My boyfriend is stunningly handsome, successful, and rich. After three years together, I decided it was finally time to bring him home for the holidays to meet my parents. But the moment I posted a photo of Liam and me in our family group chat, it exploded! “Chloe, I get that you might be desperate, but you can’t just date anyone who’s breathing!” “Are you trying to skip those blind dates by bringing home some random guy just to upset Mom?” I stared blankly at Liam beside me. He’s over six feet tall, with chiseled abs, wearing a custom Armani suit. But the next second, Dad sent back the photo I’d just posted with a message. “Chloe, are you blind? You picked such a short, ugly loser for a boyfriend?” I looked at the man in the photo. He looked old, balding, with a beer belly, and barely five feet tall. He was wearing shabby clothes and holding me in a creepy way. But the photo wasn’t AI-generated, and there were no signs of editing. I looked up at Liam again, still standing there like a Greek statue. I kept asking people around me, but everyone described Liam as short, poor, and ugly. I could not handle the shock. I slowly began to lose my mind. Eventually, I was sent to a mental hospital and accidentally killed by another patient. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I was about to introduce my boyfriend publicly.

My parents always played favorites with my sister Lily, and I suspected they wanted me to ditch Liam for her. This time, I didn’t send a photo of us together to the family group. Instead, I sent only Liam’s picture and told a little lie. “This is my best friend Ashley’s new boyfriend. What do you guys think of him?” But to my shock, their replies were exactly the same. “How could Ashley date such a loser? Is she going through something lately?” “Chloe, as her best friend, you need to talk some sense into her. Don’t let her just date anyone.” “Chloe, you need to tell Ashley to break up with him! He’s clearly punching above his weight!” I was stunned. If last time they were just messing with me because they knew Liam was my boyfriend… This time, they had no reason to trick me about Ashley. Just as I was lost in thought, Mom’s message popped up. “Didn’t you say you found a boyfriend? The holidays are coming. Bring him home.” Dad chimed in. “Exactly! It’s time our family of four became five. You’re not getting any younger, after all.” “Chloe, when are you bringing Liam home? Don’t you dare end up like Ashley.” My hand, holding the phone, started sweating cold. I couldn’t imagine the expressions on their faces if I actually brought Liam home. Liam’s tall frame enveloped me from behind as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his tone a playful pout. “Chloe, what did your family say? Are you taking me home to meet your parents for the holidays?” I looked at his handsome profile, sunlight shining on him like he was an angel descended from heaven. How could he possibly be the short, poor, and ugly guy my family was describing? That height difference… that chiseled, sculptural face… the luxurious fabric of his clothes… Every detail reminded me that Liam was the living definition of a ‘dream guy.’ This time, I was cautious and didn’t agree right away. “Of course, I’ll take you to meet my parents. But before that, can you do me a small favor?” He chuckled softly and kissed my forehead. “Anything, baby. You name it.” An idea sparked in my mind. “Liam, would you mind taking a few photos with Ashley at the park later?” Liam’s face instantly fell, looking hurt. “Chloe, are you trying to set your man up with someone else?” I quickly reassured him, lying that I’d lost a dare, and it was just a request from Ashley. “Just three photos in the park, then you’re free to go. No touching or anything.” Liam looked at my pleading face and finally softened. “Just this once.” I sighed in relief and called Ashley. “Ashley, are you free? I just need you to take three photos with my boyfriend at the park.” But I didn’t expect her to refuse so vehemently. “Are you serious? You want me to take pictures with your short, ugly loser boyfriend? You’d be better off killing me!” It was one thing for my family to fool me, but why was Ashley saying the same thing? Ashley had seen Liam many times before. Why was she suddenly calling him short, poor, and ugly now? “Chloe, I wanted to tell you to break up three years ago. But you were so deeply in love, I was afraid you’d do something stupid, so I kept quiet.” “You’re such a love-struck fool. How can you treat that kind of trash like a treasure? The smell of him makes me want to puke, how have you endured it for three years?” My heart leaped. Could it really be that love was blind for me? Even what she called his ‘old man smell’ seemed like a pleasant fragrance to me, actually quite nice…

I still didn’t believe it. I took a deep breath and decided to bribe Ashley. “If you agree this time, I’ll get you the new LV bag that just came out.” “Deal. But don’t ask me again.” After Ashley hung up, the more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Even with a beauty filter, the difference couldn’t be this drastic. Three days later, the photos Ashley sent me shattered my illusions. The man in the photo was the exact same one my dad had sent me in the previous life, the one I was supposedly hugging. I looked at the photos on my phone – they were perfectly natural, no signs of alteration. Just then, Liam came home. I rushed to him. “Liam, did you keep any of the photos from today?” “Of course, I did. Wouldn’t want you nagging me about it.” He handed me his phone. In his photos, he and Ashley stood together, looking like absolute gods. How could this be… Where did it go wrong? I took his phone to the balcony, comparing the two sets of photos repeatedly. Same park, same time, same poses, only the people were different. The other two photos were the same. Liam came to the balcony, wrapped his arms around me, and complained playfully. “Baby, I did what you asked, why do you still look upset?” His scent was still so fresh and clean, like orange soda, utterly captivating. But the thought that the man holding me now could be that man in the photos made my skin crawl. “No… no way. I… I was just jealous, that’s why I looked upset.” Liam instantly perked up at my words. “Then since I completed your mission, you have to give me a kiss.” I looked at his angelic face, about to lean in, but the image of the man in the photos instantly killed my appetite. I gently pushed him away, giving a nervous, guilty smile. “A kiss? That’s nothing! I’ll cook you dinner tonight as a reward.” Liam didn’t notice my odd behavior. He just kissed my cheek and said, “Okay!” I went to the kitchen and sent the photo to the family SnapChat group, along with a message. “Is the man you saw last time the same one in this photo?” Replies quickly poured in. “Why hasn’t Ashley broken up with that guy yet? They’re completely mismatched! Ashley is 5’5″, even in heels, she’d be taller than him!” “Chloe, has your best friend been brainwashed by this man? What does he even have going for him?” “Chloe, look at his clothes, they smell like an old man’s. He’s probably wearing his dad’s hand-me-downs!” As if I wouldn’t believe them, Dad sent a separate photo of the man into the group. “See? This is the same guy you posted in the group last time, isn’t it?” I carefully examined the single photo – still the same time, same background, same pose, but a different person. Why were the photos I took so different from what they saw? Liam, who hadn’t seen me come out yet, knocked on the kitchen door. “Chloe, why are you zoning out in the kitchen? How about I cook instead?” “No, no, it’ll be ready in a minute. Just wait at the dining table.” I quickly finished two dishes and carried them out. But as Liam sat down, I glimpsed the butterfly birthmark on his neck. It was Liam’s unique mark. I immediately pulled out Ashley’s photos and the family group photos to compare. My jaw dropped. The birthmark on that man’s neck in the photos was identical to Liam’s…

I picked at my food, my mind a mess. Looking at Liam beside me, I cautiously spoke. “Liam… there’s something I need to ask, but please don’t get angry.” Liam turned to me, smiling gently. “Okay, I won’t be angry, no matter what you ask.” “Has anyone ever told you what you look like?” He was silent for a moment. My heart sank. Had I accidentally brought up a sore spot? Did everyone think he was ugly? The next moment, he chuckled, taking my hand and guiding it to his face. “Everyone has always told me I’m handsome since I was a kid. I was voted Campus King every single year since junior high.” He seemed to worry I wouldn’t believe him, so he pulled out his phone to show me pictures from his college days. For four whole years, Liam’s photos were displayed on the ‘Hottest Guys’ wall, and he consistently ranked number one by a landslide. Seeing my bewildered expression, Liam flicked my forehead playfully. “What? Can’t stand that your boyfriend is just naturally this gorgeous?” “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. You didn’t doubt me when we first started dating, but now that we’re about to meet your parents, you’re getting suspicious? Are you looking for an excuse to break up with me?” Liam feigned a serious look, and I could only push my doubts down. During dinner, I was distracted, constantly glancing at Liam, trying to find anything unusual. But I came up empty-handed. It wasn’t until we were in bed that my mind started racing again. Watching Liam sleep beside me, an idea formed. If love was blind, how did that explain the height difference? Why did everyone else see him as barely five feet tall, while I saw him as over six feet? I carefully slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Liam. I walked to the entrance and checked all of Liam’s shoes – no insoles. Still not satisfied, I pulled a tape measure from the drawer and crept back onto the bed to measure his height. If six feet was just my visual perception, a tape measure would be accurate, right? But Liam kept turning over precisely when I was trying to measure him, preventing me from succeeding. I retracted the tape measure and then stared at his stomach. The man in the photos had a beer belly, but Liam had eight-pack abs. Were his abs fake? Was he wearing something under his shirt? I’d seen videos about guys faking abs, and my hand slowly reached towards his stomach. Just as I was about to confirm, he caught my hand. Liam opened his eyes, a playful smirk on his face. “Honey, are you feeling a little restless tonight? Looking for some action?” Cold sweat instantly dripped down my back. Thankfully, he didn’t notice I’d been trying to measure his height. “No, I was just worried your stomach might get cold… It’s late, let’s just go to sleep.” I quickly lay back down, pretending to be asleep. But Liam rolled onto me, his warm lips claiming mine. “Baby, you’ve definitely stirred something up, and it’s not going away easily.” I didn’t find out anything all night, but Liam definitely wore me out. What a waste of an investigation! The next morning, Liam looked utterly satisfied as he gazed at me, still sprawled exhaustedly on the bed. “Baby, when are you going to take me to meet your parents?” “You’re so adorable, I’m almost tempted to just lock you up and keep you all to myself.” Liam’s reminder made me quickly pull out my phone. The date I’d promised to bring Liam home was tomorrow.

I thought about how good Liam had been to me for three years-gentle, meticulous, attentive, and generous. Even if he was short and clumsy, I’d accept it. But he couldn’t be poor… And in these three years, he had spent at least a million on me. That couldn’t be fake. “Tomorrow, then. Happy?” Liam’s eyes sparkled with joy, and he kissed me. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Now I don’t have time to prepare gifts for your parents.” “Chloe, don’t sleep in. Get up quickly and take me to pick out their gifts.” I gave him an unamused look, not bothering to point out who had worn me out so badly last night. Liam pretended not to notice, pulling out a custom-tailored suit from his closet and looking at me. “Chloe, can I wear this to meet your parents tomorrow?” I felt a pang of déjà vu. Last time, my parents had looked at him with disgust and disdain when he wore this. They’d almost physically attacked him. But to me, Liam was a walking clothes hanger; everything looked good on him. Especially this custom suit, which perfectly showcased his flawless physique. After getting everything ready, Liam called to reserve the entire luxury mall and drove me there in his Maybach. The sales associate at the jewelry store bowed respectfully to Liam. “Sir, how may I help you?” “I need nearly a hundred pounds of gold bars, and please pick out the most exquisite gold rings and earrings for my parents.” The sales associate’s face lit up with an irrepressible smile. I couldn’t help but look at him. “This is so expensive, won’t it be too much?” “They’re my future in-laws, how can it be too much? What’s mine is yours, honey.” Liam also picked out a Patek Philippe watch for my dad and bought Lily the entire new collection from LV. I figured he couldn’t possibly be poor. I took photos of all the gifts he bought and sent them to Ashley. But I received a skeptical reply from her. “Chloe, be careful! This could be a romance scam! A lot of guys who look respectable on the surface lure you in by taking out huge loans, then stick you with massive debt, claiming it was all for you.” “These guys work with shady loan agencies, earning huge interest fees.” I didn’t believe her. I sent her photos of Liam’s luxury car and mansion. “Those can all be rented! Don’t be so naive and believe everything.” My cheerful mood instantly died down. The next day, I brought Liam home with a mix of excitement and anxiety. My family’s expressions shifted from blatant shock and disdain to forced, strained smiles. Dad accepted Liam’s gifts. “So this is Chloe’s boyfriend? You shouldn’t have bought so much and gone to all this trouble. Come, sit down and eat.” Mom, meanwhile, dragged me aside. “So, all this time, the ‘best friend’s boyfriend’ you mentioned was actually yours? Were you too embarrassed to admit it?” Lily even went so far as to dramatically cover her nose, staying as far from Liam as if he were a monster. Dinner passed in stiff silence. It wasn’t until Liam and I were on our way out that I caught the three of them flashing a synchronized “V” sign behind our backs. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but I hadn’t expected the group chat to explode the moment we got home. “Chloe, look at what he brought! Fake gold bars, a knock-off watch, a replica bag! Is he trying to make fools of us? All of it put together isn’t even worth a thousand! How can he be so shameless?” “Your dad and I are telling you right now: if you don’t break up with him, we’re cutting you off.” “Chloe, you can’t imagine how bad he smelled at dinner. It made me want to vomit.” But I just scoffed, nestling into Liam’s arms, and sent a reply. “Cut the act. I know exactly why you’re all calling Liam some short, penniless nobody!”

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It was three years after our breakup when Julian Kingston and I unexpectedly crossed paths again at a luxury hotel. I was working the front desk. He checked into the presidential suite, accompanied by a young and sexy woman. That night, I received three internal calls from his room. The first time, he said, “My girlfriend got the sheets dirty. Send someone to change them.” I called housekeeping to handle it. Two hours later, he called again, demanding another sheet change. I followed procedure. At 2 AM, his third call came through. Before he could even speak, I politely refused. “I apologize, sir, but housekeeping has already clocked out for the night.” The man chuckled lightly, his tone nonchalant. “Then you come change them.” I ignored him and hung up. My job is front desk. It’s not my responsibility to clean rooms. My colleague, Chloe, leaned over, asking conspiratorially. “Was that the guest from the presidential suite again?” When I nodded, Chloe covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. “He must be incredible in bed, making them change sheets three times in one night!” “So, what did he say when you told him housekeeping was off?” I told her honestly. “He told me to go up and change them.” Chloe froze, then scoffed, laughing derisively. “Just because he’s in the presidential suite, he thinks he can treat people like dirt? So disrespectful.” “He acts like the hotel is his personal home! He thinks we front desk staff are 24/7 personal servants…” Before she could finish, the phone in front of her rang abruptly. She cleared her throat and answered it. The next second, she respectfully addressed the manager. I couldn’t hear what was said on the other end. Chloe’s eyes suddenly widened, and she looked at me. “Did you say to send Aubrey Reid to the presidential suite to change the sheets right now?” Fifteen minutes later, I stood outside the presidential suite, grimacing as I pressed the doorbell. Julian, wearing nothing but a bath robe, answered the door. He had an incredible physique, ripped abs, and water still trickled down his collarbone. Seeing me, he stepped aside to let me in. The hem of his robe swayed with his movement, almost revealing too much. The faint sound of rushing water came from the bathroom. He led me to the bedroom. Then he casually sat down on a nearby sofa. With an air of calm, he took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it. I silently pulled back the duvet. The wet stain on the sheets unexpectedly caught my eye. It felt like I’d been punched in the chest. My heart ached dully. He exhaled a smoke ring, his voice laced with the languid contentment of a man utterly satisfied. “My girlfriend gets so wet every time; the sheets are completely soaked. There’s no way we can sleep on them without changing them.” “Please hurry. She’s a bit tired.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Five minutes.” I efficiently stripped the dirty sheets and quickly put on fresh ones. Once I was done, I gathered the soiled sheets and turned to leave. But then, he suddenly closed in, pressing me tightly against the edge of the bed, leaving me nowhere to go. He leaned in further, and I stumbled backward, falling onto the bed. The next second, he had me firmly pinned beneath him. His powerful forearms braced on either side of my head, and his knee pushed my legs apart, pinning them so I couldn’t even close them. His bath robe had completely parted, his ripped abs pressing taut against my lower stomach, the scorching heat of his skin radiating through the thin fabric. The water in the bathroom still hadn’t stopped. I clenched my fists, trying to push off the bed to stand up. But the power imbalance was too great; I couldn’t move him an inch. I frowned, pushing against his chest, my voice a low whisper. “Your girlfriend will get the wrong idea, let me up.” His eyes turned cold. He suddenly grabbed my resisting wrists, twisting them behind my head. His other hand slowly slid under my top, his calloused thumb tracing a path along my waistline, sending shivers through me. “All these years, I still don’t understand.” “Why, of all people, did you cheat on me with him?”

The sound of water in the bathroom abruptly stopped. But he remained utterly unmoved. In a panic, I bit down hard on his arm. He grunted, wincing, and his grip loosened slightly. I took the chance to push him away, clutching the sheets as I fled the room. As the door closed, the woman’s soft, languid voice faintly drifted out. “Oh, stop it. If you make them change the sheets again, I’ll be too embarrassed to show my face tomorrow.” I couldn’t quite make out his answer. Walking down the silent corridor, my wildly pounding heart slowly began to calm. It wasn’t that I hadn’t imagined what it would be like to see him again someday. But I never expected that after three years, he would hate me this much. Better if we’d never met again in this lifetime. Back at the front desk, Chloe leaned over to gossip with me. “Do you know who that guest in the presidential suite is?” It was late, and I was tired; I didn’t feel like engaging. But she grew more excited. “I just looked him up online! He’s actually the heir to the incredibly wealthy Kingston family in New York!” I said flatly, “Snooping on guest information, that’s against the rules.” “I was just curious!” She continued to share. “Everyone online is still talking about their billion-dollar inheritance battle from three years ago!” “This Mr. Kingston suddenly fell gravely ill at a critical moment and almost lost his inheritance rights.” “And his first love, seeing him so ill, actually cheated on him at his lowest point.” “Oh, I haven’t even told you the craziest part yet. Do you know who she cheated on him with?” Chloe’s chatter buzzed in my ears. “Yeah, I know.” She raised her voice slightly. “You know? You saw the news too?” I slowly turned my head, calmly looking at her astonished expression. “I don’t need to see the news.” “I was his cheating ex-girlfriend.” The expression on her face instantly froze, and it took her a long moment to process. “OMG.” Meeting Julian was an unusual accident in my life. I saw something wrong and kicked a pervert right in the groin. I dragged the pervert to the police station, and Julian followed me the whole way, thoroughly amused. He waited outside the precinct for me, then got my contact info. And that’s how we started. The day he confessed his feelings to me. I asked him why he liked me. He just smiled without speaking, then after a moment, he took my hand and said, “I was captivated by the way you kicked that guy in the groin.” Fine, sometimes I didn’t understand his taste. But I liked him just the same.

He always loved to tease me. We were together for a long time. He bought an apartment near campus. We lived the loving life of an ordinary couple. My parents divorced when I was young, so I grew up living with my grandmother. Once, while I was on a FaceTime call with her, he overheard her mention that her teeth were falling out and it was getting hard to eat. The very next day, he took my grandma to have a full set of new teeth fitted. Later, I brought up the cost awkwardly. A full set of teeth was over $200,000. He signed the bill without a second thought, but I had no idea how I could ever repay him. He saw through my hesitant expression. “Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll take care of it.” I cautiously said to him, “What if we break up later? You wouldn’t ask for the money back for her teeth if we broke up, right?” He burst out laughing. Back then, I only knew he was rich, but not how rich. It wasn’t until I muttered to him one day about my scholarship not being disbursed yet. Coincidentally, from that day onward, the Kingston Group scholarship process at school was streamlined and began to be announced and disbursed on the same day. That is how I learned he was a son of New York’s Kingstons. Later, his father died. The Kingston family’s inheritance battle was a sensation. Besides Julian, his father had several illegitimate children scattered around. At the peak of the inheritance dispute, Julian was suddenly hospitalized. The diagnosis was acute kidney failure. He stayed in the ICU for over ten days. After two rounds of dialysis, his kidney function still hadn’t recovered. The doctors, with no other options, suggested a kidney transplant. But we waited and waited, but no suitable donor could be found. I even went to each of his half-siblings, begging. But not a single one was willing to be tested for a match. And who would agree to be a match? Without Julian, they’d get a bigger piece of the pie. They were practically praying for him to die; why would they step in to save him? During that time, I felt lost in a fog, unable to find a way out. Julian seemed to have a premonition. He had his lawyer transfer all his assets to me. He lay in the hospital bed, his pale hand gently stroking my face. Patiently, he wiped away my endless tears. He said meeting me in this lifetime meant he had no regrets. But to everyone’s utter shock… No sooner had I accepted his gift than I threw myself into another man’s arms. I chose not to stay with Julian through his final days. I betrayed Julian, eagerly pledging allegiance to another. And that man was his father’s most favored illegitimate son.

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The year my daughter needed me most, I left her at a foster home and married a wealthy man instead. Five years later, she became an A-list celebrity. Her first move after hitting the big time? Calling me during her victory livestream. Watching me rush to collect a free meal from the community kitchen, she pulled her manager close with a satisfied smirk: “If you’d just stuck it out a bit longer back then, you could be living the high life with me now. Regretting it yet?” I grinned. “Oh yeah? Prove it. Wire me a hundred grand.” She hung up, furious. My phone buzzed. A hundred thousand dollars hit my account. I called her back: “Wow, color me impressed! Send another hundred grand!” “Dream on!” Right as she went to hang up, I rapped my bandaged hand against the camera: “Haha, just messing with you. Keep your money.” My smile faded. I reached up and pulled off the scarf entirely. Revealing a face weathered by chronic illness. I smiled and waved at the camera: “By the time you’re watching this recording, I’ll already be gone.” “But hey—look at you! You made it, Violet Lane!” “I always knew you would! Haha~” “Shocked? I figured once you hit stardom, you’d come back to rub it in. How’s that—called it, didn’t I?” Violet shot to her feet. She took a step forward, then froze. A bitter laugh escaped her as she turned to the host: “How much did she pay you to stage this whole thing?” The host froze: “Violet, your mother’s will specified that if we ever connected with you, we should play this recording instead.” “Will?” Violet laughed bitterly: “A selfish woman like her? She hasn’t had enough good days yet. Why would she give that up? Trying to guilt me now?” She grabbed her manager’s hand. “Sorry, but when I needed her most, she walked out on me.” She glared at the screen. “She doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near me.” “Violet, I know you hate me.” The second she turned away, my voice came through: “After I left you, I never had an easy life. Don’t worry about that.” “Still mad? Think of this goodbye video as my way of letting you vent. And if you don’t want to watch, that’s okay too.” “And seriously—congratulations on becoming a star!” Violet spun back around. The screen showed footage from every day and night from the day I left her until the end.

I picked up my handheld camera and forced a smile at the lens: “Today… let’s pretend I’m having one last meal with my Violet.” I held up the bowl of oatmeal and imagined my daughter sitting across from me. I smiled at the empty space, like I was answering an unasked question: “You’re wondering about Violet? She… has work. She can’t make it today.” I bowed my head and took a spoonful of oatmeal. Suddenly, a violent coughing fit hit me. I lurched sideways and spat a mouthful of blood-flecked oatmeal into the trash can by my feet, then quickly covered it with crumpled paper. I wiped the corner of my mouth and managed a weak smile for the camera. “End-stage kidney failure… it’s no walk in the park… Did I scare you, honey?” I lifted the camera, angling it to show myself and the empty chair across from me: “Quick, let’s get this ‘lonely mom special’ on film. Once I’m gone, you won’t get to see me like this anymore.” The lens caught only my forced smile. I held it there, staring for a long, long moment. “Violet… do you think… if I wasn’t here one day, would you… would you ever think of me?” I paused, resting my cheek gently against the cold table edge: “Sometimes I have these silly thoughts. If I turned into a bug, would you even recognize me?” I shook my head, muttering to myself: “No, a bug’s no good… maybe a little bird instead. I’d be the kind you loved as a kid—a cardinal with a clear, sweet song. If you ever missed me, I’d land on your windowsill and sing for you.” “I promise I won’t wake you up or make a mess on your windowsill…” My voice trailed off until it dissolved into quiet sobs. Dinner was finished. I leaned against the wall, shuffling slowly over to that old cabinet. In the bottom drawer, under everything else, was money I’d secretly stashed away over the years. I put it all on a bank card and carefully wrote the PIN on the back. Then I found that copy of *The Education of the Heart* I’d bought years ago and slipped the card inside. After a moment’s thought, I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and wrote: [Violet, Mom will come back as a little bird to see you] Tears finally came pouring out, splashing heavily onto the floor. “My daughter… Mom really wishes… I could really become a little bird…”

“What do you mean my condition got worse and you told them not to let me back?!” In the footage, I clutched my test results, confronting the doctor angrily. “Clara, please calm down!” The attending physician blocked my path. “Your physical condition is too poor. There’s nothing we can do. Besides, you haven’t paid your hospital bills in a long time…” My eyes reddened as I stared at him: “You all knew about this?” I looked around at the silent nurses and other patients. “So you just gave up on me like that?” Everyone looked down. “Clara…” The doctor sighed. “You know your situation. The treatment costs are way beyond what you can afford. I recommend you just get some painkillers and spend your final days at home.” I shook my head, eyes red: “You’re lying… You’re all lying!” I grabbed the doctor’s white coat tightly: “Today is April first… April Fools’ Day. You’re just trying to scare me, right? Tell me it’s a joke!” The doctor turned his face away, silent. I collapsed onto the hospital’s cold corridor floor. Tears hit the clean tiles. “It’s over…” April first. April Fools’ Day. The day I found out my body was shutting down fast. What was even crueler? No one was joking. I don’t remember how I made it back to that basement room. For two weeks straight, I wandered around in a fog, like a zombie. On the way back from the hospital with painkillers, I didn’t even feel the raindrops hitting my face. It wasn’t until I bumped into someone that I snapped out of it, scrambling to help her pick up scattered papers: “I’m so sorry, so sorry…” When I saw the title on the top document—”Adoption Certificate”—followed by the name “Violet Lane,” my hands froze.

“Mom?” Violet was already dressed in the latest designer clothes, standing beside a well-dressed middle-aged woman. My faded old jacket and mud-spattered pants looked totally out of place. A hint of satisfaction crossed her face: “Look at you. What happened—did that rich guy dump you?” I looked up. Our eyes met—mine red-rimmed, hers suddenly stiffening. I handed back the scattered papers and turned to leave. “Mom!” She grabbed my arm: “My new mom… she treats me really well.” Of course I knew that. But I still managed a smile: “Really? That’s great.” She held onto my arm when I tried to pull away, her eyes getting a little red: “What I mean is, if you can’t make it anymore, you can tell me!” “I’m not… I’m…” I clutched the painkillers tightly. “I’m doing okay.” “Are you?” She tugged my hand, revealing the worn old bracelet on my wrist. When she was five, she’d used her saved allowance to buy materials and weave this bracelet for me. “Don’t tell me you can’t even afford a new one now!” She said it through clenched teeth. I noticed she wore an elegant watch on her wrist, no other jewelry. Our eyes met. A flicker of hope crossed hers. The next second, I ripped off the bracelet and tossed it into the storm drain. “Mom!” Her voice mixed with the rain, angry but tight with emotion. Tears streaming down my face, I kept walking. I didn’t look back. That night, I went back to the same spot in the pouring rain. A leaf? No… A pebble? No… Where’s my bracelet? I dropped my umbrella and knelt on the ground, digging with my hands. Dizzy. Nauseous. But… I can’t lose it… A dog barked. I lunged toward the sound frantically. Where the little dog had been, I found the bracelet in the muddy water. I reached out to pet the dog’s head. But instead, I collapsed face-first into the mud with a splash.

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Christmas Eve. Mom suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and was rushed to the ICU. I called my husband Ryan. His ex-girlfriend Celeste answered. “He’s in the shower. Can I take a message?” A few hours later, Celeste updated her social media: “This boutique couples’ hotel has such amazing vibes! Definitely coming back with my boyfriend~” The photos showed clothes strewn across the floor and several used condoms. Ryan texted me: “Working late. Be home as soon as I can.” I didn’t cry. A man who cheats is garbage, and I don’t want anymore. The OR light stayed on. I leaned weakly against the wall, my hand trembling as I gripped my phone. Friends and family showed up one after another. “Jade, how’s your mom?” “Jade, what did the doctors say?” “Jade, isn’t Ryan here with you?” I kept my head down. I had no idea what to say. After Mom was brought to the hospital, the doctor immediately issued a critical condition notice. I watched doctor after doctor go into the OR, but none came back out. As for Ryan? Was I supposed to tell them he’d just posted on social media—photos from a boutique hotel with Celeste? I could only keep my head down and nurse my wounds alone. Ryan’s parents arrived. When Harold didn’t see Ryan, his face darkened. He immediately pulled out his phone to call him. “Where the hell are you? Get over here right now—” Before Harold could finish, Ryan’s irritated voice came through: “Dad, did Jade complain to you again? I’m working late at the office. She knows that!” Margaret spoke up. “Ryan, you—” “Mom, don’t. I can handle things with her. You and Dad don’t need to get involved.” “I’m swamped here. Gotta go.” Margaret looked at me awkwardly. Harold’s face turned red with rage. He was about to call again. I forced a weak smile. “Dad, if he’s working, let’s leave him be.” After I said that, all the strength seemed to drain from my body. I slowly slid down the wall. The friends and family around me were clearly upset with Ryan. He was my husband, Mom’s son-in-law. When my mom was fighting for her life, no matter what he was busy with, he should’ve been here. But he wasn’t. The operating room light went out. The door opened. I looked up with desperate hope, only to see the doctors’ grim faces. My body trembled. I couldn’t believe it. Step by step, I walked toward the operating room. When I finally saw Mom’s body, tears flooded out of me like a broken dam. In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. There was no one left in this world who would love me unconditionally. I told his parents and everyone else to go home—I didn’t want anyone staying with me at the hospital. I stayed with Mom all night. The next morning, I called a funeral home to arrange for Mom’s body and plan the service. Watching them take Mom’s body away, I pulled out my phone and texted Ryan. [Mom passed away.] I so badly wanted him to call right away, to rush to my side and hold me. But my message went unanswered, like a stone sinking in water. I let out a bitter laugh and wiped the tears from my face. I’d loved Ryan for ten years—love at first sight, five years of friendship, three years of dating, and two years of marriage. I’d grown used to having him around. But from now on, I’d have to get used to life without him.

The first time I saw him, he was wearing a white shirt—tall and straight with a bright, sunny smile. The day he proposed, I was overjoyed. When he slipped the ring onto my finger, I whispered: “For the rest of my life, it’s only you.” His smile back then was so gentle, burned into my memory forever. Before we got married, he doted on me. After we married, I never stopped loving him. But he never showed affection in public. He always said, “Our life is ours alone. What others think doesn’t matter.” I knew he was lying. Because when he was with Celeste, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other—around campus buildings, on the field, along tree-lined paths. I was jealous, but I never pushed him to change. I believed Celeste was in the past—he was my husband now, the one I’d spend my life with. But that belief crumbled every time he left me to be with Celeste. I grew more and more exhausted. Loving him was draining. Celeste called me: “Ryan was so tired from working late last night. I didn’t want him driving home, so he stayed at my place.” “But don’t worry—nothing happened between us.” Hearing the smugness in her voice, I replied calmly, “Oh. Anything else?” Celeste didn’t expect that reaction. After a pause, she said, “Jade, you’re pretty self-aware. You know making a scene won’t help.” “Thanks for the compliment.” I responded politely, then hung up and walked into a law firm down the street. I saw Ryan again the next day. I was packing up Mom’s belongings when he walked in. “Let’s go visit my parents today. I’ll change quick—wait for me, and we’ll head over together.” I didn’t object. Harold and Margaret had always been good to me. Ryan came out quickly after changing. I was shocked. He usually took at least half an hour to get ready. Then I saw Celeste waiting in the car, and it clicked. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. Celeste gave me a sweet smile. “Jade, hop in! I’ll drive today. I’m joining you guys to visit his parents.” I turned to Ryan. “You’re bringing her?” Ryan quickly explained, “Don’t overthink it. Celeste was alone and feeling down, so I invited her to come along.” “It’s just a meal, anyway. We’ll head back right after.” I smiled and opened the back door. He was right—it was just one meal. And it would be the last. “Ryan, sit up front with me so we can talk,” Celeste eagerly opened the passenger door. Ryan glanced at me hesitantly, but only for a second before getting in. I used to worry he’d feel lonely in the back seat and always told him to sit up front. But he refused—he’d rather sit alone in the back. It didn’t matter anymore. I stared out the window as the scenery blurred past, replaying the call I’d gotten earlier from the funeral home. Mom’s body was ready. Tomorrow was her funeral. They asked if I wanted to add anything to the service, suggesting I discuss it with my husband since spouses typically play an important role in funeral arrangements. But watching Ryan laugh and chat with Celeste up front, I had no desire to ask him anything. I pulled out my phone and texted the funeral home. [Remove all parts of the service involving the son-in-law. Keep everything else the same.]

“Jade, who are you texting?” Ryan suddenly asked. I didn’t even look up. “A friend.” He didn’t ask again, but for the rest of the drive, he kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror like he wanted to say something. I ignored him, keeping my eyes fixed on the window. In the past, I used to chatter nonstop during drives. He’d always act annoyed and uninterested. Now I didn’t want to talk to him at all. Harold was happy to see me, but the second he saw Celeste get out of the car, his face turned cold. Celeste pulled two bottles of wine from the trunk. Ryan smiled. “Dad, Celeste brought these for you.” “I don’t want them.” Harold grabbed the bottles and threw them to the ground. Celeste’s face fell. Her eyes watered, making her look pitiful. “Dad, what are you doing?” Ryan shouted, then turned to comfort Celeste. “What am I doing? I don’t have a son like you anymore. Now get out of my house.” Harold’s face was bright red with anger. I said gently, “Dad, don’t say things you’ll regret.” “Stop playing the victim. This is all your fault.” Ryan snapped at me. “You run to Dad with every little thing. Jade, when are you going to grow up? Tattling like a child?” I dropped my smile and nodded. “You’re right. I won’t do it again.” Harold was furious. He pointed at Ryan and shouted, “Why are you yelling at Jade? She didn’t say a word to me. I’m the one disowning you.” “Apologize to her. Now.” Ryan’s jaw tightened, his features sharp with tension. Harold raised his hand like he was going to hit him. I quickly pulled Harold inside. Ryan followed with Celeste. “Jade, I know you’re upset I didn’t come home on Christmas Eve. I can explain.” Ryan’s face was tense, his tone sharp. “I was working late that night. Celeste was worried I’d be too tired to drive, so she let me stay over. That’s all.” “Nothing happened between us. Don’t jump to conclusions.” “Got it.” I replied flatly. Whether anything happened between Ryan and Celeste that night no longer mattered to me. “Don’t you have anything to ask me?” Ryan pressed. “No.” I turned toward the kitchen to help Margaret with dinner. Ryan never cooked—he said he hated the smell of grease. After we got married, cooking became my responsibility. “Jade, don’t worry about that. Let’s talk.” Harold stopped me. He lit a cigarette and sighed. “I’m sorry about your mom. Ryan was completely out of line. As his father, I take responsibility. If you want to divorce him, Margaret and I will support you.” “I wouldn’t ask you to forgive him. I just hope that even after the divorce, you’ll still think of this as home. Come visit anytime.” I stared at my fingertips and said nothing. Ryan’s face turned pale. “Dad, what are you talking about? Why would Jade divorce me? What did I even do wrong?” “And what happened to her mother?” Harold’s hand shook as he held his cigarette, his face contorted with anger. “You still have the nerve to ask? Your mother-in-law always treated you like her own son. And you?” “She had a brain hemorrhage on Christmas Eve. She was in the hospital fighting for her life. Where were you?” “When she died, where were you?” “You have no sense of responsibility. If Jade hadn’t stuck up for you today, you wouldn’t have been allowed through that door.”

Crash. Ryan shot to his feet, his chair toppling backward. “Dad, what are you talking about?” He turned and stared at me. “Jade, tell me. Is he lying? He has to be lying.” I looked into his eyes calmly. “It’s true. My mom passed away. On Christmas Eve.” “That’s impossible.” Ryan’s voice cracked. “Jade, why didn’t you tell me something this important?” “Mom was in the hospital and you didn’t call me?” “Enough.” Harold’s voice boomed. “Jade did call you. I called you too. But what did you do?” Harold pointed at Celeste. “You were busy with some woman. You hung up on me before I could even finish. And now you’re blaming Jade? How did I raise a son like you?” “No. No, that’s not—” Ryan’s forehead glistened with sweat. “Dad, I didn’t know. I swear. I thought—I thought Jade was just complaining to you, trying to guilt me into coming home.” “Jade, you know how much your mom meant to me. How could I not care? I really didn’t know.” “If I had known, I would’ve dropped everything to be at the hospital.” Celeste spoke up in a soft voice. “Jade, don’t blame Ryan. It’s my fault. I saw how exhausted he was and told him to rest. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me.” “I’m sorry.” She stood and gave me a small bow. I stayed seated and said calmly, “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame Ryan either. Mom just had bad luck. So did I.” “Dad, it doesn’t look like we’ll be having lunch today. I’m going to head out.” I stood and walked toward the door. “Wait.” Ryan grabbed my wrist hard enough to hurt. “Where is she? Where’s your mother’s body? I need to kneel before her and beg for forgiveness.” I gently pulled my wrist free, my movements soft but firm. “You don’t need to. My mom probably doesn’t want to see you.” When Ryan and I got married, Mom was so happy. She told me more than once to treat him well. She said it wasn’t easy for two people to make it to marriage—that we could argue, but we should never say cruel things, and never talk about divorce lightly. I took it to heart. After we married, I never fought with him. I swallowed every bit of hurt. But what happened on Christmas Eve made me see the truth: love isn’t just about compromise. No matter how much I gave, how much I bent, if our hearts weren’t in the same place, we’d never make it work. In Ryan’s heart, Celeste always came first. His love was never really mine. “Jade.”

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I found a secret dark room in my husband, Dr. Julian Thorne’s, study. Inside, dozens of glass jars held specimens of my body parts. From a fingernail he’d snipped when we first held hands, to a strand of hair he’d collected after our intimacy last night. And in the center of the room, a recording device looped my own voice. “Help me, Julian, please, no, it hurts…” It was the recording of my pleas from the operating room when I had my unexpected miscarriage last month. Just as I was about to flee, a cold touch grazed the back of my neck. “Elara, you finally found it.” “Every time you cry, I want to turn you into the most perfect specimen.” My blood ran cold. Suddenly, another woman’s seductive laugh cut into the recording: “Julian, when will you get me your wife’s vocal cord specimen?” I spun around. Dr. Julian Thorne stood at the dark room’s entrance, a scalpel in his hand. “You… you’ve been collecting these all this time?” My voice trembled. “Since our wedding day.” He took a step forward, his movements silent on the floor. “You said you loved all of me, including my professional habits, remember?” I was a medical student, and he was the youngest forensic professor. Our union had once been called a match made in heaven. But now, I just felt sick to my stomach. “What about that recording?” I pointed at the device in the center of the room. “The recording from the day of my miscarriage, why is Serena Bellwether’s voice on it?” Serena Bellwether was his ex-girlfriend. She had returned from overseas three months ago and started working at the same hospital. Julian stopped, the tip of the scalpel resting against his fingertip. “Serena is just interested in my research.” He said it nonchalantly. “She wanted a complete vocal cord specimen for a teaching model. I thought yours would be perfect.” “Perfect?” I almost laughed through my tears. “Julian, I’m your wife!” “So?” He tilted his head, a dismissive smile playing on his lips. “Elara, you’re too emotional. Science requires sacrifice.” He took another step closer. I instinctively recoiled, my lower back hitting the cabinet displaying finger specimens. That little finger in the jar still had my favorite nude pink nail polish on it. It was from a cut I’d accidentally gotten while cooking last month. “You want to turn me into a specimen? Like those corpses?” Julian smiled. But now, I just felt a chill run down my spine. “You’re different from them.” He spoke softly. “You’re a living work of art, and I will make you my most perfect masterpiece.” His hand reached for me. I screamed, shoved him away, and rushed for the dark room door. But it was locked. “Let me go!” I pounded frantically on the door. “Julian, you’re insane! This is illegal!” He hugged me from behind, his lips against my ear. “The law only protects the living.” “And here, to me, you’re already a beautiful corpse awaiting dissection.” I struggled violently, my nails scratching his hand. Beads of blood surfaced, and he actually lowered his head to lick them away, his eyes filled with a disturbing fascination. “Even your struggle is beautiful.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, time’s up.” Before I could ask, I felt a sharp sting on my neck. A needle pierced my skin. A cold liquid pushed into my veins, and my limbs began to go numb. Before my vision blurred, I saw the dark room slowly open. Serena walked in, wearing a nurse’s uniform and pushing a cart of surgical instruments. She leaned over me, her smile cruel. “Elara, don’t worry, Julian’s technique is excellent, it won’t hurt.” “Once you’re a specimen, you can stay by his side forever.” Julian took the scalpel she offered, its blade resting against my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. In my final moments, I heard him say: “In your next life, don’t be my wife again.” “What’s too easily obtained is always tempting to destroy.”

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in our master bedroom. My body felt no numbness. I sat up abruptly and rushed to the mirror. My neck was intact, no knife marks. “Elara?” Julian’s voice came from the bedroom doorway. I flinched. He was holding a breakfast tray, his eyes filled with gentle concern. “Had a nightmare?” He put down the tray and walked over, reaching to touch my forehead. I instinctively recoiled. His hand froze mid-air, his eyes darkening slightly. “What’s wrong?” “N-nothing.” I forced myself to calm down. “Just dreamt something bad.” “What did you dream about?” Julian sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. “I dreamt you killed me.” I stared into his eyes, saying each word deliberately. Julian paused, then laughed. “Don’t be silly. How could I ever hurt you?” “You’re my wife, the person I love most.” His eyes were sincere when he said this, even showing a hint of doting affection. Before, I would have thrown myself into his arms. But now, I just wanted to vomit. “Where’s Serena?” I suddenly asked. “Was she here last night?” Julian’s expression froze instantly. He frowned. “She was on duty at the hospital last night. Why would she be here? You’re overthinking things again.” “I heard her voice.” I insisted. “In your study.” “My study?” Julian stood up and walked towards the door. “I’ll go check. Maybe you had a night terror and imagined things.” He left the bedroom, and I immediately followed him. Julian pushed open the study door. It was neat as usual. I walked to where he had stood earlier, carefully examining the bookshelf. In my memory, the dark room was behind the third shelf. I reached out to push it, but it wouldn’t budge. Julian hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “What’s really going on with you? Do you want to go to the hospital for a check-up?” My body stiffened. “Maybe I really am just too tired.” I forced myself to relax. “I have class today, I’ll go get ready.” On the way to school, I was completely on edge. “Elara!” Someone tapped my shoulder from behind. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to see my friend, Chloe. “What’s wrong with you? You look awful.” She looked at me worriedly. “I heard you had a miscarriage last week. Haven’t you recovered yet?” I froze. “Miscarriage? Last week?” “Yeah, last Wednesday.” Chloe looked at me strangely. “Dr. Thorne even took time off to be with you. We were all so jealous.” I grabbed her hand. “What’s the date today?” “April 18th. Why?” In my memory, yesterday was April 25th. I had gone back a week. I couldn’t focus in class all day. My mind was filled with those glass jars and Julian with the scalpel. When the bell rang for dismissal, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Julian: “Serena is treating us to dinner tonight to celebrate her promotion to attending physician. Remember to come.” I stared at my phone screen, my fingers cold. If my memory was real, this dinner was a trap. If I didn’t go, Julian would get suspicious. After a long hesitation, I replied with an “Okay.”

When I arrived at the restaurant, they were already there. They sat by the window, heads bowed, looking at the same phone. Serena was shaking with laughter, and a smile played on Julian’s lips too. The sight stung my eyes. “Elara’s here.” Serena saw me first and waved enthusiastically. “Come quickly, sit down!” “Have you been waiting long?” I sat down next to Julian. “No, we just got here too.” Julian naturally wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead. “Why do you still look unwell? Didn’t you get enough rest?” His actions were gentle and intimate. But I felt his hand linger a little too long on my waist. Like he was measuring me. “Maybe the medication hasn’t worn off yet.” I said blandly, staring into his eyes. Julian’s smile froze for a moment. “What medication?” Serena interjected, her eyes probing. “Post-miscarriage recovery meds.” I shifted my gaze. “Julian prescribed them. He said they were good for my body.” The truth was mixed. Julian had indeed prescribed the medicine, but I knew its real effect. It made me drowsy; it was probably more than just for recovery. “Dr. Thorne is so thoughtful.” Serena propped her chin on her hand, her gaze lingering on Julian’s face. “Whoever marries you will be incredibly happy.” Julian didn’t refute her, just smiled. During dinner, Serena kept talking about amusing hospital stories. Julian listened intently, the atmosphere so harmonious it was as if *they* were the couple. Serena suddenly turned to me. “I heard you’re preparing for your forensic certification exam? If you need materials, I can give them to you. Julian helped me compile a complete set back then.” “No, thanks.” I said calmly. “Julian already prepared them for me.” “Mine are different though.” Serena blinked. “Mine have Julian’s handwritten notes, lots of exclusive insights!” She was provoking me. I looked at Julian, but he was just cutting his steak, not even looking up. “Those are old materials. Elara can just use the new ones.” Halfway through the meal, Serena said she needed to use the restroom. As she stood up, she knocked over a red wine glass, spilling all the wine onto my dress. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, “I didn’t mean to! Elara, are you okay?” Julian immediately helped me wipe it off. But his movements suddenly paused, his gaze fixed on my calf. I looked down. There was a faint scar there, from a fall when I was a child. In my memory from last night, the skin in this spot should have already been made into a specimen. “What’s wrong?” Julian snapped back to attention, his eyes complex. “Nothing, just remembered that scar of yours. It’s quite unique.” His finger traced the scar. The touch was gentle, but it sent shivers down my spine. “I’ll go clean up.” I pushed Julian’s hand away and walked towards the restroom. “Elara.” Serena’s voice came from behind. I looked up, seeing her leaning against the doorframe in the mirror. “Yes?” “Just wanted to remind you.” She smiled at me. “Some things aren’t yours, and it’s pointless to force them.” “Like what?” I turned around, facing her directly. “Like Julian.” Serena took two steps closer, lowering her voice. “Why do you think he married you? Because you look like me, your voice sounds like mine, even the way you cry is like mine.” “He’s using you as my stand-in, silly girl.” Her words were like daggers, piercing my deepest fears. Instead of breaking down, I smiled. “Is that so? Then why didn’t he just marry you directly?” Serena’s expression twisted for a moment. She leaned into my ear, her breath chilling. “Because he couldn’t bear to turn me into a specimen and display me in his dark room.”

When we left the restaurant, Julian’s car was already parked at the entrance. “Where’s Serena?” “She has her own car.” Julian got into the driver’s seat and leaned over to fasten my seatbelt. “What do you want to do tonight? See a movie or go home and rest?” His fingers brushed my collarbone, lingering for a second. Again, that measuring touch. “Let’s go home, I’m tired.” “Elara, you seem a bit off today.” He suddenly said. “Do I?” I looked out at the fleeting streetlights. “You’ve been avoiding me since this morning.” Julian’s voice was soft, yet it carried an oppressive weight. “Did Serena say something to you?” I turned, looking directly into his eyes: “She said I was her stand-in.” Julian’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. The car braked sharply at a red light. “You believed her?” His voice was low. “I don’t know what to believe, Julian. Do you love me?” I had asked him this question many times. Before, he would always kiss me gently and say, “Of course I do.” But this time, he was silent. The red light turned green, and the cars behind us honked impatiently. Julian restarted the car, and after a long moment, he said: “Yes.” “But there are many kinds of love, Elara.” “My love for you might not be what you’re looking for.” His words were ambiguous, but they confirmed my suspicions. Back home, Julian said he was going to his study to prepare for tomorrow’s class. I watched him pause briefly in front of the bookshelf, then push aside a thick medical dictionary. The bookshelf silently slid open a crack. I dug my nails into my palms, using the pain to stay alert. After he entered the dark room and the bookshelf closed, I quietly crept to the study door. Faintly, I could hear voices from inside. “She’s starting to suspect something.” Serena’s voice. “At the restaurant today, the way she looked at me was off.” “Your provocations were too obvious.” Julian said, his tone cold. “I told you not to tip her off.” “Just a few more days, until I collect the last of the data.” “Are you sure it will work this time? Didn’t it fail last time?” “Last time was an accident.” Julian’s voice suddenly turned cold. “Her pregnancy messed up my plans, all her body data changed. But now she’s back in optimal condition.” “So that’s why you made me provoke her miscarriage?” Serena asked. “You’re really ruthless, Julian. You’d even abandon your own child.” “Science requires sacrifice.” Julian repeated the chilling words. “Besides, we can always have another child later. A perfect specimen, once missed, is gone forever.” I slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, my hands and feet icy cold. Tears streamed silently down my face, but I bit my lip hard, refusing to make a sound. “So when do you plan to make your move?” “Tomorrow night.” Julian’s voice was excited. “I’ll inject her with the modified anesthetic. That way, she can experience the entire process while conscious, but unable to resist.” “The vocal cords are yours. The rest is all mine.” “Deal.” The conversation in the dark room continued, but I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I rushed into the bathroom and vomited violently into the toilet. Wiping away my tears, I picked up a scalpel with trembling hands, aiming it at my heart. The moment the blade pierced my heart, I showed a twisted smile. “You want my body as a specimen? Then I’ll show you both that the living are far more terrifying than the dead.”

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My husband’s secretary has been spending wildly with my credit card, and she even called me a useless housewife at a French restaurant. Furious, I froze that card, leaving her unable to pay the bill. The restaurant manager had her sent straight to the police station. When my husband found out, he quickly explained with a smile: “She’s new to the corporate world. She doesn’t know the rules yet. I’ll teach her a lesson.” Later, on my birthday, my husband took me to that same French restaurant. After ordering a table full of expensive wine and dishes, he said he needed to step out to take a call. But I waited until nearly closing time, and he never came back. Just as I pulled out my card to pay, the restaurant manager told me: “Miss Serena, your credit card has been frozen.” “Frozen?” This was the card Callum gave me. Before we left, he even took my card away, saying that since it was my birthday, he had to be the one to pay. I was so touched at the time, secretly congratulating myself for finding such a good husband. But now he’s nowhere to be found, and he hasn’t answered any of the dozens of calls I’ve made. If this card doesn’t work, I’m going to be in serious trouble. The manager’s expression shifted from respectful to impatient as he looked at me. “Miss Serena, do you have any other card you can use?” “Let me be clear. We don’t allow people to dine and dash here. You knew that from last month, didn’t you?” Of course I remembered. Last month, Callum’s little secretary used the card he gave her to spend recklessly and called me a useless trophy wife. Could it be… An ominous feeling crept up my spine, making me suspect this was Callum’s way of getting revenge for his secretary. Just as that thought crossed my mind, I heard the sound of heels clicking outside. I quickly turned to look and saw Callum walking in with his arm around his secretary, who was glaring at me with pure hatred. Behind them followed a group of friends, all wearing expressions like they were about to watch a show. “Serena, don’t you just love punishing people who can’t pay their bills?” “Well, now you can experience firsthand what it’s like when you can’t pay.” As soon as he finished speaking, the whole room erupted. “I heard this Serena came from a poor family. She just got lucky that Mr. Callum took a liking to her. Now her own husband is here with his new flame to watch her humiliation.” “Ha ha ha ha! See that? This is what happens when you climb the social ladder using just your pretty face.” “Exactly! How long can her youth and beauty last? When a rich man finds a younger, prettier girl, that’s when her life of luxury comes to an end.” I slowly clenched my fists, the rage from being humiliated boiling over instantly. Just as I suspected, Callum had set me up to get revenge for his secretary. Callum held Lily’s hand and walked to the front, pulling out a chair to sit down. “Lily, don’t worry.” “However Serena humiliated you that day, I’ll make her pay back double.” Lily’s face lit up with delight, and she instinctively turned and kissed Callum on the lips. “Thank you, Callum.” Then she looked at me with a provocative stare: “Serena, you’re nothing but a pretty face. What gives you the right to freeze my card?” As soon as she finished speaking, she grabbed an expensive bottle of red wine and smashed it at my feet. “Crash!” Wine splashed onto my face, making me look even more pathetic. “Ha ha ha ha! You useless piece of trash! Now I have Callum to pay for me. I can smash as many bottles as I want and he’ll cover it. But you? You’re screwed.” Callum also looked at me with mockery: “Don’t glare at me like you want to kill me. If you have money, you can pay and leave.” “Ha ha ha ha! Like she has any money to pay!” “Those dishes and the opened bottles of wine add up to an amount that’s way beyond her reach.” “She’s always lived off Mr. Callum’s money. Without him, she’s nothing.”

To completely humiliate me, Callum stood up with a smile and swept his cold gaze across the room. “Anyone who dares to help Serena out of this situation is my enemy and will be making an enemy of me.” Everyone knew the Reeves family was the wealthiest in Manhattan. No one dared to offend Callum. A few business partners who had good relationships with me were about to stand up to help me out. But when they heard Callum’s words, they quickly sat back down, afraid Callum would notice their movement. “See that? Mr. Reeves is serious.” “He loves his little secretary more than his wife!” “Right! I thought since they were legally married, Mr. Reeves was just angry for the moment. But this is real.” “With his threat, who would dare help Serena?” I lost control in my anger and walked over to grab Callum’s hand, demanding answers. “Callum, are you really going to humiliate me for this woman?” Callum slapped me across the face with his other hand. “Slap!” “Yes!” I couldn’t believe it as I turned back to look at Callum. We’d been married for three years and were known as a loving couple. He was the one who pursued me when I first came to Manhattan. At our wedding, he made vows, saying he would be loyal to me forever, never betray me, and love me with his life until the end of time. But now? It’s only been three years, and all those vows, all those beautiful memories, have been destroyed by his cold, cruel actions. Just like outsiders said, someone who married into a wealthy family based on looks has no dignity. Once a younger, prettier mistress appears by his side, the luxurious life of being a wealthy man’s wife comes to an end. But Callum had no idea that when I willingly married him years ago, it wasn’t for his family’s money. It was because I loved him. Facing my bloodshot eyes, Callum pulled out a tissue and disdainfully turned to wipe the hand he’d just used to hit me. “You knew I cared about that secretary, but you had to go and freeze her card.” “Serena, if you can’t pay the bill next, I’ll have the manager strip you naked and make you run out of this restaurant.” As soon as he said this, the whole room cheered, everyone staring at me with mocking and greedy eyes. “Mr. Reeves is really willing to go this far. For his new lover, he’s making his own wife strip naked.” “Right?” “Soon she won’t be his wife anymore. Looks like after tonight, Serena will be kicked to the curb.” “Ha ha ha ha! Let’s stop talking and just watch the show.” The middle-aged wealthy men looked at me with amusement and mockery. “Tsk tsk tsk, I want to see if she has a good body. Ha ha ha ha!” My face burned with the fire of humiliation. Before we left, Callum took all my cards, making me let my guard down. All I had left was this expensive designer dress I was wearing. I had no money to pay the bill. And my phone had died. I realized now that Callum had planned all of this.

“It’s getting late, Serena. The restaurant is waiting for you to pay so they can close.” “Don’t tell me you can’t pay!” “What are we going to do? If you can’t pay, you’ll be detained and sent to the police station. Oh wait, isn’t that what you did to me?” Lily pulled out a cigarette, put it in her mouth, lit it, and started smoking. She didn’t forget to blow the smoke in my face, her arrogant expression making me unable to resist raising my hand to swipe at her. The scene instantly became chaotic. Callum, feeling sorry for Lily, quickly had his bodyguards rush over and throw me out. “Serena, stop it right now!” “What? You’re allowed to play with others, but they can’t play with you in return?” I stared at Callum with bloodshot eyes. The only reason he was able to rise to the top as the wealthiest man in Manhattan in just three years was because of my help. I used my family’s power and connections to help him fight his way to the top. Even dangerous people from the underground who wanted to cause him trouble backed off because of me. I had planned to tell Callum about my background tonight on my birthday, to tell him I wasn’t just a commoner. I was the heir to the first of New York’s four founding families. I also planned to take him home to meet my father and mother. I just didn’t expect people’s hearts could change so quickly. I misjudged him. I overestimated his character. “Callum, are you really going to make me leave this restaurant humiliated and disgraced?” Callum laughed coldly: “What else? You think I set all this up for nothing?” Lily, emboldened by the bodyguards, punched me in the face: “You bitch! Either you can’t pay and get sent to jail, or you strip naked, bite this piece of steak, and crawl out of here on all fours like a dog.” “Oh, and the difference between the two? The first one you get to keep your clothes on. The second one you’re naked and have no dignity left. Ha ha ha! Hurry up and choose. I can’t wait!” Facing dozens of pairs of eyes watching this spectacle, I clenched my fists and looked at Callum without any emotion. “Fine. Since this is what you chose, bankruptcy is on you.” As soon as I finished speaking, Lily burst out laughing. “Ah? Ha ha ha!” “Has this woman been reading too many romance novels? Does she think she’s some hidden identity billionaire?” “This woman must be so angry she’s lost her mind.” Callum also glared at me angrily. He thought I was lying too. He casually picked up a plate of food and threw it at me: “Stop your delusions about making the Reeves family go bankrupt. You? As if!” “Think about how you’re going to solve your current problem!” “Manager!” The manager understood and immediately walked over with security guards, speaking to me coldly: “Miss Serena, will you be paying cash or having someone pay for you?” Out of professional courtesy, the manager still didn’t humiliate me completely. I scanned the entire room and finally looked at a business partner I’d worked with before. We met when I was negotiating projects on behalf of the Reeves family. I walked toward her. As soon as she saw me coming her way, she quickly stood up and backed away. “Serena, don’t come near me. I don’t dare pay for you…” “Don’t be afraid. I’m not asking you to pay for me. I just need to borrow your phone.” “Can I?” “I just need to make one call to have a friend bring money over to pay the bill…” “Ha ha ha! This woman is still acting! Who in Manhattan would dare bring money over to help you pay?” “Go ahead and call. We’ll give her another half hour. If time runs out and she still can’t pay, I’ll have these fat old men strip her naked. What a billionaire has used must be good quality, right?”

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I bombed my SATs and didn’t get into college. Meanwhile, my cousin Clara got accepted into an Ivy League. When my professor mother heard the news, she was so furious she literally coughed up blood. “If I’d known you’d turn out to be this useless, I should’ve just let your aunt swap you when you were born. I wish Clara was my daughter instead.” When I was born, Aunt Helen gave birth to Clara at the same hospital. While my mom was unconscious after delivery, my aunt bribed a nurse to switch us. My crying woke Mom up. Like a protective wolf, she ignored her postpartum injuries and fought to get me back. But now, Mom said she regretted it. My depression spiraled. I jumped from the balcony. When I woke up, I’d gone back to the day the nurse tried to switch us. This time, I stayed quiet. Because this was what Mom wanted. She didn’t pick me this time. But later, Mom held my emaciated body and cried tears of regret. She just wanted to hear me call her “Mom” one more time. Falling from a building hurts. My head felt like it had split into pieces. Before I could process what happened, I found myself as a baby again. I could see my mother’s pale, sleeping face right beside me. The air was thick with the smell of blood and disinfectant. I’d been reborn to the moment right after my birth. Suddenly, a nurse in white appeared at the door, holding another red-faced baby. She moved quickly and quietly, swapping me with the infant in her arms, then rushed toward the door with me. I remembered—Mom had told this story countless times in my previous life. She said I’d almost been switched, but at the crucial moment, I’d cried loudly and woken her up. Mom got me back, but the violent movement caused severe tearing. She had to stay in the hospital for three months and developed an embarrassing condition. When she got emotional, she’d leak urine. For a distinguished professor who valued perfection and dignity, this was unbearable trauma. But I’d been reborn. I could change everything. I kept my mouth shut tight. I wouldn’t make a sound. But unexpectedly, the baby on the bed started crying. The nurse holding me froze. I whipped my head toward Mom’s direction. The room was dark. From this distance, I couldn’t see clearly, but the person on the bed didn’t move. The nurse bolted for the door. In her panic, she didn’t control her footsteps, but even as she burst through the door, Mom still didn’t wake up. The nurse hid outside, watching nervously. She saw Mom sit up and skillfully pick up the baby, humming a lullaby. The melody drifted out of the room, and my whole body went rigid. Mom didn’t know any lullabies at this point. In my past life, when I was three and wouldn’t eat, Mom had specifically learned that song to coax me. So Mom had been reborn too, hadn’t she? She’d pretended to sleep, waiting for the nurse to finish the swap. So what Mom said in my past life wasn’t just angry words. She really did want Clara as her daughter. Mom didn’t want me anymore. No matter how heartbroken I was, I was still switched and given to Aunt Helen. Aunt Helen didn’t care for me the way she’d cared for Clara in my previous life. Because I was just a fake. She even deliberately collected her breast milk. “If Victoria runs low on milk, she can give the baby mine. Can’t let her daughter go hungry.” I was so hungry I could barely stay awake. Finally, someone pried my mouth open and stuck a bottle in. I sucked once and realized it wasn’t milk—just bland rice water. When I stopped after a few sips, Aunt Helen pinched my bottom hard. “How dare you be picky? Who told you to be born to Victoria? Don’t drink it then—starve to death!” I wailed from the pain. This scene would repeat often in the house. Dad’s parents were dead. He only had Aunt Helen. So after she got pregnant out of wedlock, she moved into my parents’ house. When Mom and Aunt Helen were both taking care of babies, my aunt would find ways to make me cry. I was already a premature baby. In my past life, with Mom’s careful care, I’d still grown up weak and sickly. Now, drinking rice water, I quickly got sick from malnutrition. I ran a fever and broke out in rashes. Aunt Helen ignored me, sitting on the couch drinking soup the housekeeper made. The only person who could save me—Mom—wasn’t home. That morning, Clara had choked on milk and refused to drink anymore. Mom panicked and had Dad drive them both to the hospital. Eventually, I passed out completely. Even my survival instinct faded.

I thought I would die. When I woke up, I was in the ICU. I gulped oxygen, and my body slowly regained sensation. Outside, Dad was scolding Aunt Helen so harshly she didn’t dare talk back. After that, Aunt Helen didn’t dare feed me rice water anymore, but she still couldn’t bear to waste her breast milk on me. She bought the cheapest formula instead. My life was temporarily spared. Mom named Clara after me—Clara Rivers, the name I’d had in my past life. I felt heartbroken that I’d even lost my name. Aunt Helen casually picked mine. “This one will be Mia.” Mom didn’t say much, just looked at me with complicated eyes. At six, Clara and I attended the same elementary school. Classes started at 7:30 AM. The difference was, Clara got to go to school with braids Mom had personally done, carrying a warm breakfast, riding in Dad’s car. I had to make breakfast for Aunt Helen, clean the house, and only leave with ten minutes to spare under her impatient glare, walking fifteen minutes to school. First week of school—late every single day. I had to stand during morning study hall as punishment every time. Whenever I asked to leave earlier for school, Aunt Helen would beat and scold me. That’s how I became the “bad kid” in my classmates’ eyes and the cautionary tale teachers warned others about. One day, Mom forgot some documents and came back early. She saw this exact scene: Little me standing on a stool cooking, while Aunt Helen sat in the living room watching TV, eating fruit and yelling that I was trying to starve her. Mom froze. Our eyes met. Mine were filled with tears, but also hope. Aunt Helen treated me badly because I wasn’t her child. But I was Mom’s child. The next second, Aunt Helen had her excuse ready, pulling out her so-called “tough love” philosophy. “I’m just disciplining the child. Doing hard labor at this age helps her appreciate studying later.” Mom was easily convinced. She grabbed her documents and left without looking back. I stared at her retreating figure, frozen. Then Aunt Helen beat me again. But I couldn’t feel the pain. Because my heart hurt more. In middle school, girls started developing. Aunt Helen hand-sewed four bras and put them all in Clara’s closet. When I asked for one too, her mocking gaze swept over me, and the next second she reached out and twisted my tender chest cruelly. Tears streamed down my face from the pain. She screamed: “Already acting like a slut at your age? Trying to seduce men, is that it?” I never dared ask again. I could only fold tissues flat when she wasn’t looking and tape them to myself with clear tape. It gave me a tiny bit of security. But middle school had PE class, and the uniforms were loose. When I ran, sweat loosened the tape, and the tissues fell out in front of everyone. Boys stared at me strangely. Girls wanted nothing to do with me. After that, rumors about me spread through school. When I went to the bathroom during breaks, boys would deliberately bump into me. When the teacher noticed, she contacted my guardian to come to school. I stood outside the office. When Aunt Helen arrived, she greeted me with two loud slaps across the face. Students in the hallway stopped to stare. Teachers came out of the office at the sound. My face burned. The humiliation nearly drowned me. But Aunt Helen didn’t stop. She pulled my hair and my collar, screaming: “Seducing people at your age—you’re disgusting!”

She started pulling at my shirt, trying to strip me in front of everyone. I clutched my clothes desperately, sobbing hysterically. Finally, a teacher who couldn’t stand it anymore stepped forward to stop her and brought her into the office. After calming Aunt Helen down, the teacher got to the point and pulled out my exam results. “The rumors will die down. Kids forget fast. Just buy Mia a couple of bras and it’ll be fine.” “The real issue is Mia’s grades this time… They’re not good…” When we got home, Aunt Helen took my report card to complain to Mom. “I’m so jealous you have Clara. Great grades, obedient, adorable.” “Not like Mia. Today the teacher called me to school—I’ve never been so humiliated.” Mom’s eyes flashed with relief and pride, though she offered comfort. “Learning is mostly about natural talent. She’ll get there eventually.” In Mom’s eyes, I was the one without talent. But she didn’t know—in my past life, my grades were bad because of bullying. After Mom found out and transferred me to an advanced class, my grades still didn’t improve. Because by then, my best friend Luna had already been bullied to death. This time, I swore I’d protect her. After the first monthly exam results came out, Luna was targeted again. Because she’d scored first place by a huge margin. Using my knowledge from my past life, I quickly became friends with Luna. I also discovered something shocking—the source of the bullying was Clara. Luna had been threatened to put Clara’s name on the next exam, or the bullying would continue. I gave her advice: don’t score as high next time. But keep studying hard in daily life. By the second monthly exam, Luna only scored twentieth in class. Meanwhile, my grades skyrocketed. I became second in the entire class, drawing all the fire. When I came home with my good grades, Dad, Mom, Aunt Helen, and Clara were sitting together like a tribunal. Clara had bombed this exam. She cried pitifully and implied that I’d cheated with the help of the first-place student. I didn’t care what the others thought. Even when Aunt Helen hit me with a broom, I didn’t move. I just stared at Mom without blinking. Soon, Mom looked at my report card and delivered her verdict: “She definitely cheated. You don’t have the talent. Your grades couldn’t improve this fast.” “She did something wrong. A beating will teach her a lesson.” A bitter smile twisted my lips. What was I even hoping for? In the eyes of someone who doesn’t love you, nothing you do is right. But in the middle of the night, I found a bottle of painkillers lying quietly outside my door. Mom’s regular medication. I bit my lip and brought it into my room. Aunt Helen insisted I’d cheated and deliberately starved me as punishment. I fainted from hunger at school. This time, both Aunt Helen and Mom came. Facing Mom’s questioning, Aunt Helen instinctively threw me under the bus. “She stole money from me, so I cut off her allowance. Don’t you have some savings of your own? How could you faint from hunger? I think she’s faking!” I explained weakly, my face pale: “Clara took my savings.” Mom called Clara over. Clara looked aggrieved: “You’re lying! You gave your savings to those delinquent boys in class.” With her real daughter backing her up, Aunt Helen tried to cement the accusation that I was dating delinquents. But this time, Mom stopped her with a serious expression. “Clara, you can’t say things like that. A girl’s reputation is important.” “If the meal card is lost, just report it and get a new one.” Aunt Helen was a bit afraid of Mom and mumbled into silence. They all left. I was lying there with an IV drip, eyes closed, when I felt movement under my blanket. I opened my eyes just in time to see Mom tucking money under my covers. Caught in the act, Mom jerked her hand back and turned to leave. But I called out to her: “Mom!” Her back stiffened, but she said stubbornly: “I’m not your mother. Don’t call me that.” But I persisted: “I heard Clara call Aunt Helen ‘Mom’ in private. What if there was a mistake? What if you really are my mother?” Mom’s voice sounded flustered: “Everyone wants an excellent daughter. Stop overthinking. I only have Clara as my daughter.” But “Clara Rivers” was the name you gave me in my past life, Mom. I made up my mind not to let Mom keep deceiving herself. Since she wanted an excellent daughter, I’d become excellent. Becoming first place by a landslide should be enough, right?

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Everyone knew I loved Kevin to the point of self-abasement. For ten years, I swallowed every insult, shielded him from every scandal, even gave my own blood, all for him. They called me the biggest joke in high society, the woman who shamelessly clawed her way into an engagement. Kevin thought so too. Until the day of our wedding, when I smiled, slipped on the ring, and leaped from the cliff. This wedding was never about love. It was because the System told me: “Marry Kevin, and you can bring your true love back to life.” Jennifer POV Late at night, the piercing ring of the phone echoed through the apartment. I jolted awake. On the other end, Kevin’s friend shouted, his voice laced with panic. “Jennifer! Kevin’s in trouble, he’s at Downtown General!” I was there in under fifteen minutes. Outside the hospital room, Kevin’s friends were laughing and joking, their voices jarringly loud. “Kevin’s such a madman! Wing-suiting just to get Sarah’s souvenir back, and he broke his leg!” “Seriously! All for a dare! I bet Jennifer, his little shadow, is already on her way. Her nose is sharper than a bloodhound’s.” “You can’t even get rid of her. Kevin says even if he beat her with a golf club, she’d crawl back, crying.” The words seeped into my ears, but my face remained expressionless. From inside the room, I heard Kevin’s scoff, his tone dismissive and utterly confident. “She loves me too much; she’d be lost without me.” I lowered my gaze, then pushed the door open. Silence fell for a moment inside, then burst into a chorus of laughter. “Kevin’s little pet has arrived!” “Jennifer, you’re quick! We thought you’d need to cry in the car for a while.” Kevin lay on the hospital bed, his left leg in a cast. His handsome face was pale, and his eyes, when they met mine, were arrogant and icy. He didn’t speak, just lifted his chin, signaling his cronies to continue. A man stepped forward, scrutinizing me playfully. “Jennifer, Kevin got hurt because of you. He’s not happy. Shouldn’t you do something to make it up to him?” “Yeah! Do something! Do something!” The jeers grew louder. Someone pointed out the window, making a cruel suggestion. “You said you’d die for Kevin, didn’t you? If you’re so brave, blindfold yourself and walk across to that scaffolding on the building next door.” I followed his gaze. Between the two towering buildings, a narrow, temporary steel plank bridge had been erected for construction. The night wind howled, making the plank sway precariously a hundred feet up, looking fragile and deadly. The sheer malice of their request sent a chill through me. “What, too scared?” I was about to refuse when Kevin finally spoke. Leaning against the headboard, he used my decade of devotion as a weapon, each word a cruel blow. “Jennifer, you said you loved me, that you’d die for me. Didn’t you?” My heart plummeted. Our wedding was in a month. For this wedding, I had endured for ten years. I couldn’t let everything fall apart at the last minute. Under their eager gazes, I nodded softly. “Okay.” Kevin’s friends erupted in excited whistles. Someone immediately produced a black silk ribbon and roughly tied it over my eyes. Darkness enveloped me. The humiliation nearly choked me. I was pushed onto the windowsill, my trembling toes reaching for the cold steel plank. Below, Manhattan’s lights twinkled, a dizzying abyss. Around me, mocking laughter and the click of phone cameras. I took a deep breath, stepping onto the plank, inching forward. The wind picked up, violently shaking my slender body in the air. Halfway across, just as I felt I was about to be blown off, Kevin’s furious roar stopped me. “Crazy woman! Get back here!” My movements froze. “What are you waiting for? Planning to fall and die there, polluting my view?” Kevin’s voice dripped with impatience. He commanded imperiously, “Go to the Upper East Side. Line up and buy me those limited-edition croissant donuts from that place! Don’t come back without them.” I felt like a prisoner granted clemency, scrambling back in a hurry. I pulled off the blindfold. The others looked disappointed, while Kevin turned his face away, refusing to meet my gaze. I said nothing, just turned and left. The trendy dessert spot had a long line. I waited for three agonizing hours before finally securing the daily limited-edition treat. When I returned to the hospital, the room was empty except for Kevin. He was asleep, brows furrowed, as if in the throes of a nightmare. I placed the dessert on the nightstand, about to leave, when I heard his mumbled dream talk. I instinctively leaned closer. “Sarah… don’t leave…” He whispered, his voice laced with a vulnerability and plea I’d never heard from him. “Just turn around, and I won’t get married, Sarah…” The words were a blade that sliced through my heart. My body froze, blood draining from my face. Ten years. I’d chased this man for ten years, from a naive girl to the laughingstock of high society. I’d sacrificed every shred of dignity for a wedding a month away. Yet, in his heart, the wedding I’d earned with ten years of blood and tears meant less than a single glance from Sarah. Despair choked me. Just as I felt the pain crush me, a cold, mechanical voice resonated in my mind. “Host emotional fluctuation abnormal. Warning.” “Task progress: 99%.” “Task objective: Marry Kevin.” “Task reward: Revive William.” “Host, please stabilize emotions and complete the final 1% of the task.” The voice was like a bucket of cold water, pulling me back from the brink of collapse. I slowly closed my eyes, memories flooding my mind. Ten years ago, I didn’t belong in this world. My childhood sweetheart and fiancé, William, and I were about to get engaged. But in an accident, William saved me and fell into a deep coma, becoming a vegetable. Doctors said his chances of waking were slim. In my despair, the voice of the System appeared. It told me that if I crossed into this world and completed the task of marrying Kevin, I would receive the reward of waking William. So I came. In this world, my identity was an orphan deeply in love with Kevin, pursuing him by any means necessary. I knew Kevin hated me because the “first love” of his heart, Sarah, was my stepsister. But I didn’t care. Kevin’s love and hate were merely background noise to the task. All his torment and humiliation were just steps I had to endure to complete my mission. My heart had died the moment William fell into a coma. The only belief that sustained me was completing the task and returning to William’s side. I opened my eyes again. The vulnerability and despair in them had faded, replaced by numb determination. I looked at the sleeping man on the bed, my nominal fiancé, my gaze as calm as if I were looking at a stranger. Only one percent left. As soon as the wedding was over, I could go back. William, wait for me.

Jennifer POV The next morning, I woke to the sunlight. Kevin was propped against the headboard, on a FaceTime call with Sarah. His profile, bathed in the morning glow, seemed softer than I’d ever seen it. “Yacht party? Okay, I’ll be there.” He answered in a low voice, a smile playing on his lips. The call ended, and the softness on his face vanished, replaced by his usual cold demeanor. “Go handle the discharge papers,” he commanded. My heart tightened. I instinctively pleaded, “The doctor said you need a few more days of rest…” “What?” Kevin shot me a cold glance. “Are you not listening to me now?” His threatening gaze sent a chill down my spine. I was terrified he’d cancel the wedding in a fit of pique. I could only obey. “Yes, I’ll go right away.” That evening, at the exclusive yacht club at the private marina. Sarah had organized the party to celebrate Kevin’s miraculous survival. As soon as they arrived, Sarah, champagne flute in hand, greeted him with a beaming smile, though her eyes hid a subtle sharpness. “Kevin, you’re finally here! You’re so late, you deserve a penalty.” No sooner had she spoken than waiters pushed in a dining cart laden with dozens of exquisite French dishes. My gaze swept over the food, and my heart sank. Several dishes were heavily garnished with crushed peanuts. Kevin was severely allergic to peanuts; if he accidentally ingested them, the consequences would be dire. “You have to try a bite of each dish to show you’re truly sorry,” Sarah cooed, offering a silver fork to Kevin. Kevin, knowing it was a trap, glanced at Sarah, then actually reached for the fork. “Don’t!” Without thinking, I snatched the fork from his hand. Under everyone’s astonished gazes, I straightened my back and declared, every word clear, “I’ll eat them for him.” Kevin froze. Sarah’s smile faltered, then turned playful again. “Miss Jennifer truly loves Kevin, doesn’t she?” A ripple of laughter spread around us. I ignored them, picked up the fork, and under everyone’s watchful eyes, tasted every single dish. I have a mild seafood allergy, and these dishes contained a lot of shrimp and crab. For the sake of the wedding, I had to endure it. Next, guests, for various reasons, kept bringing new dishes. “This one’s a chef’s special, Kevin, try it?” “This white truffle was flown in specially from Italy, a welcome gift for Kevin!” Each time, I ate them in his place, my expression unchanging. I didn’t know how much I’d eaten, only that my stomach was churning, and my throat burned. Finally, red rashes began to erupt on my skin, itching agonizingly. I made an excuse and rushed to the restroom, vomiting until nothing but bile remained. The woman in the mirror was deathly pale, her lips bloodless. I splashed cold water on my face, forcing myself to calm down. I couldn’t leave him out there alone. What if Sarah tricked him again, and he touched an allergen? What about the wedding a month from now? I couldn’t bear the thought. I quickly tidied myself, endured the discomfort, and hurried back to the party. As I approached, I heard Sarah’s mocking voice. “Kevin, look, Jennifer truly loves you. She’d risk her life for you.” Kevin’s voice held a hint of subtle smugness. “Naturally,” he chuckled. “Why else would I marry her?” Hearing that, my heart settled a little. At least he still remembered the wedding. But the next second, Kevin’s words plunged me back into despair. He turned to Sarah, his voice low, with a hint of a question, “Sarah, is our agreement still on? If you just…” “Oh, what are you talking about?” Sarah smiled, cutting him off. She pulled a stack of elegant invitations from her clutch and began handing them out. “Everyone, I’m getting married next month too. You absolutely have to come.” She smiled beautifully as she handed out the invitations, finally placing one directly in front of Kevin. “Kevin, you and Miss Jennifer absolutely must come.” Kevin’s face darkened, turning as black as a storm-laden sky. He stared fixedly at the gilded invitation, which clearly bore Sarah’s name and Anthony’s name. Anthony was the heir to another prominent family in the city, and Kevin’s long-standing rival. The air in the party grew cold. Kevin’s anger twisted into a cold laugh. He snatched the invitation, tossed it to the ground without a glance, and stormed off. I hurried after him. I followed him into his car. Through the window, I watched Sarah being carefully escorted into another sports car by her fiancé, Anthony. The sight stung my eyes.

Jennifer POV The engine roared. Kevin watched Sarah get into Anthony’s car, rage consuming him. He floored the accelerator. He repeatedly and dangerously cut off their car, reckless, as if playing a game of chicken on the highway. I had just recovered from my allergy-induced vomiting and was thrown around, dizzy and nauseous. My face grew even paler. The chase led to the marina, where both groups boarded speedboats. On the sea, the pursuit continued. Kevin, like a madman, clung to Anthony’s boat. “Boom!” A deafening crash as the two speedboats collided violently. The immense impact threw me forward. Without thinking, I lunged, shielding Kevin with my body. Excruciating pain shot through me, yet I remained conscious. The boat was sinking. Fighting through the pain, I fumbled to smash the cabin window. Seawater immediately flooded in. I swam out of the cabin, firing a distress signal, and then, with all my might, dragged the unconscious Kevin onto a life raft. As soon as Kevin regained consciousness, he shoved me away, swimming frantically toward the other sunken boat, screaming, “Sarah! Sarah!” He saw Anthony alone, scrambling onto a life preserver, fleeing without a backward glance. “Anthony! Where’s Sarah?” Kevin roared. Anthony’s face was ashen. He selfishly defended himself, “I’m the sole heir to my family; I can’t die!” Kevin ignored him, diving into the water. He pulled Sarah, who was unconscious from the collision, out of the sinking cabin. Just as they surfaced, the speedboat behind them, due to fuel leakage, exploded and caught fire, flames reaching toward the sky. In the hospital corridor, Kevin anxiously stayed by Sarah’s side the entire time, ignoring me, despite my serious injuries and soaked clothes. I was a ghost. Medical staff wheeled me past him, but he didn’t even lift an eyelid. Outside the emergency room, the doctor emerged, his expression grave. “Miss Sarah has internal organ damage, severe hemorrhage, and she has rare RH-negative blood. The blood bank is critically low.” “Take mine!” Kevin immediately stepped forward, without hesitation. “No!” I cried out, struggling off another hospital bed and rushing to the doctor. “He’s injured too, he shouldn’t donate blood! Take mine! I know I’m also RH-negative!” The doctor looked at my pale face and injuries, frowning. “Miss, your body is also very weak; you’re not suitable for blood donation.” But I was stubbornly insistent, gripping the doctor’s arm, my eyes resolute. “I insist. Use my blood.” Kevin looked at me, his expression complex. The operating room light stayed on for a long time. After the blood donation, my already weak body felt even worse. Nurses helped me out of the operating room, each step feeling like walking on a blade. I looked up and saw Kevin in the next room, tenderly caring for Sarah, who had just been out of danger. He was feeding her water and wiping the sweat from her forehead. That tender look, a luxury I’d chased for ten years and never caught. I suddenly felt a wave of weakness, my vision blurred, and I almost fell, saved only by the nurse beside me. “Why do you do this to yourself?” the nurse sighed. “He doesn’t have you in his heart at all.” I tried to force a smile, my face tight, probably managing a grimace worse than a cry. I didn’t speak, just lowered my head and continued bandaging my arm. A voice in my heart repeated, forcefully, No, I don’t love him at all. I only knew I had to do this. Only this way could the wedding proceed smoothly. And only this way would my William have hope of returning. In the following days, Kevin, naturally, stayed at the hospital. I often caught glimpses of him hurrying down the corridor, or carrying a basin to fetch water. He seemed utterly devoted. That day, I was leaning against the wall near the nurses’ station when I heard Sarah’s delicate voice drift from the half-open door: “Kevin, the nurses here are so clumsy…” After a moment of silence, I distinctly heard her next words, “I want Jennifer to take care of me.” A brief quiet. Then Kevin’s calm voice: “Okay.” Soon after, footsteps stopped in front of me. I looked up and saw Kevin. He looked at me and said in a commanding tone, “Go take care of Sarah.”

Jennifer POV I became Sarah’s official private caregiver. On the first day, Sarah pointed to a plate of lobster, sweetly complaining her fingers might get hurt, and demanded I peel out the whole lobster meat with my bare hands. I silently complied. Lobster shells are hard and sharp, and my fingers were soon raw and bleeding. I peeled one after another until my fingertips were numb with pain. When Kevin pushed the door open, I instinctively hid my hands behind my back. He didn’t notice, walking straight to the bed to pick up a bowl of soup, spooning it gently into Sarah’s mouth. The sight was like a needle piercing my heart, yet no blood flowed. The next day, Sarah deliberately dropped a diamond earring into the hospital garden’s frozen pond. “Oh dear, it slipped,” she feigned panic. “Jennifer, could you please find it for me? Kevin gave it to me.” It was deep winter, and the water was covered with thin ice. Without a word, I stripped off my coat and jumped into the pond. The icy water made me shiver, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. I dived repeatedly, searching, occasionally surfacing for air. From the hospital room window, I could see Kevin massaging Sarah’s shoulders, both of them laughing and chatting. It wasn’t until dusk that I found the earring in the pond’s muddy bottom. When I crawled ashore, my hands and feet were numb with cold, and my lips were purple. On the third day, Sarah had someone bring in a valuable long-haired cat. I am severely allergic to cat fur. Sarah pretended not to know, pointing to the luxurious cat tree in the corner, covered in fur. “Jennifer, the cat tree is filthy. Would you mind cleaning it, please?” she asked with a smile. I said nothing, and walked over. In the enclosed space, fine fur particles floated everywhere. Soon, I began to have difficulty breathing. My skin became red and itchy, my eyes bloodshot and tearing. I felt like I’d been thrown into boiling water. I fought the suffocating sensation, determined to clean the cat house until it was spotless. When I stumbled back into the hospital room, Kevin was sitting on the sofa. He saw the red rash on my face and my nearly swollen-shut eyes. His brows furrowed. I thought he might show a little pity. But he didn’t. He just spoke coldly, his voice laced with disgust, “Go clean yourself up. Don’t scare Sarah.” Those words cut deeper than any knife. As I turned to leave, I heard Sarah and her friends’ barely suppressed laughter behind me. “Look at her, she’s a mess! So funny.” “She’s got the life of a maid, yet she dreams of being a billionaire’s wife.” “I bet Kevin will get bored and dump her soon, then get back with Sarah.” Kevin didn’t reply. His silence, surprisingly, made me feel a little better. At least he hadn’t confirmed it himself. The day Sarah was discharged, the sky opened up, unleashing a torrent. Before getting into the car, Sarah suddenly grabbed Kevin’s arm, pointing at me. “Kevin, I don’t want to ride in the same car as her.” Kevin didn’t even look at me, simply commanded, “You take a taxi back.” With that, he closed the car door, and the black Bentley sped away from me, splashing mud. I stood in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone in an instant. I stretched out my hand, but couldn’t hail a single cab. Finally, I had no choice but to walk back in the rain, step by arduous step. Three hours. When I finally reached the empty mansion, I looked like I’d been pulled from the water; not a single spot on me was dry. The days of exhaustion, torment, and this downpour utterly broke my body. I fell ill, burning with a high fever that wouldn’t break. In my feverish sleep, I seemed to return to my own world, seeing the person I longed for day and night. William was holding me tenderly, his warm hand stroking my forehead. “William…” I couldn’t hold back anymore. Ten years of accumulated grievances and longing burst forth. I clutched his sleeve, like a helpless child, sobbing uncontrollably. “I miss you so much… I hurt so much… I almost couldn’t go on…” “Jennifer.” A cold, hard voice ripped me from my dream. I painstakingly opened my eyes. Through my fever-blurred vision, a tall figure sat by my bed. It was Kevin. His face darkened, his eyes churning with an anger and a scrutiny I couldn’t decipher. He stared at me, demanding, word by word. “Who is William?”

Jennifer POV The moment Kevin demanded an answer, my entire body tensed. Despite my severe illness, I forced a smile and lied without thinking. “William is my brother. We were inseparable. He passed away many years ago.” Kevin stared at my face, his gaze sharp, trying to find a crack in my expression. He seemed angry. He walked out, and the door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the room. Only then did I finally relax, slumping back onto the bed. Just a little more. A few days later, just as I began to recover, Kevin took me to a gala. When we arrived, I realized it was Sarah’s birthday celebration. The ballroom was magnificent, filled with high society. As soon as Kevin arrived, he left me behind, walking straight to the evening’s main attraction. Sarah, in her couture gown, looked absolutely stunning, like a princess. Kevin stood by her side, shielding her from unwanted attention, adjusting her dress, attending to her every need flawlessly. I became the laughingstock of the entire event. Guests intentionally or unintentionally avoided me, isolating me in a corner, as if I were something dirty. I was content to be ignored. I found an inconspicuous corner and watched the whole charade with a detached gaze. The gift-giving segment began, and the atmosphere grew lively. Kevin presented a velvet box. When he opened it, a gasp swept through the room. It was a necklace custom-made with rare pink diamonds, sparkling brilliantly under the lights, priceless. Sarah gasped in surprise, her eyes turning to Kevin, as she sweetly said, “Kevin, you’re too extravagant.” Kevin’s face showed a faint smile as he personally fastened it around her neck. The whispers of the crowd filtered into my ears. “Did you see that? Kevin only has Sarah in his heart.” “So what’s Jennifer? A lovesick fool throwing herself at him. So embarrassing.” “Exactly, she just shamelessly latched onto an engagement. Has Kevin even looked at her properly? Pathetic.” The words were sharp as needles, but I paid them no mind. I picked up a glass of champagne, raising it toward Kevin and Sarah’s direction, silently mouthing a blessing. As long as Kevin didn’t publicly cancel the engagement, he could give Sarah all the gold and silver, even his heart, and I wouldn’t care. I never loved him anyway.

Jennifer POV Halfway through the party, Sarah excused herself to the garden for some fresh air. Soon after, her sobbing voice came through a phone call, thick with tears. “Kevin, save me, someone pushed me into the pool… I’m drowning…” Kevin’s face changed instantly. He didn’t even hang up the phone, just dashed out. My heart tightened with a bad feeling. I immediately put down my drink and followed him. Deep in the garden, I indeed saw Kevin pulling a drenched Sarah from the pool. “Kevin…” Sarah nestled in his arms like a frightened bird, her cries sharp and broken. She extended a trembling hand, pointing to me not far away. “It was Jennifer, she was jealous you were good to me, so she pushed me.” She choked, each word like a knife, “I know you love Kevin, but how could you use such a vicious method…” Kevin was furious, his eyes on me as if he wanted to devour me whole. “Jennifer, you are truly wicked!” He didn’t listen to my explanation, announcing, word by word, “Our engagement is hereby canceled!” I panicked. My mission was going to fail! “No… it wasn’t me…” I rushed forward, clutching Kevin’s suit sleeve desperately, trying to explain, “Kevin, believe me, it really wasn’t me!” “Please, don’t cancel the engagement. You can hit me, curse me, just don’t cancel the wedding.” Kevin roughly shook me off, with such force that I fell directly to the ground. He carried Sarah away, without a backward glance, leaving my cries to echo behind him. I scrambled up regardless, chasing him out of the ballroom, only to watch his car speed away into the distance. I collapsed to the ground, but the man never once looked back. From that day on, Kevin refused to see me. For the sake of the mission, I could only resort to the most desperate method. Day after day, I stood outside the tightly shut ornate iron gates of Kevin’s mansion. The sky opened up, unleashing a torrent. The temperature plummeted. I was soaked to the bone, shivering in the rain, yet I dared not move an inch. “I know I was wrong. Please, don’t cancel the wedding.” I repeated the words into the intercom, my voice already hoarse. I stood in the rain for three days and three nights, until my legs swelled and my consciousness blurred. On the evening of the third day, the tightly shut gates finally opened. Kevin stood at the entrance, frowning as he looked at me, drenched and swaying precariously. His expression was complex. “Do you have no self-respect?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Seeing a glimmer of hope, I immediately seized the opportunity, tears welling in my eyes. “No… I don’t care about dignity… As long as I can marry you, I’ll give up anything…” Kevin stared at me for a long time. Finally, he conceded in a low voice, “If you want my forgiveness, go make amends to Sarah.” He took me to the alley behind an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. A winding path was covered with broken glass, glinting sharply in the setting sun. Kevin’s assistant stood at the entrance, relaying Sarah’s words. “Miss Sarah said if Miss Jennifer can walk this path barefoot, she will forgive you.”

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Julian Blackwood’s mistress set him a monthly KPI: at least 10 sexual encounters. This month, he was too busy and only managed 9. His mistress responded by going on a one-day hunger strike. To appease her, Julian actually begged me to comfort Tiffany: “Aria, please go explain to Tiffany. Tell her I haven’t touched you all year. Don’t let her be jealous or upset.” My eyes widened. Julian and I hadn’t been intimate in three years, but his request was beyond ridiculous. I agreed to help him, but scoffed, “You should really see a doctor. If you can’t even manage 10 times a month, what kind of mistress would want you?!” I called Tiffany’s phone, my voice calm: “Julian has belonged to you for a long time, and he’ll only belong to you from now on.” After I hung up, Julian tried to soothe me: “You’re always in my heart too, Aria.” But I didn’t care anymore. We’d been separated for almost two years and would soon finalize our divorce. However, Tiffany wasn’t pleased by my explanation. She didn’t believe Julian hadn’t been with me! So, Julian came back to me, looking dejected, asking for help again. I asked him directly: “Julian, what exactly do you want me to do?” “How about you go to the hospital for a vaginal exam? The doctor can prove you haven’t been intimate in a long time. Don’t worry, I’ll arrange for a female doctor.” He paused, then continued, “Tiffany’s got a one-track mind; she won’t believe it unless you do this. Just bear with her.” A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, and I recoiled instinctively, putting as much distance between us as possible. Even though I’d long since given up on him, hearing him make such a request for his mistress still sent a chill through me. He completely disregarded my feelings, pressing on: “Just think of it as a regular check-up.” The disgust in my chest intensified. I clutched my chest and sneered at him, “Julian, let’s just get divorced already!” I exploded at him. Knowing he was in the wrong, he didn’t push it further, his tone softening as he tried to placate me: “Don’t be angry! You’re always the most important person to me. Just calm down for a bit.” He always said that. He’d say I was the most important, then climb into his mistress’s bed again and again. He just presumed his money and power meant I’d put up with anything! After all, I’d fought my way through a lineup of his admirers to become Mrs. Blackwood. What Cinderella, once she’s in the castle, would ever want to leave? He didn’t know that this Cinderella had already saved enough to be financially independent. Julian’s phone rang again. He answered it. I heard Tiffany crying hysterically: “Julian! I became your mistress at 18. You promised me you’d be with me 10 times a month and never touch your wife! You’re a liar! I’m breaking up with you!” Tiffany Reed was the most spoiled and demanding of all the mistresses he’d ever kept. But Julian doted on her the most. Even a year ago, when his mother passed away unexpectedly, Julian left the funeral early on the very day to be with Tiffany. He left me to manage the funeral alone. In the middle of the night, during the funeral, Tiffany sent me taunting photos. They were all of her and Julian in various explicit poses in bed. From that day on, I knew Julian wasn’t just having a physical affair; he was truly in love! He loved her so much that he was willing to trample all over my dignity.

“Tiffany! You won’t believe anything I say, fine! Tomorrow, I’ll have a doctor examine her! Then you’ll believe me!” Julian’s voice on the phone snapped me back to reality. I never imagined that after my clear refusal, he would actually agree to such a thing just to placate Tiffany! The next morning, Tiffany arrived with a male doctor. Julian was stunned. He told her, “No male doctors, it has to be a female doctor!” His face hardened, a flicker of jealousy in his eyes. He might be cheating himself, but he still kept a tight leash on me. If I spoke to another man for more than two sentences, he’d go ballistic with jealousy. Tiffany scowled: “What’s the difference between a male and female doctor? It’s just a quick check-up anyway!” Julian coaxed her, “Let’s just get a female doctor instead.” Tiffany reluctantly agreed. I walked silently to Tiffany, then slapped her across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are?! You’re just a mistress! What right do you have to interfere with my and Julian’s bedroom affairs!” Just to spite her, I even deliberately added: “The only reason Julian didn’t hit your monthly KPI is because he spent 17 nights with me this month, and he was too exhausted!” Seventeen times! That colossal number was like a bombshell to Tiffany. She instantly broke down, tears streaming down her face, and screamed at Julian: “You still won’t admit it! She just admitted it!” Julian was furious with me. He scolded, “What are you talking about?! Aren’t things messy enough already?!” Tiffany, clutching her stinging face, ran off in a rage. Julian immediately chased after her to explain. The ironic thing was that as he ran after Tiffany, he ordered his butler: “Give Mrs. Blackwood her medication!” Ever since his affair started, I’d developed panic attacks, unable to be touched by him. The moment he touched me, I’d feel sick and suffocated. Twice, I even had to be rushed to the emergency room. For years, he’d spent a fortune on various medications to “cure” me. He’d often reassure me, “I’ll make you better. Once you’re well, we’ll have a child.” What he didn’t know was that I’d poured all those medicines down the drain. I hadn’t taken a single dose. I counted down the days, yearning for the day I could leave. On my way to apply for an overseas visa, Julian’s people suddenly intercepted me. I was confined to the mansion, then forced onto a cold, hard examination table. Five female doctors roughly restrained my arms and legs. As I struggled frantically, one of the female doctors’ video calls rang. The next second, Tiffany’s voice came through. “Make sure you examine her thoroughly! Miss Reed, we’re professionals in this field.” I roared with uncontrollable rage, “Tiffany, I’ll kill you!” “Julian, I’ll make you pay for this!” I knew he had to be with Tiffany. Sure enough, his voice came through the phone: “Aria, Tiffany’s pregnant. I’m 35, don’t make things difficult for me, okay?” His meaning was clear: he wanted me to cooperate with the examination. He had wanted to be a father since he was 25. We once had a child too, but Julian had fertility issues, making it difficult for me to conceive. He took a lot of medication and underwent treatment for several years before I finally got pregnant. That time of nurturing a new life was the happiest period Julian and I ever shared. But just as I was nine months pregnant and about to give birth, Julian fell for Tiffany at first sight. Tiffany was young, beautiful, and vibrant. He completely fell for her after just one motorcycle ride. That day, Tiffany posted a photo of the two of them on a motorcycle online. It caused a stir, with countless netizens praising them as a perfect, made-for-each-other couple. I stumbled upon the video three days later. The shock triggered a difficult labor, and I lost our child. The loss of our child didn’t make Julian change his ways. He cried and promised me, “It was just an accident, we’ll have another child.” Julian didn’t know that from that moment on, I had completely given up on him.

Now he had another child, and he’d undoubtedly do everything to keep it! He knew that child loss was my deepest wound, yet here he was, asking me to endure such humiliation for him and Tiffany’s baby. I screamed at him, enraged: “Julian, you heartless monster! If you dare let them touch me today, I’ll hate you for the rest of my life!” Tiffany impatiently mumbled, “Hurry up and finish the exam!” Julian also lost patience and directly ordered the female doctors: “Give Mrs. Blackwood a light anesthetic injection.” He paused, then tried to calm me, “It’ll only be for a moment, it won’t harm you.” I continued to struggle desperately, watching as the female doctors approached with long, thin examination tools, preparing to remove my clothes. A wave of terror washed over me. Another female doctor injected a thin, long anesthetic needle into my arm. I couldn’t struggle anymore and quickly fell unconscious. Sometime later, I vaguely heard that Tiffany’s call was still connected. The female doctor was still examining me. Her phone was placed near my ear, broadcasting muffled sounds. Julian’s voice was controlled and strained: “You’re pregnant, you can’t be intimate. After the baby is born, I’ll make it up to you.” “No, I won’t let you be deprived. Just be gentle, even if I’m pregnant, 10 times a month can’t be skipped.” Her coquettish voice made me intensely uncomfortable. Suddenly, she deliberately asked, “You always say you love me, so why haven’t you divorced your wife yet?!” I also really wanted to know the answer to that, and I couldn’t help but strain my ears. Julian’s voice remained unchanged: “Are you stupid? Divorce means splitting half my assets. I haven’t touched her in years, it’s practically the same as being divorced. Remember, I’m a businessman, everything I do requires weighing pros and cons.” He really knew how to manipulate young, naive women. He claimed he couldn’t afford to divorce me because of the money, but in reality, all the money he earned had been transferred to my personal account. It was even legally notarized as solely my property. I had previously, out of spite for his affair, deliberately leaked confidential business secrets of Blackwood Corp to his competitors. This caused Blackwood Corp to suffer losses in the hundreds of millions, pushing the company to the brink of bankruptcy. Even after I pushed him so hard for a divorce, he refused. He didn’t even scold me, instead trying to calm me down. I finally saw through him completely. He genuinely loved me, and he genuinely loved Tiffany. He didn’t want to lose either of us. He was greedy; he wanted one woman at home and another outside. The doctor finished the examination, took the phone from my ear, and reported: “Miss Reed, we’ve completed the examination. Mrs. Blackwood has not only not been intimate recently, but she hasn’t had any intimate activity for at least a year.” Tiffany, having received the satisfactory answer, sounded a few shades lighter: “Thank you for your hard work, here’s your payment.” They packed up their things and left. As the anesthetic wore off, a dense, throbbing pain spread below. The air was thick with the smell of blood. I tried to shift my body, and a violent surge of agony struck me. Below, and on my backside, there was sticky blood everywhere. This wasn’t any scientific examination; it was torture. An overwhelming hatred engulfed me, and within minutes, I was covered in a cold sweat from the pain. In that moment, an earth-shattering idea flashed through my mind! After several hours of pain, I finally managed to stand. Dragging my broken body, I set fire to “Cinderella’s Castle,” the mansion Julian had spent a billion dollars to buy for me.

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At my male friend Daniel’s engagement party, his phone suddenly got ninety-nine extremely explicit videos. He freaked out, wanting to delete them, but his fiancée, Scarlett, snatched the phone right out of his hand. Scarlett had always seen me as a thorn in her side, convinced there was something inappropriate going on between Daniel and me. I never thought that during the climax of the ring exchange ceremony, she would force me to connect my phone to the big screen. I broke out in a sweat, desperately holding down the screen mirroring button and trying to dissuade her. “Scarlett, these videos really can’t be played…” But Scarlett’s face twisted with venomous resentment, and she shoved me hard in front of all the guests. “Now you care this? When you were busy seducing my fiancé, why didn’t you ever consider what a day like this would bring?!” “Today, I’m going to make all our friends see how much of a slut you really are in bed!” I froze. But the main characters in those videos were clearly you and Daniel.

At Daniel and Scarlett’s engagement party, I was about to hit play, ready to display their “Our Love Story” slideshow. Suddenly, Scarlett snatched the mouse from the table and smirked at all the guests. “Today, on this wonderful occasion, on behalf of the Davies family, I invite everyone to enjoy something truly special!” Before I could react, she operated the screen mirroring and directly opened a deeply hidden folder on the desktop. I recognized that folder instantly. It was the “Private Collection” that Daniel, due to a cloud sync error, had accidentally uploaded to my work computer three days ago. Both Daniel and I, who were working late, had been startled by it. Daniel’s face went ghost-white, and he practically begged me on his knees to delete the folder. At the time, I just assumed it was some inappropriate videos he’d downloaded from the internet, and I didn’t think much of it. Watching Scarlett’s finger about to click, I rushed forward like a madwoman, trying to stop her. “Don’t click it! Please! These videos really can’t be played!” I tried to make my voice sound earnest, even though I was already worried. “The stuff in that folder, it really shouldn’t be seen.” “There are so many family members and esteemed guests here; let’s not make a complete fool of ourselves.” “Just give me the phone, and we can talk backstage, okay?” Scarlett laughed. “Embarrassing?” “You didn’t feel embarrassed when you were seducing my man, did you?” She turned to face the guests, her eyes filled with a crazed glint. “Ladies and gentlemen, since Cassidy doesn’t want you to see it, I’m going to make sure you all see it crystal clear!” “Let’s all see just how utterly shameless this woman, who usually pretends to be so innocent, really gets in bed!” The bridesmaids in the audience started to jeer and egg her on. “Yeah! Don’t be a coward!” “Play it! I want to hear what kind of sounds a bitch like her makes!” In the corner, I saw Daniel. The groom, who should have been standing up, was hiding behind a champagne-colored pillar. His face was pale, and he was trembling like a leaf, his hand clamped over his mouth, not daring to make a sound. My heart sank. Scarlett didn’t give me any chance to explain. She slammed down the Enter key. The big screen instantly lit up. The first video began to play. The light was dim, and the camera was shaking violently. Loud, suggestive moans and gasps that made everyone uncomfortable echoed from the speakers. There were only two overlapping, blurry figures in the frame. The entire hall erupted in murmurs. Scarlett pointed at the figures on the screen, a cold smirk on her face. “Everyone, look closely!” “Whose figure could that be if not Cassidy’s?” “Daniel told me before that some women are just so trashy, they’ll practically give themselves away for free!” I looked at the blurry figure on the screen. Was that my back? If I tried to refute her now, she’d just release more. I could only grit my teeth, enduring the scornful glances from others. “That’s not me.” I offered a weak denial. Scarlett didn’t listen. “Not you? Then who the hell is it, a ghost?” “Cassidy, the evidence is undeniable, and you still want to deny it?” “It seems one video isn’t enough to make you give up.” Her finger slid the mouse again. “Then let’s have something even more thrilling!” “This next one, let’s see you try to talk your way out of this one!” Scarlett clicked on the second video file. This time, the light was much brighter. The scene shifted; it was no longer a blurry hotel room. The background showed two massive ornate pillars, and a rose-covered feature wall. The entire hall instantly went wild. Someone gasped loudly: “Hey? Isn’t that Daniel and Scarlett’s new house?” “I’ve been to their place; Scarlett had those pillars custom-made!” “Oh my god, Cassidy and Daniel were actually hooking up on their bed!”

The murmurs grew louder. Scarlett froze for a moment. She obviously recognized her own wedding suite. In that instant, the expression on her face stiffened. She whipped her head around, her eyes practically bulging out of her head, glaring fiercely at me. “You actually snuck into our wedding suite to seduce Daniel when I wasn’t home?” “That’s our bed! The bed I’m supposed to use when I get married!” Scarlett’s voice cracked with extreme rage, becoming shrill and piercing. “How could you be so trashy?!” “Messing around on someone else’s wedding bed? Aren’t you afraid of what karma will bring you?!” In her twisted victim narrative, everything became my premeditated scheme. The guests in the hall were swayed. “Oh my god, how utterly shameless is that?” “Women like her are terrifying; seriously, you gotta watch out for your friends!” Suddenly, a figure rushed out from the main table. It was Mrs. Davies, Daniel’s mother, who had always been so kind to me. She rushed up to me and slapped me across the face. My head snapped to the side, my ears rang, and my cheek stung with a fiery pain. “I treated you like my own flesh and blood! How could you betray me by sleeping with my son?!” She pointed a trembling finger at my nose. “Are you that desperate for male attention?” “You’ve utterly disappointed me! Get out! I’ll pretend I never took care of you!” I covered my stinging cheek, looking at her eyes filled with disappointment, and my heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. When I was little and bullied, she was the one who held my hand and helped me get justice. I had always depended on her. But now, even she didn’t believe me. I opened my mouth, wanting to explain. But looking at Scarlett’s enraged face, at Mrs. Davies’s disappointed eyes, and at Daniel, who was still trying to act invisible in the corner… I suddenly felt that explanations were pointless. This family is completely hopeless. Scarlett’s triumph in her eyes grew stronger when she saw me get hit. She frantically dragged the video’s progress bar. “Serves you right!” “This bitch totally deserves it!” “Don’t worry, everyone, I’m going to show you her face!” “I’m going to let everyone see how utterly shameless her expression is on my bed!” The mouse clicked loudly. The images on the screen flashed rapidly. It was all wild intertwining of two naked bodies, sweat flying. But precisely because of the camera angle, only the woman’s back or a side profile obscured by hair was visible. No frontal view. The more Scarlett searched, the more agitated she became, fine beads of sweat appearing on her forehead. She frantically rummaged through that folder. “Why is it all backs?!” “Daniel, that incompetent idiot, couldn’t even manage to film a proper frontal shot?!” She cursed as she clicked on the third video. The screen image jumped. This time, it was inside a car. A cramped space, a shaking camera, wild moans and muffled grunts… Through the car window, the blur of passing streetlights was visible. It was the back seat of Daniel’s unmistakable black SUV. Everyone recognized it. Scarlett’s eyes grew even redder. “Car sex? Wow, Cassidy, you really get around, don’t you?” “You usually act so detached and sophisticated at the office, but you like this kind of kink?” I ignored her humiliation. While everyone’s attention was on the big screen, I secretly pulled out my own phone. This was my last chance. And my final ultimatum to Daniel.

I dialed Daniel’s number. Daniel, hiding behind the pillar, clearly hadn’t expected me to call him then. The phone rang only once before it was answered. But before I could speak, a hand suddenly reached out and snatched my phone. It was Scarlett. “Trying to call for help?” She looked at Daniel’s name displayed on the screen and sneered. “Perfect, he’s right here.” “I’d love to hear what kind of sweet nothings you two cheating trash have to whisper to each other!” She didn’t hang up; instead, she directly pressed the speaker button. “Daniel!” Scarlett roared into the phone, “Speak!” Through the speaker came Daniel’s barely suppressed voice, filled with terror. “Scarlett! Don’t play it anymore!” “Please! Turn it off! You really can’t play it!” “Someone’s going to get seriously hurt if you don’t stop!” The entire hall erupted in chaos. That was practically an admission of guilt! If the people in the video weren’t him and Cassidy, why would he be begging like that? “You’re protecting her?” “Even now, with the evidence right in front of us, you’re still protecting this slut?!” Scarlett roared into the phone, tears streaming down her face. “Daniel! I’ve been so good to you, and you’re begging me for her sake?!” “You’re afraid she’ll be shamed? Afraid she’ll be socially ruined?” “But did you ever think about my feelings?!” Daniel on the other end of the phone was still babbling incoherently, “No! I’m not protecting her! It’s for us…” “Shut up!” Scarlett didn’t want to hear any explanations. She raised the phone and smashed it hard onto the red carpet in front of her. The phone screen shattered. Scarlett breathed heavily, her eyes scanning the entire hall fiercely. “The more Daniel doesn’t want me to play it, the more I will!” “I’m going to make Daniel realize what happens when you betray me!” I looked at the shattered phone on the ground, my eyes cold. Scarlett had completely lost it. She frantically clicked the mouse. Each click was accompanied by her hysterical running commentary. “This one! The background looks like a movie theater restroom!” “Cassidy, aren’t you grossed out? You’d actually go that low?” The screen flashed, full of pixelation in the dim light. “And this one! An outdoor tent!” “You two went camping? Was it last year when I was away on that business trip?” “Oh, great, the moment my back was turned, you two were out in the wilderness getting it on?” The guests in the audience, initially shocked and embarrassed, slowly became numb to the spectacle. Some even held a secret excitement. Countless phones were raised. Some were recording, some were live-streaming. Flashlights flickered on and off, making it hard to keep one’s eyes open. That’s human nature. Since the bride herself didn’t care about the humiliation, everyone treated it as a free, vulgar show. Although the images on the screen were all blurry, obscuring faces. The sounds, however, were crystal clear. It was an unrestrained, primal outpouring of desire. Accompanied by Scarlett’s crude commentary. “Listen to that sound, how wild she gets.” “Cassidy, what happened to that detached, sophisticated act you pull at the office?” “How do you become such a complete slut in bed?” If it had truly been me today, my life would be over. But unfortunately, it wasn’t me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “344662”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn