On Lily’s fifth birthday, Brandon sent her the LEGO castle she’d been dreaming of. The very next day, Lily cried and asked me, “Mommy, where did the princess from my castle go?” I turned to Brandon Miller. He casually snuffed out his cigarette, his tone flat. “She probably lost it herself. I’ll just buy her another one.” But an hour later, I scrolled through Chloe Smith’s Instagram–the company’s top sales performer. She’d clipped that limited-edition princess figurine to her car keys, with a caption: 【My Mr. B.M. says I’m his runaway princess, and even the castle’s owner has to make way for me.】 B.M. was the abbreviation of my husband’s name. I didn’t make a scene. I simply commented under her post: “So beautiful. Too bad it’s a limited edition, you can’t buy it anymore.” Lily cried herself to sleep, and I carried her back to her room. In her tiny hand, she still clutched the castle flag, barren of its princess. After tucking her in, I walked into my study. Chloe Smith’s Instagram ID was【Chloe, The Knight’s Princess】. I scrolled back through her profile, inch by agonizing inch. The car key in that picture was a Bentley. I switched to the company’s internal system. Two months ago, a procurement order for over three million dollars had been approved by none other than Brandon. The listed purpose was “High-End Client Hospitality Vehicle.” I pulled up the car’s usage records. The backend data showed it had never hosted a single client. Every trip pointed to Brandon’s private apartment, and the street below Chloe Smith’s building. I took a deep breath and continued to browse Chloe Smith’s profile. 【My new bag. Mr. B.M. says it perfectly suits my style.】 The photo showed the latest Hermès model, with the floor-to-ceiling windows of our marital home in the background. That day, Brandon had told me he was meeting an important investor. 【Staying up all night for his meeting, I’m exhausted. Good thing he made me some nourishing, special broth himself.】 The picture was a selfie of her wearing a face mask. The sofa in the background was an Italian import brand I had personally chosen. That day, Lily had a high fever. I called him, and he said he was out of town on a business trip and couldn’t come back. So, his “important investor,” his “business trip out of town,” it was all just her. I stared at the screen, my heart growing colder by the second. The study door creaked open. Brandon walked in, smelling of a shower and carrying an air of fatigue. He glanced at Lily, sleeping soundly in her bed, and his brows furrowed slightly. “That child is really spoiled rotten by you. It’s just a plastic figurine, isn’t it? Does she really need to cry like this?” I looked up, silently meeting his gaze. This was the man who, in a leaky rented apartment, had once vowed to build our daughter a real castle. Brandon walked over, instinctively reaching to put his arm around my shoulder, but I subtly shifted my body, avoiding his touch. I said flatly, “Yes, just a piece of cheap plastic. Worthless.” “Might as well throw it away.” Brandon visibly relaxed. “That’s the best way to think about it. Go to bed early, we have a meeting tomorrow.” He turned and walked into the bedroom, without another glance at Lily. I watched his retreating back, then slowly pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside were the latest group equity documents, detailing the capital I held as the largest individual shareholder. Brandon, since you want to lose this family so badly. Then I’ll make sure you lose the very ground you stand on in this city.

The next day, I arrived at the company promptly. Passing the CEO’s office, I saw Brandon leisurely sipping coffee through the frosted glass. I didn’t stop, heading straight for the finance department. “Good morning, Ms. Miller.” The Finance Director immediately stood up when she saw me. “Pull up all original contracts from the sales department for the past three months, along with their corresponding transaction records.” My voice was ice-cold. “All of them?” Ms. Davis seemed surprised but complied immediately. Half an hour later, mountains of documents were delivered to my office. I asked my assistant, Sarah, to brew the strongest black coffee, closed the door, and began to scrutinize each one. Chloe Smith, as the “sales champion” for two consecutive quarters, her performance data was suspiciously perfect. I pulled out all her contracts. Soon, I found the problem. Three of her largest clients accounted for seventy percent of her total performance. And all three companies were registered in the Cayman Islands. The contract terms were absurdly lenient, with almost no binding power. The upfront payment ratio was as low as 5%, but the collection period stretched to a year. Even the breach-of-contract clauses were vague and ambiguous. This wasn’t doing business; this was a classic case of illicit fund transfers. Brandon was using company money to plug the hole left by Chloe Smith’s brother’s failed overseas investments. Then, through fake trade, he laundered this money, turning it into Chloe Smith’s seemingly legitimate sales commissions. What a sophisticated scheme. I picked up the internal phone: “Send out a notice. The entire sales department is to conduct a quarterly compliance self-audit.” Hanging up, I took Sarah and walked directly to the sales department. Chloe Smith was sitting at her most prominent workstation, touching up her lipstick in a small mirror. The Bentley car key, with the limited-edition princess LEGO dangling from it, was carelessly tossed on her desk, as if she was afraid no one would see it. Several young sales assistants were gathered around her, calling her “Chloe.” “Chloe, your keychain is so unique, limited edition, right?” “Of course, that’s called taste, not everyone understands it.” She looked smug, basking in being the center of attention. When I walked in, everyone immediately fell silent and stood up. Only she remained firmly seated, not even changing her posture. She even deliberately raised her hand, picked up the car keys, and twirled them carelessly between her fingers. Her eyes held blatant provocation. The air instantly solidified. Everyone held their breath, feeling the silent, tense atmosphere. Chloe Smith spoke first. “Ms. Miller, here to inspect our work?” She dangled the keys. “This little thing, isn’t it cute? It’s a limited edition, you know.” “Only those who truly appreciate its value deserve to own it.” A faint curve appeared on my lips, but the smile didn’t reach my eyes. “Taste?” I spoke slowly, my voice clear and cold. “Only someone so small-minded would consider a piece of industrial plastic, costing mere dollars, a rare treasure to flaunt everywhere.” “It seems Supervisor Smith’s aspirations extend no further than that.” Her face instantly turned pale. I took two steps forward, stopping in front of her, looking down. “As for deserving it or not…” I leaned in slightly, whispering into her ear, “You picked up my discarded trash, and instead of being ashamed, you wear it like a badge of honor.” “Since you love it so much, it’s yours.” “After all, trash belongs in the trash can.” She tried to say something else, but I straightened up and walked directly to the bulletin board. Slap. I pinned the freshly printed notice right in the middle of the board. “Everyone, take a good look, and think about whether the contracts in your hands can withstand scrutiny.” Chloe stared at the notice, a flicker of panic in her eyes. Then she composed herself, a defiant confidence settling over her. I returned to my office and immediately called the Legal Director, Mr. Johnson. “Initiate a top-tier investigation procedure. Contact our partnered external audit team.” “Remember, keep it confidential.” My phone vibrated. It was a SnapChat message from Brandon: “Honey, what are you doing? Are you okay?” I stared at the words on the screen and typed a reply. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m preparing a gift for you.”

That evening, when I opened the door to our house, I was greeted by the scent of roses. Brandon, wearing an apron, carried the last dish from the kitchen, a wide smile on his face. “Honey, you’re back? Come wash up and eat, tonight it’s all your favorite dishes.” The scene felt like a lifetime ago. The last time he cooked for me was when we first moved into this house. He said he wanted me to always be the happiest princess in this home. Now, it felt like a bitter irony. Lily had already been tucked into bed by the nanny. At the dining table, candlelight flickered, and red wine offered a soft glow. Brandon constantly served me food, showering me with sweet words. “Honey, I heard about what happened today. Chloe was out of line, but don’t let her bother you. I’ve already reprimanded her.” “You’ve worked so hard for the company, you must be exhausted.” I sneered inwardly, but my face remained impassive as I quietly ate my dinner. After a few rounds of drinks, he finally cut to the chase. “Honey, about our house… should we sell it?” Here it comes. I put down my forks and looked at him. He immediately explained: “Don’t misunderstand! I just think this house is a bit far from the elementary school Lily will attend. We could get a spacious apartment in a better school district, as… compensation for you and Lily.” His reasons were high-sounding and seemingly sincere. If I hadn’t just seen those illicit transaction records, I might have been moved for a moment. Chloe’s idiotic brother had suffered a margin call in his overseas cryptocurrency investments, losing a staggering thirty million dollars. Brandon’s embezzlement of company funds was a mere drop in the bucket. He desperately needed a massive cash flow to fill this bottomless pit. And our house, bought outright before our marriage and now appreciated almost fivefold, was his last resort. I looked into his hopeful eyes, a churning, sickening feeling rising in my stomach. I watched him silently for a few seconds. Then, my eyes slowly reddened. “Brandon…” My voice carried a hint of a tremor and feigned emotion. “I thought… you no longer cared about Lily and me.” “You’re finally considering our daughter’s future.” Brandon sighed, a look of faux regret on his face. “How could you think that? You and Lily are all I want to protect.” He pulled a pre-prepared “Letter of Intent to Sell” from his briefcase. “Honey, look, I’ve already found a buyer. The price is a bit lower than market value, but the advantage is a quick sale, and we can move into our new home sooner.” I took the letter of intent. The buyer’s name was unfamiliar, but I knew the company listed below it very well. It was one of the domestic affiliates of those three overseas shell companies. He was trying to use a shady internal transfer, a left-hand-to-right-hand scheme, to quickly convert this marital asset into cash he could freely control. To cash out, he was even willing to sell for twenty percent below market price. He truly… was insane. “Nicole, sign it.” Brandon pressed the pen into my hand. “For our daughter, for our future mansion.” I let him hold my hand, leaning into his embrace, and pleaded coquettishly with a tearful voice. “Brandon, you’re so good to me… I’ll sign, of course I’ll sign.” “But…” I abruptly changed my tone. “Brandon, I heard from finance that property transaction taxes are very high right now. This direct transaction might not be very cost-effective for us.” I looked up. “Let’s sign a supplementary agreement to do some tax planning; we could save millions.” As I spoke, I pulled another document from my bag. The document was filled with complex financial jargon and regulatory clauses, enough to make any layman dizzy. But at its core, there was only one condition: The sale proceeds must be deposited into a joint escrow account I designated, and he would bear unlimited joint liability. Brandon’s mind was fixated on the thirty million dollars he was about to get; he wouldn’t bother to scrutinize these unintelligible terms. He quickly flipped through a couple of pages, and seeing my sincere expression, he didn’t suspect a thing. “My wife always thinks of everything!” He picked up the pen and, with a grand flourish, signed his name at the end of the supplementary agreement. That night, Brandon was so excited he barely slept. He stood on the balcony, speaking in hushed tones, calling Chloe over and over again on his phone. “Baby, she signed it!” “Soon, we’ll have the money! You won’t have to suffer anymore!” “Once this money hits my account, I’ll split with her amicably.” I lay in bed, quietly listening to the dirty sweet nothings drifting in from the balcony. My heart sneered.

Monday, Group Senior Management Strategy Meeting. Halfway through the agenda, it was my turn to speak as CFO. I stood up, surveying the executives in the conference room. Then, I dropped a bombshell. “I propose that the Group officially initiate preparations for an IPO.” As soon as I finished speaking, the entire room erupted. “To incentivize core team members who make outstanding contributions during the IPO preparation process, I, personally, am willing to allocate 5% of my original shares as an equity incentive pool.” This time, even the seasoned executives in the room, those old foxes who had weathered many storms, gasped sharply. These weren’t stock options; these were genuine, hard-cash original shares! Once the company successfully went public, these 5% of shares would be worth at least nine figures. I deliberately turned my gaze to Brandon, my voice gentle and sincere. “Brandon, the company wouldn’t be where it is today without your invaluable contributions. But going public is a tough battle, and we need our most competitive employees leading the charge.” “Therefore, these shares must be awarded to the individual or team with the greatest overall contribution this year.” Brandon instantly grasped my “deeper meaning.” He slammed his hand on the table, declaring, “I fully support Ms.Miller’s proposal! This demonstrates our company’s open and inclusive culture! We must attract talent without sticking to conventions!” He even added, with a veiled implication, “Supervisor Chloe Smith of the sales department, her performance this year is clear for all to see, and she is a role model for all our employees!” In the conference room, several informed senior shareholders looked at me with complex expressions. After the meeting, Brandon, almost impatiently, called Chloe into his office. On my office computer, hidden surveillance footage clearly showed everything. The moment the door closed, Chloe excitedly lunged into Brandon’s arms. The two of them passionately kissed by the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, oblivious to the world. “Baby! Did you hear that? 5% of the shares! Once we get them, we’re getting married!” “Brandon, you’re amazing! I knew you were the best!” Chloe even excitedly pulled out her phone, opened the calculator, and started tapping away, calculating how many millions 5% of the shares would be worth at different market capitalizations. Her money-obsessed appearance was both laughable and pathetic. They probably forgot. Any company initiating an IPO must undergo the most rigorous and comprehensive due diligence and financial audit. And I had brought in the nation’s top third-party audit team, with the lead auditor being my best friend from college. The Group held its equity incentive conference at the city’s seven-star hotel. Below the stage sat all company employees, important investor representatives, and journalists from over a dozen mainstream financial media outlets. Brandon, resplendent in a bespoke suit, stood on the center of the stage, looking radiant. He held the microphone, his voice filled with magnetic charm and feigned emotion. “Today, we are not only embarking on a new chapter for our Group, but also honoring a hero who has made immense contributions to our company.” “With her talent and hard work, she has created unprecedented miracles in the sales department!” “I announce that the recipient of this year’s Special Contribution Incentive Shares is – Sales Department Director, Ms. Chloe Smith!” As his words fell, a spotlight instantly shone on one side of the stage. Chloe Smith, wearing a white gown that resembled a wedding dress, slowly walked onto the stage. As she reached Brandon’s side, she even gave him a shy, loving glance. Brandon picked up a large crystal display board symbolizing the 5% shares, preparing to personally hand it to her. Below the stage, flashbulbs flickered wildly. And I, watching the ‘perfect couple’ on stage, gently pressed a button in my hand. The PPT, which had been showcasing the Group’s glorious achievements, suddenly flickered. It was replaced by a high-definition screen recording video from a phone. The video played automatically, revealing Chloe’s Instagram profile. I smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Smith, for your immense special contributions to my husband.”

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Three days after giving birth, I finally got my massive payout. During my labor, my husband, Liam, was busy having a blast with his mistress on a private island. On the third day, he finally came home to see our baby: “The little guy’s tougher than I thought. Oh, and by the way, that time you almost miscarried? It was because I touched you right after being with her, without washing up, and you caught an infection.” I stared at him in disbelief, but he just kept going: “Don’t get your panties in a twist. The baby’s healthy, isn’t he? Those other women don’t threaten your position.” Watching him walk away, I didn’t scream or cry this time. I already had fifty-two million dollars in compensation. I could finally get my divorce in peace. Liam pushed his phone towards me, a cruel, knowing smirk playing on his lips, barely contained. The screen showed a photo of my shocked face from just moments ago, when he’d told me he’d infected me. My swollen eyes and sallow face were magnified countless times across the horizontal display. I instinctively reached to snatch the phone and delete the picture. He quickly pulled it away. “It wasn’t easy to snap that shot. I told her I’d send her your face when you heard the news.” “She’s been fuming ever since you had our son, hasn’t let me touch her for three days. What else could I do? I had to use you to cheer her up.” His flippant expression felt like a knife, slowly slicing away at my dignity. He talked about his affairs with such casual indifference, like he was just discussing what to have for dinner tomorrow. The man who’d promised to love only me forever on our wedding day had finally, completely shattered his vows. A “ding-dong” chime. His special notification for her went off. Brittany saw me and gasped dramatically: “Wow, Scarlett, you look terrible! Giving birth really does make women ugly. I’m never having kids!” “I’m serious, you have to use protection with me from now on! I refuse to turn into some haggard old housewife!” His eyes crinkled in a smile. There was no trace of the anger he’d shown the first time he’d heard a girl mock me for being too plain for him. “Of course. The family heir is taken care of. You, my little side piece, just need to keep me happy outside the home.” “You’re not mad anymore, are you? Let’s review that position we tried last time. Go get clean and put on that sheer outfit for me, waiting in the bedroom!” Beep! The voice message ended. He switched off his phone, still savoring the moment. Looking at my reddened eyes, he chuckled and pinched my cheek. “Yeah, a bit saggy. Alright, it’s not the first time you’ve heard me flirting with her. What’s there to be sad about? She’s just a distraction. Once the novelty wears off, I’ll move on. You have the child, no one can shake your position. Just get over it.” With that, he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled away. He said it so casually, yet for two years, his “novelty” had never ended. My “unshakeable position” felt like an identity anyone could challenge. Ten minutes later, a debit notification from the pharmacy popped up on my phone. Purchased item: three boxes of strawberry-flavored ultra-thin condoms. Immediately after, he sent me a message. [The pharmacy fund is almost depleted. I’ve been using it a lot lately. Remember to top it up.] Looking at that almost provocative message, I no longer felt the fiery rage and impulse I’d had the first time I got a debit notification for contraceptives, rushing to crash his little rendezvous. I simply ordered five more boxes for delivery to Brittany’s address. Half an hour later, two million dollars appeared in my account as a ‘reward’. The total was now exactly fifty-two million. I calmly screenshotted the transaction history and sent it to Eleanor, Liam’s mother, who was abroad handling private matters. [The money’s enough. Please expedite the divorce papers.]

The first time I received a ‘compensation’ transfer from Liam was when I accidentally saw his flirtatious messages with his secretary. I argued with him, I screamed, and he accidentally pushed me to the ground, causing a miscarriage. That night, he transferred all his assets to me, knelt, and begged me for another chance. I didn’t take them. I just told him. “From now on, every time you betray me, you transfer two million to me. When it reaches fifty-two million, I’ll leave you for good!” He thought I was just saying it in a fit of pique, joking. What I didn’t tell him was that his mother, Eleanor, had begged me not to divorce him even before he did. Back when he married me, he’d settled tens of millions in gambling debts for my terminally ill, deadbeat father. Eleanor had said I couldn’t divorce him until the debt he’d cleared was essentially ‘paid back’ to the family. Until then, she insisted I had no right to leave. I knew she wasn’t actually trying to make me repay the money. She just wanted to use me to keep her son, who’d inherited his father’s philandering ways, tied down. When I first found out I was pregnant, I considered aborting the baby several times. But then he suddenly came back to the family, doting on me just like in our dating days, saying he wanted a home. By the fifth month, he knew the baby was too far along for an abortion, so his old habits resurfaced. After I sent the message, I received a draft of the divorce agreement electronically. I breathed a sigh of relief. The day I was discharged from the hospital and transferred to the postpartum recovery center, Liam came to pick us up. The nurse, Brenda, sat in the back with Leo and a pile of baby supplies. I took my place in the passenger seat, a spot I hadn’t occupied in a long time. The seat was adjusted far back. My hand brushed against the seat adjuster and snagged on a ripped pair of pearl-studded lace panties. “That girl is just too wild, wants to try it everywhere.” He raised an eyebrow, watching me. He expected to see the wild, uncontrollable rage he was used to in my eyes. But I just dropped my hand expressionlessly, leaving the item where it was. He paused, then chuckled. “Your poker face is getting good lately. And you’ve become much more generous. Good thing you ordered those five extra boxes last time, otherwise, with her clinginess, they wouldn’t have been enough.” “You know, if you’d been this understanding earlier, we might have had our second child by now.” I didn’t reply, just quietly closed my eyes, resting. A moment later, that familiar phone ringtone sounded, and a faint sense of dread settled in my stomach. Sure enough, he slammed on the brakes, pulling the car onto a deserted shortcut lane. “You guys wait here. Brittany has a toothache, I’m taking her to the hospital first. I’ll be back for you guys soon.” He opened the car door, threw all our things onto the roadside, and roughly pulled me out in just a few quick movements. Whoosh! The car sped off. Meeting Brenda’s confused, angry gaze, I gritted my teeth against the incision pain and pointed to the car turning the corner nearby. “Take that one. It’s Eleanor’s car.” She looked at me, surprised. I managed a weak smile. A year ago, he’d abandoned me halfway, believing his words to ‘just wait’. During the dead of winter, I stubbornly waited until I was hypothermic and passed out from the cold. When I was finally taken to the hospital, he even blamed me for being stubborn, saying my emergency call had interrupted his time comforting Brittany. After that, I avoided riding in his car whenever possible. And if I did, I was always prepared to be abandoned at any moment. I was used to these ‘unexpected’ events by now. That evening, Liam, panting, tracked us down after returning to the original spot and not finding us. “Why didn’t you tell me you hailed a cab? I went back and looked for ages.” “I messaged you. You didn’t see it.” He instantly flared up. “Then why didn’t you call? I thought something had happened to you both.” I paused, then quickly regained my composure. “Didn’t you say not to bother you when you’re with Brittany?”

During my last prenatal check-up, our baby was misdiagnosed with Down syndrome. I was so terrified I could barely stand. When I called him, Brittany switched to video mode. She was wearing a tight nurse uniform, giggling provocatively. “Scarlett, Liam says if there’s something wrong, fix it, or just abort it. Calling him won’t help.” “We’re role-playing right now, too busy for you.” “And he said stop using these excuses to check up on him. If you like hearing his voice so much, he’ll record a lullaby for you to soothe your baby bump.” She hung up shortly after. Liam sent a message. [From now on, text me if you need anything. If I don’t reply, I’m with someone else. Stop calling and interrupting us.] He paused, a flicker of satisfaction on his face. “Finally listening, huh? Good, commendable. Though that time, I genuinely didn’t know it was about our son. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let her talk like that.” He pulled two necklaces from his pocket. One was a solid gold longevity charm for good luck for our son. But the moment he touched Leo, our son burst into tears, as if he couldn’t stand being near him. Blocked, Liam then offered the other necklace, a delicate piece with small diamonds, to me. “Here. I was at an auction with Brittany yesterday and saw this necklace. Thought it might suit you.” It was true he’d bought it at an auction. But I’d seen on Brittany’s Ins feed yesterday that it was a bonus gift that came with a two-million-dollar pink diamond, practically worthless on its own, not even a few hundred bucks. As he spoke, he reached to put the necklace around my neck. I flinched and pulled away. He frowned, annoyance in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? I give you two compliments, and now you’re playing hard to get?” A wave of sarcasm washed over me. He always thought I could be won over by his occasional acts of kindness. “You misunderstand. I’m allergic to this kind of material.” His face stiffened. He seemed to have forgotten the millions he’d once spent to craft a gold diamond ring that wouldn’t irritate my skin. In the past, when I most desperately wanted him to change his mind, I’d accepted everything he gave me, even if I was allergic, even if it was uncomfortable. As long as he showed even a sliver of kindness. I would never contradict him. For that fading flicker of love, I’d humiliated myself beyond measure. In the end, it was all for nothing. After that day, he seemed to find a convenient excuse and stopped coming to see us. I was glad for the peace and quiet, focusing on my recovery, postpartum care, and playing with Leo. But on Ins, I often saw him with Brittany: one day on a Ferris wheel, the next shooting an advertisement. Mornings he’d cook for her, afternoons they’d check out trending restaurants. Sometimes, in the dead of night, there’d be posts about their exciting nightlife. Everyone at his company said she was his longest-standing mistress. They all speculated when he’d finally kick me, his loyal, long-suffering wife, out for her. Truth be told, from my fifth month of pregnancy until just before delivery, I’d brought up divorce countless times. But Liam refused. He didn’t want to give up the image of a perfect family. If he had truly agreed, I wouldn’t have minded being shown the door. The day before our divorce was finalized, it was Leo’s one-month celebration. Liam made a grand entrance with Brittany. He even arranged her seat right beside him, the seat reserved for the lady of the house. He held Leo, playfully teasing him for a while. Brittany leaned in, looking at the baby with him. “Hello,Leo. I’m your stepmom.” At her words, everyone present’s expression shifted. But Liam, before anyone could react, quickly smiled at me. “I forgot to tell you, Brittany’s prepared a gift for Leo. She’s going to be his godmother.” Brittany slipped a gold bracelet onto Leo’s wrist. She smiled sweetly at me. “I’ll help Scarlett take care of the baby from now on.” Listening to her provocative declaration, I gently pressed Eleanor’s hand, stopping her from reacting. I smiled faintly and took Leo from their arms. “A psychic recently said Leo’s aura was a bit too strong, and he needed a godparent to balance it out and ward off bad luck.” “Brittany, you truly are a saint, saving me so much trouble. I’ll accept the gift, thank you.” Both their faces instantly fell. Brittany’s eyes welled up, her voice choked. “It’s okay, Scarlett. It’s my honor to do something for Liam’s child. Warding off bad luck? I’d even die for him.” “Perhaps it’s best if I, a harbinger of bad luck, just leave now, before I spread my misfortune to everyone.” With that, she cast a tearful glance at Liam, grabbed her bag, and started to leave. Liam glared at me, displeased, and made to go after her. Eleanor grabbed his sleeve, her eyes sharp. “Today is your son’s one-month celebration. In front of all these people, you’re going to chase after a mistress? Do you want our family to be shamed forever?” He paused, about to speak, when I smiled at Eleanor. “Mom, let him go. Leo is the star of today.” She hesitated, then sighed. “Get out! If you ever bring these low-class women into our house again, don’t bother coming in yourself!” Liam’s gaze was probing, as if he expected to see the familiar clinginess and bitterness in my eyes that used to reassure him. But there was nothing. I looked away and toasted the guests with tea. The one-month celebration wasn’t exactly dignified, but thankfully, Leo was too young to be sad. And I wasn’t sad either. Tomorrow, with the divorce papers, everything would be over. Eleanor took us to the old mansion to stay with her for one last night. Leo fell asleep on the sofa, and Eleanor went to get him a handmade cotton blanket. Suddenly, the heavy door of the old mansion slammed open. 4 Liam stormed in, carrying Brittany. “Scarlett! I truly underestimated you. Where’s that bracelet? Give it back! Do you know Brittany suddenly got a fever this afternoon, and then got into a car accident on the way to the hospital?” “I initially thought it was just a coincidence, but then I met a spiritualist collecting donations who told me you tampered with the bracelet, putting a curse of bad luck on her! How could you be so malicious?” Back when I was bleeding during my pregnancy and prayed for days for our child, he’d called me superstitious and old-fashioned. I scoffed. “Those were just words to provoke you both. You actually believed them? Where did this mystic come from, and how did you ‘just happen’ to meet him? Ask him which temple I supposedly put the curse in.” He was speechless, about to retort. Brittany, still sobbing, pulled out a bracelet and approached Leo. “It’s okay, maybe I just have a weak constitution and these things coincidentally happened. This is a blessed bracelet I got from a temple. I want to exchange it for that gold one.” I stepped sideways, blocking her. “I won’t take your item. I’ll return the bracelet to you tomorrow. Leo is asleep. Please leave now.” Liam glared at me. “Why can’t you give it to me now? What else do you plan to do with it?” I frowned, about to speak, when Liam suddenly scooped up the sleeping child. “What are you doing! Don’t touch him!” Brittany grabbed Leo’s arm, forcibly trying to take off the bracelet. “Scarlett, I’m doing this for your own good. No matter how much you hate me, you can’t use our child! What if… what if you persist in this delusion, and the bad karma falls on Leo? What will you do then?” “It’s better to take it off now.” Leo cried out, startled by the rough handling, and my heart clenched. I rushed over and slapped Brittany, sending her sprawling. “What nonsense are you talking about! I told you there’s nothing going on! You are not to touch my child!” She looked at Liam, tears streaming down her face. The next second, his eyes blazed red. He shoved me violently, sending me tumbling, and carelessly tossed Leo onto the sofa. Then, with agonizing care, he helped Brittany up. “We’re doing this to lessen the bad karma for you and the child! Look at you, acting like a lunatic!” The incision from my pain-free delivery hit the corner of the coffee table, a searing pain coursing through my body. But what chilled me more was his callousness towards his own flesh and blood. Eleanor, hearing the commotion, rushed over and helped me up. She picked up Leo, whose face was red from crying. Then, she slapped Liam across the face. “You animal! Even a wild animal protects its young, but you’re worse than your own heartless father! Abusing your son for some cheap mistress!” “You’ll regret this someday! Get out! Get out of my house, don’t disturb our final family moment!” “It was her first…” Liam’s previously dark eyes suddenly froze. He paused. “What do you mean, ‘final’?” But before he could finish, Brittany suddenly collapsed to the ground, unconscious. He instantly lost his composure and hurried to pick her up. As he turned to leave, he glanced back at me. A flicker of unease crossed his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow for the bracelet. Don’t try any tricks!” Eleanor, wiping away tears, slammed the door shut. The next morning, Mr. Davies, the butler, brought back our finalized divorce certificate. I didn’t disturb Eleanor. I placed the divorce certificate under the gold bracelet, inside the large box that once held the gold engagement ring Liam gave me. I put it in a prominent spot on the coffee table. Looking at Leo in his swaddling clothes, my voice was lighter than it had ever been. “Baby, let’s start a new life with Mama.” He suddenly grinned, his eyes curving into little crescents. Amidst his innocent, unburdened laughter, We boarded a plane to a new world.

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On the eve of my wedding, I overheard my fiancé’s wicked plan through the car’s dashcam. He said he was only marrying me to spite my ex. He planned to publicly call off our wedding during the broadcast to utterly destroy my reputation. He thought I was oblivious, still dreaming of becoming Mrs. Gerald. He had no idea I’d already replaced the ceremonial video file with that very recording, along with undeniable proof of his affairs. Caroline POV In seven days, I would marry Isaac. Our entire social circle buzzed with the same gossip: how I’d hit the jackpot, transforming from Floyd’s persistent admirer to Isaac’s cherished fiancée. Even I started to believe it. For years, Isaac had treated me like a treasure. He would drive across the city through a storm to bring me hot soup. He would postpone billion-dollar mergers to sit with me when I was unwell. He’d said, “Caroline, I’m going to give you a wedding for the century. The kind that silences every critic for good.” I believed him. Until ten minutes ago, when I received his text. “Honey, I had someone drop off the dashcam’s SD card. Could you grab the video of the fender bender for the insurance company?” This was followed by a voice message. “Thanks, babe. I’ll take you to that French restaurant tonight.” I smiled, typing “Okay” back, and inserted the card. The video was easy to find. After handling the accident, Isaac didn’t head to the office. Instead, he picked up two friends. I was about to close the file when a mocking laugh echoed from the speakers. “Isaac, that female driver was really checking you out. Caroline would be so jealous if she knew, right?” My hand, on the mouse, froze. I expected Isaac to defend me. “Jealous?” Isaac’s voice was cold, accompanied by the crisp click of a lighter. “Right now, all she can think about is being the most beautiful bride. She wouldn’t have time for jealousy.” My smile stiffened on my face. The conversation in the car continued, every word like a dagger. “Spending millions on this wedding just to spite Floyd, is it really worth it?” “What if Caroline clings to you afterward? You’ve been living together for four years, after all.” On the screen, Isaac exhaled a smoke ring, blurring his handsome profile. But it didn’t hide the coldness in his eyes. “A few million to see Floyd’s face fall flat? That’s a bargain.” He chuckled, as if discussing a worthless object. “On the wedding day, I’ll announce ‘game over’ in front of everyone.” “Floyd’s reaction will be priceless.” The car filled with the men’s crude laughter. “What about Caroline then? Getting dumped at the altar, live-streamed across the city – her life will be ruined, won’t it?” Isaac flicked his cigarette ash, indifferent. “It’s an adult game. If she’s stupid, who’s to blame?” The video cut abruptly. My study was deadly silent. I sat frozen in my chair, my blood turning to ice. So, those four years of deep affection were nothing but a meticulously planned deception. My stomach churned. I rushed to the bathroom, retching over the toilet, but nothing came up. Tears splashed onto the floor, and I fiercely wiped them away. Caroline, don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears. I splashed cold water on my face, looking at my pale reflection in the mirror. So, you want to play dirty? Fine, I’ll play along. I returned to my computer, my hands still trembling, but my eyes had grown cold. I backed up that five-minute recording of their car conversation, along with the accident video, to my cloud storage. Then, I only clipped the accident footage and sent it to the insurance specialist. My phone lit up with a message from Isaac: “Did you send the video? I’ll be back to pick you up soon. Wear that red dress tonight, you look gorgeous in it.” I stared at his familiar profile picture, my fingertips turning white from how hard I pressed them. Finally, I replied: “Sent.” Putting my phone down, I walked into my walk-in closet. The red dress hung in the most prominent spot, flown in from Paris by him last week. He’d said only my skin tone could pull off that shade of red. Memories flashed back to that stormy night four years ago. Floyd had thrown the birthday gift I’d made him into the trash, mocking me in front of everyone. “Caroline, do you not understand ‘no’? Just looking at you makes me sick.” Everyone laughed, and I felt like a pathetic clown. It was Isaac who emerged from the corner, draped his suit jacket over me, shielding me from those humiliating stares. “Come with me,” he’d said. “I’ll take you home.” That night, I thought he was my savior. Now I knew, all of it, every single thing, was a lie.

Caroline POV At 7 PM, Isaac arrived promptly to pick me up. He wore a deep gray custom suit, his tie the one I’d personally tied for him that morning. As soon as he got in the car, he leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Why are your hands so cold?” He held my hand, his brow furrowed, his eyes filled with concern. “Did you leave the study air conditioning on too high?” If I hadn’t heard that recording. I would have certainly believed myself to be the happiest woman in the world right then. I pulled my hand back, pretending to adjust my dress. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” Isaac didn’t suspect anything, smiling as he started the car. “Then let’s go, wouldn’t want my fiancée to starve.” The restaurant was on the top floor, offering a panoramic view of the city lights. As I cut my steak, I spoke casually. “Isaac.” “Hmm?” He smoothly swapped our plates, placing the neatly cut beef in front of me. “I ran into Austin today.” I watched his eyes, not missing a single flicker of expression. “He asked if I was nervous.” Isaac’s hand, mid-cut through the meat, paused. It lasted only a second, too brief to catch. Then he looked up, his smile perfect. “Don’t mind him. You just focus on being beautiful.” “He also said…” I tightened my grip on the knife and fork, my fingertips pressing hard. “Floyd’s back in the country recently, and he asked if that would make you awkward.” “Caroline.” Isaac put down his cutlery, reaching to cover my hand. His palm was warm, but his tone held an unyielding firmness. “Why bring that person up? I told you, we’re getting married. Everything from the past is over.” He looked at me, his eyes so deep with affection they could drown a person. “I only want you.” If that recording wasn’t still sitting in my cloud storage, I would have almost believed him again. “Right, it’s over.” I lowered my head, spearing a piece of beef and putting it in my mouth. Medium-rare, still a little bloody. It was premium quality, yet it tasted like sawdust in my mouth. “Oh, right.” Isaac seemed to remember something, pulling out a delicate velvet box and sliding it across the table to me. “I almost forgot, this is your pre-wedding gift.” I opened it. It was a sapphire necklace, deep in color and clearly very expensive. “Do you like it?” He looked at me expectantly. I gazed at the deep blue, suddenly recalling an Ins story Bethany had posted last month. The caption read: “Love this profound blue, but Isaac said it doesn’t suit me.” So, it didn’t suit her, and that’s why it came to me. Or perhaps, he bought two, and this was the leftover one? “I love it.” I closed the lid, curving my lips into a smile for him. “Must have been expensive, right?” “Spending money on you, any amount is worth it.” Isaac ruffled my hair, his eyes full of doting affection. I made an excuse to go to the restroom to touch up my makeup. Standing at the sink, I looked at the woman with perfect makeup in the mirror, forcing a smile that was uglier than a cry. If you want to play the doting fiancé, then I’ll help you out. I pulled out my phone and dialed my immigration lawyer. The call was answered immediately. “Miss Caroline, have you reached a decision?” I looked at my reflection, my voice chillingly calm. “Please reschedule my flight.” “To when?” “The morning of the wedding. Ten o’clock.” I hung up and reapplied my lipstick. Watching the vibrant red take shape, I felt my heart harden. Isaac. This last dinner, I will remember it well. When I returned to the table, Isaac was replying to messages. Seeing me, he quickly turned off his screen, smiling as he stood up. “Let’s go, home.” I linked my arm through his, feeling his muscles tense for a split second. “Okay, home.”

Caroline POV Five days before the wedding, Bethany arrived. Under the guise of helping with preparations, she brazenly moved into the Gerald estate. She was Isaac’s childhood friend. And in the circle, she was widely known as the woman Isaac truly loved. If not for the strong opposition from the Gerald family elders, the position of Mrs. Gerald would have been hers long ago. “Caroline, this evening gown is so beautiful.” Bethany stood in front of the fitting room mirror, wearing the red toast dress that was originally mine. The waist had been altered to be incredibly tight, accentuating her graceful figure. She twirled, looking at Isaac, who was seated on the sofa. “Isaac, don’t I look better than Caroline in red?” Isaac held a business magazine, not looking up. “Stop it, take it off. That’s for Caroline.” His tone was one of reproof, yet I couldn’t detect a hint of anger. Bethany pouted, reluctantly heading to the dressing room. “So stingy, I just wanted to try it on!” I sat nearby, sipping my tea, watching quietly. In the past, I would have been angry, would have argued with Isaac. Then Isaac would have patiently appeased me, saying I was narrow-minded, saying Bethany was just like a sister. Now, looking back, I realize how foolish I must have seemed. “Caroline, don’t mind her. Bethany’s just spoiled by me.” Isaac put down his magazine and reached for my hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll ask her to move out.” “It’s fine.” I avoided his hand, pouring him a cup of tea. “It’s lively with more people. Plus, there are plenty of rooms.” Isaac paused. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be so generous. Before, whenever Bethany appeared, all my defenses would go up. “You’re not mad?” He looked at me, testing the waters. “Why would I be mad?” I smiled. “She’s a friend, and she’ll be a frequent guest. Besides, it’s just a dress. If she likes it, let her wear it.” After all, I wasn’t planning on wearing that dress anyway. A flicker of surprise, then relief, crossed Isaac’s eyes. “Caroline, you’ve really changed. You’ve become more mature.” Mature? You all forced me to be mature. Just then, a sharp crash came from the dressing room. Followed by Bethany’s cry. “Oops!” Isaac’s expression shifted. He tossed the magazine aside and was already moving. So fast, I didn’t even react. At the dressing room door, Bethany was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by shattered ceramic pieces. It was a sculpture by a modern art master, which Isaac had paid a fortune for and gifted to me. “Isaac, I didn’t mean to…” Bethany’s eyes were red-rimmed, looking utterly pitiful. “I tripped, and I tried to catch the sculpture, but then…” Isaac didn’t even glance at the priceless artwork. He immediately knelt down, taking Bethany’s hand to check it. “Did you cut your hand? How can you be so clumsy?” “It hurts…” Bethany whined delicately. I stood a few feet away, watching the jarring scene. That sculpture, Isaac had once cherished it, saying it represented our unbreakable love. Now it was shattered into pieces, and he didn’t even bat an eye. “Caroline!” Isaac turned to me, his voice urgent. “Go get the first-aid kit, Bethany cut her hand.” I looked at him, unmoving. “What’s wrong?” He frowned, seemingly annoyed by my slow reaction. “Nothing.” I turned towards the cabinet, my voice calm. “It’s broken, so what? “It was old anyway. Time for a new one.” Isaac’s body stiffened. He seemed to infer something from my words, yet also seemed to miss everything. His attention was entirely focused on Bethany’s wound, which wasn’t even bleeding. I returned with the first-aid kit, placing it on the table. “You two can take your time. I’m tired, I’m going upstairs to rest.” As I turned to go upstairs, I heard Bethany whisper. “Isaac, is Caroline mad?” Isaac’s voice was irritable. “Don’t mind her. She was never this cold-hearted before.” I didn’t stop. Reaching the second-floor landing, I took out my phone and sent a message to the pet transport company: “Please add another pet transport ticket. I’m taking Buddy with me.”

Caroline POV Three days before the wedding, the jewelry company delivered the wedding rings. Isaac was on a video conference in his study, so he asked me to sign for them. I signed the receipt and took the heavy box into his study. He was listening to a subordinate’s report, his expression serious. Seeing me enter, his eyes softened instantly. He pointed to the corner of the desk, signaling me to put it down for now. I placed the box on the desk. As I turned, my elbow accidentally knocked over a stack of documents. They scattered across the floor, revealing a design blueprint hidden beneath. I bent down to pick them up. My movements paused the moment I saw the blueprint clearly. It was a rough sketch of a ring design. The main stone was a rare pink diamond, and the inside of the band was engraved with “Only One.” The date on it was half a month ago. The wedding ring I had just signed for, however, had a white diamond as the main stone and was engraved with the first initials of our names. Isaac took off his headphones and walked over. “What’s wrong?” He followed my gaze to the blueprint, his expression stiffening. He discreetly pulled it out and tucked it into a folder. “Nothing, just a discarded draft.” His tone was natural as he put an arm around my shoulder. “Did you try on the ring? Does it fit?” I looked at him and smiled. “Not yet. I’ll try it tonight.” At two in the morning, the person beside me was breathing steadily. I quietly got out of bed and walked into the study. I opened the safe; the password was my birthday. Inside, two identical dark blue boxes rested silently. I opened the one on the left. Inside was a pink diamond, engraved “Only One.” Dazzling. I opened the one on the right. A white diamond, engraved with our initials. Standard Isaac had once said, “Caroline, you are my only one.” It turned out this was the real “only one.” I took both rings out. And swapped their cases. I put the pink diamond into the box designated for the wedding, and the white diamond into the box that was originally meant for Bethany. After doing all that, I closed the safe. Back in the bedroom, Isaac rolled over, his arm instinctively reaching for me. I avoided his hand and lay on the edge of the bed. Moonlight spilled across the floor, lighting the calendar on the nightstand. A date was circled in red. Three more days until I could finally leave him.

Caroline POV Next, I started clearing out my belongings. My home was filled with all the gifts Isaac had given me over the past four years. Hermès bags, Cartier sets, limited edition high heels. Once, these were all proof of his affection. I contacted a luxury consignment store. Because of the sheer volume, they sent an appraiser directly to my home. “Mrs. Gerald, these bags are all brand new. Are you sure you want to sell them all?” The appraiser, wearing gloves, looked regretful. “Sell them.” I took a sip of coffee, my voice calm. “Transfer the money, the sooner the better.” Isaac returned just as several workers were moving boxes. The house was half-empty, feeling somewhat desolate. “What’s going on?” He frowned, looking at the empty walk-in closet. “I want to redecorate.” I walked over, helping him untie his tie. “Clear out all the old stuff. After we’re married, everything will be new. I want every corner of our home to be a fresh start.” Isaac paused. Then, a smile spread across his face. He probably thought I was hopelessly in love with him, wanting to completely bid farewell to the past and wholeheartedly become his wife. “Okay.” He took my hand and kissed my fingertips. “Whatever you want. As long as you’re happy, you can tear the house down.” I pointed to Buddy’s dog bed in the corner. “I sent Buddy to a pet hotel. It’s a bit messy here these days, and I didn’t want him to be disturbed.” Buddy was our golden retriever, whom Isaac usually doted on the most. “Whatever you say.” He didn’t show any suspicion, even looking a little touched. “Caroline, you’ve worked so hard for this home.” While Isaac was in the bathroom showering. My phone vibrated with a bank deposit notification. A long string of numbers, enough to buy a small apartment in London. I deleted the message and opened my private cloud storage. I scheduled the dashcam video to be sent at a specific time. The recipient was the wedding control center. The send time was 10 AM on the wedding day. After doing all this, the sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Isaac emerged, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping. “Honey, could you grab my pajamas?” I handed them to him. As he took them, he pulled me into his arms, his voice a little husky. “The wedding’s in two days. Nervous?” I leaned against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. “Not nervous,” I said. “I’m very much looking forward to it.” I’m very much looking forward to how surprised you’ll be when you see the grand gift I’m giving you.

Caroline POV It was the day before the wedding. I went to the wedding planner’s office to confirm the final details. As I stepped out of the elevator, someone blocked my way. Floyd leaned against the corridor wall, a cigarette held between his fingers. Through the haze of smoke, his face was as cold and arrogant as ever. “Caroline, you actually dare to marry him.” He flicked his cigarette ash, looking at me as if I were an idiot. “Do you really believe Isaac would change for you?” I stopped, looking at the man I had chased for seven years. Once, I would have waited in a snowstorm for three hours just to see him. Now, looking at him, my heart was surprisingly calm. “Mr. Floyd, do you have any advice?” “Isaac is playing you.” Floyd sneered, taking a step closer. “He’s been battling me for years; marrying you is just to spite me. Believe it or not, the moment the wedding is over, you’ll be nothing but a discarded pawn.” He was right. Unfortunately, he was too late. “So what?” I looked at him, a playful smile on my lips. “Are you feeling sorry for me, Floyd? Or do you just miss me?” Floyd’s face changed, as if he’d heard a joke. “Caroline, don’t get ahead of yourself. I just don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself, and then come crying to me.” “Don’t worry.” I smoothed my wind-blown hair. “Even if I were dying, I wouldn’t beg you.” Floyd’s face darkened. “You’re truly ungrateful.” I walked past him, heading for the elevator. As I brushed past, I stopped and turned my head to look at him. “Floyd, make sure to sit in the front row tomorrow.” I smiled, my voice soft. “After all, this show wouldn’t be as exciting without an audience like you.” Floyd looked at me, brow furrowed. For the first time, his eyes held a flicker of confusion and something unreadable. The elevator doors closed, severing his gaze. My phone rang. It was Isaac. “Caroline, where are you? The planner says there’s a schedule change. They need us for a rehearsal.” I stared at the vibrating screen. A change? So they’re swapping out our memory slideshow for something else. “Okay, I’m downstairs.” I answered, my voice gentle. “I’ll be right up.”

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I’m a breakup expert. My specialty? Helping people cut ties and escape those toxic, dead-end relationships that just won’t quit. Today, a beautiful young woman walked into my office. “I want to place an order for my boyfriend,” she said, her voice soft. “He’s decided to divorce his wife.” I picked up the client file, but my hand froze when I saw the name: Daniel Miller, my husband. My hand trembled slightly, but the girl across from me, her head bowed, kept talking. “My boyfriend says his wife is a good person, so he doesn’t want to hurt her.” I forced a smile, staring at Daniel’s familiar face in the file. A bitter laugh bubbled up inside me. Three years as a breakup expert, and I’d finally landed my own case. 1 I set the file down, letting my gaze sweep over the girl. She wasn’t as striking as I was. Just ordinary. Pleasant enough. A slim frame, no children yet. Not much life experience, but clearly well-educated. When she called herself the ‘other woman,’ her eyes darted away with a flicker of awkwardness. “Ms. Chloe,” she began, “do you have any good ideas for my situation?” “My boyfriend said it would be best if his wife just decided to divorce him on her own. After all, they’ve been together for so long, and it would just be so awkward.” She pursed her lips, a shy, almost innocent smile blooming on her face. If I hadn’t been certain she didn’t recognize me, I might’ve thought she was deliberately taunting me. I twitched my lips into a professional smile. “Ms. Ashley,” I said, “how long have you two been together?” She paused, caught off guard. “What?” I raised my voice slightly. “Before I can give you a plan, I need to understand every detail of your relationship.” She nodded, understanding dawning on her face, her voice as clear as a meadowlark’s. With every word she spoke, my smile vanished a little more. “I’ve been with my boyfriend for three years. We met at the hospital.” “His family member was having a serious surgery that day, and he was so scared. He was smoking in the hallway, and I just happened to pass by and comfort him a bit…” She gave another bashful smile, her cheeks flushing. “And that’s how we met. Less than a week later, he confessed his feelings to me.” Listening to her sweet memories, my heart gave a sharp, painful jolt. “Did you meet on this exact day?” “Yes! How did you know?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. I just smiled, my lowered eyelashes trembling. Of course, I knew. Because three years ago today, I was giving birth to Daniel Miller’s first child at the city hospital. Calculating the time, they must have met while I was on the operating table. Difficult labor. C-section. I fainted three times. The memories now became a consuming poison, burning through me. I drew a slow, silent breath before asking the next question. “Do you know he has a child? She’s three. Just started kindergarten.” “I know, so?” Her earlier shyness evaporated into a careless shrug. “He already promised me that once the divorce is final, I’ll be Lily’s stepmother.” “The kid’s still young. Doesn’t really know what’s what. After a while, she’ll accept anyone as her mom, right?” “Ms. Chloe, don’t you agree?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the file. I nodded, my voice flat. “Yes, you’re right.” What a shame you’ll never get the chance. Receiving my affirmation, Ashley completely relaxed and continued to gloat. “Oh, and he showed me pictures of his wife. She has this long scar on her belly, it’s totally disgusting.” “He told me himself that every time he sees that scar on her stomach, he feels sick to his stomach.” Ashley suddenly looked at me, a curious glint in her eyes. “Ms. Chloe, what do you think that woman is thinking? Her stomach is so ugly, but she’s still clinging to her man. Is she just desperate for love?” She chuckled, a self-satisfied sound. I laughed too, but my eyes were chillingly cold. “Is it possible,” I asked, my voice dangerously soft, “that his original wife never knew any of this?” Ashley raised an eyebrow, her tone absolutely decisive. “No way!” “Daniel has a physical aversion to her. Unless she’s an idiot, there’s no way she wouldn’t have noticed.” “Ms. Chloe, you don’t know, but he’s so passionate with me in bed. He says he has no interest in that old hag at home and was just cooped up and frustrated. Ms. Chloe, wouldn’t you think it’s strange if you hadn’t had intimacy for three years?” “Strange,” I replied promptly, my eyes numb, fixed on the wedding ring I’d worn on my ring finger for four years. Daniel and I, we came from different worlds. But we went from campus sweethearts to marriage, a full eight years. When I was sick, he’d be frantic, once jumping out of his dorm window in the middle of the night to bring me medicine. When I was sad, he’d run eight blocks to buy me my favorite chocolates just to make me smile. During my pregnancy and childbirth, he never missed a single prenatal check-up. Every time he came home, he’d hug Lily and me first, telling us we were his most beloved family. Even these past two years, when we hadn’t shared a bed, he’d just soothe me, saying, “Chloe, you went through so much when Lily was born. I don’t want you to experience that again.” I thought that as a marriage progressed, it would naturally settle into a comfortable routine. How could I have imagined that he wasn’t just not wanting it anymore, but that he was getting his fill elsewhere? A chill spread from my feet, creeping into my bones. I asked my last question. “What are your divorce demands? Just for his wife to initiate the divorce?” Ashley shook her head. “Of course not! And you absolutely cannot let his wife find out my boyfriend cheated.” “You know, even though Daniel married into her family and got a leg up, he really worked hard to build his own empire.” “He’s been through so much. If his wife found out he cheated, she definitely wouldn’t let him go.” I squeezed my fingers, saying nothing. Ashley, still worried, reiterated her requests, finally adding, “Ms. Chloe, I know you’re the best breakup expert in the city. I’m really counting on you with my boyfriend and me.” I nodded, smiling as I agreed. “Don’t worry.” After she left, I immediately called my best friend, Jake. “Get your best detective and lawyer on the phone. I want to know everything Daniel has been up to for the past three years.” “Oh, and tell my dad too. Daniel cheated. Pull all investments from his company. Now.” “I want to see what he’s left with when he’s completely on his own.” 2 Jake, my best friend and business partner, was as efficient as ever. In less than half a day, he dropped a 128GB flash drive onto my desk. “Take a look, it’s all here.” I plugged in the drive and clicked open the first file. The first video, seemingly filmed in a high-end restaurant, showed Daniel, impeccably dressed in a black suit, looking every bit the charming gentleman, presenting 9,999 Bulgarian roses to the woman across from him. Just three months ago, for my birthday, Daniel claimed he was working late and came home with a single five-dollar rose he’d picked up from a street vendor. The second video was security footage from a mall. Daniel had his arm wrapped around Ashley’s waist, shopping lavishly in a luxury store. Designer clothes, jewelry, accessories-shopping bags piled up at Ashley’s feet. They looked sickeningly sweet, the kind that made your teeth ache. The cheap little keychain the sales associate gave them as a freebie at checkout? That was the birthday gift he brought home for Lily. I exited the file, my face expressionless, and opened the next one. Daniel’s bank statements from the past three years. Numerous large sums of money frequently transferred between several accounts, accumulating into a colossal amount that made my chest tighten. It all funneled into a private account ending in 776

The account holder. Ashley. He was secretly transferring assets, all under the guise of ‘consulting fees.’ Did he really think I wouldn’t notice such a crude trick? The coldness in my heart solidified. I clicked on the next file. It was a transcript of chat messages with Lily’s kindergarten teacher. In the screenshots, Ashley, using the name “Lily’s Mom,” repeatedly inquired about my daughter’s daily routine, asking about her meals and sleep. She’d even arranged to attend the next parent-teacher conference with Daniel, posing as Lily’s parents. My hand tightened on the mouse, not from sadness, but from sheer disbelief. Daniel’s affair had actually reached our daughter. When Lily was born, he was the one who got up in the middle of the night to feed her, to soothe her back to sleep. He promised me that no matter what, she would always be our beloved little princess. Even that morning, when Ashley mentioned wanting custody of Lily, I had felt a fleeting relief. At least Daniel still cares about our child. He wouldn’t hurt her even if we divorced. My chest felt like it had a gaping hole, an icy wind whistling through it. I couldn’t hold back any longer and pulled out my phone, intending to warn him to stay away from my child. But my phone buzzed first-a message from Ashley. She’d sent a selfie, asking for my opinion. “Chloe, quick, tell me if this outfit works! My boyfriend is taking his daughter and me to meet his parents tonight. I’m so nervous.” At the same time, Daniel also messaged me. “Honey, my parents miss Lily. I’m taking her to their place for dinner tonight.” “You’re busy with work, so I bought you movie tickets. Go relax and watch a movie tonight.” He attached a photo of Lily coming out of kindergarten. Looking at Lily’s innocent, wide-eyed smile in the picture, I suddenly chuckled. Why watch a movie when a family dinner is better? Since they’re meeting the parents, I, the original wife, should definitely go and vet the situation myself. 3 I hung up the phone and immediately drove to the old Miller family estate. On the way, I kept getting messages from Daniel. “Honey, are you at the movie theater yet? I think there’s an event at the mall today, did you see it?” He was testing me. But I wasn’t flustered. I quickly searched for the mall online, took a screenshot, and sent it to him. “Saw it. Looks busy.” My reply was dismissive, but it seemed to put him at ease. “Great, have fun. Love you.” His usual sweet talk. I felt a surge of nausea. I put my phone away and didn’t reply. I parked the car, pulled on a hat and mask, and quietly walked into the courtyard of the old estate. The family dinner hadn’t officially started, but almost all of Daniel’s relatives were already there. His mother, Mrs. Miller, was bustling around, her face beaming with delight. Her attentive and doting demeanor made her look like an impeccable, loving mother-in-law. It reminded me of when I hadn’t married Daniel yet. She was just like that then. My health was fragile, so she’d specially gone to a rural chicken farm to get fresh chickens, making me nourishing soups for every meal. I was sensitive to the cold, so she knitted scarves and crocheted slippers by hand, treating me like her own daughter. She even remembered my dad’s stomach problems, specially buying traditional herbs from the countryside, brewing them, and delivering them to our house. Even my dad, a shrewd businessman who’d navigated the corporate world for years, said, “The Millers are a decent family. I’d be at ease if you married into them.” But now, seeing Daniel walk in with a radiant Ashley, his mother was the first to rush forward and greet them. “This must be Ashley, right? You’re so beautiful, such a lovely girl.” “Daniel, you have to treat her well, don’t you dare bully her.” Even Mr. Miller, usually so stern, put down his newspaper and patted Daniel’s shoulder with a look of contentment. “Good taste, she clearly looks like she can bear children. Our Miller family really needs a woman who can have a son.” It was then I understood. They had disliked me for only having a daughter. They wanted an heir to carry on the family name. Ashley seemed quite pleased, subtly arching her back, her voice sweet. “Don’t worry, Daniel had me checked, and my body is perfectly fine. I can definitely have a son.” “Good! That’s wonderful!” Mr. and Mrs. Miller beamed with joy, vying to give Ashley gifts, pushing Lily, who was in the way, aside. Other relatives also crowded around, showering Ashley with endless praise. Amidst the clamor, I distinctly heard Daniel’s uncle, Uncle Ben, who had borrowed over two million dollars from us, clapping his hands and laughing. “Daniel, you’re truly accomplished! This is what a Miller man looks like!” Aunt Sarah, who I’d gone to great lengths to help get her daughter abroad, clapped and wiped away tears. “This is wonderful, I love Ashley. She’s so dependable!” And Liam, Daniel’s brother, who had repeatedly failed in his ventures and whom I’d always connected with my family’s resources, excitedly stood up to toast them. “To a long and happy marriage, and may you have many sons soon!” Every single one of them had genuinely received my help, been indebted to me, and taken advantage of my generosity. Yet at this moment, no one remembered my existence. No one even mentioned my name. Aunt Sarah, after wiping her tears, excitedly grabbed my three-year-old daughter, Lily, and pushed her towards Ashley, urging, “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and call her Mommy!” “Yes, yes!” Mrs. Miller seemed to remember, and taking Lily’s hand, she tried to place it in Ashley’s. “Lily, quickly, call her Mommy!” Lily looked at these people in horror, shaking her head frantically. “I don’t want to! She’s not my mommy, my mommy is Chloe Miller! Grandma, I want Mommy!” “Will you let Mommy come pick me up?” She naively thought that by begging Grandma, Grandma would help her. But in reality, Mrs. Miller’s face immediately turned cold. She grabbed Lily’s ear and twisted it hard. “You little brat! What nonsense are you talking about? She is your mommy! Call her now!” Mr. Miller looked at Lily with disgust, not bothering to hide his displeasure. “Daniel, this is your well-taught daughter? So ill-mannered!” Ashley bit her lip, swaying precariously before collapsing into Daniel’s arms, looking at him with feigned injury. “Daniel, does Lily… not like me?” Daniel tenderly embraced her, comforting her in a low voice. “Of course not, darling. She’s just a child, she doesn’t know any better. Once we’re married, she’ll do whatever you say, and I won’t interfere.” Standing outside the door, watching this scene, I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed the door open. I looked at the stunned faces of everyone, a chilling, humorless smile playing on my lips. “Isn’t this a family dinner? Why didn’t you invite me, the original wife?” 4. The moment Daniel saw me, he froze. He couldn’t believe I was here, when I was supposed to be at the mall watching a movie. He instinctively recoiled from Ashley, his voice trembling as he asked, “Chloe, what… what are you doing here…?” In all our years together, it was the first time I’d heard such panic in his voice. Daniel’s eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. After so many years of painstaking deception, I wondered if he felt even a hint of guilt. Ashley, standing beside him, turned ghostly pale and couldn’t speak. She hadn’t imagined that her gleeful description of her mistress life, so smugly recounted to me in my office, would now crash headfirst into the very wife she spoke of. I walked slowly into the old estate. The Millers and their relatives were instantly thrown into disarray, all lowering their heads, unable to meet my gaze. Mrs. Miller, who had once been so affectionate and meticulously caring towards me, now stood in a corner, looking utterly mortified. All the relatives and friends who had just been disparaging me and praising Ashley fell silent. The old estate’s living room was eerily still. No one dared to break the temporary quiet. Suddenly, a glass shattered in a corner of the room. It was Daniel’s aunt, Aunt Carol. She had slammed her cup of tea onto the floor without a care. As if she’d been holding back for too long, she pointed at Daniel and Ashley in the center of the room, fuming. “You two filthy cheats! How can you do this to Chloe? Do you even have a conscience?” No one had expected her sudden outburst, so no one tried to stop her. Aunt Carol wasn’t done. She continued to point at the group of sanctimonious relatives, her eyes blazing with fury. “You bunch of ungrateful bastards! I’ve been sick of listening to you! Don’t you remember everything Chloe has done for this family over the years? Or have your consciences been devoured by wolves?” Her insults were truly foul, and the relatives, who had managed to hold their tongues so far, suddenly bristled. The first to speak was Aunt Sarah, who had just been effusively praising Ashley. “How can you say that? Since Chloe married into our family, she belongs to the Millers, in life and in death. It’s only natural for her to do things for the family. There’s no need for mutual accusations!” “Besides, when Daniel’s company was in crisis, she, as his lawfully wedded wife, chose to go back to her parents and beg them for money and help. No one forced her. Now, if she just wasn’t so clueless and stubborn, clinging to Daniel and refusing to divorce him, would things have gotten to this point?” After Aunt Sarah finished, Liam, Daniel’s brother, who had repeatedly failed in his ventures, couldn’t help but stand up and add, “Exactly! People from wealthy, high-status families should know the rules! Now, Ashley is already pregnant with Daniel’s child, and she’s still pretending not to know what’s going on? If she’s useless and can’t produce a son, does that mean no one else can? Honestly, Chloe, you should be grateful! It’s only because Daniel is soft-hearted. If it were me, I wouldn’t have tolerated her for three years. I would’ve kicked her out of the house ages ago.” Aunt Carol was speechless, fuming. She couldn’t be bothered to argue with them. She gave me a look of pity and then turned and left. Listening to their shameless arguments, I suddenly smiled. I looked silently at Daniel, who hadn’t spoken for a long time. “Daniel Miller, since your family all knows I’m your lawfully wedded wife, then what exactly is this… thing next to you?” Daniel’s face cycled between green and white. He was livid that I was publicly shaming him. He dared not contradict his relatives, nor did he dare contradict me, so he could only stand there, silently stewing in anger, not daring to say another word. He stood with his hands at his sides, like a child who had done something wrong. A long silence stretched. Finally, Mrs. Miller, who had always been close to me, spoke. She changed her affectionate and protective demeanor towards Ashley from earlier, coming forward to take my hand, then said with a look of apology, “Chloe, I was wrong about this. I shouldn’t have let Daniel keep it from you.” “But now Ashley is pregnant with Daniel’s flesh and blood. Our family can’t just disown her…” “Daniel’s child will be Lily’s sibling. Please, for Lily’s sake, can you accept Ashley and forgive Daniel?” Listening to Mrs. Miller’s moral blackmail, and remembering her past insincerity, I felt nothing but disgust. But before I could expose her hypocrisy, Ashley suddenly cried out. She clutched her stomach tightly with both hands, sliding to the floor, her face contorted in pain. “Ah… Daniel, Daniel, my stomach… it hurts so much!” No one knew what had happened, only that Ashley looked utterly pathetic. Daniel was heartbroken. All his attention was snatched away by Ashley, completely ignoring me standing by the side. He tenderly pulled her into his embrace, then turned to glare at me, his voice vicious. “Chloe Miller, that’s enough! My family and I have been patient with you out of respect for our past, but if anything happens to Ashley’s baby today, I swear I won’t let you off!” It was the first time he had spoken to me with such venom. Even in the past three years, when we shared a bed but our hearts were miles apart, and there was no longer the usual intimacy of a couple, He had still been courteous and affectionate with me. Of course, that was because he was an expert actor. Seeing the man who used to share my bed now hurling insults at me for another woman, my heart remained utterly still. My heart had already died the moment Ashley walked into my office and told me all those things. Watching the two of them ‘showing affection’ in front of me, I even found it a little amusing. I curved my lips into a slight smile, my voice calm. “You call this ‘too far’? Daniel Miller, compared to all the dirty things you’ve done, I haven’t even scratched the surface.” “But since you’ve already cursed me out, it would be a shame not to actually do something to earn it.” With that, under everyone’s astonished gaze, I deftly turned on the projector in the center of the living room. I plugged the flash drive my friend gave me into the console, skillfully took out the remote, and pressed play. The scrolling images on the screen plunged the scene back into a deathly silence. The group of people who had just been arrogant and ferociously aggressive now stood speechless, watching the content on the screen. It displayed three years’ worth of evidence of Daniel and Ashley’s affair and cheating. Even more, it detailed his records of property transfers, started long ago, to prepare for our divorce. And the money my parents had lent him in my name over the years, All the help and investment my family had put into his company, everything was laid bare before him. Though I doubt he was really paying attention. Daniel’s face was ashen, refusing to accept the facts before his eyes. But facts were facts; he couldn’t deny or explain them away. “I don’t believe it! This…all of this is fake! You fabricated it to frame me!” He shoved Ashley aside, lunged forward to snatch the remote from my hand, and tore the flash drive from the console in one frantic motion. Then he hurled both to the floor and stomped them into shattered pieces. “Chloe, these are all fake. Don’t take them seriously.” I looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, my voice cold. “You can destroy these all you want. I have plenty of backups. And do you really think these are the only things I found?” “What… what else is there?” Daniel’s voice shook. I thought of him taking Ashley to various events, posing as Lily’s parents, causing my daughter such deep psychological trauma, and it drove me insane. At this point, there was nothing left to hide between us. I scoffed. “All that money you, your uncle, and your brother lost over the years…it wasn’t just ‘business,’ was it?” “What are you implying? Of course it was!” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I silently pulled out another flash drive and played it on the big screen.

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While I was in the labor room, awaiting delivery, I got a call from my husband. He sounded calm, almost detached, as he told me: “Chloe, I cheated on you.” “Let’s get a divorce now, before the baby is born.” “Scarlett is young; she can’t handle the gossip and rumors out there.” “I have to give her a proper status.” “And don’t even think about using the baby to tie me down.” “You should know better than anyone how painful it is for a child to be born unloved.” I looked at the photos he sent, then nodded, understanding. No screaming matches like before. I didn’t tell him that his beloved Scarlett was a party girl with AIDS. And Julian, having lived a reckless life for too long, probably wouldn’t last another month. Julian came to the hospital to deliver the divorce papers just after I’d given birth. Because of complications during delivery, I was barely clinging to life. He glanced at my pale face and frowned, almost imperceptibly. There was no trace of concern or tenderness in his eyes. Only irritation that I had dared to make my own decisions. “Didn’t I tell you that this child shouldn’t be born?” “Scarlett doesn’t like children competing for my attention.” I looked at the sleeping baby in my arms, forcing a weak, pale smile. “I couldn’t help it. Your call came too late.” “By the time you proposed to Scarlett, I was already on the operating table.” According to my original due date, the baby shouldn’t have been born that day. But Scarlett had scared me into premature labor by sending me a dead rat. During my time in the hospital, I called Julian countless times, but no one picked up. As I was being wheeled into the operating room, fireworks exploded outside the window. I looked closer. It was Julian, trying to make his new girlfriend happy, who had spent millions organizing a grand proposal. Roses paved the path, fireworks lit the sky. In the pitch-black sky, drones spelled out: “Scarlett, I love you.” It was amidst the celebratory spectacle that I gave birth to our child, struggling through a difficult labor. Critical condition notices were issued multiple times, my phone rang off the hook, but no one answered. In the end, I gritted my teeth and signed the surgical consent form myself. Coincidentally, he arrived just as the baby was born. Not out of concern, but to rush me into signing the divorce papers. To make me take the child and get out, making way for his new girlfriend. I sighed silently to myself. But I still forced a smile and took the divorce papers. When I stood up, I accidentally pulled at the wound on my stomach. Bright red blood instantly stained the gauze, but Julian’s frown only deepened. “Chloe, you don’t have to play the victim for me.” “I’m not someone who forgets old ties. I won’t shortchange you when it comes to money.” “Just sign the papers, and I’ll pay all the child support at once, ensuring you both have a decent life.” My hand, holding the pen, paused. I looked at Julian’s cold face, and surprisingly, I didn’t feel sad at all. Maybe I’d cried all my tears away. I remembered when I first discovered Julian’s infidelity; I’d cried my eyes out, even threatened to die. But he just looked at me, standing with one foot out the window, and said with an indifferent expression: “Chloe, stop crying. I haven’t had feelings for you for a long time.” “There was a time when your tears broke my heart.” “But now… they just disgust me.” That night, he walked away, urged on by Scarlett’s voice. Leaving me alone to cry myself unconscious. I cried for a very, very long time. And finally understood how ruthless a man whose heart has changed can be. Unwilling to give up, I resolved to go down fighting, and started digging up dirt on Scarlett. I wanted to keep fighting. I wanted people to see Julian’s ugly true colors. But the moment I saw Scarlett’s photo. All the hate, all the resentment, vanished like smoke. Because I recognized her immediately. The ‘pure and innocent moonlight’ in Julian’s eyes was an AIDS patient I had once treated. Julian has a congenital heart condition. If he contracted anything, he could die at any moment. In that instant, I felt a sense of release. Karma always catches up to heartless and ungrateful people. I just needed to give fate a little push at the right moment. So, I didn’t argue or make a scene. I continued to carry our child, being the polite and proper Mrs. Sterling. Then, I quietly waited for the day Julian would die.

Lost in thought, Julian was already getting impatient. He thought I was reluctant to leave, and tapped the table irritably. “Chloe, what are you dragging your feet for now?” “Do you think I’ll respect you more just because you gave birth?” “Let me tell you, I don’t love you, and I certainly won’t love the child you bore.” “If you don’t sign, I’ll file for divorce, and your child will suffer the same tragic life as you!” He was right, the person who knows you best can hurt you the most. When I was eighteen, my parents divorced. My father forced my mother to leave with nothing and publicly disowned me. He forbade me from bearing the Miller name, from inheriting his estate, from having any connection to him. Abandoned by my own father, I became the laughingstock of our social circle. An object of ridicule and isolation for everyone. At that time, only Julian was by my side. He tirelessly walked me to and from school. He stood in front of me when I was bullied. He told me when I was sad and helpless: “Chloe, you’re the best.” “Even if the whole world abandons you, I’ll always be with you.” “I love you, and I’ll work hard to give you a happy, complete home.” For Julian’s promise. I gave up my original career path to pursue medicine, solely to cure his illness. I risked my life, enduring with him through a tumultuous battle over inheritance. I abandoned my future and career, staying home to prepare for pregnancy and nurture our child. I thought that after enduring all the hardships, good fortune would finally come. Who would have thought that Julian, during my pregnancy, couldn’t resist loneliness and cheated with Scarlett. After I discovered it, Julian showed no guilt for cheating, no shame for his betrayal. He simply told me, his face calm: “I can’t help it, Chloe, I didn’t want this.” “But that day, when I saw the stretch marks on your stomach, I suddenly felt disgusted.” “I couldn’t feel any desire for you, but I’m still a man, and I needed an outlet.” “And Scarlett, she gave me a thrill and sensations I’d never experienced before.” “So, I owed her the respect and status she deserved.” The Sterling family had strict rules, and Julian was known for his self-discipline. He despised keeping mistresses or engaging in casual affairs. So, he simply came right out and asked for a divorce. At that time, I was newly pregnant. To get what I wanted. To personally witness Julian pay the price. I endured all the humiliation. Even when Julian openly took Scarlett to various events. Even when Julian publicly shamed me in front of all the media, calling me a clingy, worn-out wife. I endured it all. All for this very moment. I picked up the pen and decisively signed my name on the divorce papers. Just then, Scarlett’s phone call came in, her sweet, simpering voice urging Julian: “Julian, are you done yet?” “I’ve changed and I’m waiting for you.” “You’re not having second thoughts about the divorce because of the baby, are you?” “If so, I’m never talking to you again!” Looking at the provocative photos Scarlett sent, Julian’s breath hitched for a moment, and his voice deepened. His eyes sparkled with a smile, like he used to coax me, he carefully coaxed his current sweetheart. Then he swiftly snatched the divorce papers, slammed the door, and left. The sharp paper left a thin, bleeding scratch on my palm. The heavy slam of the door startled the baby into loud sobs. The doctor rushed over to see what was happening. And Julian, from start to finish, never once looked back at us. I sighed lightly, about to soothe the baby. The doctor suddenly grabbed my hand, urgent. “What happened to your hand? Did Julian do this?” “Come with me for a check-up, do you know he has…” Such a disease, he couldn’t bring himself to say. But I calmly looked up, a genuine smile on my face. “Julian’s health has always been my responsibility; of course, I know better than anyone.” I had already received Julian’s test results yesterday. The outcome was exactly as I had expected. AIDS, positive. His heart, lungs, and blood vessels were already infected. A common cold, a sneeze, even strenuous exercise. Any of these could claim Julian’s life at any moment. So, in the coming month. The closer he got to Scarlett, the closer he got to his own death.

During my few days in the hospital, Julian was celebrating with Scarlett around the world. He bought Scarlett mansions and diamond rings. Announcing to the world that Scarlett was the true Mrs. Sterling. Julian seemed to have rediscovered the excitement of youth, loving her with a passionate intensity. The two spent a fortune at a club, and exchanged vows of eternal love beneath the Eiffel Tower. As if they had long forgotten my existence. I couldn’t be bothered with their little theatrics, and quietly began my finishing touches. After my body had somewhat recovered, I took Max to the family estate. Whether I could inherit all the Sterling family’s assets. Whether I could establish a firm foothold in Sterling Corp. The most crucial thing was to win over the powerful Mr. Sterling. As soon as I entered the estate, I heard a fierce argument. Mr. Sterling hurled a teacup at Julian, shouting angrily: “You scoundrel!” “You caused a huge scene back then to be with that woman, and now, after such a short time, you’re causing another fuss for a divorce.” “You’ve completely ruined the Sterling family’s reputation for generations!” Julian pressed his lips together, silent, only stubbornly shielding Scarlett behind him. That stubborn look made me momentarily disoriented. Years ago, he had knelt before Mr. Sterling in the same way, asking to marry me. As the only son of the Sterling family, the family had already arranged a more suitable marriage alliance for him. But Julian refused outright, dead-set on being with me. Back then, he had knelt before Mr. Sterling, as stubborn as he was now. He knelt until everyone in the Sterling household softened. So many years had passed, and Julian hadn’t changed at all. The only difference was that the woman standing by his side, the woman in his heart. Was no longer me. I was hesitating whether to step forward. Suddenly, the baby in my arms began to cry loudly. Hearing the commotion, Julian turned his head. But he made no move to help. He watched me, helpless, trying to soothe the baby, his eyes full of annoyance that I had disturbed him. In the end, Martha, the nanny, couldn’t stand it anymore and took the baby from me. Seeing his grandson, Mr. Sterling’s expression still didn’t soften. With a grim face, he threw a photo in front of me. “How you argue, how you make a scene, I don’t care.” “Just one thing: you absolutely cannot affect the Sterling family’s reputation or the company’s stock price.” “Explain this photo to me!” The photo Mr. Sterling threw down was a screenshot from Scarlett’s live stream. As an influencer, Scarlett never missed an opportunity to show off her wealth or her relationship. Yesterday, during her live stream, someone spotted a box of special medication for AIDS on her vanity table. Although it was just a small screenshot, it still caused quite a stir. Sterling Corp.’s PR team did their best to suppress the issue, but it still reached Mr. Sterling’s ears. I looked at Julian’s grim face, and quietly stepped forward to intercede. “It’s a misunderstanding. This is a new drug our team is developing.” “I’ll explain everything to the media; it won’t affect the Sterling family’s reputation.” Seeing me resolve the situation so thoughtfully, Mr. Sterling nodded in satisfaction. He gave Julian a meaningful look. Then, he took out a gold locket and hung it around Max’s neck. “Chloe, don’t worry.” “You bore the Sterling family’s firstborn grandson; the Sterling family will never mistreat you.” “If Julian dares to act up again, come to me, and I’ll sort it out for you.” “I’ll teach that insolent brat a good lesson!” I no longer needed anyone to stand up for me. When Julian and I were at our worst. Everyone, from the Sterling household to our former friends, sided with him. Some criticized my flaws, others accused me of not being generous enough. Julian, even more arrogantly, told me: “Chloe, you’re just an outcast, abandoned by your own family. What right do you have to argue with me?” “With one word, I could decide your honor or disgrace.” It was from that moment that I understood. Love and affection in this world are all fake. Only power and money in your hands are real. I finally managed to appease Mr. Sterling. As I was getting ready to go home, before I even reached the street corner, Julian slapped me.

The slap was hard, with no restraint, full of force. My face instantly swelled up. Julian’s expression hadn’t softened one bit. He looked at me coldly. His eyes, once full of tenderness, were now brimming with disgust. “Chloe, I truly underestimated your schemes.” “You pretend to agree to the divorce, but behind my back, you frame Scarlett and complain to my grandfather.” “Do you think this will win back my heart, that it will make me love you again?” “I’m telling you, dream on!” “I’m sick of looking at your face.” “Even if you stood naked in front of me, even if you died in front of me with the baby in your arms, it wouldn’t make me feel an ounce of sympathy!” Julian’s voice was loud, and his words were cruel. It drew a crowd of onlookers. As if to deliberately humiliate me. He slammed the car door and sped away. A moment later, my phone pinged with a message. Julian had frozen all my bank accounts, leaving me with nothing to walk home. Seeing me turn back, Martha looked distressed. “Mr. Sterling is asleep, we shouldn’t disturb him.” “Sir asked me to tell you to take this opportunity to reflect.” “If you try any more tricks, you won’t get a penny after the divorce.” See? Relying on others is always unreliable. Fortunately, I had long since seen through these people and had no expectations left. I held Max and walked forward without looking back. A one-hour walk, for me, still recovering from childbirth. Every step was excruciating pain. By the time I reached the villa, I was drenched in sweat. In so much pain, I could barely breathe. The housekeepers, seeing my state, rushed to help me, but kept hesitating to speak. Curious, I looked up and saw my belongings scattered everywhere. My wedding photos with Julian. Long-cherished medical reports and ancient medical texts. And all the small items that held memories of our past. Some were crossed out with a huge lipstick ‘X’. Others were soaked in dirty water, giving off a foul stench. Immediately after, I heard Scarlett’s faint, coy moans. “Julian, you’re so naughty, you tore my clothes again.” “How are you going to make it up to me this time?” His deep voice, brimming with desire and affection: “Good girl, how about I transfer the title of this villa to you?” “We can plant your favorite flowers in the garden together, decorate the nursery together.” “I’ll give you everything you want…” I was already used to it. But hearing those words, I still couldn’t help my eyes welling up a little. Because Julian had once said these very things to me. Back then, he swore to the heavens that he would give me and our child the best life possible. But now, he’d pulled out the flowers I’d planted, thrown away our wedding photos. He wouldn’t even spare a glance for our child. The coldness and fickle nature of the human heart. I had experienced it to the extreme. After a brief moment of thought, I wiped away my tears and walked out with Max. The housekeeper, worried, hurried after me. “Madam, it’s so late, where are you going alone?” “There are still so many things here, are you just leaving them?” I took a deep breath, speaking with firm restraint. “No, I don’t want them.” A tainted man and a tainted past. I didn’t want either. I warned the housekeeper not to touch anything Julian or Scarlett had come into contact with. I told her to make sure everything was thoroughly disinfected. Martha nodded frantically, and fearing I had nowhere to go, even forced a few hundred dollars into my hand for a hotel. “Madam, Sir still cares about you.” “You… just wait for him to get tired of playing around, settle down, and he’ll come back to you.” He won’t be back. Because Julian won’t live that long. Sure enough, that very night. Julian started spitting blood uncontrollably in Scarlett’s bed and was rushed to the hospital.

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My husband, Dax, had a nasty temper. He was constantly belittling me, making me feel worthless. My best friend, Chloe, kept pushing me to divorce him, and I actually listened to her. I divorced him decisively, even agreeing to leave with practically nothing but Leo. I never imagined that after the divorce, I wouldn’t be able to afford our family expenses. By the time I swallowed my pride and went back to him, begging for help, I found out he’d married Chloe. Chloe had him wrapped around her little finger, happy as a clam, and all his money was flowing straight into her accounts. That’s when it hit me: Chloe had been after Dax all along, subtly poisoning our relationship. The betrayal shattered me. I was so heartbroken, I ended up in a car accident. The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes again, and it was that exact moment when Chloe was first trying to convince me to divorce Dax. I blocked her on SnapChat without a second thought. Then, I turned to Dax, who was busy criticizing my outfit, calling it ugly and my taste terrible, and I plastered a sweet smile on my face. “Darling,” I said, “I’ll change immediately. Whatever you say.”

It had been two years of marriage, and this was the first time I’d ever given Dax a pleasant look during an argument. He actually looked stunned for a moment. While he was still blinking, I’d already swapped my T-shirt and jeans for a slip dress and walked out of the closet. Dax’s expression softened, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. “That’s better. Next time, don’t wear such ugly clothes. They don’t suit your vibe.” Seriously, who dresses up like that just to chill at home? But Dax liked to see me that way. If things weren’t exactly his way, his words would turn sharp and cutting, laced with sarcasm. I used to not understand it. We were both successful actors, we fell in love and chose to get married… why did getting a marriage license suddenly make me less than him, like I was beneath him? I always resented it. So, every time he criticized my clothes, I’d fight him tooth and nail. Once, twice, three times. Dax would get so furious his face turned purple, and I’d feel terrible too. Afterward, I’d vent to my best friend, Chloe, and she’d immediately tell me to divorce him. “Honestly, Cassie,” she’d say, “it’s all about equality these days. What kind of guy still acts like such a tyrant at home?” “Everyone treats their wife like a princess, terrified of hurting her or making her sad, right?” “It’s just your Dax, thinking he’s hot stuff because he gives the family a little money every month, acting like a big shot all the time.” “It’s one thing if you put up with him, but your parents have to put up with him too? That’s just too much.” “If I were you, I’d divorce him. There are plenty of other fish in the sea, girl. Dump him and find yourself a sweet, devoted younger guy. Watch him fume.” Though I was angry, I still hesitated. “But… but I’ve been out of the industry for so long, and Leo’s only one. What if I divorce now and can’t find work?” Chloe cut me off. “How could that happen? Your acting skills are just as good as his, if not better!” “Besides, I’m still in the industry. Worst case, I’ll introduce you to a few projects. We’re not going to believe we can’t make it without him, are we?” Despite her words, I actually wasn’t keen on divorcing. Once I calmed down, Dax and I argued and went back and forth for quite a while. That is, until Dax went off to film in a remote, isolated location for three months. While he was gone, a severe flu strain swept through our house, infecting everyone, from my parents to little Leo. I got pretty sick too, with a fever reaching 102 degrees Fahrenheit. I called Dax, but he was incredibly busy. After only two sentences, he exploded, yelling, “Cassie! You’re in your twenties, can’t you go to the hospital? Can’t you hire a nurse? What do you think I give you money for?” “I’m in the middle of nowhere, miles away from civilization, and I can’t just drop everything and come back. Why are you calling me non-stop? Isn’t there enough chaos already?” Listening to the chaotic sounds of crying and coughing echoing from the living room, I felt wronged and scared. I choked out, “Dax, I just wanted you to comfort me a little.” “I don’t have time!” Dax took a deep breath. It sounded like the director was rushing him. He controlled his anger, saying, “You figure it out yourself, damn it. The crew, hundreds of people, have been waiting for this snow scene for ages. I have to go shoot.” “Don’t call me these next couple of days. I’ll message you when I’m done.” With that, he hung up and blocked my number. I stared at the glaring red exclamation mark, my heart aching with shock and pain. Just then, Chloe called. After hearing what happened, she helped me get my parents and Leo to the hospital. After everything was settled, she sighed repeatedly as she looked at me. “See? I told you Dax was useless, didn’t I? Besides giving you some money, what else can he do?” I was speechless, unable to utter a word. Chloe then sent me a dozen videos about how men in marriage are unreliable, how it’s better to live alone, and how if a man isn’t there when you need him most, it makes no difference whether he’s around or not. Watching those videos, I truly started to consider divorcing Dax. But I never realized Chloe had ulterior motives. I also failed to grasp that even after getting married, Dax had always provided for me financially. Leaving him meant losing the three hundred thousand dollars in living expenses every month. This ‘useless’ thing she talked about was what allowed me to live comfortably without a care, ensuring my parents and Leo were happy and well-provided for. So, when I opened my eyes again, Dax’s nature in my mind had changed. He wasn’t my husband anymore; he was my personal ATM, my sugar daddy. Even dealing with a boss means sucking up and taking some crap sometimes, right? So what if my sugar daddy yelled at me a bit? Understanding this, I immediately forced a smile. Looking at Dax, I said, “Darling, you must be tired. Shall I run a bath for you?” He nodded, not speaking.

In the bathroom, I drew a large bath for Dax, even thoughtfully testing the water temperature with Leo’s rubber duck. When Dax walked in, he was still watching my back. “Cassie.” “Hmm?” “Are you still mad at me? I explained it already. Hanging up on you and blocking you that day was an emergency. You’ve been on set too, you know how much pressure it is when hundreds of people are waiting for you to start work.” “We specifically traveled to that remote mountain location just to wait for that heavy snow. If we didn’t get the shot right, who knows when we’d get another chance? The entire production would be delayed, and I couldn’t bear that responsibility.” “You’re in this industry too. You should understand.” He spoke with a stern face, his voice urgent. As he continued, his temper began to flare again. In the past, I would have stood there, hands on my hips, arguing back. Work is important, but weren’t his wife and child important too? My parents and Leo were all in the hospital; what was wrong with me making a worried call? But now I understood: Dax was a straightforward guy, almost simplistic. Like all men, he married to simplify his life, not to create problems. When hormones were raging during our courtship, he indulged and pampered me. But once married, he wanted comfort, freedom, and the effortless warmth of a home. I walked over, hooked my arms around his neck, and nuzzled him like a kitten. “Okay, I get it. Calling you that day was my fault. I shouldn’t have been so anxious and failed to consider your situation.” “You’ve been suffering in the mountains for two months; you deserve a good rest. Just soak in the bath for now. We can talk about anything else after you’ve relaxed, okay?” I stroked his cheek and noticed that when I played along with him, when I stroked his ego just right, Dax didn’t get angry. He let out a long sigh, unusually good-tempered. “Cassie, if only you were always this understanding.”

I knew why Dax looked that way. I was eight years younger than him, and when I married him, I still had a childlike mentality. During our courtship, he catered to my every whim, spoiling me rotten. After I got pregnant, my parents came to live with us, and since I was their only child, they listened to my every word, pampering me like a delicate princess. So, Dax often told me he felt like he’d married a daughter, not a wife. I thought this was a sign of his love, until I saw him with Chloe. To please him, Chloe was so docile that she’d even kneel to tie his shoelaces when they came undone. Dax’s heart just melted. “You don’t have to do that. I can do it myself.” Chloe just smiled. “It’s okay, I want to treat you well. You put up with a lot when you were with Cassie. Now let me love you and spoil you like a child.” Her words, seemingly soft, carried immense weight, subtly manipulating him. Dax’s expression shifted, and he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, darling. I never knew what love was until I met you.” “Come on, let’s go to the mall. I’ll buy you an LV bag.” Chloe demurred, “Why waste the money? You work so hard to earn it.” But she didn’t object, instead kissing Dax. I watched them like a creep, hand in hand, shopping. Dax bought Chloe a ton of things. Unlike his frequent outbursts with me, he was always calm and peaceful with Chloe. If he occasionally spoke too sharply, Chloe would gently pat his chest. “Darling, just take your time. Your loud voice scares me.” She had him completely under her thumb. Watching Chloe, that masterful manipulator, it suddenly hit me. I had been too naive, too childish. Dax was genuinely an excellent catch. An orphan, incredibly handsome, and he held a significant position in the entertainment industry. I was lucky to have found someone like him. After we got married, he even moved my parents into the spacious home he’d bought. He was often away, filming for months at a time, but my parents, Leo, and I lived a comfortable, dignified life, sustained by the three hundred thousand dollars he transferred monthly. Besides a fixed allowance, he’d sometimes buy me diamond necklaces and designer bags. At the end of the year, he’d transfer another hundred or two hundred thousand dollars to my parents. His major income wasn’t squandered either; besides investing in real estate, he’d also set up an education fund for Leo. Such a good man, just with a bit of a bad temper. Why did I have to be so stubborn and fight him? I felt like smacking myself silly. My naivety had jeopardized my entire life, and that of my parents and Leo. This time, I would learn from Chloe. I needed to play the gentle card. I refused to believe I couldn’t make this work.

The next afternoon, Dax was still asleep. My parents, as usual, kept the food warm, waiting for him to wake up. I had just put Leo down for his nap and eaten a couple of dumplings. Mom walked over and nudged my elbow. “Oh, Cassie, why are you so well-behaved today? No yelling at Dax for sleeping in?” After all, I used to be much less patient. If Dax wasn’t up by ten, I’d storm in and rip the covers off, complaining that he didn’t eat with the family and didn’t respect my parents. This time, I just smiled at Mom. “He’s tired from filming. Let him sleep. I’m a mother now; I can’t keep acting so immature.” “Oh, Robert, come listen! Our daughter says she’s being sensible now!” Mom chuckled, going to tease Dad about me. Watching them huddle together, a wave of sadness washed over me, a bitter ache in my chest. In my previous life, I had insisted on divorcing, and with barely any money, they had to find jobs in their old age just to maintain our previous standard of living. I didn’t know how they’d managed after I died. And Leo, barely a year old, had lost his mom. My heart was heavy with pain and regret, my eyes starting to well up. Dax opened the door, coincidentally catching sight of me. His heart inexplicably twitched. He walked over. “What’s wrong? Who upset you?” I immediately snapped back to reality, shaking my head at him. “Nothing. I just feel so happy with our life right now.” Dax was surprised by my words, looking a bit stunned again. After freshening up, he sat at the head of the table. I served him a plate of food and then a bowl of soup. “Mom simmered this all morning. Try it.” Dax took a sip, his face stern as he commented, “Hmm, it’s a bit too strong. Don’t put ginger in next time.” Mom gave an awkward laugh. “The pork stomach will be too fishy without ginger.” “Then try another method. Anyway, I don’t like it. The most important thing is to find a solution. People cook abroad without ginger, and their food’s perfectly edible. Use your brains a bit, stop sticking to old methods.” He reverted to that domineering tone, and I felt the familiar spark of anger ignite within me. I struggled to suppress the urge to snap back, took a deep breath, and said, “Then we’ll try a different recipe next time. Is there anything else you don’t like? This fish is pretty good.” With that, I put a piece of fish on Dax’s plate. Throughout the meal, everyone except Dax ate a bit cautiously. After clearing the table, he was off to a work meeting, grabbing his phone on the way out. “Cassie, I transferred you half a million dollars. Use it to buy some things for your parents.” “Director Miller has a script he wants to go over with me. I probably won’t be home until very late tonight.” He’d just gotten home last night, and today he was leaving again. He was always coming and going, barely seeing our son. I originally wanted him to leave a little later, to say goodbye to Leo, so Leo wouldn’t forget what he looked like. But then I reconsidered. No, my sugar daddy’s main job is making money.

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The moment my husband Liam entered me, the lubricated passage didn’t bring the expected pleasure. Instead, it was a searing, burning pain. I panicked, trying to get up. Suddenly a figure crawled out from under the bed—it was Liam’s female friend, Chloe. “Bro, you actually did it! That’s my bestie!” I stared at them in disbelief. Chloe waggled a bottle of mustard at me. “Liam lost a dare, he had to swap the lube for mustard. You’re not mad about it, are you?” Liam tilted his head slightly, a smug smirk plastered across his face. “Don’t worry, she can take it. She practically begged me to trap myself in this marriage, so she needs to be a little more understanding.” I was in too much pain to straighten up. Fine. If this is a cage, I’ll smash it to pieces. I hailed a cab to the hospital, not looking back. Behind me, I could still hear the mingled jeers and laughter of men and women. Liam, I’ve truly had enough this time. I clenched my jaw, enduring the searing pain ‘down there’ as I checked in, desperate not to let anyone notice anything wrong. Sweat dripped from my forehead. But when I reached the OB/GYN waiting room, there was already a long line. “Excuse me, how much longer will it be?” The older nurse shot me an impatient glare. “What’s the hurry? You were having such a blast doing it, weren’t you? Now you can’t even wait a minute?” I leaned against the wall, my pale face reflected in the window. I wanted to curse, but I didn’t even have the strength to speak. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Liam. I thought back; he hadn’t messaged me in almost half a year. My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone. He sent me a business card for a gynecologist. My traitorous heart skipped a beat. I hastily contacted the doctor he recommended. “You must be Aubrey, right?” He helped me onto the cold examination bed. “Relax, just take off your pants.” The room was vast, so vast it made me anxious. I forced myself to ask. “Is there a female doctor available?” I couldn’t read his expression behind the mask. But I had a vague, unsettling feeling that he wasn’t exactly friendly. “To a doctor, there’s no difference between men and women, it’s all just flesh. What’s the big deal?” “Liam always said you were a handful. Guess he wasn’t kidding.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, until the metallic taste of blood in my mouth snapped me back to reality. Following his instruction, I lay naked on the machine. Suddenly. A burst of laughter echoed from above. My shame reached its peak at that moment. “What’s so funny?!” I screamed it. “So, things aren’t exactly harmonious in your bedroom with Liam, huh?” “So desperate for ‘fun’ you’re using mustard to spice things up? ” “No wonder Liam dragged us to Chloe’s place on your wedding night. Honestly, you’re pretty loose ‘down there.’ I know a great doctor who does tightening procedures, want me to send you their number?” My brain exploded in a buzzing haze. “Liam was with Chloe on our wedding night?” But on our wedding night, the next morning, I woke up to Liam sitting neatly beside my bed, looking at me so tenderly. He pulled a jeweled necklace from his pocket. And with such deep affection, he placed it around my neck. “That ring you lost yesterday wasn’t good enough for you. I bought this overseas at an auction overnight. Only the most dazzling gem in the world is worthy of my Aubrey.” I was utterly moved. “Everyone always knew Liam and Chloe were meant to be. You’re the one who got in the way.” Whether it was revenge or unintentional, I couldn’t tell. The spray of medicine on my intimate area sent a searing, gut-wrenching pain through me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, splashing onto the floor. When I got home, clutching the medicine, Chloe was perched on Liam’s lap, taking bites directly from whatever he was eating. I stormed over, grabbed Chloe by her hair, and with all my strength, slapped her twice. Chloe’s cheeks swelled up grotesquely, making her look ridiculous. But I still didn’t feel satisfied. Before I could even raise my hand again, Liam kicked me across the room. “Enough!” His eyes burned with pure disgust and revulsion as he looked at me. “Aubrey, what the hell is wrong with you?!” “Chloe already explained, it was just a dare.”

Liam carefully helped Chloe up, cradling her protectively, trying to soothe her. I lay slumped against the wall, my lower back throbbing where my sharp heel had dug into it. Pain spread through my entire body. I still gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand. “What do you mean, ‘just a dare’?” “Then tell her to take off her pants, and let me put some mustard on her too!” Chloe, who always prided herself on being ‘one of the guys,’ was now crying hysterically. “Liam, your wife is trying to take my pants off! Aren’t you going to do anything?” “Why does she always misunderstand us? How am I ever going to get married now?” Liam gently wiped away her tears, his expression filled with heartache. Hearing her talk about getting married, I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s easy! Just move in with her son, and you two can be a happy family!” Before I could even finish, Liam exploded in a fit of rage. His eyes looked like he wanted to devour me whole. “How many times do I have to tell you, we’re just friends! Control your filthy mouth and stop spreading dirty rumors about Chloe!” I was about to expose their wedding night rendezvous. But Liam, panicked, scooped Chloe up and rushed out. “A girl’s skin is so delicate, we need to get her to the hospital immediately.” He didn’t forget to threaten me on his way out. “If anything happens to Chloe’s face, you’re dead, Aubrey.” Chloe, nestled in his arms, smirked at me provocatively. Watching Liam stride away, practically sprinting, I pulled at the corner of my mouth. The difference between love and not-love was quite stark. I packed my things, realizing I only had one small suitcase. The house was cluttered with countless items. All things I’d bought for Liam. I wanted him to see them and think of me. My parents had set me up on a blind date with an old man. When I arrived and saw the 300-pound old man, I knew I had to run. Liam was leaning against his motorcycle, smoking. “Please, take me away.” In the distance, I could already see my parents chasing after me. I could only place all my hope in him. Liam looked at me, then at my parents, who were speeding toward us. He raised an eyebrow. “Get in.” That day, he drove me through half the city. I secretly made a vow to myself. I wanted a home of my own. I saw Liam again when my parents cornered me outside my office. “Look at yourself! A man wants you, you should be grateful, not picky!” On the verge of breaking down, I pressed a knife to my throat. “Take one more step, and I swear I’ll die right here.” My mom’s tone finally softened. “Aubrey, darling, what kind of woman doesn’t get married and have children?” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Liam pushed through the crowd, pulled a card from his pocket, and tossed it at their faces. “The PIN is 484848.” “Consider yourselves punished – go home and try for eight boys. If you can’t, I’ll freeze this card.” He appeared in my life like a knight in shining armor. “I really like your personality. Don’t ever change.” No one had ever told me they liked my personality before. I was almost like a hedgehog, all my defenses on full display. Our home was filled with all sorts of musical instruments. He bought them to teach me. Back then, we talked about everything, from the stars in the sky to the most trivial everyday things. He was always eager to share with me. But when did it change? It changed the moment Chloe appeared at our wedding. When he placed the ring on my finger, his gaze drifted for a split second. I asked him. “Who is that woman?”

Liam gently rubbed the top of my head. “Just a friend, don’t overthink it.” I had never been in love before, never really had close friends outside of a small circle. So, I believed him. And he completely, utterly betrayed me. I reined in my thoughts and placed the divorce papers on the table. Dragging my suitcase, I walked out the door. Slap. The moment I pushed the door open, my dad’s hand connected sharply with my face. I was completely stunned. I stumbled back two steps before I could regain my balance. Before anger could even register. My dad flung a stack of photos right at my face. “Have you no shame?!” “If you’re so itchy ‘down there,’ go scrub yourself with a steel wool pad! Mustard? You’ve completely shamed us!” Those photos were of my intimate area, taken at the hospital today. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. My mind went blank. “I…” My mom crumpled to her knees at my feet, sobbing. “With a shameless daughter like you, who has no self-respect, how do you expect your sister to ever find a husband?” “What will people think of us now?” She looked insane, thrusting a bottle into my hand. “Just drink it.” I looked down. It was a bottle of Paraquat. My hand shook, and the bottle rolled down the stairs. I looked at my parents, who seemed to want to kill me at that moment. I started laughing, then suddenly cried. “Are you two really my biological parents?” My question stunned them for a moment. My dad was the first to react, his face turning beet red with fury. “You’ve done this to yourself, and you still have the nerve to ask if we’re your real parents?” “Now the photos are all over the internet, everyone has seen them! Liam is definitely going to divorce you, and we can’t bear this disgrace!” “If you don’t drink this today, we’ll force it down your throat!” All over the internet. When those words flashed in my mind, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. A million tiny ants were gnawing at my heart. Liam. That doctor was recommended by Liam, and they knew each other. So, the photos were Liam’s punishment. Because I hit Chloe. My mom, hunched over, picked up the bottle, her trembling hand placing it back in mine. She cried. “Drink it, Aubrey. It’s for your own good.”

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My dad was in the ICU, kept alive by a ventilator. Through the viewing window, I watched Nurse Tiffany pull out my dad’s breathing tube, lift her phone, and flash a triumphant grin at his face. I burst in like a maniac, but she calmly reinserted the tube, smiling sweetly yet maliciously at me. “He’s dying anyway. Why not make a contribution?” I called the police and went to President Thompson, but the entire hospital hailed her as a hero dedicated to saving lives. I, they said, was an ungrateful lunatic. Until I crashed her awards ceremony, slamming a piece of evidence onto the projector screen. “Beep—beep—beep—” In the ICU, the cold beeping of the machines echoed like a grim prophecy, each sound hammering at my chest. My dad lay on the hospital bed, tubes running in and out of him. The only sign he was still alive was the faint, fluctuating line on the monitor. I only got half an hour of visiting time each day. Through the thick glass, I stared at my dad’s face, greedy for every moment, praying for a miracle. Today, a young nurse named Tiffany was assigned to my dad’s room. She had a sweet look with two dimples, seemingly harmless. But just as I was about to leave, something out of the corner of my eye made my blood run cold. Tiffany approached my dad’s bed and grabbed the ventilator tube near his mouth. I thought she was performing routine care, and my heart tightened. But the next second, she pulled the tube out without hesitation. The heart rate and oxygen levels on the monitor plummeted instantly, triggering a piercing alarm. And she—she pulled out her phone, aimed it at my dad’s bluish-purple face and the plummeting numbers on the screen, then flashed a triumphant grin. “Click.” She took the photo. “What the hell are you doing?!” Like a crazed lioness, I burst through the ICU door and charged in. The doctors and nurses at the station jumped at my shout and all turned to look. Tiffany looked startled by my sudden entrance, but there wasn’t a trace of panic on her face. Unfazed, she calmly reinserted the breathing tube before I could reach the bedside. The alarm stopped, and my dad’s vitals slowly started to climb, but his face had grown even paler and more lifeless than before. My heart felt squeezed by an invisible fist, a pain so sharp I could barely catch my breath. “Why did you pull out my dad’s tube?!” I stared her down, my voice shaking with rage. Tiffany batted her big, innocent eyes, her sweet face showing a hint of wounded indignation. “Charlotte, you’ve got this all wrong. There was a mucus blockage in the patient’s tube—I was suctioning it. Standard procedure.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but loud enough for the colleagues gathering at the door to hear clearly. “Does standard procedure involve taking photos for Snapchat?!” I pointed at her phone, shaking with fury.

The innocence drained from Tiffany’s face instantly, replaced by a chilling mix of indifference and mockery. She stepped closer to me, and in a voice only we could hear, she chuckled, “He’s dying anyway. Why not make a contribution?” A contribution? What kind of contribution? Before I could fully process her words, she’d already put on a tearful expression, on the verge of crying, and started complaining to the doctor and head nurse who’d rushed in. “Dr. Miller, I was just trying to help by suctioning Mr. Hayes’s phlegm, but Charlotte burst in accusing me of deliberately pulling the tube to kill her father… and taking photos… I only wanted to document my work, to stay motivated…” She sobbed dramatically, shoulders shaking, like she’d been horribly wronged. The man called Dr. Miller immediately frowned and snapped at me, “Miss Hayes! Calm down! This is the ICU, not a place for tantrums! Tiffany’s one of our top nurses—she’s saving your father!” “Saving my father? I saw her pull that tube out and take a picture with my own eyes!” I pointed at Tiffany, ready to explode with rage. “Enough!” Dr. Miller cut me off sharply. “Your father’s condition is unstable. We get that families get emotional, but don’t be unreasonable and disrupt our work! Get out!” Two security guards “escorted” me out of the ICU. The glass door closed behind me, sealing off my world. I watched as Tiffany, comforted by Dr. Miller, wiped her tears and slipped back into her sweet, hardworking nurse act, bustling around the ward. And her colleagues—they looked at me with scorn, like I was some irrational lunatic. Overwhelming helplessness and rage washed over me. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 without hesitation. “I need to report a nurse at City General Hospital’s ICU for attempted patient homicide.” The operator on the other end sounded startled but professionally took down the information. A short time later, two police officers arrived. I thought my rescuers had arrived, but reality hit me hard again. Dr. Miller, the head nurse, and Tiffany “recounted” the incident to the police. Their stories lined up perfectly, all claiming Tiffany was performing necessary suctioning, and that I—stressed over my father’s critical condition—was hallucinating. “Officers, here’s our hospital surveillance footage—you can see for yourselves.” Dr. Miller pointed to the corner camera, calm and confident. The police reviewed the footage. But the camera was too far from the bed at an awkward angle. It only vaguely showed Tiffany working at the bedside—no clear view of her pulling the tube or taking photos. Instead, the footage clearly showed me bursting into the ICU like a maniac, yelling at Tiffany. Next to that, I looked like the troublemaker. “Ms. Hayes, based on our information, we can’t confirm any illegal activity by Nurse Tiffany.” The young officer looked at me apologetically. “The surveillance video doesn’t back up your claim.” “What about the photos on her phone! She took pictures!” I clung to this last hope. Tiffany immediately handed over her phone. Her photo gallery lit up the screen. There were a few work-related ICU photos, but no close-ups of my dad—certainly none with her triumphant grin. She must have deleted them. “Officers, I really just wanted to document our medical team’s daily work for Snapchat—spread some positivity… I never thought it would cause such a misunderstanding.” She hung her head, looking wronged. The police checked her phone, handed it back, then turned to me with sympathetic tones. “Ms. Hayes, we get how tough this is with your dad so sick, but we need evidence. Why don’t you go home and rest? We can talk again once you’ve calmed down.” And just like that, they left. Leaving me alone in the cold hallway, feeling like a clown putting on a show.

I went home, feeling lost and defeated, and collapsed onto the couch. Something about this whole thing felt off. What exactly did Tiffany mean by “Why not make a contribution?” And Dr. Miller and the whole department—why were they protecting her so fiercely? Just because she was good at her job? I didn’t buy it. Right then, my fiancé Daniel came home. He was a sales director at a medical equipment company—usually polished and caring, my rock. I clung to him like a lifeline, pouring out everything that had happened that day. “That’s outrageous! How could that nurse do something like that!” Daniel listened, clearly outraged, and hugged me, comforting me gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this. I know President Thompson at City General—met him through work. I’ll go see him tomorrow and make sure you get answers.” Leaning against him, the tension that had coiled in my chest all day finally loosened a little. It was good to have him on my side. The next day, Daniel kept his word and went to see President Thompson. When he came home that afternoon, his expression was serious. “How did it go?” I asked nervously. Daniel sighed and pulled me down to sit beside him. “I met with President Thompson and told him everything. The hospital took it seriously and did an internal investigation all day.” “And the result? What are they doing about Tiffany?” “The hospital investigation concluded it was… just a misunderstanding.” Daniel avoided my eyes. “They said Tiffany’s their top young nurse this year—impeccable skills and character. They don’t believe she could do something like that. They think you might have been stressed and misinterpreted what happened.” The news hit me like a bucket of cold water. “I didn’t misinterpret anything! I saw it with my own eyes!” I stood up, shaking. “Calm down.” Daniel pressed my shoulders. “President Thompson said they’ll reassign your dad’s nursing team and waive part of the ICU fees as a goodwill gesture.” “I don’t want their money! I want justice! I want Tiffany fired and apologizing!” “Honey!” Daniel’s voice sharpened. “Your dad is still in their care! We can’t burn bridges right now! What if they retaliate with his treatment? We can’t fight this.” His words cut like a knife, hitting exactly where I was most vulnerable. He was right—Dad was in their hands. I couldn’t take that risk. I caved in the end. Not for the lousy compensation, but for Dad. I swallowed my pride and accepted the hospital’s so-called “misunderstanding.” They assigned an older, seemingly reliable nurse to Dad. Tiffany never showed up in Dad’s room again. I thought that was the end of it. But I was being naive. A few days later, I was scrolling through Instagram when a friend who works in medical media reposted a blog article. The headline read: The Most Beautiful Frontline Worker: Facing Misunderstanding and Grief, She Chooses to Repay the World with Love. The story’s protagonist? None other than Tiffany. The article used overly dramatic language to “artistically reimagine” what had happened that day. In it, Tiffany was cast as a selfless angel in scrubs who held no grudges. And me? I was portrayed as a deranged family member, mentally unhinged by my father’s critical condition, who viciously attacked medical staff with no remorse. The comments section overflowed with praise for Tiffany and vitriol directed at me. “This family member is nuts! Attacking the person trying to save her dad!” “You go, Nurse Tiffany! Don’t let people like that get to you!” “Hospitals should ban unreasonable family members like her!” The worst part? Tiffany herself commented: “Thanks for all your support! I’ll keep doing my best. As for that family member, I get where she’s coming from—I don’t hold it against her.” Her sugary-sweet, holier-than-thou act made me sick to my stomach, even through the screen.

The article went viral, hitting over 100k views in no time. Tiffany became famous overnight. She was named Star Nurse at City General—even local TV wanted to interview her. And me? I was the villain in this online circus. What hurt most was that friends, coworkers, even distant relatives saw the article. They started hitting me up on Snapchat, subtly asking if I was the “difficult family member” in the article. Some told me to “be the bigger person,” others straight-up called me unreasonable. I couldn’t defend myself—there was no point. Daniel saw the article too. He showed me his phone,furrowed his brow. “What the hell? How could the hospital twist things like this?” I looked at him and laughed bitterly. “You told me to play nice, remember? This is what happens when I do.” “I…” Daniel stumbled over his words, then hugged me again. “I’m sorry, I failed you. Don’t worry, I’ll fix this. I’ll go to the media and blow the lid off this whole thing!” I didn’t say anything—I was just exhausted. The truth? Against their PR machine and all these lies, did my side of the story even stand a chance? Daniel said he’d help me contact the media, but days went by with nothing happening. Every time I asked, he’d say, “Soon, babe, I’m working on it.” Meanwhile, Tiffany’s star just kept rising. She started posting all these “inspirational” updates on her socials. One day it was her “volunteering” to cover a poor patient’s medical bills. The next day, it was her “late-night study session” reviewing nursing protocols—so “dedicated.” Her followers blew up, and she became this mini-celebrity overnight. One night, she posted a photo. It showed a brand-new Hermès Birkin bag with the caption: “A thoughtful gift from a grateful patient’s family. I feel so honored—this just motivates me to work even harder to earn this trust!” That bag made my blood boil. Since Dad got admitted to the ICU, I’d blown through over a million dollars—almost my entire life savings. I couldn’t even afford a nice bag for myself. And her? A regular nurse getting a designer bag worth six figures from a “patient’s family”? What kind of “family member” shells out that kind of cash? My gut screamed something was off. I started digging around quietly. I went to the hospital daily—not just to visit Dad. I watched the other families camped outside the ICU, just as desperate as me. I tried chatting them up, casually asking about Tiffany. Most brushed me off. Finally, an older woman—Mrs. Davies—started talking to me. Her husband had been in the ICU for two months after a car crash. I carefully brought up Tiffany, asking if she knew her. Mrs. Davies’s face tightened. She studied me warily. “Why do you ask about her?” “Oh, nothing—my dad was under her care before, and there was some… misunderstanding.” “Misunderstanding?” Mrs. Davies scoffed, yanking me to a quiet corner. She dropped her voice. “Listen, honey—that nurse is bad news.” My pulse raced.

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The year my younger brother was diagnosed with end-stage renal disease, I didn’t hesitate for a second—I gave him one of my kidneys. As his older sister, it felt like my responsibility to save him. The surgery was a success. Ryan bounced back, full of life, and became the family’s brightest hope. Meanwhile, my body deteriorated daily due to severe organ rejection. The costly anti-rejection meds quickly drained our family’s savings. My parents, initially so grateful, began looking at me differently. “Lily, can’t you skip a dose? We’re barely making ends meet.” “Ryan just started his new job and has plenty of expenses. As his sister, can’t you be more understanding?” “Lily, would you quit bringing up that kidney? I told you I’d pay you back once I’m earning!” Yesterday was Ryan’s engagement party. Wracked with pain, my hand trembled and I accidentally dropped the gift from his fiancée, Chloe. In front of all our relatives, Mom *slapped me across the face*. “You just can’t stand your brother’s success! You want to drag us all down with you!” “If life’s so painful, why don’t you just die already?!” Staring at the shattered pieces on the floor, I suddenly didn’t feel like explaining anymore. I took my last breath right there in front of them—exactly what they wanted. But they never knew I’d stopped taking my life-saving medication a month earlier to save money for Ryan’s upcoming wedding. The cramping in my abdomen felt like a hand was tearing my insides apart. A coppery taste rose in my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate not to cough up blood. Mom was obsessive about cleanliness, and this carpet had just been replaced for Ryan’s engagement. If I stained it, she’d lecture me for hours. Earlier, I’d merely trembled from pain and knocked over Chloe’s expensive collagen jar. Mom’s slap hit hard across my face. It stung like hell, but surprisingly, my heart felt completely calm. Because this was the end. From now on, I’d never make her angry again. Never be a burden to this family again. I wanted to go back to my room and lie down. Passing through the living room, Ryan frowned in annoyance, brushing off his suit jacket. “Seriously, she just had to ruin a perfectly good day.” “Mom, next time relatives come over, keep her in her room. Having a sick sister like her is so embarrassing in front of Chloe’s family.” Mom gently smoothed Ryan’s collar. “Just ignore her. She’s just acting out because she’s jealous of your engagement. It’s her usual drama—she gets worse the more attention you give her.” Dad sat on the couch smoking, not even glancing my way. “Get back to your room! Don’t just stand there looking like a ghost! That dead expression on your face makes me sick!” I hung my head and whispered, “I’m sorry.” My voice was so faint it got swallowed up by the cheerful TV noise. I went back to the storage room—less than five square meters. This was my bedroom now. Ever since they cleared out the master bedroom for Ryan and Chloe after the wedding, I’d moved in here. No windows, just a creaky folding bed. I fumbled in the dark under the bed and pulled out my pill bottle. It was already empty. The doctor had warned I wouldn’t live more than a month without this medication. Today was exactly day thirty-one. Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to die. I’d just wanted to save money. Last month, I’d overheard Mom and Dad doing calculations in their room. They were still ten thousand dollars short for Ryan’s wedding. And my year’s supply of medication cost exactly ten thousand dollars. Mom had sighed and said, “If it weren’t for Lily and her endless medical bills, Ryan would’ve been married long ago.” That’s when I decided—I wouldn’t take the medication anymore. I wanted to be the mature one for once. I wanted Mom and Dad to be proud of me, like they were of Ryan. The excruciating pain returned, worse than ever. I curled up on the folding bed, my body contorted like a shrimp. Cold sweat soaked through my clothes. Laughter and cheerful voices drifted in from outside. They were discussing wedding decorations, what kind of jewelry to buy Chloe. It sounded so lively. I wanted to go out too—just to get a glass of hot water. But I couldn’t. I was afraid I looked too terrible—afraid they’d accuse me of “faking it for attention” again. My vision started to blur. I grew colder and colder, like I’d fallen into an ice cave. I managed to pull the thin blanket over my head. That way, if Mom found me first, she wouldn’t see how bad I looked right after I died. She got queasy easily—last time she saw my dialysis needle marks, she looked disgusted. I couldn’t upset her like that. Breathing got harder—my lungs felt empty, like they’d been sucked dry. In my final moments, I thought I heard Mom’s voice. “Lily! Quit pretending and get out here to wash the dinner dishes!” Mom, this time I really can’t. Next life, I’ll be a healthy daughter. No more meds, no more bills, no more worrying you. Darkness swallowed me completely.

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating mid-air. Looking down, my body lay on that narrow folding bed. The blanket covered my head, showing only a pair of pale, shriveled hands. They were covered in needle marks and bruises—ugly, just like Mom always said. I tried to tuck them under the blanket, but realized I couldn’t control that body anymore. So people really do have souls after they die. I drifted through the bedroom door and into the living room. The living room lights were harsh on my eyes. Dinner leftovers still cluttered the table. My family sat on the couch, eating fruit. Ryan was peeling an apple, griping, “Lily’s so rude. She didn’t even come out to say goodbye when Chloe left.” “I told Chloe she wasn’t feeling well, but Chloe probably thinks I’m mean to her.” Mom scoffed, spitting a sunflower seed shell into the trash. “What’s her problem? I saw her practically sprint back to her room earlier—her legs looked fine!” “She just doesn’t want to help out! Lazy as always!” “For years, she’s used that kidney as an excuse to boss us around. Say one word, and she throws a fit.” Dad frowned and stubbed out his cigarette. “Enough,” “We’ve got to take Chloe’s parents to see the venue tomorrow. Tell her to get up early and clean the house.” “She’s a grown woman living under our roof, eating our food—no sense of responsibility.” I hovered nearby, listening. Strangely, I didn’t feel that familiar ache in my chest anymore. Maybe my heart had already stopped caring. I looked at Mom. Her temples were graying, and wrinkles creased around her eyes. She’d stressed herself sick over Ryan’s wedding. Well, it’s over now. I’m gone. They wouldn’t have that endless drain anymore—the one who only took and never gave. The money saved would pay for Ryan’s fancy wedding. Even when they had grandkids someday, they wouldn’t have to worry about my medical bills. I was actually happy for them. “I’ll go tell her to clean up.” Mom stood, wiped her hands, and headed for the storage room. My chest tightened, and I floated over to block her path without thinking. “Mom, don’t go.” “I look too awful. I’ll scare you.” “It’s late, and you have to get up early tomorrow. Don’t let me make you mad.” I waved my hands frantically, trying to push her back. But my hand went right through her. Mom didn’t notice, walked straight through me, and reached the storage room door. She banged on the door. “Lily! Come out!” “Don’t think you can hide in there! Do you want these dishes to grow mold?” Silence. No answer. Before, I would’ve rushed to open the door, put on my apron, and started cleaning. I’d always been terrified of Mom getting angry. When she got mad, she’d say she regretted ever having me. But today, no matter how hard she knocked, the person inside would never answer. Mom knocked a few more times, then got even angrier when there was no response. “Fine! Getting bold, are we?” “Giving me the silent treatment?” “Ryan, get the spare key. I’m dragging her out of there today!” I hovered nearby, panicking, circling frantically. Don’t open the door. Please, I’m begging you. Don’t open it. Not tonight. Let me keep what’s left of my dignity for one more night. But Ryan stayed on the couch, looking irritated. “Mom, why get so worked up over her?” “She just wants you to coddle her, make you feel guilty.” “If you go in there, you’ll play right into her hands.” “She’s probably just lying there faking weakness. Then she’ll start complaining about stomachaches and headaches to get money for those useless supplements.” Mom stopped knocking when she heard that. Ryan had a point, she decided. “You’re right. That girl’s full of tricks.” “Last time she said she felt sick, then guilted me into sending her two thousand dollars for medicine.” “What kind of medicine costs that much? She’s probably saving up for herself!” I opened my mouth to explain. That wasn’t supplements. It was life-saving anti-rejection medication. And one bottle cost over three thousand. I even used a thousand I’d saved from working. But no sound came out. Mom scoffed, turned around, and went back to the living room. “Not coming out? Fine.” “Starve then! No one’s gonna baby her!” “We’ll see how long she lasts! Let her rot in there for all I care!” She flipped off the living room light. Everyone went to their rooms for the night. The house fell silent as a tomb. I collapsed onto the floor, letting out a shaky breath of relief. Good. They hadn’t found me. Their words stung, but at least they’d get a good night’s sleep.

Early next morning, the house buzzed with activity. Today was when they’d finalize the hotel booking and Ryan would formally introduce Chloe’s family to his parents. Mom wore her nicest dress—the one she saved for special occasions. She even put on makeup, making her look years younger. Ryan sported a sharp suit with his hair gelled back. Dad polished his new dress shoes. The whole family grinned from ear to ear—all except the storage room door, still tightly shut. Mom laid out breakfast on the dining table. Boiled eggs, warm milk, Ryan’s favorite crispy bacon, and fluffy pancakes. The smell filled the house. I hovered by the table, staring at the steaming pancakes. Strangely, I didn’t feel hungry anymore. Normally by now, I would’ve woken up, mopped the floors twice, hung the laundry, and be sipping leftover rice porridge. Ryan sat down and bit into a pancake. “Mom, Lily still isn’t up?” “So lazy. The sun’s practically up.” Mom glanced at the storage room door, disgust flickering across her face. “Ignore her. She’s just being dramatic.” “We’ll lock the door from the outside when we leave.” “That way she can’t sneak out for food or mess up the house while we’re gone.” Dad sipped his milk and frowned. “Isn’t that overkill? What if she’s actually sick?” A tiny spark of hope lit in my chest. Dad still cared. But his next words doused it cold. “Chloe’s parents are seeing the house today. We don’t need her looking all sickly and ruining things.” “Locking her in is for the best. She won’t embarrass us that way.” So they were afraid I’d embarrass them. Right. With my purple-tinged skin and stiff body, I was quite the embarrassment now. Ryan shoveled food into his mouth, talking with his mouth full. “Exactly. Last time Chloe was over, she saw Lily taking meds and went home asking if Lily had something contagious.” “I explained forever it was from the kidney donation, but Chloe still got weirded out.” “She said someone that sick would just be a burden later. Suggested we keep our finances separate.” Mom panicked when she heard that. “Separate finances? No way! Who’ll help with grandkids? You’ll still need me and your dad!” “But Chloe’s got a point. Lily’s health is a real problem…” Mom paused, staring at the door with a complicated look. “After you two marry, I’ll find her a husband.” “We won’t need much for her wedding. Just someone who’ll cover her medical bills.” “Even if he’s divorced with kids, or older—as long as can cover her medical bills…” I hovered there, listening to them plan my future. Marry off a dying woman? Mom, you overestimate my worth. In my condition, not even a housecleaning service would hire me. Besides, I was already dead. Dead people don’t get married. After breakfast, the family—dressed to impress—got ready to leave. Before leaving, Mom made a point of walking to the storage room door. She took out a key and turned it twice in the lock. Click. The door locked from the outside. “Lily, we’ve got important guests today. Stay put and behave.” “You can wash last night’s dishes when you get hungry enough to come out.” “Don’t think a hunger strike will work. I’m not falling for it!” She tucked the key in her pocket, linked arms with Dad, and walked out. Bang. The front door closed. The house went quiet again. Sunlight streamed through the living room window, casting dust motes that danced in the beams. So warm. So bright. But it couldn’t reach the dark, cramped storage room. Or the body growing cold inside. I floated back into the storage room and knelt beside my body. Staring at the shape under the blanket. Suddenly, it all seemed ridiculous. They’d locked up a corpse. Thinking they were punishing a disobedient daughter. They thought I was in there pouting, reflectioning. But I was decomposing. Minutes dragged by. The sun crossed the sky. Light in the house faded. After an eternity, keys jangled in the lock. They were home. With guests laughing behind them. “Come in, please. This is the house we prepared for the kids.” “It’s no mansion, but it’s one of the nicest in the neighborhood.” Mom’s voice gushed with pride. My chest ached. Guests? They can’t open that door! They can’t let guests find a dead body in the house! That would ruin Ryan’s wedding for sure! I rushed to the door, desperate to block it somehow. Though I knew it was pointless.

Lots of people filed in. Chloe was there with her parents. They complimented the house—said it was nicely decorated and spacious. Mom beamed, bustling around with tea and snacks. “Oh goodness, excuse the mess. Please don’t mind it.” Chloe’s mom glanced around, eyes landing on the storage room door. “What’s this room? Why’s it locked?” Mom froze, then forced a smile. “Oh, just a storage closet. Full of old junk we never use.” “It’s a mess in there—all dusty. Not worth seeing.” I let out a shaky breath. Good. Mom was too embarrassed of me. In this moment, her shame was my protection. As long as they kept that door closed, everything would be fine. But Chloe spoke up. “Aunt Sarah, I thought Lily lived in this room when I visited last time?” “Is Lily in there? Why isn’t she coming out to greet us?” The room went silent. Ryan jumped in to smooth things over. “No, Lily moved out ages ago. Just storage now.” “With her health issues, she couldn’t live in such a small space.” He was lying. To impress his future in-laws, he’d erased me—his own sister. Chloe looked confused. “Really? I could swear I smell something weird…” She sniffed, frowning. “Smells like something’s rotting. Did a mouse die in there?” My stomach dropped. It was summer, and the storage room had no vents. Only a day and night, but the smell must have started. Mom’s face paled. She smelled it too. That sickly sweet stench of decay seeped under the door. Cutting through the fruit and tea smells in the room. “Probably an old fermented jar that didn’t seal right.” Mom laughed nervously, sweat beading on her forehead. “I’ll check it out. Don’t want it bothering you.” She hesitated, but Chloe’s dad—clearly a man who noticed things—already looked annoyed. “You should really keep better care of the place.” “With the wedding coming up, you can’t have odors like this.” Mom had no choice. She gritted her teeth and pulled out the key. Muttering under her breath, probably cursing me. “You rotten girl! What have you done now? Did you intentionally make this mess to spite me?!” “Just wait till I get my hands on you!” She was sure I was misbehaving. That I was getting back at her for last night—purposely stinking up the place to embarrass them. She stomped over and jammed the key in the lock. My spirit trembled. Mom, don’t open it. Please don’t. You’ll regret it. You’ll have nightmares. Click. The lock turned. Mom threw open the door, and a wave of putrid stench hit them. It was overpowering—like years of bitterness finally breaking free. Guests in the living room clamped their hands over their noses. Mom gagged, hit full force by the smell. “Lily! Did you… did you crap in here?! What is that smell?!” She cursed, fumbling for the light switch. Snap. The dim bulb flickered to life. The storage room’s contents were exposed for all to see. It wasn’t as messy as she’d claimed. Actually, it was quite neat. Only the figure on the folding bed lay still. A blanket pulled tight over it. And on the concrete floor beside the bed, a dark, dried stain. What I’d coughed up before I died. I’d tried wiping it with tissues, but I was too weak. Half remained on the floor. Mom froze. She stood in the doorway, hand still on the door, like a statue. “Li… Lily?” Her voice shook. Gone was her earlier frustration, replaced by terror. “Stop messing around… get up…” “Guests are here… don’t embarrass me…” She reached out a trembling hand, wanting to pull back the blanket. But her hand froze halfway, then jerked back. That smell told her what she couldn’t bear to admit. Ryan came over too, pinching his nose. “Mom, what’s her latest drama?” “Lily! Get up! Chloe’s parents are here!” When I didn’t move, my brother marched over and grabbed the blanket’s corner. “Quit faking! This isn’t funny!” He yanked hard. Whoosh. The blanket flew to the floor. My body lay exposed in the light. Curled up in pain, now stiff and contorted. My face was purple, eyes squeezed shut. Dried blood crusted the corners of my mouth. Worst of all, the swelling from stopping my meds had warped my features. Ah!!! Chloe screamed, diving behind her dad. The blanket slipped from my brother’s hand. He stumbled back, legs buckling, and collapsed to the floor. “Lily?” Mom’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She stared at me, lips trembling, unable to speak. Seconds of dead silence passed. Then a bloodcurdling scream that nearly shattered the bulb above. “Lily—!!!” Mom lunged forward like a woman possessed, grabbing my cold, stiff body. “My baby! My baby, what happened?!” “Don’t scare me like this! Please don’t!” “I’ll never scold you again! Just open your eyes! Please!” She shook me violently, as if trying to jolt me back to life. But I was already gone. Completely gone. No one to hear her words, or wash the dishes piling up on the table. I hovered near the ceiling, watching the chaos below. Mom sobbing until she fainted. Dad fumbling with 911. Ryan peeing his pants in terror. The weight on my heart finally lifted. Mom, see? I told you it would scare you. You insisted on opening that door. Now Ryan’s wedding is really ruined.

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As I prepared for my IVF sperm collection, I accidentally overhead my wife Chloe whispering to her mother—Dr. Davis: “Mom, I need to switch the sperm sample. I want Brandon’s baby.” Dr. Davis sounded confused: “But Brandon’s dead, honey. How could you possibly have his sperm?” Chloe fell silent for several seconds before blurting out, “It’s Mr. Hayes Sr.’s. Brandon’s mom is too old to have another baby, so I’ll carry their family’s child. You have to keep this from Liam.” Brandon had been Chloe’s first love. At that moment, I watched Mr. Hayes Sr. exit the adjacent sperm collection room. “Liam, my daughter’s making a huge sacrifice carrying your child. She’ll be hormonal during pregnancy—you need to be extra careful around her.” “And there are important pregnancy precautions—pay attention.” Dr. Davis stopped short, her expression hardening as she noticed my distraction. Chloe jabbed my arm sharply. “Liam, are you listening? Mom’s talking to you.” A bitter wave washed over me. My throat tight, I muttered, “Whatever. Handle it yourselves. I need to go.” I’d barely taken two steps when Dr. Davis’s voice cut through the air. “See? I never approved of him! You insisted on marrying this man, and look what happens! So irresponsible—how’s he supposed to take care of you and the baby?” I froze, her words dropping my heart to my stomach. Even before we married, I’d always been the one handling things for Chloe’s family. When her dad passed, she and her mom were lost. I took care of everything—funeral arrangements, bills, everything.” When Dr. Davis broke her leg, I cared for her around the clock for a month. After Chloe was attacked and struggled to cope, I spent two years helping her recover—every single day. But none of that seemed to matter to them. “Liam, apologize right now! Look how upset you’ve made Mom.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “And if I don’t?” Chloe’s tone turned icy. “Then I won’t have this baby.” That comment made my blood boil. I spun toward her. “Are you threatening me with another man’s child?” She froze, finally realizing I’d heard every word. “Since you heard, I won’t lie. You’re my husband, so you deserve to know—but I hope you can try to understand.” I lost it then, shouting, “Understand you carrying another man’s baby?” Dr. Davis stepped between us, snapping, “Who do you think you’re yelling at? My daughter can have a child with whomever she chooses! It’s her body—you have no say!” Chloe stared me down. “If you can’t accept this, we’ll get divorced.” Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I was furious, but some stupid part of me still wanted to fix this marriage. “If you’re dead set on having his baby, then our marriage is over.” With that, I walked out of the hospital and never looked back. Three years ago, after Chloe was assaulted and traumatized, I promised I’d never pressure her about having kids. Three years later, she was somehow planning to use her dead first love’s father’s sperm to have his child. As I exited the hospital, a familiar face waved at me from a car’s backseat. I climbed in, and we drove to a nearby café. The old man’s face was lined with deep wrinkles, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped his coffee cup. He looked like a tree withering in autumn.

“If you’ll let Chloe have this baby, I’ll compensate you generously. And I understand you’re bidding on that Southside development project?” “You won’t even need to bid. I can hand you the contract directly.” The speaker was Mr. Hayes Sr., CEO of Hayes Enterprises. His entitled tone made me bristle. “Why Chloe?” Mr. Hayes Sr. didn’t hesitate. “Because she was the only one who truly loved my son. That’s reason enough.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. If I told her what really happened to Brandon, do you think she’d still play along?” The words barely left my mouth before the old man erupted into violent coughing. I stood to leave when a familiar figure hurried over. She patted the old man’s back gently while shooting me a glare. “Liam, what did you say to Mr. Hayes?” It was Chloe. Somehow she always managed to show up right on cue. But the flicker of triumph in the old man’s eyes told me everything. I shrugged, forcing a tight smile. “Nothing much. Just mentioned a little secret.” Chloe frowned. “What secret?” The old man’s coughing stopped abruptly. “Liam doesn’t want you to have Brandon’s baby, that’s all. I can’t blame him, really.” Chloe’s temper flared immediately. “Liam, stop meddling in my life! My body, my choice. I’ll have a child with whoever I want—you can’t control me!” “And I already had the procedure done.” Looking at her determined face, my heart turned to stone. In that moment, I finally let her go. As soon as I walked out, I called my parents overseas. “Dad, I’ve made up my mind. I want to come home.” I spent the next few days in a fog, practically living at the office. Finally, Chloe called—probably tired of me not nagging her. “Liam, why aren’t you coming home? Do you even want this marriage anymore? Are we going to fix this or what?” Her unapologetic anger finally wore down my last nerve. I took a deep breath and said slowly, “Let’s get a divorce once I wrap things up here.” Chloe went silent on the other end. After a long pause, she scoffed. “Quit being so dramatic. You think divorce scares me? I’m having this baby, no matter what.” She hung up first. I laughed bitterly, feeling utterly helpless. From now on, her choices were her own. The baby? Whether she had it or not was none of my business. And that secret… there was no point telling her now. I used to be terrified of hurting her, afraid she couldn’t handle the truth. But now? It didn’t matter. Maybe her love for Brandon was strong enough to overcome that painful truth. I threw myself into work, determined to erase Chloe from my mind. Mr. Hayes Sr., clearly trying to punish me, made sure the project that should’ve been mine went to my competitor. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting, but with plans to join my parents overseas, this company no longer mattered. I started this business to give Chloe the life she deserved.If she doesn’t value what we have, there’s no point in me being her doormat anymore. I reached out to the firm that had previously expressed interest in acquiring my company. Just needed to wrap things up here, then I could leave this country for good.

During a rare lull in work, I checked my phone and found a flood of notifications. My Instagram was blowing up with 99+ messages. I tapped in and saw Chloe had posted something. The caption read: “Happy birthday, Brandon. I have a special gift for you this year.” The photo was an ultrasound. The comments were already blowing up, mostly from mutual friends watching the drama unfold. Mr. Hayes Sr. had commented first: “Thank you for honoring my son and our family this way. You’ve always been like a daughter to me.” Dr. Davis chimed in too: “Take good care of yourself, honey. Can’t wait to meet my grandbaby!” Then came the comments from our friends. “Chloe, that’s so selfless of you to do this for your ex.” One person snarked back: “Liam’s the real MVP here. Guess love means raising your wife’s baby with her dead ex?” Chloe must have seen the comments mocking me, but she didn’t delete them. So why should I protect her reputation anymore? I replied to every single comment: “Chloe and I are getting divorced. Her choices are hers alone from now on.” On the day of the company handover, I was stunned to discover Mr. Hayes Sr. was the buyer. He looked at me with disdain. “Now that you’ve sold the company, get out of town and never come back. I’ll take care of her from here.” “That money should set a poor kid like you up for life. Without my grandson, you’d be stuck slaving away at this failing business forever. Count your blessings.” I shot back, “Right, I should thank Chloe. If she hadn’t decided to have your grandson, I never would’ve gotten this ‘opportunity.’” My words barely left my mouth when Chloe and her mother walked in. Dr. Davis sneered. “You spineless coward! You sold your company, so hurry up and divorce my daughter already. Stop dragging your feet!” “After all, you used to wait on us hand and foot just to marry her. If my husband hadn’t taken pity on you, you never would’ve had a chance. You were never good enough.” “No family connections, no money—your parents didn’t even bother showing up to the wedding. You’re trash compared to Brandon.” Dr. Davis had always looked down on me. Now that I was leaving, there was no reason to hold back. I smiled coldly. “Congratulations, Mom. Soon you’ll have a CEO for a son-in-law.” Dr. Davis turned crimson with rage, while Mr. Hayes Sr. began coughing violently. Chloe slapped me hard across the face. “What’s wrong with you, Liam? Insult me all you want, but don’t you dare speak to Mr. Hayes like that!” The sting on my cheek snuffed out the last remaining embers of my love for Chloe. Mr. Hayes Sr. immediately signaled security. “Get this man out of my sight!” Two guards escorted me out, my pride in tatters. But just last night, my father had called with a mission.

When Chloe got home, I handed her the divorce papers. Her face fell when she saw them—no relief, just a flicker of sadness. Her voice softened, losing its usual edge. “Liam, can’t you try to understand? You know I never got over Brandon. What’s so wrong with giving him a child?” “If you think it’s unfair, I can always have a baby with you later.” I laughed bitterly at her absurd offer. “No thanks. Just focus on having that baby and becoming the Hayes’ golden daughter-in-law. I’ve held you back long enough.” Chloe’s jaw tightened. “Must you be so cruel? You know I’m not doing this for money. If I were, I never would’ve married you.” I stared at her coldly. “But you and I both know why you chose me.” If she hadn’t felt “damaged” after what happened to her, she never would’ve settled for me. Even married, her heart always belonged to Brandon. I wasn’t going to be her backup plan anymore. And I sure as hell wasn’t competing with a ghost. My words struck a nerve. Her face went white, and she ran to the bathroom, retching. When she emerged, her eyes were cold as steel. She picked up the papers and signed her name without hesitation. “Liam, we’re done. I hope you’re happy with your decision.” After her final remark, she grabbed her purse and stormed out. I didn’t feel sad—if anything, I felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted. Shortly after, I received an invitation from Hayes Enterprises. This was my father’s assignment: Hayes needed investment for a new project, and our family was their target investor. Once this deal closed, I’d be out of the country. Three days later, I attended the Hayes gala as scheduled. Of course, I ran into Chloe and her mother right at the entrance. Dr. Davis spotted me and sneered. “You actually think you belong at a Hayes event? Did they mistake you for valet parking?” I ignored her and pulled out my invitation. Chloe looked mortified. “Liam, just leave. Don’t make this worse. Security will throw you out if you stay.” I gave her a flat look. “We’re divorced, Chloe. My embarrassment is no longer your concern.” Chloe stamped her foot in frustration. “You ungrateful jerk!” Dr. Davis pulled her aside. “Calm down. Let him make a fool of himself. We’ll watch.” While they whispered, I’d already pulled out my invitation. As I moved to enter, Dr. Davis snatched the invitation. “Impossible! How could someone like you get a Hayes invitation?” Chloe snatched the invitation and scanned it, then laughed coldly. “This has a foreign name on it. You can’t even forge properly.” Dr. Davis scoffed. “Probably bought it off the street. Does he really think we’re idiots?” “Call Mr. Hayes. He’ll confirm it’s fake.” Chloe nodded and dialed. “Hello, Mr. Hayes? Did you send Liam an invitation?”

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