I’d been undercover for five years with crime boss Damien Thorne. My mission was finally supposed to end. Then, my captain told me the plan was postponed. “There’s a bigger fish behind Damien. We have to wait.” I looked down in silence at the corpse on the floor. Just moments ago, Damien had killed one of his own men in a fit of rage, all to protect me. He walked over, his arm gently wrapping around my waist, coaxing me. “Don’t be scared. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you. What restaurant do you want to go to tonight?” That night, after Damien had dropped me off in my room, I sent a secure message to my captain: “Captain Miller, we really can’t wait any longer. If we do, I’ll end up marrying a crime boss.” In a derelict building, I finally met my captain, David Miller. He rubbed his temples. “Kira, I know your situation is dangerous right now. But you absolutely have to hold on a little longer.” I gave a bitter smile. He always said that. My phone rang. I answered it. I immediately switched to a sweet, saccharine voice. “Hello? Damien, honey, what’s up? I’m just getting my nails done. Okay, I’m coming right back, don’t be mad, darling.” Captain Miller was probably startled by my feigned sweetness. After all, I was known for being ruthless and cold-hearted back at the station. I shot Captain Miller a glare. “Captain, we agreed. This is the last time. Whether the mission succeeds or not, you have to let me go back.” When I returned to the mansion, I pushed open the front door to a floor covered in blood. “Kira.” Damien stood in a pool of blood, speaking unhurriedly. “They both said you were an undercover cop.” He even ran a blood-stained finger through my hair. “I wouldn’t want anyone falsely accusing you of being a cop. So, I took care of them for you.” A chill ran down my spine. Damien, do you really love me, or is this all an act? That night, after I got back to my room, I secretly called Captain Miller. “I’m coming back. After this job, I’m out. Captain!” “I know. Your flight’s already booked. As long as we catch who Damien is dealing with this time, your mission will be complete.” Captain Miller assured me over the phone. But this time, my patience had run out. “You can’t lie to me this time, Captain. Damien just killed two more people right in front of me today. I don’t even know if he’s sane anymore.” “Alright, I gotta go. Don’t blow your cover.” All I got in reply was the dial tone. I sighed, took out the SIM card, snapped it, and threw it into the bushes below. No sooner had I finished than someone embraced me from behind. “Did I scare you today, huh?” The man carried the faint scent of tropical plants. That scent always brought back memories of home. Damien knew I liked that scent. I wrapped my arms around his waist. My ear pressed against his chest, I was disappointed to hear his heart beating strongly. “I’m fine.” “It’s just… how are you going to explain killing Jax to your men…?” He gripped my chin, tilting my head up. “If I didn’t kill him, should I have killed you instead?” Damien was a complete madman, I knew that. He pressed me against the balcony railing, the night wind soft and lingering. He kissed me, just as gently. As if his hands had never held countless lives, as if he wasn’t the most notorious crime boss to the police. Until his dagger slid under my clothes, slowly moving up, then cutting open my shirt. “No matter what anyone says about you, I believe you.”

The early autumn sun was beautiful. I followed Damien to his deal. His contact this time was infamous, known as “Black Panther.” Based on the intel I passed on, the police should have already set up at the transaction site. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Damien never shied away from my presence at any major event. I couldn’t stop thinking, I could finally go home. Finally, I wouldn’t have to stand in the shadows. Finally, I could go home. I couldn’t even imagine how happy I’d be when I pulled out my gun, pressed it against Damien’s head, and told him, “I’m a cop.” Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Both Damien and Black Panther frowned. The door was kicked open simultaneously. I instantly drew my gun and pressed it against the forehead of the man sitting beside me. “I’m sorry, I’m a po—” Before I could finish, Captain Miller’s voice crackled through my hidden earpiece. “Operation terminated. Kira, you cannot arrest this man.” “…The police are here.” My pistol barely grazed Damien’s forehead, the bullet hitting the wall behind the door. Immediately, everything erupted into chaos. These anti-drug officers who stormed in weren’t actually there to catch fugitives; they were putting on a show. What’s more, their firepower wasn’t even as strong as what Damien and Black Panther had brought. “Kira, your primary mission is to protect Damien.” “He’s a key witness. We can’t lose our lead with you.” The final order came through my earpiece. Damien grabbed me and ran. The anti-drug police were lenient with Black Panther’s men, but for Damien, it was real bullets. As whistling bullets flew past, I stumbled, still wearing my heels. “Move!” Damien practically grit his teeth as he dragged me, uttering that. But I stood there, unmoving. “Go!!” His voice was almost hoarse from shouting. Amidst the commotion, I turned to where my Captain stood, gun raised, pointing it at me. I admit, for a moment. I didn’t want to be this damn undercover agent anymore. If I just took that step, if I fully exposed myself, I wouldn’t be undercover anymore. Captain Miller would surely take me back. But the moment I hesitated, Captain Miller didn’t hesitate to fire a shot at me. In that critical moment, Damien pulled me aside. But he was hit by a bullet. Instantly, blood gushed from his abdomen. Yet he still gripped my hand tightly, pulling me to run outside. “I’m sorry, Damien, I didn’t know…” But before I could finish, Molly, Damien’s step-sister, slapped me. “This is all because of you! My brother is so badly hurt because of you! You’re such a bitch!” She yanked my hair. My scalp stung from the pulling, but I didn’t dare say another word. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Damien in the backseat, his head bowed as he tended to his wound. He didn’t even glance at me. Before, if anyone dared to hit me, he would have ended their life. “I was just… so scared.” I kept my head down, explaining non-stop. There was nothing else I could do; I was back here, and I had to fight for my survival. I still had a mission. Showing weakness, playing coy — those were my usual tactics against him. He always used to go soft on me. But this time… After bandaging his wound, he finally looked up. He pulled out a gun and pressed it against my forehead. “Just now, I distinctly heard you say you were a cop. Care to explain, Ms. Kira?”

My hands and feet were bound. Everything was dark. What methods did these people use to deal with traitors? Cutting off hands and feet, drawn-out torture, throwing them into a ditch to feed rats… Until the blindfold was removed. A bare bulb swung overhead. I looked up, staring at Damien, who was wearing goggles. Was it to prevent blood from splattering on his face? He gripped my chin, forcing my head up. “Do you know what kind of punishment awaits you?” he asked me. I stared at him in silence. He gave me a small smile. “Why are you trembling?” Then, he took out his phone, set it on a stand, and aimed the camera at us. “Kira, I told you, you wouldn’t be a traitor.” …But he took the torture tool and brought it down on his own hand. I had seen many gruesome scenes, but this was the first time I was truly terrified. Then, I heard Molly say, “Damien can’t bear to punish you. But rules are rules, Ms. Kira. The mistake you made can only be borne by Damien in your place.” “I truly don’t understand why Damien ever fell in love with you!” …Soon, Damien couldn’t hold on any longer. The next second, he collapsed onto my lap. Blood was everywhere. I stared at his finger, now on the floor. Until he chuckled softly. “What are you crying for? We’ll just reattach it.” White-clad medical personnel rushed in, collected his severed finger, and lifted him onto a stretcher. Before they left, I heard his soft sigh. “Stay with me, okay, Kira? Forget your old life. If you betray me again, I swear to God, I won’t be able to take it.” Later, I was locked in Damien’s room. I remembered when he first took me in. I was wearing ragged clothes, standing among a line of girls for them to look over. He had never taken an interest in me; I had provoked him step by step. I needed to extract information, and before coming here, I had studied how to become his lover. And then he fell in love with me. “Who are you starving yourself for?” Outside, the rain relentlessly lashed against the window. The man, his hand wrapped in gauze, leaned against the doorframe, watching me. I hugged my knees. Until he walked to the bed and pushed me back onto the blankets. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to coax you?” Angry, he gripped my head, forcing me to face him. “Do I need to feed you?” I took a breath. He picked up a nearby bowl of soup, took a mouthful, and forced it into me. I just felt his body was burning hot, searing me until I couldn’t breathe. “Kira, what in God’s name are you thinking?” He stopped feeding me halfway, then gripped my throat. He asked me viciously. I stared into his eyes, deep and mesmerizing. “Damien, how’s your hand injury?” I held his fingers. The severed finger had been reattached, but terrifying scars remained at the base of each finger. And he probably wouldn’t have the same dexterity as before. As the howling wind swept into the room, I realized he was only wearing a thin shirt. “Damien, did the powerful figure behind you punish you?” I asked him softly. He leaned on my shoulder, seeming tired, with heavy dark circles under his eyes. “Yes.” “Do you regret it?” I asked him. He chuckled softly, then sat upright. “Regret what? Regret meeting you? I regret it to death. But what can I do? Could I ever bring myself to kill you?”

I was locked in Damien’s room, with no way to contact the outside world. So every night, he’d demand me fiercely. He wouldn’t let me use birth control. Finally, I couldn’t hold back and asked him, “Can you please let me go out? It’s so stifling being stuck in your room all day.” “Go out and do what? Test if your homemade communication device works?” he scoffed. I was indeed using whatever I could find in the room to make communication devices; I had to find a way to contact Captain Miller. But I made those devices in the bathroom. “Damien, you pervert, you put cameras in the bathroom!” He raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying. The next second, he smashed the device I’d hidden behind a picture frame onto the floor, gripped my throat, and pinned me against the wall. “I told you not to leave, not to leave, why do you always disobey me?” I lied: “It’s not a communication device. It’s a birthday gift for you.” Anyway, you smashed it, so you can’t tell what it is. The moment I said that, he released me. I didn’t expect him to crouch down and pick up the broken device piece by piece. “It’s a little robot.” I could only force myself to explain. But he picked it up as if it were a treasure. He wiped the dust off with his sleeve and tucked it into his chest pocket. When he suddenly pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry, Kira. My fault, I misunderstood you.” His prominent nose brushed against my neck; his emotions shifted so rapidly, I suspected he hadn’t taken his medication today. That night, as he held me close. I called his name over and over. I finally earned the right to go out. He’d been strange these past few days, often sitting alone in the living room, lost in thought. One night, he burst into my room, gripping my shoulders. “Kira, I messed up, I’m too late.” His eyes held a flicker of panic as he hugged me and cried. I didn’t know why he was so upset. He held me tightly, and after a long moment, I realized it was his body’s instinct begging for help. The next day, he was acting as if nothing had happened, kissing the corner of my mouth and wishing me good morning. I suspected his mental illness was getting worse. But it didn’t matter. I had already contacted Captain Miller. The next time we met, it would be in a police interrogation room. “Kira, I keep having the same dream lately,” he suddenly told me. “What dream?” He didn’t answer me, just smiled. Tiny kisses brushed my earlobe, and he whispered, “Kira, tell me, will we have a baby?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “343214”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn

I was reborn at the exact moment I picked up the wrong glass—the one meant for my boss, Dominic Reed, laced with aphrodisiac drug. This time, I didn’t take the wrong glass. I watched him drink it down, then dial the woman he truly loved: Celeste. In my past life, I was Dominic’s secretary. And I fell in love with him. When the drug hit my system, I didn’t care that he needed to get to Celeste. I grabbed his belt and made him stay. Not long after, I found out I was pregnant. Dominic was forced to marry me. But on the day I went into labor with complications, he got the news—Celeste had thrown herself off a building, destroyed by grief. He stormed into the delivery room and sent the doctors away. Then he watched me die. The last thing I heard was his voice: “If you hadn’t gotten pregnant, I never would’ve been forced to marry you. Celeste wouldn’t have killed herself. You deserve this…” When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I drank that drugged wine. “Iris! Call Celeste right now!” Hearing that familiar command again, I jolted awake. I’d been reborn. Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone and dialed Celeste’s number. Dominic’s face was flushed, his eyes burning with desire. The drug was kicking in. In my past life, I was the one who drank from that glass. I was the one who lost control. And it led to my death. This time, I watched coldly as he downed the entire glass. As the drug began to take hold and he looked at me with struggling, hazy eyes, I quickly finished dialing Celeste. “Dominic, just hang on. Celeste will be here in ten minutes.” The moment I closed the door behind me, I thought I heard him call my name. But I pretended not to hear. I shut the door firmly and waited at the end of the hallway. Ten minutes later, Celeste arrived in a rush. She looked at me with a complicated expression. When she saw that my clothes were intact and I was perfectly composed, relief washed over her face. Before pushing open the door, she glanced at me. “You can leave now. I don’t need you here.” I turned and took the elevator down, called a car, and went back to my apartment. The next morning, Celeste appeared in the executive office. Dominic lifted his coffee, took a sip, then casually announced to the core management team: “From now on, Celeste is my fiancée. She’s also an important future partner for the company. You will all treat her with respect.” Then he looked directly at me, pointing with his pen. “Especially you, Iris.” I nodded blankly. Celeste smirked, flashing me a triumphant smile. I pretended not to notice. I gathered the meeting notes and started to leave the office. But just as I stood up, I heard Celeste’s voice, soft and wounded: “Dominic… does Iris not want me involved in company affairs? I know how important she is to you. If she’s unhappy with me being here, maybe I shouldn’t come to the office anymore.” Her eyes glistened with tears. She looked as pitiful as possible. Dominic frowned. Before he could say anything, I replied: “Of course not. But if you’re not satisfied with me, I’ll make sure to stay out of your sight from now on.” Without waiting for Dominic’s reaction, I walked straight back to my office. Half an hour later, my office door swung open. And there he was—Dominic, staring at me with dark, stormy eyes.

Instinctively, I wanted to close the door. I didn’t want to deal with him. But Dominic blocked it with his arm, frowning as he looked at me. “Are you avoiding me? Why?” He leaned in closer, studying my face. “Are you upset? Because of Celeste?” I quickly shook my head. “No. I’m happy for you. You and Celeste finally get to be together.” His eyes flickered with something unreadable. He seemed… dissatisfied with my answer. “Is that the truth? Or are you just being passive-aggressive?” Then he scoffed. “Iris, don’t tell me you still haven’t gotten over me. Three years ago at the company party, you kissed me when you were drunk. You think I didn’t notice?” “All these years, those little hints you tucked into your reports. That encrypted folder on your computer—the personal journal? I’ve read all of it. You thought you were hiding it so well. But the way you look at me? Everyone in this company can see you’re in love with me.” “The smartest thing you ever did was never confess. Because if you had? I would’ve laughed in your face. Laughed at how pathetic and delusional you are.” He chuckled to himself, then walked over to my desk and yanked open the bottom drawer. He grabbed a thick stack of printed journal pages and scattered them across the floor, stepping on them. “Iris, I handpicked you fresh out of college. I trained you. I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? You knew I only loved Celeste. But you still wrote all this… feelings you had no right to have. Do you know how embarrassing this is? For both of us?” He leaned down close to my ear, his voice low. “I came here to tell you something. Yesterday, when I drank that wine, I saw the look in your eyes. You wanted to be the one to ‘help’ me, didn’t you? Thank God you didn’t. Because if you had, I would’ve been disgusted for the rest of my life. You’re not worth it.” My heart clenched painfully. Even though I’d decided not to love him in this life, hearing those cruel words still hurt. After warning me to stay away from him and not make Celeste uncomfortable, Dominic slammed the door and left. I didn’t want to be in their way anymore. I had to go out and finalize my transfer paperwork anyway, so I packed up and left. That night, I deliberately waited until almost 10 p.m. to return to the office to pick up some things. The moment I stepped into my office, I noticed something was wrong. My custom ergonomic chair—gone. Then I saw it. Celeste had posted on social media: a selfie of herself sitting in a luxurious office chair. The caption read: “I just mentioned my back was sore, and he immediately gave me the best chair in the whole company. This is why it’s so important to find a man with power, money, and thoughtfulness!” She’d taken the chair Dominic had custom-ordered for me. Earlier this year, when my back injury flared up, Dominic had specially approved a budget of over $20,000 for a chair designed for long hours at a desk—because I was his “chief secretary.” He used to be so good to me. He knew what it meant to show that kind of special attention to a female subordinate. And yet, he let me fall for him. But now, from his position of power, he was telling me I had no right to love him. And now? Celeste made one offhand comment, and Dominic didn’t even bother telling me before he had my chair taken away. Hearing me return, Dominic stood in my doorway and said coolly, “Celeste has back problems. I gave her your chair. Your injury’s healed anyway. Any chair will do for you now.” I didn’t even look up. “Mm,” I murmured. Dominic’s frown deepened. He stared at me intently. “Iris, didn’t you used to hate it when I was nice to other people? Why aren’t you throwing a tantrum now?” “Are you plotting something?” “I’m warning you—if you dare do anything to Celeste, I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again.” I finally looked up. “I’m not trying to do anything to anyone. I just want to be left alone. And isn’t this what you always wanted? For me to be more professional? You should be happy.” Dominic pressed his lips together. Then, almost like a sulking child, he repeated, “Fine. Fine. Fine. Iris, you’re just great.” He slammed the door on his way back to his office. Whenever he said things like that, it meant he was angry. But I wasn’t going to comfort him anymore. Whether he was angry or not didn’t matter. Because soon, I’d be gone.

The next few weeks passed simply. Celeste came to the office every day to flaunt their relationship. Dominic was still sulking. And this time, I wasn’t going to be the one to fix it. A month later, Celeste announced she was pregnant. Dominic was over the moon. He wanted to tell the whole world. The wedding was moved up immediately. Everyone in the company was gossiping about the upcoming ceremony. In this life, the one who got pregnant was the woman he actually loved. And I decided to let them have it. As soon as my transfer paperwork was finalized, I booked a flight to Italy—scheduled for the same day as their wedding. Dominic finally broke and came to find me. He waited until Celeste wasn’t at the office, then pushed open my door. He pulled out his phone, opened an email from HR, and shoved it in my face. “You applied for an overseas transfer? What, you’re so devastated by my wedding that you’re running away?” My heart skipped. But his next words eased my tension a little. When I didn’t answer, his tone turned cold. “Iris, are you done with this tantrum?” “Ever since Celeste started coming to the office, you’ve been avoiding me.” “But I’m going to marry her eventually. So what, you’re planning to keep avoiding me even after the wedding?” I shook my head. “Dominic, I think you misunderstand. I only see you as the boss who mentored me. I’m grateful. That’s all.” He laughed. Like I’d just told the funniest joke. “Grateful? Iris, everyone in this company knows you’re hopelessly in love with me. Who’s going to believe you’re just ‘grateful’? Do you even believe that yourself?” He glanced at the bookshelf in my office and smirked. “All these gifts I gave you over the years—you’ve kept them so carefully. And you’re telling me you don’t love me?” He walked over and picked up the items one by one. A limited-edition pen. A brooch. A watch. Then he said seriously: “You should put all this stuff away. I’m about to marry Celeste. You need to stop holding onto these ridiculous fantasies. We’re just boss and employee. I will never love you. And Celeste is pregnant now. If she sees these things, it might upset her. I can’t have anything happen to my fiancée or my son.” “Mm,” I said, and immediately started packing everything into a cardboard box. I was planning to get rid of it all before leaving the country anyway. Might as well do it now. Seeing how calm I was, Dominic frowned and grabbed my wrist. “Iris, can’t you be more careful? Look, you bent the nib on this pen!” I glanced at the luxury pen in his hand. It was the first gift he ever gave me—the day I passed my probation and officially became his secretary. For years, I treasured it. I wouldn’t let anyone else even touch it. But now, I’d just tossed it carelessly into a box. And Dominic couldn’t stand it. “Iris, you’re clearly devastated about me marrying Celeste. You’re running away. But now you’re pretending you don’t love me anymore?” He exhaled sharply. “Fine. Maybe it’s good for you to cool off overseas. Celeste is in a delicate stage of her pregnancy. It’s better if you’re not around anyway.” Dominic pulled out his phone and transferred $10,000 to me. “Take this. Get yourself settled in Italy. After work, travel around a bit. Take a month to clear your head. By then, Celeste’s pregnancy will be stable.” He looked at me meaningfully. “Adjust your mindset while you’re abroad. Don’t miss me too much. I’m going to be a married man. You need to get used to it. Otherwise, working together later is going to be awkward.” Dominic gave me a few more instructions about the overseas assignment. But he didn’t know—I’d been reborn. And this time, I was really leaving. On Dominic’s wedding day, both the hotel and the company headquarters were bustling early in the morning. While everyone was focused on the ceremony, I quietly grabbed my suitcase, got in a cab, and headed straight to the airport.

Dominic had changed into his wedding suit, but he didn’t leave with the groomsmen to pick up the bride. For some reason, he found himself walking to Iris’s office. He wanted to see her one last time. But when he got there, the office was empty. All her personal belongings were gone. The only thing left on her desk was a standard resignation handover checklist. His heart skipped a beat. He assumed she must have gone to the wedding venue early to help with preparations. That thought calmed him down enough to go pick up Celeste. He was beyond excited today. He was finally marrying the love of his life. And soon, they’d have a child together. Just thinking about it made him smile uncontrollably. The moment he saw Celeste, he couldn’t look away. She looked breathtaking in her white wedding gown. This was the woman he’d been in love with for years. But he wasn’t the only one staring. There was another man—Celeste’s close friend. Dominic didn’t see him as a threat. The guy was good-looking and charming, sure. But other than that? Completely mediocre. He made a point of kissing Celeste in front of the man before carrying her to the wedding car. The ceremony began. But Dominic still didn’t see Iris anywhere. He understood. She couldn’t bear to watch him marry someone else. That’s why she didn’t show up. The day after the wedding, he took Celeste on their honeymoon. He completely forgot about Iris. It wasn’t until two weeks later, when he returned to the office, that he noticed she still wasn’t there. He finally called his assistant to ask about her. That’s when he found out—she’d flown to Italy on his wedding day. He vaguely remembered approving her transfer. He’d even sent her $10,000 to help her settle in. He figured she must’ve started at the overseas branch by now. He made a mental note to remind her not to be so obvious about her feelings. Celeste was pregnant and emotionally sensitive. He couldn’t let anyone upset her. Not even Iris. A month later, during the overseas branch’s monthly report, Iris didn’t join the video meeting. Another month passed. She still didn’t appear in any international conference calls. Dominic started to feel uneasy. He finally tried calling her. But her number had been disconnected. That’s when it hit him. She’d really left. And she hadn’t even said goodbye. She’d changed her number so he couldn’t reach her. Dominic felt a strange discomfort in his chest. She’d actually let him go. She’d walked away without a word. But then he reminded himself—she probably left because he got married and was having a baby. She had no choice. Besides, he’d married the woman of his dreams. Whether Iris came back or not didn’t matter anymore. It was better this way. He could finally have some peace.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “343213”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn

After being reborn, I’m going to make sure my brother becomes an internet celebrity. My brother, Mike, would prank me daily on his live streams, all to become famous. If I dared to resist, Mom and Dad would scream at me for being ungrateful, for hindering their precious son from becoming a big-time streamer. For a mere $300 viewer challenge, Mike locked me out on the back patio. I cried, telling them my heart condition was flaring up, begging them to let me in. But hearing about my heart condition, Mike even insisted Mom and Dad keep me outside, claiming men were tougher and less susceptible to the cold. That night, the temperature plummeted from over ninety degrees Fahrenheit to fourteen below zero. A terrifying, apocalyptic deep freeze descended. I was frozen to death on that patio. Within a month, the temperature dropped to -139 degrees Fahrenheit, and the entire world was encased in ice. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Mike started his insane live streaming. This time, it was my turn to sit in a warm, safe bunker, enjoying hot food, watching them struggle in a frozen hell!

“Mom, check this out! My prank video with Alex got tons of views. I need to shoot more. Once I blow up and become a huge streamer, I’ll make a ton of money and take you guys on vacation to Florida!” In the living room, my brother Mike held up his phone, proudly showing off to Mom and Dad. Hearing that familiar voice, an involuntary shiver ran down my spine. Even standing in the scorching summer sun, I was trembling. The cold, seeping from the deepest parts of my bones, was uncontrollable—because in my past life, I was frozen alive! I pinched my arm hard until the pain hit, only then truly realizing: I had been reborn. At this moment, Mom and Dad were showering Mike with praise, calling him smart and destined for great things. Then, Mom, Linda, shot me a venomous glare. “Did you hear that, you useless piece of trash? Cooperate with Mike for the videos! If you dare to mess with my son’s chance to get rich, you’ll see how I’ll deal with you!” She’d said those exact words in my previous life. Back then, unwilling to be humiliated like that, I’d privately talked to Mike, hoping he’d switch his live stream content. But he immediately ran to Mom and Dad, teary-eyed, complaining that I was just jealous and couldn’t stand to see him succeed. Dad, Robert, instantly exploded, cursing me as a jinx, saying I was just envious that good fortune was finally coming to our family. Mom pointed a finger right in my face, calling me a good-for-nothing and trying to stop her son from becoming a huge internet celebrity. Later, for a $300 “challenge” donation on Mike’s live stream, they locked me out on the back patio. Even when I cried, saying my heart condition was acting up, begging them to let me in, they all remained indifferent. Mike even yelled excitedly, “A heart condition? Even better! Viewers love that! Dad, hurry and lock him out! My stream’s popularity is skyrocketing!” In the end, they locked me outside. I had planned to leave that house immediately after this incident blew over. But that very night, the temperature plunged from over ninety degrees to fourteen below zero, and a terrifying, apocalyptic deep freeze instantly descended. I pounded frantically on the glass door, begging them to open it. My hands were red and swollen, skin raw, but they wouldn’t budge. Desperate to survive, I threw my body against the glass door, causing cracks to appear. Mike saw it and immediately screamed at Dad to block the door with a heavy dining cabinet. Inside, where it was warm as spring, Mike, wearing a T-shirt, licked a popsicle and smiled at me through the glass. “Alex, you’re a grown man, what’s there to be afraid of in the cold?” I clawed at the door frame with my bleeding, mangled fingers, my voice hoarse. “Mike, please… my medication is inside… I’ll die if this continues…” But Mike just turned his phone camera on me and told his live stream audience, “See, guys? They say men are tough and can handle the cold. My brother here is still kicking, isn’t he?” His malice completely froze my heart. Eventually, I ran out of strength and died miserably on the patio, my tears freezing on my face. Thank goodness for this second chance. Now, outside, it was still a scorching summer day, cicadas chirping piercingly, with no sign of the apocalypse. But I knew that in exactly one week, the temperature would plummet to fourteen below zero, getting colder day by day, until it reached -139 degrees Fahrenheit, freezing the entire world solid. The fire of revenge burned fiercely in my chest. This time, I would make them pay.

I swallowed my hatred, feigning obedience, and replied, “Mom, I’ll cooperate with Mike for the videos.” My mother, Linda, seemed a bit surprised by my docility, but her harsh expression didn’t soften one bit. She still barked at me, “Useless good-for-nothing! Can’t you see it’s almost dinner time? Why are you just standing there like an idiot? Go make dinner!” I clenched my fists, my nails almost digging into my palms, constantly reminding myself: It’s not time yet, I have to be patient. I turned and quietly walked into the kitchen. As soon as dinner was ready, Dad, Robert, came home. I had just washed my hands and was about to sit down to eat when he kicked my leg. “Eat what?! The convenience store shelves are empty! Get down there and restock!” I suppressed the pain and muttered, “Okay,” grabbed the keys from the shoe rack, and headed straight downstairs without looking back. That convenience store was the fruit of my labor for many years. Since I opened it, not one of the three of them had held a proper job; they all lived off the store. The heaviest work, like stocking and organizing, was dumped entirely on me. To cover expenses, I worked another job during the day and came back at night to arrange the shelves. No one knew better than I where every single item in that store was. After quickly restocking, I grabbed an energy bar and a bottle of water and went into the back storage room. After a quick bite, I immediately pulled out my phone and called my wife, Lisa, who was away on a business trip. When Lisa’s familiar voice came through the receiver, my eyes immediately welled up. In my previous life, after my horrific death, Lisa called me countless times, but no one ever answered. She then called Dad, Robert, asking about my whereabouts. Afraid of exposure, Robert used my phone to reply to Lisa, making her believe I was still alive. Later, as temperatures plummeted and the deep freeze apocalypse arrived, Lisa anxiously texted me, asking if I could find a way to send some supplies. The weather had become terrifying, and she couldn’t buy anything where she was. At that time, Mike happened to see Lisa’s messages and immediately instigated Dad to swindle money from her. The father and son quickly agreed, fabricating a lie about me being critically injured in the hospital and needing urgent surgery funds. They even had Mike wear a wig and my clothes, pretending to be me, weakly lying in a hospital bed in a video call. Lisa believed them, frantic with worry, and immediately transferred all her savings. Once they had the money, they completely dropped their pretense. Robert called Lisa on FaceTime directly, and on camera, he and Mike openly mocked her stupidity, calling her an easily duped fool. “Your man froze to death long ago! His body’s right in the backyard!” Mike shrieked, even turning the camera to my frost-covered corpse in the backyard. Finally, Lisa was so enraged that she suffered a fatal heart attack. Recalling this, I almost crushed my phone. In this life, I would never let that tragedy repeat.

Thinking of this, my voice choked slightly as I called out, “Lisa.” Lisa, thinking I was upset about something, quickly comforted me and even said she’d come to me immediately. I shook my head, saying I wasn’t upset. In the last life, Lisa was horribly wronged by Mike and Dad; in this life, I would definitely not let that father-son duo get away with it! But I wouldn’t let Lisa get involved just yet. She just needed to be in a safe place while I arranged everything. Still, Lisa didn’t believe I wasn’t upset, so I changed the subject. “Lisa, can you rent that vacant house in the Lakeside community?” The previous owner of that house was a prepper. He’d built a reinforced bunker beneath it specifically for extreme situations. That house was in the suburbs and had been on the market for a long time. In the future, the extreme weather would reach -139 to -148 degrees Fahrenheit. By then, having food and water wouldn’t be enough; a safe shelter would be crucial. Although Lisa didn’t quite believe extreme weather would hit, especially with the sun blazing outside, she still did as I asked. After hanging up with Lisa, I contacted U-Haul. Under the guise of restocking the convenience store, I secretly transported some items from the warehouse to Lisa’s place. There was about a week until the deep freeze apocalypse. Using this time, I could move a portion each day, secretly emptying the entire warehouse. In this life, it was my turn to be in the safety of a bunker, watching their miserable end!

By the time I finished all that, it was already dark outside. I had just gone upstairs, and before I even entered the door, I heard Mike’s fake laughter. “Alex, look, this guy is just as stupid as you!” Pushing the door open, I saw the “happy family” scene. Everyone revolved around Mike, doting on him like a prince. Mike was Mom and Dad’s youngest, doted on excessively. Mom especially adored Mike, treating him like the apple of her eye. Dad also spoiled Mike, saying he was Mike’s eternal support, and with him around, Mike would never have to work a day in his life. Hearing the door open, the family turned to look at me. As soon as Mom saw me, her face hardened, and she immediately snapped, “Why are you standing there like a useless doorstop? You scared me!” Mike held his phone in one hand and a bowl of fruit salad in the other, walking towards me. “Alex, I forgot to save you any dinner. Here, have some fruit to tie you over.” I looked at Mike, who was smiling with malicious intent. In my previous life, I had unsuspectingly eaten it, only to find the fruit salad contained mango, to which I was severely allergic. My whole body broke out in hives. Mike, meanwhile, held up his phone and laughed hysterically, telling his live stream audience, “Guys, my dumb brother ate it! Look, he’s having an allergic reaction!” Mom chimed in with a laugh, “Our Mike is so smart, making this good-for-nothing look ridiculous.” Dad pointed at me, saying I looked disgusting. At that moment, my heart turned completely cold, and I realized I couldn’t stay in this family, stirring thoughts of leaving. But soon after, the deep freeze apocalypse hit. This time, if they could prank me for a $300 donation, they could certainly prank someone else for the same amount. I decided to test them. I pretended to have a stomachache, bending over and saying, “My stomach feels off, I need to use the restroom first.” But Mike insisted I eat before I went. I pushed Mike away and hurried to the restroom. Mom cursed from behind, “Always making excuses when there’s trouble! Useless!” I ignored Mom’s words, because soon she would taste the bitter fruit. In the restroom, I pulled out my phone and entered Mike’s live stream. I directly spent $300 to post a challenge task in Mike’s live stream—prank your own mom. At the same time, I commented: Getting tired of watching you prank your brother. Let’s see something fresh, prank your own mom for kicks. I wanted to see just how strong their so-called family bond truly was. Sure enough, the next second I heard Mike excitedly tell everyone, “Dad, Mom, look! Someone just donated to my stream! I’m going to be a big streamer soon!” In my previous life, Mike had been equally excited and thrilled when he received a donation notification. The whole family had also showered him with praise. Mom even clapped her hands for Mike, saying how amazing he was, how her son was different, much more useful than me. In the family’s happy and harmonious atmosphere, Mike handed the bowl of fruit salad, laced with mango, to Mom. “Mom, you should eat this bowl of fruit salad. The challenge task is to prank my own mom.” I saw Mom’s face instantly go pale.

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My best friend and I married brothers from the same family, and we ended up pregnant around the same time. I married Julian, the brother who’s a doctor, and she married Leo, his good-looking police officer brother. On our first wedding anniversary, my best friend and I were on our way to pick up our prenatal checkup reports when we got into a car crash. My best friend escaped injury because she’d gotten out of the car earlier to buy me some milk, but I suffered severe bleeding. Shaking, I called my husband, the doctor. Julian sounded annoyed and said, “You’re lying again, just trying to get my attention! Medical resources aren’t something you can waste like this! Serena cut her hand, and I’m busy bandaging it. Stop bothering me!” My best friend quickly called her husband, the police officer. But Leo snapped, “Do you know what happens if you file a false police report? I’ve got to fix Serena’s leaky water pipe. Don’t waste my time!” My best friend, eight months pregnant, dragged me to the hospital. We both miscarried. When I woke up, I looked at Mia’s pale face, and we exchanged bitter smiles. “Chloe, I’m getting a divorce,” she said. “Me too,” I replied.

Once I made up my mind, I texted Julian right away about the divorce. He called me back, shouting: “Chloe, Serena slit her wrist—it could’ve been life-threatening! You want a divorce just because I helped her?! I’m not agreeing to this!” With that, he hung up before I could even say anything. Three years of dating, one year of marriage, and a baby that was almost here. I never thought it would all fall apart because of Serena—the girl he’d always had a thing for! This morning, I ran into Serena at the hospital. She insisted on helping me get a cab, and I didn’t turn down her offer. Then the driver suddenly swerved and crashed into a truck. The driver had minor scrapes and took off, leaving me lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the road. Looking back now, maybe the crash wasn’t an accident at all—maybe Serena planned it. Just then, Mia woke up beside me, tears filling her eyes. I was about to comfort her when her husband Leo, the police officer, called, yelling: “What the hell is your problem? You’ve always been perfectly healthy—how could you miscarry? You want a divorce? Fine, then let’s divorce!” The call ended abruptly. My best friend stared at her phone, lost in thought. Seeing how fragile she looked, I said, “Don’t be upset. These two guys aren’t worth crying over.” Thinking about it, maybe this outcome was inevitable from the moment we decided to marry them. Julian had intentionally picked Serena’s birthday for our wedding—his resentment was obvious. Even our marriages were just leverage for the brothers to win Serena back. There was never any real love there. It’s ridiculous how Mia and I let ourselves be played for fools. Hours had passed since the accident, and we were in Julian’s hospital, but he still wouldn’t come see us. Maybe in his eyes, I was never worth his time. I realized that too late. And the price I paid was way too high.

I lay in my hospital bed scrolling through Instagram. Sure enough, Serena had posted another victory photo, showing off like always. There was a group shot of the three of them, a photo of a supposedly “fixed” pipe, and a carefully bandaged wrist with a little bow on it. 【Grateful for good friends—sometimes friendship outlasts love!】 Serena’s post quickly got tons of likes. 【One’s a doctor, one’s a cop—you’ve got two hot guys!】 【So jealous! 】 I took a deep breath and showed Mia the Instagram post. She pulled out her phone, and two minutes later, a bitter laugh escaped her. “A love triangle? Don’t they think that’s a little crowded? Once we divorce, they’ll probably need a custom bed for their little threesome, huh?” I snorted. “I’m calling a lawyer right now to draft the divorce papers. And while I’m at it, I’ll send them a king-size bed as a ‘congrats on your new relationship’ gift!” After we sent the papers, Mia and I waited all day, but neither brother replied. I ran out of patience and called Julian. Before I could say a word, he snapped: “Why did you send divorce papers to my office? Trying to humiliate me in front of everyone because you’re jealous?” His words made me sigh—for myself, for ever thinking he cared. I’d asked a nurse to deliver the papers. If he’d bothered to ask even one question, he would’ve found out about the accident and that I was in the hospital. But obviously, he hadn’t. I was about to bring up the divorce when Serena’s sickly sweet voice came through the phone. “Julian, that lipstick you got me last time was so pretty! I loved it—can you pick up another one?” He quickly covered the phone, and I let out a bitter laugh. “No wonder you’re too busy to sign the divorce papers. Don’t let me interrupt your ‘plans.’ I’ll leave you alone.” I was about to hang up when he lost his temper completely. “Are you serious right now? I was just trying to keep you from overreacting! I’m with my brother! He was fixing Serena’s pipe, remember? She wanted to thank us with dinner. Why are you always so paranoid? Can’t you just trust me for once?” “She’s a single woman who can’t even fix a pipe by herself—why do you have to call me for every little problem? I’m exhausted from work! Can’t you act like an adult? Now you’re throwing a fit, demanding a divorce, and dragging Mia into this too. What did my brother ever do to you?” Julian’s voice rose, sharp with frustration. Then Serena piped up, her voice sickly sweet: “Don’t be upset, Julian. Pregnant women get extra emotional with all those hormones, right?” I was so angry my stitches throbbed, and I slammed down the phone. Mia saw how upset I was and squeezed my hand. “Don’t let them get to you! I already texted Leo—we’re getting those divorces as soon as we’re out of here.”

Mia and I were in the hospital for two whole weeks, and neither of them called once. Not one text asking where two pregnant women had disappeared to. Or why we hadn’t been home. Their silence made our already broken hearts sink even lower. Then I saw Serena’s new Instagram post, and it all made sense. Dozens of photos of the three of them on vacation—laughing, hugging, looking like one big happy family. Their grins were like salt in our wounds. The caption read: 【Family isn’t always blood—grateful for my chosen family!】 I stared at Julian’s carefree smile in the photos, feeling absolutely numb inside. I texted him calmly. 【I’m being discharged. Court tomorrow—bring Leo.】 He called right away, but I declined and blocked his number. Mia and I finished the discharge paperwork, then finally had time to report the hit-and-run driver to the police. After we described what happened, the officer frowned: “It’s been two weeks—why wait until now to report this? Tracking them down might be tough.” I just nodded awkwardly, forcing a smile as I asked for their help. When we explained that my husband had bailed to be with his mistress, and Mia had miscarried trying to save me—so we’d had no one to help us until now—the officer looked sympathetic. “Don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can to find that driver.” After leaving the station, Mia and I moved into a new apartment. We were both still pretty weak, so we hired a cleaning service. But Julian somehow got through using Leo’s phone, even though I’d blocked him. He was yelling: “Where the hell are you? The house is a disaster! Why aren’t you home resting like a pregnant woman should be? Haven’t two weeks been enough for you to get over this? How long are you gonna keep acting like this?” “Even if you want a divorce, stop brainwashing Mia! Are you jealous she had a good marriage?” Mia heard every word and snatched the phone from me, livid. She screamed into the phone, “You two assholes! Mia and I never should’ve married you! Tell Leo if he doesn’t show up tomorrow, he’s a coward! This divorce is happening—with or without you!” With that, she hung up. We blocked both brothers’ numbers right after. The next morning, Mia and I got to the courthouse early to wait for them. But Serena showed up instead—and we should’ve known better. Her eyes were red like she’d been crying. She clicked over in her heels, sniffling and putting on that innocent act: “I’m so sorry—I came to apologize for them. I know there’s been a misunderstanding. It’s not what it looks like, I promise.” “That trip? We planned it five years ago! I was out of town for a while, so we’re just now getting around to it. I told them to say goodbye before they left, but they must’ve forgotten to text…” This wasn’t an apology—it was a flex. I let out a dry laugh. “Oh really? So their divorce today—did you sign off on that too? Are they even man enough to show up, or did you volunteer to handle their dirty work?” Serena’s phone buzzed quietly in her purse. Her expression flickered, and then she suddenly lunged at us. I flinched and pushed her away on instinct. Serena fell hard on her butt, scraping her palm open. I froze, confused, and was about to help her up when Julian’s voice roared from across the lobby: “Chloe, what the fuck are you doing?! Get away from her!” Before I could process what was happening, he was in my face. He shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled backward, crashing into Mia. Julian’s eyes dropped to my flat stomach, and his face went white as a sheet. He stammered, “The baby…?” Leo wandered over, glued to his phone, not even glancing our way. He was talking urgently: “No, I can’t today. The station just got a report about a hit-and-run from two weeks ago—they’re calling it attempted murder! I gotta head back to investigate.” Then he finally noticed our empty bellies and froze. His phone slipped from his hand, screen shattering when it hit the floor. “What happened? Chloe… your stomach…”

I stared at their panicked, crumbling faces and said flatly, “As you can see, thanks to the three of you, the baby’s gone. Let’s sign the divorce papers. There’s nothing left to say.” Julian’s eyes bulged, like he couldn’t process it. Then it hit him, and he exploded. “Chloe! That was my kid! How could you do this behind my back? Who the hell do you think you are?!” “Are you insane?! You’re a murderer! You killed my child!” I shot a cold look at the woman hiding in his arms, sneering. “I lost my baby in a car accident, and you’re calling me a murderer? Should I have died too to make you happy?” “Julian, do you even care about that baby? Or are you just mad you lost your trophy? Maybe you should ask who caused that accident.” “When the truth comes out, I hope you’ll still be so quick to judge.” My words made Serena panic—just for a second. She opened her mouth to speak, but Leo cut her off. “Car accident? What are you talking about? Was that real? And my son—Mia was fine that day, right?” His ignorance made Mia’s eyes well up. Then she snapped, “Shut up! Are you really that dense?! Do you think a woman would joke about losing her baby? Leo, you’re pathetic.” “You don’t deserve to be a dad! I’m glad that baby never had to call you ‘father.’ After today, I never want to see you again.” Mia had never yelled at him like that—not in their four years together. Leo froze, his face red with shame and rage. “What are you saying? What actually happened? Were you in an accident too? Did they find the driver?” His voice cracked with panic, finally realizing how bad things were. But it was way too late. Mia smiled bitterly, her voice dead calm. “You didn’t care when I called for help. You don’t get to care now.” That’s when Julian finally remembered—the four desperate calls I’d made the day of the accident. His face went pale, like it was cracking. He turned to me, hesitant. “Those calls… were you really hurt? Did the baby die because of the accident?” When I just stared at him, he pushed Serena away like she was burning him. Serena looked shocked—like no one had ever brushed her off before. I shot her a look. “Funny you should ask—who do you think reported the accident as attempted murder?” The brothers didn’t seem to get it, but Serena did. Her shock melted into panic, and she forced a guilty smile. Serena jumped in, defending the driver: “Maybe he was drunk? Probably didn’t even realize he hit someone! Truck drivers are so reckless these days—I’ve almost been hit myself…” Normally, the brothers would’ve rushed to comfort her, warning her to be careful crossing streets. But this time, crickets. The two men just stared at her, expressions unreadable. Guilt and regret flickered in their eyes. I laughed coldly at her panic. Was she covering for the driver… or herself? I kept my voice icy. “I never said it was a truck. How’d you know that?” That sent Serena into a full-blown panic.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “342261”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn

It was our eighth wedding anniversary, and I wanted to surprise Scarlett, my wife. Instead, her assistant, Liam, knocked me down the stairs. Liam looked terrified. “Oh no, did I mess up again? I’m so sorry, please scold me…” Scarlett’s heart ached for him. “Don’t be silly, it wasn’t on purpose.” Then, she glared at me. “Alright, so you fell. Just get up. Don’t lie there making a scene!” At the hospital, the woman in the next bed asked kindly why my wife hadn’t come to see me, even though I had a concussion. Was she too busy? I was silent for a moment, then turned and tossed my wedding ring into the trash can. “No, I just became a widower.” Scarlett didn’t come home until late the next night. The moment she walked in, she tossed her trench coat onto the sofa. Only to find it already piled with her clothes from yesterday, and a mess of high heels scattered across the floor. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face. As usual, she didn’t notice my pale complexion or the medications on the table. “I’ve been out working all day and night, and I come home to this mess? Are you expecting me to clean it up?” I didn’t even lift an eyelid. I was too tired to remind her that the perfume she was wearing completely gave away her whereabouts. Seeing my lack of reaction, Scarlett scoffed. “Seriously, it’s like I married a prince and brought him home just to worship him.” My lips pressed into a tight line. After we got married, I willingly learned to cook and clean for Scarlett. Back then, even if I burned my hand cooking, a single compliment from her would make my entire day. But now, I was utterly fed up. When I remained silent, Scarlett’s brows furrowed. She finally sensed something was wrong. She slowly walked towards me, reaching out to touch my face, but I subtly dodged her. Scarlett froze, her voice softening a bit. “What’s wrong? Are you still angry?” I calmly shot back, “What good would being angry do?” Yesterday afternoon, after Liam knocked me down the stairs, Scarlett was only concerned with comforting a panicking Liam. She completely ignored the blood seeping from my head. To cheer Liam up, Scarlett even promised on the spot to go shopping with him. That afternoon, while they were on a sweet date, I was alone in the hospital undergoing surgery. “I just don’t get you men. Why do you always have so much to be angry about?” Seeing my cold attitude, Scarlett grew a little impatient. She roughly tried to turn my face towards her, but her hand brushed against my icy-cold skin. Her expression finally showed a hint of panic. “Why are you crying? It was just a fall, and I just snapped at you a couple of times, right?” “Alright, stop crying. It’s all my fault, okay? Blame me for being so busy these past two days that I didn’t have time for you.” Scarlett embraced me gently, letting out a soft sigh. “But wasn’t I doing all this for our home? Can’t you be a little more understanding?” “Do you know how hard I work out there? I’m so busy every day, and isn’t it all to give you a better life?” Hearing her words, my heart felt utterly frozen. Yesterday, right after my solo surgery, consumed by despair, Liam updated his social media. Liam: Thanks for the flowers, Scarlett! The photo showed the boy smiling brightly, holding a bouquet of roses. Scarlett’s blurry figure was unintentionally captured in the background. And Scarlett, from the moment I was knocked down until now, had never once genuinely asked about my well-being. At that thought, a wave of disgust washed over my face. I pushed her away with force and casually brushed her off. “Yeah, I know. You work so hard. Everything is for me. Thank you, you’re truly wonderful.” The words hung in the air, and the living room fell silent. Scarlett stared at me, utterly stunned. In eight years of marriage, this was the first time I had ever pushed her away. My fervent, unreserved love had become the very weapon she used to hurt me, over and over again. Ignoring her bewildered gaze, my eyes were cold and distant. I was about to turn and leave. But Scarlett suddenly grabbed my hand tightly, her voice tinged with a subtle panic. “Alex, where’s your ring?”

I lowered my eyes to my bare ring finger and said, expressionless, “I don’t know. Probably lost it.” She fixed her gaze on me, brows furrowed, as if trying to discern if I was lying. I met her stare, completely open and calm. After a long moment, she finally exhaled, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “How could you be so careless? Never mind, I’ll just buy you a new one later.” “I know I’ve been busy lately, and you’ve been feeling neglected.” “Actually, I prepared a little surprise for you. Something you’ve always wanted. I finally bought it.” Scarlett pulled a small box from her pocket, then gestured to the messy pile of clothes and shoes nearby. “But you have to clean all this up first before I give it to you.” I glanced at the trinket in her hand and said blandly, “I don’t need it. You keep it.” Scarlett’s displeasure was evident. “I bought you the gift you like, and you’re not even willing to do a little housework?” “I think I’ve been too good to you—” Before she could finish, her phone rang. I knew it was Liam’s custom ringtone. Scarlett’s lips curved upward unconsciously. She instinctively glanced at me, then, phone in hand, turned and walked into the room, closing the door behind her. Five minutes later, Scarlett emerged, pulled on her trench coat, and tossed the small box onto the sofa. “Alright, I was just kidding. Go ahead and see what the gift is.” “But the housework still needs to be done. The house must be sparkling clean by tomorrow night. It’s a disaster; I don’t know what you do all day.” “There’s a small issue with a company project. I’m going to deal with it. You go to bed first, don’t wait up for me.” I watched her silently. The same scene had played out countless times over these eight years. Yet, I always kept deceiving myself. After Scarlett left, I casually tossed the gift towards the trash can. But the box hit the rim of the bin, snapping open with a pop. A diamond-studded watch fell to the floor. I froze for a moment, then finally remembered. Seven years ago, I had once asked her for a diamond-studded watch. Back then, the company was just starting out. I accompanied her to various business dinners, and we finally landed a huge deal. The day the project was successfully completed, I mustered my courage and asked Scarlett to get me a diamond-studded watch. She frowned, clearly impatient. “Alex, can’t you be more sensible? Today it’s a necklace, tomorrow a car, and the day after are you going to ask for a private jet?” “Besides, your neck is so short, what’s the point of wearing anything?” “If you really like jewelry, I’ll buy you a necklace, alright?” The next day, Scarlett gave me a cheap necklace. I always thought she just didn’t like those kinds of things. But later, she showered Liam with countless pieces of jewelry. So many that he couldn’t help but flaunt them on his social media. Liam: Why does someone love giving jewelry so much!!! I’m not an octopus, I can’t even wear it all! This diamond-studded watch is so tacky, I hate it, don’t want it! I clicked on the post. That diamond-studded watch was the very “surprise” gift Scarlett had given me. My lips tightened. I picked it up and threw it into the trash can again. Then, I dialed a number. “Chris, that famous divorce lawyer you mentioned last time, can you recommend him to me?”

A joyful voice came from the other end of the line: “I didn’t mishear, did I? You finally made up your mind?!” I hummed in affirmation, trying to suppress the bitterness in my heart. “Yes, it’s all over. I want to go home.” Chris chuckled. “That’s good news, Alex, why be sad about it? Well, I’ll wish you a happy divorce in advance then!” Chris was incredibly efficient. The lawyer contacted me first thing in the morning. I booked my flight for three days later and started packing my bags. After Scarlett left that night, she disappeared for two consecutive days. In the past, I would have anxiously asked her why she wasn’t coming home. But now, I no longer cared. At nine in the evening, I lay in bed, silently planning my departure time for tomorrow. Then, Scarlett’s friend Ben suddenly called. “Alex, it’s bad! Scarlett’s about to get into a fight! You need to get over here right away!” When I arrived, I immediately spotted Scarlett, with a frightened Liam cowering behind her. At a table, a few middle-aged men and women were still relentlessly pushing drinks. “Ms. Scarlett, what’s wrong with having this young man join us for a few drinks to liven things up?” “Exactly, he’s just your assistant. Do you really need to baby him so much?” “If he just has a few drinks with us, we’ll sign the deal right away, fair enough?” At these words, Scarlett’s face instantly turned awful. She slammed her glass onto the floor and sneered. “What? Are you implying that I, Scarlett, need to rely on men to do business?!” Hearing that, I froze. Those humiliating memories resurfaced. In the early days of the company, to quickly establish a market presence, I accompanied Scarlett to various networking events. For her career, I forced myself to stomach the nausea, plastering on a smile, drinking glass after glass. But she never once stopped a drink from being offered to me. That time, it was also a night like this. I cried, begging her to take me home. The networking was disgusting, I didn’t want to drink anymore. But Scarlett got angry. “What are you talking about? It’s your honor to drink with Mr. Ben !” She grabbed my hand. “I knew you’d be a hassle! Just keep quiet later and just drink. Let’s go! They’re waiting for us.” At that memory, I couldn’t stop myself from trembling slightly. Yet this time, facing the same situation, Scarlett chose to stand in front of Liam. She ruffled Liam’s hair, her eyes filled with tenderness. “Liam, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you to a place like this. Even if I lose this deal, I would never let you drink.” Seeing this scene, my heart instantly twisted into a knot. So, she could feel reluctant to let someone drink. Liam couldn’t drink, no matter what, but what about me? What did all those glasses of alcohol I’d swallowed over the years count for? My heart ached sharply. I turned, wanting to escape. Just then, Ben spotted me and waved enthusiastically. “Alex, over here!” Everyone’s eyes instantly fell on me. Including Scarlett’s.

My steps faltered, but I spun around and walked away without hesitation. Scarlett seemed a little flustered. She quickly pushed through the crowd and hurried after me. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but her face was pale. “Alex, did you… see everything? Listen to me, Liam’s tolerance for alcohol is really low, that’s why I wouldn’t let him drink. It’s not what you think…” She gripped my wrist tightly, explaining anxiously. Soon, Liam also caught up, grabbing my other hand with a whimper. “Alex, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault for not drinking that glass, which made you and Scarlett argue. Please don’t be angry, I’ll go drink it now…” Scarlett immediately shot him a fierce glare. “Why did you follow us? Go back, aren’t you making enough of a scene already?!” “You don’t need to explain anything to me.” A wave of irritation washed over me, and I forcefully pushed them both away. Liam, however, suddenly slipped, crashing straight into the corner of a table. Blood gushed from his forehead, and he continued to apologize. “Scarlett, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault… am I going to be disfigured?” Seeing him injured, Scarlett instantly panicked. She turned and roared at me, “Alex, if you’re sick, go get help! What kind of tantrum is this? If anything happens to Liam, I swear I won’t let you get away with it!” At that moment, Scarlett’s face was terrifyingly dark. I stood there, stunned, looking at Scarlett, who was solely focused on protecting Liam. Suddenly, I remembered. Nine years ago, she protected me just like that. I was still in college then, and I ran into trouble on my way back to campus. She was the one who helped me out. That was the first time I met Scarlett. Later, she was the one who took my hand first. She was the one who stood up for me when I was wronged, the one who took me to the hospital when I was sick. Under a sky full of fireworks, she was the one who proposed to me. “Alex, marry me. We’ll be the happiest couple in the world.” Faintly, Liam’s whimpering voice reached my ears. Then, a sharp slap landed with a crack, sending me tumbling to the ground. I looked up to see Scarlett’s eyes, icy and bone-chilling, frighteningly unfamiliar. “Alex, you disgust me. That slap is your lesson. Don’t think that just because I’m good to you, you can run wild.” With that, she didn’t give me a chance to explain, helped Liam up, and left without looking back. This winter seemed unusually cold. After an unknown amount of time, I shakily got up, wrapped my coat tighter, and slowly walked back. Back home, I silently finished packing, placing the signed divorce papers in the most conspicuous spot. The next afternoon, Scarlett’s call came again. At this moment, I was already at the airport with my suitcase. “Alex, if you don’t want to get divorced, get your ass over here and apologize to Liam right now, and this whole thing will be over—” “No need,” I interrupted her. “I’ve already prepared the divorce agreement. You just need to sign it.” With that, I hung up, blocked her on all platforms, and boarded the plane home.

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Mom organized an engagement party for my boyfriend and Daisy—the silly girl from the corner store that everyone calls idiot. Our neighbor asked her: “Patricia, isn’t that Scarlett’s boyfriend? How on earth did Scarlett agree to this?” Mom just brushed it off. “Scarlett’s more than capable, she can find any guy she wants later. Daisy rarely gets marriage offers. As chair of the local community outreach program, I naturally need to look out for the vulnerable first.” Standing outside the banquet hall, everything suddenly clicked. That’s why Mom kept trying to fix me up with men, either middle-aged security guards or guys with severe disabilities—even though she knew I had a boyfriend. And I also realized what kind of “surprise” my boyfriend meant when he said he had a secret to tell me. My mom spotted me and called me over to the stage: “Scarlett, to keep things from getting awkward, just think of Ryan as your brother today.” “Come, say hello to your sis-in-law, Daisy.” In that moment, something inside me snapped. My voice didn’t even sound like my own. “Mom, Ryan—from now on, I want nothing to do with either of you.”

I walked out without hesitation, but my head was spinning. I’d only been away from this small town for three days. The minute I got back to the neighborhood entrance, a neighbor told me Mom had “given” my boyfriend to Daisy—the sweet but developmentally challenged girl from downstairs. I didn’t believe it at first. Ryan was a person, not some object Mom could just “hand over.” But when I got home and saw our living room decked out for an engagement party, I knew it was true. When Mom saw me leaving, she hurried over and grabbed my arm: “Scarlett! Where do you think you’re going?” “You can’t leave now. Won’t that just prove to everyone Daisy stole your boyfriend? How’s that supposed to make her look?” “If you had any sense, you’d stay, be Daisy’s bridesmaid, and even give a little toast.” I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. She knew Ryan and I had been together two years—we were practically engaged. How could she only care about Daisy’s reputation and not mine?! Ryan came over too, his voice low and placating: “Scarlett, I’ll explain everything about the engagement tomorrow.” “Today, for old times’ sake, please don’t cause a scene.” He was stronger than Mom, that’s for sure. He practically dragged me into the guest room. Daisy was sitting on my bed, wearing the wedding dress I’d been eyeing for ages but could never afford, grinning foolishly at us. Mom and Ryan lit up immediately. Everyone seemed thrilled about this marriage. Everyone got their version of happiness. Everyone except me—red-eyed, pale, looking pathetic and absurd. All my pent-up emotions erupted. I swept everything off the dessert table by the door. Wedding favors, fancy chocolates, stacks of gift envelopes, and presents they’d already collected went flying across the floor. Mom jumped back, pulling Daisy behind her: “Are you out of your mind? Don’t you remember I’m your mother? You wanna disrespect me on a day like this?” That comment hit me like a knife through the heart. I locked eyes with her, refusing to look away for even a second: “Patricia, do *you* remember you’re my mother?” “Ever since Dad died saving Daisy in that car crash, and you took over that charity, you’ve treated her better than your own daughter.” “The community hails Dad as a local hero. Those monthly grocery vouchers they give you? You hand them all to her. She eats imported fruit while I’m stuck with stale bread and tap water. She wears designer dresses, and I get your thrift store hand-me-downs.” The once lively engagement party fell completely silent. Neighbors craned their heads through the door, hungry for gossip. Mom tried to cover my mouth: “Okay Scarlett, stop it! Aren’t you embarrassed?” “Embarrassed?” I wrenched her hand away, feeling totally unhinged, desperate to scream all my frustrations: “I could let all that slide. But Ryan is *my* boyfriend! How do you just give him away like he’s property?!” “Aren’t you ashamed for making my boyfriend marry someone else?!” That comment lit the room on fire. I could hear the neighbor ladies outside exclaiming loudly. “I told you Scarlett and Ryan were serious—you wouldn’t believe me. They’ve been dating two, three years now.” “I don’t get what Scarlett’s mom is thinking, giving away her own daughter’s boyfriend.” Mom and Ryan’s faces went rigid. Ryan stormed over and pushed me hard: “Scarlett, have you no shame? How could you say that in front of everyone?” “Do you realize how much this is hurting Daisy? Now apologize to her.” “Otherwise, you’ll never hear my side of the story.” I crumpled to the floor. A shattered wine glass had sliced deep into my palm, leaving it soaked. I couldn’t tell if it was blood or the tears I couldn’t shed. But I knew in that moment, it wasn’t Mom giving away my boyfriend. It was me walking away from both of them. I pushed everyone away, hauling myself up from the floor. “Since you both care so much about Daisy, then Mom, let her be your daughter.” “Ryan, who you marry and why is none of my business anymore.”

This time, no one could stop me from leaving this small town for the city. I went to Grandma Lily’s house and found an envelope in her cupboard. I’d been accepted into a grad program at a university down south—thousands of miles away, a two-day train ride from home. It was so far, and I’d originally considered turning it down because I didn’t want to leave Ryan and worried about Mom being alone. I’d left the acceptance letter with Grandma Lily. Grandma Lily hadn’t gone to the engagement party. She brewed ginger tea while comforting me: “Your mom and Ryan have both lost their minds.” “Don’t be sad. Always put yourself first.” “Orientation’s only a month away, right? I’ll buy your train ticket.” Tears filled my eyes, and I fell into her arms, finally letting myself cry. That night, Mom came into my room with a first-aid kit, and Daisy followed her. Ryan hovered in the doorway, looking guilty, too ashamed to come in. She roughly dabbed medicine on my hand, her tone still accusatory: “Scarlett, you went too far today. You know how those neighborhood women already look down on Daisy for her condition.” “Now they’ll have even more to gossip about.” I turned my head away. Just looking at her face made me want to lose it. Daisy had been listening nearby and suddenly puckered her lips, trying to kiss my cheek: “Don’t be mad. Ryan kissed me, I kiss you. No mad, okay?” I jumped back, instinctively raising my hand to block her, but Daisy immediately plopped down on the floor. Mom’s face softened with a tenderness I’d never seen before. She rushed over and pulled Daisy into a hug: “Daisy, sweetie, did you fall? You didn’t do anything wrong. Why are you apologizing to her?” But when she looked at me, her eyes turned icy: “Scarlett, what is wrong with you? I never knew you could be so cruel?! Daisy isn’t like you—she needs someone to protect her so those women don’t pick on her. Why do you have to take this from her? Can’t you let her have one good thing?” Ryan came in too, checking on Daisy’s “injuries.” He couldn’t meet my eyes, though he didn’t yell like Mom: “Scarlett, you used to be so kind. What happened to you?” “So this is my fault?” I wanted to laugh bitterly, but instead tears started flowing: “Mom, you have the nerve to talk about security? Remember when I graduated college? There was an admin assistant opening at the company downtown. I’d already interviewed with HR—it was a stable job. What did you do?” “You pulled strings as some ‘prominent community leader’ and gave my job to Daisy instead, all in the name of women’s rights.” “Now she makes six or seven grand a month doing nothing. Tell me—where’s my security? What do I have?” I gripped the canvas bag in my hand. Inside was my grad school acceptance letter. At least I still had that. As long as I got out of this town, far from them, I’d be okay. Mom and Ryan looked guilty. I was done arguing. Just as I was about to tell them to leave, a sharp sound cut through the room. Daisy started slapping herself hard: “Daisy bad. Daisy took sister’s things. Sister not mad. Daisy punish self.” I frowned at her: “I didn’t tell you to do that.” But Ryan pulled her into a hug, shooting me a hateful look: “Scarlett, do you have to provoke her like this?” “Can’t you see she’s carrying my child? I have to marry her.” That hit me like a ton of bricks. I could barely hear anything after that. So they’d slept together. No wonder when I celebrated Ryan’s birthday last week—drove ten miles to get his favorite cake—he was acting weird, saying he had something to tell me. That was his secret. I stumbled to my feet, nearly tripping over a chair, and staggered out the door: “You two are disgusting. Absolutely shameless.” “I’m going to tell everyone the truth.”

My threat didn’t just panic Ryan—Mom’s face twitched too. Ryan grabbed my sleeve: “No, Scarlett, you can’t ruin me! Your mom manipulated me. If it weren’t for you, I never would’ve gotten into this mess.” Mom looked away, guilty. Daisy suddenly covered her face and started sobbing: “It’s all my fault. She hates me. I should just die so sister won’t be mad.” With that, she ran out. Mom and Ryan chased after her. Mom turned to slap me hard: “Your father died saving Daisy! She is my daughter now.” “If anything happens to Daisy, I’ll never forgive you!” Before Ryan left, he squeezed my hand: “Scarlett, you’re the only one for me. I have to marry Daisy, but you know she’s not all there. I’ll always think of you as family—the mother of my child.” “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” After he left, I scrubbed my hands three times before I felt clean. His touch made me feel filthy. I went to the local shipping center to mail my university documents. As I filled out the address form, I saw Mom and Ryan hugging Daisy, comforting her. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Daisy was smiling happily. She was pretty in her own way, with a childlike smile. No wonder they all doted on her. Mr. Miller, the shipping center owner, flipped through my papers and smiled: “Good for you, kiddo. Thought you’d given up on grad school.” I played it casual: “How’d you know about that, Mr. Miller?” He slapped a shipping label on the envelope with a snap: “Your boyfriend told me! Picked up your acceptance letter last year, said you weren’t going ’cause you two were getting married. Didn’t expect you to reapply. Not as good as last year’s school, but still solid.” My whole body started shaking. I’d slaved away for a whole year studying. Ryan knew how many all-nighters I pulled, how hard I worked. So I had gotten in last year—he stole my letter?! Mr. Miller noticed my pale face and his smile faded. He leaned in, checking the coast was clear before lowering his voice: “Kid, you need to watch your back.” “My wife was chatting with your mom the other day—heard she paid for Daisy’s engagement party.” “Where’d she get the cash? Turns out she arranged your engagement to that housing rep’s son from Oakwood Estates, took a down payment. She was gonna sell you off!” I recoiled, ice running through my veins. The sun was shining bright, but I felt cold to the bone. The people I trusted most had betrayed me like this. Mom said I could have any man I wanted, but the guy she tried to set me up with had two exes who filed restraining orders against him. I grabbed Mr. Miller’s arm: “Please, don’t tell anyone I’m going to grad school.” I needed to get out quietly and start over.

I stopped moping around and started acting normal. Ryan’s engagement might as well have been happening to a stranger. I even called Daisy “sister-in-law” to her face. She had a new outfit every day—either Ryan bought it or Mom took her shopping. Maybe it was just me, but her belly seemed to be growing fast. She insisted I walk with her. When we passed the neighborhood pond, she pulled my hand to her stomach: “Feel that? Your nephew’s kicking.” A bitter taste rose in my throat. But then it hit me—Daisy wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. Before I could pull away, she whispered in my ear: “Your boyfriend and your mom are *my* family now. They care more about me… and my baby.” “Oh, and your dad? He died for me. You wanna know what his last words were?” That cut me to the core. Before I could respond, Daisy dragged both of us into the pond. The quiet neighborhood erupted into chaos. Neighbors out for walks pulled us out of the water. I coughed up water, my stomach heaving. A stinging slap hit my face. Mom, sobbing, kept hitting me: “Scarlett, why can’t you just let this go? Your father died saving her! How could you try to kill Daisy? What if something happened to her baby?!” “What if something happened to you too? Do you want me to lose everything?!” I screamed that I didn’t do it. But Ryan looked down at me, voice cold: “Scarlett, I know you’re jealous of Daisy. You think she stole me.” “But she’s eight months pregnant! While she was carrying my child, you were trying to break us up! You need to apologize to her right now!” His lies turned the crowd against me. The neighbors had pitied me a second ago, but now they saw me as the homewrecker. If I couldn’t get out of this town, I’d be ruined. I remembered Ryan holding my hand at Dad’s funeral when I was seven, swearing he’d always protect me. I remembered him getting seven stitches when he fought off my bullies in seventh grade. Sixteen, picking me up from school, getting down on one knee with a soda tab ring, calling me his future wife. All those memories were lies. I laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. Whatever. Why bother explaining? Explanations are for people who care. A month later, Mom and Ryan cooked a big dinner. “It’s Scarlett’s birthday. We should smooth things over.” “Don’t know why she’s been so moody lately.” Daisy smiled, hand on her belly. Ryan glanced at her, pausing mid-motion. Something about her seemed different. He dried his hands. “I’ll go get Scarlett for dinner.” But when he opened her door, his smile froze.

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My husband has a strange hereditary illness. Every six months after we got married, he would lose his memory for fifteen days. And during those fifteen days, hed fall madly, passionately in love with another woman. The first time Hymen lost his memory, he fell for my arch-nemesis. For her sake, he had me kidnapped while I was at work, costing me a major promotion. The second time he lost his memory, he fell for the housemaid. For her sake, he framed me in a compromising situation, filmed it, and then blasted it all over social media to publicly humiliate me. The third time, he fell for my adopted sister. For her sake, he forced me to abort our child, almost killing both me and the baby. Each time he regained his memory, he would kneel and beg for my forgiveness, and then brutally punish his mistresses. The last time, he fell for my best friend. I let out a weary sigh. “Hymen Hayes, if youre sick, cant you just drop dead already?” “Liya, I know youre hurting, but you cant force love.” Hymen responded helplessly. “Hymen loves me. You need to accept that reality instead of cursing your own husband to die.” Serena draped herself over Hymen, purring. I took a deep breath. Today marked the first day of his latest amnesiac episode. “If you run out of condoms, there are more in the second drawer. Oh, and Serena, did you buy accident insurance?” The last part I said in a loaded tone. Serena froze, staring at me like I was a lunatic, a smirk twisting her lips. “Liya, have you gone mad with grief? Over a man, really?” This was the same best friend who used to be furious and ready to defend me every time Hymen cheated. Now, she looked like a smug victor. I simply pursed my lips, a nonchalant shrug. “Its nothing, just a friendly warning. Good luck in fifteen days.” With that, I turned and walked away. Wanton moans echoed from the master bedroom that was once ours. Hymen chuckled, his breathing still ragged. “Liya Hayes is just a pawn in a business marriage. Why bother getting upset with her? My heart belongs only to you.” Heh, this Hayes family illness was truly something. Every time he lost his memory, hed dismiss me as a mere tool, always finding a way to justify his own messed-up logic. Stepping out of the villa. I called my lawyer directly, calmly giving my instructions. “By any means necessary, at any cost, within fifteen days, I want to see my divorce papers with Hymen Hayes!” And as the at-fault party, he would walk away with nothing but the clothes on his back! Of course, an even grander surprise awaited Hymen, for him to personally appreciate once his memory returned. The apartment door violently crashed open. Hymen stormed in, and with one swift move, slapped me across the face. My cheek throbbed with a numb, tingling sensation, my lip was split, a thin line of blood oozing. “Hymen, you hit me… for Serena?” I crumpled to the floor, utterly defeated. Not a single tear would fall, yet I still feigned an expression of unbearable agony. In the corner, the red light of a hidden camera blinked steadily. He scoffed. “Still so desperately in love with me? Liya Hayes, you truly are pitiful!” Before he could finish, he gestured. His bodyguards understood, immediately stepping forward to shove me to the ground, roughly and cruelly. “But kidnapping Serena? That crossed a line. Do it! Teach Liya a lesson. Dont stop until she tells us where Serena is.” Fists rained down on me. Suddenly, Hymens phone vibrated. He barely glanced at the caller ID before snatching it up, a surge of excitement on his face. “Serena? Im coming right away. Dont be scared, dont cry, it would break my heart.” He hurried away. In the empty apartment, only I remained, a pathetic heap on the ground, as I pulled out my phone. The video was syncing in real-time to the cloud. I edited, saved. Note: [Gift 1 for the ex-husband, in fifteen days!] Serenas elaborate act had gone off without a hitch. To further punish me, Hymen froze all my credit cards and even notified the TV network, suspending me from my job indefinitely. Ms. Hayes, the head of the TV department, offered a strained smile, trying to comfort me. “Liya, Mr. Hayes will regain his memory in fifteen days anyway. After all these years, you two have been through so much. He truly loves you; everyone can see that.” I was utterly drained, clutching the suspension notice as I left. As soon as I stepped out of the TV network building. Serenas SnapChat messages came flooding in, one after another. [Liya Hayes, as your best friend, I was always just a mere backdrop for you to compare yourself against.] [But now, its different. The man you love most belongs to me.] [I, Serena, will soon step over you and claim all your wealth and happiness.] [Jealous? Resentful? But no! Hahahaha…] The contemptuous words, the utterly arrogant tone practically jumped off the screen. I scoffed, then took a screenshot.

I needed to return to the villa to get something back. It was a hand-embroidered cloth my grandmother had made. But as I stepped through the main entrance. I saw Serena cradling a dirty, stray dog. Her eyes were watery, as she reached out to Hymen, who was standing beside her, clearly allergic to dog fur but trying to tough it out. “Hymen, the poor dog is so pathetic. Hurry and grab that old rag so I can wipe it clean.” The rag Serena pointed at was my grandmothers embroidered cloth. My heart clenched violently. I was about to step forward to stop her. But Hymen moved faster. He casually smashed the picture frame, pulled out the fabric inside, and handed it over. His thin lips parted in a sneer. “Is Liya out of her mind? Framing a worthless rag and hanging it here to embarrass herself?” Yet, when he wasnt suffering from amnesia, that “worthless rag” was the one thing that brought him peace, something he treasured above all else! “Good boy, puppy. Big sister will clean you up.” With that, Serena used the fabric, which represented my entire familys legacy, to wipe the dogs rear end. My eyes widened in fury, and I lunged forward like a madwoman, raising my hand to strike. But Serena didnt even get a single hair touched. Hymen grabbed me by the collar and flung me away like a piece of trash. My frail body slammed hard against the floor-to-ceiling glass window. The window shattered, sharp glass shards tore through my clothes, pierced my tender skin, and blood gushed out. For a split second. Hymen, who had been shielding Serena, his face flushed with rage. His tightly furrowed brows stiffened at the sight of the blood pooling on the floor. His handsome face went ashen, as if remembering something… ” W-wah, Hymen, Liya is so scary! The puppy is terrified too! Im so scared, I dont want to be here anymore~ ” Serenas childish, whiny cries filled the air. Hymen, his mind churning with fragmented memories, snapped back to reality. He shook his head violently, muttering to himself. ” No way! How could I possibly be so distraught over Liya, a mere pawn in a business marriage? I love Serena, only Serena! ” I let out a cold snort just before I completely passed out from the pain. It seemed the closer it got to the fifteen-day mark. the clearer the forgotten memories became for Hymen. Serena, nestled in Hymens arms as she passed by me. She mouthed the words, a smirk playing on her lips, “Liya, youre just like this rotten rag. Hymen will give me anything I want, hahahaha…” Serena deliberately let go of the stray dog. The dog lunged at me.

When I next woke up. I was still clutching my grandmothers soiled fabric, in a VIP hospital room. The young nurse, changing my dressing, muttered sympathetically. ” Ms. Hayes, your husband is truly a heartless beast! A vile monster! ” ” Last night, you almost didnt make it. The attending surgeon called your husband, asking him to come sign the papers. ” ” But guess what he said? He claimed he was too busy coddling his lover and told us to let you die! ” *Let you die…* I turned my head. The rising sun streamed onto me, warm and comforting. My lawyer sent a message. `Madam, in just seven days, youll have your divorce certificate and be free.` Seven days. Leaning against the hospital bed. Grandmas embroidered cloth had been sent to a professional for cleaning. My fingers flew across the screen, saving the recording Id just made of the nurse to the cloud. At the same time, I retrieved and saved the surveillance video from the villa. Note: [Gift 3 for the ex-husband, in fifteen days!] I was discharged five days later. Serena, who had been a barely known actress, was now soaring, thanks to Hymens resources. She was the female lead in over a dozen high-quality TV series. Three renowned directors in the industry were vying to create tailor-made projects for Hymens “true love.” In short. As I sat in the car, every LED billboard I passed. featured the hottest “Goddess of Warmth,” Serena. I tapped my phone, looking at the countdown calendar. Just two more days until this game would finally be over. But I was slightly curious. What kind of scene would unfold when Hymen regained his memory and personally unwrapped the grand gift I had prepared for him? Suicide? Hanging? Self-harm? Pfft, those are so cliché. I was more eager to see a new melodrama unfold! The car pulled back to my apartment. Before I even entered the garage. The TV station director called. Her voice was trembling. ” L-Liya… Mr. Hymens orders… he wants you to come back temporarily to interview Serena. ” Interview Serena? The interview was scheduled for two days later. I put the call on speakerphone. My finger tapped idly on the screen displaying the calendar. Finally, I offered a faint, natural smile. “Alright, tell Hymen that I, Liya Hayes, accept this assignment.” It was a live interview, with three million anticipated viewers. Not only would New Yorkers be watching, but the entire country would witness firsthand how unhinged Hymen would become once his memory returned! Interesting. On the day of the interview. The director rushed over, practically in tears. ” Liya, Serenas agent just called. Shes suddenly feeling unwell and wont come. ” ” What? ” The interviewee wasnt coming. Given Serenas current popularity. If the show went off-air, no one would blame the “Goddess of Warmth” for being a diva; theyd just mock my show for having no guests! I bit my lip, telling the director to continue preparing for the show. Meanwhile, I went to the lounge to call Serena myself. Riiiiing… riiiiing… After thirty consecutive calls. A lazy, languid voice finally answered. But it wasnt for me. ” W-wah~ Hymen, youre so naughty. What if we tease Liya too much and she actually gets mad? ” Serenas sweet, simpering voice, laced with lustful abandon. Hymen, breathing heavily, his voice deep and sensuous. ” Liya is always targeting you. If she wants to remain Mrs. Hayes, she needs to be properly taught a lesson, to learn to behave. ” So, this interview, from start to finish, was just a setup designed to utterly humiliate me? And Hymen himself had orchestrated and executed it! I lowered my head, a bitter smile twisting my lips.

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My husband died protecting the border. I took our three-year-old son on a train to bring his ashes home. My son couldn’t hold back his quiet sobs. The couple next to us exploded. “Can’t you control your brat child?!” They snatched my son, dragged him to the bathroom to punish him, slapping him, and even filmed it. They sneered: “His dad died? ” “So no one to teach him? We’ll do it!” Along with the video, the news of my husband’s heroic sacrifice trended online. The military command was furious, and the entire internet erupted! My three-year-old son clung tightly to my arm, sobbing softly. “Mommy, they said I’ll never see Daddy again. What does that mean?” “Aren’t we going to bring Daddy home this time?” I stroked his head, my own eyes welling up with tears. Yesterday, General Thompson himself called me, informing me that my husband, Major Jake Miller, had died in the line of duty. “Enemy forces secretly crossed the border. He fought bravely to protect his comrades—” The General’s voice choked up. He said they had already bought our train tickets, so we could go say our final goodbyes to Jake. After hanging up, I couldn’t control my emotions and broke down in tears. My three-year-old son didn’t fully understand death, but he seemed to grasp that he might never see his dad again. Leo bit his lip, his little shoulders trembling. “My birthday is next month. Is Daddy not going to send me a toy gun anymore?” Just as I opened my mouth, a young woman in the seat in front of us suddenly stood up, turned around, and yelled at my son, her face contorted with anger: “So noisy! Do you have any manners?!” Leo flinched in fear, instinctively apologizing. She didn’t back down. “Talking nonstop, and now crying endlessly! I’ve been putting up with you two for ages!” I gripped my son’s hand tightly. “I’m sorry, we’ll be more careful.” Leo huddled beside me, trembling with fear. The woman glared at him, clenching her fist in warning. “Cry again, and I’ll call the police to take you away!” Leo immediately covered his mouth with both hands and buried himself in my arms. Only then did the woman scoff triumphantly and sit back down. I glanced around the train car. A few rows ahead, a man was loudly scrolling through TikTok videos, laughing heartily as he watched. In the back, two middle-aged women were passionately gossiping about their family issues. Before leaving with Leo, I had specifically told him not to be loud on the train. So, we both spoke softer than usual. Many people were louder than us, but this woman didn’t say a word to anyone else, only glaring at my son and me. I felt uneasy. But when you’re out alone, especially with such a young child, it’s not worth getting into an argument. It wouldn’t be good for Leo. I softly comforted my son. “Why don’t you try to sleep for a bit?” Leo covered his mouth, his eyes red, and shook his head. “I can’t stop thinking about Daddy. I’m still so sad.” Both of us were deliberately lowering our voices, almost whispering, so quietly you’d barely hear us if you weren’t actively listening. Suddenly, the woman in front flared up again. “Are you kidding me? Does this mom ever shut up?!” She walked over directly, stood next to our row of seats, and viciously kicked my chair. “Try making another sound, I dare you!” “Mommy, I’m scared!” Leo was so startled by her action that he started to wail. I hugged Leo and couldn’t help but retort: “Miss, we weren’t making noise.” “We’ve been speaking very softly.” The woman screamed, craning her neck: “This isn’t noisy?! He’s crying loud enough to make my head explode!” “You scared him, the child is still young—” “Young, my foot! No matter how little he is, he’s not my kid. Who’s obligated to put up with him?!” “Attendant! Attendant!” Just then, a train attendant appeared at the end of the car. The woman loudly called her over. “This brat won’t stop crying! Do something about him!”

“Little one, stop crying right now!” The attendant, Mia, frowned and scolded. I explained: “He wasn’t crying just now. This woman came over and kicked my chair, which scared him—” “Don’t make so many excuses!” The young attendant impatiently cut me off. “I’ve seen plenty of parents like you. Be mindful of others and don’t disturb anyone.” Big tears rolled down Leo’s cheeks. “I’m not a bad kid…” He was timid and usually suffered in silence when wronged. But the accusation of being a “bad kid” shattered him. He couldn’t stop his quiet sobs. “You’re seriously disturbing other passengers. Please take your child to the connecting area between cars to calm him down.” Mia said coldly. The young woman smugly agreed. “Hear that? Now scram!” “Mommy, I’ve been very good, I spoke very quietly…” My son cried, trembling all over. “Mommy knows Leo is the best boy.” I hugged him tightly, my heart aching, and stood up to grab our bag, ready to take him away. But then the young woman suddenly reached out and yanked Leo’s arm! “I told you to scram, why are you dawdling?!” Her long, pointed nail dug viciously into Leo’s delicate skin, instantly leaving a red, bruised mark. “Mommy, it hurts so much!” Leo cried out in pain. I immediately slapped her hand away. “What are you doing?! Let go of my son!” My strength wasn’t great, but the woman let out an exaggerated shriek. “You dare to hit me?! Chad!” From the front, a tall man with dyed blonde hair and a skull ring on his finger stood up. His face red with fury, he rushed over and slapped me hard across the face. “You filthy bitch! How dare you touch my girlfriend!” He swung his hand again, then grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the seat back. I saw stars, my cheek cut by his ring, blood beginning to seep. And in my arms, Leo had been snatched away by the woman! She grabbed the child by the neck with one hand and dragged him forward, walking quickly. “You don’t want to teach your kid, huh? No wonder his dad’s gone, leaving such a badly behaved kid! I’ll teach him for you!” I tried to chase, but the punk held me back by my hair, dragging me back to the seat. “What are you doing? Still trying to chase her and hit her?” “Let go of me! She snatched my child!” My eyes were burning with urgency. “She’s helping you teach your kid out of kindness, and you’re not grateful? You don’t know what’s good for you!” The punk forcefully pressed down on my shoulders. I struggled desperately, pleading with Mia: “Are you just going to watch him hit me? Call the police! Someone’s stealing my child!”

Mia pursed her lips. “He’s just holding you down. I didn’t see him hit anyone.” The two women from the front rows couldn’t stand it anymore. “Her face is bleeding! How can you lie with a straight face?!” “Let her go!” Mia’s expression finally changed. “Maybe I wasn’t paying attention… I’ll go call the police.” She then slowly pushed her service cart and walked away. I seized the opportunity to push the punk away and sprinted forward. From the bathroom at the end of the car, Leo’s piercing cry rang out: “Mommy, help me—” I rushed to the door and pounded on it. “Come for me! Open the door, let my son out!” Inside, the young woman’s curses could be heard: “Don’t you dare cry! Cry again and I’ll beat you to death!” The train bathroom’s metal door was very sturdy, unmoving. I pleaded with the surrounding passengers to call the police, but the punk followed me, glaring menacingly. “I’d like to see who dares interfere! My girlfriend is just helping him teach his son a lesson. If a brat is so noisy, the police will side with us!” Some passengers in the front car, not knowing the full truth, even agreed, saying they hated unruly children and a little scare was good. “My son is not a bad kid!” I cried out, pounding on the door. At that moment, Mrs. Stone and Mrs. Clark squeezed over. “Miss, is this child in the video your son?” I looked down and gasped. In the video, Leo was cowering in the corner, a hand with long, manicured nails grabbing his chin, forcing him to face the camera: “Say it! Your dad’s an Monster, and your mom’s a slut!” Leo’s face was red with finger marks, and he cried out: “My daddy is a hero!” “Ptooey!” A mouthful of spit landed on his face. The woman tightened her grip. “You lying brat!” Only then did I realize it was a live stream. The top of the screen read: “Train passenger losing it over noisy kid, live-streaming to teach him a lesson!” The comment section was filled with cheers, and some doubts, the chat a chaotic mess. The woman excitedly grabbed my son’s face and slammed his head back. “You little punk, speak up!” Thump! Leo’s face turned pale. My heart ached with intense pain. I cried out, pounding on the door: “Stop it!” “Quick, say your parents are trash!” The woman pressed his cheek against the wall. Leo’s face was ashen, but he stubbornly shouted: “Mommy said my daddy is a big hero! And I wasn’t noisy!” His tears poured down, which only enraged the woman further. She sneered, turning the camera to the trash can next to the squat toilet. “Not going to say it, huh? Lying brats get their mouths wiped with toilet paper!” With that, she picked out a piece of used toilet paper with brownish-yellow stains. Through the screen, I could almost smell the stench. I screamed in agony: “You can’t do this! Open the door!” Leo also cried in terror. “Don’t wipe my mouth with poop! It’s disgusting!” He had always been a clean child. Now, his face was pressed against a public toilet wall, a dirty piece of paper shoved in front of him. He cried out in fear, eyes shut: “Mommy, please help me—” The woman grew even more excited. “Oh, you think it’s dirty, do you? Then hurry up and say your parents are both trash and scum, and you won’t have to use this paper, how about that?”

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Today, Julian’s first love, Valerie, returned. The same Valerie who, three months ago, falsely accused me of pushing her down the stairs. Now I was on the floor. One of the men stepped closer, his hands going to his belt. “Mr. Sterling, this is your wife. You’re really just throw her away?” Julian turned his back and walked away. “When you’re finished, dump her in the ocean.” Cloth tore. Cold air bit into the exposed skin of my back.. Seven days. Just seven more days. Until my brother’s surgery was over. Until the five million hit the offshore account. Then, Seraphina Sterling would cease to exist. Seraphina POV Even the roar of the casino floor couldn’t drown out the wet, sickening crunch of breaking bones. My right pinky finger was crushed under a leather shoe. Mr. Hayes’ jowly face quivered, and a glob of thick, yellow phlegm landed with a wet smack on my hand. “Already can’t take it, Mrs. Sterling? Julian told us that besides playing the piano, those hands are amazing at… pleasuring men.” The room was packed with onlookers. Some held up their phones, recording, others whistled and jeered. I didn’t scream. I bit down hard on my lower lip until it bled. I looked up. Julian stood by the railing of the VIP lounge on the second floor, swirling a half-empty glass of red wine. His voice, flat and emotionless, echoed through the speakers. “Mr. Hayes, enjoy yourself. After all, if Seraphina can’t pay back the debts her family ran up, those hands are useless anyway.” Another sickening crack. This time, it was my ring finger. Mr. Hayes pressed down, grinding his heel from side to side. “Julian is truly generous! Then I won’t hold back!” I felt icy sweat trickle down my forehead, soaking into the strands of hair plastered to the grimy floor. I stared at the figure on the second floor. Three years ago, it was these very hands Julian had cupped, making a solemn vow. “Seraphina, if anyone dares to touch your hands, I’ll take their life.” Now, he was the one twisting the knife. Because this morning, Valerie had returned from overseas. His ‘first love’, the one who’d accused me of pushing her down the stairs three months ago, was back after two months of ‘treatment’ abroad. For months, Julian had ‘atoned’ for Valerie’s ‘suffering’ by inflicting double the torment on me. I watched from the floor as Mr. Hayes unbuckled his belt. The laughter around me grew louder. “Julian, this is your wife, supposedly. Are you really throwing her away?” Someone shouted up to the second floor. Julian turned. “She’s broken. Dump her in the ocean, let the fish have her.” That was his answer. My breath hitched. My left hand, braced on the floor beside me, clawed into the thick carpet. Two of my fingernails tore off with sickening pops. Mr. Hayes bent down, his greasy hand reaching for my collar. “Hear that? Your husband doesn’t want you.” Fabric ripped. Large swaths of my skin were exposed to the cold air. With my good left hand, I fumbled inside my shirt, pulling out a perfectly folded piece of paper. A hospital bill. The ICU, twenty thousand a day. That was my brother, Caleb’s, life. Mr. Hayes paused, seeing me clutch the paper to my chest as if guarding my very last breath. “Two million.” I said, “Mr. Hayes, if I survive this ‘game,’ I want two million.” Mr. Hayes stared for a second, then burst into roaring laughter. “Mrs. Sterling, are you trying to cut a deal with me? Fine! If you down this bottle of liquor and then crawl through my legs, I’ll give you five million, not just two!” He kicked a bottle of potent vodka towards me. The bottle slammed into my broken fingers. Agony ripped through me, making my entire body convulse uncontrollably. I emptied the bottle. My stomach felt like it was ablaze, the burning sensation momentarily eclipsing the pain of my shattered fingers. I crawled on the floor, inch by agonizing inch. And slowly, I passed between Mr. Hayes’s spread legs. The entire room fell silent. Only the frantic clicks of camera shutters filled the air. Mr. Hayes hadn’t expected me to actually do it. His face twisted into a furious scowl. He pulled a checkbook from his jacket, scribbled on a check, and slapped it onto my face. “Go buy yourself a coffin!” I picked up the check with my left hand and saw the number. Five million. Enough. Enough for Caleb’s surgery next week, enough to keep him stable for another six months. I stumbled to my feet, clutching the bloodstained check. No one cared about me. The crowd dispersed, moving on to the next round of revelry. I staggered out of the hall and reached the edge of the deck. My phone buzzed. A bank transfer alert popped up, followed by a screen full of missed FaceTime calls from ‘Julian’-that was before yesterday. Then, a new alert flashed. From the contact saved as L. “Package secured. New identity at the dead drop. Wheels up in seven. This is your last window.” I lifted my gaze to the endless, swallowing dark of the open sea. I took a photo of the five-million-dollar check and sent it to Dr. Miller at the hospital. In the chat box, I typed a single word. “Okay.” Seven days. I had to endure him for seven more days. Just until Caleb’s surgery was complete. Until that money was clean and resting in an offshore account. Then, Seraphina would cease to be.

Seraphina POV At three in the morning, I pushed open the front door. The house was dark. My right hand, still untreated, was crudely wrapped in a bandage. A figure sat on the living room sofa. “Finally decided to come home?” Julian’s voice was hoarse, laced with mockery. The lights flared on. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, a movement that pulled at my fresh wound. Julian wore a black shirt, his collar open, revealing a dark red hickey on his collarbone. It was new. “What’s wrong? Didn’t please Mr. Hayes enough? Got kicked out?” Julian stood, stepping closer, one slow stride after another. A wave of stale cigarette smoke, tainted with a cloying, unfamiliar woman’s perfume, hit me like a physical blow. I said nothing, trying to walk past him and go upstairs. He grabbed my wrist, his fingers clamping down right on the shattered bones of my hand. A raw scream ripped from my throat. My reaction seemed to enrage Julian further, and he tightened his grip. “What are you playing at? Three months ago, when you pushed Valerie down the stairs, I didn’t see you acting so fragile.” “I didn’t.” It was a phrase I’d repeated countless times over the past three years. “Didn’t?” Julian flung my hand away. I slammed into the entryway console, my right hand taking another heavy blow. I curled into a ball, cold sweat dripping onto the floor. Julian loomed over me. “The doctor said Valerie’s leg has permanent damage; she’ll never dance again. Seraphina, your hand being broken is just karma. You deserve it.” He picked up a document from the coffee table and threw it at me. The sharp corner of the paper grazed my cheek. “Sign it.” I picked up the document with my left hand. A ‘Cornea Donor Consent Form’. Recipient: Valerie. I looked up at Julian. “What happened to her eyes?” “Complications from her car accident a year ago. Retinal detachment. She needs a transplant.” Julian’s tone was flat. “Your cornea is the highest match.” “I won’t sign.” I threw the document back at him. “You don’t have a choice.” Julian bent down, pinching my chin. “Caleb’s still in the ICU at St. Jude’s, isn’t he? Time for his surgery payment this week, too?” The five million was still processing; it wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow at the earliest. If Julian cut off the hospital’s medication now… “You’re a monster.” “Not as much as you.” Julian released my chin, then meticulously wiped his fingers on a tissue as if I was something vile. “Back then, to marry me, you drugged Grandpa, forcing Valerie to leave the country. What part of that wasn’t despicable?” I opened my mouth. Explain? Explain that Valerie swapped Grandpa’s meds? Explain that she skipped town because she got paid off by Sterling Corporation, Julian’s biggest rival? It was useless. All the evidence had been destroyed. Only Valerie’s perfectly crafted, fake ‘diary’ survived. Julian only believed what he saw. “Sign it, and I’ll cover Caleb’s surgery.” Julian said, his final words. I looked at the document. One cornea. For Caleb’s life. It was a fair trade. What did it matter? I’d be gone in seven days. One less eye wouldn’t stop my disappearance. “Okay.” Julian’s movements froze. He frowned, looking at me. “Pen.” I extended my left hand. Julian handed me the pen. I scrawled my name clumsily in the signature box. The handwriting was ugly, the messy scrawl of a useless lefty. “When is the surgery scheduled?” I asked. “Next Monday.” Next Monday. The seventh day. I calculated the timing in my head. If I could just delay until the last moment before the surgery, Valerie wouldn’t get the cornea, and Julian would be so preoccupied with the surgery preparations that his guard would be down. Perfect. “Fine.” I handed him the document. “But I have a condition.” “You’re in no position to bargain.” “These next few days, I’m staying in the guest room. Also, find me a doctor to set my hand.” I held up my hand, swollen like a pastry. “Otherwise, if it gets infected, it’ll mess with my vitals, and the cornea quality will drop. You want that?” Julian stared at my hand for a few seconds. “Mr. Davies will bring a doctor.” He snatched the document and turned to leave. He stopped at the staircase, not looking back. “Valerie moves in tomorrow. You’d better stay out of her way. Don’t let me catch sight of that grim expression on your face.” “Got it.” Julian’s back stiffened for a moment, then he strode upstairs. The master bedroom door slammed shut, shaking the house. I slid down the wall, collapsing to the floor. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to “Liam”. “Plan change. Evacuation moved to Sunday night.” Sunday night. The eve of the surgery. That would be when Julian was least vigilant, and most consumed by his fury. I glanced at the closed door upstairs. Julian, you want atonement? Here it is. But you’ll never get this eye.

Seraphina POV In the early morning, the mansion’s front doors were slammed open. A dozen movers poured in, bustling in and out of the house. My belongings were tossed out one by one. My piano scores, my orchids, even our wedding photo hanging in the entryway-all were bundled up and thrown into the trash can in the yard. Pink shag carpets, giant diffusers, and a pristine white Steinway grand piano were hauled inside. I sat on the small balcony of the guest room, a glass of water in my left hand. A sweet, tinkling laugh floated up from downstairs. “Julian, does this vase look good here? Is it in the way?” Valerie sat in a wheelchair, dressed in a white lace dress, a delicate porcelain doll. Julian stood behind her, pushing her wheelchair, his eyes soft with tenderness. “Whatever you like. The whole house is yours, change it however you want.” “But… won’t Seraphina be upset?” Valerie looked up timidly. “There’s no Seraphina here,” Julian said. “Only a maid who’s about to be kicked to the curb.” I heard every word clearly. A maid. Indeed, in three years of marriage, the most I’d done was serve him. Just then, a knock came at the door. Mr. Davies stood there, holding a maid’s uniform. “Ms. Seraphina.” Mr. Davies’s tone shifted quickly. “Julian has instructed that there’s a party tonight, and we’re short-staffed. He wants you to change into this and help with serving drinks.” I looked at the ridiculously skimpy maid’s uniform. “I’m injured.” I pointed to my casted hand. “Julian said that if one hand’s useless, you still have the other.” Mr. Davies placed the clothes on the bed. “If you don’t change, Caleb’s situation…” Caleb, again. I closed my eyes. “Get out.” After Mr. Davies left, I changed into the uniform with one hand. The dress was tight, making it hard to breathe. I looked at myself in the mirror. Pale, gaunt, like a ghost. Good. The more pitiful I looked, the more Julian would relish it, and the less he’d suspect me. At six in the evening, guests poured into the house, Julian and Valerie’s entire social circle. These were the same people who, back then, had scoffed at me as a “desperate hanger-on.” Now, their eyes were filled with smug amusement and thinly veiled contempt. “Well, well, isn’t that the former piano prodigy? Look at her, dressed like that!” “Heard she sold her husband for money? Still clinging to the house?” “Utterly shameless.” Valerie was surrounded by guests, smiling, radiating happiness. When she saw me approach with a tray, a flicker of pure malice darted through her eyes. “Seraphina, darling, could you fetch me a glass of red wine?” Valerie’s voice was soft. I walked over, my left hand holding the wine glass steady. Just as I handed it to Valerie, her hand suddenly trembled. Red wine splashed across Valerie’s pristine white dress. “Ah!” Valerie shrieked, her eyes welling up. “My leg… it’s so cold…” “What happened!” Julian shoved through the crowd, practically throwing me aside. Losing my balance, I fell to the floor. My casted hand slammed against the table corner. The agony made my vision swim, then black out for a second. “Seraphina! Are you trying to die?!” Julian knelt to check Valerie’s leg. “Julian, don’t blame Seraphina… I just lost my grip…” Valerie sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Seraphina must be upset that I’m getting her cornea. She’s just so angry…” The room erupted. “What? She won’t donate?” “Valerie got her leg injured because Seraphina pushed her, and now her eyes are going bad, and she’s still so selfish?” “Exactly! She took Mrs. Sterling’s place for three years, and she’s still not satisfied!” Julian suddenly turned, glaring at me. “Apologize.” I lay on the floor, pushing myself up to a sitting position. I looked at the ‘couple’. Apologize? Fine. I slowly got up and walked to Valerie. “I’m sorry.” “I didn’t hear you!” Julian roared. I took a deep breath, bent at the waist, a deep, mocking bow. “I’m sorry, Miss Valerie. I shouldn’t have spilled wine on you.” “I shouldn’t have taken Mrs. Sterling’s place.” “I shouldn’t even be alive, bothering your perfect lives.” “Get to the kitchen.” Julian ordered. “Don’t come out until the party’s over.” I turned and walked away. No looking back, no tears. Back in the kitchen, I closed the door, shutting out the noise from outside. I pulled a tiny USB drive from the pocket of my apron. I’d slipped it from Julian’s suit pocket during the chaos of my fall. It contained Julian’s company’s most sensitive data. Exactly what Liam needed. I found a piece of raw meat, shoved the USB drive deep into it, then tossed it into the very bottom of the freezer. After that, I leaned against the freezer door, gasping for breath. My right hand throbbed as if it had broken all over again. But I smiled. Julian, if you’d just checked the security footage, you’d see Valerie deliberately spilled that wine herself. But you wouldn’t check. You would never believe me. My phone vibrated. A bank transfer notification. Five million. It had arrived. I immediately transferred the money to the offshore account I’d been preparing for three years. Then, I factory-reset my phone and tossed it into the churning garbage disposal. The phone shattered into fragments. That was the first connection I severed.

Seraphina POV To appease a ‘traumatized’ Valerie, Julian decided to host a charity auction on Friday night. It was philanthropy in name only. In truth, it was a stage: to generate publicity for Valerie and formally reintroduce her as the woman of Julian’s house. The evening’s centerpiece was an antique grand piano. It was the grand piano Julian had given me for my eighteenth birthday, after I won the International Chopin Gold Medal. Now, he was auctioning off that very piano, with all proceeds going to a foundation for the visually impaired, in Valerie’s name. How ironic. Using his ex-wife’s most cherished possession to pave the way for his current flame. I was ordered to attend. The reason: as the piano’s original owner, I was needed for the final “handover” ceremony. Humiliation. Pure, unadulterated humiliation. Backstage at the venue, I stood in a corner, wearing a faded, ill-fitting old gown. Valerie, in a custom-made gown shimmering like a night sky, was getting her makeup touched up, a princess reborn. “Seraphina, I’m truly sorry for you.” Valerie watched me in the mirror. “Julian said you can’t play this piano anymore, and it’s just taking up space at home, so it’s better to use it for charity.” I looked at the black Steinway grand being wheeled onto the stage. A faint scratch marred the lid, a tiny mark I’d made with my hairpin when I’d collapsed from exhaustion during practice. Back then, Julian had been heartbroken, holding me tight, whispering reassurances all night long. Now, he was selling that memory. “Good for something, I guess,” I said. Valerie’s smile faltered for a moment, then she recovered her sweet demeanor. “Seraphina, you’re so philosophical. Oh, Julian said he wants to play ‘Wedding of Love’ with me tonight. You don’t mind, do you?” ‘Wedding of Love.’ It was the song from Julian’s and my wedding. I said nothing, just lowered my gaze to my casted hand. From the front, the host’s voice boomed. “And now, please welcome Julian and Valerie, as they bring us our opening performance!” Thunderous applause. The curtain swept open, and two spotlights illuminated the center of the stage. Julian sat on one side of the piano bench, Valerie on the other. A four-hand duet. The scene was picture-perfect. I stood in the shadows behind the curtain, watching it all unfold. Once, the one sitting there had been me. The music began. Valerie’s technique was mediocre at best, riddled with wrong notes, her rhythm unsteady. But Julian matched her, slowing his pace, using his masterful skill to cover her flaws. When Valerie made a mistake, he would even turn to her, a doting smile in his eyes. I felt sick. I remembered three years ago, how my fingers were raw, covered in angry blisters, from practicing this very song. Julian had carefully pricked my blisters, whispering, “Seraphina, from now on, play only for me.” Liar. They were all liars. The piece ended. The applause was endless. The host rushed onto the stage, thrilled. “Simply breathtaking! This is what true love looks like! Next, we will be auctioning off this piano, a witness to Julian’s love story! Starting bid: five million!” “Ten million!” The first bid sent a ripple of shock through the room. Everyone turned. A tall man in a gray suit, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, walked in from the entrance, holding up a bidding paddle. Cyrus. Cyrus Sterling, the head of the Sterling Corporation and Julian’s fiercest rival in the business world. And my former classmate. The smile on Julian’s face vanished instantly. He stood up and walked to the front of the stage. “Cyrus, what the hell are you playing at?” “No particular reason,” Cyrus said, adjusting his glasses. “Some things, if the original owner doesn’t appreciate them, are better off with someone who does.” Julian saw me. “Twenty million.” Julian spoke. He clearly regretted putting it up for auction. “Thirty million,” Cyrus said without hesitation. “Fifty million!” Julian gritted his teeth. The entire room gasped. Fifty million for a piano was an astronomical sum. Cyrus smiled, then put down his paddle. “Julian, you’re as rich as they say. But…” Cyrus’s tone shifted. “Some things, you can’t hold onto forever.” With that, he gave me a deep, knowing look, then turned and left. In that fleeting glance, I saw a hidden message. I understood. Cyrus was helping me. He was using this method to tell Julian that someone was watching this piano, watching me. And it meant Julian, for the sake of his ego, would never let that piano leave his possession. The piano went unsold, remaining with Julian. Backstage, Julian dragged me into a dressing room. The door locked with a heavy click. “What’s your relationship with Cyrus?” Julian pinned me against the wall, his eyes bloodshot. “Nothing.” “Nothing? Then why would he spend thirty million on your damn piano?” Julian’s grip on my chin was so tight, I thought my jaw would shatter. “Seraphina, have you already found someone new? That affair three years ago, are you still so shameless?” “I didn’t.” I shook my head. “If you believe I cheated, and now I have someone else, then let me go.” I met his gaze directly. “You need to make room for Valerie anyway, and I’ve signed the donation papers.” “Never!” Julian snarled. “You want to leave? Dream on!” Julian’s teeth were clenched. “As long as I say no, you’re bound to me, in life and in death!” He tore my gown. “You want a man? Fine. I’ll give you one!” There was no prelude. Just a brutal, punitive assault. I bit down hard on the plaster cast on my arm, choking back every sound. My tears had long dried. My heart was dead. When it was over, Julian adjusted his clothes. “Go to the hospital for pre-op checks tomorrow. Don’t go anywhere these next few days.” He slammed the door shut and left. I lay on the cold floor, my body aching. I waited. Waited for the signal Cyrus had left me. When I’d been shoved earlier, I’d felt a slip of paper pressed into my pocket by Cyrus. My trembling fingers pulled it out. It contained only a short line of text and a tiny key. “Tomorrow night, midnight, back door delivery truck. Locker 302.” The key to my freedom. Or a one-way ticket to hell. If I failed, I’d have my legs broken and be locked away forever by Julian. But I had no choice. I swallowed the paper and hid the key in the crevices of my cast. Julian, you left me no choice.

Seraphina POV The hospital corridor reeked of antiseptic. I followed behind Julian, led into the VIP ophthalmology clinic. Valerie sat in the examination chair, and Julian was leaning down, kissing her forehead. “Don’t be scared. Dr. Miller is personally performing the surgery. You’ll be able to see again tomorrow.” Valerie clutched Julian’s coat, shrinking back just a little. “Seraphina is really willing? After all, it’s removing an eyeball…” “She doesn’t have a choice.” Julian turned, his tone devoid of warmth. “Sign it.” On the table lay the ‘Surgical Consent Form’. I picked up the pen with my left hand. Dr. Miller adjusted his glasses, his voice professional and flat. “Ms. Seraphina, after the left eyeball is removed, a prosthetic eye will be fitted. There’s a risk of rejection, but it won’t affect your appearance. Please sign if you confirm.” My pen hovered over the line. “I need to use the restroom.” Julian frowned. “Always so difficult.” “I want to go too.” Valerie suddenly stood up, fumbling for Julian’s hand. “Julian, I want to touch up my makeup. I don’t want you to see me looking tired.” Julian’s gaze softened. “Okay, I’ll help you.” “No need, just Seraphina can come with me.” Valerie smiled sweetly. Inside the restroom. The stall door locked. Valerie stood in front of the mirror, reaching up to take off her large sunglasses. Her eyes, clear as glass, held no hint of impairment. She pulled lipstick from her bag and, gazing into the mirror, meticulously outlined her lips. Not a single smudge. “Just as I thought,” I said. “Surprised?” Valerie pursed her lips, turning to face me, her eyes filled with malice. “Seraphina, I never actually needed your cornea. I just wanted to make you blind.” My left hand, in my pocket, gripped the tiny key I’d retrieved from my cast. “Caleb’s surgery fee, Julian already paid it,” I said. “Did he?” Valerie chuckled softly, pulling out her phone and playing a video. In the video, the oxygen tube in Caleb’s ICU room was half-pulled out. The monitor blared a piercing alarm, and nurses scrambled to save him. I lunged to snatch the phone. Valerie sidestepped, then slapped me across the face. I slammed into the sink, my casted hand taking another brutal hit. “Your brother’s pathetic life? It’s in my hands now.” Valerie leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Tomorrow’s surgery, if you dare to run, or say anything, I’ll have them pull the plug entirely.” I glared at her. “What do you want?” “I want you to die on the operating table.” Valerie pulled an eyebrow razor from her bag and shoved it into the crevices of my cast. “Anesthesia complications, cardiac arrest – these things happen all the time in surgery. I want you dead on that table, clearing the way for me to be Mrs. Sterling.” A knock came at the door. Julian’s voice. “Valerie? Are you ready?” Valerie’s face instantly transformed. She swept the hand soap bottle off the sink, letting it crash to the floor. “Seraphina, no!” She shrieked, throwing herself to the ground. The door burst open. Julian rushed in, seeing Valerie sprawled on the floor and me ‘holding’ an eyebrow razor. “Seraphina!” Julian’s foot connected hard with my stomach. I flew backward, my back slamming against the edge of the toilet, and I crumpled to the floor, pain curling me into a ball. “Julian… Seraphina said if I could see again, you wouldn’t want her… She wanted to ruin my face…” Valerie sobbed, burying her face in Julian’s chest. Julian picked up Valerie, his eyes on me, as if looking at a corpse. “Lock her in the morgue,” Julian ordered the security guards who’d rushed in. “Let her have a good reality check.” The guards came forward, dragging me out as I coughed up blood. I didn’t struggle. As they pulled me through the door, I saw Valerie, clinging to Julian’s shoulder, silently mouthed two words at me: “Die. Bitch.” The morgue was freezing. I was thrown between the stainless steel gurneys. The icy chill seeped deep into my bones. I huddled in the corner, pulling out the tiny voice recorder I’d prepared earlier. Everything in the restroom had been recorded. This was my last card. It was meant for negotiating with Julian, but now, it would be Valerie’s funeral song. My phone buzzed. A message from “Liam”. “Caleb’s been moved. Cyrus’s people have him now. You can proceed.” I looked at the screen and laughed. I laughed, tears streaming down my face. Valerie, your biggest mistake was believing I still cared about Julian. I sat in the morgue’s frigid air all night. Until dawn, when the guards opened the door. “Come out. Julian wants you home to prepare for surgery.”

Seraphina POV I’d returned from the morgue with a raging fever. Julian only gave me one fever reducer. His reason: “You’re having general anesthesia tomorrow. Too many meds will mess with your metabolism.” Julian came down from his study, dressed in a black suit, his tie knotted without a single wrinkle. He surveyed the dishes on the table. “Sit. Eat with me.” “I’m not hungry.” “I said sit down.” Julian pulled out a chair, his words brooking no argument. I obeyed, sitting down. Valerie picked up a shrimp and offered it to Julian, her voice sweet and soft. “Julian, this dish Seraphina made, it used to be your favorite. Try it?” Julian opened his mouth, chewed twice, then spat it into the bone plate. “Too salty.” He set his fork down with a sharp click. “Seraphina, are you doing this on purpose?” I looked at the white rice in my bowl. “My hand was shaking. Couldn’t control the salt.” “Shaking?” Julian grabbed my casted arm. “I saw you playing for your lover. You seemed steady enough then.” His fingers tightened. Excruciating pain ripped through me, making my body twitch involuntarily. Cold sweat drenched the back of my shirt, but I didn’t make a sound. “After the surgery tomorrow, this hand will be useless anyway.” Julian flung my hand away. “I’ll arrange for you to be sent to a sanitarium. You won’t leave without my permission.” It was a sentence of soft imprisonment. I picked up my spoon and calmly took a sip of soup. Fourteen more hours. After dinner, a document was thrown onto the table in front of me. A ‘Divorce Settlement Agreement’. “Sign it.” Julian lit a cigarette. “Giving Valerie her rightful place is the last thing you can do.” I opened the agreement. Zero assets. I’d be leaving with nothing. Even the small house my mother left me was already legally Julian’s. “Okay.” I picked up the pen and signed my name. Julian’s fingers, clutching the cigarette, paused. “Aren’t you going to read the terms?” “No need.” I closed the document. “Whatever makes you happy, Julian.” My indifferent attitude was the final spark that ignited Julian’s simmering rage. He stubbed out his cigarette and pushed me onto the sofa. “Seraphina, are you hoping Cyrus is going to ride in and save you? I’m telling you, the Sterling Corporation is in crisis. Cyrus is already on a flight to Europe tonight, trying to save his own ass.” My breath hitched. Cyrus was gone? Then what about tomorrow’s pickup…? “Desperate?” Julian’s finger traced my cheek. “Just hand over the cornea, and I might consider making your life in the sanitarium more comfortable.” He finished speaking, picked up the agreement, and went upstairs. I lay on the sofa, staring silently at the ceiling. My phone was shattered; I couldn’t contact anyone. If Cyrus really was gone, this was a checkmate. Two in the morning. Rain lashed against the windows. I fished a paperclip from deep within the couch cushions. Barefoot, I avoided the blind spots of the hallway cameras and slipped into the first-floor study. Julian’s safe was in the study. With my left hand, I manipulated the paperclip into the keyhole. Click. The old-fashioned mechanical lock clicked open with a soft snick. I didn’t take any money, nor did I touch any sensitive documents. I placed the voice recorder, along with the ‘real vision test report’ Valerie had torn up and meticulously taped back together, deep inside the safe. Julian always opened it first thing in the morning to retrieve his watch. Mission accomplished, I closed the safe. Back in the guest room, I carefully unwound the bandage over my cast. Hidden inside, a single line of text was inked: Cyrus’s contingency plan. “If Plan A fails, initiate Plan B: The Funeral.” I re-bandaged the cast, even tying it tighter than before, using the pain to keep my nerves buzzing, to stay awake. Outside, thunder growled. I stood by the window, watching the distant lightning tear across the night sky.

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When I married him, my friends were blunt. “He’s broke and not even that cute. You could clearly do better.” I just smiled. “The love he gives me is priceless.” Who would have thought that a year later, Julian suddenly became rich overnight and immediately replace me with some young college girl? He figured I was too soft to leave, so he grew bolder. He even made out with his mistress into my room, on the very day I gave birth. But there was one thing he never knew: the curse that runs in my family’s blood. And the price for breaking it is one he could never afford. Our family carried a generational curse: the more one gave in the marriage, the more the other would be forced to repay, multiplied, after a divorce. That’s why when I found out Julian was cheating, I didn’t make a scene. “Anya! Mom says you poured out her chicken soup. She spent three hours on it. How could you be so disrespectful!” Julian hadn’t been home in a month. The moment he stepped through the door, the accusations started. I was still nursing our newborn. His words made me flinch. “That soup was from your last visit. It was leftovers then. It’s been in the fridge for thirty days. It’s moldy. It stinks.” Brenda, my mother-in-law, started crying nearby. “I was saving it for myself! You threw it away without my permission! You have no manners!” Julian immediately scowled. “She’s being frugal, if she wants to keep it, let her keep it! The fridge is big enough, what’s wrong with letting her store it?” My anger flared. “The fridge is packed with freshly stored breast milk! If that chicken soup went bad and affected the milk, and Summer gets sick, are you going to take her to the hospital?” “If the breast milk spoils, you can just pump more, right?” Julian said it so casually, completely ignoring how much agony I’d gone through to get my milk flowing, or how much time I’d spent carefully storing it. Brenda chimed in, echoing Julian’s sharp accusations. “If my granddaughter gets sick, it’s your fault! What good is making three thousand bucks a month? It’s all thanks to my son supporting you! Your fancy university degree is useless; your ‘salary’ isn’t even as good as my niece who only finished high school!” My vision swam with anger. I didn’t have a job, no income, wasn’t that because I’d quit after I got pregnant? I lay weakly on the hospital bed. Julian was working non-stop, day and night. I couldn’t even get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night without help, having to ask a nurse. I kept telling myself Julian was working hard, and I swallowed my resentment. Until one day, I went downstairs to buy groceries and saw him leaning against his car window, chatting intimately with a beautiful college student. She even kissed him on the cheek. After she left, he lit a cigarette and, with a smug grin, chatted with the building’s security guard. “What do you think? Eighteen, much fresher than my wife.” “My wife went to a fancy university, but she still pops out babies for me, mops floors, and washes dishes.” “I’m not going home. If I do, I’d have to help with the kid, right? It’s utterly annoying…” “You don’t know, after she gave birth, her figure’s all swollen, ugh. Doesn’t wear makeup, doesn’t wash her hair, a complete slob. Just looking at her makes me sick.” Every single one of his words hit me like a lightning bolt, crushing my shoulders. He seemed to have forgotten. The down payment for the house we were living in? He’d borrowed my savings for it, and still hadn’t paid me back. I couldn’t take it. I stormed over to confront him, but he felt humiliated. Right in front of the security guard, he slapped me hard across the face twice, then kicked me. “Bitch, how dare you talk to me like that? You need to remember who supports this family, who gives you the money you spend!” He was right. As soon as my maternity leave was over, the company fired me. Now, I was just a stay-at-home mom, reliant on my husband. I touched my face, swollen like a balloon, staring at him in disbelief. Only one thought burned in my mind: I had to get revenge. Luckily, he still didn’t know about my family’s curse.

The next day, I called my mother, Eleanor. Her voice was calm, as if she’d been expecting this. “You had the ceremony, but you never filed the license with the state. So the curse’s power will be halved. Leave him now, and the worst he’ll face is a year of gut rot and a ruined reputation. It’s a slap on the wrist compared to what you’ve endured.” I calmed down. Right, I couldn’t separate yet. Not only would I not separate, I needed to officially register our marriage. The more he owed me, the more he wronged me, the more he’d have to repay. Ten months of pregnancy for him to suffer stomach problems for a year? No way. I wanted him to suffer a fate worse than death. For six years, he thought I couldn’t leave him, and he grew increasingly outrageous. He’d hit and curse me at the slightest provocation. Finally, when Summer was six and Julian suggested divorce, the time was ripe. I did the math. With all the debts and sins he’d accumulated during our marriage, he definitely wouldn’t escape death. I deliberately brought up dividing our marital assets. As expected, he exploded in rage, calling me vicious, his face turning beet red. “Have you earned a single penny for this family all these years? Let me tell you, the house is already in my mother’s name, and I don’t have a cent to my name! Plus, I want custody of Summer!” Brenda also pointed her finger at my nose, screaming, “Bitch! If you hadn’t latched onto my son, he wouldn’t have been soft enough to marry you! Divorce is because you didn’t treat him well enough, and now you’re dreaming of our assets? Fat chance!” Seeing them so eager to rush to their doom, I felt at ease. “Fine, I don’t want anything. I’ll leave with nothing.” Brenda was ecstatic, afraid I’d change my mind, and rushed Julian to book a divorce appointment at City Hall. The divorce went unusually smoothly. Stepping out of City Hall, he was officially my ex-husband. My ex-husband warned me not to tell anyone about the divorce. He probably had an image of a happy, perfect family outside, and if his clients or superiors found out, it would hurt his career. He probably always thought I was easy to manipulate. Submissive, only crying when I was hit or cursed. Even after divorce, he believed I wouldn’t defy him. “Who knows?” I curved my lips into a smile, completely abandoning my usual docile demeanor. “That depends on my mood.” He was shocked by my attitude, then flushed with anger. “You little bitch, how dare you talk to me like that!” He’d always been like this, thinking he was a king, that everyone should flatter and please him. Little did he know, my years of submissiveness were just for a multiplied repayment. My ex-husband raised his fist, intending to punch me in the head like he used to, to vent his fury. But this time, he didn’t get his way. I raised my slender arm and grabbed his wrist. “This is in front of City Hall, there are cameras everywhere. If you touch me, I’ll call the police.” His lips twitched violently, then a look of pain crossed his face, and he suddenly threw up. I understood immediately, and smiled. The curse was already kicking in.

Ignoring me, he rushed to the bathroom. Soon after, an ambulance pulled up to City Hall. My ex-husband, pale-faced, was carried away on a stretcher. He was always robust, capable of juggling two mistresses, a wife, and non-stop work with ease. Now, he was frothing at the mouth and collapsing in a bathroom. Under the bright sun, I finally laughed out loud. I used my remaining savings to rent a tiny, dilapidated apartment and sent out countless resumes. Unfortunately, I’d been out of the workforce for too long. Even with a good degree and experience at a major company, finding a suitable job was incredibly difficult. A month later, I received my first interview call. When Chloe, the HR person, scheduled the interview, she suggested I start as an assistant, with a relatively low salary. I smiled and said, “No problem.” When she saw the ‘Family’ section on my resume, her expression changed slightly. She looked at me with a complex mix of pity and guilt. She poured me a cup of coffee and asked me to wait in her office. When she returned, she told me, “You’re hired. Your salary will be ten thousand before tax.” On my first day, I saw my ex-husband in the Vice President’s office. He had always hidden his true salary and never told me where he worked. I never expected it to be here. Before we married, he was just a regular engineer. Six years later, he’d been promoted to Vice President. And I, meanwhile, had been trapped in the cage of marriage, becoming a housewife who struggled to even find an entry-level job. My ex-husband was just recovering from his illness, his face ashen. The moment he saw me, his first reaction was shock, panic, and disbelief. He practically accused me with his eyes, cursing me for being an inescapable shadow. However, before he could think too much, he suddenly bent over, clutched his mouth, and dry-heaved again. A foul smell filled the office. Chloe covered her nose, stepped back several paces, and said with disgust, “You were in the hospital for half a month, and your stomach issues still aren’t resolved?” I sneered inwardly. Stomach issues? This was definitely pregnancy. I remembered my own early pregnancy, with morning sickness every single day. Julian had used all sorts of sweet talk to convince me to let Richard and Brenda, who lived in the countryside, move in to help take care of me. Richard was a typical rural man, extremely chauvinistic. He wouldn’t even pick up a spoon if it fell. Brenda’s primary task, besides waiting on Richard, was to assign me chores: washing dishes, mopping floors, cooking. Julian would sometimes offer to help, but she’d wave him away. “Men can’t do these things!” After Brenda said that, Julian would genuinely lie on the sofa, playing on his phone with a clear conscience. I threw up continuously for three months, and even swallowing felt like a painful effort. At first, Julian would offer a few words of comfort. But later, he complained that my restless turning and tossing at night disturbed his sleep and told me to stop moving so much. I explained that it was because of nausea and chest tightness that I couldn’t sleep. He dismissed me impatiently. “All pregnant women go through this. My mother worked in the fields right up to her delivery. Why are you so weak? I think you just want to cause problems for my mother.” I wanted to argue, but he turned away, ending the discussion. You never know pain until you feel the knife yourself. Now he was trapped in a ten-month pregnancy a hundred times worse than mine had been. I sincerely hoped he would survive it. After all, what he owed me stretched far beyond a swollen belly. And I could not wait to see what came next.

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