At graduation, I finally mustered up the courage to confess to my crush. But, as fate would have it, I got hit by a car. When I woke up, my crush stood right in front of me, staring at me coldly. “You’re awake? Great, let’s discuss the divorce agreement.” Me: ??? I haven’t even confessed yet! How did this turn into a divorce? At my graduation ceremony, I finally summoned the courage to confess to Zachary Warren, my long-time crush. On the other side of the crosswalk, Zach was standing there, looking sharp in his graduation gown, taking photos. I got so excited that I dashed toward him, completely missing the fact that the light was red. There was a loud crash. I was hit by a car, and everything went black. The next time I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the blinding white ceiling. And there he was. Zach, standing by my hospital bed. Still as handsome as ever. This might be the first time we’ve been this close. Zach was looking up at the IV drip, but his gaze slowly shifted to my face. I accidentally noticed the ring on his left hand. I’ve had a crush on him for so long. So, he’s already taken? Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I forced a smile and greeted him, “Zach, what are you doing here?” As I tried to sit up, I noticed that my arm was wrapped in thick bandages. The next second, Zach sat on the chair beside my bed, his voice cold and distant. “Jennifer, you’ve really mastered the art of manipulation. Risking your life just to push for a divorce?” I stared at Zach, completely confused. What is he talking about? Divorce? I haven’t even graduated yet, let alone gotten married. Where is this divorce thing coming from? Just then, a nurse came into the room, holding a tray for bandaging wounds. “Dr. Williams, you’re still here? Miss Niles, you don’t realize how lucky you are. You were hit by a car, but thankfully Dr. Williams happened to be nearby. He gave you emergency care right away. Otherwise, it wouldn’t just be a broken arm you’re dealing with.” The nurse bent down and carefully disinfected my wound. After she rested my hand on the side of the bed, I noticed… I was also wearing a ring on my right hand! And it matched Zach’s ring. A couple’s ring! A wave of fear and uncertainty washed over me. After the nurse left, I grabbed Zach’s sleeve in a panic. “Zach, you graduated from NYU Medical School in 2018, right?” He frowned, clearly annoyed. He shook my hand off and looked at me coldly. “Since you’re awake, let’s go over the divorce agreement.”

This is absolutely ridiculous! I was on my way to graduation, got hit by a car, and now I’m being accused of “faking an accident” to force a divorce from Zach? Either I’ve lost my mind, or Zach has. “Wait, Zach!” Before I could finish, a little kid suddenly ran into the room, jumping right into Zach’s arms. Me: ??? Wow, this kid is so adorable. I reached out with my good arm to pinch his cheek, but he immediately hid behind Zach, clearly scared. “Sorry, little guy. You’re just too cute. I couldn’t help myself.” Zach shot me a disapproving look. It suddenly hit me that I hadn’t even gotten to the main point. “Zach, this might sound crazy, but I don’t remember anything you’re talking about. All I recall is being on my way to the graduation ceremony…” Before I could finish, Zach cut me off impatiently. “So, you’re telling me you’ve lost your memory?” Amnesia? Yes, that must be it. Amnesia is the only explanation for why I don’t remember any of this. I nodded sincerely. Zach’s icy expression didn’t soften. He pulled a document from his bag and tossed it onto my lap. “This is the divorce agreement. The terms are exactly as you requested. If you have no objections, just sign it.” I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. The little boy in Zach’s arms looked sad, his lips trembling. “Zach, shouldn’t we avoid discussing such topics in front of a child? It’s not good for his emotional well-being.” “How considerate of you, Jennifer,” Zach sneered. “That’s our child.” … “And yet, when you were having dinner with another man, did you ever think about how that might affect his emotional well-being?” I hadn’t even processed his first sentence when the second one hit me like a ton of bricks. I stared at the little boy in disbelief. So, I didn’t just get married—I have a child too? But the little guy paid no attention to me. He buried his face in Zach’s neck, refusing to even look my way. Too much information. My brain couldn’t handle it. I was officially out of commission.

It took me a whole day to wrap my head around everything. It seems I really did lose my memory. I’m still me, and Zach is still Zach. The only difference is—we’re married, and we have a kid. But that divorce agreement sitting on the bed speaks volumes: there’s clearly a problem with our marriage. The problem is… did I cheat? No way, right? Why would I cheat on Zach? He’s good-looking and smart. I must’ve been crazy. So, what went wrong? How can I get my memory back? I scratched my head, completely frustrated. “Mommy.” A tiny voice came from the door. I looked up to see a small face peeking through the slightly open door. “Daddy said you need to disinfect your hand. Here’s the iodine. He said you should do it yourself.” The little boy held a bottle tightly in his tiny hands. I gestured for him to come closer. “Mommy’s hand hurts. Can you bring it over for me?” The boy hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded and shuffled over to the bed, placing the iodine on the bedside table. I pulled him onto my lap and studied his features. His eyes were big and round like mine, his nose straight like Zach’s, and his face… a perfect combination of both of us. This was our son. I couldn’t resist hugging him tight and planting a big kiss on his cheek. He smelled so sweet and innocent—absolutely irresistible. When I looked up, his face was bright red. He froze for a moment before wrapping his little arms around my neck and hugging me back tightly. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Mommy, you smell nice.” This little guy is the sweetest thing ever. As I basked in the joy of my son’s affection, the door opened again. Zach entered, his familiar presence filling the room. “Daddy!” The little boy immediately ran to Zach and held his arms out, waiting for him to pick him up. Zach had just showered, wearing casual loungewear, looking effortlessly sexy and relaxed. His hair was still slightly damp, with droplets running down his neck and disappearing into his collar. I swallowed. This man was dangerously attractive. As he came closer, my heart started racing. But then Zach’s words shattered my moment of bliss. “Jennifer, don’t you think it’s a little late to start being a good mom to Cooper?” “I… I didn’t mean to…” I tried to explain, but the look on Zach’s face told me he wouldn’t believe a word I said. So, I stayed silent. “Whatever. Do what you need to do. I’m heading out.” As I left the study, Cooper peeked out from Zach’s neck and gave me a glance. Watching the two of them so close, a wave of sadness washed over me. What good are a husband and child if my husband doesn’t love me? Even my son seems closer to him. I started questioning everything. Why did we get married in the first place? Why did we have a child? Outside, the full moon hung high in the sky. The night breeze blew through the balcony, scattering my emotions. Nothing has changed. Except for me.

The master bedroom had only one large bed. The entire room was decorated in a minimalist black, white, and gray palette. Apart from that, it was immaculately tidy, with a light scent of gardenias floating in the air. I recognized it instantly—it was my favorite fragrance. I headed to the walk-in closet, looking for my pajamas. But all I saw was a row of black clothes. And they were all men’s clothing. … I had no choice but to knock on the door of Zach’s study. “Zach… I mean, honey, sorry to bother you.” Zach looked up from his laptop, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. His whole demeanor was both tempting and distant. “Do you know where my pajamas are? I looked through the closet in the master bedroom but couldn’t find them.” Zach stared at me for a few seconds without saying a word. Just as I was about to give up and leave, he suddenly stood up and walked toward me. He towered over me, standing at six foot one while I barely reached five foot five. I felt like a child standing in front of him. Zach smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. “So, are you planning to carry on with this amnesia act?” I gulped, unsure of what to say. The truth was, even if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t believe me. Thankfully, he didn’t make things difficult this time. He walked past me, heading toward another part of the house. I stood there, confused and not sure what to do next. He glanced back at me from the corner of his eye. “Well? Aren’t you coming?” I immediately followed him, keeping a safe distance. “Thanks.” Two minutes later, I eagerly opened the closet door in the guest bedroom to grab my pajamas. But the moment I saw what was inside, I slammed the door shut, my face flushed with embarrassment. Oh my God! “This is…” I didn’t even finish my sentence, but I knew Zach understood. He stood by the door, arms crossed, silently watching me with a look that said, “Keep going, I’m just here to watch the show.” … Taking a deep breath, I slowly reopened the closet door. Inside were outfits so revealing, they looked like they belonged on a nightclub dancer. Tiny scraps of fabric—there was hardly anything to cover up with! Was this how I dressed after graduation… I mean, after I got married? Had my style become this… provocative? To make things worse, Zach didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving. I ignored his piercing gaze and continued searching through the clothes. But I couldn’t find anything even remotely “normal.” … I sighed inwardly and, for some reason, turned to Zach and asked, “Honey, which one do you like seeing me in?” His eyes immediately darkened, and without a word, he turned and walked out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and the sound made me jump. Why did he get mad? They say women are hard to understand, but men are even more of a mystery. I grabbed some pajamas and headed to the bathroom. A wild thought crossed my mind: could our impending divorce have something to do with… issues in the bedroom? After my shower, I wrapped myself in a robe and headed to Cooper’s room. The nursery was cozy, and it was clear Zach had put a lot of thought into it. Everything was designed with care. I tiptoed over to his bed. Cooper was fast asleep, clutching a little stuffed animal. I gently tucked the blanket around him and wiped his thumb, which he had been sucking on. For the first time, I felt a real connection to being a mother. But I still didn’t know how old he was. I looked over at our marriage certificate. It was dated four years ago. That meant Cooper must be around three. I ruffled his hair and quietly left the room. Just as I closed the door, I turned around and saw Zach standing right in front of me. We were so close that if I looked up, I could bump into his chin. My back pressed against the door, and Zach didn’t seem to realize—or care—that he was invading my personal space. My heart raced so fast, I thought it might leap out of my chest any second. “Are you done?” “Yeah.” The air was thick with awkwardness. I had no idea what to say next. “So… are you going to bed now?” Zach didn’t respond or make a move. I tightened the robe around me, making sure he couldn’t see the revealing pajamas underneath. “Okay, I’ll go to sleep first, then.” I stepped aside and practically bolted to the master bedroom. Without a second thought, I jumped into bed, pulled the covers over me, and lay still. Moments later, the bedroom door opened, and Zach walked in. He paused when he saw me lying in bed, seeming a little surprised. He stood there, just staring at me. His gaze made my scalp tingle. “Honey, which side do you usually sleep on?” No answer. Has Zach always been this strange? He’s so quiet, always just staring coldly, without saying a word. Frustrated, I got out of bed and stood by the side. “You pick first.” Zach finally moved. He walked to the other side, lay down, and shut off the bedside lamp with a loud click. … Now we were in total darkness. Great. Thankfully, I don’t have night blindness, or I’d really be angry right now! I fumbled in the dark, trying to get comfortable under the covers, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was a chaotic mess, and to make matters worse, my arm, which was still sore from the accident, started to hurt again because of the way my robe was pressing against it. I shifted slightly, but Zach didn’t react, so I sat up and tried to remove my robe. As I finally managed to shrug it off, rubbing my sore arm, Zach suddenly opened his eyes. Before I could react, he rolled over and pinned me beneath him. I gasped, my breathing instantly becoming erratic. In the dark, I couldn’t see him clearly, but I could feel how close he was—so close that our breaths were mingling. “Jenny, what are you doing?” Zach asked, his voice low. “What do you mean?” “You wanted to get married, you went through so much trouble to get a divorce, and now you’re lying next to me, trying to seduce me. Jennifer, I don’t have time for your games. What do you want?” “Seduce you?” I stared at him, completely stunned, when suddenly I felt a chill across my chest. Looking down, I realized that my pajamas were way more revealing than I thought. No wonder Zach thought I was trying to seduce him. “I… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” I reached for the robe I had tossed onto the floor, but Zach had already had enough. He got up from the bed, clearly done with the conversation. “Jennifer, I don’t care what you’re thinking. I don’t have any feelings for you anymore. I hope you understand that. Whether you’re faking amnesia or trying to seduce me, it doesn’t matter to me.” “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. Do whatever you want.” Zach left. And now, I was alone in this big room, with nothing but my sadness.

I couldn’t sleep. I just lay there, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling until dawn. Around 7 a.m., I heard Zach’s voice outside, speaking to a woman who kept saying “okay, okay.” It was probably the nanny, I guessed. A little while later, the front door closed, and I heard the sound of the car engine starting. Zach had gone to work. I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling while my mind raced. I’ve never been an outgoing person—if I were, I wouldn’t have been crushing on Zach for so many years without saying a word. But now, not only had my crush succeeded, but I had also become his wife. Along with the shock, there was a sense of joy I couldn’t suppress. I thought this was my one big chance from fate, but it turns out I played my cards terribly in this marriage. Emotional intelligence really is my weakness. As I was lost in thought, the bedroom door suddenly opened. A woman in a nanny uniform walked in. The moment she saw me, she apologized repeatedly. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone was in here.” “It’s fine, I was just about to get up.” I smiled at her, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly walked into the room. “Mr. Warren left for work. I assumed no one was here since you usually slept in your own room.” My own room? Suddenly, memories from the day before came rushing back. There was definitely a bed in that other room where I grabbed my clothes. So, I had been sleeping in a different room all this time? Does that mean Zach and I had been living separately? It all made sense now—Zach’s strange behavior yesterday. Oh no, this is embarrassing. I buried my face in my hands, and a flood of regret washed over me. Hearing our conversation, Cooper came running to the bedroom door, his bare feet thumping against the floor. He stood there looking at me with big, expectant eyes, but didn’t dare come in. “Cooper, come to mommy.” I gently called to him, holding out my arms. The little guy’s face lit up with excitement. He sprinted across the room and jumped into my arms, knocking me onto the bed. He flashed a big smile, his tiny teeth showing. “Mommy,” he said, nuzzling his head against my chest. My heart melted. No matter how much Zach might hate me right now, Cooper is still my baby. I would always love him. After saying goodbye to the nanny, I took Cooper out for some quality time together. We went shopping. I bought him a bunch of cute clothes and treated myself to some more “normal” outfits. Honestly, the clothes I wore after getting married were a bit… much. Holding Cooper in my arms, I watched as he happily ate his ice cream, his face smudged with cream. I gently wiped his mouth. “Cooper, what was Mommy like before?” Cooper pouted, his voice soft with a hint of sadness. “You didn’t like Cooper.” Then he added, “You were always so mean.” Kids don’t lie. Hearing this broke my heart. So, I really had changed that much, to the point where even I wouldn’t recognize myself? Then why did Zach marry me? Was it out of love? If so, he sure had an interesting taste. “Mommy, I want that!” Sitting in my lap, Cooper pointed at a McDonald’s poster advertising the latest family meal. Well, kids will be kids—can’t resist the temptation. Me: “Let’s buy it!” An hour later, Cooper and I sat side by side on the couch in Zach’s office, looking like two children who had just been caught misbehaving.

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I’ve always been known as the prettiest and most popular teacher at our school. Everyone admired me. But then, one of my students, a boy I tried really hard to help, tricked me. He drugged me, and while I was out of it, calling him “sweetie,” he put his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he bragged about it and shared videos everywhere. “What’s so great about her? I slept with her, and she’s not special at all,” he said. My world crashed. No one looked up to me anymore. My husband left me, my family was ostracized, and I got fired from the school. The online bullying was too much, so I jumped from the school’s roof. But then a miracle happened. I woke up again on the exact day that boy was supposed to transfer into my class. Once again, I stood in front of my senior-year class, wearing my familiar Bohemian dress and white sandals, looking as graceful as ever. I was still that young, beautiful English teacher. A new student had just joined our class, and today was his first day. As he walked in, everyone looked at him curiously and started whispering. “Whoa, he’s so ugly! My expectations have just been crushed.” “I’m not being mean, but he makes me feel sick. Sorry, not sorry.” He walked in with a limp, his face covered in acne scars, and a big mole under his nose. “Hi everyone, I’m Rolf Wagner. ” At that moment, he shyly greeted the class, his gaze fixed on me. I stopped breathing for a second. Rolf Wagner — no matter how many times I die, I’ll never forget that name. Hatred surged within me. In my previous life, I pitied him for his poor background, stood up to bullies for him, bought him new clothes, and taught him life lessons. But on a stormy night, Rolf Wagner followed me home. I let him in to avoid the rain, but he secretly drugged my drink. While I rested on the couch, calling my husband’s name in a daze, he trembled as he unbuttoned my shirt. I passed out completely, helpless. The next day, I woke up covered in bruises and marks. Panicking, I immediately called the police, but he was nowhere to be found. During the days he disappeared, I was constantly on edge. Then, I saw the explicit video that was spreading like wildfire in every group chat, captioned: “What’s the big deal about her? I’ve had her, and she’s nothing special.” The woman in the video being humiliated was me, sobbing helplessly, begging for mercy. The internet exploded with rumors, because once, my candid photos had gone viral, and I had been dubbed by netizens as the “Dream Girl” and “First Love Face.” #DreamGirlTeacherFakesDrunkennessToSeduceStudent# He didn’t come forward to admit what he did. Instead, he hid in the shadows and sent me a creepy anonymous text: “Mrs. Gregory, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, I’ll treat you well.” Ultimately, unable to withstand the online bullying, I jumped off the school’s rooftop in despair. At that time, I was already three months pregnant. From being praised by everyone as their ideal to falling from grace, I found myself in a hopeless abyss. But now, as I once again stand in front of the classroom, looking down at the students below. The gears of fate start turning. This is my chance to redeem myself.

He gave me a shy smile, and when our eyes met, a shiver ran down my spine. I tried to stay calm. After all, I had a second chance, and he had no idea about it. I could still stop everything from happening. “We have a new student today. Who wants to sit next to him?” I announced. Since he started school late, he was older than the rest of us, already twenty, and he wasn’t what you’d call good-looking. The classroom fell silent—nobody wanted to pair up with him. Just then, the top student in our class raised her hand. “Mrs. Gregory, I’ll sit next to him.” Her kind face reminded me so much of my past life. I replied coldly, “I’ve heard that Wagner is struggling academically. I wouldn’t want him to hold you back. Let’s have him sit by himself in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats where he could sit with someone, but I chose the harshest way possible. He seemed puzzled, as if he couldn’t believe my indifferent attitude and how I was deliberately making things hard for him. Rolf Wagner muttered to himself, “Why she treated me like this…” Every word he said sent chills down my spine. After class, I bolted back to my office, my back soaked with cold sweat. I gulped down some hot coffee but didn’t even feel the heat. My mind was racing. Should I quit and leave now? I had worked so hard to get this job. Why should I give it all up because of him? I sat there, dazed, until it was time to go home. My husband, Albert Gregory, was waiting in the car at the school gate for half an hour. When he saw me coming down, he hurriedly got out and pulled me into his arms. “You seem really upset. What happened?” he asked. Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. Albert and I had a great relationship. In my previous life, he divorced me to protect me from online bullying, moving with me to another city under new identities. When he saw how much I was suffering, he even took a knife to confront Rolf Wagner, but Rolf turned the tables on him, leaving him dead in a pool of blood. Looking at Albert’s handsome face, I wiped away my tears and forced a smile. “It’s nothing, just feeling a bit unwell. Let’s go home.” Albert was still worried, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a check-up. An hour later, the blood test results were in. I was pregnant. Albert, over the moon, lifted me and spun me around. “Honey, this is amazing! We’re going to have a baby!” “If it’s a girl, she’ll be as beautiful and cute as you,” he said. I laughed through my tears, silently vowing to protect this hard-earned happiness. The next day, I went to class as usual, using a microphone because my voice was hoarse. The loudspeaker drowned out all my chaotic thoughts. I didn’t look towards that corner of the room, focusing solely on teaching. A few days passed peacefully, until Thursday afternoon. After my last class, I was heading back to the office when several female students blocked my way. They were supporting Rolf Wagner, who smelled like the bathroom and was covered in injuries. His limp was worse than ever. I knew his pitiful demeanor was just a facade. He was strong enough to fight back but never did, silently enduring the bullying from a few troublemakers. His nails were long and dirty, and his left hand was bloody, with a chunk of skin missing. “Mrs. Gregory! Rolf got bullied, and his finger’s skin was ripped off. What should we do?” one of the girls asked, standing up for him. Rolf looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunched in pain, making his face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Gregory…” I didn’t want to deal with it and told them to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. “But, Mrs. Gregory, you have a first aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Can’t you bandage him up here?” A student called out. I hesitated, seeing Rolf’s pleading eyes and his bleeding hand. Just then, the bell rang. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, follow me. Everyone else, go back to class.” Rolf flashed a barely noticeable sly smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty because it was class time. I opened the first aid kit and pulled out some alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down, I’ll dress your wound,” I said. The breeze fluttered the curtains, lightly ringing the seashell wind chime near the window. I gently and meticulously cleaned his wound. As I worked, he suddenly blushed. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Mrs. Gregory, you… you’re really beautiful,” Rolf said, staring blankly at me. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and dunked his entire finger into the bottle of alcohol. His wound, already down to the raw flesh, was now submerged in disinfectant. “Be a good boy and let me disinfect it, okay?” I said. He screamed in pain, trying to pull away, his face contorted in agony. “It hurts, teacher! It hurts so much!” But I kept smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, forcing his finger into the narrow bottle neck, soaking it in alcohol until it turned red. He bit his lip, drawing blood, his eyes bulging in shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes.

He could see clearly that I was kind and gentle to everyone—everyone except him, the monster I knew he was. Because of his serious injuries, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. After a few days, Rolf Wagner came back to school with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in my classes, raising his hand to answer questions, but I always ignored him. Even when he won first place in the school computer competition, I gave him no praise. His enthusiasm gradually dimmed. One day, he approached me and asked, “Mrs. Gregory, why can’t I earn your approval no matter how hard I try?” I slightly swiveled in my office chair, not even looking at him. If showing mercy and compassion results in betrayal, then I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I can protect myself. “Because you’re unworthy. Some things can’t be changed with effort. Your disgusting heart is far uglier than your face,” I said, feeling justified. Just days ago, on my way home, I caught him torturing a stray cat. By the time I saw it, the poor kitten had been scalded to death with boiling water. He had smiled and said, “That little cat-so naughty! It scratched me.” And back to the moment, Rolf Wagner glared at me, his hand clenching slightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the headmaster noticed and frowned while reminding me, “Mrs. Gregory, treat all students equally. Don’t be harsh on him; he needs extra care.” But I didn’t hide my disdain. Right in front of Rolf, I said, “What’s so special about him? He is no different from the other kids. If I treated him differently, would that be fair to the other students?” As a result, he began to hate me, spreading rumors about an improper relationship between me and the principal. However, whenever he saw me, he still put on a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, he started wearing shabby jackets and torn jeans, sticking out in our well-dressed student body. I heard he lost his parents young and was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him rotten. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I was awarded the title of Outstanding Teacher at the city level—a double celebration. I had a great relationship with my students, making this job something I loved deeply. A few students pooled their money to buy me a beautiful, grand bouquet, which I accepted with a smile. Just as I was laughing and chatting with the students, I saw an unexpected guest in the crowd. Rolf came up to give me a flower as well. He handed me a single white rose, its petals crushed and oozing sap—a hideous sight. “Mrs. Gregory, I saved up my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please like it,” he said, full of hope. But I, with my smile gone, took a tissue, picked up the flower with it, and tossed it to the ground in front of all the teachers and students. I wrinkled my nose in disdain. “Gross.” Rolf’s mouth quivered, but he still bent down to pick up the flower and walked away silently. His brooding gaze sent chills down my spine, but I didn’t turn back. I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He always directed his anger toward those weaker than him, while he feared the strong.

My husband, Albert Gregory, had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had even picked up some basic moves for self-defense. When I got home, Albert was waiting with a big bouquet of roses, his voice soft and loving. “Happy birthday to my amazing wife!” Despite his efforts, I couldn’t shake off my worries. During our candlelight dinner, he mentioned his upcoming overseas research trip. “This trip is really important, honey. I’ll be away for two months and I won’t be around to take care of you,” he sighed. I surprised him by firmly saying no. Knowing he wouldn’t believe in superstitions, I explained, “Albert, I had a dream a few nights ago. After you left, a guy broke into our house, tortured me, and you got killed while trying to protect me.” “Our whole family was ruined, while the bad guy got away,” I said, trembling. Albert squeezed my hand, worried. “How could that happen? We live in a safe neighborhood. Are you feeling okay?” After a lot of pleading, Albert decided to stay and give up his scholarship opportunity. I felt bad for holding him back, but I couldn’t ignore the grim date approaching—that stormy night when Rolf Wagner had broken into our home before. Fate seemed cruel. I remembered it was a Friday. After school, Rolf had once followed me in the rain, begging to come inside. That night, Albert was delayed by a storm. I grew anxious after I couldn’t reach him. He finally texted me, “Honey, the rain’s causing accidents on the highway. Traffic’s crazy, and I can’t make it back. Rest up, okay?” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock at the door. The rain pounded harder, drowning out my scattered thoughts. I began to relax a bit and got sleepy. My body was sticky with cold sweat, so I decided to take a shower before bed. The hot water felt comforting against my skin. In the bathroom mirror, I saw my reflection—cherry-like lips, a dainty nose, and big almond eyes with long lashes. I looked beautiful. I touched my still-flat belly. Albert always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our baby would be adorable. Lost in thought, I grabbed a towel. But then I saw a shadowy face in the foggy mirror moving towards me. It was Rolf Wagner! Panic surged through me. This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked our door lock. A cold, muddy hand reached in. I screamed, but he quickly grabbed my waist, his other hand moving up my body. “Mrs. Gregory, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Can you… hold me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294593”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

The day I bled during my food live stream was a big deal—it was my first time hitting a hundred thousand viewers. My brother rushed into the frame and slapped me across the face. My boyfriend, sitting next to me, scoffed, “She’s just faking it for the views.” Because of that, I was slammed with online bullying, and some folks even started using voodoo dolls on me. But they had no clue that I’d been diagnosed with stomach cancer two months prior. Eventually, I decided to live stream my final moments, so everyone could witness my journey. The viewers skyrocketed to three million, and my brother and boyfriend sped to the hospital, driving like they were in a race. I probably ate way too much, and suddenly, I couldn’t help but cough up blood. Just like that, my viewership jumped to over a hundred thousand. The chat was loaded with people concerned about me. It felt nice to know some folks still cared, and it lifted my spirits. Higher traffic meant I could make the leaderboard and score a bonus to plan myself a decent funeral. Just as I was about to speak, the sharp slap stung me again. For a moment, I thought I had really gone to heaven. Stars danced in front of my eyes. “They’re just acting for the views,” my brother, Jake, said, completely unfazed. I turned to look at him; his face showed nothing but indifference, while my brother, Ethan, glared furiously at me. “Don’t believe her, folks; you should check out Sophie instead. She’s the real deal.” How ridiculous! I was bleeding, yet they were still trying to promote Sophie. “I’m not faking it!” I forced out the words through the pain in my stomach. But suddenly, the chat turned against me. The same viewers who had once been sympathetic were now throwing insults my way. “Damn, I really thought she was sick.” “She’s disgusting. Go watch Sophie instead.” Soon, half the viewers had left. Then the live stream got shut down after someone reported me for faking it. No bonus for me today. The dream for a nice funeral also shattered. “Get that blood cleaned up; it’s gross!” Jake looked at me with disgust. Ethan wasn’t about to show me any sympathy, either. To them, I was just a faker. “Effie, Sophie’s mom is sick and needs that bonus way more than you do. You can’t take this from her and expect us to be nice.” Ethan’s voice was ice cold. Who would’ve expected this was my boyfriend of five years? He was once the guy who said he loved me and wanted to marry me. Now, he was taking Sophie’s side. After they left, I coughed up another mouthful of blood. The bright white tiles were stained red, and I suddenly thought back to the doctor’s words from two months ago. “Do you have any family?” “They’re all gone.” I sucked on a lollipop, pretending it didn’t bother me, while the doctor looked shocked. He wasn’t the first one to react like that; everyone thought I was joking. But in my heart, losing my family felt as real as death itself. My best friend had stolen my boyfriend. Soon after, she was with my brother. Then she told them I’d tried to have her killed to snag the live stream bonus. Everyone believed her and pitied her. Even my mom thought she was a better daughter than me because she was sweet and caring. While I felt incompetent, believing I had been the reason my dad had died. Everyone hated me, so I decided to think of them as dead. I wouldn’t bother them with my illness. “You’ve got stomach cancer. You’ve got at most six months left,” said the doctor, trying to sound serious. “But there’s hope with aggressive treatment.” I bit down on the lollipop. Just then, a text from my mom popped up. “No bother to come home for the anniversary of your dad’s passing. I don’t want to see you.” I burst out laughing; I had always been the bad girl in their eyes. If I died, so be it. Later on, Sophie somehow got wind of my illness. On my birthday, she showed up, grinning wickedly. “You have cancer, right? You planning to tell everyone? Just you wait! I’ll make everyone hate you!” At dinner that night, she told everyone I’d faked my cancer diagnosis. She even showed them the fabricated medical document. Mom, Jake, and Ethan all swallowed it whole. 2. Mom slapped me hard right then and there. Jake tossed aside the cake he bought for me. Ethan said, “You’re disgusting.” From then on, they all thought of me as a lying b*tch. I tried to explain it was all a misunderstanding, but they wouldn’t believe me. “Let’s go out to eat.” Ethan stormed back in. When he spotted the blood on the floor, his brow furrowed tightly. “Effie, can you stop pretending? It’s only making us hate you more.” I looked up at his handsome face, one I’d known forever. We had been close since we were kids—partners in crime. He once said, “I’ll stay with you forever.” Yet now, he’d chosen Sophie over me. In my room, they had been all over each other, and it made me sick. His excuse for cheating was “a drunken mistake.” “Ethan, let’s break up.” I wiped the blood from my lips and said it calmly. His eyes widened, rushing at me and grabbing my shoulders. “Is this about me interrupting your stream?” He snorted. “Effie, can’t you be a little grateful? You’ve got a brother and me. You’re from a well-off family.” “But Sophie has nothing, and her mom is sick!” I forced a bitter smile. Happy? Jake hated me, Ethan cheated on me, and even if I told my mom I was sick, she wouldn’t give me a dime. Was that happiness? “I’m breaking up with you.” I kept speaking as the pain danced in my stomach again. The doctor said just last week that I couldn’t keep binging; otherwise, I’d end up dead in no time. But I needed the cash. Before I pass, I just wanted to make a little more money for a decent funeral. I wanted to leave this world in style since I hadn’t lived right in it. This would be my final gift to myself. “Fine, you said it. Let’s break up then.” Ethan let go and walked out. Moments later, Sophie messaged me. “lol your loved ones all hate you. How’s it feel?” I didn’t respond, just took a screenshot. My gallery was loaded with our past messages. I hoped there’d be a day when the truth would shine through. … I cleaned myself up and headed to my cozy little hub. Whenever I felt down, I would retreat here. Inside, I had a ten-year-old sister I’d adopted; her name was Effie as well. She had my name, and I thought we were alike. She had been abandoned by her family. I adopted her because I saw myself in her. “Effie, you’re here! Check this! I got a perfect score on my report card!” As soon as she saw me, she jumped into my arms. I ruffled her hair. “Ef, you’re amazing! How about a special meal?” She had no idea about my cancer. I didn’t want to burden her with my problems because such conversations only brought sadness. “Yeah! Let’s hit KFC!” “Sounds good!” Every time I celebrated her achievements, we would go to KFC. Never to McDonald, though, for some reasons. When w arrived, I placed the order. Just then, Jake and Sophie walked in. Sophie saw me, gasping in shock. “Oh my gosh, Effie, is that your a bastard child?” If only I could sew her mouth shut because she drove me insane. Jake strolled over, firing off questions. “Whose child is this?” “Hey, I’m Effie as well. You can call me Ef. Effie adopted me.” They fell silent at Ef’s words. But Jake quickly scoffed, “You keep acting sick, yet you’re here at KFC? Effie, you’re a fucking liar.” With that, he and Sophie turned and left. Halfway through my meal, pain gripped my stomach, and I vomited blood. “What’s wrong, sister?” Ef rushed over, worriedly hugging me. I felt dizzy from the pain. “I… I’m fine.” Just then, Jake rushed in and checked on me. Funny. Hadn’t he thought I was faking all along? Next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital room. My brother was glaring at me, furious. “Are you done with the act? You know I was going to KFC with Sophie, so you decided to fake the blood, right?” “Don’t hit my sister!” Ef shoved him back. “Effie, come here,” I said softly. She held my hand tightly, looking up at Jake, the brother I felt I barely knew anymore. My cheeks burned from the pain as my heart sank. No one had clued him in about my illness? Even after I was sent to the hospital? And for god’s sake, he himself is a f*cking doc! If he’d just care to take a look, he’d realize how serious my condition was. “Get lost.” I said quietly. He seethed in anger. “Effie, you’ve grown some guts!” He raised his hand to hit me again. “Brother.” I said it soft enough to break through to him. He seemed stunned. It had been ages since I’d called him “brother”. “Let’s sever ties. I won’t bother you any longer.” I never imagined it would come to this day. He was once so gentle and kind toward me. Everyone knew how Jake was tough with the world yet soft with me. He had always treated me like a princess. He would stay by my side through fevers, buying me anything I wished. One birthday, I mentioned wanting to visit the Grand Canyon, and he drove me overnight. He had once told me, “Effie, I’ll protect you forever.” And yet, everything changed when Sophie came along. “Say that again!” Jake’s fists were clenched. “I said, I want to cut ties.” “I’m no longer your sister, just like you’re no longer my brother.” I didn’t need a family like this anyway. “Fine. You said it.” He stormed out, slamming the door. Then a young intern in a white coat strolled in. I glanced at his name tag. It read “Shawn.” He came over and adjusted my IV. “This should help.” “Thanks.” Looking at Ef by my side, I saw her red-rimmed eyes filled with concern. “Effie, are you sick?” Tears began to flow again without warning. “I’m good. You should head home for now; I’ll be back soon.” She was always obedient, nodding before leaving with her backpack. Once she was gone, Shawn sighed deeply. “Your health is deteriorating; you need hospitalization and chemotherapy, or you won’t make it.” “Then I’ll go for the chemo.” I had initially planned to earn enough money to handle my situation. But now my funds were gone. That night, Ethan came back to see me. He brought me my favorite fruits. “I heard from the doctor that you’re fine; let’s get out of here. Stop fighting with Jake.” I’d told Shawn not to share my condition without my okay, so he hadn’t spilled the beans to Ethan either. I always wanted to let them know, but now I didn’t want to share that burden. “First off, I’ve broken up with you.” “Secondly, my problems with Jake aren’t your concern.” His face darkened. “Effie, everyone’s been so good to you! Why insist on being difficult?” Good to me? Did they genuinely care? It felt ridiculous. “Get out, will you?” “I’m sick of looking at you.” Every time I saw him, I imagined him with Sophie, tangled up together. It made my stomach turn. Suddenly, Jake burst back in. “Effie, are you still not done?” He rushed toward me and slap me hard again. This time, it sent a ringing in my ears. He had never been like this before; he hadn’t raised his voice at me ever. I guess everything changed over time, and he started to treat me differently. “I’m giving you a chance to back down, and you still want to throw a fit?” “You don’t want me as your sister? Well, I don’t want you as my brother either!” Ethan shook his head in disappointment, then walked out. It was as if everyone who once treated me kindly was now drifting away. But I didn’t care; I didn’t want them around anyway. The next day, Jake strolled in wearing his lab coat, holding McDonald’s. Seeing that iconic logo made my face pale. “Get lost; I’m not eating.” He said, “It’s your dad’s death anniversary; weren’t you always asking for McDonald’s on this day? I’m letting you feast.” When he hurried over to shove the greasy chicken into my mouth, it lodged painfully in my throat. Everything flashed back to that day years ago. Suddenly, I vomited blood, pressing the emergency button in a panic. In came Shawn, ready to fight. “Have you lost your mind? She has stomach cancer!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294592”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

Substitute, substitute – just a replacement for his true love. His true love was coming back, and I was supposed to gracefully exit. Who knew the obsessive male lead would try to force me to stay. His eyes flashed red as he spoke coldly: “Run away again, and I’ll have a cage made just for you.” I rolled my eyes. “This is a society of laws, you psycho.” But when I got home after finalizing the divorce, I saw a giant golden cage in the living room! I gasped. Was it too late to run now? That’s right, I was playing a role. The kind where you step into an over-the-top romance novel to help the original female lead fulfill her wishes. The original Aria had been a substitute for billionaire CEO Dominic Thorne for five years, falling hopelessly in love with him. She even schemed against his true love, Ethan White, just to win Dominic’s heart. In the end, she fell ill from despair and passed away quietly. I scoffed at this. If a man doesn’t work out, just find another one. But the original Aria was determined to hang onto Dominic Thorne. Her dying wish was for me to win Dominic’s heart. And then crush it! Trample it! Destroy it! Clearly, when love becomes an obsession, people go a bit crazy.

I stepped into the story three months before Ethan White was due to return. As soon as I opened my eyes, I heard a husky, suppressed voice say, “Shut up. Don’t make a sound. Your voice doesn’t sound like his.” I thought to myself, I haven’t even said anything! Then I realized something was off… Oh crap… we were in bed! Well, talk about perfect timing for my arrival. Whatever, since I’m here, might as well enjoy myself. I closed my eyes, ready to fully experience whether the male lead was any good. Suddenly, a stinging heat spread across my backside. Dominic had actually spanked me. “You’re being disobedient today. This is your punishment.” “Count.” Help! Why didn’t anyone tell me this male lead was a pervert? I gritted my teeth, thinking about my mission – win his heart, then crush it mercilessly! At that moment, I deeply understood the original Aria’s feelings. Swallowing my shame, I stammered out the count: “One.” “Smack!” “Two.” “Smack!” “Three.” … Meanwhile, I was forming a plan in my mind. Step one, to win someone’s heart, you first need to make them feel sorry for you. Sympathy is the precursor to love. I inwardly smirked. Feeling sorry for a man is the beginning of misfortune. Dominic Thorne, just you wait. Apart from counting as Dominic demanded, I didn’t say another word. I just let tears well up in my eyes, on the verge of falling but not quite. I stared at Dominic, my face full of grievance. But he remained unmoved. If anything, his movements became even more forceful. I could barely stand it and accidentally cursed out loud. Crap, I’d broken character before even getting started. Dominic suddenly froze. “…” Silence. Silence filled the large bed tonight. He sat up, gripping my chin, and said coldly, “What did you say? Say it again.” You bastard. But outwardly, I could only pout weakly and pitifully, “I didn’t say anything…” As for what happened after that… I don’t want to remember.

The next morning when I woke up, I was alone in the big bed. Dominic was nowhere to be seen. I gingerly tried to get up, my body aching all over. But for the sake of my mission, I gritted my teeth and got out of bed. Dominic is a wealthy CEO, very busy most of the time. I, as his substitute, had nothing to do except wait for his beck and call. This wouldn’t do. How could being a substitute be considered a proper job? It’s not like Dominic was paying me benefits or insurance. So, I decided to find a job first. Hmm, self-reliant people are the most beautiful. A regular nine-to-five wouldn’t work. What if Dominic called and I had to skip work to be his substitute? I’d easily get fired. I went to a bar, or more accurately, a gay bar. There were all kinds of men inside. I thought this job would be pretty good. I said I wanted to be a resident singer, and the owner pointed to the high stage, telling me to perform a song. This was easy for me. I took a few steps onto the stage and gave them a song and dance performance. The music was deafening, and the colorful lights flashed dizzily. I danced passionately on stage. The audience went wild, with many people shouting and some even trying to climb up to hug me. Lost in the performance, I took off my jacket. The short T-shirt underneath barely covered my waist, revealing glimpses of skin with each movement. Then I flashed a smile at the audience and tossed my jacket down, causing an uproar. Of course, I didn’t notice that Dominic, drinking with friends in a private booth, had already darkened his face. Whatever, with so many people in the audience, who was he to judge? When the song ended, I thought the owner would be satisfied, but he looked anxious instead. I asked in confusion, “What’s wrong? Was the atmosphere not lively enough? Should I do another song?” The owner quickly waved his hands and grabbed me, looking troubled. Before he could speak, I heard a familiar voice. “It seems I was too gentle last night.” Dominic leaned lazily against the counter, holding a glass of wine. He took a sip, then walked closer. His breath tickled my face. I lowered my eyes and said softly, “I don’t know how to do anything else. I can only do this kind of work. I’m sorry.” Dominic impatiently said, “Haven’t I given you money?” “But… but,” I bit my lip, a stark contrast to my wild performance earlier, “What if you don’t want me someday?” A faint wetness glazed my eyes, making them sparkle even more. I continued, “I heard people say Ethan White is coming back…” “Tch, so you’re looking for a backup plan?” Dominic laughed, “Finding a new sugar daddy in my own establishment? What kind of person do you take me for?” “No!” I quickly refuted, then looked up directly at Dominic, my eyes filled with an intense love that couldn’t be dissolved, “Actually, I know this place belongs to you. I… I…” “Why are you stammering? Spit it out!” So I continued, “I just thought, after you don’t want me anymore, if I work here, maybe someday when you come… I could see you from afar.” Dominic’s hand holding the wine glass paused. He seemed a bit irritated, “You like me that much?” I didn’t answer, but reached for the glass in his hand. He didn’t give it to me, instead pulling me into his arms and bringing the glass to my lips. I took a small sip, then turned my head and kissed him lightly, laughing softly, “Sweet.” Dominic’s eyes darkened, his hand on my waist tightening. Seeing his expression, I pressed on, hugging his neck. Though my voice was clearly reluctant, I pretended to be calm, “Don’t worry, I know I’m worlds apart from Ethan White. After he comes back, I’ll leave quietly. I won’t bother you two.” “But before he returns, can you… can you love me a little more?”

It turns out that acting weak and pitiful always works on men. Dominic didn’t let me work at the bar. Instead, he arranged for me to work at his company as his assistant. Tch, now we’d be seeing each other all day, every day. I went to work with him every morning and returned home together every evening. I completed every task exceptionally well, proving myself smart and capable. I could clearly feel that Dominic was no longer as cold towards me as before. Oh, and I secretly learned a bunch of cooking tutorials, bringing homemade lunches to eat with him. “I know you don’t eat onions, ginger, garlic, or soy sauce. I’ve been careful about all that. Try this sandwich, how is it?” I looked at Dominic with hopeful eyes. Step two, to capture a man’s heart, you must first capture his stomach. Imagine, who wouldn’t be moved by someone who cooks for you every day? Dominic sat on the couch, glanced at the lunchbox, and asked, “You made this?” “Yes, I watched some tutorials. The taste should be okay. Try it and see if you like it?” I said, then quickly added, “It’s fine if you don’t!” Dominic raised an eyebrow, “You commute with me every day, and you’re not free at night either. Where did you find time to watch tutorials? You weren’t slacking off at work, were you?” I hurriedly explained, my face slightly flushed, “Of course not! I… I watched them after you left at night.” Damn, he keeps me up so late every night! I can only stay up even later to watch tutorials. Dominic pulled me onto his lap, his large hands gripping my waist tightly. He said, “Then I won’t leave from now on. I’ll stay and make sure you don’t stay up late.” I immediately put on a delighted expression, “Really?” He used to go back to his own room to sleep after… well, you know. I’ve never even been to his room, only staying in the guest room. Dominic nodded, his magnetic, deep voice sounding by my ear, “Mm, come sleep in my room.” Sitting on his lap in broad daylight discussing this kind of topic inevitably led to some thoughts, inevitably led to some sparks flying. His hand slowly moved down, caressing from my waist to my butt, even trying to explore further. I felt a certain part of him changing, let out a soft gasp, and pushed against his chest with a red face, “Let’s… let’s eat first.” Dominic laughed out loud. I rarely saw him laugh so purely before, and was momentarily stunned. Damn, this face really is male lead material for a dramatic romance novel! “Alright, let’s eat first,” he was unusually gentle, but his next words revealed his true nature, “Then I’ll eat you.” He finished the sandwich in a few bites. When I asked if it was good, he said it was delicious, but his eyes were fixed only on me. Heh, men.

He went into the rest room for a moment, and when he came out, he had a tie and a black box in his hand. I thought, oh no, and the next second, Dominic blindfolded me with the tie. “Be good, we’re going to play a game of Red Light, Green Light today.” “…What?” Dominic took my hand and led me to the large office chair behind his desk. He picked me up and set me on the desk. “The rules of the game are, when I say the command, you must immediately freeze in whatever position you’re in. No talking, no laughing, no moving, no making a sound.” His hand caressed my throat, and I couldn’t help but swallow. I heard him chuckle, then he continued, “If you move or make a sound, you must accept a punishment.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Understand?” I nodded obediently. He then took my hands and placed my palms flat on the desk, saying “Then the game begins.” I thought he would immediately call out the command, so I tensed up. Being blindfolded made me a bit nervous, losing my sense of sight. But Dominic didn’t say anything for a while. He kissed me. First on my blindfolded eyes, then the tip of my nose, and finally my soft lips. The kiss was brief. It was replaced by his fingers. “Mmm…” My tongue was like a small fish between his fingers, slippery and playful. I could even feel the lines on his fingertips, though that was probably just my imagination. His fingers were long with distinct knuckles. I couldn’t help but inwardly grumble, why did they have to be so long! I could only open my mouth slightly to breathe in more air. At that moment, Dominic suddenly called out the command. !!! I froze. He just had to call it now of all times! Saliva was about to uncontrollably drip out, but I couldn’t move or make a sound. Damn it, perverted Dominic! This is too embarrassing. And while I couldn’t move, Dominic could! His other hand started roaming everywhere. The enemy was too cunning. I ultimately lost. I couldn’t help but bite down on his fingers, mumbling accusingly, “You’re bullying me…” Dominic didn’t mind being bitten. He gently pulled his hand away, took out a tissue to wipe the corner of my mouth, and smiled mischievously, “You broke the rules. You have to accept punishment.” I raised my hand to hug his hand before he could pull it back completely, gently kissing it with my lips, and looked at him pitifully, asking in a small voice, “Can the punishment be lighter?” But Dominic didn’t answer. He took off his own tie and then embraced me, tying my hands behind my back. Only then did he say, “For the first time, it can be.” I moved my wrists a bit. The tie was tied quite tightly. Then Dominic started unbuttoning my shirt, but not with his hands. Mm, he lowered his head and came closer, using his agile lips. The faint dampness was like wind and clouds, elusive and intangible. Although I couldn’t see his expression, my heartbeat shamefully quickened. Ah, men! They’re all the same at their core. I scorned myself. When he unbuttoned my chest, I couldn’t help but think, if my hands weren’t tied, as a normal man, I’d really want to press his head down hard right now, making him show a vulnerable and confused expression because of me. But alas, now I was at his mercy. I got lost in my thoughts, a bit distracted, until Dominic kissed a certain spot and then called out the command. I jolted! He’s doing this kind of thing again! I closed my mouth tightly, determined not to move or make a sound, not giving Dominic any chance to torment me. Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. When Dominic used his teeth to gently grind, I really couldn’t control myself and let out a moan. Dominic then let go of me, laughing happily, “That’s the second time. What should I punish you with this time?” “I’ll give you a pair of little butterflies.” I was stunned. What little butterflies? I heard Dominic seem to open a box and take something out. While I was still guessing what he had taken out, a sudden pain shot through my chest. Ah ah ah ah ah damn it! I know what Dominic took out now! What kind of decent person keeps these things in their office?! Dominic adjusted a bit, then gently flicked with his hand. The metal butterfly wings clinked together, making a delicate sound. He praised, “Beautiful.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294591”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

A sudden rainstorm led Asher to seek shelter in a lounge bar, unaware that this chance encounter would stir his emotions and change his life forever. “The first time I saw you, you were wearing a deep red cheongsam. Your pale thighs flashed before my eyes. Do you know what I thought before my brain short-circuited?” “What?” “I got hard.” “…” Asher shook the raindrops off his umbrella, gazing at the dense curtain of rain in the distance. He sighed and stepped into the stylishly minimalist lounge bar in front of him. He had heard about this place from his colleagues long ago but had never visited, as he usually stuck to a regular routine. Today was an exception. His car was in for maintenance, and with the heavy rain, he didn’t fancy taking a cab due to his germaphobia. So, he decided to wait for the rain to let up a bit before leaving. In the meantime, he might as well relax in this lounge bar. Asher put away his umbrella and sat down. His tall, striking figure attracted numerous glances, but he remained oblivious. With a calm expression, he ordered a drink and sipped it slowly. Suddenly, a flash of red caught his eye. Asher’s hand froze mid-air, still holding his glass. Whether it was the alcohol or a surge of hormones, Asher felt a tingling sensation spread through his body. His eyes were drawn to that splash of crimson. “She” had a beautiful, elegant face with subtle makeup. Despite exuding sensuality, “she” maintained a cold demeanor, radiating an unapproachable aura. “She” sat down right next to Asher, ordered a strong drink, and waited lazily, propping her chin up. It was another kind of beauty to be savored slowly. Asher’s gaze traveled downward. The red dress perfectly covered “her” thighs, yet hinted at a glimpse of pale skin. In an instant, Asher felt himself react. Embarrassed, he sat rigidly for about five or six minutes before his body gradually relaxed. Asher swallowed hard. “She” was so close to him, barely a few inches away. Close enough for him to catch “her” scent. Asher was gay, not because he had been “turned,” but because he had immediately recognized that this cold, red-dressed “woman” was actually a man. Asher had noticed from the moment “she” entered. This person had a tall, masculine frame and facial features that were distinctly aggressive. However, it seemed no one else had noticed, still entranced by the beauty that had appeared before their eyes. Asher felt a bit nervous. This was the first time he had encountered his ideal type. After about a minute, he finally mustered the courage to speak. “Excuse me, sir, I…” “She” seemed surprised that Asher had discovered “her” true gender. “She” looked up and studied Asher carefully. After a moment, “she” smiled softly. Her voice was deep and magnetic. “You’re the first one to notice. I’m Chris. And you are?” Asher hurriedly gave his name, “I’m Asher.” Chris smiled, and all the coldness melted away, revealing an androgynous beauty that was both soft and sensual. Chris’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Asher, you like me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Asher hadn’t expected his feelings to be so easily read. He felt a bit embarrassed. Chris finished his last sip of alcohol, stood up, and asked Asher, “Want to come with me?” Asher hesitated for a moment but decided to follow.

Chris walked quickly, moving in high heels as if they were sneakers. It was only then that Asher realized Chris was actually half a head taller than him, probably around 6’3″. He wondered if Chris liked shorter guys… Chris opened the passenger door, gallantly inviting Asher to get in. Asher complied, feeling a bit nervous. Chris smiled, “You don’t need to be so tense. I don’t bite.” Asher loosened his tie and gave Chris a gentle smile. “I’m not nervous. My tie was just a bit tight. I’m fine now. You can drive.” As Chris drove, he casually asked while waiting at a red light, “Do you want to go home or come with me?” The implication was clear. Asher naturally agreed. After all, Chris was his ideal type. Chris’s home was a villa slightly distant from the city center. It was spacious, about the same size as Asher’s house. Asher took a shower first. When he came out, there was only one set of clothes left on the bed. Asher tried them on and was surprised to find they fit perfectly, exactly his size. Asher sat on the bed. As time passed, he got a bit bored. He didn’t have the habit of playing with his phone for long periods, so he turned his attention to the bookshelf. He casually picked up a book and started reading… When Chris finished his shower and walked into the room, his body was still damp. Chris had short, neat hair; the vivid long hair from before was just a wig. Asher felt a bit disappointed. He had quite liked Chris in the wig, but Chris looked handsome like this too. It wasn’t until Chris pressed him down and started kissing the corner of his mouth that Asher’s calm expression finally began to crumble. “You’re a top?!” Asher’s voice was filled with disbelief. He seemed to want to struggle, but surprisingly, his strength wasn’t greater than Chris’s. “Don’t move. Be good,” Chris gently bit Asher’s neck, his hand applying a bit of pressure as he gripped Asher’s sensitive spot. Asher’s body instantly went limp. All he could do was glare at the man above him with reddened eyes. Chris’s voice was husky and magnetic, seemingly possessing a bewitching power. “Relax, Asher…” With that, he spread Asher’s legs and thrust in.

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You have a beautiful canary. You keep him imprisoned in a golden cage, admiring his beauty, vulnerability, and what you consider his “ugly side”. He never hides his hatred for you, and coincidentally, you’ve never shown him your love either. “Come here.” He seems not to have heard your command. You watch him leisurely, your expression showing no displeasure. His gaze, filled with caution and observation, remains fixed on you, as if trying to guess your current mood. “I’ll say it one more time. Liam, come here.” He hesitates for a moment but eventually walks over. As he moves, the chains constantly jingle. You don’t find it jarring; instead, you watch him with a pleasant mood. “Do you remember what we’re supposed to do today?” He frowns. His once clear and bright eyes are now a dull gray, and his whole demeanor is listless, yet there’s a kind of reckless beauty about him. Yes, beautiful. In bed, you often say things to insult him. Although his parents didn’t care much for him growing up, he had a very good material life. His strength isn’t great, and his desperate resistance is easily overcome by you. You can effortlessly bring him to the bed. In his desperate gaze, you torment him again and again. At first, he would cry. Unlike his cold body temperature, his tears are scalding hot. Sometimes you gently wipe away his tears, sometimes you get more excited, and sometimes you pretend to let him go, only to punish him severely after hope has sparked in his eyes. And you, you always prefer the third option. You really like seeing his incredulous look. That fragile feeling of shattered hope. Ah, truly… irresistible to you. However, because of these actions, you have no credibility in his eyes. In the dark room, there’s a moment of silence. You twist the ring on your right ring finger, saying carelessly, “Oh? Forgot?” You know he hasn’t forgotten; he’s already trembling. He looks so pitiful. You smile. You look at his downcast eyes. “Avoidance won’t work, be good, Liam.” He slowly walks forward, like a walking corpse, and opens the door for you. This is also your wicked pleasure.

You gave him the key to the golden cage. This golden cage isn’t actually very big, but it’s exquisite. In the past, after being bullied and cleaned up by you, he would often curl up in the corner, hugging his knees. You didn’t know if he cried or not. He was quiet, not making a sound, even when tears streamed down his face from your torment, he would only make a little noise when you were particularly rough. Actually, you were unsatisfied, and this dissatisfaction manifested in even more intense sexual encounters. But he seemed to be stubborn with you, refusing to give in to your wishes. You didn’t care, it wasn’t you who was in pain. Moreover, his behavior made it easier to arouse your sadistic desires. It must be said that during those days, you had a particularly good time. But he was in a much worse state. After cleaning him up, you said, “Liam, you need to be good, understand?” … He lay on the bed, eyes closed, not sure if he heard. “Three, two, one…” “Mm.” An unwilling sound came from under the blanket. Satisfaction flashed in your eyes. As a reward, you decided to go abroad to discuss a few projects first, and not torment Liam for a while.

One time, you walked over to him, forcibly lifted his chin, and examined his face. His eyes still had a hint of redness. “Why are you crying?” He glared at you. You said indifferently, “Your performance was decent this time. Do you want to see your parents?” Liam’s expression darkened. In the first few days, he would often curse you as a beast, saying he wanted to break off the engagement, that he wanted to go home. He even attempted suicide several times. Under your repeated violent suppression and torture, he submitted.

Liam Harper was the eldest son of the Harper family, which actually held quite a high social status, though not as high as yours. Originally, the Harper family had planned to arrange a marriage between their younger daughter and you, as your public image was that of a decent person. But you said, “Mrs. Harper, actually, I’ve liked Liam for a long time.” Mrs. Harper was surprised, but remembering that you and Liam were from the same high school and likely had quite a bit of interaction, and given that their family was quite open-minded, she agreed to the marriage. Moreover, your family’s influence was broader, so of course, they agreed to the engagement. Thus, in the second year after your graduation, you and Liam got married. At first, you wore a mask of gentleness, treating him well. You and he maintained a respectful distance. After about two or three months, once you had prepared the basement, on Liam’s nineteenth birthday, you locked him in the golden cage. From then on, day and night, he could only endure everything alone. You still remember his incredulous gaze, his tearful pleas, his helpless and frightened appearance, his embarrassed face-covering… His fierce resistance in the past made you particularly excited. Sometimes you wanted him to be more obedient, after all, you were tired after a long day and wanted to relax in a gentle embrace, but he was so disobedient. Now he’s much more docile, but you find yourself missing his previous demeanor. “Didn’t you used to cry and make a fuss about wanting to go home? Why don’t you want to go back now?” His hands clenched into fists, his voice still hoarse. As he spoke, tears fell uncontrollably. He lowered his head, not letting you see his post-climax expression. “I thought…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, but you knew what he wanted to say. After all, he was now a “dead” person. In what capacity could he go see his parents? Moreover, his parents had their own new children now. How would they care about this child from a previous marriage?

When he first learned that he had been declared “dead”, his mood was very low, but you didn’t spare him. Five years had passed, and you were very familiar with his body. You easily aroused him, making him very disheveled. However, good-looking people have a kind of beauty no matter what state they’re in. You took photos. Actually, in the year he turned nineteen, in those few months when you revealed your true nature, you took many photos of him. There’s a printer at home. You personally printed those photos and plastered them all over an entire room, as his twentieth birthday gift. He said you were crazy. You laughed, pointing at those unspeakable photos, lazily saying, “How beautiful. Liam really doesn’t know how to appreciate.”

Liam actually had a cleanliness obsession. Because of this, he was very generous. During spring and autumn outings, he would buy snacks and distribute them to his friends, often one pack per person. Many people secretly said how good it was to be friends with Liam. But since you discovered this, you had to make good use of it. As for how you discovered it? You are a very wicked person. You’ve always known this. You like to see him dirty. Sometimes you deliberately don’t help him clean up. At those times, he would use what little strength he had left, his slender white hands reaching through the golden bars, grabbing your pant leg. Then, hoarsely begging you. “Help me…” The first time you were called back, you raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding his meaning. “Help you what?” “Help me… clean up…” Your expression almost instantly darkened. “What? You think it’s dirty?” “…” He didn’t know how to answer. “I feel uncomfortable…” He showed weakness. It must be said. If he had always spoken to you like this, you would definitely have treated him well. But who knows? He only begs for mercy when he can’t bear it anymore. Tsk.

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Logan had been active on Twitter for years and was familiar with the rules of fan circles. He knew that fan groups had zero tolerance for anyone insulting their idols. However, after only a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the post button. “Did you insult someone today: @ZacharyYe What redeeming qualities do you have besides your face? Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid. How could anyone like such a piece of trash?” Indeed, he had insulted Zachary, the current hot commodity in the entertainment industry. Not only did he use his full name instead of initials, but he also directly tagged him, truly testing the limits. However, Logan was fearless. It was just a small account with only 23 followers. Fans shouldn’t be able to find him, and even if they did, what could they do? He was already being generous by not using his main account to insult him. But he ultimately underestimated the abilities of fans and netizens. The next morning, as Logan was preparing to write and save drafts for his new work, his editor’s eighteen urgent calls disrupted his train of thought. He irritably answered the phone: “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” “Wait, wait! Little Wood, was that you who insulted Zachary on Twitter?” Logan snorted when he heard Zachary’s name, “So what if I insulted him?” “It’s not ‘so what,’ it’s trending! ‘Original author of ‘The Path’ uses small account to insult male lead online, it’s not just boiling, it’s exploding!’ The editor’s exasperated voice came through the speaker, causing Logan’s ears to hurt, and he had to move the phone away a bit. He realized what was going on but remained calm, reassuring, “Well, that just saved the crew some publicity costs. They should thank me.” “I’m going to check it out and see if I can make two explosions in three days. We’ll talk later if anything comes up.” After hanging up, Logan opened Twitter but wisely didn’t log into his small account. Instead, he first logged into his main account to observe the situation. To his surprise, even this author account with a million followers had been overwhelmed. He ignored the 99+ comments and messages and opened the trending list. #Please apologize to Zachary, author of ‘The Path’# #Did you insult someone today Logan# #Protect the best Zachary in the world# #Zachary has someone he likes# “Tsk, my first time trending and it’s asking me to apologize to that thing?” Logan didn’t care much about those unpleasant comments, just briefly looked at the cause and effect. It turned out that his small account and main account Logan were mutually following each other, and there was a photo of his left hand in the album that netizens dug up and found to be identical to one Logan had posted before. He didn’t care at all about how fans were cursing him and had no intention of replying. After sending a message to his editor, he simply turned off his phone and decided to focus on writing. What nonsense trending topics, is it a big deal to have someone you like? Eyesore! By evening, things had fermented more and more seriously. Many fans even began to jointly “petition,” demanding that Zachary give up the male lead role in “The Path,” but neither side had made any public response. Gossip marketing accounts began to comb through the love-hate relationship between Logan and Zachary over and over again, but no matter how much they combed, they couldn’t find any intersection between the two. In the end, they concluded that Logan was probably very dissatisfied with Zachary playing his male lead. In fact, although Zachary was undoubtedly the top traffic in the entertainment industry, his acting skills were really average. More than half of those millions of fans were there for his face. Whether or not there was data to prove it, anyway, Logan firmly believed this. Logan, who had spent three hours writing five hundred words, decided not to struggle anymore. He decisively closed his computer and prepared to go to sleep. But when he really lay down, he couldn’t help but take out his phone and watch the video that had angered him to curse again. It was a video of a movie roadshow scene. In the video, a reporter asked Zachary if he would like someone with the female lead’s personality in real life. Zachary, in a black suit, shook his head gracefully, indicating he wouldn’t. The reporter was about to follow up when they heard him slowly say: I have someone I like. Logan sneered at his phone, wishing he could poke out his dog eyes with his fingers. He gestured a few times, but unexpectedly, he didn’t hold back and poked the like button. He hurriedly unliked it, thinking to himself, damn it, will this trend again?! Out of sight, out of mind. Logan finally decided to turn off his phone and go to sleep, but a SnapChat message suddenly popped up on the screen. Seeing that familiar name, Logan’s eyelids twitched. He wanted to ignore it, but he was still curious about what the other person would say. Zachary: Are you there? Logan: If you’re here to ask if I’m the one who insulted you on the trending topic, then there’s no need to ask, it was me. If you’re here to ask why I insulted you, there’s also no need to ask, do I need a reason to insult you? Zachary had just finished work and returned to the hotel. Seeing that the other person had been typing for half a minute and sent such a message, he couldn’t help but laugh. But then he thought of something, his expression darkened, and his smile faded. He slowly typed “No” and sent it without waiting for Logan’s reply, then sent another message. Zachary: I just wanted to ask if you want to get back together? Logan looked at the message on the screen, speechless for a moment, then exploded: Go get back together with the person you like! After sending it, he felt that he had revealed his emotions too obviously. Being so angry made it seem like he still liked him. After hesitating for a moment, Logan decisively chose to recall the message, then haughtily replied with one word. Logan: Fuck off. Later, until midnight, Logan didn’t receive a reply. Logan and Zachary had a history, even a long one. In college, when he first started writing on the website, he didn’t have much popularity, so he remembered very clearly the early readers who often commented on his work. Zachary was one of the few readers he could remember. The reason was simple: while others either praised Logan for writing well or encouraged him to keep going, only Zachary, under a username, seriously said that if he ever became famous, he would definitely play this male lead. This book was “The Path.” At first, Logan thought Zachary was just showing off, but later, after each update, he could see Zachary commenting and analyzing the plot. Over time, the two got to know each other. Later, they discovered that they were actually schoolmates, and their relationship became even closer. Logan fell in love first, boldly and passionately pursuing Zachary for a month before succeeding. Five years passed like this. Zachary became a hot star, while Logan also became a god-tier author who could easily sell the copyright for tens of millions. But six months ago, Logan unilaterally proposed a breakup, ending their cohabitation. At that time, Zachary had asked many times why, but Logan never answered.

The like that Logan accidentally tapped did indeed trend again. However, unlike what he had expected, this time, some gossip netizens let their imaginations run wild, concocting a drama of a god-tier author secretly loving the current top traffic star but unable to have him, thus hating him out of love. Isn’t there a saying, the deeper the love, the harsher the criticism? Logan pretended not to know about this, but Zachary shared a love song expressing secret love on Twitter, seemingly in response, which sparked another round of heated discussion. “Is our Zachary saying he has a secret crush on someone?!” “Taking Zachary away, going to listen to the song, not interested in anyone else.” “As an outsider, I feel a bit sorry for Zachary hahaha. He played the lead role but got harshly criticized by the author, really unfortunate.” “I think that Logan guy’s criticism was quite right. What does Zachary have going for him besides his face? Fans, don’t talk about acting skills. If that’s called acting, I could win an Oscar.” “This song sounds so heartbreaking, so who hurt who hahaha…” Of course, Logan also saw Zachary’s Twitter post but didn’t think much of it, assuming it had nothing to do with him. Who knew that later, Zachary would even share this song with him on SnapChat. Logan: ??? Zachary: Do you like it? Logan: Are you crazy? Zachary: Come to the opening ceremony of “The Path” the day after tomorrow. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Although Logan had previously agreed to attend, why did seeing Zachary say this make him so uncomfortable? Logan didn’t reply for a long time, and Zachary sent another question mark. Logan: Want me to perform a live diss of Zachary for the reporters? Zachary: … Zachary: Whatever makes you happy Zachary: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you Logan was taken aback. Indeed, since their breakup, they hadn’t seen each other once in these six months. Thinking of this, Logan’s not-so-young heart began to flutter again. He knew he was being a bit pathetic. They had already broken up, and it should have been a clean break, but he still couldn’t help wanting to see him. After all, it had been half a year, 6 months, 180 days. Zachary: If I don’t see you that day Zachary: You better be prepared to get screwed. ????????WTF??? The opening ceremony for “The Path” was held at a high-end hotel near the film base in Hillsdale. The venue was packed, mostly with reporters from various media outlets. Logan sat on the stage with the director and main creative team, but he secretly grumbled, seeing the reporters’ fiery gazes, knowing they wanted to see him and Zachary battle it out live. Tsk, shouldn’t have come. Before going on stage, the event organizer’s person in charge smiled apologetically at Logan while “advising” him to be considerate and not start a verbal battle on stage. It would be best to clarify that he and Zachary had a good relationship, which was why he had vented on Twitter. Logan agreed with “okay, okay, okay” while inwardly mocking, do you think netizens are all idiots? They’ll believe whatever you say? Whether intentional or not, he was arranged to sit on the far left, with four or five people between him and Zachary. This way, even if they wanted to have a duel with their gazes, it would be difficult to achieve. Zachary arrived relatively late, so Logan hadn’t run into him yet. Even if they were face to face, he wouldn’t know what to say. Finally, it came to the media Q&A session at the end of the press conference. By this time, the reporters were all excited and eager to ask questions. Logan saw this and just wanted to roll his eyes. “Zachary, may I ask how you view Logan’s comments about you on Twitter?” Zachary picked up the microphone and smiled, “I appreciate Logan’s supervision.” “Zachary, do you have any thoughts on playing the male lead Crispian in ‘The Path’?” Hearing this question, Logan slightly turned his body to look at Zachary. “I’m very honored,” Zachary pondered for a moment, then continued, “I really like the book ‘The Path,’ and playing Crispian has been a dream of mine for a long time.” The reporters below nodded understandingly, just pleasantries after all, everyone would say that. However, the fact that Zachary could maintain this attitude towards someone who had publicly insulted him showed that his demeanor was indeed quite good. This statement actually gained Zachary quite a bit of goodwill. Logan appeared very calm on the surface, but no one knew what emotions were hidden beneath that rather handsome face. The next reporter then threw a question at Logan, “Logan, what’s your opinion on Zachary playing Crispian?” Logan: “Well, he needs to work hard.” The audience burst into laughter, looking at him with meaningful gazes. Zachary suddenly chimed in, “In the future, I hope Teacher Logan will give me more guidance.” He said the last four words very slowly. For some reason, Logan suddenly had a bad feeling. The reporters specially invited to the press conference all had a sense of propriety and wouldn’t throw out questions that were too sharp or embarrassing. So this press conference ended smoothly without any incidents. There was also a small banquet in the evening. Logan didn’t plan to stay long, but Zachary had specifically called him on SnapChat to come, yet didn’t even give him a glance or specially seek him out. What did that mean? Logan said goodbye to the organizers and was about to leave when he was stopped by the staff member he had greeted earlier just as he was leaving the hotel. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Logan?” “I am, is there something?” The staff member pointed to a young man holding a bouquet of flowers nearby, “This gentleman said there’s a flower order, the address is here, and the recipient is you.” The young man also came over and handed the bouquet to Logan, “Sir, here are your flowers.” Logan was confused but accepted the bouquet. He found it contained a type of flower he had never seen before, with a card inserted in the middle that only had two lines of text, and next to it was a room key card. Logan’s face darkened when he saw it clearly. “Trash flowers for a piece of trash, perfect match.” “9 PM, Royal Hotel Room 1106, wait for me.” Zachary, you bastard! Logan naturally refused to obediently go to the hotel and wait for him. Holding a bouquet of trash flowers, he decisively left.

After the banquet ended, Zachary went to the Royal Hotel, but there was no one in Room 1106. He wasn’t too surprised; if Logan had really listened to him like this, he wouldn’t have insisted on breaking up with him. Mentioning this, Zachary was extremely depressed. Zachary could swear he hadn’t cheated, hadn’t neglected him, hadn’t lied to him, hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Why was Logan so determined to break up? Was all their years of affection fake? He had asked Logan many times, but the answers were all similar. Logan said there were no feelings left, so they should separate. But this didn’t make sense. To say Logan didn’t like Zachary? Even a dog wouldn’t believe that. When Logan was pursuing Zachary back then, he had really put in a lot of effort. Zachary thought that since Logan wanted to be apart for a while, he’d let him be. Anyway, he would eventually come back to him. Who knew that after six months apart, Logan still showed no intention of coming back. Zachary vaguely felt something was wrong. He looked at the hung-up phone call, hesitated for a moment, then turned and left. Six months was long enough. His Logan should come back now. “Logan, why are you back so late?” The security guard, familiar with Logan, casually asked. “Went out for some air, to clear my head. Otherwise, I kept feeling like I was a big idiot.” “Ah? Haha, Logan, you’re really funny.” As Logan walked towards his home, he was cursing himself in his mind. Logan, you’re a complete and utter idiot. Wandering around the hotel area for 5 hours just because of a bouquet of trash flowers? He was just saying it, why did you take it seriously? What’s the use of waiting until 9 o’clock or even 11 o’clock? Didn’t you still not see a single shadow? He could hardly believe that such a stupid thing was actually done by himself! The key is that he didn’t even wait for him! That trash Zachary didn’t come at all! The more he thought about it, the more he wished he could travel back in time and slap himself. Unfortunately, time travel couldn’t be realized, so Logan could only go to sleep quickly, attempting to forget everything after a good night’s rest. However, wanting to forget everything? That was certainly impossible. Logan was woken up by knocking on the door. He rubbed his eyes and irritably scratched his head. “Who is it? So early in the morning.” Logan opened the door and saw Zachary’s rather good-looking face. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. “It’s already 11 o’clock, and you say it’s early?” Zachary didn’t wait for an invitation and slipped past Logan into the house. Logan quickly closed the door and chased after him, “Who are you?! Did I let you in?” Zachary made himself at home, “I’ve been driving for several hours. Let me rest for a bit.” “Who knows where you were messing around last night!” Zachary paused in his movements, pointed his index finger at Logan, and said, “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in 1106?” Mentioning this, Logan became furious: “Bullshit, you didn’t even go. You told me to wait for you?!” “You went to the Royal Hotel last night? I arrived at the hotel at nine o’clock. How come I didn’t see you?” Logan was speechless. He had waited so long at the entrance, yet didn’t see him? Logan suddenly realized that a big star like Zachary might have entered through the side door… Zachary: “Speak.” “No! Am I crazy to go look for you?” Zachary looked at him for a few moments, not asking further, then sat down on the sofa. “…” How can this person be so brazen? “Zachary! Get up, this is my home!” Logan said, then reached out to pull him, but unexpectedly was pulled into Zachary’s arms. The two fell onto the sofa. Zachary half-embraced Logan, his warm breath blowing on his face, making him feel a bit itchy. Logan struggled, “Get off! Don’t crush me!” “Don’t move!” Zachary stared quietly at Logan, “It’s been half a year since we last met. I really missed you.” After saying this, he lowered his head and tightly hugged Logan. Logan’s breath caught, and his heart began to soften, losing its sharp edges. Zachary raised his head to see Logan not reacting, lifted the corner of his mouth slightly, then gently kissed his lips. Unlike their first kiss, which was careful and tentative, this one was gentle enough. “Enough! Zachary!” Logan suddenly pushed him away hard, his face expressionless as he pursed his lips. “What’s wrong?” Zachary acted as if nothing had happened, adjusted his posture a bit, and made some space for Logan. Logan: “What do you mean what’s wrong? Zachary, we’ve already broken up.” Zachary looked up at him and said calmly: “So?” “So we should keep our distance. Zachary, please leave immediately.” Although Logan was usually easy to explode and carefree, when he really put on a serious face, it was quite intimidating. But Zachary was unmoved, even laughing, and ruffled Logan’s hair like before they broke up, “Stop messing around, Logan. Move back in.” Logan was speechless. The original mix of emotions – happiness, difficulty, hesitation, heartache – suddenly deflated like a balloon, all gone at once. Zachary had never taken the breakup seriously. From beginning to end, he didn’t know why Logan wanted to break up, and he… didn’t care. Logan smiled for the first time, but it was shallow and fleeting. “Zachary, listen carefully, I’ll say it one last time,” Logan paused, seeing Zachary’s expression sink, no longer as relaxed as before, then continued, “We, I Logan and you, Zachary, have broken up, with no connection anymore. I won’t appear in front of you again in the future, and please, don’t come to bother me anymore.” Hearing this, Zachary felt a faint uneasiness in his heart. He wanted to appear more at ease, but his words came out tense, “Logan, I haven’t agreed to break up yet.” Logan: “That’s not important. What’s important is… I have no feelings for you anymore.” “You’re lying to me,” Zachary said, “I don’t believe you don’t like me anymore.” Hearing these words, Logan couldn’t help but laugh. Yes, I don’t believe it either, that I wouldn’t like you anymore, but do you really like me? “What don’t you believe? You will eventually be with the person you like, and I will meet someone else, confess, fall in love, and spend a lifetime together. In a person’s life, they will meet many people and forget many people. You and I are just a part of each other’s life journeys.” “Even if we walked hand in hand for many years, were happy, and… loved,” Logan hesitated, then said softly, “But now we’ve separated.” “Zachary, let’s part on good terms—” “To hell with parting on good terms!” Zachary kicked the coffee table hard, a harsh and loud scraping sound making his anger seem so real. To be fair, Zachary was actually a person with quite a good temper. In all the years Logan had been with him, he had rarely seen him lose his temper. Zachary took several deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm himself down, “Logan, even if we break up, shouldn’t you give me a reason? Have I, Zachary, wronged you in any way? You say nothing and unilaterally break up. I don’t agree, and you move out while I’m not home. When I go to find you, you shut me out. Even if I did something wrong, shouldn’t you give me a chance to explain?” “But you didn’t. You just stubbornly insisted on your own thoughts. That’s fine too. I thought maybe you wanted to be apart for a while, change your mood, and you would come back one day. In these six months, how many times have I asked you to get back together? And how did you answer me?” “If it wasn’t ‘fuck off,’ it was ‘impossible.’ Logan, I really want to know, what exactly did I do that made you detest me so much?” Logan listened quietly, showing no reaction. When he heard Zachary ask, he coldly said, “You did nothing wrong.” Zachary was amused by his anger, “I did nothing wrong, so why did you break up?” Logan no longer looked at him, but stared at the oranges that had fallen to the ground, slowly saying, “I just… don’t love you anymore, Zachary.” The large living room suddenly fell silent. Logan could even hear his own heartbeat in his chest. After who knows how long, maybe a second, maybe ten minutes, Zachary suddenly laughed, breaking the room’s silence. “If that’s the case, I really didn’t do anything wrong.” Zachary ignored Logan and walked straight to the door. Logan stood in place, only daring to look up at him when Zachary reached the door. Logan silently opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to call out to him, but ultimately didn’t make a sound. “Logan,” Zachary had already opened the door but stopped and turned around to call out. Logan met his gaze, not speaking, just waiting for his next words. Zachary shook his head, ultimately not continuing.

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My husband’s first love has the same diamond ring on her ring finger as I do. I opened my mouth, ready to demand a divorce. “But the supercar you ordered will be delivered next month,” Ethan said casually. I swallowed the word “divorce” back down.I clenched my fists, the word “divorce” sliding back down my throat like a bitter pill. I could endure this, just a little longer, for the car that would be mine, but only until next month. “I bought a cute little bunny outfit. Make sure you’re home early tonight, honey,” I said, flashing him a smile. Ethan leaned down and kissed me on the lips. “Of course, babe. I can’t wait to see your little bunny outfit.” I saw Lily White’s latest Instagram story: “Finally back in the States, everything feels so familiar.” The post was accompanied by a photo taken at a Starbucks in Manhattan. But what caught my eye was the hand peeking out from the bottom right corner of the photo—a pale, slender hand with long fingers, wearing the same ring as mine. Ethan was there with her. I couldn’t believe it. Lily had barely returned, and he couldn’t wait to rush over to see her. I got out of the Jacuzzi in our Malibu beach house and began my usual skincare routine. Thanks to Ethan’s hard work over the years, I’ve enjoyed the life of a pampered princess. But now that his first love is back, it looks like my reign is coming to an end. Might as well enjoy it while I can. I was sure I’d be alone tonight, but as I drifted off to sleep, a warm body slipped into bed beside me… The next morning, I woke up, lying flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. Divorce! I need to divorce him, or I’ll be dead before I hit thirty! I reached out for my phone to check the time—11 a.m. Typical Ethan. “You’re awake? Stop lying around and get up for breakfast!” Ethan called, opening the door. He was still wearing the black apron I had bought him, looking every bit like a doting househusband. Ugh, where’s the tough CEO I married?

“How come you have time today?” I asked, looking at the meticulously prepared meal on the table. A thought crossed my mind—guilt. Is he making this fancy breakfast because he feels guilty about something with Lily? “I just finished up a big project, thought I’d take a break.” Yeah, right! He just wants to relax because his precious Lily is back in town. Workaholics like him don’t just decide to “take a break.” Ethan placed a piece of fish on my plate. “Eat up, you need to keep your strength up.” Ugh, you scoundrel! I glared at him before burying my face in my food, deciding not to say anything more. After breakfast, I lounged on the couch, watching my favorite trashy romance drama, while Ethan sliced up some fruit and settled beside me, checking the stock market on his iPad. The drama on TV was so over-the-top that I couldn’t resist pulling out my phone to scroll through Instagram. That’s when I saw it trending:#Lily White Returns.# That’s right! Lily White, once a famous natural beauty in Hollywood, had left without a word to study abroad. Her fans were devastated. Sure enough, the comments under the trending topic were flooded with her fans’ cheers: “Welcome back, Lily!” “Is Lily making a comeback? So excited!” “Finally, we get to see Lily more often!” I suddenly grew curious about Ethan’s reaction and turned to him. “Did you know Lily White is back?” “Oh, really? So what?” Ethan responded without much emotion. I snorted quietly. He’s such a good actor. If I hadn’t seen that Instagram story, he might have fooled me! That evening, Ethan’s friend Big Mike called. “Hey, sis! You and Ethan should come out tonight. My bar’s having its grand opening. I’m begging you to show up!” I looked over at Ethan, who was reading. “Why didn’t you call him directly?” I asked. “Because you’ve trained him well, sis! Ethan told me he’s a married man now, and he can’t go out at night without checking in with you first. Plus, it’s a bar—if you don’t approve, he won’t come.” What?! I almost believed I was some sort of control freak! I’ve never stopped him from going out before. I thought we were just going to show up to support his friend, but when we arrived, I was taken aback. Lily White was there too. “Sis, Ethan,” Big Mike led us to our seats. Noticing my gaze fixed on Lily, he quickly added, “That’s someone Evan Moore brought along. Apparently, she used to be a small-time actress.” Big Mike had known Ethan for years, so he had to be aware of Ethan and Lily’s history. Was he just pretending not to know? “Ethan, long time no see,” Evan Moore called from across the room, lounging on a sofa. I smiled and nodded in response. Our families had business dealings, so we knew each other fairly well. Ethan wrapped his arm around me and led us to the opposite end of the room, sitting as far from Lily as possible. I could tell he was a little upset. Hmm? Did they have a fight?

Sure enough, I caught him glancing at Lily multiple times. His face was set in a frown, and he barely acknowledged people who greeted him. What’s wrong? Seeing Lily with someone else bothers you that much? Ugh, you jerk. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling great either. Ethan and I grew up together—our families have been friends for ages. Later, I went abroad for college, and when I came back, I heard Ethan had a “first love.” It seems childhood sweethearts really can’t compete with fate, huh? After that, Lily left for some unknown reason, and Ethan turned around and proposed to me. At the time, my family was in a bit of a business crisis and needed a quick influx of cash, so I agreed to marry him. After we got married, Ethan was pretty good to me—whatever I wanted, I got. Even my mom said I was lucky to have married him; no one else could afford to keep up with my lifestyle. But now, looking at the situation, I’m starting to wonder if I really married the right person. I grabbed the glass of wine on the table and downed it in one go. The burn of the alcohol jolted me awake. This marriage has to end! “Why are you drinking so much?” Ethan grabbed my glass. “Feeling down?” “None of your business!” That drink was stronger than I thought, and soon I was feeling a bit tipsy, leaning into Ethan, my hands wandering under his shirt. Ethan grabbed my hand, his voice rougher than usual. “What do you think you’re doing?” “I’m just having a feel!” I wasn’t about to let him keep up this charade in front of his first love. No way! “Let’s go home.” Ethan didn’t hesitate, standing up and pulling me along, practically shoving me into the car. “You behave, or we’ll deal with this at home.” “I won’t, I won’t!” I kicked off my heels and sat in the passenger seat, pouting. “I’m warning you, don’t touch me, or I’ll… mmph.” I didn’t even finish my sentence before his burning lips were on mine, pinning me against the seat. Just then, I saw Lily and Evan walk past, getting into the same car together. Ah, I see now. Ethan was jealous and trying to get Lily’s attention by using me. On the drive back, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got, until finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” “You’re drunk,” he replied flatly. “I’m not.” The cold air had cleared my head, and I was more rational than ever, even sensing the car speed up. When we got home, I had barely stepped into the bathroom before Ethan was on me, kissing me like a madman. I might not have been entirely sober, but I found myself getting lost in his kiss. Our breaths grew heavier, and Ethan’s lips gently bit mine as he murmured, his words slurring together. “Stay away from Evan Moore from now on.” Evan? What does he have to do with this?

The next morning, Ethan was already at the office, and I was left lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like I had failed yet again to start my day right. My best friend Jessica called at the perfect time. “LV just got a new shipment. Let’s go check it out!” “No way, I’m not even out of bed yet.” Jessica’s voice turned teasing. “Someone’s living the good life, huh?” “Shut up! I’ve got real business to take care of today, let’s go another time.” Today, I was determined to talk to Ethan about the divorce! After breakfast, I drove to his office. Over the years, Ethan’s business had grown exponentially, and I hadn’t stepped foot in his company for a long time. Fortunately, the receptionist still recognized me. But she didn’t seem to know Lily. “Sorry, ma’am, but you need an appointment to see Mr. Carter. Without one, I can’t let you in.” Seeing Lily being shut down made me inwardly cheer. I strutted over, playing it cool. “Miss Chen, is Ethan in?” The receptionist immediately bowed deeply. “Yes, Mrs. Carter. The CEO said you could go straight up whenever you like. I’ll get the elevator for you.” I shot Lily a smug look as I started to walk away, but she suddenly called out, “Can we talk?” I pointed to the sofa by the window. “We can chat over there for a bit. I’m in a hurry.” Lily clenched her fists and, as soon as I sat down, blurted out, “You should divorce Ethan. He loves me.” “So what? I’m the one who’s Mrs. Carter now.” I leaned back on the sofa, casually showing off my figure. “I’m the only one who can go straight to the top floor without an appointment. You, on the other hand, will have to wait your turn.” “Why are you clinging to Ethan?” Lily’s forehead veins were practically popping out; she looked like she was about to attack me. “There are security guards everywhere, so you’d better not try anything. But if you want me to divorce Ethan, that’s not impossible.” Lily’s eyes flickered. “What do you want?” “Two million, and I’ll divorce him immediately.” Lily looked utterly shocked. I continued, “I know it’s tough out there in showbiz, so let’s make it five million, and I’ll tell the press we split amicably. Seven million, and I’ll even claim we’ve been having issues for a long time.” “Your choice,” I said, grinning. “You’re shameless!” Lily spat. “Is money all you care about? How could you not appreciate someone as good as Ethan?” What kind of logic is that? “Do you need time to think it over? You’d better hurry, though, because if you don’t decide soon, I’ll raise the price. As soon as the money hits my account, I’ll start talking to Ethan about splitting our assets.” “You’re planning to take Ethan’s money when you divorce?” Of course!

Now it was my turn to be shocked. “Did studying abroad make you lose your mind? Why would I walk away with nothing? The seven million is to buy the end of our marriage, and I’ll make sure your reputation stays intact. But why wouldn’t I get half of what Ethan earned during our marriage?” “Why should you?” Lily practically jumped out of her seat in anger. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Ever heard of marital property?” “But you…” Lily hesitated before continuing. “But what have you ever done for Ethan? He’s been the one working hard all these years, while you just spend his money every day.” “Spending my husband’s money is my right!” I stood up and leaned in close, lowering my voice. “And who says I haven’t helped him? I’ve been taking care of his physical needs, haven’t I? Do you think I’ve been letting him sleep with me for free these past two years?” My back nearly breaks from all the time I spend in bed with him. Not getting some cash in return would be a total loss! Lily was still in shock, speechless, so I left her there and took the elevator up to the top floor. When I entered the office, Ethan was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, talking on the phone. His back was to me, tall and broad, with a narrow waist. To be honest, he was the perfect man—handsome, rich, a great cook, and amazing in bed. Sure, he might get a little too lively at night, but it was bearable. Too bad his heart wasn’t in it for me. “What brings you here?” Ethan hung up the phone and sat down. I cleared my throat, “Um, we need to talk about our…” “Oh, by the way, I have some news for you,” Ethan interrupted. “The supercar you’ve been eyeing will be delivered next month.” Supercar? “You mean the pink Lamborghini I saw at the dealership in Venice Beach? The one that’s one of only three in the world?” Ethan smiled and nodded. My eyes lit up. This is the kind of car that money can’t even buy! Ethan chuckled. “So, what were you about to tell me?” I was having an internal battle. If I leave Ethan, I definitely won’t get the car. He might even give it to Lily. I can’t take that kind of loss. Maybe I should hold off on the divorce until the car arrives? I smiled and walked around his desk, wrapping my arms around him. “Oh, nothing. I just missed you and wanted to see you. And about that car…” Ethan’s smile deepened as he pulled me onto his lap, one hand gently rubbing my waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my wife gets it. But what about a little reward?” We’ve been married for two years; I know exactly what he meant by that. For my supercar, I’m willing to do anything! “I bought a cute little bunny outfit. Come home early tonight, okay?” Ethan nodded, placing a kiss on my lips. “I can’t wait to see my little bunny tonight.” It took me two full days to piece myself back together, my spirit battered and bruised. Finally, after my best friend Jessica relentlessly hounded me, refusing to let me wallow in my misery, I begrudgingly agreed to go out shopping.

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I was once adored by many as the epitome of the perfect teacher, someone idealized like Eleanor. But the very student I was determined to help drugged me, and while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, calling out for my husband, he slipped his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he shamelessly bragged about it, spreading our intimate video far and wide. “What’s so special about Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” I fell from grace, from being praised by everyone to being dragged through the mud. Later, my husband divorced me, my parents endured the scorn of others, and I was fired from Jefferson High School. Unable to bear the online harassment, I jumped off the rooftop of the school. When I came back to life, it was the day that boy transferred into our class. 1 Once again, I stood on the podium in my senior year class, wearing a familiar Bohemian dress, my feet in white sandals, exuding grace. I was still that young, beautiful literature teacher. A new transfer student, who was economically disadvantaged, was assigned to our class today, his first day. The moment he walked in, everyone turned to look at him curiously, whispering. “Holy crap, how could someone be so ugly? My excitement just got doused.” “I’m not trying to bully the new guy, but he’s making me physically nauseous. Sorry, not sorry.” He hobbled in, with a noticeable limp on his left foot, his tanned face covered in acne scars, and a large, black mole the size of a nickel beneath his bulbous nose. “Hello everyone, I’m the new transfer student. Please take care of me.” At that moment, he greeted the class with a shy smile, but his gaze was fixed on me. I suddenly stopped breathing. Samuel Brooks—no matter how many lifetimes pass, I can never forget that name, the hatred simmering alongside my memories. In my previous life, I pitied him for being a low-income student, stood up to those who bullied him, bought him new clothes, and taught him how to carry himself with dignity. But on one stormy night, Samuel followed me as I walked home alone. I kindly let him in to escape the rain, only for him to secretly drug my water. I lay on the sofa to rest, groggily calling out for my husband as his trembling hands unbuttoned my shirt. But I lost consciousness, powerless to resist. The next day, I woke up covered in red and purple marks, panic-stricken. I reported it to the police immediately, but he had vanished without a trace. During the days Samuel was missing, I lived in constant fear. Until I saw the high-definition video circulating in every group chat, captioned: “Isn’t she Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” The woman in the video, being violated, gasping and sobbing for mercy, was me. The internet exploded with discussions, as earlier candid photos of me had gone viral, with netizens praising my “prom queen face,” my “Eleanor aura.” #Prom Queen Teacher Fakes Drunkenness To Seduce Student, unfit to be a teacher. He didn’t step forward to admit what he had done. Instead, he hid in the shadows, sending me an anonymous text: “Mrs. Anderson, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, and I’ll treat you well.” In the end, unable to endure the online harassment, I jumped off the Jefferson rooftop, desperate. I was three months pregnant at the time. I had fallen from being revered as Eleanor to plunging into endless torment. But now, as I stood on this three-foot podium again, looking down at the students, I knew the gears of fate were turning. This was my chance to save myself. He lifted his head, speaking in broken English: “The spring flows silently, the tree’s shade reflects the calm. Mrs. Hale, my name is Samuel Brooks, from the spring.” The class erupted in whispers. “Did you say that on purpose or by accident? Do you know our teacher’s name is Shades Hale?” He paused, then looked up at me with a bashful smile. 2 Our eyes met, and I shivered all over, forcing myself to calm down. After all, in this life, he knew nothing, and I could still stop everything from happening. “The new student is here. Who would like to sit with him?” Since he started school late, he was older than his peers, already twenty, and still looked unattractive. The class fell silent; no one wanted to be his desk partner. Just then, Clara Mitchell, the class president, volunteered. “Mrs. Hale, I’m the class president. It’s my duty to unite our classmates. I’ll sit with the new student.” Looking at Clara’s kind and righteous face, so much like my past self, I coldly said, “I heard you had a poor academic foundation before transferring. I’m worried you might hold Clara back. It’s better if you sit alone in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats without partners in the classroom, but I chose the most biased approach. He was puzzled, seemingly not expecting me to be so cold and even intentionally difficult. Samuel’s lips twitched slightly, murmuring to himself. “How could it be… Mrs. Hale looks so gentle. How could she discriminate against me too?” Every word he spoke sent chills down my spine. After finishing the lesson, I practically fled to the office, my back drenched in cold sweat. I drank a gulp of scalding tea, but felt nothing. My mind raced—should I resign now and avoid all this? Getting this teaching position hadn’t been easy; it took countless nights of studying late into the night. Senior year teachers weren’t allowed to switch classes, and I was responsible for students preparing for college entrance exams. Why should I give everything up because of him? I sat in a daze, my thoughts drifting until it was time to leave. Christopher Lane arrived to pick me up, waiting at the school entrance for half an hour. Seeing me come downstairs, he hurriedly opened the car door, pulling me into his arms. “Sweetheart, you’re not feeling well. Did something happen?” Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer and broke down in tears. My husband and I had a great relationship. In my past life, he divorced me temporarily to protect me from the online harassment, and we moved to another city under new identities. Later, seeing how much pain I was in, he even took a knife to find Samuel, only to have his grandmother shield him. Christopher was then outwitted and fell, never to rise again, in a pool of blood. Facing Christopher’s still-handsome face, I wiped away my tears and managed a smile. “It’s nothing, just not feeling well. Let’s go home.” Christopher, however, was deeply concerned, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a checkup. I couldn’t resist him. An hour later, the rushed blood test results came back—I was pregnant. It was at this moment that I realized I was already carrying Christopher’s child. When he discovered I was pregnant, Christopher joyfully picked me up and spun me around. “Sweetheart, this is amazing! We’re going to have our little baby!” “If it’s a girl, that would be perfect. I’ve always wanted a little Shades, just as beautiful and lovely as you.” I smiled through my tears, silently vowing. This time, I would protect this hard-won happiness. The next day, I went to teach as usual, though my voice was hoarse from the previous day, so I brought a voice amplifier. The sound was loud, drowning out all chaotic emotions. I didn’t look toward that corner but instead focused on teaching peacefully. A few days passed, and everything was calm. Until Thursday afternoon, after I had finished my last class and was heading back to the office, a few female students were supporting Samuel Brooks, blocking my path. He was evidently bullied, reeking of the bathroom, covered in bruises, and his limp even more pronounced. But I knew that this pitiful appearance was just a mask hiding his twisted nature. He was strong, yet never fought back, letting the bullies have their way with him. His fingernails were long, filled with grime, and his left hand was a bloody mess, with a chunk of skin missing from his index finger. The wound was terrifying. “Mrs. Hale, Samuel’s been bullied. His finger got smashed, and a piece of skin came off. What should we do?” The girls in my class were full of righteousness, standing up for him. Samuel looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunching up in pain, making his oily face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Hale…” I didn’t want to care and asked the students to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. But the class representative, Emma Parker, urgently called out to me. “Mrs. Hale, I remember you have a first-aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Could you bandage him up first?” I stopped, looking at his pleading eyes and the blood still flowing from his finger. Just then, the class bell rang urgently. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, come with me. The rest of you go back to class.” Samuel’s lips curled into a barely noticeable, cunning smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty during class time. I casually opened the first-aid kit, taking out alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down. I’ll bandage you up.” At that moment, the wind blew the curtains, causing the seashell wind chime by the window to sway gently. I carefully and gently stopped the bleeding for him. As I looked at him, his face suddenly turned red. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Mrs. Hale, you… you’re so beautiful.” Samuel’s face flushed as he blurted out the compliment, his eyes suddenly fixated on my collarbone. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and plunged his entire finger into the alcohol bottle. The exposed flesh of his finger, raw and deep enough to see the bone, was firmly submerged in the nearly full medical alcohol. “You need to be good and cooperate with the disinfection, okay?” He was terrified, trying to pull away, his face contorting in pain. “It hurts, Mrs. Hale, it really hurts!” But I continued smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, refusing to let go. The narrow bottle neck almost suctioned his finger inside. Until the alcohol turned red with blood. He bit his lip until it bled, his eyes bulging, staring at me in utter shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes. 3 But what he didn’t know was that in this life, I would be kind and gentle to everyone, but an absolute monster to him. Due to the severity of his injury, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. In the following days, Samuel attended class with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in literature class, always raising his hand to answer questions, but I ignored him every time. Even when he won first place in the school coding competition, bringing honor to our class, I didn’t say a word. His eyes, once full of hope, gradually grew dim. He finally came to me, asking: “Mrs. Hale, why can’t I earn your approval, no matter how hard I try?” I slowly swiveled in my chair, not even looking at him. If pity and compassion had brought betrayal in the past, then in this life, I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I could protect myself. “Because you’re not worthy. Some things can’t be changed by effort alone, just like your disgusting heart, which is far uglier than your appearance.” Even now, I felt justified in saying these words. Just a few days ago, on my way home from work, I had caught him torturing a stray cat. When I found the poor kitten, it had already been scalded to death with boiling water. He smiled and said, “That little white cat was so arrogant. It scratched me. How can a cat be more valuable than a person?” At that moment, Samuel looked at me with hatred, his hand clenched tightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the head of teaching, Mr. Thompson, noticed and frowned, reminding me: “Mrs. Hale, as a teacher, you must treat all students equally. You shouldn’t be too harsh on any one student, especially those who need more care.” But I didn’t hold back, and right in front of Samuel, I said: “What’s so special about him? He has two hands and two feet and is mentally sound. If I give him special treatment, how is that fair to the other students?” He began to hate me, spreading rumors about my private life, claiming I was having an affair with the principal. But when he saw me in person, he still forced a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, Samuel donned a shabby coat and ripped jeans, standing out from everyone else. I heard that his parents died when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him like a treasure. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I received the Outstanding Teacher Award at the city level, a double blessing. I had a great relationship with my students; this was a job I truly loved. Several students pooled their money to buy me a grand bouquet of vibrant flowers, which I accepted with a smile. “Clara, Emma, you two made it into the top ten in the whole grade on the midterms. You’ve always wanted to sit together, right? I didn’t allow it before because I was worried you’d talk too much and neglect your studies. But now, I’m okay with it.” “Lucas, you did well in literature this time. Why not spend a little less time on math and science and memorize more poems? Extra points are nice, aren’t they?” As I was chatting with the students, I noticed an uninvited guest in the crowd. Samuel had also come to give me flowers. Whether by accident or on purpose, he handed me a mangled white rose, the petals bruised and oozing sap. “Mrs. Hale, I saved my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please don’t dislike it.” He handed the flower to me with hope in his eyes. But I dropped my smile, and in front of all the teachers and students in the office, I pulled out a tissue, picked up the flower, and threw it on the floor, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Dirty.” Samuel’s lips trembled, but he silently bent down to pick up the flower and walked away. The gloomy look in his eyes sent chills down my spine. But I didn’t turn back because I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He was used to targeting those weaker than himself while fearing those who were stronger. 4 Christopher Lane had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had also learned a few moves for self-defense. When I got home, my husband was waiting for me with a large bouquet of blooming roses, his voice soft and tender. “Happy birthday, my dear, my exceptional Mrs. Hale!” Even though I was happy, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of melancholy. Sure enough, during our candlelit dinner, Christopher mentioned that he had an opportunity to study abroad. “This is an important chance for my career, honey. It’s crucial for my promotion. But it means I won’t be able to take care of you for the next two months,” he sighed. My firm refusal caught him off guard. I knew he wouldn’t believe in something like reincarnation, so I said: “Honey, I had a dream the other day. In it, you left, and someone broke into our home and tortured me. You tried to avenge me with a knife, but were killed instead.” “We lost everything, our family shattered, and the culprit walked away free.” “How could that happen? We live in a society governed by law. Are you feeling a bit off lately?” he asked, worriedly taking my hand. In the end, with my persistent persuasion, Christopher reluctantly decided to stay, giving up the study opportunity out of concern for me. I didn’t want to hold him back from his career, but that stormy night was approaching. The night when Samuel would break into our home, leading to tragedy. Even though I had treated him differently this time, I couldn’t prevent fate’s cruel joke. I clearly remembered it was a Friday. Samuel followed me after school, begging me to let him in to escape the rain. But tonight, Christopher was delayed by traffic and couldn’t get home in time. After several unanswered calls, I grew irritated. Soon, Christopher texted me. “Sweetheart, there’s been an accident due to the rain. The highway is blocked, and I can’t get back. They won’t let us use our phones. Just go to bed without me.” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock on the door. The rain grew heavier, drowning out my troubled thoughts. My previously tense nerves finally relaxed, and I felt a wave of drowsiness, my body sticky with cold sweat. I decided to take a shower and go to bed. The hot water felt soothing against my skin. In the bathroom, my slender figure was reflected in the mirror, my lips pink, my nose delicate, my almond-shaped eyes wide and bright, with long, curled lashes that gave me a touch of allure. I gently stroked my still-flat belly. Christopher always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our child would surely be a little gem. Lost in thought, I picked up a towel to dry off the water. Suddenly, through the foggy mirror, a shadowy face appeared, hobbling toward me. It was Samuel Brooks! A wave of terror washed over me—how could this be? This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked the code to my door. In the past life, when I let him in to escape the rain, he had seen my home’s password. This time, to avoid bad luck, I had changed the lock and even installed a reinforced security door. Only Christopher and I could open it with our fingerprints. Had all my precautions failed to escape the grip of fate? A cold, muddy hand reached out. I gasped, my waist suddenly grabbed tightly, another hand sliding up. “Mrs. Hale, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Could you… hold me?”

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On the day my husband ascended the throne, he granted me the title of Alexandra, the Imperial Consort. He declared that I was the one who held his heart. Yet within the opulent walls of this palace, I was not alone. Zarah Bourbon, Wilma Spencer, and countless other beauties vied for his affection, each one a delicate flower in the garden of his desires. But his heart—his heart was like a durian, spiked and impenetrable, with a different woman perched precariously on every thorn. When James Windsor announced the decree to crown the Chancellor’s daughter as Queen, I was in the palace playing cards with the other concubines. The maids brought the news, and the other three women froze, their eyes fixed on me in disbelief. But I just kept playing, eating snaps like nothing had changed. “What are you all gawking at? It’s the dealer’s turn!” I said with a cheerful smile. Wilma Spencer, clearly distracted, drew a card and played it clumsily. But she couldn’t hold back and finally asked, “Alexandra, are you… alright?” “It’s always been like this. If it weren’t the Chancellor’s daughter, it would have been someone else.” I hesitated for a moment before replying. Under their admiring gazes, I smiled even more brightly, as if I were genuinely happy for James, completely unfazed. Soon, the grand wedding of the Emperor and the new Queen took place. James gave her great honor. The city was adorned, and all the provinces sent congratulatory messages. I gazed at the magnificent Queen Hall, and James’s words from our wedding echoed in my ears: “Alexandra, I will never betray you in this lifetime. Only with you by my side can I truly be happy.” But in the end, he demoted me from queen to consort, allowing another to take the primary position. The new Queen was only sixteen years old. When the concubines paid their respects to her, she ordered everyone to rise, except for me. The young girl, full of youthful vigor, her phoenix hairpin dazzlingly bright, looked at me with disdain: “So, you’re Alexandra Hemming? The King’s first wife?” She emphasized the word “first” heavily, intending to humiliate me. My expression remained unchanged as I lowered my head. “Your Majesty, I dare not presume. It’s just an old, irrelevant matter, not worth your concern.” “It’s good that you know your place. You were merely fortunate to meet the King in his troubled times, and yet you managed to become an Imperial Consort.” She seemed pleased by my submission and continued to speak more freely, “Born into a lowly merchant family, no wonder the King wouldn’t let you raise the Crown Prince. Imagine if he were tainted by your vulgarity!” Her words done, and the room fell silent. My nails dug into my palm, but before I could speak, James entered, fresh from court. He was strikingly handsome, and the young ladies blushed at the sight of him. The new Queen, Wilma Spencer, ran to him, clinging to his arm with a coquettish tone: “Your Majesty, Alexandra was disrespectful to me.” I didn’t look at James, keeping my gaze lowered as I awaited my punishment. The new Queen’s family was powerful and influential. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, protect me. I felt his gaze linger on me for a long time before I heard him say, “Alexandra was indeed wrong to disrespect the Queen. She will be confined to Windsor Palace for half a month to reflect on her actions.” I accepted the decree with thanks, my forehead hitting the floor so hard it turned red. Rising under the sympathetic gazes of the other concubines, I walked back to Windsor Palace, one step at a time. The palace gates were locked. I dismissed the servants and sat alone on the swing in the courtyard. Gently swinging my feet, I seemed to return to the past. The days when we were newlyweds, full of love and affection. There was a time when James and I shared moments of pure joy, where laughter echoed through the halls and the world seemed ours alone. But time, relentless and unforgiving, slipped through my fingers like grains of sand, and no matter how tightly I tried to hold on, I couldn’t keep him.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye, and the gates of Windsor Palace finally reopened. James walked in, seeing me reading. He sat down beside me. “Alex…” I ignored him, he forcibly pulled me into his arms, taking the book from my hands. “Look at me.” “Alex, must we be like this? I’ve just ascended the throne, and my position is unstable. This is the time I need the support of the ministers the most. Can’t you endure a little longer for my sake?” James’s voice was filled with frustration, and finally, even a hint of grievance. I looked up at him, my gaze cold. “James, I’ve been enduring ever since you were brought back from Sunningdale and titled King of Lennon.” “I endured when you took those noblewomen as concubines. I endured when you took my newborn child and gave him to Zarah Bourbon to raise. I endured when you married your new wife with her illustrious background and demoted me to consort. What more do you want me to endure?” My questions forced him to release me. The pain in my heart came in waves, and now, all I felt for him was deep disappointment. For ten years, I was bound to him in marriage. In the early days, when our love was a blazing fire, we welcomed our daughter, Anne Windsor, into the world. But as the years passed and he ascended to the throne, the weight of his crown settled between us. In the midst of his newfound power and the establishment of his royal household, our son, Johnny Windsor, was born—a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable, now strained under the demands of a kingdom. Johnny was only three days old when Zarah suffered a miscarriage shortly after entering the King’s household. Her constant despair displeased her family, so without consulting me, James handed Johnny over to Zarah to raise. My child, whom I had labored over in pain for a day and night, was taken from me while I lay weak and unconscious. Now, he only recognizes Zarah as his mother. When he learned to speak, walk, and call for his mother, I was like a stranger, a mere observer of someone else’s happiness. … I couldn’t bear to think of those painful memories any longer. I pulled away from his embrace, moving far from him. “James, let’s just set each other free. Perhaps then we could both find some happiness.” His eyes reddened as he looked at me. The tension was broken by a timid, childish voice, “Mother, I’m hungry…” It was Anne, who had returned from playing outside. At six years old, she hid behind the curtains, peeking out with wide eyes at James and me, watching us argue. I forced a smile, gently stroking her head. “The egg custard has been simmering in the small kitchen, just waiting for my little foodie. Why don’t you go wash your hands with Nanny first?” She nodded enthusiastically, then hesitated, glancing between James’s stern face and mine. Finally, she tugged at my clothes, “Mother, Father hasn’t visited in a long time. Can you stop arguing, please?” My heart sank, and James’s expression also stiffened. When Anne was born, he wasn’t the King, nor was he the Duke of Lennon. I wasn’t just another consort in his vast harem; I was his only wife. That’s why Anne always called him Father. James softened his expression and hugged Anne. “Be good, Anne. When you grow up, don’t be like your mother—ignorant of what’s proper and ungrateful!” After saying this, he gave me a glance before striding away. “Mother, what did Father mean?” Anne asked, frightened by his harsh tone and shrinking into my arms. “Nothing at all. Tell me, what did you and Nanny do in the Imperial Garden today? Tell me all about it.” I held her close, gently patting her back. Hearing this, she was easily distracted. “Mother, I met a new friend today. He’s amazing; he can fly…”

It seems that what I feared most has come true. When Wilma Spencer heard that James had visited me, she stormed into Windsor Palace with a group of maids and guards. “Alexandra Hemming, you miserable wretch!” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “You may be old and withered, but you still cling to power through your daughter, desperate for favor even now!” Wilma, towering above, glared down at me before barking at the guards, “Take Princess Anne to my residence!” Anne was seized by several hands, and after a moment of shock, she burst into tears, screaming for her “Mother.” I tried to stop them, but the maids bound my hands and feet, pressing me to the ground. “Mother? I am your rightful mother! She’s just a consort with no backing, you foolish girl!” Wilma sneered before sweeping out of the room, her yellow skirt trailing behind her. I hastily wiped away my tears and rushed to the State Hall. “What’s going on?” James, who was reviewing documents, frowned as he saw me disheveled and panicked. Desperate, I clung to his sleeve as if it were my lifeline. “James, please, let Wilma return Anne to me.” “Alex, I always wondered when you’d call me by my name again, but I never thought it would be for this.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, and I couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Anne is all I have left, James. Please, bring her back to me…” “Wilma just likes children. She’s only having Anne stay at Queen’s Hall for a while,” he said, cupping my face with both hands. “Besides, Alex, I should be your only concern, shouldn’t I?” “So, you knew she would take Anne?” He avoided my gaze, instead trying to pull me closer for a kiss. “Stop being stubborn, Alex. Stay here with me, and we can have more children together. Then you won’t have to withhold even a glance from me.” I felt a wave of nausea and raised my hand to slap him hard across the face. “James, you disgust me!” He was stunned by the slap, his gaze turning icy as his face hardened. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “Guards!” she commanded, her voice cold and imperious. “Lock Lady Alexandra in Windsor Palace. She is to be given only one meal a day, and no one is to attend to her needs. She will remain there in isolation until she confesses her sins and acknowledges her wrongdoing.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294585”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn