To make sure my daughter got a decent meal, I took a massive risk and snuck her into the company’s annual banquet. I never expected the big boss to decide to “dine with the commoners” and sit at our exact table. My daughter blinked her big, innocent eyes at the CEO. The CEO looked back at her. She turned her head, called me “Mommy,” and then stared incredibly seriously at the CEO. “This is Mommy. Why aren’t you calling her Mommy?” 1 Instantly, every single eye at the table was glued to me and the CEO. I frantically slapped my hand over her mouth, laughing awkwardly. “Kids say the darnedest things! So silly!” Penny yanked my hand away and pointed innocently at my two coworkers. “Auntie Maya and Uncle Leo call you Mommy too!” Maya and Leo were our newest interns. I noticed they were always eating sad desk salads or ordering takeout, so I invited them over for dinner a few times. The two of them had been so overwhelmed with gratitude that they tearfully started calling me “Mommy.” I scooped Penny up in my arms and bolted. “Excuse us, she needs the restroom!” Penny struggled, trying to speak, but she was no match for my panicked adrenaline. I hauled her away. “Penelope, what did you promise me before we left the house?” I stood her against the wall, making her put her hands flat against her sides. I used my most serious Mom Voice. “Only eat, no talking,” she pouted, her lower lip sticking out as she immediately tried to act cute. “I’m sorry, Mommy! But I’m so hungry.” “When we go back, absolutely no talking!” I lightly tugged on her earlobe, and she dramatically winced and nodded. I had hoped the big boss would have moved to another table by the time we got back, but he was still sitting there. Seeing me return, my coworkers immediately tried to smooth things over, telling me the food was getting cold and urging me to eat. I was eating and keeping an eye on Penny when a piece of sweet and sour rib suddenly appeared on her plate. Before I could say thank you, Penny shrieked, “You didn’t use the serving chopsticks! That’s unsanitary!” Everyone’s heads snapped over, catching sight of the CEO’s chopsticks before he even had a chance to pull them back. Then, in perfect unison, everyone slammed their heads back down, pretending they had never looked up in the first place. The CEO coughed twice, picked the rib back up, grabbed the communal serving chopsticks, and placed a fresh piece on Penny’s plate. The little girl nodded in satisfaction. Then, using her own chopsticks, she dropped a piece of beef onto Liam Sterling’s plate. “Courtesy demands reciprocity.” It was like the two of them had initiated a localized automated protocol. They just kept going back and forth, serving each other food. I was incredibly embarrassed, but I also used the distraction to eat my weight in crab legs. I was very satisfied. Halfway through the banquet, Liam had to leave for another engagement. The moment he walked away, everyone at the table exhaled a massive sigh of relief. “Chloe, I swear my food wasn’t digesting while he was sitting here,” Leo groaned, watching Liam’s retreating back. “Me neither,” Maya quickly agreed. “I was too scared to even chew.” I looked over at little Penny, who was happily munching on a shrimp, and couldn’t help but give her a thumbs-up. 2 It was very late by the time we got home. Penny had run wild all day, so she crashed the second her head hit the pillow. I took a shower, crawled into bed, and my phone lit up. I opened my texts and saw a two-word message from a specific contact: [Come over.] After double-checking that Penny was dead asleep, I went next door. Before I even had a chance to scan my fingerprint, the door swung open from the inside. A pair of strong, muscular arms pulled me in and pinned me against the wall in the entryway. He gripped my waist, gently rubbing his nose against mine, and pecked my lips playfully. “Mommy?” My face turned burning red. “Kids don’t know what they’re saying.” He let out a low chuckle, raising an eyebrow as if considering the thought. “Well, she’s not entirely wrong.” Then he suddenly scooped me into his arms. By the time I opened my eyes again, it was 8:00 AM. I panicked, frantically throwing on my clothes, terrified that Penny would wake up and freak out when she couldn’t find me. Liam leaned back against the headboard. “I already had someone go over to your place.” “Who?” I asked. He frowned. “That kid you adopted at the office.” A second later, my phone rang. Maya’s voice came through the speaker: “Chloe! Penny is still asleep. Don’t worry about your business trip, I’ll watch her!” Knowing someone was with Penny, I let out a massive sigh of relief and slowed down my frantic dressing. Liam hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Since you’re awake, let’s get some exercise.” Liam was flying out for a business trip at noon. Before he left for the airport, he had someone deliver a massive order of steamed pork ribs to my apartment. It was my absolute favorite dish, and also Penny’s favorite. The clock on the wall hit 6:00 PM. I brought the ribs home and called Penny and Maya to the table for dinner. Last night was a rare exception; Liam almost never let me stay the night. We kept our relationship perfectly hidden. He was the untouchable CEO; I was an invisible assistant in the secretarial pool. He was going to be gone for three months this time. I felt an unprecedented wave of relief. On the first of every month, he wired money to my account. This time, he sent six months’ worth upfront. I took that money and took Penny to the fancy buffet she had been begging to go to. Liam had never treated me poorly, but I knew the day would eventually come when he got bored of me. When that day arrived, I would take Penny and leave San Francisco to move back to my hometown in the Midwest. It wasn’t as glamorous as SF, but the schools were decent, and more importantly, I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear of being discovered. I was incredibly thankful that Penny looked exactly like me. There wasn’t a trace of Liam in her features. But as she got older, some of her little mannerisms were becoming terrifyingly similar to his. It was starting to make me anxious. 3 Getting pregnant with Penny was a complete accident. Six years ago, I was a brand-new hire. The senior executive assistant had to travel, so I was temporarily assigned to accompany Liam to meet a client. It turned out someone had slipped something into his drink. I had just graduated. My grandmother was critically ill and needed surgery we couldn’t afford. In a moment of absolute desperation, I gritted my teeth, got into his bed, and planned to use it to blackmail him for the surgery money. But before I even had the chance to demand the hush money, the hospital called. My grandmother was failing. I dragged my exhausted body to the hospital, but I was too late. I didn’t have a dime. I couldn’t even afford to decide where she would be buried. Eventually, my relatives scraped together enough money to buy a plot in a public cemetery back in our hometown. Three days later, I went back to the office. The senior assistant had heard about my grandmother and told me to just go with the flow and try to live in the present. I forced a smile and nodded, even though I had my resignation letter drafted and ready to send. After what I did, being fired was the best-case scenario. I could have gone to jail. But what I expected didn’t happen. Instead, the company transferred me to the Austin branch “for professional development.” I was terrified, asking around to find out why I was being shipped off. The senior assistant just smiled and told me it was a good opportunity and not to worry. It wasn’t until later that I found out the person who actually drugged Liam was the head of the Austin branch. That woman threatened to jump off the building if Liam didn’t marry her. Liam immediately called her parents. To apologize and sweep it under the rug, her parents handed over a massive piece of commercial real estate to Liam’s company. “She’s been obsessed with Mr. Sterling forever,” a coworker gossiped. “She’s the daughter of a family friend. She used to work here at HQ, but they transferred her to Austin.” “Did you know about her and Mr. Sterling?” The coworker winked at me and started spilling all the colorful details… I was shocked. Did another girl go into his room after I left? “Weren’t there security cameras?” I asked, pretending to be casually curious. “Please, the princess planned it perfectly. She had the hallway cameras shut off in advance. If Mr. Sterling hadn’t played hardball, we probably would have all been invited to their wedding by now,” another older coworker chimed in knowingly. I let out a long exhale. I could finally tear up my resignation letter. “You lucked out,” someone else joked. “The Austin branch is smaller, but there’s plenty of money to be made there.” I just smiled and didn’t say anything. Not long after I got to Austin, I realized I was pregnant. My first instinct was to get an abortion. But I was so desperate for family. So desperate for a companion. After agonizing over it, I decided to keep the baby. Looking back, I was actually incredibly lucky. Just a few days after I found out I was pregnant, another coworker was transferred from HQ to Austin. They ended up taking on a lot of my workload. By the time I was transferred back to HQ, Penny was already learning how to talk. Everyone at the main office was shocked that I came back with a toddler. I fabricated a tragic story about getting engaged in Austin, but my fiancé dying in a car crash. Everyone was so sympathetic, telling me that having a child meant having a piece of him to hold onto. I forced a bitter smile and agreed. As for Liam and me… he was the one who approached me. He said we were both adults with physical needs. Since I already had a child, he knew I wouldn’t cling to him with unrealistic expectations like the younger girls. He also offered to move me into a much nicer, more secure building, and give me a generous monthly allowance. I just stared at his eyes, completely dumbfounded. “Does Ms. Vance feel the compensation is too low?” he asked. It wasn’t just “not low.” It was more than enough for Penny and me to live very comfortably. “It’s not low,” I replied, giving an honest assessment. He let out a low chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get the short end of the stick.” 4 Liam texted me saying he wanted home-cooked food. The moment I saw the message, a wave of intense irritation washed over me. I had promised to steam fish for Penny tonight. I couldn’t just drop everything and go to his place. He usually didn’t ask to see me the day he got back from a business trip. This sudden ambush really annoyed me. Not long after I sent a text rejecting him, the doorbell rang. Penny cheered and ran to the door, chanting, “Penny’s boba! Penny’s boba!” I didn’t want her opening the door alone, so I followed her. I was absolutely stunned to see Liam standing in my entryway, looking like he had just stepped off a plane. “Mommy, we don’t have shoes for him,” Penny frowned, looking up at me. I was so caught off guard by his sudden appearance that the only thing I could do was hand him Leo’s extra pair of guest slippers. “Those are Uncle Leo’s,” Penny pouted. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy will buy Uncle Leo new ones,” I said, crouching down to hold her little hands. Suddenly, I felt an intense, burning gaze sweeping over me. I looked down and realized I had completely forgotten I was only wearing a thin silk camisole. While I was standing there panicking, the doorbell rang again. Liam smoothly opened the door and took a beige insulated bag from the delivery driver. “Penny’s boba!” Penny shrieked happily, reaching up with both hands to grab the bag from Liam. Liam kicked off his shoes—pointedly avoiding Leo’s slippers—and walked into my living room in his socks, holding the bag in one hand and putting the other in his pocket. Penny followed right behind him like an eager little puppy. He slowly and methodically pulled the boba cup out, poked the straw through the lid, and gestured for Penny to hold the cup with both hands. The little girl’s eyes were glued to the boba. She obeyed his every command. When she finally got her hands on it, she took a massive gulp and let out a very satisfied sigh. “Mommy, can I drink my boba and play on my iPad?” Her eyes screamed, Please do not say no to me. I nodded, and she bolted toward her bedroom with the boba. Once her door clicked shut, I finally had a second to deal with Liam. For once, I didn’t call him “Mr. Sterling.” I said, “Liam, why are you at my house?” He casually grabbed the second cup of boba from the bag and took a sip. “Too sweet.” Then he walked over to the entryway and dragged his carry-on suitcase inside. “I want to take a shower.” He said it so casually, like it was his own house. I did something incredibly childish and tried to physically push him out the door. Instead, I ended up trapped in his arms. “Be a good girl. Raising a kid takes a lot of money.” Liam’s tone was light, but there wasn’t a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Doesn’t it?” His words hit me like a slap to the face, waking me up immediately. Just because he had been a little accommodating lately, I had completely forgotten that I held zero leverage in this dynamic. I was getting arrogant. “Good girl. I’m going to shower,” he said, releasing me with a slow, leisurely smile. With an extra adult in the house, I grabbed some more vegetables from the fridge. I kept chopping and prepping, but my mind was a million miles away. I had changed out of the silk cami into a standard, practical cotton pajama set. Suddenly, a pair of slightly damp arms wrapped around my waist, and wet hair tickled my ear. “I’ve never seen you wear pajamas like this,” Liam whispered in my ear. 5 To keep him happy, I always made sure to wear sexy lingerie or silk nightgowns around him. This was the first time I was letting him see the domestic, everyday version of me. “Mommy!” Penny’s voice was getting closer. Liam released me like he had been electrocuted, instantly putting distance between us. “Did you finish it?” I asked. “No.” Penny always dragged out her syllables when she talked. “Mommy said I could only have a little bit, so Penny only drank a little bit.” “You’re so good.” I wiped my hands on my apron and patted her little head. “Can you go look at your picture books for a little while? Dinner will be ready soon!” Now that the sugar rush was settling down, Penny suddenly became very interested in Liam. “Mommy, who is he?” I glanced at Liam, completely freezing up. “I’m your mommy’s coworker,” Liam said, crouching down to her eye level. “Do you know what a coworker is?” “I know! Like Uncle Leo and Auntie Maya!” Penny looked incredibly proud of herself, clearly waiting for a compliment. “Not exactly the same.” Liam was about to keep talking, but I quickly cut him off. “Penny, ask the nice man to read you a storybook!” The second I said it, I realized how impulsive it was. I looked at him nervously, and sure enough, his brow was slightly furrowed. I tried to backpedal immediately. “Mr. Sterling, if it’s too much trouble…” “Let’s go,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve read to my friends’ kids before.” I let out a long sigh of relief, but a sudden wave of sadness hit me. This was the first time Penny was ever spending time with her father. 6 After dinner, Liam dragged me back to his place. Even though we had been intimate countless times, being alone with him still made me incredibly nervous. “How old is your daughter?” he asked. “Four,” I lied, shaving a year off. “Was it a C-section?” Liam asked. My hand instinctively reached toward my C-section scar, but he beat me to it. My hand ended up covering his. Our hands had intertwined a million times before. Whenever passion overwhelmed us, I would cling to him like a lifeline, his palms always radiating intense heat. He flipped his hand over and gripped mine tightly. “Did it hurt?” I forced myself to stay calm, terrified of what he was getting at. Did he somehow know? “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. But since he’s gone, I wanted to have a piece of him left in this world.” I dragged out my fabricated dead fiancé to use as a shield. Liam squeezed my hand harder. “You two must have been very much in love.” I couldn’t read the emotion in his voice, but the crushing grip on my hand made it very clear he was not happy. “I don’t like talking about the past,” I said, pulling away from his embrace. “I have to go. I can’t leave Penny home alone.” He didn’t say anything. He just leaned back against the headboard. The warm yellow light from the lamp spilled over him. I couldn’t clearly see his face, but I knew he wasn’t going to ask me to stay. The first thing I did when I got home was check on Penny. I loved staring at her face while she slept. People always say daughters look like their fathers. I was terrified of seeing Liam’s reflection in her face. Thankfully, she still had her baby fat. Forget looking like anyone specific, she just looked like a generic toddler. If you tossed her into a room full of kids, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to spot her right away. But tonight, seeing the two of them sitting next to each other at the dinner table… those subtle micro-expressions, the identical little habits… I closed my eyes, too scared to even think about it. Women are emotional creatures. Even though I had zero feelings for Liam when this started, things were different now. I felt like I was falling for him. I even had this insane, reckless urge to just tell him the truth—that Penny was his biological daughter. But then what? Would Liam even want her? And even if he did want Penny, would he want me? I stubbed out my cigarette, hid the pack back in its secret spot, and let the smoke drift out into the night air. I opened the balcony window, and the freezing wind slapped me in the face, waking me up completely. It was time to end this. 7 Some busybody posted the photos of Liam and Penny interacting at the banquet into the company group chat. [Do you guys think Chloe’s kid might actually be Mr. Sterling’s…] They didn’t finish the sentence, but… everyone knew exactly what they were implying. [No way. Chloe is way too plain. She’s not Mr. Sterling’s type at all.] [You guys need to stop gossiping. Chloe’s fiancé died in a car crash. The baby was born after he died.] An older coworker jumped in to defend me. [You guys need to watch your mouths. Little Penny already doesn’t have a dad, and now you’re making up disgusting rumors about her mom!] [Careful what you type…] More and more coworkers started taking my side. “These people are unbelievable,” Maya was even angrier than I was. “Penny looks nothing like the CEO.” “Penny is so adorable!” Leo huffed indignantly. “Mr. Sterling is nowhere near as likable as Penny.” The second the words left Leo’s mouth, Mr. Sterling coughed twice right behind him. There was a very important client standing next to him, desperately trying not to laugh. “Our CEO is a natural-born king,” Leo said without missing a beat, not breaking eye contact with his monitor. “We wouldn’t dare ‘like’ him. We only gaze upon him in awe from a distance.” Then, he turned around with a perfectly feigned look of surprise. “Oh! Mr. Sterling! You’re here!” Liam gave him a long, dark look before striding away. “I almost died,” Leo slumped against Maya’s desk. “How does the CEO walk without making a sound?” “Maya, can you please take this file to Mr. Sterling’s office for me?” Leo begged, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. “You’re scared? I’m scared too!” Maya shoved him away. “Get off me, stop trying to use me as a shield.” Leo turned his desperate, pleading eyes to me. With no other choice, I—the woman currently at the center of the company’s biggest scandal—had to step into the line of fire. “Liam, is that really your daughter?” “Do you actually believe that?” Before I even had a chance to knock, their conversation drifted out of the partially open door. “If she is, that’s great,” the client said. “Daughters are sweet.” “I don’t like kids,” Liam’s voice was freezing cold. “Especially fragile, whiny little girls. I can’t handle them.” I stood outside the door, the blood draining from my face. So he absolutely hated kids. Then why the hell did he read Penny a storybook? Forcing myself to stay calm, I knocked on the door. “Mr. Sterling, I have a contract that needs your signature.” “Come in.” He took the contract from my hands, signed it, and handed it back. “Ms. Vance.” “Do not bring your child to the office again. “Your salary is more than generous. You do not need to bring your child to company events just to get a free meal.” He handed me the signed contract without looking at me once. “I apologize, Mr. Sterling. It won’t happen again,” I said, keeping my face perfectly neutral, apologizing instantly. “Liam, you’re being too harsh,” the client chuckled. I shot the client a grateful look and quickly escaped that suffocating room.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444434”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day after my divorce was finalized and the assets were divided, I got into a car accident and woke up with amnesia. Later, my ex-husband, Liam, tracked me down. He told me that if I stopped acting crazy every day, he would consider remarrying me. I froze, biting down on my ice cream spoon. After a long pause, I finally spoke: “Yeah… no thanks! I… I… I’m actually perfectly fine just keeping the money.” 1 When I woke up, the first thing I saw was my best friend, Chloe, looking incredibly distressed. She told me not to be sad. She said my health was the most important thing, and even though I was divorced, I still had to live my life. She told me the kids would be fine living with Liam, and there was no point in fighting for custody because I wouldn’t win anyway. I just stared at her. After a long time, I couldn’t help but ask, “Who is Liam?” Chloe froze, a look of utter bewilderment on her face. A moment later, she snapped out of it and ran to get the doctor. The doctor said the trauma from the car crash had given me amnesia. Chloe hurriedly asked me how old I thought I was. I thought about it for a second. “I’m eighteen! Didn’t I just graduate high school yesterday?” Chloe burst into laughter. She squatted on the floor, laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach and punching my hospital bed. “Oh my god, Maya, you are… your amnesia is fantastic! Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is amazing! There’s no Liam, no kids… just you and me…” I was even more confused. 2 Chloe took me home to her apartment once the doctors confirmed my memory wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Only then did she give me a brief rundown of my current situation. I am Maya Lin. During my freshman year of college, I fell in love with a broke guy named Liam Sterling. I dated Liam for ten years, from eighteen to twenty-eight. I stayed by his side while he built his startup, eating instant ramen and struggling together. I gave birth to his children, and I took care of his elderly parents. And then, this year, he dragged me to court and divorced me. “??? What?” I was absolutely shocked. What kind of tragic soap opera was my life? After a long pause, my voice trembled as I asked, “So, what you’re saying is, I acted as this guy’s unpaid servant for ten years, and at twenty-eight, I got kicked to the curb?” Chloe nodded. “Yes. You also have two kids. A son who’s six, and a daughter who’s four. But because you were a stay-at-home mom with no personal income, and both kids said they wanted to live with their dad, full custody was awarded to Liam.” “…What??? The two kids I busted my ass to raise are just gone…” Even though I didn’t remember any of this, it sounded absolutely horrifying. I was on the verge of tears. Then Chloe laughed and patted my shoulder. “Don’t be too sad. At least you have money.” Tears welling in my eyes, I tentatively asked, “How much?” Chloe sat up straight. “Maya, listen to me. You got 20% of Liam’s marital assets. That includes a 10% equity stake in three publicly traded companies, and two massive townhouses in Manhattan. It’s valued at roughly $260 million.” “…” Silence. Deep thought. Then, I cautiously asked, “Chloe, you aren’t messing with me, right?” “If I’m lying, I’m a dog.” That day, I stared out the window at the sky in a daze. I had lost ten years of memories. I had no idea how I had lived the past decade. But Chloe said I was rich. And when I was eighteen, the thing I loved most in the world was money. So I figured this wasn’t a bad deal at all. 3 Chloe took some time off work. For a few days, she dragged me around to various offices to finalize the transfer of assets. I didn’t see this Liam guy Chloe mentioned. He had outsourced all the asset division paperwork to his lawyers. We were busy for almost a month. After that, Chloe helped me list all the properties under my name for rent. She did the math for me. The monthly rental income alone would be around $160,000. That day, I stared at the endless string of zeros in my bank account. Then I looked up at the mirror. Staring back at me was twenty-eight-year-old me, looking incredibly polished and well-groomed. I scratched my head. Not bad at all. 4 I had nothing to do all day, but Chloe had to work. So I just stayed at her apartment and played video games. When Chloe ordered lunch for delivery, she always ordered a portion for me too. She worked late. When she finally got home, she looked like a zombie, collapsing onto the sofa completely dead to the world. I put down my controller and massaged her shoulders. Must have been muscle memory, because I gave a fantastic massage. Once Chloe recovered some energy, she started venting: “Liam is a literal monster. You started working for him for free the second you graduated. His mom was in poor health, so after you got off work, you had to massage her shoulders and rub her back.” “…” As she talked, Chloe got angry, grabbed my arm, and flicked my forehead. “Maya, you were so spineless! Whenever I wasn’t around, you just let them walk all over you! That whole family bullied you because they knew you didn’t have anyone else who cared about you.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a little wronged. “But I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Chloe stopped mid-rant, then laughed. “That’s true! You don’t remember, and it’s better that you don’t. As long as you remember me, that’s enough. I won’t bully you.” I believed her, because Chloe and I grew up together. We were both raised in the foster care system. When I was little, I followed Chloe everywhere. She fought for my snacks and washed my clothes. When we got older, she tutored me. She was a year older than me. When I was a senior in high school, she was a freshman in college, and she called me every single day to make sure I was studying. She wanted me to test into her university, but her scores were ridiculously high. I studied myself half to death, but I still didn’t have the grades to get into an Ivy League. The day the scores came out, I hugged Chloe and bawled my eyes out. Chloe flicked my forehead. “What are you crying for? You scored in the top five percent. That’s amazing. Why are you crying?” She patted my head. “You did great.” Later, I went to a university in Chicago, still crying about it. 5 Whenever Chloe brought it up, she was full of regret. She said she never should have let me go to Chicago. “If you hadn’t gone to Chicago, you wouldn’t have met Liam. And if you hadn’t met Liam…” I interrupted her eagerly. “Then I wouldn’t have $260 million!” Chloe put her hands on her hips. “What’s more important, the money, or the last ten years of your life?” I tried to guess the correct answer. “The money?” Chloe looked at me like I was a lost cause. “You! You are more important. If you’re miserable, all the money in the world is useless. Thank God you got amnesia. Otherwise, if you got depressed and did something stupid, what good would the money be?” “Umm… it could buy me a really nice mausoleum…” Chloe laughed out of pure exasperation. “Get out!” “…” Chloe had always been a powerhouse, and she still was. She was the General Manager of a multinational corporation, pulling in around $55,000 a month. But she was incredibly busy, sometimes traveling for work, and she was constantly worried about leaving me alone. So she started dragging me along on her business trips. Eventually, she figured that since she was bringing me everywhere anyway, she might as well not pay for it out of her own pocket. So she hired me at her company to be her executive assistant. I was thrilled! I had spent the last few months reading dozens of romance novels about billionaire CEOs falling in love with their cute assistants. On my first day, I confidently marched into the office wearing a sleek pencil skirt and blazer. I made her coffee, organized her files, and ran around doing errands. I looked like I was working incredibly hard. Eventually, she found it hilarious, told me to stop running around, and handed me a spreadsheet. “Have Ava show you how to do this. Take your time, there’s no rush.” “You got it, boss!” And just like that, I officially started working. 6 I went to work with Chloe and left with Chloe. I didn’t have much to do, so my tasks were usually finished early. Chloe, on the other hand, had a mountain of work. I would always wait for her in the breakroom. One day, she saw me sitting there watching online lectures on my phone. She suddenly realized something and asked me seriously, “Maya, do you want to go back to school?” “…I do.” Since I had amnesia, I didn’t know how to do a lot of office work. I was basically starting from zero, and every time I messed up, I felt pretty useless. When we were kids, Chloe was my role model, and she still was. I wanted to be like her—handling everything effortlessly. It was so cool. So Chloe enrolled me in classes. Every day after work, I would drive to a continuing education center. I took systematic project management courses, sprinkled with training on various enterprise software. I filled two entire notebooks before things finally started clicking. Oh, so that’s how it works. Once I finished those, Chloe signed me up for corporate accounting classes. I studied for a year, and I had a total epiphany. So that’s what all this means. Work started becoming a breeze. 7 After I had been working for a year, Chloe started having me shadow Ava on project negotiations. Ava was three years younger than me. She was a Project Manager, and her personality was amazing. She spoke very gently, and she took great care of me. One time, after a meeting, she went downstairs to buy herself a coffee and bought me an ice cream. I happily scooped up my ice cream, and Ava laughed. “Chloe told me you’re twenty-nine, but I swear I never believe it. Maya, you act like a kid! Like a really hardworking, obedient kid.” I thought about it for a second, then solemnly informed her, “I actually have two kids.” “Stop messing with me. We’ve worked together for over a year, and I’ve never even seen your husband.” “We’re divorced.” “Girl, you literally look like a teenager.” “Mhm… well, technically I’m a divorcée.” Ava was completely bewildered. She didn’t believe me, and I laughed, because honestly, I didn’t really believe it either. In my head, I had just finished high school. How could I be twenty-nine? But I had been eating well and living stress-free for two years, so I really did look young for my age. When I first got divorced, I apparently looked terrible and exhausted. But I guess millions of dollars is the best skincare routine. Right after I got out of the hospital, Chloe dragged me to all sorts of dermatologists and spas. She also said I was too weak and signed me up for MMA classes. As an eighteen-year-old in my mind, whatever Chloe said was gospel. If she said go east, I would never go west. If she said MMA, I wasn’t going to sign up for Taekwondo. We hired a private chef to make nutritious meals, and the healthier I ate, the better I looked. Since I had amnesia, I had zero emotional baggage. I had infinite money, didn’t need to work, and could eat and sleep as much as I wanted. Over those few months, even my hair got noticeably thicker. Honestly, the past year and a half had been incredible. I completely forgot the messy, miserable ten years I supposedly lived. My eighteen-year-old brain was a clean slate, soaking up new knowledge without any pressure, and Chloe was always behind me, supporting and guiding me. But I guess the universe couldn’t stand seeing me so comfortable. One day, while I was with Ava at a client’s office building, I ran into a guy. 8 Ava’s meeting that day was highly confidential, so I wasn’t allowed in. She left me in the lobby coffee shop to eat ice cream and read a book. Halfway through my book, I felt someone staring at me. I looked up and saw a man in a tailored suit, his brow tightly furrowed. He just kept staring at me. I froze. I felt like I recognized him, but I couldn’t put a name to the face. Later, when Ava came down from her meeting, I grabbed the coffee I had bought for her and walked over to meet her. As I brushed past the man, I heard him say, “Are we pretending not to know each other now?” The comment lacked any context. I gave him a weird look, ignored it, and walked out the door with the coffee. But the man followed us out. “Maya Lin, can’t even say hello when we run into each other?” I turned around, and Ava turned around with me. Ava saw the man and smiled politely. “Mr. Sterling! It’s been a while.” Liam ignored Ava completely, keeping his eyes locked on me. I looked at the guy. Mr. Sterling? Could this be… Liam? I whispered to Ava, “Is he Liam Sterling?” “Yeah! The CEO of Sterling Group. You know him?” “…Yeah, I think he’s my… ex-husband…” Ava was completely stunned. She looked at me, then at Liam, then back at me. Liam glared at me. I thought about it for a second, then held out my hand. “Hi.” Liam didn’t shake it. He looked at me, his eyes filled with contempt and mockery. “Maya, I underestimated you. I actually thought you were a good mother! In court, you fought so hard for Oliver and Lily, but the second you got your payout, you never came to see them once… Thank God the kids weren’t given to you. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” A sudden, inexplicable wave of grief washed over my heart. But once the sadness faded, I racked my brain and still couldn’t remember what Oliver and Lily looked like. “Maya, you better come visit this weekend. Otherwise, don’t even think about seeing Oliver and Lily for the rest of your life.” Liam walked away, leaving a deeply confused Ava and a very thoughtful me.

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I tried to win over the male lead ten times. Ten times I failed, all because of his best friend, Carter. On my eleventh attempt, the male lead and I were finally married. All I had to do was get pregnant, have a child, and my mission would be complete. Then Carter showed up again. He told the male lead that my entire relationship was a calculated scheme. The male lead immediately moved out and hired a lawyer to draft divorce papers. That very night, I hired someone to kidnap the culprit. Carter knelt before me, his hands bound tightly behind his back. Even though he was covered in bruises, his eyes were still arrogant and condescending. I sneered, using the toe of my shoe to tilt his chin up, and then pressed my foot flat against his cheek. I’ve been terrified of you for ten lifetimes. This time, it’s your turn to be afraid of me. Even while kneeling on the floor, Carter kept his back ramrod straight. His custom shirt had been whipped into shreds, hanging off his shoulders in ragged strips. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. When I tilted his chin up with my shoe, his chest heaved violently, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “What’s with that look?” I sneered, stepping on his shoulder and shoving him backward. The old wooden floorboards creaked loudly. He hit the ground hard, completely defenseless. The next second, I stepped forward and pinned his abdomen with my foot. “Who gave you permission to look at me?” He stared straight into my eyes, his face completely expressionless, but the blatant mockery in his gaze was impossible to hide. I slid my foot down an inch, stopping just in time, and watched him with cruel amusement. “Stop!” That perpetually emotionless face finally cracked. His voice was tight, carrying a hint of barely concealed panic. “Stop~” I dragged out the syllable, acting innocent, and stepped down hard. “But you didn’t tell my foot to stop.” Carter’s face went rigid. His voice trembled, and his breathing grew heavy. “Let me go. I won’t press charges.” “Let you go?” I moved my foot and watched him instinctively curl in on himself. “Can you even walk out of here like this?” “How about I help you wash up before sending you out?” His eyes were bloodshot. His bound hands struggled fiercely behind his back. Before he could move his legs, I straddled his waist, pinning him down. “You have to take your clothes off to take a bath.” I tapped his designer belt buckle with my finger. “Tell me, should we take your pants off first,” I moved my hand up to the ruined buttons on his chest, “or your shirt?” His ragged panting slowed. His eyes grew hazy, as if his brain was short-circuiting. I let my guard down. I didn’t expect him to suddenly jerk his knees upward. I lost my balance and crashed hard onto the floor. Carter used the opportunity to shuffle toward the door, trying to lean against the wall to stand up. But I was faster. I grabbed the bucket of saltwater I had prepared and splashed it all over his open wounds. He didn’t even cry out in pain. He was a tough bastard. But so what? Watching Carter crawl on the ground like a drowned rat, I grabbed him by the hair and delivered a sharp chop to the back of his neck. He lost consciousness instantly. Dealing with a guy this massive was a nightmare. Tying him to the heavy iron bed frame took half my life. After making sure all the doors and windows of the abandoned warehouse were locked, I finally felt secure enough to drive away. Now, it was time to go win back my male lead. Carter and I were two parallel lines that should never have crossed. But for ten lifetimes, every time I was on the verge of finally winning over the male lead, my momentum would plummet—all because of Carter. The first time, Carter invited the male lead out to dinner. The male lead met his “destined” female lead and dumped me. The second time, I drove the male lead to Carter’s place. On the way back, I got into a horrific car crash and died on the spot. The third time, before I even managed to establish a relationship with the male lead, I accidentally offended Carter. He had me shipped overseas to do grueling manual labor. The following attempts all failed because of him too. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t avoid him. Carter was the exact type of person I feared most. Old money, gorgeous looks, and incredibly ruthless. The scariest part was that he had zero weaknesses and couldn’t be threatened. Whenever the male lead was around him, he turned into a loyal lapdog. If Carter said walk a straight line, he would never dare to turn around. During my fifth attempt, the male lead took me to meet Carter. Carter looked at me like I was radioactive trash. He explicitly warned the male lead not to bring random strays into their circle. I knew he looked down on me, so I avoided him like the plague. I never went anywhere near him. I never expected that this time, after Hudson and I were already legally married, Carter would demand Hudson divorce me. And Hudson, stupid as a rock, actually believed the so-called “dossier of evidence” Carter provided. He accused me of having ulterior motives and brought in a lawyer to negotiate my exit. I admit, winning him over was my system-assigned mission, but my love for him wasn’t fake. In every single attempt, I only had eyes for him. For him, I racked my brains to orchestrate the perfect “accidental” first meeting. I worked tirelessly to mold myself into his exact ideal type. I never wore the same date outfit twice. I even did his group projects for him in college. After all that suffering, now that we were finally together, he wanted a divorce? No way. My informant told me Hudson was currently at our penthouse packing his bags. I didn’t waste a single second and drove straight home. “Hudson, what do I have to do to make you believe my feelings are real?” Opening the door and seeing Hudson walking out with his suitcase, I threw my arms around his waist, not caring about my pride. “Hazel, stop being immature.” He didn’t stroke my hair like he used to. His words were sharp, carrying a hint of warning. “You’re sentencing me to death just because of a few pieces of paper from Carter?” I buried my face in his chest. “I love you. Even if I schemed to meet you, it was only because I wanted to be with you.” “Hazel, when a relationship is built on calculation, it’s poisoned.” He mercilessly pried my fingers apart. “Also, I don’t like it when you talk about Carter that way.” Then he strode out the door. When he loved me, he was so afraid I’d be lonely that he’d stay on FaceTime with me while we slept. When he stopped loving me, he left me all alone in an empty, echoing house. It was all Carter’s fault! If it weren’t for Carter, I would have succeeded a long time ago. I checked the time on my phone. It had been three hours. Carter should be waking up right about now. Good thing I drove fast. Carter had already managed to free one of his legs. I sneered and slapped him hard across the face. “You broke my bed.” Carter really did have delicate, expensive skin. Half of his face swelled up immediately. I grabbed his leg, tied it back to the iron post, and viciously slapped the other side of his face. “Now it’s symmetrical.” He was like a brick wall, refusing to utter a single syllable. “Speak,” I demanded, squatting by the bed. “Doesn’t it hurt?” I poked his bleeding lip. He still didn’t make a sound. “That’s fine.” I didn’t care. I leaned in closer, letting my dark hair brush against his ear, cheek, and neck. “Carter, you’re going to beg me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to look at me. I shrugged, pulled up a chair, and sat next to him to play games on my phone. I also placed a decorative water-drip hourglass on the nightstand. I watched a movie on my phone for two hours. My back ached, so I stood up to stretch. I glanced at the man on the bed, who was resting with his eyes closed. I smiled. Let’s see how long you can last. Another movie, another two hours. The person on the bed was getting restless. Without the movie playing out loud, the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of the hourglass became agonizingly clear in the silent warehouse. Carter’s brow furrowed, and his breathing became erratic. I glanced at him again, the corners of my lips curling up into a smirk. Half an hour later, the expected voice sounded: “Hazel, let me go.” “What did you say?” I stood by the bed. “I couldn’t hear you.” “Let me go.” His body was already contorting against the ropes, but he couldn’t see how pathetic he looked. “Let you go to do what?” I asked again. “You know what.” The veins on his forehead bulged, and the sound of his hands struggling against the restraints grew violent. “I don’t know what you mean.” I continued playing dumb. “Hazel!” His voice grew more intense. “Let me go, and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened.” “Beg me.” I felt a sick thrill of excitement. “Hazel!” His arrogant calmness was entirely gone. He looked like a mindless, cornered beast. I watched his frantic state with cold eyes. He looked exactly like the way he had looked at me during my third attempt—like I was nothing but a disgusting insect. “Please.” He finally surrendered. “What did you say?” I asked. “Please.” He closed his eyes in ultimate defeat. I knew I shouldn’t push him too far over the edge. I smiled brightly. “Alright, I promise.” Then I turned around and started walking toward the door. “Hazel!” He panicked. “Why aren’t you untying me?” “Untying what?” I looked innocent. “You promised me.” “Yeah, I promised you.” I said nonchalantly. “What exactly did I promise you?” He froze, completely unsure of what to say. I laughed. “Since I promised… “I promise I won’t look. “Help yourself.” I originally only wanted to scare Carter. I didn’t expect his mental defenses to shatter so easily. He lay on the bed like a corpse, his breathing barely perceptible. When I changed his torn clothes earlier, he didn’t even put up a fight. “Carter?” I called his name. His eyes were vacant. He didn’t seem to hear me at all. “Should I untie you?” I asked again. He still stared blankly at the ceiling, his eyes devoid of life. Oh my god, did I break his brain? I untied one of his hands. He didn’t react, so I untied the other. His legs were still bound, so I wasn’t afraid of him attacking me. But he just lay there on the bed, completely motionless. I started to panic. My first instinct was to run. As long as I was alive, I could try again. Worst case, I’d just restart the route and wipe my memory. I still had chances. I didn’t even bother locking the doors or windows. I drove away as fast as I could. When I got home, I packed my bags, bought the earliest flight out of New York, and settled down in a remote border town in Montana. For a whole month, absolutely nothing happened, except for Hudson calling me constantly to demand we finalize the divorce papers. I contacted my informant, asking if there was any major news in the city recently. My informant sent me a question mark. Before I could hint further, the informant sent another message saying the only big news was that the Vance family was pouring billions into overseas investments, and the head of the family was personally moving to Europe to oversee it. The head of the Vance family—wasn’t that Carter? It seemed he hadn’t lost his mind. I breathed a massive sigh of relief, but then my heart leaped into my throat again—he was definitely going to hunt me down to settle the score. The System urged me to speed up my progress. The progress bar had been stagnant for a month. It also delivered some devastating news: if I didn’t succeed on this attempt, my request to “return to the real world and resurrect my grandmother” would be permanently denied. I asked my informant how long Carter would be out of the country. The informant replied: a year at minimum, maybe three to five years. Without Carter in the way, I could finish Hudson’s romance route in six months tops. Once that was done, I’d negotiate with the System. By the time Carter got back to the US, I’d already be back in my original dimension. High risk, high reward. I immediately booked a flight back to New York to continue my mission. I never expected that the moment I stepped out of baggage claim, a group of men in suits would grab me. And the man who was supposedly “in Europe” was now sitting right in front of me in a private lounge. Except this time, the person kneeling on the floor… was me. His subordinates all left the room, leaving just me and Carter in the massive, dimly lit space. He toyed with a silver Zippo lighter in his hand. The flame flickered out, then flared up, then flickered out again, perfectly mimicking my erratic heart rate. Then I thought about it—he’s just a fictional character in a novel. What’s there to be afraid of? My fear vanished instantly. I raised my chin and glared up at him, a faint, mocking smirk playing on my lips. “What are you smiling at?” He stopped spinning the lighter, looking at me with a mix of confusion and a hint of dark madness. “Who gave you permission to sit?” I demanded. In an instant, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and a loud, nervous gulp echoed in his throat. “Kneel,” I commanded. The next second, Carter dropped to his knees on the rug like a programmed robot. His face flushed a deep crimson, and he was trembling like a leaf. I wasn’t completely clueless about what was happening, but I still felt like I was crossing a very dangerous, bizarre line. “Untie me,” I continued. His eyes grew icy, flashing with pain and a hint of intense reluctance. “Be good,” I said, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper. With just a few words, our positions were swapped once again. I was ecstatic. Hudson was Carter’s most loyal follower. If Carter was now obedient to me, completing Hudson’s romance route would be a piece of cake. Stroking Carter’s soft black hair as he knelt before me, I slapped him across the face twice without hesitation. “Who gave you permission to tie me up?” He suddenly acted like a wronged Golden Retriever, grabbing my hand, wanting to blow on my palm to soothe it. I immediately yanked it away. “Don’t touch me.” He knelt there, completely at a loss for what to do. His lips opened and closed for a long time before he finally whispered, “I didn’t tell them to tie you up.” “Carter.” I leaned in close. He visibly brightened, a faint, eager blush spreading across his cheeks. “I don’t like it when you talk back.” His face paled, and he lowered his head, staying perfectly silent. “I don’t like it when you’re silent, either,” I added. Hearing this, Carter’s head snapped up. Tears were actually welling in his beautiful eyes. “Don’t dislike me.” “Then you need to be good.” I gently touched his swollen cheek. “Does it hurt, Carter?” He took the opportunity to grab my hand again, but let it go the second my eyes narrowed in warning. “No.” I knew how to play the game—a slap followed by a piece of candy. “But it hurts me to see it.” “Don’t be hurt.” He struggled, unsure of what to call me. I touched his cheek again. “Call me Hazel.” He shyly lowered his head, then quickly looked back up. Like a kid who had just stolen a taste of honey, his eyes were full of undeniable, desperate joy. “Hazel.” “Good boy.” I took his hand. “What do you want for a reward?” “Can Hazel kiss me?” He squeezed his eyes shut nervously, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. I gave him a quick, dismissive peck on the forehead, not missing the flicker of deep disappointment in his eyes. “Hazel, don’t go.” I stood up, preparing to leave. My main mission today was to find Hudson. I had already wasted way too much time here. Carter was anxious, but I didn’t let him get up. He had to stay kneeling. “Count to one hundred and eighty, then you can get up.” Looking at his desperate, pleading eyes, I smiled. “I like it when you listen to me, Carter.” The System told me that Hudson would meet the “destined” female lead—who was working part-time as a waitress—at a charity gala tonight, playing out a classic “hero saves the beauty” trope. I had to step in and save her before he did, severing their romantic connection before it even started. Sure enough, when I arrived, the female lead was already surrounded by a group of sleazy trust-fund kids. Luckily, no one else had noticed yet. I marched over, gave the brats a harsh scolding, and then comforted the female lead. I lied and told her that her college dorm RA was doing a surprise room check, urging her to hurry back to campus. She had always been a stellar, obedient student, so she believed me completely. But she was worried about leaving her shift unattended. Right on cue, a waitress I had hired in advance appeared to take over. The female lead successfully left the gala. With that baggage handled, I scanned the room for Hudson, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. At 8:00 PM sharp, Hudson appeared. Though he wasn’t as terrifyingly powerful as Carter, he was still a highly sought-after young CEO. People lined up to hand him their business cards. I seized the opportunity and stepped right in front of him. I hadn’t seen him in a month. A wave of grievance washed over me, and my nose stung. After attempting this route so many times, my feelings for him couldn’t be explained in just a few words. When things were good between us, I had genuinely planned to give him a child before I left his world forever. The crowd tactfully dispersed, leaving Hudson and me face-to-face. “Why didn’t you come looking for me?” I pouted, throwing a tantrum like I always used to, waiting for him to coax me. “I tried calling you.” His voice was distant and cold. “Now that you’re back, let’s finalize the paperwork. The cooling-off period for the divorce is over.” “Hudson, you weren’t like this before.” I held my hand up in front of him. The wedding ring on my ring finger sparkled under the chandeliers. “Did you forget what you promised me?” Hudson had custom-made that wedding ring, inlaying it with a circle of crushed diamonds. Back then, I told him the crushed diamonds were too flashy, and that a single stone or a plain band would be fine. But Hudson had looked at me and said that setting every single diamond was like kissing my eyes. “Don’t forget to give the ring back to my lawyers.” His eyes were completely dead, as if he was discussing a mundane business transaction. “Hudson, look me in the eyes.” I grabbed the lapels of his suit. “I don’t believe you feel absolutely nothing for me anymore.” “You know me.” He gently but firmly removed my hands. “I’ve always hated deception.” “What are you two doing?” Carter’s voice suddenly rang in my ears like a death knell. Staring at the culprit who ruined my life every single time, I shook with anger. Hudson took the chance to push me away. I tried to chase after him, but Carter grabbed my arm. “Hazel, didn’t you two get divorced?” I slapped him across the face. The entire banquet hall fell dead silent. “No,” I said, enunciating every syllable. He didn’t even get mad. He just pulled me tightly into his arms. I struggled furiously but couldn’t break free. He practically carried me out of the venue. In the backseat of his Maybach, Carter held my hand, asking if it hurt. “Are you sick in the head?” I couldn’t help but curse at him. “If Hazel says I’m sick, then I’m sick.” He didn’t care at all. He brought my palm to his lips and gently blew on it. His warm breath gathered in my palm. I instinctively curled my hand into a fist, but Carter pried my fingers open one by one, refusing to let go. When we got to his penthouse, he took his shirt off and handed me a leather riding crop. “If Hazel is unhappy, you can hit me.” I lashed his back twice, but seeing the twisted mix of restraint and pleasure on his face, I was so disgusted I threw the crop across the room immediately. “Is Hazel feeling better?” he asked softly. “No,” I said. “Then what will make you feel better?” Carter asked. “Bring Hudson to me.” I blurted out. Carter lowered his head and fell dead silent. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I mocked him. “I’m going home.” “If Hazel wants to see him, I’ll bring him to you.” He put his shirt back on. Before he left, he gave me a deep, lingering look, his eyes hiding emotions I couldn’t decipher. What kind of look was that? It seemed mostly lonely, but overflowing with a kind of devastating, pathetic sadness. “Hazel, you rest here.” He gently closed the door. “I’ll go.” The next morning, just as Carter promised, Hudson appeared before me. Like a happy little bird, I sat down next to him on the sofa. “Hudson! You came to see me?” “I came for your signature,” he said coldly. “The divorce papers.” “Hudson, do you really have to talk to me like this?” My heart, which had been so full of hope, felt like it had been dumped in a bucket of ice water. “I told you, I just want to be with you.” “Do you really want to humiliate me like this?” Like a wounded animal, I slumped back into the cushions, my eyes heavy with unbearable disappointment. Right at that moment, the System’s robotic voice echoed in my head: [Correction, correction. Capture target error.] I snapped my head up, only to hear the System continue: [Capture target error. Downloading patch… Updating automatically… New mission generated: Redeem Carter.] [The mission is much easier now! Carter already loves you,] the System babbled excitedly. [All you have to do is fall in love with him.] [Hurry up and complete the mission. Your grandmother is still waiting for you to resurrect her in the real world.] The sudden mission change hit me like a ton of bricks. I had tangled with Hudson for ten agonizing lifetimes, and now you tell me to change targets?! Fury burned in my chest like a raging inferno. I looked at Hudson, who looked half-dead and completely checked out. “Hudson, let me tell you something. Plenty of guys like me. If you don’t care about me, I won’t waste my time bothering you anymore.” I jumped off the sofa. “Get out. Get as far away from me as possible.” “I was actually worried you’d be lonely! I actually wanted to have your kids! “Hudson, you don’t deserve me!” Tears betrayed me and spilled down my face. What did I do wrong to be treated like a plaything? The System had found me and told me that as long as I married Hudson and had a child with him, it would resurrect my grandmother. Ten times. Ten lifespans. Let alone a person, if you poured your heart and soul into a lifeless rock ten times, it would be impossible to just let go. What gave the System the right to easily say “change targets”? What gave them the right to erase all my past efforts, all my pain, with a simple software patch? “Sign it.” Hudson handed me the divorce papers. “You’ve already moved into Carter’s house. Sign it now so it doesn’t get in the way of you and him.” I wiped the tears from my face, took the pen, and neatly signed my name. He took the papers and walked away without looking back. “Hudson.” I couldn’t stop myself from calling out to him. “There’s no future for us anymore.” He didn’t turn around. His steps only grew faster. I stared at his retreating back, my vision blurring with tears. He turned and grabbed my hand, complaining, “Hazel, if you walk any slower, we’ll miss the fireworks.” “But Hudson, I can’t walk anymore. Will you carry me on your back?” “I can never say no to you. Hurry up and hop on. I told you those heels were bad for walking…” When my vision finally cleared, I was alone in this massive house again. There was only the heavy mahogany door. No more Hudson. Carter was incredibly happy when he walked in. His eyes sparkled, looking at me like a clear spring of water. Thinking about the new mission the System gave me, I initiated the conversation. “Carter, why are you so happy?” He pulled me onto his lap and buried his face in my chest. “Hazel, we can finally be together.” “Weren’t we already together?” I asked him. “Hazel, I’m going to treat you so well.” Afraid I wouldn’t believe him, he placed my hand over his heart. Beneath my palm, his heart was beating wildly. The man in front of me was overflowing with love. [Hurry up and tell him you love him too! Give him a little sugar, don’t let the plot stall here!] the System urged. Remembering my mission, I forced myself to nod at Carter. But that night, I had nightmares. I dreamed of Carter’s disdainful glares. I dreamed of him shipping me out of the country. I dreamed of everything he had done to me in my past lives. Not a single memory was associated with happiness; every single one was wrapped in terror and humiliation. I struggled awake from the dream, saw his terrified, anxious eyes staring down at me, and fainted from sheer panic. When I woke up again, it was noon. The sunlight stung my eyes. “Hazel, you’re awake.” Carter, who was lying next to me, pulled me into his arms. “You were having a nightmare.”

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Everyone in our circle knew that I had been obsessed with Preston Sterling since we were kids. He went to prep school, I went to prep school. He learned five languages, I learned five languages. He studied finance, I studied finance. Either way, the Sterling and Vance families were bound to intermarry. Our business empires were so deeply intertwined that neither could survive without the other. I never expected that on the day of our wedding, Preston would make a detour on his way to the venue and fly overseas to rescue his “one that got away” from some crisis. Our childhood romance became the biggest joke in town. I wore my custom multi-million-dollar gown and completed the grand wedding ceremony all by myself. In the overwhelming wave of press releases that day, my name appeared before his for the first time. Idiot. There are plenty of two-legged men running around the streets. But a fully formed business empire? There is only one. I didn’t just want his body. I wanted his money. 1 Preston’s plane had already taken off. I locked myself in the bridal suite and let a single tear fall. My hot-tempered dad was cursing up a storm outside the door. Mr. Sterling, Preston’s father, angrily dialed number after number, demanding someone catch Preston the moment he landed. I had two messages on my phone. Preston: [Autumn, wait for me. I’ll give you a proper explanation when I get back.] The other message was a photo of Preston. He was walking toward the boarding gate, looking down at his phone. He was wearing the custom tuxedo I had spent countless hours finalizing with the designer. The tie I carefully selected hung loosely around his neck. His expression was gentle, his eyes full of absolute adoration, as if he was softly coaxing the person on the other end of the line. Anyone looking at him would sigh and think how incredibly lucky the girl he was comforting must be. I zoomed in on the photo and stared at it for a long time. I really couldn’t bear to let it go. However, I had given him a chance, and he made his choice. You have to live with the moves you make on the chessboard. I touched up my makeup, dragged the long train of my wedding dress, opened the suite door, and smiled at the elders who were standing there with varying expressions of panic and fury. “The wedding will proceed as planned.” 2 It was three days later when Preston returned to the US. For seventy-two hours, I was the undisputed queen of trending topics. Every major news outlet and gossip blog was talking about how the Vance family heiress, Samantha Vance, was abandoned at the altar but still insisted on walking down the aisle and completing the complex wedding reception alone. Some lamented the coldness of high society, some defended my honor, and naturally, some gloated over my misery. Regardless, in the avalanche of press coverage, my name eclipsed Preston’s for the very first time. To express his apologies to the Vance family, my new father-in-law, Richard Sterling, hosted a private dinner to make amends. As the wine flowed and the atmosphere settled, Richard raised his glass to me. “Autumn, Dad toasts to you. “You truly are Robert’s daughter. Thank you for making a decisive choice, seeing the big picture, and saving both our families’ reputations. “The Sterlings wronged you. Don’t worry, I will make sure you get a proper explanation for this.” I lowered my eyes submissively and raised my glass. Just as I was about to speak, the banquet room doors swung open, and Preston walked in, looking exhausted from his travels. My dad’s face darkened immediately, and he slammed his half-raised wine glass onto the table. The massive dining room fell dead silent. Richard Sterling glanced at my dad, gritted his teeth, and barked at Preston, “On your knees!” Preston walked step by step over to my dad and bowed slightly. “Dad, what I did this time was wrong.” My dad let out a cold snort and didn’t acknowledge him. Preston straightened up and placed a folder on the table. “I’ve come to make amends. “During my trip to Europe, I acted as the son-in-law of the Vance family and officially signed the partnership agreement with Apex Corporation for Vance Enterprises.” 3 Vance Enterprises had been fighting for the Apex partnership for six months. All the details had been finalized, but Apex kept dragging their feet on signing. We tried every angle but couldn’t find a breakthrough. My dad’s hair had practically turned white stressing over this deal. I have to admit, Preston knew exactly how to strike where it mattered most. Bringing out this contract was a monumental achievement for the Vance family. My dad choked on his anger. Faced with Preston, he couldn’t keep scowling, but he couldn’t exactly smile and welcome him either. Preston stood before my dad, hands at his sides, eyes lowered. The corners of his lips were slightly turned up, his face the picture of calm and confidence. Richard Sterling breathed a sigh of relief and led the applause. “Robert, see? My son isn’t entirely useless. “He single-handedly secured the Apex deal for you. We should be rewarding him, not punishing him.” With Richard leading, the people at the table gradually joined the applause after the initial awkwardness. The atmosphere started to warm up. But Preston, you humiliated the Vance family in front of the whole world. What makes you think you can turn the page so easily? I frowned, my eyes turning red, and walked up to him, looking him up and down. “Preston, why are you still wearing your wedding tuxedo? “Were you taking care of Clara so tirelessly that you didn’t even have time to change your clothes?” The banquet room instantly went quiet again. Preston’s smile froze on his face. I forced a brave smile and gently pushed him toward the door. “You should go home, take a shower, change, and get some rest. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle things here.” A heavy slam on the table echoed behind me. I didn’t even have to look to know it was my dad. Richard Sterling’s voice roared, “Stop! You aren’t going anywhere!” During the standoff, a fragile figure stumbled in through the door and pushed her way between Preston and me. “Please don’t make things hard for Preston. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” 4 The newcomer was the culprit who made Preston abandon me—his childhood sweetheart, Clara Hayes. It was late autumn, but Clara was wearing a thin, pure white cotton dress, her frail body shivering in the cold. In front of everyone, without a second thought, Preston took off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around her. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car? Why did you come up here? “Are you cold?” Clara’s face was deathly pale. With red, tearful eyes, she leaned into Preston’s chest. “Preston, don’t fight with your dad over me. It’s not worth it. “I don’t have much time left to live. I can’t leave you with a mess to clean up.” Before she could say another word, Clara broke into a violent coughing fit. Preston’s brow furrowed tightly. Without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Clara. I’m taking you to the hospital.” Without sparing a single glance at anyone in the room, Preston kept his head down, softly comforting Clara as he walked toward the door. “Preston Sterling! Stop right there!” Richard was furious. He roared, “If you walk out that door, you will be cut off from the Sterling family completely!” Preston stopped. He turned around and stared coldly at his father. “My biggest regret in life was letting you send Clara away years ago. “Do you really think you can still control me like you used to?” Richard’s face turned livid, but he couldn’t utter a single word. My dad shook his head. “Richard, it seems you’re no longer the master of the Sterling house.” Preston looked at my dad and smirked. “Dad, the first thing I did when I got back to the States wasn’t admitting Clara to the hospital. It was bringing the Apex contract straight to you. “That is my ultimate show of good faith for the future partnership between the Sterling and Vance families. “Some things are better left unsaid, and some grievances are better swallowed.” He turned to me, his eyes ice-cold. “Samantha, I promised to marry you, and I did. “I’ve given you the title of Mrs. Sterling. I guarantee you’ll live a life of absolute luxury. “But as for love—I advise you not to ask for things you can’t have.” With that, he carried Clara away, not looking back once. Nestled in his arms, Clara looked back over his shoulder, staring straight at me, and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible smirk. 5 In front of everyone, I let my tears fall. Preston and I were childhood friends. We grew up side by side, thick as thieves. I was always his shadow. I followed him, learning foreign languages, studying business, taking equestrian lessons, attending wine tastings. I didn’t have my own hobbies. Whatever Preston liked, Samantha liked. The businesses of the Sterling and Vance families had been deeply integrated since our parents’ generation. We were inseparable. So, it was essentially an unspoken agreement among all the elders that Preston and I would get married. The only surprise came during our junior year of high school, when Clara Hayes received a scholarship and transferred into our class as a low-income student. She was like a delicate white flower blooming in the ruins—fragile yet resilient. She easily awakened Preston’s protective instincts. But his teenage romance was snuffed out by Mr. Sterling before it even had a chance to bloom. Despite Preston’s fierce protests, Mr. Sterling shipped Clara off to Europe. Preston completely lost contact with her. From then on, he became quiet and withdrawn. In that silence, he grew up rapidly, eventually taking the helm of the Sterling Group. When he proposed to me, I asked him what he would choose if Clara ever came back. At the time, his eyes shone like stars, looking at me with deep, unwavering devotion. “Autumn, she was just an insignificant bump in the road. “My wife will only ever be you. It can only be you.” The warmth of the kiss he pressed against my eyelid that day still felt real, yet in the blink of an eye, everything had completely changed. 6 Growing up, I could count on one hand the number of times I had cried in public. Watching me cry in front of a crowd probably hurt my dad more than if someone had stabbed him. Throwing pleasantries out the window, my dad blew up at Mr. Sterling. Then, he and my mom each took one of my hands and brought me back to my childhood home. I didn’t forget to take the Apex contract with me. Preston didn’t try to contact me. The updates about him and Clara only reached my ears through my best friend and personal gossip hub, Chloe. Clara was supposedly diagnosed with terminal cancer and didn’t have much time left. Yet she refused to be hospitalized, stubbornly insisting on moving into the penthouse that was supposed to be my marital home with Preston. And Preston actually agreed to this absurd demand. Chloe practically clawed at the air in front of me, furious. “Samantha Vance! Do you have a pulse?! How are you not losing your mind over this?!” Was I angry? I paused my work, placed my hand over my heart, closed my eyes, and felt it for a moment. I was a little sad, but not much. Seeing Chloe turn red with rage, ready to pass out, I laughed and poked her forehead. “The Apex contract just hit its first payment milestone. I need to keep a close eye on it. “Money is a hundred times more reliable than men, my dear sister.” Chloe aggressively “pfft’d” at me. “Give me a break, Samantha! You are the last person on earth who needs money! “Your family and the Sterlings could stomp your feet and cause an earthquake on Wall Street!” Seeing she was about to hyperventilate from anger, I finally threw her a bone to calm her down. “Don’t worry, this isn’t over. “Clara should be coming to see me very soon.” 7 Just as I expected, seeing that her provocations got zero reaction out of me, Clara lost her patience and sought me out. Sitting in a café on the ground floor of the Vance Enterprises building, I looked her up and down carefully and smiled. “You look great, Clara. It seems Preston is taking excellent care of you.” Clara reached her hand out and placed it right in front of me. “Mrs. Sterling, look familiar? “An heirloom bracelet from the Sterling family. If I recall correctly, Preston gave this to you the day he proposed. “It was hilarious watching you wrap it in three layers of velvet and lock it in a safe. “Something you treated like a sacred treasure, I only had to glance at twice before Preston gave it to me. “You’re just riding on your family’s coattails, occupying the title of Mrs. Sterling. “Other than that, you have absolutely nothing. “While I, besides the title of Mrs. Sterling, have everything you don’t.” Watching Clara act so arrogantly, I honestly found it kind of funny. “Clara, congratulations on your dreams coming true. “There’s just one detail you might not have noticed, but I feel obligated to remind you. “Mr. Sterling sent you to Europe. For years, you tried every possible way to contact Preston but failed. “Take a guess—who was it that specifically leaked the news of our wedding to you right before the ceremony? “And why is it that Preston’s phone number, which you couldn’t reach for a decade, suddenly went through?” Clara froze. She stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. “It couldn’t have been you, right? Are you crazy?” I leaned back in my chair, watching her with a smile, but said nothing. Clara stared at me for a long time, her eyes darting nervously. She was panicking. “Samantha, what exactly is your endgame?” I looked at her like I had just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Clara, you just called me Mrs. Sterling. Do you really need to ask? “Obviously, I want to defend my home and keep my husband. “I spent over twenty years preparing to marry into the Sterling family. Why would I just hand him over to you?” Clara was furious. She grabbed her coffee cup, ready to throw it at me. I pulled a document out of my bag and slid it across the table to her. When she read the words on the file, the healthy pink color drained from Clara’s face, leaving her ghost-white. “You… you! “How do you have this?!” I smiled, picked up my purse, and stood up. “Clara, I won’t let go. May the best woman win.”

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Seven years after I walked out of the opulent gates, I found my ex-husband standing by a dirty oil drum at the auto repair shop. He was a VIP, there to pick up his multi-million dollar supercar, the kind of man everyone in the city deferred to. The undisputed prince of the elite. And me? I was the car wash girl, in an ill-fitting uniform, my hands chapped and raw from the cold. For a full hour, he sat in the waiting lounge, never once glancing in my direction. Until the manager, eager to curry favor, pointed at a muddy tire and barked at me: “Go on, use a toothbrush to clean the pebbles out of that rim! One hundred bucks a pebble!” I did not hesitate. I knelt in the freezing water, ten degrees below zero, and used the hands that once played the piano to pick out the stones. Amidst the jeers and laughter, I shivered violently but dared not stop. When I finished the last one, I pushed myself to my feet, my knees screaming in protest. His cold, mocking voice cut through the air. “Still rather dig in the mud than come home and beg for mercy?” “Summer O’Connell, your pride sure fetches a high price!” I offered him a detached smile and extended my swollen, raw hands. “Thirty pebbles. Three thousand dollars. Cash or transfer?” Years had passed. Love and hate had long been buried. But three thousand dollars was just enough to buy my recently deceased daughter the cheapest plot in the cemetery. 1 The members of the supercar club surrounding us were filming with their phones. “Isn’t that the former Miss O’Connell? Look how far she’s fallen.” “Tsk, tsk. For a few thousand bucks, she’ll do anything.” Ethan Hill remained silent. Beside him, Chloe Hayes clung to his arm. She feigned a gasp, clutching her nose. “Oh, sister, it’s so cold, why are you wearing so little? Ethan, look, her hands are bleeding.” The malicious glee in her eyes was impossible to hide. Seven years ago, this woman had faked a fall, breaking her leg, and blamed it on me. Ethan believed her, forcing me to kneel and apologize. I refused. Pregnant and defiant, I was thrown out of his family home. “The money,” I demanded, my voice hoarse, my gaze fixed on Ethan. He sneered, pulling a wad of crimson bills from his leather wallet. Around three thousand. With a flick of his wrist, he didn’t hand them to me. Instead, he scattered them directly into the nearby black drum of waste engine oil. “You want the money?” “Fish it out yourself.” The manager, eager to please Ethan, kicked over a bucket of dirty water nearby. The greasy sludge splashed all over me. “Mr. Hill’s generosity! Aren’t you going to thank him?” But I did not hesitate. I knelt by the oil drum, plunging my hands into the nauseating, black sludge. One bill, two bills, three bills… The oil was foul and stung terribly on my raw, chapped skin. But I felt nothing. My mind was consumed by Carice. Carice was still in the hospital morgue. The attendant said if I didn’t pay to claim her by tonight, they would dispose of her as an unclaimed body. I meticulously retrieved each bill, wiping off the excess oil on my uniform. Ethan watched my desperate actions, his face growing darker with every moment. Suddenly, he strode forward, grabbing my collar and hauling me up from the oil drum. “Summer O’Connell, are you that desperate for money? Desperate enough to throw away your dignity?” He was furious. I forced a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “What’s dignity worth these days, Mr. Hill?” “Thank you for the charity.” He shoved me away. I lost my footing, my back slamming hard against the metal frame of the automatic car wash. A searing pain shot through my spine, as if it had broken. Ignoring the agony, I scrambled to grab the money scattered on the ground, then turned and ran. I dared not look back. Carice was waiting for me. I had to take her home. 2 Reeking of oil, I sprinted to the hospital. Passersby covered their noses, giving me a wide berth. Bursting into the morgue’s payment office, I thrust the wad of grimy bills through the slot. “I’m here to claim Carice Hill’s remains. This is the final payment.” The clerk behind the counter grimaced, picking up a bill with two disgusted fingers. “What is this? It’s all oil! The bill counter won’t even take it!” “How can I accept this?” The money was flung back at me, scattering across the floor. I panicked, frantically gathering the bills. “Please, just this once, I beg you, this is real money, it really is…” “My daughter has been lying in there for two days. It’s a cold freezer, and she hates the cold…” I knelt before the window, banging my head against the counter repeatedly. The clerk, though visibly uncomfortable, shook his head. “Ma’am, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but even the bank might not accept this. Please, just leave, don’t make a scene. It will be worse when security comes.” The clerk closed the window. I clutched the useless wad of bills, walking out of the hospital like a zombie. Night had fallen. I pulled out my phone, desperate to borrow money, to find someone to help. Scrolling through my contacts, I found only a handful of numbers. The socialites and trust fund kids who once fawned over me had all blocked me seven years ago. The only “friend” who answered, after listening to my desperate plea, simply said, “Summer, it’s not that I won’t lend you money. Ethan put out the word – anyone who helps you will regret it. Don’t blame me for not being loyal. You made your bed, now lie in it.” The call disconnected. The world went silent. I returned to my tiny, ten-square-meter basement rental. Before I even reached the door, I saw my landlord tossing my belongings outside. Carice’s tiny clothes, her tattered teddy bear, and my ill-fitting uniforms lay scattered in the mud. “Well, you’re finally back!” The landlord clutched her nose, pointing at the pile of junk. “Heard your daughter died at the hospital? What bad luck! Get your stuff and get out. I’m not renting this place anymore. Someone just died here, who’d want to live in it?” Rain was falling. It splattered on Carice’s favorite Winnie the Pooh bear. She had bought it with recycled cans, washing it countless times. It was old but clean. Now it was covered in mud. I rushed over, frantically scooping up the bear, trying to wipe away the mud with my sleeve. “Don’t throw it away! This is Carice’s!” “Get out! Just looking at you makes me sick!” The landlord shoved me hard, slamming the door shut. I fell back into the rain, clutching the muddy bear, clutching the useless, oil-soaked money. A raging fever blurred my vision. I heard Carice crying. She said, “Mommy, I’m cold.” She said, “Mommy, I want to go home. I want to sleep under a big tree.” I wiped the rain from my face. I couldn’t give up. Even if I died, I had to lay Carice to rest first. Ethan had blocked every path. So I would go to him. I would beg until he was satisfied. I heard Ethan was hosting a bachelor party at the “Twilight” club tonight, celebrating his engagement to Chloe. I staggered to my feet, tucking the Winnie the Pooh bear into my coat, and stumbled towards “Twilight.” “Twilight” was the city’s most exclusive, extravagant playground. Covered in oil and drenched from the rain, I was stopped by security guards at the door. “Where did this beggar come from? Get lost!” I dropped to my knees. “I need to see Ethan Hill. Please, just let me see Ethan Hill.” I kowtowed repeatedly. Ten minutes later, I was dragged into the luxurious private room. 3 The room reeked of stale smoke and expensive liquor. Ethan sat in the center of a plush leather sofa. “Well, well, isn’t it the ex-sister-in-law? What, car wash money not enough? Decided to try your luck here?” Laughter echoed, grating on my ears. I ignored them, walking straight to Ethan and kneeling again. My knees had long since gone numb. I pulled out the wad of money, still reeking of oil despite my attempts to clean it, and held it out in my palm. “This money… I can’t use it.” My voice trembled as I lowered my head, humiliated. “Mr. Hill, please, have mercy. Lift the ban. All I want is to buy Carice a burial plot. Once she’s laid to rest, I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.” Ethan didn’t take the money. “Summer O’Connell, your bastard child died?” Bastard. The word pierced me like a knife. “Her name was Carice.” “Good riddance. Saved her from growing up to be a nuisance.” My nails dug into my palms. I fought the urge to lunge at him and tear him apart. Chloe suddenly giggled, picking up a bottle of hard liquor from the table. “Ethan, sister looks so pitiful. Why don’t we help her out?” As she spoke, she motioned for a server to set up ten large beer mugs. They were for “depth charges”—high-proof liquor mixed with whiskey and energy drink. One could knock out a grown man. “Sister, money’s hard to come by these days. How about we play a game?” Chloe pointed at the drinks. “Five hundred a glass. You drink one, and Ethan will give you five hundred cash—clean money. Drink ten, and the ban is lifted immediately.” Ten glasses. Five thousand dollars. Exactly enough for a burial plot. But my body, ravaged by severe ulcers and unhealed postpartum complications, couldn’t handle even one glass, let alone ten. It would kill me. I did not hesitate. “Fine, I’ll drink.” I grabbed the first glass and tilted my head back, chugging it down. The fiery liquor burned my throat, and my stomach immediately cramped, making my vision blur with pain. “Cheers! Good one!” The people around cheered, egging me on. The second glass. The third. By the fourth, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I vomited a mouthful of bright red blood, mixed with the liquor, a horrifying sight. The private room fell silent for a moment. Ethan frowned, his fingers twitching instinctively. Chloe immediately stepped in front of him, blocking his view, and gasped dramatically, “Oh dear, sister is throwing up blood! Has she been drinking too much cheap liquor and ruined her stomach?” She turned to Ethan, pouting, “Ethan, it looks like sister really suffered for that scoundrel all these years.” At the mention of “scoundrel,” any ripple of concern in Ethan’s eyes vanished. He spoke coldly, “Keep going. Don’t stop until you finish.” I wiped the blood from my mouth. My hands trembled, unable to hold the glass steady. The fifth glass… The sixth… Each gulp felt like drinking battery acid. My vision swam, but I stared fixedly at the stack of cash on the table. By the eighth glass, I could no longer stand. I collapsed to the floor, convulsing violently. Blood poured continuously from my mouth, staining the expensive carpet. Was I dying? No, not yet. I hadn’t gotten the money. I struggled to crawl towards the table, my blood-soaked hands reaching for the cash. “Enough!” Ethan stood up, kicking the table over. Bottles crashed, shattering on the floor. He snatched the stack of money and violently threw it at my face. “Take the money, and get out!” My hands shaking, I picked up the bills one by one, clutching them to my chest. Chloe’s high heel stomped onto my hand, the heel grinding into my raw, chapped skin. Excruciating pain. “Sister, now that you have the money, go buy a coffin. Don’t die here and make a mess of Ethan’s club.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. “Your short-lived daughter deserved it.” I turned, dragging my broken body, and slowly, painstakingly, left the private room. 4 I crawled out of “Twilight.” The rain continued to fall, washing away the blood and alcohol from my body. I clutched the money tightly, even as my consciousness blurred and my stomach screamed in pain. I had to pick up Carice. I had to take her to the cemetery. I claimed Carice’s body from the hospital morgue and took her to the funeral home. After paying the fees, the staff looked at me as if I were insane. But I finally held the small urn. It was so light. My Carice. Born weighing only four pounds, she wasted away to skin and bones when she died. Burned to ash, she was barely this much. “Carice, Mommy’s taking you home.” “We’ll live in a big house, with big trees and flowers. No more sleeping in the basement.” Clutching the urn, I stumbled towards West Hill Cemetery. It was the most auspicious burial ground in the city. Carice had seen it in a picture book once and said she wanted to live there to see the stars. I couldn’t afford a plot there, so I could only buy one in the furthest corner. But it was enough. As long as she could rest in peace. By the time I reached the cemetery gates, the rain had stopped. Dawn was just breaking. I saw a familiar black Rolls-Royce parked there. It was Ethan’s car. Before I could react, Ethan and Chloe emerged, surrounded by a phalanx of bodyguards. They were there to inspect the Hill family mausoleum. Chloe’s eyes immediately landed on the box in my arms. She shrieked, dramatically hiding in Ethan’s embrace. “Ah! Ethan! That’s an urn! How unlucky!” “It’s our feng shui inspection day. She’s crashing it with a dead person’s ashes. Is she trying to curse us?” Ethan’s face darkened when he saw me. “Summer O’Connell, are you haunting me now?” “Is this really a place you should be?” I clutched the box tighter, retreating two steps. “I paid for this… This is a public cemetery. I have the right to be here.” “I just want to bury Carice. Once she’s buried, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you anymore.” I explained repeatedly, my voice hoarse and desperate. But Ethan didn’t believe me. “What Carice? I think you’re just carrying an empty box to gain sympathy and extort money!” In the chaos, Chloe suddenly lunged forward, pretending I pushed her to the ground. “Ow! My stomach… Ethan, she pushed me!” Ethan’s eyes hardened. To protect Chloe, he shoved me. “Crazy woman!” The push was forceful. I was already at my breaking point, my foot slipped, and I fell heavily onto the concrete. The urn flew from my grasp. I watched helplessly as the cheap wooden box shattered on the hard pavement, splitting into pieces. The gray-white ashes scattered into the muddy puddles. A gust of wind blew, scattering them further. They mixed with the grime, making it impossible to distinguish dirt from bone. I lay on the ground, stunned for two seconds. Then, a heart-wrenching wail tore from my throat. “Carice!!!” I scrambled forward on my hands and knees. I desperately scooped up the muddy water. “Carice… don’t be scared, Mommy’s here… Mommy will clean you up…” I cupped a handful of soaking wet mud, trying to separate the ashes from it. But it was impossible. It was powder. How could I separate it? My hands were covered in blood, my fingernails broken, yet all I could scoop up was dirty mud. “Why…” “Why won’t you even let her rest in peace?” I lifted my head, my face streaked with tears and mud, my eyes bloodshot as I stared at Ethan. Ethan froze. He looked at the tragic puddle of pale ash on the ground, feeling an unfamiliar chill creep over him for the first time. The sudden panic made him instinctively take a half step back. “She’s faking it! It must be the ashes of a cat or dog.” Chloe continued to fan the flames. I ignored her. I just stared at Ethan. Suddenly, I laughed. “Ethan Hill.” “Do you know who this is?”

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The annual family meeting was meant to discuss everyone’s contributions to the corporate empire. Dividends were merit-based, but the family trust had officially labeled me the sole “negative asset.” Not only was I denied any annual payout, they were also voting to remove my name from the family register. It made no sense. The subsidiary I ran had just secured our largest overseas distribution channel ever. My division alone contributed eighty percent of the group’s profits. How had I become a liability? My aunt Vivian sneered contemptuously. “We only got those channels because Tiffany ran herself ragged networking.” “You, meanwhile, embezzled corporate funds to wine and dine your little boy toys. And you still talk about contribution?” “Out of respect for our bloodline, we’re only asking you to compensate each household two hundred fifty thousand dollars. Refuse, and don’t blame us for getting ugly.” Instantly, everyone joined in, cornering me and demanding payment. Even my fiancé Oliver looked at me coldly. “Quinn, if not for your cousin stepping in, your reckless spending would have sunk the company. None of us would get a dime. Just pay, and they might let you keep your dignity. If they kick you out, I’ll be dragged down with you.” I looked down at the financial summary on the table. Beside my cousin Tiffany’s name, her “contribution dividend” was listed as ten million dollars. I gave a soft laugh and shook my head. “No. I’m leaving the Montgomery Group entirely.” What these vultures didn’t know was that the company’s technical lifeline and every top-tier client answered to one person alone: me. 1 “You ungrateful little brat!” Aunt Vivian slammed her wine glass down on the table so hard the crystal shattered. A sharp shard flew up, slicing the back of my hand. “Look at your expenses for this quarter alone! Over half a million dollars! Are you entertaining clients, or are you just living it up on our dime?” “The supply chain vendors are all old friends of the family. Tiffany handles all the outward-facing platform work. And you? For every dollar you make, the family has to cover ten dollars of your wasteful spending. A spoiled parasite like you is the biggest negative asset the Montgomery family has ever seen!” “Agreeing to let you run Nova Corp was the biggest mistake of my life!” Hearing this, a dry, humorless smile touched my lips. When Tiffany screwed up the pricing algorithm on our e-commerce platform and got all our best-selling links suspended, I was the one who stayed awake for forty-eight hours straight, trembling from exhaustion, coding the fix. When our suppliers boycotted us, I was the one who stood in the freezing rain outside the client’s headquarters for a week just to win back a single contract. When Nova Corp was on the verge of bankruptcy, a company of hundreds pulling in less than three thousand dollars a month while bleeding a half-million-dollar interest loan, I drained my personal savings to bridge the gap. I turned a dying husk into a highly profitable enterprise in just three months. When they were begging me on their knees to save the business, they certainly were not singing this tune. I quietly wiped the bead of blood from my hand. Before I could even open my mouth, Tiffany blinked her heavily lashed eyes and offered a sickeningly sweet smile. “Honestly, it wasn’t just my hard work. Every time we ran a platform beta test, all the aunts and uncles pitched in to help. It made us so much more efficient. In marketing, time is money. The glory of the Montgomery Group is built on our family working together as one!” The moment those words left her mouth, every relative in the room beamed with pride. “Oh, our Tiffany is so thoughtful! Not like some people, throwing Montgomery money around like water just to make herself look important, never acknowledging anyone else’s hard work!” “Exactly. Some people will never learn. No wonder she tries to steal credit when she has achieved nothing! I really don’t know how her mother raised her.” “You can’t entirely blame her mother. A child’s lack of discipline falls on the father… and well, her dad did die early, didn’t he?” I shot to my feet, my chair screeching against the floor, glaring at them with absolute fury. Vivian immediately pointed a manicured finger at me, her voice shrill. “What do you think you’re doing?! Don’t forget you are surrounded by your elders!” Oliver quickly grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Quinn, don’t throw a tantrum. Your aunt isn’t actually going to kick you out of the family. Everyone just thinks you need to feel the pinch. Otherwise, you will never learn to stop hemorrhaging money. No matter how much profit Tiffany brings in, it cannot sustain your lavish lifestyle.” “Just lower your head, apologize, and promise you will stop dragging us down. Pay the compensation, and I will personally beg your aunt for leniency. We are family, they won’t back you into a corner.” I froze, staring at him in utter disbelief. My fiancé of five years was actually standing against me, telling me to swallow my pride and apologize to these parasites? In the span of my silence, the insults and accusations rained down on me like hail. Someone even threw a silver fork at my face, screaming at me to get out of the Montgomery house. I mocked myself internally. For two years, I spent countless nights patching security loopholes. I stayed on international calls until dawn, securing overseas channels. I emptied my own bank accounts just so Vivian wouldn’t end up on a federal debtor’s list. And my reward? Being branded a negative asset. Looking at this pack of rabid wolves calling themselves my family, I finally understood that words were useless here. I shook off Oliver’s grip and gave a faint, icy smile. “Keep your leniency. I, Quinn, voluntarily withdraw from the Montgomery family.” The sound of another glass shattering against the wall mixed with Vivian’s furious screech. “You arrogant bitch! If you walk out that door, you are never stepping foot in the Montgomery Group again!” I did not say a word. I turned on my heel and walked out the heavy oak doors without looking back. If the Montgomerys were too blind to see my sacrifices, too stupid to realize that every single client and resource was loyal to me alone… then so be it. I would take my hundreds of millions in profit and build my own empire. When I finally got home, the food on the dining table had long gone cold. My mother was frantically tearing through drawers, her face pale with panic. “Mom, what are you looking for?” I asked, exhaustion thick in my voice. Tears welled in her eyes as she shoved a heavy metal lockbox into my arms. “Sweetheart, this is every penny I have saved. If I sell the two storefronts downtown, we can scrape together maybe two hundred thousand. You take this and pay them a fraction of what they want. We can slowly pay off the rest of the compensation!” “I will go beg your aunt Vivian tomorrow! If the family kicks you out, we will have nothing left. And your wedding… Oliver will call off the wedding!” A loud ringing filled my ears as a surge of pure, unadulterated rage boiled over in my veins. Ever since my father passed away from illness, my mother had lost her anchor. She lived in constant fear. Vivian had used that against her, manipulating my mother with just a few honeyed words. Vivian had convinced my mother that I was a sickly, useless girl with no real prospects, and that the Montgomery family was doing us an immense favor by taking me in. I had walked away from an executive CEO position at a Fortune 500 tech firm just to take over the dying mess that was Nova Corp, solely to give my mother peace of mind. And now, Vivian was using the exact same psychological warfare to torture her again. I did not even need to ask what Vivian had said on the phone. She had inverted the truth, erased my achievements, and painted me as a promiscuous, reckless spender driving the company into the ground. Thinking about the pitifully low salary I drew, and the absolute bare-minimum health insurance the family trust provided for my mother, my blood turned to liquid fire. I grasped my mother’s trembling hands, my voice deadly calm. “Mom. From this day forward, I am never going back to the Montgomerys. But I promise you, I will make sure you live a hundred times better than any of them.” The next morning, I returned to the Nova Corp skyscraper to clear out my office. The moment I stepped into the lobby, a cloud of concrete dust choked my lungs, sending me into a coughing fit. Smash. A brick, knocked loose by a renovation crew, plummeted from the scaffolding and narrowly missed my shoulder, shattering by my feet. “Watch where you’re walking! Are you blind?” a worker yelled. “What is going on here?” I snapped instinctively. “Who authorized heavy construction in the main lobby?” As the words left my mouth, Tiffany strutted out of the executive elevator, flanked by a massive entourage of employees. The moment they saw me, the sycophantic smiles on their faces vanished. They shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at me. Tiffany looked me up and down, a mocking lilt to her voice. “I was wondering who was causing a scene. Turns out it’s just my former cousin.” “Now that the platform revenue has crossed twenty million under my leadership, the company is entering a new era. It is time for a complete facelift!” I understood immediately. Tiffany was putting on a theatrical display. She wanted every employee to know that the crown had passed to her. Those very same employees, people who had fought in the trenches beside me, caught her drift perfectly. They turned their gazes on me, eyes dripping with disdain. Jessica, the Director of Marketing, stood with her hands on her hips right next to Tiffany. “Ms. Montgomery, you have incredible taste! This new aesthetic is going to boost our morale tenfold! Not like the old days, when certain people were too cheap to invest in the office, but threw tens of thousands at luxury restaurants, yacht rentals, and sketchy phone bills!” “Exactly! Let’s be honest, we all stayed because of Ms. Montgomery’s vision. If we had to keep following a certain someone, we’d be ‘negative assets’ for the rest of our lives! Hahaha!” The HR Director tossed a plastic visitor badge at my chest. “Honestly, Ms. Montgomery is just being merciful. She said you could stay on as a junior secretary out of pity. If it were up to anyone else, security would have tossed you into the street by now!” Their laughter and jeers felt like jagged knives sliding between my ribs. Jessica was a distant relative on my mother’s side. When I took over Nova Corp, she was working at a real estate office, getting harassed by clients daily. Her deadbeat husband had racked up massive gambling debts and forced her to pay them off. When she couldn’t, he broke her nose and put her in the hospital. She was so desperate for cash she got into a physical brawl with a rival agent, ending up with her face clawed bloody. The rival’s wealthy backer pulled strings and had Jessica thrown in jail. I was the one who bailed her out. I gave her a second chance at Nova. I intentionally funneled massive corporate accounts under her name so she could clear her debts in one lump sum. I hired the lawyers that helped her win her divorce and get a restraining order. Back then, she had cried until her eyes were swollen, swearing on her life that she would follow me to the gates of hell. And now? Jessica was acting as Tiffany’s loyal lapdog, leading the charge to push me off a cliff. I gave her warmth when she was freezing, and she paid me back by throwing stones while I was down. I forced myself to remain expressionless. Turning a deaf ear to their taunts, I walked into my office, only to find it completely stripped. In the corner, a black trash bag sat with its mouth splayed open. Inside were the personal items I kept in my office suite. My tailored blazers, my toothbrush, even my passport, all covered in construction dust. Just as I bent down to retrieve them, a heavy leather boot stepped deliberately onto the bag. I looked up and met Oliver’s eyes. Compared to my exhausted state, he looked incredibly smug and vibrant. “Quinn, stop throwing these little tantrums. Just lower your head, say you were wrong, and you can go back to your comfortable little life. If you just follow Tiffany’s lead, I am sure you won’t be a negative asset anymore.” “The company will keep spinning without you. But aside from the Montgomery family, who else is going to tolerate your uselessness?” He crushed my dignity with the casual weight of his boot. In the past, my heart would have shattered. But now, the waters of my mind were dead calm. Because the moment they labeled me a negative asset, I finally saw clearly. Oliver, just like the Montgomerys, had never seen me as a human being. I stood up straight, a razor-sharp smirk forming on my lips. “If you want to stay and be a parasite for the Montgomerys, that is your choice. From this moment on, we are done. I don’t need a pathetic excuse for a man like you.” Oliver’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching. “Quinn! I am trying to save you! I looked the other way when you were out partying and flirting with male models on corporate trips. Now you are being swept out like trash, and I am begging them to show you mercy. How dare you speak to me like that?” I did not want to waste another breath on him. I turned toward the door, but Tiffany stepped into my path, leaning her entire body into Oliver’s chest. The sight of them pressing against each other made my stomach churn. “If you want to throw away your only lifeline, fine! You won’t even listen to Oliver! Who would want a piece of garbage like you anyway? If my aunt hadn’t insisted on marrying your loser father, you wouldn’t even exist! You deserve to be a negative asset! You will rot at the bottom forever!” A volcanic heat surged through my veins. I stared dead into Tiffany and Oliver’s eyes, my gaze freezing cold. Tiffany threw her head back and laughed, calling me a stray dog that not even a homeless man would touch. It was a pity they couldn’t read the lethal intent in my eyes. And it was a pity they had no idea what kind of hell was about to rain down on them. Leaving the Nova Corp skyscraper, I stepped out into a sudden, torrential downpour without a single ounce of regret. Though the rain soaked me to the bone, it felt like it was washing away years of toxic grime. I felt incredibly light. I was shedding the dead weight. It was time to start over. By the afternoon, the rain cleared. I went to the registry and expedited the paperwork for a new corporate entity. The news of my departure from Nova Corp sent shockwaves through our industry network within hours. Headhunters and rival marketing firms immediately started digging. My phone buzzed relentlessly with over a hundred connection requests on social media. Before accepting a single one, I logged into Nova Corp’s encrypted financial database. I initiated a full backup of every revenue stream, expense report, and ledger I had managed since taking over. Every single transaction was documented with crystal clarity. Anyone looking at the hard data would instantly see that the “extravagant spending” they accused me of was barely a drop in the ocean compared to the hundreds of millions I brought in. After securely transferring the encrypted files to my legal team, I opened the master control panel of Nova’s e-commerce platform. With a single click, I unbound my administrator credentials, severing my digital footprint completely. Before I could even log out of the communication software, I noticed I had already been kicked from every single Nova Corp work chat. I let out a dark chuckle. At least it saved me the trouble of leaving them one by one. I accepted the dozens of friend requests. The messages were nearly identical. Every major firm wanted to poach me as their Chief Marketing Officer or General Manager. The lowest base salary offered was a hundred times what the Montgomery family paid me. But I declined them all. Instead, I called Arthur, a former university classmate who controlled a massive network of supply chain resources. In the past, out of loyalty to the Montgomerys and to avoid Oliver’s insecure jealousy, I had rejected Arthur’s partnership offers time and time again. When I told him I had severed ties with Nova Corp, the line went dead silent for two full minutes. Then, his voice crackled through the speaker, thick with poorly concealed triumph. “Fucking finally.” Within hours, we had drafted the framework of our new empire. We would fast-track the development of a proprietary platform. I would send formal notices to every client in my Rolodex, officially announcing my departure from Nova Corp. Whether they chose to stay with Montgomery or follow me was entirely up to them. Furthermore, exactly one week after our platform went live, we would host an exclusive, invite-only gala for our top distributors. I also coordinated a strategy with Arthur. Any legacy client from Nova Corp who migrated to our new platform would retain their top-tier status, plus an additional, highly lucrative “welcome back” incentive package. Arthur agreed without hesitation. We divided the workload and dove headfirst into the grind. Meanwhile, by that evening, two trending hashtags had skyrocketed to the top of the financial and tech forums. #NovaCorpLeadStepsDown #MassExodusOnNovaPlatform The internet was flooded with wild speculation about why I left. People were tagging my official accounts, demanding a statement. I stayed silent. But soon enough, a highly upvoted comment surfaced and pinned itself to the top of the discussion. @ran_truth: The former director, Quinn, embezzled Montgomery Group funds to live a lavish lifestyle and hire male escorts. When the board found out, she refused to admit it. They just asked her to pay back a fraction of what she stole, but she threw a massive tantrum at a family banquet and quit. Her cousin, who is actually competent, had to step in to save the sinking ship. The very next day, Quinn broke into the office and physically assaulted her cousin and her own fiancé! Attached below was a high-definition, closely cropped video of the lobby confrontation. Within minutes, thousands of comments flooded in. “Corporate parasite,” “shameless gold digger,” “she’s probably the one sabotaging the user database out of spite!” The vitriol was deafening. I massaged my temples, letting out a heavy sigh. I knew exactly who owned that burner account. It was Oliver. What the idiot didn’t know was that since college, I had used a dummy account to track his digital footprint. I had archived every single photo and post he had ever uploaded before he scrubbed them. I took a fresh screenshot. But this time, it wasn’t a picture of him posing at a bar. It was absolute, concrete proof that he had manufactured evidence to frame me for another woman. Just as the internet mob reached a fever pitch, Tiffany struck while the iron was hot, releasing a formal public statement. She lamented the “unfortunate family tragedy” and tearfully urged old platform users not to be “brainwashed” by my lies. Riding the wave of viral traffic, she announced that Nova Corp would be hosting a massive press conference and contract renewal ceremony the following week. “On the day of the press conference, we will be joined by our newest overseas channel titan, Mr. Harrison! We cordially invite all our esteemed clients and distributors to attend!” She looked as proud as if she were accepting a Nobel Prize in Economics, her face practically glowing with unearned arrogance. I closed out of her trending video and accepted a direct video call request from Mr. Harrison himself. I wondered if Tiffany would still be smiling on the day of her little gala. For an entire week, Nova Corp poured millions into promoting their press conference. They invited every distant branch of the Montgomery family, local politicians, major corporate clients, and over a hundred media outlets. A week later, the doors opened at the Montgomery Group’s grand banquet hall. Dozens of servers in crisp uniforms lined the entrance. A plush red carpet stretched for hundreds of yards, leading straight to the main street. The entire hall was illuminated by dazzling laser lights. The distant relatives Tiffany had invited were practically salivating, chatting loudly about how much their dividends would multiply this year. Journalists set up a barricade of cameras and microphones. The event was even being broadcast live on the massive digital billboard in the center of the financial district. In the center of the hall, Tiffany stood wearing a custom velvet gown dripping in diamonds. Oliver, my ex-fiancé, was looking at her with sickening devotion, letting her lean heavily against his side. They looked like the ultimate power couple, passionately detailing their utopian business roadmap from the podium. The clock ticked. The ceremonial bell-ringing, originally scheduled for 10:58 AM, was delayed. The distributors hadn’t shown up. Twenty minutes passed. The only people walking around the floor were hired event staff. Several elderly Montgomery board members were shifting uncomfortably in their seats, their backs aching from waiting. A couple of them had flat-out fallen asleep on the VIP sofas. A camera crane swept past, broadcasting a shot of an old uncle drooling directly onto the city’s central billboard. 11:30 AM. The media reporters were getting restless. The murmurs grew louder and more agitated. A veteran journalist finally lost his patience. “Ms. Montgomery, it’s 11:30. We are half an hour behind schedule! If you don’t start now, we have other breaking news to cover!” “We’ve been waiting all morning. Our time is valuable too!” “I’m on a deadline. Pack it up, guys, we’re leaving!” Seeing the press corps threatening a walkout, Tiffany panicked. She furiously signaled her assistants and staff to call the distributors again, desperately promising that anyone who showed up would get a year of platform fees waived for free! She then gave the MC a frantic nod to commence. The MC’s face paled, but he forced a bright smile and stepped up to the microphone, shouting into a room devoid of actual clients. “Distinguished guests! Nova Corp partners! Family! Our ceremony officially begins!” “Please welcome our visionary leader, Ms. Tiffany Montgomery, to the stage!” Tiffany forced a radiant smile, waving enthusiastically at a sea of empty chairs. Just as she reached the microphone, her lead assistant sprinted onto the stage, completely panicked. Because the mic was still live, her frantic, breathless voice echoed through the massive speakers for everyone to hear. “Ms. Montgomery! The phones at the main office are exploding! The distributors… they said they are never renewing their contracts with Nova Corp!” “What?!” Feedback screeched from the sound system. Tiffany practically leaped off the stage, grabbing the assistant by the collar. “Didn’t I tell you to call them and offer a whole year for free?! Why isn’t anyone here?!” The assistant stammered, terrified. “The distributors are saying the backend system is completely corrupted! They submitted bug reports days ago and no one fixed them. Customers are paying for orders, but the system isn’t processing the shipments! They aren’t just canceling their contracts… they are filing class-action lawsuits for lost revenue!” “What?! Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?!” The assistant shrank back. “I tried to tell you three days ago, but you were busy shopping for a new sports car with Mr. Oliver, so you told me to…” Tiffany’s face flushed a violent, ugly shade of red. “What are you standing here for?! Give me my damn phone!” The assistant shakily handed over the device. The journalists below, seeing Tiffany’s complete meltdown, immediately sensed blood in the water. The whispers turned into loud demands. “What’s going on here? Are you playing us for fools?” “Ms. Montgomery! We didn’t come here to watch you play pretend CEO!” Being publicly humiliated, Tiffany snapped. She pointed a shaking finger at a female reporter and shrieked, “Who the hell do you think you are?! You should be grateful I even invited you! How dare you bark at me in my own building?!” The atmosphere instantly turned hostile. The press corps closed ranks, furiously condemning Tiffany’s arrogance. Cameras flashed rapidly, capturing every vein popping in her red, screaming face. “Let’s go! We have our headline! This company is a complete joke!” The hall devolved into total chaos. The Montgomery relatives couldn’t sit still anymore. “Tiffany, why is everyone leaving? The event hasn’t even started!” “Yeah, we are relying on this for our year-end bonuses!” Tiffany, who had just been chewed out by her mother Vivian earlier that morning, was entirely out of patience. “Shut up! You greedy old fossils! Go ask your own useless kids for bonuses! Stop bothering me!” The relatives froze, staring at her in shock, before slamming their hands on the tables in outrage. “Excuse me?! That is not what you promised us last week! You said you had massive international clients coming today and our dividends would triple!” In a blind rage, Tiffany kicked over a towering champagne pyramid. Glass shattered everywhere. “Get out! All of you! You do absolutely nothing and expect to get paid?! Security, throw them all out!” In her hysterical breakdown, Tiffany had completely forgotten one crucial detail. At that very moment, the live feed was still broadcasting her psychotic meltdown to the massive digital screen in the center of the city.

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I am the infamous “Mad Heiress.” Once, someone mocked my late mother. I shattered his kneecaps and made him kowtow a thousand times at her grave. Someone kicked my dog. I released a thousand snakes into her house, photographed her wetting herself in fear, and posted the images everywhere. Since then, everyone avoids me. Later, on vacation in B City, my wallet was stolen. I was about to have my guards break the thief’s hands when a man appeared. He pinned the thief down, got my wallet, and tossed it back. “Kid, traveling alone? Pickpockets target out-of-towners. Be careful.” In that moment, my heart fluttered. I learned he was B University’s most popular guy. He liked “good girls”—sweet, obedient, innocent. The next day, I transferred to B University. I hid my true self and approached him. I made him bento boxes, showing the burns on my fingers. I handed him water and towels at basketball, always lowering my gaze shyly. We got together. I kept up the act for three years. My best friend said I seemed brainwashed. For him, I endured anything. Until a video arrived on my phone. The always aloof man was riding a motorcycle in a downpour. A girl with fiery red hair and bold tattoos sat behind him. The caption read: “The one he loved all his youth is back. A good girl like you should step aside now.” Step down? You want me to step down? Do you think I’m a pushover? 1 It was midnight, and River still hadn’t returned. I crushed the walnut I was rolling in my hand and called him. The moment he answered, my voice was choked with tears. “River, it’s thundering outside. I’m so scared. When are you coming back?” If my friends back in A City saw me acting like this, their jaws would drop to the floor. The noisy background on his end disappeared abruptly. His gentle voice came through. “I have some things to handle at the company. I’ll be late. You go to sleep first.” “But I’m too scared to sleep. How about I come to the company to find you…” “No!” he refused sharply, without hesitation. In the three years we’d been together, he had never spoken to me in that tone. A chill ran through my heart. Perhaps realizing his tone was too harsh, he quickly tried to smooth things over. “Willow, there are other colleagues here. It wouldn’t look good if you came. Even though it’s my family’s company, my dad is testing me. I’m almost through the probationary period. Once this is over, I promise I’ll spend more time with you.” Faint, suppressed laughter echoed from his end of the phone. My eyes grew cold. Did he really think I was an idiot? I refused to accept this. Why should I hand over the man I had worked so hard to get, just because his so-called “first love” had returned? For me, Willow, when I want something, I will get it by any means necessary. Let’s see exactly where he was in the middle of the night. My men quickly tracked his location. It was a bar. The private room’s door was slightly ajar. Inside, a group of men and women—River’s friends—were gathered. They were cheering loudly, pushing the girl from the video towards him. “River, aren’t we great brothers? We brought the person you’ve been pining for right to you.” “You two were together in high school. If Sierra hadn’t gone abroad with her parents, you would never have broken up.” “Yeah, what does Willow have to do with anything?” “Everyone at school thinks you like good girls. But only we know you chose her because she is the exact opposite of Sierra! It was the only way you could stop thinking about her!” “Now that the real deal is back, when are you going to dump that boring good girl?” River fell silent. Sierra smiled and spoke up. “River and I are in the past. I think his current girlfriend is quite nice. River likes her a lot, too. I bet he’s already forgotten about me…” “No, don’t talk nonsense,” River retorted anxiously, terrified she might misunderstand. The room fell silent. My heart plummeted straight to the bottom. After a brief pause, the room erupted again. They shoved River and Sierra closer together, chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Right as the atmosphere reached its peak, I pushed the door open and walked in. Facing a room full of shocked, dumbfounded faces, I tilted my head, looking the picture of pure innocence. “What are you guys playing? Can I join in?” “Willow!” River was the first to react, shooting up from the sofa. His hand, which had just been resting on Sierra’s shoulder, suddenly seemed to burn him. “Why are you here… were you following me?” His face turned livid. 2 I shook my head innocently. “No, I was just too scared at home and wanted to find somewhere with more people.” River paused, then said anxiously, “So you came to a bar alone? Do you know how messy this place is? Why didn’t you call me? You…” “River, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Sierra raised an eyebrow, smiling. A flash of embarrassment crossed River’s face. He had no idea how much I had overheard. He gave a brief introduction. From beginning to end, Sierra’s eyes were fixed on me. Suddenly, she patted the sofa beside her, inviting me to sit. Before River could stop her, I sat down. Sierra took a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into my face, her red lips curving upward. “So this is the good little girl River has been spoiling for the past three years. You do look quite obedient.” I snatched the cigarette from her fingers, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and smiled. “No smoking indoors, okay?” How dare she make me inhale secondhand smoke. If it were the old me, I would have ground the cigarette butt into her face. A dark glint flashed in Sierra’s eyes. “I heard you’ve never been to a bar, and you don’t drink or smoke. Are we scaring you?” As she spoke, she handed me a glass of orange juice. Before I could even touch it, she let go. The glass shattered on the floor. The crisp sound of breaking glass silenced the room for a moment. Sierra hissed in pain, grabbing a tissue to press against her foot, which had been cut by a shard of glass. She waved her hand, looking apologetic. “Sorry. If you didn’t want orange juice, you should have said so. I’ll get you something else.” “Willow!” River strode over and yanked me away from Sierra. He used so much force that I frowned in pain. In our three years together, he was always terrified I might get a single scratch. It was no exaggeration to say he treated me like I was made of glass. If someone accidentally bumped into me, he would hold a grudge and retaliate. A wave of bitterness washed over me, and my eyes reddened slightly. But now, he was already crouching in front of Sierra, carefully tending to her cut. His friends leaned in, exaggerating the situation. “Oh my god, the cut is pretty deep. She’s bleeding so much.” “Even if the room is a bit dim, it’s not like you couldn’t catch the glass.” “Who knows if she really didn’t see it or if she did it on purpose.” These people had never liked me. When they first found out River was dating me, some of them had openly and covertly mocked me, saying I wasn’t good enough for him. It was true. In B City, I was just a girl from an ordinary family, while River was a wealthy young master. I played the role of a quiet, obedient girl, which meant I didn’t fit in with their crowd, so naturally, they looked down on me. But I didn’t care about any of that, as long as River loved me. Having stopped Sierra’s bleeding, River walked over to me, his face dark. I pursed my lips and said softly, “River, I didn’t drop the glass on purpose…” 3 River used to believe me. When I first transferred to B University, a girl who hated me hid her necklace in my bag and accused me of stealing it. I had a hundred ways to prove my innocence and destroy her in return. But before I could do anything, River stormed into my classroom and told everyone I wasn’t a thief. Leaning against his broad chest, I suddenly felt that as long as he believed in me, nothing else mattered. Later, through whatever strings he pulled, the girl admitted she framed me and left the university. He had said, “You’re so good. How could you ever do something like that?” I tugged at his sleeve, looking at him with pleading eyes. But the next second, River shook off my hand. “Willow, apologize to Sierra.” My mind went blank for a second. “What?” He looked at me and repeated it. “Apologize to Sierra.” A ball of fire erupted in my chest, and my fists clenched. I almost couldn’t hold back my true nature, but I forced it down. I continued to play the victim, squeezing out a few tears. “I didn’t do it. Why should I apologize?” “Forget it, River,” Sierra interjected. “Maybe the room is too dark, and she really didn’t see it.” River frowned. “You’re an important friend of mine. I can’t just stand by and watch you be wronged.” It felt like a needle had pierced my heart. In the past, if I shed a single tear, River would be so frantic he’d want to offer me the world. Now, he only cared about defending someone else. I sneered inwardly. Wronged? Who was really being wronged here? “Willow, if you don’t apologize, I won’t go on the graduation trip with you.” “Fine, then we won’t go.” River froze, his eyes full of shock. He knew how much I had been looking forward to this trip. I had started planning it a year ago. From domestic spots to international destinations, I had meticulously mapped out every leg of the journey. What to eat, what to play, where to stay—I filled three thick notebooks. I had even joked that not even the apocalypse could stop me from going. He had laughed along, promising he’d go with me no matter what. But for Sierra, his promise vanished in an instant. After saying that, I walked over to Sierra. I picked up a shard of glass from the floor and slashed it hard across my own hand. Blood welled up instantly. It looked far more terrifying than the cut on Sierra’s foot. Gasps filled the room. Sierra was stunned, staring at me like she had seen a ghost. River was horrified, yelling, “What are you doing?!” “River, I told you, I won’t admit to something I didn’t do.” I held up my bleeding hand and smiled. “But since you care about her so much, this should be enough, right?” With that, I turned and left the bar. On the way back, I received a call from my dad. “Sweetheart, how are things in B City? Isn’t it time to think about coming home?” Looking at the glaring cut on my hand, I suddenly felt bored with it all. “I think I’ve had enough playing here.” I agreed with my dad that as soon as my graduation project was finished, I would return to A City. He happily announced he would throw a grand party for me. I knew the old man just wanted an excuse to scout for potential marriage alliances. That night, I moved out of the apartment I shared with River and went back to the dorms. River apparently didn’t expect me to be this angry. He bought my favorite cakes and flowers and had them sent to my classroom repeatedly. I gave them all to my classmates. He sent over a hundred text messages, explaining that he only saw Sierra as a friend and that I was the one he truly loved. I didn’t reply to a single one. On my way back to the dorm, he blocked my path. “Willow, are you still angry?” “I admit I went too far that night. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” “I bought the tickets. Let’s go on our graduation trip.” 4 He spoke earnestly, even saying he had already packed my bags for me. I had planned this graduation trip for a long time. Whether River was suitable to be my future husband—perhaps this trip would give me the answer. After a moment of internal struggle, I finally nodded. River excitedly pulled me into his car. On the way to the airport, he talked animatedly, seeming like the River from before Sierra returned. I wondered to myself, was I just overthinking things? Was his relationship with Sierra truly just friendship? When we arrived at the airport, he settled me in and ran off to buy me hot coffee. An hour passed, and he still hadn’t returned. The airport announcements started broadcasting our flight information. I called him, but his phone was off. I began to worry that something had happened to him. My men reported that River was in a fight in an alley near the airport. I didn’t have time to wonder why he was there; I immediately rushed over. From a distance, I saw River, his head covered in blood, shielding Sierra behind him. Facing him were five or six young thugs wielding metal pipes. “River! Hand over that bitch behind you, and we’ll spare your life!” “She conned our boss out of his money and his feelings. She’s not getting away with this!” River was already swaying on his feet, but he forced himself to stay standing. “As long as I have a breath left in me, you won’t touch a hair on her head!” My heart ached sharply. But the situation was urgent. I stood where I was and shouted toward them, “I’ve called the police! If you don’t leave now, it’ll be too late!” River looked shocked when he saw me. “Willow! What are you doing here… Run!” One of the thugs rolled his eyes, realizing what was going on, and quickly darted forward, grabbing my shoulder. “This little chick is yours too? Young Master River, aren’t you a bit too greedy?” “How about this? Let’s play a game. Choose one. How about it?” River’s face turned ashen at the thug’s words. I remained expressionless. My bodyguards were lurking in the shadows; these thugs couldn’t hurt me. But I was suddenly very curious. If forced to choose, who would River pick? “River, don’t worry about me! Go save Willow! She’s your girlfriend!” Sierra suddenly shouted from behind him. “They came for me anyway. If they want to kill me or torture me, let them.” Biting her lip hard, Sierra pushed River toward me. River stumbled forward, suddenly snapped out of his daze, and fiercely grabbed Sierra’s hand. “Are you crazy?! How could I just leave you?!” “Then… what about Willow?” Sierra looked toward me, a flash of triumph quickly crossing her eyes. “Willow…” River met my eyes, then suddenly looked away guiltily. My heart sank into the abyss. He didn’t say a word, but I already knew his choice. A bitter smile touched my lips. River, you really… disappoint me time and time again. “I choose Sierra. She’s injured,” he said. He added guiltily, “Willow, wait for me. Once I get Sierra to safety, I’ll come right back to save you!” With that, he hauled Sierra onto his back and ran off into the distance. Watching his figure fade away, the light in my eyes completely died. Did he not consider what would happen to a defenseless girl left alone with a group of thugs? Perhaps he did, he just couldn’t bear to let Sierra face it. 5 “This guy River really has no humanity. If I’m not mistaken, you’re his girlfriend, right?” “Abandoning his current girlfriend for an old flame… River is no good either. Hey, pretty girl, why don’t you submit to me?” “Hehe, let me go first… Ah!” Men in black suits swarmed from all directions, instantly taking down the thugs. I brushed off the spots on my clothes where they had touched me and said coldly, “Cripple their arms and legs.” “Yes, ma’am!” One agonizing scream after another echoed from behind me, accompanied by the roar of an airplane engine overhead. The flight we were supposed to take soared into the sky, gradually disappearing into the clouds. Back at the university, I blocked out all outside information and locked myself in my dorm for several days and nights until I finally completed my graduation project. While booking my flight back to A City, a news headline caught my eye. [Gen Z Jewelry Designer Sierra Reaches the Pinnacle on Her First Exhibition! Multiple Pieces Auctioned for Astronomical Prices!] Sierra? The background check I had run on her indeed showed she had studied jewelry design abroad. But from what I knew, her skills were mediocre at best. Suspecting the news was an exaggeration, I scrolled down. When I saw the pictures of the jewelry, my eyes widened in fury! These were not her designs! The designs that fetched those astronomical prices were clearly based on my mother’s posthumous sketches! How did Sierra get access to my mother’s designs? A sudden realization hit me, and my blood ran cold. I had once shown River my mother’s sketches. Did he secretly take photos of them when I wasn’t looking? I immediately sought out River to confront him. When he saw me, he smiled. “Willow, you finally came to see me. I thought you would never forgive me. Actually, I went back to look for you very quickly that day. I…” Slap! I slapped him hard across the face. “You stole my mother’s design sketches and gave them to Sierra!” River froze, clearly not expecting the normally docile me to strike him. He rubbed his cheek. “Willow, how can you use a word like ‘steal’? Sierra was just drawing inspiration…” “Inspiration? That was blatant plagiarism! Tell her to confess the truth immediately, or don’t blame me for blowing this out of proportion!” River gripped my shoulders, his expression serious. “Sierra’s parents got divorced. The only way she won’t be bullied is if she establishes herself here through her own merits.” “Willow, I’m begging you. Please don’t blow this up, okay? How much money do you want? I’ll buy the designs from you. Will that be enough?” My hands fell limply to my sides. He thought I was giving in and stepped forward to hug me. “Be good. You’re the most understanding. I promise from now on I will only spoil you and love you. Once you marry into the River family, you’ll have whatever you want… Ugh!” He shoved me away forcefully, staring in disbelief at the hairpin stabbed into his shoulder. This hairpin was the first gift he had ever given me. I hadn’t used hair ties since. Now, I was giving it back to him. My long hair cascaded down, hiding the frost on my face, but it couldn’t mask the bone-chilling cold in my voice. I spoke into my phone. “Burn down Sierra’s exhibition. Burn every single piece of jewelry. Don’t leave a single one intact.” River stared in shock at the person I had suddenly become. The icy aura radiating from me made him instinctively step back.

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1 I pinched pennies every month to sponsor a brilliant girl from an impoverished rural mining town, promising to cover every cent of her college tuition and living expenses. During summer break, I let her stay in my guest room. That was when I heard her crying to her livestream audience through the thin walls. “Guys, I seriously can’t take it anymore. My sponsor is a total control freak.” “She forces me to study constantly and hates it when I stream. Isn’t she just trying to cut off my income?” “And the allowance she gives me? It’s literally pennies. What am I supposed to do with that in a big city? I can’t even afford a decent designer bag.” “She claims it is for my own good, but I know she is just jealous because I am young, pretty, and have followers! The second I blow up, I am blocking her on everything.” I looked down at the $200 sundress she was wearing, the one I had just bought for her the week before. A cold smile crept onto my lips. If streaming was so lucrative, she could figure out her own tuition and rent. … “Mia, about my allowance for next month…” Jessica stood timidly in the doorway of my study, wearing that exact sundress. Her fingers twisted the fabric in a display of nervous innocence. She had a small, delicate face and big, watery eyes that naturally drew pity. That vulnerability was exactly why I had decided to fund her education in the first place. I did not even look up. My eyes remained locked on my monitor. “There isn’t one.” “What?” Jessica seemed to think she had misheard, taking a hesitant step forward. “Starting this month, the allowance and the tuition are gone.” I finally raised my eyes, meeting hers with absolute calm. The timid act melted off her face in a second, instantly replaced by shock and rising panic. “Why? Mia, did I do something wrong? Just tell me, I will fix it!” Her eyes turned red on command. She rushed to my desk, her voice trembling with a practiced sob. “You promised you would sponsor me until I got my degree! You can’t just go back on your word!” I closed my document, leaned back in my leather chair, and crossed my arms. “I thought your livestreaming was paying the bills. You can handle your own tuition from now on.” All the color drained from Jessica’s face. Her eyes darted around the room, terrified to meet my gaze. “Mia… you… you know?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Stripped of her confidence, she could not muster a single ounce of fake pity. I said nothing. I just let the silence stretch, watching her squirm. She panicked for a few seconds before a switch seemed to flip in her brain. She forcibly steadied herself. “Mia, this is a huge misunderstanding.” She sniffled, the tears arriving right on cue. “I only stream for a little pocket money so I don’t have to burden you so much. My followers send me gifts because they want to. I never ask for them.” She paused, injecting a hint of subtle grievance into her tone. “And the stuff I said on stream… that was only because you have been so cold to me lately. I was stressed and just venting to my chat. I didn’t mean a word of it, I swear! I am so grateful for everything you do!” “Are you done?” I asked. She froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be completely immune to her routine. “Mia…” “If you are done, get out. I have scripts to write.” I delivered the eviction notice without raising my voice, turning back to my screen. Jessica stood rooted to the spot, biting her lip. Her face flushed a mottled red and white. After half a minute of suffocating silence, she stomped her foot, spun around, and bolted from the room. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind her with a violent crack. 2 Three years ago, I connected with Jessica through a non-profit charity initiative. She was just a high school sophomore back then. Her file stated she was from a remote, dead-end town. Her parents had passed away early, leaving her with an elderly grandmother. She had straight A’s but was on the verge of dropping out due to crushing poverty. Attached to the file was a black-and-white photo of a fragile, stubborn-looking girl in a faded, oversized hoodie. My heart broke for her. From that day on, I paid for everything she needed to finish high school. She worked hard and proudly earned an acceptance letter to a prestigious university right here in my city. Knowing she had no family to rely on, I invited her to stay with me for the summer. I lived alone in a spacious three-bedroom apartment, so I had plenty of room. I bought her a new iPhone, a MacBook, and a closet full of clothes. I gave her a thousand dollars a month for living expenses, which was more than enough for a college student. I thought I was paving the way for her future. I thought she would study in peace, land a great job, and rewrite her destiny. I thought I was gaining a sweet, driven younger sister. That was until I came home early from a meeting, walked past her bedroom, and heard the most venomous lies spilling from her mouth. In that moment, I realized the resilient girl I had sponsored was gone. The person sleeping under my roof was a complete stranger. The day after I cut off her funding, Jessica made herself scarce. She locked herself in her room, entirely silent. When dinner time rolled around, Martha, my housekeeper, knocked on her door but got no response. “Miss Mia, do you think Jessica is sick?” Martha asked, wiping her hands on her apron. “She hasn’t come out all day.” “Let her be,” I replied flatly. “She will come out when she gets hungry.” That evening, my nephew Connor dropped by to raid my fridge. He was a college freshman himself and practically lived at my place on weekends. “Aunt Mia, did you change the WiFi password? Hook me up,” he yelled, waving his phone. I tossed him the new password. He connected, scrolled for a minute, and suddenly let out a loud gasp. “Yo, Aunt Mia, is this streamer living in your guest room?” I walked over. The screen showed Jessica’s face, heavily filtered and wearing flawless, expensive makeup. She was dressed in a pristine white slip dress, her hair curled into loose, elegant waves. She stared into the camera, looking utterly devastated. “Guys, I literally don’t know how I am going to survive…” “My sponsor found out I stream and cut off my entire allowance. Now she is threatening to throw me out on the street.” “I am terrified. I am still two grand short for my tuition. If I can’t pay it next week, the university is going to expel me…” Tears rolled perfectly down her cheeks. The background of her stream was the massive mahogany bookshelf in my study. I had never threatened to kick her out, but she certainly knew how to spin a narrative. The chat was moving at lightspeed, her “loyal fans” absolutely furious. “Protect Jessica at all costs!” “What kind of garbage sponsor is that? She is definitely just jealous of our girl’s pure heart!” “Drop her address, let’s dox the witch!” “Don’t cry Jessica, we got your tuition! Dropping a Galaxy right now!” Expensive digital gifts exploded across the screen in a shower of animated gold coins and fireworks. Connor stared at the phone, his jaw practically on the floor. “Holy crap. This is a classic Dark Academia grifter! They use the aesthetic of being a struggling, bookish scholar to scam simps out of their money. I can’t believe there is one living in your house!” “A Dark Academia grifter?” It was the first time I had heard the term. “Yeah,” Connor said, clicking on her profile to educate me. “Look at her grid. It is all ‘Day in the Life of a Pre-Law Student’ or ‘Immersive Thesis Writing’. Every photo is either in a vintage library or your study. She sells this image of a poor, hardworking genius just to bait donations. Look at the brands she is wearing. Does that look like poverty to you?” I scrolled through her feed. She was wearing a silk blouse I bought her, lounging on my velvet sofa, holding an untranslated French novel I knew she couldn’t read. The caption: Investing in your mind is the best luxury. She had taken a moody silhouette shot at my desk using the MacBook I paid for. The caption: The midnight oil will light the path to my dreams. She even used my signature designer perfume bottle as a prop for a flat-lay photo. The caption: A girl should always keep a little romance in her life. The comment section was a sea of absolute worship. “Beauty and brains! Jessica is unmatched!” “This is what a real intellectual goddess looks like.” “Subbed. Finally, an influencer with actual substance.” Every single thing I had provided to help her survive had been weaponized as a prop for her performance. My home was nothing but a beautifully curated movie set for her lies. “Aunt Mia, what are you gonna do?” Connor asked, looking disgusted. “This is vile. Are you just gonna let her keep scamming people?” I took my phone back and tapped the screen a few times with a completely blank expression. “Patience.” Down the hall, Jessica’s stream abruptly froze and went dark. She must have realized the router was off. She burst out of her room, her face twisted in rage. “Mia! Did you shut off the WiFi?!” She dropped the sweet ‘Aunt’ or ‘Sister’ act entirely. I leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping my water, admiring her absolute meltdown. “My house, my internet. I turn it off when I please.” “You!” She pointed a shaking finger at me, her face flushed dark red. “You just can’t stand seeing me succeed! Stop trying to control me! I don’t need your stupid charity money. I am doing amazing without you!” She spun around and stomped back to her room, delivering another violent slam of the door. Connor raised his hand and gave me a silent, enthusiastic high-five. 3 Jessica left the house at the crack of dawn the next day. I figured she had relocated to a cybercafe to keep her hustle going. Sure enough, Connor texted me a Twitch link that night. Jessica had a new setup. Behind her was the neon lighting and muffled shouting of a late-night gaming lounge. She was sobbing hysterically now. “Guys, I got kicked out. I have to sleep at this internet cafe tonight…” She cleverly angled the webcam so it only caught her face and the glowing monitor behind her, creating a perfect illusion of tragic homelessness. The collective heartbreak of her fans translated directly into a tsunami of digital cash. Watching her viewer count and donation tracker skyrocket, the temperature in my eyes dropped to freezing. For the next few days, Jessica left early and came back late. Sometimes she didn’t come back at all. She seemed to genuinely enjoy using the cybercafe as her base of operations. She clearly believed that if she milked enough sympathy, she could make enough cash to cut ties with me forever. That Thursday afternoon, I received a phone call I hadn’t anticipated. It was from the university. A Mr. Harrison, Jessica’s academic advisor. “Is this Ms. Mia? I am Jessica’s advisor at the university. I was hoping to speak with you regarding her current standing,” his voice was polite but strained. “Hello Mr. Harrison. Is something wrong with Jessica?” “Well, yes. Last semester, Jessica failed three of her core classes. We have been trying to contact her, but she isn’t answering calls or emails. Classes started a week ago and she hasn’t even registered. We checked her emergency contacts and yours was the only one listed. Has there been a family emergency?” Failed? Three core classes? That threw me off. She had entered this highly competitive university with top-tier test scores. It seemed her lucrative streaming career was rotting her academic life much faster than I realized. “She is physically fine, just…” I paused, finding the right corporate phrasing. “She has been going through a rebellious phase.” “Rebellious?” Mr. Harrison caught the hesitation instantly. “Ms. Mia, our institution has very strict academic standards. If she continues this trajectory and fails to secure her credits, she will face mandatory academic suspension. Or worse, expulsion.” Expulsion. “I understand, Mr. Harrison. I will have a serious conversation with her.” I offered the polite assurance he needed. “Thank you. Please ensure she reports to campus immediately. We have resources available if she is struggling.” I ended the call and stared out the floor-to-ceiling window at the city skyline. Jessica, you wanted absolute freedom. It looks like it is coming for you sooner than you thought. That evening, Jessica actually came home. She strutted through the front door, practically glowing with arrogance. She carried a massive shopping bag from a high-end luxury boutique. Clearly, the cybercafe tears had paid off beautifully. She paused when she saw me sitting in the living room, then tilted her chin up. “Oh, still awake?” she mocked, her voice dripping with attitude. I ignored the bait. I simply slid a printed piece of paper across the coffee table. “What is this?” She eyed it suspiciously before picking it up. It was a printout of the university’s academic policies. I had used a red marker to highlight a specific paragraph: Failing three or more courses in a single semester will result in Academic Warning. Consecutive failures or accumulating four failed courses will result in immediate Expulsion. The smugness evaporated from Jessica’s face the second she read the red ink. “You went behind my back?!” Her voice spiked into a shrill shriek. “Mia, who do you think you are! You are just a donor! You have no right to meddle in my grades!” She crumpled the paper into a tight ball and hurled it at my face. “Stop trying to scare me with expulsion! You think I care? I make more in a month of streaming than you make writing your boring scripts all year!” She violently shook the designer shopping bag at me, her eyes manic with the thrill of revenge. “See this? I bought this with my own money. Five thousand dollars! What did your pathetic little allowance ever do for me? You are just some old boomer who doesn’t understand the digital age. Degrees are useless now! Traffic is everything!” “I am about to sign a massive contract with an agency. I am going to be a top-tier influencer! When I am at the top, I won’t even look your way if you beg me!” She was panting, her face flushed with adrenaline. The innocent, sweet girl I once knew was completely gone, replaced by something twisted and consumed by greed. I stood up slowly and walked right up to her. “Perfect,” I said softly. “Since you are so wildly successful, you can afford your own place.” “You have three days to pack your things and get out.” 4 Jessica was utterly paralyzed. She probably expected me to yell back, or maybe give her a disappointed lecture. She never expected a cold, immediate eviction. “Wh… what did you say?” “Three days. Get out of my house,” I repeated, my tone devoid of any warmth. “You can’t just kick me out!” she finally screamed, her composure shattering. “You invited me to live here! You can’t just change your mind! You are a fraud!” “I invited you here so you would have a safe place to study. Look at what you have become.” I stared dead into her eyes. “I don’t care! I am not leaving! This is my home too!” She resorted to a toddler’s tantrum, dropping heavily onto the living room rug. “My name is on the mortgage.” I pointed toward the entryway console table where a copy of my deed sat in a folder. “If you aren’t gone, I will have the police remove you for trespassing.” The word “police” hit her like a bucket of ice water. Her screaming stopped instantly. As arrogant as she was, she knew she had zero legal ground. If the cops dragged her out, her neighbors would see, people would film it, and her delicate “innocent scholar” aesthetic would be nuked from orbit. She scrambled off the rug, glaring at me with pure venom. “Fine, Mia. You want to play dirty? I will leave. Just you wait!” She stormed into the guest room and began packing—or rather, violently throwing things into bags. The heavy thuds and muffled cursing echoed down the hallway. I paid her no mind. I simply texted Martha, telling her she could take tomorrow off as I had some personal business to handle. By early the next morning, Jessica was dragging two massive luxury suitcases out the front door. Suitcases I had paid for. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had intentionally rubbed her makeup to look as though she had suffered some unimaginable abuse. She was absolutely prepping for the performance of a lifetime. Sure enough, ten minutes after she left, my phone buzzed. It was Connor. “Aunt Mia, get on the stream! Jessica is literally broadcasting from your apartment courtyard! She is telling everyone you kicked her out onto the street and that she had to buy her own luggage. She is weeping.” I walked to the living room window and pulled the curtain back just an inch. Down in the courtyard, Jessica was sitting on her suitcase, holding her phone on a tripod, crying beautifully into the lens. A few neighbors were walking their dogs, side-eyeing her bizarre behavior. She was smart enough not to dox my exact unit number or name. She just spun a tale about a “ruthless corporate sponsor” who had thrown her to the wolves. “Guys, I am so lost right now… my whole life is in these two bags…” “It is so cold out here. I haven’t eaten…” Her acting was Oscar-worthy. Even from three stories up, I could feel the engineered tragedy radiating from her. Her chat went feral. “This is abuse! What kind of sick woman does this?!” “Jessica, we got you! What city are you in? I will drive right now and pick you up!” A user named “Knight_of_Jessica” suddenly dropped one hundred “Diamond Tiers” in the chat, a donation worth roughly three thousand dollars. “Go book a suite at the Four Seasons, baby girl! Daddy will take care of you!” Seeing the massive donation alert, Jessica’s sobbing magically paused. Her face lit up with a sugary, innocent smile. “Thank you so much, Knight! You are always my savior!” I watched the circus act for another minute, then let the curtain fall shut. Connor was practically vibrating with rage through the phone. “Aunt Mia, you are just going to let her do this? She is defaming you right in your own front yard!” “Let them watch,” I said, my voice steady. “I need you to do something for me.” “Anything. Name it.” “Run a check on social media. Find out if there are any major brands actively looking for an ‘intellectual’ or ‘scholar’ influencer for an upcoming ad campaign.” Connor sounded confused but didn’t hesitate. “I am on it. But Aunt Mia… what exactly is the endgame here?” I looked back toward the window. Down below, Jessica was loading her designer bags into a sleek Uber, a victorious smirk plastered across her face. Jessica, since you love building fake personas so much, I am going to help you build the biggest one yet.

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A company-wide Slack notification announced my “restructuring” under the Internal Conflict of Interest Policy. My fiancé Rory, the Sales Director, remained completely silent. Not a word of explanation. Whispers broke out immediately: “Since when do Tech and Sales have a conflict? And why fire the Tech Director?” Sophie, Rory’s childhood neighbor and the new tech intern, walked over with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Victoria. Leave peacefully. I’ll take over your work from now on.” I didn’t speak. I opened the severance email: seventy-five thousand dollars. I signed without hesitation. Becky, a junior developer on my team, was furious. “Victoria, aren’t you going to fight this?” I stood up, purse in hand. “There’s no need.” Sophie laughed softly, mockingly. “Fighting won’t change anything. Rory brings in tens of millions. Did you think the company would let him go?” I looked at her calmly. She had no idea how much a Tech Director truly carried. Thirty-two proprietary modules. Seventeen automation scripts. Lightweight LLM deployment. Model-driven architecture. The company’s foundations, built on five years of my work. No one else fully understood these systems. Rory didn’t come home until eleven, smelling of expensive whiskey. He looked at me, guiltless. “Victoria, you have to understand. We’re getting married soon. The company needs to avoid conflict.” I stayed quiet. His phone lit up on the coffee table. He snatched it fast—but I’d seen. Sender: Sophie. “Hey babe, the eyesore is finally out of our way.” I looked away and laughed quietly. It seemed there wouldn’t be a wedding after all. 1 I turned on the television in the living room, flipping aimlessly through the channels. My mind was a million miles away. I was trying to pinpoint the exact moment they started sleeping together. When Rory and I first started dating, he told me about his childhood neighbor. A sweet younger girl who grew up on his street. That was Sophie. Rory swore up and down that he only saw her as a little sister. Even his mother had pulled me aside once to assure me that Sophie was practically family, just a harmless girl from the neighborhood. So, when Sophie graduated from college and Rory asked if I could get her an internship in my department, I agreed without a second thought. I mentored her carefully for six months. I just never expected to mentor her right into my fiancé’s bed. Rory walked out of the bedroom, his face plastered with a mask of fake sympathy. “Honey, I am so sorry about what happened today. I know you are upset about being let go, and it sucks I can’t even stay up with you tonight. Once I finish this huge project, I promise I will take you on a nice vacation to clear your head.” I did not look at him. I just gave a vague hum of acknowledgement. He stood there, hesitating for a fraction of a second. “Are you mad at me?” “Please don’t take what Sophie said today to heart. She is just young and doesn’t know how to read the room. She was just joking around.” I finally turned my eyes to him. “So you heard what she said?” “Yeah.” “And you agree with her?” He did not answer. I turned off the television and stood up to head to the guest room. He grabbed my wrist. “Victoria, does any of this really matter? Women eventually have to step back to focus on the family and raise kids anyway. Having a highly successful husband reflects perfectly well on you. It gives you status.” I stared dead into his eyes. “Whose status? Rory the Director, or Mrs. Rory the trophy wife? Do you honestly think I spent sixteen years of my life studying advanced computer science just to be a footnote attached to a man’s last name?” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I ripped my hand out of his grip and walked toward the hallway. He let out an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. “Fine. You are in a bad mood, so I am not going to argue with you. Take some time and cool off.” I ignored him and walked straight into the guest bedroom. He stood in the living room. He never followed me. A few minutes later, I heard the heavy thud of the master bedroom door closing. It was the first time we had slept in separate beds since we moved in together. On the night I was fired from my job. On the night I found out he was cheating on me. Surprisingly, I did not feel an overwhelming sense of grief. Instead, I felt a profound sense of relief. Relief that my entire future was not going to be destroyed by a marriage devoid of loyalty or basic human dignity. Truth be told, I was the one who got hired at the company first. Six months later, I personally recommended Rory to the CEO. His biggest sales accounts were only secured because I sat in on the meetings, breaking down the software’s performance and long-term scaling for the clients. He only reached the position of Sales Director because I carried him halfway there. Yet everyone in the corporate office genuinely believed he was the more valuable asset. Perhaps deep down, Rory believed he was entitled to my labor. That was why he orchestrated this incredibly cruel layoff. He wanted to lock me inside the cage of domestic life. He wanted me to silently toil away in the background, supporting his ascent without complaint. But I was never born to be someone’s accessory. And there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to sacrifice my career for a man who manipulated my livelihood just to screw his intern. I opened my laptop and navigated to my email. I pulled up the massive spreadsheet of wedding vendors. The florist, the caterer, the venue. Without blinking, I hit cancel on every single one and requested immediate refunds. Then I opened our shared financial documents. The house was jointly owned. We split the down payment, and we split the renovation costs. It was getting messy trying to figure out who spent a few extra dollars here and there. So I kept it simple. Cut it right down the middle. Whoever keeps the house pays the other their half of the equity. I tallied up the rest of our shared assets, dumped everything into a clean, itemized spreadsheet, and emailed it to Rory. He did not reply. I checked the clock. Eleven-thirty. He was definitely still awake. He always was at this time. The next morning, Rory said absolutely nothing about the spreadsheet. I didn’t bring it up either. He glanced at me over his coffee. “Is there anything else we need to buy for the wedding?” I knew exactly what he was doing. He was testing the waters. He wanted to know if my spreadsheet was a declaration of war or just an angry tantrum. “No. We are good,” I said evenly. “Great.” He exhaled a massive sigh of relief. “What are your plans for today?” I kept my eyes on my oatmeal. “I have to go back to the office. HR requested a final meeting.” He immediately put on a distressed expression. “You will have to take your own car then. I have a massive client meeting across town this morning.” I nodded slowly, saying nothing. He did not even finish his breakfast before rushing out the front door. The moment the lock clicked shut, I opened an app on my phone. The BMW he drove was legally mine, and I had installed a GPS tracking module on it for insurance purposes months ago. Thirty minutes later, the blue dot on the map parked right outside Oakwood Apartments. I had dropped Sophie off there after a team dinner once. I knew exactly where she lived. I took a screenshot, saved it to a secure folder in my camera roll, grabbed my keys, and left the house. When I arrived at the company lobby, I ran right into a radiant, glowing Sophie. She was wearing four-inch heels and a face full of flawless, expensive makeup. It was a stark contrast to my comfortable jeans, oversized sweater, and bare face. She strutted over, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Good morning, Victoria! Dressed a little casually today, aren’t we? Did you have to squeeze onto the subway to get here?” I looked at her, matching her polite smile perfectly. “I did. Unlike you, I don’t have a personal chauffeur to pick me up from Oakwood.” Her smile froze instantly, cracking at the edges. 2 I completely ignored her stunned silence and walked straight into the main office. Dozens of eyes immediately locked onto me. Some held pity. Some held regret. Some were gleaming with thinly veiled amusement. I had already experienced all of this yesterday. Today, they were just waiting for a sequel to the drama. I walked straight to the HR department. Rachel, the HR Director, offered me a polite smile and gestured to the chair across from her desk. The only reason she was being so courteous was undoubtedly because of Rory. In her mind, I was still the future wife of the company’s star Sales Director. “Victoria, let me just say congratulations in advance. Rory is an incredible catch. You are a very lucky woman.” She managed to say it without outright implying I was punching above my weight, but the tone was there. I smiled faintly, offering no response. She slid a thick folder across the mahogany desk. The cover page read Non-Disclosure and Non-Compete Agreement. I flipped it open. It was packed with dense legal jargon. The first few pages were standard corporate protection. No leaking trade secrets, no poaching current clients, no consulting for direct competitors within a specific timeframe. But the final two clauses stopped me dead. Clause 17: Party B is permanently prohibited from seeking employment or holding equity in the software development sector. Clause 18: Compensation for the aforementioned non-compete period will be paid in the form of 1% company equity, legally issued to the primary shareholder’s proxy, Rory. I sat in silence, letting the sheer audacity of those two sentences sink in. They were firing me, banning me from my own career path for the rest of my life, and giving my severance package directly to Rory. Tying Rory to the company with my equity meant tying me to Rory. They wanted Rory to step on my neck to reach the top. This contract was designed to force me into total financial dependence. I would become the little housewife spending her husband’s money, just like the office gossips whispered about. The CEO wanted my technical architecture for free. Rory wanted my severance to build his own empire. The audacity of their little scheme was almost impressive. After two seconds of dead silence, I actually laughed. I looked up at Rachel. “So, you are legally trafficking me?” Her polite smile vanished, replaced by a subtle, defensive sneer. “There is no need to be dramatic, Victoria. You are a top-tier technical asset. You built the core architecture for our biggest projects. The company has to protect its investments.” “A top-tier asset? Then why is the company firing me?” She choked on her words for a second. “Well, that is… because of the conflict of interest policy.” “Why doesn’t that policy apply to anyone else? I know for a fact there are at least three other couples in this building. Two of them are legally married. Do you want me to list their names?” Her face tightened. “They are mid-level employees. You and Rory are both executive directors. The risk is completely different.” I kept my eyes locked on hers, my smile never fading. “Is that right? We were dating when we both signed our initial contracts. Why wasn’t the conflict of interest a problem back then?” Her expression darkened into open irritation. “This is a decision made by the executive board. You arguing with me is pointless. I am just here to get your signature, not to debate corporate history.” I pushed the heavy folder back across the desk. “I am not signing it.” “You are refusing?” She looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Do you have any idea how much 1% of this company is worth?” “I am perfectly aware. It matches my annual salary. Roughly one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, with the potential for aggressive growth.” “Then why on earth are you refusing?” “Is the equity being issued in my name? What does that money have to do with me?” She blinked, genuinely thrown off. “The equity goes to Rory. You two are getting married in a month. What is his is yours, right?” I looked at her, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Rachel, you are married, right?” She nodded cautiously. “Yes.” “Then you understand how pre-nuptial assets work, don’t you?” She froze, her mouth slightly open. “We are not legally married yet. This agreement is pre-nuptial. Whether that equity is worth a hundred thousand or ten million dollars, legally, not a single penny belongs to me. Yet I am the one signing away my right to work in my own industry forever. Why in God’s name would I agree to that?” She stammered, trying to regain control. “Between a husband and wife, keeping score like this is…” “We are engaged. Not married.” I cut her off cleanly. “Rachel, if I asked you to sign a legally binding contract that gave your entire severance package directly to your husband’s personal bank account, would you sign it?” “Well, obviously not, but…” “Then why should I?” I stood up, looking down at her from across the desk. “Rachel, maybe you are comfortable depending on a man to survive. But I am Victoria. I don’t need a man’s charity. I have the drive to build my own life, and more importantly, I have the talent to back it up.” I turned on my heel and headed for the glass door. Panicking that she had failed her one objective, Rachel stood up quickly. “Victoria, be reasonable! This is about protecting corporate interests! You and Rory are going to be husband and wife. He holds the keys to our most sensitive sales data. If he accidentally leaks something to you while you work for a competitor, who takes the fall?” “He won’t.” “Excuse me?” “He won’t tell me anything. Because the wedding is off.” 3 I walked out of the HR suite and headed straight for the sales floor to find Rory. As I passed the CEO’s office, the door was wide open. Marcus, our CEO, was leaning back in his leather chair. He turned his head, and our eyes met. His face was a complete blank void. He looked away instantly. I did exactly the same. Without breaking my stride, I marched right into the glass-walled sales conference room. I pushed the door open. The entire sales team went dead silent, staring up at me. I ignored every single one of them. I walked directly up to Rory, reached across his laptop, and snatched the keys to my BMW right off the table. I turned around and walked out. The entire interaction took less than five seconds. Three seconds after I exited the room, my phone buzzed. It was Rory. “You need the car?” “Yes,” I replied coldly. “Could you have given me a little warning? I have a massive dinner meeting with clients tonight.” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I need to give you a warning before I drive my own vehicle?” He hesitated, his voice dropping into a defensive hiss. “Are you having another meltdown? Is this just because I gave Sophie a ride this morning? She sprained her ankle, Victoria. She lives on my route. I was just helping her out.” “You can chauffeur her around for the rest of your life for all I care. Just don’t do it in my car.” I hung up on him before he could say another word. I took the elevator down to the underground parking garage and unlocked my car. The moment I opened the door, a sickeningly sweet, artificial vanilla perfume assaulted my senses. I actually coughed. When I looked at the interior, my blood ran cold. Rory and I operated on completely different schedules. Sales required him to travel and entertain clients constantly, so his hours were erratic. Lately, I had just been taking the subway to avoid the terrible downtown traffic. My beautiful, minimalist cream-leather interior had been completely desecrated. Every surface was covered in pastel pink, girlish accessories. There were heart-shaped plush pillows stuffed into the back seats. Sitting neatly on the floorboard of the passenger seat was a pair of fluffy, pink bunny-ear slippers. I stood there for a few seconds in absolute silence. Then, methodically, I pulled every single item out of the car and shoved them all into the nearest concrete trash bin. Once the interior looked like my car again, I finally felt a fraction of my sanity return. Halfway through my drive home, Rory called again. “Victoria, what exactly did you say to Rachel? What do you mean we aren’t getting married? Stop throwing a childish tantrum and get back here to sign the paperwork.” I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes on the highway. “It is not a tantrum. I am not signing the contract, and the wedding is officially cancelled.” The line went completely dead for a moment. I could hear his breathing falter. “Victoria, do you have any idea what you are saying right now? We have been together for six years. We bought a house together. And now you are just calling it off? What the hell is going through your head?” My voice was terrifyingly calm. I even surprised myself. “Nothing complicated. I just realized you aren’t worth the trouble.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I hung up, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and let it ring endlessly. When I got to the house, I started grabbing a moving box. I packed away every trace of us as a couple. The matching coffee mugs, the electric toothbrushes, the framed photos. Everything went into the cardboard box. Right as I was taping it up, my phone rang. It was Rory’s mother. Her voice dripped with her usual condescending sweetness, though there was a sharp edge of annoyance underneath it. “Victoria, sweetheart, are you and Rory having a little spat? Listen to me, he is just under a lot of pressure at work. His job is very demanding, much different from yours. You need to be a supportive partner and show some understanding.” I seriously wanted to give the woman a standing ovation. She had mastered the art of being incredibly insulting without using a single curse word. “You are absolutely right, Mrs. Huo. I am clearly not good enough for your perfect son. So, I am calling off the wedding.” I hit the end button, pulled up her contact card, and permanently blocked her number. Thirty minutes later, the front door burst open. Rory stormed into the house like a hurricane. He started yelling before his coat was even off. “Victoria, my mother just called you and you blocked her? Are you out of your mind?!” I picked up a ceramic mug with our anniversary photo printed on it and casually tossed it into the moving box. It hit the bottom and shattered into jagged pieces with a sharp crack. Rory’s expression shattered right along with it. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, not looking up. “I won’t be talking to her ever again. Or you, for that matter.” He stared at the box, finally realizing that I wasn’t playing a game. “What exactly are you trying to say?” I dropped the tape dispenser and looked him dead in the eye. “Rory, did you look at the spreadsheet I sent you last night?” He flinched. A flash of genuine discomfort crossed his face. “I glanced at it. It is just the wedding budget, isn’t it?” “No. It is the house and the renovations. Eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. If you want to keep the house, you buy me out. If you don’t, I will buy you out. The rest of our shared assets are itemized. We split it fifty-fifty.” He stared at me, his eyes wide with shock. “Are you seriously breaking up with me?” “Yes.” “Over getting laid off?” “That is just part of it.” “Then what is the real reason?” I gave him a look of pure disgust. “You know exactly what the reason is.” Panic began to set into his features. “Is this about Sophie? Victoria, I already swore to you, she is just like a little sister to me…” “Rory,” I cut him off, my voice sharp as glass. “I am not an idiot. Save whatever dignity you have left and stop lying.” I turned my back on him, walked into the guest room, and locked the door behind me. 4 He left shortly after that. He didn’t come back that night. I didn’t reach out to him. I had significantly more important things to deal with than a dead romance. Before I was unceremoniously fired, I had been secretly developing an AI-driven marketing agent in my spare time. It had already reached the final beta testing phase. The architecture and the proprietary scripts were entirely mine. I built them on my personal servers on my own time. The company had zero legal claim to them. That aggressive non-compete clause couldn’t actually stop me. Even if I never worked a corporate job again, I could license my software independently and live incredibly comfortably. I had stayed at the company purely out of loyalty. Loyalty to the team I built, and loyalty to Rory. I had just sent out the beta testing portfolio to several major tech firms when my phone rang. It was an old client, Mr. Henderson. I answered, and he was already shouting over the line. “Victoria, the entire backend is throwing 404 errors! You need to remote in and patch this right now!” I kept my voice polite and professional. “Mr. Henderson, I actually no longer work for the company.” “What?!” The shock on the other end was palpable. “Since when?” “Yesterday. I was caught in a restructuring.” He went silent for two full seconds before his anger boiled over. “Are they absolutely insane?! Firing you? Do they want to bankrupt their own business?” I smiled slightly. “Someone else has taken over my role. You will need to contact the current technical team, Mr. Henderson. I am legally restricted from interfering.” He cursed under his breath, said a quick goodbye, and hung up. Ten minutes later, Mr. Davies called. Then Mr. Chen. Then five more major clients. All screaming about the exact same system failure. I knew exactly what was happening. When I packed up my desk yesterday, I purged my personal code modules and my seventeen custom scripts from the company’s servers. A 404 error was just the beginning. The real nightmare hadn’t even started. Once those scripts were gone, the security redundancies would collapse. User data would leak, and financial encryption would fail. Around two in the afternoon, Sophie sent me a text. Hey Victoria, which tool were you using for the automated log updates? I can’t find it in the repository. I built it myself. I took it with me. You took it?! Why? That is corporate technical property! It was my personal IP. It was never registered in the company’s asset library. I just let you guys use it for free for five years out of goodwill. You can ask the legal department if you want. I broke zero laws. She didn’t text back. Half an hour later, my phone rang. It was Sophie. “Victoria, you need to get back to the office right now! The main servers just crashed and users are flooding customer service about data breaches—” “I don’t work there anymore,” I cut her off instantly. “The company’s problems have nothing to do with me. Stop calling my number.” “But you are Rory’s fiancé! How can you just stand by and watch his company burn?!” “Not anymore, I am not. And even if I was, it is not my legal responsibility to fix your mess.” I hung up the phone and blocked her number immediately. The second the call ended, Becky sent me a frantic screenshot. Victoria, the office is a warzone. The client portals are completely down. Users are posting about the data leaks on Twitter and it’s going viral. The company’s stock just dropped two percent. We’ve lost millions in the last hour alone! I zoomed in on the screenshot. It was a chaotic mess of furious clients threatening lawsuits in a massive group chat. I didn’t reply. I just closed the app. Rory called next. “Victoria, why aren’t you at the office yet?!” “Why would I be?” “To fix the damn servers! You pulled the scripts, this is your mess to clean up!” I actually laughed out loud. “I built those scripts. Why wouldn’t I take them with me when I leave?” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Victoria, please, stop acting like this! The company is bleeding cash right now. Can’t you just be the bigger person?” “No. When the company fired me yesterday, nobody was the bigger person.” I hung up and added him to the block list. Five minutes later, the screen lit up again. This time, it was Marcus, the CEO. “Victoria, the situation has become critical. Can you please come down to the office? We need to talk face-to-face.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “444426”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was on leave at home when my neighbor’s kitchen caught fire. I rushed in right away and pulled him and his wife out. The next day, he called the police and accused me of damaging his fifteen-thousand-dollar imported kitchen cabinet while putting out the fire, demanding I pay for it in full. I didn’t argue and silently cooperated with the investigation. He went around the neighborhood spreading rumors, “Aren’t firefighters supposed to be so rough? Rescuing people is so clumsy!” A month later, his father had a sudden heart attack on the 28th floor. The elevator was out of power, and he couldn’t carry his father. He knelt down and begged me for help. I looked calmly at the stairs and said, “I’m too rough. What if I bump or jostle your dad? I couldn’t afford to pay for that.” 1 I was off duty, doing a set of pushups in my living room, when the smoke detector down the hall started screaming. Pure instinct took over. I bolted to the balcony. Thick, oily black smoke was billowing out of the kitchen window of Unit 1702, diagonally across from mine. “Fire!” someone shrieked from the courtyard below. I didn’t waste a single second thinking. I grabbed the emergency fire axe and extinguisher I kept by my front door and sprinted into the hallway. The neighbor’s door was unlocked. I kicked it wide open. A wall of blistering heat and toxic black smoke slammed into my face, instantly drawing tears to my eyes. “Hello? Is anyone in here!” I shouted over the crackle of flames, dropping low to the ground to avoid the worst of the smoke. “Help… help us…” A weak, raspy voice drifted from the living room. I crawled forward through the smog and spotted two figures collapsed near the sofa. It was my neighbors, Derek and his wife Sarah. They had inhaled a massive amount of smoke. Both were drifting in and out of consciousness, coughing violently against the floorboards. The kitchen fire was completely out of control now. The flames were already licking the expensive cabinetry and inching dangerously close to the main gas line. There was zero time to hesitate. I grabbed them by the collars of their shirts, one in each hand, and used every ounce of strength I had to drag their dead weight toward the front door. “Hold on, I am a firefighter. You are going to be safe.” Combined, they weighed well over three hundred pounds. Dragging them across the hardwood floor felt like pulling concrete blocks. Above us, the heavy chandelier groaned. The intense heat was melting its fixtures, and the glass was beginning to shatter and rain down. I had no choice. I had to use the most brutal, direct method possible to carve a path out of this inferno. As we reached the entryway, a massive chunk of the ceiling gave way. To avoid being crushed, I jerked them hard to the side, throwing my own body weight heavily against the hallway storage cabinets. With a deafening crunch, the imported wooden panels splintered into pieces under my shoulder. I ignored the pain shooting down my arm, gritted my teeth, and hauled them out into the safe, breathable air of the stairwell. Minutes later, my crew from the local firehouse arrived on the scene and quickly suffocated the blaze. I handed a hacking, half-conscious Derek and Sarah over to the paramedics, then slumped against the cold hallway wall, gasping for oxygen. My off-duty clothes were soaked in sweat and coated in toxic soot. Several deep cuts bled down my forearm. Derek finally caught his breath through an oxygen mask. He looked up at me, his eyes full of complex emotions. “Gavin… thank you for this.” I waved a soot-stained hand, my throat burning. “Don’t mention it. Just doing my job.” The very next morning, I was scrubbing the stubborn ash out of my clothes when the doorbell rang. Two uniformed police officers were standing on my welcome mat. “Are you Gavin?” “Yes.” “We received a formal complaint. You are suspected of a property damage offense. We need you to come down to the precinct to answer a few questions.” My brain short-circuited. “Property damage? What are you talking about?” The officer pointed across the hall. “The homeowner, Derek, filed a police report. He claims that during yesterday’s rescue, you intentionally destroyed his custom fifteen-thousand-dollar German cabinetry. He is demanding full compensation.” I stood frozen in my doorway, my blood running completely cold. The man I had literally dragged out of a burning inferno yesterday. The man who had looked me in the eye and thanked me. He had turned around and stabbed me in the back without a single thought. 2 I was escorted to the precinct. Derek and Sarah were sitting right across the interrogation table. Derek looked entirely unapologetic, clutching a printed invoice in his hand. “Officers, that is the guy. He busted into my house yesterday claiming it was a rescue, but he was wrecking the place like a damn demolition crew!” “Look at this. These are the cabinets I just had imported from Germany last year. With shipping and installation, it comes out to exactly fifteen thousand, four hundred dollars.” “He completely smashed them to pieces with his shoulder. He needs to pay for every single cent of this!” Sarah sat next to him, covering her face and forcing out dramatic sobs. “Our home was burning down, and instead of trying to put out the fire, he just roughly dragged us across the floor! Look at the bruises on my arms!” “And those cabinets… that was my anniversary present from my husband. Now it is all ruined…” She peered at me through her fingers, her eyes dripping with accusatory venom. I stared at this twisted couple, feeling a profound sickness settling in the pit of my stomach. The officer taking the statement frowned. “Gavin, can you explain what happened on the scene?” “The kitchen fire had already reached flashpoint. The smoke was banking down fast, filling the entire apartment. Both of them were unconscious on the floor.” “My only priority was getting them out alive. In a life-or-death scenario, avoiding property damage is completely secondary.” I forced my voice to remain steady and professional. “Secondary?” Derek instantly raised his voice, pointing a finger at me. “You call yourself a professional firefighter? Is this how professionals operate?” “You were totally reckless! If you ask me, you are completely unfit for the badge!” “If you don’t pay up today, I am taking this all the way to court!” He slammed the invoice onto the table, looking like an absolute thug. I didn’t bother arguing. There was no point arguing with a parasite. I quietly cooperated with the police, gave my official statement, and signed the paperwork. By the time I walked out of the precinct, the sun had already set. The news spread through my firehouse like wildfire. The Captain called me into his office the next morning. His face was grim. “Gavin, what the hell is going on? You save a life and walk out with a lawsuit?” “Captain, I…” “Hold on.” The Captain waved his hand and let out a heavy sigh. “The homeowner is biting hard on this. He is screaming police brutality and massive property damage.” “The public is extremely sensitive to our conduct right now. This kind of PR is a nightmare for the department.” “According to protocol, until internal affairs clears you, I have to suspend you. You are off the trucks, off the training floor. Desk duty only, starting today.” Suspension. The word felt like a physical blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of me. I walked out of the Captain’s office, feeling the weight of every single stare in the hallway. Some guys looked sympathetic. Some looked confused. But plenty of others had that quiet, mocking smirk that said, ‘Look who finally screwed up.’ “I always knew he was a hothead. Now he’s dragging the whole house down.” “Fifteen grand for cabinets? That neighbor has some serious balls trying to extort him.” “Hey, you never know. Maybe Gavin did go a little crazy in there. He broke it, he should probably buy it.” I went home and collapsed onto my couch. My phone was vibrating off the table. It was the building’s HOA WhatsApp group. Derek and Sarah were putting on a masterclass. They had directly tagged me in front of five hundred residents. Derek posted a high-res photo of the shattered wood panels covering his floor. [Derek @Unit 1701 Gavin: Some people wear the uniform but act like absolute thugs. Breaking people’s property and then refusing to take responsibility?] Sarah immediately followed up with a tearful voice memo. [Sarah: I still have nightmares about yesterday. Not just the fire, but the absolute terror of being violently dragged across the floor like a sack of garbage… We just want a little justice. Is that really too much to ask?] Brenda, the building’s notorious busybody and HOA board member, instantly jumped into the fray. [HOA Board – Brenda: @Unit 1701 Gavin, what exactly is going on here? Helping put out a fire is great, but why did you vandalize their home? And now the police are involved?] The chat exploded. “Oh my god, fifteen thousand dollars for cabinets? Are they made of solid gold?” “Wait, is it a crime to save someone’s life now? These people are insane.” “To be fair, saving a life doesn’t give you a free pass to wreck someone’s house. You break it, you buy it.” “Exactly. If firefighters are just going to trash our homes, who is going to ever let them inside?” To them, my silence was proof of my guilt. Derek and Sarah ramped up their performance. [Derek: BREAKING NEWS! That thug Gavin just got suspended by the fire department! See? Karma always catches up to the wicked!] [Sarah: Thank you Brenda, and thank you to all our wonderful neighbors for supporting us! It is so hard for normal citizens to fight back against the system!] [HOA Board – Brenda: Firefighters with zero professional ethics need to be thoroughly investigated! A suspension is just a slap on the wrist!] I stared at the screen, my hands shaking with pure, unadulterated rage. I started typing out a massive paragraph, ready to expose every single lie they were spinning. But after the first few words, my thumbs stopped. I realized it was completely useless. They didn’t want the truth. They just wanted a witch hunt, and I was the chosen target. I deleted the text and muted the group chat. I walked into my bedroom, took my soot-stained uniform and my fire axe, and locked them in the deepest corner of my closet. 3 The days on suspension were absolute torture. I couldn’t put on my gear, I couldn’t run drills, I couldn’t ride the trucks. A firefighter stripped of his right to fight fires was like a hawk with broken wings. I replayed every single second of that rescue in my head. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that smashing those cabinets was the only tactical choice to keep us alive. I contacted the crew who responded that day and got a copy of the backup footage from my body cam. The video was chaotic. A literal wall of fire, blinding smoke, the horrifying crack of the ceiling giving way. The extreme danger was undeniable. The moment I slammed into the cabinets was a textbook evasive maneuver to dodge the collapsing ceiling structure. I did it to protect my life and theirs. With that concrete evidence in my hands, I finally felt a sliver of hope. I waited quietly for the department’s internal investigation to clear my name. Meanwhile, Derek and Sarah’s circus act was escalating. They weren’t just whining in the group chat anymore. They actually did an interview with a local clickbait news channel on YouTube. In the video, Derek stared right into the camera, looking like a righteous victim. “It was pure jealousy! He saw how nice our apartment was, how we could afford the best things, and he lost his mind!” “He smashed those cabinets on purpose! It wasn’t an accident, it was malicious destruction of property!” Sarah had done her makeup perfectly to look pale and exhausted. She squeezed out a few tears for the lens. “We can’t even sleep in our own home right now. We are stuck renting a cheap motel. The emotional and financial toll is ruining our lives.” “We aren’t asking for him to go to jail. We just want him to pay for the damages he caused and give us a public apology. Is that really so unfair?” The news channel edited the video with dramatic music and a highly inflammatory clickbait title: Hero or Hooligan? Firefighter Wrecks $15K Kitchen During Rescue—Who Foots the Bill? The video went viral locally. The comment section was a cesspool of hatred aimed directly at me. “Are all firefighters this brain-dead now?” “Does saving a life give you a free pass to act like a vandal?” “Suspended? He needs to be fired and stripped of his pension!” I became the epicenter of a massive cyberbullying campaign. Walking through my own building, I could feel the hostile glares tracking my every move. Disgust. Alienation. Whispers behind my back. Once, I ran into Brenda in the elevator. She was holding her little poodle. The second she saw me, she practically pressed herself into the corner like I was carrying the plague. She muttered just loud enough for me to hear. “Some people look like big tough heroes, but they have the morals of a street rat. So disgusting.” My chest felt like it was trapped in a vise. I was the one who ran into the flames. I was the one who pulled them from the jaws of death. So why was I the one standing trial in the court of public opinion? The pressure on the firehouse was reaching a boiling point. The Captain called me into his office again. He looked completely exhausted. “Gavin, the optics on this are getting worse by the hour. The brass is demanding we make this go away.” “Listen… why don’t you just try to settle with him? The house can pass a hat around. We can scrape the money together for you.” “We can’t let this one incident drag the entire department’s reputation through the mud.” He wanted me to buy my own innocence? He wanted me to bow my head and apologize to a greedy, extortionist scumbag? I looked at my Captain, my voice coming out as a harsh rasp. “Captain, if I didn’t break that cabinet, all three of us would have been crushed by a burning ceiling. Are you telling me my life is worth less than some imported wood?” The Captain went silent. After a long, agonizing minute, he reached out and patted my shoulder. “I know you are right. But… damn it.” He didn’t finish the sentence. But I understood. When faced with public outrage and PR nightmares, the integrity of a single rank-and-file firefighter meant absolutely nothing. I sat in the dark that night, staring at the wall until the sun came up. Just as I felt I was completely drowning, a lifeline appeared. Internal Affairs officially took over the case. They reviewed my body cam footage and brought in an expert panel from the State Fire Marshal’s office to analyze the incident. The conclusion was swift and absolute. The expert panel ruled unanimously: Given the extreme flashover conditions, the evasive maneuvers I took were professional, decisive, and entirely justified. Smashing the cabinets fell strictly under emergency hazard avoidance. It was done to preserve the lives of the victims and the rescuer. It was a textbook, lawful operation. As for Derek’s precious fifteen-thousand-dollar cabinets, the investigators pulled the original invoice from the contractor who installed them. The total cost of the cabinets, including labor, was less than three thousand dollars. The invoice Derek had slammed on the police table was a complete forgery. The truth was finally out. I thought this nightmare was over. I thought I could finally put my gear back on and get back to my life. But I severely underestimated Derek’s absolute lack of shame. When he found out about the official ruling, he didn’t back down. He actually doubled down and went completely rabid. He flooded the HOA group chat with insane conspiracy theories. [Derek: Unbelievable! The system is totally corrupt! You think a bunch of government fire experts are going to side with a normal citizen?] [Derek: So what if I bumped the invoice up? That covers the depreciation value! And emotional distress! You idiots know nothing about the law!] [Sarah: My husband is just too honest. That is why these bureaucrats feel like they can crush us! We are victims!] They actually rallied a bunch of their relatives, marched down to my firehouse, and staged a protest. They unfurled a massive white banner with bold black letters: Violent Rescue, Demand Justice! They sat right in front of the bay doors, wailing and screaming, attracting a massive crowd of pedestrians with their phones out. It escalated from a simple dispute into a full-blown hostage situation against the department’s public image. The brass was in a total panic. The official statement clearing my name, which had already been drafted and approved, was quietly shelved. The Captain pulled me aside, his face grim. “Gavin, these people are absolute lunatics. They won’t listen to reason.” “He told the brass that unless we cut him a massive check, he is going to protest here every single day and take this to the state governor.” “The chiefs had a meeting. We are going to transfer you to the logistics warehouse for now. Just until the heat dies down. We will figure it out later.” Logistics. That was the graveyard of a firefighter’s career. Desk duty. Counting inventory. It meant I would never hold a hose again. I would never step foot in the arena again. I stared at the Captain, pronouncing every word with agonizing clarity. “The official investigation completely cleared me. Didn’t it?” The Captain nodded slowly. “Yes. It did.” “Then why am I the one getting exiled?” “Gavin, I am begging you. Take one for the team. Take the hit so the department can breathe.” My heart plummeted to the floor. So this was it. Justice and truth were completely irrelevant when faced with a loud enough liar. I didn’t argue. I just nodded and accepted the orders. Later that afternoon, I packed my locker into a duffel bag, getting ready to head over to the logistics warehouse. Just as I walked out of the barracks, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I picked it up. A voice on the other end was screaming in absolute, unfiltered panic. It was Derek. “Gavin! Get over here! You have to come right now!” “My dad… my dad is dying!” Before I could even process what he was saying, his voice broke into a hysterical sob. “He is having a massive heart attack! We are on the 28th floor! The building’s power just went out, the elevators are dead! I can’t carry him down!” “Please! Gavin! You have to help us! You are the only one who can carry him down the stairs!” The sheer terror and desperation in his voice was a jarring contrast to the arrogant thug who had tried to ruin my life just yesterday. I stood perfectly still on the pavement, my grip tightening on my phone. Through the receiver, I could hear Sarah screaming in the background, and the muffled voice of a 911 dispatcher telling them they needed to get him downstairs immediately. “Gavin! Are you there?! I will get on my knees right now! I will beg you!” “I was wrong! I was completely out of my mind! I don’t want your money! I don’t care about the cabinets! Just forget all of it!” “Please save my dad! Please!” I looked up at the towering high-rises dominating the city skyline in the distance. Twenty-eight floors. No elevators. Carrying a dying man down twenty-eight flights of stairs wasn’t just about brute strength. It required professional technique, perfect pacing, and an iron will. One wrong step, one jerky movement, could trigger a fatal cardiac event. And out of everyone in that entire apartment complex, I was the absolute only person physically and professionally capable of doing it. I took a slow, deep breath, suppressing the storm of emotions raging inside me. Then, speaking into the receiver with a terrifying, ice-cold calmness, I said: “I am way too rough.” “What if I accidentally bump him against a wall? I definitely can’t afford to pay you for the damages.”

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