Under the blinding glare of the chandelier, the tension in the auction house was thick enough to choke on. The royal nineteenth-century bridal diadem—a masterpiece of gold filigree and sapphires that I had spent the last three years painstakingly restoring with my own hands—was sold. Lennon Caldwell had just won it with an astronomical, record-breaking bid. But the real shock didn’t come from the price tag. It came when he turned around and casually placed that historically profound, breathtakingly irreplaceable artifact onto the perfectly coiffed head of Hollywood’s newest It-girl. The room erupted into a cacophony of gasps. Dozens of camera lenses instantly pivoted, zooming in on my face. Every reporter in the room was holding their breath, waiting to see how the “long-term fiancée” would unravel. Lennon glanced over at me. His eyes held that familiar, careless arrogance—a quiet disdain he didn’t even bother to hide anymore. “The diadem is a symbol of good fortune,” he said, his voice entirely too light for the weight of the moment. “I’m just letting Gia borrow it for the evening to calm her nerves. I’ll have my assistant send a brand-new set of diamonds to your apartment tomorrow.” “Don’t bother.” The absolute stillness in my own voice surprised even me. Lennon’s brow furrowed. He clearly thought I was throwing a tantrum. “Don’t be childish, Camille. Gia just won her first major acting award. She needs this kind of press right now.” A small, quiet smile escaped my lips. I didn’t say another word. I simply turned on my heel and walked out, leaving the suffocating humiliation of that ballroom behind me. He would never know. He would never know that the sapphire diadem was the bridal crown I had spent thousands of hours repairing for myself, meant to be worn on the day I married him. But since it had been tainted, I no longer had any use for it. 1 Footsteps clicked against the marble behind me. It was Gia. “Is she mad at me?” her voice drifted down the corridor, dripping with manufactured innocence. “Should I go take the shiny stones off and give them back?” Lennon’s reply was a cold drawl. “Ignore her. She’s just spoiled.” Stepping out of the gala, the Manhattan night air hit me with a biting chill. Lennon didn’t know the truth about the diadem. He didn’t know it wasn’t just a museum piece; it was my dowry. I had spent three years hunched beneath magnifying lamps, mending every fractured wire, re-setting every loose stone, dreaming of the moment I would walk down the aisle toward him. Back at my restoration studio, Lennon’s assistant quietly entered and set a velvet tray on my workbench. The diadem lay inside, looking pitifully abandoned. Two delicate strands of antique gold wire were snapped. A flawless sapphire was missing. The intricate enamel work was chipped. Lennon strolled in a few minutes later, loosening the collar of his tailored tuxedo. “Have it fixed by tomorrow morning.” I sat on my stool, staring at the wreckage of gold and jewels. I didn’t move a muscle. Lennon walked over and pinched my chin, forcing my face up. “What are you spacing out for? A little repair job is nothing for those hands of yours. It needs to be at the Global Heritage Exhibition by the day after tomorrow. This is about the Caldwell family’s reputation. Don’t be ungrateful.” I turned my face sharply, breaking his grip. “I can’t fix it. It’s ruined.” His expression darkened. “Camille. Do not test my patience. Gia had a little accident and bumped it. As the future Mrs. Caldwell, it is your absolute duty to clean up her messes.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cheap velvet box, and tossed it onto the workbench. “Take it. It’s a thank-you gift from Gia. A limited-edition designer hair clip. Don’t ever say I don’t treat you well.” The box popped open on impact. Inside sat a gaudy, rhinestone-encrusted pink bow. It was the same clip Gia had been wearing on the red carpet earlier tonight. A single strand of her blonde hair was still tangled in the clasp. I took a slow, trembling breath. I reached toward the velvet tray to pick up the diadem. In my distraction, the jagged edge of snapped gold wire sliced deep into my index finger. A bead of dark red blood welled up instantly, dropping heavily onto the antique gold. Lennon swore under his breath and snatched the diadem away, inspecting the metal. “Why are you so clumsy? Do you have any idea how much this artifact is worth if you stain it?” He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and frantically buffed the blood off the gold. He never once looked at my bleeding hand. The studio door pushed open, and Gia slipped inside, immediately wrapping her arms around Lennon’s bicep. “Don’t be mad at her, Lennon,” she pouted. “She’s probably just jealous that I got to wear it. It must be so hard for her to see me in something so pretty.” Lennon set the cleaned diadem back onto the tray. “Did you hear that? Learn a little grace from Gia. Fix it, and send it straight to the exhibition gallery. Don’t hold up Gia’s dress rehearsal tomorrow.” With that, he wrapped his arm around Gia’s waist and led her out the door. I stood rooted to the floor, watching their silhouettes disappear into the hallway. Slowly, I reached out, picked up the rhinestone clip and the velvet box, and dropped them both into the trash can. I walked into the back room of my studio. The space was filled with the quiet ghosts of a wedding that would never happen. Hanging on a velvet mannequin was an antique, Edwardian silk-chiffon bridal gown I had spent three years meticulously re-beading by hand. On the table sat half-finished custom wedding favors. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to an international number I had saved but never dared to call. He answered on the first ring. “Camille?” I closed my eyes. The silence in the room felt heavy, suffocating. “That proposal,” I whispered. “My answer is yes.” There was a heartbeat of silence on the other end, followed by the deep, steady intake of breath, and then a voice thick with quiet triumph. Just as I hung up, my phone buzzed with an audio message from Lennon. “Get the repairs done and get to sleep. We’re going to City Hall on Monday to sign the marriage license. I refuse to have my bride looking like a corpse with dark circles under her eyes. Don’t embarrass the family.” I stared at the transcribed text on the screen for three seconds. Then, I deleted the entire conversation thread. 2 The next morning, the studio door swung open. Lennon walked in with Gia clinging to his side. I was bent over the workbench, carefully fusing a microscopic gold filament. I didn’t look up. Gia began wandering around my pristine studio, picking up and dropping my delicate restoration tools like they were toys. “Why is everything in here so… dusty?” she whined, pinching her nose. “It smells like an old basement.” She drifted over to the vintage mannequin. She reached a manicured hand toward the fragile Edwardian lace. It was spun from decades-old silk—incredibly delicate, irreplaceable. I slammed my tools down. “Don’t touch that!” Startled, Gia yanked her hand back. Her elbow caught the edge of a heavy tin of industrial gilding solvent resting on the high table next to the gown. The tin tipped. A thick, toxic amber liquid splashed violently across the immaculate white silk. The chemicals soaked instantly into the antique threads. The intricate beadwork I had spent thousands of hours sewing melted into a hardened, ruined stain. Instinct overrode logic. I lunged forward to push her away and save the fabric. But before my fingers even grazed Gia’s shoulder, a massive force shoved me backward. Lennon had stepped between us, shoving me violently against the mahogany workbench. The sharp corner of the table dug ruthlessly into my lower back. I collapsed against the wood, curling in on myself as a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. The pain was blinding. “Are you insane?!” Lennon roared. “It’s just a ragged old dress! If it’s ruined, it’s ruined! How dare you lay a hand on Gia? Do you have any idea how much her body is insured for?” Gia shrank into Lennon’s chest, pointing a trembling finger down at the toe of her designer heels, where a single drop of solvent had landed. “Lennon… my limited-edition shoes got dirty…” Lennon glanced down. Without a second thought, he reached over, grabbed the delicate hem of my ruined Edwardian bridal gown, and ripped it off the mannequin. “Here, let me wipe it off.” He balled up the gown—the dress I had poured my soul into, the dress I had bled over for three years—and knelt on the floor, using it as a rag to scrub Gia’s shoes. I clutched my back, breathless, watching my life’s work get dragged across the dusty floor. In Lennon’s hands, my sacred, irreplaceable history was nothing but a dirty towel. Once the shoe was clean, Lennon casually tossed the soiled, crumpled heap of vintage silk into the corner. He dusted off his hands. He turned to look at me, still gasping by the table, and pulled a sleek black Amex from his wallet, slapping it onto the bench. “Enough of the dramatics. Go buy yourself a custom Vera Wang or whatever it is you want. Nobody wears vintage garbage like that anymore anyway. You’d be a laughingstock.” Gia looped her arm through his. “Exactly. That old thing was so tacky. You have such amazing taste, Lennon. Can we leave now? The fumes in here are giving me a headache.” Lennon nodded. He didn’t spare me a single glance as he escorted her out of the room. No one asked if I was hurt. No one apologized. The studio fell into a deathly, ringing silence. I gripped the edge of the table and forced myself to stand. My legs shook as I walked over to the corner and picked up the gown. It was stiff with chemicals, stained brown, coated in floor dirt. I picked up my heavy fabric shears. Snip. Snip. I cut the gown into shreds. I threw the pieces into the metal fire-safe bin by the door, struck a match, and dropped it in. The flames caught quickly, devouring the silk, reducing the lace to black ash. I stood there, watching the fire hollow out the fabric, when my phone vibrated. A text from Lennon. “Gia is shaken up. I’m staying at her place tonight. Use the time to reflect on your behavior. Stop acting like such a bitter, petty woman.” 3 Three days before we were supposed to sign our marriage license, the Caldwell family hosted a highly publicized charity gala. Lennon’s PR team made it clear that my attendance was mandatory—it was meant to build hype for the upcoming society wedding. I arrived at the ballroom doors wearing a severe, unadorned black slip dress, my face entirely free of makeup. When Lennon spotted me, his jaw tightened. He marched over and hissed in my ear. “We are celebrating tonight. Why the hell are you dressed for a funeral? Go upstairs and change into something bright. Stop trying to embarrass me.” I met his gaze, my eyes completely hollow. “The only other dress I had was the one you used to polish your girlfriend’s shoes. This is all that’s left.” Lennon was momentarily speechless. Before he could formulate an excuse, Gia bounded over, poured into a siren-red couture gown. “Lennon, do I look okay in this?” she beamed. Lennon’s irritation vanished. He flashed his media-ready smile, wrapping his arm securely around her waist as he turned to the approaching investors. “Everyone, this is Gia. She’s our charity ambassador for the evening, and the new face of Caldwell Fine Jewelry.” He led her through the glittering crowd, soaking up the flattery, completely forgetting I existed. Then, the auction began. Gia’s eyes locked onto a piece on the velvet display stand. It was a vintage 1920s Art Deco pearl-and-diamond hair comb. The pearls were luminous, aged to a perfect creamy luster. It was my late mother’s heirloom. It had been lost to creditors years ago after her death. “Lennon, look at that comb. It’s absolutely stunning. I want it,” Gia purred, shaking his arm. Lennon didn’t hesitate. He raised his paddle. “Five million.” No one in the room dared to bid against the CEO of Caldwell Enterprises. The gavel slammed down. The comb was delivered directly to his table. I stepped forward immediately, my hand outstretched. “That was my mother’s comb. Please. Let me have it.” Lennon casually sidestepped my hand. With a slick, practiced motion, he slid the antique comb into the side of Gia’s blonde updo. He took a step back, admiring his work. “Flawless,” he murmured. “Beautiful jewels for a beautiful girl.” I held my hand out again, my voice trembling. “Give it back to me.” Lennon grabbed my wrist. His grip was bruisingly tight. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “I told you to stop being petty. She’s just wearing it for the night. You’ll get it back when we go home. I bought it to boost our philanthropic image. Stop acting like the whole world owes you a massive debt.” On stage, the auctioneer’s voice boomed through the speakers. “And now, for our next lot! A magnificent fifteenth-century Venetian gold chalice, miraculously restored by the world-renowned antiquities expert, Miss Camille Dubois! Bidding starts at eight million dollars!” Lennon released my wrist and let out a derisive scoff. “Who would pay eight million for a glued-together piece of trash? The only reason anyone bids on her little arts and crafts is because she has my last name attached to her.” A man in the front row of the VIP section casually raised his paddle. “Fifty million.” The entire ballroom went dead silent. The man who stood up was dressed in a bespoke charcoal-grey suit that screamed quiet, unfathomable wealth. It was Gideon Roth, the notoriously elusive billionaire art collector who had just returned from Europe. Lennon froze, his sneer faltering into a plastic smile as Gideon took the microphone. Gideon’s dark, piercing gaze bypassed Lennon entirely and landed squarely on me. “Miss Dubois’s craftsmanship is nothing short of divine,” Gideon’s voice was a low, magnetic baritone. “She is an artist who breathes second life into history. Fifty million is merely a starting point.” A wave of murmurs rippled through the elite crowd. Every eye turned to me. Lennon’s smile looked painful. He raised his voice, attempting to reclaim the narrative. “Mr. Roth is too kind. My fiancée’s little hobby is just patching up broken garbage. It’s hardly worthy of this kind of stage.” Standing just behind Lennon, I let out a soft, genuine laugh. I looked at the back of Lennon’s neck and spoke, my voice carrying clearly. “Mr. Caldwell is right. I am an expert in fixing broken garbage. It’s just a shame that some things are rotten all the way down to the core. Those things can never be fixed.” Lennon whipped around, genuine shock flashing in his eyes before it hardened into pure fury. He glanced around at the cameras, swallowed his rage, and reached out, patronizingly patting the top of my head. “Always so defensive,” he chuckled tightly. “Gia is staying over at the penthouse tonight. Make sure the guest room is ready. And be a good host.” I didn’t flinch. I just let his hand fall. Three days left. 4 The night before we were scheduled to sign the marriage papers, Gia moved into our penthouse. Lennon stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, pointing inside. “You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight. Gia has trouble sleeping in strange places, and this custom mattress is the only firmness that works for her spine. You’re the host; make some sacrifices for our guest.” That custom mattress was the one I had spent months researching and importing from Sweden to accommodate the chronic lower back pain Lennon suffered from. I didn’t argue. I just turned and walked down the hall. “Where are you going?” he called out. “The study. I have paperwork.” “Good. Be productive. Behave yourself, and I’ll buy you something nice after we sign the papers tomorrow.” I walked into the study and locked the heavy oak door behind me. I opened my laptop, connected to the printer, and printed out a single document. Then, I opened the wall safe. I took out my bank cards, the property deeds in my name, and every single piece of expensive jewelry I had accumulated over the last eight years. I dragged a large cardboard box out from the closet and unceremoniously dumped everything inside. I taped it shut and slapped a shipping label on the top. The delivery address was the National Women’s Charity Foundation. Deep into the night, the muffled sounds of Gia’s giggles drifted through the walls from the master suite. I sat on the floor of the study. From my pocket, I pulled out a cubic zirconia replica ring—a cheap, flawless fake. I set it dead in the center of the mahogany desk. I had sold the real diamond engagement ring months ago to buy better restoration equipment. He had never even noticed. The next morning, Lennon emerged from the master bedroom. He walked into the kitchen and slid a plate toward me. “Eat up. Then head to the museum. Today is your big debut. Don’t humiliate me.” I looked down. It was the leftover half of Gia’s breakfast delivery. Gia didn’t eat carbs, so Lennon was tossing the bread to me. Years ago, if we shared a single piece of toast, he used to meticulously cut the crusts off just the way I liked before giving me the larger half. “I’m going to announce our engagement officially at the exhibition today,” Lennon said, adjusting his Tom Ford tie in the hallway mirror. “I’m giving you the ultimate validation. You must be thrilled.” I picked up the half-eaten sandwich and dropped it into the trash can by my feet. Lennon paused, his hands freezing on his tie. “Camille. What is your problem?” I stood up, pulling a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe my hands. “No problem at all. In fact, I’ve prepared a massive surprise for you today, Lennon. I guarantee it will be an event you will never, ever forget.” He blinked, surprised, and then a smug grin spread across his face. “I knew you’d come around. Finally learning how to be a proper partner. Alright. I’m looking forward to it.” As we headed for the door, Gia squeezed past me in the entryway. The sharp stiletto heel of her shoe stepped squarely onto the toe of my pristine white pump. She left a dark, scuffed footprint right across the leather. “Oh! My gosh, Camille, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you standing there,” Gia gasped, covering her mouth in mock horror. Lennon barely glanced down. He sighed impatiently. “Out with the old, in with the new. Change into some flats anyway; you’re going to be working backstage all day. Heels are completely inappropriate for staff.” I stared at the ruined white shoe. Slowly, I slipped it off and laced up a pair of nondescript running sneakers. As I walked out, I pulled the penthouse key off my ring and dropped it silently down the storm drain by the curb. I headed for the Met. 5 The Global Heritage Exhibition was a media spectacle. Hundreds of journalists and live-streamers crowded the grand hall. Lennon had leveraged the full weight of Caldwell Enterprises to sponsor the event. He wanted to parade the antique diadem, and his future wife, in front of the world to drive up the company’s stock prices. In the backstage dressing room, Lennon knelt on the floor, adjusting the hem of my vintage silk gown. He looked up at my reflection in the vanity mirror. “Go out there, Camille. Tonight, the spotlight is entirely yours. Once you finish your presentation on the diadem, I’ll be waiting right in the front row.” His voice dropped into a smooth, practiced cadence. “I am going to give you a proposal that will make every woman on earth sick with envy.” Gia stood in the corner, her eyes red-rimmed and furious. “Lennon, I want to go on stage too! I helped bring publicity to the diadem!” Lennon held up a hand, silencing her. “Stop it. Tonight is Camille’s moment. This is about Caldwell’s legacy. You sit in the audience and behave. Do not cause a scene.” I looked at myself in the mirror. The pale, luminous silk draped elegantly over my frame. Around my left wrist, partially hidden by the sleeve, was a slender crimson silk cord—a quiet gift from Gideon Roth. “Okay,” I smiled softly at the mirror. Seeing my smile, the tension drained from Lennon’s shoulders. He looked incredibly satisfied. Moments later, I stood center stage. The spotlight isolated me in a pool of brilliant white. Beside me, secured beneath bulletproof glass, the sapphire diadem gleamed. I leaned into the microphone. The cavernous hall fell utterly silent. “This diadem has survived centuries,” my voice echoed, steady and clear. “It has been buried in dust, its gold fractured, its jewels lost to time. To restore it is not merely to bend metal or glue stones. It is an act of returning its dignity.” I looked down into the front row of the VIP section. Lennon was staring up at me, a proud, possessive smirk on his face. “But antiques have a soul,” I continued. “If placed in the wrong hands, even the most priceless jewel becomes worthless gravel. The true duty of a restorer is to ensure the artifact is returned to someone who truly understands its worth, someone who will protect it. In my profession, we call this ‘repatriation.’ In life, we call it ‘cutting our losses.’” Applause broke out across the room. Lennon was clapping the loudest, his chest puffed out, utterly oblivious to the double meaning. I turned my gaze to the glass case. “The diadem is now whole. Its fractured past is history. And in the spirit of this sacred moment of renewal, I would like to announce a very personal piece of news.” Down in the VIP row, Lennon practically vibrated with excitement. He adjusted his collar, reached into his breast pocket to pull out a massive velvet box, and slid one foot into the aisle, preparing to mount the stairs. I raised my left hand, the crimson thread stark against my pale skin. I looked past Lennon, addressing the microphone. “On this night of new beginnings… I would like to ask my fiancé—” “Will you come up here and place my true engagement ring on my finger?”

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One year ago, a cruel, calculated game tore twenty years of history to shreds. My supposed best friend, Melanie, hit a “Royal Flush” during a high-stakes poker night at the club. With a predatory smile, she pointed at the three men my father had hand-picked as my potential suitors and demanded they ghost me for an entire year. She called it a “litmus test for true love,” a way to see which of them was truly worthy of my hand. I had been standing in the shadows that night, my heart racing, fully expecting them to laugh in her face. Instead, they exchanged a single, chilling look and agreed in unison. Even when my father threatened to strip them of their positions in our firm, they remained cold. They told him—and me—that it was for my own good, that if I couldn’t handle a little “test,” I didn’t deserve to be a Blackwood bride. In that moment, watching them trample my dignity in the name of love, something inside me died. Fast forward to today. Those same three men are standing on my doorstep, brandishing their documents like trophies, their faces masked in a nauseating, entitled arrogance. They told me the “probation period” was over. They were here to offer me the “charity” of choosing one of them to marry. Looking at their smug, victorious expressions, I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I didn’t just chuckle; I let out a sharp, jagged sound that cut through the morning air. I stepped aside, ignoring the papers they tried to shove into my hands. My voice was as flat as a dead calm sea. “Excuse me. I have an appointment with my OB-GYN for a prenatal checkup.” … “Drop the act, Norah. You haven’t even had a man in your bed for a year. What prenatal checkup?” Hudson stepped closer, invading my space just like he used to. He leaned down, his voice a low, teasing rasp against my ear. “Though, I have to say, you’ve put on a little weight this year.” He let his gaze wander over me with a possessive heat. “It suits you. You look… riper. More womanly.” His chest brushed my back, his thumb ghosting over the skin of my neck. A wave of genuine nausea rolled through me, but it wasn’t the baby. It was him. I shoved him away with everything I had. “Don’t touch me, Hudson. Get back.” I instinctively shielded my stomach, my other hand trembling as I pointed toward the street. Hudson stumbled back, looking genuinely shocked. Behind him, Blake and Tatum both frowned, their brows knitting together in synchronized annoyance. Hudson adjusted his glasses, his tone shifting back to that of a rational adult explaining something to a difficult child. “The separation was necessary, Norah. It was meant to teach us all how to value you. The test is over. We’ve grown. We know how to love you better now.” The other two chimed in like a well-rehearsed choir. “He’s right. We thought about you every single day,” Blake added, his voice dripping with faux-sincerity. “We had to prove ourselves out there,” Tatum said. “It was hard, but it was all so we could stand beside you as equals, not just as your father’s proteges.” I looked at these three men—men my father had raised, mentored, and treated like sons—and felt a profound sense of desolation. Hudson had been my favorite once. He was the one who, years ago, would drive across three states in a blizzard just to bring me my favorite dessert when I was sad. When I was sick in high school, he stayed up all night outside my door, refusing to sleep until my fever broke. Blake was the intuitive one; he always knew what I was thinking before I even spoke. Tatum was the quiet powerhouse, the one who kept the family business running like a Swiss watch. He once looked me in the eye and promised that even if we never married, he would protect me until his last breath. But after that night at the club, they vanished. They didn’t just leave; they gutted us. They took my father’s proprietary trade secrets and used them to prop up Melanie’s startup. They leaked confidential files to prove they “didn’t need the family name,” nearly bankrupting us in the process. This past year, the company has been a sinking ship in a hurricane. My father’s heart gave out under the stress, landing him in the ICU for months. I was the one who stood on the deck alone. I was the one who kept the lights on. Hudson, seeing my silence, pressed forward again. His shadow fell over me, his warm breath fanning across my face. “That pregnancy comment… it’s just a move to get under our skin, right?” He glanced at my hand, still protective over my belly, and let out a dry chuckle. “If you really want a baby that badly, come to the courthouse with me now. I promise I’ll… satisfy that craving tonight.” I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth as I looked up at him. “You really think you’re the last man on earth, don’t you, Hudson? You think if I’m carrying a child, it has to be yours?” His smile curdled. A flash of genuine rage flickered in his eyes. “Norah. Watch your mouth.” I met his gaze, my expression icy and provocative. “I’m saying you have a wildly inflated sense of self-importance.” He lunged forward, his fingers clamping onto my chin like a vice. “We’ve explained this a dozen times! It was a test! We’re back now, aren’t we?” I wrenched my face away from his grip. “A year is a long time, Hudson. It was long enough for me to fire every mole in the company. Long enough to prune my social circle of every ‘friend’ who betrayed me.” I paused, letting the silence hang. “And it was more than enough time to find a better man for my bed.” “You—!” Hudson’s fist clenched, his veins bulging. He looked ready to explode, and I instinctively took a half-step back, shielding my abdomen. “Are you insane, Norah?” he hissed. “Do you have any idea why we did what we did? We went out there to build empires! We did it so people would know we weren’t just some pampered house-pets living off your father’s charity! We did it so we could claim you as men who earned you!” The tension was a physical weight between us, but it was shattered by the shrill ring of Hudson’s phone. He checked the screen and instantly let go of me. He hit speaker. Melanie’s voice came through, a high-pitched, hysterical wail. “Hudson? Blake? Is anyone there? Please, help me! I was at the casino… I won big against some guys, but they’re refusing to pay. They’re cornering me… they’re trying to pull me into a back room… they’re trying to touch me… Please!” The three men turned pale. The transformation was instantaneous. “Melanie, stay calm. Don’t let them touch you. We’re coming!” Melanie sobbed out a location, and the three of them turned toward the curb as if pulled by a single string. Before he dove into the car, Hudson shot a look back at me. “Melanie is fragile, Norah. Her safety—her dignity—is on the line. I have to go.” “We’ll finish this when we get back,” Tatum added. “Then we’ll decide which one of us is taking you to the courthouse.” I watched their taillights disappear, my hand resting on the slight curve of my stomach. My heart felt like a hollowed-out cavern. I remembered a night six months ago. My father was still in the hospital. To save the company, I was forced to attend a dinner with a group of predatory investors. They had plied me with drinks, their hands wandering where they didn’t belong. I had locked myself in the restroom, shaking, listening to them pound on the door, laughing, telling me to “be a good girl” and come back out. My dress was torn at the shoulder, my mascara was a ruined mess. In that moment of pure terror, I had called them. Tatum didn’t pick up. Blake blocked my number after the third ring. On the twentieth try, Hudson finally answered. In the background, I could hear Melanie’s melodic, carefree laughter. I didn’t care about the pride then. I just sobbed into the phone. “Hudson, please… help me. I’m at the Pierre… these men, they won’t let me leave… I’m scared…” Hudson’s voice had been like shards of dry ice. “Norah, don’t use ‘safety’ as a cheap trick to lure me home. It’s pathetic. We gave Melanie our word that we wouldn’t see you for a year, and we intend to keep it. Stop embarrassing yourself.” He hung up. Just as the door was about to give way, just as a greasy hand reached for me, a shadow had fallen over the room. A tall, powerful man had stepped in, draped his heavy cashmere coat over my shoulders, and carried me out of that nightmare. He was coming home tomorrow. ——– The driver dropped me off at the private wing of the hospital. I walked in alone, only to find the last four people on earth I wanted to see clogging the hallway. Melanie was slumped in a chair, looking “faint,” draped artfully across Hudson’s lap. Blake was arguing with a nurse about a prescription, and Tatum was carefully blowing on a cup of hot tea for her. Melanie spotted me instantly. She shrank into Hudson’s chest, then looked at me with a look that was pure, unadulterated venom masked by a pout. “Norah? Oh my god, what a coincidence. Are you here for a checkup too?” She touched her forehead, playing the victim. “I was so traumatized by those men at the casino. Hudson and the boys were so worried, they insisted on a full physical. But Norah… what are you doing in the Maternity wing? None of the boys have been with you all year.” She let out a gasp that was entirely too loud. “You didn’t… you didn’t get yourself knocked up by some random guy, did you? Are you trying to trap one of my boys into being a step-daddy for a mistake?” Blake walked over, clutching a slip of paper, his lip curling in a sneer. “Really, Norah? Melanie is literally shaking from an assault, and you’re here playing some disgusting pregnancy angle?” I stopped in my tracks, looking at the three of them. “Melanie,” I said, my voice cold and clear. “The child in my womb, regardless of who the father is, is the sole heir to the Blackwood estate. But what about you?” I let my eyes scan the three men surrounding her. “You spent a whole year ‘winning’ them. You tore my life apart to get them. And yet, after all that, not one of them has actually put a ring on your finger, have they?” I leaned in slightly. “Let’s call it what it is. You’re not a girlfriend. You’re just their collective hobby.” Melanie’s fake fragility vanished. Her face twisted. “How dare you! Hudson, did you hear what she said? She’s so cruel! No wonder you guys left her.” She turned her watery eyes back to me. “Even if they love me, it’s because you’re a bitter, cold woman. In a relationship, the one who isn’t loved is the real intruder.” I laughed, a sharp, dry sound. “Are you really bragging about being a three-for-one special, Melanie? Do you need me to draw up a shift schedule for you? It must be exhausting keeping all three of them ‘satisfied’.” Melanie’s face went scarlet. Hudson stood up abruptly, nearly dumping her on the floor. “Norah, shut your mouth!” He began wiping Melanie’s tears with his thumb, glaring at me. “She almost lost her dignity today, and you’re standing here insulting her! If you don’t apologize to her right now, none of us will ever marry you. Consider your ‘test’ failed.” Blake’s eyes were like daggers. “You’re a disappointment, Norah. Melanie took care of us this year while you were busy being a ‘boss.’ We finally saw how fake you are. You’re just a spoiled heiress using your father’s name to bully people. You don’t have a fraction of Melanie’s heart.” Tatum handed the tea to Melanie, his voice thick with disdain. “Norah, if this pregnancy thing is a joke, it’s in poor taste. But the way you spoke to her… apologize. Now.” They crowded around her, a wall of masculine aggression. I felt a pang in my throat, but I just smoothed my hand over my stomach. “If you think she’s such a saint,” I said, my voice steady, “then marry her. All three of you.” I turned to leave, but Hudson’s voice barked out behind me. “Norah, get back here! Who do you think you’re—” My phone buzzed in my pocket. Headline: [Baby, landing at 7 PM tomorrow. Be home soon.] Hudson grabbed my wrist just as a doctor stepped out of an exam room. The doctor looked at the chart and then at me. “Ms. Blackwood? Your results are in.” The doctor smiled professionally. “Everything looks perfect. You’re in excellent health for the second trimester. The baby is thriving.” Before I could speak, the rage on Hudson, Blake, and Tatum’s faces vanished, replaced by a bizarre, sickening sort of pride. “Norah… you were actually preparing your body? In secret?” Hudson stepped closer, his grip on my wrist loosening into a caress. His voice turned sickeningly sweet. “I knew it. I knew that even after a year apart, you were doing this for us. You were getting ready to start our family.” Blake actually smiled. “So that’s why you’re acting so tough. You wanted to see which one of us would be the best father, didn’t you? Trying to secure the ‘Blackwood’ future before you picked a husband?” As their attention shifted to me, Melanie’s face curdled. She gripped the armrests of her chair, her voice wobbling with fresh tears. “Norah… so you were ‘nesting’ this whole time? I… I didn’t mean to take them away from you today. It’s just… those men at the casino… one of them kicked me because I was trying to protect the gift I bought for you. It hurts so much… I think I’m dying…” The men’s eyes snapped back to Melanie. Seeing her “frail” state, Hudson’s anger redirected toward me. “Melanie, stop. You’re too good for this world. Even now, you’re thinking about a gift for her?” Blake’s face hardened. “Norah, don’t think that because you’re carrying a child for one of us that you get a free pass. You still owe her an apology.” Melanie sobbed, then looked up at me with a look of feigned sisterly concern. “Norah, I know you want the ring and the status, but you’ve hurt these boys. Just bow your head, say you’re sorry, and I’ll convince them to forgive you. For the sake of the baby.” She sniffled. “I’ll help you. I’ll tell them you didn’t mean it. Just apologize.” Hudson stood there, looking like he was granting me a royal pardon. “Norah, if you want to fix this and move forward with the wedding, do what she says. Apologize.” I looked at these three men—the men my father built from nothing. Once, they were my world. Now, they just smelled like rot. I let out a soft, mocking hum. “Do you three actually believe you’re that special? That I’d spend a year pining for you, preparing my body to bear your ‘legacy’?” I looked them up and down with visceral disgust. “I’m taking care of myself for the sake of my child. As for you three…” I let my gaze linger on Melanie. “You should stay with her. Honestly. A ‘Green Tea’ girl and three backstabbing lapdogs? It’s a perfect genetic match. Just don’t let the offspring out into polite society.” Hudson exploded, reaching for my collar. “Norah, you bitch—!” I stepped back, easily dodging him. “Melanie, you love picking through the trash, don’t you? Well, here’s your haul. Keep them.” I didn’t look back as I stepped into the elevator. The next afternoon, I put on my best silk gown. Tonight was the gala at the Pierre, celebrating the return of the head of the Blackwood-Vane conglomerate. Every major player in the city would be there. I arrived thirty minutes early. As I stepped into the ballroom, I ran straight into the quartet of nightmares. Hudson, Blake, and Tatum were surrounding Melanie like a palace guard. When they saw me, their faces darkened. “Norah? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hudson’s eyes were full of loathing. “You actually scammed an invite to a Blackwood-Vane event just to follow us?” Blake let out a harsh laugh. “The company is circling the drain, and you’re here trying to gold-dig? Did you realize we weren’t going to cave yesterday, so now you’re looking for a new target?” I ignored them and walked toward the lounge area. My morning sickness was hitting late today, a sharp wave of nausea rolling through my gut. I reached for a table to steady myself and gagged. Melanie’s eyes went wide. She let out a piercing, theatrical shriek. “Oh my god! Norah! Are you… are you actually sick?” The sound drew the attention of the surrounding elite. “You really are pregnant!” Melanie cried out, her voice carrying across the room. Hudson stormed over, grabbing my arm with bruising force. “You make me sick, Norah. That stunt at the hospital wasn’t an act? You were actually trying to find a fall-guy?” “You’ve got some nerve,” Blake spat. “We were gone for a year, and you spent that time jumping into bed with god-knows-who? And now you want to pin the ‘bastard’ on one of us?” Tatum waved over a security guard. “Get her out of here. This is a high-profile event. We don’t need a woman with this kind of… reputation… ruining the evening.” Melanie played the peacemaker again, her voice dripping with fake pity. “Boys, don’t be too hard on her. She’s desperate. Her father is failing, her company is gone… she just wanted to find a rich father for her mistake. It’s sad, really.” The whispers started. “Is that the Blackwood girl? Pregnant and looking for a victim?” “How scandalous. And she tried to trap those poor men?” The security guard reached for my shoulder. Hudson gave me a rough shove toward the door. “Get out. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” I stumbled, the nausea making my head spin, and I nearly hit the floor. Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the ballroom swung open. Twenty suited security personnel flooded in, forming a silent, impenetrable corridor. The room went dead silent. A deep, velvet voice cut through the air like a blade. “Who told you that child was a mistake?”

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The night before the confession, I received a hotel room number from my childhood friend. I thought there would be a surprise, so I rushed over with flushed cheeks. After entering the room, I saw him entangled in bed with a girl. Seeing me, he didn’t stop. In fact, he became even more intense. After finishing, he slowly climbed off the woman. He lit a cigarette, smiling carelessly through the smoke. “No hard feelings, I’m just tired of hiding. I don’t want to keep sneaking around with her anymore.” He paused, carefully pulling the blanket up to cover the woman. “Don’t worry, I’ll still show up for tomorrow’s confession.” “After all, you’ve been chasing after me for ten years. Who else would want you besides me?” “Tomorrow, everything stays the same, except…” “You get the title, she gets my body.” He looked at me mockingly, waiting for me to ask him why like I used to, all hurt and pitiful. I said nothing and turned to leave. The next day at the confession, I threw myself into his sworn enemy’s arms. “You get the title, and you get my body too.”

“She’s here, she’s here! Bella’s here!” “Bella and her ten-year childhood friend—the campus heartthrob—confessing their love! How romantic!” The field was packed with students, completely surrounded. Dylan loved his reputation and demanded that my confession to him be grand and spectacular. For this spectacular confession, he’d been hyping it up online for three months, attracting a huge crowd of onlookers. “Bella, how do you feel about confessing today?” “Bella, aren’t you worried Dylan might reject you?” I said nothing, slowly walking toward the center of the field. The confession was arranged on the sports field. Dylan stood in the center wearing last night’s clothes, his face carrying a confident smile of certain victory. This morning he texted me, saying seven rounds last night had left him a bit tired, so he might be late. I didn’t expect him to actually show up. I looked at him calmly. He was certain I couldn’t leave him. Our families were neighbors. I’d practically grown up following right behind him. Since childhood, whenever I threw a tantrum or cried, he’d threaten me that he wouldn’t play with me anymore. Until I obediently listened, letting him mold me however he wanted. This time was the same. I showed no reaction. He thought I’d compromised. Dylan’s good buddy, Nathan, looked at me with an ambiguous expression. “Bella, you actually came!” He laughed lecherously, slinging his arm around Dylan’s shoulder. “Bro, you’re not playing fair! You won’t teach your brothers this amazing technique for controlling women!” Another guy chimed in: “So jealous of Dylan! Seven rounds in bed last night, and today he still gets a confession from the campus beauty!” Several of them burst into laughter. Dylan, being flattered, was in a great mood, his lips curving upward. “Of course. She’s my little follower I’ve trained since childhood. How could she not be obedient?” A woman who’d followed behind him since childhood—if she didn’t listen to him, who else would she listen to? So this was how he saw me. Nathan looked at Dylan with admiration. I slowly walked toward the center of the field. Sunlight fell on my white dress, making me look like an angel. A flash of amazement crossed Dylan’s eyes. Dazed, he said, “My girlfriend is so beautiful.” Without thinking, he slowly began walking toward me. Before he could move, Dylan’s buzzing phone diverted his attention. Seeing the contact name, his lips unconsciously curved upward. He walked away a few steps to answer it. “You’re awake? Looks like I didn’t work hard enough last night?” On the other end, the voice was soft and sweet, carrying a mix of complaint and coquetry that stirred the heart. “I’m in pain… It’s all your fault. You were too rough this morning. I don’t care, you have to take me to the hospital!” Dylan softened his tone: “Alright, my fault, my fault. I’ll take you to the hospital right now for a thorough checkup!” Dylan chuckled softly and turned to leave. Nathan quickly stopped him: “Who is it?” “Yesterday’s little vixen.” Dylan put his phone in his pocket, his tone unconsciously affectionate: “I was too rough last night. The little vixen is in too much pain to take it. I’m going to check on her.” Nathan raised an eyebrow: “Today is Bella’s confession day. Teachers and students are all watching. If you leave, what about Bella?” Dylan was unconcerned. “What’s the rush? No matter how late it is, she’ll wait for me. A little while won’t make a difference.” “Sophia isn’t the kind of girl who throws tantrums. She must really not feel well.” “You just keep an eye on things here. It’ll be fine.” Thinking for a moment, he stepped forward and shoved a bouquet of flowers into my hands in front of everyone. “Take a photo and post it yourself to handle things.” Click—done. He yawned lazily: “That’s that. I’m taking Sophia to the hospital for a checkup first. You handle those people.” “Dylan.” I called out to him, saying calmly: “If you leave today, I won’t confess to you.” His steps paused. He turned to look at me. His dark eyes were unreadable, then he smiled carelessly. “In this entire city, who would want you besides me?” “Bella, you simply can’t leave me. Stop making a scene.” Before leaving, he tossed out casually: “My patience is limited. Stop making a scene. When I come back, the girlfriend position is still yours.” Dylan left quickly. His buddies exchanged awkward glances. Everyone looked at me uncomfortably. No one spoke. I looked up toward the direction Dylan had left, my lips curving slightly. Dylan, go ahead. Go comfort your Sophia. Then I’ll just change the male lead for this confession.

I slowly walked to the center of the field. Everyone was staring at me. The surrounding flowers and balloons were beautifully arranged. Students and teachers were all there too. Except for the male lead. Nathan caught up, forcing out a smile. “Um… Bella, Dylan has urgent business. He’ll be back in a bit. Don’t overthink it.” His other buddies also crowded around, trying to smooth things over. “Right, right! Dylan always has everything under control. Today’s your confession day—he’ll be here soon!” “Bro guarantees it—being with Dylan, you’ll definitely be the happiest woman in this city!” “Men are all like this, you know.” The guys went back and forth, making his scumbag behavior sound completely reasonable. I looked at my phone. It was now 11:50 AM. I smiled at everyone. “Of course I’ll wait for him to come back.” If he didn’t come back, how could he witness me leaving with someone else, and the fall of the Thompson family? There was still some time before the scheduled confession. I stood in the center, my eyes scanning across the entire field. The roses in the flower beds were ones Dylan had personally imported from abroad not long ago. The floating balloons were all pig-shaped ones I liked. The heart formation on the side was also designed by a top designer Dylan had personally hired. The scene was extremely romantic. This man liked to do everything to the extreme. In college, when pursuing me, he followed me to the lab for three months without complaint. Even for data and reports he didn’t understand, he put aside his pride to ask others for help, learning everything from scratch bit by bit. A high-and-mighty, unruly rich kid reforming himself for a woman. Even though he never formally confessed, I was willing to take the initiative to confess and go to him. But this man that every woman would dream of turned out to be a scumbag. No comfort, no explanation. He only left me with one option: obedience. My best friend Emma found me, angrily defending me. “He used to treat you so well, buying gifts more diligently than anyone. I thought he was a good man!” “I never imagined he’d betray you like this. And to think I told my arranged marriage partner to learn from him!” She opened her phone, showing me new social media content. [Little vixen is too clingy. She insists on one more round to cure her illness. Won’t let me leave unless I cure her. No choice but to satisfy her.] Below were comments from all his buddies. [Congrats, Dylan! Two women now!] [When Bella finds out, she’s going to make a scene. Dylan, have you figured out how to coax her?] Dylan quickly replied. [Like I said, body for Sophia, title for her.] He said it so matter-of-factly, not treating me like a person at all. I clicked into Sophia Turner’s social media—sure enough, she had new content too. In the photo, a man and woman were embracing, exposed skin covered in bruises and marks. On the bed behind them were scattered intimate clothing, and on the sheets, faint traces of their passionate aftermath could be seen. Caption: Stop it! I told you to be gentler with your treatment! I remained expressionless and took a screenshot. “Bella, don’t wait for him anymore!” “That pair of cheating dogs is disgusting.” Emma grabbed my shoulders, shaking me: “Bella, don’t be foolish! Toads with three legs are hard to find, but men with three legs are everywhere. Why hang yourself on one tree? Hurry up and cancel today’s confession and cut ties with Dylan!” “You could have been admitted without exams in senior year, but you chose to repeat the year to tutor that spoiled brat. You taught a complete idiot until he finally got into college just last month, wasting your precious youth!” “In college, you both started managing family businesses. The Thompson family went from loss to loss under his management. You stayed up late every night creating various proposals for him—that’s the only reason the Thompson family maintained its position today.” “Even when he was out partying and all kinds of scandals spread about him, you were the one who handled everything! Silly girl, wake up! You gave him everything, and what did he give you in return?!” Emma became more agitated as she spoke, her eyes moistening: “I don’t care anymore. If you confess to him, tomorrow I’m hanging myself at your bedside.” I gently comforted her, saying seriously: “Thank you, Emma.” “Don’t worry, I won’t be confessing to Dylan.” After comforting my best friend, I opened my dad’s chat. “Dad, I admit defeat.” Dylan really wasn’t worth it.

Dylan’s buddies gathered not far away. Drunk and loose-lipped, they said everything. “Dylan’s so lucky! Out there enjoying himself now, and tonight when he gets back together with Bella, he can keep enjoying!” “Bella’s personality is so easy to manipulate. Look at her—watching Dylan get seduced by a vixen without any reaction. She can really take it!” “Dylan’s born to enjoy life. Bros, work hard and learn from Dylan!” Emma couldn’t help but want to confront them. I signaled her to stay quiet, recorded the video, and continued watching the show. Good content should be shared with everyone. Nathan video-called Dylan. The call was answered instantly. Ambiguous sounds came from the other end. Dylan, breathing heavily, joked: “I’m treating my little vixen’s illness. You guys want to watch the whole thing?” Someone asked: “Dylan, aren’t you coming back? The students are getting impatient.” Dylan said irritably: “What’s the rush? Isn’t Bella there? She’ll think of reasons to explain for me.” “Right now I need to properly treat my little vixen’s illness!” I stepped forward and took a photo of their video call screen. Several guys instantly froze in place. Nathan quickly hid his phone behind his back, forcing out a smile. “Bella…” I interrupted him. “There are five minutes left until the confession time. Shouldn’t you all go find good positions to stand?” Nathan scratched his head, laughing: “Bella, you’re really underestimating Dylan!” I rolled my eyes at them and pulled Emma away. Nathan had no choice but to explain the situation to Dylan. Dylan was dismissive. “Five minutes? Is she kidding?!” Dylan scratched his head irritably. “You guys go over first. I’ll be right there.” Dylan’s fair-weather friends caught up with me and started making excuses again. “Bella, you’re the only one in his heart, but men, you know…” Emma kicked the guy who was talking. “Trash is trash. What excuses!” I remained silent. Ten-plus years as childhood friends—Dylan had been excessively good to me. If he hadn’t come clean, I would never have discovered he had someone else. To say I wasn’t hurt would be a lie, but I was grateful—at least we weren’t married yet. As for the option he left me, I chose to flip the table. The group arrived at the center of the field. It was already packed with people. A man walked toward me. I took the initiative to walk toward him and nestled into his arms. The smiles on Dylan’s buddies’ faces completely froze. The guests below had varied expressions. This confession wasn’t for Dylan?! On the other side, Dylan finished his last cigarette and got dressed. Sophia was wrapped entirely in the blanket, mumbling discontentedly: “Rushing, rushing, what’s the rush! I haven’t finished treatment yet…” Dylan smiled and pinched the soft flesh on her body. “Let me get through this formality, then I’ll come back and continue the treatment.” He opened his phone. A flood of messages poured out. Dylan paused slightly and clicked on the latest video Nathan had sent. In the video, I wore a white dress, not the least bit disheveled. Instead, I was smiling—calm yet radiant. I didn’t walk down the rose path Dylan had laid out for me, didn’t take the flower he’d casually shoved into my hands. Instead, I walked straight toward the front of the crowd. Standing there was a tall, imposing man with an aura of cold intensity.

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Everyone said that Mrs. Ashford from the elite circles was notorious for her vindictive nature. When her husband cheated, she found lovers too. Today a sweet young thing, tomorrow a college boy. After breaking up with her thirty-sixth boy toy, I asked Asher for a divorce. The man leaned lazily against the sofa, looking at me with a mocking smile. “What? Didn’t like last night’s guy?” “Then get a new one. Money is the one thing your husband has plenty of.” Looking at his indifferent expression, I suddenly smiled. “I’m serious. Let’s stop torturing each other.” “Once we’re divorced, you can make room for her, right?” Hearing my words, the amusement in his eyes faded, and his tone turned cold. “You went to see her?” In all the years since our marriage, countless starlets and models had been linked to Asher in tabloid rumors. But only I knew the truth. I knew those women were just a smokescreen to protect that girl. Her name was pretty—Lily. She hadn’t even graduated from college yet. Asher kept her hidden away, protected so well that the paparazzi hadn’t caught a single photo of her to this day. I had seen her before. Once, when I went to his company to find Asher. The girl had a round doll-like face and eyes like black grapes. When she smiled, her eyes curved into crescents. For a moment, I was transported back to seeing my eighteen-year-old self at the debate competition. An angelic appearance, but a domineering and willful personality. Outside rumors said Asher’s new favorite, whom he doted on endlessly these days, was kneeling on the floor putting on her shoes and socks, even cupping her hands to receive the chewing gum Lily had already chewed. The girl had a butler drive her to and from class back to the estate. When she wanted to go shopping, one phone call was all it took. Asher would pause meetings to accompany her. Even if he truly couldn’t get away, he’d keep a video call running—more clingy than college sweethearts. Whatever she wanted to eat, she just told the private chef. She even had a personal doctor and bodyguards by her side. Back when Asher wanted to marry me, he knelt all night in the Ashford family shrine. Even when threatened with being disowned, he didn’t back down. Later, under the full pressure of the Ashford family, he relied on ruthless methods and talent to rapidly build his own network in the business world, establishing his foothold. He also made quite a few enemies in the process. I was kidnapped. That experience was truly agonizing. There wasn’t a single patch of skin on my body that wasn’t bruised or bleeding. It hurt so much. Our first child was also lost during that incident. But when I saw the man’s bloodshot eyes, I comforted him: “Hey, maybe God just wants us to enjoy a few more years as a couple!” After that incident, he became even more vigilant. How ridiculous—using the lesson learned from my suffering to protect someone else. He couldn’t bear to let the girl suffer even a little. Everything had to be the very best for her. All the things I had or didn’t have over the years, Lily now had them all. Seeing my silence, his brow furrowed deeper. “She’s timid. She can’t handle being frightened.” I didn’t answer. I just calmly gestured toward the divorce agreement already signed on the table. “The cooling-off period is over. Come with me to the courthouse, and I’ll tell you where she is.” Over all these years, I had signed a thick stack of divorce agreements with him. But they always ended up going nowhere. Either he suddenly had a meeting, or he had to accompany Lily. But I didn’t want to keep dragging this out with him anymore. This marriage—I was cutting my losses. I couldn’t be like him. Watching him nervously make phone calls, I dug my nails into my palms. Good. No one answered on the other end. I was about to urge him on when my breath was suddenly stolen away. He pinned me to the floor, his hand around my throat. “Jade, she hasn’t bothered you at all. Why can’t you tolerate her?” We were so engrossed in our struggle that we didn’t notice the sound of someone entering the passcode at the door. “Are you deaf? Didn’t I say I want to make room for her?” He inexplicably grew angrier. “What right do you have to make room? Who do you think you are?” Psycho. In the chaos, my hand found a chair leg. I struggled to lift it and brought it down hard on his head. Blood trickled down the man’s black hair onto my neck. The blow made him stagger back a few steps before he steadied himself. I collapsed to the floor, exhausted, gasping for breath. “Try choking me one more time.”

That was the scene the girl walked in on. She screamed, then carefully helped the man up. “Baby, does it hurt…” Lily was heartbroken, tears welling up in her eyes, making the man tenderly wipe them away for her. He coughed lightly. “I’m fine.” The girl grew even more upset and tried to rush at me to scratch my face. “You crazy woman—” “I’ll bash you too if you come at me.” I quickly grabbed the bloody chair again to warn her, my tone mocking. “Don’t you know you’re the mistress? And now you dare to come to my door?” She hesitated slightly, realizing I might actually follow through. She retreated into the man’s arms, aggrieved. “Baby, she’s calling me a mistress!” “Why won’t you divorce her!” “Everyone says she’s so disgusting, sleeping with so many men.” Asher coaxed her while mocking me coldly. “Didn’t you want a divorce?” “Let’s go then, Mrs. Ashford.” On the way there, the driver said nothing. I sat in the passenger seat. For some reason, I thought of our wedding night. I had pressed the golden hairpin from my updo against his chest. “Let’s get this straight first.” “I’ve always been vindictive. If you dare to change your heart or cheat, I’ll find plenty of boy toys too.” “You’d better hide that little lover of yours well, or if I find her, I won’t spare her either!” He had laughed softly and kissed me. “I won’t give my wife that opportunity.” Now, he and his lover were all lovey-dovey. I quietly watched the scenery flying past the window. I didn’t hear clearly what they were saying. Nor did I notice Asher’s occasional glances my way. There weren’t many people at the courthouse, just one couple ahead of us. The woman pointed to the bruises on her arm, accusing: “He’s beaten me like this and we still can’t divorce?” The staff member was still trying to mediate: “Ma’am, this really can’t be used as evidence of a broken relationship…” As soon as they saw Asher, they immediately stood up to greet him. Money really can solve a lot of problems. See, even divorce has an express lane. No one dared say anything. The process went very quickly. “Satisfied?” The divorce certificate was tossed into my lap. Asher shoved past my shoulder and drove off with his girl in his arms. “Did you see that? That woman played around so much outside. I’ve been disgusted by her in the news for ages. Finally divorced.” “Sigh, married to someone so rich and still couldn’t stay faithful.” “I think she’s crying.” “Of course she regrets it. She ruined such a good life with her own behavior.” Everyone said I was shameless, finding lover after lover. Still clinging to the position of Mrs. Ashford, refusing to let go. Actually, I had thought about divorce a long time ago. The first time I found ultra-thin 0.01 condoms on Asher’s coat after a business dinner, I smashed everything in the house. He didn’t even glance at the divorce agreement. He just burned it. Then he bandaged my wounds and said with amusement: “I didn’t bring her in front of you. What are you angry about?” “Your grandmother’s condition isn’t looking good right now.” Later, he didn’t even bother coaxing me anymore. He just found men for me directly. I looked at him in disbelief. Seeing my reaction only made him laugh harder. He patted those men casually. “Don’t worry, they’re clean.” “Serve Mrs. Ashford well. If she’s not satisfied, I’ll hold you accountable.” One second we were divorced, the next second the news dominated the headlines. 【Finally divorced. I’d say she never had the fortune to enjoy such a life. Living in a mansion, eating bird’s nest, and still making trouble all the time.】 【She’s honestly the first person I’ve seen who finds lovers for herself just because her husband has a few mistresses. Such a vengeful personality.】 【Who knows if she’s riddled with diseases now hahaha.】 The comment section was filled with unanimous celebration. After seeing these comments so many times, they somehow didn’t hurt as much anymore. As I was about to scroll away, I accidentally clicked on a video Lily had sent me a couple days ago. The man sitting in the main seat was leaning lazily on the sofa, a girl in his arms. His temple wasn’t injured yet. It must have been from before. The girl was questioning him: “Why won’t you divorce her!” “I don’t want to be a mistress in the shadows forever!” He smiled and pulled her back to coax her. “Alright, alright, let me explain, okay?” “Jade has been an orphan since childhood. The only person she cares about is her grandmother. She’s not unreasonable. As long as you don’t go in front of her, she won’t be mean to you.” “At most she’ll hit me. She won’t lay a hand on you.” “Jade is traditional. She can’t accept an open relationship.” “Plus I understand her. She has clear loves and hates. She won’t do anything to you.” The man explained earnestly to her. “Look.” The screen showed my chat records with those men. From the first one to the thirty-sixth. Every single detail. So he knew all along. He knew I could never really be like him. My personality clearly wasn’t like this. Why did I become this way after marriage? Why, when I looked at those men sent to my bed, was my first reaction to run to the bathroom and vomit? Why couldn’t I, like Asher, naturally accept the deterioration of our marriage? Later I finally realized. Because I was faithful in relationships, and I couldn’t separate love from sex. I crouched on the floor, watching my tears fall drop by drop onto the bright red divorce certificate. Perhaps Jade, who had agreed to that young man’s proposal three years ago, never imagined they would end up in such a situation. Forget it. It’s all in the past. I supported myself against the wall and slowly stood up. At least I had saved enough money to leave with my grandmother.

A message popped up on my phone. “Jade, I almost forgot. Let me give you one more divorce gift.” She seemed to know I wouldn’t respond to her, so she directly made a video call. On the other end, Asher’s friends were discussing. “Asher, so you and Jade—” The man lazily lifted his eyelids to look at the speaker. Someone immediately elbowed him, and he urgently corrected himself: “You and your wife really got divorced?” The man in the main seat seemed to be thinking about something. After a long while, he finally curved his lips. “We won’t divorce.” The others immediately chimed in: “Right, everything is under our Asher’s control.” “Besides, where could she go without Asher?” Lily’s face paled slightly, but she still smiled and asked: “What do you mean?” “Little Lily, you don’t know yet. That medicine is addictive. Once you start using it, you can never stop for the rest of your life.” “It’s imported from abroad. Without Asher, she won’t last long.” Hearing this, the girl blinked. “Does Jade know?” “Of course she doesn’t know.” Everyone burst into laughter. My whole body felt like it had fallen into an ice cave, my brain buzzing. Everyone knew my weak spot was my grandmother. Although I was an orphan, I received just as much love as anyone else. Pretty schoolbags, pretty dresses—all sewn stitch by stitch by my grandmother. All these years, my tolerance of Asher was because he could provide my grandmother with the best treatment. I wiped away my tears, turned the car around, and headed to Cloud Nine. That was a club under Asher’s name. I had to get to the bottom of this. “Miss, you can’t go in without a reservation.” “Get out of my way!” My momentum was too fierce. For a moment, they didn’t dare stop me. “Isn’t that Mrs. Ashford?” “Seems like it, but didn’t they get divorced?” “The news broke this morning. Didn’t you see?” “She probably regrets it now. Went too far with her tantrums.” … “Jade? I’m over here.” “What did you mean in that video?” She leaned close to my ear and smiled. “Guess?” My emotions at their breaking point, I struggled to control my voice to sound normal. “Fine. I won’t ask you. Where’s Asher?” “You already hit Asher. Are you going to hit me too?” I didn’t immediately understand what she meant by that. Very quickly, I found out. She grabbed my hand and slapped herself across the face with it. In my moment of shock, someone grabbed my wrist and flung it away forcefully, without holding back at all. “Mrs. Ashford, even your tantrums should have limits.” I stumbled backward, my lower back slamming hard into the edge of a table. The pain was piercing. So he had been holding back when he fought with me before. The person I was looking for finally appeared. Asher suddenly scoffed mockingly. “Oh, not anymore, actually.” “What, having regrets?” His friends, hearing the commotion, also came out to mediate. “Ma’am, why make this so ugly?”

Before I could question him, the hospital called. “Is this Miss Rivers?” I sniffled and quickly answered: “What’s wrong?” “The patient has spontaneous pneumothorax. We’re preparing emergency treatment. Please come over.” “Wasn’t she fine before?” My heart sank. “I’ll be right there.” Someone gripped my wrist. I said urgently: “My grandmother is in trouble!” He lowered his eyes, his gaze indifferent. “That excuse won’t work.” “Apologize.” I didn’t have time to argue with him. I just wanted to leave… “Fine. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Can I go now?” The grip on my wrist didn’t loosen one bit. He laughed softly. “Just ‘I’m sorry’?” I looked at him in disbelief. Asher’s eyes were actually quite beautiful—slender phoenix eyes. I had looked at them for so many years, but this was the first time they felt so unfamiliar. All these years of love and hate seemed to condense into one word: fool. I was so stupid, to have loved him for so many years. More and more people gathered around. People from other private rooms also came out to watch the spectacle. “What’s going on?” “Seems like they got divorced and she’s not willing to accept it, so she hit that girl.” “Ah, she cheated on him herself and still has the nerve to get physical? How disgusting.” I didn’t. That’s not true. I wanted to say something, but when I moved my lips, only a choked sob came out. “Fine. I’ll apologize.” The next second, the dull sound of knees hitting marble floor echoed as I slapped myself hard across the face. “I’m sorry.” “From now on, I won’t appear in front of you two again.” No one expected me to kneel directly in front of Lily. Even Lily was stunned for a moment. My action was too quick. No one had time to react. After speaking, I supported myself against the wall, stood up, and turned to leave. I didn’t give anyone another glance. Everyone present could barely breathe. The atmosphere was oppressively terrible. No one dared look at that man’s expression. I drove toward the hospital. Because I was in such a hurry, the car even crashed into a railing. Warm blood slid down from my temple. I couldn’t wait for the elevator. I ran all the way up. Pedestrians hurriedly avoided me in fright. I couldn’t care about any of that. My high heels twisted my ankle. I just took them off and ran to the tenth floor carrying them. I ran straight into the attending physician coming out of the hospital room. Before I could catch my breath, I grabbed the doctor and asked: “My grandmother—” A nurse pushed out a hospital bed reflecting cold light. A withered hand hung down from under the white sheet, a very familiar red string bracelet around the wrist. I blinked slowly. The doctor removed his mask and sighed, lowering his eyes. “We were just about to notify you. We couldn’t save the patient.” I didn’t immediately understand what the doctor meant. My ears were ringing. I couldn’t believe it as I lifted the white sheet. My hands were shaking so much that it took several attempts. Those eyes that had always looked at me with a smile were now peacefully closed. I wanted to say something… My throat felt like it was filled with razor blades. Before I could even open my mouth, tears fell like blood. One after another in a continuous stream, drop after drop landing on the yellowed, sagging skin. “Grandma, does it look good! I made it for you!” “My Jade has such skillful hands. Grandma loves it.” Later, when I had some money, I bought her a big gold bracelet. The little old lady didn’t wear it: “Grandma likes what Jade made by hand better. It’s like Jade is always with Grandma…” “Grandma, I got into North Ivy University!” “I knew my Jade was the smartest! Got into the best university in the whole country!” Past moments of acting spoiled and playing around flashed through my mind like a film reel. “Miss Rivers!” “Miss Rivers, are you alright…” In the last moment before losing consciousness, an anxious figure ran toward me and caught me steadily in their arms. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling in a daze. From now on, I don’t have a grandmother anymore. Tears slid down from the corners of my eyes, tear tracks drying on my cheeks.

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The day I personally caught Tristan cheating in bed, Harbor City was hit by heavy rain. Nora was sitting on his lap, and he had his arms around her waist, smiling exactly the way he did when he was pursuing me all those years ago. After that, everyone said I’d lost my mind. I hired people to monitor him. If he came home five minutes late, I’d call the police. If he replied to work messages in the middle of the night, I’d grab scissors and threaten to castrate him. At first, Tristan would try to placate me. He knelt before me saying he was sorry, that it was a moment of weakness, that I was the only one he’d ever love in this lifetime. Until Nora fell down the stairs, her dress covered in blood. He signed that disciplinary agreement, his eyes cold and venomous. “Susie, you’re being very naughty. Nora is researching behavioral correction programs. Since you enjoy tormenting people so much, go there and learn to control that temper of yours.” “Learn how to be a proper, sensible Mrs. Kingsley.” Five years passed in the blink of an eye. The day Tristan came to the academy to pick me up, Harbor City was hit by another rainstorm. We hadn’t seen each other in years. When he looked at me, his eyes held scrutiny and a subtle satisfaction. The instructor beside me smiled and said, “Mr. Kingsley, you can rest assured. Miss Reed has learned how to be the most exemplary wife of an elite family.” I kept my eyes lowered, knees slightly bent. This was the standard posture the academy taught—never looking people in the eye, never standing with a straight back, always ready to assume a submissive stance. Tristan scoffed. “She’s certainly learned to put on a good show.” He wasn’t wrong. I really had learned well.

During the first month after being locked up, I hadn’t learned yet. Back then, I would cry, curse, bang my head against the wall, and scream Tristan’s name in the isolation room until my throat bled. Later, I stopped screaming. Not because I’d come to terms with it, but because electrical currents passed through my temples and I forgot why I was screaming in the first place. The instructor called it “behavioral cognitive correction.” It took me a long time to understand what that meant— It meant turning someone who could cry, make a fuss, and love into someone who couldn’t cry, couldn’t make a fuss, and couldn’t love. Actually, it wasn’t that difficult. After enough pain, you learn everything. In the car on the way back, Nora sat on Tristan’s lap. She looked at me, her eyes carrying that familiar concern—light and airy, like a cat appraising a mouse with its claws pulled out. “Susie, how were these past five years for you inside?” I stared straight ahead, hands resting flat on my knees. When I didn’t answer, Nora waited a moment, then her voice became even softer. “If you hadn’t hurt me back then, Tristan wouldn’t have gotten angry and sent you there. Don’t blame him.” Five years ago, I would have lunged at her and torn that mouth apart. But now I just sat there. Tristan glanced at me sideways, his tone turning cold. “Nora is talking to you. Did all that etiquette training go straight down the drain?” I still didn’t speak. Suddenly my chin was gripped, the force making my bones ache. Tristan forced me to look at him, familiar irritation in his eyes. “I told you to speak.” It hurt, but compared to having my mouth sewn shut at the academy, it was nothing. My mouth had been sewn shut three times. The first time was for talking back to an instructor. The second time was for crying out loud. The third time was for calling Tristan’s name in the isolation room. When the needle pierced through my lips, I trembled all over from the pain, but couldn’t make a sound. After they removed the stitches, I learned not to open my mouth carelessly. “Mr. Kingsley, you haven’t given me permission to speak.” I looked into his eyes, my voice soft. But Tristan froze. He stared at me for a long time, so long that even Nora’s smile grew stiff. Then he released his grip and laughed coldly. “Fine. Now you can answer Nora.” I turned my head and smiled at Nora—a standard smile, showing exactly eight teeth. “Miss Parker, I won’t be angry. You’re the only person Mr. Kingsley truly cares about.” I meant every word of that statement. At the academy, the instructors showed me photos of Tristan and Nora together every single day. In the photos they looked so happy, like a perfect couple. At first, when I saw them, I would feel heartbroken, tremble, want to tear the photos to shreds. Then electrical currents would pass through my temples, and I’d briefly lose all emotion. Over time, I stopped crying. The instructor called it “desensitization therapy.” I thought she was right. After seeing something enough times, it stops hurting. But for some reason, his expression grew even darker. He furrowed his brow, speaking through gritted teeth. “Susie, is this passive-aggressive tone your way of resisting?” “I’m not.” I lowered my head further. “I only learned… how to be a proper Mrs. Kingsley.” Tristan froze for a moment. Nora watched this scene from the side, her voice gentle. “Tristan, as long as Susie knows she was wrong, don’t be so harsh with her.” He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly laughed coldly. “Fine. I’d like to see just how long you can keep up this act!”

When we arrived at the Kingsley residence, a four or five-year-old child ran over. He hugged Tristan’s leg and looked at me with his head tilted. “Daddy, who’s this lady?” Tristan’s body stiffened. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his tone carrying a hint of nervousness. “Susie, this is the child you pushed back then. His name is Andy. He’s four years old now. Don’t be angry.” He was waiting for my reaction. Five years ago, I would have been angry. Nora had stood at the top of the stairs with her pregnant belly, smiling as she told me, “Susie, the one who isn’t loved is the real mistress.” I pushed her. Later, Tristan said I’d gone crazy and sent me to the academy. At the academy, the walls of the isolation room were covered with photos of Nora and that child. The instructor said those were the people I’d harmed, and I had to look at them every day until I learned to repent. I looked at photos of that child for five years. Now he was right in front of me, alive and real, able to run and jump, calling Tristan “Daddy.” I crouched down and touched his head. Hatred was too much of a luxury. It required too much energy, and I didn’t have that kind of energy anymore. “I’m not angry.” I looked up at Tristan, my voice calm. Tristan stared at me, his brow furrowing. He suddenly pulled Andy away, his tone stiff. “Since you’re not angry, let’s go inside for dinner!” I didn’t know what he was unhappy about. This was exactly what he’d wanted me to learn. During dinner, Nora placed a piece of fish on my plate. “Susie, the kitchen specially made this steamed fish. Eat more to nourish your body.” I looked at the snow-white piece of fish in my bowl. I was allergic to fish. When Tristan and I had just gotten married, I accidentally ate some fish sauce and had an immediate breathing difficulty. They had to resuscitate me for a full day and night. After that, fish never appeared on the Kingsley family’s dinner table again. Nora blinked. “Oh my, did I remember wrong? I thought Tristan said Susie loved eating this.” Tristan didn’t look up, busy peeling shrimp for Andy. “Just eat what she gives you.” I picked up my chopsticks. At the academy, I’d also resisted eating due to allergies. Until the instructor mixed various types of fish together into a paste and force-fed it into my mouth. I’d vomit and eat again, eat and vomit again, until I had a high fever and convulsions before they stopped. They said they were helping me desensitize. “Miss Reed, a perfect wife can’t make her husband accommodate her allergies.” I picked up the fish and put it in my mouth, chewing slowly. Physiological nausea surged up, but I suppressed it. One piece, two pieces. By the time Tristan noticed something was wrong, I’d already eaten more than half. He snatched away my chopsticks, his voice rising. “What are you doing? Susie, have you forgotten you’re allergic to fish?” I looked up. Red welts had already appeared on my face, and my breathing was becoming labored. “Are you insane?” He was both anxious and angry, speaking without thinking. “Even if you want to frame Nora, you don’t have to make it this obvious!” I looked at Tristan’s furious eyes, somewhat bewildered. “I wasn’t trying to frame her. I just thought… doing this would make you happy.” Tristan froze. His expression looked as if someone had slapped him hard across the face. On the way to the hospital, my consciousness was fuzzy. I vaguely felt myself being held tightly. That person’s heartbeat was racing, his voice trembling slightly. I remembered the first time I had an allergic reaction and needed resuscitation—Tristan had held me like this too. His eyes had been red then, and he’d said, “You scared me to death, you know that?” Back then, I believed him. I believed he truly loved me. Later, when I was kneeling at the academy, convulsing from electric shocks, I would occasionally remember that red-eyed Tristan. But after thinking about it for a while, I’d stop. Because the electrical currents would still pass through my body. The pain was still pain.

Half asleep and half awake, I heard Tristan confirming the emergency treatment plan with the doctor. I also heard him make a phone call to the academy. With obvious anxiety, he demanded, “Why has she become like this? What exactly did you do to her?” The voice on the other end was polite yet cautious. “Mr. Kingsley, this is normal. All of Mrs. Kingsley’s current behaviors might be an act. After all, just last month, she was still saying she wanted to kill Miss Parker…” I heard Tristan’s breathing hitch. I felt wronged. If this was all an act, then I’d be quite the impressive actress. The next evening, I was out of danger and Tristan took me back home. Due to the allergies and long-term malnutrition, I’d become extremely thin. The red welts on my neck still hadn’t faded. I must have looked quite pathetic. I’d just entered the living room when Andy ran over. He stared at the wounds on my neck, extending his chubby little hand to point at them. “Lady, does it hurt?” I looked at his innocent eyes and shook my head. “It doesn’t hurt.” At the academy, I’d had injuries a hundred times more painful, and I still had to smile and say they didn’t hurt. Andy took the opportunity to burrow into my arms, his warm little face pressed against my ear. “I know who you are.” His voice was so soft that only I could hear it. “After you came back, Mommy became very unhappy. Last night she even cried while holding me.” “You’re like those evil mistresses in TV shows, trying to steal Daddy from my mommy. Why don’t you just die?” “If you died, Daddy would belong only to Mommy.” I froze, feeling something like a tiny needle prick my heart. Not sharp, but lingering. Before I could react, Andy suddenly hugged my waist tightly and threw his body backward. We tumbled down the stairs together. In that moment of weightlessness, I instinctively held him in my arms, using my body as his cushion. When my body hit the floor, I felt like every bone in my body had shattered. “Susie, what are you doing!” An angry shout came from upstairs. It was Tristan. He rushed downstairs, pushed aside my injured body, and carefully picked up Andy from the floor. Andy burst into tears, trembling as he burrowed into Tristan’s arms. “Daddy, that lady pushed me! She said she hates me and Mommy!” Tristan’s movements stopped. He slowly turned to look at me, his eyes filled with the familiar disappointment and disgust. I tried to stand up using the floor for support, my back drenched in cold sweat from the pain. “I didn’t…” “Shut up!” He stood up, looking down at me. “Andy is only four years old. Would he lie?” “I thought you’d reformed over these years. Turns out it was all an act. Do you want to go back to the academy again?” I froze, my body trembling uncontrollably. Those mocking voices, the pain of being stripped naked and made to crawl like a dog—it all seemed to resurface. “No, don’t send me back.” I immediately dropped to my knees, pressing my head deep against the floor, begging him. “Don’t send me back there. It was my fault. I pushed him. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” If he said it was my fault, then it was. Five years had been enough to teach me how to apologize. As long as I admitted my mistakes, the punishment would always be lighter. Tristan remained silent for a long time—so long I thought I’d be dragged back and locked in that windowless isolation room again. Finally, he only said, “Lock her in the basement. Let her reflect properly. For the next three days, no one is allowed to let her out!”

I was shoved into the basement. The room was pitch black. I sat against the wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around my legs. At first, I was actually relieved by this punishment. I even leaned against the wall and dozed off for a while. Until, half asleep and half awake, it seemed like countless hands were reaching out through the darkness. They pulled at my clothes, pinched my chin, laughing as they said: “She’s so pale. Such delicate skin. How could Mr. Kingsley bear to send her to a place like this?” “What’s she shouting? For her husband to come save her? What a pipe dream.” The man’s breathing was heavy as he leaned close to my ear, laughing. “Face reality. Your husband sent you here to teach you obedience. Don’t you think he knows what you’re going through here? He just doesn’t care at all!” I buried my face in my knees. That wasn’t true. Tristan did care. He just… he just wanted me to become better. But had I become better? No. Andy said I was a bad woman, that I wanted to steal his daddy from his mommy. I hadn’t won the favor of my husband’s child. I hadn’t become a proper, sensible Mrs. Kingsley. I immediately knelt up, positioning my knees shoulder-width apart, assuming the repentance posture from the academy. Then I raised my right hand and slapped myself across the face. Hard. Once, then again, slapping until my mouth bled, my cheek swelled, and my palm went numb. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I didn’t protect the child properly.” “I upset Andy. I shouldn’t have put my husband in a difficult position.” For three days, whenever I woke up, I’d kneel and slap myself. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, dripping onto my knees. It was warm. When the basement door finally opened, I instinctively straightened my kneeling posture and lowered my eyes. Tristan saw the blood covering my face, his pupils contracting sharply. He stepped forward. “You…” Before he could finish, a servant carrying a basin of hot oil hurried past. She slipped, and that bucket of scalding oil poured straight toward Nora. Without time to think, I threw myself over Nora almost desperately, shielding her tightly beneath me. The hot oil splashed all over me. It hurt terribly. But I couldn’t care about the pain. I anxiously searched for Tristan’s eyes, hoping to see satisfaction in them. But there was none. He looked at me, his whole body trembling, his eyes reddening. I lowered my eyes in disappointment. Hadn’t I done well enough? But I didn’t have time to think anymore, didn’t have time to apologize to him and Nora. I passed out. Before losing consciousness, the last thing I heard was Tristan calling my name with a trembling voice. “Susie, Susie…” When I woke up again, Tristan was asleep leaning against the hospital chair, his brow furrowed, still holding my hand. His features were rarely this gentle—just like when he was pursuing me all those years ago. I was eighteen that year, still frying rice at the night market. To pursue me, he came every day to help me pack up. The day we got together, there was a drizzling rain. When we pushed the cart to the alley entrance, the rain intensified. We hid under the eaves, shoulders touching. “Susie.” He suddenly called my name, his eyes shining. “Will you be my girlfriend?” I was stunned. “Have you eaten so much fried rice you’ve gone stupid?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling, then lowered his head and kissed me. The sound of the rain was loud, his lips were soft, and he kissed me until I forgot to breathe. The smell of cooking oil mixed with rain-soaked earth became the entire fragrance of my eighteenth summer. Later, to marry me, his father punished him by making him kneel in the ancestral hall and take a beating. His back was lashed until the skin split open. I went to see him. He was lying on the bed, his shirt stuck to his wounds. When it was pulled off, it brought blood with it. I cried until I couldn’t breathe. He comforted me instead. “Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt.” “You’re lying.” “It really doesn’t hurt.” He gripped my hand, his fingers burning hot—he had a fever. “My father asked if I’d change my mind. I said no. He asked if I loved you. I said yes.” He looked at me, his eyes red. “Susie, you’re the only person I’ve ever loved in this lifetime.” I believed him. Back then, I really believed him. The curtains were blown by the wind. I moved my fingers, wanting to close the window. As soon as I moved, he woke up. He looked at me, opened his mouth as if to say something, but finally only said, “Let’s go home.” Go home. Was the Kingsley residence home? I didn’t know. But I nodded and said, “Okay.” Perhaps as a reward for saving Nora, Tristan treated me much better over the next few days. He had Nora thank me. When she stood before me and bowed, the smile on her face was stiff. I was flustered and quickly told her there was no need to thank me. Tristan watched all of this from the side, his brow relaxing somewhat. That night, he opened my bedroom door.

When the kiss fell, I accepted it docilely throughout, without dodging. He looked at my face, pale from pain, and laughed softly. “Looks like the academy really did tame that temper of yours. In the past, if I’d hurt you like this, you would have jumped up and kicked me.” He buried his head in the crook of my neck, his voice soft. “After all these years, you’ve finally learned to behave.” “Susie, as long as you stay obedient like this, the position of Mrs. Kingsley will always be yours.” “Later on, I’ll have Andy registered under your name. The three of us will be a proper family. Sounds good, right?” I looked at the ceiling. “Okay.” Whatever he said was fine. When the knocking sounded at the door, Tristan’s movements stopped. Andy stood in the doorway holding his pillow, crying hysterically. “Daddy, Andy had a nightmare. I want Daddy to sleep with me.” Tristan looked at me, but ultimately put on his clothes and stood up. “You sleep first. I’ll go check on the child.” The door closed. I sat up and simply cleaned up the blood between my legs. I encountered Nora when I went downstairs to get medicine. She stood at the top of the stairs, as if she’d been waiting specifically for me. Her gaze slowly moved from the marks on my neck to my face, lingering there for a long time. “You know, during the years you were gone, Tristan treated me very well.” Her voice was soft. “So why did you have to come back?” I didn’t have time to answer. She suddenly pressed a knife into my hand, then gripped my hand and stabbed it viciously into her own forearm. Blood spurted out, warm, splashing onto the back of my hand. “Tristan, save me…” When Tristan rushed out of the children’s room, I was still holding that knife. Nora lay in a pool of blood. Andy ran out barefoot, crying and calling for his mommy. “Susie, what are you doing!” Nora’s eyes filled with tears. “Susie, why do you want to kill me? Can you really not tolerate my existence?” It wasn’t me. She was the one who gripped my hand and stabbed herself. I opened my mouth. “It wasn’t me… She did it herself…” When the slap came, I turned my face away. Blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. I tasted rust. Tristan looked down at me, his eyes filled with familiar anger and disappointment. “You want to say she gripped your hand and hurt herself?” “Susie, even your lies should have limits.” He crouched down, gently lifting Nora, tearing off his shirt to stanch her bleeding. When he looked at me again, only coldness remained in his eyes. “Last time you saved Nora, I thought you’d really changed. I suspected the academy had treated you poorly, that you’d suffered wrongs. I sent people to investigate. I even regretted sending you there.” “But you—” He turned his face away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at me any longer. “Either go back to the academy, or just die! Susie, don’t force me to choose for you.” I froze, my body trembling with fear. I didn’t want to die, and I didn’t want to return to the academy. I didn’t want to choose. I looked at Tristan’s face anxiously and carefully—from his brow bone, eyes, to his tightly pressed lips—trying to find any sign of relenting. But there was none. He was serious. Seeing that I still hadn’t moved, he lost patience, his eyes cold as he ordered, “Take the lady away. Send her back to the academy. Tell them to discipline her properly! If they still can’t teach her—” Before the bodyguards could forcibly drag me away, my head was spinning and I stumbled toward the exit in a panic. All the rules and propriety I’d learned these past years seemed to vanish in that moment. In my panic, I seemed to trip over something. My knee split open and bled, but I didn’t care. I had only one thought: I absolutely could not go back there. Even if it meant death, I didn’t want to return to that place where even breathing had to be calculated. I didn’t want to be scrutinized like livestock again. And I didn’t want… to love Tristan anymore. Behind me, Nora groaned, as if the pain was unbearable. I only heard Tristan urgently call her name, soothing her. “Nora, hang in there. The ambulance will be here soon!” Andy stood barefoot on the floor, also crying out, “Mommy, Mommy!” Everyone was surrounding Nora. No one was looking at me. Outside was Harbor City’s night. Traffic was sparse. I walked along the road to the river’s edge. Below the bridge, the river water rushed violently. I climbed over the railing and took a step forward. Then I leaped!

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Two hours before the wedding ceremony, I watched my fiancé pin another woman down on the bed and kiss her. That woman was wearing my wedding dress. Three years ago, my ex-fiancé fled on our wedding day. It was Grayson Jones who charged into the banquet hall and took me away. He said he would never let me stand alone at a wedding again. I waited three years for this public ceremony. But just as I was about to deliver the vow card to him, I heard Sylvia Sterling’s voice through the crack in the door. “Do I look like today’s bride?” Grayson’s phone was lit up. He was sending me a message: I’m upstairs going over the program details. Don’t come up yet. He was kissing her while telling me to wait for him patiently. I stood outside the door and tore the vow card in my hands to shreds. This wedding. I’m not going through with it. Claire Carter POV Grayson and I got married three years ago, but today was finally my public wedding ceremony. Two hours before the ceremony began, I saw Grayson pin another woman down on the bed and kiss her. That woman was wearing my gown. This morning, the hotel’s top floor was filled with white roses. The sign outside the banquet hall was already set up, displaying both Grayson’s and my names. The makeup artist stood behind me, arranging the ends of my hair. My main wedding dress hung on the rack beside us. I’d tried it on seven times before finally choosing it. I sat before the mirror, looking at my reflection. The ring box rested beside my hand. Beneath it was a vow card I’d finished writing at two in the morning. I’d been waiting for this wedding for three years. Three years ago, Grayson and I decided to marry. But his family refused to hold a ceremony. They said my family had no power or influence, that a woman who’d been publicly rejected by her ex-fiancé didn’t deserve a grand wedding. Back then, Grayson had held my hand and said, “Claire, wait for me. Once we have the wedding, no one will ever be able to humiliate you again.” Last night, he’d sent me a message. “After tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. No one will ever be able to make you unhappy again.” I’d read that line over and over. I believed him. Three years ago, my ex-fiancé fled on our wedding day. All the guests laughed at me. Then Grayson charged into the banquet hall. He pulled me away from the cameras and the gossip. He’d said he would never let me stand alone at a wedding again. So today, I wanted to hand him the vow card personally. When the makeup artist went to get my earrings, I picked up the ring box and slipped out of the makeup room, avoiding my bridesmaids. Grayson’s groom lounge was on the same floor as the makeup room, just down the hallway from mine. When I reached the door, I heard a woman’s suppressed laughter inside. “Grayson, do I look good like this?” My steps stopped. The door wasn’t fully closed. There was a gap. Standing outside, I first saw a high heel lying on the floor, then saw the veil on the vanity table, and finally saw the wrinkled corner of the bedding. Sylvia was wearing my gown, the shoulder straps hanging loosely on her arms. That gown was one I’d personally selected. My initials were even embroidered on it. But now, Grayson stood behind Sylvia, lowering his head to adjust her shoulder straps upward. Sylvia tilted her face up to look at him. Her eyes were wet, as if she’d been crying, or as if she was seducing him. “Do I look like today’s bride?” Grayson didn’t answer. He simply lowered his head and kissed her. My hand gripping the ring box suddenly clenched tight. The corner of the box dug into my palm, the pain shooting numbness through my fingertips. My phone lit up at that moment. It was a message from Grayson. “I’m upstairs going over the program with the host. Don’t come up yet. Wait for me to come get you.” He was kissing Sylvia while telling me to wait obediently for him. Through the gap in the door, Sylvia seemed to hear something. Her eyes suddenly shifted toward the doorway. She saw me. But she didn’t hide. Instead, she smiled softly and reached out to touch the veil on the vanity table. The veil I was supposed to wear as I walked down the aisle. “Grayson, if she finds out, will she be angry?” Grayson’s voice dropped. “Don’t make trouble. Nothing can go wrong with the wedding today.” “What if she refuses to marry you?” Silence for a few seconds. Then I heard Grayson say, “She’s very sensible. All the guests have arrived. She won’t embarrass everyone.” That sentence felt like a hand pressing me back into that failed wedding from three years ago. I stared at the vow card in my hand. The first line read: Thank you for not leaving me standing alone at a wedding again. How pathetic. The sincerity I’d written with my own hand felt like it had been torn open and trampled on the ground. A staff member hurried up from downstairs. “Miss Carter, we still need to take your solo portraits. The coordinator is asking for you.” I didn’t push the door open. I didn’t charge inside. I didn’t ask Grayson why. I simply refolded the vow card, tucked it back at the very bottom of the ring box, then turned and walked back to the makeup room. The moment the makeup artist saw me, she smiled and said, “Miss Carter, you look wonderful. You’ll photograph beautifully.” I sat back down before the mirror. In the reflection, I wore a white wedding dress, my makeup clean, the diamond drop by my ear swaying slightly. Nothing about me had changed. Yet suddenly I felt like this wedding dress was something someone else had worn and discarded, making me feel dirty. The makeup artist picked up the veil, about to place it on my head. I raised my hand to stop her. My voice was soft. “Can we use a new one?”

Claire Carter POV When I asked to change the veil, everyone in the makeup room froze. That veil had been personally selected by Grayson. All the styling, all the photos, even the backdrop on the big screen had been designed around it. Changing it at the last minute wouldn’t just look bad. It would create unnecessary extra work. The makeup artist carefully tried to persuade me. “Miss Carter, Mr. Jones ordered this veil six months in advance. Today’s main dress can only be paired with this one.” I looked at that layer of white gauze. I thought of how Sylvia’s fingers had just slowly slid across its edge, touching it like a trophy. I felt sick. “I’m not wearing it.” The makeup artist didn’t dare try to convince me further and hurried to find the coordinator. As I adjusted my earring, I noticed a pearl hairpin missing from the jewelry tray on the vanity. That hairpin was supposed to match the veil. The day I’d tried on the dress, Grayson had personally placed it in my hair. He’d even said pearls suited me better than diamonds. Now the hairpin was gone. The coordinator rushed over, her expression even worse than the makeup artist’s. “Miss Carter, the backup veil and hairpin were sent upstairs earlier to test the effect. They haven’t been brought back yet.” I looked up at her. “Who was testing them?” The coordinator’s lips moved. “Mr. Jones’s side arranged it.” That told me nothing. A young assistant beside her blurted out, “That lady earlier looked really good in them. I thought we were doing two bridal looks today.” The makeup room instantly went dead silent. The coordinator’s face changed immediately as she turned to scold her. “What are you talking about!” The young assistant shrank back in fear. But I laughed. The laugh was light and faint. “Two brides?” The coordinator immediately tried to placate me. “No, no, it must be a misunderstanding, Miss Carter. I’ll have someone bring everything back right away.” I didn’t pursue it further. I just took the wedding program tablet. I’d only meant to check how many more procedures we had to go through. But the moment I opened the video materials, I saw a short clip from last night. In the video, Sylvia stood at the center of the ceremony platform, wearing my backup veil and holding my bouquet. Grayson stood below the platform, looking up at her. Sylvia smiled and asked, “If I hadn’t taken the fall for you back then, would I be the one standing here today?” Grayson didn’t deny it. He only said, “Come down quickly. Don’t let anyone see you.” Don’t let anyone see. After hearing that sentence, my fingertips grew colder bit by bit. So from last night, Sylvia had already been standing in my place. The platform, the bouquet, the veil. Even my room had been used by her. When Grayson came in, he happened to see the tablet in my hand. His steps clearly paused. I didn’t make a scene or throw anything. I just turned the screen toward him. In the video, Sylvia still wore the veil, smiling like a real bride. Grayson was silent for a few seconds before speaking, his voice deliberately low. “Sylvia was emotional last night. She just wanted to experience what a wedding felt like.” I looked up at him. “So my veil, my bouquet, my platform, my room. She can try them all?” Grayson’s brows furrowed. “Claire, she was rejected because of me years ago. People mocked her for years. Don’t use these words to provoke her today.” I looked at him, suddenly losing the energy to ask anything more. My wedding was being stolen. And Grayson was worried my words would upset Sylvia. He was always like this. Whenever Sylvia cried, he immediately made excuses for her. As for whether I was hurt, whether I felt wronged, whether I had to swallow things that had been stained. He never considered any of that. A light knock came from the doorway. Sylvia personally brought the backup veil back. She had the white gauze draped over her arm, her face full of apology, her eyes reddening the moment she entered. “Claire, I’m sorry. I just envied you too much and couldn’t resist trying it on. Don’t blame Grayson. It’s my fault.” She sounded so humble, as if I’d really bullied her. Before I could speak, she’d already turned to look at Grayson, tears falling. “I should just leave. Today is your wedding. I don’t want Claire to misunderstand us, and I don’t want to put you in a difficult position.” Grayson spoke up as expected. “Since you’re already here, stay for the ceremony.” Sylvia bit her lip and nodded. As she passed me, she turned her face slightly and said in a voice only the two of us could hear, “Claire, at least this morning, I was the one he held first.” The words were soft, but they pierced my heart like a knife. Outside, the wedding music had already started playing. My bridesmaids came in to urge me to change into the main dress. I looked at the returned backup veil but didn’t touch it. I picked up the pearl hairpin that had been returned with it. The hairpin still carried a perfume scent that wasn’t mine. I opened the drawer and threw the hairpin inside. Grayson stood at the door. Seeing I wasn’t making a fuss anymore, he visibly relaxed. He walked over and reached out to adjust my shoulder strap. “Claire, the ceremony is about to start. Don’t keep the guests waiting too long.” I looked at his hand in the mirror. That hand had been on Sylvia’s waist not long ago. I stepped back half a step to avoid him. Grayson’s hand froze in midair.

Claire Carter POV When Grayson’s mother, Helen, entered the makeup room, there wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face. She first glanced at me, then looked at Grayson, her voice deliberately low. “Everyone’s waiting for you outside. Why hasn’t the ceremony started yet?” The wedding coordinator’s forehead was covered in sweat. “Helen, the bride is still adjusting her veil.” Helen’s expression immediately darkened. “Stop wasting time on these trivial matters! The ceremony is about to start. All of the Jones family’s guests are here today. Claire, don’t keep everyone waiting!” I sat before the mirror, my shoulders still bare above the wedding dress. That gown had been worn by Sylvia. That veil had been touched by Sylvia. The pearl hairpin still carried her perfume. And Helen said I was the one wasting everyone’s time. I looked up at Grayson. Grayson didn’t speak up for me. He only said to Helen, “Mom, please go outside. I’ll handle this.” The door closed again. Only the two of us remained in the room. Grayson stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Claire, there can’t be any problems today. I’ll explain what happened this morning after the wedding ends.” I looked at him. “You want me to put on the dress and go out there smiling, even though I know what happened in that room?” Grayson’s brow furrowed tightly. “You’re already my wife. There’s no need to fight with Sylvia over these small things.” Wife. That word coming from his mouth felt like a dull blade slowly pressing against my heart. Three years ago, when my ex-fiancé left me standing at the wedding, everyone told me to just endure it. It was Grayson who took me away. He’d said, why should an innocent person bear the consequences of someone else’s mistake? Now he was the one pushing me back into that position. I opened the ring box and took out the vow card, holding it in front of him. “Read the first line.” Grayson glanced at me, then took the card. When he opened it and saw that line, his throat seemed to catch on something. I asked, “Can you still read it out loud now?” Grayson closed the card, avoiding my eyes. “Now isn’t the time to talk about this.” I took the vow card back from his hand. I tore the paper down the middle. The sound was soft, but it made Grayson’s face change color. I didn’t hit him. I didn’t cry. I simply pressed the torn card back to the bottom of the ring box, then handed the box to my bridesmaid. “Hold onto this. Don’t give it to the host.” The bridesmaid froze, instinctively looking at Grayson. I repeated, “Don’t give it to the host.” Outside, the host had begun speaking. Applause filtered through the door. The makeup artist placed the new veil on my head. This time, the veil hadn’t been touched by anyone else. But looking at myself in the mirror, I still felt like this wedding dress was suffocating me. Grayson stood behind me. Seeing I was finally cooperating, he visibly sighed with relief. He probably thought I would still endure it. He thought that, just like the past three years, I would swallow all my grievances for him, for the Jones family, for the perfect completion of the ceremony. When the banquet hall doors opened, the lights fell on me. The guests turned to look. Applause erupted instantly. Grayson stood at the end of the red carpet in his tidy suit, looking like a groom truly waiting for his bride. I walked forward step by step. My gaze moved past Grayson to the front row. Sylvia sat there. She’d changed into a different dress. The missing pearl hairpin was now pinned to her chest. That was my hairpin. Sylvia looked up and smiled at me, her fingers lightly touching the hairpin, as if reminding me. Even something this small, she could take. I reached Grayson. The host smiled and said, “The groom has finally waited for his bride.” Applause erupted again. Grayson extended his hand toward me. That hand had touched Sylvia’s waist this morning. Now it reached toward me, wanting me to continue performing in this wedding. I looked down at it for a moment but didn’t place my hand in his. I looked up at Grayson, my voice not loud but clear enough for the nearest rows to hear. “Are you sure the person you’ve been waiting for today is me?”

Claire Carter POV The host’s smile froze on her face. The applause on both sides of the red carpet gradually stopped. In the guest seating, it became so quiet only the music remained. Grayson’s extended hand hung in midair. His expression changed as he said in a suppressed voice, “Claire, don’t make a scene right now.” I didn’t look at anyone else. “I just need one answer from you. Is the person you’ve been waiting for today me?” Grayson’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t answer. He only said, “The ceremony has already begun. Let’s complete it first.” That phrase again. Complete the ceremony first, let the guests watch us perform first, let me continue being the sensible bride first. Helen walked over from the side, still smiling on her face but her voice cold and hard. “Claire, if you have something to say, say it at home. So many guests are here today. Don’t make everyone uncomfortable.” I looked at her. “Another woman was in my room, and I’m still supposed to smile through this ceremony?” Helen’s smile stiffened for a moment. Quickly, she lowered her voice again. “A truly sensible bride doesn’t put her husband on trial at their wedding.” Murmurs were already rising from the guest seating. “What’s going on?” “Does the bride not want to marry the groom?” “I think there’s something wrong with that woman in the front row.” Those voices drilled into my ears. The failed wedding three years ago had been just like this. No one asked if I was hurt. They only wanted to see if I would cry, if I would lose control, if I would become an even bigger joke. Grayson suddenly grabbed my wrist, trying to place my hand in the crook of his arm. His movement looked gentle, but the force was strong. It hurt so much I frowned, yet still I didn’t cooperate. Grayson said in a low voice, “After the wedding ends, you can ask me whatever you want. Not now.” I looked at him. “After the wedding ends, am I supposed to thank you for being willing to explain?” Grayson’s expression darkened, and he gripped my wrist even tighter. At that moment, a harsh scraping of a chair came from the front row. Sylvia stood up supporting herself on the chair back, her face very pale. The pearl hairpin on her chest swayed. She looked at Grayson, her voice trembling. “Grayson, I didn’t mean to sit here. I didn’t mean to make Claire misunderstand. If I’m causing problems for your wedding, I’ll leave right now.” After speaking, her body swayed as if she might collapse at any moment. Grayson barely hesitated. He released me and walked straight toward Sylvia. The force controlling me disappeared. My wrist hurt badly, but Grayson had already reached Sylvia’s side. “Where does it hurt?” His voice was urgent. Much more urgent than when he’d been coaxing me to complete the wedding. The entire venue fell completely silent. The lights still fell on me. But the groom was no longer by my side. Helen’s face looked terrible, but her first reaction was to have the host pause and have staff turn off the big screen. Someone said quietly, “Who the groom really loves is pretty obvious, isn’t it?” I stood in place. The veil on my head suddenly felt as heavy as a shroud. The host tried to salvage the awkward situation. “This guest isn’t feeling well. The groom is just helping to look after her.” Guest. I looked at the hairpin on Sylvia’s chest. A guest who had worn my gown, touched my veil, was wearing my hairpin, and could make Grayson publicly leave me at my own wedding. I raised my hand and slowly removed the veil. Grayson looked back and saw my movement. His expression immediately changed. “Claire, don’t!” I ignored him. I handed the veil to my bridesmaid, my voice calm. “I’m a bit tired. I’m going back to my room to rest.” The bridesmaid’s eyes were red with anxiety. “Miss Carter…” I’d already turned around. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t rush over to hit Sylvia. I simply walked step by step away from the wedding venue. Behind me, Grayson was supporting Sylvia. I knew he wanted to chase after me. But then I heard Sylvia say, “Grayson, I’m so dizzy… Don’t leave me.”

Claire Carter POV I returned backstage, closed the door, and finally shut out the lights from the banquet hall and all those mocking eyes. I didn’t cry. I just placed the veil on the vanity. The backstage screen was still connected to the wedding video system. The image was frozen on the moment when the ceremony had paused. I stood alone under the lights. Grayson was in the front row supporting Sylvia. The image was sickening. I watched it for a few seconds, then reached out and unplugged the connection cable. The screen went black. But at that moment, the door was pushed open. Sylvia walked in. The weakness from earlier had vanished from her face. The pearl hairpin was still pinned to her chest. She glanced at the darkened screen and laughed softly. “Unplugging the cable won’t help. Everyone already saw it.” I didn’t turn around. “Get out.” Sylvia walked to the vanity, her fingers trailing across the veil before touching the ring box beside it. “Claire, what’s the point of guarding these things? Can you stop Grayson from giving them to whoever he wants?” I pressed my hand down on the ring box. “Don’t touch it.” Sylvia’s eyes immediately reddened, and her voice rose slightly. “I was just trying to help you take the rings out so the wedding could continue. Why are you so nervous? Are you afraid the wedding can’t go on?” As she spoke, she suddenly grabbed my wrist and reached for the ring box with her other hand. She gripped hard, hurting me. I shook her hand off. Sylvia seemed to have been waiting for this exact moment. She stumbled backward and knocked into the video equipment rack beside her. The rack fell, the screen crashed to the floor with a sharp sound. Sylvia clutched her arm, tears flowing immediately. “Claire, even if you’re angry, you can’t push me… The wedding video is ruined. What is Grayson supposed to do?” Footsteps rushed in from outside. Grayson and Helen arrived almost simultaneously. Grayson saw Sylvia clutching her arm with the shattered screen at her feet. His expression immediately darkened. Sylvia was crying so hard she could barely stand. “I just wanted to take the ring box out to let the wedding continue. Claire refused, and she pushed me…” I looked at Grayson. “She grabbed for the ring box. She knocked the equipment over herself.” Grayson didn’t ask me why Sylvia had been touching the ring box, nor did he ask why the equipment rack had fallen. He only stared at me, his voice frighteningly cold. “Are you determined to ruin today?” I was stung by that sentence into laughing. “Who exactly ruined today?” Grayson clenched his teeth. “Stop saying such ugly things.” I looked at him and asked coldly, “Am I supposed to put the dress back on, take the ring she tried to steal, go outside and smile at the guests. Is that what counts as being sensible?” Grayson didn’t respond. Helen was already trembling with anger. “Claire, have you lost your mind? After what you just did out there, you’re going to hurt people backstage too?” Sylvia cried even harder. “Grayson, I should just leave. I really don’t want to make things difficult for you…” Grayson seemed crushed by that sentence. The next second, he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. The slap was heavy. My face jerked to the side. My ear rang. Soon I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth. Backstage fell silent. Grayson froze after the slap as well. His hand remained suspended in midair. His first words weren’t an apology. “Calm down.” I slowly raised my head. I saw the panic in his eyes, and also saw the anger. Three years ago, when I was left standing at the wedding, Grayson had shielded me from the cameras, saying no one had the right to see me in that state. Now my humiliation had been delivered by his own hand. I didn’t cry. I raised my hand to wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth and closed the ring box. Grayson’s voice finally dropped. “I didn’t mean to. Too much is happening today. Don’t push me.” I looked at him. “Are you going to wait until after the wedding to explain this slap too?” Grayson’s face went pale. I handed the ring box to my bridesmaid. “Keep this safe for me.” Then I turned and went into the backstage restroom. The moment the door closed, I slowly slid down to sit on the floor, my back against the door. Outside, people were still calling my name. I pressed my hand against the side of my face where I’d been hit. My fingertips wouldn’t stop shaking.

Claire Carter POV I stayed in the restroom for a long time. The people knocking on the door were first the bridesmaids, then the makeup artist, and finally Grayson. His voice came through the door, much lower than before. “Claire, come out first. We can cover the injury on your face with makeup, and we can simplify the ceremony. The guests have already been settled.” Hearing these words, I suddenly found it laughable. He didn’t ask if I was in pain. He didn’t say the slap was wrong. He was only considering whether this wedding could still continue. I opened the door. Grayson saw my swollen cheek, and something flickered in his eyes. He reached out to touch me. I turned my head away. His hand stopped in midair. “I was too rushed earlier. Sylvia injured her arm, and Mom kept pushing me. I lost control for a moment.” I asked him, “So if I say I lost control, can I hit you now?” Grayson’s expression darkened. “Don’t let this spiral out of control.” Helen had someone bring ice packs and concealer, her tone like she was dealing with a soiled wedding dress. “No one outside knows what happened backstage. Go out and interact with the guests, then complete the ceremony.” I looked at her. “As long as the guests can’t see the injury, we can pretend it never happened?” Helen sneered coldly. “Since you’ve already married Grayson, you should know when to endure.” Grayson stood beside her and didn’t contradict her. Watching his silence, the last of my resolve crumbled. The wedding program was changed. The host told everyone I wasn’t feeling well, so the program would be simplified. Staff quickly removed the vow platform. The big screen that was supposed to display our handwritten vows was replaced with a generic congratulations image. I stood backstage, watching that screen go dark. After a while, Sylvia came again. Her arm was wrapped in gauze, her face pale, yet she still had to stand next to Grayson. “I should really leave. Claire isn’t in a good mood today. If she gets angry again in a bit, everyone will be uncomfortable.” After hearing this, Grayson turned to look at me. “Don’t say anything you shouldn’t during the ceremony.” I didn’t agree. I picked up my bag. “This wedding ends here.” Grayson’s expression changed drastically. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. I already had an injury there. When he pressed on the wound, the pain shot numbness through my fingertips. “All the guests are outside. You can’t leave now.” I couldn’t break free. I could only look up at him. “I’m not your toy, and I’m not this wedding’s toy either.” That sentence completely provoked Grayson. He dragged me toward the banquet hall. My knees were already weak, and the wedding dress train was so long. I stumbled and fell. My knee hit the ground first. The edge of a step scraped my calf open. Blood quickly seeped through the gauze skirt. All the staff around us paled. My vision went black. I braced my hands on the floor, unable to stand for a long time. Grayson also froze, instinctively bending down to help me up. But at that moment, Sylvia called out softly, “Grayson, my arm hurts so much…” Grayson’s movement paused. He looked back at her first. His action made me completely lose hope. I supported myself on the steps and stood up on my own, not accepting his belated hand. The white wedding dress dragged across the floor, stained with blood. I pulled the train down from the steps, my voice very soft. “The wedding has nothing to do with me anymore.” I turned and walked outside. Grayson tried to follow, but Helen stopped him. “The guests are still outside, and Sylvia is injured too. She’s emotionally unstable right now. Let her cool down.” Grayson stood in place and ultimately didn’t chase after me. He only told an assistant, “Follow her. Don’t let anything happen to her.” I reached the end of the hallway and heard that sentence. I paused. Even now, he still thought I was the one who would cause trouble. I turned my head and saw a videographer walking by with his gear. I spoke directly. “The wedding video backup. Give me a copy.” The videographer froze. I raised my still-swollen face. “Now.” Half an hour later, I sat in a car outside the hotel. My knee hurt so badly I was trembling. My face hurt too. The lawyer on the other end of the phone said the divorce agreement could be drafted tonight, and the joint account Grayson and I shared could be processed simultaneously. I looked at the wedding sign outside the car window. The sign still displayed both Grayson’s and my names. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, my voice was steady. “Take me to the villa.” After hanging up the call, I opened Grayson’s chat. I archived it. I changed his name from “My Love” back to just Grayson Jones.

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Three years ago, I went to the old building site for Xavier. I pushed his brother out of the way and got trapped under the rubble myself. My left leg was ruined, my lumbar spine injured, and my career destroyed. But in these three years, all Xavier remembers is Mandy trembling whenever it rains. How she cried about nearly dying in that old building. Meanwhile, dragging my injured leg, I became the “villain who torments people with the past.” She took my heating blanket, occupied my rehabilitation room, and even ruined the restoration plan I’d spent three years working on with a single glass of water. I finally realized. There was no place for me in his heart anymore. So I stopped waiting. I put my wedding ring and house keys in an envelope. I slipped the family risk waiver among a pile of compensation documents and placed them in front of Xavier. He signed. Three days later, a car from the Rescue Research Bureau picked me up at 3 AM. This time, I’m the one outside the rubble, watching him fail to catch up.

Charlotte’s POV Three years ago, Xavier was supposed to go to the old building site for final inspection. Mandy called him, crying that the debts from her family were suffocating her, begging him to come over. Xavier changed course at the last minute and called me, asking me to go to the old building in his place for one last check. I went. That building had been abandoned too long. Old materials were still stuck in the walls, and several workers were inside moving things. I’d just noticed cracks in the west load-bearing wall when I ordered everyone to evacuate immediately. But it was too late. When the building collapsed a second time, Adrian was trapped near the most dangerous wall. I rushed over and pushed him out of the way. I was the one who got crushed underneath. When they pulled me out, my left leg was covered in blood and my lumbar spine was injured. The doctors saved my life, but they couldn’t save my future. After that, I couldn’t stand for long, couldn’t run, couldn’t go back to fieldwork. When the weather turned rainy, my old injury felt like someone was hammering nails into my bones. Mandy had only been on the outer perimeter that day, getting her arm scratched by debris. But in these three years, what Xavier remembered was that Mandy trembles whenever it rains, that she cries about nearly dying in that old building. Meanwhile, dragging my injured leg, I became the one who handled things improperly and traumatized people. Another rainy day. I sat on the single sofa in the living room, my left leg stiff and aching. My support brace lay at my feet. I bent down to fasten the buckle, my fingers trembling with pain. There was movement at the door. The driver brought Mandy inside. She wore my heating blanket draped over her shoulders and had on the soft slippers I kept by the entrance, leaning against Xavier’s side. “The rain outside is too heavy.” Mandy’s voice was soft. “Whenever I hear rain, I think of the sound of the old building collapsing.” Xavier immediately helped her sit down. He turned and saw me still fastening my brace, his brow furrowing. “Stop fussing with that leg of yours.” He said. “Get Mandy some water.” I braced myself against the sofa to stand up. The moment my left leg took weight, my knee buckled. I fell back onto the sofa, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Xavier’s expression darkened immediately. “The doctor said long ago that you can live normally.” He stared at me. “Don’t use your leg as an excuse every time I need you to do something.” Mandy quickly grabbed his sleeve. “Xavier, don’t talk to Charlotte like that.” Her eyes reddened slightly. “She was injured that day too. Maybe she’s really in pain.” Injured too. Those four words from her mouth were as light as a speck of dust. Three years of not being able to walk normally, reduced in her mouth to just “injured too.” I didn’t argue. I braced myself against the armrest and stood up again, not letting myself fall this time. Xavier reached out as if to help me, but Mandy suddenly clutched her chest and drew in a sharp breath. “I feel a bit suffocated… probably still afraid of the rain.” Xavier withdrew his hand. He turned to help Mandy, his tone softening. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” I bent down to pick up the brace myself. The strap scraped against my old injury and my vision went black with pain. When Xavier looked back, he only saw me bowing my head, slowly tidying up. His voice grew colder. “Mandy hasn’t been able to sleep well whenever it rains these past few years. You should know that.” I looked up at him. After a moment, I asked, “What temperature for the water?” Xavier seemed blocked by my calm question and paused. “Whatever. Just don’t make a mess.” Mandy followed behind, wearing that heating blanket, softly reminding me. “Charlotte, don’t make it too cold. I can’t drink cold water.” I walked toward the kitchen step by step. My left leg dragged on the floor, each step heavy. Steam quickly filled the kitchen. I leaned against the counter for a long time, waiting for the shooting pain in my leg to pass before continuing. Mandy stood in the doorway watching the water, then suddenly spoke. “I still dream about that day three years ago.” I didn’t turn around, just adjusted the temperature lower. Mandy took a step forward, lowering her voice. “I dream about the wall collapsing, dream about you not listening to advice and insisting on going in to show off.” My hand paused. Mandy spoke again. “Have you ever thought these past years that if you’d been more careful that day, I wouldn’t have ended up like this.” Footsteps sounded outside the door. Mandy immediately lowered her eyes, her fingers gripping the doorframe, looking like she’d just been bullied. Xavier came in, first checking her expression, then looking at me. He didn’t ask what Mandy had said, only saying. “Hurry up. Don’t keep the patient waiting.” I turned off the heat and poured the water into a cup. The cup was too hot. My wrist trembled and water splashed onto the back of my hand. My skin immediately turned red. Xavier saw it and only frowned. “You can even make a scene out of pouring water.” I pushed the cup onto the tray without touching the burn. That night, I returned to my room, my leg hurting too much to sleep. The brace lay beside the bed, the strap still stained with water from the kitchen. My computer screen glowed with an email at the top. A preliminary approval notice from the Rescue Research Bureau, sent three minutes ago. They approved my post-accident field assessment report and required me to submit supplementary materials within three days. Subsequent procedures involved long-term overseas deployment, communication restrictions, and family risk confirmation. After reading the email, I took the heating blanket that Mandy had worn during the day from the chair back and placed it at the bottom of a cardboard box. Then I dragged out the file folder from the old building accident three years ago and placed it on my desk. Rain still hadn’t stopped outside the window. I filled in the first line in the supplementary materials section. Outside the door, Xavier’s footsteps as he walked Mandy upstairs gradually grew closer.

Charlotte’s POV Early the next morning, I went to the hospital alone. My left leg had been hurting since last night, and I couldn’t straighten my back. Someone passed by outside the examination room pushing a wheelchair. The sound of wheels rolling over the floor made me briefly lose focus. The doctor looked at the scan and pushed the report in front of me. “The old injury hasn’t worsened, but there’s no room for improvement either.” I looked up. The doctor continued. “Normal daily life is fine. But standing for long periods, running, entering dangerous sites, or high-load walking. None of that is suitable.” He paused, then added. “If the Rescue Research Bureau wants you doing rear analysis and route assessment, you can manage. But if you want to return to fieldwork, this leg won’t allow it.” I picked up the report, my fingers pressing against the paper’s edge. “If I persist with rehabilitation, is there any chance of recovering enough to enter field sites?” The doctor didn’t respond immediately. He rehung the scan on the light board, the white light illuminating the bone shadows clearly. “Miss Charlotte, don’t gamble with this leg.” I folded the report and stuffed it into my bag. As I left the examination room, I steadied myself against the wall, but quickly stood on my own. When I returned to the house, no one was in the living room. I wanted to put the report back in my room first. Passing the walk-in closet, I found the door open. My usual robe was gone. The braces in the drawer had been rifled through, spare support bands tossed on the floor. I bent down to pick them up, a sharp pain shooting through my side. Mandy’s laughter came from upstairs. I held the stair rail and went up. The bedroom door was half open. Mandy stood in front of the mirror wearing my robe, the sleeves casually rolled up. My brace sat on a chair beside her, pushed aside like some eyesore. Mandy saw me and looked surprised at first, then said softly. “Charlotte, you’re back? I couldn’t sleep last night and grabbed a robe without realizing it was yours.” I walked over and reached for the brace. Mandy immediately clutched her chest and stepped back half a step. “Don’t come in so suddenly. I just calmed down and you’re scaring me.” Xavier came from the other end of the hallway, first steadying Mandy. “What’s wrong?” Mandy shook her head. “It’s nothing. I took the wrong robe and Charlotte might be upset.” I held the brace in my hand. “This is my rehabilitation equipment. It can’t be touched carelessly.” Xavier glanced at the brace, his face already showing impatience. “The house is so big. Mandy just moved in and isn’t familiar yet. It’s normal to take the wrong thing.” His voice turned cold. “You don’t need to corner her in the room over something so trivial.” I said. “The support band is deformed. It’ll affect my walking.” Xavier’s eyes swept over my leg. “You’re not going out to run projects anymore anyway. Going one day without it won’t hurt.” One sentence, reducing my three years of rehabilitation to useless struggling. Mandy lowered her head to unbutton the robe, her eyes reddening first. “Then I’ll take it off right now and give it back to Charlotte.” She moved slowly, as if being forced to humiliate herself in public. Xavier pressed down on her hand. “Keep wearing it.” After speaking, he turned to look at me. “You wear something else.” I looked at that robe. It was what I often wore when my old injury flared up, fabric that had pressed against my numb leg countless times. Now on Mandy’s body, it was as if even my last trace in this house had been tried on by someone else. I said nothing more and went downstairs with the brace. There were already two suitcases outside the rehabilitation room door. I pushed the door open. The handrails were still inside, along with the equipment I used every day to practice walking. Documents from the old building accident were scattered on the desk. Supplementary materials I’d been organizing last night. I put the brace back in place and opened my computer to continue writing. The Rescue Research Bureau required me to supplement details of my on-site assessment from three years ago. When I wrote “before the second collapse, cracks had appeared in the west load-bearing wall,” my hand paused. That day before I pushed Adrian away, I did hear Mandy screaming on the outer perimeter. But Mandy was far from the collapse point. Footsteps sounded at the door. Mandy had already changed back into her own clothes and stood at the doorway. She saw the words “old building accident” on the screen and her expression immediately changed. “Why are you still digging through these things?” I closed the computer. “My materials.” Mandy stepped back, her voice trembling. “Are you determined to drag everyone back to that day? You know I feel terrible when I see these things.” Xavier was quickly called over by her. Mandy leaned against him, her hands still shaking. “I just came to apologize to Charlotte, but I didn’t expect to see these old building materials. When I saw them, I thought of the wall collapsing that day, thought about how I almost died.” I stood by the desk, the computer already closed. I looked at Xavier. “She was on the outer perimeter at the time.” Xavier’s expression darkened. “Are you still distinguishing who was inside and who was outside?” I said nothing. Xavier took a step forward, his voice heavier. “No wonder Mandy hasn’t been able to move on these years. You were injured too. You should know better than anyone how terrifying that day was.” Mandy tugged at his sleeve, saying softly. “Xavier, stop it. I don’t mind being wronged a little.” Xavier didn’t stop. “She just took the wrong robe and touched your brace, and you put on this attitude.” He stared at me, saying word by word. “You owe Mandy for what happened at the old building.” I stood leaning against the desk edge without responding. The computer screen went black, reflecting my left leg hanging at my side.

Charlotte’s POV I’d been working on an old building restoration plan for three years. After the accident at that old building, the barriers were never removed. The cracks in the walls remained, and families of injured workers never truly dispersed. Some moved away, some demanded compensation, and some still brought flowers to the ruins every year. Unable to return to fieldwork, I sat in the rehabilitation room, bit by bit organizing old blueprints, lists of injured people, compensation gaps, and subsequent renovation plans. I wanted to convert that ruin into a rehabilitation center. Xavier didn’t know about this. Whenever he saw the words “old building,” he would frown and say I was dredging up old accounts to provoke Mandy. That morning, I printed out the plan, preparing to mail it to the head of the Rescue Research Bureau. I went to the kitchen to heat some water. When I returned, the rehabilitation room door was open. Mandy stood at the desk, her water glass tipped over beside her. My printed plan was completely soaked. The pages stuck together in a clump, ink bleeding out. The injured persons list and renovation diagrams were blurred beyond recognition. I stopped in the doorway. Mandy frantically grabbed tissues to wipe it up, her voice trembling first. “Charlotte, I was just trying to tidy your desk. I didn’t expect the glass to tip over… I start shaking whenever I see anything about the old building.” I walked over and picked up the top page. The paper had gone soft, the logo in the bottom left corner completely ruined. Tears quickly fell from Mandy’s eyes. “I really didn’t do it on purpose. You know I’m most afraid of the old building, yet you spread these things all over the house.” I looked at her. “Why did you come into the rehabilitation room?” Mandy’s crying paused for a moment, then became even more aggrieved. “I just wanted to get the shawl I left here last night.” The shawl was on a chair by the door, far from the desk. When Xavier came in, I was peeling apart the soaked plan page by page. The pages were stuck too tightly. The slightest touch would tear them. Mandy went to him first. “Xavier, I’ve caused trouble… I saw the old building materials and my hand slipped, knocking over the water glass. Charlotte seems really angry.” Xavier swept his eyes over the desk full of wet papers, his brow furrowed. He didn’t ask what those papers were, only asking me. “Why did you take out old building materials again?” I said. “The restoration plan. I’ve been working on it for three years.” “Three years?” Xavier’s expression grew worse. “Instead of properly resting your leg these three years, you’ve been clinging to that accident every day. No wonder there’s no peace in this house.” I set aside the torn diagram. “That ruin can’t just sit there rotting, and the people injured that year still haven’t been properly settled.” Xavier cut me off directly. “Don’t use those words to pressure people.” He shielded Mandy behind him, his voice cold and hard. “Mandy gets scared just seeing old building materials. You spread this stuff around the house, frighten her like this, and still want to lecture people?” Mandy said quietly. “Xavier, I can’t repay Charlotte for three years of hard work.” Hearing this, Xavier became even more impatient. “It’s just some worthless papers. You don’t need to repay her.” I looked up at him. “Do you know how many injured families are in this plan?” Xavier paused, then quickly looked away. “If you really want to compensate those people, first learn not to keep provoking the living person in front of you.” My hand still pressed on the wet paper, my fingertips covered in spreading ink. I didn’t ask anything more. Xavier said. “Apologize to Mandy.” Mandy immediately tugged his sleeve. “Forget it, Xavier, I’m fine…” Xavier looked at me. “She just moved in. Her physical and emotional state are both unstable. You can’t keep scaring her with old matters.” I looked down at that pile of ruined plan. “I’m sorry.” My tone was flat. Mandy froze, as if she hadn’t expected me to back down so quickly. Xavier also frowned, the reprimand he’d prepared stuck in his throat. I turned to get a garbage bag and loaded the soaked papers in stack by stack. Xavier stood in the doorway without leaving. Mandy tugged his sleeve, saying she felt dizzy. Only then did he help her leave. After the door closed, the rehabilitation room grew quiet. I sat back at the desk and opened my computer. There was still a backup in the cloud. I redownloaded it and checked the attachments. Then I packaged everything. The injured persons list, renovation diagrams, risk assessment tables, and field assessment notes. The director had sent an email this morning urging me to submit supplementary materials. I uploaded the compressed file and wrote in the notes: The old building restoration plan can serve as proof of on-site assessment capability and may also be referenced for future assignments. After sending successfully, a receipt quickly appeared in my inbox. I picked up the last small piece of wet paper from the desk and threw it in the garbage bag. Only half a line remained on the paper: Rehabilitation Center Preliminary Plan. Upstairs came the sound of Xavier coaxing Mandy to rest. I closed the rehabilitation room door and began organizing the remaining materials in the cabinet.

Charlotte’s POV At breakfast, Mandy cradled a mug of hot water, dark circles under her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the old building collapsing.” Xavier had the servants change her to a guest room. But Mandy shook her head. “The guest room is too dark. That room at the end of the hall has good lighting and handrails by the door. I’d feel safer there.” That was my rehabilitation room. I put down my knife and fork. “There’s rehabilitation equipment and old building materials inside. It can’t be used as a bedroom.” Mandy immediately lowered her head. “I was just making a suggestion. I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” Xavier looked at me and said directly. “Move your things out.” I reminded him. “That room is where I practice with my leg every day.” Xavier set down his chopsticks. “You’ve been practicing with that leg for three years and this is all it amounts to. Going without the room for a few days won’t make it worse.” I got up and went to the rehabilitation room. I dismantled the wall-mounted handrails. When I bent over, my side hurt so badly I had to lean against the desk edge to recover. Mandy stood in the doorway, softly saying she could stay elsewhere, but her words never strayed from how this room had good lighting, was close to Xavier at night, and how someone could hear her if she got scared. Xavier walked in and saw me moving slowly, frowning. “Don’t dawdle.” I put the braces into a cardboard box. “These can’t be touched carelessly.” Xavier didn’t even look closely. “Mandy won’t touch your junk.” Mandy immediately said quietly. “I’m afraid of breaking Charlotte’s things and having her blame me again.” Xavier immediately said to me. “Take the important materials too, so there won’t be problems later that get blamed on Mandy.” I loaded the old building materials into boxes stack by stack without responding. Adrian came upstairs from below, holding a package. He saw me holding old building materials and stopped. “Organizing that accident from three years ago again?” Before I could answer, Mandy stiffened. Adrian looked down and saw the old building floor plan peeking out of the file folder, his brow furrowing. “I keep dreaming about that wall lately.” Xavier’s movements stopped. Adrian clutched the package, his voice hesitant. “I dream about someone pushing me out from underneath.” The hallway suddenly went quiet. Xavier looked at him. Adrian continued. “That person seemed to be…” Mandy’s cup knocked against the doorframe with a sound. Her face went pale as she held onto the doorframe saying. “Xavier, I’m dizzy.” Xavier immediately went to help her. Adrian wanted to continue but was interrupted by Mandy’s gasping. Xavier looked back, his tone dropping. “Don’t bring up old matters here. Go back to your room and rest.” Adrian looked at him, then at me, and finally went downstairs clutching his package. I pressed the floor plan back into the file folder and continued packing boxes. The rehabilitation room quickly emptied. After the handrails were removed, only a row of screw holes remained on the wall. Braces, support bands, old building materials, and my computer were packed into two boxes that I pushed to the end of the hallway. Mandy sat by the window wearing that heating blanket, saying softly. “This room really is more comfortable than the guest room.” Xavier had the servants move a bed in and told me. “Don’t stand blocking the doorway.” I leaned on the boxes to drag them out, my left leg lagging several steps behind. Xavier watched me, seeming like he wanted to say something, but finally only reminded me. “Don’t dirty the stairs.” I dragged the boxes back to the bedroom and opened the Rescue Research Bureau email page. The official notice had arrived. Supplementary materials approved. The next step required my current spouse to sign the family risk waiver. After confirmation, I could enter closed review. I sat on the floor and separated the two boxes of materials again. Old building accident materials, rehabilitation records, and restoration plan backups on one side. Marital property documents, old building compensation details, and family risk waiver on the other. I tucked the risk waiver into the middle of the property settlement materials, then folded the pages so only the signature line showed. Downstairs, Xavier had the servants change Mandy’s bedding. Mandy asked in the rehabilitation room. “Can the curtains be changed to a lighter color? I’m afraid of darkness.” Xavier said. “Change them.” I heard it. I sealed the document envelope and put it in my bag. Then I placed the rehabilitation room key on the desk.

Charlotte’s POV That night, I received a call from the Bureau director. He said my old building restoration plan and field assessment materials had passed preliminary review. Especially my assessment of changes in the west load-bearing wall before the second collapse. It was very useful for the dangerous building early warning model. I glanced at the door and lowered my voice. “What else is needed going forward?” The director explained the process clearly. After entering the Rescue Research Bureau, I would be deployed overseas long-term. Mission sites would mostly be in collapse zones, post-disaster buildings, and overseas dangerous building sites. Communications would be managed uniformly by the Bureau. Family members couldn’t contact freely. Once review began, personal itinerary and files would be protected. I gripped the phone and asked. “Will my leg be grounds for rejection?” The other end paused for a few seconds. “The Bureau doesn’t only need people who can run into sites.” The director said, “We also need people who can assess before an accident happens. Where will collapse, how to evacuate, which routes to use for entry and exit.” My hand moved to my left leg. That leg had hurt for three years. Finally someone was saying I wasn’t useless. The director continued. “The next step requires your current spouse to sign the family risk waiver. After signing, family members have no authority to interfere with deployment during missions, nor can they demand termination of closed management based on marital status.” “How long?” “Three days. After that the slot moves to the next candidate.” I said. “I’ll handle it.” As soon as I hung up, the door was pushed open. Xavier stood in the doorway. “Who were you talking to?” I minimized the email window. “About the old building compensation.” Xavier’s expression immediately turned cold. “Mandy just moved in. The house should avoid mentioning the old building.” I put down my phone. “I’ll handle it all cleanly as soon as possible.” Xavier walked to the desk and flipped through the stack of old building compensation details. “Planning to use money to make a point again?” I didn’t deny it. “Some old debts need settling.” Xavier sneered. “You’re best at playing the victim these years. If you really want to settle things, Mandy should get a share too.” I followed his lead. “That’s fine. The compensation can be divided with her, she can keep using the rehabilitation room. As long as the documents get signed clearly afterward.” Xavier had been about to lose his temper, but hearing this he stopped instead. He stared at me, as if trying to see whether I was making trouble again. I handed him an ordinary settlement form. “No rush. When all the materials are ready, we’ll sign together.” Xavier glanced at it without looking closely and tossed the paper back on the desk. “If you’d been like this earlier, there’d be a lot less trouble in this house.” After he left, I reorganized the documents. On top I placed the old building compensation division form. In the middle I tucked the rehabilitation room usage confirmation, personal property transfer list, and family risk waiver. At the bottom I placed a draft commitment to no longer pursue the matter with the family after the old building accident. Every page was real. Xavier would just see the pages he wanted to see first. I attached sticky note tabs to each signature line. Downstairs, Mandy called Xavier, saying the rehabilitation room was missing a bedside lamp. Xavier had the servants buy a new one. I tucked the last risk waiver back into the envelope. In the early morning hours, the Bureau sent supplementary mission details. It listed several collapse zones about to be assessed, plus a risk sample for overseas old city renovation. I read through it line by line, opened my field assessment notes, and marked several similar structures. My left leg still ached, everything below the knee going numb in waves. I didn’t take painkillers. I scanned my notes into the computer and put them in the same folder as the electronic copy of the risk waiver. I renamed the folder: Materials Before Leaving. Near dawn, the rehabilitation room door at the other end of the hall opened. Mandy asked Xavier to watch the sunrise with her. I closed the computer. The document envelope was already in my bag.

Charlotte’s POV On the third day, the rain fell even harder. My leg started hurting early in the morning, and I couldn’t straighten my back. I’d planned to give Xavier the documents before he left for work, but Mandy was calling from the rehabilitation room early saying she was cold. Xavier didn’t go to the office and stayed in the room to keep her company at breakfast. I stood at the top of the stairs and watched him cool Mandy’s milk for her, then separate her pills one by one onto a tissue. That desk used to hold my rehabilitation records. Now it held Mandy’s aromatherapy diffuser, cups, and snack boxes. I didn’t go in. I put the envelope back in my bag and turned to go downstairs. The painkillers were in the living room table drawer, still several steps from the sofa. I held the stair railing and went down. When I reached the table, my left leg suddenly gave out. I braced myself against the sofa and bent down to pull the drawer, only to find it locked. The key used to be right on the table. Now it was gone. I looked up and called to Xavier. “Help me get the spare key.” Xavier leaned out from upstairs, his face full of impatience. “What now?” “The painkillers are in the drawer. My leg hurts badly.” In the rehabilitation room, Mandy coughed softly. Xavier glanced back, then turned around again. “Find it yourself. Mandy just took her medicine. Don’t disturb her.” I said. “The key is missing.” Xavier’s voice turned cold. “With so many people in this house, your medicine is the most troublesome.” I leaned against the table for a while, then went to the entrance cabinet to find the spare key myself. Halfway there, my left leg suddenly seized up. I crashed into the corner of the cabinet, my knee hitting the floor hard. A dull thud sounded in the entryway. Xavier finally came down from upstairs. His first glance went toward the rehabilitation room. “Did Mandy get scared?” Mandy stood at the doorway wearing a cardigan, saying. “I’m fine… Charlotte seems to have fallen.” Only then did Xavier see me kneeling on the floor. He walked over, frowning. “You can even fall looking for a key?” I said. “Leg cramp.” Xavier didn’t help me up. “Stop making yourself look like this, as if the whole family owes you.” I braced myself against the cabinet door and slowly stood up. My knee was scraped, a bit of blood seeping through my pant leg. I reached for the spare key. Xavier saw the blood and his expression shifted slightly. Mandy suddenly held onto the doorframe, her voice weakening. “Xavier, I heard that sound just now and thought of the old building that day. My heart is racing.” Xavier immediately went to help her. “Go back and sit down.”I got the keys and opened the drawer myself, taking out the painkillers. My hand wasn’t steady when pouring water. The pills dropped onto the floor. Xavier passed through the living room helping Mandy and saw me crouching on the floor picking up pills. He only said. “Don’t dirty the floor.” I picked up the pills into a tissue but didn’t take them. After the living room grew quiet again, I threw those pills in the trash. I didn’t treat the wound or look for new medicine. I returned to my room and took out the envelope I’d prepared long ago. The old building compensation division form was on top, the rehabilitation room usage confirmation and personal property transfer list pressed in the middle, and the family risk waiver tucked in the back half of the stack. I rechecked each signature line, then placed the page showing Mandy could receive compensation in the most prominent position. Upstairs, Xavier was coaxing Mandy. “I won’t let you hear that kind of noise again.” I fastened the envelope and placed it by the door. When Xavier came downstairs, I would hand him this envelope of documents. I could leave him soon.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “398765”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Growing up in New York, I decided to move to Texas for Ashley, and my parents completely cut me off. “That girl is an orphan, what could she possibly offer you? You’re just setting yourself up for a lifetime of misery! If you leave now, don’t you dare come back!” Five years. I watched Ashley steadily climb to become one of Texas’s top psychologists, and she eventually gave me the home she promised. As Christmas approached, I planned to take her back to meet my parents. But right before boarding, she abandoned me again for a male patient suffering from severe depression. She let go of my hand, her eyes fractured. “Jackson, he’s just like I was back then… helpless and alone. If I don’t go, he really will kill himself! I’m so sorry, just this once. I’ll take the very next flight to find you…” She turned and ran towards the exit, without a second thought. I stood there, staring at the two tickets to New York in my hand. It turned out she saved everyone who needed saving, but time and again, she left me behind. Slowly, I tore up her ticket. Then, I walked towards security alone, switching off my phone. Ashley didn’t know that some journeys home, once missed, are gone forever.

I returned to my New York home alone. Mom opened the door. The moment her gaze fell on the empty space behind me, her eyes filled with a flicker of heartache. Dad sat on the sofa, his back ramrod straight, yet radiating a profound weariness. I couldn’t help but recall Mom and Dad’s words from five years ago. Now, I was back, like a defeated soldier. I turned my phone on and off; Ashley’s unread messages and missed calls practically blew up my phone. “Jackson, I’m so sorry! Wait for me!” “His condition is stable, I’m buying a ticket right now!” “Please answer, I beg you, let me explain!” I didn’t reply to a single one. My heart felt frozen, cold and hard. I remembered three years ago, when she snuggled into my arms, sweet-talking me: “Jackson, I, Ashley, will never let you down in this lifetime.” Now, those vows had melted away like snow. Ashley arrived late the next evening. Gone was her usual elegance, her eyes sunken, stubbornly waiting below my building. “Jackson… just five minutes, please, five minutes…” Her voice was hoarse, almost broken. My parents, their faces stern, didn’t let her in. She held up her phone, the screen’s light illuminating her pale face. “Look! The referral agreement! I’ve officially transferred Lucas to Dr. Pete! All his contact info, deleted, blocked!” She swiped the screen, her fingers trembling violently. “I was an idiot! I lost my mind! I shouldn’t have left you! Jackson, I can’t live without you…” She brought up the year we lived in the basement, when the heating broke down in winter, and she held me, warming me with her body heat. She spoke of working herself to the bone, just to give me a decent home sooner, so I could hold my head high in front of my parents. “Jackson, all my efforts were for you, for our future…” Suddenly, mid-sentence, her face changed. She covered her mouth and rushed to the nearby green space, dry-heaving. When she came back, her face even paler, I looked at her flat stomach, and a thought flashed through my mind like lightning. “You…” My voice was dry. She looked up, her eyes tear-filled, and nodded, her hand instinctively protecting her abdomen. “Almost two months… Jackson, we’re having a baby.” Looking at her bloodshot eyes and the hand protecting her stomach, my heart was intensely squeezed. For these past five years, and for this unexpectedly arriving child. I heard my own voice, utterly exhausted. “Ashley, this is the last time.” Under the profoundly disappointed gaze of my parents, I returned to Texas with her. On the plane, she clutched my hand tightly, as if holding a treasure she’d thought lost forever. But as I looked at the sea of clouds outside the window, my heart felt empty. This forgiveness, I realized, was a gamble on my last shreds of hope, and an innocent life.

In the half-month after returning from New York, Ashley became incredibly cautious. She took care of all the housework, came home on time, and reported every little detail. She bought pregnancy guides and prenatal education books, and in the evenings, leaning against the headboard, she’d caress her still-flat stomach and read stories in the gentle voice she used as a psychologist. “Our baby will definitely be the happiest child in the world.” Her eyes sparkled, just like they used to. But shadows, they always followed. Her phone started receiving missed calls from unknown numbers. She’d glance at it, annoyed, then hang up and block the number. “It’s probably him, using different numbers. He’s like a persistent shadow.” She explained, but a flicker of something imperceptible crossed her eyes. Then came burner account requests on social media, validation messages pouring out his heart: “Dr. Ashley, I know I shouldn’t disturb your happiness, but without you, my world is bleak; I can’t even pick up a paintbrush…” She rejected the request right in front of me, but her fingertip lingered on the message for a moment. That day, after her prenatal check-up, the baby was healthy, its heartbeat strong. I tried to immerse myself in the slight joy of becoming a father, walking out of the hospital arm-in-arm with her. Her phone rang again. It was Dr. Pete, Lucas’s new attending physician. “Dr. Ashley, sorry to bother you. Lucas is severely resistant to treatment. He mentioned some… details about his childhood abuse that only you know, which are crucial for diagnosis. Could you perhaps…” Ashley walked aside, speaking in a low voice for a long time. When she returned, her forehead was deeply furrowed, and her face looked troubled. “Work stuff?” I asked, that flicker of joy in my heart shrouded in a thin mist. “Yeah, just a minor issue.” She tried to put her arm around me, but her arm felt stiff. That night, I woke up thirsty, and the space beside me was empty. A faint light came from the living room. Ashley sat on the sofa, staring at her phone screen, her fingers gently caressing her stomach, her face pale in the glow of the screen. It was Lucas’s Ins burner account, updated just ten minutes ago: “If the care was fake, what was the warmth before? This world might as well plunge into complete darkness.” She was so engrossed that she didn’t even notice me approach. In that moment, I suddenly remembered my junior year of college when I had acute gastroenteritis, vomiting and diarrhea. She had watched over me then, staying up all night. But now, she was watching over another man’s sorrowful ramblings. A strong sense of unease settled in my heart.

Lucas’s condition unfolded like a meticulously orchestrated play. One scene after another, constantly pushing my limits of endurance. Ashley’s phone became an alarm bell that only rang for him. And each ring, it seemed, drained her physically. Late at night, Lucas suffered drug side effects, struggling to breathe. Ashley answered the phone, soothing him in a low voice for nearly an hour. After hanging up, her face was pale, and a dull ache pulsed in her lower abdomen. I was terrified and wanted to call an ambulance, but she forced a smile and said she just needed rest, stubbornly refusing to go to the hospital. In the early hours, Lucas experienced paranoid delusions and panic attacks. Ashley grabbed her car keys, ready to leave, but I blocked the doorway. “Have you forgotten the doctor said you need bed rest? You can’t be stressing yourself out in your current condition!” She looked at me, her eyes full of struggle. “Jackson, he’s a high-risk patient… I can’t just stand by and do nothing. Just this once, I’ll be back soon.” When she returned, her face was drawn with exhaustion, and there were faint red stains on her pants. She weakly explained that she was just tired, telling me not to worry. My doubts and unease were interpreted by her as a lack of empathy and a misunderstanding of her profession. “Jackson, you used to be so kind, why can’t you be understanding now? This is my responsibility.” She looked at me, her eyes filled with weariness and a hint of disappointment. Because I was kind, I deserved to watch her repeatedly put herself and our child in danger for others. Finally, she offered to accompany me to a long-awaited art exhibition as a form of compensation. As soon as we reached the exhibition hall entrance, her phone rang again. She glanced at it, hung up immediately, but her face instantly turned grim, and her hand instinctively covered her abdomen. “Him again?” My heart sank further, my gaze fixed on her hand protecting her stomach. “…Telemarketer,” she said, her eyes darting away. The phone kept vibrating, so insistent it made my heart race. She finally gave in, walking to a corner to answer. “Lucas! Calm down! Don’t do anything foolish! …Okay, wait there, I’m on my way!” She returned, her face etched with anxiety, beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead. “Jackson, the exhibition’s off. He’s on the edge of the rooftop… He said if I don’t go, he’ll jump!” I looked at her pale face and the hand instinctively protecting her stomach, my voice so cold it felt foreign even to myself. “So, our date, our baby, once again, less important than his little show? Ashley, just look at your own face!” She painfully clutched at her hair, her body trembling slightly. “Just this once! I swear it’s the last time! To completely resolve this! Otherwise, if he really dies, I’ll live with that shadow forever, and our baby won’t be happy either!” She turned and ran towards the parking lot, her steps a bit unsteady, but her back showed no hesitation. I stood alone on the bustling street, surrounded by people coming and going. A cold dread settled in my chest. When she returned that night, her condition was even worse. Abdominal pain intensified, and the bleeding was noticeably heavier. Rushed to the emergency room, the doctor diagnosed “threatened miscarriage” and ordered bed rest. On the hospital bed, she held my hand, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, Jackson, I’m so sorry, baby… I never thought it would come to this.” My heart twisted in agony, but all I could say was, “Let’s just focus on saving the baby for now.”

Ashley’s hospital was celebrating its anniversary. She insisted I accompany her. “Let everyone see how wonderful my husband is.” She gently caressed her slightly rounded abdomen, her face showing a fragile hope. I looked at the weariness in her eyes and her forced smile, and eventually nodded. I chose a suitable suit, trying my best to hide the exhaustion of the past few days. The hall was filled with glamorous guests, their conversations a soft hum. Her colleagues came to toast, offering congratulations and blessings. Ashley smiled and responded, her hand gently resting on the back of my chair, her other hand occasionally protecting her stomach. This carefully maintained calm only lasted until Lucas appeared. He wore a stark white suit, his face pale and gaunt, like a ghost, his gaze piercing through the crowd, locking onto Ashley. Then, in full view of everyone, he rushed over and grabbed Ashley’s arm. Tears streamed down his face, his voice quiet but every word clear, laced with a broken tremor: “Dr. Ashley! You said I was the most understood person you’d ever met! Why are you abandoning me now? Is it because you have a family, a child, so I’ve become an extra burden? Is it because Mr. Jackson… can’t tolerate me?” The entire room fell silent. All eyes, like spotlights, swiveled to me, a mix of shock, scrutiny, and unspoken pity. Ashley was completely frozen. The next second, she even instinctively switched into professional mode, saying in a gentle, soothing voice: “Lucas, don’t do this, calm down, this isn’t appropriate, let’s just…” I stood there, stripped bare of all pretense, my dignity trampled into the dust by the two of them. Finally, the hospital director’s face was dark with anger, and he motioned for security to escort Lucas away. He struggled, turning back to stare fixedly at Ashley, and shrieked desperately: “Ashley! I’ll really die without you! You promised you wouldn’t give up on me!” The drive home was a deathly silence. Only the low hum of the engine, and the pounding of my own blood rushing to my head. Ashley’s face was ashen, her hand tightly covering her stomach, her lips trembling, trying to say something, but no sound came out. Suddenly, she let out a stifled groan, her body curling up. “Ashley?” My heart tightened sharply. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead, her voice trembling: “My stomach… it hurts a little…” I looked down and saw a small, stark patch of bright red visibly spreading on her light-colored skirt. “To the hospital!” In the emergency room, the doctor’s expression was grave after the examination. “We must admit her immediately for bed rest to prevent miscarriage! The pregnant woman’s emotions absolutely cannot be stimulated any further!” Ashley was wheeled into the ward, lying on the stark white bed, her face utterly bloodless. Standing by the bed, looking at her tightly closed eyes and the hand protecting her stomach, my heart felt utterly cold. What did I, and this family, even mean to her?

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At the company dinner, I snatched my unconscious male colleague back from death’s door. But the first words out of his mouth when he woke up were accusations that I’d taken advantage of him. He even posted online demanding I make it up to him by becoming his girlfriend. I thought that was the peak of shamelessness — until today’s meeting, when he collapsed at my feet clutching his chest again, and the entire company pressured me to save him. I let out a cold laugh, took half a step back, and dialed 91 “I wouldn’t dare touch him this time. What if he wakes up and demands I pay with my life?” 1 The moment those words left my mouth, the conference room — previously noisy with panic — fell into a deathly silence. Dozens of pairs of eyes swept back and forth between me and Trevor, who was convulsing on the floor, filled with shock, confusion, and veiled accusation. The air seemed to freeze. Trevor’s number one lackey, Harvey — always quick to read the room — turned beet red with fury, jabbing his finger at my nose as he launched into a tirade. “Clara! How can you be so vicious? This is a matter of life and death, and you’re throwing a tantrum? If anything happens to Trevor, can you handle the legal consequences?!” “No, I can’t,” I shot back, meeting his gaze without backing down, my eyes cold as ice. “At last month’s company dinner, he had an allergic reaction to seafood that caused acute shock. He couldn’t even breathe. I was the one who used my certified first aid training to perform the Heimlich maneuver and CPR, literally dragging him back from death’s door!” I took a deep breath, my voice echoing through the spacious conference room. “And what happened? When he woke up, he said I ripped his shirt. Said I groped his chest while he was unconscious. Even claimed I forced a kiss on him under the guise of rescue breathing! Not only did he demand ten thousand dollars for emotional distress, he posted a sob story in the company group chat pressuring me to become his girlfriend to ‘restore his reputation’!” “This time, if I touch him again and he wakes up claiming I deliberately hurt him, demanding I transfer my house to him and support his parents in their old age — Harvey, are you going to pay for all that?” Harvey was struck speechless by my rapid-fire questions, his face turning the color of liver, unable to squeeze out a single word. Quinn from the administrative department, always one to smooth things over, stomped his feet anxiously and rushed over to grab my arm, his voice trembling. “Clara! Please, I’m begging you — stop being stubborn! Save him first! Whatever the misunderstanding is, we can mediate it internally after Trevor wakes up, okay?” I forcefully shook off Quinn’s hand and cast a cold glance at Trevor lying on the floor, his chest still heaving violently. I held up my phone, the screen showing an active 911 call. “I’ve already called an ambulance. City Central Hospital is only two blocks away. Professional medical personnel are a thousand times more reliable than a half-baked certified amateur like me.” I scanned the circle of colleagues around me — all looking anxious but not one stepping forward — and my lips curved into a mocking smile. “And let’s be honest — if I have a sudden burst of compassion today and he stops breathing halfway through the rescue, won’t his family turn around and sue me for practicing medicine without a license? For manslaughter?” “Besides, all of you who usually call him your buddy and are so concerned about him now — how come not one of you is stepping up to give him mouth-to-mouth?” “Go ahead! Maybe when Trevor wakes up, he’ll look at you all starry-eyed and say you’re secretly in love with him, and you’ll have to take responsibility for his entire future!” The moment those words left my mouth, several colleagues who had been itching to persuade me suddenly shut up as if electrocuted. Everyone looked at each other, then uniformly took two large steps backward, as if afraid of being contaminated by something dirty. Just then, Trevor — lying “at death’s door” on the floor — suddenly twitched his fingers in an extremely unnatural way. Immediately after, he let out a weak but extraordinarily clear voice. “Clara… please… save me… if you save me, I won’t… blame you for what happened at the dinner… isn’t that enough?” I almost laughed out loud from sheer anger. I took another step back, completely withdrawing from the circle surrounding me, crossing my arms and looking down at his pathetic performance. “Don’t, Trevor. Please don’t be so generous. After you catch your breath, who knows — you might say I’m lusting after your body and demand I bear your child as penance. Someone like you? I could never aspire so high.” Just as I finished speaking, the wail of an approaching ambulance siren came from outside the window. The piercing alarm cut through the quiet office building. A miracle occurred. The instant he heard the siren, Trevor — who had seemed on the verge of death just seconds ago — suddenly opened his eyes wide. He planted his hands on the ground and sprang upright from the floor in one smooth motion! Not only was his complexion rosy, even his breathing had become perfectly smooth. “Clara! Do you have to be this difficult?” Trevor brushed the dust off his suit, looking at me with an expression of wounded disappointment. “I know you’ve secretly had a crush on me, and that day at the dinner you were just trying to make a move. You’re shy and embarrassed to admit it — I get it, I understand all that.” “But how can you say such vicious things just to spite me because I called you out? Don’t you know how much that hurts my feelings?” The colleagues who moments ago had been panicking, thinking someone might die, now stood frozen in place. Then the shock on their faces rapidly transformed into the excitement of watching drama unfold. “Oh? So you’re not dead after all?” I said with a cold laugh, my gaze sharp as a knife. “Since you’re so full of life, you can go downstairs and pay the ambulance dispatch fee yourself.” “Oh, and since you just claimed I’m spitefully trying to hurt you — want me to play the recording of you cornering me in the break room yesterday, forcing me to transfer you ten thousand dollars as a ‘relationship sincerity fund’ for everyone to hear?” Trevor’s face instantly went from red to white, then from white to green, his eyes beginning to dart around anxiously. “You… what are you talking about! What ten thousand dollars! That… that was me testing your feelings for me! That was our future relationship fund!” The surrounding colleagues finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. The way everyone looked at him now was like watching a complete clown. I didn’t even spare him another glance, turning and striding back to my workstation. Saving him at last month’s dinner was the stupidest, most disgusting thing I’d ever done in my life. If I softened today, I’d be completely brain-dead. I thought that publicly exposing his true colors would finally put an end to this farce. But I underestimated how shameless people could be, and how dark the workplace really was. That evening at ten o’clock, I was at home applying a face mask when my phone suddenly vibrated. It was a voice call from Quinn. “Clara, you don’t need to come in to clock in tomorrow.” 2 I thought I’d misheard. I pulled off my face mask and turned my phone volume to maximum. “Quinn, what exactly do you mean by that?” On the other end, Quinn’s voice carried the coldness of official business and obvious impatience. “Trevor just submitted a sick leave note from City Hospital to the company, along with a diagnosis of severe depressive tendencies from the chief psychologist.” “He’s filed a formal complaint with upper management, claiming you publicly subjected him to verbal abuse and psychological harassment in the conference room today, causing him extremely serious psychological trauma.” “Management held a meeting to discuss it. The leadership’s decision is that for the greater good, you should voluntarily submit your resignation tomorrow. This looks better on your resume and minimizes the impact on the company.” I laughed in fury, anger surging to the top of my head. “He faked illness to extort people — the whole company saw it! Instead of firing that troublemaker, you’re firing me, the victim?” “Clara, don’t be so naive!” Quinn’s voice shot up an octave. “The company isn’t a court — the company wants stability and profits! The company doesn’t want to get dragged into your messy romantic drama!” “Last month’s dinner incident caused such an uproar that even several major clients came asking about the gossip. Do you know how much negative impact that had on the company’s corporate image?” “You young people dating, breaking up, getting back together — normally the company doesn’t interfere. But Trevor’s medical records clearly show he has a history of allergies and arrhythmia. If something had really happened to him in the company today, who would take responsibility for the workplace injury? Could you handle that?” Quinn paused, his tone taking on a naked threat. “I’ll only say this once. If you don’t agree to resign voluntarily, the company will issue a formal termination notice tomorrow.” “When that happens, your resignation letter will clearly state ‘terminated for suspected workplace sexual harassment and malicious bullying of colleagues.’ You’re still young — you don’t want to carry that kind of stain to job interviews at other companies, do you?” I gripped my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. I didn’t waste another word on this sycophantic manager, directly pressing the hang-up button. After taking several deep breaths to force myself to calm down, I opened the company SnapChat group. The group had completely exploded. Trevor had posted an extremely affected selfie. In the photo, he was lying in a hospital bed with an IV needle in his hand, connected to a drip, his chest wrapped with heart rate monitoring bands, his expression melancholic and broken. The caption was even more nauseating: [I always thought that if I was understanding enough, I could soften a stubborn heart. I never imagined that just because I rejected an irrational confession, I’d be publicly humiliated and denied life-saving help in front of the entire company. My chest still hurts. The doctor says I’m at risk for severe depression. I really don’t know what to do anymore. Do men in the workplace really deserve to be bullied like this?] What made it even more chilling was the long string of supportive, partisan comments below. Harvey was the first to jump in: [Hang in there, Trevor! Clara really went too far this time! No matter how bitter you are about rejection, you can’t joke around with someone’s life! This is basically attempted murder!] Another female colleague who was close to Trevor joined the pile-on: [Exactly! About last month’s dinner — maybe Clara really did force herself on Trevor while drunk. Trevor is usually so nice, always buying us afternoon tea. How could he possibly extort anyone?] Someone even made a snide remark: [I could tell ages ago that Clara had designs on Trevor. At the last team building event, she deliberately wore the same color outfit as Trevor. The way she looked at him — like she wanted to devour him whole.] Looking at these comments that twisted the truth, I rolled my eyes dramatically. The bigger the forest, the more kinds of birds you find. What a time to be alive! Trying to use these underhanded tactics to force me to resign voluntarily and whitewash your fake peace? Dream on! The next morning at nine o’clock, I put on a full face of makeup, clicked my heels, and clocked in right on time at the company entrance. As soon as I reached my workstation, I saw Trevor leaning against my desk holding a cup of coffee. Seeing me appear, surprise flashed across his face first, then that disgusting smile of “I knew you couldn’t stay away from me” spread across his features. “Clara, you still came. I knew it — those heartless things you said in the conference room yesterday were just to get my attention. You were just being contrary.” I looked at him coldly, as if looking at a pile of non-combustible garbage. “Move. You’re blocking me from breathing fresh air.” Not only did he not move, he actually leaned in closer, lowering his voice in what he probably thought was a charming tone: “Alright, stop pretending. I know you’re proud and would rather suffer than lose face. Yesterday you deliberately didn’t save me because you wanted to test whether I care about you, right?” “Let me tell you the truth — I already talked to Quinn. I told him we’re just a couple having a little spat, that I’m not pressing charges, and the company won’t fire you.” He raised an eyebrow with a magnanimous expression. “How about that? So moved you could cry? As long as you be my girlfriend right now, I’ll protect you at the company from now on.” I was genuinely shocked by this delusional man’s mental gymnastics. Did he really think he was some kind of domineering CEO? I laughed mockingly, loud enough for colleagues at several nearby workstations to hear clearly. “Trevor, do you not only have heart problems, but brain stem atrophy as well?” “Thanks so much to your whole family! Save your ‘touching gestures’ for when you’re visiting your own grave.” “And stay away from me. That scumbag stench on you is too suffocating. Bad luck!” Several colleagues who had been eavesdropping couldn’t help but snicker out loud. Trevor’s face instantly flushed red, completely unable to save face. He slammed the coffee cup on the desk and jabbed his finger at my nose, hissing viciously: “Clara! Don’t be so ungrateful! I’m telling you — if you don’t agree to be with me now, even if you strip naked and beg me on your knees later, I’ll think you’re too dirty!” I didn’t even lift an eyelid, simply pulled out a disinfectant wipe and vigorously cleaned the desk surface he’d just touched. Just then, the internal messaging software on my computer started flashing. Quinn sent a message: “Clara, come to my office. Now.” 3 I pushed open the manager’s office door. Quinn was sitting in his executive chair with a dark expression. “Clara, wasn’t I clear enough on the phone last night? The company asked you to voluntarily resign. Why did you still come in to clock in today?” I pulled out a chair and sat down calmly. “Quinn, I follow company rules and regulations. I’m never late or leave early, and my performance reviews are all excellent. I haven’t done anything wrong — why should I resign?” Quinn slammed his hand on the desk. “You haven’t done anything wrong? Your scandal with Trevor has the entire building gossiping about our company! Do you know that even the property management was asking me this morning which one of you harassed the other?” “You believe whatever Trevor says? He says I harassed him, but I say he’s extorting me! I have recordings of him forcing me to give him money yesterday. Why don’t you believe that?” Quinn was momentarily speechless from my retort, irritably loosening his tie. “Why are you being so stubborn with him? He has a depression diagnosis from the hospital. If he really does something extreme at the company — jumps off a building, cuts his wrists — the company will be held jointly liable!” “Having you resign voluntarily now is completely to protect you! If it really comes to the company issuing a termination notice, your file will be completely ruined. How will you survive in this industry after that?” Looking at Quinn’s sanctimonious face, I felt it was utterly ironic. “Thank you for your ‘good intentions,’ Quinn, but you needn’t worry about my future.” I pulled out my phone, brought up a photo of my advanced first aid certification, and shoved it right in his face. “At last month’s dinner, my emergency response for Trevor fully complied with international standard operating procedures. Not only is he ungrateful, he fabricated facts to slander me and damage my reputation. I haven’t even sued him in court yet, and your company is rushing to sweep the victim out the door?” “You want me to leave? Fine. If the company insists on terminating me, please issue a formal notice of contract termination according to labor law and pay N+1 compensation.” “Short me one cent, and we’ll see each other in labor arbitration. When that happens, I’ll not only sue the company for illegal termination, I’ll use Trevor’s statements in the company group as evidence and sue the company for harboring and enabling workplace sexual harassment. We’ll see whose face looks worse then!” Quinn trembled with rage, pointing at the office door, barely squeezing out one word: “Get out! Get out of my office!” I clicked my heels and walked out of the office with my head held high. As soon as I returned to my workstation, Piper — an intern I usually got along well with — came over with red-rimmed eyes, her voice very low. “Clara, stop fighting with the company. Look at Twitter and the local forum — Trevor posted about this online last night and bought a troll army. The whole internet is cyberbullying you now!” My heart sank. I immediately opened my phone to search. Sure enough, at the tail end of the local trending topics was a glaring hashtag: #ManipulativeWomanTriesToMurderMaleColleagueAfterRejection Clicking in, I found a long post by Trevor, accompanied by a carefully edited video. The video was only about ten seconds long, starting from yesterday’s conference room scene. In the footage, Trevor collapsed in pain, colleagues called for help anxiously, while I coldly stepped back, saying: “I wouldn’t dare touch him. What if he wakes up and demands I pay with my life?” All context had been cleanly edited out, leaving only my “cold-blooded and heartless” moment. In the long post, he portrayed himself as a clean-living, hardworking, sunny young man, while I was a psychologically twisted woman who took advantage of him at the dinner, then held a grudge after being rejected and attempted to let him die in the conference room. The comment section had completely fallen, with unbearable abuse flooding in like a tide. [Holy crap! This woman is so vicious! If you can’t have him, you’ll destroy him? This is like a real-life Fatal Attraction!] [She looks so normal on the outside, but her heart is this black! Women like this should be arrested and sentenced!] [Men need to protect themselves in the workplace too! This woman is obviously a psycho!] [Someone expose this woman’s workplace and home address! She needs to be socially destroyed!] [I know her! She works at our company. She’s always been promiscuous at work, hitting on male colleagues everywhere!] I scrolled down several pages, looking at those vicious curses. Even my parents had been dragged into it. My hands trembled uncontrollably with rage. Piper tugged at my sleeve beside me, almost crying with anxiety. “Clara, a lot of netizens are doxxing your personal information now. Even your phone number has been posted. You should just apologize and resign to lie low for a while. We ordinary people can’t afford to mess with scum like this.” I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the fury in my chest. Can’t afford to mess with him? I’m going to mess with him anyway! Just then, Trevor sauntered over with his hands in his pockets. Looking at my pale face, he couldn’t hide the smugness on his face. “How about it, Clara? Now you know what happens when you cross me, right?” He leaned down, using a voice only the two of us could hear, whispering viciously: “Let me tell you — internet mobs have no reason. If I add a little more fuel to the fire, tomorrow your photo will be made into a funeral portrait and sent to your parents’ phones.” “You want to calm this down? Sure.” A lecherous gleam flashed in his eyes. “As long as you kneel down in front of the entire company right now and apologize to me, admit that you seduced me. Then tonight, come to my place and keep me company. I’ll be magnanimous, delete the post, and say it was all a misunderstanding.” “Otherwise, I’ll make sure you can never hold your head up for the rest of your life!”

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Rumors spread throughout the company that the Chairman’s chief secretary had worked her way up and was about to become his wife. I carried a stack of files and strolled to the Chairman’s office, wanting to see what kind of person this secretary was. The woman wore luxury designer pieces from head to toe, her figure alluring. She was indeed quite attractive. Before I could leave, she strutted straight toward me on her high heels. “Are you that intern who keeps going to see the Chairman? Seducing the Chairman during work hours—college girls these days are truly shameless.” Before I could snap back, she suddenly grabbed my hand and slammed it hard against the desk corner! The face of her Patek Philippe watch shattered instantly. She fell to the floor in one smooth motion, tears streaming down on cue: “This watch was a birthday gift the Chairman personally flew to London to buy me!” “Even if you’re jealous of me, you can’t destroy the Chairman’s heartfelt gift…” In an instant, everyone in the office pointed and whispered about me, calling me shameless. My brain completely froze. Wait, what seduction? I’m the Chairman’s actual daughter!

Violet collapsed to the floor, holding up the shattered watch, crying pitifully. She pointed her finger at my nose. “Yesterday I saw you sneaking out of the Chairman’s office, and today you deliberately broke the birthday gift he gave me!” “How can an intern be so vicious!” I glanced at the watch on her wrist. The so-called Patek Philippe was an obvious knockoff. Setting aside how fake it looked, my dad Roger didn’t even like the Patek Philippe brand. I laughed coldly. “Are you out of your mind? The Chairman is my…” Before I could say “dad,” Violet suddenly raised her voice to interrupt me. “You’re still trying to make excuses?” “Are you going to say the Chairman has feelings for you? Why don’t you take a good look at yourself first!” As she shouted, she deliberately rubbed her wrist hard against the rough carpet. Her fair skin instantly scraped raw, with tiny traces of blood seeping out. She had the victim act down perfectly. The entire executive office fell into dead silence, then erupted into buzzing whispers. “College girls these days really have no shame.” “Exactly, desperate to climb the social ladder!” “Violet is so beautiful and kind-hearted. What’s there to be jealous of?” The sycophantic colleagues in the executive office immediately found their chance to perform. Correll, the HR manager who rushed over after hearing the commotion, pushed through the crowd. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to show loyalty to the future Chairman’s wife. “You broke Violet’s multi-million dollar watch—you couldn’t pay for it even if you sold yourself!” “Fire her immediately! Call security to detain her and report to the police for compensation!” I watched this farce unfold, feeling only absurdity. Flew to London last month? Roger clearly went to attend my Oxford graduation ceremony. He followed me around carrying my bags the whole time. When would he have time to buy you a watch? This was all Roger’s fault—insisting on putting me at the bottom as an intern. He claimed it was to help me understand the company’s real internal situation, and kept calling me to his office for questioning every few days. Now look—a huge misunderstanding. Listening to the increasingly ridiculous whispers around me, I spoke again. “Call the police? Fine.” “Let them bring Roger down here so he can personally identify me as his—” “Enough!” Violet interrupted me again. She put on a generous yet wronged expression, raising her hand to stop Manager Correll. “Forget it. She’s just a poor student. Calling the police would ruin her whole life.” Tears still hung in her eyes, but her voice carried a condescending charity. “As long as she kneels before me and apologizes right now, then gets out of this company herself.” “This multi-million dollar watch… I’ll bear the cost myself.” As soon as she finished speaking, waves of admiration erupted around us. “Violet is such a good person…” “If it were me, I could never be so generous.” “Worthy of being the future Chairman’s wife—such grace, such magnanimity!” After praising Violet, everyone’s hostility turned back to me in unison. “What are you standing there for? Violet isn’t even holding it against you—why aren’t you kneeling?” “That’s right! If you know what’s good for you, kowtow quickly, or once the police are called you’re finished!” I almost laughed in anger. Make me kneel? Roger doesn’t even dare speak a harsh word to me normally—who do you think you are to receive my bow? I coldly scanned the room, my voice not loud but full of authority. “Make me kneel? I’m afraid there’s no one in this company worthy of it.” Seeing me so arrogant, Violet felt humiliated. She suddenly stood up and reached to grab my hair, wanting to force me down. “You bitch—” “SLAP!” An extremely crisp sound echoed through the executive office. I backhanded her with a slap that sent her tumbling back to the floor. Everyone was stunned. After a brief moment of shock, Manager Correll shrieked for security. “This is outrageous! Grab this crazy woman!” Several security guards rushed in and surrounded me. At that moment, a cold, authoritative male voice rang out. “What’s going on here!”

The newcomer was none other than Gabriel, the company’s Executive Vice President. A second ago, Violet had been like a tiger ready to tear me apart. The moment she saw Gabriel, she instantly transformed into a delicate, clinging flower. “Mr. Gabriel, you’re finally here!” Violet covered her swollen cheek, tears streaming endlessly. “This new intern not only seduced the Chairman during work hours but is also jealous of me!” “She deliberately smashed the multi-million dollar watch the Chairman gave me!” “I kindly advised her to apologize, but she actually hit me…” As Violet sobbed, she pressed her swollen face against Gabriel’s chest. “Look at my face—look what she did to me!” Gabriel held the soft woman in his arms, his gaze shooting toward me with sinister intensity. He looked me up and down in my plain business attire, his contempt unconcealed. “Where did this wild girl come from, with no manners whatsoever.” “Dressed in such shabby clothes, yet dares to cause trouble in the executive office?” He snorted coldly and squeezed Violet’s shoulder in reassurance. “I’ve seen plenty of cheap college girls like you who’ll do anything to climb up.” “Today, if I don’t teach you a lesson, you won’t know who really runs this company!” I looked at the two clinging tightly together and nearly burst out laughing. Well, well—turns out this secretary’s real lover is Mr. Gabriel. Looks like I’ve caught a big fish this time. Seeing Gabriel personally taking charge, Manager Correll jumped out like he’d been injected with adrenaline. “Mr. Gabriel is absolutely right! This cancer must be fired immediately!” The sycophantic colleagues around also chimed in, afraid they’d be too late to show loyalty. “Make her pay! Pay until she’s bankrupt!” “Offending Violet and Mr. Gabriel—she’ll never work in this industry again!” “She even dared to hit someone, thinking that fox face gives her the right to do whatever she wants?” Vicious mockery flooded in like a tide. In their eyes, an intern with no connections like me was finished today. To vent for Violet, Gabriel’s face showed malice. He turned directly to the security captain and ordered: “Lock the doors!” “Until this matter is resolved, no one lets her out!” The executive office doors closed. Several security guards advanced on me in a semi-circle. Watching me surrounded, Violet poked her head out from Gabriel’s arms. She affected a condescending tone, full of false charity. “Mr. Gabriel, don’t really hurt her. She is a girl, after all.” “How about this—as long as she kneels and kowtows an apology to me right now, then signs a three million dollar IOU, we’ll call it even.” She paused, calculation flashing in her eyes. “Besides… the Chairman will be back in ten minutes. We shouldn’t disturb him.” Hearing this, a cold smile curved my lips. Ten more minutes? Perfect timing. Roger, you’d better hurry up and see your toxic company and your “excellent secretary.” I walked straight through the security cordon to the center of the executive office. I pulled out the chair usually reserved only for the Chairman and sat down directly, casually crossing my legs. Everyone was dumbfounded. Gabriel’s face instantly turned iron-blue—this move was like grinding his face into the ground. I leaned back in the chair, my fingers lightly tapping the desk. My gaze coldly fixed on Violet and Gabriel. “Make me sign a three million dollar IOU?” “Sure.” “But Violet, even if I dare to sign it, do you dare to take it?” Before she could react, I turned to Gabriel. “By the way Gabriel, have you cleared up that mess from when you embezzled company funds last month?” The moment “embezzled company funds” left my mouth. Gabriel’s previously arrogant face instantly went pale. The panic in his eyes was impossible to hide—he completely broke. “What nonsense are you spouting!” Humiliated and furious, he shoved Violet aside. His eyes bloodshot, he grabbed the heavy crystal ashtray from the desk and, face twisted, hurled it viciously at me. “Grab this bitch who’s spreading lies!” “If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility!”

The heavy glass ashtray came whistling through the air. My eyes sharpened as I jerked my head to the side. With a tremendous crash. The ashtray grazed past my ear and smashed into the mahogany bookshelf behind me, shattering into pieces. Several female colleagues screamed and covered their mouths. I planted my hands on the desk and stood up. Looking down at Gabriel with authority, my voice carried the oppressive force of someone in power. “Gabriel, you dare touch me?” “Who gave you that courage!” Gabriel was stunned by my presence. Even the security guards instinctively stepped back half a pace. Seeing this, Violet panicked, afraid Gabriel would back down. She rushed forward on her high heels. “Mr. Gabriel, don’t listen to her bluffing!” “She’s just a broke student with no connections. She’s still trying to act tough when she’s about to die!” She turned to the security guards, her eyes full of venom. “Hold her down!” “Strip her clothes off!” “I want the whole company to see what this vixen who dares seduce the Chairman really looks like!” Not a single person around spoke up to stop it. I grabbed the teacup from the desk, flicked my wrist, and splashed it directly in Violet’s face. “Ahh—” Violet screamed, covering her face as tea dripped down from her hair. She looked utterly pathetic. I scoffed coldly. “Acting tough with me?” “Looking at someone like you makes me sick.” “This tea is for you to wash that filthy mouth of yours.” She trembled with rage, pointing at me for a long time without managing a word. I couldn’t be bothered with her and turned to Gabriel. “Gabriel, embezzling company funds in especially large amounts carries a sentence of over ten years.” “Add illegal detention, picking quarrels, and intentional injury.” “Are you trying to spend the rest of your life in prison?” Gabriel’s eyelid twitched, his expression shifting uncertainly. He stared at me hard, probably realizing I really held evidence that could destroy him. But a old fox like him wouldn’t admit defeat publicly. He suddenly laughed coldly and turned the tables. “Good!” “I’ve long suspected there was a corporate spy inside the company. So it was you!” He turned and shouted at the security guards. “She stole the company’s core secrets!” “Search her phone and belongings immediately!” “Detain her in the security room and wait for the police!” Gabriel did have some skill—no wonder he’d embezzled under Roger’s nose for so many years. Hearing they were catching a corporate spy, the security guards pounced like wolves. I struggled hard, but the strength difference between men and women was insurmountable. Two security guards roughly twisted my arms and pressed me hard against the desk. In the scuffle, the top button of my shirt was torn off. My hair fell loose, and my wrists were twisted until they showed glaring red marks. I gritted my teeth without making a sound. Not only did no colleague intervene, they all showed contemptuous expressions. “So she’s a thief.” “I knew she seemed sneaky.” “Looks decent on the outside but does such shameless things.” This humiliation of being publicly framed and roughly handled was truly infuriating. Gabriel walked up to me and bent down slightly. In a voice only we could hear, he said viciously: “Once we get to the security room with no cameras.” “I’ll make you cough up all the evidence.” “Then I’ll send you to prison to rot for the rest of your life.” With that, he straightened up and waved his hand with false righteousness. “Gag her! Take her away!”

Two security guards pulled me up with my hands pinned behind my back. I raised my head and stared hard at Violet and Gabriel. “Turn off the cameras?” “You really think you run this company, Gabriel?” “The more you jump around now, the worse you’ll die later.” Violet felt stung by my gaze and stepped forward to slap me in frustration. I spoke mockingly: “Violet, does the Chairman know about your little affair with Gabriel?” Violet’s hand froze in mid-air. Gabriel also froze. Watching their reactions, I sneered inwardly. Just as I suspected. A murderous glint flashed in Gabriel’s eyes. He realized he couldn’t let me speak anymore. “This bitch has lost her mind!” he roared. “Violet, get tape and seal her mouth!” Violet immediately grabbed the wide tape from the desk and viciously approached me. Every muscle in my body tensed. Just as she lunged with the tape, I suddenly exerted force. Risking dislocating my wrist, I kicked forward hard, landing precisely on Violet’s kneecap. “Ahh—” Violet screamed and fell flat on her face in a ridiculous position. I used the momentum to ram my shoulder hard into the security guard on my left. The security captain was enraged by my resistance. He felt humiliated by a young woman. “Fucking bitch!” He cursed and raised the black rubber baton high. With fierce force, he swung it mercilessly toward my head. My pupils contracted sharply. This blow would leave me dead or disabled. “What are you doing! Are you rebelling?” At this critical moment, the closed doors of the executive office were kicked open from outside. A deep male voice exploded at the entrance. Everyone’s movements froze instantly. I raised my head and saw who stood at the door. Roger stood there with several executives and personal bodyguards. The moment Violet saw Roger, she acted like she’d found her savior. Ignoring the pain in her knee, she crawled over frantically, crying pathetically. “Chairman, you’re finally back!” “The company has a corporate spy!” She rushed to accuse me first. “This new intern not only stole company secrets but also injured me!” “Mr. Gabriel was having security restrain her to protect company property!” Hearing Violet’s words, I was speechless. This woman’s acting was really quite good. To nail me completely, Violet continued embellishing. “Chairman, this shameless woman has been spreading rumors everywhere that she has close ties with you!” “I got angry and confronted her, so she attacked me!” “Look what she did to me!” She raised her face, pointing to the fingerprints. “You absolutely cannot let her off!” Manager Correll and the sycophantic colleagues also chimed in. “That’s right, Chairman! Mr. Gabriel and Violet have worked so hard for the company!” “This shameless college girl should be sent straight to the police!” Everyone used the most vicious language to condemn me. Expecting the high and mighty Chairman to bring down thunderous wrath. I stood in the middle of the crowd, coldly watching these clowns’ crude performance. Roger frowned deeply, his face dark as he pushed through the crowd. “Move aside!” “Let me see who has such audacity!” The security guards immediately scattered in fear. I was finally free. I slowly straightened my body. Though my hair was disheveled, my shirt torn, and I looked utterly wretched. My spine remained perfectly straight. I ignored the others’ mockery. Instead, I looked directly at that imposing middle-aged man. I raised both hands, showing my bruised wrists. “Roger, this is the company you insisted I come to?” My voice was clear but full of mockery. “If you’d been one minute later, I would’ve been beaten to death by these loyal dogs of yours!” Hearing me call him by name, everyone gasped. They thought I’d gone mad. However, the moment that man saw my face clearly, his pupils dilated in shock, and his entire body froze. The authority on his face crumbled inch by inch, transforming into extreme anger and heartache…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “398761”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster