1 When I was finally found after being missing for three years, I was nineteen, permanently blind, and heavily pregnant. My parents hugged me, sobbing uncontrollably. “My sweet girl, you’ve suffered so much…” I leaned into them and asked softly, “Where is Sienna?” My mother’s voice hitched as she hurriedly explained. “She didn’t mean to lose you that day. I already grounded her and cut off her allowance for a month. Don’t be mad at her, okay?” But I remembered when I was little. I had merely tripped over another kid’s foot, and my mother marched over to the neighbor’s house with a kitchen knife, throwing a massive fit. Even when people spit at her and called her a crazy shrew, she didn’t care. When I had a high fever that wouldn’t break, my dad was so panicked he went to the temple to pray, eating a strict vegetarian diet for ten days just to beg the gods for my health. Time and time again, they firmly shielded me behind their backs. And then, my adopted sister Sienna came into the picture. They sent me to the countryside to live with relatives. I only got to see them once a year… The wind carried my parents’ agonizing screams as I stood on the roof of the hospital. I smiled and said, “Hazel is going to turn into a little star and fly up into the sky.” That way, I wouldn’t be abandoned anymore, right? … When the arms wrapped around me, I thought it was the monster who tortured me every night. I screamed in sheer terror, “Hazel is being good! Hazel isn’t crying!” The person quickly let go, their voice trembling with deep remorse. “My daughter… I’ve looked for you for three years. I finally found you!” “Do you not recognize me? It’s Daddy!” Daddy? The word hit my brain like a spike of lightning. Countless memories flashed before my broken eyes. The clearest one was of a man and a woman pulling me out of a run down wooden shack, taking me to a beautiful, massive house, and telling me this was my home now. A girl who looked like an angel ran out of the house. She threw her arms around them. “Dad! Mom! You’re back!” Then the girl looked at me and handed me a piece of candy. “Hi, big sister. Don’t be scared. My mom and dad are your mom and dad now.” I remembered! Even though my body was in agonizing pain, even though the monster had hit me with a hammer so many times, I couldn’t help the surge of childish joy. “Did Daddy come to take Hazel home?” In the absolute darkness, I reached my hand out, desperately hoping he would hold it the way he held Sienna’s. I grasped nothing but empty air. “Your eyes…” my dad’s voice broke abruptly. Panic set in. “Hazel went blind… Will Daddy hate Hazel now?” “How could I? Daddy loves Hazel the most.” He sounded like he was crying. When he picked me up, he was so careful, terrified to use any pressure. But he was lying! In the memory that just flashed through my mind, I saw him only being sweet to the angel sister. He would pick her up and spin her around, making her giggle with absolute delight. “Hazel, your mom and I had to work hard in the city, so we had to send you back to our hometown. We only had Sienna with us.” “She’s just my coworker’s daughter, but her parents died in an accident. She’s very pitiful. You have to treat her like your real sister. You can’t bully her, do you understand?” I had nodded obediently. In my diary, I had secretly written: As long as I can stay with Mom and Dad, those kids can’t call me a bastard with no parents anymore. It was strange… When the monster beat and kicked me, I didn’t cry. But the moment I remembered that thick diary, my chaotic brain felt like it had been shot through with an arrow. It exploded. A mess of noisy voices flooded my ears. “Hazel! Why are you always jealous of your sister? She’s smarter and more likable than you, isn’t it obvious?” “Hazel, can’t you learn from your sister? Is it that hard to smile and act sweet for your parents? We raised you for nothing!” My dad carefully touched my forehead, asking what was wrong. I snapped back to reality in a panic. I asked, my voice trembling with uncertainty, “…Does Hazel still have a home?” On the very last page of that diary, I had written: Mom and Dad are Sienna’s Mom and Dad. That beautiful big house is Sienna’s house. None of it is mine. I curled my body into a tight ball. My broken eyes and the tearing pain in my lower body made me feel so ashamed. Covering my face, I finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “Bad men hurt Hazel… Everything hurts so much!” “I waited so long, but nobody came to save me.” “You think I’m stupid… Nobody wants me!” 2 My dad carried me out of the place I had been trapped in for three years. The stench of rot faded, but the fresh air terrified me. I held my breath until my face turned red. My dad gently stroked the skin around my ruined eyes, his voice thick with pain. “Your mom and I never abandoned you. You were locked away by bad men, and we couldn’t find you.” “Don’t worry, Hazel. The monsters who abducted and abused you have been caught by the police. They will pay for what they did.” His voice shook as he promised they would fix my eyes. I stared blankly into the pitch black air. I wanted to tell him that Hazel was used to it now. “Hazel isn’t afraid of the dark anymore,” I comforted him, testing the waters carefully. “Will Mom want to send me away again?” The air froze. My dad didn’t answer. Suddenly, a frantic cry echoed down the hallway. “Hazel!” A familiar, comforting perfume hit my nose. I greedily breathed it in. The hands that touched my face were shaking violently. My mother’s voice was drenched in tears. “My sweet girl… I missed you so much.” “You suffered so much out there… I’m so sorry. Mommy is so sorry…” I opened my mouth to speak, but a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I dry heaved, terrifying them. “Is Hazel blaming me?” my mom asked, her voice turning frantic and anxious. Right then, the doctor walked over with my medical chart. His tone was heavy and complex. “The patient was subjected to prolonged captivity and physical abuse. She’s suffering from severe PTSD. Please try to avoid triggering her.” “As for her physical condition… multiple bone fractures, internal bleeding, and bilateral retinal detachment. She needs surgery immediately if she has any hope of seeing again.” The doctor paused. “…Also, she is pregnant. About four months along.” The hospital room went dead silent. Crash! Something was hurled violently to the floor. My dad roared like a wounded lion. “I’m going to kill that animal!” My mom was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She just kept apologizing to me. “You were only sixteen when you disappeared… What did you go through these past three years…” I slowly reached down and touched my slightly swollen stomach. So I was pregnant. There was a baby in here who didn’t even know who its father was. Even more unlucky than Hazel. While waiting for my surgery, my parents never left my side for a second. By some unspoken agreement, they never mentioned their other daughter. Sienna. I greedily soaked up their rare, focused attention, but I couldn’t help comparing it. “Why didn’t Sienna come?” The room fell silent for a long moment. My dad finally asked, “Hazel, do you hate your sister?” My mom hesitated, then took my hand, her tone earnest and heavy. “After you went missing, Sienna felt incredibly guilty. She fell into a deep depression for a long time. Thank god she eventually snapped out of it. She got into the best university in the state and even started dating a police officer, just so it would be easier to ask for news about you.” “So you see, Hazel, it wasn’t on purpose when she lost you three years ago.” “I already punished her. I cut off her allowance for a whole month and made her reflect on her actions.” My entire body began to tremble. I gripped the bedsheets. Her voice drifted softly over me. “I read your diary. The whole thing was just you blaming us for favoring your sister.” “It’s our fault, Hazel. Please don’t hold a grudge against your sister, okay? She’s innocent.” My dad walked over and stroked my hair. “You were foolish enough to follow those bad men. When it comes down to it, you carry more of the blame for this than Sienna does.” He sighed deeply. “Forget it. Let’s not talk about it. The most important thing is that Hazel came home safely.” Beneath the heavy blankets, my hands curled into tight, trembling fists. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them what really happened. That day, at the mouth of the alley, it was Sienna who shoved my mom’s bank card into the bad man’s hand. She had looked right at me and said, “Hazel, Mom and Dad belong to me forever!” But my chest hurt so much it felt like it was being crushed. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t understand why I felt so utterly shattered. My ears were ringing, drowning out whatever else they were saying… The surgery was scheduled quickly. Right before they wheeled me in, my parents tried to encourage me. “Hazel, you are stronger than anyone. You’ll get through this.” Yeah. I am strong. Even when so many people were on top of me, I didn’t die. The smell of disinfectant grew heavy. The anesthesia began to pull me under. In my blurry, drifting consciousness, I remembered a lot of things. 3 When I was little, I had a terrible fever. Everyone said my brain had melted from the heat, making me stupid. That was why my parents sent me to the countryside. But I knew the truth. I wasn’t stupid! I actually had an incredible memory! Later, when they finally brought me back to the city, I was terrified they would send me away again. I studied relentlessly, sleeping only four hours a night. I finally ranked first in my entire grade. I practically sprinted home with my report card. My parents were thrilled. They cooked a massive feast to celebrate. But nobody noticed that I didn’t eat a single bite. Every single dish was loaded with chili peppers, because that was Sienna’s favorite. If I ate spicy food, I broke out in painful hives. I watched my mom laugh and kiss Sienna’s forehead, praising her soft, delicate skin. “Just like a peeled egg,” she said. I secretly touched my own face. It was bumpy and covered in terrible acne. I started desperately trying to fix my skin, smearing endless creams and treatments on my face. Sometimes the skin would blister and itch so badly it drove me insane. After a while, it actually worked. My skin cleared up, and I even had boys at school trying to talk to me. But my mom never noticed the change. Not until the day I was cornered by some thugs in an alley. I managed to run home, crying, my clothes torn and messy. Before I could even explain what happened, my mom laid into me, her voice dripping with disgust. “Hazel, did your teachers teach you no shame?!” She looked at me like I was exhausting to be around. “We are in the city, not some dirty farm village. You’re young, stop acting so cheap! Are you trying to ruin your sister’s morals?” But Mom. All Hazel wanted was for you to kiss my forehead, too. Just like you did when I was little. Back then, even if I just had a bad dream, my mom would be so worried she couldn’t sleep all night. My dad would sit by my bed, reading me stories until the sun came up. I racked my brain, but I couldn’t figure out why everything had changed. Maybe I really was just stupid. Maybe I just wasn’t lovable. Once I accepted that, I got sick. Every night, I wanted to die. My hair fell out in clumps. The smell of meat made me vomit. When the high school entrance exam results came out, my grades had plummeted. From ranking first, I dropped so low I could only get into a vocational school. My parents looked at me with a mix of resignation and pity. They comforted me, saying, “You were never very smart anyway. We didn’t expect you to be a scholar.” Then, they doubled down on spoiling Sienna. Every time we ate, Sienna would whine, “Mom, Dad, you’re so biased toward my sister! You keep giving me so much food, are you trying to turn me into a pig?!” I went to vocational school, surrounded by people who whispered and mocked me. Meanwhile, my parents spent a fortune to get Sienna into the best prep school in the city, hiring a private tutor that cost thousands a month. “The daughters of the Fang family are just as good as anyone else. We’re definitely going to have a college graduate in the house!” they would boast. On my birthday, they told me they had to work overtime and didn’t have time to buy me a present. But on Sienna’s birthday, they flew back overnight from a business trip hundreds of miles away, just to give her a gorgeous, expensive princess dress. “Happy fourteenth birthday to our Princess Sienna! You said you wanted to go to the beach, right? We’ll take you for winter break!” The moment she blew out her candles, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I practically ran back to my bedroom and hid. The door was soundproofed, but it couldn’t block out the sound of my parents and my sister laughing, so perfectly happy together. Curled up under my blankets, I dug my fingernails into the messy scars on my wrists. The old ones hadn’t even healed before I tore them open again, making them bleed. Just like my sickness. It was never going to get better. … I gasped for air, pulling myself out of the drowning memories. The surgery was over. I didn’t know how much time had passed. Suddenly, a crisp, bright voice rang through the room. “Dad! Mom! I heard you found my sister! I drove back overnight to see her! Is she okay?!” The voice leaned close to my ear, dripping with exaggerated guilt. “I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault. Sister, please wake up soon! You can hit me, you can scream at me, I’ll take it all!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. 4 The day finally came to remove my bandages. After a slight sting, I slowly opened my eyelids. The bright, unfamiliar light made me instinctively raise my hand to block it. Seeing my reaction, my parents let out a huge sigh of relief. “You can see! Oh, thank god.” The very first thing I saw was Sienna. She stood right behind my parents, smiling warmly at me, flashing her perfect dimples. She looked like an absolute angel. But panic clawed at my throat. Over the past three years, she had grown taller. Her hair fell in soft, elegant waves. She had blossomed into a stunning, confident young woman, radiating bright, youthful energy. She was so bright and flawless that I felt like a rat crawling out of a sewer. I felt entirely ashamed of my own existence. I quickly dropped my head, staring at the sheets. But she wasn’t going to let me hide. She reached out, forcefully tilting my chin up so she could examine my face. “You used to care so much about looking pretty, Sister. It’s such a shame your face is covered in scars now.” She looked at my mom. “Mom, my friend’s family owns a high end medical spa. Should we send Sister there to see if they can fix it?” My mom stepped forward and swatted Sienna’s hand away. She scolded her lightly, though her tone was utterly fond. “Where are your manners? Is that how you talk to your sister? We aren’t at home right now.” Realizing she had said the wrong thing, my mom glanced at me nervously and quickly changed the subject. “Well, now that your eyes are healed… we should talk about the baby.” Every eye in the room dropped to my stomach. My dad was the first to speak. “That bastard child needs to be aborted immediately.” He patted my shoulder, his voice firm but comforting. “Don’t be afraid. You are my daughter. Even if you were ruined by those men, it’s fine. Your mom and I will take care of you for the rest of your life.” My mom immediately agreed. She looked at Sienna with pure, unfiltered pride. “Your sister Sienna is so brilliant. She has such a bright future ahead of her. She’ll have her pick of incredible, successful men. We’ll just have her choose one of the good ones to take care of you.” Sienna’s smile stretched impossibly wide. She leaned her head affectionately on my mom’s shoulder. “Mom! You’re only worrying about Sister’s future! You’ve already got her whole life planned out. Am I not your daughter anymore?” “Yes, yes, you’re our spoiled little girl…” I sat quietly, watching them laugh and joke. I didn’t know why, but the metallic taste of blood suddenly filled my throat. The day of the abortion arrived. My parents had to run an errand, leaving Sienna alone with me in the hospital room. She gently rested her hand on my swollen stomach and suddenly asked, “Hazel, why did you even come back?” We were completely alone. The angelic mask melted off her face, twisting into something vicious and cruel. She looked down at me with absolute contempt. “You know, Mom and Dad are incredible people. They treat me better than my own biological parents ever did.” “That’s why I didn’t even shed a tear when my parents died in that car crash. I was five years old, and my only birthday wish was to stay with Mom and Dad forever.” “But then you showed up. You tried to steal the love that was supposed to be exclusively mine!” Sienna’s eyes were red with fury, glaring at me like I was a parasite. “Ever since they dragged you back from the countryside, they had to buy two of everything. You even had to sleep in my room! That is MY house!” I shrank back like a scolded dog, not daring to make a sound. So that was it. That was why Sienna handed me over to the monsters. I was the extra baggage in that house. My parents probably felt the exact same way. They just pitied me because I was stupid, and they didn’t want to hurt my feelings. But I’m really not stupid! The door to the hospital room swung open. Sienna’s face instantly morphed back into a sweet, dazzling smile. “Sister, once you’re all healed up, I’ll take you out to do something fun, okay?” Was she going to take me to the bad men again? My whole body started shaking. Terror gripped my chest. When the nurses wheeled me out of the room toward the surgical ward, I placed my hands over my round stomach. My mind was racing, desperately trying to figure out how to escape. Nobody in my family wanted me. I had to leave on my own. I couldn’t let the monsters hit me with the hammer again! Right before they took me into the operating room, I lied and said I needed to use the restroom. I slipped away. I walked for a long time until I found myself on the roof of the hospital. The sun was blinding. It made my new eyes ache. But my legs were too tired to keep going. I just stood there, letting the sun warm my skin. Suddenly, someone below screamed. “Look up there! Someone is going to jump!” I looked down in surprise. A massive crowd was gathering. Sirens started wailing all across the hospital grounds. Sienna was down there. And my parents, rushing frantically through the crowd. They were too far away for me to see their faces clearly, but I could hear their desperate, furious screams. “Hazel! Are you insane?! Get down from there right now!” “Hazel! We finally got you back, and now you pull this?! Are you trying to kill your father and me?!” So many people were pointing their phones up at me. I saw how angry and panicked my parents were. I wanted to climb down, but my body refused to move. The thick, jagged scars on my wrists suddenly started to itch furiously. I scratched at them until they tore open, the flesh turning into a bloody mess. I was having another episode. But I was terrified to tell my parents. I didn’t want them to hate me even more. A soft, quiet voice echoed in the back of my mind. Jump. The books I read said that when people die, they turn into stars and fly into the sky to watch over their families. My parents didn’t want to hurt me. They didn’t want to abandon me. But I needed to be a good girl. I needed to protect them. Once I figured it out, I smiled widely, waving down at my mom and dad. While they screamed in absolute, paralyzing terror, I stepped forward without a single trace of hesitation. Slowly, I fell backward… Hazel is going to be a little star now! I’m going to fly up into the sky and protect you. “NO!!!” People were screaming. People were crying. Time felt like it had completely stopped.

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1 Suspended three hundred feet above the Manhattan pavement, the freezing wind whipped against my face as I scrubbed the high-rise windows. I wiped away a layer of grime, only to freeze. Through the thick glass, I saw him. Finn. My wife Lisa’s adopted brother, the man who had supposedly died three years ago. He was lounging in a luxurious marble bathtub, completely naked, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face as he crossed one leg over the other. “Lisa almost shipped me off to Europe three years ago just to please her dear husband,” Finn chuckled, his voice muffled but entirely legible through the glass. “Good thing I jumped off that roof. It drove her completely insane. I knew she loved me the most. That little suicide test I planned was worth every drop of blood.” My blood ran cold. The oxygen vanished from my lungs. He faked his death. He used a single suicide note to nail me to the cross as a murderer. Lisa, the woman who once loved me to the bone, was so consumed by grief and rage that she personally forced me into this hell. Knowing I had a crippling fear of heights, she made me dangle from skyscrapers day after day, forcing me to endure the exact terror her brother supposedly felt before he fell. The psychological torture had nearly landed me in an asylum. And to him, it was just a lighthearted test? Acting purely on instinct, I fumbled for my phone and dialed Lisa’s number. The line connected. But the words died in my throat. Because the person stepping into the frame, handing a warm towel to the man in the tub, was Lisa. My hands shook violently. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, plummeting into the abyss below. Inside the bathroom, Lisa frowned in confusion, tossing her own phone onto the vanity counter. “Enough,” she snapped. “I don’t know where you get these sick ideas. I’ve lived in agonizing guilt for three years. Even Penn hasn’t had a single day of peace, yet here you are, living like a king.” Finn didn’t look remorseful in the slightest. He climbed out of the tub, water dripping onto the tiles. Lisa averted her eyes, quickly tossing a bath sheet around his waist. Her face was tight with displeasure. “Go home early and apologize to Penn. I can only keep you hidden for another month.” She paused, turning toward the bedroom. “And even though we’re up high, pull the blinds when you bathe.” My heart violently twisted into a bleeding knot. I instinctively shrank back, trying to hide. But at this altitude, any sudden movement sent the suspension harness swinging wildly. A sudden gust of gale-force wind slammed me face-first into the reinforced glass. The world went black. I woke up to the sharp stench of antiseptic. A tearing pain throbbed at my temples. The sheer, lingering panic of the fall made me bolt upright in the hospital bed, gasping for air. “Penn, are you feeling better?” Lisa walked into the room, a designer gift bag in her hand. A fleeting trace of guilt flashed in her elegant eyes. “How could you be so careless up there? If I hadn’t coincidentally seen you, you would have lost your life.” She set the bag down. “Since it has come to this, your punishment is over. From now on, you can stay home and take care of the household.” My breath hitched. Just yesterday, she had looked at me with absolute disgust, calling me a murderer. Today, I was suddenly allowed to be a house husband again? If I hadn’t accidentally seen them through the window, how much longer would I have carried the weight of a killer? I grabbed her wrist. I gripped it so hard my nails nearly broke her skin. “I explained it to you a thousand times! I told you he jumped on his own, but you never gave me a single ounce of trust!” Hatred, raw and suffocating, clawed its way up my throat. The countless times I had broken down dangling in the sky wrapped tightly around my neck like a noose. “You knew exactly what was going on last month! You knew Finn was acting out a sick play, so why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why did you keep sending me out to wash those damn windows!” My voice cracked, tears streaming down my bruised face. “If you had just believed me, even once.” I screamed until my lungs burned. But Lisa just stood there, leaning silently against the hospital wall. When my tears finally ran dry, she pushed the designer gift box toward me and let out a heavy sigh. “That’s enough. It’s all in the past now. He’s young and immature. Don’t hold a grudge against him.” The string in my mind, stretched to its absolute limit for a thousand agonizing days and nights, finally snapped. A simple it’s all in the past from her lips was supposed to erase my three years of hell. It was supposed to bury the fact that my own mother, unable to bear the public witch hunt, had thrown herself off a building. It was supposed to wipe away the agonizing pain of a man who was almost locked in a psychiatric ward. All the fight drained out of me. A loud crash shattered the silence. Finn stood in the doorway, a shattered glass thermos pooling hot water around his expensive sneakers. He rushed to my bedside and dropped to his knees, forcing out crocodile tears. “Penn, please don’t back my sister into a corner. Ignorance isn’t a crime. She was just heartbroken over me. She only did those things to you to appease the media and the public.” He sniffled, looking up at me. “If you want to hit someone, hit me.” A single tear rolled down Finn’s cheek. He suddenly sprang up, grabbed a fruit knife from the bedside table, and pressed it hard against his wrist. A line of crimson blood welled up. Lisa panicked. She lunged forward, desperately pulling Finn into her arms, pressing her hand against his minor cut. She turned her head, looking at me with exhausted exasperation. “Are you happy now? It’s been three years. Let Finn go, and let yourself go too. Even if his suicide was fake, the fact that you bullied him and made him feel worthless was real.” She turned on her heel and walked out. The designer gift bag she had brought slipped from the table and hit the floor. A sharp, metallic clink echoed in the room. My hands trembled with a sickening rhythm. Like a ghost, I reached down and picked it up. A diamond ring, heavy and brilliant. This was the wedding ring she was supposed to put on my finger three years ago. Lisa and I had been the golden couple of our social circle. We matched perfectly in status and love. But just as I was drowning in the joy of our upcoming wedding, Finn, the adopted stray she had sent abroad, suddenly crashed back into our lives. He begged me not to kick him out after we got married. He twisted the truth at every turn, playing the victim. Even with the strong foundation Lisa and I had, cracks began to form. My mother was the first to see through his act. She cornered Lisa and demanded she send Finn away, threatening to call off the wedding if she refused. But exactly on the day Lisa and I were supposed to exchange rings, Finn stood crying on the edge of a high-rise opposite our venue. He screamed into a megaphone, begging me to let him go in death. Then he jumped. Overnight, I went from the most respected groom in the city to a cold-blooded murderer. The dead are always the ultimate victims. For three years, my ring finger remained painfully empty. I became the biggest joke in high society. Looking at the sparkling diamond, I tried to slide it onto my finger. It wouldn’t fit. I shoved it, twisting the metal against my skin until it bruised. But these hands, once elegant and manicured, had grown thick, calloused, and swollen from years of gripping high-tension ropes in the freezing sky. Hot tears splashed onto the back of my hand. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a crumbled sheet of paper diagnosing me with severe clinical depression, and chewed on a bitter pill I kept wrapped inside it. I smiled, tasting the bitterness. Lisa. I don’t want a ring that is three years late. And I don’t want you anymore, either. Lisa threw a lavish welcome back gala for Finn. She used every connection she had to cover up his lies, personally escorting him through the ballroom to give him face. Yet two years ago, when my mother passed away, she couldn’t even be bothered to attend the funeral. She had just looked at me with fake pity and said she hated crowded spaces. In the blink of an eye, I became the city’s favorite punching bag again. They laughed at the Ivy League graduate who had been reduced to a window washer. They laughed that I couldn’t even compete with an orphaned adopted brother. Three days later, Lisa finally came home. Stripped of her usual icy demeanor, she hugged me from behind, burying her chin into my shoulder. She smelled of expensive champagne and happiness. “I’m so glad Finn is alive. Our family is finally whole again.” When I didn’t respond, she stepped in front of me, pressing her forehead gently against mine. “Alright, I know you’re angry. But do it for me. Let it go, okay? Finn is back, but his depression is severe. I have to fly out to London tomorrow for a business trip. Please take good care of him for a few days.” With that, she walked into her study. She glanced back at me, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as I stood frozen in place. But she didn’t say anything. I gripped my trembling hands together and dry-swallowed a handful of prescription pills. The trauma of the heights combined with the relentless mental torture had ruined me. I lived in constant guilt, my subconscious entirely convinced that I really was a murderer. I thought depression wouldn’t literally kill me. But ever since I discovered her lie, my physical symptoms had worsened drastically. Once the pills kicked in, I walked into the bedroom and opened a wooden box containing my mother’s belongings. I picked up her favorite antique comb and sat before the mirror. I gently brushed my hair. A massive clump of hair fell out, settling lifelessly in my palm. Staring at the face in the mirror, a face so much like my mother’s, I finally smiled. A genuine, relieved smile. “Mom. I’ll be there to keep you company very soon.” I took a USB drive and downloaded the cached videos my private investigator had sent me. Lisa. Before I die, I’m going to leave you one hell of a parting gift. The next morning, a group of burly bodyguards dragged me out of bed. They ignored my protests, threw me into a black SUV, and drove me straight to a massive theme park. They tossed me onto the concrete right at Finn’s feet. These men were Lisa’s personal security detail. Back when I was constantly stalked and harassed by the press, I begged her for just one reliable guard. She flatly refused. Now, she had given them all to Finn. “Penn, didn’t my sister ever bring you to an amusement park?” Finn crouched down, his eyes dripping with malice. “Look up. She rushed the construction on this entire place just to give it to me before her trip.” He smirked, patting my pale cheek. “I heard you’re an expert at high-altitude work now. Be a good brother and scrub the rollercoaster tracks clean for me.” My eyes widened in sheer horror. The panic attack was already starting. “You’re psychotic. Do you honestly think Lisa will let you get away with this forever? I am her legal husband. Doing this to me is slapping her in the face!” “I told you three years ago, I never wanted to steal your sister. I never wanted to kick you out. Why wouldn’t you just listen?” He laughed, picking up a handful of gravel and throwing it hard into my face. Sharp rocks cut my cheek. “If it weren’t for you, I would be the one marrying her.” Before I could process his sick confession, his men hoisted me up. They dragged me to the highest peak of the rollercoaster tracks. The howling wind slapped me relentlessly. I tried desperately to breathe, to stay sane. But then, Finn unhooked the safety carabiner from my chest harness. He stood on the maintenance platform, laughing as I clung to the greasy steel rail for dear life, my entire body violently shaking. Through the dizzying haze, I saw a familiar figure down below. Lisa. She was wearing casual clothes, walking up to Finn and playfully punching his chest. “My flight was delayed. You shouldn’t have waited for me. A rollercoaster? It’s too high and dangerous. Let’s go play something else.” My nose stung. In my memories, she was always in sharp business suits. I had never seen her look so relaxed, so soft. Another violent gust of wind hit me. The rail shuddered. Losing all my pride, I screamed for help. Instantly, every pair of eyes on the ground snapped upward. My heart seized. A sudden, humiliating warmth spread down my legs. “Holy crap, there’s a guy up there! He doesn’t even have a safety line!” a tourist yelled. “Why isn’t anyone helping him? Oh my god, he’s so terrified he peed himself!” Lisa looked up in confusion. The moment our eyes met, my face burned with an unnatural heat. The sheer shame almost drowned me. She turned feral. Her face darkened like a thunderstorm, and she backhanded the nearest bodyguard with a vicious crack. “Get him down right now! Do you have a death wish!” In the last second before I lost consciousness, Lisa wrapped her expensive coat around my shivering body, desperately slapping my cheeks. “Penn, don’t sleep. I’m here.” She held me tight against her chest. She raised her hand high to strike Finn, but stopped at the very last inch. She lowered her arm, exhaling a frustrated breath. “I really have spoiled you too much.” It was the first time I had ever seen her lose control because of me. Yet, she couldn’t even bring herself to slap him. A rusty blade twisted into my heart, carving out the last bit of oxygen. At the hospital, I was hooked up to an oxygen machine. “Miss Lisa, his condition is critical. He absolutely cannot endure any more mental stimulation.” The doctor glanced at me. I subtly shook my head, begging him to keep my secret. “His long-term psychological trauma has severely depleted his will to live.” The doctor kept his word. He hid my severe depression from her. Lisa’s face went pale. She struggled to breathe. “I know I handled things poorly. Finn went way too far this time. I promise you, I will punish him.” The same old excuse. The same empty promise. A tear slid down my temple, soaking into the white pillow. I used every last drop of my strength to pull off the oxygen mask and grab her hand. “Let’s get a divorce. Please.” The hospital room fell dead silent. Only the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor remained. Lisa suddenly grabbed the back of my neck, forcefully pressing her lips against mine in a violent, punishing kiss. “Are you trying to back me into a corner too?” she hissed against my lips. “Is this about the three years of punishment, or his little prank?” “Penn! Don’t even dream of leaving me in this lifetime!” She kissed me until I nearly blacked out from lack of oxygen, then stormed out of the room. As the door clicked shut, I heard her leaning heavily against the wall outside, panting. Lisa didn’t know what the hell she wanted anymore. She hated Finn for lying, but couldn’t bring herself to condemn him. She resented herself for torturing me for three years, but her ego wouldn’t let her apologize. Why was everyone forcing her to choose? She was a victim too! On one hand, she had the childhood friend who saved her life. On the other, the first love she was deeply entangled with. Separated by a single wall, I gripped the bedrails and dry heaved violently. My fingers curled into painful spasms as I pulled out my phone. “Speed up the process. Money is no object,” I texted the investigator. That night, a video of Lisa publicly punishing Finn trended all over social media. I took a deep breath and clicked play. Inside a loud VIP club, a heavily intoxicated Finn was crying, screaming that he wanted to marry her. Lisa dragged him in front of the camera. The crowd held their breath. So did I. A moment later, she uncapped a permanent marker and drew a cartoon turtle on Finn’s face. “A small punishment to teach you a lesson. No more extreme pranks,” she scolded lightly. “Your brother-in-law isn’t a young boy anymore. He can’t handle your roughhousing.” My fingers turned completely to ice. I quietly locked my phone. I pulled out the hospital-issued fruit knife and pressed the sharp tip against my chest, slowly dragging it across my skin. Physical pain was the only way left to drown out the screaming in my head. For a long time after that, Finn stayed far away from me. Lisa was buried in corporate work, but she called constantly to check in. Mountains of expensive gifts arrived at the apartment daily. High society praised her. Three years ago, she punished her husband for her brother, proving she was fiercely just. Now, she showered her traumatized husband with love, proving her loyalty. She became the absolute paragon of elite society. But my body was rapidly shutting down. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother’s bloodied face, screaming at me, asking why I killed someone. Or I felt the vertigo of falling from the sky, waiting for the fatal impact. My phone buzzed. Lisa texted, asking me to accompany her to a high-end auction to get some fresh air. I wanted to refuse, but the catalog she sent included an emerald necklace my mother used to love. I agreed. The auction hall was packed with the city’s billionaires. The moment I sat down, Finn strolled over with a stunning model on his arm. He offered a boyish smile. “Lisa, the CEO of Vanguard Group is waiting for you in the back lounge to discuss the merger. You go ahead. I’ll stay here and keep Penn company. We have so many misunderstandings. It’s time we cleared the air.” My chest tightened. I grabbed Lisa’s sleeve. She hesitated for a split second, then patted the back of my hand. “Wait for me here.” Watching her walk away, I immediately stood up to leave. But Finn slammed his hands heavily onto my shoulders, forcing me back into the velvet chair. “The show is about to start. Don’t you want to see what the opening item is?” The moment the words left his mouth, a spotlight hit the center stage. There was a split second of absolute silence in the grand hall. Then, an eruption of crude laughter. Women covered their mouths, their faces flushed. Men exchanged lewd glances and smirked. My fists clenched so hard my fingernails bit into my palms. On the stage was a life-sized, milk-white sculpture of a naked woman in an incredibly degrading, intimate pose. And the face carved into the marble was the face of the mother I mourned every single night. I surged forward, ready to kill him, but Finn’s chilling whisper stopped me in my tracks. “Sit down. Sit tight and watch exactly how you murdered your own mother.” “If you hadn’t insisted on marrying Lisa, your mother and I wouldn’t have been pushed to such extremes.” The massive LED screen behind the sculpture flickered to life. It was a security footage recording. A video playing my mother’s final, despairing moments on that rooftop, capturing the exact second she stepped into the void. All because of me. “I remember that woman. Born into old money, incredibly arrogant. But then her son became a murderer. She couldn’t handle the shame and jumped,” a socialite whispered loudly behind me. “If I gave birth to a curse like that, I’d jump too.” “I heard the killer is Miss Lisa’s husband.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, turning frantically to find Lisa. And there she was. Standing near the back of the crowd, looking right at me. She gave a microscopic shake of her head. She had promised me weeks ago that she would clear my name. It was all a lie. A stalling tactic. She just didn’t want to make a scene. Just like three years ago. Just like today. I was nothing but a pawn she could sacrifice whenever it suited her image. My phone dinged. The private investigator had just uploaded the final file to the server. I slowly wiped the tears from my eyes. I turned around and sprinted toward the rooftop.

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1 I was in the middle of punishing my wealthy patron in the marble bathroom when the glowing text floated across my vision again. [Does the villainess really think she’s tamed the beast?] [Once the actual female lead shows up, who would want a secondhand kept bird like her?] I ignored them and glanced back down at the man in the bathtub. His expensive dress shirt was soaked through. His silk tie hung loose around his neck. The tips of his ears were flushed a deep crimson. Yet, his sharp, chiseled face broadcasted a single, undeniable message: utter, unyielding defiance. The spark of dominance that had just ignited inside me was instantly doused by those floating comments. I stood up to leave, but he frowned, his voice dropping into a hoarse, magnetic register. “Why are we stopping?” I looked away. “I just remembered I have a kissing scene to shoot today. It’s not polite to keep people waiting.” Reed let out a dry, irritated laugh. “A kissing scene? With Rowan?” I nodded. His eyes darkened with hidden meaning. “This is your third time co-starring with him. Do you really love being his leading lady that much?” I met Reed’s probing gaze and told the truth. “Yes. We have great chemistry.” A cold, mocking smirk touched his lips. “I hear the youngest son of the wealthy Rowan family is a notorious clean freak. If he knew what you looked like begging on a bed, do you think he’d still want to act with you?” I gripped my designer bag tightly, forcing down the spike of humiliation. “It doesn’t matter if you look down on me. Other people don’t.” After I left the hotel, Reed didn’t chase after me. The next time I saw him was on set. Reed was the director, and right now, he was standing up for a part-time college extra. The extra’s name was Laurel. She had a bright, spirited face that had recently gone viral online. To protect her from a creepy gaffer, Reed forcefully claimed her as his girlfriend. I suddenly found it utterly hilarious. The official title he had vehemently refused to give me had now become a convenient tool to rescue someone else. I stood a short distance away, quietly watching him warn the entire crew. “Anyone who messes with her is messing with me.” In the past, he never involved himself in other people’s business. Even when I ran into trouble, I had to literally get on my knees and beg him to intervene. But with Laurel, Reed was entirely different. The floating comments were going crazy. [Our baby female lead is finally here!] [The lighting guy harassed our girl, and the male lead is furious!] [Everyone loves our baby! The male lead is going to be insanely jealous from now on!] So Laurel was the true female lead of this world. No wonder she triggered Reed’s protective instincts the moment she stepped on set. I suddenly remembered how it used to be. Whenever I was bullied and went to Reed for help, he would simply tilt my chin up. His eyes would burn with a predatory heat, his tone teasing and cruel. “What exactly are you going to offer me in exchange? Hmm?” Only after he had tossed me around until I was too exhausted to speak would he leisurely make a phone call and solve my problems with a few words. As for other male actors pursuing me, he would just wrap his arms around my waist from behind, watching the screen of my phone as I typed out rejection texts. His voice was always indifferent. “You don’t need to reject them so harshly. You have to understand, even a kept bird loses its cage eventually. Nora, you need to leave yourself a way out.” “Whenever you decide you want to get married, we can end this at any time.” I had been by his side for so long, yet I had never once seen him jealous. So when the comments claimed he would be insanely jealous over Laurel, my first instinct was pure disbelief. Rowan arrived on set earlier than I did. He was famous in the industry for his flawless temper. Years ago, when I was just a nobody extra, Rowan had bailed me out of trouble countless times. I was just about to walk over and greet him when the text lit up my vision again. [Does the villainess realize the male lead doesn’t want her, so she’s trying to seduce the second male lead?] [She’s delusional. The second male lead has no obligation to pick up a secondhand sugar baby. He will only ever love the female lead.] [Once he finds out about her filthy past, he’ll be utterly disgusted by her.] My hand, raised halfway in greeting, slowly dropped back to my side. The comments always said that if the plot of this novel hadn’t glitched, a cannon fodder extra like me would have rotted away in a dirty trailer park in the Deep South. I wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to be an extra. The author of this world had effortlessly penned the most shameful backstory for me. Born to reckless teenage parents, I was dumped in a rundown trailer park. My grandmother raised me, but she despised my existence. Growing up, I experienced nothing but empty stomachs and beatings. Once I hit puberty, I didn’t even dare step outside, terrified of the creepy old men lurking around the park. Then one night, I had a dream. I dreamt of myself on a massive billboard, beautiful and glamorous. Because of that dream, I stole the meager cash stashed under the floorboards that very night and bought a one-way bus ticket to Los Angeles. Soon enough, I landed gigs as an extra and made my first paycheck. My face even went viral on social media for a day. Suddenly, opportunities were knocking on my door. At that moment, I genuinely believed I could rewrite my own destiny. Until the next day, a friend I made on set took me to a cheap salon to dye my hair blonde. She said a huge indie film needed a specific role, and the director had asked for me by name. The character required blonde hair. I showed up to the casting room with that fried, cheap blonde hair, only to be met with a brutal slap across the face from the director. “Who gave you permission to dye your hair?! You aren’t famous enough to go changing your look without my approval!” All my hard-earned opportunities vanished because of that single slap. After that, I went to his office every single day to beg for another chance. At first, he just rejected me. But eventually, his mind wandered to darker places. One night, he cornered me in his hotel room. “If you know how to keep a man happy, the opportunities will come flooding back, won’t they?” I fought him off with everything I had. In the end, I grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the desk and smashed it into his head, knocking him out cold. Just as I stood there, terrified that my acting career had ended before it even began, I saw a man walking into the suite across the hall. It was Reed. During my time on the studio lots, I had heard the whispers about him. I had even hidden in the crowds, secretly observing him. He had never spared me a single glance. Looking at the bleeding man on the floor, I hesitated for a long time. Finally, I stepped out into the hallway and knocked on Reed’s door. When he opened it, the pure contempt in his eyes shattered whatever dignity I had left. “What? Are you here looking for a sugar daddy too?” At first, I wanted to play the pitiful victim like everyone else did. But looking into those deep, calculating eyes, I chose the truth. “Yes.” “Instead of settling for some old, ugly creep, I want someone young and handsome. Someone powerful enough to actually protect me.” Reed was royalty in the industry. His background was untouchable. He was young, brilliant, and every movie he directed shattered box office records. Every actress in Hollywood would kill to be his leading lady. He was the ultimate patron, the only one who could truly shield me. Reed stared at me. After a long, agonizing silence, he actually laughed. He stepped aside and let me in. He lit a cigarette, staring out the window, not even looking at me. He asked only one question. “And what exactly can you offer me in return?” I still don’t know where my confidence came from that night. “I can make you a lot of money.” He finally looked at me, a smile playing on his lips. “But I don’t need money.” As I stood there, completely lost, Reed suddenly spoke again. “Come here. Kiss me.” I had never kissed a man before. When I finally pressed my trembling lips against his, he remained completely unresponsive. “Terrible technique,” he murmured. “Do you need someone to teach you how to kiss, too?” As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew heavy with tension. But the moment his palm slid down my bare back, he suddenly froze. He let out a low chuckle. “Why are you so skinny? Does the crew not feed you?” The catering on set was actually amazing. I was just severely malnourished from years of starvation. He didn’t touch me again that night. He told me to put my clothes back on and took me out to get food. The next day, Reed handed me a forged ID and a fake college transcript. He erased my trailer park history entirely. He even personally drove me to elite acting classes. When I tried to thank him, he cut me off. “By the way, if you have free time, read a book.” His tone dripped with mockery. “After all, having an uneducated piece of trailer trash as my leading lady is a terrible look.” “Nora? We aren’t shooting a crying scene today. Why the tears?” Rowan’s gentle voice pulled me back to reality. Reed hadn’t come over. He was sitting in his director’s chair, patiently walking Laurel through the script. The assistant director followed my gaze. “That girl has raw talent. Reed recognizes it. He really wants to mentor her into the industry.” Yes, Reed always cherished talent. When he looked at Laurel, his eyes overflowed with absolute admiration. He had never looked at me like that. Years ago, when the media ruthlessly mocked me for being an industry plant and the internet tore me apart, Reed didn’t comfort me. He just sat quietly in the corner, reading a script. Only when I was exhausted from crying did he finally speak. “Why are you crying? Do you think they’re wrong?” The way Reed looked at me was always a mix of condescension and clinical curiosity. When it was time to shoot the kissing scene, the assistant director asked if I wanted to use camera tricks or a stunt double. Reed was fiercely possessive; he hated it when I filmed intimate scenes. For years, almost all my on-screen kisses had been faked. But today, I suddenly didn’t want to play by his rules anymore. “No need. I’ll do it myself.” When the cameras rolled, I grabbed Rowan’s collar, pulling him in. Yet my eyes uncontrollably flicked toward Reed. I pressed my lips against Rowan’s, my heart swelling with a suffocating bitterness. Reed didn’t even look up. He didn’t care. He was too busy laughing at something Laurel said, in such a good mood that he ordered premium coffee for the entire crew. I heard him specifically instruct his assistant, “The new girl doesn’t like bitter things. Make sure you add extra syrup to hers.” When a cup of sickly sweet coffee was handed to me, my heart finally died. It seemed my untouchable patron was finally preparing to discard me. I had looked into Laurel’s background. Old money, highly educated, lacking nothing. She only came to the movie sets to play around as a hobby. The floating comments were right. She and Reed were a perfect match. After my scenes with Rowan wrapped, Reed texted me to meet him. Coincidentally, I had something to tell him too. The hotel suite was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. Tonight, Reed was more aggressive than ever before. As he held me tightly, he whispered against my ear, “I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt you actually had the guts to leave me.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “It was ridiculous. How could you ever bear to walk away from me? From all these resources?” I didn’t argue. When it was over, I asked the same pathetic question I always asked. “Reed, do you love me?” If he actually said yes, I might not have had the strength to leave him. Predictably, he just threw the question back at me. “What do you think?” With Reed, I would never get the answer I desperately wanted. The comments mocked me relentlessly. [The male lead hates stupid people, yet the villainess keeps asking these braindead questions.] [He doesn’t love you. Period. Why keep asking?] They were right. I shouldn’t ask such stupid questions anymore. After his shower, Reed couldn’t sleep. He stood by the balcony, scrolling through his phone, and suddenly laughed out loud. He had a beautiful smile, rivaling any top-tier actor in Hollywood. But he rarely ever smiled when he looked at me. Noticing my gaze, he explained, “The crew just texted me. The new girl caused trouble again. She punched the lighting tech.” “She’s just like you were back then. Throwing punches without thinking about the consequences.” I forced a bitter smile. “Are you protecting her because she reminds you of me?” “I had to beg you for weeks before you were willing to protect me.” The hand holding his cigarette paused. He didn’t look at me. “Really? I don’t remember.” Watching the faint, amused curve of his lips, the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Reed, let’s end this.” His smile vanished, and he finally lowered his head to look at me.

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Returning from a business trip, I casually grabbed the smart kettle on the kitchen counter to pour myself a glass of water. A second later, I froze. The water was ice cold. Victoria and I had been married for three years. She was a militant health fanatic, imposing draconian rules on both herself and me. Our smart kettle was programmed to sit at exactly 99.5 degrees, every single minute of every single day. Once, I accidentally bumped the temperature down a single degree. She lectured me for four agonizing hours. Our house contained absolutely nothing but purified water. Sugar was poison. Even an extra drop of olive oil in a pan was a sin. She had severe OCD and a terrifying need for order, demanding that everything in our lives remain under her absolute control. My heart skipped a beat. I pulled open the refrigerator door. Dozens of plastic cups filled with ice packed the top shelf. Below them sat rows of Coca-Cola and Red Bull. At that exact moment, Victoria’s voice echoed in my head. “Bennett, drinking ice water is a slow suicide.” “Those processed garbage drinks will only accelerate your body’s decay.” I stood paralyzed. It seemed our marriage finally had a third person. A person who made her break every single one of her golden rules. I stood in the entryway with my suitcase. The house was dead silent. I could hear my own heartbeat thumping against my ribs. A faint, unfamiliar scent of men’s cologne lingered in the air. Victoria’s obsession with the water temperature bordered on psychotic. She even had an app on her phone to monitor the smart kettle remotely. Once, when I accidentally tapped the minus button and dropped it to 98 degrees, she came home from work and stared at me with pure disappointment. “Bennett, I have told you a thousand times. Only water at exactly 99.5 degrees can maintain your body’s internal homeostasis.” “Every time you break this rule, you are treating your own health like a joke.” Yet right now, the water in the kettle was completely cold. I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that the kettle was just broken. I let go of my suitcase. My hand moved on its own, pulling the refrigerator door open again. A blast of cold air hit my face, freezing the blood in my veins. The fridge, usually strictly organized with farmers market organics, cage-free eggs, and lean cuts of meat, had been aggressively cleared out. Taking up a massive chunk of space were the ice cups and the sugary, carbonated energy drinks. My head spun. Victoria’s cold reprimands played on a loop in my mind. “Bennett, no more than three grams of sodium a day.” “You must measure the olive oil. Not a single drop over five grams per dish.” “The fat content in this cut of beef exceeds the limit by half a percent. Throw it out.” “All outside food is garbage pumped full of chemicals and preservatives. Do you have a death wish?” So who was going to tell me where all of this junk came from? Who was the man that made the rigidly principled Victoria tolerate all of this? My throat went entirely dry. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, the pain making it impossible to breathe. I slammed the fridge door shut, desperately trying to calm down. I pulled out my phone, ready to call her and demand to know what was going on. Right at that second, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. Victoria was home. “You’re back early?” She looked slightly surprised to see me, but quickly masked it with her usual aloof, clinical expression. “Yeah, the project wrapped up ahead of schedule.” Her eyes scanned the living room as if inspecting a crime scene, finally landing on me. Her perfectly manicured eyebrows twitched in slight annoyance. “Why are the lights off? Don’t you know sitting in the dark degrades your vision?” She slipped off her heels and walked straight into the kitchen, naturally reaching for the kettle to pour a glass of water. When she saw the digital temperature display, her hand visibly jerked. A split second later, she placed the kettle back onto the heating pad as if nothing had happened. My heart sank even further. She saw it. But she didn’t say a word. “Victoria.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Yes?” she replied, not even turning around as she poured a glass of cold water. “Is the kettle broken?” The air in the kitchen instantly solidified. I could practically see her spine stiffen. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her tone flat. “Probably.” But there was a microscopic tremor of panic in her voice. “The clinic has been busy lately. I haven’t been paying attention.” With that, she took a sip of the cold water and practically fled toward the master bedroom. I stood rooted to the floor, staring at her retreating back, a deep chill crawling up my legs. She was lying. Because just seconds ago, when she walked past me, I had clearly smelled that exact same unfamiliar men’s cologne on her clothes. Over the next few days, Victoria became suspiciously busy. She claimed she had to work overtime every single night, coming home incredibly late and looking utterly exhausted. She spoke to me even less. Most of our interactions were reduced to a simple hello and goodbye. The smart kettle magically returned to its permanent 99.5 degrees. The Coke and the ice cups in the fridge completely vanished without a trace. Everything seemed to revert to normal, almost as if that afternoon had just been a paranoid hallucination. But I knew the truth. Some things, once cracked, can never be put back together. Like trust. Tonight, she texted me again saying there was an emergency surgery at the hospital and she wouldn’t be home for dinner. Driven by a dark, undeniable impulse, I changed my clothes, grabbed my car keys, and left the apartment. I parked across the street from the hospital, rolled down the window, and lit a cigarette. I had quit smoking three years ago. The first drag burned my lungs. Through the curling smoke, I watched the hospital entrance. I waited for hours. I waited until the cigarette burned down to the filter, yet I still hadn’t seen Victoria. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Maybe I really was just being paranoid. I reached for the ignition, ready to drive home, when a familiar figure suddenly walked into my line of sight. She had taken off her white lab coat and was wearing a beige trench coat, walking shoulder to shoulder with a young man. I recognized him. He was the new surgical assistant in her department. His name was Felix. He was boyish, wearing thick black framed glasses, looking every bit the innocent scholar. When he smiled, deep dimples showed on his cheeks. Victoria tilted her head to listen to him, a remarkably soft smile blooming on her face. It was a smile full of genuine, unfiltered affection. A look I had never once received from her. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I followed them as they turned into a narrow alley beside the hospital. The alley was a famous local night market, packed shoulder to shoulder with noisy crowds and greasy food trucks. I parked the car and quietly trailed them on foot. The alley was deafening, the air thick with heavy cooking oil and the rich scent of spices. I spotted them immediately. They stopped in front of a food truck selling deep fried skewers. Felix was grinning enthusiastically, pointing at the rows of greasy meat and vegetables on the grill. My feet felt like they were nailed to the pavement. I vividly remembered the year we started dating. I had eagerly brought her to this exact same alley. I had said, “Victoria, let’s try this. It looks amazing.” She had frowned, covering her nose and mouth with a tissue, looking at the grill with absolute disgust. “Bennett, do you have any idea where that meat comes from? Do you know how many times that oil has been reused?” “Every single bite is packed with carcinogens.” “I will never eat garbage like this, and I expect you to never bring me to a place like this ever again.” Her words had been a bucket of ice water, completely extinguishing my excitement. From that day on, I never suggested eating street food again. But right now, she was standing there, watching Felix order a massive pile of glistening, oil soaked BBQ skewers. The vendor handed the food to Felix. He grabbed a giant grilled squid and offered it to Victoria like a prized trophy. “Try this! It’s so good!” The squid was dripping with a thick, heavy sauce. I fully expected Victoria to reject him without a second thought, just like she had rejected me. But under Felix’s expectant gaze, she actually opened her mouth and took a massive bite. “It really is.” She smiled as she swallowed it. A bomb went off in my skull. I felt my entire world violently collapse. Seeing her eat it, Felix smiled so hard his eyes crinkled. He naturally reached out with a napkin and gently wiped a smear of sauce from the corner of her lips. And Victoria didn’t pull away. I remembered what happened just two nights ago. I was cooking a simple stir fry, and my hand slipped, pouring a fraction of an ounce too much olive oil into the pan. She took one bite, spat it into a napkin, and dumped the entire plate of food straight into the trash. She had stared at me with eyes made of ice. “Bennett, how many times do I have to tell you? Fat intake must be strictly monitored.” “Do you just ignore everything I say?” “Look at that plate. Are you actively trying to give me high cholesterol?” I had stammered, apologizing over and over again. Looking back now, it was utterly pathetic. She was perfectly willing to swallow greasy street food for another man. Yet she verbally abused me over a single drop of clean olive oil. It turns out her precious rules and health standards were strictly reserved for the people she didn’t love. I have no memory of how I drove back to the apartment. The image of Victoria smiling as she ate that grilled squid played on a torturous loop in my brain. At eleven o’clock, Victoria finally came home. She pushed the door open and paused when she saw the pitch black living room. “Why are the lights off again?” She flipped the switch. The blinding light made me flinch. She took off her shoes and walked closer. She smelled faintly of charcoal smoke, completely intertwined with that unfamiliar men’s cologne. “You’re still awake?” She sat down on the single armchair, as far away from me as possible. “I was waiting for you.” She avoided my gaze, picking up a glass of water from the table. “I told you I had surgery. You didn’t need to wait.” I let out a bitter, raspy laugh. “Did the surgery go well?” “It was fine.” She gave a vague answer, her eyes shifting nervously. I sat up straight and stared directly into her eyes. “You must be exhausted. I hear the grilled squid in the alley next to the hospital is pretty good. Spicy and rich. Do you want me to bring you some next time?” The second the words left my mouth, Victoria’s face drained of all color. The hand holding her glass trembled violently. “Bennett, what exactly are you implying?” Her eyes sharpened into a defensive glare, practically warning me to back off. “I’m not implying anything.” I leaned back against the couch, feeling as if every ounce of energy had been drained from my bones. “Just thought you might want something heavy for a change. Eating clean and bland all the time gets pretty boring.” “Are you tracking me?” She finally asked the question I had been waiting for. She stood up abruptly. “Why are you acting so passive aggressive? Do we not even have basic trust between us anymore?” Trust? My heart violently seized. From the exact moment she let another man shatter all her golden rules, trust was the first thing in this house to die. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Refusing to look at me again, she practically sprinted to the master bedroom and slammed the door shut. I sat in the dark living room until the sun came up. The next morning, she woke up early as usual to get ready for work. We didn’t say a single word to each other. Just as she was about to walk out the door, I called out to her. “Victoria, next Wednesday is our third anniversary.” Her back stiffened. “I remember.” “I booked a table at the restaurant where we had our first date.” She remained silent for a few seconds before turning around, a perfectly crafted look of apology on her face. “I’m sorry, Bennett. The hospital scheduled a mandatory medical seminar that night. I won’t be able to make it.” “Is that so? What a shame.” I replied with a dead, calm voice, while my heart bled out in my chest. Over the next few days, that assistant named Felix began intruding into my life in the most arrogant ways. One afternoon, I received a local courier package. I opened it to find a massive box of spicy junk food and a handwritten note. “Vicky, you said you loved the snacks I gave you last time, so I bought you a whole box!” Staring at that note felt like taking a baseball bat straight to the jaw. When Victoria got home that night, I tossed the box of junk food and the note onto the table right in front of her. “Did your assistant send this?” She glanced at it, her expression entirely neutral. “Oh, Felix is just a kid. He means well. Don’t overthink it.” I laughed in pure disbelief. “Don’t you despise processed food? But when he sends it, suddenly it’s fine?” “Bennett, can you stop being so incredibly sensitive?” Her eyebrows knitted together, her face radiating absolute impatience. “Felix is young. He’s practically a kid fresh out of med school. I can’t believe you’re actually jealous of him. You’re a grown man, why are you picking fights over a child?” There it was again. She defended him at every turn. Every single fault in our marriage was always blamed on my sensitivity and my paranoia. I looked at her, suddenly realizing I was looking at a complete stranger. It was true. Principles were only weapons used against the people you didn’t love. The day of our anniversary arrived. Just as she promised, she left the apartment early in the morning. I sat alone in the empty, quiet house, looking at the elaborate gifts I had prepared for her, feeling like an absolute clown. As the sun began to set, my phone buzzed. It was a text from a mutual friend, containing a screenshot. It was Felix’s social media post. In the photo, Felix and Victoria were wearing overalls and rubber boots, standing in the middle of a muddy field, smiling radiantly.

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1 At a college reunion, my boyfriend, Rhys, called me a worthless idiot in front of all our friends. My best friend, Zoe, couldn’t take it anymore and pulled me aside. “Look, Ava,” she said, her voice low and urgent, “Everyone in our friend group, since we were kids, has thought Rhys treats you like crap. Why are you still so desperate to cling to him?” Huh? Is that really how they all saw us? A torrent of comments flooded my mind, a phantom stream only I could see. 【Don’t listen to them, Ava! He’s just all bark and no bite. He’s totally, completely in love with you!】 【Classic tsundere. He’ll regret losing his temper in a second, but he’s too proud to apologize. He’s probably curled up in a corner somewhere, hating himself right now.】 Zoe pressed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. “He painted a portrait for that protégée he’s known for three months. He takes shots for her at parties. He even knows her damn period schedule, the difference between daytime and overnight pads…” Her eyes locked on mine. “And you? You drove thirty miles through a storm to get him the wrong kind of paintbrush, and this is how he treats you?” In that moment, I finally ignored the screen. And I was certain. Rhys didn’t love me. Returning home, I found Rhys waiting, his eyes red-rimmed. The moment I walked in, he hurled the paintbrush at my face, his voice a raw mix of anger and hurt. “Are you blind? You can’t even tell the difference between a long-handled and a short-handled brush? Are you good for anything besides causing trouble?” He spat the words out. “You’re pathetic, Ava.” The hard edge of the brush split the skin on my forehead. A drop of blood trickled down, and when I touched it, my hand came away stained crimson. Rhys froze. He let out a sharp, cold huff and turned away, his back rigid as he fumbled through the medicine cabinet. Watching his frantic movements, my heart gave a familiar, foolish flutter. 【Aww, he’s definitely panicking inside. The genius of the art world, helpless against his clumsy girl. I’m shipping this so hard.】 【See? He was mad, but the second he saw her hurt, he softened. It’s so cute.】 But the fragile moment was shattered by the ringing of his phone. It was his protégée, Faye. He dropped the first-aid kit without a second thought and grabbed his paint case. “Don’t worry, I’m bringing the pigments over right now,” he said into the phone, his voice suddenly gentle. “You’ll definitely make it for the competition tomorrow.” Before leaving, he tossed a cup of instant noodles onto the counter without looking at me. “Here. Eat this and go to bed. Don’t wait up.” I stared down at the cup. The noodles were a swollen, sticky mess, a few sad, rehydrated carrot bits dotting the congealed surface. I hadn’t eaten all day, my stomach aching with hunger after the long drive to that century-old art supply store thirty miles away, but the sight of the noodles turned it. “I’m not hungry. You should go.” Rhys’s brow furrowed into a deep line. His voice rose, sharp with frustration. “Now you’re playing the victim? Ava, are you a child? Can’t you just make my life easy for once?” 【I can’t with this heroine. She’s supposed to be the one saving him, but all she does is create drama. Does she have any idea what’s actually important?】 【Seriously. Thank God he’s patient enough to deal with her tantrums. This is getting painful to watch.】 I ignored the swirling text. I watched him smooth down his clothes and hurry out the door, his figure shrinking into a small black dot before disappearing at the end of the street. On the easel was an unfinished painting. I used to be the subject. But with Faye’s birthday approaching, he had hastily painted her over my half-finished form. The cut on my forehead throbbed. But I didn’t bother to clean it. I let the blood blur my vision, and then I picked up the brush I’d driven thirty miles for. And snapped it in two. 2 Rhys was never one for words. But the comments told me it was a form of deep, repressed love, and that I was his only salvation. It started in our first art class together. He glanced at the clouds I’d painted and scoffed. “That’s hideous. It looks like a caterpillar.” I was about to snap back when the comments erupted. 【That’s our male lead! A born critic, even as a kid, hahaha.】 【He’s just got a sharp tongue and a soft heart. He fell for her at first sight, you know. He’s dying to grab the brush and teach her himself.】 I blinked, then glanced over at Rhys. He was peeking at me from the corner of his eye. I pouted. “I just don’t have as many supplies as you.” His handsome brows knitted together in a show of impatience. He shoved his palette of expensive paints toward me. “Take them all. It’ll still be ugly.” His harsh, moody behavior continued for years, and for years, it grated on me. Until I was sixteen. I was walking home alone when a stalker lunged from the shadows, his hand clamping over my mouth. I thrashed wildly, but my limbs grew heavy, useless. I felt the rough tear of fabric as he ripped at my dress. Just before I blacked out, I saw a figure fly past. It was Rhys. He threw himself at the attacker. I was safe. When I woke up, I was in a hospital, and he was in the bed next to me. He’d been stabbed in the stomach and had two broken ribs, the bandages stark white against his skin. But his first thought was of me. I started to panic, but he cut me off, his face a blank mask. “Don’t get all sappy. I was just passing by.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “And you should think about why you were targeted. Always trying to look pretty. Maybe now you’ve learned your lesson.” His words were so ugly they stung more than any wound. I froze, a hot prickling behind my eyes. I looked down at myself. It was my birthday, and my mom had bought me a new floral dress. The teachers had even given me permission to wear it instead of my uniform. Was that my fault, too? The comments rushed to his defense. 【He only followed her home because he heard there’d been trouble in the neighborhood lately. He was secretly protecting her.】 【Totally! He was so jealous earlier when he saw the other guys telling her how pretty her dress was.】 【He’s the strong, silent type who shows his love through actions, not words. I’m crying. When will she finally open her eyes and see how much he adores her!】 I looked up, but all I saw was his averted gaze. And the terrible wounds covering his body. From that day on, I set aside my resentment. I started searching for his love in the spaces between the lines of the comments. And occasionally, I thought I caught a glimpse of it. It felt natural when I started to fall for him, and just as natural when we got together. But Rhys was, without a doubt, a genius. He was a once-in-a-generation painter. Geniuses speak to geniuses, and I was just… ordinary. Then he met Faye, his new protégée, and the delicate balance of our relationship shattered. When inspiration struck, he no longer shared it with me first; he’d rush off to find her. When his depressive episodes hit, he’d smash his canvases rather than let me into his studio, yet he made an exception for her, letting her sit with him, comfort him. When he won an award, he would embrace her first, then toss the trophy into my arms like an afterthought. I complained, countless times, but the comments always insisted he only saw her as a kindred spirit. A rare connection between two artists, a meeting of the minds. I wanted to scream, to demand, “What does she have that I don’t?” But that would be undignified. Humiliating. So I struggled, and I swallowed it all, trying to accommodate his moods, his closed-off nature, his rage. But this time, I was just so tired. Staring at the two halves of the broken paintbrush, a symbol of a past we could never return to, I picked up my phone and began to type a text. 3 One text. I wrote it, deleted it, and wrote it again. My fingertips trembled, and I realized my eyes were burning. Just as I was about to hit send, a call came through. It was Rhys. “Ava,” he said. “It’s raining.” 【He’s not talking about the weather, he’s offering an olive branch! Clumsy girl, you have to see it!】 【Oh my god, for someone with his issues, this is a huge step. He’s really trying, I’m gonna cry.】 The comments seemed to think it was an honor for him to even ask me to run an errand for him. In the past, no matter how late, how tired, or how far, I would have dropped everything to go get him. But not this time. “It’s not that bad,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m tired tonight. I don’t feel like picking you up. You can get upstairs on your own.” A few minutes later, I heard a key in the lock. “Don’t just stand there.” Rhys was half-shielding Faye with his body, carefully dabbing the rain from her hair with his sleeve. “Go get a hairdryer. Got no common sense?” Faye tugged on his shirt and offered me a small, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Ava. Rhys is just blunt, he doesn’t mean it. You don’t have to trouble yourself, really, I’m fine.” She continued, her voice sweet and gentle. “We were at the studio so late, and my place is too far to get to before the competition tomorrow. I hope it’s okay if I crash here tonight. I heard you hadn’t eaten, so I brought you some sushi. I hope you don’t mind.” I forced a tight smile and held up a hand. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” The bento box suddenly clattered to the floor, spilling sushi across the wood. It was a chaotic, sticky mess. “Ava, have you had enough?” Rhys’s eyes went cold as he grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin. “Faye was being nice. What the hell is your problem?” Faye’s eyes welled with tears as she whispered, “Rhys, it was my fault, I dropped it…” But her voice was thick with a theatrical sob, as if she were the one deeply wronged. Rhys’s anger flared. He shook my arm off, sending me stumbling backward. I coughed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Rhys. We’ve been together for seven years. Don’t you remember what I’m allergic to?” He flinched, but his gaze only hardened. He kicked the crushed sushi, sending a piece skidding across the floor to my feet. “You’re just being dramatic, Ava. No princess is born with a princess complex like yours. When you’re hungry, you eat what you can get. You’re just looking for a fight.” The sushi didn’t hurt when it hit my shoe, but I couldn’t stop the tears that threatened to fall. 【He’s dying of guilt right now. He was worried she wouldn’t like the instant noodles, so he specifically asked Faye to bring her dinner, and this is the thanks he gets.】 【This redemption-arc heroine is just an entitled brat. A good partner would be supportive. I feel so bad for him.】 【He’s not good with words, he’s always been like this! Can’t she stop pushing him?】 The comments were a blur of accusations. Ignoring them, I used the sofa to pull myself up and silently started packing a suitcase. Rhys’s fists clenched. He took two steps toward me, but stopped short when Faye let out a small gasp. “Rhys! Your paintbrush… it’s broken. I thought… I thought I was going to get my portrait as a birthday present…” 4 Rhys’s gaze darkened. He lunged forward and seized my shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully. He backed me against the wall. “Ava, what is this supposed to mean?” “There are seventy-nine paintings of you in my studio. Seventy-nine! Why did you have to destroy this one? The one for her birthday? Were you trying to humiliate her?” “First, you buy the wrong brush on purpose, and now you break it. You’re suffocating me, Ava.” My hands stilled. I lifted my head and met his furious eyes. “Is that who you think I am? Sensitive, fragile… petty?” Rhys’s lips formed a tight line. His eyes flickered away for a second, and he took a quick step back, creating distance between us. His gaze fell on the first-aid kit on the floor. He hesitated, almost moving toward it. 【He’s so sweet. Even in a fight, he’s still worried about her cut.】 【His voice is cracking. He regrets what he said. I feel like he’s about to shatter. Can’t she just hug him? Give in a little?】 But I couldn’t understand it anymore. And I didn’t want to. I quietly zipped up my suitcase. “Rhys, let’s break up.” The air in the room went still. Rhys’s back stiffened. He turned his head slowly, his expression one of disbelief. “…What did you say?” A flicker of triumph crossed Faye’s face before she hid behind him, her voice a fragile whisper. “Was it me? Am I making you angry by staying here? I’ll leave right now, I won’t be a bother, I’m so sorry…” “Don’t be scared. You’re staying. This has nothing to do with you,” Rhys said, his hand automatically going to her hair to soothe her. Then his face hardened as he turned back to me, his voice low and dangerous. “Ava, you know I don’t like jokes. And I hate it when people use ‘breaking up’ as a threat. If you walk out that door, there’s no coming back for us.” My nails dug into my palms. I nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. “Okay. This is it, then.” Rhys’s pupils constricted, his shoulders trembling slightly. “Then you’d better have some pride. Get out. And don’t come crawling back when you’re lost in the middle of the night, begging me to pick you up.” The comments went into a frenzy. 【This is killing me. Stop saying the opposite of what you mean! You’re begging her to stay!】 【Hello? A difficult person needs a partner who won’t be pushed away. This is all Ava’s fault for not being the ‘little sun’ she’s supposed to be.】 Their accusations felt like a physical weight, pressing down on me. But I still didn’t understand. How could love be this cold? This volatile? How could it be built on insults and disdain? I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, pulled open the door, and shut it firmly behind me, leaving Rhys on the other side. 【I can’t take it anymore. What kind of redemption-arc heroine is this? She’s dancing on his grave.】 【Right? She knows all his triggers and pokes them just to hurt him. What’s the difference between her and some shrew from the market? Can we tell the writers to replace her with Faye?】 【I second that. Faye is sweet, obedient, and she actually understands him. They’re soulmates.】 I ignored their condemnation. Dragging my suitcase, I walked down flight after flight of stairs, and finally stepped out into the pouring rain.

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1 With gold prices on the rise, I bought a kilogram brick on a business trip and mailed it home. But when the courier arrived for the cash-on-delivery payment, he told me the package was ten kilograms and the shipping fee was ten times the original quote. I hefted the box. I had him test it, too. It was nowhere near ten kilos. His only reply was, “My estimate isn’t accurate.” I pointed to the digital scale right beside the door. He waved it off impatiently. “I only go by what the system says.” Fine. I paid the fee, signed for it, and closed the door. Then, I took out my phone and started recording. “Hello, I insured a shipment of 10 kilograms of gold but only received 1 kilogram. How do I file a claim?” … “The shipping fee is fifty dollars. Please scan to pay.” The courier dangled the QR code in front of my face. I didn’t rush to pay. “Sir, I had this weighed when I shipped it. It was only one kilogram.” “The system says ten.” He couldn’t be bothered to argue, just tapped his screen to show me the number. I smiled and pulled up a video on my own phone. “You see? This is the recording from when I packed it. The scale shows 1.02 kilograms. The timestamp matches, too.” He glanced at it, his expression unchanged. “That’s your scale. Our system says ten.” “Don’t you find a tenfold difference a little suspicious?” “I just deliver. I don’t investigate.” He shoved a stylus at me, his voice dripping with annoyance. “Are you signing or not? If not, I’m taking it back. I have a hundred other stops to make; I don’t have time for this.” I sized him up. He was in his thirties, with the tanned, weathered skin of someone who spent their days on the road. “I purchased full insurance.” At those words, he paused for a fraction of a second. “Insurance is insurance. Shipping is shipping. Two different things.” “Then I’m only willing to pay the fee for the actual weight, which should be five dollars.” “Not happening.” “Why not?” “Because that’s what the system says.” I took a deep breath and, with him watching, dialed the customer service number. He finally looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Call whoever you want.” I sat through three rounds of automated menus before finally reaching a human. I explained the situation. After a few seconds of silence, the agent replied. “Ma’am, our system data is entered at the point of pickup. If you have a dispute about the weight, you can file a claim within 48 hours of signing for the package.” “So you’re saying I have to pay the fifty dollars first?” “Yes.” I looked at the courier. He pushed the stylus toward me again. “Sign. Don’t waste my time.” Standing in my doorway, holding that stylus, the whole situation felt absurd. A package that was obviously one kilogram, and he was insisting it was ten. “Fine.” I started a new video recording on my phone. I took the package, signed my name, scanned the code, and paid the fifty dollars. The courier let out a dismissive snort, then pocketed his device and the receipt and left without a backward glance. The moment the elevator doors closed, I locked my door. I carried the package to the coffee table, carefully filming every angle, zooming in on the label where “10.0kg” was printed in bold. Then, I opened my laptop and pulled up my order details. Insured item: Gold Bar. Declared value: $150,000. Insurance coverage: $450,000. Taking a deep breath, I turned the camera on myself. “My name is Nina Lin, sender and recipient. I purchased full insurance for this package. The contents are gold, and the system weight is recorded as 10 kilograms. The package has now arrived.” I picked up a pair of scissors and slowly sliced through the packing tape. Keeping the box in the frame the entire time, I pulled out the bubble-wrapped contents and placed them on my digital scale. 1.02 kilograms. “The waybill shows 10 kilograms, but the actual weight received is 1 kilogram. I am submitting this unboxing video as evidence to file an insurance claim.” I stopped the recording, saved two copies—one to the cloud, one to my hard drive—and opened the customer service chat. I uploaded the video and all my documentation. Then I typed one final message: “I shipped 10 kilograms of gold and received only 1 kilogram. I am filing a claim for the insured value.” After sending it, I sank onto the sofa and started scrolling through videos on my phone. Less than fifteen minutes later, a system notification popped up. “Hello, your complaint has been logged. We will respond within 48 hours. Please be patient.” I smiled at the message. I had plenty of patience. After all, besides the inflated shipping fee, I hadn’t lost anything. But a 9-kilogram shortfall on an insured gold shipment? That was their problem. 2 I didn’t expect them to drag it out for two full days. When the message finally came, it was a masterclass in corporate deflection. “Dear Valued Customer, upon review, our company has confirmed that your package weight is consistent with the data recorded in our pickup system. The data is accurate. If you have further questions, we advise you to contact the sender for verification. Thank you for your understanding.” I read the message three times. I was the sender. I was also the recipient. They were telling me to contact myself. Taking a deep breath, I called the customer service line again. “Hello, you’ve reached agent 4317. How can I help you?” “Hi, my phone number is associated with a complaint filed two days ago regarding a weight dispute and an insurance claim.” “One moment, let me look that up for you.” The sound of clacking keys went on for a while. “Ma’am, I see here that your complaint has been resolved.” “Resolved? What about my claim?” “The system shows the weight was correct, therefore the claim is invalid.” “The system shows 10 kilograms, and I received 1 kilogram. How is that correct?” “Ma’am, please don’t get upset. Our system data wouldn’t…” “I know all about your system data! I have a video of the weigh-in from when I packed it. I have screenshots of the insurance purchase. The time, location, and weight all line up perfectly!” The line went quiet for a few seconds. “Ma’am, my authority here is limited. Would you like me to transfer you to a regional customer manager?” “Yes.” I knew it wasn’t her fault; I didn’t want to waste any more time with a script-reader. “Hello, Ms. Lin? This is Mr. Leighton from the East Coast Customer Management department.” His voice was older, polished, the sound of someone who had handled countless calls like this. “Mr. Leighton, you should have my case file.” “I do, I do. It was sent right up.” “Alright, Ms. Lin, let me explain. To process an insurance claim, you need to provide proof of loss. You say you shipped 10 kilograms of gold. Do you have a receipt for that purchase?” I didn’t answer. It was faint, but I heard a soft chuckle on his end. “Ms. Lin, I’ve been in this business for seven years. I’ve seen situations like yours more times than I can count. People ship something worth a few bucks, buy a massive insurance policy, and then claim something went missing.” “I’m not saying this is you, of course. But that sort of thing constitutes fraud.” My fingers tightened around the phone. “Are you accusing me of fraud?” “I didn’t say that. I’m simply stating a fact. Without proof of purchase for the gold, your claim will not be approved.” “Then what about your system changing a 1-kilogram package to 10 kilograms and overcharging me for shipping?” “What ‘change’? The system entry is 10 kilograms. Maybe you added something to the box after you packed it? What does your little video prove? For all we know, you could have tossed a couple of bricks in there after you stopped filming.” A hot spike of anger shot through my temples. “Mr. Leighton, I have evidence for every single step of this process. I suggest you handle this matter with care.” His tone shifted, becoming slick with condescension. “Ms. Lin, I’ve been around this block more times than you’ve had hot dinners. If you really think you have a case, feel free to take us to court. Or complain to whoever you want. Is that all?” Click. He hung up. I was gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles were white. Thankfully, I had the call recorder running. Before I could even put the phone down, it buzzed again with an unknown number. “Is this Nina Lin?” The voice was familiar. It was the courier. “Did you file a complaint against me?” I didn’t answer. “Listen to me carefully. You’d better withdraw that complaint, and fast. If you don’t, every package you ever get is going to be held up. You can come down to the depot and pick them up yourself.” “Is that a threat?” “I’m giving you some friendly advice. A woman living all by herself… I know what time you leave, what time you get back. Don’t make trouble for yourself.” The call was still recording. “Are you finished?” “Withdraw the complaint.” I hung up. Fury, cold and sharp, washed over me. My hand holding the phone wouldn’t stop shaking. I sat on the sofa, exported the two audio files from today, and organized them into a folder with all my other evidence. Then I picked up my phone and dialed 911. “Hello, I’d like to report a crime.” 3 The officer who took my report, Officer Davis, asked for my address and the basic details, then told me to bring my evidence to the local precinct to make a statement. I tossed the flash drive and my phone into my bag and headed out. I had just pulled out of my parking spot when a group of men blocked my car. The one in the lead was wearing the dark blue uniform of the courier company. I recognized the courier, Rick, instantly. “What do you think you’re doing?” His expression flickered, then hardened into a scowl. “Are you going to withdraw the complaint or not?” I ignored him and started to steer around them. He darted in front of my car again, blocking my path. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m asking you a simple question. Are you withdrawing the complaint!?” As I turned the wheel again, a short, stocky man with a crew cut stepped up and rapped on my driver-side window. “Easy there, sister. Rick just wants to have a little chat.” I clutched my phone, the video camera already recording. “Move!” Rick let out a derisive laugh. “A woman like you, was it really worth it? You got me fined five hundred bucks and cost me my bonus. Are you happy now?” “Why should I have to pay over a hundred dollars extra?” “It was your package, you should pay for it!” The men around him snickered. I stopped talking and just hit the gas, trying to get away. This time, they swarmed the car, completely surrounding it. The man with the crew cut squatted down, took a picture of my license plate, and sent it to someone. Rick lit a cigarette, then casually raised a tire iron. BANG. He brought it down hard on the hood of my car. I jumped, shrinking back in my seat and frantically checking that the doors were locked. CRUNCH! SMASH! Rick stepped back to finish his cigarette while the other men took turns beating on my car. I fumbled with my phone and dialed 911 again, quickly giving them the address and telling them I was being attacked. The response was faster than I expected; two officers were already patrolling nearby. “Police! Don’t move!” Rick’s cigarette dropped from his mouth. He spun around, and his face went sheet-white when he saw the uniforms. Another man, who had been wielding a steel pipe, was so startled he dropped it on his own foot with a yelp. “It wasn’t me!” Rick stammered. “I was just standing here having a smoke.” “All of you, up against the wall. IDs out.” As the four men were being detained, I looked at my car. It was a wreck. Officer Davis looked from the mangled vehicle to the video on my phone, his expression grim. “Ms. Lin, let’s go inside so you can make a full statement.” The deposition took nearly two hours. I laid out everything, from the 10-kilogram package to the attack in the parking lot, in chronological order. And for every point, I had a corresponding photo, audio recording, or document. “We’ve confirmed the vandalism,” Officer Davis said. “We caught them in the act, and the exit of your parking garage has a security camera. They’re not getting away with this.” “The courier said he didn’t do anything, but he was the one who started it!” “Don’t you worry about that, Ms. Lin. The camera doesn’t lie.” It was dark by the time I left the precinct. My car had been towed to a repair shop. Late that night, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered. “Ms. Lin. This is Mr. Leighton.” “I heard about what happened today. Perhaps we could talk?” 4 The doorbell rang at two o’clock the next afternoon. Two men stood outside my door. Mr. Leighton was shorter than I’d imagined. Beside him was a man in glasses holding a briefcase. “Ms. Lin, this is our legal counsel, Mr. Cole.” I opened the door a little wider but didn’t invite them in. Leighton didn’t seem to mind. He smiled and stepped aside. “We can talk here. I’ll be direct. What Rick and his friends did yesterday was out of line. The company is deeply sorry.” Mr. Cole pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to me. “Ms. Lin, this is the settlement agreement the company has prepared. Please take a look.” I took the single sheet of paper. The terms were neatly typed. 1. Compensation for all vehicle repair costs, based on receipts. 2. Refund of the overcharged shipping fee of $45. 3. $750 for emotional distress. 4. Nina Lin will sign a non-disclosure agreement and withdraw all police reports and customer service complaints. 5. Both parties will waive any further claims against each other. I handed the paper back. “$750?” “With the car repairs, the total amount is quite substantial,” Leighton said, his voice smooth and gentle. “And Rick?” “He’s received an internal reprimand and will be transferred to a suburban depot next month.” “Not fired?” “Ms. Lin, we’re all adults here. Rick’s not having an easy time. His wife just had a baby. Try to have some sympathy. We’re all just ordinary people trying to get by.” He folded his hands in front of him, bowing slightly. “Honestly, Ms. Lin, while Rick was certainly at fault yesterday, your attitude was, how should I put it, a little… confrontational. You provoked him. If everyone takes a step back, we can all move on.” “My attitude was confrontational, so he smashed my car.” “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Leighton said, waving his hands dismissively. “I’m just saying, let’s meet in the middle. For a young woman like you, dragging this through the courts is time-consuming. And if the media gets hold of it, it could be damaging to your reputation.” I didn’t like his choice of words. “Let me get this straight, Mr. Leighton. Your system changes 1 kilogram to 10 and overcharges me nearly nine times the fee. I complain, and your customer service says the system is correct. I call you, and you accuse me of insurance fraud. I call the police, and your courier and his friends vandalize my car right outside the precinct. And now you’re offering me $750 to sign an NDA?” “Plus the vehicle repairs,” Mr. Cole added. “The car repairs are something you owe me regardless. That’s not compensation.” Leighton’s smile finally tightened. “Ms. Lin, I can fire Rick. Give you that satisfaction.” “I think that’s not enough.” “Then what do you want?” “If you had refunded my shipping fee at the beginning, this would be over. But now my personal safety has been threatened.” The hallway was silent for a moment. Leighton straightened up, the last shred of politeness vanishing from his face. “Think this through, Ms. Lin. If this goes to court, it might not end well for you. That insurance claim of yours will never be approved, no matter what. And filing a false claim has consequences.” He took the settlement agreement, folded it, and slipped it into his pocket before turning to leave with the lawyer. “Don’t be rash, kid.” The elevator doors closed. At eleven that night, my best friend, Sophie, sent me a text. “Nina, you need to see this.” It was a heavily edited video. The caption read: “Woman Ships 1kg of Fakes, Tries to Claim 10kg of Gold in Insurance Scam.” The comments were already in the thousands. “Classic grifter.” “Do you know how hard delivery guys work? People like her are disgusting.” “Another one trying to get rich off insurance fraud.” “Hope the company reports her to the police.” The account that posted it was called “A Day in the Life of a Courier,” with a cartoon delivery guy as the profile picture. It had been posted two hours ago and already had over a million views. My phone started vibrating. An unknown number. Then another. And another. A text came through: “Nina Lin, you live at [My Address], right? You scamming bitch.” Sophie called me, her voice frantic. “Nina, are you okay? I’m coming over. We can record a video to clear your name. I was there when you packed and weighed it. I can be your witness.” I sat on the sofa, my phone buzzing incessantly in my hand. “Don’t.” “What?” Sophie’s voice rose. “You’re not going to fight back? Do you see what they’re saying in the comments?!” “I see it.” “Then why…?” “Let them. The bigger the spectacle, the better.” Sophie was quiet for a few seconds. “What are you planning, Nina?” I didn’t answer her. Instead, I scrolled through my contacts to a number I had saved years ago but never once called. My thumb hovered over it for a moment, then I pressed down. “…Nina?” The voice on the other end was calm, but with a clear note of surprise. I took a deep breath. “Aaron. I need your help.”

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1 The night I caught my husband hooking up with my best friend, I had just gotten back from picking up my son and grabbing groceries on a battered bicycle. Clothes were violently scattered across the living room floor. Dripping wet in my cheap raincoat, I walked right into them cuddling on the leather sofa in the afterglow. The smell of the discount store spaghetti and meatballs in my hands couldn’t mask the heavy scent of sex filling the room. My son rushed forward. He practically jumped up and down, screaming his lungs out to welcome his new mommy. I lost my mind. I hurled the bags of meatballs right at their naked bodies. But no matter how hysterical I got, Chuck remained deadpan. He forced me out of the house with absolutely nothing to my name. His excuse was simple. They already had a baby on the way. Seven years later, I finally returned to Bayview. Walking out of the luxury mall restroom, I bumped right into a ghost from the past. “Maureen? Is that really you?” Chuck’s face lit up like he had struck gold. He stepped right into my personal space. “Where on earth have you been all these years?” I froze. Of all the places in this massive city, the universe just had to throw this sick joke at me. Seeing my silence, Chuck didn’t even have the decency to feel awkward. He just kept talking. “You vanished into thin air after the divorce. I looked everywhere for you.” “Someone finally told me you left Bayview entirely.” He paused, softening his gaze into something sickeningly gentle. “You look stunning. How have you been treating yourself?” “Look, I blame myself. I was young, arrogant. I shouldn’t have made you leave with nothing.” Hearing him gloss over that absolute nightmare made my stomach churn. “Mr. CEO, I’ve been doing just fine. You really don’t need to lose sleep over me.” He blinked, then let out a forced, bitter chuckle. “Maureen, I know you hate my guts.” “What happened back then… I just couldn’t control my feelings for her. My hands were tied.” “But honestly, all these years, I never forgot everything you did for our home.” He reached into a bright orange shopping bag and pulled out a jacket he had just bought, holding it out to me. “I’ve always felt guilty, but I never knew how to make it right.” “Take this. It’s freezing out there.” I stared at the hideous, clearance rack jacket and my lips twitched. “I’m good, Chuck. Really.” His eyes swept up and down my body. He stubbornly shoved the fabric against my chest. “Just take it. Sienna has a closet full of these anyway.” “It’s not a designer piece or anything, but I bet it still costs more than your rent.” I paused and looked down at my outfit. I wasn’t wearing a custom tailored suit with a massive luxury logo. I had on a slightly frayed gray knit sweater. I also smelled heavily of expensive bourbon from a brutal networking dinner I had just left. I suppose I did look like a pathetic corporate slave grinding away for pennies. Seeing that I wasn’t putting it on, he sighed heavily. “You haven’t been back once. Noah misses you, you know.” Hearing my son’s name made me scoff. I finally gave him a real reaction. “Isn’t he living the dream with his brand new mommy?” Chuck let out a soft laugh. “See? I knew you still cared about him.” A wave of absolute disgust washed over me. Before I could tell him off, Chuck kept rambling. “He was just a kid back then. Kids say stupid things when they’re mad. But you’re his biological mother. He talks about you all the time.” “He just thinks you abandoned him because you never reached out.” He took a breath. “Come over to the house when you have time. See Noah. We can put the past behind us and catch up like adults.” I laughed out loud. “Wouldn’t your wife have a problem with that?” Right on cue, a sickly sweet voice echoed behind me. “Why would I? You’re my absolute best friend.” “It’s been so long, babe. I missed you to death.” 2 I turned around. Sienna was strutting toward me, dripping in designer logos and carrying a dozen shopping bags. Her pregnant belly was obvious. She threw an arm over my shoulder with fake intimacy and rested her head against me. “Oh, Maureen. You just up and left after the divorce. You didn’t even look back to check on your oldest friends.” She let go of me and locked her arm around Chuck’s elbow instead. “Since we ran into each other, you have to come over.” “Plus, I’m pregnant with my second baby! I’m due soon. We should totally have dinner to celebrate.” I subtly wiped the cheap foundation she left on my shoulder. “I’ll pass. I have places to be.” “Oh, stop being so shy! It’s just dinner.” Sienna blocked my path. “Honestly, I always felt super bad about what happened.” “But Chuck and I are soulmates. True love wins, you know? I’m sorry you had to be the collateral damage.” “We can definitely afford to treat you to a nice meal. Looks like you could use some real food anyway.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Chuck on the cheek. “Right, honey?” Chuck went rigid, but he awkwardly patted her head and turned to convince me. “She’s right, Maureen. We hired a new private chef. Let’s just have one meal together.” I thought for a second. The real reason I returned to Bayview flashed in my mind. I decided to play along. “Sure. Let’s go.” Sienna’s smile cracked. A flash of dark annoyance crossed her face, but she forced her plastic grin back into place. Chuck, on the other hand, looked thrilled. He eagerly led the way out. A sleek Range Rover was parked by the entrance. Chuck hopped into the driver’s seat. Sienna slid into the passenger side, throwing me a smug, victorious look through the window. I got into the back seat, finding the whole thing completely hilarious. She really didn’t need to flex so hard. Back when Chuck and I were actually married, he never let me sit in the passenger seat either. My only mode of transportation used to be that rusty little bicycle. Rain, shine, sleet, or snow. Whether I was buying groceries or picking up our son, that bicycle was all I had. I used to beg Chuck to buy me a cheap used car. Anything with four doors and a heater. We had the money. A decent used sedan would have cost a few grand and saved me from freezing to death on the winter roads. But Chuck always said it was a waste of cash. He claimed I was a terrible driver and that traffic was too bad anyway. He gaslit me into thinking the bicycle was a privilege. But I had a pristine driving record. I even used to race on amateur tracks before we got married. He just didn’t want to spend a dime on me. Then, I watched him buy Sienna a hundred thousand dollar sports car. When she totaled it rear ending someone, he dropped everything, ran to the scene, and bought her a brand new one the next day. That was the day I realized he didn’t think a car was a waste of money. He just thought I wasn’t worth it. Memories flooded my mind until the SUV pulled up to the house I used to call home. Chuck knocked on the door. It swung open, revealing a face pale with shock. “Mom?” 3 I locked eyes with Noah. Seven years had passed. The little toddler who hadn’t even started kindergarten was now a lanky teenager drowning in a private school uniform. “Come on in.” Chuck eagerly placed a pair of guest slippers at my feet. As I stepped inside, Noah nervously backed away. I ignored him. I sat on the sofa and looked around. The interior was mostly the same, but the vibe was entirely corrupted. Expensive women’s coats overflowed on the coat rack. Bright plastic toys littered the hardwood floors. The room I had originally painted and prepped for Noah now had a baby gate across the door. A little boy, maybe five or six, came crashing through it holding a plastic sword. He sprinted straight at Chuck. “Daddy! Look at my castle!” He bulldozed through the living room, knocking over decorative vases and kicking toys out of his way. Noah silently crouched on the floor, picking up the mess. As his sleeve rode up, I noticed faint, fresh scratches on his forearm. I knew exactly what the situation was. This kid was the baby Sienna was carrying when she blew up my marriage. The baby that made Chuck force me out onto the streets. Sienna’s overly sweet voice drifted from the hallway. “Toby just worships his dad.” She rubbed her pregnant belly, looking at the father and son with pure adoration. Meanwhile, Noah, the boy who used to scream for his new mommy, was left kneeling in the dust. My face remained blank. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. The chef brought out the food. Chuck pried Toby off his leg and gestured for me to sit. The silver lids were lifted, revealing thick clouds of steam. Toby immediately started screaming. He wanted the Wagyu beef. He wanted the king crab. He hoarded half the massive pot onto his tiny plate before anyone else could even pick up a fork. Chuck shot me a nervous look, his ego taking a hit. “Toby, finish what you have first. Where are your manners?” Sienna just laughed and piled more meat onto Chuck’s plate. “Oh, relax. He’s just a growing boy. It doesn’t matter.” She grabbed Chuck’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “I bet the little guy in here is going to be just as wild as his big brother.” Chuck’s scowl instantly melted away. Amidst their picture perfect family moment, Noah finally reached out with his chopsticks to grab a single crab leg from the pot. The second he did, a heavy serving spoon slammed down on his wrist, knocking the crab onto the floor. Toby stood on his chair, screaming at the top of his lungs. “That’s my house’s food! You’re a beggar! You don’t get to eat!” Noah’s hand trembled violently. A bright red welt swelled on his skin. Chuck’s face went dark. “Toby! Do not treat your brother like that!” Toby shrieked back. “He’s not my brother! My mom didn’t make him! He’s the son of that ugly bitch!” Dead silence fell over the dining room. I slowly turned my head and stared dead into Chuck’s eyes. His face turned the color of bruised plum. He raised his hand, ready to strike the kid. “You little brat! Is that how you speak in front of me?” Before the slap could connect, Sienna caught his wrist. She giggled softly. “Oh, Chuck, stop. Boys will be boys. They just play rough.” She threw a sideways glance at me. “Maureen is a big girl. She’s not going to get offended by a toddler, right?” Noah looked at me with pure terror in his eyes. Chuck was sweating, watching my expression. I didn’t say a word. I just calmly picked up my crystal glass and took a sip of water. Seeing my absolute indifference, Noah finally broke. His voice cracked with a suppressed sob. “Mom…” Sienna cut him off immediately. “Alright, Noah, that’s enough whining. Get on your knees and clean up the food you dropped.” Noah slowly crouched down. His skinny frame shook as he picked up the dirty crab leg from the floor. “Yes, Aunt Sienna.” Behind him, Toby stuck his tongue out and danced around victoriously. Sienna chuckled again, dropping an overcooked piece of beef into my bowl. “Kids are just so chaotic. Don’t be shy, Maureen. Eat up.” “Chuck is so unoriginal. He just buys me the most expensive ingredients to keep me healthy. We eat this luxury stuff every single day. Honestly, I’m getting sick of it.” I pushed the bowl away. “I’m full. My business partners forced me to eat lobster and caviar earlier, and the bourbon hasn’t settled yet.” Sienna’s smug smile froze. Her face twisted into something ugly. It took her a long time to put her fork down. She forced out a dry laugh. “Right. You must be working so hard. Hustling everyday, begging clients for pennies.” “Not like me. Chuck spoils me rotten. I don’t even have to leave the house. If I point at something, he buys it.” Her eyes drifted down to my frayed sweater, and she actually let out a snort. “Your boss is terrible, though. Letting you work yourself to the bone and paying you peanuts. Walking into a client meeting looking like a homeless person? No wonder you have to drink so much to close a deal.” She stood up, walked into her bedroom, and came back with a stack of outdated, gaudy neon dresses. “Here. Take these. They’re old season, but they are a million times better than the rags you’re wearing.” She forcefully shoved the pile into my lap. “Take them. We’ve known each other for over a decade. Consider it charity.” I didn’t even blink. I shoved the pile right back off my lap, brushed the lint off my sweater, and smiled. “No thanks. My family knitted this for me. It keeps me warm.” Chuck’s face drained of all color. “Maureen… what are you talking about? Your parents died the same year we got divorced.” 4 The temperature in the room dropped below freezing. I clenched my fists under the table. The one memory I wanted to bury forever started playing on an endless loop in my mind. It was raining outside. Just like it was seven years ago. I was wearing that suffocating plastic raincoat. Massive raindrops felt like stones hitting my shoulders. Bags of cheap groceries dangled precariously from the handlebars. Noah was hiding behind my back. The plastic visor of my helmet was blurred by the storm. I wobbled through the aggressive city traffic on that dying bicycle. A massive truck blew past us, spraying a tidal wave of filthy street water directly into my face. I swerved, lost control, and slammed right into the metal guardrail. Mud soaked through my clothes. The groceries flew into the dirty puddle. I panicked, scrambling to check on Noah. Thank God my maternal instincts kicked in and I had shielded him with my body before we hit the ground. Cars behind us blared their horns. Blocks of tofu were crushed into white mush on the asphalt. I was on my hands and knees, desperately trying to salvage whatever food wasn’t ruined. Noah stood on the sidewalk under an awning. He didn’t come to help. He just stared at me like I was a diseased rat. When I finally scraped everything together, only one sealed bag of cheap veggie meatballs had survived. I dragged the heavy bicycle upright, shoved the meatballs into my pocket, and waved for Noah to get back on. He reluctantly crawled under the back of my raincoat, muttering loud enough for me to hear over the rain. “Why do you always pick me up? Why can’t Dad and Aunt Sienna do it? They have cool cars.” He shifted uncomfortably against my wet back. “You ride this piece of junk and carry stinky groceries. Everyone at school is laughing at me. I’m so embarrassed.” Every single word pierced straight through my heart. My soaking wet clothes clung to my freezing skin. The rain slashed against my face, and I blinked hard to keep the tears from falling. I didn’t yell. I didn’t defend myself. I just gripped the handlebars and focused on getting him home alive. I thought to myself, Once we get home, it’ll be fine. Once we get home, I can take a hot shower. I can cook a warm meal for my family. But when I dragged my exhausted body through the front door, there was no warmth waiting for me. There was only the heavy stench of sex and clothes littered everywhere. The shock paralyzed me. I stumbled blindly into the living room. On the expensive leather sofa I had saved up to buy, Chuck was buried deep in Sienna. They were completely naked, except for Sienna wearing my silk nightgown wrapped around her neck. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare. A guttural, shattered scream ripped out of my throat. But even then, my very first instinct was to turn around and cover Noah’s eyes. I didn’t want my baby to see this trauma. Instead, he violently shoved me away. He sprinted toward the two naked adults, clapping his hands in pure joy. “Daddy! You finally brought Aunt Sienna home! Does this mean she’s my new mommy now?” I stopped breathing. The floor vanished beneath me. Chuck didn’t even have the shame to cover up. He laughed, reached out, and ruffled Noah’s hair. “That’s right, buddy. You always wanted a pretty, nice mom, right? Aunt Sienna is your new mom now.” He grabbed Noah’s little hand and placed it on Sienna’s flat stomach. “Look. Your new mommy already has your baby brother in here. We’re going to be a real family.” Noah jumped up and down, absolutely ecstatic. “Yes! Yes! I’m getting a brother and a new mom!” He turned around and pointed his little finger right at my face. “I don’t want this broken mom anymore. She’s ugly, she’s old, and she makes me look like a loser!” And Sienna. The girl who had been my best friend since high school. The girl who stood next to me at my wedding. Twelve years of sisterhood. She laughed, pinched his cheek, and looked right into my eyes. “That’s right, baby. I’m your mommy now.” Something inside my brain just snapped. I pulled the bag of veggie meatballs out of my pocket and hurled it at their faces with everything I had. They scattered across the expensive rug. I threw myself at them like a rabid dog. I swung my fists wildly, but I was so weak from the cold that my punches felt like nothing. The next second, Chuck grabbed my shoulders and violently threw me backward. My spine slammed directly into the sharp edge of the glass coffee table.

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On the fifth round of IVF, I was finally pregnant with Marcus’s child. When I ecstatically showed him the positive test results, Marcus suddenly said, “Actually, your student, Melissa, and I… we already have twins.” The world tilted, the color draining from my face. But Marcus looked at me, his expression earnest. “Do you know why your first few IVF attempts failed? Because Melissa didn’t want you to suffer, so she secretly intervened.” “She was willing to carry my children for you. How could I deny her and our sons a family?” “And now you’re pregnant too. So, you can either accept this calmly and give our child a complete family, not to mention a respectable father.” “Or, you can make a scene, become a broke, single mother with no one to rely on.” “The choice is yours.” After he left, I sat in the dark for the entire night. And then, I made a third choice. 1 Marcus left in a hurry. “Melissa heard you’re pregnant. She’s terrified I’m going to abandon her. I need to go check on her,” he said, his voice laced with a false sense of duty. “I know you must be a wreck right now, so I’ll give you some space to think things over.” I sat on the balcony, the cold night wind whipping around me, until dawn. When he returned in the morning, carrying breakfast, I asked him a single question. “Can you treat us both fairly?” Marcus was taken aback for a second, then gave a weary smile. “My thing with Melissa… it started as a drunken mistake. But it turned out we were just… incredibly compatible.” “You and I tried for so long, and nothing. With her, it happened the first time.” “Melissa is a kind soul. She was so worried you’d be heartbroken that she secretly went to get an abortion.” “If I hadn’t stumbled upon the hospital bill, I would never have known that child even existed.” “After the procedure, she was consumed by guilt and fell into a deep depression. Her doctor said the baby was the root of her trauma.” He paused, looking at me cautiously. My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “So, to make it up to her, you had twins with her.” “Well, that’s part of it. Mostly, she knew how much the IVF was taking out of you. She didn’t want you to suffer anymore.” “Besides,” he said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather, “a child is a child. Whether she gives birth or you do, they carry my blood. It makes no difference.” “With Melissa, I feel a mix of pity and gratitude. But no matter what, she can’t compare to the eight years you’ve spent by my side.” He took my hand, his touch as gentle as the day he proposed, his eyes swimming with feigned devotion. “Anya, I’m not asking you to accept her. Just turn a blind eye to my other family, and I promise, she will never overstep her bounds.” “You will always be Mrs. Blackwell. Of course I can treat you both fairly.” I gently pulled my hand away and produced the agreement I’d prepared. “Just in case. Sign it.” Marcus glanced at it, raising an eyebrow. “One instance of favoritism costs me a hundred thousand dollars?” I pointed to the addendum. “That’s the base price. The final amount for emotional damages will be determined by the severity of your bias. No upper limit.” “Marcus,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Do you dare sign it?” 2 Marcus chuckled softly. “If it gives you peace of mind.” He signed his name with a confident flourish. “Anya, I do love you.” “As long as you don’t cause trouble for Melissa, I’ll try to spend more time with you.” I felt a wave of dizziness. Marcus and I were college sweethearts. I was with him when he went from bankrupt and drowning in debt to staging a stunning comeback. We lived in a cramped basement apartment, scavenged for leftover vegetables at the market. We’d split a single bagel, and I’d always give him the bigger half. I wore the same old clothes for years, saving every penny to buy him decent suits for his business meetings. He used to be so good to me. No matter how exhausted he was, he’d always cook me noodles when I came home from a late shift. No matter how busy, he set aside one day a week just for me. He said I was his motivation, that everything he did was for me. One year, on our anniversary, he was stuck out of town on business. He felt guilty about it for months. But now, spending time with me was a reward to be doled out. The thought was devastating. And after the devastation came a profound, crushing weariness. Marcus didn’t notice a thing. His voice held the arrogant tone of a benefactor. “I’ll stay and have breakfast with you today.” He took a breakfast burrito out of a paper bag and handed me a freshly made cup of oatmeal. “Here. From that cart near campus. Your old favorite.” I sighed and reached for it. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at me and answered it on speaker. “Daddy! Daddy!” a child’s voice chirped from the other end. A smile bloomed on Marcus’s face. “What’s wrong, buddy? Is Mommy awake yet?” “Mommy’s sick! She’s crying!” The smile vanished from Marcus’s face. “Stay right there. I’m on my way.” He grabbed his car keys and bolted. The cup of oatmeal tipped over, spilling onto my skirt. It scalded my leg, leaving a painful red welt. He never even looked back. As I was treating the burn, he called. “Melissa is such a silly girl. She didn’t want to bother you, so she tried to hide being sick. I can’t leave her alone. I’ll stay here today to take care of her. You can go to your prenatal check-up by yourself, right?” I looked at the blistered skin on my thigh. I wasn’t surprised. And before I even had a chance to feel sad, he hung up. I sat there for a moment. Then I took a picture of my leg and sent it to him. [Your scales weren’t balanced. Compensation for distress plus medical fees, total $180,000.] A long time passed, so long I thought he hadn’t seen the message. Then, the notification sound for a bank transfer chimed. It was followed by a voice message from him. [I sent you an extra twenty thousand. Next time, don’t resort to these immature, attention-seeking games where you hurt yourself.] [I won’t be back for a couple of days. You need to calm down and think things through.] I had to laugh. He actually thought I’d burned myself on purpose to win his affection. In his eyes, I had become a helpless, clinging vine, capable of nothing but manipulation. But I was a graduate of a top university, an honors student. Before I even finished my degree, a major corporation had offered me a position heading their overseas R&D department. It was because I couldn’t bear to leave Marcus that I gave up that opportunity. I chose to stay and work at a small, unknown local research institute instead. My sacrifices hadn’t earned me mutual respect. They had earned me this humiliating, unbearable reality. I wasn’t without pain, or regret. But after the pain and regret, I had to think about the future. I sniffled, my nose stinging slightly. I transferred the full $200,000 into my personal savings account. Then I did two things. First, I contacted an agent to find me a suitable rental in the UK. Second, I scheduled an abortion for the next day. Marcus always believed the fertility problems were my fault. He thought I couldn’t live without him, and that I would never give up the baby in my belly. That’s why he felt so brazenly confident telling me about him and Melissa. But the truth was, he was the one with the low sperm count. There was nothing wrong with me. I could have more children in the future. They just wouldn’t be his. 3 The procedure wasn’t long. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, the little life inside me was gone. Staring at the medical report, I couldn’t stop my eyes from turning red. I forced myself to pull it together and spent two days recovering in the hospital. The day I was discharged, I received an official job offer from a prestigious research center in the UK. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed straight to my old institute to pack up my things. Before I even opened the door, I heard peals of laughter from inside. “Liam is so brilliant! He’s doing advanced math problems already! A true son of Mr. Blackwell and Director Melissa.” “And Toby is a little genius too! Look how fast he builds with those Legos!” “I know, right? And they can already identify different chemical compounds and do experiments!” “It’s what happens when you combine superior genes. Not like Anya. She can’t even get pregnant through IVF. You can just imagine how weak her genes are.” “Haha, it’s a good thing she’s barren. Can you imagine if she had an average kid? What a waste of Mr. Blackwell’s DNA.” I recognized the voices. One was my former assistant, the other a nepotism hire. Director Melissa? When did Melissa become a director? I pushed the door open. The chatter stopped instantly. The smile on Marcus’s face froze. Melissa looked at me timidly. “Professor… Anya, what are you doing here?” Marcus wrapped an arm around her shoulder, rubbing it gently in a silent show of support. Seeing this, the others’ expressions turned smug. “Anya, you were fired. Why are you even here?” one of them sneered. I paused. “Fired? When did that happen?” The nepotism hire laughed. “Stop playing dumb. The notice was posted in the company group chat. Didn’t you see it?” I hadn’t looked at the work chat at all while I was in the hospital. I opened it now and saw that on the very day I’d had the abortion, the institute had terminated my employment for “procedural violations” and promoted Melissa to my position as director. I laughed, a bitter, angry sound. “Procedural violations? Where’s your proof?” My former assistant lifted her chin. “I saw it with my own eyes. And there’s security footage.” I stared at her coldly. “I have the original, unedited surveillance footage of every single one of my experiments. If you think you can frame me with a doctored video, we can settle this in court.” They froze, clearly not expecting me to have a backup. Melissa shot a panicked look at Marcus. He patted her reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Go play with the boys for a bit.” After Melissa walked away, his gaze lingered on her and the twins for a long moment before he finally turned to me, his eyes dismissive. “Anya, the evidence doesn’t matter. What matters is the attitude of the investor. Me.” “A top-tier research conglomerate has taken an interest in one of our recent projects. They’ve sent an invitation to a major science forum. Melissa is young; she needs a stage like this.” I clenched my fists. “So, for her to have her moment in the spotlight, you’re just going to throw away all my years of hard work?” A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smirk. “It’s not fair to you, I admit. But it’s her dream to be up on that stage.” “To convince me to help her… that shy, timid girl… she put on cat ears and a tail for me. Her face was bright red, but she spent the whole night meowing like a little kitten. Tell me, how could I possibly say no?” For some reason, at his final question, all the rage inside me just… dissipated. I unclenched my fists, my voice calm. “In that case, a million dollars shouldn’t be too much to ask, right?” Marcus’s expression went blank for a second. After a few beats, he nodded. “Yes. You deserve it.” I held his gaze. “Transfer it now. And make sure the memo says ‘Voluntary Gift.’” Marcus frowned. “Anya, I thought you were the one who never cared about money.” I just smiled. Since I’d already decided to give up on the man, I might as well take as much of his money as I could. 4 I needed to get my personal belongings from my office. Melissa stood in the doorway, wringing the hem of her sleeve, her face a mask of pitiful distress. “Professor, the research results… they weren’t your work alone. I contributed too. If you take all the core data, what are we supposed to do?” I had to laugh. “What did you contribute? The time you mistook sodium nitrite for sugar in my coffee and sent me to the ICU? Or the time you brought flammable materials into my office and burned all my research notes to a crisp?” Melissa’s eyes darted around, her trembling lips betraying her guilt and anxiety. My face hardened. “Move.” She didn’t budge, tears already welling in her eyes. WHAM! A sharp blow struck my lower back. I staggered, pain radiating through me. Before I could recover, something hard slammed into my knee. The blunt force sent me crumpling to the floor. My forehead hit the sharp corner of the wall, and my vision went black for a second. Through a blurry haze, I saw Melissa’s two sons. One was holding a baseball bat, the other was still in a throwing motion. “You mean bitch! Don’t you bully our mommy!” “Mommy was right! You’re just a homewrecker trying to steal our daddy!” Marcus rushed over. His eyes lingered on me for only a second before he opened his arms and pulled the weeping Melissa into a comforting embrace. “It’s okay, baby, don’t cry. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.” Then he turned to me, his voice sharp with anger. “Anya, what are you trying to pull now?” I pushed myself off the floor and hit play on my phone’s voice recorder. “Listen for yourself.” Melissa’s sobs hitched. The two boys exchanged a guilty glance and lowered their heads. Marcus listened, his expression unchanging, until he strode over and stopped the recording. “Anya, they’re just kids. Don’t take it to heart.” He glanced at the blood trickling from my forehead, and his voice softened. “I’ll have my driver take you to the hospital.” Before I could respond, the nepotism hire piped up. “Give it a rest, Anya. Mr. Blackwell has already divorced you. It’s useless to keep clinging to him. You might as well take whatever medical money he’s offering before he gets completely sick of you.” A loud ringing filled my ears. “Divorced?” I looked at Marcus. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing, but his eyes held a clear warning. I lowered my gaze and smiled. “That’s right. He and I… we’re already divorced.” When I looked up again, my expression was ice. “In that case, Mr. Blackwell, how much do you intend to offer for my medical expenses?” Marcus was silent for a moment, then gave a lazy smile. “How much do you want?” I pointed to my still-bleeding forehead. “Five million dollars.” Melissa gasped. “That’s outrageous! It’s just a—” “Done.” Marcus cut her off and immediately initiated the bank transfer. “Anya, I’ll take you to the hospital.” I sneered. “Don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Blackwell. I can get there on my own.” “As for the transportation fee, let’s say… ten thousand.” Marcus paused, then furiously tapped ‘confirm’ on his phone, his tone clipped. “Whatever you want.”

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I was the pampered secret Norman Lancaster held in the palm of his hand. When his obsession with me was at its peak, even the most arrogant old-money socialites in Manhattan had to treat me with respect. That was until one day, at twenty-eight years old, I was personally decorating a private table at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Hudson River for our ninth anniversary. My phone buzzed with a text from him. “I am getting engaged today… I was worried you might find out and cause a scene.” “Be a good girl. I will come home later and explain.” The silver fork in my hand clattered against the plate. I froze, paralyzed. It felt like the floor had opened up, swallowing me into an endless abyss. Tears spilled over my lashes before I could even blink. “Then all these years… what was I to you?” I hit send. The chat screen remained dead, met with an agonizing, suffocating silence. 1 The dawn sky was a stifling, cinematic gray, making the faint flush of warmth in the bedroom feel even more intense. I had just rolled over. My gaze collided straight into the dark, bottomless eyes of the man beside me. They were heavy with sleep. He had just woken up. “You are up early,” I whispered. The arm wrapped around my waist suddenly tightened, locking me against his hard chest. “Dom, stop…” “Mhm.” He let out a low, gravelly hum that vibrated against my skin. His hands, however, did not stop. Warm fingers, heavy with familiar desire, smoothly slipped the strap of my silk nightgown down my shoulder, tracing lower. Before I could even push him away, his powerful, overwhelming body pressed over mine. … Two hours later. I dozed lightly against his chest until the bright morning sun pierced through the curtains, waking me up. His hands were still brazenly wandering over my curves. His voice was lazy, completely satisfied. “What is it? Cannot sleep?” I shifted my aching hips and playfully punched his shoulder. Pulling the heavy duvet over my flushed face, I mumbled my complaint. “It is all your fault…” He had been utterly insatiable last night, taking me again and again until I was entirely exhausted. And the second he opened his eyes this morning, he was all over me again. It always gave me this pathetic, delusional hope that he loved me down to the marrow of his bones. Because of that, the tiny, suppressed hope in my heart started sprouting like weeds after the rain. I just could not keep it buried. I crawled up, resting my chin on his chest. My index finger traced slow, teasing circles over his smooth skin, careful and deliberate. “Norman… do you know what day it is today?” The pale, elegant fingers holding his cigarette paused. It was as if he had hit an invisible wall. His hand froze in mid-air. His thin lips parted slightly. “No. Why? Is something going on?” Plumes of white smoke drifted upward in lonely, perfect rings. The haze blurred his sharp, devastatingly handsome features, but it could not hide the sudden, icy shift in his demeanor. I shivered, my heart dropping to my stomach. I understood instantly. He had forgotten what today was. Again. A heavy weight dragged my chest down. For the past nine years, today had been our anniversary. Yet, he never actively remembered it. It felt deliberate. Like he was erasing it on purpose. He would go all out for Valentine’s Day, Christmas, or my birthday, showering me in diamonds and attention. But never today. It made me feel so incredibly cherished, yet utterly worthless all at once. … The silence in the bedroom grew deafening. “Are you mad?” Seeing my silence, he leaned over and pinched my chin, tilting my face up. I snapped out of my daze. His expression had returned to normal. He stared down at me, letting out a low chuckle. “Let me guess what holiday you invented this time. A rose festival? A Cartier jewelry day?” That lethal, sexy mouth curved upward. “I will have Assistant Wyatt handle it for you.” “But,” he added, his tone dripping with lazy finality, “I really do have plans tonight.” He said it so casually, but there was an underlying, absolute authority in his voice that dared me to argue. A massive wave of grievance hit me. My eyes quickly filled with hot tears. If it were any other day, I would have swallowed my pride and compromised like a good girl. But not today. Today, I wanted to be selfish. I forced my voice to stay steady, completely ignoring his warning as I blurted out the truth. “What could possibly be so important that you cannot cancel it? I do not care. You have to have dinner with me tonight.” The relaxed lines between Norman’s brows snapped together. He eyed me, his aura turning freezing cold, but he maintained a sliver of patience. “I cannot cancel it.” My chest physically ached. I raised my voice, fueled by pure hurt. “Norman, are you doing this on purpose? I said, you are having dinner with me.” “…” When his sharp, perfectly sculpted brows furrowed deeply, a distinct look of offense crossed his face. Like a peasant had just insulted a king. It was a look I had never seen directed at me. His glacial eyes swept over me without an ounce of affection before looking away. He coldly put out his cigarette, stood up, and fastened his luxury watch around his wrist. “We will talk later.” He grabbed his crisp dress shirt and put it on. It was not until he was fully dressed and standing by the bedroom door that he finally looked back at me. His voice was laced with pure frost. “Madeline, you are crossing a line with this tantrum. It is not a good look on you.” Panic instantly seized my throat. I called out desperately, “Dom…” But the only answer I got was the sound of the heavy bedroom door slamming shut. The lock clicked, trapping my voice inside this massive, empty room. 2 Norman said this was not like me. But did he know that this was not like him either? When I first met him nine years ago, the image burned into my brain was of a man entirely composed, brutally disciplined, and untouchable. It seemed like nothing in the world could ever make him lose his temper. At least, that was how he had always been with me. I still remember our very first encounter. It was my college graduation. As the valedictorian, I was supposed to receive my diploma and an award from him, our university’s most prestigious billionaire donor. When our hands met, the hand offering me the certificate paused. His voice, crisp and cool like a rushing stream, echoed through the microphone. “Excellent work. What is your next goal?” In that exact moment, I looked up and got lost in his eyes. I completely froze. How could I even describe those eyes? They were obsidian, mysterious, like a massive black hole threatening to swallow me whole. I could hear my own heartbeat going absolutely chaotic in my ears. “I, I…” In my panic, my fingers crushed the edge of my graduation gown. The words tumbled out of my mouth. “I want to be yours…” “…” The entire auditorium went dead silent. A second later, a massive wave of laughter erupted from the crowd. I stood there, paralyzed, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. My face drained of all color. I waved my hands frantically, desperate to fix it. “No, no, no! I meant… I want to be someone like you…” Despite my absolute humiliation, the man standing before me remained perfectly composed. There was not a single ripple of shock in his eyes. Those dark, narrow eyes gleamed slightly under the stage lights. His thin lips curved into a smile gentler than a spring breeze. “A very creative opening statement. Miss Madeline truly earns her title as valedictorian. The rest of you should take notes.” He chuckled softly. “I will remember you.” “Keep up the good work,” he said smoothly. Norman did not get offended. Instead, in front of thousands of people, he handed me a graceful way out, rescuing my fragile, shattered pride. His grace left me absolutely deeply shaken. That day felt like I had been cleansed by a sudden, beautiful rainstorm. I also knew, deep down, that he was a shore I could never reach, no matter how hard I swam. After graduation, I found a decent corporate job in Boston. I mapped out a practical life, aiming for a modest, successful future that had absolutely nothing to do with him. But just as my life was getting on track, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cervical cancer. In just three months, we drained every single penny we owned, but we still could not save her. My father broke under the grief. He turned to alcohol, cigarettes, and eventually, underground gambling. He mortgaged our house and took out massive loans from loan sharks. He destroyed whatever was left of our family. The next time I saw Norman, I was taking a shot of cheap tequila for a girl named Penny. She was there to party. I was there as a bottle girl, desperate for cash. Inside a loud, chaotic VIP booth, a sweaty, drunk man was dragging her by the wrist, trying to force liquor down her throat. “I bought this, so you are going to drink it.” “I will not!” Penny thrashed wildly. “Let go of me! My uncle is Norman Lancaster! If you touch me, he will destroy you!” That specific name made my hand freeze over the ice bucket. The next second, right as the man was about to pour the liquor into her mouth, I reached out and snatched the glass. “I will take this drink for her.” The man looked up, annoyed. His gaze landed on my face, tracing my pale skin, my features, and my long legs in the uniform skirt. I knew exactly what my assets were. His eyes lit up with disgusting hunger. “Alright, sweetheart. You drink it. Drink this, spend the night with me, and I will let the little brat go.” … I lost count of how many glasses they shoved down my throat. Suddenly, a glass bottle shattered against the fat man’s head with a sickening crunch. When I forced my heavy eyelids open, the disgusting man was already cowering on the floor. Standing over him was a tall, imposing figure. Through my blurred, spinning vision, I only saw a man in a flawless tailored suit. His aura was entirely lethal yet aristocratic. His hand, adorned with a million-dollar watch, grasped my arm with strict professional boundaries, pulling me up. “Are you alright?” My tongue felt numb. “I… I…” I just gave up and shook my head. I was practically dragged out of the club. The wind outside was brutal. The cold air mixing with the alcohol made the world spin violently. I collapsed onto the soft mattress of a luxury hotel room without ever seeing the man’s face clearly. But my intuition screamed at me. I knew it was Norman Lancaster. When I woke up the next morning, the suite was empty. But on the nightstand, there was a crisp piece of hotel stationery. “I remember you. Thank you for what you did last night. Here is my personal number. Keep it just in case.” The elegant handwriting perfectly matched his breathtaking profile. His face instantly flashed in my mind. My heart hammered against my ribs like an earthquake. 3 After that night, I kept my job at the club, constantly scanning the crowds, hoping Norman would walk through the doors again. But my luck was terrible. I did not find the man I was waiting for. Instead, I ran straight into the drunk man from that night. I learned his name was Director Marcus. He was a sleazy film director who had a few hit movies years ago and now used his fading influence to exploit desperate young actresses. Penny, wanting to break into Hollywood without her family’s help, had been tricked into coming to his booth. I was holding a tray of drinks when I locked eyes with him. The stench of stale alcohol hit my nose immediately. “You.” He ground his teeth, his eyes turning vicious. “You actually have the nerve to show your face around me?” His sweaty, greasy hands shot out, wrapping around my throat like a vice. He leaned in, panting heavily. “I am going to end you tonight, you little bitch.” My face drained of blood. I thrashed wildly, trying to break free. The other men in the VIP room immediately understood the assignment. They stood up and walked out, clearing the room for him. I screamed for help. “No! Let me go!” But the heavy, soundproof door clicked shut right in front of my eyes. My heart plummeted into absolute darkness. He violently threw me onto the leather sofa. His hands ripped at my uniform shirt, tearing the fabric. My hands scrambled blindly across the table, praying to find a glass bottle or a corkscrew. Anything. Instead, my fingers brushed against the phone in my vest pocket. I pressed the emergency dial without looking. BANG. The heavy doors were kicked open. Norman’s massive frame stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway lights like a literal god. That was the third time we met. Right in the middle of my ruined, miserable life. I was exhausted, broken, and helpless. He was the light cutting through the fog. I found out later why my accidental emergency call got him there so fast. He was already in the club that night for a meeting. He had seen me when he walked in, but he had kept his distance. Because of my own calculated move to set his private number as my emergency contact, I had miraculously saved my own life. “Mr. Lancaster, thank you.” My throat was bruised. My voice came out cracked and hoarse. Norman’s eyes swept over my torn clothes. With perfect gentlemanly grace, he shrugged off his expensive suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. He smiled faintly, polite and distant. “Do not mention it, Miss Madeline. I owed you a favor anyway.” “Consider us even.” Just then, his assistant walked in, carrying a brand new dress. I took it gratefully and went to the bathroom to change. When I stepped back out, I had regained whatever little dignity I had left. “The dress is beautiful. It looks like I owe you a favor again, Mr. Lancaster.” “…” As a way to repay him, or rather, using my gratitude as an excuse to cling to him. For the next two weeks, I practically stalked him. I begged him to hire me as his personal secretary. First, I genuinely wanted to pay him back. Second, I had realized a brutal truth. In this world, the only way to survive and protect myself was to stand behind the most powerful man in the room. Initially, Norman refused. But by pure luck, his executive secretary of five years, Rachel, had to go on sudden maternity leave. Her absence threw his entire meticulous life into absolute chaos. It was 11:00 PM. The icy winter wind slashed against my face, chilling me to the bone. I stood right outside the glass doors of Lancaster Corp headquarters. I watched this pristine, flawless billionaire walk out of the lobby, heavily rubbing his temples in exhaustion. His jaw was clenched tight, his expression masking deep frustration. His right hand was pressed hard against his stomach, rubbing it as if he were in pain from skipping meals. As his long strides carried him past me, I took a deep breath. I told myself, This is it. It is time to let go. But to my absolute shock, those expensive leather shoes stopped, turned around, and walked right back into my line of sight. “It seems I really cannot function without a woman organizing my life.” The freezing wind messed up his perfectly styled hair. His voice sounded like it was echoing from a deep, lonely cavern. Cold, detached, but yielding. He said, “Want to give it a try?” “…” And just like that. Our fourth encounter stopped time itself. I never told him that night was my deadline. I had made a bet with myself. If he rejected me by midnight, I would disappear from his life forever. Thank God. I had taken ninety-nine steps toward him, and just as I was about to turn around, he took the final step toward me. 4 After becoming Norman’s secretary, I became the busiest woman in New York. I did not want him to think I was a burden, so I compressed months of training into weeks, learning every single detail of his personal and professional life. My analytical brain, the one that made me valedictorian, allowed me to adapt instantly and navigate the corporate warzone with ease. Norman was extremely satisfied with my performance. Though he never praised me with words. Instead, he doubled my base salary, gave me massive performance bonuses, and bought me a luxury condo in the center of Manhattan. It was a life I used to think was a fantasy. Then came that night. I was wearing a stunning, elegant off-the-shoulder gown, accompanying him to an exclusive high-society gala. The old wolves of Wall Street kept coming over to toast him. As his secretary, I flawlessly stepped in, blocking the liquor and downing glass after glass with polite, charming smiles. I drank too much, too fast. My head was spinning. I excused myself and stepped out onto the terrace to get some fresh air. Suddenly, a warm, high-quality suit jacket was draped over my bare shoulders. My heart fluttered. Thinking it was Norman, I turned around eagerly. But the man standing there had a face I had never seen before. He had striking features and radiated an easy, arrogant wealth. I frowned immediately. “And you are?”

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I was eight months pregnant when my husband, Beta Ethan, finally made time to accompany me to the hospital for a prenatal checkup for the first time. But the moment we stepped into the hospital, his phone started vibrating urgently. The caller’s name flashed by for just an instant, but Ethan, who was usually so calm and composed, panicked immediately. “Honey, emergency alert—Rogues have invaded the pack again. I need to handle it… I’m sorry…” He was extremely anxious, his tone carrying the commanding force of someone in authority who wouldn’t take no for an answer. After a hasty apology, he left. As I stared at the back of his SUV speeding away, my nails had already crumpled the prenatal examination form in my hand. I hailed a cab with my swollen belly and quickly said: “Driver, follow that car.” Ha, Rogues invading the pack? What a ridiculous lie. My father was the Alpha and hadn’t received any notification. What urgent matter could a Beta like him possibly need to handle? I was going to see for myself which “superior” was so eager to “give him orders.”

The moment I said the word “affair,” the driver hit the gas and caught up with Ethan. I didn’t know who Ethan was going to meet, but my gut instinct made me uneasy. What I didn’t expect was that after turning corner after corner, the car finally stopped at the entrance to the pack’s newly developed villa district. I let out a long sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t some hotel. This place was a residential area the pack had allocated to high-ranking officials. Ethan had been assigned a villa here too. Before my first pregnancy, I’d lived here briefly for a few months. The neighbors were all very kind. But now, seeing luxury cars gathered at our doorway from a distance, with decorations and lights everywhere, I was puzzled. Was today some important occasion? Just as I was about to go in and see, I was stopped by the guard: “Pack high-level residential area. No entry without an invitation.” I was stunned, then smiled and explained, “I’m the wife of Beta Ethan, who just went in.” To my surprise, the guard looked at me with utter contempt. “Beta Ethan’s wife is Ms. Vivian. Who are you? You should at least do your research before impersonating someone.” In that instant, my entire body went rigid and I froze in place. Vivian—that nanny Ethan had hired for me… Coming back to my senses and ignoring the guard’s attempts to stop me, I rushed to the villa entrance with my swollen belly. I saw the hall filled with well-dressed elites and dignitaries, their laughter filling the air. Ethan’s mother Layla, who usually kept to herself and avoided social gatherings, was now unusually mingling and networking. And my husband Ethan was holding a child and bottle-feeding him for the first time ever, smiling happily at the petite woman beside him. That woman was Vivian… In an instant, it felt like a large hand was squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe. Tears fell uncontrollably. When I was pregnant with my first child, Ethan had arranged a nanny for me. That was Vivian, who was still an Omega at the time. Later, after I gave birth, Ethan used his authority to change Vivian from an Omega into a regular wolf, saying it was to thank her for her service. After that, Vivian didn’t want to be a nanny anymore, so I found her many good job opportunities and even frequently had Ethan bring her supplements. But I never imagined that Ethan would have an affair with her and set her up in this house. This villa was the marital home he had carefully prepared for me after he was promoted to Beta. It was just far from the hospital, so when I got pregnant, Ethan was so worried about me that he bought a new house near the central hospital and we moved out. Who would have thought it would become their “proper” marital home? And they even had a child… When Ethan moved another woman and child into this villa, did he even remember that he became Beta entirely thanks to my father’s support? Ethan and I were fated mates. We got married not long after we started dating. He was just a regular wolf back then. It was I who begged my father, Alpha James, to help him rise step by step to become the Beta of Riverbend Pack. At the party, people were already flattering Ethan. “Congratulations, Beta Ethan! You have such a virtuous wife, and now your son is one year old. Your life is truly perfect!” “Oh my, Vivian is so lucky to have found someone like Ethan who dotes on his wife so much. I’m so jealous!” Someone nearby patted Layla’s hand and said. Layla’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she looked at Vivian, boasting: “It’s my Ethan who’s lucky to have married such a wonderful wife like Vivian.” After she finished speaking, Ethan didn’t avoid the crowd as he leaned in intimately to whisper something in Vivian’s ear. Vivian smiled shyly, then raised her glass to everyone: “I was afraid of affecting Ethan’s reputation in the pack, so I didn’t publicly announce our marriage. Please don’t hold it against us.” “Today is our child’s first birthday party. Thank you all for coming.” Seeing that Vivian had saved face for everyone, people smiled and complimented her. “How could we hold it against you? We still owe you a ‘congratulations on your wedding.’” “I say, since it’s such a special day, why don’t you two be bride and groom again and share a kiss!” Ethan’s subordinates joined in the cheering, and the atmosphere of the banquet reached a climax. Vivian immediately retreated shyly, but Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist. Just as he was about to kiss her, his gaze suddenly met mine at the doorway. The man abruptly pushed away the woman in his arms, startling Vivian so much that she crashed into a nearby table. “Amelia…” Wiping away the tears from my eyes with one hand, I stepped forward quickly with my swollen belly and raised my hand to deliver a slap. “Smack!” The crisp sound of the slap rang through the air, shocking the entire hall into dead silence. “Ethan!” Vivian’s eyes rolled back as she lunged at Ethan, hysterically berating me: “Amelia! How dare you—!” “Smack—!” Another slap. Half of Vivian’s face instantly swelled up red as she staggered back into Ethan’s arms, sobbing pitifully. I shook my numb palm. “Ame…” Ethan immediately reacted and shouted at me. “Ethan—!” But my voice was even louder. I turned my head and stared at him with cold eyes. “This is the ’emergency Rogue invasion’ you needed to handle?!”

Ethan was instantly speechless. He opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything. Many of Ethan’s subordinates and their families in the room were completely stunned and confused. As the atmosphere froze, a baby’s cry suddenly startled everyone back to their senses. Layla hurriedly took the child to soothe him, then immediately turned and cursed at me: “Amelia! You crazy woman, you’re divorced already—how dare you still come here and pester my son! Have some shame and get out, or when you offend some important person, you’ll regret it!” One of Ethan’s subordinate’s wives also immediately shouted: “I mean, even if you’re Beta Ethan’s ex-wife, you can’t just assault people. Seriously, this is an attack on a Beta!” Learning my identity, the hall exploded into chaos. People clamored about locking me up and teaching me a lesson. I frowned and grabbed Ethan’s collar, about to ask how I, his perfectly legal wife, had suddenly become his ex-wife. But Vivian shrank into Ethan’s arms first, looking at me with tears in her eyes: “Amelia… Ethan has already broken the mate bond with you. Why are you still clinging to us…” Tears streamed down her face: “It’s all my fault. I’ll give Ethan back to you, okay…” After she finished speaking, Ethan’s expression changed drastically. He suppressed his anger and scolded me: “Amelia! I’ve told you I won’t get back together with you! Stop harassing us!” “Get out before I lose my patience! I don’t have time to deal with you!” As he spoke, Ethan waved his hand, and several guards rushed over to forcibly remove me. As I struggled, I stumbled and bumped into Layla. But the moment I caught a clear glimpse of the baby’s face in her arms, my entire body was struck as if by lightning! Because the baby Layla was holding, supposedly Vivian’s child, was actually Joe—the child I had labored for seven hours to bring into this world during my first pregnancy! But my child had supposedly died three months ago, and Ethan had personally cremated him— Ethan… My breathing caught, and intense pain surged in my eyes. That bastard Ethan! He had actually faked our child’s death to deceive me, just so he could give the baby to Vivian to raise! “Give me my child back! He’s my Joe!” My teeth ground together audibly. I snatched the baby from the blanket, pushed Layla aside, and gently soothed the crying infant, tears streaming down my face in heartbreak. But Vivian suddenly panicked. She rushed over crying, trying to snatch the child away. Her voice choked and trembling: “Amelia, he’s not your child!” “I know Joe died and you were traumatized and went crazy. Even after the divorce, you insisted on clinging to Ethan to have another baby…” “I pitied you for losing your child and gave in to you everywhere, but you can’t steal my child!” “Please, I’m begging you, leave our family alone… I can reject Ethan, just please give me back my child!” Hearing this, Ethan’s expression contorted in pain. He gripped Vivian’s shoulders tightly and said firmly: “Vivian, I won’t allow it!” “Don’t even think about rejecting me. No one can tear our family of three apart.” “And what about me?!” I roared, interrupting them. Watching the two of them reluctantly expressing their devotion to each other, if I weren’t the one with the mate bond to Ethan, I would’ve thought they were the married couple who had established a mate bond. I pointed at my heavy pregnant belly and said to him word by word: “Ethan, I’m still carrying your child. You’re having an affair right in front of me and making me out to be your ex-wife. Aren’t you disgusting?!” His Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes avoided mine. But Vivian’s tears suddenly fell even harder, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. She turned to the guests and sobbed: “I’m sorry, everyone. Amelia is Ethan’s ex-wife. She went crazy after losing her child during a difficult delivery.” “Later she kept pestering Ethan to have a child with her. When he refused, she found many homeless men and thugs… to get pregnant…” “Ethan took care of her out of consideration for their past, but she’s trying to force Ethan to acknowledge this bastard child and… and threatening us to divorce…” These words instantly ignited the fury of everyone present. The wealthy ladies immediately shouted with contempt: “That crazy bitch has it all! Someone! Get this shrew out of here now!” Gently soothing the child in my arms, I snorted coldly and suddenly laughed in anger. I grew up abroad and was only brought back to the pack by my father when I was older, so very few people in the pack knew or recognized me. Very few knew that Alpha James even had a daughter. When Ethan and I got married, he didn’t want to make a big deal of it, afraid people would say he only got promoted because of my father, so we chose to keep the marriage secret. But I never expected that all of this would result in me, the Alpha’s daughter and the Beta’s wife, being called a crazy woman and a whore. Looking at Vivian, my eyes turned cold as ice: “Who’s the whore pretending to be pure? Vivian, don’t you know? Need me to remind you how much I paid you per month when you were a nanny?” “Who took my thirty million and knelt in front of me begging for a good job? Wasn’t that you?” “What, does Ethan not pay you enough as his mistress? So now you’re trying to take my place directly?” “You’re a mistress who insists on playing the wife—doesn’t your face hurt?” Before I could finish, despite my pregnant belly, I was suddenly shoved and stumbled.

“You’re the homewrecker destroying my son’s family!” Layla’s shrill curse came through. My back slammed hard against the wall, and my entire abdomen suddenly cramped with pain. The child in my arms was also snatched away and handed to Vivian. Immediately after, Ethan’s subordinates also expressed righteous indignation: “That’s right! Everyone here knows Beta Ethan and Vivian are a couple!” “Vivian has been living here for a long time, we all know her! She’s always been a homemaker taking care of Ethan’s daily life, and she bore him a child!” “And you, a useless ex-wife, only know how to drag Beta Ethan down. You should be the one who’s ashamed!” This was clearly the villa my father had assigned to Ethan, yet he let Vivian, a mistress, move in! From what they were saying, shortly after I moved out, Vivian moved in. Ethan was truly shameless! Ethan’s subordinates continued talking. “Exactly! Even if you’re mentally ill, disturbing the pack’s order is still illegal!” “A slut like you, stop pretending to be Beta Ethan’s wife and dirtying our eyes. Beta Ethan is too kind-hearted. If it were me, I would have…” Vicious insults echoed around me. And in the midst of this nightmare, I looked pale at the man standing aside, keeping himself completely detached. “Ethan.” My voice was weak. “You tell them… how exactly did you get your position as Beta?” Ethan’s fingers suddenly clenched. He turned his head and looked at me coldly, a rare trace of hatred appearing in his usually indifferent eyes. I smiled. “You said you didn’t want to be just a wolf warrior for the rest of your life. I agreed and begged my father to arrange a higher position for you in the pack.” “After we got married, you said your rank was too low and you weren’t worthy of me, so I begged my father again.” “I begged my father step by step to promote you to the position of Beta, making you the youngest Beta in Riverbend Pack’s history. And now this is how you—” “Enough!” Ethan suddenly roared. He strode forward and grabbed my throat, his eyes savage and bloodshot as he shouted at me: “You’re lying! Everything I have today, I fought for myself! What does it have to do with a useless person like you?!” My neck hurt terribly. The intense suffocation made my vision go black instantly, and my entire face turned purple from the congested blood. But seeing my conviction, Ethan was suddenly provoked to fury. The subordinates and wealthy ladies seemed to sense something and began whispering among themselves. Seeing this, a dark gleam flashed in Vivian’s eyes. Holding the child, she suddenly dropped to her knees before me, crying mournfully: “Amelia, I’ve tolerated your crazy ramblings on ordinary days.” “But on an occasion like today, if you talk nonsense, you’ll really ruin Ethan’s future!” “I’m begging you, Amelia. I’m kneeling to you. Please stop being crazy! Okay…” She crawled forward a few steps on her knees and grabbed my pant leg. Ethan was shocked. The hand gripping my throat suddenly released, and he crouched down to help her up. But in the next second, Vivian grabbed my leg and threw herself backward. At the same time, she screamed: “Ah—! Amelia, just kick me to death!” Before I could react, in the next instant, Ethan’s hysterical slap had already landed hard: “Amelia! You don’t know when to stop!” A dull pain shot through my right cheek. I raised my hand to strike back, but Layla suddenly kicked me hard in the lower back. Caught off guard, I was sent flying into a curio cabinet. The moment I staggered and fell, my stomach cramped with bone-piercing pain, and bright red blood flowed from between my legs. In an instant, there was a pool of red beneath me. I sat paralyzed in the pool of blood, my entire body in excruciating pain as if it were falling apart. “My stomach… Ethan… my stomach hurts…” Blood tears flowed from my eyes as I reached out to Ethan for help. But Layla stomped hard on my hand, the pain making it feel like my bones were about to shatter: “Bitch! Stop faking it! My son won’t be threatened by you!” Tears blurred my vision. My lips trembled: “Ethan… I’m not faking… hurry… take me to the hospital…” But Ethan didn’t even turn back to look at me. He only carefully protected Vivian, his voice cold and heartless: “Enough! Amelia, stop pretending and apologize to Vivian!” “Always using the child as an excuse—do you think I’ll believe you?!” As he spoke, Ethan turned back angrily, but when he suddenly caught sight of the blood beneath me, the disgust on his face instantly crumbled, revealing a hint of fear. Ethan knew my identity. He absolutely couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Staring hard at Ethan’s panicked eyes, I endured the pain that felt like my intestines were being twisted and said through clenched teeth: “Ethan! If anything happens to the child in my belly! You! The biological father!” “Will be the murderer who killed him!” “My father and brother will make you pay with your life! Hurry! Take me to the hospital!”

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