My boyfriend, the one I was crazy in love with, turned out to be a married jerk. When I confronted him, his wife opened the door and just cut to the chase: “Ten million. Help me take him down. In or out?” In! Hell yeah, I’m in! Revenge and getting rich? That’s the best damn deal on earth! So, I quit my job and went undercover at his company, teaming up with his wife. Together, we slowly but surely pushed that arrogant bastard into the grave we dug for him. Don’t even talk to me about love. All I care about now is cash and chaos! It was *that* kind of night. Roses, champagne, and his warm kisses still tingling on my collarbone. The sound of water running in the bathroom, Julian Hayes was washing away the day’s stress. Everything was perfect. Until his phone, which he’d left on the nightstand, buzzed at the absolute worst moment. The screen lit up, and my eyes just drifted to it. **[Lily’s running a 103.6 fever! Where the hell are you?!]** Lily? Who was Lily? Fever? My mind went blank. Maybe a relative’s kid? A younger sister or something? But then, the second message completely shattered any hopeful thoughts. **[Julian Hayes, what kind of father are you?! If you want a divorce, just say so!]** Julian Hayes, father! Those words felt utterly foreign to me. My boyfriend of three years was married, with a kid! The love story he’d built for me, a perfect fairy tale, crashed down in an instant. The man who swore I was the only light in his life, who even said he was willing to be child-free for me, had a whole family already. No wonder he was willing to be child-free. He already had a child. The bathroom door creaked open. Julian came out wrapped in a towel, water droplets glistening on his sculpted abs. He closed his eyes, instinctively reaching for me, his voice a husky, sexy whisper: “Valerie, come here, give me a hug, and blow-dry my hair.” It was almost instinct. I tossed his phone back onto the nightstand and stiffly walked over. The hair dryer’s hum was piercingly loud. Hot air blasted through his hair, but I felt nothing. He scooped me up, carrying me to the soft bed, his hot breath overwhelming me. “My darling, happy romantic night.” His kisses were aggressive, exploring eagerly. My stomach lurched, a wave of nausea I couldn’t hold back. I shoved him away. “Your phone… it just rang,” I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. “Sounds urgent.” A flicker of annoyance, almost imperceptible, crossed Julian’s handsome face, but I still caught it. “What could be more important than you?” He chuckled, his large hand already moving back over my body. “Tonight, you’re only mine.” Just as his hand was about to cross my line, his phone rang sharply, ripping through the sensual tension in the room. Julian’s face completely darkened. I practically scrambled off the bed, grabbed that insistent phone, and handed it to him, a hint of defiance in my eyes that even I hadn’t realized was there. He glared at me, then snatched the phone, turned, and strode onto the balcony, slamming the glass door shut. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, only saw the tension and frustration in his rigid back. A few minutes later, he pushed the door open, fully dressed. “Something urgent came up at work, I have to go immediately.” He leaned in, trying to kiss me, but I instinctively turned my head away. His movements stiffened. In the end, he just mumbled, “Be good, I’ll be back,” before rushing out. The moment the door closed, the whole world fell silent. Two hours later, at 2 AM, a call came in from my best friend, a nurse in the downtown hospital’s emergency room. “Valerie! I just saw Julian Hayes! He was holding a little girl, with a haggard-looking woman by his side, rushing into pediatrics, sweating buckets! The kid… she kept crying and calling him ‘Daddy’!” The call ended. I sank to the floor. I was the other woman.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Only one thing on my mind: destroy Julian. As soon as dawn broke, I drove straight to the hospital. In the pediatric ward hallway, I spotted her right away: Victoria Hayes. She was sitting on a chair, beautiful but utterly exhausted. I walked over, the click of my heels alerting her. She looked up at me, her eyes devoid of emotion, as if she’d expected me. “You’re Julian Hayes’s wife?” I cut straight to the chase. I wished so badly she’d shake her head, or even say “ex-wife.” Anything to ease the guilt in my gut. But she just nodded faintly. “I know you, Valerie Davis. Julian got involved with you three years ago, right after I got pregnant.” Oh. My. God. I felt like the biggest, most humiliated fool on the planet, practically glowing with it. My grand romance, my great love story, was built on someone else’s pregnancy and pain. “Let’s talk somewhere.” I struggled to keep my voice even, forcing the words through clenched teeth. Downstairs at the coffee shop, I ordered an iced water. So did she. I was fully braced for her to throw it in my face. But she just watched me, saying nothing. Her silence made my anxiety even worse. “Listen, divorce him.” Finally, she raised an eyebrow, a mocking twist to her lips: “The mistress wants to move up? That eager?” “You’ve got it all wrong,” I scoffed, slamming my water cup down. “Julian told me he was single. Now that the truth’s out, a man dirtier than a dumpster? You don’t want him, and I certainly don’t need him!” My honesty seemed to surprise her. The scrutiny in her eyes sharpened into curiosity. “You think I don’t want a divorce?” She gave a bitter laugh. “You overestimate yourself. He has women outside, more than a field of weeds. He mows one down, another springs up. You, you’re just the freshest one.” Another heavy blow. So I wasn’t just the other woman. I was just another disposable plaything, probably not even worth a number in his little black book! Seeing my expression, like I’d just swallowed a fly, Victoria’s eyes finally softened a bit – a shared understanding, a kinship between victims. Rage shot straight to my brain. “So you just put up with it?” I asked. “Julian won’t divorce easily. His career needs the facade of a stable family,” she stated, hitting the nail on the head. “So, you’re trapped?” I pressed. “We’re *both* trapped,” she corrected. I got it. Both of us, played by that bastard. In that moment, mistress, wife, all that crap just melted away. We were two peas in a pod, both screwed over by the same jerk. The only enemy was the son of a bitch who started this whole fire. “I’ll help you,” I said, staring into her eyes, enunciating each word. “Help you gather evidence, help you stir up public opinion, help you strip him bare. I don’t want anything for myself, just to see his reputation in ruins.” Victoria stared at me for a full thirty seconds, then spoke. “I want him bankrupt. I want him to walk away with nothing.” A faint smile touched her lips, a spark of life finally returning to her eyes. “You help me, and when it’s all done, I’ll give you ten million. In or out?” What?! Ten million? Revenge and getting rich? This was the best damn deal on earth. “In!” I answered without a shred of hesitation. We pulled out our phones. No more talk. We just exchanged SnapChat contacts. The moment the friend request went through, I knew it. Game on. Our goal: to personally drag that high-and-mighty Julian Hayes down and stomp him into the dirt.

The day after we connected on SnapChat, Victoria immediately sent me the profiles of two other women, with one simple message: **[These two are also victims. Hook them in if you can. More people, more power.]** I clicked them open. The first was Willow Greene, a designer. The profile said that Julian, that bastard, won a major design award last year, bragging about it endlessly. But the truth was, he’d completely swindled the concept from Willow. He not only stole her hard work for free but also sabotaged her project, almost driving her to bankruptcy. The second was Ashley Roberts, a former finance employee at Julian’s company. This girl had it even worse. Because she was pretty, Julian tried to make a move on her. When she refused, that son of a bitch found an excuse to fire her, pinning a bogus charge on her that ruined her reputation in the industry. I looked at both profiles, my blood boiling. Julian Hayes, that animal, was an absolute scumbag. Victoria’s message was clear: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I contacted Willow first. We met at a secluded studio. The moment she saw me, her eyes were filled with wariness. “Who are you? What do you want?” “I’m Julian Hayes’s… another victim.” I didn’t beat around the bush. I laid out my and Victoria’s plan. “We’re going to hit him hard. Put him behind bars, and bankrupt him. That design he stole from you? We can help you get justice for it, and make sure he gets what’s coming to him. Are you in?” Willow froze, probably not expecting me to be so direct. She was silent for a long time, her eyes slowly welling up. That stolen design was her heart and soul, the result of countless sleepless nights. It was her baby. “Why should I trust you?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “You don’t have to trust me,” I handed her my phone with Victoria’s SnapChat profile. “You should trust her. She’s Julian Hayes’s wife. What we need now is a sharp blade to expose his business lies. And you, you’re that blade.” Willow stared intently into my eyes. Finally, she gritted her teeth and nodded: “I’m in! I kept the original copies of all those messed-up contracts he tricked me into signing!” One down. Next, Ashley Roberts. Ashley was harder to deal with than Willow. Julian had terrified her, and she’d tremble at the mere mention of his name. I tried to meet her three times before she finally agreed to a noisy fast-food restaurant. “I don’t want anything to do with him anymore. Please, just leave me alone,” she mumbled, head bowed, her voice barely a whisper. “Leave you alone? You wish!” I slammed my hand on the table, drawing stares from everyone around us. “You think hiding will make it all go away? The dirt Julian threw on you will follow you forever! Everywhere you go, people will whisper behind your back! Do you want to live like a pathetic coward your whole life?” My words cut her like knives. She suddenly looked up, her eyes full of tears. “But what can I do…?” “What can you do? You throw it right back at him, of course!” I lowered my voice, leaning closer. “We’re taking him down now, and we’re going to make it as big as possible. You were his finance person. You know better than anyone how rotten his company’s books are. You don’t need to show your face. You just need to tell us where his weak spots are. Like, which accounts are shady, which projects are empty shells.” I looked at her, saying each word clearly: “We’re not asking you for a favor. We’re giving you a chance. A chance to get back all the injustice, all the bitterness, with interest.” Ashley’s breathing grew faster and faster. Finally, as if making a monumental decision, she pulled a USB drive from her bag and pushed it across the table to me. “This is a backup I kept. It has evidence of some of his fake accounts. I was scared back then, didn’t dare bring it out…” She took a deep breath. “Now, take it! Destroy him!”

The alliance was formed. Next step: action. Victoria’s plan was simple and direct: I needed to get into Julian’s company and gather dirt on him. This suited me perfectly. Julian had been pestering me for ages, wanting me to be his secretary, saying it would be “convenient for us to see each other anytime.” Back then, I found it annoying and kept making excuses. Now, I couldn’t wait to get there. The next morning, I walked straight into my dead-end job and handed my boss my resignation letter. As I was packing my things, that fake-sweet Tiffany from the office started with her passive-aggressive jabs: “Oh, some people just get lucky, find a rich boyfriend, and never have to work again. Just lie back and count the money.” I was already in a foul mood today, and she walked right into my crosshairs. Without a word, I walked over and gave her a hard slap across her face. The entire office went silent. “Is your mouth too busy with the boss last night to remember a toothbrush?” I glared at her, smiling like a villain. “I saw you, you know, in the breakroom. Tsk, tsk, quite a show.” Tiffany’s face instantly flushed red. She clutched her cheek, unable to utter a single word. I grabbed my box and walked out, leaving everyone gaping in shock. I was done playing nice. That very evening, Julian heard about my resignation and immediately came rushing over, practically tripping over himself, his eyes gleaming. “Valerie, my darling, you finally came around!” He hugged me, ecstatic. “Come be my secretary. We can be together every day, office play, whenever, wherever…” I suppressed a wave of nausea, pasting a fake smile on my face, tracing circles on his chest. “Oh, you’re so naughty. I’ll be shy.” Inside, I was thinking: *Play that with your mother!* He was utterly consumed by desire, immediately dragging me towards the bed. I was about to lose it, about to break character, when I had a sudden idea. I clamped my legs together, wincing, and looked at him with a pained expression. “Honey, I can’t… my period just came.” Julian’s movements froze. The desire on his face instantly morphed into irritation and suspicion: “Didn’t you just get it last week?” “Oh, you know, I’ve been so stressed lately, my cycle’s been a bit irregular…” I blinked my innocent eyes, internally awarding myself an Oscar for that performance. Though annoyed, he didn’t force it. He just went to the bathroom for a cold shower. The next day, I officially started at Julian Hayes Enterprises as the President’s Special Assistant. The moment I stepped into the company, I felt countless eyes on me: jealous, contemptuous, waiting for a show. Whatever. I was here to cause trouble, not make friends. I leveraged Julian’s favoritism to familiarize myself with everything in the company. Which departments were key, which executives were his loyalists, which surveillance cameras were broken. Everything was going according to plan. Until the third afternoon of my employment. I was pretending to bring him coffee, passing by a meeting room, when I heard a voice inside. It was Ashley Roberts. My heart sank. Wasn’t she fired ages ago? What was she doing here? I quietly pressed my ear to the door, catching Julian’s assistant talking to someone: “…Don’t worry, the Ashley Roberts situation has been completely handled. All the core accounts she ever touched, I had everyone re-cover them three times with the new system. Even a god couldn’t find anything.” The USB drive Ashley gave us… was it fake? Or rather, was it just useless data now?

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After a terrible car crash, my eyes were severely damaged. The day they finally healed, I started seeing a strange number floating above every woman’s head. My wife’s number was 0. My mother-in-law’s was 30. And my wife’s best friend had a 45. What did these numbers mean? As I investigated, I uncovered a shocking truth… 1: *CRASH!* I watched, helpless, as the speeding car slammed into mine, even though I’d braced myself. The moment of impact hit me like a suffocating wave of death. I barely felt any pain before I passed out. When I finally woke up, I could faintly hear a voice nearby. “Good thing you arrived in time. The patient’s condition is stable now.” Another voice spoke up. “Thank you, Doctor. We truly appreciate it.” It was my wife, Chloe. She kept thanking the doctor. I knew I’d survived the crash, but why was everything black? I couldn’t see anything. I managed to let out a weak sound, and Chloe heard it. She rushed to my side. “Honey, are you awake?” I whispered back, “Why can’t I see anything?” The doctor’s voice chimed in again. “Your eyes suffered severe trauma in the accident. We’ve done our best, but we can’t promise a full recovery. Please prepare yourself for that possibility.” A heavy silence fell over me. In the days that followed, Chloe stayed by my side at the hospital, caring for me. I’d often ask her, “Honey, what if my eyes never get better?” Chloe would always comfort me, saying, “Don’t be silly! You’ll definitely get better, I promise.” Our financial situation wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. The expensive medical bills started to weigh on my mind. I asked Chloe, “Honey, what about the driver who hit me?” Chloe spoke softly, “That driver hit you and then fled the scene. They still haven’t been found. The car had stolen plates, and the police haven’t found any leads yet.” Chloe seemed to sense my thoughts. “Honey, don’t worry about it. Even if we never find that driver, we have to get you well.” “Don’t stress about the money.” I said nothing. During my hospital stay, besides both our parents, Chloe’s best friend visited me the most. Her name was Maya. We’d met a few times. Like Chloe, she was a true stunner. Her figure and looks were absolutely gorgeous. I figured she worried Chloe would get bored staying in the hospital all day, so she’d come over to chat with her whenever she had free time. I secretly vowed that once I recovered, I’d treat her to a nice meal to thank her properly. Perhaps it was Chloe’s meticulous care, but my eyes, which could initially only perceive a faint light, slowly began to show signs of recovery. This reignited my hope. After two months of recuperation in the hospital, my vision miraculously returned. Even the doctors called it a miracle. But the moment I opened my eyes, the scene before me baffled me. I faintly saw a blue number floating above Chloe’s head. It was a 0. Could it be that my eyes had just recovered, and I was seeing things? I rubbed my eyes, then looked at her head again. This time, I was certain I wasn’t mistaken. There was indeed a number 0 above Chloe’s head. Just then, the doctor and a nurse walked into the room. The doctor didn’t have a number above his head, but the female nurse did. It was a 5. I froze. Chloe, seeing me staring intently at her head, couldn’t help but look up at the ceiling too. “What’s wrong, honey?” I whispered, “Chloe, your… why is there a zero above your head? And the nurse has a 5 above hers.” 2: Hearing this, Chloe touched her own head. “There’s nothing there, honey. What’s wrong? Are your eyes still adjusting after recovering?” The doctor also told me, “Your eyes were blind for several months. It’s perfectly normal to experience some visual hallucinations after regaining sight. Just a few days of rest at home, and you’ll be fine.” In the end, I had no choice but to believe the doctor. But as my wife handled my discharge paperwork, I sat in the hospital lobby. I noticed that among the people coming and going, men didn’t have numbers above their heads, but all women did. Most of them were 0s. I couldn’t believe this was just a hallucination. Just then, a voice called out, “Chloe!” I looked up. It was Maya. She walked in through the hospital entrance, waving at Chloe, who was beside me. And a number appeared above Maya’s head: 45. I was stunned. While most women had 0s above their heads, including my wife Chloe, why were some numbers different? Like Maya’s, why was hers 45? Maya came over to us. After greeting Chloe, she looked at me. “Hey, Writer! Congrats on getting discharged! You’ve been through so much, good fortune is definitely heading your way!” I quickly smiled and nodded at her, saying “Thank you.” Chloe said to me, “Honey, our car was totaled in the accident, so I had to ask Maya to pick us up from the hospital.” I smiled but said nothing, still trying to figure out why all women had numbers above their heads. Once we were in the car, Chloe was worried I might be uncomfortable, so she had me sit in the back while she and Maya sat upfront, chatting. I, however, kept staring at the numbers above their heads. It wasn’t until we arrived at our apartment building and parked that I got out and said to Maya, “Hey, Maya, thank you for visiting Chloe so often at the hospital. I’ll definitely treat you to dinner sometime soon.” Maya laughed, “Oh, it’s no big deal. Chloe’s my best friend. Visiting you and keeping her company was no trouble at all.” I was about to speak when suddenly, the number above Maya’s head flickered. It changed from 45 to 46. I was stunned again. What in the world was going on? I was certain this isn’t a hallucination, but what did these numbers above their heads mean? Chloe’s number was still 0, unchanged. Why did Maya’s number change? Before I could figure it out, Chloe said to Maya, “Maya, Leo’s discharged today, and both our parents are at our place, so we won’t keep you.” “We’ll thank you properly another time.” Maya was very understanding. She nodded, then looked at me. “Go home and rest well. Don’t make Chloe worry anymore.” I nodded at her, and she started her car and drove away. When we got home, both sets of parents, all four of them, surrounded us, asking about my health. But my attention was fixed on my mom and mother-in-law’s heads. To my surprise, my mom’s head didn’t show a number, but my mother-in-law’s had a 30. I was dumbfounded again. This was another different number. These numbers were driving me crazy! What on earth did they mean? But the more I thought about it, the more my eyes ached. In the end, I decided to stop thinking about it. Back home, everyone agreed I should rest. They didn’t let me sit up for long, urging me to lie down in the bedroom. They started talking in the living room about the hit-and-run driver, saying they needed to find him and make him pay. Unconsciously, drowsiness crept in, and I lay down and fell asleep, hoping that when I woke up the next day, those numbers wouldn’t be there anymore. 3: The next day. When I woke up, Chloe was already out of bed. She was preparing breakfast for me. I quickly went to the kitchen doorway and looked at her head. The number was still there. She noticed me behind her and turned around, smiling softly. “Honey, you’re awake! Breakfast will be ready soon.” Seeing her already dressed in a business suit, I asked, “Chloe, are you going out?” Chloe replied, “Of course. I haven’t been to work for months taking care of you. The company has called me countless times. If I don’t go back soon, I might lose my supervisor position.” “You stay home and rest. Don’t worry about work for now.” I nodded at her. Chloe left without eating breakfast with me. Staying cooped up in the house felt stifling, so I decided to go for a walk downstairs in our apartment complex. During my walk, I encountered many women, our neighbors, with whom we usually got along well. Numbers were still above their heads, but this time, 0s were in the minority. For example, the young girl next door, who was about to take her final exams and often came to me for writing tips. Her number was 25. The property manager who worked downstairs, her number was 17. And the deli owner, where we frequently bought things. Her number was 38. Could these numbers represent a woman’s loyalty or infidelity rate? But then, I immediately dismissed that idea. Over the next few days, I was constantly bothered by these inexplicable numbers. I told Chloe, but she just brushed me off with the doctor’s explanation. One day, Chloe had a day off, so we decided to invite her best friend, Maya, over for dinner to thank her properly. Maya agreed when Chloe called her. When she knocked on the door and Chloe went to open it, I was immediately struck by her outfit. Today, she wore denim shorts that showed off her long, fair legs, paired with white high heels. It was a treat for anyone who appreciated great legs. On her upper body, she wore a tight white T-shirt that perfectly accentuated her curves. Chloe had many beautiful friends, but Maya was definitely the most stunning among them. After admiring her beauty, I quickly looked at her head. The number was still there, unchanged, still 46. She entered, put down the fruit and milk she’d bought, greeted Chloe, and then looked at me. “Hey, Writer, how are you doing? Feeling better?” I snapped out of it, nodded, and smiled, “Much better, thanks for asking.” She didn’t say anything more and went to the kitchen to help Chloe. Soon, the fragrant dishes were on the table. To celebrate my recovery, they brought out beer, though they wouldn’t let me drink any since I’d just been discharged. So, the two of them started drinking at the table, glass after glass. I knew Chloe wasn’t good with alcohol. Sure enough, after two bottles of beer, her speech became slurred. She was clearly drunk. Maya, on the other hand, was fine, just a little flushed. A little while later, Chloe completely passed out on the sofa, unconscious. Feeling a bit helpless, I helped her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. I returned to the living room. Maya was sitting on the sofa. Seeing me, she smiled. “Oops, Leo, sorry I got your wife drunk again.” I chuckled, “It’s fine, as long as you two had fun.” Maya stood up then. “Alright, since Chloe’s asleep, I won’t bother you anymore. Especially you, you need to rest.” With that, she walked towards the door. I quickly called out to her, “Wait.” Maya turned back to look at me. “What is it?” I quickly picked up a jacket from the sofa and asked her, “Did you drive here?” Maya replied, “No, I knew I’d be having a few drinks with her today, so I didn’t drive.” I walked towards her. “Good. Don’t drink and drive. You should take a taxi home. You’ve had quite a bit to drink, I’ll walk you out.” Just as I finished speaking, I suddenly noticed the number above Maya’s head changed again. It jumped from 46 directly to 49, increasing by three points.

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I was chosen by a billionaire to be his stand-in for a hefty five-million-dollar salary. I thought my job was just to make appearances when he couldn’t. Who knew his first assignment would be to accompany his wife on their wedding anniversary, and to fulfill her every request? Meanwhile, his stunning secretary kept hinting that she wanted a “special arrangement” with me. I fell deep into the billionaire’s lavish, indulgent life, surrounded by women and luxury, completely unable to pull myself away. Little did I know, he had his own dark agenda… “Alex, you’ve got mail.” My name is Alex. I’m a programmer, 29 years old, and an orphan. Every day, I work my fingers to the bone, grinding away for a meager salary that barely tops five thousand a month. That kind of money? Forget buying a house or a car. It was hard enough just surviving in a major city, and I certainly didn’t have many acquaintances outside of my colleagues. So, who would be writing to me? I ripped open the envelope. Inside, there was only an address and a key. What the heck was this supposed to mean? It couldn’t possibly be some inheritance left to me by a distant relative I’d never heard of, right? I’m not in some cheesy movie! Just as I was pondering this, my phone rang. It was an international number. I immediately hung up. Lately, I’d been getting way too many spam calls; my phone was practically smoking from all the rings. They were all the same old tricks, nothing new or interesting. But before I could even put my phone down, it rang again. Seeing that the caller wouldn’t give up, I answered. “Mr. Alex, please don’t hang up. I’m Mr. Richard’s butler. Because your appearance is remarkably similar to Mr. Richard’s, he’d like to hire you as his stand-in.” “A stand-in?” My jaw dropped. I’d heard of Richard, the billionaire, but only in passing. What he looked like, what he did—I had no clue. “That’s right. Mr. Richard needs to go abroad for six months for medical treatment. During this time, to stabilize stock prices, he requires a stand-in.” “Mr. Richard is willing to pay five million dollars, and all your expenses during this period will be covered by him. You just need to follow Mr. Richard’s instructions.” “Deal! I accept!” Hesitating for even half a second would be an insult to that five million dollars! “Be at the address on the envelope by 6 PM. Some information will be sent to your phone. Tonight is a test for you. If you pass, two million dollars will be transferred to your account as an initial payment.” Looking at the villa key in my hand, a smirk played on my lips. Who knew? My face would actually pay off one day. I spent the entire afternoon scrolling through my phone, memorizing the information the butler had sent. Right on time, I arrived at the address from the letter. I had to admit, standing before that opulent mansion, I was green with envy. Calling it a villa was an understatement; it was a full-blown estate! I pulled out the key and opened the grand gate. As soon as I stepped inside, Brenda, the housekeeper, immediately came forward. “Sir, you’re back. What kind of drink would you like?” As she spoke, she bent down and retrieved a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet, placing them at my feet. When she leaned over, her low-cut maid uniform inevitably gave me a peek. The housekeeper, a woman in her thirties, was stunningly curvy, making me blush. It was my first time being waited on like this, and while it felt strange, it was also pretty amazing. “His usual single malt scotch.” According to the provided information, Richard was a man of immense authority and presence, and he adored his single malt scotch. Brenda nodded and said with a bow, “Madam is still in the bedroom picking out her dress. Today is your wedding anniversary, and Madam has been looking forward to it all day.” Those words made my scalp prickle instantly. What? Madam? Wedding anniversary? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?! Cold sweat immediately drenched my back. The key in my hand suddenly felt incredibly heavy. Tonight was going to be tough. *Clack! Clack!* Just as I was thinking, the sound of high heels echoed from the staircase. I looked up, and my gaze was immediately drawn to a pair of long, shapely legs. Then, a breathtaking woman appeared before me. It was Celeste, Richard’s wife. Seeing her face, I couldn’t help but swallow hard. Beautiful! Seductive! She was utterly mesmerizing, like a darker Angelina Jolie. Those eyes could reel you in! Just one look, and I felt like my soul was being sucked right out of me. No wonder Mr. Richard had to go abroad for treatment; with a beauty like this by your side, even the healthiest man wouldn’t last! The next second, her voice chimed. “It’s rare that you still remember today’s date.” “I could forget anything else, but never today.” I managed a smile, but my forehead was already covered in sweat. A fragrant scent wafted over as Celeste reached out, gently wiping the sweat from my brow. “Look at you, all sweaty. Go wash up quickly.” She turned and instructed Brenda, “Brenda, tell the kitchen dinner will be served in half an hour.” I steadied myself and headed upstairs, found the master bedroom, and rushed into the bathroom, turning on the faucet. I barely had time to strip off my clothes and sink into the tub. Then, the bathroom door creaked open. Celeste walked in. “Honey, let me give you a massage…” Immediately, a pair of soft hands rested on my shoulders, gently kneading them. My heart pounded like a drum. I felt a strange, forbidden thrill, a rush of stolen pleasure. If Richard ever found out, he’d kill me! To avoid giving myself away, I quickly closed my eyes. Just as I was getting comfortable, I suddenly felt those hands become restless. They traced a path downwards, along my body. “I’m all clean. Let’s go eat.” I forced down the rising desire, stopping those mischievous hands. I looked up, meeting Celeste’s glistening eyes head-on. My heart lurched. Again, I feigned Richard’s tone: “I’m starving.” “Where are you starving, honey? Your stomach or…” Her gaze flickered downwards, and I instantly got her meaning. I quickly replied, “My stomach! My stomach is hungry!” Hearing this, Celeste rolled her eyes at me, a pout on her face. “Your clothes are by the door. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Only after she left did I finally breathe a sigh of relief. No, I had to find an excuse to leave tonight. Staying here would definitely lead to trouble! As expected, Celeste had changed into a white evening gown without me noticing. She sat across from me and told Brenda to open a bottle of red wine. “Honey, try the lobster that just arrived from Australia this morning.” As she served me, her cleavage was on full display, a distracting sight. I quickly lowered my head, focusing all my attention on the lobster. “Come, darling, here’s to our happy wedding anniversary.” My tolerance for alcohol wasn’t great, but on a day like this, I absolutely couldn’t expose myself. So, I gritted my teeth and raised my glass. “To you, my love, may you get even more beautiful.” My words made Celeste giggle. Her alluring eyes kept raking over me. “Honey, you’re a little different today.” Damn it! Had she seen through me? My heart hammered. I cursed myself for talking too much; why did I have to add that extra line?! The next second, a hint of melancholy crossed Celeste’s face. “You haven’t been back for over half a year. I thought you wouldn’t come back today either.” She hadn’t noticed? I let out a small sigh of relief. It seemed their relationship wasn’t exactly great either. Otherwise, who would leave such a gorgeous wife alone for over six months? To avoid saying anything else wrong, I remained silent, focusing all my attention on the delicious food on my plate. Celeste kept serving me from across the table. “Honey, eat slowly.” “Here, have another drink.” Before long, the bottle of red wine was empty. All the food on the table had disappeared into my stomach. My low alcohol tolerance quickly caught up to me, and I felt a wave of dizziness. I leaned back in my chair, resting. Celeste, her face flushed, stared at me with eyes full of desire. “Honey, do you know how much I’ve missed you these past six months?” Her scent enveloped me, and under the table, her foot kept brushing against my leg. The fire I had barely managed to suppress instantly flared up again! Combined with the alcohol, my head spun, and I got up, scooped Celeste into my arms, and headed towards the bedroom…

The next morning, I woke up to find Celeste sleeping beside me, and my heart sank. The worst had happened. Not only was my stint as a stand-in probably over, but Richard wouldn’t let me off the hook either. Just as I was getting dressed, planning to slip away unnoticed, my phone rang. It was the butler. For a moment, I was gripped by nerves, unsure how to explain what happened last night. “Hello?” “Mr. Alex, your performance last night was excellent. Mr. Richard is very pleased. The initial payment has already been transferred to your account. You need to go to the company today; the car is waiting for you at the villa entrance.” *Ding!* As soon as I hung up, the bank text message arrived. Two million dollars! I had never seen so much money in my life! This… I slept with his wife, and I *passed* the test? I truly didn’t understand the world of the super-rich. But at least, for now, I didn’t have to worry about retaliation. Celeste was also woken by the phone call. She mumbled, “Honey, who was that?” “The company. Something urgent came up.” She sat up, revealing a generous amount of cleavage, hooked her arms around my neck, and lightly pecked my cheek. “Will you be back tonight?” I nodded, pulling the blanket up to cover her. Not for any other reason, but because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to resist. After a few minutes of sweet nothings, I left the villa. A Rolls-Royce Cullinan was already waiting at the entrance. Upon arriving at the company, I was escorted by a private assistant to a private elevator that took me straight to the top floor. It was a luxurious office, spanning over two thousand square feet. My rented apartment was barely five hundred square feet. Damn capitalists. As soon as I sat down, Chloe, the personal secretary, brought in a cup of Richard’s usual single malt scotch. “Mr. Richard, your drink.” Chloe was a graduate of a prestigious university, with a delicate face and a slender yet curvaceous figure, clearly the result of regular workouts. “Just leave it.” I glanced at her briefly before looking away. I opened my laptop and played some games for a while. Just as it was time for lunch, Chloe walked in carrying an insulated lunch box. “Mr. Richard, this is the nutritious meal I prepared this morning. Please, have a taste.” There was fish, shrimp, and a fragrant bowl of soup. “Thank you. That’s thoughtful of you.” The words barely left my mouth when Chloe burst into tears. “Mr. Richard, have I done something wrong?” I froze, staring at her, utterly bewildered. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Richard. Whatever I did wrong, I’ll fix it immediately. Please don’t fire me. My mother is still in the hospital, and I really need this money…” I mentally sighed, realizing I’d said the wrong thing again. I waved my hand. “You’re excellent. I won’t fire you, don’t worry.” But to my surprise, Chloe directly knelt down. “Mr. Richard, please give me a chance to make amends.” I felt a little helpless, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes. Just as I was wondering how to get rid of this woman, I suddenly felt a pair of hands undoing my belt. My eyes snapped open: “Wait, I don’t need to change my pants!” Chloe, her eyes red, pleaded, “Mr. Richard, please give me this chance.”

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Ever since my wife got pregnant, strange things have been happening around our house. Our bathroom was constantly swarming with spiders. And my wife’s behavior grew increasingly bizarre. She started keeping secrets, her temper flaring up at the slightest provocation. One night, while I was asleep, she *savagely* bit my neck, coming terrifyingly close to severing my artery. Chloe frantically explained it was just hormones, unbalanced by the pregnancy. I stared at the thick black hair covering her legs, not entirely convinced. The next day, she secretly left for her family’s remote estate. I discreetly hired a private investigator, only to discover she’d been hiding something from me for *three whole years!* Deep in the night, an urgent call of nature stirred me awake. Still groggy, I tried to get up, but something fuzzy and round was pressing down on my chest. I couldn’t budge it. I grabbed my phone for light and nearly screamed. All grogginess vanished as I tumbled off the bed onto the floor. Right there on the bed, staring back at me, was a spider the size of a dinner tray. Its eight glowing green eyes were fixed on me, and my heart nearly stopped beating. I scrambled to my feet, desperate to escape the room. But the next second, the world spun, and I blacked out. “David? What’s wrong, David?” Still hazy, I felt someone shaking me. My face drained of color as the memory of that horrifying spider flashed back. “A spider! A giant spider!” “David, what spider? Did you have a nightmare?” Chloe quickly got out of bed, her face etched with worry, gently stroking my cheek. Seeing her kind, beautiful face, I slowly calmed down and immediately recounted what had just happened. “David, you must be stressed about my pregnancy, worrying about me and the baby. It’s just a nightmare.” Her explanation made sense, and I nodded. After all, where in the world would you find a spider the size of a dinner tray? But the dream felt so incredibly real, like I was truly there. Just as I was about to drift back to sleep, I noticed Chloe’s arms were covered in thick, dark hair! Chloe caught my gaze and hastily explained, “David, it’s probably just my hormones, unbalanced because of the pregnancy.” I nodded, though her hormones seemed to be *wildly* out of whack. She clearly needed some extra nutrition. The next day, I bought a live rooster, planning to make her some nourishing chicken soup. But when I took the knife to the bathroom to butcher it, the rooster was *gone*! And the bathroom was thick with spiderwebs, like a scene straight out of a horror movie, or a giant spider’s nest. It felt like spiders were suddenly *everywhere*. First my dreams, now the bathroom. But I kept the house spotless – how could there be so many webs? As I wondered, I noticed a puddle of feathers on the floor, some with skin still attached. But the chicken meat itself had simply vanished. “Was this chicken… eaten by a spider?” I shook my head immediately. Impossible. A spider big enough to kill a rooster would have to be the size of two hands, and there’s no such thing in the world. But where did the chicken meat go? I was about to ask Chloe when I got close enough to smell it: a strong, metallic scent of blood coming from her mouth! A flicker of panic crossed Chloe’s face. She quickly explained, “David, my gums are bleeding, pretty badly. I was just about to get some medication for inflammation.” Ah, that made sense. Pregnancy was hard, women developed all sorts of issues. My heart went out to her, and my worries about the chicken completely vanished. The vanished chicken remained an unsolved mystery. I cleaned the bathroom’s spiderwebs thoroughly, but found no spiders. Where were these webs even coming from? It wasn’t just the bathroom. Lately, there were webs on the bed, the couch, even in the kitchen – and *lots* of them. This had never happened before. It felt like ever since Chloe got pregnant, one strange thing after another kept happening. That night, Chloe stared at me, her eyes unblinking, swallowing constantly. “David,” she purred, “you smell so good. I just want to devour you.” I thought she was trying to be intimate, so I bit back my urge and said, “Sweetheart, we’re in a delicate stage right now. What if we hurt the baby? It could lead to a miscarriage, and we don’t want that—AHH!!!” The words were barely out of my mouth when a searing pain shot through my neck. Chloe was sinking her teeth deep into my neck, a monstrous growl rumbling from her throat. I cried out in agony, scrambling away from Chloe and clamping my hand over my neck. I flipped on the light and gasped in horror – my neck was bleeding, and she had nearly bitten a chunk of flesh right out of it!

Chloe scrambled out of bed, her face pale with terror as she saw my bleeding neck. Tears streamed down her face. “I’m so sorry, David! I don’t know why… I just felt so drawn to your body…” Seeing her so distraught and remorseful, I sighed deeply, unable to blame her. It had to be those pregnancy hormones, throwing everything out of whack. I comforted her for a moment, then quickly stopped the bleeding as best I could before rushing to the emergency room. The wound treatment took forever, and I must have drifted off to sleep at some point. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. A surge of panic hit me. I hadn’t been home all night! Chloe must be frantic with worry! I quickly grabbed my phone to call her, but just as I did, I saw a message from Chloe: “David, I’ve gone back to my family’s estate to rest during the pregnancy. Please, don’t come looking for me until after the baby is born.” Apparently, Chloe felt her emotions were too unstable for the pregnancy, so she called her mother for help. Her mom suggested she return home to recuperate. My blood ran cold. Most rural houses are built to face the sun, but my mother-in-law’s place was nestled deep in the shadows, and its structure was incredibly peculiar. The house was perpetually damp, dark, and sunless. Living there long-term would make anyone sick, let alone a pregnant woman! It was absolutely *not* a good place for Chloe to rest. I was about to call and urge her to reconsider when my mother-in-law called *me*. “David, dear,” she said, “I haven’t been feeling well lately, a bit overwhelmed. Could you possibly come stay and help care for Chloe for a while?” I first asked about her health, then suggested bringing Chloe back home. But Martha insisted, “David, don’t you worry. I had a carpenter specially renovate a room – it’s airy, sunny, and absolutely perfect!” After much hesitation, I agreed. Two and a half hours later, I arrived at Martha’s place. Martha greeted me with a warm, almost *too* warm, welcome. To be honest, she always unnerved me. She just had this unsettling, eerie vibe. Her face was chalk-white, as if dusted with flour, her eyes were unnaturally dark, and her nails were long and sharp. Honestly, she looked like something out of a gothic horror film. Chloe heard the commotion and rushed out, her eyes wide with shock when she saw me. “David, I told you *not* to come!” I told her exactly what Martha had said. Chloe’s emotions flared. She whirled on her mother, furious. “Mom! How *could* you? Are you trying to kill him?!” Martha’s voice softened, almost pleading. “Chloe, I’m doing this for your own good. If you want a safe delivery, you *need* him.” Their exchange sent a chill down my spine. A dark premonition washed over me. “Chloe, what do you mean, ‘kill me’? What are you two talking about?” Chloe’s face crumpled, a flicker of panic in her eyes. She quickly explained, “I was afraid the same thing would happen again… What if I bit you to death…” Her words made my neck throb, but I didn’t think much of it. She hadn’t meant it, after all. I sighed in relief and told her not to worry. Chloe looked like she wanted to say more, but under Martha’s stern gaze, she finally lowered her head. Once Martha had left, Chloe pulled me aside, her voice urgent and serious. “David, you *have* to leave! Right now!” I thought she was still feeling guilty about the night before, so I held her gently. “Sweetheart, don’t worry, I—” “It’s not that!” Chloe cut me off. A look of deep torment crossed her face. Finally, she met my eyes, her voice sharp and resolute. “I can’t explain. But if you don’t leave, we’re getting a divorce!” The word ‘divorce’ hit me like a lightning bolt. I never imagined she’d use that to force me away! Why on earth would she do that? I couldn’t shake the feeling Chloe was hiding something big, and her recent behavior had been undeniably strange, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was off. And Martha… she was increasingly unsettling, always looking at me with a calculating gleam in her eyes. Facing Chloe’s stubborn expression, I finally nodded, agreeing to leave. I immediately drove away. But just as I reached the village exit, a spider, twice the size of a dinner tray, suddenly blocked the road. Its eight blood-red eyes were fixed on me, unblinking. I slammed on the brakes, terrified. By the time I wrestled the car under control, the spider had vanished without a trace. I frantically scanned my surroundings, but there was no sign of it. Was I… just too stressed? First the nightmares about spiders, now hallucinations?

My mind reeled, filled with doubt and fear. My gut screamed that something much deeper was going on – and it definitely involved Chloe. So, I decided to hire a private investigator to discreetly follow Chloe and Martha. Barely half a day later, the private investigator sent me a video. The moment I clicked play, my blood ran cold, freezing in my veins! On screen, a disheveled woman was tearing into a live chicken, devouring it raw like a wild animal. My blood ran cold. The face was gentle, beautiful… it was my wife, Chloe! My sweet, gentle Chloe! She was eating with terrifying relish, sucking and slurping like she was drinking juice. In moments, the entire chicken was gone, leaving only a pile of feathers. My face was ashen, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. This *couldn’t* be just pregnancy hormones. What pregnant woman would transform into a ravenous, bloodthirsty monster? That speed of consumption was utterly inhuman! Suddenly, I remembered the chicken that had vanished days ago. I’d only found feathers then. Could it be… could Chloe have eaten *that* chicken raw, just like this? My phone buzzed again. It was the second video from him. When I saw what was on screen, I nearly dropped my phone, my heart pounding. The second video showed: A hunched figure was slowly approaching a plow cow. But the horror! It wasn’t a human head she wore, but a massive, fuzzy spider’s head! Its barbed front limbs wrapped around the cow’s neck, and its gaping maw bit down with sickening force. The sturdy cow collapsed instantly, frothing at the mouth. Then, the creature suddenly *smiled*. Its monstrous head began to melt, slowly shifting into a familiar human face – Martha, my mother-in-law! Martha seemed to notice something, and her eyes glared intensely at the screen. “David! You goddamn ruined me!” The video cut out with the detective’s terrified scream. I stared at the black screen, trembling uncontrollably, cold sweat slicking my skin. My entire world had just shattered into a million pieces. I couldn’t believe it. Martha… was a spider demon! Which meant Chloe was too. The night before last, when she bit my neck and said she wanted to ‘eat me,’ she wasn’t flirting – female spiders devour their mates after conception. It’s an instinct ingrained in their very genes! She actually *wanted* to eat me! My hands shaking, I reached for my phone to call the police, but then a chilling breath brushed against my neck. “My dear son-in-law…” a chilling whisper slithered into my ear. “Who are we calling, hmm?” I slowly turned my head. Hovering right behind me was a black widow spider, twice the size of a dinner tray. Its mandibles dripped with viscous fluid. And that voice… it was undeniably… “M-Martha?” My vision swam, and I passed out cold. When I woke, I was encased in a sticky cocoon, lying in a damp, web-filled cavern. Two enormous black widow spiders loomed before me. One, slightly smaller, had eight glowing green eyes – the very same spider that had been on our marital bed that terrifying night! It scuttled towards me, its segmented legs clicking against the ground. “C-Chloe?” I choked out, my voice trembling. The spider froze. All eight eyes constricted, revealing a flash of agony and struggle. I stared at the black widow, trembling violently, cold sweat drenching my back. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed that the woman I’d shared a bed with for three years was such a massive spider demon. She had hidden her true nature so incredibly well. Female spiders, after conceiving, instinctively devour their mates. It’s their very nature. Now, wrapped tightly in sticky silk, imprisoned in this dark cavern, my heart hammered. Was she… was she going to eat me *right now*?

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The day the zombie apocalypse hit, our school was rehearsing a stage play. Brittany, the queen bee who played the elf, got healing powers. The background extra, who played a tree, became invisible to zombies. Liam, my childhood sweetheart playing the knight, could skewer zombies like shish kebabs with his long sword. … They all stared at me, a makeup artist, holding nothing but ordinary makeup brushes. So, I was abandoned. Later, when our paths crossed again, their team of powered individuals watched me get swallowed by a zombie horde, each one cracking sarcastic jokes. But I used my makeup brushes to turn zombies into my own superpowered army, instantly turning the tide. You guys are gods, but I’m the one who *makes* gods. **1.** When bad luck strikes, even cleaning up makeup backstage can get you attacked by a zombie. I was tackled onto the dressing table, screaming for help, my voice raw. But the stage, which had been so noisy just moments before, was now as silent as a tomb. My will to survive finally kicked in. I cried and fought, luckily managing to wrap a prop chain around its mouth. My hands shook like a leaf as I pulled back the curtain, ready to bolt, only to see a group of perfectly made-up people staring silently in my direction. When they saw it was me, they looked genuinely surprised. “Rose, you can’t even lift a water cooler bottle, and you beat a zombie?” Brittany, the queen bee, playfully punched her updo, a smirk playing on her lips. “Looks like I lost that bet again. The zombies had like, a ninety-nine percent chance of winning. How did they lose? My luck is just the worst, seriously.” Alex, the student body president, chuckled and chimed in, “A bet’s a bet. For the next two days, you’re my shadow, ensuring my safety when I’m fighting zombies.” “Ugh! Lucky you! I’m the most valuable healer now, everyone’s begging for my help.” My heart instantly sank. I’d thought everyone was dead. After all, when the zombies first broke out, the screams and wails on stage were non-stop. I’d even felt guilty for surviving alone. But they had just stood by, using my life as a damn bet! “You were all here? So, you intentionally left me to die? Why?” Everyone stared at me in silence, as if my question was utterly ridiculous. Brittany gave a light laugh. “If we didn’t push you, you wouldn’t have known you could defeat a zombie, right? So, what’s your power, Rose?” I was shocked and confused, instinctively retorting, “What power?” “No way?” She gasped. “You only beat that zombie because you got lucky?” Seeing me still standing there dumbfounded, her smile widened, becoming even more radiant. “Alright, I’ll be merciful and show you.” She walked over to a classmate with a scraped arm, gently placing her hands on the wound. The injury healed at a visible rate, then vanished without a trace! The classmate touched his smooth arm, his voice filled with awe. “Brittany’s power is healing. She’s the core member of our little team now!” I stood there, stunned, watching them show off their various abilities. The strongman classmate who played the bouncer threw zombies hundreds of feet away. The classmate who played a stone wall was impervious to blades. Alex, the student body president playing the king, just gave orders, and all the background extras sacrificed themselves to save him… Their golden auras were so blinding I could barely keep my eyes open. “We figured it out. Everyone got powers based on the roles they played in the drama club production.” “This proves we’re the chosen saviors, picked by fate!” Finally, everyone turned to look at the makeup brushes in my hand. After an eerie silence, they burst into laughter, sharing a knowing glance, their voices dripping with mockery. “Rose, you seriously plan to fight zombies with *that*? Aren’t you just going to be dead weight?” “Makeup brushes aren’t bad, though. You can poke zombies’ eyes with them, then they won’t see you!” “Brittany won’t be able to save anyone else if she’s too busy saving just you. How’s she supposed to be useful?” “Why don’t you volunteer to stay behind and cover our retreat? At least you’d be somewhat useful then!” **2.** My face went ghostly pale. I looked out the window at the dense swarm of zombies, feeling like I’d fallen into an ice pit. How could a normal person like me cover the retreat for a group of superpowered individuals? That was a death sentence. I looked at Liam with pleading eyes. We’d been childhood sweethearts for twenty years. My parents had even saved his entire family from a house fire. He wouldn’t just leave me to die. Sure enough, his brows softened, and he started to plead on my behalf. “Maybe Rose’s power just manifested later. Let’s give her a chance, okay? I can’t leave her here to die.” Someone immediately shot back, “Then *you* stay behind and protect her! But don’t forget, even if you can pierce three zombies with one sword, you can’t defeat the horde outside. Are you really going to give up your life for a useless person?” “Oh my god, seriously! The apocalypse is the worst with dead weight and overly soft heroes. You don’t fear a godly opponent, you fear a teammate who’s a total liability.” “What if you accidentally stab Rose while fighting a zombie? That would be hilarious.” Alex, the student body president, was always the peacemaker. “Let’s not call anyone useless. We’re all classmates. Liam’s right, what if Rose’s power is just late to awaken?” I looked at him gratefully, then heard him continue, “So, why don’t you go outside and find a zombie right now to trigger your potential? Or you can stay here in the school, there might still be a glimmer of hope.” He smiled sweetly at me. But a shiver ran down my spine. Only then did I realize that Alex had always been this kind of two-faced person during my days of being excluded by classmates. How could I forget? How could I forget that this very group of people had just tried to kill me! I grabbed Liam’s hand, clutching it like my only lifeline. “Liam, save me! Don’t leave me alone!” But Brittany stretched out her arms to Liam. “Liam, we need your combat power. Don’t be too soft-hearted in the apocalypse, okay? Do you want to see me exhaust myself trying to save her?” Liam didn’t let go. The two sides were at a standstill. The zombies outside grew more agitated. Someone began to pull out their weapon, pointing it at us. “Stop acting like a hero! Either stay or go, don’t waste our time here!” “Exactly! We don’t *need* you! To be honest, with dead weight like her, your combat power is even worse than mine.” “Alex, let’s go! If we drag this out any longer, all the zombies in the school will surround us!” Liam was torn, still trying to explain for me. “Rose is really good at long-distance running. She definitely won’t slow us down.” “So, you’re saying she’ll abandon us and run for her life in a crisis? We absolutely cannot let that kind of ungrateful wretch come with us!” “No, I mean…” Before he could finish, someone unexpectedly flung open the auditorium doors. The zombies, seeing a group of living people, their eyes glowing green, surged in like a tide. Everyone unleashed their powers to fight them off. In the chaos, Alex shouted, “Charge!” Everyone bolted outside. Someone shoved me, and by the time I reacted, I was behind everyone else. Liam turned back to look at me, his pupils shrinking. “Rose!” He wanted to save me, but Brittany suddenly shrieked, “Liam! Help me! The zombies are grabbing me!” Even though everyone else ran towards Brittany after hearing her cry for help, Liam hesitated. He looked at me, then at Brittany. My heart clenched instantly. I struggled, running towards him. “Liam! Save me!” Just as I was about to grab his hand, he pulled it back. “Rose, I owe you. I’ll repay you in the next life!” Then, he turned his back and ran towards Brittany without a second glance. **3.** I stood there stunned, unable to believe he would do that. Twenty years of childhood friendship, plus saving his family’s lives from a fire… and he said he’d repay me in the *next* life? If he wouldn’t save me in *this* life, what was he going to repay me with in the next?! I was trembling with rage. But the immediate priority was to get away from these zombies. Though most of them had been drawn away by the others, a few stragglers were still around. Seeing me, they shrieked and lunged. I picked up a spear from the ground, trying to overcome my fear, and thrust it into their chest. *Splat—* The zombie’s head exploded with a single blow. Its rotting body toppled onto me, and I finally reacted, screaming and scrambling backward. “Can you stand up?” A gloomy guy looked down at me, his voice hoarse. It took me a while to remember he was a classmate who always lurked in the corner of the classroom. I think his name was Caleb. Caleb, like me, was an outcast. We were also the only two people who weren’t in the drama club production. The difference was, I was disliked by a lot of girls for being too close to the popular Liam. He, on the other hand, was cold and arrogant, offended a lot of people by being a loner, and was subjected to silent treatment. “Th-thanks…” He extended a hand and helped me up. “I was worried these guys would use me as a human shield, so I pretended to be dead and observed them. Heh, just as I thought…” “Zombies aren’t human. Stabbing their hearts does nothing. You have to go for the head, understand?” “Got it! Got it!” I nodded repeatedly. He turned and started disposing of the bodies. I cautiously ventured, “Um… Caleb, are we, like, allies now?” After a few minutes, he just gave a faint “Hmm.” I sighed in relief and eagerly started helping him. But when I knelt down to look, I nearly fainted from fright. Caleb was collecting zombie blood in a glass bottle! “What are you collecting that for?” My voice trembled. Caleb glanced at me, calmly saying, “To mask our scent. You didn’t see the situation backstage earlier, but zombies use their noses to detect humans, not just their eyes.” “If we coat ourselves in their blood, we can fool them and get out safely.” I see. Despite the disgust, the thought that it was for survival pushed down my urge to vomit. After collecting the zombie blood, I took out my portable makeup brushes and started applying it to Caleb. The fishy smell of blood and decay went straight to my head. I painted and gagged. Caleb was a tough cookie, though; he didn’t even change his expression. If his eyelashes weren’t subtly trembling, I would’ve thought the person in front of me was already dead. “Alright, later you can just smear some zombie blood on yourself.” Caleb opened his eyes, and I was shocked to see his pupils had turned white! “Caleb, what’s wrong with your eyes?” I hadn’t even put colored contacts on him! A thought flashed through my mind. I snatched the spear from Caleb’s hand and leaped away. The next second, Caleb lunged at me, trying to bite. He had turned into a zombie! Cold sweat poured down me. I cursed the heavens for being so unfair. Not only did I not have a power, but my freshly-made ally turned into a zombie! The problem was, Caleb hadn’t even said he was injured! Was this just a conspiracy to keep me from living?! Caleb didn’t give me a chance to react and lunged again. I dodged while aiming the spear at his head. But killing someone sounds easy; doing it is a whole different beast. Aside from the blood all over his face, Caleb looked exactly like a human. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a prop water tank on the stage. A lightbulb went off. I jogged, luring Caleb towards it. As he lunged, I used all my strength to tackle him down and hold him underwater. *Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle—* Caleb was submerged, the blood he’d just had on his face swirling in the water. He was still struggling. I hardened my heart and pressed down harder. Caleb slowly stopped moving. I finally let out a breath, collapsing weakly to the side, about to lament my unfair fate. Unexpectedly, Caleb suddenly convulsed, then gripped the edge of the water tank and climbed out. **4.**

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I possess the Sacred Blood, and the blood within me can heal any ailment. In my previous life, it was only after I cured the paralyzed legs of a billionaire CEO that I discovered the Mitchell Family had decreed that anyone who healed Ethan Mitchell would become the lady of their household. Ethan Mitchell was compelled to marry me. Fiona Johnson, who had risked her life to gather the Himalayan Snow Lotus for him, was so stunned by the news that she fell off a cliff and disappeared. A year later, Ethan found Fiona’s frozen body and forced me to cut my wrists to save her. “If only I had waited for Fiona to return with the Snow Lotus and heal me, we could have grown old together. You killed her!” “Lydia Smith, didn’t you claim your blood is a miracle cure? Then bring Fiona back to life!” I pleaded with him tearfully. “Fiona has been dead for a year. I can heal diseases, but I can’t bring the dead back to life.” But Ethan refused to listen to my explanation and watched as I bled to death. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day the Mitchell Family asked me to treat Ethan. Seeing Ethan sitting in his wheelchair with a gloomy expression, I smiled faintly. “Mr. Mitchell, these legs are beyond repair; no one can heal them.” ⋯⋯   Hearing my words, Ethan slowly raised his head to look at me, his eyes burning with growing anger. “Get out of here, you fraud!” I raised an eyebrow slightly and turned to Mrs. Mitchell beside me. “Mrs. Mitchell, if the Smith Family says an ailment is incurable, then it truly is. You might want to consider having another child while you’re still young.” As soon as I finished speaking, the teacup in Ethan’s hand hurled directly at me. I moved aside to dodge it. With a crash, the expensive teacup shattered on the floor. Mrs. Mitchell, startled, quickly apologized to me. “Miss Smith, I’m sorry. I apologize on Ethan’s behalf. It’s just his condition…” I brushed it off nonchalantly. “I understand. It’s normal for a crippled and impotent man to have a warped mind.” Seeing Ethan tremble with anger, I turned and left the Mitchell Family. Mrs. Mitchell chased after me, pleading softly. “Miss Smith, is there really no way? I’ve heard the Smith Family has a secret cure for all ailments. If you can heal Ethan’s legs, the Mitchell Family will fulfill any request you have.” But it wasn’t that he couldn’t be cured; it was that I wouldn’t cure him. In my last life, Ethan blamed me for Fiona’s death, stubbornly believing that if Fiona had brought back the Snow Lotus, it would have healed his legs. Had he thought calmly, he would have realized the Snow Lotus was merely a supplement. Its supposed miraculous properties were nothing but exaggerated tales. Yet, when he discovered I used my blood to heal his legs, he watched me die, hoping to resurrect Fiona. Before I died, I overheard the servants of the Mitchell Family talking.

It turned out Fiona didn’t fall off the cliff because of the Snow Lotus. She was discovered by the wife of her wealthy patron when she tried to marry into the Mitchell Family and was thrown off the cliff. This time, I won’t get involved in their entanglements. I wish them a long and happy life together. “Mr. Mitchell, these legs, I can’t help.” Ethan came out and heard my words, his deep voice filled with anger. “Mom, Fiona has already flown to the Rocky Mountains. Once she brings back the Himalayan Snow Lotus, my legs will definitely be healed.” “My affairs don’t concern others.” Mrs. Mitchell sighed deeply. “The Himalayan Snow Lotus only helps your legs recover. To stand again, it’s far from enough. The Smith Family is your last hope…” Ethan remained stubborn. “I said, Fiona can heal me.” I gave Ethan a long look and bid farewell to Mrs. Mitchell as I left. Just as I walked out of the Mitchell Family’s gate, a black business car stopped in front of me. A woman got out and knelt before me. “Miss Smith, please save my son…”   It turned out that a year ago, the accident injured not only Ethan Mitchell but also his arch-enemy, Nolan Johnson of the Johnson Family. After that car accident, Nolan became a vegetative state. Having endured a painful past life, I wouldn’t casually use my blood to save people again, so I refused Mrs. Johnson’s request. Mrs. Johnson didn’t press further and left in tears. A week later, I received an invitation to a Mitchell Family banquet. Fiona had returned with the Himalayan Snow Lotus. Mrs. Mitchell feared there might be issues with Fiona’s medicine and asked me to attend and check it. At the banquet, Fiona stayed close to Ethan. Mrs. Mitchell held my hand, her face full of worry. “I’m not afraid that Fiona’s medicine won’t work. I’m just worried that Ethan will be disappointed again and won’t be able to handle the blow.” “We’ve tried everything in the past year. I’ve watched the hope in Ethan’s eyes fade away bit by bit. As a mother, I really have no choice…” Before I could offer comfort, Fiona pushed Ethan over. “Aunt, don’t worry. I can definitely help Ethan stand up. I almost died in the Rocky Mountains for this Himalayan Snow Lotus.” Ethan held Fiona’s hand, looking deeply moved. “Fiona, when I stand up, I’ll throw you a grand wedding.” “Ethan, I believe in you.” Fiona turned to look at me, her smile ambiguous.

“I’m not like those fraudulent doctors. I’m confident I can heal Ethan’s legs.” As soon as she finished speaking, the faces of the renowned doctors who had treated Ethan’s legs turned sour. “Miss Johnson, you speak boldly. Are you sure you can heal Mr. Mitchell’s legs?” “You’re not even a medical professional, yet you dare to question our expertise?” “Even Miss Smith from the medical family Smith Family said Mr. Mitchell’s legs couldn’t be healed. I don’t believe a young girl like you has that ability!” Although Ethan felt Fiona spoke rashly, he still defended her. “I believe Fiona can heal me!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Fiona thought I was mocking her. She gritted her teeth in anger but forced a smile. “Miss Smith, I heard you’re the most outstanding doctor of your generation in the Smith Family. But you refused the Mitchell Family and then the Johnson Family. It’s hard not to suspect you can’t actually treat illnesses.” I smiled slightly. “Then I’m very much looking forward to the day Miss Johnson makes Mr. Mitchell stand.” Seeing me laugh instead of getting angry, Fiona bit her lip. “Are you upset I stole your thunder? I know Aunt favors you and wants you to marry Ethan. But now, only I can heal Ethan’s legs.” Sitting in the wheelchair, Ethan sneered. “Lydia Smith, even if you could heal me, I wouldn’t agree to marry you. Moreover, you’re just a fraud. When my mom introduced you, I thought you were someone impressive, but it seems you’re just so-so.” “Let me tell you, the only person I love is Fiona, and I will marry no one but her.” “No matter how many times you appear before me, I won’t spare you a glance.” Watching them act in sync, I just felt annoyed. “Mrs. Mitchell invited me to check Miss Johnson’s medicine. Since Mr. Mitchell trusts Miss Johnson so much, I won’t meddle.” After saying this, I wanted to leave, but Fiona blocked my way. “Lydia Smith, what do you mean by that?” I frowned. “Exactly what I said. If you don’t understand, look it up in a dictionary!” Fiona snorted coldly. “Lydia Smith, do you dare to bet with me? Bet on who can heal Ethan’s legs. The loser must kneel and admit defeat and never set foot in New York City again!” I paused, turned to her. “I’ll bet with you, but I won’t treat Ethan Mitchell. I’ll treat Nolan Johnson!”

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My stepbrother and I are the main characters in a step-siblings romance novel. After realizing this, I avoided him like the plague to stop these inappropriate feelings. However, he pinned me against the kitchen counter, biting my neck, and growled, “You can only love me.” The day Jack brought his girlfriend home, I had a ridiculous dream. In the dream, I was the female lead in a step-siblings romance novel, and my stepbrother Jack was the male lead. Jack’s girlfriend, Emily, was the antagonist in this story. In the book, Jack had liked me since childhood, and a strong sense of guilt haunted him throughout his adolescence. He had sneaked into my room countless times to kiss the corner of my mouth while I was asleep, and had woken up sweating profusely in the middle of the night, calling out my name. To let go of these abnormal feelings, Jack agreed to date Emily, who had a crush on him for six years. At this point in the story, I woke up from my dream. Frightened by the absurd scenes in my dream, it took me a while to calm down. Jack liking me? How could that be possible? I recalled Jack’s cold attitude towards me in daily life and shook my head slightly. But even so, I still felt uncomfortable. When I was young and naive, I did have a crush on Jack. I remember being encouraged by my best friend to knock on his door late at night, only to see the impatience and disgust in his eyes when he saw me. So, those secrets were gradually buried deep in my heart, rotting away.

The next day, when I went downstairs, Jack and Emily were sitting on the couch. Jack had his head slightly lowered, his long fingers playing with Emily’s bracelet. Emily greeted me enthusiastically, and I noticed how beautiful and charming she was. As my gaze shifted to her lips, I was slightly taken aback. The girl’s red lips were slightly swollen, making it easy to guess what they had been doing. I hurriedly tried to look away, but accidentally met Jack’s cold gaze. “Jack,” I forced a natural smile. Jack didn’t respond. Seeing this, Emily gave me an awkward smile and playfully pinched Jack’s arm. As I left the house, I thought to myself, it really was just a ridiculous dream after all. When I returned home that evening, Jack wasn’t back yet. I went to the kitchen and made a simple dinner for myself. While washing the dishes after eating, I heard the sound of the door opening. Jack had entered the kitchen at some point. I was slightly startled and asked, “Jack, do you want something to eat?” Jack didn’t answer me, he just walked up to me. That’s when I noticed his beautiful and delicate face had an unusual redness to it. He was drunk. I quietly took a step back and asked him softly, “Jack, did you have a fight with Emily?” Jack stubbornly took another step forward and forcefully grabbed my chin. I was forced to look into his eyes, and I realized his gaze was incredibly cold: “Jack?” “Don’t call me that.” Jack’s long fingers slowly caressed my cheek, “Are we even related by blood?” I froze on the spot. Seeing this, Jack let out a mocking laugh and released his hand, then asked with a smile, “What kind of sister would harbor such unspeakable thoughts for her brother?” I closed my eyes, suppressing the bitterness welling up inside. When I opened my eyes again, there was only calmness in my gaze: “But Jack, I don’t like you anymore.” “Liking you was too painful.” “So Jack, whether that dream was real or not, I don’t want to like you anymore.” Hearing what I said, Jack, who was about to turn away, paused slightly, but he didn’t respond to me.

That night, I had another dream. In the dream, Jack pinned me against the kitchen counter and kissed the corner of my mouth passionately. The kitchen door was wide open, and I could faintly hear our parents talking in the living room. I struggled, trying to get Jack to let go of me, but he lowered his voice and asked, “You don’t like me anymore? Hm?” “Jack, you already have Emily,” I said in the dream. Jack bit my neck without a care, his voice husky as he said, “I only want you.” I woke up from the dream once again, the stinging sensation of the bite on my neck still lingering. It was too strange. The dreams I’ve had these past two days were too strange. Could it be that Jack really liked me? I remembered the photos of me that Jack had secretly taken in the dream I had the other night. If the dream was real, would those photos be in Jack’s album? I picked up my phone and checked the time – 2 AM. Throwing on some clothes, I still went to Jack’s door. When Jack sleeps, he usually leaves his phone on the desk, quite far from his bed. If his room door wasn’t closed, I could just sneak in, take the phone, check it, and put it back quietly. If the door was closed, I’d give up for now and find another way to check his album later. But what I didn’t expect was that the doorknob turned easily without a sound. Jack’s room had a pleasant scent, the same as the one he carried. But ever since Jack found out I liked him, it had been a long time since I’d smelled this scent. I quietly walked to the desk, and sure enough, the phone was right there. Just as my hand touched the phone, a cold voice came from behind me: “What are you doing?” I trembled slightly in fright and immediately turned around: “Jack…” Jack was standing right behind me, just a step away. He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly reached out to touch the corner of my eye: “Why are you crying?” “I’m not crying.” Jack didn’t say anything, but his touch became rougher, his calloused fingertips rubbing my eye corner painfully. For some reason, I felt that Jack was very dangerous right now. “Let me guess what you’re doing?” Jack’s cool hand slowly slid down to my neck, his voice husky, “Were you trying to sneak a look at my phone?” Seeing that I didn’t answer, Jack let out a mocking laugh and picked up the phone himself, holding it in front of me. He unlocked it with his fingerprint: “What do you want to see?” “SnapChat, text messages, or…” Jack paused slightly here, his deep gaze fixed on me, “my photo album?” My eyelashes fluttered. Jack’s expression became even more dangerous. Just as I was about to explain, Jack suddenly grabbed my wrist and placed the phone in my palm, opening the main interface of the photo album. I couldn’t help but look down at my hand. The album was visibly filled with page after page of intimate photos of him and Emily. My hand holding the phone trembled slightly. Jack took the phone from my hand and stepped back, his voice turning cold: “Aren’t you leaving?” I didn’t leave, just stood there firmly and said word by word: “Are you serious about Emily?” Jack didn’t answer, but the usually cold person seemed to think of something, and a hint of tenderness and deep affection rippled in his eyes. His gaze now was identical to how he looked at me in the dream. My stepbrother and I are the main characters in a step-siblings romance novel. After realizing this, I avoided him like the plague to stop these inappropriate feelings. However, he pinned me against the kitchen counter, biting my neck, and growled, “You can only love me.”

Jack could only love me. For some reason, this thought suddenly popped into my head. That night, I couldn’t sleep at all. The desire to find the photos Jack had taken in my dream grew stronger. The next day, I bumped into Jack as I was leaving. Unusually, I didn’t greet him, and Jack didn’t say anything either. We tacitly acted as if nothing had happened the night before, calmly treating each other like strangers. What I didn’t know was that the moment I left, Jack’s eyes instantly darkened, all traces of his previous calmness gone. As a senior, I didn’t really have many classes, but staying in the same space as Jack made me even more uncomfortable. Jack and I didn’t always have such a strained relationship; at first, he was just a bit cold towards me. It wasn’t until the night before college registration five years ago, when I knocked on Jack’s door, that things changed. At that time, my feelings for Jack were at their strongest. Jack’s bangs were slightly damp, and his delicate features showed a hint of impatience. I lowered my head, then mustered up the courage to speak: “I like you, Jack.” Those few seconds felt like centuries. I didn’t dare to look up at Jack’s expression, but I saw his pale, slender hand hanging by his pants suddenly clench, veins popping out. After several seconds, Jack’s icy voice finally sounded above my head: “Lily, I’m your brother.” “I know, but we’re not blood-related…” “Look up,” Jack interrupted me. I obediently looked up at him. Jack stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly grabbed my chin, his voice ice-cold: “You like me?” I nodded slightly. Jack smiled: “You want to be with me?” I hesitantly nodded. Jack chuckled, his voice mocking: “Are you worthy?” Those three words, “Are you worthy?”, became like a curse. Later, every time I saw Jack, these words would flood my mind, tormenting me. From that day on, Jack’s attitude towards me changed drastically, becoming cold and dismissive. After that day, I didn’t go home for about two weeks straight. Until I had to return home to get a USB drive. To avoid running into Jack, I deliberately chose a time when he usually wouldn’t be home, planning to grab the USB and leave. But I didn’t expect that as soon as I opened the door, I’d be pulled into an embrace that smelled of alcohol and faint mint. Jack’s usually cold voice now seemed to carry a hint of grievance: “Where have you been?” “What’s it to you?” “How is it not my business?” he said, half-pushing, half-carrying me towards the living room. After struggling in vain, I was brought along with him as we fell onto the living room couch: “Jack, what exactly do you want?” No one answered me. I looked up and realized that Jack had already closed his eyes. He looked heavily drunk, his face flushed, and his usually neat suit now wrinkled.

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Dr. Alex Reed turned, his face flushed a deep crimson, and he looked at me, a soft plea in his eyes: “I’m not… quite sure how to use this… Is this right? Could you… could you help me with it?” A smirk played on my lips, my eyes darkening. My voice came out a low rasp, “Didn’t realize you were so… *adventurous*, Dr. Reed.” I was inspecting my bar as usual when I spotted a man at the counter, completely wasted. I sighed. I walked up to him, grabbing his collar, feeling a surge of irritation. “Why are *you* always here, getting hammered?” But then I actually looked at him, and my grip loosened. I swallowed, feeling a pang of apology. “My bad. I totally mistook you for someone else. Hi, I’m Noah Hayes, the owner of this bar.” The man squinted at me, his voice soft and slurred. “Hi. I’m Alex Reed.” *Ding-dong.* Alex’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered it, swaying precariously, then stumbled out. I picked up the business card he’d dropped on the floor. The bartender came out from the back, looking a little troubled when he saw me. “Mr. Hayes, that customer… he didn’t pay his tab.” I just brushed a speck of dust from the card, a strange glint in my eyes. “Put Dr. Reed’s tab on my account.” I got a call and rushed to the hospital. My heart sank when I saw my father lying in the hospital bed. I stayed there all night. In the morning, the doctor who came to check on my father arrived. I stood up, and my gaze shot up, landing on a familiar face. I was surprised, but also a little pleased. It was the man I’d met last night. Dr. Reed looked at me, explaining the situation. “Dr. Miller, your father’s attending physician, has been transferred. I’m Dr. Reed, and I’ll be taking over his care now.” I looked at the man before me, now dressed in a crisp white coat, which gave him a cool, detached aura. I nodded to Dr. Reed. “Then I’ll be relying on you, Dr. Reed. But you look a little familiar. I think I saw you at a bar last night. Were you there, Dr. Reed?”

Dr. Reed paused for a beat, then shook his head. I yawned, said goodbye to Dr. Reed, and headed home to sleep. I was soaking in the tub, twirling Dr. Reed’s business card between my fingers. The photo on it, a younger version of him in what looked like a prep school uniform, flashed a confident, slightly mischievous smile right at the camera. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alex. Reed.” The next morning, I bought breakfast and headed to the hospital. I ran into Dr. Reed on the way, so I walked up to him and offered him the food. He was a bit distant with me, but I didn’t give up, pestering him every day. He always maintained a cold, indifferent attitude. One day, I bought breakfast again, looking for Dr. Reed. I ran into Dr. Miller instead. Dr. Miller smiled. “Looking for Alex again, huh? Alex isn’t on duty today. He should be resting at home.” I asked Dr. Miller for Dr. Reed’s home address. I reached an old, rundown apartment building, the narrow street reeking of… everything. I frowned, pinching my nose slightly. I knocked on Dr. Reed’s door for what felt like ages, but no one answered. So I just… kicked it in. Inside, I found him lying on a small, worn cot, covered in bruises and cuts. I had no choice but to carry Alex back to my place and call a private doctor. Seeing him so battered, a wave of pain washed over me. I went out to the balcony to clear my head. The weak figure on my bed slowly opened his eyes. I looked at him. “I’m awake?” Alex looked at me, his voice hoarse. “Where is this? How did I get here?” I sighed dramatically. “This is my place. I carried you here. Seriously, you’re so damn light. I’m not short, but picking you up felt like nothing. Like I barely used any strength at all.” Alex started to get up, ready to leave. I stopped him. “It’s already evening. Stay for dinner before you go. Don’t tell me you’re not hungry?”

Alex froze, but then followed me into the kitchen. I served him a bowl of porridge and some pasta. He sat stiffly, a little uncomfortable. I glanced at him. “Relax. I made it for both of us, and it’s not *that* bad.” Alex ate slowly. I watched him finish, then cleaned up. I couldn’t resist asking him, “Where did those injuries come from? If you don’t want to talk about it, then…” Dr. Reed cut me off, his voice flat. “Thank you for your hospitality. I know what you’re trying to do, but please, stop bothering me. You’re… a nuisance.” I froze, disbelief washing over me. Alex turned and left. I watched his retreating back, lost in thought. The next morning, I went to the hospital as usual, but instead of seeking out Dr. Reed, I headed straight for my father’s room. The door opened, and I looked up, surprised to see Dr. Miller, not Alex. Dr. Miller seemed to read my mind, offering casually, “Oh, Alex was transferred back to internal medicine. I’ll be handling your father’s case from now on.” I nodded absently, then, as if drawn by an unseen force, found myself at the bar. The moment I walked in, I saw Dr. Reed, his arm around another man. My gaze sharpened, my eyes darkening as I fixed on them. I didn’t know why, but a wave of irritation washed over me. I went to drink alone, getting a little buzzed. Then a hand snatched the glass from mine. I spun around, my gaze locking on Caleb Hayes. My irritation flared. “What are *you* doing here? What, aren’t you going to go find your ‘friend’ anymore?” Caleb seemed slightly embarrassed by my words. Then, without a word, he slid his hand beneath my shirt, his fingers trailing across my skin. I’d just been drinking, and his touch instantly set me on edge, a low hum of arousal stirring deep inside me.

I grabbed Caleb’s hand, my eyes narrowing, piercing him with a cold stare. “Stop it. Just stop touching me. I told you I’m not interested. So stay away from me.” Caleb immediately deflated. I glanced at the empty seat next to him, my face cold, and drank until midnight, finally stumbling home and collapsing into bed. My phone on the nightstand wouldn’t stop ringing, but I ignored it. When I finally woke up, I saw Alex Reed’s face hovering over mine. It took me a moment to realize I was in my own house. Seeing him there was unbelievable. I spoke calmly. “What are you doing at my place?” Alex placed a freshly made breakfast in front of me, taking his time. “Your father’s condition suddenly worsened yesterday, and I called you, but you didn’t answer. So I had no choice but to come find you. Your father’s condition is stable now.” I nodded in thanks. Alex left, and after resting for a while, I headed to the bar. Passing through a small alley, I heard a familiar voice. I stopped and walked into the alley. I saw Alex, someone grabbing his hair and slamming his head against the wall. I lunged forward, beating the guy senseless. The thug was furious. “Who the hell are you?! How dare you interfere!” I looked at the bruises on Alex’s face, my eyes darkening dangerously. I turned to the thug, my voice cold. “Did *you* do that to him? What right did you have?” The guy spat, a sneer twisting his lips. “Yeah, I hit him. That lowlife owes me loan shark money. I’m his creditor. Why *can’t* I hit him?” I let out a cold laugh, then unleashed a flurry of blows right to *his* face. The thug reeled back, blood gushing. It was only when Alex grabbed my arm, pulling me back, that I finally stopped. I pulled a card from my wallet and flung it at the guy, a sneer on my face. “This covers his debt and *your* medical bills. Don’t let me ever see you again.”

I carried Alex back to my place. I cleaned his wounds, my face remaining impassive the entire time. Alex, carefully, almost whispered, “Thank you. I… I’ll pay you back.” After I finished applying the ointment, I turned and went out onto the balcony for some air, ignoring Alex completely. He looked a little awkward, wanting to leave. I saw his hesitation, my voice flat. “I doubt you can even go back to your place right now. So, you want to sleep on the street?” Alex stopped, then finally conceded. I went to the bathroom to shower. Seeing the photos hanging on the wall only fueled the anger churning inside me. After my shower, I found Alex sitting on the couch. I walked up to him, pushing him down onto the cushions, fighting to control the rage in my heart. “Alex Reed, do you think you’re some kind of martyr? Letting yourself get beaten like that without fighting back, playing the saint? And then you’re canoodling with other men? Bravo, really. Just *bravo*.” Alex avoided my gaze, still unresponsive. I stared at him, a cold laugh escaping my lips. “Fine, fine. Good for you.” I roughly twisted Alex’s face towards me, my mouth crashing down on his. I bit hard, and he let out a muffled gasp. I seized the opening, my tongue plunging in, tangling with his like a furious storm. He pushed back, but I slammed his hands against the couch, pinning him. My hands, no longer innocent, roamed freely over his body. His fresh-from-the-shower scent, combined with the raw hunger inside me, ignited a desperate heat that burned through every inch of my skin. That night, reason crumbled, utterly consumed by a raging inferno of desire. The next morning, I woke up to find the spot beside me empty. I’d gotten up early on purpose, heading to the hospital to find Alex.

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It was a Latin ballroom aerial spin, and my husband, my dance partner, didn’t catch me. I fell to the floor, leaving me completely paralyzed. Noah frantically slapped himself, claiming it was an accident, swearing he’d care for me for life. He tearfully claimed financial strain forced him to stop paying my medical bills, only to turn around and buy his ex-girlfriend a custom-made haute couture dance outfit. I lost the critical window for treatment and would be bedridden for life. I grieved for my broken body, when I accidentally overheard him on a call with his buddy: “Are you being too cruel to Aria?! You deliberately didn’t catch her just so Skylar could win the championship.” Noah was silent for a long moment. “I’ve wronged Aria, but I’ll take responsibility for her until the end! Even though she’s lost her legs and her dream, she has my complete love!” Staring at my life, a dark abyss, I slit my wrists. As my blood splattered, Noah, with red eyes, claimed he regretted it.

“Why are your eyes so red? Are your legs hurting again?” Noah’s voice, as always, was gentle when he hung up the phone. For a moment, I couldn’t tell which was the real him. “The dance troupe just called, they want me to go over.” The dance troupe? Weren’t you just mocking me with your buddy? I stared intently at him, trying to find a hint of a lie in his gaze. He awkwardly tilted his head. That’s his tell when he’s lying. “The dance troupe said they could lend me some money so I can pay for your treatment.” I scoffed. It was only a few days ago, when the nurse came to urge payment, that I found out many of my treatment fees were overdue. That’s why I couldn’t get physical therapy. When I asked Noah, he looked troubled. “Paying for your legs drained my savings, but don’t worry, I’ll cover the costs even if I have to take out a loan.” I kept waiting. Until yesterday, when the doctor gave me the devastating diagnosis: “Missed the optimal treatment window, regaining the ability to stand will be difficult.” That’s when I understood my life was over; I’d forever be a bird in a cage. “Okay, you go.” I lay down, not clinging to him for company as I usually did. Only after the hospital room door closed did I bury my face and weep. I sobbed myself into a daze until I fell asleep, only to be woken by the TV news. It was Skylar. She had just won another Latin dance competition, surrounded by reporters for interviews. I saw myself before I was paralyzed: I was always first in every major competition, surrounded by countless reporters, showered with congratulations. “Skylar, who do you want to thank most for winning this championship?” “My first love. Thank you for always being there for me, encouraging me, and even buying me my dance outfit!” “Oh, and it looks like it’s a specially customized haute couture outfit!!” “Oh, whether it’s haute couture or not isn’t important! But he’s truly wonderful to me! Oh, come on! Don’t be so nosy!” Skylar’s pretty face flushed slightly, and she happily glanced to the side. In the corner of the camera, there was a hint of a light blue sleeve. That was the color of Noah’s shirt today. I nervously squeezed my hands. What if it was just a coincidence? What if it was just the same brand? I called the dance troupe director. My heart pounded with each ring of the phone.

“Noah? He didn’t tell me he was coming over!” He abandoned my surgery to celebrate Skylar’s championship win. Even knowing what the outcome would be, I still desperately needed confirmation. I looked at Skylar’s dance outfit, glittering with diamonds and incredibly luxurious, and couldn’t help but run my hands over my numb legs. So, “tight on money” and “forced to delay treatment payments” were just your lies. I sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “Director, I’d like to see the video of the competition from the day I fell.” The director was surprised. Before, I had always resisted this, even talking about it would make me break down. I fast-forwarded to the part where I fell. I leaped into the air; Noah’s body swayed, and the hand that was supposed to catch me paused five centimeters away from my body. I fell heavily to the ground. Immediately after, there was his gasp of alarm and his frantic attempt to help me up. Anyone watching would only think it was an accident. But recalling Noah’s nonchalant tone on the phone, I felt his swaying body, his hesitating hand, were so deliberate. For Skylar, he made me paralyzed, ruined my life. But he was the one who ignited my dream. During college, I repeatedly hit roadblocks in Latin dance competitions and had poor results. I decided to give up dancing after one last performance. The music had just stopped when I heard applause. “I’m truly grateful that such an excellent dancer exists in this world, allowing me to witness such beautiful dancing!” His voice was filled with undisguised admiration. That was the first time I met Noah. Two strangers who knew nothing of each other: one venting about future uncertainties; the other encouraging me not to give up my dream. I put on my dance shoes again, and after graduation, I reunited with Noah. I was filled with joy, yet I was rejected by major dance competitions at the peak of my career. After much asking around, I learned I’d been blacklisted by Noah’s ex-girlfriend, Skylar. Unable to afford my mom’s surgery, and seeing the critical illness notice, I knelt before Skylar. She made no demands on me, not even the typical “leave Noah” drama you see in TV shows. She just gave me a faint glance, making me understand the vast chasm between us. Skylar showed mercy, but my mom still missed the optimal treatment window and passed away. I dared not blame anyone, only weep bitterly in the dead of night, clutching my mom’s clothes. After I got together with Noah, I once brought this up to him. He was silent for a long moment. “Skylar can be a bit willful, don’t take it to heart.” My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Could a simple “willful” cover up the crime of causing my mother’s death? Noah irritably tugged at his tie. “So what do you want me to do? Hold her accountable for something irreversible?” “You can’t blame Skylar for this; it’s purely because you, as her daughter, were incompetent, which led to your mother’s untreatable death!” I was incompetent? I won every competition I entered! But I didn’t dare talk back. Afraid my peaceful life would be ruined by Skylar again.

I watched the video again and again until Noah returned. He walked over, and seeing me watching the competition video, a flicker of unease crossed his face. “Don’t watch these, it’ll just upset you, and I’ll feel terrible.” His face was full of tenderness, but my heart was filled with mockery. “Didn’t you orchestrate this? Weren’t you behind all of this?” The words were barely out of my mouth when Noah, seemingly hurt by my attitude, his voice turned sharp. “What are you talking about? Aria, I’ve cared for you with all my heart since your accident, and this is how you see me?” “If it weren’t for me, with your leg broken this morning, your gambling addict father would have already abandoned you for dead, perhaps even selling your remains to cover his debts!” The more he spoke, the more genuine he sounded, wearing an expression that said, “How could you be so unreasonable?” “Wasn’t it for Skylar?” My voice was icy. “I…” The color drained from Noah’s face, and all the words he was about to say caught in his throat. “It’s not what you think.” After a long moment, Noah spoke, his voice dry. “When I gave her up back then, I wronged her.” “That’s *your* wronging of her, what does that have to do with me? Why should my legs be the price of your compensation to her? I’m not some mistress!” I was losing control. “Calm down! Look at it from another angle, it’s not all bad.” “I’ve repaid my debt to Skylar, and now I can fully devote myself to you, with no more ties to her.” “Even though you can’t walk anymore, you have *all* of me now!” I literally couldn’t believe my ears. “What’s so great about having a bastard like you?! I just want my body back!” After losing my legs, the brokenness of my body wore away all my strength. I couldn’t calmly love anyone anymore. Noah’s eyes instantly turned cold. “Looks like you haven’t realized you’ll be living off my charity for the rest of your life.” Soon, I understood the meaning of Noah’s words. I wanted a drink of water, but my wheelchair got stuck on the rug. “You stay here and reflect. Think about what kind of attitude you should have toward me from now on.” Noah slammed the door shut and left, a smug look on his face. I felt my mouth go dry, staring at the water glass just within reach. The thirst gradually morphed into a searing pain that scorched my soul. I don’t know how much time passed, when an uncontrollable urge to urinate swept over me. My catheter needed changing. Usually, Noah would change it for me at this time. I bit my lip tightly, furiously pressing the wheelchair’s control lever. The wheelchair shook violently, and I tumbled to the floor. I didn’t even care about the pain. I quickly crawled toward the bathroom. I desperately tried to arch my body, but still couldn’t resist my body’s needs. A warm sensation soaked my pants. I clenched my fists, wishing I could just die right there. The uncontrollable humiliation shattered my self-esteem far more than any verbal abuse. Not until the next morning, when the caregiver arrived. The caregiver lifted me onto the bed, deftly pulling off my pants, then unceremoniously wiping between my legs with a towel. I was turned over and over by her hands, like a dead pig waiting to be butchered. She looked disgustedly at the soiled items in her hand, constantly complaining, “It stinks! Can’t even control her own piss and crap.” “If I were you, I’d just die! Living is just wasting air and food.” I was shaking with rage, my teeth chattering. “This is your job, my husband pays you handsomely…” Before I could finish, the caregiver shoved my soiled pants into my mouth. The foul smell assaulted my nostrils, making me feel faint. “Shut up! Still making trouble even in this state! Mr. Noah is just taking pity on you, giving you a meal, just like he’d feed a stray dog on the street!” “For a rich man like Mr. Noah, money is just a number. His most precious asset is time, and his time is spent on…” The caregiver sneered, not finishing her sentence. But I understood what she meant. Half an hour ago, the dance troupe’s official SnapChat account posted some photos. Noah and Skylar embracing and dancing on a grand stage, with all eyes focused on them. That was something I could never achieve again in this lifetime. Why were my life and love so painful? I slit my wrist. As my blood stained the floor, I couldn’t help but wickedly wonder what Noah’s reaction would be. Sadness? Maybe he’d feel relieved to get rid of this burden! I thought death was the end, but surprisingly, my soul floated beside my body. My colleagues from the dance troupe were the first to come see me. “Oh my God, how could Aria be so desperate!”

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The billionaire CEO’s brother just threw a card at me. “Five million. Leave my brother and be with me.” 0 I sat on the plush sofa in the luxurious estate, gazing at the man before me. He had deep-set eyes, handsome features, and an extraordinary aura. The unexpected bank card left me utterly bewildered. “Five minutes are up. What’s your decision?” The man across from me glanced at the million-dollar watch on his wrist, his intense eyes fixed on mine. This whole mess started three days ago. I was sitting in a high-end luxury car, facing a CEO worth hundreds of millions. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, not a single cheap item on him. He looked every bit the successful businessman. But the moment he spoke, he sounded like every cringey, old-school romance novel CEO combined: “Man, you’re playing with fire.” My toes curled so hard, I swear they were trying to dig a tunnel straight to the core of the earth. After rejecting him for the hundred-and-fifth time, I finally gave in. That’s because I found out his brother was Julian Thorne—the very man I’d once glimpsed and couldn’t stop thinking about. He was my long-standing crush. Then, Leo took me home, and I became his ‘fake’ boyfriend, just to deal with his family. And the powerful man in front of me was my ‘boyfriend’s’ brother, Julian Thorne. My silence made Julian’s brows furrow. “If two million a month isn’t enough for your allowance, I can add another two million.” The man casually dropped another shocking number, just like that. What he said next, however, was surprisingly respectful and comforting. “We’ll be in a normal relationship, not a sugar daddy situation. You’ll have plenty of personal space. Work if you want, or don’t work at all; I can take care of you.” Every word Julian said was like a temptation, and they crashed down on me, one after another. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thorne, but I’m already your brother’s boyfriend. Please don’t overstep.” At my words, his eyes turned cold, and the air around us seemed to drop several degrees. “I told you, you’re breaking up with him.” His sudden oppressive aura startled me, but I quickly regained my composure. “I won’t break up with Leo. We’re even planning to get married in the future. I hope you can give us your blessing, Julian.” My polite, yet distant smile seemed to sting his eyes. A vein throbbed on his forehead, as if he was holding something back. I nervously swallowed. Just then, the front door clicked open. It was Leo returning. “Ugh, I’m boiling! What kind of crazy weather is this? Is it trying to steam people alive?” I secretly let out a sigh of relief, smiling as I walked over to take his jacket. As soon as I took his blue casual jacket, Leo shivered. “Why is it so cold in here? What’s the AC set to?” Neither Julian nor I spoke. He looked between us, then put his jacket back on. “So, Julian, how was your chat with Cicada?” Cicada was my nickname. I was born in the summer, and cicadas always buzzed at night, so that’s how I got it. Julian raised an eyebrow. “Cicada?” Then he gave me a meaningful look. Before I could say anything, Leo, being the chatterbox he was, started rambling. “Yeah, Alex’s nickname is Cicada. Cute, right?” To show off how close and sweet we were, he even deliberately added ‘cute.’ He also gave me a loving glance. “Cicada and I had a great chat. She really likes having me as a brother.” 0

Besides me, Leo was clearly choked up by Julian’s use of “Cicada” too. But he just found it unusual. After all, calling someone by their nickname, a sign of intimacy, was something you’d *never* see his older brother do. Still, it only stumped him for a few seconds before he completely forgot about it, loudly demanding dinner, totally different from how he was when I first met him. Julian nodded, calling the housekeeper to bring the food to the dining table. We all went over and ate. At the table, Julian kept finding ways to talk to me, his gaze laced with ambiguous warmth. My actual ‘boyfriend,’ however, was completely oblivious, focused entirely on his rice. “Even though Leo isn’t young anymore, he’s always been spoiled by the family. He’s a bit childish, Cicada, so please be patient with him.” I understood his hint and replied politely, “There’s nothing to be patient about. I think he’s great just the way he is. I, for one, happen to like the ‘puppy-like’ type.” Julian picked up a piece of lean meat and put it in my bowl. He feigned ignorance about the meaning of “puppy-like.” “Puppies look cute, but they only know how to whine, act adorable, and play pathetic. They don’t offer the same sense of security as a ‘wolf-dog’ type.” “Large dog breeds can be handsome too, and they’re capable of protecting their owner.” The atmosphere between Julian and me at the dinner table was subtly charged, while Leo was in a completely different world. He quickly devoured the food in his bowl, then looked up at his brother and smiled. “You don’t get it, Julian. Cicada isn’t talking about actual dogs. It’s a type of person.” He wiped his mouth and continued, “Cute and easy to pity, that’s a ‘puppy-like’ type, like me. Overly dominant, full of security, and bossy, that’s a ‘wolf-dog’ type, like…” Leo scanned Julian up and down, not daring to finish his sentence. “Like Julian, for example,” I smoothly interjected. Leo looked at me approvingly, as if to say, “Bro, you’re awesome!”

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