My uncle had no children and had long since made a will leaving me his massive fortune. But after his funeral, when I returned to his mansion, a strange man burst in, claiming to be my uncle’s legal heir and demanding I leave. “All of Benjamin Clark’s assets are to be inherited by me. Leave immediately!” I didn’t believe him at all and dismissed him as a lunatic, but then he produced a will. Looking at two identical wills, I immediately called the lawyer. After carefully comparing them, the lawyer looked at me and shook his head regretfully. “Mr. Turner, your will has been invalidated.” My head exploded. Before I could react, Logan Hayes had already sat down on the sofa and found the cigars my uncle had hidden underneath—cigars only he and I knew about. He lit one with practiced ease. I stared intently at the familiar yet strange outline behind the swirling smoke and asked in disbelief: “Who the hell are you?” Ever since my uncle was diagnosed with lung cancer, his doctor strictly forbade him from smoking. All the cigarettes in the house had been confiscated. Only my uncle and I knew about this hiding spot. So how did this guy know? The man across from me showed no expression and pointed at the name on the will. “Can’t you read? My name is Logan Hayes. I’m the legal heir to Mr. Benjamin Clark’s estate. Now, can you please leave?” “Impossible!” My voice nearly cracked with strain: “Your will must be forged! I demand the lawyer verify its authenticity!” Attorney Morrison examined it carefully once more and nodded solemnly. “This will is genuine and valid. Mr. Hayes is indeed the legal heir.” My expression froze instantly. I shook my head in disbelief. “How can this be real? I’m Uncle Benjamin’s closest family. How could he possibly leave his fortune to you, a complete stranger?” Logan looked at me with a slight smile. “You’ll have to ask your uncle about that—why he left his massive fortune to me, a stranger, instead of to you, his nephew who was like a son to him.” I stiffened, clutching the will tightly. My uncle never married and treated me like his own child. I grew up by his side. He sent me to the most expensive private schools and provided me with the best living conditions. Before I even graduated college, he brought me into the company to learn the business and taught me how to manage it. Despite strong opposition from others, he left everything to me and nothing to his other relatives. This caused him to become estranged from his family. My uncle loved me so much—there was no way he would leave his inheritance to someone I’d never even met. Something was definitely wrong here. I gradually calmed down and looked at the lawyer. “I want to see the video of the will signing.” For will notarization, at least two notaries, lawyers, financial officers, and doctors must be present. This ensures the testator is mentally sound, acting voluntarily, and that the will truly reflects their wishes. My uncle must have been coerced. I stared at Logan, trying to find even a trace of panic on his face. But he remained calm and pulled up the video of the will signing. I watched the entire video without blinking once. My uncle was clearly lucid throughout. He even pressed so hard when signing his name at the end that he tore through the paper. My head was buzzing. How could this be? I grabbed Attorney Morrison by the collar and glared at him. “You tampered with the video, didn’t you? Your last name is Morrison, his is Hayes? Did you two conspire to steal my uncle’s inheritance?” Morrison’s expression changed, but he remained polite. “Mr. Turner, I understand how you feel, but this was Mr. Clark’s own decision. If you have doubts, I suggest you call the police or pursue legal action. Violence won’t solve anything.” I released him and immediately called the police. When the police arrived, they tested the video and confirmed it was original footage with no cuts or AI manipulation. They also investigated and found that Attorney Morrison and Logan Hayes had no family relationship whatsoever. The two had never even been in contact before—today was their first meeting. I was completely stunned. What had gone wrong? My uncle had made a will in my favor just a month before his death. Why would he suddenly change his mind? The police officer looked at my unwilling face and spoke in a tone half-educational, half-mocking: “Young man, look for the reason within yourself. You must have been ungrateful. Never mind your uncle—even if it were your own father, if he’s dissatisfied with you, it’s his right to leave his assets to whomever he wants.” A crack suddenly exploded in my mind. Father? I suddenly looked at Logan. A terrifying thought began growing wildly in my head.

I was forcibly evicted from the mansion I’d lived in for over twenty years. As I left, when no one was looking, I took the remainder of the cigar Logan had been smoking. Once outside, I rushed to the hospital and took my uncle’s stored blood sample to a DNA testing center. The wait for results was agonizing. My uncle had lived a clean life. Despite his vast wealth, he never indulged in excess. Apart from necessary social obligations, he lived more ascetically than a monk. I racked my brain but couldn’t imagine him having an illegitimate son. But if not, how else could I explain why he changed his will to favor Logan? After an excruciating wait, the results finally arrived. The moment I saw them, I froze completely. The words “Biological paternity excluded” were like sharp daggers piercing straight through my heart. My uncle had actually left the massive fortune he’d worked his entire life to build to a complete stranger with no blood relation? I couldn’t understand it. I really couldn’t. Did my uncle have some weakness Logan was exploiting? But the police investigation had shown Logan was just an ordinary employee. What leverage could my uncle possibly have that Logan could exploit? Unless… they had that kind of relationship? Combined with my uncle’s aversion to women, it didn’t seem entirely impossible. I was nearly stunned by this thought. My mind was in chaos. Should I just watch the fortune that was within my grasp slip into someone else’s hands? Let my uncle’s life’s work be inexplicably stolen? After sitting dazed for a long while, I picked up my phone and called a private investigator I knew. “I need you to investigate someone named Logan Hayes. Everything from birth until now—everyone he’s met, bank transactions, every detail. The more thorough, the better. And fast.” After hanging up, I found a five-star hotel to check into. When I tried to pay, the “card frozen” notification echoed particularly harsh in the empty lobby. I’d forgotten that my cards were all secondary cards linked to my uncle’s account. Now that the assets had gone to Logan, he would have frozen my cards immediately.

I had no choice but to return to the old house my grandmother had left to my mother. I only had a few dollars left in my wallet—not enough to cover next semester’s tuition, let alone basic necessities. I sat in the spotlessly clean house, feeling a pang of sadness. My uncle and my mother were twins. When I was two years old, a car accident took both my parents’ lives. The siblings had been very close. My uncle never had the heart to sell this house and often came to clean it himself. He said this place held my mother’s presence. My uncle never married so he could care for me, raising me like both a father and mother. He treated me so well—why would he leave his inheritance to someone else? I refused to accept it and watched the will-signing video over and over, feeling like something was missing. My hand paused. My pupils suddenly contracted. I knew what it was—my great-uncle Marcus was missing from the video as a witness. Marcus was the most respected elder in my maternal family. At the time, my uncle had explicitly stated that the will would only be valid if Marcus witnessed it. I quickly found the video of when my uncle first made his will in my favor—Marcus was clearly present in that one. I jumped up excitedly, eager to expose Logan’s true face. I soon returned to the mansion. After breaking through the door and trying to rush inside, I was stopped by the butler. “Young master, this is no longer your home. If you cause trouble again, I’ll call the police.” Seeing the butler, who used to care for me warmly, now so cold, my heart ached. I explained: “I’m here to see Logan about something. Let me in.” “Our master has already retired for the evening. If you have business, come back tomorrow.” I checked the time—it was only a little past 8 PM. Young people’s nightlife hadn’t even started, and he was already asleep? Just like my uncle’s elderly person’s schedule. I waited at the door all night. The next morning around 7 AM, Logan came out of the mansion in my uncle’s Maybach. I stopped him. “Logan, I can prove you’re not the legal heir. Come with me right now to see Marcus!” Logan looked at me with a half-smile and readily agreed. “Fine. I’d also like to see what proof you have that I’m not legitimate.”

When we arrived at Marcus’s house, I asked urgently: “Marcus, did you know my uncle left his inheritance to this man? You’re not in the video of his will signing. Tell me—it’s fake, right? He forced my uncle to do this, didn’t he?” Marcus looked at me with surprise. “Of course I knew. Your uncle told me. I was supposed to be there as a witness, but I had a car accident on the way. I broke this leg. But before my surgery, I recorded a video testimony. Didn’t they show it to you?” Only then did I notice Marcus’s leg was wrapped in bandages. Marcus found the video and showed it to me. It was brief but clearly stated the authenticity of the revised will. I was completely dumbfounded. My eyes darted back and forth between Marcus and Logan. Had Marcus been bribed by Logan? I asked almost without thinking: “Marcus, did he bribe you? How much did he give you? How can you do this to my uncle? How can you face my deceased parents?” Marcus’s expression darkened, his tone no longer kind. “Xavier, what are you talking about? This is my first time meeting Logan! At my age, what would I need that much money for? This was all your uncle’s own decision!” “No! My uncle wouldn’t abandon me!” I spun around and grabbed Logan by the collar, glaring at him. “Who are you really? Why did you make my uncle willingly leave his inheritance to you? Tell me—what did you use to threaten a dying man into giving you his estate?” A crack finally appeared in Logan’s consistently calm expression. “Enough!” He forcefully pried my hands away. “If not for the fact that you’re Benjamin’s family, I would have called the police on you long ago for this harassment. Keep pushing, and I won’t be polite anymore!” Marcus also tried to persuade me: “Xavier, I know this is hard to accept. Your uncle must have had his reasons. You’re still young—your future achievements may not be any less than your uncle’s. Why do this?” “Why do this?” I looked at him incredulously. “This isn’t ten thousand or a hundred thousand—it’s a massive fortune, my uncle’s life’s work. Haven’t you ever wondered why he suddenly changed his mind right before dying? What leverage does he have over you both?” Marcus’s face completely darkened. “Wonder what? Xavier, your uncle has passed away. I hope you’ll respect the deceased’s wishes!” Logan let out a cold laugh. “All this is just to say your uncle and I had some kind of illicit relationship, isn’t it? Xavier Turner, he was your own uncle. How can you slander him like this?” My face flushed red with the embarrassment of being exposed. The servants and family doctor nearby looked at me with contempt. “Says all these nice things, but he’s just bitter about being cut out. For money, he’ll even call his own uncle a pervert. Shameless!” “If you ask me, his uncle must have seen long ago that he’s an ungrateful wretch. That’s why he didn’t leave him the assets. Doesn’t he have any self-awareness?” “Mr. Clark raised him for twenty years, like his own father, and now he’s being slandered even in death. What a waste.” “Bah! Money-grubbing, ungrateful scum. Get lost—don’t dirty our floor!” A servant with a broom swept frantically at my feet, driving me toward the door. Endless humiliation and grievance surged up. My eyes reddened as I looked around and spoke with a choked voice. “I’m not doing this for the inheritance! I just want to understand why my uncle did this. Was he in some kind of trouble? Was I not good enough? Were these twenty-some years of father-son love all fake?” “Even if the truth is that it was my uncle’s own decision, I’ll accept it willingly. I just don’t want to live in such confusion and helplessness!” Tears fell despite my efforts to hold them back. Marcus limped over to me and looked at me with a helpless sigh. “Xavier, don’t overthink it. If your uncle didn’t love you, why would he have set aside a large trust fund for you?”

I froze suddenly, remembering what my uncle said to me on his deathbed. “Xavier, I’ve bought you a large trust fund. Don’t touch it unless absolutely necessary. The password… only the heir knows…” I was too grief-stricken at the time to pay attention to what he meant. I thought my uncle was worried I might mismanage the company and was leaving me a safety net. Thinking about it now, my uncle had been prepared all along. I shot a piercing look at Logan, my tone carrying desperate determination. “Logan, one last time. Come with me to the bank and prove to me whether you’re really the heir or not!” He gazed at me for a long time with complex emotions, then snorted softly. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But if it’s proven that I am the legal heir, you, Xavier Turner, from now on, are never to appear before me again!” I nodded without hesitation. “Deal!” We arrived at the bank and found the trust department manager. The manager carefully brought out a safe deposit box and explained: “This box contains the trust fund documents that Mr. Benjamin Clark purchased for Mr. Xavier Turner during his lifetime, along with a trust fund card. Only the heir knows the withdrawal password and the box password.” He politely gestured to Logan. “Please, Mr. Hayes.” Logan walked to the safe. He turned his head left to look, then tilted it right, making sure no one was behind him. He extended his left hand, raised his pinky finger, and pressed his index finger on the keypad. The password lock emitted beeping sounds. Everyone’s hearts tightened with each increasingly rapid beep. My palms were drenched in sweat. My heart felt like it would leap from my chest. I kept silently repeating the words “incorrect password” in my mind. I couldn’t be wrong. My uncle must have had unspeakable difficulties. This Logan Hayes must be a fake heir. My uncle loved me. Soon. The truth would be revealed soon. The fraud would be exposed. Uncle, I can protect your life’s work for you… As the last digit was entered, the air seemed to freeze completely. Everyone held their breath, afraid of missing the most exciting part. With a final beep. The safe door clicked open. My blood instantly froze. My ears rang with buzzing. Around me, flattering words about how Mr. Hayes was indeed the heir, please take care of us Mr. Hayes, reached my ears in fragments. And I stood there like a joke, being pointed at and gossiped about. “Crazy for money. Even after the law certified Mr. Hayes as the legal heir, he refused to believe it. Now he’s completely humiliated, isn’t he?” “Must have done something terrible—killed his parents, and now even his own uncle doesn’t want him. Karma!” “Just doesn’t have that destiny. Why fight it? Accept your fate!” I stood there petrified, trembling all over. Why was this happening? How could this be? Marcus testifying for someone he’d never met, my uncle’s desperate determination when signing, giving him the most secret password. All the evidence proved Logan Hayes was the legal heir. Who exactly was Logan Hayes? No! I must have missed something. My mind was a complete mess. Just then, the private investigator sent over Logan’s background report. I opened it and looked up sharply, staring intently at Logan. “Logan Hayes, I know who you are now!”

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My estranged billionaire parents finally came to pick me up. I was on a live stream, dancing, my hair a riot of colors, clad in micro-shorts and fishnets. Just as a viewer was about to send a donation, Tiffany yanked the internet cable. “Have you been whoring yourself out for cash all these years?” she sneered. My parents, hearing this, looked at me with open disdain. My idiot brother, Chad, then lunged, grabbing at my fishnets. “You’re absolutely sickening! How could I possibly have a sister like you? You’re a disgrace!” Not a single cent earned, I was seething. My hand flew up, delivering a stinging slap to each of their faces. “Seriously?! How else do you expect me to pay for Ivy League tuition? Do you have any idea how hard I fought to get into that school?!” A beat of stunned silence hung in the air before Tiffany and Chad burst into sharp, mocking laughter. “You? Ivy League?” “Hahahahahahahahahahaha!” Tiffany’s face was practically splitting from laughter. She clung to Eleanor, my mother, her nose in the air. “Do you actually think Ivy League is like a convenience store, you can just waltz in whenever you feel like it? Chad even had to donate a million dollars to the school just to get in.” “And you?” Tiffany scrutinized me from head to toe, her eyebrows scrunching in contempt. “Someone like you… you’d probably struggle just to get into a community college.” I’m naturally hot-headed; I can’t stand being insulted. I started to roll up my sleeves, ready to slap her again. But a strong hand from behind me yanked me back. “Enough!” A deep, commanding voice boomed, silencing everyone present. It was Mr. Sterling, the renowned billionaire. I’d only ever seen him on the news, never imagining he could be my biological father. His face was grim, his icy gaze fixed on me. His tone was thick with undeniable distaste and aversion. “Delusions need to have their limits. What Ivy League student looks like you?” Just two sentences extinguished the spark of familial warmth that had just begun to flicker within me. A gentle voice spoke next, my mother, Eleanor. “We know you’ve suffered, but one must not lie.” She gave me a quick once-over, then gingerly handed me a credit card. “Use this money to buy yourself some presentable clothes first.” She paused, then added, “Nothing too revealing, you need to be modest. And dye your hair back to its original color, then find a place to shower. After that… after that, you can call me. We’ll leave it at that for today, we’re heading back now.” With that, she handed me a business card and, without a backward glance, looped her arm through Tiffany’s and walked away. The early autumn wind was sharp, cutting across my face like a slap. I’d fantasized countless times about reuniting with my family. But I never imagined that I, a self-reliant, academically excellent, well-rounded student, would be met with such contempt from my own parents. They didn’t even believe I’d gotten into an Ivy League university. Not a single word of welcome, no desire to let me into their home. Tears traced paths down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away, taking a deep breath. It’s fine. Recognize me or not, I’ve raised myself well enough. I can walk my own path from now on. I crumpled the card she’d given me into a ball and tossed it aside. Then, I found an ATM and drained the entire hundred thousand dollars from the card. I found a place to settle down and immediately started looking for a proper part-time job. A hundred thousand dollars wasn’t a huge sum, nor was it negligible, but I still needed to save more. I hustled through the streets, but by evening, I hadn’t found a suitable job. As I sat on the curb, feeling defeated, that extended limousine silently glided up beside me again. My idiot brother, Chad, poked his head out. “Picking up clients on the street, are we? Be careful, the cops might catch you. If they do, the Sterlings won’t be bailing you out.” I instantly exploded. I grabbed a water bottle from the roadside and hurled it at his face. “What about you?! Are you out looking for prostitutes? You sound so familiar with it, you must do this a lot!” Before I could finish, two burly men suddenly appeared behind me, lifted me, and shoved me into the car. Inside, my father, Mr. Sterling, looked at me with a cold face. “I never imagined you’d stoop to such depravity. Now, I’m taking you to a hospital to see if you’re still a decent girl!”

I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined that the “hospital” he spoke of would be the basement of the Sterling family mansion. Mr. Sterling, without a word, had his men strip me completely naked, hang me from the rafters, and spray me with a high-pressure hose for an entire hour. Before I could even catch my breath, I saw people bringing in an operating table, and the gleaming leg spreaders made my alarm bells ring wildly. The burly men, without a word, pressed me onto the operating table, my legs firmly secured in the spreaders. A sharp-eyed female doctor, Dr. Holloway, emerged from the shadows. She looked at me with disdain. “The real heiress, getting a body-check on her first day home.” “Tch, if you ask me, you’re just not as good as Miss Tiffany, who was raised in the Sterling family since childhood.” They completely ignored my struggles and curses, shoving the cold, hard instrument inside me. I gasped, sucking in a sharp breath of pain. The doctor, however, gave me a contemptuous look, raising an eyebrow in mockery. “What are you faking? You’re already suffering from cervical erosion, and you’re still trying to act innocent?” Tiffany, who had just stepped into the basement, let out an exaggerated shriek. “Mom! Did you hear that? Cervical erosion!” She tugged Eleanor and Mr. Sterling far away, pulling out a mask to cover her nose and mouth. “Dr. Holloway! You should be careful too! Be careful not to catch a dirty disease!” Dr. Holloway, hearing Tiffany’s voice, immediately put on a gentle, fawning smile. “Yes, yes, Miss. Thank you for your concern.” Then, completely disregarding my grimaces of pain, she roughly finished the examination, throwing a bath towel at me. “Done. Cover yourself. There’s no one here for you to seduce!” Cold, humiliation, and agony washed over me all at once. I shakily grabbed the flimsy towel, wrapped myself, and curled into a ball. I heard Mr. Sterling ask from a distance, “Dr. Holloway, how do we treat this condition?” I wanted to tell them that I’d merely gotten an inflammation from using cheap sanitary pads, and some anti-inflammatories would fix it. But my jaw was chattering so violently, I couldn’t form a single coherent word. “Ultimately, it’s just viruses and bacteria. If you don’t provide them nutrients, they naturally won’t have space to survive.” My heart sank. This doctor was a quack, plain and simple. Who didn’t know basic biology? I tried to stand up to expose her, but I was brutally restrained, dragged into a damp, dark storage room, and locked inside. I overheard their conversation outside. “No food, no water, but she must be disinfected three times a day.” My body violently flinched, remembering the icy, stiff feeling of being blasted by the high-pressure hose earlier. I forced myself up, banging on the door and screaming, but no one paid any attention. They all seemed eager to leave the place, as if I truly carried some infectious virus. For the next three days, they really believed the fake doctor, denying me food and water, only subjecting me to repeated hosing and disinfection. Soon, I was lying in the storage room like a dying dog, barely clinging to life. Tiffany stood before me, arms crossed, a smug smile on her face, enjoying my pathetic state. “Tch, I thought you were so tough. Dared to slap me the first time we met? Now aren’t you perfectly subdued by me?” Suddenly, the scent of food wafted into my nostrils. I laboriously lifted my head, seeing Tiffany holding a tray. “Hahahaha, you really look like a stray dog on the street!” “Want some?” She walked up to me, looking down her nose. “Kowtow to me three times, and I’ll give it to you.” I was sprawled on the ground, too weak to lift my head. Before me were Tiffany’s pale ankles. So I struggled, pushing myself forward, And in Tiffany’s expectant gaze, I opened my mouth and bit down hard on her ankle. A sharp scream pierced through the entire mansion. I heard hurried footsteps, followed by Chad’s furious roar. “Let go of my sister!” Then, a brutal kick landed on my shoulder blade. I cried out in pain, releasing my bite, and curled up on the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eleanor tenderly cupping Tiffany’s ankle, then shooting me a glance filled with accusation and resentment. “Mom, I was worried Piper might be suffering. I came to bring her dinner, but she suddenly bit me for no reason. Mom, it hurts so much, will I get infected?” The whole family gathered around the slightly red, swollen tooth marks on Tiffany’s ankle. Not a single soul cared about me, emaciated and trembling, on the side. Before they found me, I’d been surviving on one meal a day for two months straight. Now, after three days of starvation, I was even seeing stars. They called an ambulance, and Tiffany was taken away. As Eleanor was leaving, she heard me cough twice. She turned back to look at me, a hint of awkwardness in her gaze. “Go upstairs and find some clothes to wear yourself. I’ll tell the housekeeper to make you a meal.” “Oh, right, don’t wander around, in case you spread your virus to Tiffany.” With that, she left the basement without another backward glance. I couldn’t tell if I was more heartbroken or more utterly speechless. Either way, leaving was now a certainty.

The housekeeper casually found me some ill-fitting clothes. She watched me like a hawk, not letting me wander, especially not daring to let me even step on the stairs leading to Tiffany’s third-floor room. I couldn’t stand this idiotic and cruel family anymore. I found an opportunity to escape. Tomorrow, my mentor, Professor Davies, had a project starting, and he’d specifically asked me to participate. That was why I was so desperate to earn quick money. The project required going abroad, and the expenses would be significant. I couldn’t burden my mentor, who had already helped me so much. But as soon as I escaped, I ran right into the family returning from the hospital. “Why can’t you ever settle down?” Mr. Sterling scowled the moment he saw me, roaring in anger. “I told you to stay home and recover.” “Once you’re free of that dirty virus, we can talk about everything, okay?” I wrenched my arm free from his grip, staring at him coldly. “Since you think I’m so unclean, then why don’t I just leave?” “You never really wanted to acknowledge me anyway.” Mr. Sterling grew agitated, ordering his men to seize me again and drag me back to the mansion. “Any other day, but not today. We can’t have a scene.” “Professor Davies is coming to our house for dinner tonight!” My ears perked up instantly. Professor Davies was coming! This was perfect! Seeing my stunned expression, Chad snorted. “Heh, you still claim you got into an Ivy League? Your cover’s blown, isn’t it?” “You don’t even know who Professor Davies is! I’ll tell you, he’s coming to take me on as his student today!” I grew even more puzzled. Hadn’t Professor Davies told me I was his chosen protégé? Mr. Sterling forcibly locked me in the attic, cautioning me. “Someone as filthy and unclean as you shouldn’t be seen by Professor Davies.” “If we can get involved in that massive project he’s working on, it’ll be a fortune beyond our wildest dreams!” “You understand how important this is, right?” “Don’t you want money? As long as you stay quiet and don’t cause trouble today, I’ll give you twenty thousand.” I remained silent, then agreed. A faint sense of glee bubbled up inside me. I hadn’t realized Professor Davies commanded such respect, making even a billionaire like Mr. Sterling nervous. The attic door was locked. I quietly waited for the commotion downstairs. After an unknown amount of time, a familiar voice drifted up from below. “Mr. Sterling, it’s getting late, I can’t stay much longer.” I immediately sprang up, pulling out the paperclip I’d hidden in my sleeve. In a few quick movements, I picked the lock. I tiptoed downstairs, listening to the Sterlings’ fawning flattery towards Professor Davies, all the while calculating how to make them pay. As I reached the corner of the dining room, Professor Davies’ hearty laughter reached my ears. I took a step forward, about to call out to him, But a pair of hands from behind clamped over my mouth, dragging me into the backyard. Tiffany brutally pushed my head under the swimming pool water. My mouth and nose filled with water. Just as I felt I was about to drown, Tiffany released me. I gasped and choked, coughing violently at the edge of the pool like a half-drowned rat. Tiffany leaned close to my ear, her voice venomous. “You, you will not ruin my life.” “I’m telling you, everything in the Sterling family belongs to me!” “You filthy Trailer Trash Girl, you’d better know your place.” “If this project goes through today, I’ll be a respected heiress nationwide.” “You dirty woman, don’t you dare try to ruin everything for me!” Before I could respond, a familiar voice cried out in alarm nearby. “What are you doing here?!” I struggled to lift my head, seeing Professor Davies standing a short distance away, his eyes filled with concern.

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My husband, Liam Miller, who’s the CEO of his company, pushed me to the floor again as he headed out late with his assistant, Mia Brown. I was five months pregnant. The second I hit the ground, I started bleeding. My abdomen cramped violently—a terrifying sign that I might miscarry. I begged Liam to help me. But he just scoffed and accused me of faking it. “Trying to guilt-trip me with the baby? Have you no shame?” Then he slammed the door and left. The pain was so intense I nearly passed out, but I mustered every bit of strength to call 91 After surgery, the baby was gone. I tried calling Liam, but his phone went straight to voicemail. A little while later, I saw Mia Brown’s Instagram post: “Unforgettable night Can’t wait to do this again soon!” The photo showed clothes strewn across the floor, a couple of used condom wrappers, and a very intimate selfie of her and Liam. As soon as I was released from the hospital, I told my mom, “I want a divorce.” 1. Mom looked at me, her face a mix of shock and relief. She’d never liked Liam, but she knew how much I’d loved him. I never would’ve given up so easily if I hadn’t been completely broken. My dad, who’d spent years climbing the corporate ladder himself, spoke up. “If you’re going to end it, do it properly. It’s always better to part on good terms.” I shook my head, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. Just last week, while I was still in the hospital, Mia had posted again. “Spontaneous hot springs trip! Shoutout to Liam Miller for this amazing surprise team retreat~” The photo showed them in matching robes, posed against the steamy backdrop of the hot springs. Mia was practically leaning into Liam’s shoulder, flashing a heart sign at the camera. In the background, I could just make out the private hot spring villa of a fancy resort. I recognized it instantly. Liam was wearing that dark blue robe I’d specially picked out for his birthday last year—the one he’d always called “too flashy” and refused to wear. I called to confront him about it. Liam didn’t even flinch. “Mia’s team hit their performance targets. It was a company team-building trip, and as the exec in charge, I just went as a formality.” “It’s a group thing—good for team morale. Totally normal.” Mia’s sickly sweet voice came through the line, muffled like she was speaking through a cloud of steam: “Liam, I forgot my towel. Can you grab it for me? It’s right on the rack next to you.” Liam calmly replied, “Sure.” Finally, like he was doing me a favor—or maybe just justifying himself—he said, “Chloe, team-building is part of work. Being this paranoid is only going to drive us apart. I brought her along to help her integrate faster. I’m just trying to fix the issues *you* created.” My chest felt like it was being stabbed—this suffocating pain that made it hard to breathe. Even now, he could spin their private hot spring trip into some “team-building” event and blame it all on my so-called “issues.” I texted him a photo of my miscarriage report. His response? Just: “The baby’s gone, whatever. Don’t try to play victim with this.” “At the end of the day, isn’t it your fault for not being able to keep the baby?” It was laughable, really. I’d been five months pregnant, careful with every step. If Liam hadn’t pushed me because of Mia, none of this would’ve happened. But every angry text I sent got blocked immediately. I stared at the failed message notification, my vision going blurry. Liam had blocked me! He was worried I’d ruin their little “team-building” trip. I guess I’d been too easy on him—made him think he could do whatever he wanted and I’d just take it. But he was wrong. No one sticks around forever, holding onto nothing.

After dinner with my parents, I went back to the house Liam and I had shared for three years. The second I turned the key, someone jumped out in front of me, blocking the door. “Master, just tell me what you want and I’ll—” She didn’t even finish her sentence. It was Mia Brown, dressed in a bunny maid costume. She recognized me instantly—or maybe just realized I wasn’t who she was waiting for. I stared at her thigh-high black stockings, her micro-mini skirt leaving almost nothing to the imagination. She was only eight years younger than me, but her youthful energy felt like a direct jab at my supposed “dullness.” “Oh, I’m so sorry… Liam asked me to come over.” “If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll leave right away.” Mia backed up, putting on this innocent act. She turned to leave but tripped over a box. At the same time, someone darted out from behind me, catching her fall with his own body. After making sure Mia was okay, Liam immediately turned on me with a string of accusations. “Chloe! Could you be any more childish?!” “Mia’s just a kid—how could you lay a hand on her?” I watched their little show with icy indifference. “A kid? A twenty-three-year-old kid?” “Liam, what kind of ‘kid’ wears that outfit in someone else’s house? She has no respect for boundaries!” SMACK! Liam backhanded me across the face. “Are you done with your little tantrum?” “Not everyone had your silver spoon upbringing, Chloe—some of us actually had to work for things!” Mia took the opportunity to start sobbing. “I’m… I’m sorry. I really am… so rude…” “But my parents died when I was little… no one ever taught me proper manners…” “The only mentor I had at work… he got transferred recently…” She buried her face in Liam’s chest, body wracked with sobs—but I caught the faint flicker of triumph in her eyes as she glanced at me. “Mia, none of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong…” Liam looked down at her softly, automatically reaching up to wipe her tears. But his hand froze halfway. Like he’d just registered what she was wearing. “Why are you dressed like that…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but his Adam’s apple bobbed. The hunger in his eyes was obvious. Mia loved his reaction. She ducked her head, pretending to be shy. “We have a company team-building gala tomorrow night. This is my costume for it.” “If you don’t like it, Liam, I can take it off right now!” With that, Mia actually started to unzip the costume. Liam stopped her immediately. Their hands touched, and suddenly I was the outsider in my own home. “If it’s for work, then it’s fine.” Liam gave me a pointed look. “Only someone with a dirty mind would see something inappropriate here!” I let out a bitter laugh. Watching Mia’s obvious act, I just felt sorry for the three years I’d wasted on him. Since we got married, he’d touched me less and less—even though I was his wife. I used to think marriage took work. That someday, I could make him love me again. But reality kept slapping me in the face. One affair after another, and now Mia. In his world, I was just arm candy. I tried everything to get close to him. I even wore the outfits my best friend suggested to try and impress him. But he pushed me away every time—looking more repulsed each time. I thought maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I even took dance classes. But even with my new skills, Liam never spared me a second look. All my attempts to connect with him? He called them “desperate” and “tacky.” Now Mia just bats her eyes, and he’s practically drooling—this same man who couldn’t stand to touch me. In that moment, all my efforts felt like a sick joke. It wasn’t that I wasn’t good enough. I just wasn’t the one he cared about.

“I should probably head back to my place.” Mia pushed Liam away and started packing her suitcase. A few photos “accidentally” fell out. They were explicit shots of them together—posed suggestively, looking at each other like they meant something. I’d begged him for years to take couple photos with me, but he always said he was too busy with work. When I pressed him, he’d call me “childish.” There were barely any photos of us together in this house. Liam snatched up the photos and tucked them away carefully. “It’s too late to go out now—it’s not safe. Just stay here tonight.” Mia glanced at me nervously. “Why are you looking at her? This is *my* house. I can have whoever I want over.” I looked at Liam calmly. “You’re right.” “This is your house.” I should be the one to leave. Besides, I wasn’t planning on coming back anyway. I walked past both of them and went straight to the bedroom to get my stuff. But Liam grabbed my arm. “You’ll sleep in the guest room.” “Mia wants to watch the sunrise tomorrow morning.” Some sunrise, huh? “Fine.” He looked surprised by how calm I was. The coldness on Liam’s face finally softened a bit. He noticed my cheek was still red and swollen. For once, there was a flicker of guilt in his voice. “Wait, let me get you some ointment.” “No thanks.” What was a bruised cheek compared to the hole in my chest? I ignored both of them, grabbed a suitcase, and quickly packed some clothes and essentials. I went straight to the guest room. Everything else could be replaced. Out with the old, in with the new. Liam tried to follow me in, but found the door locked. After knocking a few times, he spoke up—hesitant, like he was testing the waters. “Chloe, you’re not actually mad, are you?” Usually, Mia being here meant a huge fight. But now that I was calm—no tears, no yelling—he seemed nervous. I kept my voice flat, dripping with sarcasm. “Nope. Course not. She’s just your assistant, right? Not your side piece.” Silence hung in the air for a beat. Liam let out a breath, like he was relieved. “Chloe, just hang in there a little longer. I promise I’ll explain everything soon.” Explain? I couldn’t help but laugh. Too bad I don’t care anymore, Liam. “Liam!” Mia’s voice suddenly shrieked from the bathroom. Liam sprinted over, panic in his voice. “What happened, Mia? Did you slip?” “Mia?!” No matter how many times he called, there was no answer from inside. I stared at the closed bathroom door. Liam was so worried he didn’t even notice me standing in the hallway. After a few more unanswered calls, he hesitated for a second. Then he reached for the doorknob and twisted it—it wasn’t locked. The door swung open, and Mia—half-dressed—threw herself at him. She let out this breathy, moaning sound—total fake seduction. Liam tried to push her off, but his hand brushed against her chest. He froze instantly, like he couldn’t resist anymore. Mia got bolder, pressing her body fully against his. “Why? Am I not as good as the others? Not even as good as Chloe?” Liam sighed, trying to calm her down. “Shhh, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?” I watched their shadows merge on the wall. I unconsciously touched my stomach. The incision from the D&C was still sore. If I hadn’t dragged myself to the phone to call 911, I might not have survived. Funny how Mia trips and gets his undivided attention. I let out a bitter laugh and shut my door again.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty house. On the dining table, Liam had left bacon, eggs, and toast. There was a note next to the plate in his handwriting. *Took Mia to the office. Be back later.* I grabbed my suitcase. I dumped the cold breakfast straight into the trash. I also took off the bracelet I’d worn for two years and tossed that in too. It was the only gift Liam had ever given me. A hand-me-down from someone else, actually. I used to treat it like it was priceless. Now it all just felt worthless. When I got home, Mom took my suitcase, her face tight with worry. “Your dad and I just finished going over the divorce papers with the lawyer.” I looked around my childhood home, my throat feeling tight. “It’s all set?” “All set. I’ll go with you this afternoon to get your things. Good riddance to that man.” Tears filled Mom’s eyes as she spoke. I was an only child, spoiled rotten growing up. Before Liam, I’d never had a real problem in my life. Now I was broken because of a guy like him. My parents must have been hurting even more than I was. I reached up to wipe her tears. “Why are you crying? I’m home, aren’t I?” Our house was only a ten-minute walk from the law firm. As we got close, Mom realized she’d forgotten some papers. I told her to go back and get them, then meet me at the firm. But before I even went inside, I saw someone I knew. Mia Brown was practically glued to Liam, grinning like she’d won the lottery. Liam noticed me standing in the doorway. “Chloe, what are you doing here?” “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m just showing Mia some business stuff.” But the contract in his hand clearly said he was transferring multiple properties to her name. Watching them, I felt absolutely nothing. I kept my voice flat. “Whatever. Carry on.” I didn’t look back as I walked straight into the lawyer’s office. But Liam froze. Watching me leave, he suddenly looked panicked. “Chloe, wait! What are you doing here?”

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With my family’s international business expansion keeping me abroad, I’d been largely absent from North America. Concerned about my single status, Mom insisted I return home to accept an arranged engagement with the son of a local tycoon. But the moment I arrived at my engagement party, I discovered my photo had been replaced with a dog’s picture! Before I could process what was happening, my fiancé’s secretary sauntered over arrogantly and thrust a bag of dog waste into my hand. “What are you staring at? The birthday party starts soon. Go dispose of this.” Clenching my jaw to contain my rage, I demanded, “This is my engagement party. And you expect me to do this?” She brushed off my question with a dismissive wave. “Just do it. Quit wasting time with questions.” “Mr. Carter personally authorized me to run today’s event.” I paused in shock, then pulled out my phone and dialed my fiancé directly. “Kyle, you and the Carters think turning my engagement party into a dog’s birthday bash doesn’t require an explanation?”

This engagement held significant weight for both families’ reputations and future business ventures. My family had approached it with great seriousness. If they’d shown even a hint of remorse, I might have considered damage control for the sake of our families’ standing. “An explanation? What exactly do you expect me to explain?” My fiancé’s voice dripped with disdain over the line. “Mr. Carter, despite our lack of prior acquaintance, I am still intended to be your future daughter-in-law.” “Don’t you find it absurd to have a stranger bring a dog to replace me?” I hadn’t even finished speaking when the line went dead with a dial tone. I stood frozen in disbelief. Do all trust-fund kids have this level of arrogance? Watching this unfold, the secretary let out an audible snort. “Miss Vincent, I’d advise you to just follow instructions.” “Given the Carter family’s standing in Seattle, your marriage to them is practically a fairy tale come true.” Judging by my youth and casual attire, she clearly didn’t take me seriously. “I’m the guest of honor here! There’s no way I’m doing this!” Mid-sentence, I raised my hand and pointed to the nearby staff. “If you keep this up, I’ll have security remove all of you!” My threat to call for help didn’t intimidate her—in fact, it only emboldened her further. “Miss Vincent, I suggest you don’t waste your energy.” “This is Carter property. Do you honestly think anyone in Seattle would side with you?” She grew increasingly worked up,spit nearly sprayed onto my face. I balled my hands into fists, my expression turning icy. “Some petty business family thinks they own the city? How laughable!” The words had barely left my mouth when the secretary suddenly pushed me. “Who the hell do you think you are, you little bitch, insulting the Carter family!” “I’m warning you one last time: cooperate, or you won’t make it out of here in one piece!” Since coming of age, I’d lived at our family’s estate in South America, rarely visiting North America. No one had ever dared to threaten me directly. Her brazen attitude ignited a fire in me. “Is that a fact? I highly doubt it!” My defiance made the staff present gasp. “Whoa, this girl’s got guts! Backtalking Secretary Lisa like that? She must have a death wish!” “It’s just a dog’s birthday party—no big deal. If the engagement falls through over this, she’s the one who’ll regret it.” “Exactly. Bagging a Carter is already a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—why quibble over details?” As the whispers grew louder, the secretary’s smirk widened. “Hear that? A nobody like you, no connections, no influence—still deluding yourself about being a Carter? Keep dreaming!” Their mockery didn’t faze me—in fact, it was almost entertaining. “Secretary Lisa, was it? I’ll give you one last chance.” “Restore my venue and ceremony to their original state!” “Restore what, you absolute moron!” After hurling insults, she still wasn’t satisfied. Rolling up her sleeves, she lunged at me again. “Oh really?” “The Carter family’s attack dog, ready to pounce at the first command?” The secretary took several swings at me, but couldn’t even touch my clothes. Her face turned red with rage and frustration. “You little bitch—dodge me again, I dare you!” “I’m calling Mr. Carter right now, mark my words!” Despite her repeated provocation, I held back from retaliating. Not because I feared her, but because Mom had warned me repeatedly. “At this engagement party, keep your temper in check. No fighting. And for heaven’s sake, don’t kill anyone.” Besides, I don’t make moves without purpose. I either don’t act at all, or I go all in—no half measures! Seeing my silence, Lisa assumed I was intimidated. She raised her fist and charged at me again. Just in time, a furious shout boomed from the entrance. “Stop!”

A muscular man, flanked by bodyguards, strode in briskly. “Lisa, you’re my personal secretary. How could you brawl with someone in public like this?” “You must be Kyle, my fiancé?” I studied the man before me. I had to admit, Mom had decent taste. Close to six-foot-three, in a tailored designer suit, he was handsome and refined. If I had to criticize something, it was the icy indifference in his eyes when he looked at me. “Mr. Carter. Pleased to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself—I’m Aria Vincent, from…” “Spare me.” Before I could finish, Kyle raised his hand impatiently, cutting me off. “I couldn’t care less who you are.” I almost thought I was hearing things. I was supposed to be his future wife, for God’s sake. The engagement party hadn’t even started, and my own fiancé was publicly humiliating me. Who would put up with that? “Mr. Carter, even if we’ve never met and this is an arranged engagement, it’s still rude to cut me off mid-sentence, don’t you think?” My words made Kyle’s expression darken immediately. “Rude? Look at yourself. Do you honestly think you’re good enough for me?” Kyle gave me a disdainful once-over and scoffed, “Let me make this crystal clear: if my father weren’t forcing this marriage, I wouldn’t waste a second on some foreign drifter with a questionable past!” He suddenly raised his voice, addressing everyone in the room. “And don’t delude yourself that this engagement makes you Carter family. I’ll never marry you—not in a million years!” After Kyle’s outburst, I just shrugged indifferently. “Since you’ve made your feelings clear, I have no interest in forcing this. However…” My tone suddenly sharpened, dropping several degrees in temperature. “I don’t see any reason to continue with this engagement today, do you?” I’d intended to end this civilly, but this arrogant heir wouldn’t listen—he thought I was just playing hard to get. “Vincent, cut the games!” “Do you have any idea how many women in Seattle would kill for this chance?” Instead of getting angry, I laughed. “Mr. Carter, I couldn’t care less about other women’s fantasies. I want nothing to do with you. And this Carter family you’re so proud of… please.” My words sparked immediate murmurs throughout the ballroom. “Unbelievable! She’s actually insulting the Carter heir? She must be out of her mind!” “Right! Kyle Carter is Seattle’s most eligible bachelor. This girl has no idea what she’s turning down.” “If I were her, I wouldn’t care if it was a dog’s birthday party. Marrying into the Carters is all that matters!” The skeptical murmurs continued around me, but I tuned them out. In Seattle, the Carters were certainly considered new money royalty, with business interests up and down the West Coast. But what did all that wealth matter? When faced with real power, it was just a number on a screen. I still remembered watching Kyle’s father, Robert Carter—CEO of Carter Group—groveling before my godfather. Within thirty minutes, Robert was sweating bullets, terrified of misstepping. He had no idea his precious alliance was being destroyed by his own son. “Vincent! I’ll ask you one last time: do you really want to end this engagement?” I met Kyle’s gaze steadily and nodded firmly. “Without a doubt.”

Kyle clearly hadn’t expected such resolve; his face twisted in frustration. Seeing this, Secretary Lisa quickly intervened. “Mr. Carter, don’t worry. I’ll handle this with your father.” “A delusional nobody like her—you’re better off without the hassle!” Kyle nodded slightly, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “But the invitations went out. Calling this off now could damage the family name.” Before he could finish, Lisa pounded her chest confidently. “Mr. Carter, I’m right here, aren’t I?” Kyle’s eyes lit up instantly. “Lisa, you mean…” The secretary nodded eagerly, practically glowing with excitement. “The party goes on as planned! I’ll be the guest of honor!” Kyle looked ready to hug her. “Lisa… thank you so much for bailing me out!” “Don’t worry—after this, the Carters won’t forget your loyalty!” Watching this display, I let out a cold laugh. “Alright, that’s enough.” “Mr. Carter, now that the party’s all set up, shouldn’t we discuss compensation?” I gestured toward the chaotic ballroom and that ridiculous pet birthday banner. “This engagement was an important agreement between the Vincent and Carter families. You’ve turned it into a farce—how do you expect my family to save face? You owe me an explanation today!” My words triggered immediate laughter from the crowd. “Is she serious? Trying to extort the Carters because her engagement fell through?” “Right! The Carters are loaded. They’d pay her off without a second thought.” I scanned the room, my voice turning icy. “Ladies and gentlemen, my family’s honor isn’t for sale.” Kyle still didn’t grasp the severity of the situation. “So you’re embarrassed? Big deal.” He said, sauntering toward me. “All this posturing—you just want more money, don’t you?” “How much do you want? Ten grand? A million? Name your price.” I clenched my jaw to contain my anger, fixing him with a stare. “Mr. Carter, do you honestly believe money solves everything?” Kyle quirked an eyebrow, looking at me like I was beneath him. “Doesn’t it?” “Listen here, Vincent—this is Carter territory!” “One call from me, and you’ll be run out of Seattle!” I fought the urge to punch him, speaking slowly and clearly. “Mr. Carter, that sounds like a threat.” Before Kyle could answer, Lisa jumped in, eager to defend him. “You bet it is! What are you gonna do about it?” “Go ahead—make a move!” I turned to her, my voice cold and flat. “You actually take pride in being his yes-man?” Lisa’s face turned crimson. She pointed at me, sputtering but unable to form words. Kyle stepped in front of her protectively. “Who the hell do you think you’re calling a yes-man?” “Lisa’s been with me since college. She’s practically family.” “Apologize to her right now, or you’re not leaving this room!”

Two threats in one hour. Unbelievable. No one had dared cross me since I took over the family business. I said nothing more, pulling out my phone in front of everyone. “Godfather, it’s me.” A calm but concerned voice answered. “Aria? It’s late. Is the engagement going well?” I gave Kyle a pointed look, then laughed coldly. “There’s a problem. The Carters turned the venue into a dog’s birthday party and expect me to play along.” The voice on the line turned icy instantly. “What did you say? The Carters dare insult the Vincent family like this?” My anger hit its boiling point. “I wouldn’t joke about this. They also threatened to run me out of Seattle.” I summarized the situation. The line went silent, then came the sound of shattering glass. “Who did this?” Before I could answer, Lisa snatched the phone from my hand. “You must be this bitch’s guardian?” “I’m Lisa, personal secretary to Mr. Kyle Carter of the Seattle Carters. Whatever complaint you have, tell me!” My godfather—who’d never been spoken to like that in his life—paused in shock. “You’re the one who turned my family’s engagement into a dog party?” Lisa, completely oblivious to who she was provoking, kept up her arrogant act. “So what? Cut the crap and tell me what you want!” I could practically feel the godfather’s rage through the phone. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Caught off guard by his tone, Lisa shot back immediately. “Old man, you been watching too many gangster movies?” “I’d like to see who in Seattle has the balls to mess with the Carters!” She hung up and looked at Kyle with a self-satisfied grin, clearly expecting praise. I couldn’t help laughing out loud at the spectacle. “Mr. Carter, you’ve got quite a secretary.” “Not many people in America have that kind of nerve.” Lisa ignored my warning entirely. “Your so-called godfather doesn’t scare me. As long as Mr. Carter’s here, the Carters aren’t going anywhere!” I smiled faintly. “You think the Carters will still exist in Seattle by tomorrow morning?” No sooner had I spoken than someone in the crowd yelled out. “Look outside!” Everyone turned toward the windows. Over a dozen Lamborghini Venenos pulled up silently outside the hotel. Men in black suits poured out in perfect unison.

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Last year, my 400ml donation of O-negative blood saved my boss’s only son. By the hospital bed, Mrs. Thompson didn’t even glance up. “Consider yourself honored to have saved my son.” The entire family crowded around the boy, celebrating. Meanwhile, I collapsed in the hallway from anemia—yet not a single word of concern came my way. A year later, in the dead of night, my phone lit up with 78 missed calls. My boss’s voice boomed in the voicemail: “Liam needs blood urgently! You’re the only one who can save him!” I pressed the record button, then slowly replied: “Last time, I was a fool. This time? I’m not saving a jerk’s son.” My phone buzzed like crazy on the table. Seventy-eight missed calls—all from my boss. I stared at the name, my stomach twisting into knots. It was 3 a.m. I picked up my phone and tapped the latest voicemail. Mr. Thompson’s voice exploded through the speaker. “Why the hell aren’t you answering?!” “My son’s in crisis again!” “It’s cute hemolysis! The hospital says only you can save him!” “Get over here right now!” I listened, stone-faced. My finger slid to the top of the screen and hit record. Memories from last year flashed through my mind, one after another. At the hospital, the sharp smell of antiseptic hung in the air. I lay in the donor chair as they drew blood from my arm. A full 400 milliliters. The nurse said, “Your blood type is extremely rare—O-negative.” I nodded. She added, “You’re saving a child’s life. That’s a true blessing.” I didn’t say anything. Then the blood bag was wheeled away, and the nurse helped me to a recovery area, pressing a cup of sweetened water into my hand. Dizzy and lightheaded, I staggered toward the VIP ward, clinging to the wall for support. Mr. Thompson’s son was in that VIP room. The door stood ajar. Through the gap, I could see them all: Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, both sets of grandparents, clustered around the bed. A pale little boy lay there, my blood flowing into his veins through the IV line. Mrs. Thompson wiped away tears, and Mr. Thompson patted her back. They murmured, “It’s okay now. He’s going to pull through.” The room buzzed with the giddy relief of a crisis averted. No one looked towards the door, no one noticed me. I slid down the wall, too faint to stand, my throat tight with unspeakable words. Through the door crack, Mrs. Thompson’s voice drifted clearly: “Did you take care of that donor?” “Yeah, I gave her some cash. She’s gone.” “Good. Keep her away from us. She’s just an employee—expendable.” “Our son’s life is what matters.” The hallway spun, a high-pitched ring in my ears. I crumpled to the cold tile floor. As my vision faded, I watched the ward door click shut, sealing in their laughter. Mr. Thompson was still screaming through the phone: “What, are you dead? Answer me now!” I took a deep breath, then slowly replied: “Last time, I was a fool. This time? I’m not saving a single soul.”

The line went silent. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand. I flopped back onto my pillow, staring at the ceiling. It was just like this a year ago, when I woke up in that hospital room. The ceiling was white. The sheets were white too. A young nurse sat beside my bed. When she noticed I was awake, she exhaled in relief. “You passed out from anemia. Gave me quite a scare.” I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper. “Thank you.” The nurse handed me a glass of water. “My colleague found you.” “Your boss’s family is something else, let me tell you.” “Once their kid stabilized, they booked it out of here.” “Left you passed out in the hallway like yesterday’s trash.” I drank the water and slowly sat up. “They… left?” “Yep, zoomed off in their fancy cars. Real picture-perfect family.” The nurse rolled her eyes. “Oh, right—they left this for you.” She took an envelope from the bedside table. It was thin. I opened it. Five hundred dollars. My 400ml of rare, precious blood—reduced to a measly $500. The nurse spotted the envelope and her cheeks flushed with anger. “That’s absolute garbage!” “Your blood type goes for hundreds of thousands on the black market!” “Their family’s loaded, and they toss you a lousy $500?!” I squeezed the flimsy bills, forcing a smile as I stayed silent. My reaction only made the nurse more worked up. “How can you even smile right now?” “You should march right in there and demand answers!” I shook my head. “It’s fine.” What explanation could there possibly be? “It was her duty”—that one line said it all. I stayed in the hospital overnight. The next day, I checked myself out. My body felt hollow, like I might float away when I walked. I took a cab back to my apartment and stayed in bed for three days straight. On the fourth day, the company HR manager called. “You’ve been MIA for three days without filing leave.” “You planning to kiss that perfect attendance bonus goodbye?” I told her I’d been sick. The HR manager scoffed. “Donating blood isn’t an illness, last I checked.” “Mr. Thompson filled me in.” “You gave a little blood. Don’t be so dramatic.” “Get back to work. Your desk is piled high.” The call clicked off. I dragged myself back to the office, still weak as a kitten. My coworkers stared with a mix of pity, judgment, and quiet amusement. That afternoon, Mrs. Thompson showed up. She sashayed into the office in a Chanel suit, Hermès bag swinging from her arm. Heads snapped up. “Afternoon, Mrs. Thompson!” She marched straight to my desk and slammed a fruit basket down. “Donating blood isn’t a death sentence, kid. Enjoy.” With that, she spun on her heel and left. I stared at the basket. Inside: five overripe bananas and two sad apples. Total value? Maybe three bucks. That was her idea of thanks for saving her son’s life.

That month, they docked $1,000 from my paycheck. Three unexcused absences, plus a sick day, they said. And of course, my perfect attendance bonus vanished. I went to HR to fight it, but she just gave me the cold shoulder. “Company policy,” she said flatly. I scowled. “It wasn’t unexcused.” “I was donating blood for our boss’s kid.” The HR manager leaned back, arms folded. “So?” “You chose to donate. No one held a gun to your head.” “The company didn’t fire you for letting personal matters interfere with work. Count your blessings.” She finished and lowered my head, dismissing me with a wave. I stood there, blood turning to ice. Saving his son’s life was just my “personal matter,” apparently. I returned to my desk. I opened my drawer and tucked the $500 and this month’s pay stub together. I also saved a photo of Mrs. Thompson’s fruit basket on my phone. I started packing my things quietly. Mr. Thompson stepped out of his office. He noticed the cardboard box by my feet and frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” I met his gaze. “I’m resigning.” He paused, then laughed. “You realize how tough the job market is right now?” “This is just a little misunderstanding. No need to quit over it.” I stared at him. “A misunderstanding?” The smile slid off his face. “Fine. Just get back to work.” I placed the last item in the box. Then I looked at him, enunciating clearly: “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.” My voice stayed steady. The irritation on his face finally erupted into anger. “Don’t come crawling back when you regret this!” I ignored him, picked up the box, and walked out of that office for good. Whispers erupted behind me like a wave. I kept walking. The sun blazed outside. I stood outside the office building, looking up, and breathed in the fresh air. For the next month, I took a break from job hunting to brush up on new skills. Later, I landed a new job with an amazing work environment. I’d almost forgotten about that family. Until tonight. Until those 78 missed calls. My phone started buzzing again. I hit decline. I silenced it. Then I tossed it to the foot of my bed. Finally, blessed silence.

The peace lasted less than three minutes. Then my phone started lighting up like a Christmas tree. I watched Mr. Thompson’s name flash across the screen. I answered and hit speaker, making sure the whole call recorded. “You bitch!” Mr. Thompson’s scream shredded the silence. “What was that you just said?” I stayed quiet, listening. On the other end, a woman sobbed and machines beeped frantically. Chaos. Pure, desperate chaos. That desperation felt familiar. A year ago, in that cold hallway, I’d sounded just like that. “You want money, is that it?” “Name your price! How much do you want?!” “Half a million? A million?!” “Just get here and donate, and I’ll wire the money right now!” I finally spoke up. “My blood’s worth a million now?” “Last year it was only five hundred bucks, right?” Dead silence on the other end. He sounded like he was choking on his words. After a beat, he ground out: “That was then!” “This is now!” “Cut the crap! A million—are you coming or not?!” I laughed softly. “Nope.” He was practically foaming through the phone. “Don’t act so high and mighty!” “Do you think I can’t make you disappear in this city?!” I yawned. “Mr. Thompson, don’t you remember?” “You said that exact same thing a year ago.” “And here I am, doing just fine. Remember?” His breathing turned ragged over the line. I knew every word hit him right where it hurt. Because it was all true. He had zero power over me now. Suddenly, someone else grabbed the phone. Mrs. Thompson’s shrill voice cut through: “You heartless bitch!” “How could you do this to my boy?!” I held the phone away from my ear. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. “Your memory’s pretty selective.” “Last year, *you* said, ‘She’s just an employee—she should be grateful.’” “Your son’s someone’s child—don’t you think I am too?” “I passed out from blood loss right outside your son’s room. Did any of you even glance my way?” Mrs. Thompson went silent. A venomous quiet took over. I could picture her face right then. Priceless. “That… that was because we were so worried…” Her voice turned wobbly, thick with sobs. “I’m sorry. We were wrong.” “Please, I’m begging you—don’t hold this against us.” “Save my son, and we’ll give you whatever you ask for.” Her little performance just made me sick. I hung up without another word. Then I blocked all their numbers. I tossed my phone aside and settled back to sleep. A few minutes later, a text popped up from an unknown number. “You think this is over?” “I’m warning you—you can’t run.” “I’ll find you, no matter what.” It was Mr. Thompson, of course. I read the text and smiled. Then I blocked that number too. Sweet dreams, Mr. Thompson. Hope your whole family sleeps well tonight.

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My mom was mute, and also, the village’s notorious outcast–publicly branded a tramp. When I was ten, I saw her, clothes disheveled, rushing out of the local bachelor’s shack, clutching two hundred dollars. I hid behind a haystack, watching the village kids pelt her with stones, calling her filthy. She didn’t dodge. She just held those two bills tightly to her chest, her face bloody, and smiled at me. It was from that day on that I never called her “Mom” again. I started studying relentlessly, just to escape this godforsaken valley and never come back. The day I got my college acceptance letter, I thought I could finally be rid of her. But then, the police surrounded our village. I stood behind the crowd, clutching my freshly arrived college acceptance letter. My mom was escorted out by two officers. Her hair was a mess, her shirt collar torn open, revealing a faded, yellowed undershirt. She was still clutching a pair of scissors tightly, blood dripping from the tip. “I told you she was a jinx!” Mrs. Miller from next door spat on the ground, cracking sunflower seeds. “Sure, she was always with men, but killing Mr. Hayes? The town leader? This time she’s gone too far!” “That trash deserves to be executed a hundred times over.” People around us pointed and whispered, their faces alight with the thrill of a spectacle. I buried my head low, repeating to myself over and over. Please don’t look at me. Please don’t recognize me. But that woman, she stopped dead in her tracks. She searched frantically through the crowd, her eyes wide. The moment she saw me, her murky eyes suddenly lit up. Her mouth hung open, and she struggled desperately to reach me. “Ah… ah ah!” The officers yanked her, but she resisted. She tried to reach into her pocket, where she usually hid money. “Settle down!” an officer barked, pushing her into the car. The entire village’s gaze snapped onto me. “Hey, isn’t that Aurora Hayes?” “The college girl, with a murderer for a mom. Can she even go to college now?” I felt a wave of nausea and turned to run. I remembered a similar twilight when I was little. A strange man emerged from her house, adjusting his pants, a satisfied look on his face. He tossed a few crumpled bills on the ground. My mom knelt, picking them up one by one. Afterward, she’d bow low to him, then clutching the money, she’d happily run over, wanting to buy me candy. I didn’t understand. Dad had left her a significant inheritance. Our family wasn’t poor, so why did she do this? Or was it like the villagers said? She was just naturally depraved, incapable of living without a man. I slapped her hand away, and the candy rolled into the mud. “Filthy.” She froze, standing there, bewildered. From then on, I was ostracized at school. My backpack would be stuffed with dead mice, my desk carved with “SLUT.” I never cried. But I blamed her for all the hatred. I studied relentlessly, aiming for the top of my class. I thought, once I got into college, I could fly out of this valley, completely shed this stench of scandal. Just yesterday, I received my acceptance letter to the State University. I thought I had finally crawled out of the mud. But now, she was dragging me back down with her. I looked at the photo of us on the wall. It was taken ten years ago. She was hugging me, smiling so foolishly. I rushed over, ripped the photo down, and tore it to shreds. “Why are you ruining me?!” I screamed at the empty house. “Being a tramp your whole life wasn’t enough? Now you want me to be a murderer’s daughter too?”

The next day, I was taken to the police station. The interrogation room lights were stark white. Across from me sat an old detective, Detective Reynolds, his hair gray, his eyes sharp. “Aurora Hayes?” He flipped through the case file. “The victim, Mr. Hayes, suffered seven stab wounds.” “Each one fatal. His carotid artery was severed.” “Your mom attacked viciously.” I listened, numb. Mr. Hayes was the town leader. He had always treated our family with respect, even speaking up for us when others badmouthed us. I didn’t understand why Mom would suddenly kill him. “What was the motive?” I asked. “She won’t say,” Detective Reynolds lit a cigarette. “She hasn’t uttered a word since she was brought in, wouldn’t even gesture.” “She has only one request, she wants to see you.” Through the iron bars, I saw her. After just one night, she looked ten years older. Half her hair was white, the dried blood on her face had formed black scabs. Seeing me enter, she trembled with excitement, the chains rattling loudly. “Ah ah!” She reached her hand through the bars, trying to grasp mine. Her fingernails were still caked with dry, black blood. I recoiled, stepping back. Her hand froze in mid-air, her eyes dimming instantly. “Why?” I stared at her, not a single tear falling. “Why did you kill him?” She opened her mouth, gesturing frantically. Her left hand shaped like a book, her right hand making a counting money gesture. Money again. School again. But we weren’t short on money. Was she trying to make me feel guilty? My rage exploded. “Money, money, money! Is it really all about money?!” I lunged forward, and through the bars, I slapped her hard. The sharp sound echoed in the interrogation room. She didn’t dodge. The slap landed squarely on her face, splitting the dry blood scab. Detective Reynolds rushed in, grabbing me. “What are you doing? This is a police station!” I shook off the detective’s hand, pointing at the mute woman, screaming hysterically. “Do you really think I didn’t know about the inheritance Dad left?!” “Do you know what the villagers said about me because of what you did?!” “You ruined me!” Sarah covered her face, large tears rolling down. Ignoring the blood at the corner of her mouth, she continued to gesture desperately. First pointing outside, then clasping her hands together, then bowing repeatedly. She was pleading with me, begging me to go to school, begging me to leave this place. Seeing her in such a humble, lowly state, I remembered the men moving on top of her and felt only disgust. “I don’t need your filthy money.” I pulled out the torn half of my acceptance letter from my pocket. In front of her, I crumpled it into a ball and threw it at her face. “From today on, you’re not my mom.” “Whether you live or die, it has nothing to do with me.” She froze, looking at the crumpled paper on the floor, her lips trembling, unable to make a sound. I turned and walked away. “Aurora!” Detective Reynolds called after me. “Your mom, she was protecting her pocket, inside it…” “Throw it away.” I didn’t look back. “Her things, I find them disgusting.” As I walked out of the police station, a heart-wrenching wail came from behind me. “Ah!” I paused, then walked even faster. I told myself, this was her karma.

The case was decided quickly. The evidence was conclusive, and the suspect confessed without hesitation. She even refused the court-appointed lawyer. The day the verdict came down, it was overcast. Aggravated murder, cruel methods, heinous circumstances—death penalty, to be carried out swiftly. I was packing my bags when I received the verdict. Seeing the words “death penalty,” I felt a subtle sense of relief. If she died, no one would know I had a mom who went to jail. The gossip would eventually fade in a few years. I sold the few acres of land we owned. It was good land in the village, but I was in a hurry to sell and got a lower price. Mr. Hayes’s relative bought the land, giving me the money with a look of disdain. “Take it. This is the money she sacrificed her life for.” I didn’t say a word, took it, and put it in my pocket. Nobody wanted the dilapidated house, so I sold everything inside for next to nothing. Pots, pans, old furniture—it all brought in eighty dollars. While tidying the bed, I pried a rusty tin box out from between the bricks under the bed. A rusty mooncake tin. I remembered that box. When I was little, whenever a man came over, she’d put money in it. I’d always thought it was her burial fund. Opening the box, a musty smell wafted out. It was packed full of money. One-dollar bills, five-dollar bills, the largest denomination was only ten. Not a single hundred-dollar bill. But every bill was smoothed out perfectly, stacked neatly by size. Some corners were stained with black coal dust, some with white cement powder. I counted it. Twelve thousand dollars in total. Exactly enough for my four years of college tuition and living expenses. I looked at the money, a mix of emotions churning inside me. Was this what she had saved her whole life? Where was Dad’s inheritance? So many five and ten-dollar bills, how many men did she have to entertain for this? I felt disgusted. I wanted to throw this money away, to burn it. But looking at the empty house, and at the bus ticket in my hand for the provincial capital. I still kept the money. “This is what you owe me.” I said to the air. “You gave birth to me, then ruined me. This is what you owe me.” Before I left, the prison called. They said family members were allowed one last visit before the execution. “I’m not going,” I said into the phone. “I’m busy registering for school, I don’t have time.” There was a long silence on the other end. “Aurora, that’s your own mother,” the officer’s voice was filled with anger. “I don’t have a murderer for a mom.” I hung up, pulled out the phone line, slung on my backpack, and locked the broken door. Under the big old tree at the village entrance, a crowd had gathered. Mr. Hayes’s son sat there crying, cursing as he wept. “A life for a life!” Seeing me, he picked up a stone and threw it. “Kill the bastard!” The stone hit my back. It hurt. I didn’t stop, gritting my teeth, and walked out of that village. It wasn’t until I was on the bus heading to the provincial capital that I finally let out a long, shaky breath. Aurora, you’re free. A month later, I was in the university cafeteria, gnawing on a fried chicken leg. The dorm mother called me, “Aurora Hayes, phone call!” I wiped the grease from my mouth and ran downstairs. It was Detective Reynolds. “Your mom… she’s gone.” His voice was low. “This morning at ten, the execution was carried out.” My hand tightened on the receiver, then relaxed. “Oh, okay.” “She passed peacefully, didn’t suffer,” Detective Reynolds paused. “She just kept staring at the door, her eyes open until the very end.” My heart trembled, but I quickly suppressed it. “Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up, I have class.” “Nothing else.” After hanging up, I stood in the bustling campus. Around me were brightly dressed college students, laughter, and bright sunshine. I touched my meal card in my pocket again. The money in it was earned with her life. But I told myself, it was her atonement. I bought a can of soda, the icy liquid pouring down my throat. I told myself: Aurora, celebrate this new beginning.

Life at college was free of curses, judgmental stares, and no one knew my past. I studied hard, joined clubs, and even got a boyfriend. I felt like I had completely cleansed myself. Until Detective Reynolds appeared at the school gate again. He was in plain clothes, carrying a black plastic bag, shivering in the cold wind. Seeing me, he hurried over. “Aurora.” I frowned, instinctively stepping back, glancing around. Thankfully, my boyfriend wasn’t around. “Why are you here?” I asked in a low, unfriendly tone. “These are your mom’s belongings,” he handed me the black plastic bag. “She clutched it fiercely before she left, wouldn’t let anyone touch it.” “She gestured that I absolutely had to give it to you personally.” I looked at the bag, and said coldly. “I don’t want it.” “Take it.” Detective Reynolds sighed, forcing it into my hand. “It’s a keepsake.” Then, he gave me a deep look, turned, and left. I held the bag, feeling its surprising weight. I walked to the trash can behind the dorm. Opening the bag, a stale smell, a mix of mold and blood, assaulted my senses. It was a padded jacket. Deep blue, an old-fashioned style, the collar worn white, the cuffs patched all over. It was that tattered padded jacket she’d worn for over ten years. I remembered. Every winter, she’d wear this one jacket. Working, sleeping, going out—it was always this one, stained with indelible grime. “So disgusting.” I picked it up distastefully with two fingers. On the front of the jacket, there was a large, dark red stain. It must have been the blood from when she killed Mr. Hayes that day. I remembered her smiling at me, her face covered in blood. My stomach churned again. “Why keep this junk? It’s repulsive.” I raised my hand, swinging the jacket forcefully towards the trash can. There was a piece of wire sticking out from the rim of the trash can. “Rip!” The jacket caught on the wire, tearing a long gash. The cheap, dark cotton stuffing inside wasn’t what came out. “Thud.” A thick wad of something fell from the jacket’s interlayer, landing in the snow. Immediately after, a neatly folded piece of paper fluttered down. I froze. The wad was wrapped tightly, layer upon layer, in plastic. It had come undone, revealing a corner. It was all money. Five-dollar bills, ten-dollar bills, even a handful of coins. Exactly like what I’d found in the tin box. I stiffly bent down and picked up the paper. The paper was heavily creased, still stained with a bit of dried blood. I opened it. It was covered in tiny, crooked words. Like a child’s scrawl, almost illegible. She couldn’t read, much less write. These words, she must have painstakingly copied them from a dictionary in prison. I looked at the first line of words, and I froze, tears instantly gushing out.

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At our holiday family gathering on New Year’s Eve, my mom suddenly blurted out, loud enough for everyone to hear: “Which man gave you the flu?” I stared at her, completely confused. “What are you talking about?” My mom smirked, looking smug. “I knew you couldn’t stay out of trouble.” Then, she looked pointedly at my husband, Ryan, and added, her voice dripping with implication: “You probably don’t know this, but before Emma married you, she was wild. Her dad and I couldn’t rein her in at all.” My eyes widened. “What are you saying?” Seeing my anger, my mom seemed to get even happier. “What’s wrong? Did you do it but can’t own up to it now?” Facing my mother’s slander, I clenched my fists under the table. Since you love spreading malicious rumors about me so much, I guess I don’t need to keep your secrets anymore. At the dinner table, in front of everyone, my mom continued her endless stream of nonsense: “Emma, you’re incredibly lucky to have found a husband like Ryan. Yet, you’re still not satisfied, going out and messing around behind his back. Do you think you’re some kind of irresistible charmer?” I was so furious my head was spinning. “What right do you have to say I’m cheating? Do you have any proof?” My mom rolled her eyes, airily dismissing me. “Ryan doesn’t have the flu, but you do. And you had hives recently too. If you weren’t messing around, where did these illnesses come from?” It was true, I’d been sick a few times lately. Year-end financial closings were brutal, with tons of projects and constant overtime, leading to irregular meals and a weakened immune system. But I thought it was all worth it, because I’d achieved my goals, delivering accurate data by year-end. My colleagues even said I was the most promising candidate for promotion next year. I never imagined all that hard work would become my mother’s excuse to badmouth me. Facing the questioning gazes of my in-laws and Ryan, my dad chuckled and said to me: “Alright, your mom is just joking, don’t take it seriously.” My dad always felt Mom had sacrificed a lot when they were building their business, so no matter how wild she got, he chose to forgive her unconditionally. And because of that endless indulgence, my mom only became more outrageous. Watching everyone’s faces return to normal, she turned back to Ryan and continued: “Starting tomorrow, I’ll move into your house to keep an eye on Emma, so she doesn’t mess around again.” Ryan awkwardly waved his hand. “No, Mom, it’s fine. Emma is perfectly good, she won’t cause any trouble.” My mom grabbed Ryan’s hand, glaring. “A man shouldn’t be such a doormat! If she does something to hurt you, I absolutely must discipline her.” “If you can’t bring yourself to scold or punish her, I will. I promise I’ll whip her into shape.” Watching my mom’s earnest declaration, I suddenly felt a twisted urge to laugh. Were these words really coming from my own mother? Other mothers wish their daughters well; even if there’s conflict between a young couple, they’d side with their daughter. But my mom? She just dragged my name through the mud and then offered to discipline me on behalf of my husband. After the holiday dinner ended, my mom continued to monopolize Ryan and my in-laws, talking endlessly. Seeing my in-laws’ grim faces and Ryan’s evasive eyes, I suddenly realized I was truly fed up with my mom.

I don’t know why, but my mom always seemed to find it incredibly amusing to spread rumors and belittle me in front of others. From fabricating stories about me stealing when I was a child, to spreading a rumor that I was having an affair with a professor at my college graduation ceremony. I had almost no friends; everyone avoided me like the plague. But every time I confronted her, my mom showed no remorse, claiming she was “just joking” and who knew people would actually believe her. Whether she was joking or not, all I knew was that whenever she opened her mouth, nothing good ever came out. After dating Ryan for a year and a half, hiding it from my parents, I decided to take him home to meet them. Worried that my mom would say something detrimental again, my palms were sweating the entire way home that day. My dad tried to reassure me, saying she was my mother, and no matter what she was usually like, she’d surely think of me at a crucial moment like this. When we arrived, my mom’s attitude towards Ryan was actually quite decent, and half my worries dissipated. I started to believe my dad; at key moments, my mom was different. But then, my mom proceeded to badmouth me to Ryan for the entire afternoon. “Look, this is Emma when she was in high school. So dark and fat, and so tall. She looked like a mountain standing there.” My mom showed Ryan my high school class photo. Back then, I’d gained a lot of weight due to academic stress and had even been bullied because of my size. My mom knew all of this, yet now she was telling it as a funny story. I held back tears, struggling to say: “There were so many assignments I couldn’t finish them all. Every day after dinner, I went straight to homework, and I wouldn’t sleep until 1 or 2 AM. The doctor said my weight gain was due to hormone imbalance.” My mom shot me an annoyed glance. “Alright, alright, don’t act like you were some brilliant student.” Then, my mom turned back to Ryan: “You probably don’t know this, but Emma’s grades were actually terrible. She almost got kicked out of college.” The extreme suppression of my emotions made my voice tremble. “That was just one class I failed, and I passed the make-up exam in the second semester.” But this time, my mom didn’t even acknowledge it. She just kept telling Ryan stories about my past. My dad tried to stop her several times, but she wouldn’t shut up. That entire afternoon, if Ryan showed even the slightest interest, my mom would dig up even more embarrassing stories about me. Some things I didn’t even remember, but no matter how much I questioned or protested, my mom just kept talking. That afternoon, I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles. As I walked Ryan out, watching him head to the parking lot, I was even prepared for him to break up with me. But as I turned to leave, Ryan took my hand and said: “No matter what your mom says, I only believe what I see.” “Our wedding will proceed as planned, don’t leave me.” My eyes suddenly stung. This was the first time someone had listened to my mother’s words and still chosen to believe in me.

After the holiday dinner ended badly, Ryan saw I was still upset, so he suggested we go on a road trip for a few days. We chose a nearby rural town. Compared to the city, it had a more festive atmosphere, and the food was fresh and delicious. Ryan and I had a great time there. Two days before the end of the holiday break, I suddenly received a FaceTime call from a distant relative, Aunt Carol. “Emma, where are you now?” “I’m out of town.” “Oh? So you really did run away and hide.” I was full of questions. “Hide from what?” After my question, Aunt Carol’s tone became anxious. “Emma, don’t try to hide it from us anymore. If you lost your job and have no income, you can tell us.” “We relatives can all chip in a little, and you’ll get by. Why on earth did you take out predatory online loans?” “Now, during the holidays, you’re hiding from creditors and can’t even go home.” Hearing Aunt Carol’s words, I nearly collapsed. I tried my best to explain, even screenshotting my employee ID from my work software to prove I still had a job and absolutely had not taken out any online loans. Seeing all the evidence I presented, Aunt Carol grudgingly believed me, but still urged me to call my mom right away. At that, my temper instantly flared. Sure enough, this ridiculous rumor had been spread by my mom again. Before I could even call her, my mom called me. “How can you embarrass me like that? Telling Carol you’re still working is basically telling everyone I’m talking nonsense, isn’t it?” I gripped the phone, a cold laugh escaping my lips. “And weren’t you talking nonsense?” “They just asked me where you were, and I didn’t know, so I just said whatever came to mind. How was I supposed to know they’d actually believe it?” “Is this my fault? Can I control what they think?” Listening to my mom’s self-righteous excuses, I sighed deeply. But my mom wasn’t done. “Besides, with the economy slowing down, who knows, you might lose your job any day now.” I could tolerate anything else my mom said, but this statement, I absolutely could not. Who could understand how many rounds of assessments I went through to secure my position at the company among so many interns? Gripping the phone, I said, my voice low and steady: “I’m not going to lose this job.” I don’t know if my tone was too cold, but my mom went silent on the other end. But after a few seconds, she suddenly sounded excited: “Don’t be so absolute. Believe it or not…” She was hopeless! I didn’t want to hear her rambling anymore, so I hung up the phone. But later events proved I shouldn’t have hung up. At least then I would have been somewhat prepared.

After our holiday break, Ryan and I both returned to our respective jobs. The morning rush hour on the first day back was exceptionally congested, and of course, I hit every red light. A trip that usually took half an hour to the office ended up taking almost fifty minutes today. Rushing into the office, I noticed everyone looking at me strangely. Just as I reached my cubicle, Mr. Harrison, my director, appeared in front of me: “Emma, can you come over here for a moment?” “What’s wrong?” Mr. Harrison’s gaze was unreadable. He said in a low voice: “Just come with me.” Before I even entered Mr. Harrison’s office, I heard my mom’s voice. A sense of foreboding instantly shot through me. Opening the door, I found my mom inside, as expected. Besides Mr. Harrison, several company executives were also there, and the atmosphere was suffocating. My mom saw me enter and pointed at me directly: “Even though you’re my daughter, since you’ve done something to betray the company, I have to expose you.” “What did I do?” “What did you do?” My mom said righteously: “Last night, you sent all of our company’s data to a competitor from your computer. I saw it all.” I gasped. As a financial professional, leaking company data was the gravest taboo. If the leaders actually believed her, I would be completely ruined. Sure enough, after hearing my mom’s words, all the executives’ eyes turned to me. I steadied my breath: “Last night, you weren’t even with me. Where did you see this?” “And which company data are you talking about? What’s the competitor’s name?” My mom was speechless for a moment, but then quickly replied, her voice loud and clear: “You’re the one who contacted them, how could you not know?” I looked her straight in the eye. “I want to hear you say it.” My mom’s eyes darted around. “If the leaders don’t believe me, they can check her computer. There must be records.” Mr. Harrison’s face was cold as he told me to open my computer. The data spreadsheet was right on my desktop. The last modification time was yesterday evening at 10:30 PM. Mr. Harrison’s glasses glinted coldly. “Why were you working on it so late?” “Because I thought it might be needed for a meeting on the first day back to work, so I just opened it to check before going to bed.” Mr. Harrison didn’t say anything, but he immediately revoked my access to the company system. “You’ll take a few days off first. We’ll let you know after the company has investigated everything thoroughly.” With that, Mr. Harrison turned and walked away, not saying another word to me. My mom grinned, looking smug. “Thought you had some amazing job, didn’t you? All I did was say a few words, and they told you to pack your bags and hit the road.” “And you were foolishly working overtime every day. Now you know, they didn’t care about you at all.” Intense anger brought tears to my eyes involuntarily. I challenged her: “Is this another one of your ‘jokes’? Do you know this could make me lose my job?” My mom shrugged indifferently. “So you lose your job. Just stay home and relax. What’s the big deal?” Fine. Since you love spreading rumors about me so much, I won’t keep your secrets anymore. When I got home, I pulled out a yellowed piece of paper. “Mom, does this look familiar?” Seeing the paper in my hand, my mom’s face instantly turned ashen.

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My husband Daniel and I adopted two girls. Just before their freshman orientation physicals, both were found to be pregnant. In front of the reporters’ cameras, they swore Daniel was the father. In my last life, we presented Daniel’s infertility diagnosis. It was dismissed as a forgery. This time, I will clear our names for good The violent pain in my chest felt like it was still lingering. Looking at the familiar furnishings around me, I was a little dazed. “Mom, the teacher said the school physicals are next Wednesday.” My older daughter, Skylar, spoke, and that’s when I knew I had been reborn. Reborn one week before the physicals. Because Daniel couldn’t have children, we adopted two daughters from the orphanage in our second year of marriage. Daniel and I cherished them, treating them like the apples of our eyes. In my previous life, during the Freshman Orientation Week physicals, both daughters were found to be pregnant. I was furious, pressing them about the father of the babies. With tears welling in their eyes, they swore they didn’t know. But then, they immediately went live on social media, accusing Daniel of rape and getting them pregnant. They even smeared Daniel and me, claiming we had peculiar fetishes and had adopted them only to satisfy our twisted desires. I produced Daniel’s infertility diagnosis report, hoping to prove our innocence. But the two daughters deliberately misled the online users, making everyone believe the report was fabricated. Even worse, extremists ambushed me on my way home from work and stabbed me to death. Since heaven had given me a second chance, I was determined to uncover the truth and clear Daniel’s and my names! I looked at the sisters, feigning concern. “Why do you both look so pale? Are you feeling unwell? Come on, let me take you to the doctor.” My younger daughter, Brianna, averted her gaze, a flicker of panic crossing her face. It was Skylar who responded calmly. “Brianna and I stayed up late studying last night. We’re just tired. We’ll be fine if we get some rest tonight. No need for all that trouble.” My gaze swept over their faces. At that moment, I was absolutely certain they already knew they were pregnant. And it also confirmed that the tragic fate Daniel and I met in my previous life was entirely their doing. “Alright then.” I frowned, piling all the rich, greasy stew from my plate onto theirs. “You’re at an age where you’re still growing; you need to eat more meat.” The oily, fatty meat shimmered with a sinister glow under the light. One after the other, they clapped their hands over their mouths and bolted for the bathroom. The sounds of retching echoed from inside. I waited by the door, a faint smile playing on my lips. A little while later, they pushed the door open, and I quickly swapped my expression for one of worry, rushing to meet them. “Why are you throwing up like this? Maybe we should still go to the doctor?” Skylar quickly waved her hand. “I just ate a little too much, Mom. It’s nothing.” “Yeah, Mom,” Brianna echoed. “Don’t worry about it.” “As long as you’re okay.” I sighed and began clearing the dishes from the table. “It’s getting late. Go study. I’ll clean up the leftovers.” After making sure both daughters were in their bedrooms, I pulled out my phone. I ordered a miniature camera. Marked for urgent delivery. I wanted to see what these two were really up to.

My twenty-dollar expedited shipping fee wasn’t wasted. The next morning, the package arrived at the door. Both daughters had already left for school. I installed cameras in the living room, the bathroom, and both of their bedrooms. Just as I finished, my phone rang. It was a text from Daniel. Just like in the previous life, he was attending a business gala and wouldn’t be home. I immediately texted both daughters. I told them Daniel and I would be working late and wouldn’t be home, so they should be careful. Then I hid out in a nearby hotel, quietly waiting for the fish to bite. At 9:30 PM, the two daughters arrived home promptly. After confirming Daniel and I weren’t home, they walked into the house and hugged each other tightly. But on the monitor, I clearly saw an organ that didn’t belong to a woman… I rewound the video a few seconds, staring intently. The moment I clearly saw it, I felt dizzy. How was this possible? How…how could this be! I barely slept a wink that night. The next morning, I stormed to the orphanage where we had adopted them. The old director from back then hadn’t retired yet and seemed genuinely pleased to see me, like an old friend reunited. But I had no time for pleasantries. I immediately recounted the entire story. The memory of being maliciously murdered over this incident in my previous life made me seethe with rage. I wanted nothing more than to tear the culprits to shreds. After listening to my accusations, Ms. Miller pulled out Skylar’s personal file from the cabinet. In the gender field, a large “F” for female was written. “This is a certificate issued by the local hospital. We would never make a mistake like that,” Ms. Miller stated confidently, her expression not looking like she was lying. Seeing this, I pulled out the surveillance footage, found that specific scene, and showed it to her. Ms. Miller was stunned after watching it. Her face instantly turned ashen, and she repeated “impossible” several times. “The evidence is conclusive. So where is my actual elder daughter?” “This… this is simply impossible!” Ms. Miller replayed the footage repeatedly. Then she took out a stack of photos from the archive box. “These are Skylar’s childhood pictures. She clearly exhibited female anatomy. How could she possibly have male genitalia?” Though the child in the photos still had a baby face, her features were unmistakable. The classic split-crotch pants for toddlers left nothing to the imagination. It wasn’t until a corner of the photo wrinkled in my grasp that I finally let go. “Did she have a twin brother or sister?” “No.” Ms. Miller shook her head emphatically. “I personally handled her adoption papers.” How strange… I sank back into thought. Leaving the orphanage, I walked down the street in a daze, nearly getting hit by a speeding car. It was a call from my best friend, Megan, that saved me from the jaws of death. “Just finished surgery, want to grab afternoon tea?” Hearing Megan’s cheerful voice, the stifled emotions I’d been holding finally found an outlet. “Okay.” At the coffee shop, Megan took a bite of tiramisu. “You’re saying Skylar is a guy? Are you out of your mind?” I slapped away her hand from my forehead and showed her the surveillance video. Megan watched the video over and over. Her expression grew increasingly solemn. “Things are a bit complicated. See if you can get me a blood sample from her.” “You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?” Megan nodded. “But I need proof.”

After parting ways with Megan, I turned into a nearby pharmacy. On the pretext of insomnia, I bought two boxes of diazepam. I ground them into powder and mixed them into the girls’ rice. The medication was potent; halfway through their meal, both of them successively retreated to their bedrooms. After confirming there was no movement behind their doors, I quietly pushed one open, blood collection tubes in hand. Carefully, I inserted the needle into Skylar’s arm. After drawing the blood, I put away the needle and prepared to leave. My gaze fell upon Brianna nearby. Seeing her still-not-showing belly, I redirected my steps. Two minutes later, I placed the tubes containing their blood into a pre-prepared sealed bag. I then went to the bathroom and also put Daniel’s toothbrush into the bag. After the delivery driver left with the package, I sent Megan a message. “And while you’re at it, please run a paternity test for me.” Megan messaged me back as soon as she received the package. “Got it. Results in a week.” Time quickly advanced to the day of the physicals. As usual, after smilingly sending the girls out, Daniel came forward to support me as I felt about to collapse. “You look terrible. Are you feeling unwell?” I waved him off, my gaze fixed on the wall clock. At 11:30 AM, my phone rang precisely. It was the homeroom teacher. “Is this Skylar and Brianna’s parent?” “Yes, it is.” “Well, during the Freshman Orientation Week physical today, the doctor found that both of your daughters are pregnant.” I calmly let out a breath. “I understand, Teacher. Where are the girls now?” “They’re already on their way home.” Seemingly afraid I might do something drastic, the teacher tried to console me for a few more moments before hanging up. “What happened? Why do you look so upset?” Daniel asked. I looked at him, my voice sharper than usual. “Today’s physicals. Your daughters tested positive for pregnancy.” “What?!” Daniel was shocked. “Which one?” “Both of them.” Daniel’s face instantly turned as black as thunder. I stared at him for a long moment but still couldn’t bring myself to tell him about being reborn. It was simply too unbelievable. I could only reassure him that what’s done is done, and I would talk to the girls properly when they returned. Just as I was speaking, the doorbell rang. The sisters appeared at the doorstep. Daniel’s eyes were almost spitting fire. I stepped forward to take their backpacks, my expression grim. “The teacher just called. She said you two are pregnant. What’s going on?” Brianna burst into tears. “Mom… I’m so sorry…” Skylar stepped forward, shielding Brianna behind her. “Mom, it’s already happened. Brianna is still young, please don’t blame her.” My gaze lingered on Skylar. I said coldly, “You’re right, it’s already happened. So, tell me, who are the fathers of the children?” Brianna blushed and glanced at Skylar. She shook her head, slightly shyly. Skylar bit her lower lip, refusing to speak. “Speak up!” Daniel, unaware of the full truth, paced anxiously. He wanted to break the necks of those brats who had messed with his daughters. No one spoke. I looked at these two faces, which had ruined Daniel and my lives in the previous life, my heart brimming with hatred. After a long pause, Skylar shook her head. “I… I don’t know…” I sighed, looking at Brianna with disappointment. “I… I don’t know either…” Daniel angrily kicked the wall. Having learned from my previous life, I didn’t press any further. I confiscated both of their electronic devices, citing their studies, and sent them back to their bedrooms to rest. Daniel’s face was pale with worry, and he asked me tremblingly what we should do. I looked at the empty chat window and reassured him. “Just wait a little longer.” Soon, they would reap what they had sown.

