My germaphobe wife wouldn’t let me share a bathroom with her, wouldn’t kiss me, and demanded I wear three condoms whenever we were intimate. Until I walked in on her passionately kissing her young assistant in the company’s office bathroom: “Darling, no condoms this time. Let’s have a baby.” I was furious. I stormed in right then, grabbed her arm, and yelled, “You said you had germaphobia! Why can he use your bathroom when I can’t? You don’t even let me kiss you!” Seeing the rage on my face, the assistant just sneered, “Because she loves me more than she loves you!” Seraphina violently yanked her hand away from mine, quickly wiping the spot I’d touched with a tissue. No explanation, just a stony silence and cold indifference. She even went back to chatting and laughing with the half-drenched assistant right in front of me. I slipped my wedding ring off and tossed it into the trash. “We’re done! I don’t need a wife who only has germaphobia when it comes to me.” Seraphina’s laughter instantly died. The air hung heavy for a moment. As I turned to leave, a few salespeople walked in, loaded with shopping bags. “Mr. Hayes, hello!” “These are the shoes and clothes Mrs. Hayes custom-ordered for you. Mr. Hayes, you’re such a lucky man; Mrs. Hayes loves you so much.” “You wouldn’t believe it, Mrs. Hayes wouldn’t even let us touch the custom-made items with our bare hands. She said her husband doesn’t like other people touching his things.” The salespeople greeted me politely, busy carefully placing the expensive luxury goods. My heart went utterly cold. Seraphina and I had been married for seven years, and she’d never given me a single gift. Besides, that brand wasn’t even one I liked. I guessed, with 100% certainty, that these luxury items were for her boy toy, Derek. What enraged me even more was that my wife wouldn’t let me kiss her and insisted on three condoms for intimacy, yet she just told another man she wanted to have his baby without any protection?! Just then, Seraphina and Derek emerged from the bathroom. Derek’s thin shirt was soaked, clinging to his body, clearly outlining his chiseled abs. Seraphina stared, mesmerized, her face flushed. Derek, with a look of feigned innocence, walked straight past me and snatched a bag that a salesperson was about to hand to me. “These are from Seraphina! They’re not for some other guy. You blind idiots, stop praising the wrong person!” The scene instantly plunged into awkward silence. The salespeople exchanged surprised glances between me and Seraphina. When they saw her, usually so aloof, gazing at Derek with doting affection, they quickly clammed up. She truly had no regard for my dignity, always trampling my pride into the dirt. “Are you happy with all these, babe?” “Yeah, but I don’t have much space. I can’t fit these…” “Then just leave them here. I don’t mind if you use my lounge and bathroom. Everything I have, you can use.” Seraphina smiled suggestively, “Including me, darling.” Derek grinned from ear to ear, shooting a triumphant, challenging look my way. Then he leaned down and kissed Seraphina’s lips. He probably thought I’d get jealous and fly into a rage like I used to, but no. I was done with Seraphina. The salespeople held their breath, not daring to speak. They hadn’t expected these expensive gifts weren’t for me, but for some other guy Seraphina was seeing. “Look at you, your shirt’s all wet. Why don’t I help you change?” As she spoke, she lifted her delicate, porcelain-like hands and began unbuttoning Derek’s shirt. They stood so close, as if they wanted to merge into one. The salespeople quickly said their goodbyes and practically ran out, not daring to linger for another second. But I knew, from this moment on, the news of my wife cheating on me would spread throughout the city. “Why don’t you just strip down and embrace each other? Wouldn’t that be more satisfying?” At my icy sarcasm, Seraphina pulled away from Derek, then spun around, glaring at me. “Liam, that’s enough! I’ve tolerated you for far too long.” “You have nothing better to do all day than pick fights with me, do you?” I tugged hard at my tie. I worked so much I barely had time to eat; when would I have time to pick fights with her? “You’re wrong. I’ve tolerated you for too long—to the point where I can’t anymore. So, I’m granting your germaphobia, and I’m granting you and your boy toy your little show of affection right in front of me.” “Divorce? All I want is a divorce.”

“Bang!” Seraphina was so enraged by my words that she grabbed the ashtray from the desk and threw it at me. I didn’t have time to dodge and took the hit. Blood trickled down my forehead, drop by drop. Neither of us spoke, just glared at each other in the frigid air. I remembered seven years ago. Seraphina’s family company, Hayes Corp, faced a financial crisis. Her father brought her to my doorstep to propose a marriage alliance. Seraphina was at her peak then, as beautiful as an angel. I was very much in love with her. Plus, she was my college crush, my ‘one who got away,’ so I agreed to her father’s proposal. But Seraphina rarely smiled. She never refused to share a room with me, but her only conditions were that I couldn’t kiss her lips and had to wear three condoms. I thought it was just her extreme germaphobia, until one day, while shopping, I saw her and Derek walking hand-in-hand in the mall, even kissing occasionally. It was then that I understood. Derek was her unrequited love, her ‘white moonlight,’ and her so-called germaphobia was only for me. I untied my tie and wiped the blood from my forehead. Seraphina was momentarily stunned; perhaps she hadn’t expected her actions to have such consequences. But it didn’t matter anymore. Derek suddenly reached out and grabbed Seraphina’s hand, his face full of feigned hurt. “Seraphina, please don’t fight. Is my presence causing trouble between you two? Maybe I should just leave the company!” “I’m so sorry, Liam. It’s all my fault, please don’t blame…” “Can you just shut up?” I snarled, staring coldly at Derek. His voice was utterly grating and irritating. He wasn’t genuinely apologizing; he was probably celebrating inside. Seraphina, however, was incredibly sympathetic, comforting him. “It’s not your fault. Why apologize to him?” “Liam, apologize to Derek right now!” Her voice held an undeniable authority, but I was just as unwilling to yield to her. Just then, several voices echoed from outside the door. “Seraphina, why should you grovel for an apology from him? Why not just fire him and kick him out?” “Exactly! He thinks he can hog everything just because he married you. If Hayes Corp hadn’t been in trouble back then, you never would’ve married him. He’s the one who broke you two up.” Hah. There they were, those vultures, squawking again. They’d always used their friendship with Seraphina to sneer and mock me. If it weren’t for Seraphina, I would have put those dogs in their place long ago. “What do you mean ‘broke us up’? Hayes Corp was on the verge of bankruptcy and came begging me for a marriage alliance to save it. Where were all of you then? Why didn’t you jump out and say it would break up Seraphina and Derek?” “Where were you then? Let me think… Ah, right. You were all hiding from her, afraid she’d ask you for money, so you didn’t just hide; you blocked her, didn’t you?” I watched those hypocrites with a cold, humorless smile. They were so furious they couldn’t utter a word in rebuttal, just stared, wide-eyed, for what felt like an eternity. “That’s enough, Liam! If you have a problem, take it out on me, not my friends…” “The divorce papers will be sent by my lawyer later today.” “Liam!!!” I was already out of the office when she screamed my name. As I walked through the building, I noticed all the employees giving me strange looks. “Mr. Hayes finally stood up for himself! You wouldn’t believe it, Seraphina and Derek often nap together on the same couch.” “Yeah, sometimes when you pass the office, you can even hear… suggestive noises…”

Just then, I got a call from my housekeeper at home. “Mr. Hayes, you need to come home right away.” “A woman claiming to be Derek’s mother just let herself in with a key. She brought a lot of relatives and said this is her home now, and she’s staying permanently.” “They even kicked me out! Even your mother came to visit you, but that woman drove her away with her behavior.” No sooner had the housekeeper finished than I received another call. My mother, Eleanor’s, voice on the phone was seething: “Liam! Look at the woman you married! Her blatant affair with that boy toy is now public knowledge.” “Even your own home has become his family’s home! You need to divorce Seraphina immediately. It’s better to have no wife than a woman like her.” My rage flared. I stomped to the parking garage to get my car, only to find it gone. I asked security to pull up the surveillance footage to see who took it. When I saw Derek’s smug, arrogant face, I smiled a truly chilling smile. “Call the police for me. Taking my car without my permission is theft.” “But Ms. Hayes gave him…” I clapped the security guard on the shoulder. “Either call the police, or pack your things and go home. Your choice.” Without another word, the security guard quickly pulled out his phone and dialed. Only then did I turn and leave, asking my assistant to bring another car to drive me home. I opened the security camera app on my phone and watched Derek’s mother, Brenda, wearing my mother’s expensive silk pajamas, imperiously bossing my housekeepers around like a queen. If they didn’t do things to her liking, she’d kick them, treating them like dogs. “Hmph, what are you looking at? I’ll fire you penniless losers.” “Remember, from now on, you’ll treat me as the lady of the house, got it?” Watching her arrogant behavior on the monitor, she was just like her son. Well done. Even my home dared to be occupied. I immediately called the police myself. What’s that saying? We should be good citizens and ask the police for help when needed. I was about to call my friends to handle it, but then I thought, calling the police is better. After all, her son was already squatting in jail, so I might as well go all the way and send his mother in too. The whole family should be together, right? “Go and make sure that woman pays for the pajamas she wore and all the expensive supplements she ate. Every penny.” “Yes, sir!” I didn’t go back to the desecrated house; instead, I went to another of my properties. Before I even stepped inside, my phone started ringing off the hook. It was Seraphina. I ignored every single call. I unlocked the door, walked in, tossed my jacket onto the sofa, then went to the liquor cabinet, poured a drink, and took a sip. I’d barely had two sips when the door was violently kicked open from the outside. Seraphina burst in, seething with anger. The moment she saw me, her eyes were like those of a mortal enemy. She grabbed whatever she could to throw at me. I easily dodged them with my drink in hand. “Liam, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Why did you call the police and have Derek and his mother arrested? They didn’t steal anything from you. Why would you treat them like thieves and give them criminal records?” Faced with Seraphina’s outburst, I remained completely calm. I gently swirled the wine in my glass, my gaze not even landing on Seraphina. “The car and the house are mine. They—mother and son—took my car and moved into my house without asking me. If that’s not stealing, what is?” “Oh, and the divorce papers have been sent. Remember to sign them.” Seraphina’s face flushed crimson with fury. She lunged at me, raising her hand to strike my face. I caught her wrist. “When I loved you, I could tolerate everything about you. But now that my love is gone, I won’t allow you to act crazy in front of me anymore.” “Hmph, Liam, I’ll tell you something too.” “I don’t need your help anymore. Hayes Corp is mine. I can kick you out and keep you down forever.” “I’ll give you one more chance. Go to the police station now, grovel for an apology, and tell them it was all a misunderstanding so they’ll clear their records.” As soon as she finished speaking, she violently yanked her hand away from mine. I pulled out my phone and called my assistant: “No compromises. I want them to stay locked up, no matter what.”

That same night, Seraphina went back and messaged all the company shareholders. She intended to strip me of all my positions. The next day, when I returned to the company and walked into the conference room with my assistant, I saw Derek sitting next to Seraphina. He glared at me with an unfathomable hatred, mixed with a hint of smug triumph. It seemed Seraphina had pulled a lot of strings and used a lot of connections to bail him out. “You don’t need to sit down, because that seat no longer belongs to you.” “So, you’re trying to kick me to the curb now that I’ve served my purpose?” “Glad you understand.” As soon as Seraphina finished, she turned to face the other shareholders. “From now on, the position of company VP will be held by Derek. And Liam, effective immediately, is nothing.” At her words, all the shareholders exchanged glances, casting surprised looks my way. But I calmly walked over, ignoring Seraphina’s warning, and sat down. Derek slammed his hand on the table. “Liam, are you deaf or blind? Didn’t you hear Seraphina?” “This company belongs to the Hayes family, not the Seraphina family! You’re just working for her. What right do you have to be so arrogant?” I fiddled with my lighter, a meaningful smile playing on my lips as I watched the enraged Derek. “What the hell are you laughing at? You’re nothing now, still trying to act tough?” “Get up and get out of the company right now, or I’ll call security to throw you out. You don’t want to leave in such a humiliating way, do you?!” I didn’t bother with that rabid dog. Instead, I simply asked Seraphina one question. “Are you really going to kick me out of the company for Derek?” Seraphina nodded without hesitation. “Yes!” “Since our marriage was an alliance, and now I’ve overcome my crisis and grown my own wings, I won’t humble myself anymore.” Humble herself? She thought being married to me all these years, leveraging my power to climb the ladder, was her humbling herself. Ha ha. What a load of bullshit. “Slam!” Seraphina slapped the divorce papers onto the table. “Didn’t you say you wanted a divorce? I’ve already signed them. The company is mine, and you were just working for me.” “So, regarding assets, I’ll only give you ten million. I don’t want any of your things. That’s it.” I picked up the divorce papers and skimmed them. When I saw the contents, I couldn’t help but laugh in anger. “Seraphina, since you want to be so heartless with me, I won’t hold back either.” “Hmph, who needs you to hold back for me? Just like back then, you were the one who grandiosely accepted the marriage alliance, and painstakingly helped me. I never asked you for anything.” Derek chimed in, “Did you hear that? Can you finally get lost?” But instead of standing up, I calmly pulled out a cigarette, placed it between my lips, and slowly lit it, taking a drag. Seeing that I was unmoved, Seraphina’s face instantly darkened. “Derek, call security and have them remove him.” “Yes!” Soon after, the security guards rushed in. “Grab Liam and throw him out like a dog! Remember, if he resists, beat him hard. Did you hear that?!” “Go!” Derek ordered the security guards, arms crossed. And they moved. But the targets they surrounded weren’t me; they were Derek. One by one, they kicked Derek, sending him flying and crashing to the floor. “Bang!” Seraphina shot up from her seat. “What are you doing?! I told you to kick Liam out!” I clapped my hands, a joyful smile on my face. “They didn’t hit the wrong person! They hit the dog.” “The company used to be Hayes Corp, but after my investment, it’s long since been my corporation, not yours anymore.”

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I was in anaphylactic shock from a severe peanut allergy. But my wife snatched my EpiPen, claiming our neighbor’s dog had a mosquito bite and needed to reduce swelling. “Hannah, the EpiPen…” I gasped, my voice a strangled plea for help, every fiber of my being fighting for air. Hannah grabbed it, yelling towards the door. “Mason! Snowball’s paw is swollen from a bite. This import works fast. Here, take it!” She handed it to our neighbor, Mason, like offering a prize. Mason, cradling his poodle, glanced at me sprawled on the floor, a smirk on his lips. “Awkward. Mr. Owen doesn’t look too well, does he?” “Ignore him, he’s faking.” Hannah stepped over me with utter disgust. “He just doesn’t want me to give you the medicine. He’s throwing a fit. Pathetic.” My vision blurred. I watched Mason inject the medicine-the one meant to save my life-into his dog. My life, to her, was worth less than a neighbor’s dog. She had no idea her entire lavish lifestyle was funded by me. Even the designer watch she’d just given away was mine. Now that I saw the truth clearly, this so-called “sugar baby” was done pretending.

Daniel POV The cleaning lady next door secretly called 911 and saved me. I spent three days in the ICU. Hannah never called. On my discharge day, Hannah threw a “gratitude party” to celebrate my near-death experience. But the guest of honor was Mason. I walked into the ballroom, my face still swollen. Everyone was raising their glasses, celebrating. No one spared a glance for the man who had just returned from hell. I walked to the main table, looking at Mason’s perfectly maintained face, and with a flick of my wrist, I poured the dark red wine onto the carpet, where it spread into an ugly stain. “I want a divorce,” I said calmly, setting down the empty glass. The ballroom went silent for a second, then erupted in laughter. A few neighbors in custom suits pointed and whispered. “Did the anaphylaxis mess with his brain?” “No sense of occasion,” another murmured. “Absolutely none.” Hannah’s face flooded with crimson rage. She snatched an ornate cupcake from the table and hurled it at my feet. “Daniel, what is wrong with you?!” Hannah looked absolutely furious. “It was one stupid shot! Are you really that petty? Do you have any idea who’s here tonight? Mason is the HOA President! Are you trying to make me a laughingstock?” I ignored the mess on the floor, my gaze fixed on Mason’s left hand. He was wearing a Patek Philippe. But that was my watch! I bought it at Sotheby’s three years ago. Hannah told me it was sent for servicing. Yet here it was, on that damn neighbor’s wrist.

Daniel POV Hannah followed my gaze, her face changing. She instinctively turned sideways, shielding Mason’s wrist. “How much longer are you going to humiliate me like this?” she hissed, her voice low and filled with disappointment. “That watch was covering this year’s HOA premium! For the VIP parking spot! Do you have any idea how many dinners I had to sit through with the board president just to get our family into the inner circle here? What do you know about building real connections?” She turned, putting on a wronged expression, and started explaining to the surrounding neighbors: “What’s wrong with me lending Mason, the President, my watch for a few days? He’s helping us appraise it! Besides, if it weren’t for him, would we have gotten an 80% discount on our property fees? Would we have priority in choosing a parking spot?” “Do you even understand networking? You fool!” She made it sound so reasonable. Embezzling her husband’s millions to lavish on her lover, all packaged as a strategic investment in networking for the family’s social climbing. She was enduring humiliation for this family, and I, apparently, was ungrateful. The surrounding neighbors chimed in, accusing me of being ignorant and unworthy of Hannah’s painstaking efforts. Mason chuckled at an opportune moment, flicking some imaginary ash from a cigar. “Hannah, it’s fine. If Mr. Owen is so possessive, I’ll simply return the watch. To an artist like me, such things are merely decorative.” He made a show of taking it off, but his movements were slow, his eyes full of provocation, as if to say: I wore it. What will you do? I found it utterly laughable. Before, to protect Hannah’s ego, I played the role of the mediocre husband in this house, letting her use my money to keep up appearances. She thought I was a moocher who couldn’t survive without her. I pulled the divorce papers from my briefcase and handed them to her. “Sign it. The house is already listed. The agent will bring potential buyers tomorrow.” Hannah froze. The crowd of onlookers froze too. “Selling the house?” someone whispered. “It seems the Owens are really broke if they’re liquidating their home.” “Daniel, have you lost your mind?” Hannah hadn’t even had a chance to react when the ballroom doors burst open. My parents stormed in, clearly Hannah’s backup. Eleanor, my mother, snatched the papers from the floor without reading a word and flung them against my chest. “Daniel! Have you forgotten everything this family stands for?” She pointed a trembling finger at my nose. “Do you know how much Hannah has had to swallow just to make you look good in front of these people? And you repay her by humiliating her the moment you’re back on your feet? Selling the house? Have you thought for one second about what her parents will say about us?” I remembered her carrying me for miles to the hospital when I had a fever as a child. Back then, she loved me. Now, she stood by the woman who nearly killed me. Hannah had completely brainwashed my parents. She was the model wife, sacrificing herself for the family, and I was just an oblivious simpleton, ignorant of social graces. A sudden dog bark interrupted my thoughts. Snowball, Mason’s poodle, barked wildly at me. Kyle, Mason’s assistant, immediately cried out. “Oh, Mr. Owen, please don’t scare Snowball! She’s descended from champion dogs, very timid!” My mother instinctively reached out to comfort the dog. “Oh, Snowball, don’t be scared, Grandma’s here. Don’t let this unfilial son frighten you.” In that moment, my heart turned cold. Even a dog was more important than me. Kyle, seeing the situation, spoke with a sarcastic tone. “Mr. Owen, you need to look at the big picture.” Kyle held up his wine glass. “President Mason is an artist, and his son is a future genius. If a genius’s skin even gets a little red, it’s a loss to the art world. Compared to that, what’s a little allergic reaction of yours? Wouldn’t everyone agree?” A chorus of agreement rose around us. “Exactly, Hannah is so understanding.” “Disrupting community unity over such a small matter is just selfish.” Seeing the public opinion turn overwhelmingly against me, Hannah seized the opportunity. She reached out, trying to grab the briefcase from my hand. Her movements were practiced and natural, just like the countless times she’d taken my credit cards. “Honey, stop causing a scene. Give me the papers, we’ll talk about it at home.” I dodged her, tapping the documents again. “I don’t explain the law to those who don’t understand it. Sign it, or I’ll see you in court.” Richard, my dad, slammed his cane heavily on the ground, producing a dull thud. In his eyes, discussing court in front of such a crowd was airing our family’s dirty laundry.

Daniel POV SMACK! A loud, stinging slap landed hard on my face. Richard stood before me, his chest heaving, his palm still trembling slightly. “You bastard!” Richard roared, his voice echoing through the ballroom. “Making a scene in such high society? You have no shame, but I do! Hannah quit her job to take care of you, dedicating herself entirely to this family. Have you no conscience?” I probed my loose tooth with my tongue, swallowing the metallic taste of blood. I remembered waking up in the ICU three days ago, alone, with only a nurse coldly urging me to pay the fees. I nearly died, and no one cared. Now, simply for speaking the truth to maintain some semblance of dignity, I received a slap from my own father. Turns out, in their minds, their son’s life was less valuable than a “good person” reputation in this hypocritical community. Eleanor looked at the blood on my lip with a pang of concern, but she still clung to my arm, warning me in a low voice. “Look at who’s around! President Mason is a prominent figure. Don’t mess up our family’s affairs because of some women outside!” You see. These were my parents. In their minds, my desperate desire for a divorce could only mean I had someone else outside, that I was ungrateful. I pushed my tongue against my loosened tooth, looking at these parents who would sacrifice their son’s dignity for the sake of appearances. Fine. That slap, it snapped the last thread of hope. I looked at my father’s trembling hand, at my mother’s evasive yet accusatory gaze. When I was little, he taught me to have backbone. Now, for the sake of so-called appearances, he forced me to bow down to the person who almost killed me. Well struck. That slap, it settled the score: twenty years of raising me, and whatever father-son bond we had, were now over. I slowly raised my head, looking at Eleanor with the eyes of a stranger. “Mom, do you remember when I was wrongly accused of stealing as a child, and you took me to school to demand justice? The person you are now, it’s just… strange.” Eleanor’s eyes flickered, then were quickly masked by shame that morphed into anger. Mason stood tall, swirling his red wine, wearing a look of amusement as he watched the show.

Daniel POV Several phone cameras, originally aimed at the stage, quietly turned to me. The community’s lifestyle vloggers were getting to work. Hannah pulled out an ice pack and rushed over, pressing it against my face. That ice pack was originally for Mason’s son. Her voice choked. “Honey, I know your company’s cash flow is tight lately, and you want to transfer assets by divorcing… I don’t blame you. For richer or poorer, I’ll never leave you.” Richard, my father, furious, raised his cane to strike again, cursing me as incompetent and immoral. Everyone was advising me to be a good man, saying I’d never find a wife as good as Hannah, even crying and begging me not to drive her away. The moment the ice pack touched my skin, I caught a pungent medicinal scent. It was the smell of dog mosquito repellent. I pushed her away, disgusted, and brushed off my shoulder where she’d touched me. “Stop acting. It makes me sick.” The push wasn’t particularly hard, but Hannah stumbled back four or five steps, deliberately colliding with the corner of a table. “Ah!” She let out an exaggerated scream, instinctively clutching her stomach. Kyle, Mason’s assistant, immediately rushed over to help her up, pointing a finger at my nose and roaring. “Daniel, are you even human?! Hannah has had so many ovulation shots to give you an heir! She’s two months pregnant!” Eleanor’s purse dropped to the floor. She rushed to Hannah, forgetting all about her dignity. “My grandchild! Hannah, are you okay?” Richard, who moments ago was ready to hit me, now looked utterly panicked and remorseful. He turned to me and yelled. “What are you staring at?! Call 911 immediately! If you hurt the Owen family’s lineage, I’ll break your legs!” Hannah leaned into Eleanor’s embrace, giving me a weak glance, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. The surrounding neighbors suddenly understood. Their scornful looks morphed into mockery. “So he’s broke and trying to ditch his pregnant wife, huh?” “Be a decent human being, your wife’s pregnant!” “What a scumbag.” My gaze swept over the plump woman leading the charge. Just last week, she’d been begging Hannah for a recommendation to get her son into a private school. And the bald man, holding a bottle of wine bought with Mason’s bulk-order kickbacks. My parents clung to me, hissing at me to apologize now. I watched the whole pathetic performance and let out a cold laugh. “Two months pregnant?” Two months ago, I was in Europe for a three-week M&A negotiation, I was over 5,000 miles from here. And before that, three years ago, to prevent Hannah from using “body changes” as an excuse to avoid intimacy, I suggested we be DINKs. After that, our sexless marriage was a sham. No rush. let the bullets fly. We’ll play it slow.

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My wife, Cassandra, knew I could resurrect every time I died. So after that accident, she didn’t hesitate. She ripped out my heart to save Julian, her true love. When the doctors presented my empty shell of a body to her… She simply said, “Just get some sleep. You’ll be fine.” But she had no idea. That was my very last chance to resurrect. Cassandra carried my body into the basement of the Emergency Response Team headquarters. My organs had already been removed, leaving nothing but an empty shell. My face looked peaceful, almost rosy, as if I were just sleeping. She casually opened the cryogenic chamber, her movements precise and practiced. As she placed me inside, her hands were steady, not a flicker of hesitation. “Just sleep for now,” her voice was eerily calm. “Didn’t you always say it didn’t matter if you died?” Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. I’d cooked a feast at home, even bought her favorite Cabernet Sauvignon. Seeing her home on time, a rare treat, made me grin like an idiot. Her phone rang just as she raised her wine glass. It was her second-in-command: “Captain, Julian got caught in a landslide during a patrol in the mountains. He’s trapped…” Her hand twitched, and the wine glass slipped, shattering on the floor. “How badly is he hurt?” Her voice was already hoarse. “Very badly. His internal organs…” She didn’t wait for him to finish, grabbed her jacket, and bolted. I reached out, grabbing her arm. “I’ll come too. I can help.” Her gaze flickered back to me, complex. Not sympathy, not concern, but pure calculation. By the time we arrived, he’d been pulled out, but his heart was severely damaged, and he needed a transplant, fast. She stared at Julian, unconscious on the stretcher, her fingers trembling. Those hands, usually as steady as a rock, were shaking violently now. It was a panic I’d never seen from her before. Then she looked at me. Her eyes were bloodshot. “I’m sorry,” she said. Before I could even process what she meant, a sharp pain exploded at the back of my neck. Before darkness consumed me, I saw her nod to the doctor. They’d planned this all along. As I was wheeled into the operating room, eerily, my soul seemed to detach, floating free from my body. I hovered, watching everything unfold. I saw her standing right beside the operating table, her face devoid of emotion as the surgeon’s scalpel sliced into me. Her eyes were blank, as if my body was just a tool to be discarded. “His organs are perfectly healthy, and the match is exact,” the doctor’s voice seemed to drift from a great distance. “More than enough to save Julian.” I watched my own heart being removed, placed in a cooling box, and whisked into the adjacent operating room. She followed the box out, not even sparing me a final glance. After she placed me in the cryogenic chamber, she sat nearby, working on some files, occasionally glancing up at me. I floated before her, desperate to see a flicker of guilt in her eyes. But her gaze passed right through me, settling on her phone. A message from the doctor: Surgery successful. He’s recovering well. A relieved smile touched her lips. She casually tossed my medical file aside and left the basement. The file lay open, starkly displaying: Organ Donor – Voluntary Donation. She couldn’t even bother to invent a believable lie. She simply assumed I’d be waking up soon anyway. But what she didn’t know was, this time, I wouldn’t be waking up ever again. Because that ability to resurrect? I’d used my last charge saving her friend the previous time.

My resurrection ability was real, no doubt about it. Three years ago, after that plane crash, I was the sole survivor. Just before they pulled me out of the wreckage, a voice whispered to me: You have three chances to resurrect. I used the first on myself, of course, to simply survive the crash. Cassandra was the Captain, leading the rescue efforts. Standing before the plane’s wreckage, a cold aura clung to her, a true warrior in every sense. I was curled up on a stretcher, shivering uncontrollably. She turned her face toward me, her dark eyes swept over me, as if they could see straight into my soul. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “You’re safe now.” Her voice was deep and soothing, like a warm current washing over my heart. In that instant, I was utterly captivated. The voice had told me: Maintain a marriage with your fated one for three years, and you can stay in this world forever. Looking at the stern, beautiful woman before me, I decided to take a chance. At twenty-eight, it was the first time I’d ever wanted something so fiercely. Cassandra looked to be in her early thirties, tall, with a lean, strong physique honed by years of training. She was slender, yet every muscle was defined and powerful. She moved with a distinctive rhythm, a subtle grace born from rigorous training. Every time I passed the Emergency Response team headquarters, I could pick her out from her silhouette. I began approaching her, just as an ordinary guy. Every day, I’d bring coffee for the rescue team, and late-night snacks for those working overtime. I knew I was acting like a humble admirer, but I didn’t care. They said Cassandra never accepted favors from men easily. But my coffee, she took. She was always polite and kind, but she kept me at arm’s length. The team members felt sorry for me, saying I was blind to reality. “Cassandra never gives any man hope. Don’t waste your time,” they’d warn me. But what I didn’t tell them was, every time I’d “accidentally” stumble, she was always the first to steady me. She’d say “Be careful,” but her hand would linger on mine for just a moment too long. Until one day, I overheard her on the phone, her voice laced with an affection she called a man’s name. It was Julian, her former partner. They’d known each other for ages, so I heard. Julian was incredibly handsome. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven. I should have given up right then. But back then, I still had two chances left, and I was young and headstrong. I truly believed I could make it through those three years. If I’d known then that my second chance would be used to save her friend, and my third would be ended by her own hands, I would’ve stayed far, far away from her from the very beginning. But love, you know, makes you blind.

Julian was Cassandra’s partner from their early days as soldiers. Everyone in the rescue team knew they were once the most formidable duo. In missions demanding perfect synergy, an observer and an operative had to be so in sync, almost telepathic, to succeed. So after their discharge, Cassandra and Julian joined the emergency response team together, their coordination as seamless as if they were one person. I once secretly looked through Cassandra’s old photo albums. In the photos, Julian, in his uniform, was dashing and self-assured, with a confident spark in his eyes—a kind of sharp handsomeness I, an ordinary man, could never hope to achieve. And Cassandra, standing beside him, looked up at him with such tender adoration. Later, the team members told me Cassandra had been in love with Julian for years. From training camp to active duty, from mock drills to real missions, everyone assumed they’d end up together. But Julian, in the end, rejected her. “We’re not right for each other. You deserve better,” he’d said. He’d said this just as he was about to deploy, and Cassandra was still checking his gear for him. They remained the best partners, acting as if nothing had happened. But only in the dead of night would Cassandra push herself with extra training, until she was utterly exhausted. Later, Julian voluntarily transferred to a remote regional rescue division. On the day he left, Cassandra stood outside the airport, watching his silhouette disappear beyond security. Her fingers unconsciously stroked the ring she’d never gotten to give him. The team said it was the most utterly heartbroken they’d ever seen Cassandra. I met Cassandra about six months after Julian left. She was like a still, dark pool then, her very smiles felt cold. But I didn’t care. Young and headstrong, I believed time would wash away all past hurts. “She never had eyes for anyone else. You think she’s gentle? That’s just her professional demeanor. Forget you, even male models, handsome guys who brought her flowers, she’d smile and accept them, then turn around and just toss them.” That’s what the veteran members of the team used to tell me. They hated seeing me constantly showing up at the rescue headquarters, trying to be kind by warning me not to humiliate myself. But I didn’t believe them. I told myself to let the past be the past. Even if I was just stepping into someone else’s story, I was okay with that. Even the on-duty rescue nurse couldn’t take it anymore. “Leo,” she’d said, “how can you still not get it? Cassandra visits Julian every year, right on schedule. They might be miles apart, but their bond is deeper than anything you’ve built with her, every single day you’re by her side.” I truly didn’t understand. Didn’t understand why Cassandra accepted my pursuit. Didn’t understand why she married me. Looking back now, maybe from the day I used my second chance to save her friend, she’d already started planning.

That rescue, the one that changed everything, happened in my second year of knowing Cassandra. Torrential rain caused a massive landslide, burying an entire village. Cassandra led the charge, with her closest friend and comrade, Sarah, covering her from behind. No one noticed the massive boulder teetering precariously overhead. “Cassandra!” Sarah’s voice ripped through the downpour. The moment Sarah shoved Cassandra clear, the boulder crashed down. “No!” Cassandra lunged for the wreckage like a madwoman, only to be held back by three teammates. The rain plastered her long hair to her pale, distraught face. Back at the rescue headquarters, she knelt in the rain, trembling uncontrollably, like a wounded animal. It was the first time I’d ever seen her lose control. The usually composed and calm Cassandra could be reduced to such utter despair. Sarah was Cassandra’s childhood friend, more like a sister. They’d trained together, joined the force together, and later retired to join the rescue team together. Their bond was thicker than blood. When Sarah was pulled out, her heart had already stopped. The doctors said even if they revived her, she’d need a heart transplant, and the medical costs would be astronomical. “Please, I’m begging you, you have to save her!” Cassandra gripped the doctor’s hand, her voice raw. “Whatever it costs, I’ll find a way.” But she’d only recently retired, most of her income tied up in living expenses. Her friends did their best to chip in, but it was only a fraction of what was needed. I watched her pacing the hospital corridor, her eyes bloodshot, as if she hadn’t slept in days. “It should have been me who died,” she kept repeating. “Why did she save me?” In that moment, my heart ached so much I could barely breathe. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “I can donate my heart,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “My blood type and Sarah’s are a perfect match.” Cassandra’s head snapped up. “Are you insane?” Her voice was hoarse. “You’ll die!” I smiled at her, leaning in to whisper, “Trust me, I have a special ability. I won’t die.” She still didn’t agree, but I went ahead with the surgery behind her back. Not only did I donate my heart, but I also helped the son of a wealthy businessman who needed an organ transplant. In return, his family provided enormous funds for Sarah’s treatment. Days later, I woke up. When I opened my eyes, Cassandra was sitting by my bedside. She hadn’t slept in days; dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes, yet she stubbornly refused to leave. “You’re awake,” her voice was raspy as she carefully took my hand. “Does it hurt?” It was the first time I’d seen her look so genuinely gentle. Sarah recovered quickly, and Cassandra started visiting me at the hospital often. She’d peel apples for me, feed me water, her gaze so focused it made my heart flutter. Sometimes, when I fell asleep, I’d feel a soft kiss on my forehead. She began sharing her stories with me—funny anecdotes from training with Sarah when they were kids, the rigorous evaluations in the force, and how terrified she was of losing someone important to her. Her eyes were soft as she spoke, yet there was something else hidden within them, something I couldn’t quite decipher. Later, she proposed to me. I nodded, tears streaming down my face. She kissed them away, holding me tight. And after that, I applied to join the rescue team as an auxiliary medic, just to be by her side. It was then that Julian was transferred back to headquarters.

The day Julian returned, the entire rescue team was buzzing with excitement. He stood before the headquarters building, his posture still commanding, his handsome features now graced with a new, mature charm. Cassandra stood by the third-floor window, watching him for a full ten minutes. I stood behind her, noticing the slight tremble in her hands. “Julian’s as dashing as ever,” the team members whispered. “He’s done incredible work on the border these past few years, helped so many people, I hear.” At the welcome reception that evening, Julian raised his glass to Cassandra. “Cassandra, thank you,” he said. Cassandra, rarely one to drink much, was visibly tipsy. Her eyes were red as she replied, “Welcome back.” Those four simple words silenced the entire room. Everyone knew how long she’d held them inside. I sat quietly, watching them exchange a knowing smile. A sudden, chilling premonition washed over me. From that day on, Cassandra rarely came home. She claimed to be preparing for some critical rescue mission, but I knew she was with Julian, helping him refamiliarize himself with all the equipment and protocols. I’d cook dinner and wait, but she’d say she was in meetings. Yet, colleagues told me they’d seen Cassandra and Julian having dinner, chatting for hours. If I asked where she’d been, she’d lean in and kiss my forehead. “Just handing over work to Julian. Don’t overthink it.” But I clearly saw her phone light up on the coffee table. It was a text from Julian. She instinctively pressed the screen off, then hugged me a little tighter. She became increasingly tender, so tender it made my heart pound with a terrible unease. Every day, she’d come home with my favorite desserts. When I had insomnia, she’d sing me to sleep. For my birthday, she even took the day off just to be with me. As if worried I’d overthink things, she started acting overtly affectionate towards me in front of others. Sometimes, even in front of Julian, she’d deliberately stand on tiptoe to kiss me. But Julian’s smile was strange, as if he were watching a performance. Was she trying to reassure me, or make him jealous?

Months later, Sarah, the woman I’d saved, finally passed away. Complications arose so suddenly; by the time they were discovered, it was too late for treatment. I remember that day vividly. Cassandra knelt by Sarah’s hospital bed, gripping her hand. “I’m so sorry, Sarah,” she whispered, “I failed to protect you.” After that, she started having sleepless nights. Sometimes she’d wake up in a cold sweat, clinging to me tightly. “If only we’d caught the complications sooner,” she’d say, her eyes cold. “If only I could’ve saved her faster.” I thought she was consumed by self-blame, but I missed the simmering resentment in her eyes when she looked at me. In her mind, if my resurrection ability could have been deployed more ‘efficiently,’ Sarah might still be alive. Days turned into weeks. I began having frequent nightmares, dreaming of Sarah standing by her hospital bed, accusing me: “Why didn’t you save me sooner?” Cassandra would hold me when I woke up with a gasp, whispering reassurances. But her kisses felt hollow, missing the warmth they once held. Then came our wedding anniversary. I’d just finished setting the dinner table when the emergency call came in. A massive landslide in the mountains. Julian, leading the advance team, was trapped. We rushed to the hospital. The doctor’s words were grim: “Extensive internal organ damage. An immediate organ transplant is essential.” I watched Cassandra’s hands tremble, yet her eyes were eerily calm. She turned to me, her gaze something I’d never seen before. In that moment, I finally understood the reason for her recent strange behavior. But it was too late. “I’m sorry,” she said. As the anesthetic needle pierced my neck, I saw a flicker of tears in her eyes. “You said you couldn’t die,” her voice was barely a whisper. “Julian’s different. He can’t survive a second time.” As I was wheeled into the operating room, I heard her instructing the doctors: “Take his heart first.” The instant the scalpel cut into my flesh, I remembered something Sarah once told me: “Cassandra is fiercely loyal, but once she’s set her mind on something, she becomes absolutely unwavering.” The truth was, ever since Sarah’s death, Cassandra had been figuring out how to exploit my resurrection ability. She’d been waiting for an opportunity, waiting for a reason that could justify it to herself. And Julian, he was the perfect reason. The surgery was a success. My soul floated in the hospital corridor, watching two figures being wheeled out of the operating rooms. One was Julian, his heartbeat steady. The other was me, my body hollowed out. “Julian’s going to be okay,” a nurse whispered. “The transplanted organ is in perfect condition.” Cassandra let out a shaky breath, her eyes red-rimmed. She held Julian’s hand, staying by his side all night. I floated beside her, watching her tuck him in. Her hands were gentle, as if she was afraid to hurt him. Afterward, she stood facing the window for a long time. “You’ve suffered so much,” she murmured, her voice a raw whisper. Who was she talking to? After I’d died once to save Sarah, she’d also watched over me like this, saying those very same words. But now, the body they wheeled into the temporary holding room had no heart left at all. “Cassandra,” the on-duty nurse called out, “What about Leo’s remains?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “330281”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance

After I was reborn, I poured my ‘best friend’ Veronica’s ashes down the drain. In my previous life, Veronica’s boyfriend cheated on her. He not only stole all her savings and fled but also left her with mountains of debt. Veronica was beaten to death by relentless debt collectors. In her final moments, she entrusted her daughter, Chloe, to me. To care for Chloe, my boyfriend, Brandon, broke up with me. My own parents cut me off. After I’d finally raised Chloe to adulthood, Veronica, who was supposed to be long dead, reappeared, arm-in-arm with Brandon. Brandon sneered, full of himself. “Veronica is a billionaire heiress. Who’s to say you weren’t only after her money by pretending to be her friend?” He paused, his gaze dismissive. “But now, seeing you’ve raised our daughter so well, it seems you’ve passed our little test.” I lunged forward, ready to tear into them, but my adoptive daughter Chloe actually slapped me across the face. “How dare you lay a hand on my parents?!” The shock sent a wave of nausea, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood before collapsing, unconscious, on the spot. When I woke again, I found myself reborn to the very day Veronica was beaten by the thugs.

“Cough, cough… Cassidy, you finally made it…” Veronica lay on the ground, covered in dirt, her body a canvas of green and purple bruises. Several deep gashes bled on her arms and legs. “Cassidy, what are you waiting for…? Cough, cough, get me to a hospital…” Veronica whispered, her voice barely a thread as she lay feebly on the ground. In my previous life, I’d rushed to find her after receiving her frantic call. Seeing her covered in blood, I panicked, desperate to call 911 for an ambulance. But Veronica insisted the location was too remote; she’d be dead by the time emergency services arrived. So, I personally carried her on my back, walking for over two hours back to the city to get her to a hospital. But now, remembering it was all her twisted scheme, a wave of profound disgust washed over me. “No need to call 911, it’s too remote here… Just carry me…” Veronica coughed a few times, her eyes, wide and pleading, fixed on mine. I feigned a grimace of discomfort, bending to massage my ankle. “I’m sorry, Veronica. I really want to carry you, but I just twisted my ankle. I simply can’t.” Fearing she wouldn’t believe me, I even pulled up my pant leg to show her. My ankle was already visibly swollen and red. In my previous life, I had endured excruciating pain to carry her. By the time we reached the hospital, my ankle was practically mangled, and it took a fortune to fix. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Veronica’s face drained of color, making her look genuinely on the brink of collapse. Just then, an SUV pulled up beside us. The driver, a kind-faced man, asked if we needed help. To keep up appearances, I quickly smiled and accepted. At the hospital, she was immediately rushed into the emergency room. Soon, a harried female doctor burst out, declaring Veronica had lost too much blood and needed a transfusion. “The hospital’s blood supply is critically low, and coordinating a transfer from another facility would take too long, jeopardizing her life,” Dr. Evelyn Reed explained urgently. “Ms. Veronica mentioned you’re a match. Come with me, we need your blood now.” A cold smile touched my lips at her words. The exact same line as before. This doctor, Dr. Reed, had used it as an excuse to strong-arm me into giving an unsafe amount of blood in my previous life. I’d been too overwhelmed to object then. Afterward, I was so weak and dizzy, the world spun. Veronica had seized the moment to beg me to care for her daughter, and in my dazed state, I’d simply nodded. So, I turned to Dr. Reed and said, “I’m sorry, but I’m on my period right now and already feeling weak. I can’t donate blood. You’ll have to find another way.” Dr. Reed, clearly taken aback, stomped her foot in frustration before rushing back into the ER. Another twenty minutes passed. Dr. Reed emerged again, her face etched with a performative sorrow. “My apologies, we did our best, but Ms. Veronica’s condition was too critical. There was nothing more we could do.” Her voice softened, dripping with false sympathy. “She’s still conscious. You can go in and say your final goodbyes.” I nodded, my expression completely serene, and walked inside. Sure enough, Veronica lay on the hospital bed, as pale and weak as she had been in my previous life, her voice a mere whisper as she barely breathed my name. I walked to her bedside. “What do you want to tell me?” Veronica’s eyes welled with feigned tears. “Cassidy, you’re my best friend. Why didn’t you give me blood? If you had, maybe I would have…” Dr. Reed chimed in, her voice dripping with righteous indignation. “Yes, Ms. Veronica truly thought of you as her best friend, yet you refused! Poor Ms. Veronica, so young, giving up too soon. You truly are heartless.” I replied, my voice flat, “Blame your hospital for not having basic supplies. How can you not have the blood a patient needs? If something happened to me because of an unsafe blood donation, would your hospital take responsibility?”

My words left Dr. Reed speechless. Veronica’s face twisted into an ugly mask, but she quickly composed herself, her eyes now brimming with fake tears. “It’s fine, don’t blame Cassidy. It’s just my bad luck…” She continued, her voice weak but laced with manipulative urgency. “I’m dying, but I have a daughter, barely a year old. She’s so helpless. Cassidy, you’re my best friend. Please, I beg you, raise her for me.” Dr. Reed, ever the bleeding heart, let two clear streams of tears fall. “See? Ms. Veronica is practically begging you. Just say yes! You’re her best friend! Could you really be so cruel as to refuse?” All I felt was a profound sense of annoyance. In my previous life, I’d given so much blood, leaving me dazed and weak, and Veronica had even colluded with Dr. Reed to set this whole trap. I’d been too soft-hearted, which was why I had agreed to care for her daughter. But my kindness hadn’t been repaid. Brandon harbored an immediate hostility towards the adopted girl, convinced she was my illegitimate child with some other man. He refused to listen to a single explanation, packed his bags, and walked out on me, simultaneously alienating himself from his own family. I was still in college then. Unable to juggle my studies and a baby, I had no choice but to drop out. Without a degree, I was condemned to grueling manual labor. To provide for the child, I worked three jobs a day, often surviving on only three or four hours of sleep. The child’s health was fragile from birth. She was in and out of hospitals, undergoing several major surgeries, draining money like a sieve. I gritted my teeth and took out a predatory loan. But with interest compounding, it became impossible to repay. The debt collectors were brutal, harassing everyone around me. My landlord refused to renew my lease, throwing me and the child out onto the street. To escape the collectors, I moved countless times, always into the most rundown, grimy places I could find. After slogging through the toughest ten years, I finally encountered a kind-hearted male boss. He was a single dad, and he sympathized with my struggles, taking me in to work at his barbecue joint. Once I had stable work, I thought about finding a partner. But with no home, no car, dirt poor, and a kid in her early teens—finding a partner was a pipe dream. I finally met a simple, honest man who claimed not to mind my circumstances, and I thought I could finally settle down. But after barely two months, he fled, leaving only a note apologizing and saying he still couldn’t let go of his ex-wife and kids. I gave up on ever finding love again. Eighteen years passed. The child I’d poured my life into was now an adult. But then, at her celebration party, the impossible happened: Veronica, who was supposed to be dead, appeared. And claimed it was all just a test. Did I really need her as a friend? I’d wasted the most precious eighteen years of my life! Without that child, I would have graduated, landed a great job, built a respectable career, and had a loving, happy family. My life should have flourished, but she destroyed it! Even the child I’d poured my entire heart and soul into, at the first sign of conflict, chose her biological parents and turned against me. The hatred surging within me threatened to drown me whole. I clenched my fists, each word a venomous whisper. “No, I refuse.” “I’ll take her to an orphanage, but I will absolutely not raise your child for you.”

Veronica dropped her dying act entirely, shooting upright and unleashing a torrent of furious curses at me. “Are you even human, Cassidy? You claim to be my sister, but you’re nothing but an ungrateful, cold-blooded monster! You wouldn’t even give blood to save me, and now you refuse to raise my only daughter? What kind of sister does that make you?” I met her fury with a cool, mocking smile. “Well, well, Veronica. You look awfully spry for someone on their deathbed. Did this incompetent doctor here misdiagnose you?” I cast a pointed glance at Dr. Reed, who instantly averted her eyes. Realizing her act had slipped, Veronica instantly clutched her chest, collapsing onto the bed, gasping dramatically for air, her body trembling. Her acting was surprisingly convincing. Dr. Reed immediately sprang into action, pushing me out and declaring Ms. Veronica needed emergency care. Curious to see what other tricks Veronica had up her sleeve, I simply waited outside the ER. Ten minutes later, Dr. Reed emerged, holding a cooing, babbling infant. “My apologies, Ms. Veronica is gone,” she announced, her voice filled with a practiced solemnity. “This child is her daughter. Her dying wish was for you to raise her. As for the adoption procedures, you can rest assured. Ms. Veronica had made all the necessary arrangements before she passed. The paperwork, she ensured, would be finalized within two days. You simply need to raise the child well. Abandoning the child would be illegal, and if I found out, I’d personally ensure you faced legal consequences!” With that, she tried to thrust the infant into my arms. I immediately stepped back two paces. Are you kidding me? Forcing a child on someone like this is the real illegal act! Last time, blinded by that so-called sisterly bond, I hadn’t questioned a single detail of this ridiculous story. Looking back, it’s absurd. Even legitimate adoptions take weeks, if not months. “You said Veronica is dead, right? Fine. I want to see her body.” I brushed past Dr. Reed and strode into the emergency room. It was completely empty. “What are you doing?!” Dr. Reed’s frantic voice echoed behind me. “You can’t just barge in here!” I pointed to the empty room. “You said she’s dead, didn’t you? Where’s the body? Where did you take her?” Dr. Reed replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “The body was, of course, immediately sent to the funeral home for cremation.” “Sent to the funeral home already? Fine. I’m going to the funeral home right now to pay my respects.” Ignoring Dr. Reed’s frantic protests, I strode purposefully out of the hospital. At the City Funeral Home, I immediately inquired about Veronica’s remains. To my surprise, they did have a record. Moments later, a staff member brought out an urn, supposedly containing Veronica’s ashes. Last time, consumed by grief, I had simply taken her daughter home. I didn’t even attend Veronica’s funeral until a week later, after I finally received a notice. “These are Veronica’s ashes?” I asked. “Yes,” the staff member replied tersely before hurrying away. But something still felt off. Normal cremations don’t happen that fast. Even the quickest turnaround takes at least a full day. Yet here I was, less than three hours after Dr. Reed declared Veronica dead, holding her alleged ashes. It was a blatant insult to my intelligence. Without a second thought, I yanked open the urn and unhesitatingly poured its contents onto the pristine floor.

Greyish-white powder cascaded onto the floor. The staff member beside me shrieked. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Families there to make arrangements for their loved ones scattered. Whispers erupted, accusing glares shot my way. I stared at them, completely devoid of emotion, and then deliberately kicked the pile of ash on the floor. “Look closely. Does this even look like real ashes?” “It does seem a little odd. Where are the bone fragments? The smaller pieces?” a woman murmured. “Now that you mention it, you’re right. Cremation can’t pulverize every single bone into fine dust,” another added. I curled my lips into a cynical smile, then addressed the frantic staff member, my voice cutting through the murmurs. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? The funeral home handed me fake ashes. Do you have any professional integrity at all? There are so many grieving families here. Are their loved ones’ ashes fake too?” The staff member, his face pale with panic, stammered, “Don’t you dare accuse us of such things! We follow all procedures!” I refused to back down. “Really? Veronica was declared dead at the hospital barely two hours ago. How is it humanly possible that her body has already been cremated? When did your facility become this efficient?” The crowd erupted. “Are they insane? I thought we managed our arrangements quickly, but even that took a full day. How on earth was this cremated in two hours?” Under the barrage of questions, the staff member stammered, completely flustered and at a loss for words. He’d clearly never imagined I’d publicly scatter the ‘ashes,’ much less scrutinize the cremation timeline. He managed to mumble a few calming words to the agitated crowd before scurrying back inside. A little while later, he returned, a forced, placating smile plastered across his face. “My apologies, we made a mistake. The ashes we gave you were someone else’s. Your friend’s remains are still in the process of cremation. Please bear with us a little longer.” Several hours later, the same staff member returned with another urn. And then, Dr. Evelyn Reed from the hospital suddenly appeared at the funeral home. “Before she passed, Veronica explicitly instructed me to ensure her child was placed in your care. This was her final wish. Also, here are her life savings—fifty thousand dollars. She truly hoped you would raise her child with love and care.” Her words were delivered with such righteous conviction. Then she pressed the infant and a bank card into my arms. The surrounding onlookers, unaware of the full truth, were clearly moved, and many began to applaud me. I glanced down at the infant in my arms and let out a soft, knowing chuckle. So, Veronica really wants me to raise her child, huh? Then I’ll give her exactly what she asked for.

Eighteen years passed quickly. After earning my first significant sum, I started building my social media presence. I stayed behind the camera, but my adorable adopted daughter, Chloe, was a natural in front of it. She was naturally photogenic, every gesture full of charm and life, immediately captivating audiences. Within a year of launching the account, she had amassed millions of followers. She became a child model, endorsing several national clothing brands even at a tender age. As she grew, she transitioned into professional modeling, excelling in everything from print ad campaigns to high-profile runway shows. Her current fame far surpassed what she’d achieved in my previous life. To celebrate her successful completion of a major brand show, I arranged a small, intimate celebration at a five-star hotel. My colleagues and friends were there, along with many of her industry contacts. Dressed in an elegant champagne-colored gown, I stood amidst the mingling guests, smiling as I watched Chloe, surrounded by admirers. My heart swelled with pride. Just then, the grand doors of the ballroom swung open. Veronica walked in, arm-in-arm with Brandon. Both were dressed in expensive evening wear. Veronica had maintained herself remarkably well over the years; at forty-something, she looked barely thirty. But the calculating glint in her eyes was unmistakable, allowing me to recognize her instantly. Brandon, beside her, still retained his handsome looks, though fine lines now creased the corners of his eyes. His gaze, fixed on me, was filled with undisguised arrogance. “My daughter, I’ve finally found you,” Veronica declared, her voice thick with exaggerated emotion. She advanced towards Chloe, her face radiating feigned tenderness, her hand outstretched. Everyone froze, utterly bewildered by the sudden intrusion. Chloe instantly recoiled, pulling her hand away and stepping back warily, retreating behind me. “My mother is right here. Who are you?” Chloe’s words made Veronica’s face stiffen, but she quickly reverted to her practiced, tearful expression. “My sweet child, I’m your biological mother. I was gravely injured back then, and after being pronounced dead at the hospital, I entrusted you to Cassidy’s care in my final moments. But miraculously, I regained consciousness on the way to the funeral home, snatching myself back from the brink of death. I tried to find you afterward, but you were already gone. I’ve searched for you for eighteen long years, always loving you. I am your real mother!” Veronica shed tears, putting on a show of joyful reunion. I watched her performance, a faint smile playing on my lips. She genuinely believed everything was playing out just as it had in my previous life, that this renowned young model I’d raised was her daughter. But I’d been reborn. How could I possibly fall for her tricks again? I met her gaze, my smile unwavering. “But Chloe isn’t your daughter.”

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My mom always said that to give my sister and me fair love, we’d use a lottery system. Whoever drew the long stick, my sister or I, would get what they wanted: favorite food, new clothes, even a hug and a kiss from our parents. But I always drew the short stick. I told Mom it wasn’t fair, but she sharply rebuked me. “If you can’t draw the long stick, you only have your bad luck to blame!” Then came my birthday. Chloe wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom made us decide with the draw-sticks again. I secretly glued the two sticks together. But Mom slapped me hard, yelling that I was cheating and disobedient, then took Chloe to the amusement park. I fell to the floor, and those two sticks savagely pierced my neck. Warm liquid seeped from my neck, soaking into my hair. The floor was dirty. Mom would be even angrier. I tried to wipe it, but my body felt like air, floating in mid-air. It turned out I was dead. I knew what death was. When I was seven, Grandma Elsie also lay on the floor, just like this, and died. That day, she had a huge fight with Mom, calling Mom a conceited lunatic. “Love is love, and not loving is not loving. Why hide behind a draw-stick game? If you don’t want Mia, I’ll take her back to my place right now.” “Otherwise, throw away that damn draw-stick box and cherish both children equally!” Mom scoffed in return. “How I love my children has nothing to do with you. Of course, I cherish both of them.” “But there are always favorites, it’s uncontrollable. That’s why I bought this draw-stick box, to truly show no favoritism.” “They get what they want based on their own luck. David and I won’t interfere. If she can’t draw the long stick, it just means she’s unlucky!” Grandma Elsie was so furious she collapsed, unconscious, and never woke up again. Mom’s draw-stick system only grew worse after that. If there were two muffins at home, Mom would make Chloe and me draw. If I drew the short stick, the long stick was automatically Chloe’s. So, both muffins went to Chloe. We even drew sticks at dinner. I drew the short stick, so all the dishes cooked were Chloe’s favorites, even if I was allergic to some of them. Mom would just say, with a helpless sigh, “Rules can’t be broken. There’s nothing I can do. Why did you have to draw the short stick?” Even when I had a fever of 102 degrees and cried, begging her for a hug, Mom insisted I draw a stick. After I got the short one, she naturally hugged Chloe instead. “Mia, your luck really is terrible.” My entire life revolved around drawing sticks. Even in death, I was still thinking about it. Grandma Elsie’s coffin, when she was buried, was large and spacious. Mom bought it, and everyone praised Mom for how well she treated Grandma Elsie. I wanted Mom to be good to me too, because I’d slept in the same bed for five years, unable to stretch my legs. That, too, was the result of me drawing the short stick. I wanted to find Mom, to beg her to draw a stick for me. If I were truly lucky enough to draw the long stick, Mom would surely agree to buy me a big coffin. My soul drifted to the door, and suddenly I heard footsteps outside. My eyes lit up, and I saw Mom push open the door.

“Mom!” I excitedly floated closer. But Mom walked right through me. It hit me then: I couldn’t touch Mom anymore. I followed behind her, timidly stating my request. Mom couldn’t hear me, and she hadn’t returned out of worry for me anyway. She’d just forgotten her car keys. When Mom’s gaze fell on the bedroom door, I felt like a child who had done something wrong, anxiously explaining. “I didn’t mean to die, and I’ve made the house messy. I’m sorry, Mom, I’ll…” I said, crestfallen, “I can’t help clean up. I… I’m already dead…” Mom stopped at the bedroom door, her voice calm. “You’ve grown up so much you don’t even come out to greet me. Your temper’s gotten huge. You’re giving me attitude now.” “But let me tell you, sulking won’t help. You can only blame your own bad luck for drawing the short stick.” Seeing that I still didn’t open the door, Mom angrily twisted the doorknob. Just then, Chloe ran in. “Mom, hurry up! The amusement park is about to open.” Mom gave up on entering the bedroom, grabbing her car keys with a huff and walking out. “We’re going to play until night. We won’t be back for dinner. Eat the drumstick on the table for your supper. Don’t say I’m unfair.” “Chloe hasn’t even had any, and this time I didn’t even make you draw sticks. I’m practically playing favorites with you.” The drumstick on the table was Chloe’s leftover from yesterday. Mom had bought only this one drumstick when she came back from the supermarket, and made Chloe and me draw. I drew the short one again. I hadn’t eaten meat in a long time, and I was so hungry I just touched it. Mom had slapped my hand red and yelled at me in disgust. “You’ve forgotten all the rules, haven’t you? You drew the short stick, so the drumstick is Chloe’s. It has nothing to do with you. Touch it again and I’ll chop off your claws.” “I’ve never seen anyone as greedy as you. It’s like I’m starving you and never giving you food.” Today, she actually offered it to me. Mom was so good. I was so happy, but I forgot I was just a ghost now; I couldn’t even touch the drumstick. And a stray cat, Snowy, jumped in through the window and snatched the drumstick. It hissed at me, and I couldn’t stop it. I could only huddle sadly in the corner. I don’t know how much time passed, but Dad, Mom, and Chloe returned, beaming with happiness. “Mom, the pandas were so big and fluffy! I loved them so much! Mom, can you buy me one?” Mom dotingly kissed Chloe’s forehead, playfully chiding her, “Your mom isn’t that powerful.” Chloe hummed and took a step back. “Don’t kiss me! We haven’t drawn sticks yet. If Mia sees, she’ll start crying again about it being unfair.” “But maybe she’s already hiding in her bedroom, crying. It is her birthday today, after all.” Mom glanced at the table. The drumstick was gone. She let out a dry, indifferent chuckle, her tone utterly certain. “If she could draw the long stick, I’d kiss her too. Too bad she’s unlucky and didn’t draw it.” “Besides, she already ate the drumstick from the table. She’s just intentionally not coming out. Your sister is petty; don’t mind her.” No one could see me, and no one knew I had died in the bedroom. Mom started preparing supper. She called out to my bedroom in a strange tone, raising her voice. “Is someone *sure* they don’t want to come out and draw sticks? Then I’m making Chloe’s favorite dishes. Don’t come crying later about it being unfair.” Dad, watching TV, impatiently grumbled, “Why bother with her? If she doesn’t want to draw, just make Chloe’s favorite. Let her throw a fit!” “We raised her all these years, and she’s not even grateful. Instead, she holds a grudge against us. So ungrateful!” I stood nearby, thinking. What if I *had* drawn? For ten years, the dinner table had always been filled with Chloe’s favorite foods. I’d always just eaten plain, dry rice. But Mom and Dad hadn’t starved me. Had they?

Mom still ended up making Chloe’s favorite dishes. The three of them sat together, chatting and laughing, looking so happy and harmonious. Feeling a bit lonely, I floated closer to Mom. Suddenly, I noticed a cake box on the chair next to them. I proudly showed off to Snowy, who was crouched by the window. “See that? Dad and Mom bought me a cake! They didn’t forget it’s my birthday today!” Snowy eyed me, as if mocking me. Mom gave the cake to Chloe, saying she bought it especially for Chloe because she wanted it. As if afraid I’d hear, she even lowered her voice. “Take it to your bedroom and eat it secretly. Otherwise, your sister will find out and start crying to me again.” I’d only cried that one time, but Mom had mentioned it repeatedly for ten years. Actually, I wasn’t too sad, because I knew that even if I drew sticks, I’d only get the short one. I was unlucky. The cake would still go to Chloe. “I’ve never had cake before. Have you?” I asked Snowy. It suddenly jumped in, knocked the cake out of Chloe’s hands with a paw, and then darted back out. Chloe’s hand was scratched. She burst into tears. Mom, however, angrily grabbed a vase and smashed it violently against my bedroom door. “Mia, are you deliberately trying to hurt Chloe? Why didn’t you close the window?” Seeing that I still didn’t open the door, Mom was utterly enraged, but Dad held her back. “Enough! Forget about her for now. Let’s take Chloe to the hospital first. We’ll settle scores with her when we get back!” By the time they returned, it was already past midnight. Dad and Mom knocked on my door together. When there was no movement inside, they finally lost all patience, grabbing a hammer to break the door down. It was only when a neighbor complained that they stopped, shouting a stream of insults from outside. Mom bought Chloe a new princess dress. She twirled around, showing it off. “I cried when I got my shot, and Mom felt bad for me, so she took me to buy new clothes and delicious steak.” “You’ve never had it, have you? It’s your fault for being so unlucky. If you drew the long stick, Mom would take you to eat steak and buy new clothes too.” My blood seeped out from under the door. Chloe stepped in it and slipped. She shrieked, drawing Mom and Dad over. “What happened? Where’s all this blood coming from?” Dad looked at the crack under the door, shocked and panicked. “It looks like it’s coming from Mia’s room. Mia…” His suspicion was cut short by Chloe’s wailing. “I just wanted to show Mia my new dress, and she told me to get lost! That’s *my* blood! My head hurts so much!” Mom exploded. She furiously kicked the bedroom door. “Mia, get out here! You made Chloe bleed so much, and you still dare to hide inside!” This time, Mom was truly determined to open the door. Each kick was harder than the last. My corpse was repeatedly slammed by the door, becoming unrecognizable. I wondered if they would be scared when they saw me like this. The door didn’t break open, so Mom had to go bandage Chloe first, calling me a “wretched child” as she left. Actually, this wasn’t the first time Chloe had falsely accused me. Ever since we were little, whenever she made a mistake, she’d shriek and cry, then blame me. Mom was “fair.” She’d always say no matter who was right or wrong, we’d draw sticks first, and whoever drew the short stick would be punished. And every time, I was the one who got hit. If I were still alive, would I be locked in the attic without food or water this time, or forced to stand outside in the rain all night? I floated downstairs and suddenly noticed something. Tears welled in my eyes. And I finally understood why, for ten years, I had never drawn the long stick.

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I’d just won five million dollars. I raced to the hospital, desperate to save my son’s life. My wife suddenly grabbed my arm. “Give me the password, I’ll handle the payment. Your colleague said there’s an urgent matter at the office, you need to go deal with it, fast.” In my past life, I believed her. She ended up stealing all the money, then colluded with a male colleague to frame me for embezzling company funds. My son died from his illness, and I took my own life in prison. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to this exact moment—the instant she asked for my bank card. This time, I still smiled and gave her the password. But she didn’t know, I had already set a trap. 1 “Honey, leave everything at the hospital to me. You should hurry to the office, don’t hold up work.” My wife, Vanessa, tightly clutched the bank card with five million dollars. Her words were sweet and understanding, but her eyes gleamed with the triumphant glint of a successful conspiracy. In my past life, I had trusted her implicitly. I never imagined she would take our son’s life-saving money and collude with my colleague, Kevin, to frame me for embezzling company funds! I was sentenced to ten years in prison, and my son eventually died in the hospital because there was no money for his surgery! Even my parents, unable to bear the weight of these tragedies, suffered heart attacks and died by the roadside, abandoned! Freshly reborn, a furious hatred churned inside me, making me want to kill the wicked woman standing before me with my bare hands! But doing that would only lead me back to prison, reliving the same tragedy. It wasn’t worth it. I would find another way to make Vanessa and Kevin, that despicable pair, pay their dues! I gripped her wrist hard, my voice laced with a hidden meaning. “Then I’ll be counting on you here at the hospital. This is our son’s life savings, so make sure you don’t transfer it to the wrong account.” After all, in my past life, Vanessa hadn’t transferred the money to the hospital’s account, but to a secret account Kevin had set up. Vanessa’s eyes flickered with a strange unease, her voice laced with guilt. “Don’t worry, I won’t be that careless.” I smiled. “Good.” With that, I turned to leave, the smile instantly vanishing from my face. Once I was out of the hospital, I pulled out my phone, a cold smirk playing on my lips, and dialed 91

“Officer, I need to report a crime!” “Just two minutes ago, I was defrauded. Five million dollars was transferred from my card. Please help me track the money immediately!” “What?! Five million dollars?!” The officer on the other end of the line immediately grew serious upon hearing such a large sum and opened a case. “The transfer happened very recently. Luckily, you reported it quickly. We’ll do our best to help you get the money back. Please tell us any clues you get immediately!” My voice sounded urgent. “Yes, yes, yes. That money was for my son’s life-saving surgery. Please, help me!” After hanging up, a slow smile spread across my face. I wasn’t worried about the money being untraceable; I knew it would soon be transferred *through a specific route* and eventually back into my account. This was the exact scheme Vanessa and Kevin used to frame me in my previous life. But this time, I would show them what true consequences felt like! My phone buzzed urgently. Kevin’s name flashed on the screen. 2 I deliberately let it ring. I knew Kevin was calling to rush me back to the company, eager for me to walk right into his trap. I let out a cold laugh, hailed a taxi, and instead of heading to the office, I told the driver to take me to the Lottery Commission office. “Hello, I’m the winner of today’s five-million-dollar jackpot. I need to get my lottery winnings officially notarized.” In my past life, I was too anxious to pay for my son’s surgery after winning, so I didn’t get it notarized. Later, after I was framed, when I tried to get it notarized, Vanessa and Kevin had already bribed the Lottery Commission staff. This time, I would not give Vanessa and Kevin even the slightest chance. My phone rang again. It was Kevin. With a swipe, I answered. “Arthur, why aren’t you back at the office yet? Don’t you know there’s a huge problem?! Listen… it involves you. Mr. Davies wants you back, now!” Kevin’s voice on the phone was frantic. I calmly replied, “Alright, I’ll be there in a moment.” I arrived at the office, unhurried and composed. Kevin, feigning disappointment, frowned at me. “Arthur, how could you do such a thing? You’ve been incredibly foolish!” I calmly said, “Just say what you need to say.” Kevin tried to suppress the triumph in his eyes, deliberately raising his voice. “Arthur, drop the act. The company knows you secretly embezzled five million dollars!” At his words, colleagues who had been quietly working in the office all looked up at me, their faces filled with shock. “Oh my God, Arthur always seemed so honest and hardworking! Who knew he had the guts to do something like this?!” “The company found irregularities in the funds last week, but I never imagined it was Arthur!” “He’s a great actor! All that innocent charm, and he was secretly a thief!” “Why would he need that much money? Is he cheating on his wife and kid, spending it on a mistress?” “Hard to say. But I heard his son is sick and needs surgery, so maybe he took a risk for his son!” “Surgery doesn’t cost *millions*! He must’ve done it for his own desires!” My colleagues’ contemptuous stares pierced me, and their hushed whispers filled the air. Kevin subtly smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. My expression didn’t change a bit. I just calmly stated, “I didn’t embezzle any funds. I didn’t do it.” “Arthur, the evidence is overwhelming, and you still dare to lie?! I trusted you, I was even going to promote you next week! Is this how you repay the company?!” Mr. Davies, his face flushed with rage, slammed a stack of documents onto my desk. I looked through the pages. They detailed abnormal transaction records in the company’s financial system. My name and employee ID were listed as the operator. The most recent entry, from just ten minutes ago, showed five million dollars transferred from the company’s financial system directly into a bank account in my name. 3 Mr. Davies fumed, “Arthur, what do you have to say for yourself now?!” My colleagues’ eyes were even more contemptuous. “The evidence is right there! How can he still try to deny it?! Call the police and have him arrested!” The room erupted in a furious murmur. Everyone here worked hard, and the thought of one of us stealing from the company fueled their indignation. Kevin watched, a triumphant smirk twisting his lips. I looked at him meaningfully, but spoke to Mr. Davies. “Mr. Davies, don’t you think this is all a little too… convenient?” “I just walked through the office doors ten minutes ago, and suddenly five million dollars appears in my account? I’m guessing Kevin provided you with these ‘proofs,’ didn’t he?” Kevin’s face flickered with a strange unease. “What if I did? Even if we’re colleagues, I can’t tolerate your illegal actions!” I scoffed. “I’m not the only one with access to the financial system. And my login password? Didn’t you happen to see it last week?” Mr. Davies also seemed to find the situation too coincidental. The investigation into the company’s missing funds started last week, and until today, my name hadn’t even come up. Mr. Davies frowned, looking at Kevin. A flicker of panic crossed Kevin’s face, but he quickly composed himself. “Don’t listen to Arthur’s lies! The reason I suspected him, besides the system’s operation records, is that I have a witness!” “Yes, I can confirm it!” A collective gasp rippled through the office as everyone stared, dumbfounded, at Vanessa, who had suddenly appeared. “Isn’t that Arthur’s wife? Oh my god!” “If even his own wife is testifying against him, it has to be true!” Kevin’s smirk widened. “Arthur, your own wife is reporting you! How do you explain that?” I wasn’t surprised by Vanessa’s appearance. After all, in my past life, Vanessa was the one who delivered the final, crushing blow when the entire company already suspected me. Vanessa was a master of manipulation; her eyes welled up in an instant. “Arthur, I didn’t want to expose you, but my conscience wouldn’t let me rest!” I just gave a cold, humorless laugh. “Vanessa, if you had an ounce of conscience, you’d be at the hospital with our son right now, not here with Kevin, trying to destroy me!” A flicker of guilt crossed Vanessa’s eyes, but she quickly suppressed it, her voice rising in a shout. “I’m doing this for our son! I can’t let him have a criminal for a father!” Vanessa spoke with righteous indignation. “Arthur, it’s not too late to confess. It’s just prison, a consequence for breaking the law!” Kevin chimed in, “Vanessa’s right, Arthur. Just turn yourself in. You might even get a reduced sentence.” “Exactly, the truth is out. Being stubborn won’t help. Just turn yourself in.” “If you take what isn’t yours, you pay the price. Arthur, just surrender!” In an instant, everyone believed I had embezzled company funds, and a chorus of voices urged me to confess.

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My dog, Dodo, suddenly came down with gastroenteritis. The vet said it was because he’d eaten chocolate. But neither Brandon nor I like chocolate. We’ve never had any in the house. The vet said, “A friend who visited your place might have fed Dodo chocolate.” I just smiled, said nothing more, and drove straight to Brandon’s company. In the break room, his new secretary, Brittany Clark, was showing off to a colleague, holding a cup of coffee. “I was at Brandon’s place yesterday, it’s so luxurious! He has a husky, and it just adores me. I fed that husky some chocolate, and it even licked my face!” Well, it seems she’s the “friend” my husband brought home. Stealing my cheap husband is one thing, but poisoning my dog? You’ll regret this! Sure enough, the moment she saw me, her eyes darted around in panic, trying to avoid me. Spotting her reaction, I deliberately called out, “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Just then, a colleague passed by with a stack of files and helpfully introduced us, “Mrs. Davis, this is Mr. Davis’s new secretary, Brittany Clark.” Then he turned to Brittany and said, “This is our CEO’s wife, Scarlett Sterling.” Brittany lowered her head, her voice trembling, “Mrs. Davis, hello.” I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, a hint of mockery flashing in my eyes. She dared to go to my home and feed my dog, but now she can barely speak. With that little courage, she thinks she can be a mistress? My gaze slowly fell on the cup in her hand—a cup Brandon had bought. I asked nonchalantly, “Are you making coffee for Brandon?” She bit her lower lip and said, “Yes, Brandon said he loves coffee I brew myself… he doesn’t like anyone else’s.” But I distinctly remembered Brandon saying he dislikes coffee and only drinks tea. I let out a cold laugh, my eyes landing on the exquisitely designed diamond ring on her ring finger. “Your ring looks very special. Is it custom-made?” I had seen the design draft for that ring before. Brandon had always wanted to be a jewelry designer since he was little, but his father thought it sounded like a woman’s job and secretly changed his university major. In our third year together, he held my hand and promised he would personally design a unique ring for me, engraving our names and story into it. But the design was barely finished, before he even had a chance to make it, his father suddenly passed away from a brain hemorrhage. After that, he never mentioned jewelry design again. That ring became one of my regrets. I never imagined he would so easily give the ring he designed for me to a secretary. Brittany froze at my question, too scared to speak. She frequently glanced at Brandon’s tightly closed office door, clearly hoping he would come out to rescue her. Useless! I scoffed softly, not bothering to waste another glance on her, and turned, walking directly towards the company exit. As I stepped out of the company, I pulled out my phone and called my dad. He’s the richest man in New York, and Brandon’s company’s largest shareholder. “Dad, pull the investment from Brandon’s company. I’m getting a divorce.” There was silence on the other end for barely two seconds before my father’s calm voice came through, “What happened? Did he hurt you?” “Yes, he cheated on me.” My voice was devoid of emotion, as if I were talking about something trivial that had nothing to do with me. “Also, find me the best divorce lawyer. I want him to leave with nothing.”

It wasn’t long before evidence of Brandon’s infidelity flooded my inbox. I sat in my car, my fingertips cold as I clicked open the attachments. Video after video, photo after photo, meticulously arranged in chronological order, pierced my already scarred heart like ice-cold knives. December 31st, New Year’s Eve. A month earlier, I had rented out a riverside observation deck and prepared his favorite sparklers, planning a surprise. But that evening, he called, his voice weary, saying he had an urgent project at work and told me not to wait up. In the video, he was holding Brittany Clark’s hand, standing in the city’s most upscale revolving restaurant. Outside, fireworks exploded brilliantly across the sky, and he was leaning down, cutting her steak. Scrolling down, February 11th. That morning, I woke up with symptoms of a miscarriage. My abdomen was gripped by waves of pain, my limbs trembling with fear. I called him over a dozen times, but he never answered. I had to hold onto the wall to go downstairs and catch a cab to the hospital alone, terrified of losing the precious baby I had fought so hard for. But in the photos, he was with Brittany at a claw machine in the mall, patiently helping her win a pink bunny plushie. Brittany nestled in his arms, smiling sweetly and playfully. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe. I fought back tears and continued scrolling, May 11th. It was my birthday that day. He came home and handed me a scarf. I was so thrilled that I posted a series of photos on Ins that night. But now I knew: that scarf was a freebie Brittany got when she bought a limited-edition bag at a luxury store. She thought it was ugly and casually told Brandon to get rid of it, so he just passed it off as my birthday gift. Yet, on Brittany’s birthday, he rented out an entire private estate, hosting a lavish dinner party and inviting all their friends. In the photos, those very people who used to flatter me, taking advantage of my resources through Brandon, and calling me affectionately. Now they were crowded around Brittany, raising their glasses, their faces full of fawning admiration. I slid through the screen, page after page, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably. All the details I had overlooked in the past now flashed clearly before my eyes. His frequent business trips during that period, always returning with a strange perfume scent clinging to him. The suddenly encrypted photo album on his phone, the pearl hair clip in his study drawer that wasn’t mine… It turned out all those coincidences were carefully orchestrated lies. Until I saw photos of Brandon accompanying Brittany to her prenatal check-ups at the hospital. *Thump*. The last thread in my mind snapped completely. He was at the hospital that day, too. I clearly remembered that day: I was lying in bed, bleeding uncontrollably, crying as I called him, but his phone remained unanswered. It wasn’t until much later that I was rushed to the hospital by an ambulance. But it was too late; the baby couldn’t be saved. Only then did he call with apologies and rush to the hospital. “Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’ll stay with you.” In the days that followed, he meticulously cared for me through my postpartum recovery. But who would have thought that such a seemingly perfect husband was secretly building a family with another woman outside our marriage? Hatred surged wildly in my chest, almost incinerating all my reason. I leaned over the steering wheel, my shoulders shaking violently, tears falling like broken strings of pearls onto the cold phone screen. I even wanted to start the car immediately, rush back to the company, expose their ugly faces in front of everyone, and fight Brandon to the death. Just then, my phone flashed with a SnapChat update — it was Brittany, whom I’d added on my burner account. She had just posted a new story, with a chat screenshot and the caption: 【Thanks, Mom, for the special party you prepared for me! ~】 I tremblingly clicked on the screenshot. The avatar in the chat box was all too familiar: it was Brandon’s mother. In the chat history, she affectionately called Brittany “sweetheart” and said she had booked a banquet at the city’s most expensive hotel. Tomorrow, she wanted Brittany to meet her and the family, telling her to dress up nicely. I suddenly laughed, tears streaming down my face. So, it wasn’t just Brandon who betrayed me; his entire family had tacitly approved of all this long ago. Well, if it’s a party, how could I, his legally wedded wife, possibly be absent?

The next day, I drove directly to the hotel they had booked. Even though Brandon had already arranged my schedule for that day a full two weeks in advance: A hot springs resort in the suburbs. He had told me with a tender look, “You just lost the baby, and your body hasn’t fully recovered. I booked a room for you at the new hot springs resort in the city’s suburbs. You can bring your best friend, get some good rest, and relax.” Recalling the hypocritical concern on his face when he said those words, I gave a cold smirk. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Brandon: “Have you reached the resort? I told the hotel to save some soup for you, remember to drink it while it’s hot.” I stared at the text on the screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, but in the end, I didn’t reply. The hotel owner was a friend of my mom’s. With his help, I easily gained access to the surveillance room. Almost all of Brandon’s relatives and friends were there. His mother was anxiously bustling about, Her attentive and thorough demeanor perfectly embodied an impeccable good woman. Once upon a time, she had also treated me with such dedication, expressing her high regard for me. When Brandon and I first got engaged, she remembered my mother’s birthday and prepared thoughtful gifts in advance. When my dad had a gout attack, she arranged for someone to bring back special medicine from abroad. Even when I casually mentioned I liked homemade cakes, she would personally bake a batch and bring them to me. I truly believed I was marrying into a warm and reliable family. But now, standing beside Brandon was a beaming Brittany Clark. She wore a light pink gown, a slight bump on her stomach, her face full of demureness and triumph. Behind them, relatives and friends clustered, each face radiating joyous blessings. Only I, sitting alone in the surveillance room, felt like an outsider completely excluded. It was only now that I realized I had long become the superfluous outsider in this marriage. The clock struck ten, and Brandon, holding Brittany’s hand, slowly walked onto the center stage. He took the microphone and passionately recounted their love story: “Brittany and I met during my most exhausting phase. It was her who offered me a warm drink when I worked late into the night, her who stayed by my side all night when I was sick. She’s like a beacon of light, illuminating my dull life.” Thunderous applause immediately erupted from the audience. Relatives and friends nodded in approval, as if celebrating a great love story. I sat alone in the surveillance room, watching the deeply affectionate man on the screen, almost amused by this absurd scene. If he weren’t my husband, if his “exhaustion” wasn’t just an excuse to hide at the company while I was on bed rest trying to save our baby, perhaps I would truly have been touched. Then, Brittany took the microphone, her eyes reddening. “Brandon is the best man in the world. Ever since I got pregnant, he’s been by my side constantly, making sure I don’t suffer any grievance. Meeting him is my good fortune.” Watching their hypocritical faces, I felt my stomach churn. The period when she first got pregnant was precisely when my pregnancy was most unstable. The doctor repeatedly advised me to stay on bed rest, but Brandon always came home late, or even stayed out all night, citing company business. I foolishly thought he was genuinely stressed and even forced myself to make soup for him. Now I knew all his time and tenderness were given to another woman. At this point, Brandon gripped Brittany’s hand, pulled out a velvet box from his pocket, and knelt on one knee, slowly opening it. Inside lay a massive diamond ring, sparkling blindingly under the lights. He looked up at Brittany, his eyes overflowing with adoration. “Brittany, I know you don’t care about these things, but I love you, and I only want to give you the best. Today’s party is just the appetizer. Once our baby is born, I promise I’ll hold the grandest wedding for you and bring you home in style!” The hall instantly erupted in cheers, gasps, and whistles. I distinctly heard Brandon’s uncle, who once tearfully begged me to help his son find a job, raising his glass and shouting, “Brandon is truly responsible! Brittany, this child is so lucky!” The relative who once made me use my family’s connections to get her daughter into a good school, clapped her hands and wiped away excited tears: “This is wonderful! Brittany looks like such a good woman!” And Brandon’s useless brother, Owen, excitedly stood up to toast: “Wishing you both happiness forever!” Every single one of them had genuinely received help from me, benefited from my kindness, and taken advantage of me. Yet, at this moment, no one remembered my existence, no one uttered my name. As if I had never even appeared. Just then, Brandon’s sister, Chloe, suddenly spoke up, cutting through the chorus of flattery. “She’s your wife? Then what about Scarlett?” Brittany’s face instantly paled, and she timidly looked at Brandon. Brandon himself clearly panicked for a moment but quickly recovered. He tenderly held her closer, while glaring coldly at Chloe, his voice suddenly stern, “Whoever I recognize as my wife, that’s who my wife is. As for those irrelevant people, there’s no need to mention them.” I sat in the surveillance room, listening to his words, my nails digging deep into my palms. All these years, I repeatedly covered his company’s deficits with my money, used my family’s connections to pave his way. I even willingly gave up my career, wanting only to stay home and wholeheartedly care for him. I poured out all my emotions and effort, only to become an “irrelevant person” in his eyes. My nails dug deeply into my palms, the sharp pain keeping me from completely losing control. Burning rage surged through me again and again, but I forcefully pressed it down. I couldn’t just storm in and make a scene. I would make them pay the most painful price for their betrayal and hypocrisy. Mrs. Davis quickly intervened with a forced smile, “On such a happy day, let’s not talk about such useless things.” “Actually, there’s more happy news to announce at today’s banquet: Brittany is pregnant!” The relatives once again raised their glasses in congratulation: “Congratulations! Brittany looks like such a good girl, unlike some people who haven’t had a baby after so many years of marriage, wasting my son’s precious youth!” “If you ask me, what good is money if you can’t have children? The key is being able to bear children!” Brittany, seeing all the relatives siding with her, immediately regained her composure. She smiled and nodded in response, then looked lovingly at Brandon and declared, “Thank you all for your blessings. I’m so happy to join this family, and I’m willing to bear Brandon’s child, our child. From now on, our family of three will be happy together forever.” Brandon also held her tightly, promising everyone, “I will give Brittany and our child the best life, letting everyone witness our happiness!” Just then, the large screen in the banquet hall suddenly went dark, and the bright lights dimmed in an instant. The guests murmured, and Brandon and Brittany looked on in confusion. I smoothed down my dress, and amidst the clamor and chaos, I walked step by step towards the center of the stage. A spotlight, I didn’t know when, landed on me. All eyes in the hall fixated on me. There was surprise, confusion, and the undisguised panic on Brandon and Brittany’s faces. I slowly curved my lips at the room full of familiar yet strange faces: “So lively a party, and no one invited me?”

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The day I got into a car accident, my husband was busy rushing to comfort his assistant, Scarlett, who had bad cramps. I screamed at him, my voice raw. “Leo! Get the doctors in here now! My family will kill you all if you don’t!” He scoffed, utterly dismissive. “What family? The ‘poor orphan’ story was a lie I let you live. I picked you up. I married you. And now you dare drag me away from Scarlett over a fender bender? Do you have any idea what’s on the line? One wrong signature from her, and we lose fifty million?” He had no idea. I did have a family. And every single one of them was a psychopathic killer. That’s why I’d kept them away from him for five years. Watching him leave, despair swallowed me whole. With the last of my strength, I sent one text to my family. Leo didn’t know. That cry of mine? That was his final chance to survive. Now, he was already a dead man. For five years, he dismissed every word I ever spoke about my family. My veiled warnings, the subtle hints about my family’s darker side-to him, they were nothing but irrational games. The monitor’s beeps grew frantic, a desperate rhythm of my fading life. n the doorway stood David, Leo’s most loyal shadow. He had been mine for five years. Now, he simply watched, paralyzed, as the dark red seeped from beneath me. I knew, with injuries like these, I wouldn’t last until my family arrived. “David…” I forced his name out, each syllable a battle against the pain. “Please, get me a doctor. Any doctor.” He didn’t move. His voice was gravel. “Mr. Leo’s orders were explicit. The medical team is for Ms. Scarlett.” “Mr. Leo said your injuries weren’t fatal.” Not fatal. I looked down at the shattered glass shards embedded in my abdomen, feeling my life drain away, warm and insistent, with every drop. Right. His heart was occupied by someone else now. Why would he care about my injuries? My phone was still in my hand, the screen lit up with our family group chat. Julian’s last message glowed on the screen: “Riley, wheels up in five. ETA two hours.” Below it was a photo. Mom, at the airport duty-free, wasn’t holding perfume. She was testing the balance of a gleaming set of chef’s knives. The caption read: “Picked up a little something for Riley. She’s always saying her paring knife is dull.” My fingers trembled as I typed. “Hurry. I’m dying.” Just as the message delivered, Mr. Harrison’s phone rang. He answered it even as he kept pleading with me. “Ma’am, please, just apologize to Ms. Scarlett as Mr. Leo asks. He’s…he’s not in his right mind about her. You have to accept this.” I gave a slight shake of my head and motioned for him to take the call. I don’t know what he heard. But the old man’s one remaining eye, his right, snapped wide with pure terror. His head jerked up, and he stared at me. “You…you’re one of them. A Sullivan.”

The name Sullivan. It instantly dragged me back into memories of the past. After school, kids ran home. I stayed. Mom always smiled faintly when she picked me up, and the first thing she did when we got home was tell me to put on a mask. Our dining table hosted a rotating cast of strangers. The only thing they had in common? They were all out of breath. Permanently. “Riley, I’ll be carving this one up soon. Why don’t you go study? It might get messy. And the smell…it’s strong.” She’d explain the man had driven his wife and child into the sea. So she was delivering justice. I never saw Dad kill anyone, but in his studio, I saw all kinds of human anatomy. For fifteen years, it hadn’t changed: the doorknob was still adorned with a David’s left eye. That’s why our David only had one eye. If he heard someone was being bullied-no matter how small the slight-the bully would be found the next day. No witnesses, no struggle, just… gone. “Riley, I don’t want you to live in a world with that kind of trash.” Slowly, without meaning to, I began to carry that same cold, predatory stillness. No one ever wanted to be my friend. Except for Leo. When the whole class ostracized me, he was the first to step forward, help me carry my books, and say with a smile, “This is what I call unique charm.” When a dissection diagram accidentally fell out of my bag, he calmly picked it up for me. “Your brother’s comics are pretty hardcore, huh? Super detailed.” Back then, I thought he was the only one who saw the real me behind the Sullivan name. He asked once, curious. “What does your family do abroad?” lutched my shirt hem and gave the half true answer. “Import export business.” He never doubted it. “That must be tough.” “Don’t worry, you won’t have to shoulder it alone anymore. You’ll have me.” That day, beneath the sunset, he knelt on one knee and proposed, solemnly promising to protect me for life. I believed him. So, I defied my family’s warnings and eloped with him to this city. Mom had warned me, “Riley, never trust any man.” Dad had added, “You don’t have to inherit the family business, but don’t you dare shame the Sullivans.” And Julian, with that chilling smile, “Riley, if he doesn’t listen, I’ll make him listen.” But I just shrugged off their warnings. I thought Leo was different. Until Scarlett appeared, and his heart… it just shifted, so easily. He wouldn’t even investigate this car crash, all because Scarlett was the prime suspect! I nodded at David’s stunned expression. “If you don’t want to go completely blind, go get a doctor now!” Finally, just before I truly flatlined, a doctor pulled me back from the brink of death.

I lay in the ER, the heart monitor’s line finally stabilizing into a steady wave. The doctor had just hooked me up to an IV when the ER door flew open with a violent kick. Scarlett burst in, still in a hospital gown, her bandages haphazardly wrapped around her hand. Her voice was soft, yet every doctor instantly froze. “Everyone out.” “Scarlett, the patient just regained consciousness, she needs an immediate blood transfusion…” “I said, out.” She tilted her head, and two bodyguards immediately manhandled the doctors out. She walked to my bedside, staring at my face, and suddenly smiled. “Riley Sullivan, do you know how long I’ve waited for this day?” I spoke weakly. “Get lost.” “Get lost?” She raised her hand and slapped me across the face. My freshly stitched wound nearly ripped open, blood oozing from the corner of my mouth. “Did you really think Leo would believe your insane stories?” She threw her head back, laughing hysterically. “He just thinks you’re a lunatic!” “You orchestrated the car accident.” I stared at her, not a question, but a statement. She leaned close to my ear, whispering. “I did.” “I had someone cut your brake lines. The timing was perfect.” “I was hoping you’d die on the spot, but you’re surprisingly resilient.” My fingers twitched, wanting to grab her hair, but I couldn’t find the strength. “He’ll kill you… if he finds out.” “Who? Leo?” She swatted my hand away. “He’s busy getting my birthday present. Besides, dead people don’t talk.” David, hovering nearby, stammered, but finally managed to speak. “Ms. Scarlett, you can’t kill her!” Scarlett let out a chilling chuckle. “Who asked for your opinion?” I waved my hand, telling David to stand down. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through me. “Ah!” “Does it hurt?” Scarlett’s fingertip pressed into the wound on my side. “It’ll be over soon.” David lunged forward but was held back firmly by the bodyguards. Scarlett slowly, meticulously, untied my hospital gown, her eyes scanning me like a butcher appraising a slab of meat. “I actually secretly got a tissue match done.” “Three months ago, after your annual physical, Leo had your medical records sent straight to me.” “Your kidney, it’s a match for mine.” My pupils constricted. So that was it. This car crash, this whole grotesque farce… it had all been for this day. “You’re insane.” My breath was barely a whisper. “Illegal organ harvesting? You think you can get away with this?” “Illegal?” “Leo will arrange all the paperwork. They’ll say you died from your crash injuries, and that you voluntarily donated your organs.” “As for your family?” She leaned in closer to my ear. “They won’t even find a body to bury.” Several bodyguards pushed me into the operating room. Scarlett, wearing surgical gloves, stood by the doctor, staring at me with cold indifference. She wasn’t a nurse, just a monster in scrubs. But she was right. Leo would take care of everything for her. I felt the cold scalpel slice through my skin, heard her humming a tune, as if savoring a delicious feast. David’s mouth was taped shut, only muffled whimpers escaping. My wrists, strapped to the operating table, were chafed raw, but it was nothing compared to the gut-wrenching agony tearing through my abdomen. My phone, on a nearby table, vibrated frantically. My family’s group chat messages flashed one after another. “Riley, we’re in the city now.” “Don’t worry, Riley. Mom’s debating whether to go for one liter of blood, or two.” But they wouldn’t make it in time. I felt something forcibly ripped from inside me, and the world began to spin. The doctor placed the bloody organ into a cooler, and Scarlett patted my face. “Thank you for the gift.” She turned to leave, and the operating room door was kicked open again. Leo stood in the doorway, his face ashen.

Leo stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on my blood-soaked abdomen. “Riley, who did this to you?!” “Who would dare!” I let out a shaky breath of relief and pointed a trembling hand at Scarlett. “Leo,” Scarlett’s eyes welled up instantly, her voice a faint whisper, as if she were barely clinging to life. “You’re finally here! I was so scared… Riley, she’s still trying to trick you!” She stumbled into his arms, her ‘fragile’ body collapsing perfectly against his chest. “She intentionally caused the crash to kill me! And just now, on the operating table, she threatened to make sure I disappeared without a trace.” “I just wanted to check on her injuries, but Riley went absolutely insane and started tearing at my hand! Look!” She raised her bandaged hand, tiny specks of blood seeping through the pristine white gauze. It was nothing but a slight graze from my struggles. But Leo’s expression instantly changed. He withdrew his gaze of concern for me. He wrapped his arms around Scarlett, his eyes overflowing with tenderness. “Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He looked up at me, and his eyes reverted to the same dismissive, disgusted look he’d give a piece of trash. “Riley Sullivan, you venomous witch!” I squeezed out the last bit of my strength, my voice hoarse. “Leo, she admitted it herself! She had the brake lines cut! She wants my kidney…” “Enough!” Leo cut me off, pressing his hand on the edge of my wound. “Riley, how long will you keep lying?” “Scarlett’s kidney pain flared up, she needs a transplant, and you just happened to be a perfect match? Is that a coincidence, Riley?” “You investigated her beforehand, didn’t you? You knew she needed a kidney.” “So you deliberately tampered with your physical exam results, all to blackmail me with this, right?” I was speechless. Utterly dumbfounded. Behind him, Scarlett flashed me a victorious smile. “Leo,” she suddenly whispered, her fingers gently tugging at his sleeve. “The doctor said one kidney might not be enough. My body’s been having a severe rejection reaction.” “If I had two, the success rate would be much higher.” The air instantly froze. Leo didn’t even look at me; he simply turned to the doctor. “Will she die?” Ignoring the pain from my recent surgery, I screamed instinctively. “Leo, are you even human?!” “How could anyone live without two kidneys? What’s wrong with your brain?” Scarlett suddenly pressed herself against Leo. “Leo, she won’t die.” “The procedure’s mortality rate sits at one percent. In exchange for the kidney, I can guarantee you a fifty-million-dollar contract.” Leo was silent for a long time. “Do it.” “Riley, if the surgery is successful, I’ll take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights, just like you always wanted. Would that be enough?” My heart turned to ice. Hope was gone. I stared at the scalpel coming for me. I closed my eyes and screamed. “Mom!” The next second, the operating room door was kicked open. The heavy doorframe shattered like balsa wood, splinters flying weightlessly through the air. Three figures stood framed in the wreckage. My mother Vivienne stood in a sharply tailored black suit, holding an airport gift box of knives with a gentle, elegant smile. My father Arthur, also in black, casually spun a scalpel. The bodyguard at his feet was a bloody, shapeless ruin. My brother Julian wore a white lab coat and gold rimmed glasses, looking every bit the suave and innocent doctor who could never harm a fly. He adjusted his glasses. His cold, predatory gaze swept over me on the operating table before finally settling on Leo’s face. His voice was soft, like an invitation. “Leo. Sorry to drop in.” “Now…how would you like to die?”

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Just before our honeymoon flight, my wife turned. “I forgot my bikini. I’ll buy one. Wait here.” Six hours later, I received a steamy video. It was my wife in a red bikini, making out with a male intern in our ocean-view suite. I called her. “Where exactly did you go shopping?” Her voice was flat. “Work came up. I went back to the office. We’ll honeymoon later.” In the background, I heard the intern’s whistle. “Some arranged husbands really don’t know their place. They think money makes them untouchable?” A cold laugh broke from me. Did money make me untouchable? We were about to find out. I called the airline. “Block Celeste Vance from boarding any flights from Hawaii to New York.” If Celeste didn’t want to see me, then she wouldn’t be coming back. Ever. Ten minutes later, Celeste’s call came in. “Julian, have you lost your mind? The IPO is in three days! Do you have any idea what it will cost if I’m not there? Call them back right now and lift it!” I kept my voice even. “You told me you were at the office. Why would you need a flight?” Before she could answer, Caleb’s voice cut in from the background, tinny and pleading. “Celeste, it’s all my fault. Let me apologize to your husband.” Celeste cut him off, her voice strained. “I brought an intern to meet a client. I forgot to tell you. Stop making a scene.” I couldn’t help but sneer. “How convenient. Then I’ll extend your hotel stay. Indefinitely.” She finally snapped. “What do you want, Julian?” “Him gone, or the company burns. Your choice!” I said, then hung up. Thirty minutes later, Caleb’s termination notice hit my inbox. I called the airline. “Clear Celeste Vance for boarding.” Then, I sent Celeste a photo. It was the termination paperwork for her closest confidantes at the company. “Consider this a reminder of my terms, Celeste. Push me again, and you’ll learn what real consequences look like!” Celeste didn’t reply. I knew she must hate me fiercely right now. But my own rage burned even brighter. She had no idea how much I’d sacrificed for this honeymoon, canceling all my project meetings. I’d genuinely thought this trip would help us rekindle the initial sweetness and joy. After all, she was the one who’d pleaded with my Grandma Eleanor, insisting I marry her, claiming she’d secretly loved me for years. Grandma Eleanor, seeing her apparent sincerity, finally relented and told me to consider it. Otherwise, given her background, she would never have been considered a match for me if she hadn’t been so persistent. In our years of marriage, she kept the house perfectly organized and was always respectful and attentive to my parents. When I came home late from business dinners, no matter the hour, she’d keep the living room light on, and there was always a warm mug of honey water waiting on the table. She even went to every coffee shop in the city to find a specific blend I’d casually mentioned liking. Because of this, I gradually believed her claims of long-term secret admiration were true and slowly began to fall for her. For years, our life together was harmonious; outsiders often said we were a match made in heaven. I never expected she would now shatter that peace for some random guy who meant nothing.

The next day, I made sure to finish work early and drove to the airport to pick Celeste up. I leaned against my car, waiting patiently. I hadn’t received a reply from Celeste on my phone, but I just assumed she hadn’t gotten the message on the flight. Time ticked by. The plane had landed, but Celeste was nowhere in sight. I called, but she hung up after just a few rings. I’d been so certain she’d come home with me, but now doubt crept in, a surge of irritation bubbling up. My housekeeper called, her voice hesitant. “Julian, your wife… she brought someone home.” Sensing something was wrong, I rushed home. As soon as I walked in, I saw it: clothes scattered everywhere, and two people getting intimate on the sofa. The click of the lock startled them. Only then did Celeste see it was me. She frantically pulled down her sleeve, her hair disheveled, and blurted. “This is an accident.” I scoffed. “An accident? Then why haven’t I seen you accidentally streaking down the street?” Celeste’s face flushed with anger, but before she could react, Caleb behind her frantically grabbed for his scattered clothes. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave right away.” His voice was hoarse, still catching his breath. He clearly hadn’t recovered from their recent passion. But as he picked up his clothes, I saw it: the lucky charm around his neck. My heart leaped. When Celeste and I married, she’d complain about the late nights, how her work was wearing her to the bone. Worried, I traveled for days to a remote chapel, all to find a lucky charm for her. She’d hugged me then, beaming, and promised she’d never take it off. Now, I held my fury in a vise. My eyes fixed on him, my voice dropped to ice. “Take it off. Now.” But he just looked at Celeste, his face a picture of feigned innocence. I walked straight over, grabbing his neck, trying to pull off that lucky charm. Celeste shoved me away, glaring. “Julian, are you insane? Are you trying to hurt him?!” Unprepared, I slammed into the corner of the coffee table, a searing pain shooting through my shin. I stared at my wife, disbelief clouding my vision. “Tell me, why is my lucky charm on him?!” Her eyes darted away. She instinctively snapped back, “Why are you being so aggressive? Caleb hasn’t been feeling well, what’s wrong with letting him wear the lucky charm for a bit?” She glanced at me, her tone dismissive. “It’s just a trinket, right? Is it really worth getting so worked up over?” “A trinket?” I laughed, a bitter sound. “I endured a difficult pilgrimage for that! And you just gave it to some outsider?” “He stole it! I’m calling the police right now and reporting him for theft!” Celeste’s voice shot up. She ripped the lucky charm off and threw it hard at my face. “Are you insane? It’s just a damn piece of cloth! Who needs it?!” The rough edge of the charm grazed my cheek, a sharp sting. I touched it, and my fingertips came away with a smear of blood. I looked down at the tiny bead of blood welling up, and all I felt was a bitter laugh. Celeste saw the red, a flicker of panic in her eyes, but she quickly composed herself. She turned her face away, her voice icy. “Just stay here and cool off.” With that, she dragged Caleb out, not looking back.

The door slammed shut, leaving only a chilling silence in the room. I sat frozen on the sofa. Three years of marriage, and I had genuinely loved Celeste. But her? For an intern she’d known for less than a month, she’d trampled my sincerity again and again. This time, I wouldn’t forgive her. I wouldn’t look back. I contacted my lawyer and met him at a nearby coffee shop to draft the divorce papers. “Have you discussed the asset division beforehand?” the lawyer asked, handing me a form. My gaze lingered on the ‘Joint Savings’ column, a flicker of hesitation in my heart. Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared from my phone. It was the motion sensor from my pet monitor at home. I fumbled to open the surveillance feed, a rush of blood pounding in my ears. On the screen, Caleb stood in the middle of the living room, one hand clutching a bleeding arm, his face contorted in fury. He was cursing, “You damn cat, how dare you scratch me!” He grabbed a rope and tightly strung up Jasper, my cat. Jasper dangled, kicking futilely, a desperate, wheezing cry tearing from his throat. He was clearly suffocating. He seemed to notice the camera lens shift slightly and deliberately spoke up. “Celeste, I think it’s stopped breathing. What do we do? Julian won’t blame you, right?” Celeste, carefully bandaging his wound, didn’t even look up at his words. “As long as you’re okay. That little beast scratched you, it’s better off dead anyway.” I grabbed my car keys and stormed out, the lawyer’s shouts fading behind me. Jasper, wait for me, please wait for me. My hand was still trembling as I slid the key into the lock. The door swung open, revealing a terrifying silence in the living room. Caleb was gone. Jasper was curled into a tiny ball, his body already cold. His once fluffy, soft golden fur was matted and tangled, his body covered in dried bloodstains. Even his usually nimble paws were eerily twisted. I sank to my knees, my trembling hands reaching for Jasper’s stiff, cold fur. Tears fell freely. I couldn’t bear to imagine the torture he’d endured while I was on my way back. “You’re back?” Celeste’s voice drifted from the bedroom. She stood in the doorway, taking in my tear-streaked face without a flicker of feeling. “I know you’re upset about the cat. But he clawed Caleb. Caleb’s in the ER right now, getting it cleaned.” She then glanced at the cat’s lifeless body on the floor, her brow furrowed in disgust. “Clean it up. There’s blood all over the floor, it’s so dirty.” “Dirty?” My voice trembled. “That’s Jasper! You found her abandoned in an alleyway, and you said we’d treat her like our own child!” She just pursed her lips. “It’s just an animal, isn’t it? If it dies, we can just get another one.” Watching her cold indifference, my heart sank into a bottomless abyss. Suddenly, she handed me a stack of papers. “Sign these.” I glanced up, realizing it was a letter of recommendation. For Caleb. Seeing I ignored her, she spoke again, her tone flat. “You got Caleb fired, and he’s quite pathetic. Your main company’s General Manager position is open, so just let him have it!” I felt nothing but absurdity and a chilling disgust. I shoved the papers away, barely suppressing my rage. “I’m telling you, Celeste! As long as I’m a board member of this company, he will never get into the main office!”

With that, I stopped looking at her, scooped up Jasper, and quickly walked out the door. I found a secluded spot in the garden, Jasper’s favorite place to play, placed her favorite toy, and buried her myself. Staring at the small, slightly raised mound of earth, the tears I’d held back finally fell. My relationship with Celeste, like Jasper, was slowly, painfully, dying. Before I could even process the grief of losing Jasper, I opened my phone to a flood of breaking news. Celeste had actually used the company’s official account to release a statement, accusing me of abuse of power, mistreating employees, and even tax evasion. Every single accusation was baseless, yet they were written so convincingly. Instantly, the company’s stock plummeted, and a tidal wave of accusations and insults crashed down online. “A company this big dares to evade taxes? They must pay!” “I always knew the CEO of a major corporation like this couldn’t be good news. Thank God justice is being served; he needs to be locked up now!” Then came a message from Celeste. “Just agree to my previous demand, let Caleb into the main office, and I’ll suppress all these stories immediately.” I didn’t reply. She sent another message: “You have one night to think this through.” I stared at the words, my chest feeling as though it had been crushed by a massive boulder, suffocating me. For Caleb, she was willing to go this far, to destroy me, to destroy our company. If that’s how she wanted to play, then she couldn’t blame me for showing no mercy. She wanted to burn everything down? I’d oblige. But the cost… let’s see if she and Caleb could afford it! The next day, the company’s going-public ceremony was held as scheduled. I knew she’d be there, waiting for my answer. I took a deep breath, adjusted my suit, and drove to the ceremony. From a distance, I saw her, arm-in-arm with Caleb, standing at the podium. They looked intimately close, like they were soulmates. Caleb saw me too, his eyes filled with a provocative, arrogant glint, as if proclaiming his victory. Her gaze swept over me, and a confident, knowing smile touched her lips. She probably thought I’d finally come to my senses, ready to compromise. Celeste cleared her throat, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Distinguished media friends! Now, I have a very important announcement to make: Caleb will be taking over as General Manager of the company!” I walked toward them and stopped just out of reach. Reporters around me aimed their cameras, flashbulbs popping incessantly. “Julian, are the rumors true? That you abuse your authority?” “Is it over between you and Celeste? She’s holding his hand right now.” I ignored the whispers, the hungry stares. I looked only at Celeste. My voice, when it came through the microphone, was cold and absolute as a verdict. “Let’s get a divorce.” Her smile froze. Her pupils dilated. She was stunned. I didn’t wait. “Also, fabricating and spreading defamatory lies is a crime. I’ve filed a report with the police. All evidence has been submitted.” “All investments in Vance Holdings are now suspended. We’ll settle this in court.”

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The year Chloe’s life imploded, she was sexually assaulted. Someone recorded it, then splashed the video all over the internet. I saved her when she was about to leap from a rooftop. I stayed by her side through her darkest hours. Five years later, she became a top lawyer and proposed to me. But just before our wedding, the man who’d assaulted her showed up, driving a fancy sports car. He wrapped an arm around Chloe’s waist, gave her a casual, almost possessive kiss. Then he lifted his chin toward me, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks, man. Couldn’t have asked for a better fiancée. As a reward, you can host the wedding.” My blood ran cold. I stared at Chloe. She didn’t look back. She just stared at the ground, her silence a deafening yes. Blake’s hand was still draped over Chloe’s waist, a blatant claim of ownership. I fixated on Chloe, remembering her standing on that rooftop five years ago. “Alex,” she’d said then, her voice a raw whisper, “if I’m going to live, I’ll live only for you, my entire life.” Now, she leaned obediently into her attacker’s embrace. She was still wearing the wedding dress I’d designed for her myself. Blake then pulled a stack of photos from his jacket pocket and flung them at my face. They were all intimate photos of him and Chloe in a hotel room. On the big hotel bed, Chloe wore a sexy slip dress, her face contorted into an expression of raw desire I’d never seen, kissing Blake passionately. My mind exploded, a deafening roar in my ears. I remembered last night. Chloe, who rarely drank, had gotten completely wasted. The moment she got home, she started kissing me, more fiercely, more desperately, than ever before. “Alex, I love you, I only love you.” She kept repeating it, as if trying to convince me, or maybe herself. Midway through, her phone rang. Her face went bone-white the instant she saw the caller ID, and she abruptly pushed me away. I grabbed her arm, my voice hoarse. “What’s wrong?” She avoided my gaze, her voice laced with panic. “We’re getting married tomorrow. I… I’m a little nervous. I just need some space.” With that, she fled the house as if escaping, and never came home that night. It wasn’t nervousness. She was rushing to meet another man. I bent down, picking up the photos one by one, then walked over to Chloe. She instinctively recoiled a step. I sneered, tearing the photos into tiny shreds. Then, I pulled a velvet ring box from my pocket, opened it. Inside was the diamond ring I’d spent three months’ salary on. As Chloe’s pupils constricted, I took two steps back and tossed it into the nearby storm drain. Plop. The sound was like a final period mark on our five years together. “Alex!” Chloe’s face finally went white. She screamed. “What are you doing?!” “What am I doing?” I echoed her words, feeling a crushing weight in my chest. Blake stepped forward, shielding Chloe, and pointed a finger at my nose. “Listen, punk. Don’t push your luck. If you dare ruin my day, I’ll make sure you don’t walk out of this street.” I ignored him. I just stared at Chloe, the girl I thought I’d pulled from hell. But she’d never left. She had only learned to survive in a different one, a hell of Blake’s making. I turned, reaching into my briefcase for another file. That was my wedding gift or Chloe, prepared long in advance. A heavy dossier of evidence: years of Blake’s bullying, corporate fraud, sexual assault, and bribery. For five years, while working multiple jobs to put her through law school, I had quietly gathered everything. I thought, once she became a lawyer, she could personally send this monster to prison. That it would be her fresh start. But now, she stood with the monster. I walked straight to a police officer who was handling a minor dispute nearby, clutching the file. I handed over the thick stack of documents. “Officer, I’m filing a formal complaint against Blake Sterling.” I pointed at Chloe. Chloe panicked. She lunged for the file, but an officer blocked her. When our eyes locked, I saw no guilt but hate. After one last venomous glare, she turned and threw herself into Blake’s sports car. The tires screeched, and she was gone without a look back. Sirens wailed. I was led to a squad car. Through the tinted window, I watched the red blur of the car carry my fiancée away until it dissolved into the dust and distance. My bride had run off with the monster who broke her. And on my wedding day, I found myself in handcuffs at the police station.

“The evidence chain is incomplete, and too much time has passed. It’s going to be very difficult to file a case.” Inside the police station, the young officer shook his head, looking through the materials I’d provided. I sat on the cold chair, unable to say a word. My mind replayed the last five years. To put Chloe through the best law school overseas, I worked three jobs a day. Daytime construction, dishwashing at a restaurant at night, and then late-night food delivery shifts. She suffered from severe PTSD, waking up screaming from nightmares almost every night. I would hold her, comfort her. I thought I’d pulled her from the abyss. I never knew she’d turn around and willingly jump back in. The interrogation room door swung open. Chloe walked in, followed by a formidable team of lawyers. Her face was perfectly made up, devoid of all emotion, her eyes cold as if looking at a stranger. She placed a document on the table before me, her voice icy. “Alex, I’m Mr. Sterling’s attorney. You must retract this false accusation and issue a public apology. This is malicious prosecution.” I looked up, my voice trembling. “Chloe, have you forgotten what you told me on that rooftop five years ago? You said you’d make sure men like Blake faced justice! That you’d use the law to protect others like you!” Chloe looked at me, a mocking smirk on her lips. “People have to move on, Alex.” She paused, a hint of pity even gracing her features. “Blake’s father has promised to invest thirty million dollars into my law firm if I make this problem disappear. Do you know what that means? It means I can instantly become one of the top lawyers in the industry.” I felt my blood slowly turn to ice. “So, your success means being his lapdog?” SLAP! A sharp, stinging slap landed hard on my face. My cheek burned. Chloe’s hand trembled, her chest heaving. My words had clearly enraged her. “What do you know?! This is a shortcut! A shortcut someone like you, who’ll spend their entire life struggling in the trenches, will never understand!” She pulled a black bank card from her designer Hermès bag and threw it on the table in front of me. “There’s half a million in there. Consider it payment for the last five years. From today on, we’re even.” I stared at the cold card and laughed. Then I forcefully snapped the card in two. I stood up and said. “Chloe. We’re not even. You owe me. And I’ll make sure you pay it back, with interest.” The officer, having finished his current task, walked over to me. “We’ve processed your report. Regarding your alleged malicious prosecution, there’s currently insufficient evidence. You’re free to go. We’ll contact you if needed.” I stood up, pushed my chair back, and walked out of the police station without a backward glance.

When I returned to our apartment, Chloe’s belongings were all gone, leaving behind only scattered debris and empty rooms. They silently mocked me, the abandoned fool. On the wall, our sweet photos still hung. I took down the picture frame, and along with every other trace of her in the room, I threw it into the downstairs trash can. I had planned to get married yesterday, then bring the marriage certificate to my father’s grave today, to surprise him. My father, a respected and incorruptible judge during his lifetime, had passed away too soon from overwork and illness. I carried a bouquet of white lilies to the cemetery. From a distance, I saw a few people gathered around my father’s tombstone. As I drew closer, my feet froze. It was Blake and Chloe. Blake held an expensive bottle of wine, slowly pouring it over the top of my father’s tombstone. Dark red liquid snaked down the cold stone, staining my father’s grave. He was muttering obscenities under his breath. “Stupid old man, had to make a big deal out of my dad’s little business hiccup back then, cost us a fortune. Now what? Your favorite student is still happily lying in my bed.” Blake continued to pour, spewing insults and dirty words. And Chloe just stood by, a document in her hand, her expression cold, her eyes vacant. She watched, unmoved, as my father’s tombstone was desecrated. In that instant, all the blood rushed to my head. I lunged forward like a madman. “Blake! I’ll kill you!” I shoved his bodyguards aside and punched him square in the face. He staggered back a few steps, spitting out a mouthful of blood. I lunged again, ready to fight him to the death, but his two burly bodyguards grabbed me, pinning me to the ground. The taste of dirt and grass filled my mouth and nose. I struggled, my eyes bloodshot, glaring at Chloe. “Chloe! Look closely! He’s insulting my dad! He helped you in your darkest hour, and he’s insulting everything you once believed in!” “Have you forgotten why you studied law? You said you wanted to be just like my dad!” Chloe finally moved. She walked to me slowly, then knelt. In her hand was a single document. It was a summary of withdrawal requests-name after name of the victims from the corporate fraud case involving Blake’s father years ago. My father, the presiding judge for that case, had faced immense pressure but insisted on a thorough investigation until his dying day. Now, Chloe had used every legal maneuver, every polished skill, to coerce and convince each victim to sign away their right to seek justice. With these signatures, the case my father died trying to solve was buried forever. Chloe wouldn’t meet my eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper. “We have to move on, Alex.” “Digging up the past helps no one.” Blake wiped the blood from his lip, a smug grin spreading across his face as he walked over. He let out a triumphant laugh. He strode over, pulled Chloe against him, and fixed me with a look of pure contempt. “You hear that? Your old man was just a stubborn fool who couldn’t read the room.” “Now, your girlfriend, using all the tricks your dad taught her, has perfectly helped our family close all the legal loopholes.” He leaned closer, whispering in my ear, a voice only we could hear. “You know, last night, she even went down on me.” “I’ll kill you!” I completely lost control, lunging at Blake again. But before my fist could connect, his two bodyguards had me pinned to the ground. My cheek pressed against the cold, rough earth. Blake put his foot on my right hand and slowly, forcefully, twisted. “Agh!” The sound of bones cracking, accompanied by my agonizing scream, echoed through the entire cemetery. Excruciating pain spread from my hand throughout my body. I convulsed in agony, cold sweat instantly drenching my back. In the moment before my consciousness faded, I used every ounce of strength to lift my head and look at Chloe. She just stood there, watching, utterly cold and indifferent. As darkness consumed me, I heard her say one last thing to Blake. “Don’t kill him. Keep him alive. He’s still useful.”

I woke to the smell of disinfectant in the hospital. My right hand was encased in a thick cast, immobile and throbbing with excruciating pain. Two men in black stood guard at the door of my room. Chloe had me imprisoned. When she pushed the door open, she was wearing a sleek business suit, her makeup flawless. She was back to being the brilliant, golden-girl lawyer. She placed a gilt-edged invitation on my bedside table. It was for her law firm’s opening celebration party. Tonight. “Alex, all you have to do is publicly apologize to me and Blake at the party, admit that everything before was a malicious accusation driven by your unrequited love.” She looked down at me, her tone condescending, almost charitable. “And we’ll let bygones be bygones.” She even offered a magnanimous smile. “For old times’ sake, I can arrange a quiet administrative position for you at my firm.” “Fifteen hundred a month, that should be enough for you to live on.” I looked at her, at the face I once adored, and suddenly felt utterly alienated. I slowly forced a smile, one that was submissive, even a little fawning. “Okay.” “I’ll apologize.” She seemed pleased by my “sensible” decision, a slight upturn of her lips. She turned and walked out, her heels clicking on the floor. She nodded in satisfaction. “Smart move. You’ve finally come to your senses.” On the night of the party, bodyguards “escorted” me to the venue. The city’s legal elite were all there, and the media’s camera flashes were blinding. Chloe and Blake stood on stage like a perfect, dazzling couple, basking in everyone’s congratulations and flattery. I, like a defeated captive, was “invited” by her assistant to the most inconspicuous corner of the hall. Finally, it was time for the highly anticipated “apology” segment. The host announced in an enthusiastic tone, “Now, please welcome a special guest, Mr. Alex Harper, to say a few words.” All eyes instantly focused on me. There was pity, disdain, and schadenfreude from those eager for drama. I calmly walked onto the stage and took the microphone. Chloe stood beside me, giving me a warning look, silently telling me to behave. I bowed deeply to the sea of faces and the countless flashing cameras below. Then, I pulled a hospital injury report from my pocket. “I, Alex Harper, am formally filing a lawsuit for intentional assault against Mr. Blake Sterling here today.” “Furthermore, I will be filing an indefinite lawsuit against Mr. Blake Sterling and all companies under his father’s name for tax evasion, corporate fraud, and all other illegal activities.” My voice, amplified by the microphone, echoed through the entire ballroom. The hall erupted in chaos! Reporters’ flashlights flared frantically. Chloe’s face drained of color. She lunged for the microphone, but I turned and stepped clear. I looked at her panic and made my second announcement. “Second, I have formally accepted an offer to join Morning Star Law Firm as a junior partner.” “My first case will be my own.” The hall exploded! Everyone knew Morning Star was the archrival of Chloe’s firm, locked in a bitter feud. As the crowd stared, a woman in a sharp white suit walked onto the stage, heels clicking with purpose. She came straight to my side. Her presence was commanding, her gaze razor sharp. “Hello, I’m Sierra Hunter.” Chloe went sheet white the moment she saw her. She rushed the stage. “Alex, you wouldn’t dare!” But before she could reach us, several of Sierra’s security personnel calmly blocked her path. Every eye in the room shifted from Chloe to the woman standing beside me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “329362”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance