After I got pregnant, my boyfriend tricked me into going to the rainforest to “relax.” Once inside, he took all the supplies and pushed me down a steep slope. This was not an accident. His one true love had said it herself— as long as the baby and I were alive, her life would be ruined. In my previous life, I bled to death in the jungle. He faced a live camera and announced: I had insisted on the expedition and died by my own recklessness. This time— the woman they personally killed walked back into the spotlight, alive. There was a sharp pain coming from my body, and I slowly opened my eyes to find myself at the bottom of a cliff in the forest. If it weren’t for the soft dirt beneath me, I would have died. I was a guide at Ailfa Mount Forest Park and was 12 weeks pregnant. I was supposed to be resting at home, but my husband, Bradley Cooper, insisted that I be a guide for his childhood friend, Ashley Thompson. I was furious. “I’m pregnant now. Why are you making me give Ashley a tour guide?” Bradley said, “If Ashley’s personal tour guide hadn’t had a temporary commitment, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this, Amanda. Besides, you’re only 12 weeks pregnant. It won’t hurt.” I got angry and said angrily, “I’m not going.” “Go or get a divorce,” said Bradley. I could only compromise. In my previous life, I had taken Ashley walking in the safety of the forest park. But she took advantage of my inattention and ran into the primitive forest of Ailfa Mount, which was infested with poisonous insects, miasma, and crisis. I couldn’t leave her alone and had to chase after her. When I came to a cliff, Ashley said that there seemed to be a person at the bottom of the cliff, so I went over to look. But she suddenly pushed me off the cliff. Ashley said, “Amanda, go to hell. As long as you die, I can be with Bradley.” Luckily, the bottom of the cliff was soft dirt, and I survived. I endured the excruciating pain and groped for half an hour on the ground full of rotten and withered leaves before I finally found the micro-recorder. In my previous life, after I awakened, I had been eager to save myself. Only after I was saved did I realize that the micro-recorder was gone. Without the micro recorder, no matter how I explained the truth, Bradley just didn’t believe me. I took a closer look at the micro-recorder and was relieved to find that it was not broken. I had a habit of taking the recorder with me when I did one-on-one guided tours so that I could have proof if something happened that I couldn’t explain. The one thing I could be sure of now was that Ashley had dared to kill me in the primeval forest because she had traveled this road with her private guide. But she overestimated herself. The primeval forest of Ailfa Mount was like a labyrinth. Even if she had walked through it dozens of times, she would still get lost, let alone without a guide, which was why she was also in danger. After I bandaged my injured leg at the bottom of the cliff, I immediately followed the route I had taken in my previous life to leave the mountain. In this life, I didn’t want anything to do with Bradley and wouldn’t ask him for help. Coming to the tree I had seen in my previous life, I realized that there were two paths in front of me. In my previous life, I chose the left one, which led to getting lost before I asked Bradley for help. In this life, I chose the right path and headed for the right side. After I had walked 1250 yards, there was a sudden chill of cold air in front of me, and then I realized that a white mist had risen from the ground. I hastily retreated. The white mist was miasma, and I would die if I inhaled it. I was forced to the tree again. Looking at the time, it was already past three in the afternoon. Ailfa Mount would be dark by five. At night, Ailfa Mount was infested with poisonous insects and wild animals, and it was very cold. It would be dangerous for me to lose my warmth. I had no choice but to take the left side of the road. After an hour or so, it was dark. I climbed up a tree and looked for a signal source. At this time, my cell phone battery was only 2% left. Luckily, as in my previous life, I got through to Bradley at the last minute. “Bradley, I’m in distress, probably southeast of Ailfa Mount, within 9100 yards upstream of Snake Lake. Come and help me,” I yelled. Bradley said, “How could you, as a veteran guide at Ailfa Mount, not get out? You’re such a vicious woman. How dare you take Ashley into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount? Do you want to kill Ashley? I know what’s in your mind. Don’t pretend to be lost. I’ll settle the score with you when you get out. Right now, I’m going to save Ashley.”

With that, Bradley hung up. I froze. What was going on? In my previous life, he would have obviously come to my rescue first, and he didn’t say those words. After thinking for a moment, I suddenly understood. Bradley had also been reborn. This time, he chose to save Ashley first. I tried to call the rescue center, but my phone was dead. I felt a wave of fear enveloped me. On all sides were interlocking and strange trees, and the weird noises were emanating from the gloom. I couldn’t delay any longer and had to get out of the mountain quickly. At the moment, I was lost in reverse, but I had to keep going. My injured leg went from pain to numbness. As I walked, it got dark. I was exhausted. The water and food in my backpack had been eaten up by Ashley not long into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount. I sat on the ground panting heavily as the temperature reached 23 degrees Fahrenheit and the branches of the trees lit up with eerie silver “lights”. They were night birds staring at me. In the distance, there was a horrible hissing of wild animals. I was a bit desperate, not knowing whether I could get out alive. Just then, a few lights penetrated through. It was the rescue team coming. “Amanda, why aren’t you out yet?” The two team members who came, Dylan Murphy and Joshua Collins, were Bradley’s men. “Dylan, Joshua, it’s good you’re here. Hurry up and get me out of here,” I said breathlessly. “But we have a mission. Bradley told us to search and rescue Ashley,” said Dylan. “Aren’t you guys going to rescue me?” I questioned. At that moment, Dylan’s satellite phone rang, and it was Bradley calling. Bradley asked, “Did you two find Ashley?” Dylan replied, “Bradley, we didn’t find Ashley, but we did find Amanda. Should we take Amanda out first?” “Don’t bother with her. She’s just trying to delay you guys from getting to Ashley. You guys hurry and head downstream to Snake Lake,” said Bradley anxiously. “Dylan, Joshua, I’m really dying. Why don’t one of you two take me out first, and the rest of you keep looking for Ashley?” I pleaded. “Amanda, the rescue team has a rule that two people are required for an action. Going alone would be dangerous,” explained Dylan. “Amanda, our whole team knows that you hate Ashley. But you went too far this time. How could you take Ashley into the primeval forest? You should know very well the danger of Ailfa Mount.” Joshua complained about me for Ashley. Dylan said, “Joshua is right. Amanda, you really went too far this time. If anything happens to Ashley, you are legally responsible. “Also, how could you get lost? You’re the guide of Ailfa Mount. You should be more familiar with the geography here than us.” I was a guide for the Ailfa Mount attractions, not for the Ailfa Mount primeval forest. Dylan said, “Amanda, stop pretending.” “I’m not pretending. Can’t you guys see that my leg is hurt?” I said angrily. Dylan looked at my leg and said, “Then you wait for us here, and we’ll go search and rescue Ashley first.” Wait? How long would I have to wait? I didn’t know if Ashley had been bitten by a snake right now. If a snake had bitten her, they would have waited in place for a helicopter rescue. At that time, would they be able to come back and rescue me? I said, “Give me water, food, and an outdoor jacket, and I’ll get out on my own.” I decided to save myself. After giving me the supplies, they both continued to swim down towards Snake Lake. I was less tired after I put on the outdoor jacket, drank water, and ate cookies. I couldn’t continue walking at night. A campfire was built, and I was too wary to sleep. Just after six in the morning, a faint bright light shone through the cracks in the branches of the trees to the ground, and I started to move. After six hours of walking, I finally made it to the exit. Just at the moment of relief, the stabbing pain in my leg and exhaustion suddenly hit me, and I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital at the Ailfa Mount. “Amanda, would you like some water?” A girl asked me. “Hailey?” She was Hailey Richardson, my coworker. She had happened to find me fainting at the exit and took me to the hospital. “How did you get into the primeval forest?” asked Hailey, puzzled. I said, “It’s complicated.” Just then, Bradley’s voice came from the corridor. “Where is she?” Hailey immediately walked over. “Bradley, your wife is here.” The door to the ward was open. I looked over at Bradley, and his eyes were so cold. A man said, “Bradley, Ashley is in Ward 8.” “How is she?” Bradley asked. The man replied, “She’s fine, just losing her warmth.” “That’s good.” Bradley went straight to Ward 8. Hailey was shocked. “Why didn’t your husband come in to see you?” I smiled bitterly and didn’t explain. The next day at noon, I saw Bradley walking through the corridor with a lunch box. He didn’t even glance toward me as if I didn’t exist. I had bought that lunchbox. I would often go to the rescue unit to bring food to Bradley. Now, he was carrying my lunchbox and delivering food to his beloved. It was kind of ironic! I was getting ready for bed around ten o’clock at night when Ashley pushed open the door and came in. I asked, “What do you want?” Ashley said wickedly, “I really didn’t think you were so tough that falling off a cliff didn’t kill you.” I said, “Are you going to turn yourself in, or am I going to call the police on you?” Ashley laughed, “Do you have any evidence? Who would believe you?” “There’s always a day when the truth is revealed,” I said. Ashley said smugly, “The truth? The truth right now is that you took me into Ailfa Mount and tried to kill me. I desperately ran away from you and was saved. “By the way, are you having a hard, aggravating time right now? Bradley chose to save me instead of you.” After experiencing my previous life, I was now utterly disappointed in Bradley. If I hadn’t encountered the miasma, I wouldn’t have asked Bradley for help. “Have you finished? Get out when you’re done,” I said in a cold voice. Just then, the sound of steady, heavy footsteps came from the corridor. The footsteps were all too familiar to me. It was Bradley. Suddenly, Ashley slapped herself. Then, she collapsed on the floor and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Bradley and I are just friends, Amanda. I can understand that you don’t believe me. But why did you hit me?” The door to my ward was pushed open. Bradley dropped the food he was holding and ran over, heartbroken, to help Ashley up. “Amanda, you’re a mean, vicious bitch. Ashley wasn’t wrong. Why did you hit her? Don’t you realize she hasn’t recovered from the distress?” “Did I not get in distress? Did I recover physically?” I asked. Bradley said, “You deserved it. If you hadn’t lured Ashley inside the primeval forest, not so much would have happened.” “Do you believe anything she says?” I questioned. Bradley said firmly, “Yes, Ashley doesn’t lie.” I roared, “Fine. I don’t want to argue with you guys. You’re both assholes. Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see either of you.” “My face hurts.” Ashley cried, covering her cheek in aggravation. Bradley was outraged and reached out to slap me hard. I was dazed from the slap and stumbled, falling to the ground. A sharp pain came from my belly. Looking between my legs, I realized that blood was flowing out.

After coming out of the emergency room, the doctor told Bradley and I that the baby was fine. “You rest easy and nurse the baby. Deal with our marriage after the baby is born,” said Bradley icily. “Do you still care about the baby?” I sneered. Bradley said, “Of course. The baby is my bloodline. How could I not care?” His words were so ironic. In my previous life, he had ignored the fact that I was pregnant, locked me up in a secret room full of poisonous snakes, let me be bitten alive by the snakes, and then watched as the already-formed child and I were eaten clean by the snakes. But in this life, he cared about the baby. After Bradley left, I approached the doctor. “Doctor, please perform an abortion on me.” I thought, “My child, don’t blame me for being cruel. Even if I give birth to you, you won’t be happy. Living a new life, I don’t want to have any involvement or ties with Bradley. Forgive me, my child.” After being discharged from the hospital, I returned home and opened my computer to draft the divorce agreement. Just after ten in the evening, Bradley came home. “I have something to say to you.” We both surprisingly spoke in unison. “Go ahead,” I said. Bradley said, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Ashley to apologize, and you’ll have to beg her forgiveness.” I laughed, “Are you insane? Are you asking me to beg her for forgiveness?” “Shouldn’t it be? Ashley and I are just friends. I just think of her as a sister. But you’re so petty and vicious that you always think Ashley and I have something to hide,” said Bradley stubbornly. “Are you sure you really just see Ashley as a sister? What sister would ask you to go to her room in the middle of the night to install a light? What sister would come to my house when I’m on a business trip and watch TV in your arms in a miniskirt?” I retorted. Bradley blushed, obviously knowing I was right. “Regardless, it was your fault for luring Ashley into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount this time. You were so evil that you tried to get Ashley killed. Shouldn’t you apologize?” He said loudly. I was furious and took out my micro-recorder, placing it in front of him, then roared, “See for yourself exactly who harmed whom.”

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On the third day of the nationwide livestream, I became the person everyone wanted to strangle with their own hands. Paralyzed in a wheelchair, I watched my sister work three jobs a day until her kidneys failed—yet I offered not a single word of concern. When she collapsed on the floor, I didn’t call an ambulance. Instead, I transferred my last savings to my gambling-addicted brother. The doctor said that if I donated one kidney, her life could be saved. I only smiled and replied, “No.” They called me a monster who drained my sister dry over a lifetime. But no one knew that I did all this because— Her being alive was more dangerous than her death. As soon as the hidden cameras were installed, the secret livestream began. Vanessa, my “sister,” walked in after work, sporting heavy dark circles under her eyes. She dragged herself to my bedside, preparing to help me clean up. Seeing a mess beneath me, there wasn’t a flicker of disgust in her eyes, only profound heartache and self-reproach. “Lauren, did you have an upset stomach last night?” She touched my forehead, blaming herself. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault; I’ve been so exhausted from work lately that I slept like a rock. I forgot to check on you in the middle of the night and keep your blanket on, leaving you uncomfortable all night…” I watched her silently, not speaking. The live chat, however, exploded: “My God, this sister is incredible! She just got home from work, saw this total mess, and her first reaction was to blame herself.” “Right? If I’d worked all day and came home to that, I’d be fuming!” “She really is a saint; she’s making me tear up!” Vanessa didn’t know about the hidden livestream. She just single-handedly turned me over, preparing to help me to the bathroom for a shower. But she was too tired. Even with all her strength, she struggled to lift me from the bed. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Vanessa opened it to find my brother, Brandon, standing there. Her eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?” Brandon had a cigarette dangling from his lips. He said nonchalantly, “If I’m not mistaken, this apartment is the one Mom and Dad signed over to Lauren, right? As Lauren’s brother, there’s no big deal if I stay at my sister’s place for a few days, is there?” With that, he just barged in. Vanessa was too exhausted to argue after a long day, so she just told Brandon, “Then lend me a hand and help me get Lauren to the bathroom. I need to give her a shower!” Brandon shot me a disgusted glance, muttering, “That’s sickening, she reeks. No way am I touching her!” Vanessa frowned. “Brandon! Lauren is your own sister! She just gave you all the lottery money she won. How can you refuse to even help her?” Brandon scoffed. “She gave me the money willingly. You’re not trying to guilt-trip me, are you?” Vanessa sighed. “I respect all of Lauren’s decisions. She gave you all her winnings because she wanted you and your wife to live well.” “She’s so good to you; can’t you be a little good to her?” Brandon sneered. “What’s the point of being good to her? She’s just a paralyzed invalid, a waste of space for a decade!” “I don’t know why you bother taking care of this useless person every day. She’d be better off dead!” At this sight, the live chat instantly boiled over: “Seriously? Is this guy even human? Wishing his own sister dead right to her face?” “And his sister just handed him all that money!” “I seriously don’t get it. Her sister slaved for a decade taking care of her, went deep into debt, even lost her marriage, and got absolutely nothing in return! Is this sister out of her mind?!” “She’s ungrateful to such an amazing sister but so good to this heartless animal of a brother? Did the paralysis affect her brain too?!”

Brandon didn’t help in the end. It took Vanessa over an hour to clean me up. She was drenched in sweat from exhaustion, but she still meticulously changed my clothes, settling me into my wheelchair. “Lauren, you must be hungry, right? Sister will go make you dinner now.” Due to extreme fatigue, Vanessa almost fainted when she stood up. But she only paused for a few seconds before forcing herself to walk into the kitchen. Soon, she brought out grilled salmon, a rich beef stew, some steamed greens, and a pot of steaming chicken soup. Vanessa placed the dishes in front of me, then carefully blew on a spoonful of chicken soup to cool it before bringing it to my lips. “Lauren, this chicken soup was made from a free-range chicken I specifically bought from the local farmers’ market. You always loved this when you were a kid, try some.” I turned my head, my voice cold. “I don’t want to eat.” Vanessa’s eyes were filled with worry. “Lauren, you already had an upset stomach. If you don’t eat something to replenish your strength, your body won’t be able to take it.” I looked at her, my tone still distant. “I don’t have an appetite.” Then, I looked at Brandon, who was sprawled on the couch playing on his phone, and said softly, “Brandon, I want that pastry on the coffee table.” Brandon didn’t even look up, saying impatiently, “I bought that for myself. If you want it, push your wheelchair and go buy your own!” Vanessa glared at Brandon, then turned to me, her voice gentle. “Lauren, eat your dinner first. After that, I’ll go buy you a pastry, okay?” I stubbornly shook my head, refusing to eat the food she made. At this sight, the live chat exploded: “Is this sister crazy? Refusing her sister’s home-cooked meal, but demanding her brother’s pastry?” “I thought she was just confused, but she’s so utterly pathetic. Her brother treated her like that, and she’s still fixated on his stuff?” “Poor sister, she’s putting in so much thankless effort. She worked so hard to make a whole table of food, and Lauren won’t even look at it.” “That’s disgusting. The more I watch, the more I think this younger sister is such a terrible person!”

The first day of the livestream ended. The chat was filled with insults directed at me. On the second day, Vanessa got off work a little earlier than usual. As she came in, she held a warm bag in her hand. “Lauren, you wanted a pastry yesterday, right? Sister bought it specifically after work. It’s your favorite savory kind, try it quickly.” She handed the pastry to me, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. I glanced at the pastry, my tone indifferent. “I don’t want it now.” A flicker of disappointment and sadness crossed Vanessa’s face. But she forced a smile and said, “What do you want to eat then? Sister will make it for you.” I shot her a cold look. “I don’t want anything you make.” With that, I maneuvered my wheelchair, ready to go to the balcony for some fresh air. As I exited my room, I bumped straight into Brandon, who was holding a liquor bottle. The bottle in his hand fell to the floor, and he immediately exploded in rage. “Damn it, are you blind?! You just spilled all my expensive liquor!” He picked up the bottle and forcefully kicked my wheelchair. The wheelchair lurched violently, tipping to one side. “Lauren!” Vanessa cried out, rushing forward, shielding me and the wheelchair with her body. Her hand was scraped by the wheelchair, leaving a deep gash, visible to the bone, bleeding profusely. But she ignored the pain, quickly steadying me before turning to Brandon, shaken and furious. “Brandon! You almost hurt Lauren!” Brandon glared at me. “She’s useless; she can’t even feel pain. Why are you so worked up?” “This is so annoying! All that good liquor wasted because of her!” Brandon grumbled as he stomped back into his room to continue drinking. Vanessa, still shaken, first checked me all over to make sure I was okay. Only after confirming I was unharmed did she endure the pain in her hand to inspect the kicked wheelchair. Finding a buckle somewhat loose, she immediately pulled out her toolbox. She tightened and reinforced it little by little, working late into the night. In the livestream, the comments continued to boil over: “I’m crying. Where can you find a sister this good? Her hand is so badly injured, yet all she cares about is her sister.” “Seriously, why is this amazing sister so unlucky to be stuck with such a blind, heartless invalid of a sister?” “Exactly! Is this sister’s heart made of stone? Her sister has done so much for her, why is she so cold to her?!” “No wonder they say unfortunate people often have something hateful about them. This sister is so hopelessly biased towards her brother, she deserves to be paralyzed!” “This is so suffocating. Sister, just let go! This kind of sister isn’t worth it!” The livestream chat was filled with outrage. Even Mr. Henderson, the reporter, called me. “Is this the three-day secret livestream you wanted? Do you know what the chat has been saying about you these past two days?” “Your sister has done so much for you. Aren’t you just asking to be hated?” I glanced at Vanessa, who was quietly tending to her wound in the living room, and said calmly, “There’s one last day.” “Then you’ll know everything.”

On the third morning, Vanessa, as usual, came into my room as soon as she woke up. “Lauren, how are you feeling today? Is your appetite any better?” She expertly checked my condition while asking softly. I didn’t answer, only glanced indifferently at her bandaged hand. It was still oozing blood. Seeing me silent, Vanessa, as always, massaged my limbs. She moved my joints, preventing muscle atrophy. Her movements were gentle, as if she were tending to a precious treasure. “Lauren, look how nice the weather is today.” “After breakfast, I’ll push you outside to get some sun. The doctor said outdoor activities are good for your health.” She looked out the window, trying to find topics of conversation. But I remained cold. “No thanks.” Her hand paused slightly, and she said nothing more. After the massage, she fetched warm water, meticulously washed my face and hands, then made me breakfast. The livestream comments continued to scroll: “This sister is still being her same stubborn, lifeless act today. It’s infuriating.” “Exactly! Her sister’s hand is so badly injured, and she still has to take care of her. Does she not even offer a word of concern?” “Honestly disgusting. Some people just don’t deserve kindness!” That day, Vanessa didn’t go to work. She said she wanted to spend quality time with me. After finishing everything, she pushed me to the balcony to get some sun. She combed my hair, trimmed my nails, and cleaned my ears. She made sure every inch of me was clean and tidy. After all the chores, she pulled a small stool and sat beside me. Gripping my hand tightly, she began to speak softly. “Lauren, do you remember? When we were little, you loved to pull me onto the balcony to sunbathe. You said the sun always made you feel better.” “On my wedding day, you cried so much, clinging to my hand and refusing to let go.” “You once said your biggest wish was for me to be happy…” As she spoke, her eyes welled up. Just then, her phone rang. But she didn’t answer. Instead, she gave me a deep look, then hung up. Then, she looked at me, a faint smile on her face. “Lauren, it’s time.” I smiled faintly. This moment, it was finally here. With that, Vanessa straightened up, gave me a cryptic look. And then she did something that stunned every single viewer watching the livestream…

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In the seventh year of our marriage, he made the decision for me and agreed to put us on a divorce reality show. The reasons were impeccable—high ratings, high returns, a reliable way to stabilize the company’s stock price. In short, not a single one had anything to do with me. As always, I simply nodded and played along. On the day of filming, he already had the script written in his head: I would lose control, and he would step in afterward and magnanimous. But the moment the lights came on, I felt an unexpected clarity. So I looked straight into the camera and said evenly, “I want a divorce.” I think that when he agreed to join the show, he must have already prepared himself to be devoured by his own plan. When my agent informed me about participating in a divorce-themed reality show, I paused. “James agreed?” “Of course.” She seemed amused by my question. “Your recent livestreams haven’t performed well, and celebrity divorce topics are trending right now. James specifically cleared ten days in his schedule to film with you. Make the most of this opportunity – it’s the least you can do after all his support.” I remained silent. The word “support” was interesting – it suggested a mentor and mentee, a teacher and student, business partners. Anything but husband and wife. “Just sign it.” She tossed the contract in front of me. I stared at the thin stack of papers without moving. She glanced at me with a smirk. “Relax, it’s not a real divorce.” “I’ll review the show’s content first and let you know when I’ve signed.” She frowned, clearly displeased. “James has already approved this.” As she left, her parting words floated back: “Why make things so difficult? You’ll end up signing anyway.”

That evening, James called. When his deep, magnetic voice came through, I felt strangely unfamiliar with it. His latest company project had kept us apart for two months. His phone was usually with his assistant Chloe. To reach him, I had to explain my purpose to her first, and she would decide if the call was worth passing through. So I generally didn’t bother trying. “Sophia.” Music played softly in the background. “I heard you were being difficult today?” I paused. “Heard? From whom?” He sounded annoyed. “I’m too busy these days to coach you, but you need to grow up. Work is work – you need to be professional, not act like a child.” I gave a soft “Oh.” “About that reality show – word travels fast. I see the agent complained to Chloe. And being difficult? Just because I said I wanted to review the contract before signing?” The phone went quiet for two seconds before his slightly weary voice returned. “You didn’t even finish college. What could you possibly understand about contracts?” “Everything’s been prepared for you. You just need to sign. Everyone’s already exhausted, why can’t you be more considerate instead of creating obstacles for the staff?” “Sophia, when will you ever mature…” That tone again. For years, whenever I didn’t follow his instructions, whenever I expressed my own opinions, I faced this attitude from him. Mild reproach mixed with hints of disappointment and resignation. The familiar suffocating feeling rose from deep within, blocking my chest, choking my throat until I couldn’t speak. “James!” A soft, pleasant female voice cut in. “I think I can guess what Mrs. Thompson is concerned about.” It was Chloe. James didn’t respond. His silence was acceptance. Chloe let out two melodious laughs and continued smoothly. “This is a divorce reality show after all. Mrs. Thompson has to declare she wants a divorce in front of a national audience. She loves you so much, naturally she’s worried that pretending might accidentally become reality.” “So James, this is actually your fault. You didn’t consider her feelings and handled it too roughly. Her sulking is understandable.” I froze. Setting aside her presumptuous interpretation of my feelings and dismissing my concerns as mere sulking… She was criticizing James. Criticizing the usually towering, all-knowing James of being wrong. I couldn’t help but be curious about his reaction. Over the phone, James was quiet for a moment before giving a low “Mm.” “Chloe makes a good point. Sophia, I didn’t think this through properly.” In that instant, I let out a silent laugh. Outside, the few remaining leaves on the sycamore tree were caught by an autumn breeze from somewhere, falling silently to the ground. “However,” James continued, “besides being husband and wife, we’re also business partners with cross-holdings in multiple companies. Divorce would benefit neither of us. These worries of yours – if you’d just think it through logically, you’d know they’re unnecessary. Sophia, you’ve been with me for five years. I thought you’d learned to analyze situations objectively by now. You need to work on this – learn from Chloe’s example.” Chloe and I were both twenty-seven. We’d met James in the same year. The difference was that she came from an elite background, graduated from Stanford, and possessed both intelligence and grace – the perfect combination of beauty and brains. I was just a reality show contestant who dropped out of college to act, making a name for myself solely on looks. Critics said of me, “Beautiful, yes, but soulless.” Initially, I actually thought James would choose her… Now, James had finished speaking and fallen silent. He was waiting for me to apologize and reflect, like always. He would incisively point out my shallow understanding and immature mindset, and I would sincerely reflect, accepting his criticism or working harder. But this time, I said nothing. Through the phone, only the tireless background music continued to flow. After a while, I asked: “You have me on speaker?” One of our few arguments in four years of marriage had been when I called him to be affectionate one time and heard Chloe’s sudden laughter. Later, discovering he had me on speaker, I was mortified and furious, crying hard until he promised it would never happen again. Back then, our relationship had still been good. He had promised. “Sophia.” James clearly remembered this incident. “Chloe had some wine at dinner, I’m driving with navigation on, so—” “It’s fine, I was just asking.” I laughed noncommittally, my eyes falling on the signature line at the bottom of the contract. “I’ve signed the contract. I’ll give it to the agent tomorrow.” James was satisfied. Satisfied that I hadn’t dwelled on Chloe’s presence. Satisfied that I had once again docilely accepted his arrangements. “You’ve always wanted to visit Altai, haven’t you? Once things settle down, I’ll make time to take you there.” “We’ll see.” I hung up the phone.

My first meeting with James after two months was on set. My agent dropped me off, while Chloe accompanied him. Two cars arrived from different directions, doors opening simultaneously. He was in the middle of a conference call, standing sideways in his impeccable suit, his profile cutting a striking figure. Chloe wore a navy fitted trench coat, her long hair dancing in the wind as she waited quietly beside him. I tilted my head, observing them. I had to admit they made a stunning pair. My agent abandoned me to hurry over to them. “Mr. Thompson!” “Ms. Chloe!” Chloe merely nodded, indicating not to disturb him. She didn’t glance my way once. The three of them stood together on one side. On the other, I silently unloaded my own luggage. Though the cars weren’t far apart, it felt like we were separated by galaxies. I wheeled my luggage inside first. The other two couples were already seated on the couch – one pair were singers, the other regular people. I smiled and greeted them. Through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, I could clearly see Chloe bending down, carefully helping James with his suit buttons. Her face was at his waist level, long hair tangling around her waist in the wind, creating an ambiguous scene. The regular wife was quite outspoken. She nodded towards them and bluntly asked: “Is she the reason you’re getting divorced?” I smiled. “No.” The four people inside clearly didn’t believe me, secretly sneering. James walked in, surrounded by staff. Seeing me, he sat down beside me, showing mild displeasure. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I started peeling an orange from the table. “I came in to learn about the process first, so we wouldn’t keep the crew waiting.” He glanced at me, surprise flickering in his eyes. After all, I used to be someone who would try every possible way to assert my claim on him whenever I was by his side. “You need to firmly choose divorce for the first two times, only giving up in the final choice for the twist.” He instructed me in a deep voice. I nodded, popping the orange into my mouth.

The agent’s script went like this: I want a divorce, he doesn’t. He joins this show to understand my thoughts and save our marriage. After arguments and honest communication, I finally reveal it’s because he’s been too busy with work and absent these past few years. He sincerely apologizes and promises to focus more on family from now on. Finally, I tearfully admit I still love him and give up on divorce. We reconcile, and everyone’s happy. It was completely fake. Seeing me frown, my agent mockingly asked: “Don’t tell me you want to make it real?” I had once asked James to change my agent. Chloe opposed it, citing the agent’s extensive network and professional expertise. James supported her opposition and told me to prioritize work over being difficult. Naturally, my agent despised me. And I didn’t like her either. The first day had no filming, only pre-show interviews. In the interview room, couples made their first choices. “I want a divorce.” I spoke calmly to the camera. James frowned beside me. “You need to show more emotion when you say it. We need engagement, discussion, views,” he critiqued. “Otherwise, who would believe you want to divorce me? They’ll just think you’re acting again.” “Use your head more. I can’t always guide you through everything.” I opened my mouth to speak but was overwhelmed by a deep sense of powerlessness. I couldn’t bring myself to say a single word. These past two years, I’d been constantly wrapped in these emotions, as if trapped in a cage. Though I knew I needed to break free, I always seemed to lack the strength. When internal energy is insufficient, external force becomes necessary. The director was a young man who still maintained an uncorrupted purity about him. He reviewed the footage. “Actually, it comes across well. As an experienced actress, you conveyed the emotion perfectly.” During James’s individual interview, I waited outside, not wanting to listen. My phone rang – surprisingly, it was Chloe. I initially wanted to reject the call but thought better of it and answered. “He’s almost done with the interview. Just call him directly later.” “Mrs. Thompson, I’m not calling for him. I’m calling for you.” “For me?” “Yes. James has never been away from me for several days straight. There are two things I need to remind you about.” Chloe’s tone was gentle and polite. I watched James walk out of the door and put the phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Assistant Chloe.” Chloe’s elegant voice echoed in the hallway. “First, James’s throat inflammation has flared up. I put his medicine in the inner pocket of his black bag. Please don’t let him eat anything cold or spicy, it’ll irritate his throat. Second, he sometimes gets migraines at night. Remember to massage his temples – it needs to be continuous for ten minutes to be effective. If you’re not sure about the technique, you can call me anytime.” “Mrs. Thompson, did you get all that?” Before I could answer, James snatched the phone from my hand and spoke coldly: “Chloe, who told you to call Sophia?” The other end suddenly went silent. I found it somewhat amusing and actually laughed. James watched me, his scrutinizing gaze tinged with confusion. In the past, in situations like this, I would have caused a scene, angrily accusing Chloe and crying to him in hurt. While Chloe would always remain emotionally stable, explaining things gracefully, making me look like a lunatic. “She means well. You’re scaring her with that tone,” I said, taking the phone back from him and hanging up. I walked straight to the interview room. We still had the couple’s joint interview to do. As I pushed the door open, James was still standing by the corridor window, motionless. Suddenly he called out: “You’re not bothered?” I looked at him. “Bothered by what?” His composed features flickered with irritation. “Nothing. Let’s go in.”

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I Fell for My Boss He taught me the tricks to getting promoted and a raise—up close and personal. Feeling the clash of our bodies, I sank deep into a web of self-deception… Blake Harrison was my boss, in a sharp tailored suit, his long fingers holding a pen as he stood in front of everyone delivering a speech. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses was a restrained maturity far different from us fresh-out-of-college grads. I watched his distinct knuckles push up his glasses, unconsciously crossing my legs. God, Mr. Harrison is so hot! Sexy yet so controlled—if only those hands could caress my body… Imagining that blush-worthy scene, my face flushed and my breathing quickened. “Emily Brooks, what do you think about Apex Corp’s profit this quarter?” The boss’s voice suddenly rang out. Startled, I jumped up from my chair. The movement was too sudden, making my well-developed curves bounce noticeably. “I… I…” “Boss, sorry, I don’t know…” I lowered my head in regret—getting caught fantasizing about the boss in public was so embarrassing! “Sit down. Come to my office after work.” Blake Harrison’s sharp gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses nearly made my legs give out; it was like he could see through all my thoughts. But my body reacted under his stare, making me even more shy as I bowed my head and clenched my thighs. My face burned; it felt like his eyes scanned every inch of me, as if I were standing naked before him. Blake Harrison turned away, withdrawing his gaze from me, and continued discussing those boring numbers as if nothing had happened. I gripped my skirt tightly, feeling a mix of shame and anticipation, completely missing the dark glint that flashed briefly behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

After work, I lingered in the restroom for a long time before slowly heading to Blake Harrison’s office. I liked Blake Harrison; his handsome, mature aura deeply attracted me. Just thinking about being alone with the boss soon made me excited without realizing it. I deliberately hiked up my pencil skirt high, barely covering my perky backside, revealing my slim, long legs in sheer black stockings. My professional blouse was tailored a bit snug, hugging my perfect curves. I undid a few buttons, wearing a small silver star pendant on my long neck that subtly disappeared into my impressive cleavage. I ran my fingers through my hair a few times and pushed open the door to Blake Harrison’s office. “Boss…” I called out cautiously, entering and closing the door behind me. Blake Harrison was the son of the company’s largest board director, said to be here gaining experience before taking over as boss of this branch. He quickly became the dream guy for countless colleagues thanks to his striking looks and prominent family background. He sat at his desk reviewing files, perhaps tired, having removed his gold-rimmed glasses and set them aside. He looked up; without the glasses, his unguarded gaze swept over my chest and legs. To make the best impression, I straightened my chest to meet his eyes. Honestly, I was a bit scared, not sure what this behavior implied. I just genuinely felt that since I liked him, I wanted to show my best side. But in a flash, Blake Harrison looked away, patting the chair beside him for me to sit. He reverted to his serious, ascetic demeanor from the meeting. I slowly walked over and sat down; maybe I pulled my skirt too short, because sitting made only my tiny panties touch the chair. The cool sensation jolted my overexcited nerves, snapping me back to reality with a sudden fear. Feeling the man’s presence beside me, I grew tense, anxiously clutching my skirt. “HR says you graduated from Northwestern University?” “Um… yes.” Our school was just a regular undergrad program; I never expected to get into this company. I kept my head down, not daring to look at him, staring blankly at my smooth, exposed thighs. “Yeah, that’s right.” Blake Harrison paused, suddenly reaching out to pat and stroke my back. I trembled in fear, but he withdrew his hand and pulled out the report I’d submitted that morning: “There are some issues with this report. I think new hires need more practice. So every evening after work, come to my office to draft a report. I’ll teach you some simple techniques—are you willing?” He emphasized “techniques,” his eyes playful. Maybe I didn’t react fast enough; I looked up, staring at him dazedly. We were very close; he narrowed his eyes, a meaning and darkness I couldn’t read in them. I nodded in a daze: “Ah, okay. Th-thank you, boss.” “No need to thank me.” He smirked like he’d succeeded, suddenly placing his hand on my bare thigh, even rubbing it unconsciously a few times. “Then… let’s start with how to build a good relationship with leadership.” As he spoke, his large palm slowly moved up, touching the fabric under my skirt hem. The man’s breath suddenly neared my ear, his seductive voice whispering: “The quality of your relationship with leadership depends on two factors: one is the employee’s own abilities and qualifications.” He first lingered on my short skirt hem, then narrowed his eyes and suddenly reached under my skirt, touching my smooth core! “Ah! Sir, no!” I cried out in shock, trying to push his hand away, but he increased his force, trapping me in his palm. “Miss Brooks, dressing like this to see me—you want me to do this to you, right?” “I don’t!” I shouted angrily. “Shh—” His finger pressed my lips. “Baby, don’t resist easily. You know the consequences of resisting me.” He smiled, moving his other hand to my chest, continuing: “The second factor influencing the relationship is the employee’s attitude toward leadership—” He rubbed vigorously, I clenched my thighs, unable to hold back a moan. The boss I once admired was such a beast in a suit; I closed my eyes in despair, silently crying. Just then, the office door was knocked on a few times: “Boss, finance says there are a few issues needing your review—it’s urgent.” I looked pleadingly at the man before me, shaking my head. Blake Harrison frowned unhappily, continuing his force below while biting my earlobe: “Miss Brooks, private lessons—this is our little secret.” I quickly agreed, almost fleeing, but as I turned to leave the office, I locked eyes with the person outside. My expression shifted from panic to calm; unnoticed, I slipped a tiny recording device into his pocket— Looks like our fish has taken the bait.

I waited at the corner for a moment until the guy came out of the office. We exchanged a glance, then walked separately to an empty stairwell. “Emily, maybe we should call it off—it’s too risky.” The guy looked worriedly at the red marks still on my thighs, showing reluctance. “I’m fine.” I pulled my skirt down further. “Jack Bennett, I can’t give up. I always dream of Mia’s appearance that day—I can’t forget, I don’t dare forget.” My mind replayed those piercing scenes. My Mia endured far more than this—how could I quit here! Jack Bennett’s eyes reddened too; he took off his jacket and draped it around my waist: “Okay, I’ll stay with you.” Jack Bennett, Mia Thompson, and I grew up together as close friends in an orphanage. Later, though Mia was adopted, our bond remained as strong. Two years ago, after we graduated, Mia interned at this company, and the nightmare began then. I closed my eyes, filled with Mia’s sorrowful cries. Her last phone call in life was to me. Back then, I didn’t know what she was going through. By the time Jack and I arrived, she had no vital signs. The bathtub water was a glaring red; I’ve dreamed countless times of that blood-red water spreading to my feet, swallowing me again and again. I knew that was Mia’s unrest—the person who harmed her was still free; how could she rest in peace? Later, we found Mia’s diary, vaguely recording her admiration for Blake Harrison. Page after page documented a girl’s budding feelings; it also recorded a devil’s crimes. But when we tried to report it, Mia’s adoptive parents, who had always been distant and indifferent, only cared about saving face: “Flies don’t sting seamless eggs—Mia must have had issues herself! I advise you not to blow this up; we can’t afford the shame!” My Mia, in her stifled life, desperately pursued her love, only to be led step by step into hell by a scheming villain. Blake Harrison mentally controlled her, trapping her in endless confusion and fear, until she ended her life this way. But she was clearly in pain, yet in her diary, she brainwashed herself repeatedly, saying it was all for love. Is this love? This is a cage. Mia’s adoptive parents firmly refused to report it; her funeral was hasty. This past year, I’ve secretly investigated many people, realizing Mia wasn’t the only victim. Blake Harrison is cunning; he excels at toying with young girls’ emotions. With money and power, minor scandals pose no threat to him. So this year, while running several social media accounts, Jack and I worked hard to infiltrate this company—just to get the most direct evidence. I rubbed my reddened eyes, touching the small star pendant on my chest, gazing firmly at the darkening sky outside: Mia, none of this was your fault. The bad guys will get the punishment they deserve.

It was time for my appointment with Blake Harrison again; I awkwardly tugged at my skirt hem and entered his office once more. After entering, I followed his instructions and removed my loose outer coat. He still looked impeccably dressed, head raised, staring directly with playful eyes at my outfit today. He placed the chair I sat in between his legs, gesturing for me to sit. I clutched my report, taking small steps to avoid flashing anything. “Why so shy?” Blake Harrison chuckled; when I was a few steps away, he suddenly pulled me into his lap. I lowered my eyes, pretending to be scared. One hand gripped my chin, the other reached under the chair. A “click” sounded, and suddenly my lower body felt cool. The chair had a hollow center! His hand quickly reached in; I trembled involuntarily. He smirked even more playfully, his other hand flipping open my report. On the last blank page, his bold handwriting read: “After work, wear the clothes I sent you and come to the office.” He pressed against my back, hot breath on my ear: “I’ll check if our Emily has been a good girl and listened to the boss…” As he spoke, he reached into my clothes and under my skirt. I endured the discomfort, my voice mosquito-like: “Mr. Harrison… can we not do this?” The man paused, then intensified: “Why? Doesn’t Emily like it?” I bit my lip hard, burying my hate-filled face low: “Is the boss doing this because he likes me?” “Of course—I like every one of you.” He greedily curled his lips, flipping me over so my back was against his desk. “The boss likes young, pretty college girls like you the most.” His forearm hooked under my knees, slowly leaning down to kiss my chest. I grew anxious—if this continued, not only would I fail to get a confession, but my situation would become more dangerous. When Blake Harrison tried to remove my last barrier, I suddenly struggled, with real tears and hatred: “Please, let me go! Boss, please!” I fell to the floor; in the chaos, I even slapped him hard across the face. “You beast! Let go!” Blake Harrison froze, then laughed disdainfully: “You think you’re so capable?” “I’ve played with so many female students—didn’t they all end up obeying me?” He opened the nearby computer, clicking to pull up surveillance footage. He had cameras installed in the office, recording indecent videos of all the girls. He used these videos to threaten and lure them deeper into the abyss, with no way back. I glared at him with red eyes; he didn’t care: “At first, they looked at me with eyes like yours—didn’t they all submit in the end?” “I’ve seen too many girls like you. I advise you to drop that ridiculous pride. In a way, I’m your benefactor.” “You think you got into our company because of what? If not for your… assets… would I hire you?” Blake Harrison eyed my disheveled, exposed state greedily: “If you don’t use your strengths to serve us, what will you do later—get played by others anyway!” “Look now—using your body to work—isn’t that a respectable job?” “And aren’t you all coming to me willingly?” I shivered uncontrollably, not expecting Blake Harrison to be this perverted—this was a full criminal chain. And our bodies were the merchandise on display… I couldn’t help touching the star pendant hiding the recorder, my temples throbbing. Blake Harrison suddenly narrowed his eyes, glancing at the pendant in my hand: “Speaking of which, you remind me of a previous girl—not sure how…” He rubbed his chin, saying casually: “Too bad she wasn’t obedient—didn’t get to play enough before she died, hahahaha…” His cruel lips curled high, his ugly face twisting before me. I felt like falling into an ice pit. Mia… Mia didn’t commit suicide… He sneered, tossing a black card on the floor: “This Saturday night, 8 PM, Room 802. Don’t be late—this is your first ‘client.’”

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Seraphina Vance had found the perfect excuse to legitimize her blatant infidelity. Before we got married, I signed a non-disclosure agreement, which meant I could only be her secret husband. If I initiated the divorce, I’d walk away with a measly $9.9. For three years, I watched her shamelessly flaunt her staged romance with her so-called colleague, Caleb Reed. They traveled together, made public appearances, and even checked into the same hotel. All while I, her supposed “understanding partner,” was left to care for her ailing parents and act as her personal assistant, handling every single one of her affairs. I had no idea when her “work” would end until Caleb called her late one night, his voice thick with complaint. His fans were hounding them to get married, demanding to know when she’d finally make their relationship official. “Darling,” Seraphina cooed softly into the phone, “I’ll give you a perfect wedding soon, okay?” The cold night air blowing in from the balcony carried Seraphina’s hushed whispers. Hearing her answer, my body, nestled in the sheets, went rigid. My throat constricted, and I could barely breathe. On the other end, Caleb persisted, his voice low and melancholic. “Seraphina, everyone’s expecting us to get married. I can’t wait. Let’s do it soon.” Seraphina stood on the balcony, her profile appearing exceptionally tender in the dim light. She soothingly reassured him, “Don’t rush, I won’t let you down.” It was clear that even when disturbed late at night, she was more than happy to coddle her rumored boyfriend. Seraphina returned to the bedroom, a faint smile still lingering in the corners of her eyes. But the moment she saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, her expression hardened. “Julian, it’s the middle of the night. Why are you sitting here trying to scare me instead of sleeping?” I swallowed the dull ache in my chest and met her gaze. “And how does it feel for you to be up in the middle of the night, sweet-talking your lover?” “Lover? What are you talking about?” Seraphina frowned, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “Can you stop being so crude? Caleb and I are just work partners. Isn’t it a bit much to label him like that?” Watching her righteous indignation, my voice involuntarily tightened. “Me, too much? What ‘work partners’ in this industry plan a wedding together?” Seraphina stumbled over her words for a second, then looked away. “You heard all that?” She nervously rubbed her nose. “I couldn’t help it. The fans were practically demanding it. Caleb and I have too much attention as a screen couple. If we don’t see this act through, how can I justify his cooperation these past three years?” “Justify his cooperation?” A searing, numbing pain shot through my heart, and my body trembled uncontrollably. Three years of marriage. I watched the entire world believe she and Caleb were a match made in heaven, saw them interact sweetly on camera, flaunting their affection as if no one else existed. As Seraphina’s legitimate husband, I was hidden away like a shadow, banished from the light. Yet, all these years, Seraphina had never shown me a shred of guilt. She actually felt she owed Caleb. So what did my years of silent endurance and sacrifice count for? “Julian, you know how it is. You have to commit to the role. For the sake of publicity and career benefits, can you just bear with it a little longer? This is my job.” Seraphina was an A-list actress. Every time, she’d spout some high-minded BS, making it sound like she and Caleb were just professional colleagues. If my friend hadn’t personally seen them embracing as they entered a private hotel last week, I probably would have still believed everything she did was “just for work.” But now, her “work” had escalated to planning a global sensation of a wedding with Caleb. And when she and I got married, we didn’t even have the simplest ceremony. I suppressed the bitter churning in my stomach, my voice hoarse. “Seraphina, Caleb is just a colleague, yet you’re planning a lavish, public wedding for him. What about me? Your legal partner? Have you ever given me any kind of ceremony?” When we got married, Seraphina was just a struggling actress. She thought a rich kid like me was just playing around and always treated me with cold indifference. I voluntarily signed a prenuptial agreement, agreeing to only $9.9 if we divorced. I even gave up inheriting my family business to be her assistant. For the sake of her career, we didn’t even have a wedding. She once promised me that once she made it big, she’d give me a grand wedding. Later, she shot to stardom, but never mentioned the wedding again. I’d subtly brought it up, suggesting even a simple dinner with our families would be enough. But she’d always brush me off with “work is too busy, we’ll talk later.” Now, for a grand, extravagant wedding, Caleb just made a phone call, and she agreed without hesitation. Seraphina probably thought I was being unreasonable. She grew impatient, her tone sharp with frustration. “Julian, I’ve explained it countless times. Why can’t you just understand me?” “Caleb and I have such high public visibility as a couple. I can’t let all that effort go to waste.” “Can’t you just wait a little longer?” I didn’t say anything else. The night stretched long, the wind outside cold and fierce. Watching Seraphina’s irritated expression, a profound weariness washed over me. I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Julian, Caleb and I have talked it over. After the wedding’s public attention dies down, we’ll announce our ‘breakup.’ In a year at most, I’ll tell everyone that you’re my real partner.” “Everything I’m doing now is for our better future, don’t you see?” Seraphina probably sensed my mood was off and tried to salvage things. But I just found it utterly absurd. I was her rightful partner, yet I was hiding in the shadows, waiting for my wife to grant me official recognition. For her colleague, Caleb, Seraphina always went out of her way to ensure he was treated with the utmost respect. When she and Caleb first started pretending to be a couple for publicity, he was a newcomer working with the famous actress, and many fans couldn’t accept it, attacking him online. Seraphina then made a classic public defense, taking everyone who insulted Caleb to court. At a gala dinner, reporters pressed them about their relationship. Seraphina just smiled, then turned and kissed Caleb under a flurry of flashbulbs. The entire venue erupted. And I, as her assistant, watched from below as my own wife kissed another man. Later, Seraphina explained to me that it was “just a script” arranged by the company. But similar “scripts” kept piling up. They were inseparable in public, always together. Even at private gatherings with mutual friends, she stopped bringing me along. Gradually, even our shared friends started to think Seraphina and Caleb were the perfect match. I felt wronged and pained, but Seraphina would always tell me not to care about other people’s opinions, emphasizing that I was her legal partner. “Julian, I know you’ve endured a lot of hardship with me these past few years. I don’t want it to be like this either.” “Darling, please don’t be angry, okay?” Seeing my silence, Seraphina slowly moved closer, intending to kiss my forehead. She gazed at me deeply, as if in that moment, only I existed in her eyes. Many times before, I had been swayed by those soulful eyes, softening my resolve again and again, continuing to endure. I’d forgotten she was an actress; she could look deeply into anyone’s eyes. “I’m tired. Let’s just sleep.” As she leaned in, I turned my back to lie down. Seraphina raised an eyebrow, a little surprised, then lay down herself, wrapping an arm around me. The simple ring on my ring finger lightly brushed against the one on her hand, making a faint click in the darkness. The sound vanished as quickly as it appeared. I lay in the dark, lost in thought. When I met Seraphina, I was scouting film projects for my company at a studio lot. She was an extra, only getting roles as a corpse or a stunt double who got beaten up. Once, Seraphina offended an assistant director and was deliberately tormented, filming a beating scene twenty times. When I found her, she was sitting alone in the shadows, covered in bruises, looking so lonely and pathetic. I brought her home, meticulously cared for her, and used my connections to help her get opportunities. But at first, Seraphina always thought I, a rich kid, was just temporarily amused, and she never gave me a kind look. Until one time, to help her secure a role with lines, I endured severe stomach pain and drank too much, eventually passing out at the dinner table. When I woke up, Seraphina was by my bedside, her eyes red, her body still trembling with fright. “Julian, when I saw you in the hospital, I suddenly got so scared…” I was a bit helpless. “Scared of what?” “Scared of you leaving me.” After saying that, Seraphina paused, then seemed to understand something. She lifted her deep, captivating eyes and said earnestly, “Julian, I think… I’ve fallen in love with you.” From then on, she became incredibly attentive to me, working tirelessly on her acting. And I voluntarily stepped away from my family business, becoming her personal assistant, handling all her complicated affairs. Soon after, Seraphina proposed to me. She saved money for six months to buy me a branded ring. Though it had no diamond, I, submerged in love, was deeply touched. I wore that ring close to me for three years until I passed by that brand’s store one day. On a whim, I went in to inquire, only to be told by the sales clerk that the ring I was wearing was a fake, not even a decent replica. Meanwhile, Caleb? Over these three years, Seraphina had personally bought him countless designer gifts, their value immeasurable. And me? All I had was this fake ring. The memories faded, and I felt a wave of nausea, instinctively wanting to remove the ridiculous ring on my ring finger. The moment I stirred, Seraphina seemed to sense it and held me even tighter. “Don’t move,” she mumbled groggily. “Caleb…” A sharp pain seized my chest, and I curled up in agony. Even though the person beside me breathed warmly, I felt only a chilling coldness, so cold that my heart went numb, almost suffocating.

The moment I woke up the next morning, Seraphina called. “Remember to go to the nursing home to see my parents today. Don’t skip it just because you’re angry.” Seraphina prided herself on being filial. Even though her parents lived in the best nursing home, her pronouncement, “Children should personally care for their parents,” had me looking after my in-laws for three full years. Meanwhile, I barely saw my own parents once a year. “Yeah, got it.” I numbly replied, hung up the phone, and drove alone to the nursing home. “Oh, sweetie, look how wonderful Caleb is! He’s going to be our son-in-law!” My mother-in-law was proudly telling the nurse, pointing at Caleb on the TV, as I walked into the room carrying a pot of freshly made soup. The nurse’s eyes lit up. “Are they really getting married?” “Of course!” my in-laws said in unison. My steps faltered, and a familiar sharp pain pierced my chest. I suppressed the bitterness in my throat and softly spoke. “Mom, Dad.” As soon as they heard my voice, my in-laws’ faces immediately soured. The nurse looked at me, a bit confused. “And this gentleman who comes every day is…?” “He’s our godson!” my mother-in-law quickly interjected. The nurse suddenly understood, a look of envy on her face as she left. “Sir, I’m so envious you get to be Seraphina’s brother. How lucky!” I forced a smile, but it wouldn’t reach my eyes. The moment the door closed, my mother-in-law’s voice turned shrill. “Julian, why didn’t you tell us you were coming? You want to scare two old people to death?” I managed a strained smile. “Mom, Dad, you seemed to be enjoying your conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt.” “I made you some soup today. Please try it.” As soon as the soup was handed to them, my father-in-law sniffed it and slammed the bowl on the floor. The hot soup splattered on my hand, making me wince in pain, but they just said, “What kind of soup is this? It’s so greasy! Julian, you can’t even cook properly anymore. What good are you?” “I’ll make it again next time,” I said, enduring the pain as I cleaned up the mess on the floor. A profound sense of powerlessness swept over me. Suddenly, I felt that three years of unwavering care had all been in vain. After massaging my in-laws, I prepared to leave, but couldn’t resist asking one last question, holding onto a final sliver of hope to gauge their attitude. “Mom, Dad, do you know? Seraphina is going to have a wedding with Caleb.” I said, trying to sound calm. “Really?!” As soon as the words left my mouth, my in-laws cheered excitedly. “That’s wonderful!” Though I had anticipated it, my heart still sank. “But… I’m her husband…” “Don’t be ungrateful!” My father-in-law frowned and sneered. “We never agreed to you two being together in the first place. You’ve bled Seraphina dry enough over the years. You should know when to quit and stop clinging to her,” my mother-in-law snapped, her face darkening with impatience. Bleed her dry? Even though I knew my in-laws were always harsh, hearing those words firsthand made my body involuntarily tense up. In three years of marriage, I had never asked Seraphina for a single dime, nor had she spent any money on me. Most of our daily expenses were covered by me. I cared for my in-laws relentlessly, managed everything for Seraphina, and in the end, I was branded a “vampire.” At this point, I understood where Seraphina’s coldness and selfishness came from — it was a family trait. Three years of genuine affection had moved neither my in-laws nor Seraphina. My in-laws continued to chatter, even ordering me to empty their bedpan. I numbly turned around, ignoring their curses and walked out without looking back. Walking out of the nursing home, I looked at the distant sunlight gradually dispelling the gloom, took a deep breath, and dialed a number. “Hello, Dad, are you free right now?” “…I’ve made my decision.”

When I got home, the living room lights were already on. Seraphina sat on the couch, her face contorted with fury. I was about to speak, but she suddenly stood up, rushed towards me, and yelled, “Julian, what the hell is wrong with you?! I already swallowed my pride, and you actually went to my parents’ place to give them attitude?!” Seeing the identical smugness on all their faces, I sneered. “I made soup for your parents, and they knocked it over without even tasting it. The nursing home has plenty of caregivers, but they insisted I take care of them personally.” “As Seraphina’s husband, I’m treated worse than a servant.” Seraphina frowned impatiently. “My parents are old, it’s normal for them to be emotional. There are many caregivers, but they trust you more. They’re treating you like family by asking you to do it.” Hearing that, I just felt sick. “They trust you the most, so why don’t you personally empty their bedpans?” In three years, apart from sending her parents money, she had barely visited the nursing home, always claiming to be too busy with work. In reality, she just found her incontinent parents disgusting. She pushed everything she didn’t want to do onto me. Because I once loved Seraphina so deeply, I willingly endured it all. My self-sacrifice, in their eyes, was simply expected. “Julian, how dare you speak to me like that!?” Seraphina, stung by my words, angrily flipped over the coffee table in front of her. I couldn’t dodge in time, and the scalding hot water, just boiled, splashed all over my hand. A huge blister immediately swelled on the back of my hand. The burning agony spread from my skin through my entire body. My vision blurred, and I broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. “Now do you know how to talk to me?” Seraphina looked pleased, advancing toward me step by step. “You only calm down when I throw a fit. As my husband, why can’t you be more like Caleb, gentle and considerate, instead of constantly talking back to me?” It’s like three words out of four from her family were about Caleb. I stood up, enduring the pain, and sneered. “If you think Caleb is so great, then marry him!” “Julian!” Seraphina hadn’t expected me to talk back again. Her eyes turned red with rage as she threatened, “If you dare talk back to me again, I’ll divorce you!” That was exactly what I was waiting for. I met her angry gaze, my voice firm. “Fine! Let’s get divorced then!” Seraphina was uncharacteristically stunned. After several seconds, she slowly raised her eyes, an expression of disbelief on her face. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” But Seraphina’s emotions were unusually agitated. “Julian, are you insane?” I scoffed. “Perhaps only an insane person could tolerate their wife publicly dating someone else and even planning a grand wedding.” Seraphina’s voice trembled. “If you initiate the divorce, you’ll only get $9.9 in compensation.” Because of that paltry $9.9 compensation, Seraphina had never worried that I would leave her. I unhesitatingly pulled out my payment QR code. “Transfer me the $9.9. Let’s divorce immediately. And I’ll even give you an extra gift!” As soon as I finished speaking, Seraphina’s face instantly turned ashen.

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I have aphasia. My parents, ashamed of my inability to speak, pressured me into marrying Aria, my brother Brandon’s vegetative fiancée, to save him from a difficult situation. For three years, I devoted myself to her care. Miraculously, Aria awoke. But the first thing she did was demand a divorce. She believed Brandon was the one who had cared for her all these years, declaring that she would marry no one but him. Later, I overheard her best friend trying to explain that I was the one who had taken care of her for three years. Aria just laughed nonchalantly. “I already knew,” she said. “But my husband can’t be a mute.” My heart shattered completely. I sought a hypnotist to erase my memories and treat my aphasia. When I woke up, I gazed at the woman by my hospital bed and asked, confused, “Who are you?” The woman’s face instantly paled with panic… Aria had been in a coma for three years. The first person she saw upon waking was me, but her eyes were filled with disappointment. I didn’t notice the sorrow in her gaze, my heart swelling with joy as I helped her sit up. I immediately shared the good news in our group chat. Soon, the hospital room was packed with people. And I, her husband who had cared for Aria for three years, was pushed into a corner, utterly ignored. Brandon arrived late, dressed in a sharp blue suit, looking as if he’d just come from a party. Aria immediately clutched Brandon’s hand, her eyes rimmed red. “Honey,” she whispered, “you’ve worked so hard these past three years.” At her words, everyone in the room froze. The very air seemed to solidify. I stood awkwardly to the side, unable to utter a single word to defend myself. All because I suffered from aphasia. Her friend, sensing the tension, spoke up hesitantly. “Aria, Leo is your husband.” Aria’s brow furrowed instantly, her gaze turning icy as she looked at me, as if I had somehow intruded upon her relationship with Brandon. I had always known Brandon was the one she loved. They were supposed to marry, but a car accident left her in a vegetative state. Brandon, unwilling to endure the hardship, ran to our parents, crying. When I heard it was Aria, I agreed to their plea to marry her in Brandon’s place. I never imagined that three years of my devoted care would lead to this. I quickly grabbed my phone, ready to type out an explanation, but Brandon slammed his hand down on my device. “Leo, Aria just woke up. She probably can’t process so much information at once. You should step out for a bit.” The others in the room, sensing the strained atmosphere, quickly found excuses to leave. The moment the door closed, Brandon tearfully embraced Aria, as if he had suffered some monumental injustice. “Aria, you’re finally awake. I’ve waited for you for three years…” My heart lurched violently, and my hand gripping the doorknob trembled slightly. I don’t know how much time passed before Brandon opened the hospital room door, a few clear tears still clinging to his eyelashes. I walked into the room, filled with a sense of dread, just as a glass vase shattered at my feet. “Leo, you certainly went to great lengths to marry me!” “You’re disgusting, using such underhanded tactics!” Splintered glass shards cut my calf, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Aria and I had grown up together. She was the only one who didn’t dismiss me for my aphasia, the only one who encouraged me to seek treatment. But after she met Brandon, she was drawn to him. The girl who once promised to marry me, her heart slowly drifted away. Now, she saw me as a despicable intruder in their relationship. I anxiously gestured in sign language, then remembered she couldn’t understand, and shakily picked up my phone, trying to type an explanation. Brandon smirked, then raised his hand and swatted my phone, sending it crashing to the floor, where its screen immediately went dark. “Leo, please, just let us be together!” I stood there, stunned. Besides sign language, my phone was my only means of communication. And now, I couldn’t even defend myself. I shook my head desperately, but this world was cruel, and even more so to someone who couldn’t speak.

My parents, who had somehow heard the news, rushed to the hospital. Hope flickered within me. I stopped them, gesturing wildly in sign language, pleading with them to explain for me. They could barely understand some simple signs. My mother nodded gently, but my father simply pushed me aside, pulling my mother into the room. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, my mother hesitantly began, “Leo, he…” Brandon, realizing what she was about to say, cut her off. “Mom, Leo just loves Aria too much. Don’t blame him.” My eyes widened in disbelief. I grabbed Brandon, signing furiously: You’re lying! You’re lying! He rubbed his wrist, clinging tightly to Aria, putting on a pitiful act. “I’m sorry, Leo. Don’t be angry, I won’t say any more.” I desperately signed towards my mother, my vision blurring: Tell her the truth! It’s not like this! My mother avoided my gaze. A wave of helplessness washed over me. Not a single day in the three years I’d cared for Aria felt as desperate as this one. My father’s face darkened. “Didn’t you force Brandon to step aside? You said Aria wouldn’t know anyway.” If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed my own father could so shamelessly twist the truth. His words were like needles piercing my heart. It was Brandon who had scorned Aria, deeming her a “lost cause” and refusing to marry her. That’s when my parents had made me take his place. Aria scoffed. “Leo, it’s a good thing I woke up. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have rested in peace even in death.” I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth. So this was how pathetic I was in her eyes. My mother pulled me out of the room, her face full of apologies. “Don’t blame your father. We owe Brandon this.” Brandon’s parents had died saving mine, so my parents took him in and treated him like their own son. My parents felt indebted, so I had to give in to him on everything. If I ever refused, Brandon would cry and say, “If only my mom and dad were here.” When I developed aphasia, a time when I desperately needed companionship, Brandon convinced my parents to take him on an international trip. Three years ago, Brandon’s mocking words still echoed in my ears: “A mute and a vegetable, how perfectly matched!” My mother continued, “Now that Aria’s awake, she’s so proud, she’ll divorce you eventually. “Leaving a good impression now will only elevate Brandon’s standing in her heart, won’t it?” Tears splattered on the ground. I pounded my chest, trying to relieve the pain gripping my heart. But they owed Brandon’s parents, why did I have to pay the price? Aria moved quickly. She decided to divorce me in the morning and had the papers drawn up by the afternoon. Afraid I would cause trouble, she hired several bodyguards to watch me as I signed. I let out a bitter laugh and slowly wrote my name. Aria had saved my life once, and I had protected her for three years. Now, we were even.

The evening autumn breeze carried a hint of chill. After my phone was repaired, the first thing I did was text Dr. Hayes: I’d like to try the hypnosis therapy you mentioned last time. Dr. Hayes quickly replied: You will lose some memories after hypnosis. And we’ll need a family member to sign a consent form, ensuring someone can care for you during recovery. My gaze fell on the words “family member,” and a bitter smile touched my lips. I couldn’t even think of anyone who could sign for me. I scrolled through SnapChat endlessly, my finger hovering over one contact, hesitant to tap it. Unexpectedly, the avatar suddenly vibrated, and a message popped up: I’m back in the country today. Can we grab dinner? I quickly replied, setting a time and place. I stared out the window, my thoughts drifting far away. Maya was my sign language teacher’s daughter. Because I often went to her house for lessons, we naturally grew close. Three years ago, when she learned I was marrying a vegetative woman, she angrily smashed the birthday gift she planned to give me, saying it was a waste for her mother to teach me sign language. I signed back, spewing harsh words. Then she went to study abroad, and I thought we would never meet again. I never expected her to return. After several years, she had matured considerably. When she wasn’t smiling, an aura of “do not approach” radiated from her. I got straight to the point, signing my question: Can you… pretend to be my family and sign for me? Her expression stiffened. After hearing the full story, her hands clenched tightly, as if she was struggling to suppress something. “Are you sure about this?” I nodded gently. What use were those memories to me anyway? And once they were gone, I could speak again. “Okay.” It was evening when I returned to Aria’s house. My belongings were casually strewn in the villa’s hallway. Aria glanced at me indifferently. “Leo, don’t say I’m not being lenient. From now on, you’ll move into the guest room.” I nodded softly. She hadn’t expected me to be so calm and eyed me up and down. I would forget her soon anyway. What did it matter where I lived? Suddenly, a small dog, Cupcake, ran out from inside the house. My body tensed, and I instinctively grabbed Aria’s arm. She frowned in displeasure and harshly flung my hand away. “Leo, know your place.” Her strength was considerable. I wasn’t prepared and instantly tumbled to the floor, my wrist screaming in pain. I had been afraid of dogs since childhood, and the girl who once promised to protect me for life had now let go of my hand. A flicker of regret crossed her eyes, and she reached out to pull me up. I pretended not to see, and endured the pain as I pushed myself to my feet. Brandon emerged from the room and took Aria’s hand. “Cupcake doesn’t like being confined. Let’s move her to a bigger room.” Aria looked at him dotingly. “Okay, we’ll give Cupcake the guest room we just cleaned up. “Leo, you can move to the basement.” How ridiculous. In her eyes, I was worth less than their adopted stray dog. As I packed my things, I suddenly caught a strange scent. Following the smell, I found a large yellow stain on a red coat. This coat was a birthday gift from Aria. Because my birthday fell on the same day as Brandon’s parents’ memorial, my parents never allowed me to celebrate. Aria had secretly given me the coat, looking at me earnestly as she said, “Leo, I’ll spend every birthday with you from now on.” Promises, it seemed, only held true when love was present. I treasured this coat, never daring to wear it. It seemed I never would.

When Aria saw the coat, a hint of emotion stirred within her, and she instructed the butler to take it for dry cleaning. But I simply tossed the coat into the trash, along with all the photos Aria and I had taken over the years. In the future, I wanted nothing to do with her. Aria stared at me and slowly spoke, “Brandon is kind-hearted for adopting Cupcake. If you dare make him sad, I won’t let you off easy.” It was utterly absurd, almost laughable. It seemed Aria had completely forgotten my fear of dogs. Perhaps Aria had given instructions, as not a single servant offered to help me. I endured the pain in my wrist and tidied up until evening, finally clearing away everything related to Aria. This was the first time I had stayed at home in three years. After Aria became a vegetable, I practically lived at the hospital. At first, people visited, but eventually, the Jiang family gave up on her. Most of the time, it was just her and me in the room. I was just starting to drift off to sleep when a bucket of cold water doused me awake. Aria looked down at me. “Leo, you’re getting lazier and lazier.” “You’re not the master of this house anymore. How dare you sleep in?” My head felt a bit hazy. I simply nodded to indicate I understood. I wiped the water from my face and got up to change. The villa servants were bustling about. The butler glanced at me and instructed me to polish the piano. It was only then that I remembered it was Brandon’s birthday. My fingers glided over the keys, and a beautiful melody poured out. Aria once said these hands were made for playing the piano. Yet now, they were used for polishing it. A self-deprecating smile touched my lips. Sweet words were only true at the moment they were spoken. Halfway through, I received a message from Dr. Hayes: Tomorrow morning at ten. I quickly replied with “Okay” and forwarded the message to Maya. Just the thought of being able to speak again lifted my spirits considerably. I thought this party had nothing to do with me, but then Aria pulled me into the dressing room. I took the gown she handed me, a little surprised. Her face was full of impatience. “Hurry and change. If you don’t attend, what will people say about Brandon?” It turned out she was only afraid of people talking about Brandon. I felt the large stains on the gown, my heart long numb. I remembered an hour ago, Brandon’s social media post with a photo: No worries if the outfit gets dirty, Aria will prepare two for me. Brandon stood by the cake, like an elegant prince, while I felt like a clown for their amusement. I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, sitting in a corner. But the whispers still reached my ears. “What’s on his clothes? So disgusting!” “He’s shameless, stealing Brandon’s fiancée.” “I heard he’s a mute.” The mockery was relentless. I clutched the hem of my clothes tightly. Brandon sat down at the piano, the spotlight illuminating him. All eyes were drawn to him. The music suddenly stopped. He cried out in alarm, “It hurts! How are there razor blades in the piano!” The butler pointed to me in the corner. “Only Mr. Leo touched the piano!” Aria glared at me, roughly dragging me to the piano. She slammed my hands onto the keys, and excruciating pain shot through my fingers, making it almost impossible to breathe. “Leo, this is the price for your mistakes.” Without another word, she disregarded my bleeding hands, picked up Brandon, and walked out the door. I clearly saw Brandon flash me a triumphant smile. Later, an ambulance took me to the hospital, but all the doctors there had been called to consult on Brandon’s case. Before I passed out from blood loss, I heard a nurse shout angrily, “If his hands don’t get immediate treatment, he’ll be permanently disabled!” Tears streamed down my face. I wished I had never met Aria. Meanwhile, a doctor recognized Aria and greeted her warmly. “How is your husband? He took care of you for three years; it’s about time his hardships ended.”

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I was just pulled back from the brink of death. Before I could remember my own name, I became my sister’s blood bank. The man who dragged me from my hospital bed to drain my blood was the one who hated me most. My husband. Julian Vance. Amelia’s POV The sharp sting of antiseptic dragged me back to the land of the living. I blinked up at a blank, white ceiling. My left wrist was a clumsy bundle of bandages. I had no memory. My mind was a clean slate, wiped. Nothing remained. The door flew open. A middle-aged couple stood there, their expressions not of relief, but of profound irritation. “Creating another scene, Amelia? Have you no shame left?” The man sounded furious. The woman’s was a razor. “We never should have fetched you from that backwater village. If our Chloe had an ounce of your dramatics, she’d never let herself be victimized!” From their unveiled contempt, the outline of my life began to form. My name is Amelia. The Dawson family’s long-lost biological daughter. But in this house, I ranked far beneath the cherished adopted one, Chloe. I also had a husband, Julian. Three years ago, an incident led to me becoming his wife. It also made me the most unwelcome and inconvenient person in his eyes. Because his heart had always belonged to Chloe, never me. My father continued his cold sneer. “Stop using these tactics in the future. When have you ever succeeded? Even if something really happened, Julian wouldn’t spare you a glance.” My mother’s face was full of disdain. “I really don’t know what part of you, besides your bloodline, resembles a Dawson.” “Let’s go. Chloe needs us.” They turned and left, never once looking back at me. I lowered my head, touching the bandages on my wrist, and gave a self-deprecating laugh. Even with amnesia, it didn’t mean I couldn’t feel pain. I could only imagine how many times the past me had endured such neglect. My parents didn’t love me, and my husband didn’t love me either. I was superfluous. The next day, I discharged myself. As I stood by the hospital entrance in thin clothes, a black luxury car pulled up in front of me. The door opened, and Julian stepped out. He held a petite woman in his arms, his gaze incredibly tender as he looked down at her. His usually stern features softened. Whispers of curiosity and gasps of envy rippled through the onlookers. “Isn’t that Julian? Who’s the woman he’s holding?” “He’s so handsome! Finally seeing him in person today. I’m so jealous of the woman in his arms, being cherished like that. I’d die on the spot.” He rushed into the ER with her, brushing past me without a glance. I wasn’t even a blur in his periphery. Only then did it hit me. He was my husband. My husband in the eyes of the law. A bitter laugh escaped me. My husband wasn’t here to pick me up from the hospital, but he was accompanying another woman to the emergency room. Just as I turned to leave, hurried footsteps echoed behind me. Julian had returned, grabbing my wrist with a force that felt like it would shatter my bones. “Chloe is injured and needs a blood transfusion urgently.” He stared at me, his tone an undeniable command. “You have RH-negative blood. Come with me for a blood draw.” He roughly dragged me forward. I didn’t struggle, just looked at him calmly. My gaze seemed to irritate him. He impatiently unclasped his watch from his wrist, shoving it into my cold palm. He clearly expected tears or demands. “Here. Now leave.” His posture was like dismissing an object. I clutched the watch, a faint, almost imperceptible cold smile playing on my lips. “Not enough?” He frowned in displeasure. “Amelia, don’t be greedy.” I tucked the watch away, replying blandly. “How could it not be enough? Such an expensive watch is more than enough for a hundred blood draws.” He seemed to sense something was off, but only frowned, eventually saying nothing. In the blood draw room, the needle pierced my skin. Through the glass, I watched him by Chloe’s bedside, gently tucking her blanket in. The nurses’ hushed whispers drifted into my ears. “It’s her again. Mrs. Vance.” Their low voices carried. “Jumping off buildings, cutting her wrists. She just tried to get Mr. Vance’s attention.” “What’s the point? Mr. Vance only cares about Chloe. She’s just humiliating herself.” Their words stung like needles. So, this was how pathetic my past self had been. Amnesia, perhaps, was a blessing. Four hundred milliliters of blood later, my face was pale. I leaned against the wall and walked up to Julian. “Where do we live?” I asked. Julian’s face was full of mockery. “What, another trick of running away from home so I’ll go looking for you?” “I forgot, I really forgot.” I smiled faintly. “After all, I’ve lost so much blood, my brain isn’t working right.” He waved his hand impatiently. “I’ll have the driver take you back.” “Thank you.” I turned to leave, then paused, looking at him. “Are you coming home for dinner tonight? To celebrate my discharge.” “Celebrate?” His face instantly darkened. “Chloe is still in there. What’s there to celebrate? Are you that heartless?” “If you’re not coming back, fine.” My tone was calm. “I had a gift for you.” “Stop with these attempts to curry favor. I don’t need them.” He cut me off, turning to stride quickly towards Chloe. Did he really not need it? I lowered my head and smiled. He would need this “gift.” I pulled out my phone, found Mr. Henderson the lawyer’s name in my contacts, and called. “Mr. Henderson, please prepare two documents for me.” “One divorce agreement.” “And a parental rights termination statement.”

Amelia’s POV Mr. Henderson noted down my requests over the phone. After hanging up, the Vance family car arrived. I opened the car door and got in, telling the driver, “To the embassy.” “Yes, ma’am.” The driver paused, but was wise enough not to ask questions, turning the car around immediately. During my two days in the hospital, I had already scheduled my visa application appointment. All the documents were prepared, and the process was surprisingly smooth. I expected to receive it in about two weeks. Back in the car, I instructed the driver, “Don’t tell Julian about today.” The driver’s hands paused on the steering wheel, then he said softly, “Mr. Vance… he doesn’t like us mentioning you in front of him.” So, his aversion to me was so deep that he didn’t even want to hear my name. I simply hummed in acknowledgment. That was fine. It would make leaving even easier, with no strings attached. The car stopped in front of an imposing villa. This was where I had lived for three years. A huge wedding photo hung in the foyer. In the picture, my eyes were filled with love as I looked up at the man beside me. Julian, however, wore a cold expression, like an unapproachable iceberg. The stark contrast made me, the “mistress of the house,” feel incredibly superfluous. Back in the bedroom, I found an old phone tucked deep in a drawer. It contained only one encrypted memo app. It chronicled the past three years, detailing how I had been repeatedly neglected, ignored, and hurt by him. “March 7th. I brought him lunch; he said he wasn’t hungry. But then he took Chloe to a fancy French restaurant.” “May 20th. He claimed he was in an all-night meeting. Yet, Chloe’s Ins story showed him setting off fireworks for her.” “August 15th. Chloe had a fever. He abandoned me in the ER, sick, to stay by her side all night. I overheard him telling his assistant, ‘Forget her. She won’t die.’” “December 1st. I hurt myself again. Julian, what do I have to do for you to finally look at me?” … Line after line of text, like a dull knife, cut into my heart. I looked down at my wrist. The scars, long healed, now felt as if they were being torn open again, throbbing faintly. I suddenly felt a profound sorrow for my past self. How could anyone love someone so much they completely lost themselves? Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Soon, I raised my hand and wiped them away fiercely. I put the old phone back in the deepest part of the drawer and closed it. As if sealing away that unbearable past. In the mirror, my face was pale but unusually calm. I looked at myself in the mirror and whispered. “It’s okay if no one loves you.” “From now on, you have to love yourself.” For the next two weeks, Julian didn’t come home once. No calls, no messages. It was as if I had never existed in that house. Until a phone call broke the brief silence.

Amelia’s POV On the other end of the line, my mother’s voice was full of unapologetic accusations. “Are you not even planning to show up for Chloe’s birthday party tonight?” Birthday? I was still struggling to remember when she impatiently barked her order. “No matter what your excuse, be there at 7 PM sharp!” With that, the phone was slammed down. I didn’t want to go. But then I thought, I was leaving soon anyway, so there was no need to cause more trouble at the last minute. So, I chose a black dress and had the driver take me to the birthday party venue. The entire venue had been booked out. Julian had specifically rented it for Chloe. When I arrived, the party was at its peak. The center of attention was Julian and Chloe, standing together. Chloe wore a designer pink gown, looking like a meticulously cared-for rose. Julian’s gaze remained fixed on her, never wavering. “I heard Julian personally planned the whole surprise for Chloe. Didn’t sleep for three days, they say.” Amidst the guests’ whispers, I watched Julian half-crouch, willingly adjusting Chloe’s gown. The smile on his face was a tenderness I had never seen before. That scene was like a silent knife. Suddenly, spotlights illuminated the stage. My father announced. “I’ve decided to transfer 60% of my company’s shares entirely to my daughter, Chloe!” The entire room erupted in whispers. The biological daughter gets nothing? The adopted one takes all? Eyes filled with scrutiny, pity, and schadenfreude all turned to me in the corner. But the real shock was yet to come. Julian led Chloe onto the stage, opening a velvet box. Inside was the Vance family heirloom ruby bracelet. “Isn’t that meant for the wife of the Vance family’s eldest grandson?” someone gasped. Julian clasped the ruby bracelet onto Chloe’s wrist. “Julian, this is too precious,” Chloe whispered, covering her mouth, then looked out at the audience timidly. “This should have been Amelia’s.” My mother immediately chimed in. “Amelia has Julian taking care of her, she doesn’t need these things. You’re frail, so it’s only right for you to have it.” Julian’s gaze swept across the room, as cold as ice. “If not for an accident three years ago, Chloe would be standing here by my side today. This bracelet is simply returned to its rightful owner.” That phrase, “returned to its rightful owner,” felt like a slap across my face. The guests’ snickers gnawed at my last shred of dignity like ants. I looked at the picture-perfect family on stage, at Chloe’s triumphant eyes and Julian’s merciless face. Even with amnesia, my heart felt no ripple. No heartache, no sadness, not even anger. I turned and quietly headed for the exit. “Look, Mrs. Vance is crying,” I heard someone whisper behind me. My steps didn’t falter as I walked into the restroom. The face in the mirror had no tears, serene like a deep ocean. It seemed that when a heart died, it truly stopped hurting. These people, these events, were now just an irrelevant past to me. I forced a smile at my reflection. Just a little longer. Once my visa was processed, I could finally leave.

Amelia’s POV I came out of the restroom and turned into a secluded garden balcony for some fresh air. The moment I stepped in, I froze. In the shadows, Julian had Chloe pressed against the wall, engaged in an intense kiss. “Julian… will Amelia be sad…” Chloe whimpered. “I think I saw her crying…” Julian released her, his thumb caressing her swollen lips. “Whether she’s sad or not, what does it have to do with me?” He looked at her, every word deliberate. “Chloe, you’ve always been the only one I love.” My face felt a little wet. I reached up to touch it and found tears. “Maybe my past self is mourning,” I thought. I left expressionlessly. Not long after returning to the ballroom, Chloe rushed over, agitated. “Amelia, the ruby bracelet Julian gave me is gone! Did you take it?” Her eyes were red. “Someone saw you were the only one who went near my seat!” My parents immediately rushed over. “Amelia, did you steal the bracelet?” My father demanded sternly. My mother slapped me hard across the face. “You’re humiliating our family! Hand it over now!” My cheek burned, and I looked at my so-called biological parents, feeling only absurdity. “I didn’t take it,” I defended myself. “Still lying!” My mother ordered the bodyguards, “Search her! Strip her if you have to, just find that necklace!” Two bodyguards roughly grabbed me. In the struggle, my dress ripped open, revealing a bare shoulder. The surrounding guests snickered. Just then, a bodyguard suddenly pulled the bracelet from my purse. “Found it!” Chloe, teary-eyed, took it, her face full of hurt. “Amelia, I know you’re upset. If you really wanted it, all you had to do was ask, why did you have to steal it?” Her words solidified my guilt. Julian slowly approached. He ignored everyone, his gaze a laser fixed on me. When he spoke, his voice was a honed blade, dripping with contempt. “Why steal it?” A sneering, contemptuous curve twisted his lips. “I never considered you my wife, didn’t you know that?” “Things that don’t belong to you, even if you steal them, will never truly be yours.” The ultimate humiliation drowned me. Just when everyone expected me to break down, I suddenly laughed. A soft laugh escaped me, and I watched Julian’s face tighten in response. I lifted my chin, meeting his glacial stare. “I didn’t steal it.” Then, holding his gaze, I poured every ounce of my being into three final words, a public decree for all to hear. “Julian, I don’t love you anymore.” “If I don’t love you, you’re nothing to me. Why would I steal that bracelet?”

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It had been ten years since Damien Thorne bullied me into dropping out. I ran into him at a food truck. He swaggered out of a BMW, arm slung around my ex, Tiffany. Spotting me hunched over a burger by the curb, he sneered. “Look how far our star student has fallen. Eating gutter food even my dog wouldn’t touch? And you’re actually enjoying it?” Tiffany shot me a look of pure disgust. “This is pathetic. Thank God I dumped you!” I kept my head down, eating my burger, saying nothing. Then Damien kicked it flying. “I’m talking to you! Are you deaf, or just stupid?!” He had no idea a single word from me could topple his family’s empire. Dozens of bodyguards in the shadows eased off their safeties. I waved them down with a cold smirk. “That burger was eight bucks. Pay up.” “Or else…” Damien stared at me, then burst into harsh laughter, cutting me off. “Have you lost it, you broke loser? You think you can demand money from me?” “You’re actually threatening me? What, you think you can kill me?” “Or have you forgotten how I used to pin you down and beat you like a dog in high school?” I could, in fact, end him right now. But seeing Damien’s unchanged, arrogant face, my mind snapped back to high school. Back when Tiffany and I were together. Damien had cornered me, saying he wanted her, and ordered me to back off. I refused. The result was a relentless campaign of bullying from Damien. He and his crew would dump trash in my desk, glue my seat shut, and stuff dead rats into my lunchbox. The worst time, they cornered me in the alley behind the school. Damien, a cigarette dangling from his lips, grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall, over and over. I was bedridden in the dorm for three days. And Tiffany, she broke up with me. The very next day, she started dating Damien. Convinced she must have been coerced, I went to ask her why. Instead,she and Damien lured me into a bathroom, shoved my head in a toilet, and gave me a “lesson.” To this day, I remember her words, dripping with contempt. “I only dated you because you were top of the class. I was betting on your potential.” “Then I met Damien. Grades are meaningless. His father is on the School Board. You could never compare. You’re just stepping stone material.” I walked home soaked, spiked a fever that lasted a week, and missed my final exams because of it. The teachers knew. But with Damien’s father on the Board, no one dared lift a finger. Later, I drop out. Never thought I’d run into them here, today. Damien’s laughter roared, drawing attention. A crowd spilled out of the bar next door. All my old high school classmates. They were having a reunion. Clearly, I hadn’t been invited. The moment they saw Damien, they swarmed him. “Damien! We’ve been waiting for you!” “Get in, the drinks are already!” Damien pointed at me, sneering. “Ran into some beggar scrounging for food. Accidentally kicked his burger, and now he wants eight bucks. Pathetic, right?” At his words, they finally turned to look at me. The sycophancy in their eyes for Damien twisted into pure contempt for me. “Our former valedictorian, reduced to begging for eight bucks?” “He must be completely broke!” Even my high school teacher stared at me with disdain. “Liam Carter, it’s just a burger. Damien wouldn’t kick it for no reason. What did you do to provoke him? Always check your own faults first!” It was always like this. Back in high school, every time Damien bullied me, the others just cheered him on. I asked him for help, and he’d always side with Damien without hesitation. “Why would he target you? Always check your own faults first.” Suddenly, a figure pushed through the jeering crowd. It was Benji Miller, my old desk mate. He glanced at me, then at the burger in the dirt, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Liam, you don’t know who Damien is. You shouldn’t be picking a fight.” “Here. Take a few hundred bucks. Let it go. Don’t make things worse for yourself.” Benji pulled out the only few hundred bucks from his faded jeans and offered them to me. I was moved. Benji had been the closest thing I had to a friend in high school. The only one who ever spoke up for me when Damien bullied me. His life wasn’t easy now. But his concern was still genuine. I pushed his hand away. “Keep it. This won’t be a problem for me.” Benji looked anxious, ready to insist, but Damien shoved him aside roughly. “Playing a hero, Benji?” “YIou should spend that on cigarettes for us, not this loser. Might earn you some favors later.” He snatched the cash from Benji’s hand and tossed it to his ever-present sycophants. They caught it, smirking. “Yeah, giving it to Liam is a total waste!” “Buy our goodwill instead. Fall on hard times, and you can be our dog. We’ll even toss you a bone.” Benji clenched his fists but stayed silent. Damien turned his full attention back to me. “Liam, aren’t you desperate enough to beg for eight bucks?” “Tell you what. For old times’ sake, I’ll give you a way to earn it.” “Get on your knees and lick those burger crumbs off the pavement. I’ll not only pay your eight bucks, I’ll give you eight hundred. Sound good?”

His words sent the crowd roaring. Tiffany leaned on Damien’s shoulder with a wicked grin. “Oh, Damien, you’re too good. Letting this bum have a full meal and earn some cash!” Others joined in. “Liam, Damien’s handing you a golden ticket. Aren’t you grateful?” Even the teacher scoffed at me. “Liam, aren’t you going to thank him?” I stood there, quietly watching the whole scene. Ten years had passed. Nothing had changed. “Since you all think it’s such a golden opportunity…” “Why don’t you eat it.” My words killed the laughter instantly. Damien’s face hardened, his eyes bulging. “What did you say? I’m giving you a handout, and you refuse?” The others chimed in, jeering. “Trying to act tough, is he? Pathetic. Pride is all the poor have left.” The teacher shook his head with a theatrical sigh. “Hopeless ten years ago. Hopeless now.” Damien slowly lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and blew the smoke directly into my face. “Liam. You still don’t get it, do you.” He tapped the asphalt with his shoe. “This whole block? Belongs to the Thornes.” Then he gestured to the the skyscraper across the street. “That office tower? Ours too.” As he spoke, he jabbed the burning ember of his cigarette toward my chest. “And you? You’re just a beggar, surviving on my family’s goodwill.” “Understand?” Watching his performance, I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Seeing me smile, Damien’s brow furrowed. “You think I’m joking?” I looked at him calmly, like he was nothing more than a barking dog. “This street might be yours, Damien, but you don’t own what’s right.” “I’m giving you one last chance. Give me and Benji our money back.” A muscle twitched in Damien’s face. Then he burst into an even more exaggerated fit of laughter. “Did you hear that? He’s giving me one last chance!” “That’s the funniest damn joke I’ve heard all year.” The surrounding classmates immediately joined in with scornful laughter. Tiffany looked at me like I was a clown. “Liam, are you broke and stupid?” “You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the world the Thorne family moves in.” “Still picking a fight? Do you have a death wish?” The others watched, contempt in their eyes. “One last chance? What can he even do if Damien doesn’t give him money?” “What can a poor guy like him do? Just cry to Damien! Hahahaha!” “Damien, you should really teach him a lesson, let this loser know his place!” Only Benji, seemingly afraid Damien would actually hurt me, rushed forward and pleaded with Damien. “Damien, Liam’s just hot-headed. Don’t take it personally.” “My money can be for the guys’ cigarettes. Let’s just drop this, Liam’s had it rough…” Before he could finish, Damien grabbed Benji by the collar. “You useless idiot, you always stuck up for him in high school, it’s annoying!” With that, Damien raised his fist and swung it at Benji. I reached out and caught Damien’s wrist. He froze, then slowly turned his head toward me. “What? Think you can teach me a lesson?” He leaned in until his face was inches from mine, then tapped his own cheek mockingly. “Go on. Hit me!” “Let’s see if a loser like you even has the-” SMACK! Before he could finish, I landed a sharp slap directly across his face.

The crisp sound of the slap echoed loudly in the night street. For a moment, everyone stared at me in disbelief. Damien stood frozen in place, a clear five-finger imprint rapidly appearing on his face. He clutched his cheek, glaring at me in utter disbelief, grinding his teeth. “Liam Carter! You dared to hit me?!” I clapped my hands, my voice flat. “Didn’t you tell me to?” Tiffany steadied Damien, her eyes narrowing at me viciously. “Liam, are you crazy?! Are you trying to die?!” Only Benji, his face ashen, tugged at me frantically. “Liam, run! Now!” “Damien has connections everywhere, he’ll kill you!” I lightly patted Benji’s shoulder. “Easy. He doesn’t have that kind of power.” “I don’t have the power?!” Damien exploded, his face twisting. “You know who my uncle is? Victor Sterling. This whole district answers to him!” A ripple of shock went through the crowd at the name. “His uncle is Victor ‘The Enforcer’ Sterling?” “I heard Sterling is ruthless about family. Didn’t he?” “Yeah. Word is some drunk insulted his nephew once. Sterling made him swallow his own tongue.” Amidst the whispers, Damien glared at me hatefully, his voice venomous. “Liam, today I’m going to show you what real power is!” With that, he pulled out his phone and publicly dialed Victor’s number. As soon as the call connected, Damien put it on speaker. “Uncle, get to Bourbon Street, I just got hit!” However, from the other end of the line, only Victor’s low voice came through. “I have an urgent matter to deal with. No time.” Then, Victor immediately hung up. The scene fell into stunned silence. Damien’s face was a mask of disbelief. But I smiled. “What? He won’t come?” “Then let me call him.” With that, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Tell Victor to get his butt to Bourbon Street within three minutes.” After I hung up, the place was completely silent for a full three seconds. Then came a wave of scornful mockery. “Tell Victor to get his butt here in three minutes? Who do you think you are?” “You’re so desperate to look tough, you’re practically suicidal!” The onlookers stared at me like I was mentally challenged. Damien let out a cold laugh. “Liam, you’re unbelievably stupid.” “You’re a bottom-tier nobody, you don’t even have the right to speak to my uncle.” “Besides, my uncle spoils me rotten, and he’s too busy to even come for me. What makes you think you’re important enough for him to drop everything?” I looked at him, my voice calm. “When I call him, he has no choice but to come.” Benji’s face was chalk-white. He tugged at my arm, his voice on the verge of tears. “Liam, stop talking, just run, or it’ll be too late!” “After hitting me and disrespecting my uncle, he thinks he can run?” Damien roared, then yelled to the surrounding classmates. “Keep an eye on these two pathetic losers.” “Today, I’m going to drag him in front of my uncle and let him feel the terror of ‘The Enforcer’!” As soon as he finished speaking, the classmates immediately formed a circle, trapping Benji and me in the center. Tiffany shot me a disgusted glance. “So dumb.” “Good thing I broke up with you and chose Damien instead.” Damien snorted, checking his watch. “You said my uncle would be here in three minutes.” “Well, time’s up.” “Where is he?” The crowd erupted in derisive laughter. “Three minutes? He couldn’t get Sterling on the phone in three centuries!” “If that loser can summon Victor, I’ll eat my own shoes.” The echo of their mockery hadn’t faded when a convoy of black luxury sedans rounded the corner, screeching to a halt before the crowd. The lead door flew open. A middle-aged man launched himself from the back seat. Damien froze solid. “Uncle?!”

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At the hospital, I found our emergency fund empty while my husband toasted Christmas in a five-star suite with his sweetheart and her dog. The photo showed her in lingerie, straddling my husband over a game of strip poker. The doctor shook his head, declaring the patient deceased. I stormed home to confront my husband, only to find him too wasted to stand, waving me off like a bothersome fly. My son rushed out, yelling, “Mom, stop picking fights! What’s the big deal if Dad spends a little on Felicity. She’s just his best friend!” “Besides, it was Grandma who was sick! You should’ve paid! Why’d you even touch our savings?” My husband smirked at me. “I really can’t believe your mom died over a bit of money.” A cold, bitter laugh escaped me. It wasn’t my mom. It was his! I pushed the door open at 3 AM. Daniel was passed out on the couch. The stench of stale booze and perfume made my head spin. I walked over, the bank card digging into my palm. “Where’s the money?” He stirred, voice thick with sleep and annoyance. “What’s your problem? I just got off an overtime shift. I’m exhausted. Can’t you just chill?” I shoved the card in his face. “Two hundred thousand. Gone. Where is it, Daniel?” His eyes darted away. “I don’t know, maybe-” I didn’t wait. I opened my phone, pulled up Felicity’s Instagram, and thrust the screen under his nose. That photo was perfectly framed. There was Felicity, in a sequined bra, radiant as she clung to Daniel, gripping his tie. And there was Daniel, smiling, his hand tugging playfully at her bra strap. That relaxed, contented smile-I hadn’t seen it in years. In the corner, their Pomeranian, Snowball, perched before a pet cake studded with candles, its neck ringed by a sparkling gold collar. The caption read: “Thank you to my incredible Daniel for Snowball’s Christmas! Gold collar with his name, lifetime insurance-all set. Love my perfect ‘best friend’!” I stood there, arm outstretched, frozen. “It’s just… some money,” he finally muttered. “Snowball is family to her. She wanted to give him a perfect Christmas. What’s the crime in helping a friend? The venue, the photographer, the custom collar-twenty grand. A dog deserves love, doesn’t it? I got him lifetime insurance too. Fifty thousand. The rest…we celebrated. It’s called networking. You wouldn’t understand.” I heard myself laugh-a short, sharp sound. “What’s wrong?” “Why are you like this? Felicity isn’t a stranger. We have history. And if your mother died over money…that was her choice. Not my problem.” He turned his head away, dismissive. My son rubbed his eyes and walked out. “Dad’s right. If she died, it’s because you didn’t make enough. We shouldn’t have touched the savings. What’s wrong with helping a dog? Snowball’s a living thing. Aunt Felicity is nice to Dad, so he’s nice back. What’s wrong with that?” I whipped around to stare at the child I’d raised for fifteen years. He said it calmly, as if stating a simple fact. Just hours ago, the E.R. doctor’s words still rang in my ears. “Ms. Clara? Your mother-in-law has had a massive stroke. She needs surgery now.” I clutched the bank card and rushed to the hospital, only to see two words flash on the terminal: “INSUFFICIENT FUNDS.” My mother-in-law, Eleanor, had a pension of over ten thousand a month. She scrimped and saved, handing every spare cent to Daniel, or to her grandson. I watched his face cycle through self-righteousness, to irritation, and finally settle into a mask of cold blame-and beneath it, a flicker of relief. Even in the subtle curl of his lip, I caught it: that familiar, ghost of a smile. I’d seen it before. Every time my own mother was unwell, he’d perform concern, but that same fleeting, lighthearted look would surface. He’d always boasted about his mother being tough, brushing off her high blood pressure, her hidden snacks of fatty meat and strong tea. Now, his “tough” mother had collapsed. And he still thought it was my mother. I nodded, pressing my lip into a thin line. “You’re right,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “That’s fate. Nothing to regret.” “But the dead still need burying. What’s the plan for the funeral?” His face twisted with instant irritation. “She’s your mother! Why should I care? You handle it. I have no money and no time for this!” “Alright.” I didn’t look at him again. I simply turned and walked towards the bedroom.

My mother-in-law’s death certificate was just a simple sheet of paper. In the living room, Daniel was scrolling on his phone, shoving cookies into his mouth. My son, Leo, was sprawled on the sofa, the cacophony of his video game filling the air. “What time is it?” Daniel heard me and looked up, furious. “No breakfast again? Are you trying to starve us?” Daniel let out an irritated tsk, pushed himself up, and fished his wallet from the briefcase. He peeled off several bills, walked over, and flicked them toward me. “Enough. Stop moping around like it was your own mother.” His voice was thick with condescension and undisguised annoyance. “Here. Five hundred. Go buy some discount flowers and a cheap candle. Wrap this up. Quickly.” “I’ve already booked my annual leave. Leo and I are taking Felicity to Whistler to ski. Don’t you dare try to guilt-trip us into canceling.” Leo’s eyes widened. He paused his game, sitting bolt upright. “For real? Dad! Yes! I want the new Carbon Pros.” His young face showed pure elation, even a hint of complaint. “Grandma, seriously…she couldn’t have waited? She still owes me my graduation gift.” Grandma. He said it so naturally. Both father and son were absolutely convinced that the person who died last night was my mother. Slowly, I bent down and picked up the bills. This five hundred dollars was his entire budget for “my mother’s” funeral. “Daniel, don’t you want to go see Mom at the hospital? It’s the last time.” His lips curled into a mocking smile. “What’s the point? She’s dead. Occupying a hospital bed costs money. Just burn her, already.” He paused, his tone growing more impatient. “Honestly, your mom really knows how to pick her timing. Not dying sooner or later, but right on Christmas, almost ruining my ski trip with Felicity.” I took a deep breath. Well, if Daniel, her own son, requested this, why should I waste my effort? Just then, the doorbell rang. The annoyance on Daniel’s face instantly vanished, replaced by a cheerful lightness, and he strode to open the door. “Daniel! Leo, sweetie!” Felicity stood there, cuddling that fluffy white Pomeranian. A dazzling gold chain shimmered around her neck, its pendant identical to Snowball’s collar. “I’m here to take Snowball for his Christmas grooming! Oh, Clara, you’re here too?” Her lips curved into a perfectly measured, pitying arc. “My condolences, Clara. Daniel told me about your mom. Old age, you know, nothing you can do.” She changed the subject, her smile deepening, as she ostentatiously stroked her necklace. “Look, it’s a matching set for me and Snowball! Daniel picked it out specially. Isn’t it cute? He says I’m even more adorable wearing this than Snowball is.” Snowball was set down and immediately scampered around the living room, rubbing against Daniel’s pants, then going to Leo’s feet. “Oh, that reminds me,” Felicity chimed in, her voice artificially light. “About your mother…it won’t interfere with our ski trip at the end of the month, will it? Daniel assured me it was fine, so I went ahead and booked the hotel. All good?” I watched Felicity’s saccharine smile, Daniel’s utterly indulgent and even doting gaze upon her, my son chasing the dog, and finally, my eyes fixed on Daniel’s face. “Daniel, let’s get a divorce.” “What did you say?” Daniel took a step forward, his voice squeezed through clenched teeth. “Clara, are you out of your mind? You want a divorce over your mom dying?!” He tried to crush me with his usual intimidation. “How are you going to explain this to your dad? Don’t you dare embarrass me like this!” “Mom! What are you talking about?!” Leo lunged forward, shielding his father, his face filled with incredulity and fury. “Grandma just passed, and you’re not even sad, you’re here making a scene about divorce? Are you sick?! You’re making Dad and Felicity laugh at us!” He pointed at me, his tone full of accusation and disdain. “Do you know how good Felicity is to me? She buys me anything I want! She’s more like a mom than you are! What’s wrong with Dad helping her? All you ever do is make a long face!” Felicity, with her arm around Leo, shot me a triumphant, challenging look. Every word was like a final hammer blow, shattering the last vestiges of my heart, any lingering illusion that perhaps, just perhaps, some humanity remained in them.

The funeral home chapel was stark and empty, only my mother-in-law’s body lay there. A staff member handed me a price list. Daniel’s call came in just then. “Just pick the cheapest cremation,” his voice held its usual impatience. “It’s just ashes, what difference does it make? Don’t waste money.” I didn’t argue. I checked the last box. The urn was also the simplest wooden box. As I walked towards our apartment complex, familiar laughter drifted over. At the corner, in front of an expensive pet store, Daniel and Felicity stood side-by-side. Felicity was holding a brightly colored ski suit up to Snowball. Daniel’s arm was casually wrapped around Felicity’s waist. Snowball seemed to sense something, suddenly wriggling free from Felicity’s arms and dashing towards me, barking furiously. I was startled. The wooden box slipped from my grasp, smashing onto the ground. The lid flew open, and a scattering of gray-white ashes spilled out. “Snowball! Come back!” Felicity shrieked. Daniel finally saw me. The smile on his face instantly froze. The arm around Felicity’s waist snatched back as if burned. His gaze swept over the mess on the ground, his brows furrowed. Snowball ran to the ashes, sniffed curiously, then let out several loud sneezes, shaking his head repeatedly. “Oh no! My Snowball!” Felicity, in high heels, rushed over, cradling the dog protectively. Her eyes immediately filled with disgust and anger as she looked at me. “Clara, what are you doing?! You scared Snowball! He just got over a cold! And what… what is this on the ground? It’s so dirty! How unlucky!” Daniel walked over, first looking at Felicity and the dog in her arms, then shifting his gaze to me and the scattered ashes. His face was grim, part embarrassment at being caught, part pure exasperation. “Are you not watching where you’re going?” He preemptively accused me, then stiffly added, as if to explain the previous scene, “Felicity’s back isn’t feeling well, I was just… rubbing it for her.” He suddenly raised his foot and kicked hard at the pile of ashes several times! The ashes swirled up, scattering into the cold, dry air, becoming even more formless. “Clean it up now!” He shouted at a street sweeper nearby, his tone brooking no argument. “This is utterly disgusting! Throw it in the trash!” “Why are you standing there?” Daniel snapped. He yanked a bill from his wallet and shoved it at the worker. “Just take it away! It’s disgusting!” He turned to me, his tone chillingly casual. “Stop gawking. So the urn broke? Go scoop some dirt from the backyard, put it in a box, and be done with it. No one’s going to autopsy the ashes.” Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was the funeral director, calling to finalize the simple interment for tomorrow. Before I could answer, Daniel snatched it from my hand. “Keep it simple. Don’t waste money on a plot. Just find some public land outside the city. Bury the box. Don’t order any flowers or anything.” He paused, glanced back at me with a look of pure, performative malice, then added. “Actually, add one more thing. Hire a mariachi band. A small one. Three people. Have them play at the graveside. Something upbeat. What’s with the long faces? She had a long life. Let’s give her a proper send-off. Make it festive.” I stood there, holding the empty wooden box, listening to him plan his mother’s “festive” funeral as casually as ordering a pizza, her ashes to be mixed with backyard soil. Felicity was cooing at Snowball, rolling her eyes. “Daniel, hurry up, this place smells weird, Snowball isn’t comfortable.” Daniel hung up, shoved the phone back into my hand, and brushed imaginary dust from his hands, as if he’d completed a bothersome chore. “That’s how it’s going to be,” he concluded, no longer looking at me. He turned and walked towards Felicity, his voice regaining its lightheartedness. “Come on, after we finish getting Snowball his gear, let’s grab some food.” I gently closed the lid. Fine. Have it your way, Daniel. After all, it wasn’t my mother in there.

The wind whipped dust across the rural landscape.I had to squint against it. Before me lay a raw mound of earth-no stone, no name. Only a weathered wooden stand held the box I’d filled with soil from our apartment’s dying flowerbed. A cheap Bluetooth speaker screeched out the latest viral pop song. In front of the grave, a handful of young women in sequined skirts gyrated in a crude, listless imitation of a dance. A crowd of local villagers had gathered at a safe distance, drawn by the noise. They stood in a silent semicircle, pointing and murmuring among themselves. I stood witness to Daniel’s demanded “celebration.” Just then, a taxi sped up. The door opened. A middle-aged woman, looking travel-ravaged and pale, stumbled out. It was Sarah. Daniel’s sister. She had clearly just arrived from the airport, her face etched with the fatigue of a long flight and an expression of disbelieving panic. Her gaze swept over the dancing women, the gawking villagers, finally landing on the solitary grave and the wooden box on the table. “Mom?” she cried out hoarsely, her legs buckling. She collapsed directly in front of the dirt grave, her shoulders trembling violently, a choked sob escaping her throat. “Mom!” I was about to step forward when another car arrived. Daniel got out, accompanied by Felicity and my son, Leo. The moment I saw them, my pupils narrowed. All three of them were dressed in garish, bright red. As soon as Felicity got out of the car, she raised her phone, excitedly pointing it at the dancing women, taking photos and videos, clucking approvingly. Daniel put an arm around her shoulder, a smile on his face as he said loudly, “This is more like it! A bit of liveliness is good, the old lady would have loved it.” I walked up to them and said, “This is a funeral. Dressed like this, isn’t it inappropriate?” Daniel immediately pulled Felicity behind him, as if shielding a precious treasure, and glared at me impatiently. “Clara, are you done yet? It’s just a memorial service! Don’t be so old-fashioned. Felicity and Snowball are here specifically to lighten the mood.” He paused, his tone growing even more self-righteous. “Besides, your mom’s dead. What does she know?” Sarah, who had collapsed to her knees by the grave, snapped her head up at his words. Her face was a mess of tears. She stared at her brother, as if he’s a stranger. Daniel finally noticed her. He moved forward, trying to pull her up. “Sarah, what’s all this? This is Clara’s mother’s-” He didn’t finish his sentence. CRACK! A raw, open-handed slap exploded across his cheek. Sarah staggered to her feet, her whole body trembling violently. She jabbed a shaking finger toward the raw mound of earth. “Daniel! Open your eyes! Look! Who do you think is in there? That’s Mom! Your mother! And you…you give her this? You let these performers dance at her grave? You wear red? You… you heartless monster!” The slap snapped Daniel’s head sideways, a red mark blazing across his cheek. He held his face, his eyes shifting from shock to utter confusion. He suddenly turned to me, lips trembling with a silent question. I took a deep breath, walked to my just-arrived parents, and calmly gestured toward the absurd scene. “Mom, Dad. This is the funeral Daniel arranged. For his mother.”

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The company’s layoff list went public, and my husband’s name was on it. To secure his future, I voluntarily resigned, ensuring the company kept him. He climbed the corporate ladder, while I became a housewife for forty years. Until, in our old age, he suddenly asked for a divorce, planning to move in with my former assistant… Even our son supported his choice: “Dad worked so hard to support us all these years, Mom. Just let him go.” That’s when I realized Marcus and Chloe had been having an affair ever since that layoff. After being abandoned, I died alone in a tiny rental apartment from heart failure. Then, I opened my eyes again. I had been reborn, back to the moment the company announced the layoff list. This time, I wouldn’t give up my job for my husband again. “Audrey, did you hear me?” Marcus waved a hand in front of my face. “I just got called into a meeting, passed by the CEO’s office, and got a sneak peek at the layoff list… My name’s on it too.” He wrinkled his nose, his face etched with despair. At that moment, he had no idea I’d been reborn. After his initial dejection, a glint flickered in Marcus’s eyes. He grabbed my shoulders. “Honey, I’m a man, I can’t lose my job. How about you volunteer to resign and give your position to me? You can be a stay-at-home mom, and I promise I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world!” I just stared at him. He’d said the exact same thing in my past life. Last time, I listened to him and went to the CEO to resign. I even begged the CEO to keep him on. The CEO eventually agreed to my request. After I was laid off, Marcus took over all my responsibilities. And Chloe, who had been my assistant, naturally followed him. Then, behind my back, they had an affair for forty years. I clutched my chest, forcing myself to pull away from the painful memories. “Audrey, since you’re not saying anything, I’ll take that as a yes.” Marcus grinned, and just like before, he patted my head and kissed me. Then he pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket. “Happy birthday, honey. Your old gloves were so worn out, so I bought you a new pair.” I didn’t answer. Because I clearly remembered that in my past life, I’d found a jewelry store receipt in his jacket pocket. He claimed it was a souvenir from a business trip, meant for his superior. But the very next day, I saw a beautiful gold necklace on Chloe’s neck. Back then, I was too naive to connect the two events. He gave me a cheap pair of gloves, but bought Chloe a gold necklace. There were countless similar incidents in my past life. So, I looked him straight in the eye and said: “Marcus, I don’t agree.” He didn’t react immediately. “…What?” “I won’t resign and let you take my position. Women have careers too. Why should I sacrifice mine for you?” Marcus’s eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief. “Audrey, I never thought you’d be so selfish!” “What kind of wife competes with her husband for a job? What you should be doing right now is taking care of our son and my mom!” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You being laid off just shows your incompetence. I think you’re better suited to stay home.”

“…You!” He was so furious he couldn’t speak, slamming the office door shut as he left. We were in a cold war for the next few days. On the first night, I cooked dinner. He simply flipped the table over. Gazing at the mess scattered across the floor, Marcus’s mom, Martha, didn’t scold her son. Instead, she glared at me. “Audrey, what did you do to upset Marcus again? Go apologize to him, right now!” Leo also piped up: “Mom, why are you always picking on Dad?!” I almost laughed from sheer frustration. I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. I kicked the overturned dining table. After that day, I never cooked again. Hearing that Marcus and I were fighting, Chloe started to secretly butter him up. She’d make two lunches every day, sneaking one to Marcus at the office. Once, I saw her feeding him bites of food. A flash of guilt flickered in Marcus’s eyes. Chloe, however, offered a knowing smile. “Audrey, I brought too much lunch, so I figured I’d share some with you. Want to try my cooking?” I shook my head, my voice cold. “No thanks.” “Audrey, you’re not mad, are you?” “I just feel bad for Marcus, working so hard every day. If you’re upset, I won’t do it anymore.” She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with what looked like tears. Marcus immediately felt a pang of sympathy for her. He pulled Chloe behind him, lowering his voice. “Audrey, stop stirring up trouble for no reason. Chloe is a sweet girl, nothing like you!” I nearly scoffed, but I held it in. Only three days left until the layoff list was officially announced. Then I’d make sure Marcus was out for good. Right now, I couldn’t waste my time and energy arguing with him. Three days later, the company held the layoff meeting. Everyone sat with their heads bowed, terrified their names would be called. But Marcus, who had already seen the list, was perfectly composed, even a little smug. The CEO read the last name, then looked out at the room. “And finally, Audrey.”

My heart plummeted. I felt cold sweat instantly prickle my skin. My hands and feet went numb. How could this be… How could it be me? Beside me, Marcus struggled to suppress a triumphant smirk. After the layoff list was read, they moved on to the personnel assignments for the restructured company. Not only was Marcus not laid off, but he was also promoted. To manager… I didn’t fully recover until the meeting ended. I stumbled to the stage, picking up the sheet of paper covered with names. It really was me… Brenda, a colleague standing nearby, also on the list, sighed, her face etched with worry. “Audrey, you’re our best technician in the whole department. Did you upset the new Vice President?” I felt a strange disconnect, asking almost automatically, “Who is it?” “His name is Robert. He and the CEO finalized this layoff list together.” It finally clicked. Robert, he was Chloe’s brother-in-law. My face fell, utterly drained, body and soul. I had no idea where the road ahead would lead. Stumbling home in a daze, I found Chloe there already… Marcus’s mom, Martha, had prepared a lavish dinner. “Marcus, this time, it’s all thanks to Chloe’s help.” Martha said, not forgetting to shoot me a glare. She clasped Chloe’s hand tightly. “You’re such a good girl! I truly wish you were Marcus’s wife.” Marcus took a sip of wine, silently agreeing with them. Standing in the doorway, I felt like an outsider in my own home. Then, Chloe saw me, her eyes gleaming with a challenging glint. “Audrey, you’re back!”

After that day, Chloe became a regular at our house. She, dressed to the nines every day, stood in stark contrast to me, newly laid off. I didn’t even have money for new clothes anymore. A cold dread enveloped me. Was I doomed to repeat the tragedy of my past life? No. I wouldn’t allow it. Absolutely not. I took off my apron, found Brenda, and we discussed starting our own business. We bought a food truck, planning to sell burgers on the street. But Marcus was quick to mock me. “How much money do you think you’ll make selling burgers? Don’t embarrass me out there.” Ever since I was laid off, Marcus’s attitude toward me had grown increasingly hostile. But I ignored him, focusing on building our business. The weather was freezing, and my hands were raw with chilblains. The pain kept me awake at night. Marcus saw them but just brushed it off. “I told you not to go out. Now you’re suffering, serves you right.” I remembered in my past life, his excuse for wanting a divorce was because of Chloe’s hands. Her hands had developed arthritis from overwork, and she eventually couldn’t do housework. Marcus felt terribly sorry for her, so he decided to divorce me to take care of her. “Chloe’s hands got arthritis from helping me at work. I can’t just ignore her.” Later, both father and son threw me out, renting a rundown apartment for me. Now, I absolutely wouldn’t repeat those mistakes. I gritted my teeth, applied chilblain cream, and wrapped my hands in thick bandages. The next day, I was back at my burger stand. I worked the stand during the day and spent my evenings in the kitchen, studying. Besides selling burgers, I hoped to re-enroll in school and become a professional engineer. It was my only way back into the workforce, my only chance to change my life. And I couldn’t let Marcus know about any of my efforts. Marcus, thanks to Chloe’s connections, was absolutely crushing it at work. He came home later and later each night. Their affair was an open secret at the company. My former colleagues even joked about me in their SnapChat group chat: “Audrey is really generous! I wish my wife was that generous and let me have a mistress.” “She doesn’t even have a job now, she has to rely on a man to support her. Of course, she wouldn’t dare to divorce him!” “Such a pussy!” … Despite the humiliation, I remained unfazed. I stared at the date on the calendar. December 20th was fast approaching. I felt a surge of excitement. Because, in my previous life, one of the company’s multi-million dollar German machines broke down on that exact day! And in the entire company, I was the only one who knew how to fix it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “325332”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn