The day I was released from the mental hospital, my family watched me with nervous care. “Are you still looking for Lucas?” I widened my eyes in confusion. “Lucas? Who’s that?” Their relief was instant. They threw a welcome home party. They set up blind dates. The tension shattered into forced cheer. Everyone told me Lucas didn’t exist, that I’d fallen in love with someone purely imaginary. I played my part perfectly. Humoring them was the price of my freedom, the key that unlocked the hospital doors. But I knew. Lucas was real. I would find him, then escape. “How’s Summer’s mental state now?” “She’s good, very stable. But doctor, we’re worried she might be faking it, that she hasn’t forgotten that imaginary person. Is there any chance of that?” Over the phone, the doctor’s tone was firm: “Absolutely impossible. I used the most brutal psychological torment. I forced her to forget everything except her family. A fake, imaginary person couldn’t possibly leave any trace.” “But remember, you must not let her encounter any related people or things, or it could awaken some of her memories.” “Understood, thank you, doctor. The payment we agreed on will be transferred to your offshore account tonight.” With that, my brother, Michael, hung up. From behind the door, I heard Michael let out a sigh of relief. “Finally, it’s done.” His footsteps approached the door. I quickly backed away, fumbling my way back to my bedroom in the dark, trying to process everything I’d just heard. It was clear: my family had bribed the doctor and wiped out most of my past. My memory was a blank slate, save for information about my family and a vague recollection of assaulting someone on the street two years ago, being diagnosed with a mental illness, and locked away in a psychiatric hospital. Everyone was lying to me! Only I wouldn’t lie to myself. I had no memory of my treatment in the mental hospital, but on the wall hidden by the desk in my room, I found three lines of small, carved words. “It’s a setup! Summer, your family bribed the doctor, they’re torturing you.” “I’m barely holding on, many memories are fading, but remember this: Lucas is real. Go to New York and find him, that’s your only way to freedom.” “An iPhone, red high heels – these are gifts from Lucas, proof that he exists.” Less than a hundred words, stained with what looked like dried blood. Through the frantic handwriting, I could feel the panic and despair I’d experienced when I’d scratched those messages into the wall. Knock, knock, knock! A sudden knock startled me. Only then did I realize I’d forgotten to turn off my lamp. I quickly went to open the door. “Summer, why are you still awake so late?” It was Michael. His eyes held a look of concern and affection, which made me feel instinctively conflicted, sending a shiver down my spine. I didn’t know their motive for torturing and deceiving me. But Michael was the CEO of a successful corporation, and Mom and Dad, though retired, had extensive connections. I, on the other hand, didn’t even know my own identity. I couldn’t fight them. The only thing I could do was bide my time, cooperate, lower their guard, and look for an opportunity to find Lucas. I forced a faint smile. “Tomorrow’s Mom’s birthday. I was just thinking about what to get her.” “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Michael said, ruffling my hair. “Don’t you know what Mom and Dad really want? They just want you to get married soon. The guy they’ve set you up with for tomorrow’s date is young and accomplished. Just try to be enthusiastic, okay? Don’t resist so much.” The man was named Julian Sterling, the future heir of the Sterling Group. He was cultured, gentle, thoughtful, humorous, and had no bad habits. After a while, I almost fell for him. In front of Mom and Dad, I often brought up Julian, feigning interest. They were overjoyed, saying it was time to pick a good day for both families to meet. No one mentioned Lucas anymore, as if he had truly been forgotten, as if he never existed. Michael also stopped having people constantly watching me like before. At least, when I went out on dates with Julian, there were fewer pairs of eyes following me. On Thanksgiving Eve, both families met for the first time. The atmosphere was warm and harmonious. The wedding was set for a lucky day three months later, sealed with a kiss between Julian and me. My eyes sparkled with feigned happiness as I drank myself into a stupor. Michael helped me back to my bedroom. Thinking I was passed out drunk, they celebrated loudly in the living room: “Phew, finally done. He’s completely won Summer over.” “Just three more months, and once the wedding happens, this whole thing will be over!” So. They wanted to use me as a tool for a strategic marriage, which was why they’d used such cruel methods to erase my memory? I reached under my bed, pulled out a storage box, and looked at the iPhone and red high heels inside. My eyes narrowed, my gaze hardening. “Lucas.” “I will find you!”

I couldn’t reveal my true thoughts to anyone, not even Julian. But I loved dating Julian. When I was with him, I could escape Michael’s surveillance. And Julian often had to leave me for a while to attend to company matters. These were my moments of absolute freedom. I wasn’t sure what awaited me after marrying Julian, so I had to execute my escape plan and head to New York before the wedding. I pawned off Julian’s gifts for quick cash. Once I’d saved enough, I planned to buy an untraceable used car and disappear without a trace. A month later, my chance came! While Julian was with me trying on wedding dresses, he took a call, his face instantly changing. “Another problem? Things always go wrong when I’m not there. I’m losing more than I’m making from the Vance family! Wait for me, I’m coming now…” He rushed out and got into his car. Usually, when there was a company emergency, he’d be gone for at least an hour or two. I wasted no time, quickly changed, hailed a cab, and headed to the used car lot I’d scouted beforehand. I paid a fortune for a beat-up clunker that was almost ready for the junkyard. I had no choice. My time was limited, and I couldn’t leave any information that my family could trace. As soon as I got the keys, I threw my phone away and drove towards New York. I had no idea how I’d find Lucas. Once I reached New York, to make a living, I leveraged my looks and got a job as a massage parlor attendant in a run-down part of the city. No ID required, which was perfect. It was strange. I seemed to adapt quickly to this job. I’d serve customers at night, trying to subtly gather any information about Lucas, and sleep in the staff dorm during the day. I dumped the car too, confident that my family wouldn’t find any trace of me. Two weeks later, I got a strange customer. He introduced himself as Julian’s driver, on vacation back home for a wedding, and just wanted a foot rub. But I’d met all of Julian’s drivers, and I had no recollection of this man. I decided to probe. “I heard Mr. Sterling’s fiancée went missing. Are you guys looking for her?” The driver blinked, confused. “What are you talking about? Mr. Sterling’s fiancée is Ms. Davis, from the Davis family. She was just photographed drinking at a nightclub last night. She’s not missing.” He pulled out a photo, claiming it was Julian and Ms. Davis at their engagement party. The room was packed with guests. Michael and Mom and Dad were there too. But the Julian in the photo wasn’t the Julian I knew at all! My scalp prickled. A cold dread seeped into my back. If Julian was also a lie, then my family’s initial plan-to separate Lucas and me through cruel means for a strategic marriage-made no sense. What was the truth then? What did they really want to do to me? In a daze, the door to the private room was kicked open. Michael’s figure abruptly appeared. His face was dark as he charged towards me, grabbing my collar and yanking me up. “You’re really hiding in a massage parlor! Summer, you’re the Vance family heiress! Do you really enjoy this kind of disgusting job?” I didn’t even have time to think. My muddled brain hadn’t even started working before Michael roughly dragged me out and into a car. Mom and Dad were waiting inside. All their past concern and affection for me were now replaced by deep disappointment. “Summer, what do we have to do for you to believe that Lucas doesn’t exist, that he’s fake?” I shook my head frantically, unable to speak. I just kept telling myself in my heart: they’re liars. I can’t believe a single word they say. Soon, Michael’s patience ran out. He grabbed a handful of my hair. “Summer, you’ve only ever had one boyfriend.” “You want to see him, don’t you?” “Fine, I’ll take you to him right now!”

The car sped through the city and stopped at a dilapidated old apartment complex in New York. Michael led me to a door and knocked. A disheveled, one-legged drunkard opened it. Seeing us, he trembled with fear, shrinking back. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Summer!” “I was wrong! I shouldn’t have treated you like that!” “You’ve already punished me! Please, let me go, stop torturing me, okay?” I, too, recoiled, shaking my head frantically. “I don’t know him! He’s not Lucas! He’s definitely not Lucas!” Michael scoffed, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face. “Then tell me, who is Lucas? What does he look like?” I didn’t know. I couldn’t say. But I knew this depraved drunkard was not the man I had longed for, the man I dreamed of even in my despair within the mental hospital. “Enough, Summer! Can’t you just be clear-headed for once?!” “Lucas isn’t real! Those words you carved in the hospital wall? They were lies you planted yourself, back when you were still sick!” “HE is your only reality. The one who broke you. Your mind just couldn’t handle it, so it invented a perfect savior to escape to!” “Do you know why we found you in that massage parlor?” “Because he forced you to work in a place like that for six months…” The rest of his words faded. A sudden, tearing pain erupted in my brain. A memory was violently forced back into my mind, agonizing me. Then, the memory gradually became fluid, clear. I remembered everything. This pathetic drunkard was Caleb, a con artist. He had faked his identity, manipulated me, exploited my feelings, and then lured me to New York. He drained all my money, forcing me to work in a massage parlor to support him. The parlor owner was his relative. I was held captive for six months before Michael tracked me down and rescued me, punishing Caleb severely with his own methods. No wonder Michael found me. When the carvings in the mental hospital were discovered, he had focused his search on New York. Based on my past experience, he’d searched massage parlor after massage parlor. If this memory was real. Then was Lucas real or fake? I suddenly wavered. I recalled the soul-crushing pain and breakdown after being deceived by Caleb. Such intense suffering could indeed have triggered my mental illness. But my family were also liars! They bribed doctors and subjected me to brutal torment to make me forget everything. Even Julian was a fake. My entire life was a massive lie! “Summer, are you remembering some things?” Seeing my breakdown and fear, Michael clasped my hand, his gaze becoming earnest. “Now can you believe I wasn’t lying to you? We’re family. I don’t understand why you refuse to trust us.” “Come back home with us, and explain things properly to Julian. He still has feelings for you, and with our help, your wedding can still go ahead-” My emotions, at that moment, could no longer be contained. I erupted, yelling, “Enough!” “I don’t know if Lucas is fake, but Julian is fake!” “The man I saw wasn’t the real Julian at all! You’re all liars, you’re trying to deceive me too!” “Michael, please, just tell me the truth! What do you actually want from me?”

Back in the car, Mom, Dad, and Michael showed me many photos and screenshots of chat logs. A flood of information that painted a general picture of the years after I met Caleb. After graduating college, I ignored my family’s objections and went to New York with Caleb, then went completely off the radar. The three of them went frantic, searching everywhere for me. But when they finally found me and rescued me, I was already insane, unable to care for myself. I had forgotten Caleb, fantasizing about a nearly perfect man named Lucas, frantically searching for him, even becoming violent enough to injure someone. “Summer, Dad admits, we bribed the doctor and put you through some pretty harsh treatments to cure you.” “But what else could we do?! Regular medication couldn’t cure you. Only by completely erasing your memories could we help you escape the shadows of your past.” “After you were discharged, to prevent a relapse, we thought about finding you a perfect man, someone as close to the ‘Lucas’ in your imagination as possible. But where in the world does such a man exist? Julian was the best we could find.” “We pleaded with him. He was already engaged, so, desperate, we found someone to impersonate Julian…” Their eyes reddened as they spilled all the truth. Including some information I didn’t know. For example, the person playing Julian was Trevor Vance. Although not the heir of the Sterling family, he was an independent entrepreneur, a young and successful CEO worth millions. He had known the truth all along, helping my family deceive me in exchange for our Vance family’s resources and assistance. Michael swore to me that as long as the Vance family stood, Trevor would always treat me well. He would become the Lucas of my imagination. “Summer, because of you, we haven’t had a single peaceful night’s sleep in years.” “Do we have to tear our hearts out for you to see that we truly mean well?” Their tears seemed genuine. The memory of Caleb in my mind wasn’t fake either. And everything they had done now had a logical explanation that tied together. How could I not believe them? I sobbed uncontrollably, embracing them. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have made you sad. But I lost my memories, and then those lines in the mental hospital… I was so scared, so scared, I couldn’t stop overthinking everything.” “Can you give me a little more time, please? I promise I’ll get through this…” After that, Mom, Dad, and Michael became even kinder to me. And they watched me even more closely. When I went out on dates with Trevor, the Vance family bodyguards didn’t even try to hide, openly shadowing and monitoring me. Occasionally, when I showed discomfort, Trevor would take my hand to soothe me. “Summer, your family is just looking out for you, afraid you might do something foolish again.” “All the misunderstandings have been cleared up, right? Promise me you won’t overthink things anymore, okay?” “We haven’t stopped you these past few days. We’ve been helping you search. Is there even a single trace of Lucas existing in your life?” I nodded silently, squeezing his hand back. “Yes, if Lucas truly existed, he would have left a trace.” “Anyway, thank you for coming with me to New York. It felt good to personally teach Caleb a lesson and get some much-needed revenge.” Behind me, Caleb lay battered, unable to stand. Trevor hadn’t heard what I’d said to Caleb while I was beating him. “If you want to live, help me find that iPhone I took to be repaired in the run-down part of the city.” No one knew I had already found the proof of Lucas’s existence! The iPhone, and those red high heels. I was incredibly thankful that before being discharged, I’d managed to scratch out the third line of text. Otherwise, they would surely have found a plausible explanation for those two items too. A few days later, I feigned waking up from a nightmare. Mom and Dad rushed in immediately, asking what was wrong. I said, “I dreamed of Caleb again.” “Is Trevor free? Can he take me to New York one more time?” I didn’t know what methods they had used to erase all traces of Lucas. But I knew that iPhone must contain information from Lucas, or from me before my amnesia, left for me…

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After the SAT Test, the school belle posted my pregnancy test results in the class SnapChat group. “She’s really desperate for money! Selling herself right after turning eighteen. Do you even remember who the father is? Probably some gross old man.” Everyone else joined in mocking me, and someone even shared a photo of me kneeling in the field, digging up sweet potatoes with my hand on my lower back. Just then, the always aloof wealthy heir from the city’s elite circle said, “I’m the father. Got a problem with that?” 1 A few months ago, my grandma suddenly had heart failure. I couldn’t scrape together enough money, so I took a job as a server at a nightclub. That’s where I ran into Liam, a classmate who had been drugged. His handsome face was flushed red, and he was barely conscious. He grabbed my hand and shoved it under his shirt. I hesitated for a second, then took him back to the staff locker room. All the other staff were on shift, so he and I stayed in the back room, tangled up in passion for most of the night. The next morning, Liam just said, “Here’s fifty grand. Don’t cause any trouble.” I took the money and rushed to the hospital to pay the bills. But in the chaos, I forgot about taking the morning-after pill. By the time I remembered, I realized my period was way overdue. I bought a test kit, saw the two lines, and felt my heart sink. I kept putting off dealing with it, and my belly kept growing. I tied it down with cloth strips to take the SAT Test, but I ended up so exhausted I landed in the hospital. That’s when Bella, the school belle, snapped a photo of me and mocked me in the group chat. Liam showed up at my place the next day. His grandma came with him. Liam’s face was expressionless, his eyes scanning over my stomach. His grandma, though, was kinder. She held my hand and asked how old I was, where my parents were, and if I had any other family. I honestly told her both my parents were dead, and I only had my grandma left. The old woman’s eyes welled up. “What a poor child,” she said. She offered to take me in. I couldn’t leave my paralyzed grandma behind, so she said she’d arrange for her to stay at a nursing home owned by Liam’s family. “To be frank, families like ours don’t usually take in people from your background. But you’re carrying our family’s first grandchild, and you’re Liam’s first woman. We thought it’d be wrong to just leave you out here alone.” On the way back, Liam kept his eyes closed and didn’t say a word. I couldn’t tell if he liked me or hated me. He tossed my clothes on the sofa and told me to sleep there every night. That’s when I knew—he definitely hated me. Liam’s house was huge, with three separate bedrooms just in his wing. He put me in the smallest one, and when I looked up, I saw a bright, elegant photo of a ballet dancer. Liam walked in, hands in his pockets. “Pretty, right? I’ve liked her for a long time.” He said it while glancing at me, a faint disgust in his eyes. I lowered my head but stole another look. So graceful. No wonder he looked down on me. 2 After moving in, we started sharing a room. I couldn’t sleep, so I tilted my head to look at him. Then he said, “Stop moving around when you sleep.” “I wasn’t,” I said. “Yes, you were. Your breathing is too loud.” “Sorry.” Liam went quiet after that and slowly fell asleep. I’d had trouble sleeping for ages, but somehow, I drifted off too. That night, I had those awful nightmares again—Mom’s screams, Dad’s roars, and finally, the bloody knife. When I woke up the next morning, Liam was already up. He didn’t wait for me, so I couldn’t find the bathroom and ended up brushing my teeth and washing my face in his. When I went downstairs, the ballet dancer was sitting at the dining table, elegantly sipping milk. She saw me and smiled sweetly. “Oh, you must be Liam’s fiancée. You’re so pretty.” Angels are angels—even their compliments are kind. I’d spent years under the sun farming, so “pretty” was the last word I’d use for myself. Liam sat next to her, and I found out her name was Chloe, a lead dancer in a famous international ballet company. They’d grown up together, and to everyone else, she was like Liam’s caring older sister. But I knew Liam was in love with her—under the bed in that small room were piles of her photos. It must feel amazing to be loved like that. I couldn’t help the jealousy, but I pushed it down. After breakfast, Liam’s grandma, Eleanor, sat me down to discuss terms for the baby. She said Liam was too young to marry, especially not me. The baby would be raised as his sibling. As the mother, I’d get a huge payout—a villa in the city and ten million in cash. If I wanted, the family would even send me to study in Europe. The catch? I could never see the child again. While Eleanor was talking, Liam was nearby, flicking a lighter, giving me that same faint, mocking smile. I sighed softly and nodded. “Okay, I agree.” Liam’s hand, spinning the lighter, froze. After the exams, we had a long break with nothing to do, so both Liam and I were free. I thought he’d avoid me, but he didn’t seem to care. Besides his morning and evening workouts, he mostly read in his study. But while I was practicing French, he suddenly said, “Your pronunciation is off. The nasal sounds are too heavy—it’ll tire you out.” I stared blankly before realizing he was talking to me. “Huh? Oh, okay.” “Aren’t you tired sitting like that?” Liam pointed at my lower back. “Won’t it… crush the baby?” I followed his gaze. “No, he’s still small.” “Okay.” Liam took a sip of water. I thought he’d leave, but he invited me to study with him in the library. “The room’s big enough, and there’s an extra chair. Come on.” “Don’t crush the baby,” he added, as if worried I’d misunderstand. I grabbed my books and followed him. Liam’s library was ridiculously huge but neatly organized. As he said, he only used one corner. I picked a spot far from him and spread out my books. For hours that afternoon, I focused on studying, even forgetting the bird’s nest soup the nanny brought. Liam frowned, pushed the cup with his finger, and tapped the desk. “Hey. Drink it.” I glanced at him and obediently drank the soup. Then I went back to my book. Liam clicked his tongue. “Ava.” “Yeah?” He ruffled his hair in frustration. “Why aren’t you angry?” 3 “I… I don’t have anything to be angry about.” “Liam, I know I’m not on your level. If it weren’t for that mistake… I wouldn’t have messed up your life.” Before I knew it, tears of frustration were streaming down my face. Liam turned away. “Stop crying!” But his tone wasn’t actually harsh. After Bella posted my pregnancy test results and everyone found out Liam was the father, the class SnapChat group went eerily quiet. But I knew she wouldn’t let me off easily—not after bullying me for so long. Sure enough, a few days later, I saw Bella and her friends in the living room at Liam’s house. They were talking to Eleanor. When Eleanor saw me coming downstairs, she wasn’t as warm as before. Instead, she called a doctor to do an amniocentesis. “Your classmates say you’re always picking up men at clubs. I was careless to believe Liam without verifying first.” Bella and her friends chimed in, “Yeah, Grandma, Ava slept with almost every guy in our class. She’s no good.” “Did you know? When she was nine, her mom stabbed her dad to death and paralyzed her grandma. What kind of family raises a kid like that?” “Don’t let her looks fool you—she’s cheap. Fifty bucks will buy her. I heard several old men in her village have had her.” Bella’s words stabbed at my nerves. All the terrible memories came flooding back. I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to stay calm. I’d survived worse—dark, painful days. I was so close to my goal; I couldn’t ruin it now. I kept my head down, trying to steady my breathing. I didn’t notice Liam watching everything from upstairs. He came down slowly, about to speak, when the doctor arrived. Eleanor had someone hold my arm still for the blood draw. When the needle pierced my skin, I flinched. Liam’s eyes darkened from across the room. After it was done, Eleanor waved me away upstairs. “If you’re lying, I’ll make sure you have nowhere to run.” Rich people are like that—they can’t stand being deceived or slighted. I kept my head low and left, ignoring the laughter behind me. As I passed Liam, he grabbed my arm. “Why didn’t you defend yourself?” I looked at him through tears. “What?” “Why didn’t you argue, get angry, fight back?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Liam, are you kidding? Someone like me has no right to argue.” How could I dare offend his grandma? It was just a DNA test. I knew the baby was Liam’s, so I wasn’t worried about their lies. Bella looked smug, giggling in a fake sweet voice until she saw Liam, then softening her tone. “Liam, you’re so unlucky to be stuck with a shameless girl like her.” Liam didn’t get angry. He watched me for a moment before glaring coldly at her. “Yeah, seeing you is the real misfortune.” 4 That night, Liam finished washing up early and lay in bed on a call. After updating his parents, he hung up. I had headphones on, watching a soap opera. Suddenly, he scooped me up and put me on his bed. I’d been crying over the show, and he lifted my chin. “Why are you crying?” I was annoyed but didn’t dare say it, so I pouted and glared. Liam took my phone and tossed it on the nightstand, then climbed under the covers. “No more crying. Sleep.” What was he doing? Sharing a bed with me? I stared wide-eyed, too shocked to be mad. Liam seemed to realize how it looked, his face flashing with embarrassment before he coughed. “I just don’t want you rolling over and crushing the baby.” He said it so confidently I didn’t push it. Fine, we’d slept together before. I turned over, clinging to the edge, and fell asleep. I had no idea Liam was in and out of the bathroom all night. After that, Liam changed—he became clingy and softer. He insisted we share the bed. He said my belly was growing, and the small bed might hurt the baby. The hospital results came back, and Eleanor was relieved, adding a few million to my payout. The thought of becoming rich after the birth made me giddy. But Liam seemed down lately. He’d complain my French practice was too loud, but when I offered to study in the closet, he refused. He moped around like someone owed him money. I avoided conflict, giving in to keep peace, but it only made him sulkier. One night, he went out for dinner and came back late. He’d been drinking, stumbling a bit. The staff tried to help, but he waved them off. I heard the door click open and saw Liam slumped on the sofa, groaning about feeling sick. I had to help him change and clean up. I thought it’d be hard with him drunk, but when I tugged his collar, he sat up and shrugged off his sleeves. …Not bad for a drunk guy. Liam had a great body—defined abs, pecs, and biceps. And he was restless, grabbing my hand to feel his chest, making my heart race. I pinched him. “Liam, you’re drunk. Let me wash your face.” Eyes closed, he mumbled, “No, don’t.” Nothing like his usual cold self. I teased him, “Then I’ll touch you?” I slid my hand into his pants. Liam’s eyes flew open, and he pulled me into a tight hug. His right arm wrapped around my waist, left under his head. “Ava, you’ve got nerve.” I felt a rush of shame. “Let me go. I won’t do it again.” “No way. I finally caught you not being icy. Why would I let go?” “Unless you kiss me.” Since when did the cold-hearted heir talk like this? I didn’t hesitate, planting a loud kiss. Hey, I’d been craving this too. The physical attraction took over—two young people losing control. Only Liam’s self-restraint kept things gentle, so we didn’t go too far. Before falling asleep, he kissed my forehead, his voice unusually soft. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.” Liam and I had a rare, warm period together. Like a normal couple, we went everywhere together and slept in each other’s arms. It almost made me forget it was all a transaction. Until the day Liam’s mom, Victoria, walked in, followed by Chloe and Bella. Chloe had lost weight, her foot bandaged. She saw Liam and threw herself into his arms. “Liam, I’ll never dance again.” Turns out Chloe had a car accident in Vancouver, injuring her ankle, ending her dance career. Liam held Chloe, comforting her softly. Bella smugly pushed forward. “Ava, listen up. If I can’t have him, neither can you.” “Liam loves my cousin Chloe, not trash like you. Don’t think a bastard child will get you into the family.” Gotta admit, Bella was spot-on. After just one afternoon with Chloe back, the family started pushing me out. Victoria came to my room, sat on the bed, and frowned at the nightstand. “You’re sleeping together?” I nodded, fighting back tears. Victoria rolled her eyes. “So shameless.” I’d heard insults like that before—I shouldn’t cry. But the baby kicked, and I couldn’t hold back the tears.

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The day I found out my wife had a three-year-old son with another man, I planted explosives in our mansion, ready to end it all with her. But that night, Isabella never came home. As despair consumed me, I heard my ten-month-old daughter call out “Daddy” for the first time. In that moment, I no longer wanted to die. I took the most expensive car from the garage and detonated the bombs outside the mansion. Amid the flames, I drove to the airport. From then on, the man once known as Harbor City’s laughingstock—Isabella’s husband—vanished without a trace. Five years later, we met again at a heritage-town inn. She stared at me as I politely handed her the room key, her expression dazed. “Lucas, you seem… different from before.” I didn’t respond, only smiling as I wished her family of three a pleasant stay. 01 The room key hung in the air, but Isabella made no move to take it. My wrist grew sore, so I spoke again. “Ms. Isabella, your key.” “I’ll take it.” A clear voice cut through the tension from behind her. It was her legally wedded husband, Adrian. My gaze brushed against the glaring wedding band on his finger, then collided with those familiar eyes—the ones that haunted my nightmares. “I told you to wait on the sofa. Why won’t you listen? You worry me.” Isabella instinctively took his belongings and melted into his embrace. She pressed her hand to his forehead, her voice softer than I’d ever heard: “Good, no fever.” “You must be tired. Take our son upstairs to rest. I’ll buy some warm congee.” Adrian nodded gently, his eyes sweeping over me with scrutiny: “Alright, I’ll wait for you.” As they embraced, I looked away—only to see a deliveryman hauling in cat litter. While checking the pickup code, Isabella bent to lift the bags. “Let me help. Where should these go?” “No need.” I reached for the bags, deliberately keeping my distance. Noticing the dust smudges on her dress, I walked to the counter and handed her two bills. “For dry cleaning. I’ll cover the cost.” “Really, it’s fine. I offered to help.” Isabella reached to stop me, her fingers nearly brushing my wrist before I pulled back. Her hand froze mid-air, her voice tinged with unspoken bitterness: “Don’t trouble yourself. I should go.” As she turned, she nearly collided with Chloe, the staff member returning with sugar-roasted chestnuts. Chloe stared at Isabella’s retreating figure, then tugged my sleeve excitedly: “Lucas, wasn’t that Isabella Smith from Harbor City’s Smith Group? She’s stunning! “I’ve seen her interviews—she built her empire from nothing and never stops praising her husband. “Talented and devoted? She’s perfection!” Other guests chimed in: “True! I heard her ex-husband was insane—should’ve been jailed for assault.” “She showed mercy by paying him off, but she finally divorced him after enduring so much.” Hearing these slurs again, I felt nothing—my heart was a stagnant pond. Only the scar on my thumb webbed with a dull throb. 02 Rubbing the centipede-like scar on my thumb, memories surged back. Isabella was never some self-made entrepreneur—she was the bullied scholarship student no one noticed. I found her cornered by rich kids in the freezing wind, forehead bleeding through her faded uniform. I grabbed a wooden pole and fought them off. In the chaos, glass sliced my thumb to the bone—eight stitches to stop the bleeding. Isabella slipped away from the hospital because she couldn’t afford the medical bill. Her father was a drunk; her mother, mentally unstable. After that, I protected her instinctively. She remained quiet but tutored me in math after school. When she aced the high school entrance exam as the city’s top scorer, she couldn’t afford tuition. I begged my dad to fund her education until she started working in college. During her internship, those same rich kids harassed her. My dad brought her into our family company and mentored her himself. Isabella had a gift for business—complex data reports made sense at a glance. I’d sit beside her, chin in hand, admiring her focused profile. My dad saw my feelings. Even knowing Isabella only felt gratitude, he helped her start a company after graduation. Within a year, Isabella built a name in Harbor City. Then my mom fell ill. Dad made reckless decisions trying to save the company. When bankruptcy loomed, Isabella turned things around. Dad always said she was our family’s savior, that she owed us nothing and should live freely. But she knelt before him, swearing with fierce determination: “Lucas, I can never repay your kindness. Please entrust your son to me—I’ll care for him forever, never letting him suffer.” The old scar on my thumb throbbed again. I lowered my gaze to the ugly mark and almost laughed. How naive I was—mistaking gratitude for love. After that, I called myself her husband without any formal title. I lingered at her company, silently staking my claim. Isabella never objected. She even let me choose her personal assistant, noting: “Pick a sharp woman.” But during interviews, Adrian’s resume stood out—not for being divorced, childless, or professing to be “child-free.” It was his eyes—identical to Isabella’s late mother’s. In her lucid moments, Isabella’s mother was her only light in a bleak childhood. So I hired Adrian without question. When Isabella saw him, her eyes reddened with emotion. That night, she held me, trembling through tears, thanking me repeatedly. I pitied her, often inviting Adrian over, creating chances for them to bond. I thought I was helping—never realizing I was digging my own grave. 03 The gossips dispersed. I picked up my daughter’s photo frame, wiping it absently. Chloe nibbled chestnuts and asked casually: “Lucas, why don’t you ever eat these? They’re delicious.” My hand stilled. Painful memories engulfed me. My mom and I loved chestnuts. Dad always brought home a warm bag after work. Mom would peel them, blowing gently before feeding me. But the year Mom was dying, in her final lucid moment, she craved chestnuts. Dad drove to buy them—then got a call that Mom was critical. In his panic, he sped into an oncoming truck and died instantly. The freshly bought chestnuts scattered, stained with his blood. That first snowy winter day, I lost both parents. Chloe’s eyes welled up, flustered. She moved the chestnuts away, voice cautious: “Lucas, don’t be sad. Chloe and Mia will always be here for you. “Mia’s school bus will arrive soon. Let’s explore the heritage town tonight—” She broke off, staring at my daughter’s eyes in the photo, mouth agape. “Lucas, Mia’s missing mother… it’s not…” I nodded confirmation. Chloe hesitated, then asked softly, eyes brimming with pity: “Then… those rumors… Lucas, how much did you suffer?” I froze, nose stinging at her concern—but it passed. I smiled faintly. We did have happy years once. The day my parents died, Isabella proposed. She had lawyers transfer all her company shares to me—no strings attached. Kneeling, she vowed to give me a new family, to care for me forever, begging me to stop crying because it broke her heart. I collapsed from grief. Isabella arranged my parents’ funeral alone. When I recovered, we registered our marriage. No wedding, just college-era promise rings—but I was content, feeling like the luckiest man alive. I poured all my love into Isabella. I knew she was busy, so I never demanded much. I waited up for her in the lit living room when she worked late. I packed my bags to accompany her on business trips. And she didn’t disappoint. At first, Isabella adored me—her obsessive love became Harbor City’s envy. Newspaper headlines and billboards bore her declarations: “I love Lucas”—her public love letter to the city. Just as I healed from losing my parents, news of her affair with Adrian trended online. My “brother” embraced and kissed her in a rooftop garden restaurant. It was my birthday. I’d cooked all Isabella’s favorite dishes, wearing the suit she gifted me, waiting all night. I called repeatedly—she always answered, soothing me gently: “At a work event, be good. I’ll be home soon.” Adrian spent his entire bonus on a luxury watch for me, with a note: “Happy birthday, my best friend.” That night, I thought I had the world. I didn’t know my deepest wounds would come from those I cherished most. 04 Seeing the trending news, I drove off in a rage. Tears blurred my vision—I nearly rear-ended cars twice. But I didn’t care—I needed answers. At the restaurant, I saw Adrian holding the car door for Isabella. I stormed over. Isabella shielded Adrian, her gaze icy, unrepentant: “Lucas, what’s your problem?” Adrian peered over her shoulder, greeting me warmly. Around his pale neck was the Smith family heirloom necklace I’d always loved but never worn. Beside it, a deep red hickey burned my eyes. I lunged at him, fists flying wildly. “Why? I treated you like a brother! Why betray me?” Adrian sobbed dramatically, cowering behind Isabella—but his eyes gleamed with triumph. Isabella shoved me away, fussing over Adrian, soothing his fake tears. I crumpled to the ground, clutching my aching stomach, watching them embrace—heart shattered. When Isabella turned to confront me, she saw blood seeping through my shirt. I was hospitalized. The stab wound I’d taken for her days earlier had reopened because of her. She rushed me to the hospital, staying by my bed, her worried devotion mirroring the past, apologizing repeatedly: “Lucas, I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never hurt you again.” I slapped her, kicked and cursed her, wishing her dead. Isabella took it all, eyes red as she coaxed: “Calm down. Your health matters.” Enraged, I screamed I’d make Adrian pay. Isabella snapped—slapping my face, voice venomous: “Lucas, harm him, and I’ll make your life hell!” Watching her defend her lover, hatred festered in me. After that, Isabella stopped visiting. She flaunted Adrian everywhere. My phone flooded with their bed photos—anonymous taunts. I trashed our home, shredded anything of Isabella’s, burned our wedding album. After recovering, I used my dad’s connections to blacklist Adrian across Harbor City. I exposed their affair publicly. Suddenly, Adrian was a social pariah; Isabella lost major contracts. She retaliated wildly, confining me to a hotel for months, tying me down, forcing herself on me—all recorded. She blurred her image but left mine clear, releasing the video online. Adrian’s scandal faded; I became the joke. Those who once flattered me cut ties overnight. My dad’s failing company lost its last client—bankrupt for good. The day my reputation died, Isabella freed me. Seething with hatred, I stormed her company with a knife. I injured Adrian, cut Isabella’s arm. In my frenzy, she signed papers selling my dad’s company shares for peanuts. His life’s work—destroyed in an instant. I begged on my knees, invoking my dad’s kindness, pleading for her conscience. Isabella looked down, sneering: “Lucas, any debt I owed your family was repaid when I saved your dad’s company.” “Hurt Adrian, and I’ll destroy you slowly.” That day, I saw their son, Ryan. I realized their affair began when I hired Adrian. I had no wedding, no ring—because Isabella feared upsetting Adrian. Even those public love letters were Adrian’s decoys to deceive me, hiding their family. I was their clown for years. My heart felt nothing—only seething hatred. That night, I planted bombs, ready to die with her. That night, my daughter’s voice saved me. I triggered the explosion, faked my death, and vanished from Harbor City. Chloe sobbed uncontrollably. I wiped her tears and went to meet Mia’s school bus. Chloe followed, voice hoarse from cursing Isabella as a monster. But as I held Mia’s hand, I met a familiar gaze. Isabella dropped her congee, pupils dilating as she stared at my daughter: “Whose child… is this?”

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After his crush moved in pregnant, my husband Liam turned into a stay-at-home good man, rushing back the moment he got off work. Colleagues and neighbors envied me for marrying such a great guy. But I could only force a bitter smile in silence. Because he wasn’t rushing home for me—he was taking care of his pregnant crush. I cried and argued, but he just said, “Why can’t you understand my dilemma? I just want to make up for past regrets.” I couldn’t win the argument, so I left home, heartbroken. Then, a figure blocked my path. “Zoe, long time no see.” I looked up in disbelief—James, the guy I’d had a crush on for years, was leaning awkwardly on crutches, but his eyes were still gentle and soft. Tears instantly welled up in my eyes. In that moment, I finally understood my husband. I couldn’t help but grab his hand and say, “Come home with me. I’ll take care of you.” “Why are you back so late? Hurry inside—don’t let the cold air in. Isabella can’t handle the chill.” “Also, Isabella has bad morning sickness, so her diet needs extra care. I’m making special meals for her, and you should stop eating those…” Liam, wearing an apron, froze in place. I didn’t have time to notice him, carefully supporting James. “Be careful with this step. I’ll get the door replaced tomorrow—the threshold is too high.” James didn’t move. He let out a deep sigh and said, “Zoe, I appreciate your kindness, but it’s not right for me to move into your home.” “I can manage on my own…” Before he could finish, his left leg trembled weakly. I quickly let him lean on me, my heart aching. “How can you manage alone?” “Your leg is in such bad shape—how could I not worry?” James stubbornly stayed at the doorway, refusing to enter. He was too cautious to move freely, a far cry from the confident guy he used to be. Seeing him like this broke my heart. I followed his gaze and saw Liam scowling as he said, “You want to let another man live in our house?” “Did you even ask for my opinion?” James’s leg gave way slightly, and he leaned on me again. My heart clenched, and I snapped, “What’s wrong with him staying?” “He’s disabled—what could he possibly do?” “He’s already in this state—don’t you have any sympathy?” Liam sneered coldly. “What does his disability have to do with me?” “If people find out my wife brought a man home, openly cuckolding me, I’d be the laughingstock.” “No way! I won’t allow it!” I was about to retort when a frail voice called from inside. “Liam, where did you go? I feel awful—come here now!” I felt a wave of relief and said sarcastically, “If people find out my husband brought a pregnant woman home, I wonder if they’d tear him apart behind his back?” Liam glared at me. “How dare you? How dare you slander Isabella?” I shot back without hesitation, “Why wouldn’t I dare?” The woman inside began to sob softly. Liam panicked, gritting his teeth. “Don’t disturb Isabella.” With that, he hurried toward the inner room. I knew he was backing down for Isabella’s sake—he’d agreed. I helped James inside; his feet could barely hold him up. Once we were in, I quickly had him sit on the couch. He still whispered, “Zoe, I really shouldn’t be intruding on your life…” “Zoe, I just wanted to see you from afar, but I… it’s all my fault…” “I think it’s better if I don’t burden you.” A scoff came from the kitchen. “If you know you’re disrupting someone’s marriage, why the fake sympathy act?” I ignored Liam, helped James with his crutches, and said gently, “Don’t mind him—he’s always like that.” “Just settle in and rest easy.”

I carried James’s things straight into the guest room. Liam barked, “Stop!” “You want another man living with you?” “Letting him into the house is my limit—are you pushing your luck?” “Absolutely not!” I didn’t stop, dragging the luggage inside. Liam rushed over, soap suds still on his hands, and grabbed my wrist, demanding, “Are you insane?” I shook him off and asked, “Isabella isn’t feeling well, and she needs the big bed to sleep comfortably.” “I’ve already given up the master bedroom. Didn’t you say I could do whatever I wanted with the guest room?” When we first married, we weren’t too picky about the house. But we wanted our own space after tying the knot, so we bought a small place. There are only two rooms, and Isabella had whined and pleaded her way into taking the master bedroom. My stuff was in there, and she complained it was too cluttered and suffocating. So, I was forced to move into the guest room, me and all my things. Liam paused for a moment, seeming to remember that, and his tone softened, though he still frowned. “It’s not about what you do with the room.” I asked, confused, “Then what is it?” “James can’t get around easily—his legs are still healing. Where else is he supposed to sleep?” Liam’s temper flared again: “But he’s a man!” Seeing Liam’s flushed face, it hit me—wasn’t that my old line? I sighed; we needed to talk this out. “Liam, I was wrong.” Liam toned it down: “Glad you see that.” I looked him in the eye and said sincerely, “I mean, I finally get how you feel.” “Isabella is your crush, and seeing her suffer hurts you.” “Today, I felt the same way about James. I can’t just abandon him.” “How about this: you take care of Isabella, and I’ll take care of James. We’ll coexist peacefully.” “You fix your past regrets, and I fulfill my old self—it’s a win-win.” But Liam blurted out, “Ridiculous!” “This is utterly ridiculous!” I was baffled. “Isn’t it perfect? Besides, you were the one who let Isabella move in first. If anyone’s being ridiculous, it’s you!” Liam stood there, speechless for a long moment, his face still red—clearly not convinced. Isabella made noise from the master bathroom. “Liam, come quick!” Surprisingly, Liam didn’t rush in immediately like he usually did. He stayed put, studying me quietly. “Zoe, are you doing this to get back at me?” Isabella’s voice grew louder, and I didn’t have time to argue, so I pushed him away. “What revenge? Just go. Isabella’s pregnant—if something happens, it’ll be bad.” Liam finally left, half-reluctantly. I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to finish tidying up. James is sensitive—I needed to get back to him fast.

The next morning, as I brought breakfast out of the kitchen, I ran into Liam coming from the master bedroom. He stammered an explanation. “Isabella was restless at night—I stayed up with her later.” I gave him a puzzled look. Wasn’t that his routine lately? Why was he explaining to me? I nodded flatly and moved to walk past him. But as I stepped away, I heard Liam’s cheerful voice. “Zoe, I knew it—you still care about me most.” “These dumplings are my favorite.” I swatted his hand away. “What are you doing?” “Doesn’t Isabella get sick from the smell of meat?” “I made these specially for James.” With that, I brushed past him and headed to the living room. I love meat, but since Isabella moved in, I’d been banned from eating it at home. At one point, I ate lamb outside, and she threw a fit over the slight smell. Isabella seemed to have a radar for meat on me. She never yelled—just covered her nose and made a scene in the bathroom with the water running loud. But later, I kept seeing her order meat snacks online. Liam just said, “She’s pregnant—why bother arguing?” I shook my head, clearing those unhappy memories. In the living room, James, who’d been smiling at me, suddenly turned cautious again. I turned and saw Liam had followed me. “Zoe, you’ve worked so hard!” “I’m so useless—if only my legs weren’t injured!” “You stayed up all night with me, and now you’re making breakfast… I just…” Seeing his guilty look, I rushed to comfort him. “Of course not! I’m happy to do it.” “And your legs—you saved that kid from traffic because of you.” I was about to say more when Liam exploded. “I thought we agreed I’d sleep on the couch and give you the study?” “Zoe, you stayed in the guest room with him all night?” At his words, James lowered his head. I felt a surge of anger. “Liam, his legs were hurting—of course I had to stay.” “Isn’t that the same as you staying with Isabella?” Liam froze, reflexively rebuting, “It’s not the same…” “What’s different?” I cut him off. “I don’t care about Isabella, so don’t bother with James.” That shut Liam up. He stood there, lost in thought. I ignored him and handed the plate to James. “James, this is from your favorite spot. I got the ginger and vinegar—it’ll be delicious.” James finally grinned and said, “Thank you, Zoe.” But Liam snatched it away. “Zoe? What Zoe?” “Why are you eating what my wife bought?” “Why are you calling her Zoe? She has a name—it’s Zoe, not your pet name!” James murmured, “But she’s always been my Zoe…” I glared at Liam. “What’s your problem?” Isabella called out from inside again. For once, Liam didn’t jump to attention—he just stared at me, refusing to back down. As tension mounted, Isabella walked out, eyes red.

“Liam, didn’t you hear me?” “Or do you think I’m a burden too?” “Maybe I should just leave. I’m only holding you back here.” If I’d seen Isabella’s tearful act before, I’d have rolled my eyes. But now, I felt a pang of pity too. Liam quickly denied it. “Isabella, how could you be a burden?” “I just didn’t hear you. Wait, I’ll get your breakfast ready.” Liam scurried off to the kitchen. Watching him rush off for Isabella, I relaxed, grateful she’d shown up at the right time. After breakfast, a new problem arose. I had to go to work, but I worried about leaving James alone with them. James seemed to sense my concern and said understandingly, “Zoe, focus on your job.” “I’ve been on my own before—you know I can handle basic things.” I glanced toward the kitchen. Liam came out and sneered, “What do you take me for?” “Some monster who’d attack a disabled person?” I smiled awkwardly. Was I doubting my own husband’s character? Though Liam had been moody lately, he was undeniably a good person. I married him because he was kind. In life, he respected his parents, was loyal to friends, and before Isabella, we had a happy marriage. At work, he was always voted favorite teacher by his students. He often donated to charity and volunteered. I shouldn’t have doubted him. Once I cleared my head, I felt okay leaving for work. At the office, I was still anxious. Colleagues noticed my distraction and asked what was wrong. Finally, counting down the minutes till getting off work, I rushed home. As I walked in, I saw James collapsed on the floor, a complete mess. I ran over to check on him. James insisted, “Zoe, I’m fine.” Liam sneered, “Of course he’s fine—he’s faking it.” “Zoe, don’t fall for his act.” James hung his head, lips tight, eyes reddening. “Zoe, I’m just a burden. I cause trouble here—please let me go.” That word sounded familiar, but I didn’t have time to think where I’d heard it. Liam immediately agreed, “He’s right—he’s too much trouble. Zoe, let him leave.” Anger flared, but as I was about to argue, I caught the red rim of James’s eyes. Almost instantly, I calmed down. Honestly, thinking it over, my marriage with Liam was already dead. Maybe it was time to end it. James’s legs were injured—if he stayed, I dreaded what might happen to him when I wasn’t around. Leaving was the best choice. I nodded. “Okay.” Liam brightened. “Zoe, glad you see sense.” I looked at him seriously. “We’re not in a good place now—we should separate.” “Liam, let’s get a divorce.” Liam was stunned. “Zoe, what are you saying? You’d divorce me for a cripple?”

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The night before my wedding, I stumbled upon a post: 【I’m getting married soon, but my mom is furious and cries constantly. She can’t accept me and my wife having children. What should I do?】 Someone replied: 【Then don’t get married. Don’t ruin that girl’s life.】 He replied: 【But she’s great. She’s my best choice for marriage, though only for marriage.】 Another person said: 【Tell your mom to have her own baby!】 He actually replied: 【Even though my mom is pretty and has a good figure, she’s old now. The quality of the child definitely wouldn’t be ideal.】 Another netizen commented: 【Just find someone else to have a baby for you. Still get married. If your wife asks, tell her you’re doing it to spare her the pain. She’ll be touched to tears, I guarantee it.】 I thought these people were all insane. But then, the next second, my boyfriend pushed open my door: 【Baby, I think having a baby is too hard. I don’t want you to take that risk. How about we get someone else to have it?】 I honestly thought I’d misheard him, just staring, dumbfounded. He knelt in front of me, gripping my hands tightly, his eyes filled with an unnerving sincerity: “Baby, I just watched a video online about childbirth. “It was bloody, and the mom was screaming in pain. It sounded absolutely agonizing. “And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The key thing is, she later had a massive hemorrhage, an amniotic fluid embolism, and just died. “Baby, just thinking about all that scares me. I would never let you go through such a dangerous situation.” My mind was reeling from that post I’d just read, and I broke out in a cold sweat. Was *he* the one who posted it? Seeing my lack of reaction, he continued: “Baby, I truly can’t lose you. I can’t let you take even the slightest risk. I’m thinking…” “Then let’s just be DINKs. No kids.” I cut him off, testing him. He immediately let go of my hands and jumped up: “How could we do that? I’m a traditional guy. I want babies! I would never be a DINK; I can’t let our family line end.” “Baby, how could you even think that?” Before I could speak, he went on: “My mom wouldn’t agree either.” I’m not actually a DINK. I was just trying to gauge his reaction. But his response only fueled my suspicion. To confirm my hunch, I pressed him: “You want kids, you don’t want to be DINKs, but you’re too worried about me to let me have them. So where would the baby come from? “Popping out of a rock?” He knelt before me again: “Baby, I’ve looked into it. It’s really simple to find someone else to have a baby now. I even asked about the price—it’s only around thirty to forty thousand dollars.” Thirty to forty thousand dollars. He was actually willing to spend that much. Just a few days ago, when I mentioned our wedding should be around $20,000, he was complaining about money, saying his mom worked so hard alone and didn’t have that much. But now, thirty to forty thousand dollars was fine? To avoid alarming him, I pretended to nod. He excitedly kissed my cheek, then grabbed his phone and turned to his study. The next second, I saw the post update: 【Guys, my wife agreed! I can’t believe how easy she was to convince.】 The comment section was buzzing with people asking him for advice, and he replied smugly: 【Just tell her it’s for her own good, tell her you’re worried about her! Hahaha, women, they’re so easy to trick!】 The netizens collectively liked the comment: 【Exactly! Women, heh, they’re all idiots!】 【What do they understand beyond makeup, handbags, and jewelry? It just takes a few words from us men.】 【Right? If I want to sweet-talk them, I can get them into bed for free in minutes.】

A bunch of trash. After confirming that the post was definitely made by Ryan, I quickly packed my bags. He was messing with me like this behind my back? I wouldn’t let him get away with it. As I walked out with my suitcase, Ryan happened to come out to use the restroom. He paused, surprised: “Baby, where are you going in the middle of the night? With luggage?” To avoid raising his suspicions, I had to say: “My mom isn’t feeling well. She wants me to stay for a few days, and we can discuss our wedding details. “Ryan, you should talk to your mom about the money situation soon too.” He didn’t suspect a thing. He even drove me home himself. But as soon as I put my luggage away, I saw his post update again: 【Guys, in my situation, since I’m not making her have a baby, does that mean I don’t have to give her any money for the wedding?】 Someone replied: 【Of course! Don’t they always say money is for the ‘baby fund’? So if she’s not having the baby, why would you give her any money?】 【I say, even if she *did* have the baby, you shouldn’t have to give her money. The baby is for *her* to have, why should she get paid for it?】 【Exactly, it’s an outdated tradition! When I get married, I won’t give any woman a single cent. Marry me or die!】 Ryan liked all their comments. I clenched my phone tightly and told my mom: “The wedding’s off, Mom. Please tell all our relatives not to come.” My mom didn’t understand why. She worriedly stroked my hair: “What happened, sweetie? Tell me.” I handed her my phone. Halfway through reading, she became furious: “I’m so mad! What is Ryan thinking? Messing around with his mom and then wanting to find someone else to have a baby? “What does he intend to marry you for? Purely to ruin you? “Sweetie, don’t worry, we definitely can’t go through with this wedding, but we’re definitely not letting them get away with this.” Of course, we wouldn’t. So I only notified my side of the family to cancel. As for Ryan’s family, the wedding would proceed as planned! While my mom was still calling relatives one by one, Ryan called me: “Baby, my mom wants you to come over. She said she wants to talk about the money.” Remembering Ryan’s words in the post, I still went. Brenda sat primly on the couch in a tight-fitting mermaid dress. Ryan leaned back against the sofa behind her, playfully twirling her curled hair. They used to be this close, and back then, I’d just thought of it as the most normal mother-son affection. But now, it just looked utterly disgusting to me! “Chloe’s here, huh? Before, you mentioned $20,000 for the wedding gift. “I was originally fine with that, but yesterday, Ryan told me you don’t want to have children. So that price isn’t quite right now. “What do you think?” I glanced at Ryan: “You told her I don’t want to have kids?” He averted his gaze for a second, then quickly said: “Baby, I just can’t bear for you to have to go through it, but my mom’s right too. Maybe we can discuss taking a little less money.” I forced a smile: “How much less is ‘a little less’?” “Eight dollars and eighty cents!”

Brenda spoke up: “For good luck, right? Originally, I thought we shouldn’t give you anything at all, but I didn’t want people to say you’re cheap, so I’ll give you eight dollars and eighty cents. “After all, *you’re* not having the baby, and we have to find someone else to have one for us, which will cost hundreds of thousands. All that money should come from you.” I was seething. My fingers clenched into tight fists behind my back. “So, Ryan, in your family’s eyes, I’m only worth eight dollars and eighty cents?” He tried to come over and soothe me, but Brenda gripped his hand tightly: “Chloe, you’re a modern woman now, and the standard for a good modern girl is *not* wanting money, isn’t it? “But what *you* give can’t be less; that’s the rule. “Originally, it was agreed you’d give $20,000 and a car, but now we have to find someone to have a baby for us, so you must give $50,000 and a car. “$30,000 for the baby, and $20,000 plus the car for me. These are for your future security.” I almost flipped the table right then and there. I quickly excused myself to the restroom. I heard Ryan asking Brenda: “Mom, won’t she agree to such harsh conditions? After all, she’s so amazing; there’s a line of guys who want to marry her.” “Hmph!” Brenda wasn’t scared at all: “If she agreed to let someone else have a baby for you, would she really dare to disagree about giving a little less money? “If she makes a fuss, just tell her you don’t want her. The wedding date is set, the invitations are out. Let’s see if she’s willing to lose face like that. “Son, I’m telling you, respectable people care more about their reputation. If you grasp that, you’ve got her weakness!” I stayed in the restroom for over ten minutes. When I came out, Brenda’s face was flushed. I told them: “I can accept all your conditions. But on one condition: the wedding must be grand. All our relatives, friends, and neighbors must come, or I won’t marry.” On the way back, Ryan updated his post again: 【Guys, my fiancée is unbelievably obedient! Hahaha, she just listens to everything I say. She really loves me too much!】 Those jerks immediately lined up to ask him: 【Seriously, no money at all?】 He quickly replied: 【Hahaha, my mom gave her eight dollars and eighty cents, and she’s even giving us $50,000 and a car as part of her dowry. She actually agreed!】 The jerks groaned enviously: 【Dude, what’s your secret? How did you get her to marry you even with all that?】 【Give me a dozen women like her, please! I’m begging you!】 【Bro, you *have* to share your wisdom! My wedding’s soon, and I don’t want to give my hard-earned money to those gold-digging women.】 Ryan quickly replied to everyone: 【Well, she’s probably after my body, my looks, and my generous assets, hahaha!】 The comment section was filled with countless other disgusting remarks. Truly sickening. I quickly took a screenshot of the link, ready to exit, when I suddenly saw a new comment: 【Something’s off with you and your mom. I bet the other woman having the baby is also fishy. Bro, how many “good sisters” do you actually have?】

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My father and Liam’s mother died in the same bed. They were found with their bodies still entwined. In that single moment, both our worlds shattered. He slammed his car into my father’s casket, sending it flying. I smashed his mother’s urn to pieces on the wind-whipped docks. For ten long years, we’ve hated each other, dedicated to mutual destruction. Now, he’s Southeast Asia’s most powerful arms dealer. And I’m the top bounty hunter in the city. When we met again, his hatred for me burned as bright as ever. He just didn’t know one thing: I was dying. After finishing up today’s work, I rushed back to my dessert shop to bandage my wounds. The TV on the wall was broadcasting the news of Liam Thorne’s return. Once the golden boy of the city’s elite, now Southeast Asia’s biggest arms dealer, his return to Port City was, naturally, a sensation. I hastily wrapped my injuries, ready to head to my small memorial to light a candle for my father. Just then, a girl with a pixie cut burst in, clutching red roses. “I’ll buy all these cakes!” she declared loudly. Trailing behind her was Julian, Liam’s best friend. Seeing me, he looked awkward. “Sera, maybe we should try another shop?” The girl refused stubbornly. “No way! These are Liam’s favorite desserts. It’s his birthday; I need to get him a lot.” Her eyes, red-rimmed, looked at me. “Owner, can I borrow your space to set up a surprise birthday party?” I could only nod. “Can we have some extra desserts?” I agreed, catching sight of my wound bleeding again. I quickly hid it under my apron, my legs trembling as I walked to the back kitchen. It wasn’t fear. It was just my illness flaring up again. An incurable illness. “Julian, help me set up. Liam will be here soon. I don’t want him to be upset.” Julian didn’t move. He knew Liam was never happy when he saw me. On TV, Liam smiled for the cameras, but his eyes were empty. “She’s watching the news too, isn’t she? I’m really looking forward to seeing her.” The camera zoomed in, and the scar above his eyebrow was clearly visible. I put that there with a dagger. The scar on my neck? He gave me that with a piece of broken glass. We always hurt each other, loving to see the other in pain. The TV hostess smiled coyly. “Mr. Thorne, are you planning to stay long-term this time? And those roses – are they for someone special?” He said, his voice deep, “My fiancée.” The girl was still decorating the shop, then she turned to look at the TV. “Julian, I heard Liam has a childhood friend he’s been entangled with for ten years?” I lowered my head, wiping my knife, and caught Julian’s gaze. “Liam!” The girl cried out, breaking the tense atmosphere. She ran out excitedly, forgetting her umbrella. Outside, Liam held her with one arm and an umbrella with the other. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. He seemed to flinch. We stared at each other through the rain-streaked glass. The girl started to turn back, but he gripped her chin and kissed her deeply. I pulled my gaze away, cutting the ribbon in my hand. Julian came over, speaking softly. “Seraphina, please, don’t upset Liam today.” He added, “That girl is only nineteen. She’s so innocent, and she reminds me a bit of you.” I nodded, my fingers cold. “She does look like me. She’s prettier, though.” The door pushed open. Liam walked in, holding his umbrella. “Talking about my fiancée?”

His voice carried a smile, but his eyes were ice-cold as they landed on me. Julian held his breath, staring at me, waiting for me to lose it. I ignored them, simply pushing the cake across. “Here’s your dark chocolate cake. Enjoy.” Summer Reed rested her chin on her hand, gazing at Liam. “Liam, is this your favorite?” He took a sip of coffee, then cut a small piece of cake and tasted it. “Bitter and astringent. Not good.” She lowered her head to taste it herself, doubting if he was playing a trick. She didn’t see him watching me the entire time. The doorbell chimed, and a few men laughed as they burst in. Their smiles froze when they saw me. They looked at Julian warily, like they expected me to throw something drastic at them. We’d tortured each other for years, and we’d “taken care of” his friends too. Guess they remembered it pretty clearly. One of them bumped Julian’s shoulder. “Yo, Julian, what’s going on here?” He didn’t answer. I walked over with some grapefruit tea. All of them immediately raised their hands, as if to ward me off. I turned to leave, but Summer grabbed my arm. “Sera, can you take a picture for us?” “No.” I refused. As I turned, a shadow blocked me. It was Liam, his expression indifferent. “You’re running a business, you haggle. So tell me, how much does it cost to buy you taking our picture?” I didn’t respond, trying to move around him. My arm was seized. I was forced to my knees, and a black card was thrown at my face, leaving a cut. “There’s enough money on this card to buy your life.” I struggled to my feet, touching my swollen face, and stared at him. Summer laughed, trying to smooth things over. “Liam, he’s drunk.” But he didn’t smell of alcohol. He was deliberately picking a fight. I believed her, at least about the “drunk” part. He must have had such a great time overseas that he’d forgotten how vindictive I was. I knelt down, picked up the black card, and stood firm. Someone sneered. “Liam, this woman hasn’t changed. Still bows down for money.” He confidently handed me his phone, as if pleased by my “submission.” I grabbed his chin, smeared a layer of cream from the black card onto his face, and shoved it into his mouth. I didn’t stop until I smelled blood, then I grabbed two glasses of liquor and poured them down his throat. “Dirty mouth. Just cleaning it for you.” I casually slapped the guy who had just spoken. “Filthy dog, shut your trap if you’re not called!” It happened so fast no one reacted, only the rain drumming against the glass. Julian leaned against the wall, drinking, and sighed. “Why’d you have to provoke her?” Summer, enraged, yelled, “Owner, we might be at fault, but you went too far!” She lunged to hit me. I grabbed her wrist and slapped her back. Only her scream echoed in the shop. Liam coughed up blood, a cold laugh on his face. “Hit me, fine. But harming my fiancée is where you cross the line.” He pulled the swollen-faced Summer close. “Want me to trash the place to make you feel better?” Summer nodded, tears welling in her eyes. Black-clad bodyguards stormed in, clubs swinging. Glass shattered, chandeliers exploded. Cold rain and wind poured in, soaking my face. Liam squeezed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You’re not wrong, but I have to give her satisfaction. Think about the compensation, write it down, I’ll take it all.” His gaze was heavy, like he was looking at an old, discarded object. I yanked away from him, coughing violently, and rummaged through the wreckage. A small white pill bottle rolled out. My eyes lit up. He snatched it first, looking at it. “Six tranquilizers at once? You really have a death wish.” He tossed it into the puddle, then embraced Summer and walked away. I knelt by the water, picked up the bottle, and swallowed two pills. The medicine could calm me down and stop the pain. From half a pill to eight, it still couldn’t keep it at bay. The medicine was almost gone, and so was my life.

In three years, my mom had passed away too. I lived a precarious life, having killed people and, in turn, becoming a target. My savings had all gone into this dessert shop. Now it was trashed, and I had no idea where to go. Pain flared, and I lacked the strength to move. I sat in the ruins, letting the night rain soak me. Port City’s newspaper headlines screamed, “Liam, the Golden Boy, Returns for Revenge on Old Love.” By dawn, I was ready to leave. Before I left, I knelt and bowed my head three times towards the wreckage. Liam suddenly appeared, grabbing me and pulling me to my feet with one hand. “A rundown dessert shop, worth all this drama?” I slapped his hand away, stood steady, and delivered three stinging slaps to his face. “My parents’ memorial photos were in there, and they’re gone,” I said calmly. “Of course I’d bow my head.” He licked the corner of his mouth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Three slaps for your mom’s memorial? I think I got the better deal.” I ignored him, my gaze fixed on the ruins. He followed behind me, his words like daggers. “Seraphina Hayes, I’m talking to you.” I paid him no mind, walking towards the exit. He chased after me, blocking my path. “Don’t pretend you don’t care! Your face is as white as paper, and you’re still trying to be tough?” “My old illness has flared up; I look a little worn out.” I forced a smile. “Liam, what do you think you are, that you could affect me?” Deep down, I knew he was back just to cause trouble. If I were healthy, I’d gladly fight him again. But now, just standing there drained all my strength. The hospital smelled of harsh disinfectant. The doctor looked at the scans, his expression grave. “How much medicine was left from last time?” “It’s all gone.” “All gone? Three months’ worth of medication, gone in a week!” The doctor fell silent. I understood-my time was running out. “Do you have any family?” “My parents are both gone. It’s just me.” He rubbed his temples. “It was pretty stable before. Why has it gotten so bad this week?” I glanced at my phone. A news alert popped up-Liam, arm-in-arm with Summer Reed. The person I thought I didn’t care about still hurt me the most. “The situation isn’t optimistic. After stopping the medication, seven days, one month, three months-those are critical periods.” “Keep this bottle with you. Take three pills when the pain is severe, no more than three.” He hadn’t even finished speaking, and I’d already opened the bottle, shaking out pills and swallowing them. How many didn’t matter, as long as it stopped the pain. I crouched in a hospital corner, my back against the cold wall. Freezing until I was hypothermic could numb the pain. Cold sweat drenched my clothes. For ten minutes, the sounds of crying and prayers echoed from the operating room next door. “Mommy, is that sister from the bed next to ours? Should we go say goodbye to her?” “Her illness isn’t getting better, dear. Let’s not disturb her. Poor child, no parents, and no one to see her off in her grave illness.” The little girl looked up. “Someone in this world must care about her, right?” I blinked, my blurry vision focusing on my phone. It was a text from Liam.

Since last night, he’d been relentlessly calling, harassing me for compensation. I thought about it. Maybe no one cared about me, but there was one person who’d collect my body. I dialed that familiar number. The call was answered almost instantly. “Decided what you’re going to compensate me with?” I took a deep breath, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. “If you want compensation, Liam, you can collect my body when I die.” Silence on the other end for three seconds, followed by his sarcastic laugh. “Seraphina, you’re so vicious and stubborn, you usually live forever. But if you really do die first, I promise I’ll give you a grand funeral. The whole Port City will light eternal lamps for you!” Hearing that, I hung up, satisfied. Walking out of the hospital, I saw the mother and daughter at the entrance. The little girl patted her chest, saying innocently and firmly, “Who says no one cares about her? I care about her!” “Alright, let’s go, the bus is coming soon.” Her mom pulled her, hurrying to catch the bus. I walked to the parking garage and started my black sedan. Seeing they hadn’t caught the bus, I spontaneously rolled down the window. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” I dropped them off at the city center. They profusely thanked me as they got out. Just as I was about to leave, an irritating voice rang out. “Well, well, Seraphina doing good deeds? About time you earned some good karma.” Liam and a few of his friends emerged from a club. Summer Reed tightly clutched Liam’s arm, her eyes coldly fixed on me. I didn’t want to get tangled up. I rolled up my window, ready to drive off. Summer quickly walked over, pressing her hand against the car window. A fake smile played on her lips, but her eyes were icy cold. “I just found out about your past relationship with Liam. I hope I didn’t offend you yesterday?” I couldn’t be bothered to deal with her and started to close the window again. She gripped the window frame tightly. “Sis, I have something to give you. Really, no ill intentions.” “Stop talking nonsense. Get lost.” My patience had run out. Summer let go. As I started the car, she pulled a small urn from her bag. “I heard your mom’s memorial was destroyed. I was worried you wouldn’t have anything to remember her by, so I collected some ashes from the ruins this morning.” Her voice was sweet, but her actions were malicious. She reached through the car window and poured the ashes directly onto my driver’s seat. “Oh! Sera, why didn’t you catch it?” She shrieked, stepping back, her face full of innocence and schadenfreude. “You won’t blame me, will you?” I watched her performance, a furious rage boiling within me, temporarily overriding the pain of my illness. Good. Very good. She sought me out. The people nearby, still clueless, praised her. “You’re so thoughtful, not minding the bad luck, even bringing a gift.” Summer confidently turned, walking towards the brand-new Porsche in front of me, proudly jingling the keys. I rolled down my window and called out to her, “Summer Reed, I have a gift for you too!” She crossed her arms, asking casually, “What are you going to give me?” I fastened my seatbelt, my eyes locked on her, saying each word distinctly. “I’m going to send you to hell!” My words hadn’t even fully faded when I slammed the accelerator.

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After my failed confession to Liam, the Miller family shipped me abroad. The day I returned, the entire family feared I’d seek him out again. Even Liam himself declared, “My biggest stain in this life is being liked by my adopted sister.” To keep me away, they introduced Liam to many girls. Liam welcomed them all, casually wrapping his arm around their waists and telling others, “If Elara can put away her inappropriate feelings, I wouldn’t mind her coming back.” He seemed to believe I was still hung up on him. But this time, I had returned for one reason only: To marry someone else. The air solidified the moment I appeared at the private room entrance. Liam had just rejected a girl who, having lost a dare, wanted to give him a kiss. He leaned back on the couch, languid and self-satisfied. Until someone finally blurted out – “Holy crap, Elara’s back!” Everyone snapped out of it, stepping forward in unison to shield Liam behind them, just like years ago. They gave me awkward smiles. “When did you get back, Elara? You should have told us! We would’ve picked you up!” “How did you find this place yourself? Have you eaten? Want to come in for some snacks…” I stood still, glanced at the room number, and smiled faintly. “No thanks, I must have the wrong place.” The few people blocking the door visibly relaxed. Just as they were about to say more, a scoff came from inside. Liam reached out, wrapped an arm around the waist of the teary-eyed girl in front of him, and pulled her into his embrace. He cupped her chin and kissed her. “Breathe. “A girl shouldn’t have to initiate a kiss like that.” His voice was lazy, and the girl in his arms blushed furiously from his kiss. She clutched his collar, trembling and nervous. “Liam, c-can I be your girlfriend…?” Liam didn’t say anything. He merely glanced at me dismissively, then deepened the kiss. His actions spoke volumes. The girl was thrilled, and everyone else in the room cheered. I checked the time on my wrist, turned to leave, but someone called out from behind me. “Elara.”

I instinctively turned back. Liam stepped out of the private room. Three years apart, his face hadn’t changed at all. He held a cigarette between his fingers, his tone flat. “When did you get back?” “Yesterday.” “Why didn’t you go home?” I stayed silent. “Don’t wander off now that you’re back. Go home and see Mom and Dad.” Still, I didn’t respond. Instead, I looked down at my watch, a flicker of impatience crossing my features. “Is there anything else?” Liam’s gaze fell on my wrist, and he frowned slightly. “Where’s the bracelet?” I paused, surprised. Then something clicked. A hint of sarcasm touched my face. “I put it away.” Three years ago, when a guy confessed to me, Liam didn’t say anything. He just led his friends to beat the guy up. Afterward, he silently took out the Miller family’s heirloom bracelet and put it on my wrist. Liam’s tightly furrowed brow relaxed, his tone calm. “It’s just a small trinket, no need to be so precious with it. “Next time…” “Liam!” Liam’s words were cut off by a clear voice from the side. The girl from the private room ran out. She took Liam’s arm, then extended her hand to me, a radiant smile on her face. “You must be Elara, right? Hi, I’m Scarlett. You can call me Scarlett, or you can call me… sister-in-law.” She seemed a little shy, glancing up at Liam bashfully when she said the last two words. My time was genuinely running out. If I was any later, that man would truly be angry. I didn’t have time to be part of these two’s little drama. I quickly nodded at her and greeted, “Hi.” Then I turned and hurried past, walking quickly towards the end of the hall. Before I reached the corner, I saw Julian Sterling leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in black, his nose bridge sharp, his eyes hidden in the dim light, making his emotions unreadable. His thin lips, caught in the light, were perfectly sculpted and sharp. I quickened my pace towards him. Taking the gift from my pocket, I held it out. “Happy birthday!” His gaze slowly drifted downwards. “You’re late.” I looked at my watch. The hour hand already pointed to midnight. Today was over. A flicker of annoyance crossed my face. If it weren’t for those two I just ran into, I wouldn’t have missed it. Julian wrapped an arm around my waist. Pulling me closer with a sense of punishment. My flight was originally scheduled for nine in the morning, meaning I could be back to have lunch with Julian. But something unexpected came up at my university, delaying me until I rushed back late in the evening. I’d promised to have dinner with him, but then I ran into more trouble. It had been a chaotic mess until now.

The food had gone cold. But the temperature in the air steadily rose. He suppressed the emotions in his eyes, lifted me into his arms, and carried me out of the private room. It was a bit cool outside. Julian hooked the jacket off the couch and placed it over my head. The scent of cedar wood filled my nostrils, stirring my heart. A low-profile yet luxurious Maybach was parked by the road. Just as we were about to reach it, a surprised and familiar voice rang out. “Julian, when did you get back?” Not far away, Liam, with Scarlett’s arm around his waist, walked towards us. His tone was full of surprise, and even through the jacket covering me, I could feel his scrutinizing gaze. Julian merely glanced at him. “Just got back.” Liam teased, “My man, are you finally settling down? Let me see who this mysterious woman is.” With that, Liam stepped forward, reaching out to pull the jacket from my head. I instinctively tightened my grip on Julian’s collar, burying my face in his shoulder. Liam’s hand didn’t touch Julian’s jacket. Julian simply looked at him, and Liam eventually pulled his hand back. “Alright, alright. You’re guarding her so fiercely, I won’t interrupt your moment. Just remember to bring her out to meet us next time.” Julian didn’t say anything, carrying me into the back seat of the car. Julian Sterling was one of the most influential scions in The City. And Liam’s best friend. I used to often see Julian and Liam at the Miller’s house. Though they were best friends, for some reason, even back then, I always felt Julian treated Liam with a subtle distance. Later, I understood. His intentions were never truly about Liam. The day after my failed confession to Liam, the day the Miller family sent me abroad, Julian followed me.

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My husband died suddenly, and then his visibly pregnant first love showed up with his will, ready to claim her inheritance. My daughter wanted me to stand my ground, to fight that homewrecker tooth and nail! But my in-laws told me, “Just let her have it. After all, she’s carrying our family’s bloodline. Even though our son wronged you, our family can’t be without an heir.” I nodded, agreeing to my in-laws’ demand. Ignoring my daughter’s furious objections, I took her and moved abroad. When my daughter fumed at my apparent weakness, I stayed silent. But when I received that familiar call, I smiled with satisfaction… Julian’s funeral drew a sizable crowd. Besides his family and friends, there were also many of his colleagues and business partners. When they saw Luna, Julian’s first love, show up visibly pregnant, clutching a will, their faces flickered with a myriad of expressions – it was quite a show. Many of them discreetly watched me, silent, seemingly waiting to see my reaction. It looked like everyone was ready for some drama. “Sarah, I know Julian and I both wronged you, but… I’m carrying his child. I have to live for this baby, right? I know what I did wasn’t right, but this is the last gift Julian left for me and our child. You can’t be so cruel as to strip us of our rights, can you?” “Ugh! You utterly shameless witch! You secretly hooked up with my dad behind my mom’s back! And now you have the nerve to show up pregnant, demanding an inheritance? I’ve never seen anyone as brazen as you!” My daughter, Mia, screamed at Luna. Her face was crimson with fury, veins throbbing in her neck, as if she wanted to tear Luna limb from limb. “Mia! Do you have no manners? I don’t remember your mother raising you to be such a wild banshee!” It was Mrs. Davies, my mother-in-law, who spoke. She shot me a glare. “How have you been raising this child?” “She ruined my parents’ relationship, she came between my mom and dad. If you won’t help my mom, fine, but now you’re siding with an outsider to accuse Mom and me? What do we even mean to you?!” Mia, usually so compliant, transformed. She shielded me like a mama bear protecting her cub, which touched me deeply, though it also filled me with shame. Mrs. Davies was stunned by Mia’s outburst, then her expression turned to anger. “This is outrageous! This little girl is starting to lecture her elders?! The adults in this family are still alive; it’s not your place to speak, young lady!” She turned back to me. “I always said daughters were useless!” Mr. Davies, my father-in-law, stepped forward. “This is adult business, Mia! Don’t you dare interrupt! If you don’t behave, don’t blame me for getting rough with you!” He finished, giving Mia a harsh glare. Mr. Davies then looked at Luna, then back at me. “Sarah, I know you’ve been married into our family for thirteen years. We’ve seen your character, and we’ve always treated you as one of our own. I hope you can consider our feelings now.” Listening to Mr. Davies, I calmly asked, “What do you mean?” “It’s just…” Mr. Davies hesitated, then continued, “Luna told us the baby is a boy. Our family has only ever had one son per generation, and we truly hope she gives birth. But now Julian is gone, and it will be difficult for Luna to raise a child alone. We hope you won’t contest the inheritance with her.”

Mrs. Davies chimed in, “Just let her have it. After all, she’s carrying our family’s bloodline. Even though our son wronged you, our family can’t be without an heir.” My daughter blurted out before I could speak, “Then am I not Dad’s child? Am I not? In your eyes, what am I?” Her eyes reddened as she looked at my in-laws, her voice trembling. I knew my in-laws didn’t truly value my daughter, but I never imagined they’d say something like this to her face. I realized then that their previous displays of affection for her had all been an act; in reality, they still saw no worth in their granddaughter. Hearing Mia’s words, Mrs. Davies dropped all pretense. “I never said you weren’t, but… you’re a girl. How can a girl carry on our family name? After all your father did for you, and you can’t even think of him? You’re so ungrateful!” Mr. Davies sternly said, “We’re talking to your mother now, young lady, don’t interrupt!” He then looked at me. “Sarah, for the sake of our years as a family, I hope you can understand us!” I looked at them, calmly stating, “So, you knew about Julian and Luna all along?” My words caught both my in-laws off guard. Embarrassed expressions crossed their faces as they exchanged uneasy glances. Seeing this, my daughter’s face twisted in disgust. “I used to respect you so much, and you always talked about decency and self-respect. I can’t believe… I can’t believe… you’re just as shameless!” “What did you say, you rotten girl?! Are you looking for a fight?!” Mrs. Davies lunged forward, trying to hit Mia, but I quickly shielded my daughter behind me. “Why are you hitting her? Was she wrong?” I asked, my voice chilling as I stared at Mrs. Davies. Mrs. Davies looked at me, then at Mia, who was safely behind me. She sneered. “Fine, fine, you two! Just because my son isn’t here, you think you can disrespect your elders, ignore me completely, is that it?” Mrs. Davies then dramatically collapsed in front of Julian’s memorial picture. “Julian, you left us too soon! Your wife and daughter are ganging up on us two old people now! They won’t listen to a word we say, and they even accuse us! All we want is for Luna to give us your heir. Why… why won’t they understand our elderly wish?” The friends and relatives sitting nearby watched Mrs. Davies’ hysterical wailing. Some looked on with disdain, others nodded in agreement, and a few, seemingly not finding enough drama, pulled out their phones to record. Mrs. Davies’ heartbroken wails sounded utterly pathetic, and Mr. Davies seized the opportunity to approach me. He said earnestly, “Sarah, I know our family has wronged you, but… we truly want to have an heir for the Davies family. And we also need Julian’s inheritance to raise the child. We hope you can agree.” “Mom! Don’t listen to them!” Mia gripped my hand tightly, as if encouraging me. Seeing my daughter trying so hard to protect me, tears welled up uncontrollably in my eyes. I reached out and stroked her hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Let Mom make the decision. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Hearing my words, my daughter nodded obediently. I looked at my in-laws, then at Luna. “You want the company Julian left behind?” Mrs. Davies spoke up. “Luna used to work there, she naturally knows how to manage the company. To put it bluntly, even if you founded the company with Julian, didn’t you withdraw after you got married? This company… in fact, it’s my son’s personal property.” I stared at her. “You even know that? So, you’ve known about her relationship with your son all along? You and Julian conspired to keep it from me? Oh, and why didn’t you mention Julian also owns a house? Though, it’s registered under your names, so I suppose you had that planned out too, didn’t you?” Hearing my words, Mrs. Davies coughed awkwardly and said no more. Luna guiltily averted her gaze and gestured to the lawyer beside her. “You go talk to her.” The lawyer’s eyes also flickered with a hint of embarrassment, but he still braced himself and walked over. “If you voluntarily give up your claim, you can sign a voluntary waiver here, agreeing not to pursue further action.” I looked at them, then nodded. “Alright, if that’s what you want, then I agree!” “Mom!!!” My daughter stared at me in disbelief, and the surrounding onlookers also showed surprised expressions. My in-laws’ faces lit up with joy at my reaction. Mrs. Davies beamed, “Really?! You said it, no backing out now!” Luna and her lawyer also looked surprised, then wary, as if afraid I might retaliate. Luna looked at me. “What are your conditions?” Hearing her speak, I nodded. “Of course, I have conditions. From now on, I will have no further ties with the Davies family. Don’t ever contact us again.” I looked at my daughter, asking for her consent. “You’ll live with Mom, won’t you? Is that okay?” My daughter looked at me with a mix of frustration and anger, as if hating my weakness. She said, heartbroken and furious, “Mom, I’ll live with you, but… but… Dad’s money shouldn’t go to that witch! Mom, please don’t be so weak! Pull yourself together! Even if we have to live on scraps, I don’t want them to have an easy life! If we go down, we all go down together!” My daughter’s words once again infuriated Mrs. Davies. “You deadbeat girl, try saying that again! I told you girls are useless, just look at them, only brave when they’re attacking their own family!” Looking at my daughter, I remembered my younger self, kind and impulsive, never keeping anything bottled up. My heart swelled with both comfort and regret. “Sweetie, please, do this for Mom, okay? Your dad stopped loving us a long time ago. He even schemed to leave his property to his first love, regardless of what happened to us… and your grandparents are no different. So, why should we cling to your dad’s inheritance?” My daughter looked at me with tear-filled eyes. “Mom, even if you think Dad’s money is tainted, let’s donate it rather than leave it for that witch! Don’t be so foolish, please!” “You deadbeat girl!” Mr. Davies, enraged, raised his cane to hit my daughter, but I blocked him. Crack! The cane struck my arm with such force that I winced in pain. It seemed Mr. Davies wasn’t holding back, even on his granddaughter.

“You…” Mr. Davies stared at me in shock. “You’ve hit me, you’ve cursed me. Isn’t it just Julian’s company you want? I’m letting you have it, isn’t that enough?” I choked out, “Julian betrayed me, and you all conspired with him to keep it from me. Now Julian is ‘dead,’ and you’re ganging up on my daughter and me… Isn’t giving up enough?” I looked at the visibly troubled lawyer. “I will sign the agreement.” Then I turned to the surrounding friends and relatives, and those holding up phones to record. “You all can be my witnesses here. From now on, I have no relationship with the Davies family, and neither does my child. The responsibility of caring for my in-laws will fall to Luna from now on.” Luna’s face flashed with a hint of embarrassment when she heard my words, but she dared not speak. My in-laws, on the other hand, watched eagerly as I signed the agreement. A young onlooker couldn’t stand it anymore. “Sarah, why put yourself through this?” “Yeah, why be so foolish? Isn’t this just benefiting someone else?” “Exactly! Even if not for yourself, at least think of your child.” “Forget it, just look at how those old folks have been treating her!” My daughter couldn’t help but tug my hand, crying, “Mom, can’t you stop being so silly? Isn’t this just making it easy for them?” I stroked her forehead. “Honey, we’re cutting ties with them. From now on, it’s as if we have no grandparents. If you still love Mom, then do this for Mom. Cut them off, and don’t get entangled with them anymore!” Hearing this, my daughter didn’t speak but glared angrily at Luna and the Davies. After signing the agreement, I took my daughter and left. Even though she was extremely unwilling, I practically dragged her away. Some busybodies had already filmed the scene and uploaded it online. Many netizens expressed outrage on my behalf, and some legal professionals offered to help me fight for my rights. However, many others were furious at my apparent weakness, calling me a naive pushover, saying I was a saint for enabling the mistress, and destroying my and my daughter’s interests. They accused me of not being fit to be a mother. Some even used me as a cautionary tale, making videos about my story to gain views. Luna and Julian’s parents didn’t fare much better. They were also cyberbullied by outraged netizens, condemned as shameless people with no morals. I was aware of the online buzz, and my daughter argued with me about it for a long time. Facing netizens’ mockery, sarcasm, or well-intentioned advice, I decided to respond. I recorded a video explaining that I had decided to move abroad and that everyone should live their own lives in peace. Of course, this “saintly” approach, as I expected, once again provoked netizens’ mockery. Although my daughter was very reluctant, she eventually compromised and moved abroad with me. As time passed, her initial dissatisfaction with me gradually turned into reconciliation. With the help of my brother, David, who owned a company overseas, I registered my own company, bought a small apartment, and started a new life. Everything progressed smoothly and methodically; life became relatively easy. Until one day, someone called me, shattering the peace— “You damn bitch! How dare you pull a stunt like this on me!!!” A familiar voice roared hysterically from the other end of the line, as if he wanted to reach through the phone and strangle me. Hearing that voice, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re not dead, are you? How are you able to call me? What a miracle!”

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I was willing to throw myself from a building to escape my own wedding. Yet my fiancée was the one I had secretly loved for years. I had been reborn. In my previous life, we were married for over twenty years. Everyone saw us as the perfect couple. Then, on our anniversary, the illusion shattered. She took her own life in a final, tragic pact with her “soulmate,” Ryan. Standing before her grave, I whispered. “Did you regret marrying me?” Silence. So I answered for her. “I regretted it.” When I woke up again, I was back before our wedding. I decided to run. This time, we would be strangers. But she found me anyway, her face pale and desperate. And what she said shattered everything. “I never regretted marrying you, not in this life, not in the last. You were the only one I ever wanted.” … My eyes fluttered open. Someone patted my shoulder. In a daze, I saw the grand doors swing open. Chloe, who had died ten years ago, stood on the stage in her wedding gown. Bathed in light, she looked ethereal, like an angel descended from heaven. A collective gasp of awe rippled through the audience, a sound even the music couldn’t drown out. Everyone was praising the bride’s beauty. But I was drenched in a cold sweat. Someone nudged me, reminding me it was time to walk towards the bride. I had specifically requested this part of the ceremony myself. But now, as my gaze met Chloe’s from across the hall, she curved her lips into a smile. My resolve, however, only hardened. I spun around and bolted for the exit. “The wedding is off! I’m absolutely not marrying her!” The venue erupted into instant chaos. The hotel was huge, and in my panic, I couldn’t find the right way out. Chloe’s relatives and friends started chasing me. My future father-in-law’s face was stormy. He frowned, glaring at me with displeasure. “Liam, the wedding has started. Don’t be foolish. Get back there and finish the ceremony.” I shook my head, firm. I never imagined I would be reborn, especially not right into my own wedding with Chloe. But since fate had given me a second chance, there was no way I would marry Chloe in this life. A relative tried to reason with me, their voice filled with concern: “Whatever it is, talk about it after the wedding. Chloe is waiting for you.” What? Chloe waiting for me! Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a white figure actually chasing after me. It felt like a death knell. Without another moment of hesitation, I pushed open a nearby window. I jumped straight from the third floor. Luckily, there was an awning below that broke my fall. Even so, when I stood up, I felt a biting pain. But this slight ache was nothing compared to the heartbreak of the twenty years she’d fooled me in my past life. Clutching my waist, I limped away, desperate to leave. People from the hotel peered out the windows, their faces aghast. “Liam, you’re insane! You actually ran away from your own wedding!” Chloe was among them, her face etched with anxiety and unease. “Liam, what are you doing…? If you leave, what about our wedding?” The Liam of my past life would never have done such a thing. But now. “Chloe, marrying you was the biggest mistake I ever made. I’m correcting that mistake.” “Remember this: I’m the one who doesn’t want you.” I didn’t bother to look at Chloe’s reaction. I hailed a taxi and drove off, feeling a twisted sense of triumph. I knew better than anyone that Chloe’s pristine white wedding dress wasn’t meant for me. She never wanted to marry me at all. Memories flooded my mind. I still remembered rushing to the police station. The officer asked me: “Do you have any information about the man, Ryan, who committed suicide with your wife, Chloe?” How lost and helpless I had been then. I spent over two decades in my last life failing to truly see that woman. This life, I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake.

To escape the commotion, I conveniently used my injuries as an excuse to check into a hospital. My phone was constantly ringing with calls-I knew they weren’t checking in on me; they were either looking for drama or ready to chew me out. The messages proved it. “Liam Thompson, how dare you treat Chloe like that! She cried herself unconscious! You need to get over here and apologize now!” I couldn’t have cared less. Chloe crying over me running away? Impossible. She was probably thrilled I was gone. In this life, she and that Ryan finally had their chance to be together. They should be thanking me, honestly. If you ask me, they owed me a massive thank you. Just as I was lost in this fantasy, my hospital room door swung open. My mom and dad stood there, both furious. “Liam Thompson, you’ve really got some nerve! Running away from your wedding, jumping out of a window? Who are you trying to make a fool of?!” I hadn’t expected them to track me down so quickly. I instantly felt like shrinking into the bed, quickly begging for mercy. “Stop yelling, I’m in the hospital already.” I pitifully revealed my bandaged arm, hoping to stir some parental love. But they just scoffed. “Your injuries are your own fault. Chloe is also in the hospital because of you. You need to take responsibility.” Only then did I understand why they’d arrived so fast. Wow, Chloe’s acting was truly next level. This way, no one would suspect she didn’t want the wedding either. Then I heard my parents issue a direct order: “As soon as you’re discharged, you’re having the wedding with Chloe again.” “No way.” My firm refusal left my parents momentarily bewildered. After all, my marriage to Chloe had been largely my doing. I transferred to Chloe’s school in senior year, fell for her at first sight, and spent five years secretly crushing on her. It wasn’t until her family’s company faced a crisis that the Millers approached my parents, proposing an alliance between our families. At the time, I was overjoyed by the news and worked hard to convince my parents to agree. Now, though, I was a completely different person. They couldn’t accept it. “Why?” The question came from a female voice. My parents quickly stepped aside, revealing Chloe. She had changed out of her wedding dress and into a hospital gown. Her figure was already slender, but now she looked especially frail, as if a gust of wind could carry her away. She swayed, a fleeting pang of tenderness and sadness piercing my heart for a split second. Her eyes were fixed on me as she asked again: “Why won’t you marry me?” I frowned, my heart still hard. “Because I don’t love you anymore.” At my words, Chloe’s body seemed to lose all support. She collapsed weakly, passing out cold. My parents shot me a fierce glare, then rushed to help the nurse get Chloe back to her room. For a moment, I considered following them, but I resisted. Still, I couldn’t shake the thought: when did Chloe become so fragile? Was she acting? For the next few days, my parents were furious with me and didn’t visit again. My friend came to see me, giving me a thumbs-up. “You’re something else, Liam. You really pissed Chloe off. I thought you were crazy about her, chased her forever. Why give up now, right before the wedding?” I waved him off. “Too easy. Lost interest.” “Then, it’s my turn to chase you now.” I looked up. Chloe, just discharged, stood smiling at my doorway. “I don’t want to see you.” I didn’t hold back, practically kicking her out. She didn’t seem offended. She walked in, carrying a thermos, and started pouring soup for me. “I made you some bone broth. Drink it while it’s hot.” My friend, sensing the awkward atmosphere, quickly made his escape. Leaving me alone with Chloe. I kept a stony face. Chloe brought the bowl closer to me, coaxing me like a child: “Smell it. It’s delicious.” A familiar aroma wafted into my nostrils. In my previous life, Chloe and I had been married for over twenty years, the ‘model couple’ in everyone’s eyes. Even I thought so. She was meticulous in everything she did, though she often missed holidays and anniversaries due to work. But she’d always apologize and prepare gifts-without fail, things I liked or had mentioned offhand. Chloe, a pampered girl who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen, had even learned to cook. When she was home, she’d make the meals herself. She said she worried about my sensitive stomach, so she’d specifically learned to make all kinds of soups. This bone broth was my favorite. I once believed this was a sign of her love for me, but later, I learned the truth. The thought made the soup lose its appeal. I turned my head away. “I don’t want it, and I don’t want to see you. Just leave.” Chloe bit her lip, trembling slightly. After a long moment, she managed a faint, strained smile. “You don’t have an appetite now. I’ll put it aside. Remember to drink it when you’re hungry.” I didn’t want to hear her speak, so I pulled the blanket over my head. Chloe didn’t leave for a while; I heard her tidying up outside. Only when the door clicked shut did I peek out. The room had been cleaned by Chloe. She’d even placed a bouquet of fresh flowers where I could see them the moment I looked up. I scoffed. “What an actress.”

For the next few days, Chloe reported punctually every morning, noon, and night, bringing carefully prepared meals. I never touched them, though. I ignored her. She would tidy up the hospital room, making it feel cozy and home-like, even subtly mirroring how our room used to be in my past life. This only made me feel more uncomfortable. As soon as Chloe left, I checked myself out of the hospital. Time to go home! But I was too optimistic. I had barely stepped through my front door when Chloe showed up at my house. She doted on my parents, eagerly offering them shoulder rubs. “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, if your shoulders are sore, I can always come over and massage them for you.” My parents glanced at me as I came downstairs, then called out: “Liam, you just got out of the hospital. Why don’t you let her give you a massage first?” Chloe immediately looked at me, her eyes seemingly filled with anticipation. There was no mistaking it. My parents had completely sided with her. I could understand why my parents were suddenly so fond of Chloe. Before I knew her true face, I, too, was fooled by her gentle thoughtfulness. But what exactly was Chloe after? I slapped my forehead in annoyance as it suddenly clicked: the Miller family’s company was facing a funding crisis, which was why they sought a marriage alliance. Chloe was probably afraid my family wouldn’t help. She worried for nothing. In my past life, after the Millers overcame their crisis, their company indeed flourished. It was a completely sound investment. With that understanding, my gaze toward Chloe softened considerably, becoming more like an evaluation of an investment target. My parents, seeing my attitude had relaxed, quickly nudged Chloe towards me. Chloe lost her balance, stumbling towards me like a feather. I instinctively caught her, only to realize how alarmingly thin she was beneath her clothes. She felt weightless, like she was nothing but bones, as if she might break if I squeezed too hard. My brow furrowed. Her eyes met mine, her face flushed with embarrassment, filled with what looked like pure joy. But I felt only irritation and pushed her away, somewhat roughly. Chloe swayed for a moment before steadying herself, but she still looked delighted. Even my parents gave me knowing looks, as if my resistance was just a childish display of defiance. I couldn’t stay in this house. “I have plans. I won’t be home tonight.” I grabbed my phone and walked straight out. Chloe, ever persistent, jogged after me. Everywhere I went, she followed. When I headed to my car, she even tried to open the passenger door. I snapped, losing my patience: “Stop it! Can you just leave me alone?” My voice was sharper than I intended. Chloe seemed startled, freezing in place, her shoulders involuntarily trembling. Seeing her so fragile only agitated me more: “I know you want my family’s money. Don’t worry. Even without marriage, I’ll invest. Are you satisfied? If so, just leave.” Seeing no reaction from her, I slammed the accelerator and drove off. Inside the bar’s VIP room, acquaintances-some not even close friends-were all discussing my exploits. “Liam, you’re a legend! Dumped the school queen you chased forever, just ran from the wedding!” “I knew it, our Liam isn’t some desperate lovesick puppy. It was all an act to reel Chloe in. She totally lost face this time.” “Serves her right, honestly. All high-and-mighty before, looking down on us party-goers. Now she’s the one being played.” Listening to their snide remarks, I realized my runaway wedding had made Chloe the laughingstock of our social circle. Her former ‘school queen’ glamour was shattered, and now she was fair game for anyone to mock. But I didn’t want to engage in their gossip. I just kept drinking.

I stumbled home in the morning, my head still hazy. My parents sat on the sofa, waiting for me, their faces grim. “You’re getting worse, staying out drinking all night. Chloe is such a good girl, and you just tossed her aside. You were the one who insisted on marrying her!” “You are going to give me a reason today, or else.” At my parents’ words, my drunken haze began to clear. They were right. I had been the one to push for it. It took living a lifetime of pain to understand that a forced relationship never ends well. … My memory flashed back to the day I heard about Chloe’s death. It was our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. The day before, I had, for once, stood my ground with Chloe. Not for anything else, but to make her come home and spend our anniversary with me. Because that day also marked thirty years since I first fell in love with her. “If you don’t come back, we should just get a divorce.” That’s what I said then. But such a threat must have seemed laughable in Chloe’s eyes. That evening, I waited for her at the restaurant, full of anticipation, only to receive the news of Chloe’s death. I hung up the phone and rushed to the police station like a madman. “Are you Chloe Miller’s husband?” The officer confirmed my identity, his eyes filled with sympathy. They told me Chloe had committed suicide, and that she had done so with another man named Ryan, suspected to be a tragic lovers’ pact. “Do you have any information about Ryan?” It was the first time I had ever heard that unfamiliar name. I shook my head, bewildered. I found out who Ryan was at Chloe’s funeral. Her best friend cried inconsolably over her coffin. “If I had known you loved Ryan, I would have stopped you from marrying Liam, even if it killed me.” That’s when I learned Ryan was Chloe’s university senior. All those years, they had never truly broken off contact. All the holidays and annivers Chloe missed? She had spent them with Ryan. Eventually, only I remained at the funeral. I stood before Chloe’s tombstone, murmuring to myself. “Chloe, did you regret marrying me?” The tombstone wouldn’t answer, but I knew the truth. “I regretted marrying you too. If I had another chance, I would never have gotten involved with you again.” With that thought, my eyes cleared, and I looked at my parents with newfound resolve. “I just can’t go through with this marriage. I can’t tell you why. But I will help the Miller family.” My mom finally sighed. “You’ll regret this. Fine, we won’t interfere anymore. Do whatever you want.” I went back to bed and slept for what felt like an eternity. Once my mind finally felt clear, I texted Chloe to meet me at my office. Chloe arrived quickly, dressed with care. Her hair was styled in soft waves, and she wore a white dress, as if heading to a date. “Liam, you haven’t asked me out in ages.” Her face held the shy, delicate charm of a young girl in love, her lips pursed in a demure smile. I tossed a contract onto the table and spoke in a purely business-like tone. “I know the Miller family needs sixty million in funding. Sign this contract, and I’ll give you what you want. But after this, you must never come looking for me again.” Chloe stared down, no reaction. I urged her. “Hurry up. I’m giving you what you want, don’t get greedy.” At my words, Chloe looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. She bit her lip, throwing the contract back at me. Then she rushed to my side, grabbing my shirt, demanding I look deeply into her eyes. “Liam Thompson, I’m not asking for an investment at all. I’ve only ever wanted you. Haven’t I made that obvious enough?” Large tears streamed down her face. She pounded my chest with her fists, but it didn’t hurt at all. “We were married for over twenty years. Now you’ve been reborn, and you’re treating your wife like this? You weren’t like this in the last life…”

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Ten years ago, I saved a drowning boy. He fixed me with an unsettling gaze and declared, “I’m going to marry you.” I laughed it off. Ten years later, that boy had become an obsessive CEO. He crashed my wedding with an army of men. They broke my fiancé, shattering his legs before dragging me away.  “I told you I’d marry you,” he whispered, his voice a deadly promise. “I am the only man you will ever call husband.” He held my family’s lives over my head and forced me into a marriage. He locked me in a private villa and forbade any contact with men. He tried everything to make me love him. I never did. Furious and humiliated, he found a stand-in whose face perfectly mimicked mine. Drunk on his favor, she invaded my villa with her guards. “You surgical imitation! How dare you wear my face to seduce my man? I’ll destroy you!” She ripped me, cut out my tongue and ordered her guards to violate me, to break me completely. By the time the CEO finally arrived, I was already gone. The substitute presented my corpse to him as a trophy. “Look, baby! I took care of this surgical freak who was lurking here, trying to tempt you!”

Tristan Blackwood was both devoted and insane. He said from the moment I saved him, he decided he would marry no one but me. To win my heart, he imprisoned me for three years. Every day he tried new ways to please me. But I didn’t love him. I could never accept him. Recently though, he found a substitute who resembled me. They’d been all over each other for months now. To provoke me, Tristan often sent me videos of their intimate moments. I was sitting in the courtyard, watching one of their videos, when suddenly a commotion erupted outside. “Tristan comes here every other day. Today I’m going to see what treasure he’s hiding in this villa!” “But didn’t Mr. Blackwood say this villa is his private sanctuary? No one’s allowed inside.” “Yeah, Melody. I heard someone just looked inside once and Mr. Blackwood broke their limbs and gouged out their eyes. Isn’t it bad if we sneak in without his permission?” “What are you afraid of? Tristan adores me. He’d never blame me.” Hearing the noise outside, I frowned. An ominous feeling washed over me. I knew better than anyone how crazy Tristan could be. He was extremely possessive. He treated me like his property and kept me imprisoned in this villa. Once, someone got curious and snuck into the villa to catch a glimpse of me. Tristan broke their arms and legs, gouged out their eyes, and the next day they vanished without a trace. At first, he was only jealous of men. But then he noticed I treated the housekeepers more gently than I treated him. In a fit of rage, he fired all the housekeepers. He’d rather bring me three meals a day himself than let anyone else look at me for more than a second. If those people outside came in, they’d be in serious trouble. I quickly stood up, wanting to warn them to leave immediately. But the moment I opened the door, a face ninety percent identical to mine appeared before my eyes. Before I could speak, she slapped me hard across the face. “Where did you come from, you bitch? How dare you get surgery to look like me and hide in Tristan’s villa? Are you trying to steal my man?”

The sudden slap made my face burn with pain. “You cheap plastic surgery freak! Do you know where you are? How dare you barge in here?” “You deliberately got surgery to look like Melody to seduce Mr. Blackwood. You’re so desperate to climb the social ladder, you’ve lost all shame!” Only then did I realize who this person was. The woman who burst in and hit me was Tristan’s substitute-Melody Winters. Because of Tristan’s pathological need for control, I’d always been cold toward him. Even though I was forced to marry him, I remained distant. I never let him touch me even once. Perhaps to spite me, or maybe to fill the void in his heart, he searched everywhere for someone who resembled me. And Melody was the substitute he found. The one who looked most like me. Right now, Melody’s face was filled with rage. Her eyes could shoot flames. “You bitch! You know Tristan loves me madly, so you went through all that surgery to look like me. You want to be my substitute and take my place, don’t you?” Melody was arrogant and vicious. But considering she didn’t know the truth, I decided not to hold this slap against her. Instead, I tried to warn her kindly. “This isn’t a place you should be. Leave now, before Tristan gets here. Otherwise, no one can help you.” However, Melody showed no appreciation. Instead, she grabbed my hair and snarled, “Tristan is MY man. What place of his can’t I go? You’re just pretending to send me away because you’re afraid I’ll ruin your scheme. Afraid you won’t even get to be the mistress, right?” “Today I’ll show you what happens when you try to steal my man!” With that, Melody kicked me to the ground. I stumbled and hit a rock. My forehead split open instantly. I touched the blood on my forehead and looked at the aggressive Melody. My voice turned cold. “Aren’t you afraid of what Tristan will do when he finds out?” Melody snorted disdainfully. “I’m the destined soulmate Tristan has been searching for all this time. If my face gets even slightly scratched, he can’t sleep for days. So what if he finds out? Would he blame me because of an insignificant bitch like you?” Melody’s friends laughed coldly in agreement. “Exactly. Everyone knows Mr. Blackwood fell for Melody at first sight. You’re just a plastic surgery copycat. How dare you compare yourself to her?” “Melody, Mr. Blackwood is so powerful. There must be plenty of vixens like this one trying to seduce him. Let’s make an example out of her today and crush those scheming sluts’ fantasies!” “Right! Let those bitches know who Mr. Blackwood’s real wife is!” These women were all vicious with their words and looks, as if they wanted to tear me apart. My expression grew serious. I spoke coldly. “You’d better go ask Tristan who I really am.” Melody lifted her chin, full of disdain. “You’re just a plastic surgery freak who snuck into the villa. Why would I bother finding out who you are?” “I’m the woman Tristan treasures most. My family, the Winters, is the Blackwood family’s biggest business partner. What are you compared to me? How dare you compare status with me?” Her eyes turned vicious. She ordered her friends behind her, “Strip this bitch naked. I want to see if she had surgery on her body to match mine too.” Immediately, her friends rushed over and violently tore at my clothes. I desperately tried to protect my clothing while shouting, “Stop! I’m Tristan’s wife!”

Hearing my words, everyone froze. Melody stood to the side, narrowing her eyes at me. “You’re saying you’re Tristan’s wife?” I said seriously, “That’s right. You’re just the substitute he found. If he finds out you hurt me like this, he’ll never forgive you.” I revealed the truth, thinking Melody would back down. But instead, they all burst into laughter at the same moment. “This bitch has lost her mind trying to climb the ladder!” “Just because she looks somewhat like Melody, she dares to twist the truth and call OUR Melody her substitute?” “Everyone knows Mr. Blackwood takes Melody everywhere. You snuck in here, you plastic surgery freak, and you dare call yourself his wife?” Melody smiled with sinister amusement. “I thought you’d have some tricks up your sleeve since you managed to get surgery to look like me and seduce Tristan. Turns out you’re just a brainless idiot.” “I’ve been with Tristan all this time. I didn’t know he had a wife. How many lives do you have? How dare you tell such an outrageous lie?” “If you’re really Mrs. Blackwood, why would you be completely unknown? Why would you live alone in this deserted villa?” With that, Melody snorted and ordered her friends, “Keep stripping. Leave nothing on her!” Her friends didn’t hesitate. They violently tore at my clothes again. Clearly, they had no idea that this entire area was deserted because Tristan had bought all the land for miles around. No one could enter without his permission. Originally this villa had bodyguards and housekeepers. But because Tristan was insanely jealous, he dismissed everyone. He never announced my identity publicly because he didn’t allow others to look at me. Even discussing me was a violation in his eyes. I never imagined these facts would become reasons for them not to believe me. Seeing my clothes torn to shreds, I panicked. I shouted again, “I really am Tristan’s wife! Call him if you don’t believe me!” Hearing this, they didn’t stop. They became even more violent. While frantically tearing my clothes, they slapped me repeatedly. “You lying bitch! Still lying? We’ll beat some sense into you today!” Soon my face was burning hot and swollen. My hair was disheveled and my clothes barely covered me, exposing large areas of skin. Seeing this, Melody’s eyes gleamed. She spoke slowly, “This bitch’s hair is an eyesore. It’s blocking the view of her body.” With that, she smiled wickedly and pulled out a lighter. She set my hair on fire. The flames spread rapidly across my head. Intense burning pain engulfed me. My cheeks, ears, and entire scalp felt the searing agony. The pain was unbearable. I instinctively tried to pat out the flames, but my hands were held down firmly. In moments, my hair was completely burned away. My scalp was covered in burn marks. Finally satisfied, Melody laughed triumphantly. “Hah! Let’s see you seduce men looking like a bald freak!” Her friends laughed and applauded too. I glared at them, trembling all over. “You’ll regret this!” For years, Tristan threatened me with my family’s lives and kept me prisoner. I lost my freedom. Day after day, I could only stare at the empty villa in a daze. This left me with pent-up frustration. And now I had to endure this torture from his substitute. The frustration in my heart instantly transformed into deep hatred. Melody walked up to me and pressed her foot heavily on my face. “Still dare to challenge me? Since your filthy mouth can’t say anything I want to hear, you won’t need to talk anymore.” “Cut out this bitch’s tongue!”

With one command, a bodyguard behind Melody immediately walked toward me holding a knife. Seeing this, one of the more timid friends spoke nervously, “Melody, this is Mr. Blackwood’s territory after all. If we go this far, won’t it be… inappropriate?” Melody said without hesitation, “What’s inappropriate about it? Tristan is my man. His home is my home. I’m just teaching a shameless bitch a lesson in my own home. Who dares say anything?” “Besides, Tristan adores me so much. Even if I killed this bitch, he wouldn’t frown at me.” The other friends chimed in, “Exactly. Our Melody is the woman Mr. Blackwood treasures. What can’t she do?” “Mr. Blackwood will only feel sorry that Melody worked so hard teaching this bitch a lesson.” With their encouragement, even the timid friend felt reassured and watched the show. I lay on the ground, watching the knife in the bodyguard’s hand come closer and closer. I was terrified. I screamed in panic, “I really am Tristan’s wife! If you do this, he’ll never forgive you!” But my threats had no effect. The bodyguard moved like a heartless machine. He reached me and thrust the knife into my mouth. I tried to escape, but Melody’s friends held me down firmly. I tried to dodge, but the gleaming blade had already pried deep into my mouth. The knife fell. Through the haze, I saw massive amounts of blood and my severed tongue falling from my lips. The pain reached its peak. It felt like every nerve in my body had snapped. I was on the verge of passing out. I lay in a pool of blood like rotting flesh, unable to move, barely breathing. Melody crossed her arms, admiring the scene from above. “With your pathetic looks, even if you got surgery to look like me, Tristan would never spare you a glance. He loves ME as a person, understand?” “Not everyone has my good fortune. Not just anyone can make Tristan fall for them.” “Since you’re so desperate for men, I’ll give you a few.” She looked at the bodyguards behind her coldly. “I’m giving this bitch to you as a reward. Whoever performs best gets two hundred thousand dollars!” Hearing this, the bodyguards’ eyes lit up instantly. They rubbed their hands together eagerly and pounced on me like wolves. I lay limp on the ground with no strength to resist. I wanted to cry out, but without my tongue and with my mouth full of blood, I couldn’t make a sound. I could only let them violate me. Though Tristan obsessively kept me imprisoned here, he never hurt me or touched me. Even when I refused to be intimate with him, he never forced me. He said he would wait until I willingly gave myself to him. He said I was destined to be his woman for life. But now I was drowning beneath these bodyguards, helpless. Despair and hopelessness engulfed me completely. I couldn’t make a sound. Only tears streamed down my face. Tristan, is this the outcome you wanted? Melody’s friends watched the show while flattering her. “Our Melody was born to be Mrs. Blackwood. You really know how to handle people.” “Right? Look at this bitch. She was so cocky at first, but now she’s crying. Haha, she’ll never dare seduce men again.” “Congratulations, Melody, on successfully eliminating another slut. Let’s see who else dares compete with you for Mrs. Blackwood’s position!” Melody beamed with pride, like a victorious general. Her triumphant smile never faded. But suddenly, the excited bodyguards showed strange expressions. The next moment, one bodyguard stood up and reported, “Miss Winters, this woman is dead!” Hearing this, Melody grimaced in disgust. “What wretched luck! Just dig a hole and bury her. The last thing we need is that filth polluting Tristan’s view.” The words had barely left her mouth when Tristan stepped into the courtyard.  “What are you doing?” his voice cut through the air, cold and demanding.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “305253”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #校园School #励志Inspiring