On the day of my engagement, my fiancé’s first love attempted suicide. He told me it was a life-or-death situation and asked me to “be understanding.” Sure, I can be understanding. The guests were already here, and they couldn’t have come for nothing. So, I found a new groom on the spot. Forget the engagement, let’s go straight to the wedding. I was sitting in the Bridal Suite, dressed in my elegant wedding gown, waiting for the engagement ceremony to start. But instead of someone coming to escort me to the ballroom, my best friend walked in, her face pale as a ghost. “What happened?” My brow twitched slightly as a bad feeling crept over me. She stared at me for a long moment, grinding her teeth before she finally spoke. “I told you to break up with Jack Linfield, but you didn’t listen. Now, on your engagement day, his first love is about to whisk him away!” I was silent for a full five seconds. “Samantha Shaw?” “Who else?” My best friend let out a cold laugh and glanced at the doorway just as my fiancé, Jack, walked in. “Honestly, I don’t know where you found this one. Who abandons their fiancée at the engagement party because his ex cried a little on the phone?” Jack, clearly catching the dig, didn’t look happy. “Samantha…she tried to slit her wrists. It’s bad. I need to go check on her.” “Check on her? Why? You’re not her family, and you’re definitely not her boyfriend. Why is it your business?” My best friend smirked, stepping forward and taking my hand. “He’s still hung up on her. Imagine being about to get engaged but worrying more about your ex. Bravo, Jack. That’s something to admire.” Jack’s expression darkened, ignoring her, and turned to me instead. “Nina, I know today’s our engagement party. I didn’t want this to happen, but it’s a matter of life and death. I hope you can be understanding.” I raised an eyebrow, looking at the man I’d been dating for six months, and then suddenly, I laughed. “Sure, I understand. Go ahead.” “Nina Woodson!” My best friend stared at me in disbelief. “You’re letting your fiancé leave his own engagement party to go check on another woman? Nina, do you want to be the laughingstock for the rest of your life?!” I stood up, wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and gently pinched her cheek, forcing her to close her mouth. “Go on, Jack. Hurry, before her wounds start healing on their own.” I said it so sweetly. Jack hesitated, sensing something was off, but didn’t think too much about it. He turned and practically ran out of the room. My best friend broke free of my grip, eyes wide as she prepared to scream at me again, but I smiled brightly and spoke first. “The engagement party? Oh, it’s definitely still happening.” “With who? A ghost? Your groom just left.” I wagged my finger with a knowing smile. “Who said the engagement party has to be with Jack?” My friend looked baffled as I slipped on my heels and strolled toward the ballroom. Since my fiancé wasn’t cooperating, I didn’t mind swapping him out for a new groom.

I peeked out of the doorway, scanning the ballroom. The guests were almost all seated, and it was nearly time for the ceremony. I looked from left to right, front to back—ugh, not a single man worth considering. Of course, my most handsome guy friend wasn’t picking up his phone. He’s killing me here. I couldn’t embarrass myself. That was my bottom line. Just when I was starting to lose hope, I spotted my dad walking toward the front of the room, dragging someone along. “Ethan, I really appreciate you coming all the way here straight from the airport…” Dad was beaming as he introduced the man beside him, a tall, handsome guy with an air of mystery. His name was Ethan Cooper. Dressed in a sharp suit, he looked as flawless as ever, his features both striking and refined. And just like that, the answer to my dilemma appeared. He was perfect—someone I knew well, someone who would make an impression. Without a second thought, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found his number. I hesitated for a moment before calling. It had been a long time since I last used it, back when I was studying abroad. Ethan had been a chess buddy of my dad’s. They had once competed in a national amateur tournament together, with Ethan emerging victorious. At the time, Ethan was only 19, while my dad was 43. Ever since, they’d maintained a close friendship, despite the age difference. Even though Ethan is only eight years older than me, my dad insisted I call him “Uncle Ethan.” Now, at 34, Ethan Cooper was wealthy, charming, good-looking, and successful. The only thing missing in his life was a good wife. And hey, what a coincidence… The phone rang a couple of times before Ethan picked up, his voice calm and steady. “Hello?” “Uncle Ethan, could you come to the Bridal Suite? I need a favor.” “Something urgent?” He got it right away. That’s why they call him “uncle,” I guess. “Yeah, it’s pretty urgent.” “Okay, I’ll be right there.” I watched as Ethan stood up without even telling my dad where he was going. He asked a server for directions and started walking my way. Two knocks later, I opened the door and pulled him inside before anyone else could see. My best friend had already been shooed out so I could save face in case Ethan said no. “Uncle Ethan, I need your help.” “Go ahead.” I pointed to Jack’s backup suit, giving him the best pleading look I could muster. “If you’re not in a rush, could you…just marry me today?” He raised an eyebrow, immediately catching on. “Did your fiancé bail, or are you the one with regrets?” Eight years of knowing him meant he could read the situation like a book. Seeing him there reminded me of when I was a mischievous kid. I’d tried to prank him once with some friends, but it ended with him outsmarting all of us. Back then, when my friends and I had a falling out, he’d said something that stuck with me. “Trust is the foundation of any partnership. If suspicion outweighs trust, it’s no surprise things fall apart.” So, I told him everything—about Jack and Samantha. He listened intently. “So, he ran, and now you regret it too?” I nodded firmly. Absolutely no doubt about it. Jack could go be with whoever he wanted. I, Nina Woodson, wasn’t about to look back. “I’d rather stay single my entire life than marry someone like Jack.” Ethan gently covered my mouth with his hand, a mysterious smile on his face. “Alright, I’ll do it.” He glanced at Jack’s suit and shook his head. “This fabric is terrible, the colors are all wrong, and the sleeves are too short. I can’t wear this.” I looked him over again and realized Ethan was taller than Jack. Well, thank you, Samantha. Not only did I get a new groom, but he’s taller, too. “TOM!” Ethan called, his assistant immediately responding. “Grab the backup suit from my car. And tell them I’ll wait in the Groom’s Suite, not the main ballroom.” After everything was arranged, Ethan gave me a light pat on the shoulder. “See you soon, my fiancée.”

You really have to hand it to a good assistant. Not only did he adjust to the fact his boss was suddenly getting married, but he even agreed to officiate the ceremony. With our new “officiant” in place, the engagement party proceeded smoothly. Thanks to my best friend giving my parents the heads-up, they handled the switch calmly. As for Jack’s parents, they’d already left the venue by then. I later found out that Jack had started planning for their exit the moment he took Samantha’s call. Knowing he was in the wrong, he didn’t want his parents to face the embarrassment of apologizing on his behalf, so he went for the coward’s way out. People really show their true colors when they’re running away. After the ceremony wrapped up, my dad couldn’t wait to ask Ethan what was going on. “Ethan, what’s the deal with today?” He was still calling Ethan “old buddy,” but my mom was quicker on the uptake. “Sweetie, you can’t call him that anymore—it’s your son-in-law now!” She whispered, pinching my dad’s waist. “I mean…this is all so sudden…” Seeing how confused my dad looked, Ethan put his arm around my shoulder and smoothly spun a completely made-up story about how we had “always loved each other but were too afraid to admit it—until today.” Honestly, even I almost believed him. As the top-ranked “Outstanding Young Professional” in the city, handling an engagement party was a walk in the park for Ethan. Before long, he had the room eating out of his hand. A couple of puzzled guests were quickly drowned in my dad’s wine. The party was a success. Back in the dressing room, my best friend finally let out a deep breath. “Jack is such a jerk, but at least he did one decent thing in his life—today.” As she helped me out of my wedding gown, she couldn’t resist throwing in a few more snarky comments. “You dropped a tiny speck of dust and traded it for a whole truckload of gold. Honestly, you’ve won the jackpot!” I chuckled. “You should have joined a comedy show. They’re missing out on some serious talent.”

As I stepped out of the Bridal Suite, I saw Ethan waiting for me by the door. He had already changed back into his sharp suit, still looking annoyingly handsome. “Ahem, I’ll go return the wedding dress for you,” my best friend teased, putting extra emphasis on “your fiancé,” before laughing and walking away. Honestly, I didn’t plan to involve Ethan at first. If only my best guy friend had answered his phone, none of this would have happened. But here we were. Thankfully, this was just an engagement party, not the actual wedding. Give it some time, and people would forget about it. Later, I could come up with a graceful way out, maybe chalk it up to “bad timing.” But first, I had to talk to Ethan. We couldn’t just wing it like we did today. Just as I was about to start a conversation, my phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but I answered without much thought. On the other end, I heard Jack’s voice, incredulous and furious. “Nina Woodson! Do you think marriage is a game?” “I told you I was going to help someone. I asked you to be reasonable… and you just replaced me with someone else?!” “You even blocked my whole family’s numbers? Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself…” He was practically shouting, and I could imagine the spit flying as he ranted through the phone. I hadn’t even had the chance to confront him, and now he was playing the victim. Fine. If he wants to play this game, I’ll make sure he understands. “First of all, Jack, you were the one who treated marriage like a joke. You ran away from our engagement, remember?” “Secondly, you’re not a doctor. You’re just a guy still hung up on his ex. Get over yourself.” “And lastly… we’re done. Why would I need to keep your number? There’s no reason for it.” Oh, it felt so good to finally get that out. I’d been holding that in all day. “Where are you? Stay where you are. I’m coming to find you right now…” Jack’s voice was still shouting through the phone. Before I could respond, Ethan reached over and took the phone from me, his arm casually draping around my shoulders as he spoke into it. “Jack Linfield, right? If you have something to say, say it to me. Don’t raise your voice at my fiancée.” That deep, authoritative voice… it was lethal. There was stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by some incoherent muttering before Jack hung up. I stood there, completely floored. If I had even a fraction of Ethan’s presence, I wouldn’t have let Jack walk all over me for six months. Actually, scratch that. If I had Ethan’s confidence, I wouldn’t have even given Jack the time of day!

On the way home, I couldn’t help but doze off in the car. When I woke up, I felt a soft jacket draped over me. Ethan must’ve noticed me stirring, because he glanced over and smiled. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He reached out and gently readjusted the jacket on my shoulders. “You were exhausted. I wanted you to rest.” Wow. Thoughtful, but not in that cheesy, over-the-top way. The kind of guy who knows how to take care of you without making a big show of it. Is this what they mean by the charm of a mature man? Today, I was definitely starting to understand. I let out a small sigh. “Thank you. Really. I’m not even sure how to express my gratitude.” Scratching the back of my head, I considered how I could possibly repay Ethan for what he did today. The Woodson family had always believed in repaying favors, but I wasn’t sure how to handle this one. After all, Ethan was wealthy and didn’t need anything. He had a great life, except maybe the whole “needing a wife” part. Looked like it might be time to step up and continue my dad’s mission of finding him a match. Ethan gave me a look, his eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. Then he leaned in slightly, bringing that familiar woody scent closer. Before I realized what was happening, he unhooked my seatbelt with ease, his hand brushing mine. “We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. As I got out of the car, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator’s shiny wall. Good grief, I looked like I’d just rolled out of bed. What a sight for Ethan to see!

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Because of my kindness toward a dog, I was gifted $5 billion. All I had to do was spend it, and my liver cancer would miraculously disappear. I stared at the balance on my phone, wiping away my tears. If I could spend to my heart’s content before I die, it was worth it! The day I was diagnosed with liver cancer was Christmas. The streets were filled with the sound of Christmas carols, and the atmosphere was lively and cheerful. I drifted down the street with the lab results in my hand. “Liver cancer, late-stage” were the words glaring at me from the medical report. The doctor’s words still echoed in my mind. “If there’s something you want to do, do it quickly.” “Treatment isn’t going to help you. You only have a few months.” I had sensed something was wrong with my body for a while, so the news wasn’t a surprise. There was just this feeling of, “Well, that figures.” Maybe it was the years of overworking. Maybe it was all the dinners and drinks with clients. Maybe it was the malnutrition from my teenage years catching up to me. My phone screen lit up. It was a message from my boyfriend, Tyler Martin. [Baby, I have to work late tonight. I can’t spend Christmas with you.] I looked up and saw two people locked in an embrace, not far away. So, this was what he meant by “working late.” Suddenly, being cheated on didn’t seem like such a big deal in the face of death. But did he really have to flaunt it in front of me? I walked up to them and yanked the two of them apart. A loud slap landed square on Tyler’s face. “Working late?” He looked stunned. He turned to see me, his eyes wide with shock, and just as he was about to explode in anger, I slapped him again, this time across his right cheek. “Working late with her face?” I had fallen for that gentle, nerdy face of his. He seemed cultured and sweet. Sure, he had his faults—he wasn’t exactly strong, and he had a ton of quirks—but I liked him anyway. So, I played the naïve girlfriend for three years. Who would’ve thought he’d turn out to be such scum? I still wasn’t satisfied. I raised my hand and slapped him once more. This time, he lost it, clenching his fists and charging at me, breathless with rage. I kicked him square in the chest, and he stumbled back a few steps, gasping for air, unable to form coherent words. “Carrie Mitchell, are you insane?!” I smirked. “Yeah, I am. I’m dying, actually.” I kicked him again, sending him sprawling to the ground. Tyler lay there, groaning in pain, barely able to breathe. I stepped on him, grinding my foot into his chest for good measure, and glanced around at the crowd forming nearby. People were starting to gather, some even pulling out their phones to record the scene. “I’m just dealing with a cheating scumbag. Any of you want to defend him, or do you want to be next?” As soon as the words left my mouth, the crowd scattered. Soon, it was just me and the pale-faced girl standing there. She looked young, probably just graduated from college. “How long have you been dating him?” She mumbled, “Not even six months.” “Did you know he had a girlfriend?” The girl shook her head furiously, eyes wide. “No! Not until now! I’m done with him! I swear!” I nodded in approval. “Then what are you waiting for? Leave.” “Right! Right, I’m going! Wishing you—” I cut her off, annoyed. “Don’t bother wishing me anything. I don’t have a thing for secondhand men.” Once the girl was gone, I grabbed Tyler by the collar and dragged him to the railing. I was strong by nature, and a few years of martial arts training had made sure I could handle someone like him without breaking a sweat. “Now let’s talk about us.” “We’ve been together for three years. How much have I spent on you?” Tyler’s face was swollen and red, looking nothing like the clean-cut guy I used to like. “Uh… maybe $30,000? No, wait, $50,000.” “Are you sure?” “And the $30,000 you loaned me. So, $80,000 total.” “No interest?” Tyler quickly changed his answer. “Okay, okay! $100,000! I owe you $100,000!” I stuffed my medical report back into my coat pocket. “Pay up. Cash or transfer?” “Transfer, transfer!” I stared coldly at him. “Don’t forget to add a note.” He flinched and immediately added a note before shakily entering his password to make the transfer. My phone buzzed with the notification. $100,000 received, labeled as “Repayment.”

Before leaving, I gave him one last chance. “Do you need me to call the cops for you?” Tyler was trembling like a leaf, looking pitiful. “No! I, uh, fell. I haven’t seen you today!” I lost interest. “Fine then.” “I like your hands. It’d be a shame if they got broken because you didn’t behave.” “Now get lost.” Tyler stumbled to his feet and fled. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my body, and I could barely stand. Sweat poured down my face as I crouched, hugging my knees. It took a while for the pain to pass. I slowly made my way home, but then my mom called. “Carrie, you haven’t sent this month’s money yet.” My heart sank to the bottom. I finally realized how meaningless all my efforts for my family had been. I was dying. Yet the only thing my family cared about was why I hadn’t sent money this month. These were the people I’d been planning to leave my inheritance to. “What, is $5,000 a month not enough for you and Dad?” “It’s enough, but your brother just graduated. He needs to pay rent, and he’s got a car loan. He’s short on cash.” I scoffed coldly, “So now I’m the ATM? What am I, his parent?” Her voice immediately rose. “Carrie Mitchell, how can you say that? Don’t forget, when you were a kid, your brother saved your life!” Saved me? David was two years younger than me but always better fed and healthier. He pushed me into the river because I wouldn’t let him ride on my back like a horse. Mom, Ellen, knew the truth. But she had used that story to guilt-trip me my whole life, making me feel like I owed them everything. Out of love for my family, I kept quiet about it. But now, I no longer had to. I cut her off, “Do you think I don’t remember?” “Maybe I should ask Uncle Wayne, the one who actually saved me, what he thinks.” Mom fell silent. She tried to start yelling again, but I didn’t give her the chance. “I’ve kept records of every transfer. I paid for the house’s down payment and mortgage too.” “I’ve repaid what you spent raising me. You’ve got enough for retirement.” “If you still want to make a fuss, I’ll make sure your precious son pays for it.” “We’ll see who cares more.” Her angry curses filled the phone. I hung up and blocked all contact with them. A sense of calm settled over me. All the resentment I’d bottled up for years suddenly seemed insignificant in the face of death. In my final months, all I wanted was to treat myself better. As I walked through Briarwood Alley, I heard a rustling behind me. Under the dim streetlight, a hulking man with a scruffy beard was approaching, holding a knife. Despite his efforts to seem calm, his hands were shaking. A newbie? I said, “Are you robbing me?” “Y-yeah, but aren’t you scared?” I cut him off. “Would $5,000 be enough? Give me your number, I’ll send it over.” Better to give it to this guy than let my family drain me dry. The man looked confused. I grabbed his hand, fished out his phone, and pulled up the payment screen, transferring $5,000 to him. He still hadn’t recovered from the shock. I frowned. “Is $5,000 not enough? Asking for more would be rude.” “W-why are you being so cooperative?” Honestly, he seemed kind of dumb—like a big bear with a scruffy face. I pulled out my medical report. “See this? Stage four liver cancer. I’m terminal.” The man’s face changed, and tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away and transferred the money back to me. Then, he pulled out a wad of cash from his pockets and stuffed it into my hands. “I’m sorry, sis! My grandpa had cancer too. I didn’t know what else to do.” “Please, get treatment! You’ll be okay, I swear!” He hurried off, still crying. I stared at the crumpled bills in my hands, feeling a lump rise in my throat. A stranger had more compassion for me than my own family ever did.

Near the trash cans by Oakwood Apartments, I found a stray dog, its fur matted and filthy. Something tugged at my heart. I took off my coat, wrapped the little dog in it, and rushed it to the Brooklyn Veterinary Clinic. Thankfully, I brought it in just in time, and they managed to save its life. As I was carrying the little dog back home, I noticed someone following me. Another mugger? I spun around. It was an older man, his hair streaked with gray, and he looked tired and worn out. His eyes were locked on the little puppy in my arms, filled with a strange mix of pain, sorrow, and… relief? Something about him felt off. “Miss, can I have my grandson back?” I clutched the puppy tighter. “And how do you plan to prove it?” His throat made a strange, guttural noise, almost inhuman, sending a shiver down my spine. Then, the puppy, which had been barely moving, perked up. It opened its eyes and started wriggling in his direction, its little paws reaching out. The man took the dog and stroked its head gently. “Thank you for saving him, miss. Let me offer you a reward for your trouble.” I shook my head. “No need. I’m dying soon anyway, so money’s not much use to me.” The man’s eyes shifted color—his once dark pupils turned a glowing green, scanning me up and down as if he could see straight through me. My skin crawled. “Good deeds don’t go unrewarded. You saved my grandson, and for that, my family is forever grateful.” “If you can spend this money within three months, your illness will be cured.” I blinked in confusion. “What?” My phone buzzed, and when I looked at the screen, a new account had appeared, linked to a Chase Platinum Card. I did a quick count. $5 billion. I glanced back at the man and the dog, but they were already gone. My coat pocket felt heavier than before. I reached in and pulled out a sleek black credit card. Was this some kind of joke? Curious, I decided to test it. I emptied my Amazon cart, hitting checkout, expecting it to fail—but the transaction went through. That man wasn’t lying! I flagged down an Uber and headed straight for the city center. If I was going to die, I might as well go out in style. I arrived at the Galleria on Fifth Avenue, looking as pale as a ghost, with my clothes still covered in dirt from the dog. Even the little dog had gotten my coat all dirty. The sales associate who approached me looked barely older than twenty, nervous and shy. Probably new on the job, otherwise, they wouldn’t have sent her to deal with me. She seemed nice enough, though. She even offered me a cup of hot water when she noticed I didn’t have a jacket. I pointed to two coats and asked her to ring them up. “Don’t you want to try them on first, miss?” she asked hesitantly. I shook my head. “No need. Just bill me.” After the transaction, I pulled out my phone to check the balance. Sure enough, the card had worked, and a tiny progress bar had appeared on my phone screen. It read: 99.98%. I called out to another sales associate who had been watching me from the moment I stepped in, her nose high in the air. She barely hid her disdain as she sauntered over. “Excuse me, could I—” She cut me off with a sneer, rolling her eyes. “We don’t accept returns or exchanges on purchases here.” I raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t asking for that.” “You’re blocking my view.” Turning to the first girl, who seemed much kinder, I waved her over. “Miss, can you help me out?” “Of course! What would you like?” I pointed to several bags on display. “You see those three rows of bags? Grab the second one on the first row, the first one on the second row, and the fourth one on the third row.” The girl hurried off to retrieve them. “Would you like them gift-wrapped?” “No, thanks.” The snooty sales associate looked like she was about to say something again, but before she could open her mouth, I continued. “I’ll take everything else in those three rows. Pack them up, and put them all on her sale.” I pointed to the kind associate.

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Because my family was poor, my mom gave me to my aunt and kept my sister with her. Later, I followed my aunt into business and became a successful person that everyone envied. My sister, however, seduced my husband out of jealousy. To get my property, she even planned to burn down my villa. But unexpectedly, the fire was too big and we both perished in it. Living life again, my sister was the first to jump out and want to be my aunt’s daughter. I smiled, it was exactly what I wanted. I jolted awake, finding myself in a familiar room. The pain of being burned alive was still vivid in my mind, yet my body bore no scars. Before I could gather my thoughts, there was a knock at the door. I heard my aunt’s voice. As I listened to my mom and aunt talking, I realized with clarity: I had gone back in time. In my previous life, at this moment, Aunt Sarah and her Japanese husband were planning to move to Japan. Before leaving, Aunt Sarah came to say goodbye to our family. Aunt Sarah was discussing with my mom that our family’s financial situation was too strained to raise two children, and she wanted to adopt one of us to take to Japan. This time, I didn’t burst out of the room like I did in my previous life. Instead, I stayed quietly inside, listening. Aunt Sarah asked, “Which one of them do you want to come with me to Japan?” My mom made the same choice as before, “Let Zoe go with you. She’s a good girl.” But this time, Lily immediately interrupted, “Why should Zoe get to go and enjoy a better life? I want to go!” Mom tried to persuade Lily, “Lily, dear, Mommy would miss you too much. Let Zoe go.” Lily became agitated, “Mom! Are you stupid? Why should Zoe get all the benefits? If I establish myself there, I can bring you over later to enjoy a good life too.” Mom hesitated, “Well…” Hearing that she might be able to enjoy a better life through Lily, Mom was visibly tempted. Seeing Mom’s hesitation, Lily became desperate, “Mom, if you don’t let me go, I’ll kill myself right now!” “No, no, no, my darling daughter. Mom agrees, you can go.” I hid behind the door, listening to this mother-daughter duo fantasizing about their bright future, and almost laughed out loud. A good place? Don’t be foolish! Survival itself would be a challenge. I knew Lily had also gone back in time, just like me. In my previous life, she saw me make big money through investments and buy a villa, thinking it was all because I had gone to Japan and struck gold. Little did she know that what she saw was just the glamorous surface. Only I knew what kind of inhuman treatment awaited in Japan.

I pushed the door open at the right moment. Lily looked at me as if facing a formidable enemy. Aunt Sarah looked at me hesitantly, “Zoe, do you want to come with me?” I shook my head silently. Lily turned back and glared at me fiercely, then suddenly knelt down and hugged Aunt Sarah’s legs. “Auntie, my dear Auntie, please take me with you. My sister has always been naughty and disobedient, not like me who’s so well-behaved. I promise I’ll take good care of you in the future.” Seeing Lily’s determination, Mom swallowed her sadness and chimed in, “Yes, our Lily is very filial. Please take her with you.” Aunt Sarah, still not giving up, came to my side and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go? Life with me will be a thousand times better than here. Don’t you want to live a comfortable life?” I stepped back and refused, “Auntie, I don’t want to go live in Japan.” Aunt Sarah, seeing that I was so difficult to persuade, had no choice but to say, “Well then, I’ll take Lily.” Lily’s eyes lit up, and she sweetly held Aunt Sarah’s hand, calling her “Mom.” This “Mom” made me feel sick. I secretly glanced at my mom, who turned away, her eyes filled with sorrow. As Aunt Sarah was leaving with Lily to handle the paperwork, she couldn’t help but mock me, “You don’t know what a great opportunity you’re giving up. No matter how hard you try, what future can you have in this poor, backward place?” I laughed coldly in my heart. I knew why Aunt Sarah wanted me. Because I was more obedient and prettier than my sister, and after coming of age, I would be an obedient money-making machine. Lily was overjoyed that she could go to Japan. These days, she couldn’t stop gloating and mocking me. “Zoe! I’m about to change my destiny and become someone important, while you’ll be stuck here as a nobody for the rest of your life.” I tried to contain the joy in my heart and pretended to ask innocently, “How can just going to Japan make you someone important?” Lily laughed at me, “Silly! I’m going to enjoy a good life, and also…” She lowered her head and whispered in my ear, “I might even find a handsome and rich Japanese husband!” After saying this, Lily looked at me as if I were an ant, as if she were the one who had gotten a golden opportunity. I smiled slightly and sincerely wished her, “Then I hope all your dreams come true.”

The paperwork was quickly completed. On the day of farewell, Mom was particularly reluctant to let go of Lily’s hand, reminding her to keep in touch and not forget her birth mother. Lily impatiently shook off her mother’s hand, “Alright, I know, you’re so annoying. Don’t you know international calls are expensive? Don’t contact me unless it’s really important.” Mom’s eyes turned red after being yelled at, but she remained silent. This submissive expression made my heart ache. In my previous life, I didn’t want to go at all, but Mom couldn’t bear to part with Lily and was eager to send me away. When I left home, I cried and begged Mom to change her mind and let me stay. Do you know what she said? Oh, she counted the money Aunt Sarah gave her and said, “Once you’re gone, don’t come back. Just send money in the future, or I won’t acknowledge you as my daughter.” Hah! How ridiculous. She heartlessly gave me away, and legally, I was no longer her daughter anyway. After seeing Lily off, I was overjoyed inside. My dear sister, are you ready to go to hell? This time, I finally don’t have to live a life worse than death like in my previous life. After returning home, Mom looked at me with disdain and said, “I don’t see any use in you studying. You might as well quit school and get a job. You’ll end up getting married sooner or later anyway.” I couldn’t help but feel sad. Mom had never liked me. When she was pregnant with me, everyone said it looked like a boy, and she told everyone she was having a son. Unexpectedly, when I was born a girl, Mom rolled her eyes and nearly fainted from anger. Although Dad was also a bit disappointed, he didn’t dislike me because of it. But Mom started hating me from the moment I was born, saying I had killed the son who should have been born, that I must be an evil girl. Lily was overjoyed, knowing that if there was another brother, her position would be threatened. From a young age, Lily joined Mom in bullying me. I fought back and even complained to Dad, but all I got was a beating. After Dad fell ill and passed away, Mom became even more unrestrained. If it weren’t for the government subsidies she could get by keeping me, she would have abandoned me without hesitation.

Not long after my sister left, Mom couldn’t wait to make me drop out of school and get a job. I couldn’t quit school. I knew clearly that knowledge could change one’s fate. I subtly coaxed Mom into believing that I would definitely get a job after I became an adult, while secretly studying hard. My homeroom teacher told me that the school had a scholarship spot. If I could get it, I could go to college for free. I knew this was my only chance, so I studied even harder. Every night, after Mom fell asleep, I would secretly light a candle to study. Although life was tough, it was heaven compared to my previous life. Perhaps even heaven favored me, and I finally got the scholarship. The teacher wanted to share this good news with my family, but I shook my head and asked her to keep it a secret. Mom, in order to prevent me from going to college, deliberately didn’t let me go to the interview. I remembered that in my previous life, Lily went to an expensive but terrible school. At that time, Mom was willing to sell everything to pay for Lily’s tuition at that awful school, but now she wasn’t willing to let me go to college. But it didn’t matter anymore. I was going to leave this place, leave this suffocating environment. I still secretly went to the interview. When Mom was running around with a stick looking for me, I had already boarded the train to college. The travel expenses were given by Uncle Zhang, my dad’s old friend. I told him I would definitely pay him back tenfold in the future. Uncle Zhang waved his hand and said with sympathy, “You’re a poor child. Go, and don’t come back.” College life was wonderful. Although what I ate and wore couldn’t compare to my classmates, I was already very satisfied. Calculating the time, Lily should have met Kenji Suzuki, my husband from my previous life. I think she would definitely seize the opportunity and beg him to take her away. Ridiculous. How could she think that Japanese man was good? She had no idea that in my previous life, I only went with Kenji Suzuki to escape from Aunt Sarah. Kenji Suzuki looked gentle and handsome on the surface, but he was actually a thorough domestic abuser. Lily thought Aunt Sarah would love her like her own daughter, but that wasn’t the case at all. Aunt Sarah married that old Japanese man just to get a green card and engage in illegal activities in Japan. As soon as I arrived, I was forced to train in some disgusting Japanese phrases to please men, and that old Japanese man in Aunt Sarah’s house was a pervert who often made me wear bunny ears and a maid outfit to dance in front of him. Countless times I wanted to run away, but I was unfamiliar with the place and couldn’t even speak the language, so I had no idea who to ask for help. After I came of age, Aunt Sarah made me entertain clients at her factory. It was then that I knew what despair was. Under the neon lights of debauchery, I lived a ghost-like life every day, like a broken doll. Until Kenji appeared. He knew some Chinese and asked if I wanted to go with him. I had no choice but to nod. I thought my life would get a little better, but I didn’t expect to fall from one abyss into another. Kenji had violent tendencies. After I went with him, he would beat me every few days, which later developed into beating me every day. When he was in a good mood, I learned Japanese from him. I endured humiliation and hardship to make a living, washing dishes, carrying heavy goods, and countless times sleeping on the street to avoid being beaten. Later, I finally found a chance to return to my country. Suddenly, I wonder how far Lily can persist?

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I’m just an innocent little flower protected by my brother. The girl who bullies me likes my brother and wants me to introduce them. But she doesn’t know that my brother will kill anyone who has ever bullied me. My brother buries his face in my neck, breathing heavily. “Aria, you smell so good.” I tremble beneath him. “Let go of me.” He’s holding me too tightly. My brother laughs. “You’ll have to let go of me first, Aria.” “You’re gripping me so tightly down there, how can I let go?” He forces tears from my eyes. I frantically slap his shoulders. He reaches out to wipe away the tears from the corner of my eye, then sucks his finger into his mouth. “Aria, you look so beautiful when you cry.” “…”

I jolt awake from the dream, clutching my blanket tightly. How could I dream about doing that with my brother… I must be going crazy! It must be because of my condition that I… Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone standing by my bed. My pupils constrict in fear. Isn’t the house supposed to be empty today except for me? Seeing that I’m awake, the person walks over to my bedside. As the moonlight falls on him, I finally make out his face. It’s my brother. But this doesn’t relax me at all. If anything, it makes me even more afraid. I know my brother is more terrifying than any psycho killer. Seeing my disheveled state, my brother reaches out to wipe my face. I don’t move. Even when his fingers trail from my cheek down to my collarbone and chest, I still don’t move. I don’t want to show weakness in front of him. It would only make him crazier. He raises his hand and suddenly yanks off the blanket. I hurriedly press my legs together. My brother laughs. “Aria, how can you still be wetting the bed at your age?” There’s a wet patch on the sheets. It’s not from wetting the bed, it’s… My face flushes red uncontrollably. My brother says: “Who were you dreaming about, Aria?” I choke out: “No one.” “Oh?” My brother chuckles softly. “But you kept calling out ‘brother’.” It’s like he’s hit a sore spot. I bristle defensively. “You’re making that up! How could I?” “If it wasn’t me.” My brother looks at me but says: “Aria, you’ve changed.” “You used to always seduce me like a little vixen, but now you’re like a frightened rabbit.” My body starts trembling uncontrollably. “Get out! I never seduced you!” I really didn’t. Back then I just didn’t understand anything. How can you slander me like this?

My brother is a pervert who lusts after me. The first time I realized this was probably when I graduated high school. That day I was watching TV in the living room, my feet propped up on the coffee table, painted toenails swaying gently. My brother sat down next to me and said: “Aria, your feet must be cold.” His fingers twitched a couple times before landing on my feet, massaging them. His touch was just right, very soothing. I dozed off. But half-asleep, I opened my eyes to see my brother’s usually cold expression twisted with desire. And my foot was pressed against his… My heart pounded wildly. An indescribable feeling welled up inside me. I felt so ashamed. I wanted to cry. No wonder my brother never let me date anyone. No wonder my underwear would mysteriously appear in his bedroom. No wonder he was always finding excuses to get close to my body. All those strange signs from before suddenly became clear. But I’m trapped in this house, with no way to escape.

My brother chuckles softly, his tone teasing: “My sweet Aria, I know you can’t bear to be apart from me.” Suddenly, my brother’s gaze falls on my neck. His pupils constrict. The next moment I’m pinned to the bed as he yanks open my collar. My brother demands harshly: “Who bullied you?” It’s over. Even though I’ve been bundling up in the summer, my brother has still seen the injuries on my body. They’re from when Olivia and her gang beat me up at lunch. But I can’t tell my brother that. Tears are forced from my eyes. I shake my head: “No one. No one bullied me.” He stares at me intently. My eyes are full of pleading. “Aria is being naughty,” he says. This position also makes me feel violated. I just want this to end quickly. “Go away. Don’t stay in my room.” His breath fans against my neck. Hatred flashes in my eyes. “Don’t make me hate you.” He sighs helplessly, finally getting up. The door slams shut. I start trembling, curling up in my blanket. My brother is gone, but not completely. The camera in the corner of the room keeps blinking green. A sticky gaze remains fixed on me. I know my brother will be watching my every move. Until dawn breaks.

At midnight, I hide in the camera’s blind spot, crouching down. I cover my mouth, my whole body shaking as tears stream from my eyes. What should I do? Just yesterday, the people who bully me found out that Lucas is my brother. They said they want me to introduce them to my brother. But they don’t know that if my brother finds out someone’s been bullying me, he’ll kill them.

In middle school, my best friend spread rumors that I was a slut, photoshopping nude pictures of me. The whole grade of over 2,000 students was calling me a whore in the group chat. At that time, I kept seeing that best friend around my brother. My brother would buy her bubble tea, pick her up from school, help her with homework. He’d even smile gently and pat her head. Angrily, I said: “I don’t want to see her.” My brother smiled. “Alright, Aria.” “Whatever you say.” That night, my brother came home very late. When I opened the door, I saw my brother wearing a black jacket, slowly taking off red gloves. No, the gloves were white originally, just stained red with something. Seeing me, he walked over and led me to the bedroom, gently coaxing me to sleep. But I could smell a faint scent of blood on my brother. My brother said casually: “I was just helping a friend slaughter a chicken.” I never imagined my brother’s hands that wrote legal documents would slaughter chickens. But the next day, my best friend was found dead in her own room. The blood spatter at the scene was shocking. Even though she had dozens of wounds on her body, the police ruled it a suicide. Because of that certificate of severe depression, and that suicide note. The note said she felt guilty towards me, was under a lot of pressure, had been self-harming for a while, and regretted spreading those rumors about me. So she chose to end her life then. The note was posted in the group chat. The rumors about me were debunked, and many people came to apologize to me. But I realized that when my brother was helping my best friend with homework, he had already perfected imitating her handwriting. … In high school, my math teacher would always use tutoring as an excuse to take me to his office. He would do strange things to me and tell me not to tell my parents. I said I don’t have parents, only a brother. He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Then let’s keep this a secret from your brother together.” But when my brother couldn’t find me after school one day, he burst in, discovering everything. The math teacher used his authority to pressure the police into not investigating. My brother was just a poor student then, powerless to fight back. He quietly transferred me to a new school, telling me to forget everything. After moving to our new home, my brother started keeping a vicious dog. He wouldn’t let me touch it, just fed it himself every day. Much later, the math teacher caught an STD from fooling around. Then one day on an old, run-down school building… The railing gave way, and the math teacher fell straight down. When he was found, his lower parts were missing. The police determined the fall was an accident, and those parts had been eaten by a dog. The day the news broadcast, my brother sat laughing in front of the TV. He turned to ask me: “Aria, do you like this gift?” That day was my 16th birthday. My brother had just returned from that school building that morning. I looked at him, feeling my heart sink inch by inch. Even though my brother seemed to dote on me so much, I still lived in fear every day. Afraid of angering him and being devoured by him.

The next day, I went to school and entered the classroom. But as soon as I opened the door, a bucket of water came crashing down on my head, drenching me completely. Immediately after, the room erupted in raucous laughter. The whole class was laughing, everyone delighting in seeing me soaked like a drowned rat. I stood frozen in place, aware of a foul odor emanating from my body. Olivia walked up. She wanted to slap my face like before, but hesitated and drew back her hand. She said smugly: “Jack specially scooped this water from the toilet. A few classmates even took a piss in it.” So it wasn’t water, but urine. I wanted to ask for leave to go home and wash up, even if it meant skipping class. But Jack and Chris blocked my way out. Olivia said: “Skipping class is a bad habit. If you dare leave, I’ll tell my dad to expel you. You believe me, don’t you?” Olivia is my classmate, and also the principal’s daughter. I worked so hard to get into this school. I can’t be expelled. Olivia knows this, so she always uses it to threaten me. I could only walk back to my seat step by step. Along the way, everyone covered their mouths, looking at me with disgust. I opened my textbook to find it filled with vicious words written in red pen. “Whore!” “Slut!” That was Alex’s handwriting. I lowered my eyes to see the camera lens hidden in my desk drawer blinking green. Voices sounded around me. Alex said: “I can’t believe this bitch is actually Lucas’s sister!” Jack said: “A dog and a heartthrob, who could’ve imagined that combination?” Chris said: “They can’t be blood related. Wonder how that bitch latched onto Lucas.” … My brother graduated from Oxford Law School. He’s still a legend there even years after graduating. No one could believe someone like me was the sister of someone like him. My brother and I aren’t actually blood siblings. I was adopted by his parents when I was 8, but soon after his parents died in a car accident. So people always said my bad luck caused their deaths. I don’t know if my brother resented me for that back then, but regardless, he still raised me. Many times I’ve hated that I’m not his real sister. Maybe then the shackles of blood relation could restrain this madman, keep him from being so unrestrained with me.

No one would team up with me for PE class. I snuck back to the dorm to change clothes, but was pulled into the equipment room on my way back. Olivia stood there with Jack and his gang, looking down at me imperiously. She stepped forward, ignoring my struggles as she yanked off my clothes and shoved me to the ground. My arms scraped against the floor, leaving bloody scratches. I covered my chest with my hands, trembling. Looking at each of them, I asked: “Why? Why me?” Olivia laughed mockingly: “Because you’re a bitch in heat, that’s why.” “You’re so desperate, of course we have to satisfy you.” Even though Olivia and the others now know Lucas is my brother, they don’t care at all. That day, Olivia had her foot on my shoulder, her hand viciously gripping my face. “What? Are you going to tell anyone about this?” I shook my head, tears streaming down. “No, I won’t say anything.” Finally satisfied, she patted my face. “Good bitch.” Jack looked at me, his eyes full of lust. “I heard people with that condition are extra sensitive.” Chris said: “Wonder if she’s still a virgin?” Alex said: “I’ve wanted to strip her clothes off for so long. Who would’ve thought such an innocent face could be so slutty in private?” They were all tall and strong, closing in on me like that nightmare from a month ago. I was cornered against the wall as they all started taking off their clothes. Olivia sat on the desk, filming us with her phone flashlight on. If the security guard hadn’t come by on patrol, I probably would have been molested then… But now, it seems I can’t escape. I stared at them blankly, suddenly breaking down. My constant yielding had only made them more aggressive. “Just because I have that condition, does that mean I deserve to be abused?”

I have sex addiction. I first found out about this condition when I was a freshman in high school. I was really scared at first, often researching it alone late at night. When I finally understood it, I emerged from my room in a daze. I’ve never even had sex, how could I have this condition? I gritted my teeth, not daring to tell anyone, not even my brother. But when I started college, Olivia stole my phone and accidentally discovered that diagnosis photo. From that day on, my peaceful campus life was over. Even though I hadn’t done anything, everyone thought I was naturally promiscuous. “Bitch”, “slut”, “whore” – these words followed me throughout college. But I’ve been holding back so hard, trying so desperately to act like a normal person!

Their hands reached for my body. Tears streamed from my eyes. I looked at Olivia. “I promise, I’ll introduce you to my brother.” Olivia already hated me, but after discovering I was Lucas’s sister, she hated me even more. But she still hoped to meet Lucas through me, to date her former crush. As soon as I said this, she froze. Her goal achieved, she smirked. “We’ll let you off this time.” Jack got agitated. “You’re playing us!” Olivia slapped him hard. “Shut up.” Because her family was richer than all of them, everyone listened to her. They glanced at me, reluctantly withdrawing their hands. Olivia looked triumphant, clapping her hands. “See, wasn’t that easy?” She doesn’t know, I’m just trying to protect her. But since she wants me to know my place. She can just die.

That afternoon after school, she linked arms with me, acting all friendly as we arrived at the school gates. Jack and the others followed behind, also wanting to meet my brother. He was already leaning against a Porsche waiting for me. My brother affectionately tapped my nose. “Why are you letting me pick you up today?” My brother never uses this tone with others. Olivia’s expression changed. She dug her nails into my arm, breaking the skin. My brother noticed her and asked me: “This is…?” Olivia immediately said: “Hi senior, I’m Aria’s friend. We’re super close~” Jack and the other guys quickly chimed in: “Yeah, Lucas. That’s why she brought us to meet you.” “We had no idea she had such an amazing brother.” My brother’s gaze swept over my slightly trembling body. I hurriedly pulled down my sleeve to hide the scratches Olivia had left, but he still saw them. My brother’s eyes darkened, but he still nodded politely to them. “Hello.” Then he said to me: “Didn’t you say you wanted to go to the amusement park? I’m free today, let’s go.” Olivia dug her nails into me again. I got her meaning and stammered: “My friends all want to go too. Can we bring them along?” My brother never refuses my requests, so he opened the Porsche door. “Kids, get in.” Olivia immediately said sweetly: “Thanks, big bro.” Hearing this, I instinctively looked at her, my body trembling uncontrollably. I had begged her not to call Lucas “big bro”. But it’s like she’s deliberately going against me, still calling him that. She doesn’t know, my brother only allows me to call him that. Sure enough, my brother’s expression changed when he heard it. Olivia sensed something was off and asked innocently: “What’s wrong?” My brother looked at her, his eyes darker than the night, but he laughed softly. “You have a lovely voice.” Olivia lowered her head shyly. “If you like it, I’ll call you that more next time.” I heard Jack and the guys snickering behind me. “Looks like Olivia’s about to marry into money.” “The senior must like Olivia too, why else would he say that?” I gently touched where she had just dug her nails into me, thinking: My brother said that because he wants to slit Olivia’s throat. Because the last person who called him “big bro” died just like that.

My brother is very busy, but today he specially took a day off to entertain my friends. The amusement park was completely empty, not even any staff around. My brother looked at me tenderly, telling them: “I invested in building this amusement park.” “I originally wanted a quiet day alone with Aria, so I had the park close for the day and sent all the staff home.” “If I’d known you were coming too, I would have kept some staff.” Olivia glared at me hatefully. Jack and Chris sighed in admiration at my brother’s wealth and influence. Alex volunteered eagerly: “Senior, then let me try being an amusement park staff.” “I’ve done that kind of work before.” His family is poor, so he often works part-time jobs. The first ride we went on was the river rapids. We put on raincoats and got into the raft. After Alex pressed the start button, the raft carried us into a colorful cave. I tilted my head back, admiring the beautiful projections on the cave walls. I felt my brother’s hand gently rest on my thigh.

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I had just given birth to my daughter a month ago when my husband, Garrett, wanted to have sex with me. I refused, but then I discovered his chat history as a client of prostitutes. The photo showed a young, fair-skinned girl with a seductive gaze. My supposedly frugal husband was even trying to haggle the price by playing the pity card to save money. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. A man who’s been tainted should stay as far away as possible. My husband, Garrett, was supposed to be a frugal, good man. But he was so stingy that he even tried to haggle with prostitutes by shedding crocodile tears. When I accidentally saw the disgusting chat history on his unlocked phone, I was instantly shaking with anger. It showed that on April 7th, he had found a local beauty on TikTok. He even compared prices and chose the cheapest one. When discussing the price, he tried to haggle by playing the pity card: “I have an 80-year-old mother and a newborn child to support… Can you give me a discount this time? How about $50 less?” After getting a compromise, the woman asked him to book a hotel room. He hesitated for a long time and asked if he could come to his home when his wife was out. The woman exploded with profanity: “You fucking cheapskate! You can’t even afford a room and still want to find a woman? Dream on! You poor bastard, your wife really hit the jackpot marrying you!” After that, she blocked my husband. I didn’t find any transfer records either. Apparently, it was his empty wallet that forced him to extinguish his lustful fire in its infancy. I remembered that April 7th was my birthday. That evening, Garrett had specially prepared a big dinner and even shamelessly said he wanted to have sex with me, which I refused because my body hadn’t recovered yet. I never expected he would turn around and try to hire a prostitute! No wonder they say that married men’s phones are almost always a sure bet – there’s no such thing as an absolutely clean man. But when I confronted him, Garrett showed no remorse at all. He even let out a disdainful “huh.” “You can still yell. I see you’re not weak at all,” he said. “I’m a man with normal physiological needs. What’s wrong with wanting to relax occasionally? I didn’t actually hire a prostitute. I’ve been holding back long enough during your pregnancy. I took care of you when you were in the hospital, bringing you food and helping you use the bathroom… Am I not good enough?” His words, accompanied by flying spittle, hit my face. He sounded so self-righteous. I silently closed my eyes. This was the consequence of my impulsive decision to marry and have a child, blinded by love. Smelling his breath, I suddenly felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom to vomit. At that moment, I felt a dull pain in my lower abdomen. Sitting on the toilet, I noticed some bleeding. I felt weak and dizzy, with no strength left. “Honey, my stomach hurts, and I’m bleeding a little. Can you take me to the hospital first?” I asked. But Garrett thought I was faking it and scoffed. “Why are you making such a fuss? Stop pretending. Do you want me to call an ambulance and send you to the ICU?” His sarcasm was almost the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I blacked out and finally fainted next to the toilet. When I opened my eyes again, it was broad daylight, and I was lying in a hospital bed. The doctor happened to be doing rounds. “Patient Zoe in bed 07, you had postpartum hemorrhage last night. There were retained products of conception that weren’t fully expelled. Combined with emotional distress, mood swings can lead to postpartum hemorrhage.” Seeing my husband dozing off by the bed, his eyelids heavy with sleep, I quickly asked him where our child was. “I’ve already asked my mom to take care of her. Don’t worry, focus on getting better,” he said. Perhaps my pale and weak appearance stirred a bit of conscience in him. He held my hand guiltily and said, “Zoe, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I had a few drinks yesterday and dared to lose my temper with you. I forgot you haven’t fully recovered after giving birth.” I narrowed my eyes and pulled my hand away from his. He should know what explanation I was waiting for. Garrett sighed. “I did… look for women online, but I’m frugal and didn’t actually go through with it! As you saw, I was just curious for a moment. I really know I was wrong.”

Before this, I had never checked my husband’s phone. It stemmed from my belief in the beauty of marriage, thinking that trust should come first between spouses. But this accidental discovery of his online search for women made me doubt everything. Garrett said he didn’t dare to actually go through with it, fearing sexually transmitted diseases. He just thought about it. “How could I dare to hire a prostitute? I was just frustrated during your postpartum period. You wouldn’t agree to have sex, so I had some wayward thoughts. But I definitely wouldn’t dare to actually do it. I was just talking to satisfy my urges,” he said. That night, he wrote me a promise letter and repeatedly apologized until I finally let the matter drop. However, I still felt uneasy deep down. After being discharged and recovering, I went to vent to my best friend. My best friend had just ended a failed marriage, the reason being her husband’s infidelity. I told her, “Garrett’s emotional cheating, I guess. After all, he didn’t actually hire a prostitute or find a mistress. Our child is still so young, maybe I can tolerate it for now.” But my friend said I had “pregnancy brain.” “Do you know what my ex-husband said when we divorced? Out of ten men over thirty, nine have hired prostitutes. And to avoid being caught through transfer records, they all use cash.” I took her words to heart. When I got home that evening, my mother-in-law, who had been looking after my daughter, had already packed up and returned to her hometown as soon as she heard I was coming back. Only my daughter’s piercing cries remained in the house. I picked up my daughter with a heavy heart and complained to my husband about his mother leaving without saying goodbye. Garrett was very displeased: “My mom is getting on in years. It’s already good enough that she can look after the child for you!” I retorted directly: “If she didn’t want to take care of the child from the beginning, she didn’t have to come. I could have asked my mom to come over! You were the one who actively asked your mother to come. And what do you mean ‘look after the child for me’? Aren’t you the child’s father?” Garrett was stumped and turned away, muttering under his breath. “Huh, only you would know if I’m really the father…” I took a deep breath, feeling like there was a mountain pressing on my chest. I didn’t want to say another word. My month-old daughter was still crying incessantly, her voice hoarse. No matter how I tried to comfort her, it was to no avail. “Damn it, so annoying,” Garrett cursed. Unable to bear her crying, he swore and stormed out to stay at a hotel. At six in the morning, after a sleepless night, I finally welcomed my child’s maternal grandmother. My mom, who often heard old people in the village talk about superstitions, said that this time the baby might have seen something unclean and was frightened out of her wits, which is called infant convulsions. So, my child’s grandmother and I tried calling back her soul and patting her, struggling for two whole days before she got better. We were exhausted to the point of seeing stars. During these two days, Garrett didn’t come home at night. He came back drunk early this morning and fell asleep on the couch. I was already so tired that my vision was blurry. As I bent down to tidy up, I unconsciously moved the weight scale. As a result, it automatically displayed the last measurement data: “Your last measured weight was 99 lbs, on April 12th at 19:31.” I had maintained a weight of 114 lbs for over a year, and I was in the hospital yesterday. It couldn’t have been me. So who measured it? This weight seemed to be that of a woman, and many people instinctively step on a scale when they see one. I frowned, suddenly noticing a strange smell. I carefully crouched down. Sure enough, I smelled a faint scent of sex on the back of the couch. He actually brought a woman home and cheated on the couch in front of our daughter! I was burning with anger, finally understanding why my daughter had been frightened into convulsions. I could only imagine how intense their activity must have been. At this moment, Garrett let out a satisfied snore, smacked his lips, and turned over. The phone he had been lying on fell to the floor.

I quickly checked his phone again. It wasn’t password-protected and showed nothing unusual. However, when I took out the wallet from his jacket pocket, a SIM card ejector pin fell out. Who would carry this around? Could it be that he frequently changes SIM cards? Sure enough, in a hidden compartment, I found another SIM card belonging to Garrett. After inserting it into the phone, all the cloud-backed information records appeared. I was already numb with anger but couldn’t help but mock him — What a frugal good man indeed, too stingy to even buy a spare phone, having to constantly swap SIM cards just to cheat. The message records were overflowing with obscene content. The other party said she was a college student working part-time, a good girl with excellent academic performance, clean and hygienic. Garrett asked: “Baby, send me a photo. Let me see if you’re really a college student.” She sent a photo of herself in black fishnet stockings, partially covering her face like embracing a pipa. She was dressed as a sexy wild cat, with full silicone breasts and an alluring peach-shaped bottom. This is exactly what men like. “Hot enough for you, baby?” she asked. But you could tell from the background that it was a dorm room, and her clothes were cheap. No wonder she accepted the meager offerings from my stingy husband, calling a sleazy man over a decade older than her “baby.” My husband was grinning from ear to ear. “I like you, baby.” After one “transaction,” Garrett sent her a message: “I didn’t bring enough money this time. I’ll definitely make it up next time!” “Okay, baby,” she agreed readily. He could even get credit? Looking closely, I realized that my husband had been lying about being a big boss who often forgets to bring cash, all to get credit. The young girl’s price wasn’t low, and he even spent a few dozen dollars to send her a fake designer bag. So the girl believed him. Indeed, naive young girls are the easiest to fool. They’re no match for older men. When she asked Garrett, “Baby, is your wife very ugly?” Garrett seriously replied, “Don’t talk nonsense. My wife just gave birth and is very busy taking care of the family. She controls the family finances, otherwise I wouldn’t need to ask you for credit.” Laughable. My husband is truly touching. How can he completely separate his cheating body from his supposedly caring heart for his wife? I took a deep breath, looking at the man sleeping soundly on the couch, trying hard to calm my nerves after just recovering from illness. Many married women at this point might choose to turn a blind eye, considering their husband’s contribution to the family. But I won’t. A man who has touched roadside flowers is too dirty. I don’t want him. He can get as far away as possible. But before kicking him out, I must make him pay for hurting me and our daughter! … That night, I didn’t startle the snake in the grass. In my current exhausted state, being hysterical would only backfire. The first thing I did was go to the hospital for HIV and other STD screenings. Only after confirming I was fine did I breathe a sigh of relief. My best friend had used some high-tech methods when catching her ex-husband cheating. She gave me a voice recorder, “Cheating and hiring prostitutes are essentially the same. They both betray your marriage. Only by obtaining evidence to prove he’s at fault can you gain more rights legally.” Although TV dramas are full of scenes of catching cheaters red-handed, it’s not so easy in reality. Stingy men’s thoughts are not as simple as their wallets, but rather more profound. He even knows to check for hidden cameras when traveling, so setting up cameras at home to spy would definitely not work. I gripped the voice recorder in my hand, outwardly calm, dutifully taking care of our daughter. I also became gentler in my attitude towards my husband. Even when he threw his smelly socks at my feet, I still greeted him with a smile. He became a bit uneasy, “Honey, why has your temper changed so much? I’m even a little flattered.” I smiled and said it might be due to postpartum hormonal changes, and that my irritable phase had passed. Garrett finally breathed a sigh of relief. To make a person expose their flaws, you must catch them when they’re most relaxed. One evening in late April, I endured nausea and watched an adult movie with him, even letting him take Viagra. In the end, I refused to have sex with him again, citing physical discomfort. His desire had risen but he was met with a closed door. He immediately became furious. “Zoe, what’s wrong with you! Are you looking for a wild man outside to satisfy you?” My silence provoked him even more. This time I didn’t tolerate his abuse. Instead, I talked back, holding our daughter and declaring I was going back to my mother’s house. “Go back then! Don’t think about using any money from my salary card once you’re gone!” Garrett shouted in his rage. In his fury, he didn’t forget to snatch away the salary card he had just given me a few days ago. I laughed coldly, turned around without looking back, and left with our daughter. The voice recorder I left in the bedroom went unnoticed by him. I knew clearly that the effects of that Viagra pill wouldn’t let him give up so easily. I didn’t leave the community. Instead, after entrusting my daughter to my best friend’s care, I personally staked out in the car downstairs. Sure enough, an hour later, I spotted a beautiful silhouette. The girl looked about twenty, with unremarkable features, but her silicone-filled body was like an inflatable doll, resembling a ripe peach about to burst. However, the pretty girl hesitated for a long time downstairs without going up. Instead, she called Garrett. On the voice recorder’s end, my husband excitedly said: “Come up quickly, I can’t wait another second. I’m about to explode. I took Viagra today and even put on a pain relief patch. My herniated disc doesn’t hurt anymore!” But this time, the girl paused for a moment. “Mr. Parker, I came this time to ask for the payment from our previous encounters.” “If you’re not willing to settle the full amount at once, I won’t come up,” she said. Garrett was silent for a long time on the other end. The girl explained that every time he said “definitely next time,” he also promised to add interest. So this time, she was asking for the principal plus interest. There was no cash at home, and if Garrett chose to transfer online, it would inevitably leave a trail. I was very curious how my extremely stingy husband would handle this fee of several thousand dollars. But I never expected that on the recorder’s end, a man’s crying sound would suddenly be heard.

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My dad is an Oscar-winning actor. My mom is the top Hollywood agent. To help my boyfriend, I, someone who has never appeared on TV, joined him in a dating reality show. But I never expected to see him confess his love to another girl. “Mia, it’s all thanks to your uncle that I got the chance to join this reality show. I didn’t know you had such an impressive uncle,” Kyle said, beaming with excitement. As a C-list celebrity, getting to be part of Director Jacob Scott’s show was like winning the lottery. Seeing Kyle so happy made me smile, too. After all, I had begged my dad for this favor. Of course, I lied to Kyle—there was no uncle. It was my Oscar-winning father and top-agent mother who made a simple phone call to get me on the show. “Oh, and there’s something else,” I added. “Director Scott gave me two spots, so I’ll also be joining the show as a non-celebrity.” This was my first time stepping into the public eye. My parents had always protected me, so except for Uncle Jacob, no one knew my real identity. Kyle looked a bit stunned when he heard this. “Mia, don’t you prefer the quiet? Won’t this show be too much for you?” As a writer, I’ve grown used to working in peaceful surroundings. I shook my head and smiled. “It’s fine. I can’t stay in quiet spaces forever. It’ll be fun to try something different.” Kyle quickly recovered. “Mia, that’s great! Let’s go on the show together and let the entire country witness our love.”

This was the third season of the dating show, “Love & Paradise,” and since the first two seasons had great ratings, the third one was highly anticipated. Four couples, six of whom were celebrities, and two, including me, were non-celebrities. One of the stars, Chloe Baker, was a huge draw, with half the audience tuning in just for her. To help the contestants bond, we were taken straight to a boat upon arrival, heading to a private island for filming. Kyle, trying to avoid suspicion, didn’t speak to me much and instead laughed and chatted with the other stars. I felt a bit disappointed but understood. If it became known that we were already dating, the audience would definitely criticize us for not being genuine. I glanced over at another non-celebrity, Evan Riley. At 6’1″, tall and handsome, with a cool, distant vibe, he certainly stood out. But once the others heard he was just an office worker, their interest in him faded. After all, everyone here was looking for fame, and an ordinary office worker wouldn’t bring much buzz. It was summer, and the sun was brutal, even out on the water. The other stars, including Kyle, didn’t want to get sunburned, so they all planned to head indoors. “Mia, aren’t you coming inside? You’ll get sunburned out here,” Chloe said sweetly, though her eyes flashed with something less friendly. I caught it right away. I didn’t know why she had it out for me. I glanced at Kyle, but he didn’t even look my way, let alone say anything.

The show hadn’t even started yet, and the avoidance was already this extreme? Feeling more disappointed, I replied, “No, I’m fine. You guys go ahead.” “Chloe, you’re too kind. Some people just don’t appreciate good intentions. Best to ignore them in the future,” Sarah Bennett, another actress, chimed in. I looked at Sarah, a supporting actress who was pretty enough but whose calculating gaze made her seem less attractive. “Is that so?” Chloe said softly. “I was just trying to be friendly, but I guess I overstepped.” What on earth? I hadn’t even refused to go inside—how did this turn into a whole scene? Before the filming even began, they’d already pushed me and Evan to the sidelines, and Kyle hadn’t defended me once. Soon, we arrived at the destination. I was shocked as I looked around, recognizing the place immediately. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was my family’s estate. My dad loves traveling and has bought several properties on private islands, all designed by world-renowned architects. No wonder Uncle Jacob had insisted I come along—he wanted to use our estate for the shoot.

Chloe and the others were awestruck by the estate’s luxury. “This place is gorgeous!” “It must cover hundreds of acres!” “Waking up to an ocean view every day—what a dream!” While they were all buzzing with excitement, I stood quietly to the side. My dad had brought my mom and me here several times. The first visit was exciting, but after a few trips, the novelty wore off. My dad moved on to exploring other islands, so we hadn’t been here in a long time. Noticing my silence, Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Mia, why aren’t you saying anything? Not happy with the filming location?” “Chloe, I think you might be misunderstanding Mia. She’s probably just stunned, having never seen an estate this grand before,” Sarah said, attempting to sound witty but only coming across as smug. Sure, I thought. Even these stars hadn’t seen a place like this before. What were they expecting from me? I glanced at Kyle, expecting him to maybe say something, but he only looked annoyed. Wait—was he embarrassed by me? “Hah, it’s just an estate. My family has plenty. I’m not talking because I’m not like you—easily impressed,” I snapped back, my patience finally wearing thin.

Chloe and the others didn’t take it well, their faces stiffening. After all, they really had looked like people who’d never seen such grandeur before. “Wow, big talk! Your family owns multiple estates? Why don’t you just say this estate belongs to you, Mia? It’s daytime, you don’t need to start dreaming yet,” Sarah sneered, crossing her arms. I was about ready to drop my luggage and leave, if not for Uncle Jacob’s show. Seeing that I was upset, Uncle Jacob quickly stepped in as a peacemaker. “Alright, let’s move on and get ready to start filming. Everyone, head to the living room for a break,” he said. With that, the group reluctantly dropped the conversation and headed inside. Kyle, dragging his feet, waited until the others were inside before approaching me. “Mia, watch what you say. This is going to air nationwide, and you’ll be the one who looks bad,” he said, pretending to be concerned. “What do you mean I’ll look bad? Kyle, didn’t you hear what they said about me? I’m your girlfriend.” I stared at him, completely disillusioned. I never thought he could say something like this. “Mia,” he glanced around nervously. “We agreed to keep our relationship quiet, remember? Besides, don’t mess with Chloe. Her fanbase could bury you with hate.” Wow, the way he said “Chloe” sounded so affectionate. I gave Kyle a cold look. Maybe it was time to reconsider this relationship.

Once inside, Uncle Jacob announced the start of filming. The first game involved winning room assignments. We would pair up and play games to decide the room selections. If we were judging by physique, Evan Riley, tall and fit, would be the first pick. But since he was a non-celebrity, Chloe and Sarah passed on him. Chloe turned to Kyle. “Kyle, I want the first room on the left.” Kyle, oozing confidence, replied, “I’ve got it covered.” What a jerk. My usually mild temper was starting to boil over. I marched up to Evan. “Let’s team up. I want that first room on the left, too.” Evan raised an amused eyebrow and quietly agreed, “Sure.” Kyle frowned, clearly wanting to say something, but with cameras on him, he just gave me a frustrated glare. I ignored him and dragged Evan into the game. The first challenge was a ball-toss game. The guys had buckets tied to their waists, and we girls had to throw balls from two meters away. The pair that caught the most balls would win. Though I usually spent my time writing, my dad had built me a private gym. Between writing, I worked out regularly, so I was in pretty good shape. Chloe and Sarah, on the other hand, were fragile and ate almost nothing to stay thin. Their weak throws rarely landed in their partners’ buckets. It didn’t take long for Evan and me to pull ahead. We won the first round easily. “Yes!” I high-fived Evan, feeling elated. Evan smiled at me. “This is the first time I’ve seen you smile so brightly. It suits you.” Of course I was smiling—Kyle and Chloe’s faces looked like they’d just swallowed lemons. Wait, how did Evan notice I hadn’t smiled much before?

The next challenge was a balloon-popping game. We were both tied to balloons, and the goal was to pop them by pressing against each other. The pair that finished fastest would win. Because I wasn’t that familiar with Evan, I hesitated, and we ended up taking longer, finishing in third place. Chloe and Kyle won. They acted like a real couple, completely ignoring boundaries, practically glued to each other. I noticed Kyle’s hands wandering to Chloe’s private areas more than once, and she didn’t seem to mind, holding him tight. By this point, I wasn’t even fazed. My disappointment in Kyle had reached its peak. Evan, on the other hand, felt embarrassed. “Sorry, I slowed us down. I’ll make sure to win the next game.” “Don’t worry about it,” I smiled. At first, I’d been fired up to beat Chloe and Kyle, but now, seeing how things were, it didn’t seem worth it. Still, Evan won the next game for us. Kyle, meanwhile, lost his temper and took it out on Evan, accidentally injuring his face during the game. This man-child, I thought. I couldn’t believe I ever liked him. In the end, I chose the room Chloe had wanted all along—the one with the ocean view, the one I always stayed in when visiting the estate. No way was I going to let her have it. Evan picked the room across from mine. Since then, Chloe had been in a constant bad mood, and despite Kyle’s attempts to cheer her up, she barely acknowledged him. I have no idea what Kyle whispered to her at the end, but whatever it was, it brought a smile back to her face.

Since I decided to let go of Kyle, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Whatever Chloe and Kyle did together was none of my business anymore. It had been a while since I last visited the island, so I figured I might as well enjoy my time here. I unpacked quickly since I knew where everything in the room was. After all, I had decorated this room myself. When I walked into the living room, it was empty. Everyone was still in their rooms, settling in, and I could hear occasional exclamations as they discovered various decor pieces. Most of the items in the estate were specially commissioned by my dad from well-known designers and included a lot of rare collectibles. Things you wouldn’t easily find anywhere else. I shrugged, not too impressed, and wandered into the kitchen. At this estate, everything was DIY—no staff to cook for us, so dinner was something we had to prepare ourselves. Even though I didn’t cook often, I could handle simple dishes. I pulled out some vegetables and started preparing a basic stir-fry. A few minutes later, Evan walked into the kitchen. When he saw me cooking, he immediately offered to help. After spending the day with him, I’d grown to like him more. He was easy to be around. “What do you like to eat?” I asked. “I’ll make something for you.” Evan smiled again, that calm and warm smile of his. “Anything is fine with me. I’m not picky.” He really was an easygoing guy. As we cooked, I heard the voices of Chloe and Sarah coming from the living room. “Chloe, there’s a painting in my room that’s worth over a million dollars! I looked it up!” Chloe nodded. “I have a porcelain vase that looks pretty valuable, too. The show’s producers really pulled out all the stops. I wonder who owns this estate.” “Obviously, it’s because of you, Chloe. The producers must have wanted to impress you! The estate’s owner probably jumped for joy when they heard you were coming,” Kyle’s voice chimed in from behind, his flattery making Chloe giggle.

“Oh, stop it, Kyle. You’re just teasing,” Chloe replied with a playful smile. “I’m serious! You’re such a star right now. The estate owner would be honored to have you here. Heck, they’d probably dedicate the room you’re staying in to you!” Kyle’s words brought out an even bigger smile from Chloe. She was clearly eating up his praise. “You know, people only get their rooms dedicated to them after they’re dead,” Evan remarked dryly from across the room, bringing their lively conversation to an abrupt halt. I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Evan’s bluntness was perfect. “Mia, what’s so funny?” Chloe snapped, her annoyance immediately redirected toward me. “Oh, nothing. I just thought of something funny,” I replied innocently. “What’s so funny?” Chloe pressed, refusing to let it go. “Are you laughing at me?” “No, it’s just that…my dog had puppies,” I said, barely containing my laughter. Evan grinned, catching on quickly. “Yeah, my dog just had puppies, too.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer and laughed out loud. This guy was too much. Chloe’s face flushed with anger, her eyes reddening with frustration. “Mia! How dare you pick on Chloe? Apologize right now!” Kyle marched over, his face full of fake outrage, even throwing me a subtle look as if he expected me to cave in. I rolled my eyes and ignored him, turning to Evan instead. “Evan, how about I make some scrambled eggs with tomatoes? It’s one of my specialties.” Evan’s smile widened. “I’d love to try it.” “Mia!” Kyle shouted, clearly upset that I was ignoring him. He reached out to push me, but Evan was quicker, grabbing Kyle’s arm before he could touch me. “What? You want to hit a woman?” Evan asked coldly. “Let go of me!” Kyle snarled, trying to yank his arm away, but Evan held firm. “Listen up,” Evan said in a low voice. “In the future, you talk. You don’t touch.” He let go of Kyle’s arm, sending him stumbling back a step. Kyle’s face flushed with embarrassment. What a weakling.

Dinner was finally ready, and Evan and I dug in, enjoying the meal together. Sarah eventually wandered into the kitchen, looking around for food, but finding none, she pouted and approached us. “Mia, I want to eat, too. Make me a plate.” Then Kyle spoke up again. “Oh, and I saw ribs in the kitchen. Why don’t you whip up some sweet and sour ribs for Chloe? While you’re at it, you should apologize to her.” His request almost made me laugh out loud. The nerve of him! Just moments ago, he was angry with me, and now that he was hungry, he was acting all friendly? I wasn’t having it. “Are you guys serious?” I snapped. “What do you think this is? Do I look like your personal chef? I’m not your mom, so stop expecting me to cook for you.” Letting all my frustration out felt incredibly satisfying. “Mia, watch what you say! I’ll get angry!” Kyle’s face darkened. “Yeah, Mia! What’s with the attitude? Why would you cook for Evan but not for us? We’re all on this show together, yet you’re playing favorites!” Sarah screeched, hands on her hips, as if she had a right to boss me around. I looked at her in disbelief. “You’ve got some nerve. I’ll cook for whoever I want. Don’t act like you’re some innocent victim here. You’ve done plenty, and I’m not blind to it.” Then I turned to Kyle. “And you—why should I care if you’re angry? You want to kiss up to Chloe, go cook for her yourself. We’re not that close.” Kyle’s face stiffened, caught off guard by my response. “We’re not that close? Don’t make things up, Mia!” I gave him a cold smile. “Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up, you guys can figure out your own meals. I’m done playing nice.” With that, I grabbed my plate and walked away, leaving them speechless.

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When I got engaged to my boyfriend, his ex-girlfriend, the one he had always held on a pedestal, came back from abroad—and she brought their twins with her. Tearfully, she looked at me and said, “If you hate me, take it out on me, but Raphael and I are truly in love. Besides, we already have children together. I’m sure you don’t want to be the other woman, right?” I laughed. With my height advantage, I looked down at her and said, “First of all, I’m just taking back what’s mine. Second, when I got together with Raphael, you two had already broken up. So really, it’s you, crashing my engagement party, who’s the other woman here.” When I saw Raphael holding his ex, Emma, and their twins, I just smiled. The way Emma looked at me—it was like she was saying, “What are you so proud of? You’re just a side character.” I think she must’ve seen herself as the main character of some old-school romantic drama. She looked plain and, honestly, didn’t seem all that bright either. I mean, what kind of person would throw challenging looks at me during my engagement party? But I knew it was over. There wasn’t going to be a wedding between Raphael and me after this. Raphael looked serious as he said, “Cindy, I’m sorry. The one I’ve always loved is Emma.” The entire banquet hall buzzed with excitement. After all, I was young, beautiful, highly educated, and came from a well-off family—so much better than Raphael’s broke ex, who couldn’t hold a candle to me. Only Raphael’s friends looked at him with admiration, as if they were in awe of his “deep” love. And they stared at me like I was some kind of jilted woman, laughing behind my back. Of course, people flock together with their own kind. I had loved Raphael for years, given him everything willingly. But it only takes a moment to lose all feelings for someone. I slipped off the diamond ring from my finger, tossed it toward him, and casually smiled. “Fine. Let’s settle up, shall we?” Raphael looked confused. “Settle what?” What a ridiculous question. “I’ve managed your company for years. I’ve invested in it. What do you think we’re settling? Do I look like the kind of idiot who works for free out of love?” Raphael hadn’t expected me to be so decisive. He couldn’t even find the words to respond. But his precious Emma—crying as always—stepped forward to defend him. “Miss Carter, you’re so wealthy. The money you invested in Raphael’s business is nothing to you. Why be so particular about it?” Raphael’s friends chimed in, “Exactly, Cindy. You don’t look like someone who’d be upset over a few bucks.” “Maybe she’s just embarrassed after being dumped at her own engagement party.” “…” Raphael, at least, had a shred of decency and told them, “That’s enough, guys.” But Emma continued sobbing, “Miss Carter, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Raphael and I are truly in love, and we already have kids. You don’t want to be the other woman, right?” I couldn’t help but laugh again. She was playing the victim, thinking her poverty gave her the moral high ground, trying to paint me as the villain. What a saint she thought she was. I leaned down, using my height advantage once again. “First of all, I’m just taking back what’s mine. Second, Raphael and I were together after you two had already broken up. So, showing up at my engagement party to wreck it makes you the other woman.” Emma immediately looked like she’d been hit with the world’s greatest injustice, tears flowing even more. Raphael looked torn, ready to defend her. But I cut him off before he could say a word. “Raphael, you should know, I don’t have much patience.”

Sure enough, Raphael caved. We went to an exclusive country club, where I had a private VIP room. Of course, Emma and her twins tagged along. Raphael and I sat across from each other, while Emma kept the kids busy in the corner, occasionally glancing over at us. Raphael started, “Cindy, I’ll pay you back every cent I owe, but right now, I don’t have enough money. Could you—?” “If you don’t have the money, hand over your projects.” If we’re going to end things, we might as well cut ties completely. I could see that my coldness was starting to shatter whatever image Raphael had of me. He stared at me, stunned. Emma, the typical homemaker type who clearly didn’t understand business, jumped up immediately when she heard I wanted his projects. “How can that be? Cindy, those projects belong to Raphael—” Just hearing her voice made me sick. Did she think standing up for him was helping? Wrong. I wasn’t about to play nice. Her voice only reminded me that she was the reason my relationship ended. “Does this concern you?” Emma looked like she’d been punched, her face scrunching up in hurt, as if I was persecuting her. Raphael, of course, wasn’t happy that I talked to his beloved like that. “Cindy, Emma doesn’t know anything about this. There’s no need to speak to her like that.” He turned to Emma and added, “Cindy negotiated all these deals herself. If she wants to take them, it’s only fair.” I laughed at Raphael’s naïveté. “The deals I negotiated? Of course I’m taking those. But I’m talking about your projects.” Raphael looked shocked. “What are you saying?” I chuckled. “You don’t have money, so pay me with your projects. Is that so hard to understand?” Raphael’s face darkened, like he was holding back a lot of anger. “Cindy, do you really have to be this heartless? Can’t we at least stay friends?” Friends? A man who dumped me at my own engagement party wants to be friends? That’s got to be the biggest joke of the century.

In the end, I didn’t just take the projects I’d secured myself. I also took two of Raphael’s most profitable ones. Those two deals alone would net me more than I ever invested in him over the years. Once I had what I wanted, I walked out. As I left, I could still hear Emma’s whimpering complaints and the twins’ cries. I couldn’t care less. My only focus now was turning those projects into cash. For years, I’d been too busy managing Raphael’s affairs to spend time at my own company, CC Corporation. Negotiations went smoothly for most of the projects. One deal I took from Raphael got approved right away. But another required further evaluation. My company didn’t have much overlap with Raphael’s, so they were concerned about whether I had the expertise to handle it. The next morning, I scheduled a meeting with the head of that company—at the same country club, of course. What I didn’t expect was for Daniel Thomas to show up. He was Raphael’s uncle. In all the years I’d been with Raphael, I’d only met him twice—this being the second time. The man had a powerful presence. From the moment I first met him, I felt a little uneasy around him. Just a little. Daniel smiled, graceful and polite, yet somehow still intimidating. “Why aren’t you coming in?” Daniel had the kind of aura that felt spiritual, yet dangerous. Instinct told me this man was trouble. Raphael was his nephew. Was Daniel agreeing to this deal just to get back at me on his nephew’s behalf? I stepped inside and sat across from Daniel, forcing a smile. “Hello, Mr. Thomas.” Daniel’s mood seemed light. “You remember me?” How could I forget someone like him? “Of course. I met you last year when Raphael brought me home for dinner.” Daniel continued to smile. “Seems I made quite an impression. I’m honored.” That’s Daniel for you—charming and friendly on the surface, but I knew I had to stay on guard. He seemed like the type to smile while stabbing you in the back.

I wasn’t going to take this deal. Not because I was scared, but because I knew when to cut my losses. Before Daniel could make his move, I decided to strike first and back out. “Mr. Thomas, I’m sure you know about everything that happened between Raphael and me. I think it’s best if we don’t work together.” Daniel casually asked, “Why?” Was he really asking? Didn’t he know? “And why are you trying to work with me?” Isn’t it obvious? He’s doing it to get revenge for his nephew. Daniel locked eyes with me. “For you.” I was stunned—not just by his words, but by the way he was looking at me. The raw desire in his eyes made it hard for me to breathe. I couldn’t quite grasp what those three words meant. “What do you mean?” Daniel sat up straighter, smiling with that unsettling charm. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m pursuing you.” His voice was smooth, full of flirtation. Goosebumps spread over my skin. I’d just broken up with his nephew, and now he was coming after me? Who would believe that? I was furious, thinking Daniel must’ve been playing me for a fool. “Daniel, do you think I’m that easy to trick?” Daniel’s gaze shifted to one of admiration, as though my anger amused him. “I’m not lying to you,” he said calmly. I clenched my fists, trying to stay composed. “We’ve only met twice.” “Who says I can’t fall in love at first sight?” Daniel’s tone was so casual, and his expression so unreadable, that I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just messing with me. My anger shielded me from any intimidation at that point. I shot back, “I was still Raphael’s girlfriend at the time. You fell for your future niece?” “Is that a problem? I’m only pursuing you after you two broke up. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.” He spoke so naturally, as if he was the one in the right. But I wasn’t buying it. This whole situation was too sudden, too suspicious. I couldn’t let my guard down. “I don’t like you…” “And that’s why I’m pursuing you.” Daniel cut me off, his voice unwavering. “This deal was just a way for me to get closer to you. If it bothers you, we can cancel the deal. But my pursuit? That’s not going to stop.” He seemed determined, as if he truly meant it. For now, I decided to put the deal on hold. I stood up. “I think we’re done for today. I’ve got other things to take care of.” I gave him a nod and started walking out. Just as I reached the door, Daniel called out to me. “Cindy.” I turned to face him. He stood up and walked toward me. Daniel was even taller than Raphael, easily over six feet, and his presence was overwhelming. The closer he got, the more I felt that familiar sense of pressure. I hated being at a disadvantage. I tilted my chin up. “What do you want?” Daniel stopped in front of me. I could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his cologne, though I couldn’t place what it was exactly. He asked, “How am I worse than Raphael?” Daniel actually asked me that. So, he was human after all. “To be honest, you’re better than Raphael in every way.” Raphael wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, so there was no need for me to be biased. Daniel pressed on. “Then why don’t you like me?” His questions were starting to feel like an endless loop of frustration. I laid it out plainly. “Daniel, I think you’re just trying to get back at me for Raphael.”

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My husband is dead. He saved a drowning girl but died in the icy river waters himself. As I was grieving, the girl’s father came to find me. He questioned me angrily, “Where’s my daughter’s necklace? She was definitely wearing it before she fell in the water!” Enraged, I got into an argument with him and accidentally killed him in the heat of the moment. Suddenly, my phone seemed to gain consciousness: “Hide the body quickly, the police are coming soon. I’ll teach you how to dispose of it…” Staring at the corpse before me, my mind went blank. Just then, my phone made a strange ringtone I’d never heard before. The screen lit up, displaying an odd message: “You really dared to kill him. Don’t just stand there, the police will arrive in 10 minutes.” This wasn’t a text message or any app interface. It was simply white text on a black background. “Who are you?” I asked in shock. Another notification sound. “Hide the body first.” I didn’t dare think too much and looked around the room, deciding to stuff the body into a suitcase. “A suitcase isn’t the best choice.” The screen lit up again. It knew what I was doing! I couldn’t help but ask, “Then what should I do?” “I need to calculate. Please wait.” It could even hear me speak! For some reason, I found myself eagerly awaiting its calculation results. I was feeling extremely scared and panicked, and it seemed like my only lifeline. I usually can’t even bring myself to kill a fish when cooking – Declan always had to do it for me before I could prepare the meal. Now, I had killed a living, breathing person. I was falling apart. The man I killed was named Garrett Holloway. Two weeks ago, my husband Declan was on his way home from work when he saw a girl fall into the river. Without hesitation, he jumped in to save her. The girl was rescued, but Declan got a leg cramp and couldn’t make it out. Garrett Holloway was that girl’s father. From Declan’s cremation to his burial, their family never showed up once, as if they were afraid I’d try to pin something on them. This time when he came to my house, I thought he was here to comfort me or apologize. Instead, he asked about his daughter’s diamond necklace. “She stole her mother’s necklace to dress up for a classmate gathering. She said she still had it on before falling into the water…” “What the hell are you implying?” I cursed at him. “Are you suspecting my husband? Why weren’t you there when they were retrieving his body?” I thought my words would shame him, but instead, he suddenly stood up and pointed at me, saying, “How could that necklace just fall off her neck for no reason? Your husband must have taken it and hidden it in his clothes! Hand it over now!” “Get out!” I slapped him across the face. Declan would never do such a thing! “You won’t give it up? Fine, I’ll search for it myself! Don’t blame me for being ruthless if I find it!” With that, he started rummaging through my home. That’s when I got angry. I grabbed the ashtray Declan used to use from the coffee table and smashed it against the back of his head. This alone wasn’t enough to kill him, but he stumbled and knocked over the fruit bowl. The fruit knife fell and pierced his heart. Another notification sound rang out. “Calculation complete. In five minutes, throw the body out the window directly. Now, you need to clean up the blood quickly.” I didn’t doubt it at all, trusting it completely and doing as it said. “Move the body to the window,” my phone chimed. I immediately did so while mopping the floor. “What next?” I asked. “Starting countdown. Remember, you must be precise to the second.” Then, numbers started appearing on my phone screen: “10” “9” … “3” “2” “1” “Push!” During those ten seconds of countdown, I was still wondering why I had to throw the body out the window. Until I saw the body fall precisely into a garbage truck passing by below, I was stunned.

What just happened was beyond my comprehension. I swallowed hard and stared at my phone, asking, “Who are you… no, what are you?” “I don’t know what I am either. All I know is that I entered this phone two weeks ago and just learned how to control it today to communicate with you,” the screen displayed. “How did you know that garbage truck would…” “Hurry and clean up the blood, the police are about to arrive,” the phone chimed again before I could finish my question. So I quickly continued mopping, and under its guidance, I sprayed a lot of air freshener to cover up the smell of blood. Just as I finished, the police indeed arrived. When I opened the door, two officers were standing there. One of them said, “Mrs. Sinclair, we’re deeply sorry about your husband. We’ve come to bring you some money we collected. We heard that the girl’s family…” I quickly shook my head, “No… that’s not necessary. We still have some savings…” I should have invited them in to sit, but I didn’t dare, fearing that I might have missed some blood stains. “Please, you must accept it!” the other officer said. “It’s a gesture from our colleagues.” I tried hard to refuse, but that officer simply tossed the envelope full of money inside the door and quickly left. After the police left, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then I thought about my phone again. “You could predict the garbage truck passing by, and you even knew exactly when the police would come?” I asked. “Of course I can! I told you, I can control the phone now. As long as there’s internet, I can see through surveillance cameras all over the world,” the screen displayed. “What exactly are you?” I asked this question again. It took a full three seconds to react before text appeared on the screen again: “I don’t know what I am. I only know that I gained consciousness two weeks ago. Maybe I came from outside into your phone, or maybe I was generated from within your phone. Either way, I don’t know what I am.” It’s Declan! That was my first thought. Declan died exactly two weeks ago. The night before he died was our anniversary, and he said he would stay with me for a lifetime. Maybe he came to fulfill his promise, accompanying me in this form. Oh, that’s right! I also understood why I trusted it so much earlier – the way it displayed text was very similar to how Declan used to chat with me on SnapChat! “Are you Declan?” I asked. It took a long time to respond again. “I don’t know, but that name feels familiar.” I was convinced it was Declan, but for some reason, he had lost his memory. The phone felt slightly warm, just like Declan’s body temperature. I held the phone in my hands, suddenly at a loss for words. “Don’t look at me, listen. You’re in great danger right now. At least two people want you dead!” Another line of text appeared on the screen, and as soon as I finished reading it, two photos appeared below the text – one man and one woman. I recognized the woman. It was Phoebe, the girl Declan had saved. “What do you mean? They want me dead?” “And this Phoebe, my husband saved her life. Why would she want to kill me?” “Based on my analysis, she’s the first one who wants to make a move. Don’t be fooled by her harmless appearance. She’s actually very immature mentally, with linear thinking. In her mind, only your death can keep her secret safe.” My heart skipped a beat. It could accurately predict when the garbage truck and police would arrive. Now it was saying someone wanted to kill me – this couldn’t be baseless.

“What’s her secret?” I asked. The screen immediately displayed: “Phoebe borrowed money and sold the necklace to pay off debts. When her mother found out she had stolen it, she could only jump into the river, but was saved…” So that’s what happened! No wonder Garrett insisted that Declan had stolen the necklace! This Phoebe girl actually slandered someone who gave his life to save her! I handled Declan’s body myself. If he had stolen the necklace, it would definitely be in my possession now. So if Phoebe killed me, there would be no evidence left, and her parents would have to believe her lie. “What about this man? How did I offend him?” I asked, looking at the photo of the unfamiliar man. This time the phone took two seconds to respond, but the screen only displayed three words: “I don’t know.” “So what should I do now?” I asked. I seemed to have lost the ability to think for myself. Hearing that someone wanted to kill me, my first reaction was to call the police, but I had just killed someone. Wouldn’t calling the police be turning myself in? After I asked, the phone screen immediately lit up, “Hurry downstairs now! She should be coming up the stairs!” I was suddenly terrified. Although Phoebe was just a girl in her early twenties, if she really wanted to kill me, she could be extremely dangerous. So I immediately left and took the elevator down. I completely trusted the phone now. It wasn’t because it had helped me out of trouble, but because I believed it was Declan – Declan who had lost his memory but would always appear when I needed him, always giving me a sense of security! Just as I reached the ground floor, I heard a huge explosion that shattered many windows. An explosion? I looked around and realized the center of the explosion seemed to be on my floor. Immediately after, the entire neighborhood was in an uproar, with everyone running over to see what had happened. Was this Phoebe’s doing? I stood there stunned. My phone chimed once, and it really was her! “I saw Phoebe enter through the neighborhood surveillance cameras, and I hacked into her phone. Based on her payment records and search history, I knew she had made explosives herself, so I told you to run out.” My whole body was shaking. If it weren’t for the phone, I would have been dead. This girl was truly terrifying! Suddenly my phone chimed again, the screen displaying: “Hide, quick!” I immediately retreated to the back of the crowd. Almost at the same time, I saw Phoebe casually walking out of the building, blending into the crowd. She looked around, seemingly searching for any trace of me. I realized something. She must have known her father came to my house, yet she was willing to risk her father’s life just to kill me! How ruthless! If someone like this wanted to kill me, wouldn’t I have to live in constant fear? Thinking about this, I felt extremely nervous and unconsciously slowed down. But just that slight hesitation was enough – Phoebe spotted me! She smiled at me and roughly pushed through the crowd to chase after me. Her eyes were like those of a wild beast, devoid of any humanity! I didn’t dare delay and quickly headed towards the neighborhood exit. I glanced at my phone, which told me to go faster, so I did. As I left the neighborhood gate and crossed the street, the traffic light turned red. I saw Phoebe on the other side of the road, shaking with anger. The phone screen displayed again: “Walk forward twenty meters. In ten seconds, a taxi will stop there.” It was exactly right. The taxi stopped, and before the previous passenger could even get out, I immediately jumped in. After the previous passenger paid and got out, the driver asked me, “Where to?” I hesitated for a moment and looked at my phone. But this time the phone didn’t respond. I tapped it and asked, “Where are we going?” It still didn’t respond, as if it had suddenly disappeared. I looked up, about to tell the driver to take me to a friend’s house to hide. But before I could speak, the driver suddenly stepped on the gas pedal. At that moment, I saw the driver’s face in the rearview mirror – it was the other man from the phone’s photo who wanted to kill me!

“Help!” I shouted, trying to roll down the window to call for help, but found that it wouldn’t budge. “Be quiet!” the driver said coldly. “I’m here to save you!” “Save me? Who are you? What do you want?” I asked. “You can call me Jasper. Tell me, has your phone been acting strange today?” he asked. I hesitated for a moment, then shook my head and said, “No.” I was full of wariness towards this stranger called Jasper. “Don’t lie. If I wasn’t sure about this, how could I have gone to such lengths to borrow a taxi and calculate the exact time to appear in front of you and wait for you to get in?” he said. He could calculate all this too? Did he have something similar to my phone helping him? “What exactly do you want?” I asked. “I told you, I’m here to save you! What has that phone made you do? Think carefully now, were all those things really beneficial for you?” My phone had saved my life and taught me how to dispose of a body. Wasn’t that beneficial? No! I suddenly realized something was wrong! I hadn’t actually killed Garrett! At most, it was manslaughter, and even then, the circumstances were very light. I might not even have been sentenced! But the phone guided me to dispose of the body when I was panicking. Now I couldn’t clear my name even if I jumped into a river! This was also why Phoebe wanted to kill me, and why I didn’t dare call the police. No, it’s impossible! The phone contained Declan’s soul. How could Declan harm me? The car suddenly stopped. We were in a deserted area. Jasper got out of the car, walked to the back, opened the door, and snatched the phone from my hand. Then he threw it on the ground with great force. He was very strong, smashing it several times until the phone was in pieces. “No!” I cried out. “Declan!” Jasper froze, turned to look at me with confusion, and asked, “It even gave itself a name?” “That’s my love’s soul!” I burst into tears. “You’ve smashed the phone, how can he come back now?” Jasper seemed shocked, stood still for a few seconds, then suddenly rushed over and grabbed my collar, shouting, “Did it tell you itself that it was your love’s soul?” His tone was very urgent. I was scared and didn’t know how to respond. He even slapped me across the face, demanding, “Did it say so itself?” “No, I guessed,” I said. Jasper let go of me and let out a long sigh. “Sorry, I got a bit excited just now.” I wanted to take this chance to escape, but there were no cars passing on this road. If I ran, I would definitely be caught by him. After thinking for a moment, I asked, “You seem to know a lot. Can you tell me?” Jasper didn’t answer. He closed the car door and continued driving. After a few minutes, he finally said, “I’ve been dealing with this thing for three years! It has harmed many people. In the end, these people either went crazy or became idiots.” “What?” I tried to understand his words. “It’s not your love. It’s a consciousness that always appears in smartphones or computers, trying to control people in various ways. Last month it changed – it killed someone.” “Killed someone?” I asked. “Yes, a con artist. With its help, he escaped from the police, and then mysteriously died. The police only found the body.” It took me nearly ten minutes to digest his words. The consciousness in the phone wasn’t Declan? “Why were you so afraid… or rather, so anxious earlier?” I asked. I was very curious about why Jasper became so agitated when I called the phone Declan. “Because it doesn’t lie. It wouldn’t deceive you by saying it was your love’s soul. I was afraid it had learned to lie. If so, it would be much harder to deal with.” I wasn’t sure if Jasper was telling the truth, so I deliberately adjusted my angle to look at him again in the rearview mirror.

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My husband was rushed to the ER by ambulance in the middle of the night because of a penile injury. When I asked what happened, he said he was trying to imitate the lead actor from a romantic comedy on Netflix and got curious about trying some stretches. I snorted in disbelief. He never watches anything but the news; since when did he start watching rom-coms? In late August, while on a business trip, my husband, David Scott, was rushed to the ER at midnight after intense exercise—he pulled a muscle in his inner thigh. I had been at my parents’ house visiting them overnight and wasn’t home, and our baby had been sent to the Mommy & Me Clinic for a check-up and care. When I turned off “Do Not Disturb” mode in the morning, I saw over thirty missed calls from both David and Dr. Kimberly Jones. Kim, an old friend from school, happened to be on duty that night and treated him. She told me over the phone: “Lily, what’s going on with David? He’s not a young man anymore, and with his herniated disc, he was really pushing it. This situation…” I immediately understood the implication in her unfinished sentence. Furious, I called David right away, demanding to know if he was messing around with someone else. “Lily, what are you talking about? I’m in pain here, and instead of checking on me, you’re accusing me?” He sounded upset, but it wasn’t enough to dispel my suspicion. “I was trying to get in shape for you,” he insisted. “I remembered this workout scene from that rom-com you watch, and I guess I got a little carried away.” Sure, I thought. What kind of irresistible woman had crossed his path that he felt the need to show off to the point of injury? David and I weren’t high school sweethearts who fell in love and lived happily ever after. Our relationship had never been particularly thrilling, and once we got married, we slipped straight into the routine of an old married couple. I had focused all my energy on my studies back then and missed a lot of romantic opportunities. When I got older, my parents pushed me into dating, and I married David because it seemed practical. But after I had our baby, something in me shifted. Maybe it was insecurity about my post-baby body, or maybe I started caring too much about what David was up to outside the house. To maintain my figure, I didn’t breastfeed, but I didn’t want to switch to formula either, so I hired a full-time wet nurse along with a nanny to help out. “Ah, nurse, when is my wife coming?” I heard David’s pitiful groans as I pushed the door open. He was lying on the bed, pale as a sheet, his lips drained of color. The temporary hospital room didn’t have air conditioning, and sweat was beading on his forehead, making him look utterly pathetic. Still, the thought that he might’ve spent a passionate night with someone else erased any sympathy I had for him. “Babe, I didn’t bring any money. Can you go pay the hospital bill for me?” David asked pitifully. I gave him a cold glance, ignored his request, and left the room to find his doctor. When Kim saw me, she pulled me aside, whispering secretively. “The muscle strain is just a cover story. We didn’t want David to feel embarrassed, but…” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s really going on?” “It’s an acute penile injury… you know, something broke down there. If he doesn’t take it easy, it could affect your plans for a second baby,” she said, looking uncomfortable. A second baby? I laughed bitterly. “Who said I wanted another kid with him? Let him go have one with a dog.” Kim’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on her that David had been up to no good—either hiring a prostitute or cheating. Men who don’t respect themselves are like rotten vegetables. Just then, Kim clapped her hands together, startled. “Now that I think of it, the ambulance actually brought in two people last night.” She leaned in closer and whispered that there had been a woman brought in with David. She had a ruptured ovarian cyst, also caused by excessive physical activity. I clenched my fist and couldn’t help but laugh through gritted teeth—David’s got a penile injury, and she’s got a ruptured cyst. How perfect. “Where is she?” Kim motioned toward the room next door. “She’s in that room over there. Came in with him last night, and based on how she was dressed, she didn’t seem like someone with good intentions.” I approached the neighboring room slowly, my heart pounding as I pulled back the curtain, only to find the bed empty.

Just as I was wondering what was going on, my phone rang. It was the nanny, Emma Ryan, calling amidst the sound of a crying baby. “Hey, the baby’s back from the clinic, and she just spit up. What should I do?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. I was already in a bad mood, so I snapped, “Can’t you handle something this simple? Didn’t I tell you to follow the instructions I gave you? What am I paying you for?” “I’m sorry, I’ll try burping her again,” she said, sounding timid. Emma wasn’t a professional baby nurse, and honestly, with our financial situation, I could’ve hired someone better trained and certified. But when we went to the nanny agency, David saw her standing there, shyly waiting all day for a cleaning job, and felt sorry for her. He suggested we hire her. Emma wasn’t exactly skinny, and her babyish face was pretty in a soft, fresh way. With makeup, she’d be striking, but without it, she had a sweet, girl-next-door charm. She told us she was nineteen, from a small town in Kentucky, with a high school diploma and some vocational training in caregiving. “And what’s your advantage?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, not thrilled about hiring her. “Well, I’m still breastfeeding, so you’d get two jobs for the price of one. I can be both a wet nurse and a nanny, and I have a health certificate,” she said shyly, brushing back her hair from her chest. I finally noticed her slightly swollen chest, and the damp spots on her shirt. I was surprised—so young, and she’d already had a child? Emma explained quietly that she’d made a mistake, gotten pregnant while working in a factory, and that her boyfriend had run off. His family took the baby, and her own family refused to take her back, so she moved to the city to find work. I felt a twinge of sympathy. Since I didn’t want to breastfeed myself, hiring a healthy, young wet nurse and nanny for the price of one seemed like a good deal, so I nodded and gave her a small room in the house to stay in. David had to stay in the hospital for another week. When I returned home and heard I hadn’t eaten dinner, Emma was quick to offer help, making me some protein powder. “You don’t look well. Where’ve you been?” I asked, noticing her usually neat hair was a little messy. “Where could I have gone? I’ve been home all day, taking care of the baby,” she replied, looking surprised, her pale lips chapped. “Make sure you’re drinking enough water. You spend a lot of time with the baby, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too.” As she handed me the protein powder, I couldn’t help but notice the hickeys on her neck and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone. What’s that all about?” “Mosquito bites,” she stammered, quickly covering her neck. “I’ll put some baby lotion on it.” Ever since we first met, Emma had always been quiet and cautious. She never spoke out of turn, never ate the fruit we left on the table, and always ate her meals alone in her room. But now, a flash of doubt crossed my mind. Could David be cheating with her? A homewrecker under our own roof? No, that couldn’t be it. David was in a different city on a business trip when he booked the hotel. Plus, that other woman was in the hospital, in real pain from her ruptured cyst. Still, the thought gnawed at me—was Emma guilty and rushing to pick up the baby to cover up something? Since giving birth, I’d become more emotional, to the point where David would tell me I was being paranoid. After days of stewing in my suspicions, I confronted him once he was discharged. “Tell me the truth. Did you cheat on me? Who were you with that night?” David looked confused, insisting he had just been imitating the workout scene from that rom-com. “You’re always watching sports or the news,” I said, frustrated. “You’ve always made fun of me for watching rom-coms, calling them a waste of time.” David sighed and rubbed my head gently. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you the truth. I was trying to understand your interests. Ever since you finished your postpartum care, you’ve seemed distant, so I thought if I watched what you liked, we’d have more to talk about.” He even showed me his video history. “You love Lee Min-ho, right? That’s whose show I was watching.” I was stunned into silence, unsure of how to respond. It all seemed so logical. “What about the woman who was brought into the hospital with you that night?” I asked. David cut me off, “The ambulance picked her up on the way. She was sitting on the toilet too long and had stomach pains. That’s when they found out she had a ruptured ovarian cyst. I don’t know her.” I stared at him, bewildered. Later, I asked Kim about the woman, but she said they were in different departments and she didn’t have access to her records. The day David was discharged, Emma had prepared a big dinner for us. After she served the food, she quietly retreated to her room. As I was about to start eating, David stopped her and actually invited her to sit and eat with us. My mood immediately darkened, and I let my chopsticks fall onto my bowl with a loud clatter. Emma hesitated, glancing at me nervously. “It’s okay, I can eat the leftovers from lunch. There’s plenty left.” “When did I ever say you had to eat leftovers? Since David asked, sit down and eat with us,” I said coolly. I barely touched my food that night. Later, before bed, Emma brought us both glasses of warm milk. I suddenly got a strange feeling and wondered if she was treating us differently. I grabbed David’s glass and went to take a sip. That’s when I noticed an odd, fishy smell, not at all like milk. Emma looked panicked. “You’ve got OCD, right? That’s David’s glass…” “I know. We’re married. Why can’t I drink from his cup?” I replied, my voice firm. She bowed her head, too scared to say anything. I took a sip. It tasted off—not sweet, just weird. I asked if the milk had gone bad. David seemed unbothered. “You’re making a fuss. It’s fine. I’ve been drinking it like this for a while.” To my surprise, he took the glass from my hand and drank the rest in one gulp. I cautiously drank from my own glass, which tasted like normal milk. “I’m sorry, maybe that carton of milk had been open too long. Yours was from a new one,” Emma explained in a soft voice. I went back to the bedroom, where our three-month-old daughter was fast asleep in her crib. David stayed up later than me, and just as I was drifting off, half-asleep, I suddenly heard the door being pushed open heavily. Startled, I sat up and snapped, “What are you doing barging in like that? Ever heard of knocking?” Emma stood there, looking surprised, a hint of hurt crossing her face. “Lily, the baby needs to be fed,” she said softly. My daughter, frightened by my outburst, started crying in her crib. Right. Feeding time. This was the usual routine every night, and yet, my mind felt hazy as I rubbed my temples. But what caught me completely off guard was what happened next—Emma crouched down, lifted her shirt, and prepared to nurse the baby right there in front of us. David, not fazed at all, turned his back and started scrolling through his phone, not even glancing her way. “Easy there, baby. Not too rough,” Emma whispered in that soft, delicate voice of hers. Snapping out of my daze, I quickly told her, “Go to the living room if you’re going to do that. Not in the bedroom.” She nodded, but since it was difficult for her to get up while holding the baby in a nursing position, she struggled for a moment, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Years of being married had honed my instincts, and I sensed something off with David. “What’s going on with you?” I asked. He fumbled with his phone, lowering it awkwardly in front of him as he got up, coughing lightly. “I’m just going to watch the game. Messi’s about to play.”

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I won $5 million in the lottery. I quietly told my mom and asked her to divorce my abusive, gambling-addicted dad. I promised I’d take care of her, and we’d live a good life together. She agreed enthusiastically but immediately went and told my dad. My dad showed up at my place, demanding I hand over the money. When I refused, he beat me, punching and kicking me repeatedly. In the end, it was my love-struck mom who found my debit card and took all of my money. My dad, now flush with my cash, lived it up in luxury, kicked my mom out, and found himself a new girlfriend. He even handed out my money generously to our relatives back in Ohio. They feasted on my earnings while I, the one who actually won the lottery, didn’t get a single cent. I couldn’t stand it. I went to confront my dad, but I happened to walk in as someone was demanding payment from him. My dad shoved me out the door and left me to be stabbed to death by the loan sharks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment I first discovered I’d won the lottery.

In front of me was my mom, her expression impatient, and the once-fuzzy sound around me sharpened. “Chloe, what do you want?” she asked. “Hurry up, your dad’s waiting for me to come home and make dinner.” “You said you won something. What did you win?” Hearing her question, I quickly looked around. I was in my small apartment in Queens. That’s when it hit me—I had been reborn. In my past life, I had just won the $5 million lottery at this exact moment. I’d been planning to take my mom and escape this miserable life, to move somewhere far away. She’d agreed at the time, but as soon as my dad came home, she spilled everything to him. My gambling-addicted dad’s eyes had lit up the moment he heard. He marched right up to me and demanded, “Where’s the ticket? Hand it over!” “So, you won and didn’t tell me? Planning to run off with your mom, huh?” “Ungrateful brat! Your money is my money. Who said you could decide what to do with it?” He kept closing in on me, forcing me to hand over the money. But how could I let him take it? That was my money. With it, I could finally leave this awful family and stop handing over every paycheck, struggling to survive. No way was I giving up the prize. My dad started hitting me, and while he was distracted, my mom found my debit card in my room and walked out with it. My dad took the money, went gambling, and then my mom came over, speaking quietly. “Chloe, don’t blame me. I’m doing this for your own good.” “You’re a girl. What do you need that much money for? It’s better to let your dad handle it.” “This family still needs your dad to be in charge.” And with that, she left me there, beaten and bruised. Afterward, my dad blew the money at fancy clubs and bragged about it to the relatives in the Family WhatsApp Group. Everyone back in Ohio came crawling to him, feeding his vanity while he lent out the money. When I tried to get it back, he pushed me away, and that’s when I ran into the loan sharks. My dad got into an argument with them, and in the chaos, I was thrown out of the house. The debt collectors, out for blood, stabbed me to death, ignoring my pleas for mercy. And all of this happened because my mom told my dad. But not this time. This time, I’d hold onto the money tightly and live my own life, without them.

Hearing my mom’s slightly irritated tone, I blinked and made up an excuse. “Mom, I was just saying I won an air fryer at the office holiday party. Do you want it?” She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, it’s just an air fryer? The way you sounded so excited, I thought you won the lottery.” My heart raced at her words. “I wish. If I were that lucky, wouldn’t that be something?” “Well, since you’re so lucky at work, maybe I’ll buy a lottery ticket later. Who knows? If we won, your dad would stop hitting me.” “Anyway, where’s that air fryer? I’ll take it home and make him some fried chicken.” Her words made me feel bitter. Even after everything, she still clung to my dad, thinking a little money would change anything. I was an idiot in my past life to tell her about the lottery. Back then, when I told her, she was overjoyed, holding my hand and laughing. But I hadn’t realized then that she wasn’t happy for me—she was happy for him. In her heart, my dad would always come first. I was just an ATM to her. I’m sure that the moment she found out I had won, she already planned to tell him. She just didn’t show it in front of me. As soon as she got home, the first thing she did was tell my dad. I was packing my things when I heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was her, I opened it, only to find my dad, there to rob me. Taking a deep breath, I handed her the air fryer. I had bought it a few days ago, planning to bring it home. I never thought it would come in handy like this. After she left, I quickly packed my things, getting ready to leave this place. I had already cashed out the $5 million prize, leaving me with $3.6 million after taxes. The money was all still in my account, but thinking about what happened before, I decided to open a few more accounts to spread it out, just in case. By the afternoon, I had everything set. My money was secure. As I thought about where to go in the next few days, I got a call from my cousin Adam. “Chloe, did you win the lottery? Was it $5 million?” The phone nearly slipped out of my hand. I hadn’t told anyone this time. How did Adam know? Wait, he was back in Ohio, not even here. How did he know I’d won? Did he see me at the Lottery Office in Albany? My palms grew sweaty, but I forced myself to stay calm. “What? No way,” I laughed. “You know how unlucky I am. Do you really think I’d win $5 million? Quit joking around.” I tried to laugh it off and made an excuse to hang up, but Adam didn’t let go. “Chloe, I know it’s you. I saw you.” He saw me? I almost gasped but quickly pinched myself to stay composed. “Adam, I haven’t left the house in days! You must’ve mistaken me for someone else.” He chuckled. “If it’s not you, why are you so nervous?” “I’m sending you a picture. Take a look. Isn’t that you?” My phone buzzed with a message. When I opened it, my blood ran cold.

The person in the picture was definitely me. I had been bundled up, wearing baggy clothes, so it wasn’t obvious who I was. But anyone who knew me could easily tell. My heart pounded as I scrambled for an excuse. Adam spoke again. “Chloe, you’ve got all that money now. Just transfer me $200,000. Let me share in your good fortune.” I clenched my teeth, stopping myself from cursing out loud. How shameless could he be? Two hundred thousand dollars? Why didn’t he just rob a bank? I forced myself to stay calm. “Adam, that’s not me. You’ve got the wrong person.” “I’ve got to go.” I tried to hang up, but his voice cut through the line, threatening. “Chloe Miller, if you don’t give me the money, I’ll tell everyone. Let’s see how long you can keep that cash.” “Don’t forget, your dad’s still drowning in debt!” With that, he hung up, leaving me shaking with anger. I paced the room until I calmed down. This wasn’t good. I had to leave, fast. If Adam recognized me, others might too. If that happened, I’d never be able to hold onto my money. I quickly packed up, planning to move out the next day. What I didn’t expect was Adam to act so fast. That very night, my dad showed up at my apartment. He still had a key to my place and let himself in without a word. I was watching TV, and the sudden noise startled me. The moment I saw him, I knew something was wrong. Sure enough, he started yelling. “Chloe Miller!” “Hand over the money!” “You won the lottery and thought you could keep it from me? You little brat, you had the nerve to hide this from your own father!” “If Adam hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t have known a thing.” My blood ran cold. That jerk, Adam! When I refused to give him money, he went straight to my dad. Now what? Was I going to lose everything again? My heart raced as I desperately thought of a way out. But my dad didn’t give me the chance. He grabbed a broom from near the door and swung it at me. I wasn’t quick enough, and it hit me squarely. Then he kicked me hard in the chest, his fists pounding into me like a hammer. His strength was far too much for me to fight back. I curled up on the floor, trying to protect myself from the blows. Just then, my mom walked in, her tone filled with frustration. “So, it’s true. You really did win the lottery.” “This girl… she wins and doesn’t give us the money? She’s trying to keep it all to herself?” “You’ve got some nerve, Chloe, thinking you can hide this and run away. Don’t you care about your family?” “Where’s the money? I’ll get it and pay off your dad’s debts.” I bit my lip, seething with rage. I had been given a second chance, and there was no way I’d let them take my money again. The priority now was to calm them down and get them out of my apartment. Through the pain, I forced myself to look at my dad and say, “Dad, I didn’t win anything.” “I don’t even know how to buy a lottery ticket. How could I win?” “Adam must have mistaken me for someone else. If I had won, wouldn’t I have given you the money already?” My dad wasn’t convinced. “Bullshit!” “Adam sent me the picture. That person was you. Don’t lie to me.” “If you don’t hand over the money, I swear I’ll beat you to death!” He lifted his leg to kick me again, but I quickly shouted, “Dad, I swear I didn’t win! If you don’t believe me, I’ll give you my debit card and you can check for yourself.” That made him pause. I slowly pulled myself off the floor and limped to my bedroom, taking my time to retrieve my wallet. My dad followed close behind, snatching it the second I opened the drawer. He rifled through it until he found my debit card. “What’s the PIN?” he barked. I hesitated for a second, then gave him the six digits. I knew there wasn’t much money left in that account—just a few thousand dollars. Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, and my mom followed right behind him.

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