Seven years into our marriage, I found records of Julian and his intern checking into a hotel on his phone. It was 3 AM. I sat on the closet floor, clutching the luxury scarf he’d brought back from his business trip. The packaging had a label from a Fifth Avenue boutique, but his credit card statement showed no such purchase. The shower in the bathroom stopped. I quickly locked his phone screen, which he’d forgotten to close, revealing SnapChat. The latest message was a voice note from Chloe, “Julian, no more bites on the neck. It’s asking for trouble at the office.” In the background, I heard the familiar ticking of the watch I’d given him last month. “Still awake?” Julian walked out, toweling his hair dry, water still clinging to his abs. My eyes caught the fresh scratches across his collarbone. And then I remembered the medical report from earlier that day. My CA125 levels were soaring, a red flag for gynecological tumors. He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head, dodging him. “You said you were in Seattle last week for a meeting?” “Yeah, discussing a project with Mr. Thompson.” He answered quickly, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of his phone. That was his tell when he lied. How pathetic. The boy who once stood up for me now couldn’t even bother to change his excuses for cheating. My phone buzzed. Chloe had sent an ultrasound image: “Mrs. Julian, what do you think the baby should call you when it’s born? Auntie or Mommy?”

The champagne tower at the company’s IPO celebration reflected the crystal chandeliers. I stood beside Julian, watching him effortlessly charm various investors. The sapphire cufflinks on his suit – my birthday gift to him last year – sparkled with a cold light as he raised his glass. “Mrs. Julian, you truly are blessed,” a board member’s wife leaned in. “I hear you two were college sweethearts? From campus to a publicly traded company, that’s rare among young people these days.” I forced a smile, my gaze unconsciously following Julian. He was leaning in to listen to a female investor, a familiar curve playing on his lips. The woman wore berry-colored lipstick, her fingers subtly brushing Julian’s arm as she spoke. My phone vibrated in my palm-a reminder about my medical report from the hospital. I swiped the screen open, my eyes suddenly fixated on a particular number. CA125 levels, abnormally high. A gynecological tumor marker. “What are you looking at?” Julian appeared beside me, his breath carrying the scent of wine. I instinctively locked the screen. “Nothing, just a routine check-up from the hospital.” As I reached to straighten his slightly crooked tie, my fingertips brushed his neck. There, a trace of rose-red that didn’t belong under the ballroom lights caught my eye. Julian flinched back a step. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my hand frozen in mid-air. “Just a little warm.” He loosened his tie, his gaze sweeping over my shoulder. “Mr. Thompson is looking for me. Why don’t you head home first?” That rose-red smudge was clearly half a lipstick print.

In our seventh year of marriage, Julian started putting a password on his phone. “The client information I’m handling lately is too sensitive,” he explained, his fingers tracing a pattern on the screen that I couldn’t understand. Back in college, we’d shared the same Amazon account. He even wrote in his graduation thesis acknowledgements, “Thanks to Audrey for letting me check her phone anytime for inspiration.” Now, his phone was always face down. I stood in the closet, clutching the silk scarf he’d brought back from his business trip last week. The Hermès box had a label from a Fifth Avenue boutique, but there was no record of this purchase on his credit card statement. Deep in his closet, in the pocket of a gray suit he often wore, I found a crumpled hotel receipt. The date on it was the exact day he claimed to be in Seattle for a meeting. At the bottom of the receipt, it read: The Ritz-Carlton, downtown LA. I opened the map app. It was only 0.75 miles from company headquarters. The sound of the shower started in the bathroom. I mechanically tied the scarf around my neck. The silk fabric felt like a cold snake against my skin. The woman in the mirror had a pale face, dark circles under her eyes from insomnia. A thirty-year-old woman, no matter how well she takes care of herself, can’t compete with a twenty-year-old’s collagen. The water stopped. I quickly exited the map app. Julian walked out, drying his hair, water droplets trailing down the ridges of his abs. I had touched this body countless times, but now it felt like a stranger’s. “Tomorrow’s your birthday,” he said, picking up his phone from the bedside charger. “What do you want for a gift?” I gazed at the fresh scratches on his collarbone and softly replied, “Come with me for my check-up tomorrow. My report just came in.” “Tomorrow?” He frowned. “I don’t think I can make it. I have to fly to New York unexpectedly for an important client.” His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “I’ll have my assistant book a restaurant. You can celebrate with your best friend?” I watched his eyebrows twitch as he typed. Ten years ago, when he confessed his feelings for me, he’d been texting and secretly smiling like this. Later, I learned he was live-streaming his confession to his dorm group chat; his buddies had bet he wouldn’t dare kiss me. Now, the curve of his lips was exactly the same as it had been back then.

On the morning of my birthday, I received flowers from Julian via his assistant. Ninety-nine Ecuadorian roses, with a card bearing a standard printed greeting. Even the signature was typed. My phone vibrated. A message from Julian. “Flight’s been moved up. Heading to the airport now. Happy Birthday, I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” I called him. It rang seven times before he picked up. The background was silent, definitely not the bustling airport. “Are you in the taxi yet?” I asked. “Yeah, almost at Terminal 3,” his voice had a strange gasp to it. “Signal might be unstable.” I opened the location sharing app. Our shared location, set up for safety, showed him in a high-end apartment complex in downtown LA. That red dot stung my eyes. “Which hotel did you say you stayed at last time?” I tried to make my voice sound casual. “The Peninsula,” he blurted out, then quickly corrected himself, “No, it was the Hyatt near the airport.” A faint female voice whispered in the background: “Julian, the hot water in the bathroom…” The call suddenly disconnected. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking at my carefully chosen nude-pink silk dress. It was Julian’s favorite color. He said it reminded him of the nightgown I wore on our first date. Now, the dress hung empty on my body. I’d lost twelve pounds in the last two months. On the coffee table lay the gift I hadn’t been able to give him. A pair of matching Patek Philippe watches. The men’s watch had “To My Lighthouse” engraved on the inner side of the dial. The women’s, “To My Harbor.” In our senior year of college, we watched a lighthouse by the sea. He said I was his eternal light when he was lost. I said he was my safe harbor after wandering. A sound came from the entryway. I turned, surprised and hopeful, but only saw the delivery guy. He handed me a cake box. “Mr. Julian ordered it. Requested delivery for 7 PM sharp.” Inside was a one-pound Tiramisu. But I was lactose intolerant.

I drove to the apartment complex. The security guard waved my Porsche through without question. Julian’s Audi A8 was parked on basement level B2. Its license plate ended in 668, our wedding date. The elevator required a key card. I stood in the lobby and called Julian. On the seventh try, he finally picked up, his voice laced with suppressed anger. “What’s wrong? I’m with a client.” “I’m in the lobby of The Sycamore Residences,” I said. “Either you come down, or I’ll ask the building management to open the elevator.” A dead silence filled the other end of the line. Five minutes later, the elevator doors opened. Julian stood there, wearing dark blue loungewear I’d never seen before, his collar open, revealing fresh hickeys. Behind him stood a young woman in a silk robe, pinning her bangs with one of my hair clips. “Audrey?” the girl gasped. “Oh my god, Julian, why didn’t you say anything sooner…?” I recognized her. Chloe Yang, a marketing management trainee hired last year during campus recruitment. I had personally put her employee badge on her when she started. She’d told me she envied Julian and my love story. Now, she wore my wedding ring on her ring finger. Last year, I mentioned my ring felt a bit loose and needed resizing. Julian had offered to take it to the jeweler. Later, he said the jeweler suggested a complete redesign, which would take three months. “Let’s talk upstairs,” Julian reached out for me. I shrugged him off, pulling the pair of watches from my bag and throwing them to the ground. The sound of the watch faces shattering echoed through the lobby, and the security guards looked our way, alerted. “Happy Birthday, Julian,” I said, turning towards the revolving door. “The divorce papers will be in your inbox tomorrow.” Behind me, Chloe cried out, “Audrey, you’ve misunderstood! We were just discussing a project…” I pressed my car key, and the Porsche’s headlights cut through the dusk like a knife. In the rearview mirror, Julian stood rooted, only looking down at the mess on the floor. I knew that posture too well. In our junior year, when I was hospitalized with acute appendicitis. After signing the surgical consent form, he had stood in the hallway just like that, staring at his sneakers for forty whole minutes. “Audrey,” he’d said then, “what would I do if something happened to you?” Now, his expression was identical. Only this time, his “what would I do” no longer included me.

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Julian handed Serena every agonizing detail of my assault. The raw, unfiltered horror of it all. Serena, an unknown director, was desperate for an award-winning hit. A breakthrough that would make her name. And Julian, my boyfriend and my defense attorney, kept it all a secret from me. The day of the documentary premiere, I still went. On the giant screen, the desperate humiliation that had shattered my life was twisted, edited to look like a transaction – me selling my body for money. And the men who had ruined me? They were portrayed as “lost youths” who just “couldn’t resist temptation.” When the film ended, Serena was hailed as a star, flanked by admirers as she was escorted onto the stage. She smiled, her gaze finding Julian in the audience, and introduced him to everyone: “This is the lawyer in charge of the case, also the legal consultant for my documentary, my muse, my inspiration.” The audience erupted in applause, and the host gushed about them being a match made in heaven. Amid Julian’s stunned gaze, I slowly raised my hand. “I have a question for this ‘muse’ lawyer.”

The host clearly hadn’t anticipated this, but professionally handed me the microphone. “Ma’am, what’s your question?” I didn’t take it immediately. Instead, I stared across the sea of people, straight at Julian. His lips moved silently, forming words. “Skylar, don’t make a scene.” I forced a twisted smile and took the mic. “Mr. Hayes.” I began, my voice quiet but amplified, echoing through the entire theater. “I’d like to ask, as the legal consultant for this documentary, do you confirm that all content in the film is based on fact, especially the parts concerning the victim, Skylar Davies?” I used my full name. Skylar Davies. A name he had once again personally dragged into the abyss, and then nailed to a pillar of shame. Julian’s face went even paler. He looked like someone had choked him, unable to utter a single word. On stage, Serena reacted quickly. She gracefully took over, her smile flawless. “Miss, thank you for your question. I can responsibly tell you that our team has rigorously verified every detail.” “Mr. Hayes, as the lead attorney for this case, provided us with the most authoritative and authentic information.” She paused, shooting Julian an almost proprietary, adoring glance. “It’s precisely because of Julian’s help that we were able to get so close to the truth, isn’t that right?” Julian gave a stiff nod. But his eyes were locked on me, filled with a desperate plea and a stark warning. “Is that so?” I scoffed softly, turning the microphone to myself. “Then why do I know a completely different version?” Boom— The crowd erupted. After all, I was publicly crashing their party. Camera flashes exploded around me like crazy. Reporters, like sharks scenting blood, instantly stirred into a frenzy. “Didn’t they say it was a true story?” “Are there unknown secrets? This is juicy! Tomorrow’s headlines are set.” The host clearly hadn’t expected me to call them out so directly. He tried to regain control. “Everyone, please quiet down! Quiet down! Miss, please…” “Please what? Don’t speak out? But should the truth be twisted like this?” I looked at Julian, walking step by step towards the stage. Security guards tried to stop me, but the frantic reporters pushed them aside. That winter, I walked out of the precinct after giving my statement, trembling, barely able to stand. It was Julian who pushed through the crowd, came to me, and wrapped his coat around my shoulders. He held my icy hands and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m Julian Hayes, your defense attorney. I’ll get you justice.” His warmth then was my only light. Now, I was walking towards him. Standing just a foot away, I could clearly see the cold sweat beading on his forehead. “Julian,” I looked him dead in the eyes, asking each word distinctly, “The film claims Skylar took ten thousand dollars from them, and everything was consensual. So, is that how it’s recorded in the files you provided to Director Serena?” His throat bobbed, his lips parted, but no sound came out. “Speak up.” I took another step closer. Faced with my accusation, his face was ashen. Serena’s flawless smile finally faltered. She stepped forward, placing herself between Julian and me, adopting the posture of a protector. “Miss, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the real events are as depicted. Please don’t create a scene here…” “Get out of my way.” I cut her off coldly. “I’m talking to my boyfriend. Who do you think you are?” Serena’s expression instantly froze. “Boyfriend?” She sounded as if she’d heard the most ridiculous joke, turning to Julian, her eyes full of accusation. Julian instinctively took half a step back, avoiding her gaze. The entire hall fell silent. All eyes were on the three of us.

“Julian,” Serena’s voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tremor, “Who is she?” Julian finally spoke, his voice dry, like sandpaper. “She… she’s my client.” He had chosen to distance himself after all. I laughed, tears welling up in my eyes. Serena seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, her gaze towards me now laced with impatience. “Miss, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but since you once entrusted Mr. Hayes with your case, you must know what kind of person he is.” “I can also empathize that some people, after experiencing trauma, might fall for someone who helped them.” “But I truly hope you won’t continue to be unreasonable.” “Client?” I raised the microphone, my voice suddenly sharp. “So, you’re saying Mr. Hayes can treat his clients however he pleases?” “He can slice open her wounds, display them raw and bloody for everyone to see, then pour salt on them and tell everyone she deserved it?” “He can hand over a hospital diagnosis of severe depression to Serena, so she can edit it into proof of the client’s mental instability!” “He can change photos of torn clothes into evidence implying seduction!” “Julian, don’t your nightmares ever scream at you?” My voice was shrill, laced with blood and tears. The theater was deathly silent, broken only by my ragged breathing. Julian was pushed back by my questions, his face as white as paper. The people present didn’t understand what was happening, what could render the usually articulate Mr. Hayes utterly speechless. Suddenly, as if all strength had been drained from him, he mumbled, “I… I was doing it for her own good…” “For her own good?” I repeated those four words, finding them utterly absurd. “So you turn the real victim into a slut who sold her body for money?” “And beautify the perpetrators into lost youths?” “Julian, can you look me in the eyes and tell me who this was really for?” It was for Serena, your childhood friend who has been lying in wait for years, desperately needing a hit to prove herself! I didn’t utter the words, but my gaze said it all. Serena’s face completely changed. She probably never imagined that her meticulously planned triumphant masterpiece would turn into a public trial. Seeing this, the host immediately signaled for security guards to step forward. “Miss, please calm down, we…” “Don’t touch me!” I shrieked, violently swatting away the hand reaching for me. In that instant, dark memories flooded back. The cramped room, the stale air, the men’s heavy breathing, and those dirty hands pressing down on me… “Ah—!” I hunched down, clutching my head, trembling uncontrollably. The world spun, my ears buzzed with static, Julian’s and Serena’s faces distorted and twisted before my eyes. Julian rushed over, trying to help me up. His hand had barely touched my shoulder when I violently flung it away. “Don’t touch me!” I looked up, my bloodshot eyes fixed on him. “Julian, you’re disgusting.” My voice was soft, but it landed like a heavy hammer on his heart. Just then, a reporter couldn’t help but ask, “You’re saying all this as if it’s true, but what evidence do you have to prove any of it?” Soon, others chimed in: “Yeah, this is Director Serena’s and Mr. Hayes’s crowning achievement! Are you just a hater hired by a rival?”

These questions made Julian’s face turn even uglier. He looked at me almost pleadingly. Serena also quickly spoke, “Miss, I don’t care who paid you, if you keep spreading lies, I’ll pursue legal action against you.” All eyes were on me. Some probing, some mocking, some sneering. I opened my mouth to speak, but Julian grabbed my arm. “Stop making a scene, I’ll take you home.” He snatched the microphone from my hand and quickly pulled me away. My attempts to defend myself were drowned out by Serena’s voice speaking into the mic. Suddenly, a loud voice rang out: “Police! Make way!” The crowd parted, and a man in a trench coat, with a refined face, walked through. He walked directly up to me. “Ms. Davies, do you remember me?” I looked up, and through my blurry vision, a familiar face came into focus. It was Detective Miller, the officer who handled my case back then. He rescued me from Julian, took off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulders. Shielding me from those scrutinizing gazes. “I’ll take you out of here,” he said, his voice low but with an undeniable authority. I nodded. As I passed Julian, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go.” His voice was hoarse, tinged with a hint of pleading. “Let’s talk properly.” I looked at him and suddenly felt ridiculous. At this point, what was there to talk about? I spoke calmly. “The moment you handed that diagnosis to Serena, there was nothing left for us to talk about.” That diagnosis was my deepest nightmare. It documented every breakdown, every instance of self-harm, and my most complete despair with this world. I had only shown it to him. Because I thought he was my savior. He stayed by my side, recording my pain while transforming it into a badge of honor for another woman. My gaze shifted from his face to Serena, standing behind him. Serena had regained her composure. She looked at me, lowering her voice. “Skylar, don’t get too smug.” “Do you really think causing this scene today will destroy everything? You’re just a mentally unstable slut. Who’s going to believe anything you say?” Her words were like a poison-tipped knife, precisely piercing my most painful spot. My body stiffened. Julian and Serena had already paved this dead end for me. It turned out, no matter what I said, they could always explain everything away with “she’s mentally ill.” I looked at Julian, my heart sinking little by little. Suddenly, Detective Miller’s deep, authoritative voice echoed through the entire viewing hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, aren’t you curious why this woman knows all of this so clearly?” “Because she is the victim of the 619 case, Skylar Davies.” “I was the lead investigator on the case. The truth of the case has been maliciously distorted and used to mislead the public. The police department will pursue legal action regarding this matter.”

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I woke up to find a naked stranger lying next to me, not my husband. My husband stood by the bed, his voice cold. “Divorce. You’re leaving with nothing.” My head throbbed. I tried to recall what happened. Dylan’s startup had failed, and he was on the brink of bankruptcy. To help him raise funds, I’d had my mother’s heirloom appraised. The appraiser said the jade bracelet was worth over a hundred million dollars and even gave me a buyer’s contact info. That night, Dylan cooked for the first time, celebrating this sudden fortune. I had a few too many drinks and fell into a deep sleep, vaguely sensing Dylan’s fervent passion in bed. The next thing I knew, it was midday… I looked at Dylan. “Wait, let me explain!” I scrambled up, finding my clothes scattered on the floor. The man beside me was still asleep. I dressed as quickly as possible and rushed to the living room. Dylan was there, face grim, smoking. His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, were also present, their expressions like thunderclouds. Mrs. Jenkins glared at me, a venomous look in her eyes. “Dylan works his fingers to the bone, and you pull this kind of disgusting stunt? You’re a disgrace! Why don’t you just drop dead?” “Mrs. Jenkins, listen to me—” “Don’t you dare call me that. It’s sickening.” The disgust in her eyes seemed to overflow. “Just looking at you makes my eyes burn. How can you be so shameless? I remember you used to say you’d tear anyone who cheated limb from limb.” “I actually thought you were pure. How could I have been so blind? I never imagined you’d be such trash. If I’d known, I would have never agreed to your marriage with Dylan.” “Alright, that’s enough from you.” Mr. Jenkins cut her off. He looked at me. “We caught you in the act, plain and simple. Don’t bother explaining, we’re not interested.” “Dylan’s mom and I will stand by whatever Dylan decides.” My husband, Dylan, pointed to the divorce papers on the table. “Sign them. We’ll go our separate ways.” I picked up the divorce papers silently. Everything was spelled out in black and white. All real estate and cars would go to Dylan. I would also have to pay Dylan a million dollars for emotional damages. One clause, in particular, stood out. I was to return the jade bracelet that Mrs. Jenkins supposedly gave me. Seeing that line, I instantly understood everything. I said nothing, walking back into the bedroom. Sure enough… the jade bracelet in the jewelry box was gone. Sudden disaster and untold riches often turn family into foes. They were trying to seize my jade bracelet to claim that hundred million. And here I was, yesterday, thinking of sharing that joy with Dylan first, only for him to stab me in the back. And… I looked at the man still in bed. Dylan would stop at nothing to get his hands on that hundred million. Face grim, I returned to the living room. “Give me back the jade bracelet, and tell the man in there to turn himself in, or I’m calling the police.” “Calling the police?” Mrs. Jenkins glared at me. “You have the nerve to call the police?” I ignored her, looking directly at Dylan. “Are you returning it or not?” Dylan crushed his cigarette underfoot. He looked at me. “Out of respect for our marriage, I’ll give you one chance. Sign the divorce papers right now, or I’ll call the police.” He wanted to call the police too? I wanted to see what grounds he’d use. I wanted to see how he’d twist the truth once the cops arrived.

“Dylan, I won’t sign. Let’s see you call the police.” Dylan actually pulled out his phone and started dialing. He looked at me. “You confirm you won’t sign? I’m hitting dial right now.” “Hitting what dial?” Mr. Jenkins shot him a glare. “Aren’t we embarrassed enough? This kind of thing is best handled privately.” Mrs. Jenkins, however, looked at me. “You pulled such a disgusting stunt, and now you want to cling to Dylan? Do you think our family is that easy to bully?” “If you have any decency left, sign the papers already.” I stared at Dylan. “Dylan, you know the truth better than anyone. Call the police right now. Let’s see if you can be so calm and composed in front of them.” “The truth?” Mrs. Jenkins stood up, pointing at me. “Do you think we’re blind? That man is still lying in your bed! You want to cause more trouble? This is what happens when Dylan spoils you.” “Dylan works so hard on his startup, and he still has to take care of you, feed you, provide for you. And you? You decided to cheat on him instead, making a fool of him.” “Dylan!” I cut Mrs. Jenkins off with a sharp cry. “Your parents don’t know what I’ve done for you, but you do, don’t you?” “Where did your startup funds come from?” “Who’s been supporting our household expenses?” Facing my angry questions, Dylan looked at me calmly. “Valerie, I’ve tolerated everything you do, but you’ve crossed my line today. We have to divorce.” “I’ll say it again. If you’re not signing, I’m calling the police right now.” “Your unreasonable antics won’t work anymore.” Those two sentences from Dylan completely broke my heart. My annual income, with year-end bonuses, easily topped two million dollars. He came from a humble background. To spare his ego, I never talked about my job or my salary in front of his friends and family. Even his parents didn’t know. Before marrying Dylan, I already had assets worth tens of millions. I was the one who gave him ten million dollars for his startup. And now he was doing this. “I confirm I won’t sign. Go ahead and call the police.” Dylan pressed the dial button. “Hello, I’d like to report a crime. Someone has illegally entered my home. Yes… my wife brought a third party in.” The police arrived quickly. The man in the bed was also woken up. He looked at the police, bewildered and terrified. Dylan stood by, stating that he’d been busy with company matters recently and hadn’t been home. He’d decided to come back that morning and found me in bed with another man. Cheating is immoral but not illegal, so the police usually can’t intervene. Dylan’s reason for calling the police was illegal entry. That, they would investigate. “Ms. Valerie, do you know Mr. Oliver Hayes?” “Yes.” My face was pale, but I did indeed know the man in bed. “Are you close?” “Yes.” Oliver, a student four years my junior. I’d hired him at my company. He was my junior in school and my mentee at work. These facts would be easy to verify, so there was no point in lying. “Did you bring Mr. Hayes to your home?” “No.” “Mr. Hayes, how did you get here?” Oliver lowered his head. “Ms. Valerie invited me. She said she had good news to share. I never expected that after a few drinks, we’d… we’d… give in to passion.” “You’re lying!” I glared at Oliver. “Oliver, have some conscience! Tell me honestly, how much did Dylan pay you?” “Ms. Valerie, the truth always comes out. Since we’ve been caught, what’s there to be afraid of? Leaving with nothing? So what if it’s a hundred million? I’ll earn more in the future.” Dylan suddenly grabbed Oliver’s collar. “Wait, what did you say? A hundred million?”

Oliver shoved Dylan away and looked at the police. “Ms. Valerie said a bracelet Mrs. Jenkins gave her was appraised as an antique worth a hundred million. She was afraid that if she sold it, Dylan would divorce her and she wouldn’t get the money.” I quickly interjected, “You’re lying! Officers, they’re working together! That jade bracelet is my mother’s heirloom, it was never from Mrs. Jenkins!” “Valerie, are you saying I conspired with an outsider to cheat on myself?” Dylan glared at me, showing me his phone screen. “Look at this.” On his phone was a screenshot of a SnapChat conversation between me and Oliver. The messages were intimate, clearly showing that I had invited Oliver over. I looked at the chat’s timestamp. It was from after Dylan and I had gotten drunk. He had been plotting this all along. I suddenly remembered something. “Officers, there’s a security camera in my living room. Please check the footage!” Dylan’s face turned cold. “Valerie, you’re really something. You and Oliver were afraid to leave evidence during your rendezvous, so you destroyed the camera. Now you’re screaming to check the footage, hoping there’ll be no evidence? But your little scheme failed today. I caught you red-handed.” My last sliver of hope shattered. The police soon took Oliver away, and the atmosphere in the house grew even heavier. Dylan was the first to break the silence. “Sign the papers.” “Your whole family set me up.” When Oliver said the jade bracelet was from Mrs. Jenkins, she remained calm, even telling the police it was a family heirloom. From that moment, I knew everything was a setup orchestrated by his family, and Oliver had been bought off. “Sometimes being smart isn’t a good thing,” Dylan said, looking at me. “Sign it. With your earning power, your life won’t be that bad.” His coldness contrasted sharply with his usual tenderness. I couldn’t help but remember how we met. I used to work a lot of night shifts back then, and security wasn’t as good as it is now. One night, I was harassed by thugs, and he saved me. After that, he’d wait for me every night on that street and escort me home. I was always busy with work and didn’t have time for relationships. His appearance brought a new possibility into my life. His attentiveness made me fall in love. I didn’t care about his background; I just wanted a good person. But now, this man was a stranger to me. He’d already admitted it was a setup, and I actually calmed down. I looked at Dylan. “I think you should understand that if I sold the jade bracelet, I would have given you the hundred million without hesitation. And my future income would also support your career. Why did you have to plot against me?” “An old hag trying to play coy is still an old hag. You’re thirty-five, Dylan’s twenty-six. What twenty-something guy truly falls for an ‘older woman’ when there are younger options?” A strange voice came from the second bedroom. A woman in a nightgown emerged. She sat next to Dylan. “Does my appearance help clear up your confusion?” Dylan’s hand rested on her belly. “Her and my baby is on the way. We need to register the birth, and no matter how much money we needed, you’d have to make way for her. Besides, I think a hundred million is enough for us to live on. I’m not greedy.” “Of course, if you’re willing to stay by my side, I can let you be a mistress. Once her and my child is born, you can even help raise it.” I had never imagined anyone could say such shameless words. I tried my best to remain calm. I stared at the woman. “Youth doesn’t last forever. He can betray me, and he can betray you too.” “Trying to stir up trouble?” The woman smiled. “Valerie, let me tell you a secret.”

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The very day my father ‘died’, Liam Harrison called off our engagement. He immediately turned around and got engaged to his childhood sweetheart, planning to kick me out of my own home. He was sprawled on the couch in my family’s mansion, his expression chillingly indifferent. “Your dad’s gone, so there’s no need to hide it from you anymore. Amber’s pregnant with my child, and I have to take responsibility for her.” “If you can just stay by my side, be subservient and take good care of Amber and the baby, I might still throw you a bone. Otherwise, get out!” Liam’s mother, Maureen, who used to be our household help, stepped forward, hands on her hips, jabbing a finger right at my face. “I worked as a maid for the Vance family for twenty years. Your father just up and died, leaving nothing behind! This mansion? Consider it my compensation. From now on, you’re the maid here!” Looking at the arrogant sneers on their faces, a cold chill spread through my heart. My father’s ‘death’ was actually just a stunt, a strategic move in a brutal business war. Who knew it would expose the true colors of this mother and son duo so perfectly.

“Eleanor Vance, didn’t you hear my mother talking to you? Are you staying, or are you going to pack your things and clear out now?” Important documents in my father’s study, and my mother’s precious belongings – they’re all still here. I can’t leave. “I’ll stay.” A flicker of triumph flashed in Liam Harrison’s eyes. “Smart girl. Glad you know your place. If you’re willing to stay, then do as my mother says. From now on, you’re the maid of this house. Lunchtime is almost here, go make some food!” “Amber will be over soon. She loves honey-glazed salmon the most. Hurry up and make it! And remember, every single bone must be picked out clean!” I froze. Maureen suddenly lost her temper. “What are you staring at?! That’s my grandchild in Amber’s belly! What’s wrong with asking you to de-bone a fish? Still think you’re the rich heiress you used to be? Your dad’s dead! Didn’t leave you a single cent!” “Stop acting like some pampered princess! Get to the kitchen and clean that fish, now!” Maureen quickly ripped off her apron and flung it at me. “Hurry up and follow me! I’m only showing you once!” Liam, buttoning up his shirt, urged me on. “Faster, faster! Don’t drag your feet. If Amber arrives and you haven’t finished, you’ll see how I deal with you!” He casually picked up my father’s car keys and drove off. I watched Liam’s receding figure, feeling a strange disconnect. Just a month ago, he was kneeling before my father, repeatedly kowtowing, thanking him for agreeing to let me marry him. He was just a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, decent enough, but always lacking courage. He only really started making something of himself thanks to my father’s constant support and countless opportunities. My father had been vehemently against the marriage, but it was Liam’s meticulous attention, his always-agreeable attitude, that finally swayed his mind. Who would have thought that less than a day after my father’s ‘death’, he’d already morphed into a monster. “What are you looking at?! He’s not your man anymore!” A cold, fishy-smelling pair of scissors clattered onto my foot. Maureen roughly nudged me. “Stop daydreaming! Cleaning this fish is what matters now!” Ribbonfish bones are tiny and numerous. Maureen, fearing I wouldn’t be thorough enough, refused to let me wear gloves. My fingertips were a bloody mess, riddled with thorns, before I’d even cleaned half the fish. My father also loved ribbonfish, but he was never good at picking out bones. Yet whenever he asked Maureen to make it, he’d always say she was too old, afraid she’d hurt herself. He never made her de-bone them. I met Maureen’s ugly sneer with a cold smile of my own. Go on, dig your own grave. What goes around, comes around. Under Maureen’s relentless urging, the dishes were all on the table just as Liam walked in, his arm wrapped around Amber Reed’s waist. Honey-glazed salmon, barbecue ribs, creamy truffle pasta, and a rich beef stew – every single one was a dish Liam had specified, Amber’s favorites. Only the simple steamed broccoli in the corner – my favorite. Liam knew that, but he merely glanced at it before sweeping it straight into the trash can. “Eleanor Vance, how many times have I told you? Amber doesn’t eat vegetables! What’s the meaning of putting a plate of broccoli on the table?” “That’s my—” “Yours? When has my mother, the maid, ever sat at this table in twenty years? Is that a place for you, a maid?!” “For your insolence, you won’t be eating lunch today! Just stand by Amber’s side and serve her!” This wasn’t my first time seeing Amber. Every previous meeting, she’d been all smiles, calling me ‘Ellie-jie’ with sickening flattery. Now, her expression had soured. She daintily pointed a finger at the fish, her voice a sickly sweet whine. “Ellie, darling, could you please get me a piece of that ribbonfish? I’d love to taste your cooking.” “Amber, that fish is closer to you than it is to me…” “Eleanor! What are you blabbering about?! Amber told you to serve her, so serve her!” “And ‘Amber’? Is that how you address her? From now on, you call her Mrs. Harrison, got it?” Something inside me clenched. I mumbled for a few seconds, feeling utterly disgusted, but the words still wouldn’t leave my mouth. Seeing my hesitation, Amber snuggled deeper into Liam’s embrace, letting out a simpering giggle. “It’s fine, Liam, don’t bother Ellie. Just let her serve me.” Desperate to avoid any more sickening encounters, I picked up my forks and reached for the dish of fish. My forks had just touched the fish when Liam suddenly called out, “Wait!” He quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket, exchanged a look with Amber, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “The Vance heiress serving others – now that’s a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle! How could I not go live? Wouldn’t want to disappoint all those guys who used to fall all over themselves for you, would we?” The moment I reached to serve Amber the fish, Liam went live…

“Make sure you check every single bone for Amber!” As I meticulously tore apart that piece of fish, checking every tiny fragment, I saw the live chat exploding with comments. “OMG! Isn’t that the Vance heiress? What’s she doing in an apron, serving people?!” “Of course! Her dad died, and now she’s serving her ex-fiancé’s new girlfriend – the one who’s already pregnant! What else is she gonna do? A fallen queen is worth less than a peasant!” Suddenly, a notification for a huge, extravagant gift popped up. “Hey streamer, here are ten Royal Supercars! How about you make the fallen heiress eat someone’s leftovers, right out of their mouth?” Liam’s eyes lit up greedily. He grabbed his phone, ready to respond. I quickly pulled his arm. “Don’t agree. I’ll give you all the jewelry from my box. It’s worth far more than those gifts.” Fearing Liam would refuse, I pleaded, “Liam, for the sake of all those years we spent together, leave some dignity for yourself—and for me.” “We never had ‘feelings.’ If I had any, they were for your dad. Now he’s dead, so what ‘feelings’ are you even talking about?” He snarled. “This house is mine now. Your jewelry? That’s my property too! Stop wasting my time!” The moment Liam typed “Okay” on the screen, Amber had already chewed up the fish she’d just put in her mouth and spat it out right in front of me. “Ellie, darling, go on, eat. I even left you a little flavor.” The live stream audience had already surpassed 1 million. Royal Supercars scrolled across the screen, one after another, as the comments section went wild. “Eat!” “Eat!” “Eat!” Before I could even react, Liam grabbed my head and shoved my face down towards the plate. The heap of filth Amber had spat out pressed directly against my lips. A putrid, fishy stench filled my nostrils. I couldn’t hold it in. I kicked Liam hard with all my might and retched violently. The comments section instantly exploded. “Didn’t even eat it, just threw up? What’s wrong, streamer? This isn’t good enough, refund! Or make her eat what she just threw up!” Liam grabbed my collar and yanked me up, his eyes cold and vicious. “Eleanor Vance, are you useless or what?! You absolute trash! Get that mess back in your mouth, now, or listen to what the top donor says!” The comments section boiled over again, constant notifications showing the stream being shared. “Wow, Mr. Harrison! Now you’re ordering around the Vance heiress? No longer a kept man, are we?!” “Mr. Harrison, you’re awesome!” “Mr. Harrison, my idol!” The sycophantic comments in the chat only inflated Liam’s already colossal ego. Seeing me hesitate, he stepped forward, intending to shove my face onto the table again, just like before. I’d only intended to play along with their cruel game, but this? This was beyond my limit. The instant Liam charged at me, I grabbed a dinner knife from the table and plunged it straight into Liam’s palm. “Ahhh!” Blood splattered across my face. Liam let out a piercing shriek of agony. Maureen and Amber instantly sprang from their chairs, rushing at me in unison. I pointed the knife directly at them. “Who dares move?! One step, and I’ll end you!” Maureen and Amber immediately froze, not daring to stir. Liam, seeing me holding the knife towards his mother and Amber, ignored the gash in his hand. He grabbed a nearby dinner plate, aiming to smash it at me. Maureen’s eyes darted around. After two seconds of frantic thought, she rushed forward to stop Liam. “Son, don’t be impulsive. She was a pampered heiress for over two decades. Who knows what powerful people she still knows? Going this far, this early, might not be wise.” “Anyway, she’s already been humiliated, and we’ve got the gifts. Let’s just leave it at that for today…” Liam gradually calmed down. He smashed the plate on the floor, then looked at me. “You’re a disgrace. Clean this place up! I’m taking Amber and my mother out for dinner. Keep your phone on and stay available. I’ll call you if I need anything!” “Oh, and clear out your bedroom for Amber. From now on, you’re in the guest room!” With that, Liam put his arm around Amber and, along with Maureen, stormed out, slamming the door behind them.

No sooner had they stormed out than I received a text from Chloe, the manager of the bridal boutique. [Ellie, a girl named Amber Reed just came in, demanding to try on your wedding dress – the one we just finished altering for you! We’re about to call the police.] [No, don’t. Let her try it. Make sure she’s well ‘served’.] Chloe is the daughter of one of my father’s oldest, most trusted friends. She was probably in on the whole ‘stunt,’ but we had to play the part perfectly. When my father ‘left,’ he’d repeatedly warned me not to let anyone suspect a thing. If this plan succeeded, the Vance family would be untouchable, securing the top spot among the country’s wealthiest families for the next three decades. This was no time for me to slip up. Thinking this, I also dismissed the idea of calling someone to clean up. I started to pick up the mess on the table myself, piece by piece. Halfway through, Liam called. “Get to the bridal boutique. Be here in 20 minutes.” When I arrived at the bridal boutique, I immediately spotted Chloe, her face a mask of furious indignation. Following her gaze, I saw Amber already wearing the wedding dress that had just been altered for me. She was much shorter than me, so the long train of the dress dragged ludicrously on the floor, looking quite comical. “Do you have any concept of time?! I told you to be here in twenty minutes! Look how late you are! Eighteen whole minutes!” To keep up appearances, all my premium credit cards had been frozen. A cab from our mansion would have cost hundreds of dollars. I’d taken buses and subways to get here. “What are you gawking at?! Can’t you see the dress is dragging on the floor? Go help Amber hold it up!” “Hey! What’s wrong with you?! This is Ellie’s dress! It’s one thing for Ellie to be generous enough to let her wear it, but you’re making Ellie serve her?! Are you out of your mind?!” Chloe furiously defended me. Liam sprang from his seat and aimed a slap at Chloe’s face. “You’re the crazy one! Her dad’s dead! You still think she’s some pampered heiress?!” I instantly stepped in front of Chloe and took the full force of the slap right across my left cheek. Perhaps the incident with the knife still rattled Liam, because when he saw he’d hit me, he didn’t say another word. My face swelled up instantly. Chloe looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears and guilt. I patted her hand, giving her a look that said I was okay. Then, I knelt down to help Amber hold up the train of the wedding dress. In the mirror, Amber looked at me, a highly provocative and mocking smile playing on her lips. Then, she deliberately leaned back, her fifteen-centimeter heel grinding directly into the back of my hand. Excruciating pain instantly shot from my fingertips, through my hand, and up my arm. Before I could even make a sound, Amber shrieked in a high-pitched voice, “Ellie, if you’re upset I’m wearing your dress, just say so! Why would you push me? I have a baby in here!” Seeing this, Liam immediately stepped forward, and a slap landed squarely on my face. “Eleanor Vance, how could I have never seen how evil you truly are?! I knew something was up when you suddenly became so agreeable, doing whatever you were told! You’ve been plotting something wicked all along, haven’t you?!” “Stop making a scene and embarrassing everyone! Get out of here and go home!” Unable to afford a cab, I had to take the bus. The moment I boarded, I became the center of attention. “Isn’t that the fallen heiress from the Vance family? I just saw her get slapped at the bridal shop! Look, you can still see the marks on her face!” “Right? If she doesn’t serve Mrs. Harrison well, she’ll get even more beatings later!” “Serves her right! She’s had it good for too long, it’s about time she got a taste of hardship!” Amidst the cacophony of cruel whispers and insults, I received a text from Chloe. [Ellie, just hang in there a little longer. My dad just sent a message. In three days, everything will turn around.]

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Mom pinned me down, roughly digging the candy Dad had given me right out of my mouth. Then she turned to Dad and said, “All your sweetness, it’s just for me! No one, absolutely no one, can steal your love from me!” Dad picked Mom up in his arms. “You’re my one and only princess.” Eight-year-old me stood up, trembling, tears streaming down my face. Dad had promised me, if I kept quiet about Brittany, I’d get candy every single day. Bang! The door to Mom and Dad’s bedroom slammed shut. Mom’s cries echoed from inside, a constant stream of pleading. Was Dad hitting Mom again? Just this afternoon, he’d promised me he’d only ‘hit’ Brittany from now on, never Mom. I looked out the window. It was already dark. Half an hour later, they emerged. Mom’s clothes were torn and disheveled. Her face was flushed, covered in red marks, yet she smiled at me and said, “Mommy’s so tired, no dinner tonight. There’s instant ramen in the cupboard; just make yourself something.” Dad gave her a doting look. “You should rest if you’re tired. I’m going to work overtime tonight. Didn’t you say you wanted a new bag? My overtime pay should definitely cover it.” Mom laughed, cupped Dad’s face, and gave him a big kiss. “You’re the best, honey!” Then, she looked at me with a triumphant smirk. “See? Dad’s mine. He buys me bags, not you.” My jaw dropped, staring at her in disbelief. Had Mom gone crazy? She took a shower, then went straight to bed. I pulled up a stool to the kitchen counter, filling the kettle and setting it to boil. Dad looked utterly exhausted as he walked over to me. He slipped a candy into my hand. “Smart girl, you gotta hide this one well! Don’t let Mom find it.” I happily tucked the candy into my pocket, nodding enthusiastically. He playfully tapped my nose. “Remember our deal, okay? Don’t ever tell Mom about your tutor, Brittany. Be a good girl, and tomorrow Dad will give you chocolate.” Then, he left. Dad worked so hard. I filled a thermos with hot water for him, planning to catch him before he drove off so he could take it to work. Good, Dad hadn’t driven away yet. Wait… why was Brittany also in the car?

I crept quietly to the car window and heard Brittany and Dad chatting. Dad had his head buried in Brittany’s neck. “Don’t be mad, it’s all my fault. But what could I do?” Brittany’s eyes were red as she kept pushing him away. “You were just with me all afternoon, and you still went and touched her?” “I didn’t want to, but you didn’t see her! God, it was sickening. She’s so old, still trying to act like a young girl, batting her eyelashes. If I don’t give in, she just clings to me forever.” Brittany started crying. “How much longer do we have to live like this? When are you finally going to divorce her?” Dad pulled her into a tight hug. “Soon, soon, I promise. Don’t worry.” Brittany looked up and suddenly saw me in the rearview mirror. She shrieked, a sound that pierced my eardrums. “You… what are you doing here?” Dad quickly pushed Brittany away, opened his door, and rushed out to me. “Cherry, what are you doing here?” I was startled too, tears welling up in my eyes. I held up the thermos. “Dad, I boiled some hot water. I wanted to bring it to you, I was afraid you’d forget to drink water while working overtime tonight.” Dad finally let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Oh, that’s what it is. Does Mom know you came out?” I shook my head. Dad cupped my cheek. “Dad’s office has hot water, don’t worry. Take this back and drink it yourself. Brittany has some errands, and I’m just giving her a ride.” Just then, Brittany got out of the car too. “Cherry? Oh my goodness, you scared me! Have you eaten? Here, this is for you.” She handed me a bag containing an exquisite strawberry cake. “Just remember our little secret, okay? Tell them your dad bought it for you.” I stared intently at the cake inside, nodding happily. Then, Dad opened the trunk and handed me two bags. “This is the dress you need for your performance tomorrow. Your teacher said pink, so take it home. The other one is for Mom.” Wait, that’s not right. I thought I heard earlier… The other dress was too big for Brittany, and she complained the material was itchy. But she didn’t want to bother with returns, so she just left it. Adults are so strange. How did it become a dress for Mom?

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Ever since my best friend, Chloe, got divorced and had nowhere to go, I let her move into my place. I never imagined she’d try to claim my home as her own. When I refused, she trashed me online, accusing me of seducing her husband and causing their divorce. She even claimed I’d swindled all his money to buy my luxury apartment. The entire internet branded me a toxic bestie, wishing death upon me. What I never expected was for her ex-husband to step forward, corroborating her lies and claiming I seduced him. But watching the internet tear me apart, I couldn’t help but smile. Chloe sat on my sofa, three stacks of crisp bills clutched in her hand, which she then slapped onto my coffee table. “Mia, transfer the ownership of this apartment to me. Consider it a testament to our friendship all these years.” This apartment was worth ten million dollars. The irony was, just yesterday, I’d pulled some strings and finalized her daughter Lily’s school admission. I had planned to surprise her over dinner this weekend. Instead, she’d given me this massive “surprise” first. “Chloe, do you even hear yourself?” I set down my water glass, trying to keep my voice calm. Chloe immediately frowned, the smugness on her face dissolving into annoyance. “Mia, how good are we? You’re so well-off now; you don’t even need this apartment!” “But I’m different. Lily is starting school soon, and we can’t do that without a home!” “Can’t you just understand how hard it is for me as a mom? You wouldn’t refuse to help me with such a small thing, would you?” I patiently explained, “It’s not that I don’t want to help. But if I agree, this apartment would be legally yours. Even if you’re in a tough spot, you shouldn’t be asking for something like this.” At that, Chloe shot up, slamming her hand on the coffee table. “You’re living so comfortably now, what’s wrong with giving me a hand?” “I think you’re just stingy! Selfish! Terrified I’ll take advantage of you!” “If I’d known you were like this, I never would have been good to you in the first place!” Her temper flared like spilled gasoline. I was still trying to patiently explain when a small figure suddenly darted towards me. It was Lily, Chloe’s daughter. She clutched a plastic toy knife, aiming it right at my leg. “Bad lady! You’re bullying my mommy! I’m going to kill you!” Lily’s eyes held a viciousness unsettling for her age. The plastic tip of the toy knife poked my leg. It didn’t hurt, but it made my stomach churn. I froze. Lily’s upbringing had always been rough. Before, she’d snatched toys from other kids and even hit them. I’d constantly urged Chloe to teach her better. But Chloe always brushed it off, saying kids would grow out of it. Now, it was clear: it wasn’t a kid’s problem; it was an adult’s. “Lily! What are you doing!” I instinctively pushed her away. Chloe immediately pounced, shielding Lily in her arms. “Mia! Are you crazy? Hitting a child?” I took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger bubbling inside me. “Don’t you think you should do something about your daughter’s behavior?” Chloe, however, became enraged, yelling: “Is Lily wrong? You ARE a bad woman! Bullying us mother and daughter!” “I’m doing this for Lily’s schooling. As her godmother, can’t you just give me the apartment for her sake?” I had felt pity for Chloe and Lily, letting them stay here temporarily. Now, it seemed like a huge mistake. I sighed in exasperation, “I’m not giving you this apartment. You two need to move out now.” Chloe’s eyes immediately widened. “You were the one who let us move in! Now you want to kick us out? No way!” “Today, you either transfer this apartment to me, or we’re staying here indefinitely!” She stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, an utterly unreasonable look on her face.

I stared at Chloe’s unreasonable face, a fire blazing fiercely in my chest. But thinking of our decade-long friendship, I forced myself to calm down. I tossed and turned all night. Ultimately, I still softened. I decided to tell her that Lily’s schooling was already sorted. Maybe then she would back off a little. So I grabbed my phone, opening the screenshot of the principal’s reply from yesterday. But just then, a trending news alert for our city popped up on the top of my screen. The headline stabbed at my eyes. “Best Friend Sits on a Million-Dollar Home While Forcing Mother and Daughter onto the Streets.” My hands trembled as I clicked on the video. Chloe sat on the living room sofa, her eyes red and swollen from crying. “I know I don’t have much, and maybe I don’t deserve to be her best friend, but she shouldn’t treat me like this!” “Not only is she kicking us out, but she also hit my daughter and called her ill-mannered!” “Most importantly, she seduced my husband. Our divorce? It’s all her fault!” The comments section exploded, filled with insults aimed at me. “This woman is too cold-hearted, isn’t she? Does having money make you superior?” “To be so ruthless after a decade of friendship, who would dare be friends with her?” “And seducing her best friend’s husband? That’s just disgusting!” My phone shook in my hand, blood rushing to my head. Unable to hold back, I stormed to her room door and violently pushed it open. Chloe was busy replying to comments on her phone. Seeing me, a flicker of panic crossed her eyes. “What are you doing here? This is my room, get out!” I didn’t say a word. I just raised my hand and slapped her across the face. *SMACK!* The sound was sharp and clear. That slap was for my decade of genuine friendship, and for her vile slanders. Chloe clutched her face, stunned for two seconds before she shrieked, “Mia! You dared to hit me?” Then, she immediately turned her phone towards me, the live comments scrolling wildly. “OMG! This b*tch is hitting people!” “So arrogant! Hitting someone live on camera!” “We have to cyberbully her! Make her pay for bullying people!” It was then that I realized she had been livestreaming. She did it on purpose. She intentionally provoked me to make a fool of me in front of the entire internet! “Get out! Get out of my apartment, right now!” Chloe suddenly laughed, a cold, sinister sound. “How can you afford a million-dollar apartment and live so lavishly? Isn’t it because you seduced my husband? You swindled all his money, and that’s how you bought this place!” “My husband used to be so good to me. Ever since he met you, he started to act cold! He stopped bringing money home. I bet you took it all!” “You’re a whore! You specialize in ruining other people’s families and still dare to bully me!” Chloe had clearly rehearsed her lines, dumping all the blame on me in one go. With those words, the livestream chat went completely wild, a deluge of insults raining down on me. I was so furious I could barely breathe. Just then. A heavy knock echoed from the front door. Chloe immediately ran to open it. The person at the door was indeed Mark, Chloe’s husband. His face was ashen. He didn’t give me a chance to speak. He raised his hand and slapped me. 2. My cheek burned. Mark’s slap was so powerful it felt like my bones would shatter. Then he roared into the camera: “Mia! You’re a bloodsucking liar, a manipulative whore who preys on men!” “This luxury apartment? You clearly bought it with my stolen money! How dare you try to kick us out?” The livestream comments surged even faster, vile words densely covering the screen. “It’s true! This woman looks innocent, but she’s so evil underneath!” “She needs to return the money! Give Chloe justice!” “Mark, don’t be soft! Today, you get back what’s yours!” Clutching my burning cheek, I glared at Mark in a fury: “What nonsense are you spouting?! This apartment was paid for with my parents’ inheritance! It has absolutely nothing to do with you!” Chloe’s lips curled into a sneer. “Mia, we’ve been best friends for over a decade. I know how tight your finances were growing up! Better than anyone!” “Your parents died so young. Back then, you couldn’t even afford college tuition and had to borrow money from me! Where would you get an inheritance?!” “What can you do besides seducing men and swindling their money?!” The commotion soon alerted the neighbors. Several people gathered at the door, starting to gossip about me. “No wonder she could buy a luxury apartment so young. Her money must be dirty…” “A girl in her twenties, how could she have such means? Definitely relies on men!” Their whispers pierced my ears like needles. “Have you forgotten how I treated you all before?” I couldn’t help but roar. Ever since inheriting my parents’ estate, I had genuinely been good to Chloe. Any designer bag she liked, I’d buy for her the moment I saw it. The total was easily over a hundred thousand dollars. When she got married, I gave her a fifty-thousand-dollar cash gift and personally helped decorate her wedding venue. Mark wanted to buy a BMW and was thirty thousand dollars short. When Chloe asked me, I transferred the money that very day, without even asking for an IOU. Even after Lily was born, every time I visited, I bought her clothes and toys, caring more than her own mother. But now, they were conspiring to slander me. Chloe scoffed, “You did all that just to seduce my husband, didn’t you?” “Until you tricked him out of every penny! Forcing him to divorce me!” Mark held Chloe close, his gaze firm as he addressed the camera: “Wife, don’t worry! Once this is sorted, I’ll remarry you and make it up to you and Lily!” “As for a whore like Mia, she just disgusts me now!” I trembled with rage again. I couldn’t fathom how they could be so shameless, so utterly vile! “You two are slandering me, fabricating lies! Aren’t you afraid of the law?!” “Slander?” Mark’s face darkened, then he pulled out his phone and played a video. “Mia, you forced my hand. Now everyone gets to see how you seduced me back then!” When I saw the video’s content, my pupils constricted. I gasped sharply.

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On my boyfriend’s social media, a girl commented: “Dude, your girlfriend’s a murderer’s daughter? Seriously? You into that? I’m way better, hmu.” Before I could even figure out how to explain to Julian, I saw his reply to the comment: “DM me.” I tapped on her profile. My palms turned instantly clammy. Tiffany. For over ten years since high school, I’d wondered how she was doing. Now, I scrolled through her perfectly curated posts. I learned her mom had remarried a wealthy man, bringing Tiffany along. Her life was clearly fantastic, her feed filled with vacation photos from all over the world. But seeing her face, I still remembered over a decade ago, when she and her cronies cornered me in the girls’ restroom. It was the dead of winter, and icy cold water poured over me from head to toe. “You, a murderer’s daughter, how dare you show your face in front of me!” “Your whole damn family is rotten to the core! Give me back my dad! Give me back my dad!” I couldn’t argue. Couldn’t fight back. Because my dad really was a murderer. He’d killed her dad. Later, a new guy transferred to our class and actually tried to befriend me. The day after we walked home together after school, Tiffany loudly declared in front of him. “You’ve got some nerve! Her dad’s a killer!” “Quinn, you’re just like your slutty mom, a real man-eater!” The guy immediately freaked out and cut all ties with me. That day, I finally gathered the courage to retort, “Your dad was the one who wronged my mom first!” Her face twisted. She lunged at me like a maniac, pinning me to the ground and slapping me a dozen times. “Bullshit! Your mother was a homewrecker! A cheap homewrecker who raised a copycat slut just like herself!” The teacher saw the whole thing unfold. But he just silently pulled Tiffany up, looked at me with an expressionless face, and said, “A student like you, consider it a privilege you’re even allowed to stay in school. Don’t you dare cause trouble for your classmates again. From now on, you’re sitting alone in the back.” After I became the victim, no one remembered the terrible things Tiffany’s father had done when he was alive. Everyone only remembered that my dad was a murderer. Countless dark, lonely days, I just pushed through them on my own. But I never expected Tiffany to reappear. Julian, my boyfriend, I’d never told him about my past. Now, he must know, right?

It felt like waiting for a death sentence. I picked up my phone countless times, wanting to call him, but terrified of him calling me. Knowing his personality, he’d definitely come to get answers. But by the evening of the next day, he still hadn’t made a move. Restless, I grabbed the half-empty trash bag and headed downstairs. Just my luck, I bumped right into Julian. My heart lurched. I forced myself to stay calm, opening my mouth in the most normal tone I could muster. “Hey, you’re here? Have you eaten? What do you want? Cook at home or go out?” But no matter how composed I tried to be, I could feel the change in him. I couldn’t ignore it. I tried to act nonchalant. “What’s wrong? You look preoccupied.” Julian gazed at me, his expression complex. “Is there something you’re hiding from me?” My stomach dropped, but I still feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?” “Ugh, what are you waiting for, Julian? Just ask her if her dad really is a murderer!” A sharp female voice cut through the air from nearby. I frantically looked over. Even after all these years, I recognized her instantly: Tiffany. Julian turned to her, displeased. “Are you stalking me?” So, they’d already met? I couldn’t stay calm anymore. My composure shattered, and I instinctively stumbled back a few paces. “Tiffany!” “Well, well, still remember me, Quinn?” She smiled at me, just like she had over ten years ago. “Yeah, your dad killed mine. Guess you’re never gonna forget me, huh?” Forget? No, I could never forget. She once grabbed my hair and held my head under ice-cold water. She once locked me in a pitch-black warehouse for an entire night. She once cornered me, grinning maliciously as she made everyone line up to slap me. … There was too much. I’d never forget any of it. I managed a stiff smile. “Long time no see.” Tiffany strolled closer, her gaze dismissive. “Yeah, it’s been a while. And you’re still living so comfortably! Don’t you feel any guilt seeing me?” I clenched my fists. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then, Julian spoke calmly. “I don’t want to see you anymore.” Tiffany smirked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Hear that? He doesn’t want to see you. If you know what’s good for you, get lost!” But this was my apartment building. I seemed to have lost my ability to speak, unable to form any explanation or rebuttal. Until I heard Julian’s voice again. “I was talking about you. Can’t you understand plain English?” I looked up, seeing him direct a look of utter disgust at Tiffany. Tiffany froze, then shrieked in disbelief. “Are you insane?! Everything I told you today meant nothing?! Quinn’s dad is a murderer! He killed my dad!” Julian merely stated, his voice even. “Her father was the murderer, not her.”

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Everyone knew the rumors that Caspian, the head of the powerful Vance family, was completely impotent. But I didn’t believe it. I secretly slipped an aphrodisiac into Caspian’s drink. That night, I clung to him until he lost control. And finally, I got what I wanted – his child. When Caspian found out, he didn’t lash out at me for my reckless act, for exposing his secret. Instead, he canceled crucial projects, coming home on time every day to be with me during my pregnancy. My friends all teased, saying I, his ‘trophy girlfriend,’ would soon secure my place and become Mrs. Vance. Until five months into the pregnancy. Caspian suddenly ordered his men to beat my unborn child out of me with wooden sticks: “I knew there was something wrong with the wine you gave me that night. The people you slept with were just two homeless men I picked up, all to make sure you understood your place.” “This child can’t stay. Afterward, I’ll send you to The Serenity House to properly learn what it means to be a mistress.”

Looking at Caspian’s cold, unfeeling face, my heart turned to ashes. By the time he finally bothered to pick me up, I was already a broken mess, a shadow of my former self. The moment I saw Caspian, I recoiled like a frightened cat, scurrying into the corner. Caspian’s outstretched hand hung awkwardly in mid-air, his face stiffening. I used to cling to him the most. Before coming, he’d probably imagined how I would playfully complain and demand his attention. The stark contrast clearly annoyed Caspian. He immediately yelled at me, “I went to all this trouble to send you here for ‘re-education,’ and you can’t even be grateful for that!” “Now that I finally made time to pick you up, you treat me like this. Elara, you’ve truly disappointed me!” “Serena was right, a heartless, low-class girl like you doesn’t deserve my efforts at all.” Low-class tramp. Those few words pierced my eardrums, dragging me back to the past. That year, during my junior year of college, my mother was diagnosed with brain cancer. To cover her medical bills, I dropped out and went to work as a hostess at a bar, where the money came quickly. It was there I met Caspian. This man, whom I’d only met once, not only paid for my exorbitant medical expenses but also ‘bought me out’ of the bar to keep me by his side. My colleagues said I was incredibly lucky; he was the richest man in the entire state. I paused, thinking, Someone so powerful, it’s hard for them to be faithful, right? As I expected, Caspian had a never-ending string of women; I was just one of hundreds of his ‘kept women.’ At first, I wondered why all hundred-plus of us had an uncanny resemblance. It wasn’t until I saw the delicate and rarely seen Serena by Caspian’s side that it dawned on me: we were all just substitutes for her. Initially, I could still tell myself to stay grounded, to be ready to walk away anytime. But my colleagues’ envy and Caspian’s special attention gradually made me forget my status as a mistress. I grew greedier, wanting to stay by his side forever, so I went to extreme lengths to get pregnant with his child. Caspian said nothing, even taking better care of me than before. I secretly rejoiced, letting myself believe I was truly his exception. It wasn’t until he brutally beat my child out of me with sticks and threw me into The Serenity House that I finally faced reality. Caspian’s final warning burned itself into my memory before I left. “Remember your position,” he’d said, his voice cold as steel. “A kept woman should never forget her place or entertain foolish dreams.” Three years of brutal conditioning taught me the devastating price of forgetting that lesson. If I had a second chance, I would stay far, far away from him. The man’s curses snapped me back to reality. I looked at his ugly expression, feeling utterly confused. I wasn’t crossing any lines anymore, so why was Caspian still angry?

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To avenge the humiliation of his broken engagement years ago, I stole his company’s core secrets. The once high-and-mighty CEO, begging me to let him go, willingly became my kept man. His lover, driven by me to a miscarriage, fled town. Julian hated me, called me a viper. By day, he played the doting husband, but by night, he tormented me relentlessly in bed. It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer that I decided to let him go, and finally, let myself go too. I signed over all my assets back to him, along with a divorce agreement. “Julian, game over.” But he shattered. He tore the documents apart, his eyes wild as he crowded me against the wall. “You started it. How dare you decide when it ends? Scarlett, even if we’re going to hell, you’re coming with me!” … I once loved Julian with all my heart. That kind of love was etched into my very bones, the kind that made you believe you’d never be apart. I still remember, one winter, I had a terrible cold, burning with fever. Julian, that pampered man who never lifted a finger, clumsily stood in the kitchen, insisting on making me a hearty homemade soup. In the end, the soup wasn’t even ready, but he’d already scalded his hands with the steam. He hid his red hands behind his back, still trying to act tough. “What are you looking at? Drink your soup, and you’ll be better.” Back then, the tenderness in his eyes could drown a person. But now, that tenderness was long gone, given to someone else. I turned off the stove and ladled the slow-cooked soup into a bowl, placing it on the dining table. The sound of keys turning in the lock echoed from the entryway. Julian was home, bringing with him the cold chill of winter and the faint scent of another woman’s perfume. He stripped off his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the sofa, and loosened his tie. When his gaze landed on the bowl of soup, a sneer, raw and undisguised, curved his lips. “What new game are you playing today, Scarlett?” He sauntered over, pulling out the chair opposite me and sitting down. “Poisoning the soup? Yes, that sounds exactly like you.” I picked up my spoon, stirring the soup slowly, not bothering to look up. “You think too highly of yourself, Julian. Poison is expensive. You’re not worth it anymore.” His face instantly darkened. He tapped his fingers on the table, a dull, rhythmic sound filling the silence. “Then you’d better give me an explanation, or I’ll pour this entire bowl over your head.” “Nothing to explain,” I finally met his gaze. “I just suddenly wanted some, and figured I’d ladle you a bowl too. Drink it or don’t, it’s up to you.” We were like two porcupines, never saying a kind word, as if whoever showed weakness first would lose. I had been living this way for three years. He hated me for stealing his company’s secrets, for bringing down his family, and even more, for driving away his beloved Layla. I hated him for publicly breaking our engagement, for making my family and me the laughingstock of the city. We tormented each other, neither willing to let go. “Scarlett, stop looking so pathetic. It’s disgusting.” He scoffed, standing up, as if being in the same room as me was unbearable. “Wait.” I called out. The familiar wrenching pain began in my stomach again, but I couldn’t let it show. He turned impatiently. “What do you want?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I pulled out the documents I’d prepared from a nearby drawer and pushed them across the table to him. One was a divorce agreement. The other was the full transfer of his company’s shares. “These are all yours again.” My voice was weary. “Julian, I’m tired.” I expected him to be overjoyed, to sign them without a second thought, and then rush off to his Layla. I had even planned to go to the hospital after he left, to spend my remaining time in peace. But his eyes turned bloodshot. He snatched the divorce agreement and tore it into a million pieces. He lunged forward, slamming both hands on the wall beside my head, trapping me between his body and the cold surface. “Game over? You started it, Scarlett. How dare you decide when it ends? Even if we’re going to hell, you’re coming with me!”

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The Hayes family came to the orphanage to choose a daughter – a sister for their son, Adrian. Every child hoped to be selected. Everyone except me. I was hiding in the old tree in the backyard. In this life, I refused to become a Hayes. I wouldn’t become Adrian’s wife, trapped in that gilded cage, suffocating, wasting away my life. This time, I only wanted an ordinary, free life. But as I climbed down, I found Adrian leaning against the trunk. He looked up at me, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Chloe. Did you have fun up there?” The moment I saw Adrian, I almost thought my worst nightmare was unfolding again. It wasn’t until Ms. Evelyn, the orphanage director, scurried over, her voice a mix of reprimand and urgency. “Chloe! What are you doing here? Mr. Hayes has been looking for you everywhere!” Only then did I snap back to reality. This wasn’t a dream. This was a second chance, a crucial turning point in my restarted life. I froze. Ms. Evelyn pulled me down from the tree, brushed the dust off my clothes, straightened my collar, and gently pushed me towards Adrian. “This child is usually very well-behaved. I don’t know what got into her today.” She explained in a low voice. Adrian, however, just stared at me, his gaze holding a disturbing intensity I couldn’t read. He offered a slight smile and extended a hand. “Chloe, it’s a pleasure.” The way he said my name sent a familiar jolt through me, a heart stopping sensation like being caught in a web. I took an instinctive step backward, avoiding his eyes as alarm bells screamed in my head. Why? I’d tried to hide, to disappear. Why did he still find me? Why did it have to be me? “Why me?” I heard my own voice, dry and hoarse. Ms. Evelyn bent down, explaining softly and kindly, “Chloe, Mr. Hayes wants to take you home. You’ll have a new family, a mom, a dad, and…” She glanced at Adrian. “You’ll even have an older brother.” Ms. Evelyn’s smile was genuinely relieved. In her eyes, this was the best possible outcome for an orphan. But she didn’t know. I’d lived it once. I knew exactly what that outcome tasted like. “Chloe, will you come home with me?” Adrian’s voice was softer than I remembered from his youth in my past life, even carrying a hint of… seduction? This scene was too familiar. Memories of my past life flooded back. The strict etiquette lessons. The endless piano practice, learning to mimic every move, every word of his deceased sister. And then, the orchestrated wedding night. The fifteen years of a marriage filled with mutual disgust, where we tormented each other daily. “No.” I cut him off sharply, looking up at Ms. Evelyn. “Ms. Evelyn, I don’t want to be adopted.” The air instantly froze. Adrian’s reaction was the strongest. He frowned slightly, but there was no anger, only a persistent question. “Why not?” “Because I don’t want to be your sister.” I met his gaze, trying to find a crack in his composure. My blunt refusal seemed to amuse him. He smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. His voice softened further, an inappropriate indulgence in his tone. “Then you don’t have to be my sister. Just come back to the Hayes house, live with us, okay?” Ms. Evelyn tugged at my sleeve discreetly, but I shook my head again. “No.” I thought my firm refusal would make him give up. But when Ms. Evelyn hesitantly asked Mr. and Mrs. Hayes if they wanted to see other children, Adrian spoke with unwavering conviction. “Dad, Mom, I only want her.” He looked at me, his gaze heavy, and added the line that echoed from my past life: “Only she reminds me most of Mia.” In my past life, Adrian chose me because my eyes and brows bore a resemblance to his sister, Mia, who had tragically passed away young. Back then, I’d thought it was a stroke of luck, a blessing from above.

I was brought back to the Hayes’ mansion, my name changed to Chloe Hayes, and placed in a meticulously decorated room that never truly felt like mine. Mrs. Hayes declared, “Orphanage kids tend to pick up habits that aren’t exactly presentable. We need to fix that.” So I worked tirelessly to shed every ‘bad habit,’ becoming poised and graceful, less and less like the Chloe I was, and more and more like the Mia in their memories. Mrs. Hayes was relentlessly strict. I had to practice piano for at least six hours a day. Even when the teacher politely suggested I had limited talent, Mrs. Hayes would sit with me every single day. “It’s alright, Chloe. Hard work pays off. Mia had to practice just as hard.” It wasn’t until later that I understood: playing the piano was Mia’s passion. They were desperately trying to mold me into someone else’s shadow. But I didn’t care. A dying fish wouldn’t complain about murky wate. It just wants to live. Love, to me, was just another means to that end. I worked even harder, striving to become the Chloe Hayes they wanted, to win Mrs. Hayes’s approval, and to secretly catch Adrian’s eye. We truly seemed like a family. Then came the night of Adrian’s engagement party to a socialite from an equally prominent family. He was drugged, completely out of control, and I mistakenly stumbled into his room. Mr. Hayes immediately suffered a heart attack from the shock. Mrs. Hayes slapped me across the face, her eyes icy cold. “If I’d known this would happen, I never would have let you through our door!” Adrian watched me in silence, his expression unreadable. I thought, he probably regretted it too. Regretted picking me, this ‘disaster.’ “It wasn’t me, I didn’t know.” My explanations were useless. No one believed me. In the marriage that followed, Adrian used that incident countless times to wound me. “You were so desperate to marry into this family, you’d even drug your own… me. Chloe, this is your karma.” He hated me, and so, after our wedding, he found endless ways to humiliate me, making me the laughingstock of our social circle. Everyone bet our marriage wouldn’t last a year. “Once she has the baby, Adrian will definitely dump her.” But tragically, he and I were entangled for two decades. Even when I died from a severe illness, my tombstone still bore the inscription, ‘Adrian Hayes’ Wife.’ “Chloe, tell me, why are you so against it?” After Mr. and Mrs. Hayes left, Ms. Evelyn brought me to her office, her voice confused and worried. I was silent for a long time before I finally whispered, “I can’t bear to leave here. I can’t bear to leave you.” Ms. Evelyn sighed, urging me to reconsider. I knew she meant well. But my mind was set on escaping my predetermined fate. However, that very night, an accidental fire broke out in the orphanage kitchen. A single blaze shattered all my plans. “Did you do this?” The hospital’s antiseptic smell stung my nostrils. I stared at Adrian, who had rushed over, and coldly questioned him. He paused, looking weary from travel, then gave a bitter smile. “Chloe, do you really think so little of me?” “The fire inspection said it was old wiring. I just… wanted to help.” He looked towards the intensive care unit. “I’ll cover Ms. Evelyn’s medical expenses. As long as you…” He paused, his voice low. “As long as you agree to come home with me.” I scoffed. “Taking advantage of someone at their lowest? Is that what a ‘good person’ does?” Adrian didn’t argue. He just said, “You don’t have to be my sister. Just stay at the Hayes’ house for now. My mom… she’s been very emotional lately. Seeing you might bring her some comfort.” The reason was exactly the same as in my past life. I looked at the young but intensely serious Adrian before me, and suddenly felt incredibly tired. “Is that all?” His eyes flickered, and he nodded. “That’s all.” Finally, looking at the unconscious Ms. Evelyn, I nodded. I couldn’t just watch her treatment be delayed because of medical costs. On the car ride back to the Hayes’ mansion, Adrian tried to make conversation, but I remained silent. He watched the fleeting streetlights outside the window and said softly, “The Hayes family can give you a better life and future than the orphanage. Chloe, don’t blame me. I’m doing this for your own good.” “I’m doing this for your own good.” Adrian had fed me that line countless times in my past life. He despised me. He made me suffer. Yet, in my final days, he developed this absurd, possessive remorse. When he threw away the cat I had rescued, the one comfort I had left in my sickness, he used those same empty words: “It’s for your own good.” That’s when I knew. His “for your own good” was just for his own conscience. It was always about him.

When we arrived at the Hayes’ residence, Mrs. Hayes was indeed waiting outside. The moment she saw me, she rushed forward, her smile warm but tinged with exhaustion. “Chloe, you’re here? Your room’s all ready for you.” She took my hand and led me upstairs, pushing open a door. It was the familiar room: lace curtains, a four-poster bed draped in silks, plush toys overflowing from every corner, and that gleaming, expensive grand piano. Everything was just as Mia had left it, preserved perfectly. “Do you like it?” Mrs. Hayes looked at me expectantly. I pulled my hand away, lowering my eyes. “Mrs. Hayes, this is your daughter’s room, isn’t it? These things are very precious. It wouldn’t be right for me to stay here. What if I broke something? The guest room downstairs would be fine.” Mrs. Hayes froze for a moment, still wanting to insist. “But…” “Mom.” Adrian cut her off. “Let’s just do what Chloe wants. She prefers quiet.” He looked at me, his eyes seemingly seeing through my evasion. His room was right next door. In my past life, before the engagement incident, Adrian and I had a relatively good relationship. In our teenage years, when Mrs. Hayes playfully asked what kind of boy I liked, I’d looked at Adrian, fresh from his workout, and blurted out, “Someone just like him.” That innocent remark later became irrefutable ‘proof’ that I had ‘coveted’ him and resorted to despicable tactics to marry him. Every time I struggled to explain, “I didn’t do that,” he’d grip my chin, his eyes cold, a sneer on his lips. “You said you liked me at sixteen, liked me enough to use such low-down schemes? Chloe, you disgust me.” Perhaps it was being back in the old place, but that night, I was tormented by nightmares. I dreamt of myself, gravely ill, with the doctor advising, “Let your family and friends visit more often.” I shook my head. “I have no family.” Friends? My best friend back then was Skylar, Adrian’s fiancée. Five years into my marriage with Adrian, Skylar returned from studying abroad. Adrian personally picked her up and threw a lavish welcome-home party for her. Someone ‘kindly’ sent me a video – in a secluded corner booth, they were locked in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world. A short, few-second video, I watched it on repeat all night. The next day, I went to the hospital to abort our accidentally conceived second child, and then placed divorce papers in front of Adrian. He asked, “Why?” I showed him the video. “Skylar’s back. Let’s get a divorce.” I had tried to divorce him many times before, and each time he refused. I thought, this time, he’d agree. But he shredded the agreement, deleted the video, and glared at me. “Don’t even think about it.” “Chloe? Chloe!” I was shaken awake, still trembling with fear, and instinctively slapped him. The sharp crack of the slap echoed loudly in the night. A younger Adrian clutched his cheek, looking at me in shock, his eyes holding both hurt and concern. “I heard you crying…” He finished, then turned towards the door, pausing at the frame. “Breakfast is ready. I’ll drive you to your new school after you eat.” Just like in my past life, I transferred to the elite private school Adrian attended. As I followed him into the classroom, countless eyes immediately fell on us. “Adrian, who’s she?” someone asked curiously. Adrian smiled slightly, introducing me. “This is Chloe. She’s staying with my family for now.” He glossed over the word “for now.” I watched his tall, straight back, and suddenly noticed something felt off. The Adrian before me wasn’t as distant as he’d been as a teenager in my past life, nor as gloomy and cold as he’d become later. My heart gave a sudden leap, and an absurd thought surfaced. “Adrian.” I called out to him. Almost simultaneously, another voice spoke up. “Adrian.” We both turned. Standing at the classroom door was Skylar.

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