Thirty minutes before the private jet was scheduled to land, the air suddenly grew turbulent. The red wine in Damian’s hand sloshed, and the deep crimson liquid spilled down the side of the glass onto his custom-tailored trousers. His fiancée, Tiffany, gasped, recoiling with a look of distaste. She pointed at me, snapping, “Are you completely incompetent? Can’t even hold a glass steady? Hurry up and clean it for Damian!” I immediately knelt on the thick leather carpet, a warm towel in hand. My head bowed, my trembling fingers reached towards the legs of the man I’d once spent countless nights with. A soft, contemptuous chuckle came from above me. The next second, his icy fingers pinched my chin, forcing me to look up. “Crystal, you used to be so high and mighty. Now, for money, you’ve certainly mastered the art of kneeling.” I lowered my gaze, avoiding his scrutinizing stare. “Damian, I’ll cover the cleaning fee for your trousers, of course.” “Cleaning fee?” He slowly unbuckled his belt. “Since it’s my private jet, my rules go.” He leaned in close to my ear, his voice low, a demonic whisper. “You weren’t cleaning pants when you were in this position before.” 0

Crystal POV The hand holding the towel froze in mid-air. The air in the cabin seemed to solidify. Tiffany watched from the side, a hint of displeasure in her eyes. She probably hadn’t heard Damian’s whisper, likely just assuming he was scolding a clumsy flight attendant. I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning emotions within me. In the past three years, the most important thing I’d learned was to endure. “Mr. Damian, you’re joking.” I lowered my head, continuing my task, dabbing away the wine stain on his trousers with the towel. Through the expensive fabric, I could feel the tension in his thigh muscles. I guessed it was a physiological reaction of extreme aversion or extreme restraint. “Tiffany is right, I’m clumsy.” As I wiped, I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the newly opened bottle of red wine. Romanee-Conti. He used to only open it for me on anniversaries. Now, he was splashing it around like water. Damian didn’t speak again, just watched me coldly. His gaze was like that of someone looking at a dog begging for scraps. Seeing his silence, Tiffany seemed to think he was still angry. To appease him, she turned and snapped at me again. “Clean it properly! These trousers are custom-made. If you damage them, you couldn’t pay for them even if you sold yourself!” I dutifully replied, “Yes, Tiffany.” Of course, I knew I couldn’t afford them. All my possessions combined now probably couldn’t buy one toilet seat on this plane. After wiping away the last bit of wine stain, I prepared to stand up. Damian suddenly extended a foot, stepping on the hem of my skirt, which was on the carpet. My movement to rise halted, and I almost lost my balance and fell onto him. I clumsily steadied myself, still kneeling. “Damian?” I looked up, puzzled. He leaned back in his seat, his long fingers idly tapping the armrest. “If it’s an apology, is just cleaning it enough?” He pointed to the bottle, still half-full. “This wine isn’t breathing enough; I don’t like the taste.” “Since Crystal is a professional, why don’t you help me ‘wake’ the wine again?” Tiffany looked confused. “Damian, wasn’t this wine just ready?” Damian ignored her, his eyes locked on me. “With your mouth.” 0

Crystal POV I froze in place. “To ‘wake’ the wine with your mouth” – it was humiliating slang in this line of work, or perhaps a game for lovers. When we were together, he’d played that game at home. But now, we were thousands of feet in the air, in front of his fiancée. He wanted to strip away my last shred of dignity and stomp on it. “What? Not willing?” Damian raised an eyebrow. “I hear you’re really desperate for money now? That you’ll do anything for cash?” “If you ‘wake’ this bottle of wine properly, the tip for this trip will be doubled.” Doubled. Those two words pierced my ears like needles. I thought of my brother, still lying in the hospital, and that bill, like a death warrant. Pride means nothing when you’re fighting for survival. I slowly reached out and grasped the cold bottle of wine. “Alright, Damian.” I pulled out the cork, tilted my head back, and took a mouthful of wine. The liquid warmed in my mouth, its bitter taste spreading. I leaned over, approaching the empty stemmed glass, and slowly poured the wine from my mouth into it. The red liquid formed a thin stream, falling into the bottom of the glass. Tiffany let out a short gasp, seemingly startled by the sensual yet humiliating scene. “Oh my god, how disgusting.” She covered her mouth, a look of repulsion on her face. I ignored her, taking a second, then a third mouthful. Each sip felt like swallowing broken glass. Damian just watched, his expression shifting from playful mockery to deep intensity, finally settling into a cold, dead stillness. It wasn’t until half the bottle was in the glass, and I felt a little tipsy, my cheeks flushed. “Enough.” He suddenly spoke, his voice chillingly flat. I stopped, a drop of red wine still clinging to the corner of my mouth. He suddenly stood up, sweeping the wine-filled glass away. With a crash, the crystal glass shattered against the cabin wall, breaking into pieces. Red wine splashed everywhere, just like the bloodshot eyes I’d seen in the rain-soaked night when I’d left him. “Get out.” He pointed to the galley outside the cockpit, his tone violent. I clumsily wiped my mouth, lowered my head, and stumbled out. The moment I closed the cabin door, I heard him tell Tiffany inside, “Don’t let me see such filthy things again.” 0

Crystal POV Hiding in the narrow galley, I leaned against the cold metal cabinet door, gasping for breath. My hands were still trembling. My stomach was churning; the after-effects of half a bottle of red wine were kicking in. I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to keep myself sober. Crystal, you can’t cry. If you cry, you lose. When you walked away with fifty million, you should have known this day would come. That fifty million? I didn’t spend a single cent on myself. It all went into that bottomless pit. But I couldn’t say anything. If I did, Damian, that lunatic, would tear his whole family apart. Back then, he was on the precipice of securing control of his family’s empire; any wrong move would shatter him. So, I had to be the bad guy. I had to be the vain, mercenary, and treacherous woman. Just then, the intercom in the galley rang. I jumped, hesitated, but picked it up. “Crystal, Damian wants you back in.” It was Tiffany’s voice, tinged with schadenfreude. “He said you haven’t finished your ‘special services’.” I closed my eyes, then opened them, and hung up. I straightened my disheveled uniform and forced a standard professional smile into the mirror. Whether he wanted to hit me or curse me, I had to take it. As long as he paid. 0

Crystal POV Pushing open the cabin door, Tiffany was no longer in her seat. The entire passenger cabin held only Damian. He had unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, revealing his sculpted collarbone, and held an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Seeing me enter, he tilted his chin, signaling me to approach. “Where’s Tiffany?” I asked instinctively. “She went to sleep.” He impatiently tossed the cigarette onto the table. “Come here, take off my shoes.” I walked over and knelt at his feet. This seemed to be my standard posture when facing him. I reached out to untie his leather shoes. His feet were large. In winter, I used to love tucking my cold feet into his embrace for warmth. Now, my hand had barely touched his ankle when he kicked it away. The force wasn’t great, but the humiliation was extreme. “Why are your hands so rough?” He frowned, his gaze falling on my hands, covered in small cuts. Those were from recently washing dishes for a part-time job. “You never used to do menial tasks, did you?” “What, did that billionaire go bankrupt? Can’t even afford a housekeeper, making you do the work yourself?” The “billionaire” he referred to was a sugar daddy I’d made up. To make him give up on me, I’d told him I was with a billionaire ten times richer than him. I lowered my head, continued untying his shoelaces, my voice steady. “People have to live, Damian.” “Live?” He scoffed, then suddenly bent down and grabbed my wrist, pulling me up. His excessively handsome face was close to mine, his breath fanning my face. “Crystal, when you took that fifty million, didn’t you say you were going to live a good life?” “Is this the ‘good life’ you chose? Being a flight attendant, serving drinks, kneeling to clean pants?” His eyes held a deep, ingrained hatred. “Yes.” I met his gaze, smiling carelessly. “The money ran out, so I had to come out and earn more.” “If Damian feels sorry for me, why not write me another check?” At that, the fury in Damian’s eyes exploded. He violently flung my hand away, with such force that I slammed against the cabin wall. “Dream on.” He pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it directly in my face. Green bills fluttered down, hitting me, then scattering across the carpet. “That’s your tip from before.” “Pick it up.” He pointed to the money on the floor, his eyes dark and menacing. “Pick up every single bill.” “When you’re done, go to that room and clean yourself up.” “Tonight, I’m going to ‘inspect the goods’.” 0

Crystal POV I squatted on the floor and began picking up the money. One bill, two bills, three bills… My movements were slow, but deliberate. Each bill I smoothed out, folded neatly, and placed in my inner pocket. This money would buy my brother two more days in the ICU. Damian stood nearby, looking down at me. I guessed he wanted to see me break down, see me crying and begging, or perhaps throw the money back in his face, like I used to. Unfortunately, the Crystal of today had only knees, no spine. After picking up the last bill, I stood up and bowed to him. “Thank you for the reward, Damian.” With that, I turned and walked towards the room he indicated – the only luxurious suite on this plane. Closing the door, I leaned against the doorframe, and my body finally began to tremble uncontrollably. “Inspect the goods.” Was he trying to humiliate me, or did he genuinely want… I dared not think deeper. The phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated. It was a text message from the hospital. “Crystal, your brother’s account balance is less than two thousand. Please renew the payment as soon as possible, or some life-sustaining equipment will be disconnected.” Two thousand. Not even enough for one day’s expenses. I clutched the phone, my knuckles white. That small tip was just a drop in the ocean. I had to get more. If one night with him could buy my brother’s life-saving money, then so be it. After all, this body used to be his too. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Hot water poured over me, but it couldn’t wash away the bone-deep chill. After showering, I emerged wrapped in a bathrobe. Damian hadn’t come in yet. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking out at the clouds. It was pitch black, nothing to see, just like my future. I don’t know how much time passed, but the doorknob turned. Damian walked in. He had taken off his suit jacket, wearing only a black shirt, collar open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He held a glass of wine, carrying the faint scent of tobacco. He hadn’t turned on the main lights, leaving only a dim bedside lamp. The light and shadow cast on his face made his features appear even more defined and sharp. “Cleaned up?” He walked to the bed, placed the wine glass on the nightstand. His gaze swept over me. That look wasn’t like someone looking at a woman; it was like someone looking at an item for sale, waiting for its price. I nodded, then actively untied the sash of my bathrobe. If I was selling, I had to embrace the role. The bathrobe slipped, revealing a silk slip dress underneath. Damian’s pupils contracted sharply. I guessed he remembered; this slip dress, he had given it to me three years ago. I’d kept it, and today, on a whim, I’d worn it underneath. “This dress…” He reached out, his fingertips touching my collarbone, so cold it made me shiver. “Still wearing it?” “Because it’s cheap and durable.” I lied. “Is that so?” He scoffed, his palm sliding down my waistline, finally stopping at my lower back, pulling me abruptly closer. I was forced to press against him. “Crystal, is that billionaire tired of this body of yours yet?” “I heard rich men like to play kinky games; he didn’t break you, did he?” His words were crass and piercing. I bit my lip, forcing a seductive smile, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Damian wants to try, doesn’t he?” “As long as the money is right, I’ll do any position.” The words had barely left my lips when I felt his muscles tense. The next second, as if he’d touched something foul, he violently pushed me away. I fell onto the bed, a little dazed. “Disgusting.” He spat the word through clenched teeth. “You think you’re worthy of my touch?” He turned, picked up the wad of money I’d just collected, and flung it onto the bed. “Take your money and go sleep on the couch.” “Don’t soil my bed.” 0

Crystal POV I hugged the blanket, curled up on the couch in the outer room. The inner room door was tightly shut. That night, I slept restlessly. My dreams were filled with old memories of Damian and me. Back then, he was still a rebellious rich kid. To pursue me, he’d once arranged 999 roses beneath my apartment, getting chased by security guards. Later, when his family faced trouble, his father became critically ill, and there was internal strife within the family for control. He was pushed to the brink, almost facing prison. That evidence of money laundering? I had forged it myself, and I had personally handed it to Marcus, his sworn enemy. Everyone thought I had betrayed him. Only I knew that if that evidence wasn’t handed over, the true black ledger would be exposed. Damian would not only lose everything but also face massive debts and prison time. And Marcus had promised me that if I did this, he would spare Damian’s life and give me money to save my brother. I had no choice. I had to be the bad guy. I had to be the greedy, treacherous woman. When the plane landed, it was early morning in London.Misty, cold, and damp. I packed my things, ready to disembark and leave. This trip was over. It was time for me to get out. Just as I reached the cabin door, the pilot stopped me. “Crystal, please wait.” The pilot looked serious, handing me a document. “What’s this?” I had a bad feeling. “This is your new contract,” the pilot explained. “The management company for this aircraft was acquired by Damian’s company yesterday. Damian specifically requested you as his personal flight attendant and butler.” I glanced at the contract. Term: Lifelong. Penalty for breach: Ten million. It was practically an indentured servitude contract. “I won’t sign it.” I pushed the contract back. “I’m resigning.” “You can resign.” Damian’s cold voice came from behind me. He descended the air stairs, coat on, followed by the ever-present Tiffany. “You can resign, but first, pay the ten million breach penalty.” He walked up to me, looking down. “Can’t afford it?Then behave yourself.” “From today, you are Damian’s dog.” “Bite whoever I tell you to, and when I tell you to kneel, you don’t stand.” Tiffany chuckled, covering her mouth. “Damian, you’re too mean! How can you say that about Crystal? She’s your old flame, after all.” “You think you’re worthy of mentioning the word ‘flame’?” Damian shot her a cold glance, scaring Tiffany into immediate silence. He turned back to me, his eyes glinting with a perverse playfulness. “Get in the car, Crystal.” I didn’t know where he was taking me, but the look in his eyes triggered a primal fear in me.

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In my fifth year in prison, my mother visited for the first time. She was a nationally renowned lawyer and the key witness whose testimony put me here. We picked up the phones on either side of the thick glass. Her eyes were red when she asked how I had been all these years. I told her I was fine. Just before the visit ended, she said, “Aubrey, I bought a house in Havenwood. You will be out in three days. We can start over.” I smiled but said nothing. We could not start over. She did not know that to end the suffering of my cellmate Brenda, who had late stage cancer, I helped her die. For that, I was sentenced to death. My execution date was in three days. A cold draft seeped in through the cracks in the iron window. Only the static hum of the phone line filled the visitation room. Mom took a stack of documents from her bag and pressed them against the glass. “Aubrey Hayes, this is the deed. It’s in your name.” “And this is a letter of recommendation for the art school you always wanted. I’ve arranged everything.” Mom pointed at the documents, then instinctively looked toward me. “After you’re released, go abroad for a while. Let things settle. Come back when people have forgotten…” I nodded, offering a few polite, dismissive words. Seeing the visitation time was nearly over, I hung up and stood to leave. As I rose, my mother suddenly slapped her palm against the glass, agitated. “Aubrey, are you still mad at me?” “No need.” I took a few steps back, keeping my distance. My voice was calm. “Ms. Hayes, please mind your image.” “I wouldn’t want your colleagues to misunderstand.” As I turned to leave, she seemed to call out something. The soundproofing was too good-I didn’t hear it clearly. Only my prison uniform was soaked with cold sweat, sticky and uncomfortable. I casually rolled up my damp sleeve. In the dim light, the old scars from where I’d cut my wrists years ago became visible. I paused, then remembered. Today marked my fifth year in prison. Seeing Mom, there was no hatred as I’d imagined, none of the hysteria from when I was first locked up. I was calm, as if looking at a stranger. Back in the cell block, the guard had already opened the iron door. I pulled down my sleeve and walked towards my bunk. Brenda, the woman on the bottom bunk, a convicted murderer, gave me a complex smile. “Hey kid, you’re back? I’ve sorted out all your stuff for you.” “Take a look, see if there’s anything you want to keep. Anything you don’t need, just toss it. Might as well leave cleanly.” I opened the box. The first thing I saw was a fountain pen Mom had given me before I was incarcerated. It had a few words engraved on it: “To my beloved daughter, Aubrey Hayes.” Brenda suddenly became interested. She leaned over and said, “Oh, your mom gave you this? Looks expensive. She must have really doted on you back then.” She eagerly looked at the engraving on the pen. After seeing the familiar signature, she froze, her voice trembling slightly. “Victoria Hayes?” “Is that the ‘Iron Lady’ of the legal world?” “The top attorney who never lost a case, who sent countless powerful figures to prison?!” Brenda’s gaze shifted to me, filled with shock and bewilderment. “Aubrey, your mom’s so incredible, how on earth did you end up in here?” I tossed the pen into the trash, my voice flat. “Because I’m her daughter.” The daughter she personally fabricated testimony against and sent to prison to avoid any hint of impropriety.

Brenda kept pressing me for answers. I sat on the cold floor and began to tell her Mom’s story and mine. In the beginning, Mom wasn’t the legal legend she later became. She was just a struggling single mom with a child, an intern pouring tea and running errands at a law firm. No connections, no husband. The man who abandoned us had thrown us out of the house like trash. The winter in the north was bone-chilling. Mom, dressed in a thin business suit, huddled on the cold streets, shivering, holding me close. I knew Mom was starving, so I bravely begged for a piece of bread and shoved it into her mouth. In that desperate situation, Mom unleashed an astonishing will to survive. From then on, Mom was reborn. She won an industry award at thirty, became a law firm partner at thirty-five. By forty, cases she handled were making national headlines, and she collected accolades effortlessly. That man who’d kicked us out years ago knelt, begging for her to take him back. But she stood before him, coldly handing him a lawsuit. “I know exactly who treated me well and who kicked me when I was down.” “From this day forward, Aubrey and I, we have nothing to do with you.” “I will give Aubrey the best life, and no one will ever bully her.” From then on, Mom soared to new heights, yet she never thought of leaving me behind. No matter how busy she was, she always made time for me every day. When it was time for college, she turned down multi-million dollar cases to help me study. When I was looking for a job after graduation, she pulled every string she had to pave the way for me. I worried I might become a burden to Mom. But she looked at me and said, “Aubrey, that year in the snow, if it wasn’t for that half-eaten bread you gave me, I wouldn’t have made it.” “From that moment, I swore I’d make sure you lived a life of utmost comfort and opportunity.” “Aubrey, you are my life; no matter how high I fly, you are my only weakness.” She was that kind of person: extremely principled. Once she decided on something, she saw it through to the end. It was true when she was fighting a case. It was true when she was raising me. And it was true even when she sacrificed her own kin for the sake of ‘justice.’ “Sacrificed her kin?” Hearing this, Brenda’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You two relied on each other, such a deep bond, and she still sent you to jail?” “What kind of huge crime did you commit? Murder? Arson?” “Was it like on TV, where you became some big drug lord?” None of that. My crime was aggravated assault. By the time I was twenty-two, Mom was an unshakable authority in the legal world. She was no longer content with commercial victories. She began to dedicate more of her energy to what she called “social justice.” She didn’t care for money, nor power. Instead, she pursued fame with an almost obsessive fervor. Whether they were wealthy elites or high-ranking officials, if they broke the law, Mom took them all on, sending them straight to prison. What she was most proud of was her reputation for never showing favoritism or bending the law. “That impartiality is what put me at the top of my profession.” “The law is equal for everyone, and even my own family must face consequences if they break it.” “There’s no room for compromise in that process.” She said she loved the law. And she loved the thrill of holding people’s fates in her hands even more. In the realm of the courtroom, she was the goddess who controlled everything. Guilty or innocent, life or death – it was all up to her. I didn’t understand Mom’s grand philosophies. Then, one day, Liam Miller, a student Mom was sponsoring, suddenly looked up. “You’re right, I admire that spirit too.” “Justice knows no bias, it only demands a clear conscience.” “Look how well I did in the mock trial today; it’s all thanks to your excellent guidance.” On a stifling summer day, buzzing with unseen activity, my fate began to change.

After that, Mom often brought Liam home. She tutored him, held mock debates. The villa we lived in practically became Liam’s second home. Their relationship grew closer, almost like mother and son. Until one day, Mom suddenly suggested adopting him, asking him to move in with us. “His family is poor, and his dorm at school is terrible. Let him stay here.” Liam nervously rubbed his cheap pen. A forced, ingratiating grin spread across his face. “I’ll be very quiet.” “My grades are good, I’ll definitely repay Ms. Hayes for her kindness.” “Just give me a chance, and I’ll dedicate my life to repaying your kindness!” Looking at those seemingly sincere eyes, I suddenly remembered. Years ago, Mom huddled under a bridge with me, looking helpless and desperate. Once again, my heart softened. For a long time, I treated Liam like a younger brother. I cooked for him, bought him books. I taught him the ropes of city living. He told me I was the kindest sister in the world. He said that when he became a successful lawyer, he would protect me forever. And he didn’t disappoint Mom’s expectations. He successfully scored high on the bar exam. And on the celebratory, stormy night that followed, he violated me. Mom was away on a business trip that day, so I bought some food and drinks to celebrate with Liam. I drank until midnight, then collapsed, dizzy, on the sofa. When I woke up, I saw Liam’s twisted face above mine. My body was tearing apart with excruciating pain. In that moment, I completely broke down. I struggled desperately, grabbing the ashtray from the table and smashing it against his head. I hurled all the food and drinks from the table, shattering everything. Liam clutched his bleeding forehead, watching my resistance with cold eyes. “Aubrey, stop pretending. Who are you trying to seduce, dressed like that?” Between me and my innocence, he chose to destroy me without hesitation. Unable to bear any of it, I called the police and cried to Mom on the phone. She rushed back that night, frowning at my disheveled state. “Aubrey, don’t make a scene. This getting out would be bad for your reputation.” Liam also fell to his knees before Mom. “I know I wronged Aubrey, but I was drunk.” “She was the one who started touching me, and I just lost control.” “You’re the best lawyer!” “I have a bright future ahead of me. It can’t be ruined over something so trivial. Just help me this one time, and I’ll be like your own son!” I was only in my early twenties then. An age when I still believed in justice, and believed my mother would ensure I got it. I filed a lawsuit with the court. I wanted to send that monster in human skin to prison. But reality quickly taught me a harsh lesson. Mom, to uphold her image of impartiality, chose to testify as a witness for Liam, against me. In court, Mom stood in the witness box, dressed in her lawyer’s robe, her face expressionless. “This is my daughter. She generally has a very chaotic private life.” “I hope the jury will look at the facts objectively.” “Liam is an honest, decent young man. That night, to my knowledge, Aubrey Hayes was the one who invited him to drink.” “I don’t deny Liam was in the wrong, but in my eyes, this was a tragedy caused by seduction. Aubrey Hayes not only failed to reflect on her actions, but she also severely injured Liam.” Mom even revealed in court that I had expressed interest in Liam on more than one occasion. She knew saying that would hurt me. But she didn’t care. She only wanted to maintain her saint-like image in this high-profile case, even if it meant sacrificing her own daughter. And what about me? What was I? I sat in the plaintiff’s box, weeping in disbelief. My ears buzzed with the contemptuous whispers from the public gallery. 4 Mom continued to organize her case files. “Aubrey Hayes, don’t you understand yet?” “The law is about evidence. The fact that you gave Liam a concussion is undeniable.” “To ruin a young man’s future over this-you’re being selfish.” “I told you, I am your mother, but first and foremost, I am a legal professional.” No. I couldn’t bear it, the mother who I’d relied on my entire life. Her mind was, at every moment, focused on protecting her pristine professional image. I started screaming in court, becoming hysterical. I almost frantically accused the woman who gave birth to me and raised me. During recess, I rushed up to demand why. When the verdict came down, I lunged forward, wanting to tear apart Liam’s smug face. I wrote countless statements. I shed endless tears. But all I got in return was a judgment. Mom was too clever. She used legal loopholes to turn rape into a mutual fight, and self-defense into aggravated assault. Her expertise, her status, her understanding of the law. They allowed her to twist the truth, making black look white, with terrifying ease. In the end, Liam was released on the spot due to “insufficient evidence.” And I, for severely injuring another person, was personally sent to prison by Mom, sentenced to five years. I spoke calmly, but Brenda’s eyes were red. She bit her lip and asked, “What happened after that?” After that, I met Brenda, my cellmate who had late-stage cancer. She was the one who taught me that sometimes, death requires more courage than living. We had promised each other that when we were released, we would live together. But fate had other plans for me. Just a few days ago, Brenda was confirmed to have terminal cancer. In immense pain, she begged me to end her suffering. After some hesitation, I granted her wish. Three days passed quickly. On the morning of the execution, a light rain fell over Havenwood. I changed into a clean prison uniform. Brenda stood clutching the cell bars, weeping like a lost child. I smiled at her, my tone as casual as if we were parting after a chat. “Go back inside. Don’t worry about me.” When I walked out through the main gate, a familiar black car was parked across the street. It was Mom’s car. The door opened, and she stepped out, holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

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To save me, my twenty-five-year-old husband was thrown from a tall building by his assailants. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was chillingly distant from me. He claimed he was from ten years in the future, back to set everything right. He said that at thirty-five, he would cheat on me with another woman, three years into our marriage. He said we’d grown to despise each other long ago, but were bound together for ten years because of our child. He said he and Ashley also had a child. And his first demand upon returning to his twenty-five-year-old self was for me to abort our unborn twins and divorce him. The very next morning, Liam discharged himself and brought Ashley home. I was rushed back by his parents, only to find him holding Ashley’s hand, declaring, “Ashley is my true love. She’s the only one who truly understands me, the one I’m meant to spend my life with. I have to marry her!” “As for Chloe, I owe her. I’ll compensate her after the divorce.” His parents were livid, their faces crimson with rage, sputtering that he had lost his mind. The man who had always loved me, now so utterly devoted to another woman. I looked at him, a bitter ache twisting in my gut. “Liam, were you serious about what you said last night?” He’d been in a coma for almost a month. But when he opened his eyes, he was a different man, claiming to be Liam from ten years in the future. I thought he was disoriented, rambling nonsense because of amnesia. I hadn’t believed him. But now, he was unwavering. Liam’s gaze was as chilling as last night’s. No love, no tenderness—just cold, hard indifference. “Chloe, how many times do I have to say it? I didn’t lose my memory. I remember everything. But I genuinely don’t love you anymore!” Seeing the disgust in his eyes, my heart clenched with a sharp pain. “But we only got married three months ago! You swore you’d only ever love me…” Liam frowned. Before he could speak, Ashley started crying. “Chloe, I know your family is wealthier than mine, and you’re the more suitable match for Liam. But he loves me now. Please, just let us be together!” I suddenly remembered what Liam had told me last night. He said he’d met Ashley three years in the future, when he was on duty. He later learned that due to her impoverished background, she was exploited by wealthy men and ended up working in a club. His concern and pity for her after that incident eventually led to them falling in love. But by then, I had already given birth to Liam’s child. That’s why our parents always refused to let us divorce. So Liam and I were stuck together for ten years. Eventually, Ashley, unable to cope, took her own life and her child’s, jumping from the eighteenth floor. He was back now to fix things before any of that could happen. So he’d found Ashley ahead of time. I sympathized with Ashley’s past, but I couldn’t bring myself to like her. Liam, however, gently helped her up, his eyes full of tenderness, and warned his parents. “Mom, Dad, if you still don’t agree, I’ll quit my job and end my life!” He was using his life as leverage. His parents had no choice but to agree. Liam immediately left with Ashley, intending to propose at her home. After they left, Liam’s parents unleashed all their anger on me. They demanded to know why Liam had changed so drastically after waking up, why his heart had turned after only three months of marriage. I couldn’t answer. How could I tell them… The Liam who walked with me from campus to the altar was gone. Inside his body was the soul of his thirty-five-year-old self. And the thirty-five-year-old Liam didn’t love me. I stumbled out of the house. The biting cold wind of early winter hit my face, yet none of this felt real. How could Liam not love me? When we were eighteen, we went to the same university. After an art competition, he found me, his cheeks flushed, and asked for my number. I looked at his handsome profile, my own ears instantly burning red. He said then, “The moment I saw you, my heart went wild.” He said, “I want to be with you forever.” We started dating when we were twenty, traveling to countless cities. In every city, he would propose to me. He said then that he’d propose to me every year until I was a hundred, until I finally said yes. When I was twenty-four, I was freezing to death on a snowy mountain. He piled all his clothes on me. When the rescue team found us, he was barely clinging to life, but still held me tight. Later, I finally said yes to his proposal. He was so happy he spun me around more than a dozen times. The next day, he flew to the States to meet my parents, and at our wedding, he promised to love only me for the rest of his life. Even when we fell from the building together, he held me close, saying, “Chloe, if there’s a next life, let’s be together then too.” I was unharmed, but he suffered multiple fractures. I swore that when he woke up, I’d spend the rest of my life repaying his profound love. But I never imagined that Liam would one day say he didn’t love me! I wiped away my tears and started walking towards Ashley’s house. I refuse to believe that Liam, who loved me so much, would cheat on me. I’ll make the thirty-five-year-old Liam go back to his own body!

As soon as I reached their yard, I heard intimate sounds coming from inside the house. “…Liam, slow down… Mmm, that feels amazing…” The door was ajar, and I pushed it open instantly. Liam was holding Ashley, one hand kneading her chest, the other pressing the back of her head as he kissed her deeply. My pupils constricted. “Liam, what are you doing?!” I couldn’t believe a man with such self-control could lose himself to desire like this. Was this man, standing before me, truly the Liam I’d been in love with for seven years? Hearing my voice, Liam immediately reined in his look of desire, turning his head coldly. “What I do has nothing to do with you. Get out!” I bit back the pain in my heart, forcing myself to meet his familiar yet icy eyes. “This is my husband’s body! We’re not divorced yet!” Liam scoffed. “Your husband is me, isn’t he?” But I stubbornly shook my head. “You’re not him. Give him back to me!” He finally released a flushed Ashley, murmuring a few soft words in her ear, then roughly grabbed my arm and dragged me out. I never imagined Liam, who had always treated me with such tenderness, wanting to hold me in the palm of his hand, would ever treat me like this. Even the thirty-five-year-old him wouldn’t be this cruel! Outside, before he could speak, I asked him, “Tell me, what do I need to do to make you return to your own body?” “If you’re worried about Ashley, I can give her a large sum of money to send her abroad…” Liam was unmoved. “I came back to marry her. I want to be with Ashley forever.” Forever… He’d just used that word in our wedding vows three months ago. And the person he’d sworn it to was me. A sudden, sharp pain made it almost impossible to breathe. Then I remembered the crucifix he had specially sought out for me before our wedding. “You’re not Liam…” “Liam even swore an oath at a famous church, promising to love only me, always and forever!” “Please, I’m begging you. Just bring my husband back, and I’ll agree to anything you ask…” Liam’s expression seemed to falter for a split second, but the next moment, his tone grew even more brutal. “Chloe, I hate it when you look like this! Don’t you know how pathetic you look when you cry?” “You don’t seriously think that if the twenty-five-year-old Liam returned, he’d love you forever, do you?” “Everything I told you before is true. Three years from now, I will fall madly in love with Ashley.” “I am the Liam from the future. You’re just finding out the ending of this marriage ahead of time!” “Cutting our losses now is better for both of us.” His words left me speechless. Deep down, I understood that if he truly was the Liam from ten years in the future, then my persistence right now was pointless. But I preferred to believe that he was merely possessed by someone claiming to be Liam. I took a deep breath. “If you can convince the twenty-five-year-old Liam himself to tell me he doesn’t love me, then I’ll leave willingly. Otherwise, forget it!” Liam stared at me for a moment, then twisted his lips into a mocking smile. “Dream on.” He pulled out divorce papers and forcibly thrust them into my hand. “Sign the papers if you know what’s good for you. Otherwise, I’m happy to drag this through a messy divorce court!”

Liam didn’t come back to our home that night. I tossed and turned for hours before finally drifting into a restless sleep. In my dream, I vaguely remembered Madame Zelda’s words from back then. Liam had asked Madame Zelda to read our love line with Tarot cards, but she shook her head, a knowing look in her eyes: “Your love line… I cannot read it for you.” I didn’t care much for these things, but Liam was adamant. Eventually, Madame Zelda said that if he was truly sincere, he first had to go to a remote chapel and retrieve a crucifix, proving his true feelings for me. Then she would reconsider. That chapel was very far from us, with no public transportation. You had to drive, and it was a ten-hour journey. I felt bad for him and convinced Liam to drop it that day. After all, true love lives in the everyday. I had eyes; I saw his love. I didn’t need this to prove it. But the next evening, a battered and exhausted Liam, his eyes sparkling, held up a crucifix. “Honey! I did it!” I just had to laugh at his foolishness. When I woke up, I lay still for a long time, then immediately went to find Madame Zelda. I needed to ask if she had foreseen something back then, and if there was a solution to my current situation. Madame Zelda asked me, “Why didn’t you leave him sooner?” I was about to protest, but she drew my gaze to another part of the room. One look, and a wave of anger washed over me. Liam was embracing Ashley, coming to the fortune teller together. I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat, convincing myself I was here to seek guidance. Madame Zelda looked at my pale face, sighed, and handed me a Tarot card. “Take this home, tape it above your bed, and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, you’ll have your answer.” I followed Madame Zelda’s instructions, taping the card to my headboard. After that, I had a very long, vivid dream. I dreamed I was seven months pregnant, going for a prenatal check-up. On the way home, Liam received an emergency call from the precinct, leaving me to go home alone. On my way back, I got into a car accident and went into premature labor, losing one of the twins. Liam held the deceased baby, his eyes red-rimmed, demanding why I hadn’t been more careful. I, too, was heartbroken over the loss of our child. That incident became a wedge between us. Later, our surviving daughter was diagnosed with autism at three years old. Liam’s assignments at the precinct grew more frequent, and he came home less and less. I became a shadow of my former self. I’d secretly check his phone, drop by the station unannounced when he worked late, and tell our daughter, “Daddy doesn’t want us anymore.” Almost every time he came home, we’d have a huge fight. “If you hadn’t given birth to her, we wouldn’t be living in such misery!” In the dream, Liam slammed the door and left. A month later, I found a movie ticket stub in the pocket of his police uniform, which he’d left for the laundry. It was for a couple’s row. I stared at the ticket stub, my eyes welling up. That night, he had told me he’d been at the station all night interrogating a suspect. Later, similar incidents piled up. The scent of perfume clinging to his clothes, the accidental lipstick stain on his collar, and that unlabeled but frequently called number on his phone. I watched, scene by scene, as things became irrevocably broken. Ashley gave birth to a son, healthy and remarkably bright. On our daughter’s fifth birthday, he promised to take her to an amusement park but broke the promise because he had to take Ashley’s son to the hospital. Our daughter cried, asking, “Mommy, does Daddy not like us at all?” We hated the sight of each other, but stayed together for our child. Finally, the scene froze on Ashley standing at the edge of a rooftop with her son. She smiled at a frantic Liam, saying, “Liam, next life, I hope I meet you sooner.” Then she jumped. And Liam, eyes bloodshot and sharp as knives, glared at me. “Chloe, are you happy now?” I jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. I touched my still-flat stomach, my mind a chaotic mess. Before seeing the future with my own eyes, I’d always thought, how could our relationship ever reach that point? But after witnessing, firsthand, how Liam’s and my marriage gradually decayed… I closed my eyes. As he wished, I signed the divorce papers.

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My wife personally butchered my million-dollar racehorse to make a meal for her intern. That male intern, Leo Dubois, was devouring the exotic dish with gusto, not forgetting to post a video bragging about it. “Huge thanks to my amazing boss! Just tasted a champion racehorse delicacy. Absolutely delicious~” In the background, Scarlett Hayes’s voice offered instructions. “The choicest cuts are the most tender. It’s best if you carve them out just before the horse is completely gone…” My hands trembled with rage. I immediately shot Scarlett a message. “Get Leo to kneel before me in an hour, or face the consequences.” Scarlett didn’t reply. As the countdown ended, a hundred police officers stormed into the banquet hall. Leo, still with grease on his lips, was slammed onto the kitchen counter by a cop. “Alex Thorne! How dare you call the police?!” Scarlett kicked open the door. A bloody horse’s head landed at my feet, instantly soaking my pants. Blaze’s eyes were cloudy, yet still stared at me with an unseeing accusation. “It’s just a horse? Here, I’ll give it back!” I curved my lips into a cruel smile, my eyes icy. “Then what if I chop your little plaything into pieces and give him back to you? Would that be alright?” “Leo is just a recent grad!” Scarlett’s pupils constricted, and she pointed a furious finger at my nose. “For a stupid horse, you ruined his life with a criminal record, and now you want to destroy him completely?” “Alex, how can you be so vicious?!” Three years married, and we’d never once had a real fight. Now, she was calling me vicious, for a complete stranger. My gaze sharpened. I stared at her, enunciating each word. “Section 275 of the Criminal Code: intentional destruction of property exceeding half a million dollars…” “Scarlett, you’re a lawyer, you know this statute better than anyone, don’t you?” Scarlett flinched, then suddenly grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it at me. I dodged, and the wedding photo I’d spent three months painting was smashed, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. “There are hundreds of other horses in your stable! What’s wrong with letting Leo try something new?!” As she mentioned him, a flicker of pained anger colored her eyes. “He’s a French international student, left home for four years, all he wanted was to taste a truly authentic horse meat dish!” “As his boss, is it wrong for me to just want to take care of him a little more?” I scoffed, “Take care of him?” “Thousands of international students come here every year. Why does your generosity only apply to him?” “Anyone who didn’t know better would think you two have been sleeping together behind my back…” Scarlett’s lips trembled, and it took her a long moment to force out a reply through gritted teeth. “Alex, you’re absolutely impossible!” I sneered, opening Leo’s social media and thrusting it in front of her. “Last year on my birthday, you lied and said you were on a business trip. And what really happened?” “You splurged millions, booking a five-star hotel to celebrate Leo’s dog’s birthday!” Scarlett’s furious expression instantly dissolved into guilt. “That was our dog, the one we adopted together. It was his first birthday, I couldn’t possibly miss it…” “Are you really jealous of a dog? Is that necessary?” Her absurd logic left me speechless. I swiped to the next post. “A kiss from Scarlett makes the boo-boo disappear!” The accompanying photo showed Scarlett carefully applying ointment to a tiny cut on his fingertip, by his hospital bed. “He got a little scratch from a rose, and you stayed up two days and two nights to care for him.” “I was in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer after covering for you at that client event, and you just said you were ‘busy with work,’ then gave me a bowl of oatmeal and dismissed me.” “Scarlett, do you even remember who your husband is?” She bit her lip, stubbornly trying to defend herself. “So many people are trying to suck up to you, do you really need my little bit of attention? Unlike Leo, he’s all alone in this country, with no one but me to count on…” Listening to her blatant favoritism, my heart turned to ice, inch by agonizing inch. Seeing my silence, she stepped forward, tugging at my sleeve, her tone softening slightly. “Alex, please, let go of this thing with Leo.” “Absolutely not!” I coldly shook her off. “Either he rots in jail, or he pays up and gets out of the country. If I find out you’re secretly helping him get away, then we’re getting a divorce.” Her face went pale, and she retreated a step, disbelief in her eyes. “For this little thing, you’re threatening me with divorce?” “It’s not a threat. It’s a notification.” With that, I ignored her hysterical outburst, picked up the horse’s head at my feet, and walked out.

I buried Blaze in the backyard. It was past midnight when I finished. My phone suddenly flashed a red alert: “Anomalous unlock at Thorne Estate.” Thorne Estate was Scarlett’s and my wedding home, located far out in the suburbs. We rarely went there except for holidays. I clicked on the villa’s security camera footage, puzzled. In an instant, my blood ran cold. In the master bedroom, Leo, who should have been in jail, was sprawled casually in my private bathtub. Scarlett was half-kneeling by the tub, gently massaging his feet. She was a notorious germaphobe; normally, I had to peel her shrimp and remove the veins before she’d even reluctantly eat a couple. Now, she was not only kneeling for love but cradling his smelly feet. Watching the two of them, so sweet and intimate on screen, my heart twisted in excruciating pain. Scarlett and I were college sweethearts. We dated for seven years, married for three. Back then, she was a struggling law student. I funded her master’s and doctorate, and sent her abroad for a prestigious degree. Later, I even helped her establish her law firm, paving her way to become one of the most renowned legal figures. At our wedding, she solemnly vowed, “I, Scarlett, will only love Alex my entire life.” “Through life and death, I will never leave him, until death do us part!” Everyone praised us as the perfect couple, and I truly believed our love was unshakeable. But now, she was repeatedly crossing the line for an intern. Unable to bear it any longer, I screenshot the security footage and immediately posted it on Hayes Legal’s official website. “My wife didn’t come home last night. She brought her intern straight to our bed. Is this right?” It caused an instant uproar. “Scarlett is ruthless at work, but behind the scenes, she’s such a player?” “No wonder he’s so good at mooching off rich women…” Within five minutes, Scarlett’s calls started bombing my phone, one after another. I dragged her straight into my blacklist. Before dawn, Scarlett was dragged by her parents and made to kneel before me. “You disgrace! You’ve shamed our entire Hayes family!” Mr. Hayes was panting with rage. Mrs. Hayes, ignoring her usual indulgence of her daughter, hit Scarlett for the first time. “Apologize to Alex, now!” Scarlett’s face quickly swelled, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to admit she was wrong. “Alex, you’re utterly despicable!” “To force me to compromise, you dared to spread malicious rumors about Leo and me?!” “Believe it or not, I’ll sue you until you’re bankrupt!” I lifted my gaze, my eyes sweeping lightly over the family. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes’s faces paled, and they trembled uncontrollably. Years of association had taught them my nature. Those who cross me end up either ruined financially or physically. Mr. Hayes immediately rushed forward, forcing Scarlett’s head down, slamming it against the floor. “You insolent child! Hurry up and apologize!” “I did nothing wrong! I won’t apologize!” Scarlett roared, pushing her father away, defiantly glaring at me. “Alex, I’ll die before I apologize!” I knew what she was gambling on. Gambling that I still loved her, gambling that I’d be the first to back down, just like in every other argument. “A marriage falling apart isn’t quite reason enough for death.” I sneered, twisting off my wedding ring from my ring finger, and threw it, along with the divorce papers on the table, at her face. “Just divorce. Sign it.” The ring clinked crisply as it hit the marble floor. Scarlett trembled, her head snapping up. “Alex, are you really doing this?”

I leaned back on the sofa, my expression cold. “Sign it.” “I won’t sign!” Scarlett’s eyes reddened, her earlier defiance instantly extinguished. “You want a divorce over such a small thing?” “Our ten years together, is it not worth more than a stupid horse?” “I’ll buy you ten more horses, exactly the same, won’t that be enough?” “Please, just don’t divorce me…” She was crying her eyes out, but it no longer stirred a single ounce of pity in me. “Blaze wasn’t just ‘a stupid horse.’ He was family I’d faced life and death with!” “I warned you repeatedly not to touch him.” I had only one hobby in life: racehorses. Blaze had been with me since he was a foal, helping me win countless racing gold medals. A few years ago, I was injured in a landslide at a mountain racetrack. He endured a leg injury, galloping for dozens of miles, carrying me out of that mountain. He wasn’t just my partner; he was my lifesaver. And all of this, I had told Scarlett when we got married, explicitly asking her to take good care of Blaze. But what was the result? She used Blaze’s life to curry favor with that creep. “I’m sorry, Alex…” Scarlett collapsed to the floor, covering her face and crying with regret. “I was wrong… I’ll go to Blaze’s grave tomorrow and apologize to him…” “Please forgive me, please…” Mrs. Hayes also chimed in. “Alex, Scarlett was just confused for a moment, just give her another chance!” “Scarlett loves you the most, she’ll definitely change.” I scoffed, “Will an apology bring Blaze back to life?” “Will it erase everything you’ve done before?” Mr. Hayes quickly interjected, swearing solemnly: “Alex, don’t worry, we won’t let that guy appear in front of you again!” Fearing Scarlett might stubbornly defy, he quickly kicked her. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!” Scarlett came to her senses and clung to me. “I promise I will never see him again!” “Alex, please, don’t divorce me, please?” Looking at her earnest eyes, my resolve wavered. “Scarlett, this is the last time.” Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief, stood on her toes to kiss me, then swiftly contacted Hayes Legal’s HR department. “Immediately fire Leo, and arrange a flight to send him back to France.” Her tone was firm, dealing with Leo without any hesitation. Over the next month, Scarlett truly changed. She came home immediately after work every day, personally cooking and learning my favorite dishes. She exercised with me, took walks, and watched the movies I liked. She even stayed up all night to repair the wedding photo she’d previously smashed. “Alex, do you think I repaired it well enough?” She held up the wedding photo, paint on her nose tip, her eyes tentative. She had carefully patched the canvas, and a circle of lilac flowers, my favorite, now covered the cracks around the repair. Honestly, it was a good job, and very thoughtful. My stubborn heart softened a little more. “Don’t overdo it. Get some rest.” I nodded, putting a piece of ribs into her bowl. Seeing my attitude had completely softened, Scarlett’s eyes reddened with excitement. “Alex, I knew you still cared about me.” I didn’t say anything, just quietly pushed the divorce papers to the bottom of my stack of files.

Life returned to normal. Scarlett and I became the envied couple we once were. Until a message shattered the peace. “Mr. Thorne, there’s a problem.” “The Starry Sky Gallery privately threw out all your mother’s paintings and refused to exhibit them.” I rushed to the gallery. From a distance, I saw dozens of my mother’s artworks haphazardly piled at the entrance. My assistant, Mark, was squatting despondently nearby. He rushed to meet me when he saw me. “The manager said Scarlett gave the Starry Sky Gallery to Leo.” “He explicitly ordered that you are not allowed entry!” I suppressed my anger. “Are you sure?” “Absolutely! The transfer contract has Scarlett’s signature on it.” “He also said… he also said…” My eyes gradually turned cold. “Said what?” Mark’s eyes darted away as he spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper. “He also said… he’s going to turn it into a public restroom…” I clenched my fists, letting my nails dig deep into my flesh. The Starry Sky Gallery was my personal design, built with countless sleepless nights of effort. I spent a billion dollars, embedding tens of thousands of diamonds in the ceiling, to achieve the ideal starry sky effect. And all of this was so I could successfully exhibit my mother’s paintings on the anniversary of her passing. Scarlett had always known all of this… She had even personally accompanied me on a flight to South Africa to pick out the diamonds. Now, with my mother’s memorial day approaching. She not only handed over my life’s work but allowed Leo to walk all over me and mock me… Before I could confront Scarlett, a clumsy accent sounded from behind me. “Mr. Thorne, are you here for Scarlett?” Leo, who should have been deported, was surprisingly standing there. “She’s not here during the day. She’ll only come to spend time with me at night~” “If you have something, I can pass it on for you?” His attitude was respectful, but his eyes held an undeniable smugness and disdain. It was as if he had already bypassed me and become the master of the house. I smiled, though my eyes were devoid of warmth. “Who are you to speak for her?” “I don’t need you to pass messages to my wife.” With that, I ordered my bodyguards to subdue him on the spot. He struggled, immobilized, howling in broken English. “How dare you lay your hands on me?!” “Scarlett finds out, she’ll make sure you pay dearly…” Poor fool didn’t understand that his so-called patron was nothing in my eyes. I let out a cold laugh, then snapped my fingers at my men behind me. “Smash it! Smash it to bits!” At my command, a line of men rushed forward with hammers, fiercely striking the gallery I had personally designed. Leo’s face turned ashen with terror, and he frantically tried to rush forward to stop them. “Stop it! All of you, stop!” “This is a gift from Scarlett! It’s my private property!” “Don’t you believe Scarlett will send all of you to jail?!” “Get lost!” Someone kicked him over. “Scarlett? We only recognize Mr. Thorne!” Seeing the situation spiral out of control, he scrambled to my feet, crawling. “Alex! Tell your people to stop!” “This is your life’s work! Are you really willing to just smash it all?!” I sneered, “You know it’s my life’s work, yet you still dared to occupy it?” “Scarlett gave it to me! She said everything here was mine to do with as I please!” He stammered, his defense weak, sweating profusely. “Quick, tell your men to stop!” “If they smash it any more, it’ll truly be ruined!” I grabbed him by the neck, my eyes completely cold. “I think you still don’t understand me.” “Anything I can’t have, I’ll never let anyone else benefit from it!” My fingers tightened, slowly constricting his breath. Only when he was on the verge of unconsciousness did I violently hurl him to the ground. He lay there, gasping like a dog for a long time. “Alex! You’ll regret this!” “I’m calling Scarlett right now to deal with you…” With that, he quickly dialed Scarlett’s number. “Hello, Sca…” As he opened his mouth, I snatched the phone from him. “Scarlett, you truly are a wonderful wife.” “I received the ‘surprise’ at the Starry Sky Gallery. Thank you so much.” There was a second of silence on the other end, then her voice, laced with guilt. “Alex, you… how did you know?”

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An accident left my face burned and scarred. After that, every mirror disappeared from our home. Thank God my husband Marcus loved me. He’s a plastic surgeon, and he didn’t care that I was ugly now. But one day, I was scrolling through his phone and found a post he’d made on Reddit: “I love my wife, but she was disfigured in a fire and the damage is severe. Every night, I just can’t feel any desire for her. I want to find a beautiful mistress, but I feel so guilty. What should I do?” The top comment read: “Find a woman and give her plastic surgery to look like your wife did before the accident.” The most unbelievable part? My husband replied: “Thanks for the advice!” My mind went blank. I gently locked his phone screen and placed it back on the couch. I didn’t know what that post meant. After my disfigurement, he changed my bandages himself every morning. His fingers were so gentle, like he was afraid I might shatter. The meals he prepared always perfectly matched my taste. He would often hold my hand and say: “Don’t be scared. I promise I’ll design the best surgical plan and make you look like yourself again.” Now, looking at that post, was he planning to abandon me? Just then, Marcus walked out of the bedroom. He hugged me excitedly. “I’m taking you for a checkup tomorrow. Your surgery will start soon.” But I kept my expression calm. Not long ago, you were posting online about finding a replacement. Now you’ve changed your mind? I said flatly: “Plastic surgery is expensive. And there’s no guarantee I’ll look the same. Are you sure you want to do this?” Hearing my defeated tone, Marcus suddenly looked angry. “Elena, what’s wrong with you now?” “Don’t you trust me? I’m one of the best plastic surgeons around. I promise I’ll make you look exactly like you did before.” “Don’t worry about the money. Worst case, we’ll sell our condo and buy something smaller. We can still make it work.” Then I said coldly: “Wouldn’t it be easier to just get a beautiful new wife?” Marcus froze. Then he gripped my wrist tightly, his eyes filled with an almost insane obsession. “No. I don’t want anyone but you.” I wanted to ask him why he made that post. But I swallowed the words. The next day, I went to the hospital for the checkup. I overheard Marcus on the phone, arguing intensely with a woman. “Why aren’t you coming in for the surgery? Do you know how hard it is to get an appointment like this? People wait a year for slots like these.” “I’ve prepared the entire surgical plan. If you don’t show up, I’ll lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. Don’t think I won’t sue you.” The woman on the other end was crying, promising she’d come tomorrow afternoon. Then Marcus’s tone changed, becoming strangely tender. “I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t really sue you.” “I like you too much for that.” Those few words left me frozen. I waited until Marcus hung up before slowly walking out of the examination room. I pretended nothing was wrong. Marcus put his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead, smiling. “How did the checkup go?” He took the report from my hands. Inside, I felt worthless. I’m already this ugly, I thought. How long are you going to keep pretending to love me?

Marcus glanced at the report and smiled. “I’ll schedule everything as soon as possible. Within two weeks, we’ll have the surgery done.” I mumbled agreement and went home, my mind full of doubts. I lay in bed, unable to sleep. Why would Marcus do my surgery if he already had someone else? Maybe he wanted to appease me first, then find an excuse to divorce me later. After all, even the best plastic surgery couldn’t completely restore my beauty. Maybe I should just ask for a divorce. I wouldn’t make a scene. I didn’t want to be anyone’s burden. The next afternoon when Marcus went to work, curiosity drove me to follow him to the hospital. That’s when I saw her. A young woman, laughing and talking with Marcus. I stood there, stunned. The girl’s silhouette looked familiar. I felt like I’d seen her somewhere before, but I couldn’t remember where. She was bold. She wrapped her arms around Marcus and kissed him on the lips. Then he led her inside the hospital. I wanted to follow them, to see what this girl actually looked like. But someone grabbed my arm. I turned around. It was my mother. I froze. “Mom, what are you doing here?” My mother looked anxious and pulled me back. “Honey, come home with me. This isn’t what you think.” Tears filled my eyes. I felt completely betrayed. So my mother knew. She knew Marcus was cheating on me. “Mom, you’ve known about this all along, haven’t you?” My mother nodded and practically dragged me into a car, taking me to my parents’ house. My dad was inside, smoking, his eyes distant. When he saw me, he pulled me to the couch and said: “Your mother went to check on you today and saw you following Marcus. She called me to come home and talk to you.” I sat down on the couch. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror, half my face wrapped in bandages, and I broke down crying. I pointed at my father through my tears. “I’m ugly now, so Marcus doesn’t love me anymore. You both knew he was cheating and you didn’t tell me. Is it because you think I’m worthless now? You think if I get divorced, I’ll just be a burden to you?” I could guess what they were thinking. They didn’t want me to get divorced. With my ruined face, finding someone else wouldn’t be easy. I sobbed: “Are you going to tell me it’s normal for men to fool around?” But my mother waved her hands frantically. “Honey, don’t think like that. Divorcing now wouldn’t help you at all.” “Marcus is a plastic surgeon. You still need him to fix your face. Once the surgery is done, if you really don’t want to stay with him, you can divorce him then. It’s not too late.” My dad exhaled a cloud of smoke and frowned. “Your mother’s right. We’re not trying to hide things from you. We’re thinking about what’s best for you. Be practical. Once your face is fixed, you can kick Marcus to the curb. We won’t stop you.” My anger started to fade. But… would Marcus really perform the surgery on me? Suddenly, I wasn’t sure anymore.

I clearly remembered that Reddit post Marcus made. He’d said his wife was disfigured, that surgery would be expensive with no guarantee of results. Better to find a beautiful woman and give her surgery to look like me instead. My head started spinning. I thought about yesterday, overhearing Marcus on the phone with that woman, talking about surgery. I couldn’t hear my parents’ words anymore. When I got home, I sat alone on the couch for hours, unable to sleep. Marcus came home after midnight. Seeing I was still awake, he hung his coat by the door and walked over, trying to put his arm around my waist. “Why are you still up? Is something bothering you?” I pushed his hand away. I couldn’t hold back anymore. “I’m so ugly now. How can you even stand to touch me?” Marcus looked stunned. He stared into my eyes, trying to read something there. “Don’t think like that. I told you, I’ll make you look exactly like you used to.” He thought I was having a breakdown over my disfigurement. I said again: “You’re still lying to me. What’s the point?” Marcus laughed awkwardly. His eyes shifted away and he stood up from the couch. “I’m not lying. I know you’re upset, but trust me. This month, I’ll do your surgery. I’ll make you look like yourself again.” I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re still lying. How long are you going to keep this up? Why don’t you just find some beautiful woman and make her look like I used to? Find yourself a replacement.” Marcus suddenly went silent. He stared at me without saying a word. To me, his silence was guilt. I pressed him: “Why so quiet now? Isn’t that what you’ve been planning all along?” Marcus grabbed his coat, muttered “You’re crazy,” and walked out the door. But I couldn’t let it go. At dawn, I stationed myself outside the hospital and spotted that woman.

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I’m the real daughter of the Harrison family. At my wedding, I was about to exchange rings with my fiancé Zachary. That’s when Clara—the wife of Zachary’s late brother—burst through the doors, her clothes in complete disarray. “Zachary, help me! Melody’s uncle Shane assaulted me!” “He mocked me for being the adopted daughter and said that since he raised the real daughter of the Harrison family, he’s their benefactor—so I should sleep with him… I can’t live like this anymore!” The guests erupted in chaos. They cursed Shane as a perverted asshole and blamed me for bringing a monster into our family. Zachary immediately took off his suit jacket and draped it over Clara’s shoulders, his face full of concern. Then he turned to me, his eyes cold as ice. “Melody, bring Shane out here!” “He needs to face punishment and cut off his own dick, or this wedding is over!” Looking at the murderous expressions on my parents’ faces and Zachary’s parents, I almost laughed. Because Shane didn’t even have that thing.

My mom rushed onto the stage and slapped me so hard my head snapped to the side. “How dare you smile?!” She was shaking with rage, her fingernails nearly poking into my eyes. “We never should have brought you back from the countryside, you ungrateful wretch!” “Clara is sweet and considerate. And you? The person you brought into our lives is a rapist!” My cheek burned with pain. I licked the metallic taste of blood from the corner of my mouth, my eyes ice-cold. “Mom, have the police arrived? Has a medical examiner verified anything? You’re just going to believe everything Clara says?” “How dare you!” My dad kicked over a nearby flower arrangement. “Would Clara joke about her own innocence? The evidence is clear and you still talk back!” He roared: “Security! Drag that Shane out here! Then in front of everyone in this city, castrate him! Make him apologize to Clara!” Clara’s clothes were torn, her neck covered in intimate red marks. She collapsed into Zachary’s arms, lifting her tear-stained face, her voice weak: “Dad, Mom… don’t blame Melody… Maybe Shane just couldn’t control himself… I don’t blame him, I just blame my terrible fate for taking Melody’s place…” Zachary’s eyes turned bloodshot as he held Clara tighter, as if trying to absorb her into his embrace. “That asshole dared to touch you? I’ll make sure he never uses that thing again!” Zachary turned to me, his eyes filled with disgust. “Melody, you heard her. Even now, Clara is begging for mercy for your Shane!” “A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve to enter the Barrett family!” “You have three minutes. Bring that asshole here. If you let him escape, I’ll send you to prison to atone for what happened to Clara!” The guests below were all cursing me. “So what if she’s the real daughter? Her heart is pure evil.” “Exactly. Enabling a relative to rape a woman—this is a disgrace to high society.” “Mr. Barrett is doing the right thing. Monsters like that should be beaten to death!” I calmly pulled out my phone and stared coldly at Clara. “Clara, are you certain Shane assaulted you?” “It was him! I’ll never let him go, even if it kills me.” Clara glared at me through her tears. “Fine!” I turned to Zachary. “Zachary, you just said you’d castrate Shane, right?” Zachary spoke through gritted teeth: “Yes! I’ll make sure he loses all sexual function!” “Good.” I dialed the number and put it on speaker. “I’ll give you what you want.” The call connected. The massive roar of a motorcycle engine exploded through the speaker system. I spoke into the phone, my voice calm. “Shane, come to the wedding venue. Someone says they’re going to castrate you.”

A light, mocking laugh came from the other end. “Alright. Tell them to sharpen the knife.” Shane hung up. Zachary froze, then exploded in rage, smashing a glass. “She hung up? Melody, you put it on speaker to warn her, didn’t you?” “Zachary… I’m scared…” Clara trembled in Zachary’s arms. “That rapist took naked photos of me… If they get out…” “Clara, don’t be afraid!” Zachary’s eyes turned blood-red as he roared at the security guards: “Lock down the entire city! Find that asshole! Right here—I’m going to personally cut off that filthy thing!” Watching the man I was supposed to marry go insane while holding another woman, my heart grew colder and colder. Ever since Zachary’s older brother died in a car accident three months ago. Zachary had transformed from the devoted boyfriend who kept vigil for me on that snowy night into Clara’s on-call servant. “You ungrateful brat! What are you standing there for? Apologize to your sister now!” My dad, furious beyond reason, kicked me hard in the back. I lost my balance and fell to my knees on the floor. My knees slammed against the hard surface, instantly swelling and turning red. “As long as Clara forgives you, I’ll only send that rapist to prison and won’t kick you out of the Harrison family!” “I did nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?” I endured the excruciating pain and lifted my head, staring hard at these so-called “family members.” Six months ago when they brought me home, they called me the apple of their eye. But the moment Clara shed a tear, I became an ungrateful dog. “Still talking back!” My dad lost it completely and raised his hand to hit me again. “You’re worthless to the core! Since you won’t admit your fault, even if the Barrett family wants you dead today, the Harrison family won’t intervene!” “Dad, please don’t hit her…” Clara sobbed breathlessly, but triumph gleamed in her eyes. “It’s all my fault for having this face… Melody grew up in the countryside, so it’s not surprising she brought back bad people…” “Clara, you’re kind, but those who do evil must die.” Zachary looked up at the dozen live-streaming cameras at the wedding, his face twisted with rage as he announced: “Barrett Group is offering one million dollars for one of Shane’s hands!” “Harrison Corporation adds another million!” My dad immediately followed. The entire venue erupted. Camera flashes went crazy. I endured the severe pain and forced myself to stand up, snatching the microphone from the host’s hand. “Since you all think Shane did this, Zachary, Dad, Mom—dare you bet your entire fortunes with me?” My voice was hoarse but carried to every corner: “If Shane really assaulted Clara, I’ll not only personally arrest Shane but also give up my inheritance rights to the Harrison family and turn myself in to the police immediately!” My parents’ expressions changed slightly, showing hesitation. But I didn’t back down an inch, pressing forward step by step: “But if Shane is innocent, I want all of Barrett Group’s shares and all of the Harrison family assets.” “And you all must apologize to Shane in a live broadcast!” “As for Zachary—if you lose, your dick gets cut off!” “You’re insane!” My dad roared. “Is it worth betting on a rapist?” “Don’t you dare?” I shoved the microphone toward the live-streaming cameras, a mocking smile on my lips. “If the evidence is so clear, what are you afraid of? Or is this whole thing a fraud orchestrated by Clara?” “I’ll take that bet!” Clara suddenly threw off her outer garment, exposing her body covered in kiss marks and bruises, and screamed. “Dad, Mom, Zachary, agree to it! Being assaulted by Shane is a fact. My innocence can’t be destroyed like this!” “I want to watch Melody lose everything and see that rapist go to hell!” “Fine. Bring paper and pen. Let the whole internet witness this.” Zachary slammed his hand on the table. “Melody, today I’ll make you lose so badly you’ll have to accept it! When that asshole gets here, I’ll personally castrate him, then make you kneel at Clara’s feet like a dog!” A few minutes later. A “life-or-death betting agreement” was slapped down on the red carpet as cameras frantically took photos. They had just signed their names when the banquet hall doors were kicked open with a loud bang.

Shane walked in. She took off her helmet, revealing purple-pink wolf-cut hair that exploded wildly under the lights, black diamond earrings reflecting cold light. The cursing in the venue stopped as if someone had grabbed everyone by the throat. Shane ignored the surrounding gazes and walked straight to me, casually scanning the crowd. “Which dog was just barking about chopping me up for dog food?” When Clara saw Shane, her pupils constricted sharply and her face turned deathly pale. Her trembling finger pointed at Shane: “Zachary, that’s the one who assaulted me!” “He tore my clothes apart and pinned me down… said that since I’m the adopted daughter, I deserved to be raped…” The guests below instantly exploded! “He’s so arrogant! A rapist actually dares to show up like this!” “This kind of scum should be shot on the spot!” Shane glanced at Zachary, then looked down at me, a flash of heartache in her eyes: “Melody, this is your blind fiancé?” Zachary erupted in rage, pointing at Shane’s nose and roaring: “Shane, you asshole!” “Security, beat him! Now!” A dozen bodyguards with clubs approached menacingly. “Wait.” I stepped forward, standing in front of Shane, my eyes ice-cold. “Zachary, even judges give criminals a chance to speak.” “You’re so eager to convict Shane—are you trying to hide something?” “You…” Zachary was speechless with anger. Just then, Clara suddenly pushed him away and rushed toward the second-floor railing like a madwoman. “Since you’re all deceived by his appearance… I might as well die!” “Clara!” Without giving anyone time to react. Clara climbed over the railing and jumped. The entire venue screamed. Clara crashed heavily to the ground, her left leg twisted at a grotesque angle, blood instantly staining the floor. The venue fell into dead silence. The next second, screaming exploded! “The victim was driven to suicide!” “Beat this asshole to death!” Zachary rushed down the stairs like a madman and scooped up the blood-covered Clara. “Clara! Clara, don’t scare me!” Everyone followed to the first floor. Clara’s face was deathly pale, her lips purple, but she still stared hard at Shane. “Now… do you believe me? Shane did assault me!” Clara’s voice was weak, trembling with every word. “Shane, I want you to pay with your life!!” Zachary’s eyes turned blood-red as he roared at Shane. My mom rushed over and slapped me across the face again. “You brat! Why wasn’t it you who got assaulted!” My dad followed, raising his foot to kick my stomach. “Clara risked her life and you still dare to argue! Today I’ll teach you a proper lesson!” Shane wrapped an arm around my waist and quickly dodged backward. My dad lost his balance and fell to the ground with a thud. So my dad lay on the ground, shaking with rage. Guests frantically took photos. The live stream was filled with curses. “The real daughter is truly vicious!” “The adopted daughter used her life to prove she wasn’t lying, and the real daughter still argues!” Clara was shaking all over in pain, but she still secretly flashed me a triumphant smile. In that instant, I suddenly understood. She deliberately used one leg to completely establish her identity as the “victim.”

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After I became pregnant, the truth about my marriage finally became clear. My husband Andrew’s so-called “childhood friend” Quinn could freely enter our bedroom, spend my money, and live in the house I had paid for. Meanwhile, I, the legal wife who had covered the mortgage and supported the household, was treated like an outsider, mocked, and had my contributions publicly itemized at our housewarming party. When I refused to keep footing the bill, they called me cheap. When I tried to uphold my boundaries, they called me vicious. Then came that stormy night, when he, faced with a life-or-death decision, unequivocally placed me and our unborn child last. In that moment, I finally understood. This wasn’t favoritism. This was calculated abandonment. If they wanted me gone, this time I would make the first move. 1 Emily POV There was never any boundary between my husband Andrew and his childhood friend Quinn. Our friends and family didn’t see it as odd. They praised their “unbreakable bond.” As the lady of the house, I’d watch Quinn walk into our bedroom without knocking. When she admired the matching mugs I’d bought, Andrew gave her the one that said “His” without a second thought. He even let her nap in our bed. “We’re all family,” he’d say. “What’s the big deal?” The moment I showed any discomfort, Quinn would pout and sigh. “Andrew and I have always been like this. I can’t just change overnight.” A cold laugh rose in my throat. Screw your childhood bond. On the day of our new housewarming party, I was in the kitchen, heavily pregnant, preparing dinner. Andrew and Quinn were side-by-side on the sofa, playing video games, just waiting for the meal. Other guests chatted in the living room, wine glasses in hand. Not one offered to help me, a pregnant woman. At dinner, Andrew completely disregarded table manners, immediately forking the tenderest piece of roast beef from his plate to Quinn’s. “I know you like the tender cuts. This one’s for you.” Quinn complained her sauce was too spicy, and without a second thought, she used her own fork to reach into Andrew’s plate and take a side dish. “Andrew, yours looks better. I want this.” Odessa, my mother-in-law, beamed, her face creasing with delight. “That’s right! Quinn grew up in our house, she doesn’t mind!” My hand, holding the knife and fork, hovered in mid-air, feeling utterly out of place. I paid the down payment for this house, I handled the mortgage, and I bought all the party ingredients and drinks. Yet, at this dining table, I felt like a stranger forced to share a meal. After dinner, a friend suggested we play Truth or Dare. The mood was loose and boozy. I sat in the corner with my glass of warm water, watching. Andrew lost. His friends nudged him toward the dare, grinning. “If there were no legal consequences, who would you most want to give this house to?” A few of his childhood buddies immediately shouted, “That’s a given! For Quinn, as a wedding gift!” Andrew chuckled, trying to play it off. “Quinn’s like my little sister. What’s mine is hers.” Quinn chimed in, “Exactly! Emily makes so much money, she can just buy another one, right?” Everyone raised their glasses and cheered, as if they had already decided the ownership of my property. Andrew’s friends even started idly playing with the cash on the table, half-jokingly asking for a share. I walked to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle of Andrew’s prized aged whiskey, and smashed it fiercely onto the marble floor of the living room. Glass shattered, the scent of whiskey filled the air, and the entire room fell silent. “So eager to divide up my house? Fine. The police can come, they can make it official.” I pulled out my phone and dialed 91

“Hello, police? There’s an illegal gambling gathering here, with large sums of money involved.” Andrew rushed over to snatch my phone, his face pale. “Emily, are you crazy? It’s just a friendly card game, why call the cops? Do you want to ruin my career?” 2 Emily POV I looked at Andrew as he shielded Quinn and the money behind him, tears in my voice. “You’re in finance, Andrew. How will you explain this to your company? That you’re using your wife’s salary to fund your neighbor, while your wife is just the fool who pays for everything?” He kept Quinn behind him and lowered his voice to a sharp hiss. “You’re out of line. Quinn was just joking. Why do you have to be so stingy?” “If protecting my own money makes me cheap, then yes, I won’t pay another cent.” Andrew grabbed my arm, accusing me of humiliating him in front of his childhood friends. “Everyone’s here for our new housewarming party!” “Don’t be so obsessed with money.” Hearing that, I turned and slapped him hard across the face. Quinn immediately rushed forward, clutching Andrew’s arm tightly, her eyes welling up with tears. “Andrew, it’s all my fault for being poor and not having a good education. I just made Emily angry.” She sobbed, saying her family was unfortunate since she was little, and Odessa’s family gave her warmth. Andrew just looked out for her like a brother. “Andrew, quickly apologize to Emily. She’s a rich lady, it’s normal for her to look down on people from our background. Don’t let me ruin your relationship.” Her words made all the guests present look at me with hostility and contempt. The guest room door burst open, and Odessa stormed out, pushing me aside to stand in front of the crying Quinn. She pointed a finger at my face. “You dare hit him? You dare hit my son? How can you be so heartless? Quinn is such a good kid, what’s wrong with using your fork? Is someone going to die?” “Odessa, this is about boundaries. This is my home.” “What’s this ‘your home, my home’ nonsense? You married Andrew, you’re part of my family now! So what if you have money? If you look down on us, just say so!” Andrew stood behind the two women, silently condoning his mother’s attack on me. I watched Odessa tenderly wipe Quinn’s tears, while my husband checked his face for a slap mark. I remembered when we got married, I didn’t ask for any valuable gifts, and even paid for Odessa’s medical expenses. She held my hand and said she’d treat me like her own daughter. Turns out, being treated like a daughter meant being an ATM with no right to complain. Andrew stood there, clutching his face, frozen by his wounded ego. Quinn leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Andrew, your credit card payments next month still depend on Emily.” Andrew’s face changed. He looked at me stiffly. “Fine, my attitude was bad, alright? Stop making a scene.” I shook off his hand, slammed the door, and walked out. The elevator still hadn’t arrived. I leaned against the cold wall as a wave of dizziness washed over me, a symptom of the high blood pressure brought on by my pregnancy. Andrew caught up to me. “Just because you’re an executive, you think you’re better than my friends who aren’t as successful. You’re such a snob.” “Can’t you learn from Quinn? She might not have money, but she’s great at socializing! You always have that sour look on your face, like everyone owes you something!” “If I really wanted to support her, why would I wait until today? Our bond is pure familial affection. You’re just thinking dirty!” As he lectured me, I noticed the new watch on his wrist. It was my birthday gift to him last month, bought with my bonus. Now, on the watch face, there was a greasy fingerprint. It was left there when Quinn grabbed his wrist, pouting and clinging to him earlier. “Yes, my thoughts are dirty! Only you two are the most noble!” “The renovation funds? You used them to pay off Quinn’s payday loans. The prenatal check-up money I saved? You used it to buy her gifts.” “Just now, you let Quinn humiliate me, and then you accused me of being cheap.” “From this moment on, Andrew, I’m canceling all your credit cards.” 3 Emily POV I drove out of the complex and parked by the river. My phone vibrated continuously on the passenger seat. It was a text message from the bank about a deduction. Just during that whole drama, Andrew had charged another club private room fee. I was gone, but my money was still paying their bills. The latest transaction was five hundred dollars. The memo read “Just for fun.” I remembered how I cherished my three-year-old foundation empty bottle, refusing to throw it away, to save money for imported baby formula. Andrew didn’t have that kind of spending power. This money was spent on Quinn and his crew of freeloaders. This wasn’t a marriage; it was charity, it was being drained dry. I quickly opened my bank app and froze all his credit cards. No doubt, the house must be in an uproar right now. Sure enough, through the home security camera, I saw- Andrew, his back to the empty doorway, promising Quinn on his phone, “Don’t cry, baby. I’ve ordered your favorite gourmet pizza. I’ll be right back to be with you.” He skillfully opened the payment page, ready to use my credit card. “Everyone didn’t have enough fun tonight, so I’m paying for the pizza too!” “Insufficient balance. Payment declined.” Quinn’s sweet voice urged, “Andrew, why isn’t it ready yet? I’m hungry.” His friends laughed mockingly. “Andrew, did Emily cut off your money supply? It’s clear who wears the pants in your house.” To save face, Andrew immediately opened a high-interest loan app, took out a loan, and gritted his teeth, mentally putting the debt on my tab. When I returned to the complex, before even going upstairs, I heard faint commotion from above. I touched my lower abdomen and sent a message to my lawyer, Brandon. He was my high school classmate, specializing in family law. Brandon’s voice message quickly came back: “Emily, based on the financial statements you provided, if you don’t do a property division promptly, every debt he incurs could be classified as marital joint debt. You’d not only be supporting him but also his ‘dear sister.’ This divorce needs to be strategic.” Back home, as soon as I opened the door, it was a mess. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and greasy pizza. Andrew and Quinn were head-to-head, curled up on the sofa playing games, as if they were the true masters of the house. I calmly walked back to the guest room and closed the door. 4 Emily POV Early Saturday morning, I woke up with a sharp abdominal pain and shook Andrew awake. “Take me to the ER.” He saw my pale face, poured a cup of hot tea. “The company has an urgent meeting with a big client. I can’t go with you.” I weakly clutched his sleeve. “The client is pressing. Just call an Uber yourself.” A hurried honk sounded from downstairs. It was my car. My hand was still gripping him. Andrew’s face suddenly changed. He pushed me away. “Are you done or not? It’s just pregnancy! Don’t be so dramatic! Don’t mess with my important business!” He left in such a hurry that he kicked over the cup of hot tea. The scalding tea splashed onto the top of my foot, leaving a red mark, but he didn’t even look back. The door slammed shut with a loud bang. I collapsed onto the bench in the entryway, unexpectedly noticing Andrew’s forgotten iPad, its screen still lit. On the screen was a group chat interface called “Family Group.” As if possessed, I swiped the screen. Odessa’s voice message popped up: “That useless woman is so difficult to deal with. Quinn is so much more considerate.” I scrolled down further. Quinn: “Andrew, I saw a new LV bag, it’d go perfectly with your car. I want it~” Andrew replied with a transfer screenshot, the amount was eight thousand dollars. “Go wild, if it’s not enough, just ask me. Just don’t let that crazy woman know.” Further down were chat records between Andrew and his childhood friend. “After Emily gives birth, we’ll transfer her house to my mom’s name, then we can have Quinn move in.” It felt as if all the blood had been drained from my body. They were scheming to take my property. There was also a photo in the chat history, a candid shot of my insurance policy. Andrew asked in the group: “Mom, talk to your psychic and figure out, if this woman has an accident during childbirth, am I the beneficiary of this policy?” Mrs. Odessa replied: “As long as you’re not divorced, you’re the primary beneficiary.” Beneficiary. I remembered when I bought life insurance, Andrew’s concerned face: “Honey, let’s get a high-value one. If anything happens, I can still take care of this family for you.” Turns out, that wasn’t to guard against risk; it was to anticipate risk. I accurately exported all chat records and transfer records to my cloud drive. Then I used my phone to photograph my swollen foot and the empty room, sending them to my lawyer, Brandon. “Evidence. This is one piece of evidence that he abandoned a pregnant woman.” 5 Emily POV I slowly and with difficulty walked to the balcony, looking downstairs. The SUV I treasured was parked at the apartment entrance, the passenger window halfway down. Quinn sat there; that was my exclusive seat. “Andrew, what took you so long? I’m practically melting.” Andrew’s face was plastered with smiles, showing none of the irritation he’d had with me. “My mistake, I was just held up by that unpleasant woman back home.” He opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t rush to drive off but leaned over, naturally pulling Quinn’s seatbelt for her. They were so close their noses almost touched. Quinn took the opportunity to caress Andrew’s face, her voice sweet and coquettish. “You really do love me the most.” Andrew playfully tapped her nose. “Silly girl, if I don’t dote on you, who will?” The engine roared, and the car sped away. I stood in the shadows, watching the pair of red taillights disappear from view. In that scene just now, a pink Hello Kitty charm hung on the rearview mirror. I had wanted to throw it away before, thinking it didn’t match the car’s interior style, but Andrew stopped me, saying it was a lucky charm, for warding off evil. Turns out, it was Quinn’s mark. The entire car, from the scent of the air freshener to the placement of the charms, had long been claimed by that woman. I wasn’t just the housekeeper in this home, I was the driver of this car, and even a pawn in their flirtatious games. After checking myself and confirming there was nothing serious, I called Brandon. “Help me check Andrew’s recent itinerary. Where are they going?” Brandon replied quickly. “Found it. He just posted his location on Instagram, saying he’s taking his ‘sister’ to a mountain retreat for some fresh air. Are you going too?” The mountain terrain was complex, with poor signal. If something were to happen there, for both him and myself, it would be the perfect cover. “Yes,” I told Brandon. “Some debts can only be settled in the right place.” Hanging up the phone, I dialed Andrew’s number again. The phone rang for a long time before he answered, car music blaring in the background. “I’m coming too,” I said into the receiver. “The doctor said I also need fresh air.” Andrew’s voice was full of impatience. “Why would you go to the mountains while pregnant? Don’t make things difficult!” “You haven’t paid the maintenance for that SUV, have you? And all your camping gear for this trip, I heard you wanted top-of-the-line? I just got my bonus, perfect timing to pay for it.” Silence stretched for two seconds on the other end of the line. Then Quinn’s voice chimed in. “Andrew, if Emily wants to come, let her. We could use someone to cook anyway.” Andrew’s tone immediately changed. “Fine. Just call an Uber and meet us there.” 6 Emily POV At the high-end outdoor equipment store, Andrew was holding up an imported two-person tent, priced over a thousand dollars, sizing it up. Quinn stood beside him, holding her phone to find the perfect angle for a selfie, then looked down to edit her Instagram post. Seconds later, I scrolled past her update. The picture was of her and Andrew’s backs, with the caption: “Spontaneous trip, so glad to have a boy who spoils me #AdventureTime.” I stood at the checkout counter, watching Andrew pile up all the items. “Emily, hurry up, it’s two thousand dollars total.” Andrew gestured, taking it for granted. I glanced at the pile of items: besides the tent, there was a full set of camping cookware and two top-tier sleeping bags. “Don’t we already have a tent at home?” I asked. “And why buy a two-person one? How will three of us fit?” Quinn leaned over, looping her arm through Andrew’s. “Emily, the old one is so tacky, it won’t look good in pictures. Plus, this one is windproof and waterproof, it’s for everyone’s good, right? As for sleeping, well, the tighter we cuddle, the warmer we’ll be.” Andrew grew impatient, glancing at the people waiting in line behind them. “Don’t dawdle. There are people waiting. Didn’t you just get your bonus? Don’t be so stingy.” Before paying, I deliberately raised my voice to the cashier. “Could you please issue the receipt in my personal name? And make a note: purchased with pre-marital personal funds.” The cashier paused for a moment, then nodded and processed it. Andrew’s face darkened. He felt I was being too clear about the separation in front of outsiders, making him lose face. But he looked at the pile of new gear and held back from reacting. By the time we arrived at the mountain campsite, the sky was overcast. It was a semi-developed camping spot, and vehicles could only be parked halfway up the mountain. As the only pregnant woman, I was assigned to carry two five-liter water jugs and a box of groceries. Andrew, meanwhile, was busy helping Quinn adjust her live stream stand, searching for the best lighting. I carried the water jugs, a dull ache spreading through my lower back. Suddenly, Quinn’s shriek came from over there: “Ow! I cut my finger!” Andrew immediately dropped the tent peg he was holding and rushed over to grab her hand and inspect it. I looked too. She merely had a tiny hangnail on the edge of her finger. Yet Andrew’s face was anxious. He cupped her hand, gently blowing on it. “How could you be so careless? Does it hurt?” I remembered earlier, when I strained my back carrying the water jugs and gasped for breath, Andrew only glanced back once and said, “You’re so delicate. More exercise is good for labor.” A person’s subconscious reactions don’t lie. In his subconscious ranking, Quinn was a fragile piece of porcelain to be protected, while I was a sturdy earthenware pot built for abuse. I put down the water jugs and emotionlessly began to build a campfire. Once the fire was lit, Quinn sat on a folding chair and directed, “Emily, I want my steak medium-rare, with lots of black pepper. No green onions, please.” I threw the tongs onto the grill pan. “I’m pregnant. I can’t stand the smell of cooking fumes. If you want to eat, grill it yourself.” Andrew frowned, his tone growing stern. “Quinn trusts your cooking! How can you act like this as my wife? Don’t be a spoilsport, everyone’s hungry.” I picked up the tongs again and flipped the meat, mentally adding a labor fee for this meal to my future divorce claims. Once the steak was cooked, Quinn immediately snatched it. She took a bite but spat it directly onto the ground. “Ugh, it’s too tough. I can’t even chew it. Emily, are you doing this on purpose?” A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. The mountain air grew humid and sticky. Dark clouds rapidly gathered in the distance. Andrew and Quinn were still laughing and playing, completely oblivious to the approaching downpour. Ten minutes later, the rain poured down in sheets. Water instantly drenched the ground. The three of us scrambled into the sole two-person tent. Rain pounded on the tent fabric, creating a deafening roar. The once spacious area felt terribly cramped with three people squeezed inside. Quinn claimed she was afraid of thunder and insisted on squeezing between Andrew and me. Another explosive clap of thunder. Quinn shrieked and burrowed into Andrew’s arms, kicking her legs wildly. Her heel landed heavily on my swollen belly. I let out a muffled groan and reached out to push her foot away. Andrew, however, turned on me. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see she’s terrified? You’re tough. Let her have it.” He took off his windbreaker, wrapped it around Quinn, and patted her back as if soothing a child. “Don’t be scared. I’m right here.” He picked up a thermos and poured hot water for Quinn to drink. My own water bottle lay empty, half-submerged in the muddy corner of the tent. I clutched my aching stomach and watched them hold each other. In that moment, my heart died completely.

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The day Damian Thorne became a mafia boss, I took the bullet meant for his heart. A searing pain tore through my shoulder. Through the haze, I heard Damian say calmly, “Aria, I owe you for this. But I must give Seraphina a wedding.” I forced a bitter smile, handing him the divorce papers I’d already prepared. He glanced at the document, then shook his head. “You will still be my wife in name. But Seraphina will be moving in with me.” Seeing his unwavering resolve, I was too exhausted to argue anymore. He seemed to have forgotten, though. Five years ago, when we went to file our marriage papers in Ireland, he was so drunk he could only scribble his name. Our marriage was never legally binding. It could end at any moment. The blood on my shoulder kept flowing, a steady, silent leak. Damian frowned and lifted me onto the sofa. I watched him stride off to find a doctor. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t touched in years. “Caleb,” I said, my voice tight. “Does your promise from five years ago still count?” “Aria. I’ve been waiting for you to call.” I hung up just as Damian led the doctor back in. The physician cut away my blood-soaked sleeve, his face turning grim. “She needs a transfusion now. If I recall, Mrs. Thorne is RH-negative?” The nurse beside him breathed out in relief. “Thank god Mr. Thorne stockpiles rare blood at the estate. Otherwise, this would have been fatal.” But Damian explained, “That blood is reserved for Seraphina. She’s been frail since the accident.” I glanced at Seraphina, sitting in her wheelchair, encircled by bodyguards. In five years of marriage, Damian had never assigned a single guard to me. The day we returned from Ireland, he’d dropped me at an elite combat training facility instead. His message was clear. “If you want to stand beside me, you have to learn to stand on your own first.” The blood entering my veins felt like ice water, chilling me to the core. When it was over, the doctor offered his final note. “Mrs. Thorne is stable, but she requires complete rest.” Damian leaned in, taking my hand. His eyes held no warmth. “You can’t rest yet. You need to introduce Seraphina to everyone first. I won’t have her seen as my mistress. I won’t allow her to be disrespected.” Next to the matter of Seraphina Vance’s reputation, my injury seemed irrelevant. I gave a bitter, almost imperceptible smile. “Then sign the divorce papers.” Our marriage held no legal weight, but the assets we’d accumulated did. They needed to be divided. Damian’s face tightened with impatience. “Don’t be absurd, Aria. Seraphina caught a chill yesterday. She needs to rest. She can’t wait for you to be ready.” I smiled. “Fine, I’ll go.” I stood up from the sofa. “Damian, you know I’m crazy. The second I get near that bitch, I might just lose it and kill her on the spot!” With that, I turned on my heel and strode towards the crowd without looking back.

Damian froze for a moment, then quickly recovered, chasing after me. When I reached out my hand to Seraphina, Damian’s face contorted in utter panic. “Aria! Don’t you dare!” The bodyguards instantly went on high alert. But in the end, I did nothing but gently take the glass of wine from Seraphina’s hand. Turning back, I met Damian’s wary gaze, and I couldn’t help but find it amusing. He was so protective of his true love that he couldn’t even maintain his perfect composure anymore. It was the doctor beside me who worriedly advised, “Mrs. Thorne, you shouldn’t be drinking right now…” I waved him off, signaling him to stop. Then I tilted my head back, drained the wine, and smiled at everyone. “Today’s a good day. I saved my husband, and as a reward, he’s brought me a companion.” The people around us exchanged awkward glances. No one was blind; anyone could see the undisguised affection Damian had for Seraphina. “But Miss Hayes just took a bullet for Mr. Thorne!” “Well, it’s their private business. If Miss Hayes doesn’t mind, what can we say?” I ignored the whispers, smiling sweetly at Seraphina. “Seraphina, you’ll be moving into the Thorne estate from now on. You can keep me company.” I took off a bracelet Damian’s mother had given me and slipped it onto Seraphina’s wrist. “This bracelet is for you.” Seraphina’s face lit up with a flattered smile. She knew the significance of that bracelet. Damian’s expression, however, was grim. He lowered his voice. “What are you doing? Do you know what my mother’s bracelet represents?” I batted away his hand, which was trembling for some reason, and said with a smile, “What’s wrong? You told me to be generous. Aren’t I being very generous right now?” I’d drunk the wine too quickly, and it was already going to my head. I steadied myself, sidestepped a passing server, and was about to leave. Damian grabbed my hand again, his eyes swirling with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. A wave of intense fatigue washed over me. I pressed my temples and whispered, “Do I still need to play along with your charade? If not, I’m going back to my room to rest.” He opened and closed his mouth, hesitating. “You haven’t eaten all day…” How rare. He was actually showing concern for me. Before I could answer, Seraphina’s startled cry instantly pulled Damian’s attention away. “Oh! These shrimp are so hot.” Damian no longer spared me a glance, tenderly examining Seraphina’s slightly reddened fingers. “How can you be so clumsy? If you want shrimp, I’ll peel them for you.” Even though we’d been estranged for five years, Damian and I weren’t without our tender moments as a couple. Once, after I’d worked for weeks to finalize a deal for him, he’d actually carved salmon for me at the dinner table. But when I’d tentatively asked him to peel shrimp for me, his response was a cold, hard line. “I’m not a servant. Don’t push your luck.” Now, Seraphina didn’t have to do anything to receive his complete, unreserved affection. My throat felt constricted. Suddenly, the wound on my shoulder throbbed so much I could barely breathe. In the dim room, I found myself chain-smoking. “Smoking so much? Don’t you want your wound to heal?” Damian had come in unnoticed, pressing down on the hand holding my cigarette. The cigarette was pulled from my hand, replaced by a plate of steak and shrimp. The shrimp were peeled. I was a little surprised. “I peeled too many. Seraphina couldn’t finish them all. Don’t waste them.” My appetite vanished instantly. I picked up my lighter, ready to light another cigarette. “Don’t smoke. From today on, you’re going to quit with me.” Damian casually tossed the lighter into the trash can. Meeting my questioning gaze, Damian explained, “Seraphina isn’t well, I won’t let her breathe secondhand smoke.” Somehow, my eyes felt a little moist. My father was a drunk, and smoking and drinking were things I despised. But Damian was a heavy smoker, and in our first year together, I had tried to get him to quit. Each time, he’d defiantly blow smoke rings in my face. “Can’t stand it? Then get used to it.” He even went so far as to force me to smoke daily, just to get me to stop bothering him about it, until I, too, became dependent on nicotine. A notification from my phone vibrated, pulling me back to reality. I glanced down; it was my flight information. I turned my body, shielding the screen from Damian’s inquisitive gaze. He paused, a frown creasing his brow. “What’s the message?”

I dodged his hand as he reached for my phone, then looked up, gesturing towards the door. “Your little sweetheart is here.” At the doorway, Seraphina met Damian’s gaze, then meekly lowered her head. “Damian, am I interrupting? I didn’t mean to, I just… it’s raining today, and my leg hurts so much…” Her tears came quickly. “You know I can’t sleep when it rains, without you by my side.” I let out a heavy breath, suddenly understanding whose side Damian was on all those rainy nights he didn’t come home. He had brought Seraphina back as early as our first anniversary. He would never know that on rainy days, my lower abdomen would also ache faintly. That was the first rainy night he didn’t come home. On our anniversary, I waited with my pregnancy test results until past midnight, only to receive a message from his enemies saying he’d been kidnapped. No video, no pictures, not even an audio recording, yet I believed it. I rushed to the docks alone. When it came to him, I always seemed to lose all reason. By morning, he was probably just getting out of Seraphina’s bed. And I was lucky to be alive, after lying unconscious in a pool of blood for so long. Only, I’d lost the baby. A brief separation makes the heart grow fonder; rekindling old flames surely meant hours of whispered intimacies. No wonder when his men frantically urged him to the hospital to see me, he’d snapped impatiently, “Aria, your pity play won’t work on me. I was only gone for one night, there’s no need to make such a huge scene.” Good thing I never told him about the baby, or he’d have thought me even more cunning. My thoughts snapped back to the present. I walked towards the door. I had no desire to watch this loving couple get intimate. I couldn’t stand Seraphina’s feigned fragility. As I passed her, her wheelchair suddenly tipped over, and she landed on the floor with a thud. “Ah! My leg…” “Seraphina!” Damian rushed out to help her, bumping into my shoulder as he sidestepped. That slight force alone shouldn’t have made me fall, but the bullet wound on my shoulder seemed to tear open again. The pain was excruciating. My vision blurred, and I collapsed to my knees. Damian, however, thought I was still trying something. He protectively pulled Seraphina to the other side and sharply reprimanded me. “What else are you trying to do?” Unjustly accused, I said coldly, “I didn’t push her. There are security cameras in the hallway, aren’t there? Go check them.” Seraphina sobbed uncontrollably. “Damian, let it go. She probably didn’t mean it. It’s my fault for not getting out of her way…” Damian patted her shoulder soothingly, a frown on his face. “Is there really a need to check? If you say it wasn’t you, then did Seraphina push herself over? Her leg can’t move.” Her leg can move! I saw it clearly just now. My throat was dry and sore, but the words caught in my mouth and I swallowed them back down. I was leaving anyway. There was no need to say things he’d never believe. “My leg… Damian, my leg hurts so bad…” Damian, oblivious to everything else, hastily scooped Seraphina into his arms. Before he left, he shot me a cold glare. “Today’s incident won’t be forgotten so easily.” It was the housekeeper who noticed the blood still oozing from my shoulder and rushed to take me to the hospital. Before the car even reached the hospital, I received a call. “Miss Hayes, your father’s condition is unstable. He’s threatening to kill himself if he doesn’t see you!” Suicide? No, that wouldn’t do. I still wanted him to live a life worse than death. I rubbed my temples, irritated, and told the driver to turn towards the sanatorium. At the sanatorium, the moment my bastard father saw me, his cloudy eyes suddenly cleared. “Aria, you finally came to see me. I know I was wrong. Will you forgive me? Your mother…” “Shut up!” I couldn’t hold back anymore and lunged forward, grabbing his throat. He had no right to mention my mother. Reason returned, and I disgusted, loosened my grip on his neck. In that instant, a small knife appeared in his hand, and he suddenly lunged, aiming for my throat. “Aria Hayes, die! Just die!” I raised my arm to block him, and the wound stretched from my wrist straight up to my elbow. A sedative shot, and the man on the bed gradually became still. My hand wouldn’t stop trembling. The caregiver thought it was from pain and frantically tried to pull me away to bandage the wound. It wasn’t until she couldn’t move me at all that she followed my gaze to the small knife on the floor. It was the knife I had given Damian for protection. I let out a scoff. Sure enough, the closer people were, the better they knew where to stab to hurt the most.

“Why are you still stubbornly clinging on? Damian said he doesn’t want to see you again.” With Damian gone, Seraphina had no need to act frail around me. I was busy packing my luggage, with no time to deal with her, but I glanced at her empty wrist and casually asked, “Where’s the diamond bracelet? Why aren’t you wearing it?” She was so eager to join the Thorne family; it didn’t make sense for her not to wear the bracelet symbolizing the Thorne family matriarch’s position. Seraphina’s smile froze, then she said viciously, “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” “Didn’t you use some shady tactics to threaten Damian into taking the ring back? And now you’re deliberately bringing it up to gross me out. You’re clearly not that generous.” She sneered, lifting her chin. “But what does it matter if I have that bracelet or not? The only one who can truly get into Damian’s heart is me!” I frowned. Damian took it back? I shook my head, not wanting to guess Damian’s thoughts anymore, and ignoring Seraphina’s provocation. Lost in packing my luggage, I didn’t notice the sudden vicious glint in Seraphina’s eyes. A commotion erupted in the mansion. By the time I realized something was wrong, a tranquilizer dart hit the back of my neck. Before my vision blurred, I saw the face of one of Damian Thorne’s enemies. I woke up to a swaying motion, on a boat. Seraphina had woken up earlier than me and was tremblingly demanding, “Just grab her! Why did you grab me too?” Sure enough, she had dismissed the bodyguards around the mansion and let these people in. The man only sneered at Seraphina’s naive plea and turned to answer Damian’s call. Damian’s voice came through, rough with strain. “Your father is free. Now let them both go.” “There’s no such thing as two for one, is there? Two women, you can only choose one.” After a long silence, Damian still didn’t make a choice. Seraphina grew anxious. “Damian, save me! My leg can’t move. Aria can escape on her own. I can’t do this without you…” I stayed silent, my sharp eyes noticing that Damian’s men seemed to have already infiltrated the boat. The next second, the boat’s power was cut, and the entire vessel plunged into the boundless darkness of the sea. Then, gunshots, dull thuds, and the sound of bodies falling followed in quick succession. In mere moments, control changed hands. The leader, shot in the abdomen, let out a strange laugh. “Damian, you truly are treacherous. But you never expected this, did you? There’s a bomb on board, and I’m taking both your women down with me!” To approach unnoticed, the rescue boat Damian had dispatched was small, clearly only able to save one person. Damian’s breathing grew heavier. He roared, “Save Seraphina first!” The cold wind made my eyes ache. I heard Damian continue, “Aria, you know how to stop the bomb, right? I taught you.” “Go on!” I stared blankly at the device, its red numbers flashing down. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight… “Damian,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I truly regret ever loving you.” On the other end, Damian heard every word. “Aria…please…I’m begging you, don’t” His voice was almost shock. “Mr. Thorne,” a voice crackled in his earpiece. “Seraphina and I are secure.” At that exact moment, a massive fireball tore across the surface of the sea.

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I dropped by the company Chloe Miller runs for a surprise audit. The second I walked in, I spotted a newly built room. It was kitted out with high-end computers and audio equipment. Inside, a stylishly dressed guy was completely zoned into a game, the volume cranked so loud it made the office walls vibrate. A few minutes later, he lost the game. Pissed, he slammed his keyboard, stormed out, and pointed at the employees outside. “Can’t you guys type more quietly?! If you hadn’t been so loud, I wouldn’t have lost!” I pulled the intern next to me aside and asked who’d hired this clown. The intern whispered, “He’s CEO Miller’s husband, Jake. I heard that he owns the whole company.” My temples started throbbing. He’s Chloe’s husband? Then what the hell am I? I pulled out my phone and called my dad. “Dad, tell Chloe to bring the divorce papers to the office. Now.” Dad sent me to the company to test Chloe. He said it was just a routine check—nothing to stress over, just a chance for me to get acquainted with the business. I figured it’d be just a formality. I told the receptionist I was an auditor from Corporate, and she swiped me through security without a hitch. The second I stepped into the office floor, a deafening wall of game noise hit me. At the far end of the space was a new glass-walled room packed with top-of-the-line computer gear—a massive monitor, mechanical keyboard, high-end mouse, and a full surround sound setup. A silver-haired kid in a trendy hoodie was glued to the screen, headphones on, furiously smashing buttons. “C’mon! You guys suck! Can’t you play any better?!” He muttered curses under his breath, fingers flying across the keyboard, totally zoned into his gaming bubble. Outside, the employees all looked miserable. A few had noise-canceling headphones on, heads down in their work. Not five minutes later, a furious yell erupted from the glass room. The guy ripped off his headphones, slammed them on the desk, then smash his keyboard before yanking open the glass door and storming out. He pointed at the programmers crunching to meet deadlines and started yelling. “Can’t you guys type quieter?! Tap, tap, tap! It’s so freaking annoying!” “I lost that last team fight ’cause you jerks were too loud! A bunch of losers—can’t you work quietly?” The programmer he was yelling at froze, face flushing red then paling, hand trembling on the mouse. “Clearly, you’re just trash at the game…” mumbled a female colleague next to him. “What’d you say?” Jake’s ears pricked up. He whirled on her. “Say that again—I dare you.” The woman flinched, shrinking back in her chair, too scared to peep. I watched the scene go down, my blood starting to boil. I flagged down a young-looking intern nearby. “Who’s this clown?” The intern glanced at me, then quickly at Jake’s retreating back, eyes wide with nervousness. He put his finger to his lips, signaling me to keep it down. “Shhh.” He leaned in close, voice scarcely audible. “He’s Chloe Miller’s husband, Jake—our GM.” My heart dropped. All of Chloe’s weird behavior lately suddenly clicked. The intern kept going. “Word is he owns the whole company—so he’s the real boss around here.” “You new here? You’ll get used to it after a few days.” He sighed, looking way more worn-out than his age. “Chloe even built that room just for him to game. He usually holes up in there, so we don’t deal with him much.” “He must’ve lost a bunch of games today—so he’s in a crappy mood and came out to vent.” His words bounced around my head, mind spinning. He’s Chloe’s husband. Then what the hell am I? The intern caught my expression and frowned worriedly. “You good? You look awful.” I shook my head, forcing a smile. “I’m fine—just a little shocked.” “Having someone like that in a company… it’s definitely an eye-opener.” The intern shrugged dryly. “You’ll get used to it. He never actually does anything. We just grin and bear it, hoping he’ll win a game soon so he’ll go back to his cave.” I didn’t say anything else. Never actually does anything? Publicly humiliating employees, ruining the whole office vibe—that’s not “doing” anything? I watched Jake grumble back to the glass room, slap his headphones on, and the game noise cranked back up. I pulled out my phone, half-tempted to call my dad right then. But I paused, then put it away. Walking out now would let Chloe off way too easy. Dad sent me here to evaluate her skills. And right now, both her skills and her character had massive red flags. I wanted to see just how badly this company had gone off the rails under her watch. I smoothed out my shirt and headed to the front desk. “Hi, I’m Liam Miller, assigned by Corporate to do a project review.” “Can you set me up with a temporary workstation? Somewhere quiet, preferably.” “Also, this is an internal audit—I’d rather Chloe doesn’t know I’m here.” The receptionist nodded politely. I walked into the office floor, found a corner spot, and my eyes landed on the glass room. Jake was already back to gaming, flailing his arms around, totally clueless about the new person in the office.

Chloe wasn’t in the office that morning. Jake must’ve lost a few more games. He strolled out of the glass room, face stormy as a thundercloud. He roamed the office, obviously looking for someone to pick on. He eventually wandered into design, stopping behind a designer and glaring at her screen. “What the hell is this crap? That color scheme’s hideous—looks like dog barf.” The designer, a young woman named Maya, turned bright red, eyes welling up. She bit her lip, too scared to talk back. Then he headed to operations, snatching a freshly printed event proposal off a desk. He flipped through a couple pages, scoffed, and smirked. “Who wrote this crap? A kindergartner? I could run a better guild war in my game.” With that, he flicked the papers back onto the desk, scattering them all over the floor. The operations manager, Ms. Reed, scurried to grab them, hands shaking. Jake kept strolling, making his way to the server room door. He must’ve felt hot, so he grabbed the thermostat on the wall and started mashing buttons. “This AC sucks—it’s not cooling worth a damn.” He hit some random button, and the panel started blaring an alarm. David, the tech lead, bolted out of his office, face turning white when he saw what was going on. “Don’t touch that! That’s the server room’s climate control!” But it was already too late. With a click, the whole office’s AC cut out. A few seconds later, a shrill overheat alarm started blaring from the server room. David ignored Jake and sprinted into the server room. The office temp shot up fast, making everyone swelter. Jake stood in front of the AC panel, scratching his head. “What a piece of crap—breaks just from pressing a button. Why’s all your equipment so cheap?” The guts on this guy—to blame everyone else—was unreal. Mr. Jenkins, the office manager, hurried over too. He glanced at the blaring server alarm, then at Jake. He immediately put on a kiss-up smile. “Didn’t scare you too bad, did it sir? This panel’s always been glitchy—should’ve had it fixed sooner.” “Ain’t your fault—swear! I’ll call someone to fix this right away!” “Why don’t you head back to your room and relax? We’ll handle this.” Jake grunted, still looking put-out, but stomped back to his glass room. Only then did Mr. Jenkins wipe the sweat off his brow and start directing the tech team’s emergency repairs. As he walked by, I called out. “Mr. Jenkins—does this happen often?” Mr. Jenkins glanced at me, recognized the corporate badge, and his face twisted bitterly. He tugged me into the fire escape stairwell and lowered his voice. “You’re the auditor, right? I shouldn’t say this… but today’s incident? It’s nothing.” He sighed heavily. “Truth is—he’s Chloe’s husband. We can’t do a damn thing.” “Chloe’s out at a meeting today—so no one’s here to rein him in.” “On good days, she keeps him locked in that room…” His face crumbled with helplessness. “Last month, he lost a game and trashed his keyboard. Pieces flew everywhere—took out three monitors.” “We tried to replace them, but Chloe said we were negligent—didn’t protect company property. Tanked our whole department’s quarterly review.” “Said it was a ‘learning experience.’” My stomach dropped. This was Chloe’s management style. Letting a deadbeat run wild while making hardworking employees clean up his mess. Chloe… unbelievable. Just then, the glass room door flew open. Jake stuck his head out yelling. “It’s freaking hot! AC fixed yet? My computer’s gonna overheat! And I need more game credits—who’s gonna buy me cards?” No one answered. The office went dead silent—only the server alarm cutting through the air.

The AC barely kicked back on when Dad called. He asked me to grab core data from marketing. Said the board needed it for their afternoon meeting—insisted I handle it personally, no mistakes. I grabbed a USB, copied the files from the marketing director, and headed to the copy room. I’d just finished stapling the reports when the door swung open. Jake strolled in, sipping coffee. His eyes lit up when he saw the shredder humming next to the printer. “Why’s this thing so loud? Ruining my game.” He reached for the stop button. I instinctively pulled the freshly printed reports aside—the shredder was too close, and I didn’t trust him not to knock them in. Jake’s hand hit air, and he stumbled forward. Coffee went flying. The scalding brown liquid arced through the air—landing directly on my freshly printed confidential reports. The thick stack of A4s soaked up the coffee instantly, ink smearing into an unreadable mess. I stared at the ruined documents, my calm facade cracking. I looked up, eyes locking on Jake. He didn’t look remorseful—just annoyed I’d moved the papers and made him miss the button. My voice turned to ice. “You gonna fix this?” Jake had probably never been talked to like that by an employee. He froze. Then his face turned red with anger. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” “You know who I am?” He puffed out his chest, looking indignant. “I’m Chloe Miller’s husband!” I stared at him, feeling numb—almost amused. “Oh?” “So Chloe Miller’s husband gets to ruin company documents? Disrupt work because his game got interrupted?” My words clearly rattled him. He blew a gasket, pointing his finger at my face. “Damn right I can!” “Chloe owns this company—so I own it! I can do whatever I want!” His voice screeched—like nails on a chalkboard. “Who the hell do you think you are? Some new hire lecturing me?” Coworkers gathered at the commotion. They saw the mess and held their breath. A couple of admin ladies tugged my sleeve, urging me silently to apologize. I stood my ground. Just stared at him. Jake hated losing face in front of the team. He pulled out his phone, smirking coldly. “Tough guy, huh? Think you can push me around?” “I’ll call Chloe—she’ll remind you who’s boss here.” He fired up FaceTime. It rang once and connected. He held the phone up, waiting for Chloe to rescue him.

Jake’s face did a complete 180 the second Chloe appeared. He turned to the camera, voice quivering with fake hurt. “Chloe! This guy’s bullying me!” “I tried to turn off that loud shredder, and this new guy attacked me!” “He spilled his own coffee on his papers and blamed *me*! Yelled at me!” He twisted the story so hard, acting like the biggest victim ever. Chloe’s soft, soothing voice came through the phone. “Calm down,baby. I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you. I’ll fix this.” I could see she was in a fancy boardroom—company logo blazoned behind her. Probably at that international summit—make-or-break for the company’s future. And she paused it—for his stupid tantrum. “Be a good boy, honey. Hand him the phone.” Her voice dropped to subzero. She addressed the crowd behind Jake—ice in every syllable. “Who hurt my Jake?” “Give them the phone. I’ll handle this myself. Let’s see who’s got balls big enough.” Jake’s grin could’ve split his face. He thrust the phone at me—chin high, eyes glinting with glee. I took it calmly. My face filled the screen. Chloe saw me—and her face blanched. Panic flashed in her eyes. “Liam?! What are you doing there?!” Her brows knit—like I was the worst inconvenience. “Don’t do this! I’ll explain when I’m back—please!” I stared at her face—the one I used to dream about. Now she just looked ridiculous. My cold silence made her voice sharpen—edging on threats. “Don’t be petty, Liam! This meeting’s critical—the company’s future’s on the line!” Blamed me for being “petty.” Her stupidity made me laugh—bitterly. I spoke into the camera—voice like steel. “Perfect, Chloe.” “I’ve seen all I need to see—about your leadership, your judgment.” Before she could process it, I flipped the phone back to Jake—who fumbled to catch it. I pulled out my phone and called Dad. It rang once. My voice stayed calm—but it cut through the entire copy room. “Dad, assessment’s done.” “Tell Chloe Miller to get back here—with divorce papers.”

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My father ordered my older sister, Valerie, and me to choose our fiancés from the Thorne family’s twin brothers. In my previous life, Valerie chose the healthier younger brother, Brandon Thorne, leaving me with the disabled, quiet, and introverted Julian Thorne. I didn’t want him to die in the future, so I accepted my fate. He walked with a limp, so I took him to top specialists nationwide. He couldn’t protect me, so I learned self-defense to get strong, begging my father not to send him away. I thought he was just physically disabled and emotionally withdrawn. I believed if I was patient enough, he’d eventually open up to me. Until the day the mansion caught fire, with thick smoke billowing everywhere. He spoke to me for the first time, his voice clear and icy: “I’m sorry, but Valerie is still inside.” He let go of me, turning and rushing back into the flames. I was trapped under a fallen beam, watching his retreating back as he jumped from the second-story window carrying Valerie. The last thing I heard was his hoarse voice: “I failed you in this life. I promise to make it right in the next.” I realized then that his disability and silence had been only for me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose our fiancés. This time, I’d choose the ruthless man who controlled half the city’s underworld.

I stood in front of the two men, frozen. Valerie glanced at me, pursing her lips. “Forget it, I’ll choose Julian Thorne. Sera isn’t feeling well—she should pick a strong fiancé to protect her.” With that, she moved from Brandon Thorne’s side to Julian Thorne’s. Brandon Thorne, impeccably dressed in his suit, tensed visibly, his fists clenching slightly. I stood frozen, processing the shock of being reborn. In my past life, I’d also hesitated after Brandon and Valerie chose each other. Seeing my indecision, Valerie suggested we swap fiancés. Looking at Valerie’s face—so perfectly innocent and wounded—I genuinely believed back then that she wanted to give Brandon to me. I was naive, thinking she cared about me, so I flat-out refused. I didn’t want Valerie to miss out, and I couldn’t bear to see “disabled” Julian get sent back and scorned by the family. Until the mansion fire, when Valerie’s fiancé Brandon had already reached her. But Julian Thorne still rushed in to save Valerie first. Valerie clung tightly to Julian Thorne’s neck, yet she was murmuring, “Put me down.” She was always like that—knowing she wouldn’t truly lose anything, yet always managing to come off as sweet and kind. But this time, I nodded. “Okay.” Valerie, who’d been expecting me to refuse, froze. She wasn’t the only one shocked—Julian Thorne looked at me too. His deep-set eyes held a mix of confusion and surprise. “Absolutely not!” my father cut in. “You’re the eldest daughter of the O’Connell family—your safety comes first. Julian Thorne has a leg injury and barely speaks; he’s not fit to be your fiancé.” I smiled. So my father had known about Julian Thorne’s condition all along. Yet he still brought him here. It seemed letting Valerie and me choose was just a formality. “But…” Valerie secretly let out a relieved breath, dabbing the corner of her eye, about to speak. But then Julian Thorne spoke up, his voice low but perfectly clear: “My leg works fine.” I looked up, shocked. The man who hadn’t walked normally in seven years in my past life—the one supposedly with a severe leg injury—was standing perfectly straight now? Meeting the knowing depth in his eyes, I finally realized. He’d been reborn too. Typical. All that talk about making it right in the next life… but when he actually got a second chance, he was still scared to be my fiancé again. But he had no idea I didn’t want him anymore. “As for protection,” Julian Thorne continued, “Mr. O’Connell can reassess.” I didn’t doubt Julian Thorne’s abilities. After I died, my spirit had watched him jump from the second floor of the burning building to save Valerie, using his body to shield her as they landed—his back badly burned. The irony of it all. In my past life, I’d learned self-defense, terrified my father would send away this “broken, defenseless” fiancé. Sure enough, once Julian Thorne dropped the act, he easily took down the top bodyguards sent to test him. My father started to waver. The wounded innocence vanished from Valerie’s face. Between the two, Julian Thorne was undeniably more handsome. If not for his supposed disability, Valerie would’ve picked him from the start. “Very well, then Julian Thorne will be betrothed to you. Brandon Thorne, you’ll be responsible for protecting Sera O’Connell.” At my father’s decision, Brandon Thorne glanced my way. When he saw the scar on my face, his brow furrowed noticeably. He stepped forward. “Mr. O’Connell, I must respectfully decline this arrangement.”

“What is the meaning of this?” My father scowled. “The Thorne-O’Connell alliance was settled long ago. Are you really going to break our agreement?” Brandon Thorne couldn’t hide his disgust for my appearance. “Brandon Thorne… isn’t worthy of the youngest miss.” I sighed. Ever since I got this scar at ten years old saving Valerie, this face has been a constant source of contempt. Maybe Julian Thorne’s behavior in my past life was because of this too. “Brandon Thorne! Are you abandoning Sera O’Connell?” Valerie grabbed his arm anxiously. Brandon Thorne looked at her, his eyes filled with affection. “I never came here for her.” I said nothing. Valerie quickly hid the brief flash of joy in her eyes, replacing it with a fake frown of anger. “No! That’s not how this works! The engagement has to stand!” “Simple solution,” I said. “Valerie can just take both of them, can’t she?” Valerie’s face flushed. “You… what are you talking about?” Both men were devastatingly handsome—from the moment they walked in, Valerie hadn’t taken her eyes off them. My father looked contemplative. “You truly don’t want either of them?” “No, I have no interest in either of these men.” Both men turned to look at me at once. They seemed to be wondering what gave me the right to say such a thing. Julian Thorne’s gaze was more complicated—his pupils narrowing, as if his confusion went beyond just my words. I couldn’t read him, and I didn’t care to try. “Then can you guarantee your own safety?” I looked up, meeting my father’s gaze with calm resolve. “I can. Not only can I protect myself, but I can also become an asset to this family.” My father paused, clearly taken aback. “Your brother’s been struggling to secure that territory, hasn’t he? Let’s see what you can do.”

In my past life, all my focus had been on Julian Thorne. I’d even overlooked the true foundation of our family’s power: territory and influence. Valerie and I were different. Though my father claimed to treat us equally, the family’s most profitable territories and businesses always went straight to Valerie and my brother. My brother expanded our territory and solidified our reputation, with his businesses and income growing year after year. Valerie, just collecting her annual share of profits, earned enough to last several lifetimes. Meanwhile, I’d had to beg my father just to cover Julian Thorne’s medical bills. If I wanted to raise my status, I had to get my hands dirty—fight for it, take it for myself. My brother, who barely acknowledged his less-favored sister, didn’t even bother meeting with me. He just tossed me a run-down operation in some backwater district, told me to “figure it out myself,” and never asked about it again. I wasn’t angry. I took it over quietly, starting with restructuring—weeding out the disloyal and those colluding with outsiders. Step by step, I reclaimed territory that small gangs had taken over and reestablished order. In my past life, I never got to handle things like this. Now, doing it, I surprised myself with how naturally I handled street politics, balanced competing interests, and even outmaneuvered stronger opponents. After single-handedly taking down a troublesome rival gang from the next district—making them agree to pay protection fees and hand over two key intersections—my brother actually agreed to a formal meeting, which surprised everyone. He threw me a belated welcome party, three months late. He even handed over management of another chaotic waterfront area that connected to major smuggling routes. The family’s recent expansion had hit a wall, with several tough problems stalling progress. We needed someone to break the deadlock badly. Even though he favored Valerie, my proven skills and value meant he had to take me seriously. Slowly, my reputation in our circles even started to overshadow Valerie’s famous beauty. One day when I got home, Valerie stopped me. “Sera O’Connell, don’t you think you’re showing off too much?” I frowned. “You’re meddling in violent conflicts everywhere, putting yourself around ruthless thugs way too often. I’m not trying to put you down, but your success in such a short time is just luck—and those goons being idiots.” “What if you mess up later and provoke the wrong people? It would bring shame to the O’Connell name and could get us all in trouble.” “Besides, you already have that scar on your face. If you keep acting so tough, fighting men over territory, no guy will ever want you.” She then subtly glanced at Julian Thorne. I cut to the chase. “Are you afraid I’ll steal your thunder, Valerie? Or that I’ll claim power and profits that used to go only to you and my brother?” She froze. “Valerie, who do you think you are to tell me not to show off? The family’s pampered princess who just sits back and collects checks?” “You’re a beneficiary here. What gives you the right to look down on me for fighting while you enjoy your comfortable little life?” “Sera O’Connell, you…” Her eyes instantly welled up. But I didn’t let up. “Since you brought up the scar on my face, let me ask you: Have you forgotten what you did to me when I was ten?” “I was trying to protect you from an enemy. If you hadn’t pushed me, Valerie, I never would’ve fallen onto their blade—and this face wouldn’t be ruined.” Valerie covered her mouth, tears spilling onto her hands. “Save the tears. I’m the one who suffered and bled, not you. Go back to being your pampered princess.” I turned to leave. But she suddenly lunged forward, upset, trying to grab me to explain. The second our arms touched, her foot slipped, and she fell backward—tumbling down the winding staircase!

“Ah—!” A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the grand hall. Everything happened in a split second. Before I could react, I watched her tumble awkwardly to the stair landing, her arm sliced by shards of a broken vase—blood gushing instantly. Brandon Thorne and Julian Thorne came rushing over like lightning. “Valerie!” Brandon Thorne’s eyes widened in rage as he swept her into his arms. Julian Thorne quickly examined her wound, his movements surprisingly gentle yet urgent. He looked up at me, still standing on the stairs, his eyes full of shock and icy accusation. “Sera… I just wanted to hold you, to apologize… Why… why did you push me?” Valerie’s face was ashen, tears mixing with cold sweat, her voice weak and overwhelmed by incredible grievance. “I didn’t push her! She fell on her own!” I immediately shot back, but my heart sank. This scene was all too familiar—she’d used similar tricks to frame people in my past life. “We all saw it! Sera, you said those terrible things to Valerie, and she still tried to stop you and apologize—but you were so cruel to her!” Brandon Thorne held Valerie, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me like I was the most evil person on earth. Julian Thorne silently bandaged Valerie, but his silence was colder than any accusation. He believed her. “No, Brandon, Julian… don’t blame Sera…” Valerie leaned weakly in Brandon’s arms, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made Sera angry… She didn’t mean it…” That performance sealed my “guilt.” My father rushed in at the commotion, only to find this scene: his oldest daughter covered in blood, weak and crying; both fiancés glaring at me; and me, standing on the stairs, “coldly” watching it all unfold. “Father, it’s not Sera’s fault—it was my own carelessness…” Valerie was still “kindly” trying to “excuse” me. My father’s face turned ashen. Finally, he waved a tired, disappointed hand. “Sera, you’ve disappointed me deeply! Go to West Hill Estate and stay there. You’re not to return without my permission!” West Hill Estate was a remote, dilapidated mansion the O’Connells used to punish wayward family members. Brandon Thorne carried Valerie off to the hospital. Julian Thorne, meanwhile, got stuck with “escorting” me to West Hill Estate. We didn’t say a word the whole drive. When we arrived at the eerily empty mansion, he finally spoke, his voice low: “You… should reflect here. Once Valerie’s injuries heal and she calms down, maybe…” “Maybe what?” I scoffed. “Maybe she’ll graciously forgive me? Julian Thorne, are you blind too?” He pressed his lips together, avoiding my gaze, and said nothing more. He turned and left, locking the heavy front gate behind him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “347727”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn