My elder sister married the man she longed for, Lord Charles. But on the night of the wedding, it was I who was sent into the bridal chamber. My sister wasn’t worried that I might reveal the truth because I was mute. What she didn’t know was that I was only pretending. “Do as I say, or your mother’s life won’t be spared.” Marianne tore off my outer robe and pushed me behind the screen. Today was her grand day, joining Lord Charles’s manor. I entered the manor with her as her dowry maid. Marianne, still in her bridal crown and gown, looked fierce, but it did not diminish her striking beauty. She drew out a razor-sharp dagger, its blade gleaming ominously as she pressed it against my cheek. I feigned terror, my mouth opening in a silent scream, my eyes wide with false fear. Marianne’s smile twisted into something dark and wicked, a glint of malevolence dancing in her eyes. “Tonight is your wedding night. Serve Lord Charles well. If you please me, your future will be filled with riches.” Marianne had long admired Lord Charles but sent me to his bed because she was no longer chaste. She had an affair with a guard in our manor. When the secret was exposed, her mother had the guard poisoned to cover up the scandal. But the damage was done; Marianne was no longer a virgin. To avoid Lord Charles’s rejection, she chose me as her dowry maid. I was her half-sister, and our figures were similar enough that she believed she could deceive him. Marianne’s threats were not just empty words. “If you slip up, I’ll break your legs and sell you off! And don’t think your mad mother will survive, either!” I bit my lip, nodded with a frightened expression, and Marianne withdrew the dagger, leaving me to wait behind the screen. Soon after, the door to the chamber was flung open with a violent crash. Lord Charles, tall and imposing in his crimson wedding attire, stormed in. I stayed hidden, not daring to make a sound. Marianne obediently sat on the bed, but Lord Charles only glanced at her briefly before turning away to pour himself a cup of tea. Marianne quickly took the cup, secretly adding a pinch of powder she had hidden in her nails. It was an aphrodisiac she had acquired. Lord Charles drank the tea, and soon his face flushed, and his breathing became labored. He glared at Marianne with anger. “What did you give me?” Marianne feigned innocence. “Oh, this… it’s just something an old nanny from home gave me. She said it would enhance the wedding night… I didn’t know what it was…” Lord Charles angrily smashed the cup, causing Marianne to jump in fright. “You dare give me such a vile substance? I’m strong enough without needing such poison! Are you afraid I won’t tire you out?” After his outburst, his condition worsened. His eyes became bloodshot, and his breathing turned more ragged. Marianne was overjoyed, pretending to apologize as she guided him to the bed and blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness. All that could be heard was Lord Charles’s heavy breathing. Marianne yanked me from behind the screen, her grip merciless as she hurled me onto the bed with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. Lord Charles moved swiftly, wrapping his strong arms around my waist with a desperate, almost frantic urgency. I found myself sprawled atop him, his powerful, masculine scent enveloping me in an intoxicating haze. Without a word, he seized the back of my head, pulling me close as his hot lips crashed against mine. The intensity of his kiss was both consuming and overwhelming. I gasped in shock as the fabric of my clothes was torn apart, the sound of ripping fabric mingling with the pounding of my heart.

As dawn’s first light seeped through the curtains, I trembled uncontrollably as I struggled to climb out of bed. Lord Charles lay beside me, still fast asleep, his breaths deep and steady. My eyes fell to my legs, where dried blood marred my skin—a dark, cruel stain that seemed to slice into my heart with every glance. The memories of the previous night haunted me. Marianne’s scheme had left Lord Charles furious, and he vented all his anger on me, mistaking me for Marianne. He showed no mercy, and despite gritting my teeth, I couldn’t suppress my cries of pain. Marianne was the one who caused all this, yet I had to bear it all. I clenched my fists. These wounds were nothing compared to my mother’s life. I blinked hard, forcing back my tears. Gathering my scattered clothes, I struggled to dress myself. I shakily left the room. In the hall, Marianne stirred from her nap on a chaise lounge. Her eyes narrowed at me with a venomous glare, and she spat out a single word: “Get out!” Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to walk out the door. Returning to the servants’ quarters, I heated water to wash my body. As I undressed, I noticed a jade bracelet with gold inlay on my left arm. I vaguely remembered Lord Charles placing it on me after taking my virginity, saying something about it being a token. If Marianne saw this, it would spell trouble. I tried to remove it, but it was stuck. Frustrated, I decided to leave it on and hide it under my clothes until I could quietly return it to Marianne later. Marianne got what she wanted. Lord Charles didn’t realize that it was someone else who had shared the bridal bed with him. I thought she would live happily with him from then on. But the day after the wedding, Lord Charles was sent to the Southern Territories to quell a rebellion. Marianne and the Dowager Duchess led the family to see him off. Standing at the back of the crowd, I watched indifferently as Lord Charles, clad in armor, was surrounded by well-wishers. The Dowager Duchess was giving him some final advice, and Marianne whispered a few words of concern. Lord Charles’s lieutenant brought his horse, and a tall, imposing woman accompanied him. The woman greeted the Dowager Duchess cheerfully. “Aunt!” The Dowager Duchess nodded. I had heard of this woman before. Her name was Sarah Lane, Lord Charles’s sworn sister and the orphaned daughter of a comrade of the old Duke. She was accompanying Lord Charles on this campaign. I noticed Marianne’s face change instantly when she saw Sarah. Marianne was jealous by nature, and now with Lord Charles away at war, she must have been filled with anxiety over this beautiful woman by his side. Lord Charles was away for over a month when Marianne, under the pretext of visiting her mother, returned to the Moore family estate. When I got home, I found out that my mother had been sent to a remote estate in the countryside. There, she suffered from hunger and cold. I was distraught but had no way to help. One day, while I was making up Marianne’s bed, I overheard her and Lady Lydia talking outside. They were speaking in hushed tones, but I have good hearing. Marianne said, “Lord Charles will be in the Southern Territories for at least a year. If Sarah Lane takes this chance to seduce him, where will I stand when they return?” Lady Lydia replied, “You can’t just sit idly by. You need to secure your position before Lord Charles comes back!” Marianne, panicked, asked, “What can I do? With Lord Charles away, even the Dowager Duchess treats me coldly. She is not Lord Charles’s real mother. Her own son just came of age, and she filled his house with concubines. I bet that old woman is hoping for Lord Charles to die in battle so that her son can inherit the title!” “Don’t talk nonsense! Lord Charles will come back safe and sound!” Lady Lydia then suggested, “But there are things we must be cautious of. Since you’ve consummated the marriage, why not play the trick of ‘flowers blooming on the tree’…”

Marianne asked, “Flowers blooming on the tree? What do you mean?” Lady Lydia whispered a few words, her lips moving with calculated precision. I could make out her message: “You can pretend to be pregnant. If Lord Charles returns early, you can say you had a miscarriage. If he takes longer to come back, we’ll bribe a midwife to find a chubby boy and claim him as your own. And if… Lord Charles never returns, having a son by your side will protect you from that old woman.” Marianne’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Mother, you always have the best ideas!” I held my breath and slowly backed away from the door. My hand instinctively drifted to my lower abdomen.My period had been late, and I had already suspected what it meant. Lord Charles’s bloodline had taken root within me. I knew that if this child was born, it would not belong to me. I couldn’t just sit and wait for my fate to be sealed. I knew what Marianne feared most. In that instant, I had a plan. Back at Lord Charles’s manor, I deliberately changed into a brightly colored dress and stood in the garden, tending to flowers. Voices and footsteps approached from the corridor behind me, but I pretended not to hear. A clear male voice called out, “Sister-in-law?” Startled, I turned to see Henry, Lord Charles’s younger brother, accompanied by two beautiful maidservants. When Henry saw my face, his eyes widened with surprise. I knew this was the path he always took to return to his quarters. I made sure to act frightened, bowing to him gracefully. Henry hesitated, asking, “You’re not my sister-in-law? Why do you look so much like her from behind?” One of the maids answered, “This is the Lady Marianne’s dowry maid, Clara.” Henry pondered for a moment, “Clara?” The other maid added, “Clara is mute, young master. Please don’t take offense.” Henry’s expression softened with pity. He gently said, “Clara, the wind is strong here. If you want to pick flowers, you can come to my garden.” I shook my head and quickly bowed, then turned and ran away. — That night, I brought hot water into the room to help Marianne wash her face and hands. She glared at me and suddenly knocked the copper basin out of my hands. Hot water splashed all over me, and I yelped in pain, immediately kneeling before her. Marianne grabbed my chin with her sharp nails, forcing me to look up at her. She smiled coldly, devoid of any warmth. “Clara, you’re quite cunning. Young Master Henry only looked at you once today and went to beg his mother to have you sent to his quarters.” I made desperate hand gestures, trying to show her that I had done nothing wrong. Marianne slapped me hard, sending me sprawling to the floor. She was furious, cursing like a shrew, “You little wench! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to! You think you can latch onto young Master Henry and rise above me? As long as I’m here, you’ll never outshine me!” Her reaction was exactly as I had predicted. I noticed the pen and ink on the desk. I quickly crawled over, grabbed the pen, and wrote a line on the paper: “I beg you, Sister, please send me away so I can reunite with my mother.” Marianne eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to leave?” I nodded fervently, then wrote five more words: “Please, Sister, grant my wish.” I knew Marianne had always been wary of me, and now that I was of no more use to her, she wouldn’t keep me around to steal her spotlight. After a moment’s thought, she agreed on the spot. “Fine, since you’re so filial, I’ll grant your wish.” I pretended not to notice the malice in her eyes and knelt to thank her. — The next day, I packed a few belongings and boarded the carriage Marianne had arranged for me. The driver was a thin, wiry man who had eyed me lewdly before I got in. After half a day’s journey, he pulled the carriage into a forest, saying the horse needed a rest. I sat under a tree, clutching my bundle. The man approached me with a bowl of water, pretending to be kind. “Miss, you must be tired. Have some water.” I waved him off and stood to walk away. He followed, grabbing my arm. I pushed him away, spilling the water. His demeanor changed instantly, and he growled, “You’ll regret refusing my kindness!”

He threw the bowl aside and lunged at me. I dodged. The man rubbed his chin with a lecherous grin and said, “Little beauty, Lady Marianne ordered me to kill you. It would be a shame for a pretty face like yours to just die like that. Why not have a little fun with me before you go?” He pursued me like a cat playing with a mouse. “Be a good girl, and maybe I’ll be gentle. But if you make me angry, you’ll suffer even more!” I quickly reached into my clothes and pulled out a packet of powder. When he got close enough, I threw the powder into his face. It was red pepper powder, and it blinded him instantly. “Aaahhh—! Cough, cough…” He clutched his face, coughing violently, rolling on the ground in pain. I may have pretended to be stupid, but I wasn’t. I knew Marianne had no intention of letting me go. She wanted me dead. Thankfully, I was prepared. While he was still writhing in pain, I rushed to the carriage, climbed up, and drove the horse out of the forest. When I reached the estate where my mother was, it was still midday. I didn’t wait for Marianne to get word; I found my mother and took her away immediately. The servants were confused and tried to stop us, but my mother had a fit, scratching and biting them. The overseer cursed us, “Get lost! If you want to go, then go!” I dragged my mother onto the carriage and headed north. Only when we were on the rough mountain roads did I finally relax. We had escaped Marianne’s control! I had saved my mother! Looking back at her in the carriage, I cried tears of joy. I sobbed, “Mother, we’re free from the Moore family. I don’t have to pretend to be mute anymore, and you don’t have to pretend to be insane!” My mother, with her disheveled hair, hugged me tightly, and we wept together. My mother was a healer. She was taken as a concubine by my father after he spotted her during one of her medical visits. My father’s first wife, Lady Lydia, had a face like a saint but a heart like a viper. She treated my mother kindly on the surface but tormented her in secret. She even had my mother’s first two sons killed. I survived only because I was a girl. At first, my father protected my mother, but after his affections waned, he abandoned her. Lady Lydia continued to torment her, so my mother feigned madness to protect herself. When I was ten, I was in the courtyard, learning to sing from the maids. My father and Marianne passed by, and he praised my voice, saying it was as sweet as a nightingale’s song. That night, Lady Lydia had her servants hold me down and forced me to drink a potion that took away my voice. Marianne watched, laughing, saying that the nightingale had had its beak cut off. After they left, my mother secretly found an antidote, saving my voice, though it was never as sweet as before. My mother warned me to hide my talents if I wanted to survive. From then on, I pretended to be mute, never speaking a word to anyone but her. Now, my mother and I had finally escaped the den of vipers. I wiped away her tears and vowed, “Mother, we can never go back to the Moore family!” My mother nodded tearfully. “We should go to your aunt. Five years ago, she sent word that she had married and was living in a place called ‘Clearbrook Town.’” After much inquiry, we finally arrived at Clearbrook Town two weeks later. We found my aunt’s home, only to be told she had become a nun.

It turned out that my aunt’s husband had died of a plague three years ago. She had no children and was not welcomed by her in-laws. With no one to rely on, she had cut her hair and become a nun. We found her at St. Margaret’s Abbey. My aunt had taken the name Sister Clarice, and because of her knowledge and manners, she was appointed as the abbey’s treasurer. My aunt and my mother hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, and they couldn’t stop crying when they reunited. After they had poured their hearts out, my mother explained why we had come. When my aunt learned that I was pregnant, she begged the abbess to let us stay in a small cottage near the abbey. The cottage was old but clean and tidy. My aunt told us, “The abbess said that over forty years ago, a young noblewoman who had fallen on hard times lived here. She met a gentleman in the mountains, and they fell in love at first sight. The lady left with him but continued to send donations to the abbey every few years.” I worriedly asked, “If the lady finds out we’re staying in her cottage, will she be angry?” My aunt smiled. “Don’t worry. That lady is over sixty now, and she’s a kind-hearted woman who’s devoted to the church. She’d be happy to know that her old home is sheltering those in need.” With my aunt’s reassurance, my mother and I settled in. We planted vegetables and herbs in the garden, occasionally selling some herbs in the nearby village for a bit of money. Life was hard, but we were content and free— — Four years later Autumn had just begun, with the sun’s warmth giving way to a cool breeze. My mother had gone to the village, and I was in the garden with my daughter, Rose, drying herbs. Rose pointed to the herbs in the basket, naming them one by one. “Forsythia, Salvia, Angelica, Astragalus…” I patted her head, praising her. “Rose, you’re so clever. You remembered all of them.” My son, James, was playing nearby, chasing a rabbit with a stick. I warned him while tending to the herbs, “James, don’t run around too much. Be careful not to trample on Grandma’s perilla.” James ignored my warning and carried the rabbit outside the gate, still playing with it. I glanced up to see he hadn’t gone far, so I didn’t call him back. James’s laughter echoed as I divided my attention between the children and the herbs. Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the clinking of jewelry. I put down the herbs and went to the gate to see what was happening. A group of finely dressed travelers was approaching, led by my aunt, Sister Clarice, and the abbess, Sister Helena. They were accompanying an elderly woman with silver hair and a rosy complexion. The old lady looked kind and noble. Following behind her was a large group of people, some of whom I recognized, and it nearly made me lose my balance. It was the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles! The elderly woman at the front was none other than Duchess Victoria, Lord Charles’s grandmother! What were they doing here? Marianne and Lord Charles were the last people I wanted to see! I was paralyzed with fear when Duchess Victoria’s eyes lit up as she spotted James. “Oh, what a charming little boy!” she exclaimed. James set the rabbit down and folded his hands, greeting Sister Clarice and Sister Helena in a sweet voice, “Bless you.” The Duchess was delighted. She crouched down to play with James, exclaiming, “What a bright young boy! Who taught you this…” She trailed off, studying James’s face in surprise. “Oh my… this child… he looks just like Charles did when he was little!”

After the Duchess finished speaking, her lady-in-waiting, the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles all gathered around. I held my breath, feeling a chill run down my spine. Everyone started talking at once. The lady-in-waiting said, “Those eyes and that face shape—he really looks just like Lord Charles when he was a child.” The Dowager Duchess agreed, “Her Grace has a sharp eye. He does look remarkably similar…” Marianne forced a laugh. “What a coincidence…” The Duchess, delighted, took James’s hand. “What a sweet child. Where are your parents?” Snapping out of my fear, I realized I couldn’t hide any longer. I forced myself to calm down. Lord Charles and the Dowager Duchess were such high-ranking nobles that they wouldn’t remember someone as insignificant as me. As for Marianne, as long as I denied everything, what could she do in front of all these people? I stepped forward and called out, “James, have you had enough fun? Come back inside and rest.” I watched everyone’s reactions closely. Lord Charles remained calm, but the Duchess and Dowager Duchess looked confused. Marianne, on the other hand, was so shocked that she couldn’t close her mouth. Hearing me speak must have stunned her. James ran into my arms, calling me “Mother.” My aunt then explained to the Duchess, “Your Grace, this is Miss Marianne, who has been staying in your cottage.” It turned out that the noblewoman who had lived here forty years ago was the Duchess herself. The man she had met in the mountains was the late Emperor! I curtsied deeply to the Duchess. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace.” The Duchess smiled warmly. “Master Hyman mentioned that someone had been staying in my old cottage. I never expected it to be such a well-mannered young lady.” I offered a few polite words. “Your Grace’s compassion knows no bounds, blessing all who cross your path. It has been a great fortune for my family to have your protection.” The Duchess beamed and suggested going inside to take a look. A large crowd of people filled the already cramped courtyard. The ladies went inside while Lord Charles and a group of servants and guards stayed outside. Seeing Rose inside the house, the Duchess was even more pleased. She praised, “You’re very fortunate, Miss Marianne, to have such adorable children.” The Duchess immediately had her lady-in-waiting bring out gold coins as gifts for the children. I tried to refuse several times, but my aunt eventually persuaded me to accept. I then had the children bow and thank the Duchess. Marianne, standing nearby, made a snide remark, “Miss Marianne, your surname is Wyth? What a coincidence—there was a runaway servant in my family who also had that surname.” Wyth was my mother’s surname. I knew Marianne was suspicious, so I calmly replied, “Yes, quite the coincidence.” Marianne was about to say more, but the Dowager Duchess shot her a warning glare, and she reluctantly stepped back. The Duchess seemed to take a liking to me and took my hand, asking with concern, “Miss Marianne, why are you living in seclusion here with your children? Where is your husband?” I lowered my gaze and replied with a mix of truth and lies, “My husband joined the army years ago, and we’ve had no news from him since. My children and I had nowhere to go, but thanks to your generosity and Master Hyman’s kindness, we’ve been able to stay here.” As I spoke, Marianne’s expression darkened further. The Duchess, moved by my story, said, “Poor child, you’ve suffered so much. It must be fate that brought you and your children to my old home. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Overwhelmed by her kindness, I responded, “Thank you, Your Grace. Your compassion is truly boundless. Thanks to Master Hyman and the others, we’ve been well taken care of and have no troubles.” The Duchess continued to ask about our well-being, and Marianne couldn’t help but interject, “Your Grace, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should go and have our meal?” As soon as she spoke, the Dowager Duchess scolded her, “The Duchess will decide what we do. You should know your place. As a younger member, how dare you interrupt? Do you not understand the meaning of decorum?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294584”, 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

My twin sister attempted suicide and was hospitalized. The bullies followed her to the hospital, taunting her and blaming her for what happened. Later, I went to school wearing the same face as my sister. The bullies were thrilled, but I was even more so, because I was a born monster. The only person who could keep my darker thoughts in check was my sister. This was my sister’s second suicide attempt. Without a moment’s hesitation, our parents called the police, their voices tremulous with fear and desperation. Yet, even in the face of the officers’ stern questioning, the main bully remained insufferably smug. “Why are you accusing me of bullying her? Maybe she was bullying me!” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction. “Yeah, my daughter is so gentle, she wouldn’t even hurt an ant.” I watched the mother and daughter pair lie through their teeth on the hospital’s surveillance camera. My sister, who had greeted the day with a bright smile, now lay pale and frail on the hospital bed, her spirit crushed. The girl named Tasha Zayne, her demeanor a twisted mix of arrogance and malice, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If she acts cheap, I’ll deal with her. Simple as that. What can you do? If you’re so tough, go ahead and lock me up!” After saying this, Tasha even stuck her tongue out at my sister, her expression a mask of unrepentant cruelty. There wasn’t a hint of remorse or fear in her eyes, Tasha’s mother met my mom’s gaze with disdain, quickly looking away. “Hmph, like mother, like daughter, they’re practically cut from the same cloth.” My mom let out a casual laugh. I knew she was angry. Michelle Lindh, one of Tasha’s loyal followers, found a twisted courage and turned her gaze toward my sister, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disgust and malice. “Slitting her wrists?” she sneered. “If she really wanted to die, she should have jumped from the 18th floor and made sure she splattered. What’s the point of slitting wrists if you can’t even die from it? I bet she’s just trying to scam us for money, right, Tasha?” “Hmph! She’s such a troublemaker” Tasha sneered. With insufficient evidence and since they were all minors, the incident ended with Tasha giving a half-hearted apology. At home, our little princess lay silently on the bed, completely lifeless, her body covered in wounds, big and small. My parents and I finally noticed something different. After a long silence, I said, “I’ll go to school in her place.” My parents understood what I intended to do. As I faced the mirror, the reflection that stared back at me was an eerie replica of my sister’s face.

My sister and I are twins, so identical that outsiders can never tell us apart. There were times when even our parents, who should have known us best, almost couldn’t distinguish between Naomi loves pink. All her school supplies and even her bedding are pink. As for me, I only love black. Mom often teased her with a wry smile, “Naomi, if you hadn’t come from my belly, I’d swear you were adopted.” Mom wasn’t entirely wrong. In our family, Naomi is the special one. She’s different from us, pure and kind by nature, and has been carefully protected by me and our parents. But I was born “sick,” a monster in the eyes of others, with only Naomi willing to play with me. For the safety of others, my parents kept me home to study. I didn’t mind because as long as Naomi was there, I never felt lonely. Our parents said Naomi was the family’s top priority. So, I’ve always protected her from the shadows. But we never imagined that after just a year of high school, she would end up like this. The doctor said we needed to take care of Naomi’s emotions. I stroked her forehead and whispered, “Naomi, I will avenge you.” Just then, a sudden phone ringtone broke the silence. Naomi’s face turned deathly pale, and she covered her ears, screaming. I took her phone and opened the message. It was a video showing Naomi being held under a faucet in the bathroom. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, and her face was flushed red from being choked by the water. The culprit stood to the side, laughing. “If I catch you talking to him again, I’ll slash your face. Let’s see how you can flirt with the boys in our class then!” The video ended with a warning from the bully. Fury surged through my chest, nearly overwhelming me. I closed my eyes and shut off the phone. Naomi’s teeth chattered, and it took her a while to stammer out, “They took a lot of videos of me without any clothes on.” I patted her head gently, looking at her with tenderness. “Do you trust your sister?” Naomi nodded. I walked out into the backyard and used a hoe to dig a new patch of soil. Soon, someone else would be joining us here. Curses rang out nearby. “You’ll all be struck by lightning! You’ll die in the most miserable way!”

I shouldered Naomi’s schoolbag. From now on, I was Naomi Wyth. Annie became Naomi. As soon as I stepped into the classroom, a book flew at my face. I dodged to the side. “Tasha told you to bring breakfast, and you didn’t. You have a death wish?” It was Michelle—Tasha’s loyal little minion, the one whose laughter pierced the video like a venomous knife. Her cruel delight in the suffering of others was palpable, a dark pleasure that twisted her face into a sneer of sadistic glee I ignored her and walked straight to Naomi’s seat. The wooden desk was carved with all sorts of insults: “bitch,” “whore”… “Still admiring those words we carved just for you? Not enough? How about we carve them on your face?” Michelle’s grin grew even wider when I stayed silent. She sauntered up to me, her beady eyes gleaming with malice as she looked down, her smile morphing into a cruel sneer. “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” she drawled. “Tasha will absolutely love it.” Something feral simmered in my veins, seething and coursing through my entire body with a mind of its own. It was a wildfire of rage, and I had no intention of quelling it. Without a moment’s hesitation, I surged forward, my arm cutting through the air with a fierce intent. The slap exploded with a thunderous crack, reverberating through the room like the roar of a storm. A vivid, crimson handprint bloomed across Michelle’s face. “You dare hit me? Just wait until Tasha gets back—you’re dead!” Her voice turned shrill, like a broken chord. The other students, caught off guard, froze, their smiles fading. I narrowed my eyes. “Why aren’t you laughing anymore?” Michelle raised her hand, about to strike back, but the class bell rang. She shot me a venomous glare and returned to her seat. I stuffed the schoolbag into the desk. My hand touched something wet. The desk was filled with greasy snack wrappers, emitting a sickening stench. The homeroom teacher, Ms. Rosetta, walked in. She glanced at me before saying, “Naomi, class has started. Why aren’t you sitting down?” “My desk is full of trash Tasha and her friends stuffed in, and the chair is covered in glue.” I watched as her expression stiffened. She slowly lifted her gaze, snorting, “Are you saying Tasha did this to you?” I said nothing, just stared at her quietly. She scoffed, her laughter tinged with contempt. “Impossible!” she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. “Tasha is the top student in the grade—she would never do something like this. Even if she isn’t here today, I won’t let you besmirch her name!” Michelle shot me a smug look, nodding slightly, her lips curving into a smile. “Ms. Rosetta, she’s just jealous of Tasha. Everyone knows Tasha’s a good student.” “Sit down. If you don’t want to learn, don’t disrupt the others,” Ms. Rosetta snapped at me. I flipped the desk over, revealing the trash inside. The greasy wrappers spilled onto the floor, drawing gasps from the class. Michelle’s eyes blazed with venomous defiance. “Maybe you’re just lazy and have a secret love for snacks,” she sneered, her voice dripping with scorn. “You probably didn’t even bother to throw out your trash and now you’re trying to pin it on me!” Ms. Rosetta’s gaze was contemplative, her expression settling into a thoughtful frown. “I find it hard to believe Tasha would target you,” she said slowly, her voice carrying an edge of reluctant wisdom. “If she did, perhaps it’s time for you to reflect on why. There’s an old saying: it takes two to tango…” I dashed forward, delivering another sharp slap that resounded through the classroom. I smirked at the teacher. “Ms. Rosetta, does this sound like a one-sided slap to you?” No one expected me to be so bold. Even the teacher was stunned. Her face flushed a furious crimson, veins throbbing in her neck as if ready to burst. “Naomi!” she roared, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you lay a hand on your teacher!” Her words were a torrent of indignation, each syllable punctuated with a fierce determination. “I’m calling your parents! You’re not staying in this school!”

My mom arrived at school quickly. As soon as she saw me, she gave a slight smile, as if to say, “Well done.” In the office, Ms. Rosetta was venting her frustrations to my mom, complaining about how disobedient I was. “All I did was reprimand her, and she dared to hit me? In all my years of teaching, I’ve never seen a student so disrespectful!” My mom tilted her head slightly, casting an indifferent glance at the teacher, her gaze filled with deep disgust. “Ms. Rosetta, don’t you think you might be the problem here? Why did Naomi hit you and not the other teachers?” The words struck a familiar chord. I chuckled. The teacher was rendered speechless by my mom’s half-smiling face. Finally, she blurted out, “Let’s go see the principal. Let’s see if they’ll keep this worthless student or me!” “Sure,” my mom agreed. The moment we saw the principal, my mom rushed forward, shaking his hand eagerly. “This little incident shouldn’t bother the principal. Naomi’s so thoughtless. How about this: my husband and I have decided that as long as the student comes from a poor but honest family, we will sponsor them through graduation.” The principal’s eyes lit up. “Really?” My mom nodded, then glanced at Ms. Rosetta with a challenging look in her eyes. “We wouldn’t joke about something this important.” “That’s great, that’s great. This really isn’t a big deal. Kids will be kids, sometimes a bit naughty. Naomi just accidentally hit Ms. Rosetta. Ms. Rosetta has taught here for so long, she’s seen all kinds of students. Naomi’s just a little mischievous, nothing more. Right, Ms. Rosetta?” The teacher trembled with rage, her mouth twitching, but eventually nodded. The words she had planned to use to get me expelled got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t swallow them, nor could she spit them out. Her face turned ashen. I smiled lightly. This was only the beginning. I was sure that my sister had once reached out to the teacher, hoping she would help pull her out of the mire. But she hadn’t lifted a finger, instead aiding and abetting the bullies. My poor sister, did you see? Sometimes the methods you despise are the ones that truly work. Even when she was driven to the point of suicide, she never told me or our parents about what was happening at school. When we asked, she always brushed it off, saying that the teachers were good and that her classmates were nice. Even now, she still protected those demons. She knew that if they fell into our hands, death would be a mercy.

Tasha Zayne returned. It seemed she had heard about my “transformation” from her classmates—how Naomi Wyth had changed so much that she even hit a teacher and made a scene with the principal. She kicked over my desk. “I take two days off, and you suddenly think you’re something special? Let me see which hand you used to hit Michelle.” I didn’t even bother to look up, just slapped her across the face. “See? I used both hands.” Tasha’s fingers clenched into a fist, her knuckles cracking. “You bitch! How dare you hit me!” She lunged at me, and we started to fight. Her tactics were childish—pulling hair and scratching arms. It didn’t take long for her to lose the upper hand. I dragged her into the bathroom and pushed her head into the sink. The scene reminded me of my sister. She, too, had been held under the water, unable to breathe. Michelle stood frozen at the bathroom door, too scared to move. It wasn’t until Tasha screamed that she finally grabbed a mop and approached. “Michelle, what are you waiting for? Help me strip her clothes off! I’m going to make sure she gets her own video circulating online!” Tasha’s eyes were filled with hatred as she screamed, her face contorted in rage. “If you beat me fair and square, I’d have some respect for you. But you resort to such underhanded tactics, it’s disgusting.” Michelle, taking advantage of a moment when I was distracted, struck me hard on the back with the mop. Tasha managed to free herself and pinned me down. “Bitch! Slut! How dare you hit me!” she snarled, her nails raking across my face. Only when she saw the blood did her fury morph into a twisted, sickening pleasure. A dark satisfaction gleamed in her eyes as she savored the moment. “Now,” she sneered with a cruel edge, “let’s see you try to flirt with the boys!” The taste of blood filled my mouth. But instead of fear, I found myself smiling. “Are you targeting me because I’m prettier than you? Are you jealous that all the boys in class like me?” I guessed right. The moment I said this, Tasha’s expression changed. “Is that why you have this seductive look on your face? Are you desperate for male attention?” Everyone knew my sister was beautiful. It was no secret. Our family had always made an effort to maintain our looks. We had our own methods. Looking at Tasha and Michelle, I couldn’t help but laugh so hard that I doubled over. People like them would make excellent beauty products.

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Title: After My Rebirth, I Danced on the Fake Daughter’s Head At the family reunion, Rebecca Reynolds held my hand, her eyes brimming with tears, “I’m so sorry for taking your life. Don’t worry, the inheritance will all be yours from now on.” I squeezed her hand back, pulling out a document renouncing my rights to the inheritance. “Okay, in that case, go ahead and sign this, Rebecca.” Before the fake daughter could object, I laid down on the floor, flailing my arms and legs, pulling my hair, scratching my neck, screaming, crying, rolling around. Eventually, I faked a seizure, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. I am the real daughter of the Reynolds family who was lost for years. Since I was little, I knew Mom didn’t love me. No matter how obedient and sensible I was, she always found a reason to hit me. Later, when the Reynolds family found me, I realized it’s because I was not their biological daughter. I thought the Reynolds family was my salvation. But my life ended tragically abroad instead. My miserable past life taught me one thing: Look out for number one. You can’t rely on anyone but yourself. Rebecca, now in shock, didn’t dare to move. She hurriedly signed the document in a panic, leaving her handprint. I stood up, brushed the dust off my clothes, and flashed a perfect flight attendant smile. “Thank you for your cooperation.” Turns out, acting crazy works wonders. So why did I spend my past life tiptoeing around, trying to please everyone? Acting wild really paid off this time! I handed the signed document to the lawyer. Some things are best left to professionals. People can change their minds, but the law doesn’t. This time around, you can keep the love, I’ll take the money. Seems fair to me.

The next day, my parents came to my apartment. My biological dad, Douglas Reynolds, carefully spoke up, “Can I take a look at the document Rebecca signed yesterday?” In this life, I didn’t go back to live with them. Instead, I chose a riverside apartment on my own. Last time, their happy family life made me feel like I was just a clown, coveting what wasn’t mine. No point forcing myself into a space where I clearly don’t fit in. It would only disgust everyone, including myself. I smiled, “Nope.” My bio mom, Darcy Reynolds, was caught off guard by my blunt refusal and scolded me with a stern face. “How can you be so heartless? Sure, you’re our biological daughter and the whole mix-up isn’t Rebecca’s fault, but your actions have been pretty harsh.” Last time around, I listened to them, didn’t compete with Rebecca. Yet, all they thought of me was a dropout who embarrassed them. They never really looked at me, not even the housekeeper hesitated to bully me either. Meanwhile, Rebecca thrived under their love, like she was some cherished princess. Was my fate just destined to be so miserable? Seeing my silence, Douglas’s face darkened. “Your mom and I are still alive and kicking, and you’re already scheming over the inheritance. How can you be so cold-blooded?” Listening to their accusations, I silently counted down in my mind. Three seconds later, I stood up, acting possessed. I flailed my hands around, running crazily around the living room. “Who took away my mom and dad? Suffering alone for eighteen years wasn’t bad enough? Now even my parents have been taken over?!?!” “Oh God, please give me back my mom and dad!” My parents were freaked out by my performance and didn’t dare to bring up the document again.

Just like in my past life, Rebecca suggested that I go to school with her, under the guise of “sister bonding.” But having dropped out in middle school, it was impossible to keep up with her in senior year. No surprise, I consistently ranked last in every exam. I’d never heard of the fancy brands, arts, or countries people talked about. Eventually, everyone started to hate me, saying I didn’t belong in the Reynolds family’s prestigious life. Rebecca used my misfortune to highlight her excellence. Over time, people knew the Reynolds family had a daughter who didn’t belong. To save face, they sent me abroad. This time, I won’t let them step all over me again. When Rebecca, smiling brightly, introduced us as twins to her friends, I slammed my hand on the table, lifted her bangs, held her chubby cheeks, and peeled off her double eyelid tape. “Open your eyes wide and take a good look. Do we look like twins?” The surrounding students were frightened by my fierce expression. “Speak! Do we? Who’s prettier?” “No, we don’t look alike… You, you look prettier.” I turned to Rebecca, “So, tell me, what’s our real relationship?” She held back tears, refusing to speak. Instantly, I flipped the desk in front of her and started acting crazed again. “Oh, the heavens! This ugly girl dares to say we’re twins. It’s a crime! I’m the real daughter, but she doesn’t let go of my place. Is she trying to take over my destiny? Heaven, help! I can’t live like this!!!” With everyone’s eyes on her, Rebecca covered her face and ran off. I calmly sat back down, grinning eerily. Word spread fast throughout the high school; Rebecca was the fake daughter. After that, she never returned.

That evening, the Reynolds parents brought Rebecca to my apartment. “How dare you tell people at school that Rebecca isn’t our real daughter? What do you gain from it?” “Well, everyone now knows that I’m the rightful heir to the Reynolds legacy, so, watch out.” Douglas, furious, jabbed his finger at my head, “I’m still alive, and I’ll decide who gets to be the heir!” I smirked. “Got bubbles in your brain, old man? Is this house yours? Do you own any company shares? What right does a freeloading gold digger have to bark orders here?” Darcy and Rebecca were shocked speechless. They usually tiptoed around Douglas’s fragile ego, always pampering him. Pamper someone long enough, and they’ll start believing it. Seeing Douglas tremble with anger, I continued to poke his sore spot. “Everything here belongs to the Reynolds family, including what you use. Don’t forget, my grandpa holds the reins. He’s the one who decides who inherits, not you. Got it?” “Respect me, and maybe I’ll let you have some scraps. If not, once I take over, I’ll kick you out.” Douglas threw his shoe at me, “You ungrateful brat! I’ll rip your mouth off your face!” I dodged easily and turned to Darcy, “Your husband is attacking your own daughter and you’re just standing there? Is this your way of making up for losing me for eighteen years? I’m your blood, and you still prioritize a leeching husband over your own kid?” Darcy stood there unmoved. “Your dad is teaching you a lesson. That’s his right.” Seeing the neighbors crowded around our door with their phones out, Douglas was forced to back down to save face. Through these incidents, Rebecca learned the hard way not to confront me directly. She started to create scenarios at school to paint me as a bully and gain sympathy, making the students hate me. What could I do? I just played along—questioning her, empathizing with her, becoming her, and finally proving her right. “Hey sis, don’t you like me?” “Drop the fake sister act, it’s annoying.” “Sis, I brought you some snacks.” “Afraid you poisoned them.” With both our efforts, everyone soon saw Rebecca as the selfless, kind one who gave up her inheritance to care for her troubled little sister. And me, Jennifer, as the arrogant, blood-related bully who was hell-bent on tormenting poor Rebecca. Sisterly bond? Funny.

One day, Rebecca didn’t come home, leaving my parents pacing in the living room, sending one search party after another with no news. It was only early in the morning when the school’s security found Rebecca locked in the equipment room. Freezing, she ran into her parents’ arms. “Maybe my sister was just playing a prank. Mom, Dad, don’t blame her.” No way was it just a prank on my part. I found out she was planning to frame me, so I locked the equipment room and turned off the heating for good measure. “Enjoy the winter chill, Rebecca,” I thought. Douglas came at me with a slap, “How could you be so evil? Apologize to your sister right now.” I rubbed my swollen cheek. Walking up to my mom, I yanked Rebecca out of her arms and slapped her twice. Dad’s debt, paid by his daughter, buy one get one free. “Say, which eye of yours saw me lock you up, Rebecca?” Terrified, Rebecca cried out. “Jennifer! Stop! Mom is so disappointed in you.” Laughable. Like I care. I put on a fearless expression, tightening my grip on Rebecca’s hair and pinching her behind her back. Rebecca yelped in pain, “Stop! Stop! I’ll tell the truth… It was my own fault. Boohoo…” “Why did you lock yourself up? No lying.” I pinched her harder. “Uh, because… I wanted to frame you.” I let her go, and she bolted like a scared cat. I turned to Douglas, “Hear that? You should control your ‘perfect’ daughter better and stop spreading lies.” In the office, teachers whispered about me. “Humph! Some people falsely accuse me and won’t let me clear myself up.” “Oh dear Lord, they didn’t even check the cameras. They want me dead!” I crawled on the ground evilly and then pretended to faint. For a few days, rumors about me harming Rebecca spread everywhere. I found my homework torn up, my water bottle filled with paper bits. Childish stuff. But no biggie for me. After using the bathroom one lunchtime, I found the door locked from the outside, with giggles filtering in. Bring it on. I stepped back and kicked the door open. Grabbing a mop, I swished it around in the toilet and started flinging it at them. Rebecca and her crew recoiled in horror as I aimed for their faces. Long spear dipped in filth, whoever’s in the way gets hit. Soon enough, they were covered in nasty stains. “Jennifer, you witch! This isn’t over—” gag They retreated, and Rebecca lunged at me. I swung the mop, knocking her down, while she winced in pain. I leaned against the door, blocking their path to the classroom. “No dirty things allowed in school.” At that moment, the teacher arrived. “Jennifer, this behavior is intolerable! Apologize to your classmates and write a 3,000-word reflection.” I scoffed, still in the doorway. “Pay attention when the teacher talks to you. Show some respect. Reynolds family must be ashamed of having a daughter like you.” “Respect for you? A corrupt teacher who plays favorites and sucks up to the principal? You sort students into tiers, using scholarships and awards as bribes. Today marks your last day on the job.” The teacher, furious, “How dare you!” “Oh, spare me. Return all the bribes you took and hope for leniency.” He had often taken gifts from Rebecca in the past, turning a blind eye to my suffering. Those who had been discriminated against for their poor family backgrounds now looked at me with newfound respect. Awkward but satisfying. The next day, we got a new teacher who devoted himself entirely to preparing us for college entrance exams. The poisonous atmosphere lifted, and the study environment became much fresher. 5 That weekend, the Reynolds family sent a driver to bring me back for dinner. I knew right away it was going to be a trap. I made sure to wear something comfortable, an outfit that allowed for easy movement. Couldn’t let clothes hinder my performance. Barely had I sat down and taken a few bites before Douglas started lecturing me. Same old accusations — selfish, rude, vulgar. Then he demanded that I hand over the inheritance renunciation agreement Rebecca had signed previously. “You weren’t with me and your mom growing up, so you’ve picked up some bad habits. But if you behave and change, you’ll still be our good daughter, and we won’t treat you poorly.” I looked at Darcy, my biological mother. “Mom hopes you can get along with Rebecca.” Some people really will neglect their own children for the sake of some undeserving man. I stood up and shattered my plate on the ground. “What a joke. When have you ever treated me fairly? Have you even asked about the kind of life I lived? I wanted to get along, but Rebecca kept targeting me. And every time, it was her who started it. Have you once, even once, stood up for me?” “Jennifer, don’t slander me. Mom, Dad, you can ask around at school. I’ve always wanted to get along…” Before Rebecca could finish, I grabbed a plate of food and dumped it on her head. “Shut up!” Douglas shouted, “Jennifer, how dare you hit someone in front of your parents!” He called in a couple of security guards to pin me down. I might be feisty, but I’m no match against two grown men. “I’ll beat this rebellious daughter of mine to death today.” Douglas picked up a stick and started hitting me. The pain made sweat bead on my forehead. Darcy didn’t intervene; she was busy wiping food off Rebecca’s head. Rebecca played the innocent, sobbing while comforting her parents that she was okay. The whole scene was ridiculous. I held back my tears. Compared to my previous life, this was nothing. After a few strikes, Douglas paused, mistaking my lack of resistance for submission. Slumped on the floor, I saw my chance. I grabbed the stick and struck Douglas straight on the head with all my strength. Douglas crumpled to the ground, unable to get up. The security guards were stunned, and Darcy screamed. She rushed over and slapped me. “Jennifer, you’re not my daughter anymore.” Fine by me; I didn’t want them as my parents either. The mansion was in chaos, and when someone tried to make a call, I raised the stick. “Who’s calling?” The maid froze, probably because I actually meant business.

From then on, the Reynolds family cut off all contact with me. Rebecca would go out of her way to avoid me at school. I heard Douglas had been in the hospital for a few days. Only a few days? I must have gone easy on him. They canceled my credit cards and took back the apartment. They even sent a lawyer with a document severing parental ties. I gladly signed it. Let them enjoy their small victory for now. For my eighteenth birthday, the Reynolds threw a huge party for Rebecca, not bothering to invite me. No big deal. I have legs, don’t I? I put on a stylish new dress and arrived fashionably late. Rebecca looked like she’d seen a ghost. “You’re not welcome here. Get lost.” Douglas soon arrived. “You signed the severance papers. Get out.” “So your family needs to get out of my house. I don’t like strangers here.” Douglas raised his hand to hit me, but my security guards stepped in — I’d brought a dozen of them this time, all well-trained. I walked right up to the stage and took the mic from the host. “Hello, everyone. I’m Jennifer, the rightful heir to the Reynolds family. Moving forward, I’ll be taking over Reynolds Corp.” Guests, many high-profile business associates of the Reynolds, started whispering amongst themselves. Douglas tried to disrupt me, but my guards held him back. I dropped another bombshell. “The board has decided to remove Douglas from all positions at Reynolds Corp and will pursue legal action for any crimes he committed while in office.” Douglas, furious, started screaming insults at me. “You little brat! Without your grandpa, you’re nothing. You think you can push me out? I’ve been with Reynolds for twenty years! Who do you think gave you this power?” “I did.”

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Title: What’s It Like to Have a Jerk for a Boyfriend? In chick lit, there’s a cliche called “replacement love.” It’s when the male lead, missing someone he loves, finds a girl who looks just like her. Unbelievably, I ended up as the unlucky woman studying abroad, only to be cheated on. My first boyfriend couldn’t dodge the cheesy plot; he started dating someone who looks a lot like me. When I came back to town, he brought his new girlfriend to my welcome home party. Friends from our circle were all waiting to see me flustered. They were in for a surprise though, as I brought my new boyfriend back as well. The day Kai Dawson broke up with me, he sent a text: “Sorry, Sue. I broke my promise. I don’t want to wait anymore.” At that time, I still had a year left in school. We had survived three years long-distance, but our relationship fell apart in the last year. He had shown signs of losing interest, so I wasn’t too surprised. Swallowing my sadness, I replied: “It’s okay, let’s just be friends.” “Alright.” But later, I found out he had blocked me. A good ex is like being dead. I didn’t blame him and just blocked him back. Before returning from Italy, some old friends insisted on throwing me a welcome back party. They didn’t tell me that Kai and his new girlfriend would be there. Luckily, my best friend couldn’t stand it and tipped me off. “Sue, don’t go! They just want to humiliate you! Kai’s new girl is afraid he might still have feelings for you, so she demanded this party to show off.” I shrugged off her concern, “Aside from them, there are other people I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll just give them face and show up.” “It’s all Kai’s buddies. I wish I could be there to support you. Don’t let them get to you!” “Thanks for the heads-up. If someone’s set the stage for me, I can’t let them down. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” The day I returned, I went to the party as planned. The waiter opened the private room door, and the first person I saw was Kai, sitting at the head of the table. A year hadn’t changed his good looks and confident demeanor. Next to him sat a stunning woman, his new girlfriend Evelyn, a recent hire at Kai’s company. She bore an uncanny resemblance to me. My heart tightened at the sight. I remembered two years ago when Kai sent me a picture of Evelyn. “A new recruit came in for an interview today. She startled me; I thought you had snuck back to surprise me.” Back then, Evelyn looked even more like me—same hairstyle, makeup, and fashion sense. I laughed it off, joking, “Maybe we’re related. I need to ask my dad.” Kai said, “No, she’s not. She’s from out of town, her parents are alive, and she has a twin brother who looks nothing like her.” “You checked into her background?” “Of course, we need to know about new hires.” Who would’ve thought that the girl I didn’t think twice about would replace me so completely? Back in the present, Kai’s friend Finn stood up. “Welcome back, Sue. It’s great to have our star back…” His voice trailed off as everyone looked at the man behind me. I greeted them calmly: “It’s been a while. Thanks for remembering me.” Finn forced a laugh and asked, “Sue, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce him?” Stepping aside, I proudly introduced, “This is Gareth Kirby, my boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ made everyone’s eyes widen in surprise. Gareth flashed his dazzling smile, showing off two cute dimples: “Good evening, everyone. I’m honored to be here with you tonight.” Gareth is incredibly handsome, and his smile had an explosive effect. The ladies were openly staring. One girl with long black hair exclaimed, “Wow, Sue, your boyfriend is too gorgeous!” The others quickly followed: “He’s unfairly handsome! Is Gareth a model or an actor?” Before I could answer, Gareth chimed in sweetly, “Thank you for the compliment, but you’re all very beautiful too. Just call me Gareth.” Not only is he good-looking, but he’s also charming. The crowd that was waiting to mock me had their focus entirely captured by Gareth. Even Evelyn couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. Kai’s face darkened, and he said sternly: “Let’s all sit down and chat. No need to stand around.”

As Kai spoke, the chatter died down. The waiter added an extra seat, and Gareth and I sat closely together. Once seated, I began introducing Gareth to everyone at the table. Tonight was supposed to revolve around me, but everyone was now completely fixated on Gareth. Gareth had been studying in France since middle school. He’s naturally outgoing and sociable, so I wasn’t worried about him being out of place. The girl with the long straight hair teased me, “Sue, you really kept this one under wraps, didn’t you? Secretly got yourself a new boyfriend.” Her words carried a bit of edge, and I saw some people’s eyes dart between me, Kai, and Evelyn with curiosity. I smiled softly and said, “Well, life is all about moving forward, isn’t it?” Over on the other side, Evelyn shyly leaned closer to Kai. “What’s wrong?” Kai asked, genuinely concerned. “Just a bit tired from filming a late-night scene last night…” Evelyn said, trying to muster a smile, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a nap in the car later.” Kai’s concern was palpable, “Eat something and I’ll take you home to rest.” He urged everyone, “Let’s order some food.” Someone teased, “Mr. Dawson is such a doting boyfriend.” “With a girlfriend as beautiful as Evelyn, who wouldn’t be?” Evelyn bashfully hid her face in Kai’s shoulder, “Stop teasing me…” I could feel some probing eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. Inside, a mix of bitterness and sadness churned, but I didn’t let it show. It stung to see my longtime boyfriend with someone who was essentially my replacement, flaunting their affection right in front of me. The feeling of being outdone by a knockoff version was humiliating. “Doting boyfriend? Really?” I thought to myself. The deep affection he once showed me could transfer so easily to someone else. I couldn’t tell if that was my tragedy or his. Finn politely offered me the menu, spinning it on the lazy Susan toward me. Trying to keep my composure, I said graciously, “I’m not familiar with this restaurant. Why don’t you all order what you like? This meal is on me, so go ahead and pick anything.” Kai replied indifferently, “This place is members-only. I’ll cover it through my membership.” I smiled politely, “Thank you, Mr. Dawson. Let’s have me host next time.” Gareth, without hesitation, picked up the menu and whispered in my ear, “Sue, what’s this chicken dish with sea cucumber?” “It’s a beauty-boosting dish. Want to try it?” “I’d like to.” He kept pointing out dishes and asking me about them, and I patiently explained everything I knew. Our heads were so close together it was almost like we were whispering secrets. The long-haired girl couldn’t help but ask, “Gareth, are you younger than Sue?” Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes, Gareth is six months younger than me.” The ladies chimed in with enthusiastic comments: “A younger boyfriend, how intriguing!” “Young and full of energy!” I overheard Kai’s friends whispering in Glaswegian dialect, perhaps thinking Gareth wouldn’t understand them: “A pretty boy hired to play the part?” “Must be, just to annoy Kai…” “I thought she had moved on. He’s just a kept man.” “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Disrespectful, regardless of whether it was true. Kai likely heard them, too. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he glanced at Gareth with disdain. Evelyn softly asked, “Kai, do you like younger women too?” Kai’s response was thinly-veiled disdain, “No. I’m a bit old-fashioned; I need a woman younger than me.” Clearly a jab at me, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to react. Gareth, oblivious or simply unbothered, kept browsing the menu. He saw a sea cucumber soup and said to one of the whispering guys, “Dougie, how about I order you some sea cucumber soup?” Dougie, trying to be polite, replied, “No, thank you, that’s too much…” Gareth smiled sweetly, “You’ve got dark circles and grey around your lips. Might be kidney issues. Sea cucumber is quite nourishing.” No man wants to hear that, and Dougie’s face turned several shades at once. He rushed to deny it, “I don’t have kidney issues!” Gareth, with unflinching innocence, said, “Your dull, oily skin and red nose suggest hormonal imbalance. You should see a specialist.”

Poor Dougie looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment, unable to come up with a retort. I playfully scolded Gareth, “Gareth, Dougie’s girlfriend would know if he had such issues. No need for you to worry.” Dougie’s girlfriend, caught in the awkwardness, took a sip of water. Gareth quickly apologized, “Sorry, Dougie, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I know you won’t take it to heart, right?” What could Dougie say? He could only stew in his own frustration. The long-haired girl, enjoying the drama, asked, “Gareth, can you diagnose us too?” “I wouldn’t say diagnose. My grandpa’s an internist, so I picked up a bit here and there,” Gareth downplayed his knowledge, then dropped another bomb on the second whisperer, “Mr. Newman, your sparse facial hair but thick head hair is typical of someone wearing a wig.” Newman had long dealt with premature balding, always hiding it with a wig—it wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t talked about either. A few people couldn’t hold back their laughter. Newman’s smile disappeared, his tone becoming hostile, “What’s your point?” Gareth feigned surprise, “Oh? Did I say something wrong? I thought it was a wig. It’s so realistic; I was going to recommend it to my uncle. My bad. It’s real hair?” Newman, who hated any mention of his wig, almost lost it. He was about to lash out when I softly reiterated in dialect, “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Newman swallowed his retort, simmering in anger. Gareth, all innocence, asked, “Sue, what did you just say?” I smiled, “Nothing, let’s order.” Food finally arrived, and Gareth and I played the perfect hosts, urging everyone to dig in. Evelyn tenderly peeled shrimp for Kai, and Gareth cut my steak. They flaunted their affection, and we flaunted ours. Everything seemed fine until one troublemaker couldn’t keep his mouth shut. A guy with glasses said snidely, “It’s a new world where men are doing women’s work now, huh?” He then praised Kai, “Kai made the right call, choosing a gentle, traditionally-minded girl.” But before Kai could respond, the long-haired girl scoffed, “So, are you looking for a girlfriend or a maid?” Another short-haired woman chimed in, “Do you think women exist to serve you?” I smiled softly, “It’s not the Victorian era anymore.” That guy quickly became the enemy of all the women at the table. Trying to salvage his standing, he backpedaled. “Just joking. No need to be so sensitive.” Gareth, with a big grin, added, “In my family, it’s normal for men to take care of women. My mom never has to peel shrimp; my dad always does it for her. Now, even in her fifties, her hands are still soft and pretty.” Gareth peeled a shrimp in a few swift motions, removing the vein and placing it in my bowl. I smiled and thanked him. The long-haired girl chimed in, “Gareth and his dad are the real doting men here. Actions over words any day.” Kai’s face showed a hint of discomfort, and even Evelyn looked awkwardly at their half-eaten shrimp. The meal turned out to be more comfortable than I’d anticipated. Watching my ex with his new girlfriend wasn’t as painful as I’d feared. On the way back, I gazed pensively out at the night. Gareth tried to lighten the mood, “Sue, did I do alright today?”

I laughed softly, “You did amazingly well, even better than I thought you would.” “Of course! How could I let you down?” Gareth replied confidently. “By the way, do you actually understand that Glaswegian dialect?” I asked, clearing up a nagging question in my mind. “Yup,” Gareth said, puffing out his chest with pride, “I know four languages and fifteen dialects.” He started listing off, almost like showing off a treasure, “Scottish, Irish, Gaelic… I know them all.” I sighed, “You’re really something else. Being an actor is actually an understatement.” “Nah, it’s not easy being an actor either,” Gareth replied humbly. He was also an artist signed to my company. We were college mates; I studied economics, and he went to the art school. Gareth, tall and handsome with an extroverted personality, loved performing. He had experience in theater and was pretty popular on social media, making him a minor celebrity abroad. Several talent agencies had tried to sign him, and he was keen on breaking into the domestic entertainment industry. Hearing my family’s business was a film investment company, Gareth approached me. My company rarely signed new talent, preferring seasoned actors from prestigious acting schools. Despite his impressive resume, Gareth was still considered a rookie. But I needed a good-looking and talented actor to deal with Kai and the gang upon my return, so we struck a deal. Gareth said sweetly, “If you ever need me to act again, just let me know.” “Thanks, but you should focus on your career,” I replied, putting on a serious face. “I treat you the same as any other employee. I hope you earn your place at the company through your own merit.” “Yes, ma’am!” Gareth gave me a playful salute. Once home, freshly showered and ready for bed, my best friend Lily sent me a voice message: “Hey, I heard you brought a new boyfriend?! When did that happen?” I could practically see her eyes shining with gossip through the phone. I gave her a rundown of what happened. Lily chuckled, “So, you hired an actor? That’s smart. He’s handsome and charming. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly for real.” I sighed, “I don’t mix work with personal life. It’s just messy.” “True, power dynamics can get weird. But are you sure he doesn’t have other motives?” Lily interrupted herself, “Susan told me your ‘boyfriend’ roasted Kai’s friends to a crisp! Too bad I missed it!” Susan was the long-haired girl from dinner. “He’s quick-witted and has a sharp tongue…” I was saying when a friend request popped up on my phone: Evelyn. Kai’s new girlfriend wanted to add me? I was puzzled. She must’ve gotten my contact from Finn. After a few seconds of thought, I accepted. Back in the chat, Lily asked, “Still there?” “Yeah, Evelyn just added me.” “😲 What’s she want?” “No idea, maybe she has something to say?” “Drama queen.” Evelyn soon sent a greeting, to which I politely responded with a smiley emoji. Then she sent a video. In the dim light, I could see a shirtless Kai, snoring and sprawled on a pillow, with someone’s bare arm in the shot. Disgust hit me like a wave, making me feel sick. Evelyn texted: “Kai’s snoring is so loud. Was he always like this? He won’t sleep without hugging me; it gets so hot and sticky…”

Lily wasn’t wrong; Evelyn was a drama queen. Unsure how to respond, I exited the chat. Out of sight, out of mind. Lily was still curious, “Why did she add you? Did she say anything?” I sent her the video and our chat. Lily exploded, sending a barrage of memes: “Is she insane?” “I’ve never seen anyone so shameless!” “Evelyn’s crazy!” I replied, “I think I’ll just delete her.” “Don’t! She’ll think she scared you off. Keep her around. Let’s see what other stunts she tries to pull.” “Okay, I’m off to bed. You should rest too.” “You can sleep after that? That girl’s nuts! Kai’s a fool for cheating on you for her.” “Seeing them together today, I was sad. But now, I feel relieved. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Thanks to Evelyn, I see Kai clearly now.” Lily said, “You’re so chill. I’d be cussing both of them out!” I sent her a meme saying “I’m eerily calm right now.” “Don’t waste your energy on people who don’t deserve it,” I advised. Evelyn didn’t provoke me again, though she often posted lovey-dovey pictures of her and Kai in her Moments, all of which were only visible to me. Realizing this, I decided to block her. Back to Gareth, he officially joined my company as a signed actor. The company planned to film a spy drama “Misty Mist,” and I secured a role for Gareth as the third male lead. He was thrilled. “Sue, I’ve read the script. My part isn’t huge, but it’s a powerful role.” I encouraged him, “Do well, and you can aim for movies. Your career could skyrocket.” Most lead roles were taken by acclaimed actors, promising mutual success for the film. But a month before shooting, the female lead was replaced by none other than Evelyn. As a producer, I was the last to know. The investor’s representative apologetically explained, “Mr. Dawson insisted Evelyn play the role. He really wants her in this project. We hope you’ll understand.” With financial backing from Kai’s company, I had little choice. Complaining would be futile. I felt disheartened but professional, “Tell Mr. Dawson that any breach of contract fees must also be covered.” The rep readily agreed, “Of course, Mr. Dawson will handle all costs.” So, it was settled. With the closed training and filming schedule, Gareth would be in the crew for nearly half a year. I was increasingly busy and rarely had time to check in with him. Two months into filming, Gareth messaged me, “Sue, can you come visit me on set?”

I replied cheerfully, “I’d been planning to come visit you all anyway. See you in a few days.” Gareth was over the moon, his excitement so evident as he said, “Really? That’s awesome! I can’t wait!” I knew why he wanted me to come. Apparently, Kai had recently visited Evelyn on set. I chuckled, “Whatever other kids get, you’ll get too.” “Thanks, Sue!” As the weather turned colder, I made sure to bring hot drinks for the entire crew when I visited the set. Gareth was still in costume from his scene, wearing a perfectly tailored 1930s military uniform that made him look dashing and charismatic. Seeing me, Gareth lit up like a lost puppy reunited with his owner, practically wagging his tail. I patted his head and then his shoulder. Though Gareth was only six months younger than me, our dynamic often felt like… well, parent and child? Owner and pet? Today, some media were also on set for interviews. After gulping down his hot coffee, Gareth was pulled aside by the director for a press interview. He and Evelyn sat together on camera, mics in hand. After some standard questions, the reporter targeted Gareth: “As newcomers, what do you two think of each other’s performances?” Evelyn turned on her performance mode and said with exaggerated sweetness, “Gareth is great with everyone; he’s charming and always knows how to make people smile. Everyone adores him. Our producer even came today just to see him. I’ve heard Gareth was a personal recommendation by our producer, and they’re college mates. I’m sure he has qualities that really stand out, which is why the producer took special interest in him.” Evelyn was just a step away from saying Gareth got his role by cozying up to the boss. It’s true I was promoting Gareth, but he had the talent to back it up. And let’s not forget Evelyn was only here because Kai paid big bucks to get her in. Pot calling the kettle black! The reporter chuckled awkwardly and turned to Gareth, “Gareth, what do you think of Evelyn?” Gareth flashed an impish grin, “I admire Evelyn a lot. She’s come up with a brilliant way to remember her lines. She gets her assistant to write them all on big cue cards and reads off them during scenes. It’s genius! Saves so much time on memorizing. Why didn’t I think of that? Gosh, I’m really slow!” His words dripped with sarcasm, leaving Evelyn fuming and forcing a smile. The awkward tension was palpable, with some crew members stifling laughter. Evelyn forced a laugh, “That’s not true… I only use the cards as a backup. I don’t really look at them during takes…” Gareth didn’t let up, “Oh, I’m just bad at memorizing, so I use my meal breaks to study my lines. Not like Evelyn, who’s both beautiful and clever. She spends her breaks video chatting with her boyfriend. So sweet and enviable…” Gareth pretended to be shocked, covering his mouth, “Wait, was I not supposed to say that? Can we cut that part out?” Evelyn’s face turned green, her eyes rolling in exasperation. The reporter quickly changed the subject, trying to steer the interview back on track. Media folks know better than to air dirty laundry that tarnishes everyone involved. Sometimes, it takes a real jerk to beat another jerk at their own game. Internally, I rated Evelyn: “Prideful but clueless, daring to mess with Gareth—good luck!” In the entertainment industry, actors pulling each other’s hair in private isn’t unheard of. Companies usually don’t step in unless things get out of hand. But some folks just can’t let things go. Not long after, I attended a business event with my brother and ran into Kai. Pulling me aside, he got straight to the point: “You need to consider enrolling your little boyfriend in manners classes, teach him some etiquette.”

His snide tone made it clear Evelyn had complained to him, and Kai was here to defend his precious girl. I crossed my arms, unbothered, “Mr. Dawson, if you have something to say, say it straight. Where did you pick up this passive-aggressive attitude?” Kai looked a bit embarrassed but quickly regained his composure, “Evelyn truly loves this project. I helped her secure the main role because of that. Since you agreed to let her participate, don’t make things difficult for her. I always considered you a reasonable person. Don’t ruin that impression.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For heaven’s sake, who’s making things difficult? I had better things to do. And it was Evelyn who started it, Gareth merely retaliated. But expecting Kai to be objective was wishful thinking. Defending your girl is natural. Seeing my silence, Kai continued, “I know seeing Evelyn and me together hurts you… I was wrong. I’ll make it up to you in other ways. But don’t take it out on Evelyn; she knows nothing. It’s me you should be mad at.” This sounded too much like those dramatic TV clichés, and I couldn’t stand it. Cutting him off, I fired back, “Mr. Dawson, we are long over. I have no lingering feelings for you. And I’ve never targeted your girlfriend. She added me as a friend, sent me your sleeping videos. I have no interest in your playtime preferences. I just care about my company.” “Evelyn… couldn’t have,” Kai looked genuinely confused, unable to believe his sweet girlfriend could be so petty. I pulled up my chat logs with Evelyn as proof. Seeing the evidence, Kai was dumbstruck. I continued, “Invest in a few acting classes for your girlfriend. As an actress, she should focus on honing her skills. Viewers can tell when actors aren’t putting in the effort. If you can’t bear to see her struggle, marry her and pamper her at home. Don’t rob hardworking people of their roles.” Ignoring Kai’s pale face, I walked away. A month later, “Misty Mist” wrapped filming. The distribution company was pleased and planned to release it during the lucrative New Year’s season. I also heard that Kai had arranged for Evelyn to get a Best Actress award. Since my family financed the film, I didn’t mind Kai adding some shine to it. Gareth’s manager suggested, “Let’s have Gareth contend for the Best Newcomer award too.” “Sure,” I agreed, “but let’s do it on merit. No buying votes.” “Got it. Even a nomination would be great for him at this point.” Believing that “character is fated to follow talent,” I was determined to guide Gareth on a steady career path. Shortly after, director Daniel Williams, an influential figure in international cinema, got impressed by Gareth through word of mouth. Known for resisting financial influence, Daniel auditioned Gareth, who landed a small part in one of his films. Even a minor role in a Daniel Williams film is an honor. While Gareth continued progressing steadily, Evelyn’s team bragged about only taking leading roles in major productions. Her next gig was in an S+ fantasy historical drama, supported by a slew of popular stars Kai paid for. When the cast was announced, Twitter blew up, labeling Evelyn a talentless resource hog. Kai had his PR team manage the backlash quickly, preventing it from escalating. Lily joked, “Evelyn lands the female lead while your Gareth plays a bit part. You’re tough on boys but spoil girls. You and Kai think alike in that way.” “”Actually, this part is perfect for Gareth. A good role, even a small one, can make a big impact,” I explained. “I prefer steady, genuine growth over artificial boosts.” Lily fully agreed, “You’re right; forced fame brings bad luck. Don’t take on a job you’re not ready for.” Little did I know, Lily’s words would come true…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294581”, 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

My Boyfriend pretended to be a poor college student, but he’s actually the geir to New York’s Wealthiest Family. Even after my best friend suggested for the hundred and first time that I dump my freeloader of a boyfriend, I still refused. There was no way I would ever break up with him. That was until I overheard his secretary late one evening: “Since the fish are already on the hook, it’s time for me to reel them in.” “And what about Miss Keira?” he asked. “She loves money. We’ll just write her a check and be done with it.” Hearing this, I nearly laughed out loud. Finally, I’m going to get rich. Lately, Raphael Parsons has been sneaking out a lot behind my back. He always makes a great meal for me beforehand, doting on me with sweet words. Then, once I’m asleep, he tiptoes out quietly. Little does he know, I’m not actually asleep. Because every night, I’m praying he betrays me. So, tonight, after another long evening, Raphael quietly snuck out. This was the tenth time this month, and my patience was wearing thin. I threw on a coat and followed him out, silently slipping down the staircase. Pressing my ear to the door, I overheard his conversation. “Those old guys at the company are getting impatient. It’s time to wrap this up,” Raphael said. Another man’s respectful voice replied, “And what should we do about Miss Keira?” My heart tightened. Raphael had been freeloading off me for so long, eating my food, using my money. Surely, he wouldn’t just leave without a word? Raphael’s voice was low. “She’s obsessed with money. Just write her a check and be done with it.” The man seemed taken aback. “But Miss Keira has taken care of you for a while now. Isn’t just writing a check a bit heartless?” Raphael sounded annoyed, “What else? Should I take her back as my wife? She’s just a third-rate college grad working in a third-rate company. She isn’t fit to walk through the Parsons’ doors.” The man asked, “How much should the check be?” Raphael replied coldly, “Let her fill in the amount.” Hearing this, I slipped back to the room. I could hardly contain my excitement. “Let her fill in the amount.” Those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard.

Yes, it’s true. I’ve lived through this before. In my last life, I also met Raphael in the hospital, where he was pretending to have amnesia. I was charmed by his looks and took him home, feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a place to stay. Honestly, we had a blissful time together. I foolishly believed that love was everything. Raphael pretended he lost his memory during a car accident caused by a company dispute. Meanwhile, he was secretly reorganizing the entire Parsons Group. When the Parsons family came to fetch Raphael, around ten Rolls-Royces drove into my soon-to-be-demolished neighborhood. The entire area gathered to watch. Raphael donned a tailored suit and Rolex, handed me a $500,000 check as thanks, and said goodbye. Back then, I was all about Raphael and refused the check, wanting only to be with him forever. Raphael’s look of disdain still haunts me. He broke up with me, and I couldn’t take it. I exposed our relationship to the media, revealing his deceit. This scandal gave him a terrible reputation and caused uproar within the Parsons Group, destabilizing it again just after they had ended a power struggle. Under pressure, Raphael publicly proposed to me. On our wedding night, I saw news of him and a famous model at a hotel. Soon after, he tormented me daily, disgusted by my mere presence. He even purchased the media outlet I had exposed him to and outed me as the source. I became the villain, and the harassment drove me to depression, eventually leading to my suicide.

When I woke up, I found myself back in the hospital, where I first met Raphael. Seeing him pretending to be pitiful, I rolled my eyes. This time, I’m getting my $500,000. Forget revenge – I just want the money. Just as before, Raphael claimed he had amnesia and was head over heels for me. His chiseled face seemed to scream “$500,000.” I brought him home again. Everything proceeded just as it had in my past life. We got together, and I was even more attentive to him this time around. He was tired? I massaged his shoulders. Hungry? I cooked for him. Needed money? I transferred it to him. Even if he wanted to sleep with me? No problem. My longtime best friend, Maia, berated me for being blinded by love. Our neighbor wished his wife treated him as well as I treated Raphael. Our relationship blossomed, and Raphael even started cooking and caring for me. He’d often bring me lunch at work, making my coworkers envious of my attentive boyfriend. Ha – attentive? More like a dog. With Raphael freeloading off me and me focusing on making money, my career soared, and I got three promotions. But those small sums meant nothing. I wanted my $500,000. My phone buzzed. It was Maia’s hundred and first message telling me to break up with Raphael. “Keira, you need to dump that freeloader, or we’re done. Remember our dreams of getting rich?” In my past life, I refused because I loved Raphael. This time, I refused again but for the sake of riches. “Maia, I love Raphael, but it won’t interfere with our dreams. Get ready to pack up and get your passport. We’re flying high soon.” I sent the message just as I heard a sound outside. Raphael was back. Quickly, I put my phone down and pretended to be asleep. He slipped into bed, wrapped his arm around my waist, and fell asleep. As he slept soundly, I lay awake, too excited about the “write any amount” to sleep. Finally, my days of serving him were coming to an end. I was ready to sing songs of freedom.

After another month passed, I wondered why Raphael hadn’t returned as he had in my past life. One evening, I came home to flowers, balloons, candles, food, and music. “Keira, today marks our one-year anniversary,” Raphael said, dressed to the nines. Confused, I blinked. Seeing my lack of response, Raphael waved his hand in front of my face. “Keira, Keira, what are you thinking about?” I coughed. “Thinking of you, my dear. Wondering how much effort you put into surprising me. I’m so moved.” I feigned gratitude and snuggled into Raphael’s arms, kissing his chin. He held me tightly, rubbing his chin on my head. “It’s all for you,” he said. Fighting the urge to laugh, I remembered his past words about my “third-rate” status. “Will you ever leave me? I mean, I’m just a third-rate college grad working a third-rate job.” “Of course not!” he replied with conviction. Oh, the irony. “Really? Will you marry me then?” I asked, testing him. He faltered. Ha, caught him. “Of course I will,” he finally said. I didn’t expect him to agree, though his loathing of me was hard to miss. If only his acting skills were put to better use. Seeing him bring out a fancy velvet box, my eyes gleamed. Time to cash in. He handed it over, and I opened it, expecting a treasure. Instead, it was a red string. Disappointed, I asked, “What’s this?” “It’s a charm for your safety,” he said, oblivious to my internal stream of curses. “Really? I love it,” I lied, pecking him on the cheek. He kissed me back passionately, but my mind was on the check. The next morning, I woke to chatter. Raphael was already gone. Sore, I dragged myself to the window and saw a line of Rolls-Royces. Finally, it’s happening. I rushed downstairs barefoot. Out front, Raphael donned a sleek black suit, his gold-rimmed glasses, and a diamond-studded Rolex. Security surrounded him, bowing respectfully. The whole neighborhood was abuzz. Tears of joy welled up. I’d been waiting for this. Feigning shock, I yelled, “Who are you, and where are you taking my boyfriend?” A man in a suit pried me off Raphael. “Miss Keira, please. This is Mr. Parsons, heir to the Parsons Group. Here’s a check. Write any amount to thank you for caring for him.” I recognized the voice from that night. I trembled, tears streaming. Playing the part, I clung to Raphael. “Raphael, are you leaving me?”

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Mom was a quick traveler, moving from world to world with a mission and a system, wining over the hearts of the “male leads” and earning rewards. Usually, after completing a mission in one world, she would head to the next. But after winning over Dad, she chose to stay here forever. Our little family of three lived happily. But then, Dad fell for his secretary. Mom told Dad, “If you go see her again, I’m leaving.” Dad replied, “Where will you go? You have no family here.” But when Mom really left, Dad went crazy. I pushed open the bedroom door. Mom was lying quietly on the bed, as if she were asleep. I walked over and called softly, “Mom.” But she didn’t open her eyes and pull me into her embrace like she usually did. I placed my hand under her nose, but there was no breath. I knew then that my mom was gone.

Mom had told me she was a mission player. Because she successfully completed her task, she chose to stay in this world forever. She said this with a smiling face. Back then, I didn’t understand what “mission” meant, so I asked, “Mom, what’s your mission?” Mom held my small hand and said, “It’s to win over your dad, make him fall in love with me, and then have you! So, Candy, you’re Mom’s greatest gift.” She kissed my cheek gently and said she never regretted it. But later, Mom never smiled like that again. Because Dad fell for his secretary. People said that Dad would soon leave Mom and me. I angrily drove them away and hugged Mom. I thought, even if Dad didn’t want Mom, it’s okay. Mom still had me. Because she was my mom, so she would always stay with me.

Usually, Mom helped me change out of my pajamas, put on my clothes, and then took me to brush my teeth. She joked that at ten years old, I still needed her help; other kids would laugh at me. I would pout and say, “They’d just be jealous my mom takes such good care of me.” But now that Mom’s gone, I had to dress myself. When I got to the dining table, our nanny, May had breakfast ready. May asked me, “Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s still sleeping.” May was the nanny Mom hired for me, paying ten years’ salary in one go, to take care of me. Before, we didn’t have a nanny. Mom took care of everything at home. She was like Superwoman. After finishing chores and putting me to bed, she would study law books in the study for an hour each night to prepare for the bar exam. Dad didn’t understand and said, “Why do you tire yourself out? I support you, wouldn’t it be nice to relax?” But Mom would gently and firmly shake her head and say, “Rex, it’s my dream.” When she said that, her eyes shone brightly. I thought she looked so beautiful then, and Dad must have thought so too. He would reach out, impulsively hug her, and nuzzle into her neck like a puppy. Mom’s face would turn red and she’d push Dad away. “Candy’s right here.” I knew Dad and Mom were about to play a game they never let me join. I wanted to ask Mom to include me this time, but when Dad’s eyes landed on me, he said, “Candy, out.” I got scared and left obediently. Most times, Dad was nice to me. But I feared that look he gave me, making me agree to things without question. After that, things got better at home. Dad encouraged Mom to study for the bar and stayed up late with her. But the day before the exam, Dad took all of Mom’s documents and locked her in a room. He only let her out after the exam was over and he returned from work with me. Mom looked at Dad with fire in her eyes. “Rex, do you know I’ve prepared for a whole year for this? Do you know how important this is to me?” Ignoring her struggles, Dad held her tightly and softly said, “Evie, I’m sorry, but it’s for our family. I just want you to be home where I can hold you whenever I want. Candy feels the same way.” As he said this, he looked at me. I remembered Dad’s words from earlier that day: “If Mom becomes a lawyer, she’ll be traveling for work and forget all about you. And if she meets someone she likes, she might leave us.” Dad’s words scared me. I didn’t want Mom to leave. So, I held Mom’s hand and said, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I don’t want you to leave either.” Mom looked at me, her strength fading as she slumped into Dad’s arms. After a while, her dry voice finally made its way out. “Don’t let it happen again.” Dad smiled, satisfied. Even though things turned out as I wanted, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something terribly wrong when I saw Mom’s now dimmer eyes.

After breakfast, I returned to my bedroom and closed the door, quietly watching my mom. At ten years old, I understood life and death. But I wasn’t scared. Mom had told me she traveled to this world at eighteen. In her original world, she lay in bed in a hospital, with tubes in her body. When she succeeded in her mission, the system gave her a choice: go back home or stay here. She wanted to go back to see her mom but couldn’t bear to leave Dad, and especially me, so she stayed. I asked her, “Mom, can you stay with me forever?” “Of course,” she said. I remembered those words for a long time. Now, I just gently touched her nose and whispered, “Mom, you liar.” Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Dad; he hadn’t been home for a long time. Nora’s voice called out from outside, “Candy, open the door for Auntie. Auntie will take you home. I’ll be your mom.” I shouted back, “Go away! You’re not my mom, you’re a homewrecker!” After giving up on her law exam, Mom started focusing on taking care of Dad and me. We were happy. I thought we would always be happy. But then, Nora appeared. She was Dad’s newly hired secretary, always clumsy. Dad complained about her more often. I wondered why, if he found her so annoying, he didn’t just fire her. But he started coming home later and sometimes not at all. Nora even appeared in Dad’s social media posts. While shopping with Mom one day, we saw Dad with Nora. Mom dropped a vase she was holding. Dad looked over, his face instantly panicking before he pulled Nora’s wrist to chase after Mom. But Mom picked me up and ran, covering her mouth. That night, my parents fought. I hid behind the door, listening to Dad try to explain. He said he was only helping Nora because she was lonely and nothing was going on, treating her like a sister. Mom wasn’t buying it and coldly warned him, “If you see her again, I will leave.” Dad got angry, “Where would you go? You have no family here.” He knew Mom was a mission player. She gave up the chance to go back home for him and couldn’t leave this world. I remembered one time Dad made Mom mad, and she stormed out with her bag. I was frantic, begging Dad to go after her. But Dad just sat with his legs crossed, reading the paper, saying, “Where can she go?” That night, Mom came back with red eyes and bags of groceries. “Rex, I bought food for you guys.” She opened the takeout boxes—it was my favorite crab meat dumplings and Dad’s favorite chive wontons. I happily ate my dumplings while Mom quietly ate leftovers from last night. Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I thought, if Mom had a family to go back to, she would take the longest train or flight to get there. But her family was in another world; she had nowhere else to go. Dad banked on that to keep her in line.、

Outside, Nora knocked on the door for a while before falling silent. I thought she had left. But an hour later, I heard the lock being picked. The security camera showed a stranger. I got scared. Mom always said that if a stranger came when kids were home alone, they should find an adult. I couldn’t get Mom, so I ran to the kitchen to find May. “May, there’s someone outside, and I don’t know them.” May grabbed a kitchen knife, swallowing nervously. She stood by the door with me. When the lock finally clicked open, Nora stood there smiling and handed the locksmith $20. “Thank you, sir.” May said, “Miss Nora, how could you do this?” Nora replied, “Candy, your dad sent me to take you home. But you wouldn’t see me, so I had no other choice.” She reached out to grab me. I bit her hand hard and shouted, “I won’t go with you! Forget it!” Nora screamed, and I tasted blood in my mouth before I let go. She shoved me to the ground angrily and stormed out. My hand got scraped on the floor, and it started bleeding. May quickly brought the first-aid kit. As she bandaged my hand, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom, it hurts.” But my mom couldn’t hear me anymore. She used to spend time with Dad and me every day. Now she was gone, and I finally understood what missing someone felt like. I remembered when I was six, and Dad took us back to his hometown for a family gathering. The house was packed with Dad’s relatives: uncles, aunts, grandparents… so many people. But Mom and I were alone. That day, Mom cooked an entire feast by herself. Even when we sat to eat, she was still bustling in the kitchen. Uncle and Dad’s brother praised Dad, “You found an amazing and hardworking wife.” Dad smiled proudly. Mom, wiping flour off her forehead and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, smiled shyly. By the time she sat down to eat, most of the food was gone. I told her I was tired, so she quickly finished a few bites and took me upstairs. But at the staircase, she stopped and looked back. I did too, curious. Grandpa and Grandma were handing out red envelopes, uncles and Dad were talking about work, and the aunts were playing cards. They were all with family. Mom stared for a long time. I tugged at her hand and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of it and looked at me. Amidst the noise and lights, her eyes were filled with sadness. “Yaya, what do you think my mom is doing right now?” Turns out, my mom missed her mom too.

After May finished bandaging my hand, she glanced at Mom’s room and frowned. “It’s almost dark. Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s really tired. Let her sleep a bit more.” May sighed, “It’s been days, and Mr. hasn’t even come to check on us.” Dad hadn’t been home in a long time. He once said he was on a business trip, but he was actually on vacation with Nora. Nora had flaunted those photos in front of Mom, telling her to divorce Dad and give up her spot. Mom’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the photos. She had wanted to visit that place for a long time and had asked Dad to take her, but he was always busy. Now he had taken Nora instead. Mom showed Dad the photos. Instantly, Dad’s face changed. He claimed they were photoshopped, saying they didn’t count. Mom’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Rex, what did you promise me when we got married? That you’d only love me and be good to me. Otherwise, why would I stay here?” Dad retorted, “Haven’t I been good to you? A million-dollar house, diamond rings, designer clothes—you asked for them, and I gave them.” Mom shook her head, whispering, “We just can’t communicate.” She threw Dad’s clothes and shoes out of the house. He, feeling humiliated, said he wouldn’t come back. And from that day, he really didn’t. Soon, Nora’s house caught fire, so she moved in with Dad. Mom didn’t cry when she heard. She just hugged me gently. “Now I understand that people’s hearts and love can change, and promises only matter when they are made,” Mom said softly. “But it’s too late to regret now.” 8 That night, I brushed my teeth by myself and used a towel to clean my small body. Then, I climbed into bed and hugged Mom. Even though her body was stiff and cold, as long as she lay there, I felt happy. I once asked, “Mom, what kind of person is your mom?” Mom never talked about her dad, and her mom was her only relative. “Mom was strict. She would hit and scold me when I didn’t do my homework,” she said. I frowned, not understanding why she would miss someone like that. Sometimes Mom had nightmares and called out for “Mom,” not Dad. Mom’s voice changed as she continued, “But when I was diagnosed with leukemia at sixteen, Mom never got angry again. She quit her job, sold the house, and took care of me every day.” “My mom loved me a lot,” she said with a mix of pride and sadness. I realized Mom never forgot her mother. When she traveled to this world at eighteen, she was still just a girl. One day, I found Mom crying secretly by the window after learning Dad was on vacation with Nora. She said she shouldn’t have let love cloud her judgment, giving up everything, including her mom, whom she could never see again. 9 Mom had asked Dad for a divorce. A month after he moved out, she invited him back home. Dad showed up in a black suit with his hair slicked back, looking more handsome than ever. That day, Mom cooked a big meal. Dad smugly said, “Changed your mind?” I sat at the table, excited, hoping they would reconcile. But Mom put down her chopsticks and said, “Rex, let’s get a divorce.” I knew what divorce meant—Dad and Mom would be separated forever, and we’d rarely be together. Dad’s expression changed instantly. “Evie, you’re making a big deal out of nothing! I won’t do anything with Nora. I still love you. Why can’t you be more understanding?” Mom said, “To me, this isn’t a small issue. You broke your promise and betrayed our love. How can I be understanding?” Dad, looking worried, angrily said, “If we divorce, where will you go? Who do you know here besides Candy and me?” Mom, choking up, replied, “If I don’t know anyone, I’ll meet new people. If I run out of money, I’ll wash dishes and mop floors. I can take care of Candy by myself.” Dad sneered, “Go ahead and try.” He turned and left in a hurry. In the following days, Mom sent out many job applications, but they were all rejected. She kept applying, hundreds, thousands of times. Until a kind person told her: “Miss Bailey, Mr. Rex has made it known that no one should hire you.” Soon, a lawyer came with documents for Mom. “What’s this?” Mom asked. “It’s a comparison of you and Mr. Rex’s assets,” the lawyer explained. “If you go to court for custody, unfortunately, you won’t have much chance.” Mom turned pale. I clung to her shirt, petrified. Shortly afterward, Dad’s relatives showed up, surrounding Mom with interrogation-like questions. “With Rex’s great conditions, you still want to divorce? You won’t get a better chance.” “Ungrateful. What does Rex even see in her?” Mom, coldly, said, “Stop trying to convince me. I’m divorcing him.” One softened their tone, “Evie, think about the child. How upset she’d be if she knew her parents were divorcing.” Mom looked momentarily moved. The group quickly said: “Yes, the child needs a healthy childhood.” “Everything for the kid. What’s so hard to bear?” Someone pushed me towards Mom, smiling, “Candy, do you want your parents to divorce? If they do, you’ll be without a mom.” Tears welled in my eyes. I hugged Mom tightly, scared, “Mom, please don’t leave Dad. Candy can’t bear losing you.” Mom, eyes filled with unshed tears, said softly, “Alright.” Her voice was like a sigh. Mom gave up. I thought this meant she’d stay forever. But little did I know some birds can’t be caged—their very feathers shine with freedom.

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After Edward’s undercover work ended, it felt like he had become a different person. He would often stare blankly out of the window, with sadness and melancholy in his eyes. He no longer lifted our daughter up and twirled her around, calling her “baby.” He stopped bringing flowers home after work, and he even avoided my affectionate gestures. Later, on the day our daughter Doris was hit by a car, I saw him tenderly kissing another woman in the rain. I was in a meeting when I received the news about Doris’s accident. When I heard the words “died on the spot,” I froze. I rushed to the funeral home like a madwoman, finding Doris’s contorted body lying on a cold table. The yellow dress I personally put on her that morning became her burial clothing. Chaos surrounded me—some people tried to console me, others were interrogating, and the truck driver was hurriedly explaining, “It was your daughter who ran the red light. It’s not my fault!” I collapsed to the ground, desperately yelling, “How could she run a red light? Where is her father? Where is her father?” “Mrs. Jane, your daughter was alone when she got off the bus. We didn’t see any accompanying adult,” a police officer told me. I had always taken Doris to her piano lessons, but this one time, she asked for her daddy to take her. Ever since Edward came back from his year-long assignment, his attitude towards us had become cold and distant. He liked to be alone, avoided eye contact with me, often made excuses to sit in the car and smoke, and even got irritated with Doris’s playful requests. Our beloved daughter couldn’t understand why her dad had changed. Innocently, she just wanted to mend their relationship. I agreed, sending the two of them off before heading to my meeting. I never imagined that this one time would cost Doris her life. I called Edward repeatedly, only to be met with busy signals. My own parents were far away, and with my mother-in-law gravely ill, I was left to face this devastating blow alone. Finally, under my signature, Doris was reduced to a small box of ashes. Holding her ashes, I walked back to the neighborhood like a zombie, only to find Edward. He was in the rain, gently lifting the face of another woman and kissing her deeply. The woman was petite, nestled softly in Edward’s arms. They kissed for so long that even I, as an onlooker, had not noticed. Doris’s tragic demise flashed through my mind, juxtaposed with the scene before me. It was almost laughable. At this moment, I didn’t know whether to feel anger or sorrow. I didn’t even have the energy to question or rage; I just stood there, empty-headed. I should have seen it coming. Given Edward’s unique job, I had always known I’d have to manage the household independently when I married him. For seven years, I worked during the day and tended to my ailing mother-in-law at night. I single-handedly set up our new home, carrying tiles up six flights of stairs to save a few hundred dollars. When I got pregnant, I fainted from vomiting in the bathroom and lay there for seven or eight hours before anyone discovered me. I attended prenatal appointments alone, feeling out of place among couples. My water broke in the middle of the night, but I took a cab to the hospital by myself and signed the necessary papers alone. When I was sad, he wasn’t there. When I was happy, he still wasn’t. I was like a lone ranger; many asked where my husband was, but due to confidentiality, I would brush them off, making me seem like a pitiful widow.

I always believed my sacrifices were worth it because he loved his job, and I loved him. We had happy times too. When he wasn’t busy, he’d travel two hours just to get a cake for me. He’d come home with a bouquet of roses, stay up all night to care for the newborn Doris, change diapers, feed her, and do household chores. He loved holding my face, pressing his forehead against mine, and saying, “Jane, thank you. Without you, we wouldn’t have this family. I will always love you.” Then he went on that year-long assignment. I didn’t know what he was doing, but once, I ran into him selling seafood at a market. I pretended we were strangers and walked past him. After that, we had no contact for a year. When he returned, he was like a different person. He could go the whole day without speaking a word and showed no concern for our household. It was like a stranger sleeping next to me. I tried to mend our relationship, but Edward found excuses to avoid me. He eventually looked at me with a strange expression and sarcastically said, “I never realized before how much you crave intimacy.” Now, I finally understood our problem. I stood there for a long time before the woman noticed me. She seemed flustered, pushing Edward away and nervously shrinking into his arms. Edward’s face showed a rare hint of panic. He instinctively shielded the woman before quickly calming down and said, “Jane, she’s innocent. Don’t take your anger out on her. I’ll come home and explain.” “No need.” I coldly looked at the man I once loved deeply and asked, “I asked you to take Doris to her piano lesson. Where did you go?” “I got a work call and couldn’t leave. I watched her get on the bus. It was only a couple of blocks after getting off. She’s four; she knows the way.” Edward explained. Grief made me double over, barely able to stand. Tears mixed with rainwater streamed down my face. Doris was only four years old. He let a four-year-old girl take a half-hour bus ride alone and then walk another kilometer to her lesson. He knew better than anyone how dangerous the world could be, yet he neglected his own daughter. “Is this ‘work’ you mentioned just making out with her?” I raised my voice, pointing at the girl in his arms. She looked young, possibly still in college, and she bit her lip nervously, trembling. Edward instinctively comforted her before looking at me with impatience. “Jane, stop scaring her. Try to understand the demands of my job, you used to be reasonable…” I couldn’t hold it in any longer and slapped him hard. The girl screamed and reached out to touch Edward’s cheek, her face full of concern. “We’re getting a divorce.” With that, I walked away without looking back. Two hours later, Edward came back. Seeing that I had packed up most of the house, he frowned deeply. “I’m exhausted. Can you stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum?” “You think this is a tantrum?” I was too tired to argue, just staring coldly at him.

“Edward, do you even care about this family? If you did, Doris wouldn’t have…” “Michelle started out as just a friend,” Edward interrupted me roughly. He was silent for a long time before slowly beginning to talk about the other woman. “This past year, she’s been there for me, doing everything for me.” As he spoke, his expression softened. Edward described Michelle as a foolish girl who knew he had a family but still loved him steadfastly. He said she had a hero complex and had risked her life to save him several times. He said she was carefree, liked to wear short skirts, and frequently had wardrobe malfunctions, but she would complain that he was too controlling. He talked about their countless nights huddled together for warmth, holding hands and leaning against each other, feeling like he was ten years younger. In the end, he said, “I know our relationship has gone beyond friendship. Give me time, and I’ll forget her and live properly with you.” Edward closed his eyes, looking pained. “She’s young and naive, but I can’t be. I’ve already wasted a year of her life. I can’t keep holding her back.” I could barely breathe. Edward knew what he was saying. He was telling his wife about his romance with another woman. It felt like I was the third party, forcing him to abandon his true love for family duty. Edward remembered her sacrifices for him, but what about mine? Did my seven years of love and dedication mean nothing? After a long pause, I regained my composure. “I’ll give you freedom instead.” I grabbed my suitcase and pushed past him, heading downstairs. Edward grabbed my hand, his eyes pleading. “Jane, I promise, today was my last meeting with her. I still love you. I want to give Doris a complete family…” “Don’t mention Doris!” I lost control, hurling my bag at him. Sharp decorations cut his face and neck, causing blood to flow. He stood there, stunned. I didn’t look back and left. I rented an apartment near my office, contacted a lawyer, and started packing up, arranging my daughter’s funeral. While I was busy, the hospital called. “Jane, your mother-in-law Alice has taken a turn for the worse. Please come quickly…” I grabbed my bag and rushed out. Alice had terminal cancer. After marrying Edward, I had taken it upon myself to care for her. I did everything except bear the pain of her illness. Over seven years, I spent at least four nights a week at the hospital. Only these past few days, overwhelmed by Doris’s situation, did I forget about Alice in the hospital. Rushing in, I didn’t expect to find Michelle chatting happily with Alice. She wasn’t wearing the short skirts Edward mentioned but was dressed modestly in long sleeves and pants, looking clean and respectable. Anyone would find her likable. Alice and Michelle seemed very close, talking like mother and daughter. “Alice…” I croaked. Alice quickly waved me over to introduce me. “Jane, this is Edward’s coworker’s sister. Did he mention her?” Michelle looked nervous when she saw me, standing up from her chair. She stammered, “We’ve met…” Not responding, I watched Michelle’s eyes redden as she lowered her head and ran out, bumping into Edward coming in. She seemed relieved, grabbing his sleeve and hiding behind him, looking at me. Edward held a medical report, frowning at me. “Jane, you can be mad at me, but my mom did nothing to you. Is this how you’ve been taking care of her?” He threw the report at me, words like “critical condition” and “organ failure” glaring back at me. Before I could respond, Alice shouted, “Shut up!” “If not for Jane, I’d have died in the hospital long ago. You, who I barely see twice a year, have no right to say anything about Jane!”

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I’ve been in a relationship with a younger guy for three years now. This morning, I woke up and, like always, tried to kiss him and say good morning. But he moved away instinctively, looking somewhat disgusted. He’s just turned 21, still in college, and already he’s pushing me away. He got up, grabbed his phone, and went straight to the bathroom. Moments later, I could hear sounds of him pleasuring himself. My heart shattered. I sat there on the bed, stunned, listening to him in the bathroom. Watching as Adam picked out his clothes, sprayed on some cologne, checked himself out in the mirror, and then hurried off to school. Not once did he look at me. I picked up Adam’s iPad from the nightstand and glanced through his chat history with a lingerie store salesperson. Salesperson: It’s been a while since you last shopped with us. We have some new items in stock. Adam: Not interested anymore. I’m not into her at all now. I’m just 21, and she’s already 35, nearly 36. Her wrinkles gross me out, I can’t get it up. Salesperson: … Salesperson: Really? You used to buy from us frequently. You said you loved your girlfriend. Adam: I felt something for her because she was easygoing and took care of me. She always made up first when we argued. Now, it’s just pointless. Being with her doesn’t feel like a relationship. When I find someone young and cute, I’ll shop with you again. I scratched my head and laughed at myself. I’d seen this chat last night, but I still tried to test him. He’s fallen out of love with me. He’s repulsed by my aging. His ideal girl is probably the one whose photos he looks at before heading to the bathroom. I fell back onto the bed, surprised that I didn’t shed a tear. For a woman my age, crying and breaking down just isn’t dignified.

I got up and started my morning routine. By noon, I began to receive birthday emails from various brand websites where I’m subscribed. That’s when I remembered—it’s my birthday today. I stared blankly at the withered roses on the coffee table, recalling how three years ago today, it was 18-year-old Adam who first confessed his love to me. Back then, Adam had just started college and was being bullied while working part-time at my company. I helped him out. He looked at me with idolizing eyes, following me everywhere. I found it annoying and ended up having him help me with work directly. The Adam of that time was innocent and sincere. He would steal glances at me, and when I looked back, he’d quickly turn away, his ears slowly turning red. When other boys in the part-time job tried to win me over, Adam would get anxious, sticking close to me like a wolf guarding its territory. Occasionally, when our bodies accidentally brushed, he’d blush shyly. On my 32nd birthday, he showed up with a huge bouquet of my favorite roses and a birthday cake. The bashful yet determined look in his eyes, he said he loved me. I told him we had a big age gap and needed to think about it. Adam was filled with unease for those few days. When I finally said yes, he shouted in excitement. He hugged me tightly, his deep voice in my ear, “Every birthday of yours from now on will be our anniversary, and I’ll always be there.” My phone kept buzzing with birthday wishes from family, friends, and even colleagues. But not a single message from Adam. I got up and threw the wilted flowers from the vase into the trash. Things that have gone bad shouldn’t be kept. That applies to both flowers and people.

I got ready and went to work. Everything changes, but the effort I put into my work and my bank balance remain constant. Late that night, my assistant handed me a box. “Serena, I almost forgot! Here’s that Apple phone you wanted me to get.” She checked her watch and smiled, “It’s still 11:55, so we made it. Happy birthday, Serena!” I smiled back and took the box, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. Still, no word from Adam. To him, today was just another day. This phone wasn’t meant as my birthday gift. It was supposed to be for our third anniversary. Before leaving work, I texted Adam. “Come home early after school tomorrow. I want to talk to you.” “Anything you want for dinner?” After a while, he replied, “Whatever.”

I sat in the car all night, staring at Adam’s “Whatever” text. Scrolling up, I saw just how many more messages I sent compared to him, including all the money I transferred to him. Most of my messages were about what he wanted to eat, where he wanted to go, or me sharing news about my day. Adam either responded with “Whatever” or not at all. Scrolling further up, I saw that for the past six months, almost every conversation was one-sided, with me talking and him barely responding. I sighed softly. His indifference to me was painfully clear. I watched as the night turned into sunrise. Once Adam left for school, I returned to our apartment near his campus, where we lived together after we started dating. Clothes were strewn carelessly on the sofa. I threw them into the washing machine and then started preparing dinner. Lost in thought, I accidentally cut my finger. Blood quickly pooled on the floor. When Adam came home, I was holding a tissue tightly around my finger. He didn’t look at me, only glanced at the table and frowned. He sat down without a second thought, picking through the food disdainfully. To him, maybe I was like the meal, becoming tiresome. “Adam…” Adam responded with a distracted “Yeah,” while still texting on his phone, a pleased smile on his face. “I need to go out,” I said, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness as I looked at my bleeding finger, tears beginning to well up. “Adam…” All I wanted was for him to look at me. But all I got was another careless “Yeah.” I sniffed, wiping my eyes before heading to the pharmacy downstairs. The young girl there looked alarmed. “The cut’s deep. Let me wrap it up, but you really should see a doctor.” I shook my head and left. Back at home, as I pushed open the door, a sickly sweet “Adam, you’re amazing” echoed in the living room. Adam quickly paused the voice message, awkwardly looking up. “Where’s my blue shirt? I want to wear it tomorrow.” He then continued eating as if nothing happened. In the mirror at the entrance, I saw my swollen eyes and pale face. Tears threatened to spill, a wave of sadness washing over me. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and sat down across from Adam. “Yesterday was our three-year anniversary. Do you want a gift?” His phone kept buzzing with messages from “sweet pie,” probably the young girl he fancied. Adam flipped his phone face-down, irritation in his voice, “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.” I took out the phone box. “I got you something. The latest Apple phone you’ve been wanting.” Adam’s eyes lit up, but just as he reached for it, my phone rang. In the silent room, my mom’s voice was loud and clear. “You’re almost 40. I’ve introduced you to some good prospects. If you don’t plan on marrying, what is it you want? You keep saying you have a boyfriend, but I’ve never even seen him!” Instinctively, I looked at Adam. He lowered his eyes, looking guilty. After a few curt responses, I hung up the call. Adam had pushed the phone box back to me, looking resigned. Taking the box, I smiled. “If you don’t want it, forget it. Are you full? This dinner was for our anniversary, and it’s also our last meal together.” Looking into his eyes, I said calmly, “Adam, let’s break up.”

Adam froze, then sighed in relief. “Okay.” His answer was firm, almost like he feared I’d change my mind. He looked me in the eyes, guilt mixed in his voice: “I’m not in love with you anymore. I never planned on marrying you.” “You can think I’m an asshole, but it’s the truth.” “Sorry.” I lowered my gaze, not wanting to look at him. When we first got together, I had asked Adam, “I’m 14 years older than you. I’ll get old quickly, and you won’t love me then.” Back then, Adam would smile and pull me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “They say loved women don’t age. I’ll tell you I love you a thousand times a day, and you’ll never get old.” That day on, Adam always said he loved me. Once he stopped saying it daily, I knew I’d grown old in his eyes. The same Adam who used to say “I love you” all the time now easily says he doesn’t love me, for the sake of a breakup. I found it almost funny. Calmly, I nodded, “It’s over.” Adam looked surprised at my calmness.

Our breakup was oddly peaceful. Adam awkwardly grabbed a suitcase, planning to pack his things, but soon walked out empty-handed. From the couch, where I sat, I almost laughed. Most of the stuff here was bought by me for him. What did he have to pack? He shot me a quick glance, murmured, “I’m leaving,” and bolted out of the apartment like he was finally free. The room was filled with traces of Adam, from the gaming computer to the socks in the drawer. There were debate scripts I helped him write when he participated in school competitions, and PowerPoint slides I stayed up all night to make for his student council. Even the clothes I bought for him. I remembered the time he forgot his USB drive at home, and I rushed over to his school to deliver it. He snapped at me, “Why did you come here?” He grabbed the USB and walked off, while his friends chuckled and one waved, saying, “Bye, Nanny!” Annoyed, I grabbed some trash bags and tossed all the junk inside. After cleaning, the apartment felt empty. Exhausted, I collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock was deafening in the silence. I picked up my phone. Adam’s Instagram had a new update. “I am finally free. Ending the wrong to find the right.” And just moments ago, at 2 AM, he had another post: “Can’t sleep.” He must be struggling with dorm life. When he complained about noisy roommates and the hard dorm bed, I got him this apartment. Lost in thought, my phone vibrated with notifications from Adam’s secondary credit card. I froze his card immediately. With that done, fatigue washed over me. Rolling over, I fell into a deep sleep.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294577”, 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

On the day of my divorce, while my mother-in-law basked in the spotlight of congratulatory messages for the ultrasound of Wesley Wick’s mistress, I took a different approach. With a cold smile, I shared Wesley’s premarital checkup report—a document that exposed the truth behind the facade. The report clearly stated: “Wesley Wick, Male, Diagnosed with Congenital Azoospermia.” “I don’t want a man who can’t have children!” Wesley and I met in college and got together after graduation. After graduation, my salary wasn’t high, barely enough to make ends meet, so we had to rent a shabby, unfinished apartment. Wesley and I worked at the same company. After work, he would drive me home, and during holidays, he would give me little gifts. If nothing else, he would at least take me out for hamburgers. I grew up in the shadows of neglect, my parents absent and my childhood devoid of wealth or stability. The only beacon in my turbulent life was my grandmother As a child, others would say I was a wild child that Grandma picked up. I never believed them. After Grandma passed away, I had no home, so I envied those who did. Because I lacked love growing up, I became increasingly dependent on Wesley. When we were dating, he was gentle and considerate, always taking care of my feelings, never looking down on my family or background. I was young and mistook his cheap kindness for love. When he proposed, he promised to give me a happy and fulfilling family. I was overjoyed and married him.Once we were engaged, Wesley’s relatives made their opinions known, snickering behind my back. They called me a wild chicken trying to be a phoenix, hinting at my questionable origins and even suggesting I might be carrying some mysterious illness. They insisted on a premarital medical checkup. I took a deep breath and pushed aside my pride, swallowing the sting of their words for Wesley’s sake. When the results came out, it turned out that Wesley had congenital azoospermia, meaning we wouldn’t be able to have children, and there was no cure for it. I cherished our relationship and loved him deeply, so I chose to keep it a secret to protect his feelings. I wanted to live a good life with him, and I thought that as long as we loved each other, it didn’t matter if we couldn’t have children; we could always adopt one if we wanted. That was my thinking, but others didn’t see it that way. After we got married, my mother-in-law made my life difficult in every possible way. She started by insisting that I quit my job to have a child and be a stay-at-home wife. At first, I refused, but Wesley persuaded me, promising that he would earn money to support us while I stayed at home, beautiful and carefree. I believed his sweet words, quit my job, and became a full-time housewife. But what awaited me after marriage was endless grievances and heartache. Every morning, I woke up to cook, and after cooking, I would wash clothes, mop the floor, and wash the dishes after eating. After cleaning up, just as I was about to rest, my mother-in-law would throw a pile of underwear at me. This wasn’t the first time she had asked me to wash her undergarments. With a weary sigh, I looked at her and said, “Mom, undergarments and other personal clothing are meant to be washed by the wearer. It’s not my place to handle such private matters.” She was busy texting someone to come over and play mahjong and looked up at me with a glare: “If I tell you to wash it, then wash it. Where do you get so much nonsense?” I refused. I threw the basin into the bathroom and went back to my room to change the bed sheets. My mother-in-law started cursing loudly in the living room, “So now you think you’re tough? Did we marry you to treat you like a queen? Look in the mirror; do you really think you’re goddess? Get out here and wash those clothes, or I’ll call my son to teach you a lesson!” I couldn’t take it anymore. “I married into your family, but I wasn’t sold to you. I didn’t take a penny of dowry when I married. If you want a maid, hire one!” I slammed the door and cried on the bed. My mother-in-law called Wesley, playing the victim. When he came home, he dragged me out of bed, “Diana, apologize to Mom!” Every time we argued, he always sided with his mother! “Why should I apologize? What did I do wrong? She bullies me, and you want me to apologize?” I wiped away my tears and turned away from him. My mother-in-law also came into the room, her words biting, “I told you not to marry her, and look, it hasn’t been long, and she’s already trying to dominate me.” Wesley pushed her out of the room, “Alright, Mom, enough. I’ll talk to her.” He handed me a tissue to wipe my tears, “Diana, Mom is old, and she has a heart condition. You’re so magnanimous, you should be more accommodating, right? Just go and make peace with her.” He knew I was soft-hearted and wouldn’t hold a grudge against his mother, so he coaxed me into apologizing. But little did he know, the more I let it slide, the more she bullied me!

One night, my period came, and I stained the bed and my pajamas. I got up, took off my pajamas, and left them in the bathroom, thinking I’d wash them the next day since it was so late. The next morning, I was woken up by my mother-in-law yelling. She didn’t even knock before barging in and throwing the bed sheets at me. “Get up and wash this! Isn’t it disgusting?” I was in pain, “Mom, my stomach hurts. Let me rest for a bit, and I’ll wash it later.” She went berserk and dragged me out of bed: “How dare you say your stomach hurts? It’s been so long, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant!” The blanket was yanked off, and I was left with nothing to wear. I covered my chest and picked up the blanket, feeling like my dignity had been trampled on. My tone grew cold: “I’m going to get dressed and wash the sheets. Please leave.” Luckily, her phone rang, saving us from a full-blown argument. My mother-in-law had arranged another mahjong game with her relatives. As I hung clothes on the balcony, I overheard her relatives gossiping inside. “Your daughter-in-law still hasn’t gotten pregnant?” “Who knows? No sign of it yet.” “Could she be infertile?” “Exactly! My daughter got pregnant right after getting married, and now the baby’s already over a year old.” “Maybe you should try some folk remedies?” My mother-in-law glanced at me with a sneer: “I bet she’s just a chicken that can’t lay eggs.” What kind of mother-in-law would joke about her daughter-in-law like this? I couldn’t stand listening any longer. I called Wesley several times, but he didn’t pick up. When he got home, his mother immediately pulled him aside to whisper. When he came back to our room, I wanted to talk to him, but he was busy texting on his phone. I tried to grab his phone, and he snapped at me, “Stop making trouble! I’m busy with work!” I was taken aback, “What work do you have to do at home?” “If I don’t work, what will you eat and drink? All the money in this house comes from my hard work. All you do is spend money. You can’t even take care of my mom!” I couldn’t believe what he was saying: “What money have I spent? Apart from groceries and living expenses, what have I used? Your mom bullies me every day, and you say I haven’t taken care of her?” “I’m tired. I don’t want to argue!” He turned away to sleep. I cried silently. I couldn’t sleep the whole night.

After that, I stopped complaining to Wesley about his mother. There was no point; he would never take my side. I endured for over six months just to keep a semblance of a home. But Wesley’s frequent late returns from work made me suspicious. He would always come home and immediately grab his phone, sometimes with a doting smile, which he would quickly hide if I noticed. One day, I followed Wesley in a taxi. He went to a high-end residential area where I couldn’t get in, so I waited downstairs. After a while, Wesley came out with a woman whose belly was slightly swollen. They got into a car, and I hurriedly followed them to a hospital. When they got out, I saw the woman’s face clearly. It was his cousin, Sally Rune. I didn’t understand why she needed her cousin to accompany her for a prenatal checkup. Just as I was about to follow them into the hospital, my phone rang. It was the police station. “Hello, is this Diana Helm?” “Yes, this is she. How can I help you?” “Well, earlier, a blood test you had matched with a missing girl’s parents at a 99% rate. Could you come in when you have time to discuss this?” I was shocked and forgot all about Wesley and Sally. I rushed to the police station. Before Grandma passed away, she told me that we were not related by blood and that she had found me on her way back from the city after buying medicine. She was all alone, so she brought me back. Grandma also gave me a pendant that was around my neck when she found me, saying it was the proof to reunite with my biological parents. If these people were indeed my real parents, they would recognize this pendant. At the police station, I handed over the pendant and explained the situation. Soon, a luxury car pulled up, and a plump, well-dressed woman got out. When she saw the pendant, she cried and hugged me tightly, “Isabelle, I’m your mother! My dear Isabelle!” It turned out my real name was Isabelle Gade. My eyes welled up, and I hugged her tightly. Then a middle-aged man got out of the car, and I was stunned. It was Frank Gade, the CEO of the company where Wesley worked. I couldn’t believe I was the long-lost daughter of the Gade family! My mother explained that I had wandered off as a child and never returned. They had searched for me for years but never found me. Grandma and I had always lived in the countryside, where information was scarce, so it was difficult to locate me. After Grandma passed, I came to the city to finish college while working part-time. My biological parents wanted to take me home, but I told them I was married and needed to share the good news with my husband and bring him along. My mother agreed, gave me their contact information, and sent me back to the neighborhood. I walked home, excited to give Wesley a surprise. But as soon as I reached the door, I heard a conversation that tore my heart apart. “Sign this agreement immediately,” my mother-in-law’s voice came from inside. “Mom, how do I explain this to her? I’m afraid she’ll cling to me.” My mother-in-law cursed, “What are you afraid of? You’re the only male heir of the Wick family, and we’re counting on you to carry on the family line. Besides, you’ve already gotten Sally pregnant. Are you not going to give her a proper status?” That’s when I realized there was another woman crying inside. No wonder Wesley had been sneaking around lately; he was hiding an affair! And the mistress was his cousin! I clearly remembered that Wesley was infertile, so there was no way he could have gotten her pregnant. I quickly went back to the hospital, pulled up the medical records, and confirmed with the doctor that his condition was congenital and incurable. My mother-in-law called me, telling me to come home immediately because there was something to discuss. I put the medical report in my bag, feeling a mix of emotions. This was getting more and more interesting!

I entered the house, and only my mother-in-law was sitting on the sofa. I looked around, but Wesley and that mistress were nowhere to be seen. My mother-in-law threw a document at me and kept yelling, “Hurry up and sign it! The Wick family has had only one male heir for three generations. We can’t keep a hen that can’t lay eggs.” I picked up the agreement and took a glance. How heartless! I had sacrificed my career and best years to marry a man who couldn’t have children. I resigned from my job to become a full-time housewife, enduring endless humiliation just to keep the family harmonious and happy. And now, after my husband cheated on me, my mother-in-law despised me for not being able to have children and wanted to kick me out with nothing. I wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes and started laughing. My mother-in-law was startled, “What… what are you laughing at?” I looked at Wesley’s signature on the divorce agreement, noticing how hastily he had signed it. I stared coldly at her, “What am I laughing at? I’m laughing at the fact that I didn’t go downstairs to buy some firecrackers to celebrate leaving your family. When he proposed, he swore he would love me forever, protect me, and give me a happy life. And now he’s treating me so cruelly!” My mother-in-law was furious, pointing her finger at me, “Say that again!” I swatted her hand away, “You’re not my mother, and I won’t tolerate you any longer. Do you want me to sign this or not?” She didn’t say another word and put her hand down, probably afraid that I wouldn’t sign it. I signed the divorce agreement, then looked up at her and said, “Tell Wesley to come back so we can go finalize the divorce right now.” She hadn’t expected me to agree so quickly. For the first time, she spoke to me with a somewhat decent attitude. “Alright, alright! A wise person knows when to give in. I’ll call him right now.” How ironic. A while later, Wesley called me to come downstairs. I took the agreement and went down. As soon as I opened the car door, I saw Sally sitting in the front passenger seat. “Wesley, what’s the meaning of this? You’re bringing her along to disgust me during our divorce?” I asked coldly. “Sally is pregnant and needs someone to take care of her. She gets nauseous in the back seat, so you should sit in the back,” he replied, not daring to look me in the eye. It was laughable. If he hadn’t mentioned the pregnancy, it might have been better. He still didn’t know about his congenital azoospermia. He thought he was cheating on me, but in reality, she was cheating on him. This was karma! It’s true that justice eventually catches up with everyone. Sally began to speak, “Please don’t be upset. Wesley and I are truly in love. I’m sorry.” Unbelievable. I hadn’t even started crying, and Sally was already playing the victim! “I can’t accept your apology. Your face isn’t thick enough to carry the weight of your actions.” Wesley squeezed her hand, “Sally, don’t apologize. The fault lies with me, not you. You’re innocent, don’t stress yourself.” Were they seriously putting on a tragic love drama in front of me? I sarcastically commented, “How many months along are you? Are you sure the baby is Wesley’s?” Sally visibly hesitated for a moment, “Of… of course it’s Wesley’s. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean you should question the child I’m carrying.” Wesley frowned and looked at me through the rearview mirror, “Diana, you’ve had trouble conceiving, and Mom is anxious to have a grandchild. If you’re angry, take it out on me, not on Sally.” So, after cheating on me, he’s now blaming me for everything? How shameless! “So, you’re saying it’s my fault that I couldn’t get pregnant? Did I force you to do something dirty with your cousin behind my back?” Sally jumped in, “Please don’t argue with Wesley. It’s all my fault. I’ve always liked him, and I’m the one who seduced him.” I wasn’t falling for her act. “So, you’re admitting you’re cheap enough to seduce someone else’s husband?” “Sally, ignore this shrew!” Wesley snapped, growing more impatient. The two of them were acting as if I was the one who had ruined their relationship. The car finally stopped in front of the civil affairs bureau. After we finalized the divorce, Wesley handed me a hundred dollars, as if he was giving me charity. “Take this for a taxi. I won’t be driving you anywhere. Let’s part on good terms.” I slapped his hand away, “Who’s parting on good terms with you? Your mother bullied me all the time, and I endured it for the sake of our relationship. She called me a hen that can’t lay eggs, and you never defended me. Now you’ve brought your mistress home, and you’re taking her with us to finalize the divorce. Do you have any shame?” His face grew darker and angrier, “If you weren’t infertile, why haven’t you gotten pregnant? Aren’t you just feeling guilty and afraid of what people will say? With your poor background, who would want you? You look so pathetic every day that just seeing you makes me sick.” Sally laughed and pulled Wesley back into the car, “Alright, Wesley, don’t bother with her anymore.” I held back my anger, called my mom to let her know I was safe, and then took a taxi home to get a good night’s sleep. The next day, I told my parents everything that had happened. My father was so furious that he slammed his hand on the table, “Linda, get the car ready! How dare he treat my daughter this way!” I stopped my father, “Dad, let me handle this myself.” Just as I finished speaking, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number. I stepped outside to take the call, and a sharp, sarcastic voice came through the line. “Diana, is that you? This is Sally Rune. I just moved in with Wesley. I don’t want to be the bad guy, so why don’t you come over and collect your things? It must be tough leaving with nothing. You could probably sell them for some cash and rent a rundown apartment in a poor neighborhood.” I was so angry I laughed. “No need. Those things were bought by Wesley, so they naturally belong to him.” “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll get straight to the point. Wesley and I are getting married soon. I hope you won’t contact him anymore. I’m sure Miss Helm wouldn’t want to be seen as someone who ruins other people’s families, right?” She hung up after saying that. Not only did she have the audacity to say such things, but she also had the nerve to block me afterward. At that moment, a few messages popped up in our family’s group chat. Wesley’s mother had posted, “Next month, my son Wesley and Sally will have their wedding. My daughter-in-law is pregnant! I’m going to be a grandmother!” Look at how happy she is. Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t leave the family group yet. I’ve got a “big gift” for her.

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After the business marriage, I found myself with a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I had resigned myself to a life of indifference—foreseeing a future where my husband would remain cold and distant, and my stepson would ignore me, painting a picture of a “tragic” existence. But the moment I saw that little cutie, his small hand tugging at my clothes and his tentative voice calling me “Mom,” I was utterly undone. In that instant, my hardened resolve crumbled. I turned to my husband, eyes filled with a desperate plea. “After the divorce,” I asked softly, “can I keep the child?” When the company ran into trouble, my father didn’t hesitate to arrange a business marriage for me with a wealthy man who already had a son. I was more than satisfied with this arrangement.. After all, as a devoted singleton, the prospect of avoiding the burdens of motherhood was a blessing. The man was a workaholic CEO, leaving little room for personal involvement, and his son was primarily cared for by a nanny. I figured I could just lay back and relax since my husband is a CEO—I wouldn’t even have to raise the kid. The wedding was a subdued affair, marked by its simplicity and the scant number of guests. As anticipated, the child was nowhere to be seen. The moment the ceremony concluded, my new husband, ever the workaholic, dashed off to his office. He left behind a brief, detached message: “The company is swamped. I won’t be home for a few days.” “Steven is already at home. You should get to know him better when you return.” Steven Zach, that’s the name of my stepson. With my parents divorced and my relationship with my father distant and strained, I left behind almost everything from the house. I took only a pendant necklace—a small, sentimental relic—before stepping into the unknown.

“Mrs. Zach, the young master is waiting for you in the living room.” Miss Flint greeted me cheerfully as soon as I entered. I couldn’t help but bristle at the thinly veiled challenge. So, he’s setting the stage for dominance right from the start? I mused with a steely resolve. Whatever trials awaited, I steeled myself to face them head-on. After all, how daunting could a child possibly be? But… Who is this adorable little cherub sitting on the sofa? So tiny! So precious! So endearing! Lost in a daze of wonder, I watched as the baby wobbled towards me. With a voice as soft as a whisper, he said, “Auntie Clara… this is… a gift from Steven… for Auntie.” He extended a pink teddy bear towards me, its softness almost overwhelming in its contrast to his tiny form. Despite being larger than him, he clutched it with all his might, determined to give it to me. “Wow! Thank you, sweetie! I love it! Your name is Steven, right? I’m your mom now, so you can call me ‘Mom,’ okay? After all, we’re a family now.” Wow! He’s absolutely irresistible—so precious, so heartwarming! I felt an overwhelming urge to scoop him up and envelop him in a hug. This charming child, who radiated pure sweetness, was clearly neglected by my inattentive husband. The injustice of it all struck me deeply. This little one, my stepson, had been left to navigate a rough world without the care he deserved. In that moment, I made a silent vow: from now on, he would be my son, cherished and protected under my watchful care. Little Steven seemed surprised by my words. His thin little body trembled, his fair little face turned red, and he nervously tugged at his shirt, carefully saying, “M-Mom?” After saying that, he shyly lowered his head, stealing glances at me. Oh my goodness! Forget the father—this precious child is mine to care for! I cleared my throat and seriously nodded. Then I turned to Miss Flint, who had been standing by, and said, “I’ll take care of the child, you can go about your business.” “Yes, Mrs. Zach.” The feeling was nothing short of exhilarating! I suppressed my bubbling joy as I scooped up the little cutie in my arms, the weight of his tiny form a comforting burden. Clutching him securely with one hand, I held the pink teddy bear. I had visited this villa a few times before the wedding, and each visit had left me awestruck. Nial Zach’s residence was nothing short of a masterpiece—a six-story marvel, boasting three elevators and two charming gardens. The grandeur of the decor was almost overwhelming, a testament to both wealth and taste. I took Steven to the room Nial had prepared for me and placed the teddy bear next to the pillow. “Steven, I’m sorry I didn’t prepare a gift for you, but this pendant necklace is very important to me. Can you help me take care of it?” “I’ll watch over it every day,” he promised. I put it on him, and he seemed very happy. “How about tonight you sleep with Mom, and tomorrow Mom will take you to preschool, okay?” I lowered my voice, speaking gently. If my best friend saw me now, tenderly cradling this little one, she might think I’d been possessed by some gentle spirit. “Okay,” he murmured softly, his voice a sweet whisper that melted my heart. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the brief stiffness on his soft, adorable face. That night. “…And so the little fox lived happily ever after with its mommy.” As I whispered the final line of the story, I gazed down at the tiny angel who had drifted into a peaceful slumber. Just then… the phone rang suddenly. I was so startled I nearly dropped the phone and hurriedly hung up. Hearing Steven’s steady breathing, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I quietly left the room, found a place where Steven wouldn’t hear me, and called back. “Clara Williams, you dare hang up on me?” Wendy Silver’s voice crackled with fury through the receiver. “I was with my son just now. Besides, it’s my wedding night; why are you calling at this ungodly hour?” I said, exasperated. “Yeah, right. Everyone knows your husband isn’t home—he went to work right after the wedding.” “Wait! What did you just say? Son? When did you have a son?” Wendy sounded shocked. I frowned. “He’s my husband’s son, but now he’s my son too.” It’s normal that she didn’t know; I only found out when I was informed I had to marry Nial Zach. Nial kept this child well-hidden. But now that the news is out… “And stop being so dramatic.” “But you don’t even like kids!” Wendy’s voice dripped with incredulity. “I know you’re all alone on your wedding night, so I was calling to comfort you.” Wendy said casually. How was I supposed to know the little dumpling would be so cute? Though I thought this, I didn’t say it out loud. “Alright, what’s up?” “You have to come to the reunion this Saturday. That little ‘fake sweet’ will be there too. Remember—dress to dazzle and make her fade into the background! Show them who truly shines!” Just hearing Wendy’s tone, I could almost feel the fury seething through the phone. Her voice was a sharp, barely-contained snarl, and I could vividly imagine her face twisted in a mask of pure, unbridled rage. I chuckled, attempting to soothe her simmering anger. “Alright, alright, it’s been years; I’ve long forgotten about all that.” Wendy huffed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. After a few more terse exchanges, we finally ended the call. I stood by the fifth-floor window, gazing out at the sprawling city below, my mind lost in a daze. Suddenly, I remembered that summer after high school graduation. 3 In high school, Wendy Silver, Sarah Payne, and I were particularly close. After the college entrance exams, at a group dinner, the school heartthrob suddenly confessed to me. Everyone was watching and making a fuss, and I got so annoyed that I outright rejected him. But what I didn’t know was that Sarah had been secretly pursuing him for a long time. Because I rejected him, the heartthrob, out of spite, turned around and got together with Sarah. People said she only got with him because of me. And just like that, our relationship deteriorated. I thought we wouldn’t see each other after going to college. But to my surprise, even though we weren’t at the same university, she still spread rumors about me, trying to make me miserable. But she and the heartthrob didn’t last long; he soon cheated on her. I heard she’ll be at the reunion this Saturday too. “Ahh! So annoying!” I ruffled my hair in frustration. But then again… It’s been so long; maybe she’s forgotten. With that thought, I relaxed. The next few days, I stayed home with Steven. Apart from dropping him off and picking him up, I spent my time designing. I’m a renowned fashion designer, and surrendering my career for marriage? That would be a betrayal to my very soul. The vibrant threads of my creativity weave through my life’s fabric, and to abandon it now would be nothing short of an artistic death. Lately, the little cutie has been a wellspring of inspiration, igniting my creativity like never before. Not designing would be a disservice to my identity! 4 That Saturday morning, a serene smile graced my lips as I watched Steven, lost in his world of building blocks. His innocence was a balm for my soul. Yet, the thought of the faces I would encounter that afternoon brought a heavy sigh to my lips, I couldn’t help but sigh. Why am I heading to a class reunion instead of a parent-teacher conference? Steven’s innocent gaze, filled with concern, cut through my brooding thoughts. “Mom, are you unhappy?” I gently rubbed Steven’s chubby little face, “Mom has a reunion to attend this afternoon. Can you stay home by yourself?” After spending the past few days together, Steven had grown closer to me. “Can I come too? I’ll be very good.” Thinking of who would be at the reunion, I declined. His bright eyes dimmed immediately. “Alright, I’ll wait for Mom at home.” A wave of guilt crashed over me. How could I leave him alone when I knew the kind of neglect he faced from his father? Bringing him along shouldn’t be a problem. After all, I could keep an eye on him. It felt like a betrayal to leave him home alone, especially when his father seemed to ignore his needs so often. “You can come. How about Steven keeps Mom company?” “Okay~” The instant I saw his eyes light up with pure joy, I breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, an unsettling feeling crept over me—why did it seem like I had just been outsmarted? The reunion was in full swing by the time we arrived. As soon as we stepped into the private room,, it had already started. “Isn’t this Clara? Why are you so late? Come on, we’ve been waiting for you.” As soon as I entered, I was noticed. So much for quietly sitting in a corner. I smiled and greeted them, seeing Wendy wave at me excitedly. I held Steven and walked over. This caught everyone’s attention. “Clara, who is this…?” After sitting down, I placed Steven on my lap. Seeing the bottles and cans of alcohol on the table, I frowned. “He’s my son.” Then I looked at the waiter and asked softly, “Do you have any drinks suitable for children?” “Yes, we do.” After settling Steven comfortably in my lap, I shot a sharp glance at Wendy. “Stop staring like that; you’ll scare my son,” Wendy chuckled, “Your son is so cute! Does he need a godmother?” She said mischievously. “Get lost.” I looked at her disdainfully. We ate and chatted. Soon, a strong perfume scent wafted over. The next second, Steven let out a sneeze, his tiny body shaking slightly. At that exact moment, a voice pierced through the clamor of the room, sharp and dripping with scorn. “Clara, I heard you recently married a man with a child. Are you really that desperate? You’re not planning to become a—” Though she didn’t finish, I knew what she meant. “Sarah Payne! Who do you think you’re mocking?” Wendy’s temper flared instantly as she glared at Sarah.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294575”, 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