box into the trash. It felt as if some old, deep-seated wound had finally been completely stripped away from her. She looked at the intimate photos on her phone, remembering the profound happiness in each one. One showed them in the kitchen, their faces dusted with flour. Another captured them kissing at the highest point of a Ferris wheel. Anya Vance scrolled through them, deleting each one, every swipe feeling like a knife twisting in her heart, repeatedly reminding her how beautiful, and how utterly fake, it had all been. The front door opened with a creak, and the next moment, Liam Carter strode in. His face was grim. The moment he saw Anya Vance, he seemed to let out a sigh of relief. “Anya, why didn’t you answer your phone?” His voice held a hint of menace. “I called you fifty-four times.” Anya Vance paused. She hadn’t answered because he was already blocked; naturally, she wouldn’t receive his calls. “Why did you check out of the hospital?” Liam Carter took a step forward and abruptly seized Anya Vance’s wrist. “Do you know how I felt when I couldn’t find you? I thought you…” He closed his eyes tightly, unable to finish. Anya Vance frowned deeply, her voice turning cold: “Let go of me, you’re hurting me.” But Liam Carter didn’t release her. He glanced at the empty wall, his eyes stormy. “Why did you throw away our wedding photos? I knew you were still angry! Anya, you used to understand me. I wasn’t doing it for myself; I was doing it for the country! We need Seraphina for a crucial operation right now, so nothing can happen to her…” “Enough,” Anya Vance sharply pulled her hand away. “I don’t want to hear your lies anymore.” The fake marriage certificate couldn’t fool anyone, and his concern for Seraphina couldn’t fool anyone either. Anya Vance wasn’t blind! Liam Carter’s eyes were filled with disappointment. “Anya, you’ve changed.” Anya Vance almost laughed. Yes, she had changed. Because she was finally no longer foolish. “But I just want you to understand, you’re the woman I love most. I can’t live without you, I can’t…” Liam Carter’s eyes slowly turned red. He suddenly took a large stride forward, swept Anya Vance into his arms. Ignoring her struggles, he tossed her onto the bed, then pulled out a pair of gleaming silver handcuffs from his pocket and cuffed her to the headboard! Anya Vance’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Liam Carter, are you insane?!” “I was losing my mind when I couldn’t find you!” Liam Carter pressed down on her, then, losing control, kissed her. “Anya, please don’t be angry with me…” The moment her breath was stolen, Anya Vance felt a wave of intense nausea. Using her unrestrained hand, she slapped him across the face— “SLAP!” Liam Carter stopped. Anya Vance gasped for breath, her eyes bloodshot. “Get out! Who gave you permission to touch me!” “I…” Before he could speak, his phone rang insistently. He picked it up, saw the contact, and his expression subtly changed. Liam Carter immediately stood up and hurried out. “Anya, wait for me. I have something urgent, I’ll be right back…” In a flash, he was gone. Only Anya Vance’s ragged breathing filled the room. She struggled, her wrists quickly chafing red against the metal. In her struggle, her unhealed wounds flared with intense pain. It took her a while to recover, then she bit her pale lip and wept silently. Dusk fell. The man who said he’d be right back was nowhere to be heard. Her phone lay on the sofa. Anya Vance tried using a bobby pin to pick the lock, tried dragging the bedpost to move, even tried prying open the headboard, but all failed. Worse, she started feeling dizzy. The pain from her wounds tormented her incessantly, and hunger became her constant companion. She curled up on the bed in agony. Day broke, then evening again. A whole day and night passed, and Liam Carter did not return. 3. In her semiconscious state, Anya Vance seemed to dream of the day Liam Carter proposed to her. Back then, Liam Carter’s eyes were full of tenderness. He looked at her earnestly, saying softly, “The most important rule for a negotiator is to always stay calm, but every day since I met you, I’ve been breaking that rule.” He slid the ring onto her finger, his touch so gentle, his kiss so precious. How could any of it have been fake? A spasm gripped her stomach. She drifted, caught between pain and consciousness, almost believing she was going to die right there… “BANG!” The door was violently flung open, followed by Liam Carter’s panicked voice. “Anya!” The handcuffs rattled several times in his haste before they finally sprang open. He scooped her into his arms and rushed out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Liam Carter’s voice seemed choked with tears. He carried Anya Vance into the car, panicking: “I didn’t mean to forget… Anya, please wake up…” … Anya Vance opened her eyes again, to the stark white lights of a hospital room. Three hospital visits in just a few months, all because of the man she had once deeply loved. He claimed to love her, yet constantly hurt her. Her head was splitting. Her fingers, resting nearby, twitched slightly, and then someone’s hand gripped hers. “Anya?” Liam Carter’s voice was hoarse, filled with worry. “Is there anything else bothering you?” The moment Anya Vance heard Liam Carter’s voice, she sharply pulled her hand away. The abrupt movement tugged at her wounds, and she gasped in pain. “Don’t move!” Liam Carter immediately reached forward and gripped her shoulders. Anya Vance saw his bloodshot eyes. Without thinking, she mustered all her strength and slapped Liam Carter across the face. She was still weak, so the blow was soft. But Liam Carter’s head still snapped to the side. “Good hit.” He turned back, a strange smile on his face, one side of it already red. “I deserved it.” “Hit me a few more times, if it’ll make you feel better…” Anya Vance’s voice was hoarse. “I don’t want to see you again.” Liam Carter’s smile froze. He frantically grabbed her hand, speaking gently: “Sweetheart, don’t say such things… It’s all my fault. An emergency mission came up suddenly, and I was negotiating for a whole day and night… Please forgive me?” Anya Vance closed her eyes. She wanted to say, she knew. Seraphina Thorne had called him. Just one phone call from that woman, and he’d left her, handcuffed to the bed, for a day and a night. How could she forgive him? Anya Vance raised her wrist. The marks from the handcuffs had turned a frightening purplish-blue. Her eyes welled up. “Liam Carter, you never used to treat me like this.” Liam Carter’s face changed. “…Because you’ve been angry with me about Seraphina these past few days. I was scared and angry then.” Anya Vance said softly, “Then why do you keep doing things that make me angry?” This time, he was silent for a long while. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with pain. “Anya, please don’t act on impulse, okay? We’re just colleagues, we have an important mission to execute together…” “Please leave. I want to rest.” “Okay, I’ll stay here with you.” Anya Vance was discharged the next day. Liam Carter remained by her side, never leaving her for a moment. For the following week, he was almost constantly present, personally changing her bandages and feeding her, enduring her coldness without complaint. But Anya Vance still noticed that he constantly snuck out to the balcony to make phone calls, a gentle smile always playing on his lips. She knew who was on the other end, and that made her heart ache even more. But on the third day after her return home from the hospital, Seraphina Thorne moved in, becoming their next-door neighbor. From then on, the meals Liam Carter personally cooked were divided into two portions. The other portion was taken next door, and each time, he would stay there to eat with Seraphina before returning. When he came back to Anya Vance, he always had the same explanation: “It’s an arrangement from the department. We just discussed the mission details.” Anya Vance looked at the happy smile that hadn’t quite faded from his lips, her heart twisting in agony. Liam Carter had always subtly avoided Anya Vance and Seraphina Thorne meeting, but one day, after dressing up, he suddenly announced: “Today is our wedding anniversary. I got tickets for a cruise and prepared a candlelight dinner for us tonight.” Anya Vance wanted to refuse, but he had already pulled her out the door. At the entrance, she saw Seraphina Thorne waiting. “Hi, Anya! You don’t mind me being a third wheel, do you?” She stuck out her tongue, looking lively and playful. Liam Carter smiled, then turned to explain: “Sera also wanted to experience a cruise, and since there was an extra ticket, we decided to all go together. Anya, you… you don’t mind, do you?” Anya Vance let out a mocking laugh. She lowered her eyes. “Of course not.” What right did she have to mind? Their marriage was nothing but a sham, a cruel illusion. 4. The day they boarded the cruise, the weather was clear. Liam Carter and Seraphina Thorne walked side by side, deep in conversation, making Anya Vance feel like an outsider. The cruise ship was decorated lavishly, as if for a grand celebration. In the evening, Liam Carter did indeed prepare a candlelight dinner. Anya Vance sat opposite him, taking a deep breath. “Perfect. Let’s use this opportunity to have a proper talk.” Liam Carter smiled. “Alright. Try this red wine steak; I specifically prepared it for you.” A hint of nostalgia touched his face. “I remember our first date, we had steak. But you didn’t like it medium-rare and made the waiter cook it well-done. I still remember the waiter’s face, haha.” Anya Vance mechanically cut her steak, put a piece in her mouth, her smile strained. She said softly, “Yes, I remember that day. You told me… you’d always protect me, keep me from any harm.” Liam Carter didn’t catch the bitterness in her tone. She quickly composed herself. “I have something to…” But halfway through her sentence, she suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. She saw Liam Carter across from her quickly stand up, catching her, his voice gentle: “Anya, you’re drunk.” Anya Vance’s heart plummeted. The small amount of red wine in the steak wouldn’t be enough to make her drunk. Had Liam Carter put something in it?! But before she could think clearly, she plunged into darkness. Anya Vance struggled to wake up from a daze, her head heavy and confused. As her memory returned, she was filled with an overwhelming rage. Liam Carter dared to drug her! This was a cabin on the cruise ship. Anya Vance took a moment to recover, then stumbled out. As soon as she reached the deck, she heard shouts of celebration. Not far away, under bright lights and candlelight, guests formed a circle. She recognized many familiar faces from the department, all gathered around two people in the center. Behind them, a giant illuminated sign read: “Happy Birthday, Sera.” Anya Vance felt her hands and feet grow cold. The crowd cheered. Liam Carter presented Seraphina with a gift, then they sang “Happy Birthday,” clinking glasses, everyone celebrating joyfully. She clearly read Liam Carter’s lips: “Make a wish, I’ll grant whatever you desire.” Anya Vance stumbled back, her legs weak, icy dread washing over her. So that was it… Liam Carter had booked the entire cruise, not for their anniversary, but to celebrate Seraphina’s birthday! He had even drugged her just to keep her out of the way! Anya Vance listened to the commotion outside until it slowly died down in the late hours of the night. Not long after, there was a knock on the door. She recognized the light footsteps that weren’t Liam Carter’s, so she looked up and saw Seraphina Thorne enter, carrying a slice of cake. “I know you’re awake, I saw you come out.” Seraphina Thorne gave a superior smile, placing the cake on the table. “Have some cake. You must be feeling awful right now, aren’t you?” She wanted to see anger or pain on Anya Vance’s face, but the woman sitting on the bed kept her back straight, her gaze calm and cold. “Take your cake and leave.” Seraphina Thorne’s expression changed. Her face hardened, and she said coldly: “Your husband is throwing such a huge birthday party for me. Don’t you understand what that means?” “What if I do?” Anya Vance made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t bother me. Whatever you two do has nothing to do with me. And you don’t need to come here to stake your claim. Liam Carter and I are already over.” She saw Seraphina Thorne out, whose face was not looking good, then Anya Vance lay back down to sleep. She expected not to sleep, but perhaps the drug was still active, for she quickly fell into a dream. In it, she remembered her first birthday after they got married. Liam Carter had blindfolded her and taken her to an island. He said: “This island is my gift to you. We’ll love each other forever, until the end of time.” Anya Vance shed tears in her dream. Vows were so easy, but truly loving each other, always, was so hard. The next morning, Liam Carter had already prepared breakfast. Roses adorned the table. He saw Anya Vance awake, a perfectly calibrated, helpless smile on his face. “Anya, just a red wine steak made you so drunk, it really scared me then.” Anya Vance said nothing, unable to even force a fake smile. Upon their return, she went to the department and obtained a certificate of single status. Then she went home and packed her bags. The things she could take were pitifully few. Almost every item carried shared memories, and she wanted none of them. While tidying a drawer, she found an old cell phone deep inside, one she’d replaced long ago. The phone actually powered on. She checked it, curious, and then discovered a text message sent from the phone itself. She still remembered the number; it belonged to her brother, whom she hadn’t contacted in years. [Don’t bother me and Liam anymore. Seeing you makes me sick.] Her heart plunged into an icy abyss. She hadn’t sent that. 5. Anya Vance’s father had died when she was very young. She, her mother, and her brother had relied on each other. But ever since her mother passed away and she married Liam Carter, her brother’s contact with her had dwindled. Later, he cut off all communication. Her brother was a detective, and they were often separated. She had asked Liam Carter to inquire about her brother’s whereabouts at the department, but only received one message. Liam Carter said: “Brandon said… Mom’s gone, so the family naturally drifted apart. There’s no need for us to keep in touch.” She resented her brother’s heartlessness, wanting to confront him in person, but she was always blocked, never even seeing his face. But on this phone… she scrolled up and saw several messages her brother had sent. [Anya, please call me back, okay?] [Aren’t you even coming for Mom and Dad’s death anniversary? Just for that Liam Carter?] [I won’t oppose you two anymore. I found some information about that negotiator from back then. Can you meet me?] But each message had received a cold, even abusive, reply from “her.” Anya Vance gripped the phone tightly, her knuckles white. All these years, Liam Carter had been using her name to hurt her brother, severing her last family ties! Anya Vance gritted her teeth, abruptly stood up, grabbed her car keys, and stormed out. She had to find Liam Carter and ask him why he would do such a thing! She found out Liam Carter was at the hospital and drove straight there. But as she reached the entrance, she saw Liam Carter suddenly pick up Seraphina Thorne and spin her around. His face was bright with a joyous smile, and his voice was cheerful. “I’m going to be a dad!” The world seemed to lose its sound in that instant. Anya Vance froze, her legs turning to jelly. Liam Carter’s voice was still painfully clear. “…Boy or girl, I’ll love them both. I’ll protect you two with my life!” Seraphina Thorne cooed playfully, “It’s only three months, you’re too eager.” Three months… that was the day Anya Vance had walked in on them. Every word was like a knife plunging into Anya Vance’s heart. She closed her eyes and let out a laugh that sounded eerily hollow. The exact same vow, she had heard Liam Carter say it the day she found out she was pregnant. But what was the result? The baby was gone, and all he’d said was – *it’s for the best, to avoid threats…* How utterly laughable. She didn’t step forward, didn’t demand answers in anger. She maintained a strange calmness, then turned and left. There was no need to ask. Whatever he said would only be another lie. Back home, Anya Vance wanted to contact her brother directly, but remembering those hurtful messages, her brother might still be very angry with her… She dialed a number, asking for information about her brother. Liam Carter became busier. Anya Vance deliberately avoided him. All she wanted was to see her brother, then wait for her transfer orders and leave. But Seraphina Thorne actively knocked on her door, deliberately showing off a necklace around her neck, and smiled: “Isn’t this necklace pretty? Liam got it for me because I liked it. You’re not going to be petty, are you?” The moment Anya Vance recognized the necklace, her pupils sharply contracted, and her voice suddenly rose: “Who gave you permission to touch that necklace?!” Seraphina Thorne’s challenging expression intensified. She suddenly flashed a radiant smile and deliberately said: “What’s wrong? Is it something your dead mom left you?” Her voice grew sharper. “Speaking of your mom, she really died at the wrong time. If it weren’t for her, why would I have been reprimanded and disciplined…” “You jerk!” Anya Vance, consumed by fury, slapped her across the face. “SLAP!” A crisp sound echoed. Anya Vance, her eyes red, rushed forward, grabbed the necklace, and shouted: “Give it back! That’s mine!” This was the only keepsake her mother had left her. Why was it on Seraphina Thorne?! Seraphina Thorne’s head snapped to the side from the blow, a sinister glint flashing in her eyes. Anya Vance snatched the necklace back, cradling it carefully in her hands, her entire body trembling. That necklace had always been in her jewelry box. Only she and Liam Carter had access to the house, so how it got into Seraphina Thorne’s hands was painfully clear! “You dared to hit me?” Seraphina Thorne shrieked. While Anya Vance was off guard, Seraphina Thorne actually pushed her down the stairs. Seraphina Thorne herself lost her footing and tumbled onto the steps. “Sera!” Anya Vance watched Liam Carter rush over, his face filled with panic, immediately pulling Seraphina Thorne into his arms. Anya Vance fell backward, her forehead hitting with a sharp pain. Warm blood trickled down her cheek. She tightly clutched the necklace in her hand, trembling, and dialed the emergency number. “I need to report an incident. Someone intentionally tried to kill me…” Liam Carter looked at her in disbelief, furious. “What are you doing? Are you trying to ruin Sera?” 6. Anya Vance looked at Liam Carter with cold indifference, as if he were an unreasonable stranger. “Liam Carter, she pushed me down.” Every part of her body ached now, and her vision swam with dizzy spells, yet the sharp pain in her heart kept her lucid. Liam Carter seemed to just then notice her bloodied head, and his face instantly filled with panic.

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Three years ago, a long-standing rival of the Albright family, seeking to settle an old score, abducted their youngest adopted daughter, Elara, and dragged her deep into the mountains. Her three adoptive brothers offered a reward of hundreds of millions of dollars, sparing no expense to find her. But when she finally escaped and returned home, she found her fiancé, Damon, her second brother, marrying someone else. Julian, her eldest brother, was delivering the best man’s speech, and Rhys, her third brother, the best man, was holding the wedding rings. Turns out, the Albright family had adopted Veronica two years prior. Simply because she bore a striking resemblance to Elara, they poured all their guilt onto Veronica. They explained, “Mom had a complete breakdown and started seeing Veronica as you. We just… went along with it, because it seemed to bring her some peace.” But Elara couldn’t accept it. She forced them to choose between Veronica and herself. After a brief, tense silence, all three unanimously chose Veronica. Yet that very night, their disoriented adoptive mother set the mansion ablaze, dying in the inferno with Veronica. That fire transformed them from family into sworn enemies. They blamed Elara, accusing her of being relentlessly demanding and unable to tolerate Veronica, which they claimed led to them losing their dearest ones forever. Disgust, insults, and beatings became her daily routine. Until Elara began experiencing abnormal and persistent bleeding, which eventually led to a devastating diagnosis: advanced uterine cancer. Clutching that cold “death sentence” in her hand, she walked out of the doctor’s office only to see her supposedly dead adoptive mother accompanying Veronica to a prenatal check-up. Her eldest and third brothers surrounded Veronica protectively, and her fiancé, Damon, his face alight with joy, pressed his ear to Veronica’s belly. Elara’s blood ran cold. Just as she was about to step forward and confront them, Julian’s voice drifted over, chillingly: “After all this, Elara must have learned her lesson. Maybe we should tell her the truth now.” “No!” Rhys immediately objected: “If she knows Veronica is alive and carrying Damon’s child, there’s no telling what kind of trouble she’ll stir up. Better to keep her in line with more ‘lessons’ until the baby is born!” Mrs. Albright, far from looking disoriented, sighed with contentment. “Veronica was there for us during our most painful and desperate time. Now that she’s pregnant, I won’t allow anyone to make her leave.” Even Damon lowered his gaze, saying, “Even though Elara is… tainted, I won’t abandon her. As long as she stays in her place, I’ll give her an explanation.” Elara stood frozen, tears streaming down her face. She yearned to ask the heavens why they were so cruel to her. She was the one who was abducted and abused, yet they showered all their love and guilt upon Veronica. All she wanted was for things to return to how they were, but they had tormented her with a “fake death” lie, leaving her utterly broken. Gazing at Veronica’s visibly pregnant, happy face, Elara’s hand trembled as she instinctively touched her own abdomen. They didn’t know that before she was abducted, she too had been pregnant with Damon’s child, but then a brute violently kicked it out of me. Recalling the doctor’s grim prognosis—that she wouldn’t last another month—Elara offered a tragic smile. What could a dying person possibly fight for against the living? She would give them what they wanted. Elara didn’t step forward to confront them. She simply turned away, dragging her heavy feet, fleeing the hospital as if her life depended on it. Memories flooded her like a surging tide. Ever since that fire, she had considered death countless times. She slit her wrists, and Julian, the forensic brother, stitched her up with a sewing needle, refusing painkillers, slowly savoring her agony. She tried to jump from a building, but Damon, the business tycoon fiancé, sealed off all high-rise structures. Helpless, she jumped from the third floor, suffering full-body fractures that left her in pain for three agonizing months. After her discharge, Rhys, the legal elite third brother, forged her psychiatric records and locked her in a mental asylum, subjecting her to daily electroshock therapy. They wouldn’t allow her to die; they wanted her to live and atone. But they were all living perfectly fine. Atonement for what sin? She stumbled through the front door, her abdomen seized by another bout of agonizing cramps. The diseased uterus caused relentless bleeding, soaking through her light-colored pants and trickling down her leg. Just then, a familiar, icy voice came from behind her. “Disgusting. Can’t you even keep yourself clean?” Julian’s face was stern as he quickly averted his gaze. Rhys pinched his nose, brows furrowed. “That’s utterly revolting. Clean it up, now!” As Elara knelt on the floor, frantically wiping away the mess, Damon carefully helped a woman in, then casually tossed a piece of paper at Elara. “These are instructions for prenatal care. You’ll follow them from now on.” She stared at the densely written paper, her voice hoarse. “What does this mean?” Damon’s brow furrowed. “We found Veronica’s twin sister, Vanessa. She’s pregnant and needs looking after.” He paused, looking down at Elara with disdain. “If you take good care of her, and she delivers the baby safely, we’ll forgive your past mistakes.” Elara’s gaze fell upon the face identical to Veronica’s, her heart as clear as glass. They were still trying to deceive her. Twin sister, indeed! It was merely Damon’s desperate excuse to bring Veronica back home… “Fine, I’ll take care of her.” Elara lowered her head, her voice eerily calm. She wouldn’t live to see the child born. Soon, the suffering would end. Before she could react, Veronica suddenly lunged, snatching Mochi from her arms. “Meow—” A desperate cry, and Mochi’s head was twisted 180 degrees in Veronica’s hand, blood spilling from its mouth. “Mochi!” Elara screamed in despair, struggling to grab her cat back.

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I was caught up in a minor incident late at night, and ended up at the precinct. That’s when the officer pulled up my records. The officer looked at me, masked, and frowned. “An Ivy League graduate? What are you doing out on the streets at midnight?” It was only then that I saw it—the ID number on the file was mine, but the photo was Ava’s. Turns out, twenty years ago, I got into an Ivy League university! I stumbled home, my mind reeling, only to hear my husband, Julian Ashworth, on the phone: “Ava, I won’t let Lulu bother you. Go abroad, don’t worry about a thing.” It was him! Julian Ashworth helped Ava steal my life! My stomach churned. I turned, ready to expose him and Ava, but Julian grabbed a belt and choked the life out of me. “I’m sorry, Lulu. You can’t stand in the way of Ava’s future…” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the classroom. Our homeroom teacher was handing out university application forms. This time, I’m taking my life back! “Lulu, decided on a university yet?” My deskmate’s voice snapped me back to reality. One second ago, I was still drowning in the agony of suffocation. I looked at my unfamiliar, youthful deskmate and realized I’d been reborn. “Lulu, what’s wrong?” A thrill of joy surged through me. I shook my head vigorously. The homeroom teacher spoke up: “Fill out these forms first so I can get a sense of your choices.” I stared at him—Mr. Ashworth, Julian’s father. Our exam results had been out for ages. There was no need to fill out forms on paper; we could do it online from home. But Mr. Ashworth made an excuse to get all the students to come in anyway. It was clear he was just hand-picking students to be manipulated for Ava’s benefit. I clenched my fists, remembering my previous life. Julian had started pursuing me right around this time. I stared at the application form, filling it out randomly. Maybe it was my imagination, but I distinctly felt Mr. Ashworth glance at me. Sure enough, after I handed in the form, he said, “Lulu, come to my office.” With that, he walked away with my form. Chloe tugged my arm. “You did so well this time, you’ll definitely get into an Ivy League school!” I scored the highest in our class – 702 points – but I still didn’t get in. I went to Mr. Ashworth multiple times. He told me I was aiming too high, that I’d filled in choices beyond my reach. But hadn’t he suggested that law program himself? I glanced at Julian, who was sleeping in the corner, and nodded at Chloe. Yeah, this time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I pushed open the office door. Mr. Ashworth looked at me. “Lulu, you did exceptionally well this time. Why choose these schools?” I had filled in choices for community colleges, several of them. “High employment rates,” I stated, enunciating each word. Mr. Ashworth visibly fell silent, then said earnestly, “You really shouldn’t fill in things randomly. A legal career is a very suitable choice for a young woman.” As he spoke, he opened his computer and pulled up the university application page. I stared at the screen, my gaze full of sarcasm. So, now that I wasn’t cooperating, he was going to force me to fill it out, only for it to be replaced by Ava’s choices later? “No thanks, Mr. Ashworth. I just want to drive a tractor.” With that, I turned to leave and bumped right into Julian, who was walking in. “Lulu, if you have any questions about your application, you can ask me. I’ve always wanted to study law.” Hearing that, a particular sensitivity flared in my heart. So that’s how it was. Both of them were hinting that I should choose a law program. But this time, I wouldn’t let them get their way. I nodded. “Thanks, but no need. I have a major I want to pursue.” Julian lowered his gaze, a smile playing on his lips. “Alright.” I bolted out of the office, seeing Julian instinctively close the door behind him, then turn back and stand outside, eavesdropping. “Dad, Lulu isn’t cooperating. Can’t we pick someone else?” A cold dread washed over me. Julian was trying to ruin another student’s life! Mr. Ashworth’s voice was cold. “Lulu has the best grades; it’s the safest bet. You know we owe Ava this.” I turned and left, a bitter laugh in my heart. They owe Ava, so they’re going to repay her with my life?

In my previous life, after Julian and I started dating, I worked day and night, preparing to re-sit the entrance exams. Julian said he’d register me, but in the end, I wasn’t registered. He insisted it was because retaking the exams wasn’t allowed anymore, that the regulations were strict. I believed him. Later, I wanted to take an adult education exam. He said it was useless even if I passed, but I was determined to take it. However, my alarm didn’t ring that day, and I was late. I confronted Julian, asking if he’d turned it off. He looked innocent, claiming he was worried about disturbing my sleep. I was trembling with anger, but Julian held me, saying, “Lulu, let’s get married. No matter if you pass or not, I’ll always love you.” I cried in his arms for a long time. My dreams were filled with exam questions; how could I give up? Later, Julian claimed he was in massive debt from a work project and couldn’t pay it back. Blinded by love, I worked tirelessly from dawn to dusk, juggling three or four jobs a day. Looking back now, Julian was only with me to control me. He was worried I’d impact Ava’s future. So he constantly stopped me from moving forward. Back in the classroom, I packed my things and left school. When I got home, Chloe sent me a message saying Julian had been looking for me. I replied casually. Looks like he still hadn’t given up. My parents were often working out of town. After hearing my scores, they just wired me some money and ordered a cake, saying they’d be back next month. I understood them. They worked on construction sites; one less day of work meant one less day of pay. I wasn’t in a hurry to fill out my university application; I still had two days. But someone else was in a hurry. That evening, I went for a walk and ran into Julian. Julian smiled at me. “Lulu, what a coincidence.” “I thought you lived on the west side of town.” Julian looked natural. “I had some errands here. Where are you going? I’ll walk with you.” I said coldly, “No need. Stay away from me.” Julian paused, then looked hurt. “You… you hate me that much?” I stared him down. “Yes, I hate you. Just stay away from me.” Julian’s breath hitched. Maybe he couldn’t understand why I hated him so much when he was so popular, the school heartthrob. If it weren’t illegal, I would literally stab him. I wanted him dead and gone. “Lulu, if you hate me, you at least owe me a reason.” Julian’s voice was low, his eyes fixed on me. Julian certainly had good looks; otherwise, how could I have been so infatuated in my past life? Suddenly, a voice from nearby called out, “Julian, what are you doing here?” Ava jogged over and hugged Julian’s arm. I distinctly felt him stiffen. This was the first time I’d seen Ava up close—the person who stole my future in my previous life. “Who are you?” Ava eyed me suspiciously. I smiled. “Lulu. Julian’s classmate.” Ava’s face subtly changed. “Didn’t you say you were going to buy me snacks?” So it really was a coincidence. Julian replied naturally, “I forgot. You go home first; I have something to deal with here.” Ava’s voice rose slightly. “Julian, what do you mean?” Julian pushed Ava away. I don’t know what he said to her, but he came back alone. “Lulu, she’s my mom’s friend’s daughter.” I countered, “Why are you telling me this?” Julian’s tone was serious. “I like you, and I don’t want you to misunderstand.” Hearing that, a wave of nausea washed over me. Here we go again. “I don’t like you. You make me sick just looking at you,” I said coldly. Julian’s face visibly paled. He clenched his fist. “What did I do wrong?” I stared at him. “You’re too ugly.” And too despicable. Julian’s lips parted slightly. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him and kept walking. “Lulu! I won’t give up!” Julian shouted after me. I sneered inwardly. There are only two days left. What can you possibly do to me? I’ll submit my application at the very last second. They won’t have any chance to swap it.

The next day, when I got home from school, I found many roses arranged by my front door. Julian stood in the hallway, tall and elegant. He stared intently at me. “Lulu, yesterday’s confession was too rushed. I want to be serious about it now.” I said coldly, “No matter how serious you are, I’ll never like you.” “Then who do you like? Is there anyone better looking than me?” Julian’s voice was urgent. I pulled out my keys, ready to go inside, but Julian blocked my way. “Lulu, I truly like you. I want to go to law school with you.” I looked at him strangely. When did I ever say I wanted to study law? I smiled. “Sorry, but your grades aren’t good enough. Give it up, you loser.” Julian’s tone leveled out. “Lulu, can you not be so harsh?” I stared at him, saying nothing. “Since you’ve decided to study law, you should quickly submit your application.” A mischievous thought suddenly sparked in my mind. “I won’t. I want to drive a tractor.” I clearly saw a muscle in Julian’s jaw visibly twitch. I opened my front door, walked in, and firmly shut it, almost hitting Julian’s nose. The next day, I received many messages. The news of the school heartthrob confessing his feelings for me was known by all the students. The news, of course, came from Julian. No doubt about it. Mr. Ashworth called me many times, but I didn’t answer any of them. After a few seconds, he called again. He spoke almost immediately. “Lulu, you’re a good kid. I have no objections to you and Julian dating.” He hadn’t objected in my previous life either. Back then, I was even happy that Mr. Ashworth didn’t look down on me for not getting into university. “My son has always wanted to study law and become an excellent lawyer. I hope you can work hard with him.” I smirked, a glint in my eyes. “Alright.” Mr. Ashworth paused, then his voice brightened with a laugh. “It’s wonderful that you agree!” I hung up, barely suppressing my laughter. Just now, I’d changed my mind. It would be incredibly satisfying to mess with them. I wanted to make sure Ava could never get into university. After all, if not me, I worried there would be another victim. Julian, hearing that I’d agreed to be with him, quickly came to find me. He immediately asked, “Have you submitted your application?” “Not yet. Tomorrow.” Julian visibly relaxed. “Want to hang out with me? My friends are having a get-together.” I nodded. “Sure.” Julian looked at me, still feeling uneasy, not understanding why I’d changed so much. But what did it matter? He was the one running out of time. Ava was there too. When she saw me, she dramatically rolled her eyes. I said bluntly, “Ava, is your eye twitching?” “What?” Ava looked startled. I continued, “Why are you rolling your eyes at me? Do it again, and I’ll poke them out.” Ava shot up, but Julian firmly pushed her back down. “Ava, behave yourself.” Ava’s eyes turned red with anger. “Julian, how can you talk to me like that?!” I raised my hand and smacked her across the face. Everyone present froze. Ava clutched her face, and Julian’s expression clearly changed. “Lulu! How dare you hit me!” Ava lunged at me like a madwoman, but Julian held her back firmly. “Ava, calm down. Just endure it.” Julian’s words slowly brought Ava back to her senses.

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Mom gave us two choices. Go with her to the Donovan household, where we could attend the best high school with Mr. Donovan’s son, Caleb, but only get into a domestic university. Or stay in our hometown for school, and get to study abroad after high school graduation. My sister, Chloe, spoke first. “Mom, I want to go to the Donovan household with you.” Mom smiled, relieved, then turned to me. “Your sister should get the first pick. If I send her abroad later, then I’ll have fulfilled my duty as a mother.” Seeing Chloe’s expectant face as she clung to Mom’s arm, I knew. She had also been reborn. Too bad, Caleb would never, ever fall for her. “Anya, there’s a lot going on at the Donovans’, so Chloe and I are leaving today. Take good care of yourself at home, okay?” Mom finished packing and left with Chloe. It wasn’t like the last life at all, when she’d stayed an extra ten days just to convince Chloe to go with her to the Donovan household. In my last life, after Mom laid out the two choices, Chloe had also been quick to pick, but she chose to study abroad. After Mom and Dad divorced, I was put into my father’s custody. For ten whole years, Mom never once came to see me, yet I thought about her every single day. It wasn’t until Dad passed away and the authorities brought me to Mom’s place that I finally had her back. When Chloe chose to study abroad, my heart soared. I could finally live with Mom, day in and day out. But Mom wanted to take Chloe even more. She stayed at our house for ten days, constantly trying to persuade Chloe to go with her. Chloe, however, was convinced the grass was greener on the other side, and she never changed her mind, not even when the Donovans pressed Mom to return. And so, Mom and I went to the Donovan household, and that’s where I met Caleb. He was handsome, coolly distinguished, and brilliant in school. He was the dream guy in every girl’s heart. I couldn’t help but fall for him too. I knew we were worlds apart, and I could only bury that love deep in my heart. It wasn’t until after high school graduation, after a party, that Caleb, drunk, pinned me against a wall. “Anya, will you study abroad with me?” I forced myself to look away. “I don’t have the money.” Caleb laughed, and the whole basement seemed to light up. “I’ll pay for you.” In that moment, I finally knew. The boy I’d secretly loved for three years felt the same way about me. A tidal wave of happiness crashed over me. I excitedly told Mom that Caleb wanted to take me to study abroad. What I got in return was a stinging slap across my face. “You’re not going. When you chose to come with me to the Donovan household, you gave up the path of studying abroad. All the money I’ve saved is for Chloe’s overseas studies.” I covered my face and tried to explain. “Caleb said I wouldn’t have to pay; he’d cover my tuition.” Mom scoffed, looking at me with disgust. “How shameless. Trying to sleep your way into his bed for money. You really need to know your place. What is your status, and what is his? “Someone like Caleb would only toy with you; once he’s bored, I’d still be the one paying. “Don’t even think about studying abroad. If you dare disobey me, never call me Mom again. “And you’d better stay far away from Caleb, don’t mess up my job.” Perhaps it was the lifelong lack of maternal love, but losing Mom was my biggest fear. Lost and heartbroken, I rejected Caleb. But Caleb seriously told me. “Distance isn’t an issue; I have money for plane tickets.” After college, we started a long-distance relationship. He would fly back to see me every month, and the sweetness of our love filled me with hope for the future. When Mom found out we were actually dating, she secretly asked Caleb to look after Chloe, who was also studying in the same country. Caleb, unaware of our family situation, foolishly took care of Chloe as if he were her brother-in-law. Then, one day in my senior year, I received a message from Chloe, along with a photo. Chloe was bare-chested, hugging Caleb’s neck, lying on a hotel bed. [Sis, Caleb and I are together now. Stop bothering him.] Caleb and I had been in love for three years. I knew deep down he couldn’t betray me. My first thought was that Caleb had been set up. I angrily called Chloe. But I didn’t notice the oncoming truck. After my soul left my body, I overheard Mom and Chloe’s conversation. “It’s good your sister died. You need to quickly win Caleb’s heart. Soon, you’ll be the mistress of the Donovan household.” Chloe’s smile was triumphant. “Mom, you were so far-sighted, making Caleb look after me abroad. That’s how I got the chance to take that picture when he was drunk. “I originally just wanted Anya to give up, but who knew she’d actually die? It’s truly divine justice. “Once Caleb gets over his grief, I’ll go and offer myself to him.” I had always thought that even if Mom played favorites, she would still treat me like her daughter. I never imagined she wouldn’t even feel a touch of sadness at my death. Heartbroken, I floated to find Caleb. Only to discover Caleb had committed suicide in the bathtub, clutching my photograph. It was then I realized. Caleb’s love for me surpassed his own life. I went mad, using all my strength to trip Chloe as she walked downstairs. Watching Chloe fall to her death at the bottom of the stairs, her neck snapped. Only then did my soul dissipate. I never thought I would return to the day I chose my destiny. Except this time, Chloe chose to go to the Donovan household. She thought that as long as she went to the Donovans’, Caleb would fall for her. Too bad, she was wrong. Caleb would never fall for her. And I would make them pay for everything they did in the last life.

As soon as Mom and Chloe left, Aunt Brenda used the excuse of renovating her room to insist I move into the school dorms early. In the previous life, Mom worked as a housekeeper for the Donovans, so we stayed at Uncle Paul and Aunt Brenda’s house. She used to give Aunt Brenda a monthly allowance. Last life, after Mom and I went to the Donovan household, Mom even increased the allowance, asking them to take good care of Chloe. Chloe had a good life at Uncle Paul’s house. Now, it seemed Mom had stopped the allowance for Aunt Brenda. I didn’t argue. I packed my things and left. Before starting school, I had another place to go. After leaving Aunt Brenda’s house, I went to the bank. Every year on my birthday, Dad would deposit a small sum of money for me. Only I knew about that money. I withdrew the money and took a bus. Arriving at a secluded cemetery. The wind and rain were heavy that day. I huddled in my raincoat behind a tree, waiting. As dusk approached, sixteen-year-old Caleb rushed in through the rain. Several bodyguards followed close behind him. Caleb was drenched, his narrow eyes showing a cold intensity, but his steps were firm. He walked to a grave and frantically dug through the surrounding grass with his bare hands. “Young Mr. Donovan, it’s raining so hard. It must have been washed away. Let’s come back when the rain stops.” Caleb seemed not to hear them. Just as he was exhausted and despairing, I stepped out from behind the tree. “Excuse me, are you looking for this?” I pulled a necklace from my pocket. Caleb’s eyes lit up, and he quickly strode over. Seeing him soaked to the bone, I held my umbrella higher, shielding him from the rain. Caleb tremblingly picked up the necklace, his brows relaxing. “How did you get this?” In my last life, after Caleb and I got together, he once told me his biggest regret. It was losing the necklace he and his mother had made together, that summer when he was sixteen. So, I came to the cemetery. To help him find what he lost, and to meet him. I shrugged, smiling. “The rainwater just washed it down, so I picked it up. Then I saw you searching for so long, and I thought it might be yours.” “Thank you, this necklace means a lot to me. What reward do you want?” Caleb said thanks, but still looked like he was keeping everyone at arm’s length. I shivered and stammered. “Then… will you treat me to some instant noodles? I’m cold and hungry.” Caleb froze for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Okay!” Half an hour later, at my insistence, Caleb and I shared his first-ever cup of instant noodles. “I never knew instant noodles could taste so good.” When we were together before, instant noodles were his favorite. After we finished eating, Caleb asked for my contact information, saying he wanted to thank me properly. I smiled and refused. “If it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again.” The moment I turned away, I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling up. I wanted so badly to rush over and hug him, to tell him everything from our past life. To tell him I missed him so much it was driving me crazy. But that would definitely make him think I was insane. I didn’t leave my contact information because I knew his every move after high school. We would meet again. Caleb would think it was fate. Not a plan.

Finally, school started. High school classes were surprisingly easy. I began to plan my second meeting with Caleb. During the Fall break, I found a part-time job cleaning at an ice hockey rink. On the third morning, Caleb came to practice. I watched him secretly from the back. When he was almost done practicing, I spoke softly. “You should twist your wrist when you pass the puck.” Caleb turned sharply. I couldn’t see his eyes under his helmet, but I could feel his shock. “It’s you! You can spot my weakness?” How could I? He told me himself. I played dumb. “Just a little bit. Do we know each other?” Caleb took off his helmet, his eyes sparkling with surprised delight. I exaggeratedly widened my mouth. “It is you!” We had lunch together. “You’re underage, how are you working here?” “Shh! Don’t let my boss find out. I’m pretending to be older.” “Do you really need money that badly?” “My dad died in a car accident, and Mom took all the money and left with my sister. What else am I supposed to do?” Caleb was silent for a moment. “Later, will you help me practice hockey?” I hesitated. “I still have to sweep.” “Five thousand dollars an hour.” “Alright, Boss!” Caleb laughed again, nearly spitting out his food. After practice that afternoon, Caleb asked me out for dinner again. I was about to agree when I saw Chloe watching from outside the rink. “Let’s reschedule! I have to go now.” When he paid me, we exchanged contact information. After I got back to the hotel, Caleb sent a message. [Did you get home safe?] I couldn’t help but smile. But I only replied with a simple “Yep.”

After the break, I started preparing to sign up for the debate competition. In my last life, Caleb and I knew each other, but at school, he was in the advanced class and I was in the general studies track. At home, he lived on the top floor, and I lived in the basement. We were two people who were completely unlikely to cross paths. It was precisely because of a debate competition that Caleb noticed me. This time, I was going to shine even brighter in the debate competition. But when I had all my materials ready, I found out that my hometown high school had no intention of signing up. I was so furious, I grabbed my bedding and basically set up camp right outside the principal’s front door. The principal finally caved and agreed to help me assemble a team and sign up, but the fees would have to come out of my own pocket. Luckily, there were quite a few students at school who wanted to participate. We prepared and competed together, having a blast. Caleb would sometimes send me messages. Each time, I would stop what I was doing and read every single word several times over. Finally, with practiced patience, I’d reply with just a few words. Before the winter break of freshman year, I led our debate team into the finals. Caleb spotted me right away. “Did you find another part-time job here?” I flashed my school ID. “I’m here for the finals.” Caleb glanced at my ID, and his eyes went wide. “You’re *the* legendary debater from Maple Leaf High?” “Legendary?” Caleb’s expression softened, his gaze burning. “For a school like yours to make it to the finals, it was like you had divine intervention. “Half the audience today is here to see your captain. You should introduce me to your captain later.” Just then, a teammate ran over. “Captain, our spot is over there! Let’s go!” Caleb froze, and the way he looked at me seemed to change. I clenched my fist, smiling confidently. “See you on the stage, Caleb Donovan!” There were four teams in the finals. My team and another school were up first.

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My best friend and I got married at the same time, both joining the same powerful family. She married the rising media mogul, Noah Hayes. I married the hotshot CEO, Liam Hayes. But as sisters-in-law, our married lives were anything but happy. Her husband, who she’d once saved, was constantly rumored to be secretly bankrolling models and influencers. And my husband? He was a notorious playboy, always surrounded by women. So, Chloe and I just looked at each other. “Divorce!” “Done! Let’s do it together!” Tossing our divorce papers aside, Chloe and I felt utterly liberated. We grabbed a crew of handsome bodyguards and headed out to paint the town red. So they like playing with a constant parade of women? Well, I can play too! Everyone said the two Hayes brothers were seasoned players, keeping up appearances at home while juggling countless affairs on the side. And they were right. For instance, one day I went to see Liam, only to be stopped and humiliated by his assistant, Scarlett. She claimed I was constantly spoiled and arrogant, and that the CEO had long since forbidden me from entering the company. Right after that, Chloe went to see Noah and was blocked at the door by one of his junior models, Mia. Mia went on and on about how Chloe and Noah were totally mismatched, gloating that we should watch how Noah was going to turn her into a top star. I immediately tried to call Liam, again and again, but he never picked up. It was the same for Chloe. Those two really were brothers; they ignored our calls and read our messages without replying. I remembered all the rumors from our circle over the years. People whispered that both brothers already had someone special in their hearts, but because those women weren’t as prominent as Chloe and me, they couldn’t marry into the family. So they married us to fill the void, which was why they’d been so cold to us after the weddings. What’s worse, these rumors were often used by other women to humiliate us, and Liam and Noah knew about it. But they never denied it; instead, they tacitly allowed those women to get away with it. After being humiliated by Mia, Chloe and I coincidentally ran into each other back at the Hayes mansion. We exchanged a look, and the same thought clicked in both our minds. I stated firmly, “I want a divorce!” “Do it! If you’re divorcing, I’m divorcing too!” As a pampered princess who’d been showered with love and attention since childhood, the biggest slights I’d ever endured were after getting married. The attitudes of the people around our husbands reflected exactly how those men truly felt about us. Because they didn’t value us, the people around them felt free to be disrespectful. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know. It’s not like we can’t survive without them.” We were fuming, but we hadn’t completely lost our minds. I quietly contacted a lawyer, while Chloe researched travel destinations. For the rest of the time, we laid low, waiting for the perfect moment. That evening, Liam finally came home, carrying a bottle of my favorite perfume. He acted as if nothing was wrong, sticking to me like glue. Every now and then, he’d complain about how exhausting his day at the office had been, how difficult the new hires were… Then his hands moved to my head, gently massaging it. His voice and expression showed no sign of anything amiss. But what he didn’t know was that I knew him too well; whenever he felt guilty, his ears would turn an extra shade of red. He was testing the waters, trying to see if I was angry. If he’d just been direct and explained himself, maybe I wouldn’t have been so mad. But he had to try and cover his tracks, only making it more glaringly obvious. People really do change. Even if we truly loved each other, it changes. No exceptions. That night, listening to his breathing beside me, I couldn’t sleep a wink. In the pitch black, I stared at the silhouette of the chandelier on the ceiling, a bitter ache throbbing in my heart.

Liam and I were college classmates. We were both studying in the business school. Not only were our families equally powerful, but we’d also fallen for each other over time, always competing for the top spot in school. In the end, our relationship blossomed into marriage, forming a true power couple. Even after we graduated, our story became a legend on campus. Everyone said Liam and I were the perfect match. I used to believe that too. But after we got married, I realized I was wrong. He was always surrounded by a constant parade of women: today it was a business partner, yesterday it was his assistant, and the day before that, countless others… Though there was never any “substantive” relationship, he treated them like “confidantes,” and that was enough to make me sick. It wasn’t that I hadn’t confronted him, but every time, he’d address my concerns with a lot of talk, but never actually resolve anything. “They’re just work contacts.” “Don’t overthink it…” “You know, Riley, you’re the only one for me…” “I’m exhausted, let’s not talk about this anymore.” He always had a lot to say, but he never once truly solved the problem. If I wasn’t his only one, then I refused to be just one of many. So, the next morning, Chloe and I started preparing for our planned trip. While we were out shopping for essentials, we ran right into Mia, Noah’s junior model. She was picking out jewelry, and when she saw Chloe and me, her smile was laced with challenge. “Chloe, did you two fight after you went home last time?” “I might have been a bit aggressive with my words last time. Please don’t be angry, big sis. Men are busy building their careers out there, so we women should be more sensible. Otherwise, when we get older and our looks fade, we might just get replaced by someone younger and prettier.” “Especially since Mr. Hayes has so many young models and influencers under his wing.” Her implication was clear: Chloe was old. And there was an even deeper meaning: that “we women” part sounded like she was hinting at some “other” relationship with Noah. That was the last straw! Chloe, with her fiery temper, was ready to jump in and physically confront her the moment Mia finished speaking. But I couldn’t let her do something that would leave a paper trail. I stepped in first, giving Mia a resounding slap across the face. “What? You think being a mistress gives you a superiority complex?” “Daring to provoke the actual wife right to her face – which sugar daddy gave you that much audacity?” I watched her eyes flutter back for a split second, and the tears welling up, and I knew she was hiding something. Sure enough, right after I slapped her, I heard footsteps behind us. Chloe and I turned to see Noah. He didn’t even glance at Chloe. He walked straight to Mia’s side, saw her swollen red cheek, and then turned to look at me, his face filled with anger. “My brother must have spoiled you rotten, making you so lawless.” Chloe, worried I’d clash with him head-on, quickly stepped in front of me. “This isn’t Riley’s fault, she started it, you—” Her words were cut off mid-sentence. “You’re still defending her? Can’t I tell right from wrong myself?” “What’s gotten into both of you? No wonder my brother’s so disappointed.” What’s gotten into us? Hearing his accusing tone, even speaking for Liam’s “disappointment,” my anger flared even more. If I wasn’t so outnumbered, I would’ve gladly slapped him too. Chloe was even angrier than me, and her grip on my hand tightened. “Noah Hayes, if you have eyes and aren’t using them, why don’t you donate them?” “Before we got married, you could tell when I was upset just by looking at me. Now that you’ve got people under your wing, you see me being bullied and just dismiss it as me ‘playing around’!” Noah paused for a moment, his tone softening slightly. “Talk to me properly.” Chloe took a deep breath. She pointed at Mia’s nose. “Fine. Fire her, and I’ll talk to you properly.” “After all, it’d be more convenient for you. You can keep her at home after you fire her, stashing her away like a secret mistress, right—” The next second, a loud smack echoed, stinging my ears. Noah had heavily slapped Chloe’s hand away. “Shut up! Don’t project your filthy thoughts onto others!” Noah hadn’t held back at all, and Chloe’s hand instantly turned red and swollen. He looked at it, his eyes momentarily wide with shock. He started to open his mouth to explain, but then he seemed to think of something and swallowed his words. “If you keep acting this childish, we’ll get a divorce.” “And you, Riley, you’d better listen to my brother.” With that, he left with Mia. Chloe watched their retreating backs, and tears streamed down her face. She buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing, her tears quickly soaking my top. She choked out, “But he wasn’t like this before, was he?” “How could he change so suddenly?” Chloe and Noah had known each other even longer. They were childhood sweethearts. Chloe had even taken a knife for him once. Back in high school, the Hayes family was targeted for revenge, and the attackers went straight for Noah, who was still a student. Chloe felt something was off and insisted on walking with him. Later, on the way, she realized the danger, and quietly called the police. When the police arrived and busted the kidnappers, one of them, unnoticed for a moment, lunged at Noah with a knife. Chloe blocked it, and because of that, her hand could never hold a paintbrush steady again. From then on, Noah became extra clingy with Chloe. He got a little better as they grew up, not openly clinging, but subtly pursuing her. He’d quietly close in. He even secretly stopped boys from confessing their feelings to Chloe. Liam told me all this later. I used to think their relationship would be even more solid than Liam’s and mine. After all, they had a “beauty saves the hero” story with life-or-death stakes. But her love story, just like mine, had rotted away.

I comforted Chloe, and we continued buying our supplies. When we returned to the Hayes mansion, laden with bags, Maria, the housekeeper, curiously asked what we were doing. I brushed her off, saying we were going on a trip. My legal team had already discreetly prepared our divorce agreements. Both Chloe and I wanted a clean break. As for half of the marital assets, we couldn’t care less; we just wanted it over with quickly. Married cleanly, leaving cleanly. Not taking a single thing that made me sick to my stomach. After exchanging a glance, we each called our families, simply explaining the state of our marriages. Chloe and I got along so well, partly because our family backgrounds were similar, and partly because we were both the youngest daughters in our families, showered with immense love. My family had an older brother in addition to me. My brother, Dylan, listened to my reasons for wanting out and exploded with anger. “Liam Hayes, that rotten bastard! Next time I see him, I’ll break his legs. Good for you for divorcing! I support you wholeheartedly.” After hanging up, I signed the divorce papers and left them on the bedroom table. Then, Chloe and I got busy. I packed up all my personal belongings that I could take. Anything I couldn’t pack, I arranged for my family’s driver to pick up. By the time the Hayes housekeeper realized something was amiss, Chloe and I were already walking out the door with our suitcases. Just before boarding our flight to France, my brother called again. “I’ve got a surprise for you, sis! I guarantee you’ll be thrilled!” Hearing his mysterious tone, I was incredibly curious. Later, I found out that Dylan had arranged a team of handsome bodyguards for Chloe and me, and they were all incredibly well-built. Hmm, I was indeed very satisfied! Men like to play with a constant parade of women, right? Well, I can have hot guys travel with me…

The moment Chloe and I landed and turned on our phones, we were bombarded with countless missed calls. Some from Liam, some from his brother. But I ignored them all. I blocked both their numbers, just like they had done to us. After a night’s rest at the hotel, the bodyguard team Dylan arranged arrived. They were indeed the type to make your heart pound! There were the “wolf-dog” types, the “puppy-dog” types, the “aloof and cool” types… Their looks were no worse than the Hayes brothers, and they had something more: They were obedient. Not only were they professional bodyguards, but they could also double as local tour guides. When we went shopping, they’d even carry our bags – a small gesture Liam hadn’t done for me in years. But what truly captivated me was how sweet-talking they were. “Miss Riley, you should try the local cuisine here. If you don’t like it, I can personally cook for you. I’d be happy to prepare your meals for the duration of your trip.” “Miss Chloe, you seem a bit tired recently. I know a little about traditional remedies. If you trust me, I can help you with a regimen.” “Or if you have anything bothering you, please don’t hesitate to tell me…” They were thoughtful and comprehensive in every aspect. So much better than those two useless brothers. While eating at a famous viral restaurant, we even stumbled upon Mia’s livestream. It infuriated Chloe so much she decided right then and there to start her own livestream, create an account, and see what she was missing. After deciding on a title, Chloe found the perfect lighting and, with me by her side, started broadcasting. I have to admit, with a media mogul for a husband, Chloe was quite professional in this area. She brought out a few of the high-value bodyguards, drawing in more and more viewers to the livestream. Since it was a platform popular in our home country, most of the audience were Chinese-speaking viewers. Chloe and I chatted with them, introducing the restaurant’s signature dishes. We were having a great time. Until a few unfriendly foreign users approached us during our meal. They saw Chloe and me, walked straight over, and started to flirt offensively. When we rejected them, they didn’t care what we were doing; they just got angry and rushed towards us. One of them actually reached out and touched my face. Another even tried to slip his hand under my clothes. Their greasy faces suddenly made Liam look handsome. My mood, which had been perfectly fine, was ruined by these jerks. I immediately had Chloe point the livestream camera at them. Then I smiled at them, and replied in English: “I will report this to the embassy. If I don’t receive a proper apology, I will pursue this matter to the fullest extent.” Their faces changed instantly. They tried to threaten us. But they hadn’t even finished the thought before our bodyguards stepped in. The men seemed flustered; they hadn’t expected us to have so many people. And that’s when they finally noticed we were livestreaming. They clearly didn’t want to get into trouble with our country’s embassy, knowing how fiercely protective they are of their citizens. So, they apologized to us. The one who had touched me was even punched by his friends as a lesson. Only then was the matter settled. Back in the livestream, the comments section was even more active. “OMG, these ladies are absolutely owning it abroad!” “Totally! They messed with the wrong women!”

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