The next morning, when I opened my phone, my DMs suddenly showed “99+” unread messages. I clicked on them, surprised. Without exception, all of them were insults directed at Daniel and me. It turned out that last night, the two of them had used a hidden spare phone to start a live stream. They accused Daniel of raping them, leading to their pregnancies. I rushed to push open their bedroom door. But it was empty; not a soul was inside. The online abuse continued. “Worse than animals!” “Ever since the internet, I’ve seen everything but ghosts.” “Propose castration for all rapists!” “Scum! Should be shot!” “Men are only well-behaved when they’re hanging on a wall.” … After a night of fermentation, the incident’s popularity had climbed into the top three trending topics. And it was still rising. I quickly messaged Megan. “The results will take a little longer. I’m rushing them. Hang in there a bit.” The cold words felt like the blade that had pierced my chest in my previous life. Before I could even react, the next second, I received a message from Daniel. “Honey, I’ve been fired.” Just like in the previous life. Daniel’s company, after seeing the news online, immediately fired him regardless of the truth. Without even giving him a chance to explain. I could only, as in my previous life, pull out Daniel’s infertility diagnosis certificate to prove our innocence. “The sisters’ live stream already debunked it; this proof is fake.” “But poor woman, stuck with such an animal of a husband.” “Poor? My ass. The kids said it themselves, the whole thing was planned by both of them. This couple loves to pick little girls from orphanages…” “Like parent, like child.” “Sickos!” … The online abuse intensified, but Megan’s message still hadn’t come through. Just then, there was a knock at the door. I thought it was Daniel and quickly opened it. A bucket of blood-like liquid splashed across me. Several elderly neighbors, armed with brooms and feather dusters, furiously attacked me. “Slut! How dare you lay hands on such young kids!” “You inhuman monster!” “You damn animal! You’re lower than dirt!” “Heartless witch! Have you no conscience?!” … I didn’t bother trying to explain, desperately dodging. But the blows still landed on me, one after another. Someone grabbed my hair, pulling so hard I almost fainted from the pain. In the chaos, I heard a familiar voice. “Who are you people? If you don’t leave, I’m calling the cops!” The neighbors weren’t afraid of Daniel; instead, they became even more emboldened. “Go on, call them! We’ll see if the police arrest us or you!” “How can you lay hands on your own daughters? You’re truly heartless!” … As they spoke, they moved to strike again. Daniel pushed several people away with force, then quickly slammed the door shut. I was shaken. I clung to Daniel, sobbing uncontrollably. Finally, my phone rang. It was Megan’s report. The paternity test showed that the babies in their wombs had no blood relation to Daniel. It also confirmed that Skylar was the biological father of both children. I publicly posted the paternity test results. From a top hospital, black and white on paper. But the online users didn’t buy it. “Can’t you try harder with the Photoshop, hahahahahaha…” “Is this woman stupid? The biological father is a woman?” “To cover up their crimes, they’ll even make up such ridiculous lies.” “They said AI couldn’t replace humans, right?” … Someone had begun doxxing my personal information. immediately messaged Megan. “Are Skylar’s results ready?” The chat window stayed dark. The wall clock read 12:25 PM. In my previous life, at exactly 12:30 that day, two extremists had stormed our home and murdered Daniel and me. Watching the time on the screen tick down, my heart pounded faster and faster. Then, at 12:28 PM, Megan’s reply finally flashed on the screen. “The results are in! Just as I thought.”

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Finally, after bearing three of his children, I was permitted inside Julian Campbell’s mansion. But in this house, I was not Julian’s wife, nor the children’s mother. I was just a nanny, brought in to help. Julian placed the newborn in my arms. His voice was cold and distant. “You have three days. Leave when the regular nanny Martha returns.” “Do not tell Charlotte who you are. Do not make trouble for me.” “After these three days end, I’ll send you back to your villa outside the city.” “I will give you everything you want, except the title of Mrs. Campbell.” He was so sure, so certain I would compromise again, as before, for the children. But he did not know I had already bought my plane ticket to leave the country before coming here. I was only here to say goodbye. The baby in my arms, as if sensing my turmoil, began to whimper. Julian frowned, his eyes darting toward the master bedroom upstairs. “Keep the child quiet. Don’t disturb Charlotte.” As if on cue, Charlotte descended the stairs in a white dress, a child held firmly in each hand. Her delicate, pale face seemed to glow with an almost ethereal light. And in that instant, Julian’s entire demeanor softened. He slipped back into the role of the perfect husband, the doting father. He returned to the home that belonged only to him and Charlotte. He quickly went to her, pulling her frail body into his embrace. His voice was doting, yet laced with a hint of reproach. “It’s so cold out. Why are you barefoot?” “You’re so delicate; be careful not to catch a cold.” As he spoke, he naturally bent down, carefully slipping a pair of cashmere socks onto Charlotte’s feet. He was so reverent, so earnest, as if he were tending to an invaluable treasure. Charlotte was clearly accustomed to Julian’s doting care. She leaned into his embrace, her voice soft and sweet. “I just wanted to see you sooner.” “You’ve been gone for so many days. If I didn’t have Leo and Lily with me, I’d be so lonely…” Hearing this, Leo immediately puffed out his chest, his face beaming with pride. “I said I’d be Mom’s big hero!” “I’ll always stay by Mom’s side and never let her be sad!” Lily nodded along. “Me too!” “Dad, I even picked fresh flowers for Mom today. I’m even better than Leo!” The two children, one after another, crowded around Charlotte, showering her with affection and concern. What a heartwarming scene, what a wonderfully happy family of four. But it was me… I was their mother! My heart twisted painfully. Tears blurred my vision as I looked at Julian. But he ignored my tearful gaze, simply taking the baby from my arms and presenting her to Charlotte. Charlotte took the infant with practiced ease, smiling. “What a darling baby. Have you decided on a name?” “How about we call her Ava?” Faced with Charlotte’s suggestion, Julian gave his consent without a moment’s hesitation. He immediately nodded, instructing his assistant to change the baby’s name. I instinctively reached out to stop him, my voice urgent. “Julian, you promised me…” When I gave birth to this child, I suffered a severe hemorrhage and was forced to have a hysterectomy, losing my ability to bear children forever. I pleaded with Julian, begging him to let me keep this last child by my side. But he looked at me with cold indifference and said, “Amelia, don’t be childish.” “The Campbell bloodline cannot be left outside the family.” “However, considering all you’ve been through, I can allow you to name this child as a keepsake.” That fleeting moment of tenderness, hard-won after almost dying, was now being casually erased by a single sentence from Charlotte. I looked at Julian, unwilling to accept it. My eyes welled up, tears threatening to spill. Julian noticed my distress. But he merely frowned slightly, quickly averting his gaze. “Charlotte, this is Martha’s niece. Martha is sick, so she’s filling in for three days.” “If you don’t like her, I can have her sent away right now.” “She’ll never appear before you or the children again, ever.” That statement was an open threat, bare and brutal. I bit my lower lip, desperately trying not to cry aloud. But the wrenching pain in my heart only intensified. Years of accumulated grievances surged over me all at once.

During my college years, I met Julian, who was giving a guest lecture at our university. He fell in love with me at first sight, pursuing me relentlessly. Designer jewelry, expensive bags, luxurious accessories. Everything I’d once only dreamed of was suddenly showered upon me. Everyone said our backgrounds were worlds apart, that Julian was just playing games. But he proved his love with every little action. He’d light up the entire city with fireworks just because I said I liked them. He’d climb thirty flights of stairs to bring me late-night snacks just because I mumbled I was hungry. He was so meticulous, so thoughtful, planning every detail for me. From big life decisions to the smallest thing, like what I ate and drank. I completely succumbed to his charm. Our passion burned fiercely, and soon, we were expecting our first child. Unlike the playboys who would simply vanish, he carefully chose a premier maternity clinic for me and began planning our wedding. Everything was set until the wedding day, when he suddenly stopped me. “Amelia, I’m already married.” Before the shock could settle, Julian laid a marriage certificate before me. His voice was gentle, yet it left no room for argument. “The title you want, I cannot give you. But I will cover all your mother’s medical expenses.” Julian explained that as the sole heir to the formidable Campbell legacy, he had long been married. His wife, Charlotte, came from a family of equal standing-a fragile beauty with a chronic condition. While she could not produce an heir for the Campbells, her family brought indispensable business alliances. Divorce was not an option. “Charlotte understands the rules of our world. She will not interfere with our…arrangement.” “I need you to bear healthy children for the Campbell family, for us.” “Beyond that, you two will live entirely separate lives, never crossing paths.” As he spoke, Julian placed a platinum card in front of me. He analyzed everything about me as if I were a commodity. “I’ve checked your background. You’re from the West Coast, no hereditary family illnesses.” “Your height, weight, education, appearance-all meet my requirements.” “Your mother’s in the hospital after a car accident; you desperately need money.” “This is a shrewd bargain for you.” “Of course, you can refuse.” “But understand this: in this city, no one dares cross the Campbells. Leave me, and you’ll find no job, no partner, no one to pay your mother’s medical bills.” His words abruptly jolted me awake from my dream. It was then I realized Julian’s feelings for me were never love. He cared for my every need, planned my future. In countless nights, he intimately ‘measured’ my body-all just to pick the perfect vessel for himself, for Charlotte. He blocked every escape route, forcing me to make that humiliating choice. That night, I cried myself almost unconscious. In the end, I signed my name on that contract, which felt more like a bill of sale. My love for my mother became my reason to compromise. It also became the cage that trapped me. From that day on, I became Julian’s mistress, the woman he kept hidden away. A nameless, unrecognized tool for bearing children.

Five years. Three children. It drained my health and utterly crushed my dignity. If this last, agonizing childbirth hadn’t rendered me unable to have more children, if it hadn’t stripped me of my ‘reproductive value,’ I imagine this nightmare would have continued endlessly. A dense, suffocating pain spread through my heart. Yet, the perpetrator had long since swaggered away. Charlotte’s gaze towards me grew increasingly contemptuous. She poked the soft flesh around my waist with her finger and sneered. “So you’re the mistress Julian keeps outside? You’re not even that pretty. It must have been a real sacrifice for him, to ‘branch out’ and stoop to someone like you.” “You probably don’t know, but Julian and I aren’t just bound by family alliances; we’re childhood sweethearts.” “His love for me is something no other woman can ever replace.” I believed her, of course. All these years with Julian, Charlotte always came first. Even when we were intimate. Even when I was in labor, hovering between life and death. A single phone call from Charlotte, and he would rush back to the main house. He would spend a fortune to make me happy. He would also use his actions and the disdain in his eyes to remind me to remember my place. But honestly, Julian’s reminders and Charlotte’s precautions were all unnecessary. The moment Julian presented that contract, the moment he trampled my dignity, any love or lingering affection I had for him vanished. I stayed by his side only for my mother’s medical expenses. And for the chance to see these children again. Now, my mother was gone. And I finally understood: no matter what I did, no matter how much I bowed my head and compromised, these children would never truly be mine. Since that was the case, it was better to leave now, taking with me what little dignity I had left. I managed a polite, strained smile for Charlotte and spoke slowly. “Mrs. Campbell, you’re overthinking it.” “I’m just a nanny brought in to help. There’s no other relationship between Mr. Campbell and me.” During these last three days, I wanted to avoid any more trouble. But my concession only led to Charlotte’s escalation. She slapped me, hard, across the face, her voice spitting fire. “What are you? How dare you look at me like that?” “I should have let you die on that operating table!” Charlotte, who moments ago seemed too delicate to fend for herself, was now utterly vicious. She threw a report at my face, a cold laugh escaping her lips. “You think Julian bringing you into the Campbell house means he acknowledges your status?” “Dream on! There will only ever be one lady of this house, and that’s me!” “He keeps you around simply because your blood type matches mine.” “In case anything happens to me, your blood can save my life!” “Believe me, I could have you killed with a single word!” The sharp edge of the paper cut my eye, leaving me stunned and disbelieving. How could a man be as heartless as Julian? He took my children, destroyed my body. Now, he wanted to turn me into a tool to prolong his wife’s life! The difference between being loved and not loved was truly staggering. My long-suppressed emotions completely shattered. Large tears streamed down my face. I was about to confront Julian when Charlotte suddenly rose, stumbling backwards into a nearby bench.

The cut wasn’t deep, just a scraped patch of skin. But the sudden commotion still alerted everyone in the mansion. Julian rushed over, only to see Charlotte, beautiful and tear-streaked like a wilting flower, and me, my heart cold as ash. Charlotte collapsed like a willow branch, her tearful eyes fixed on Julian. “Amelia, Amelia, why does she hate me so much? What did I do wrong?” Seeing the tears on Charlotte’s face, Julian’s heart broke instantly. He had no logic left, no desire to discern right from wrong. He immediately turned to me, his voice sharp with accusation. “Amelia, I know you harbor resentment.” “If you have grievances, take them out on me directly. Why attack Charlotte?” “You’ve been spoiled rotten by me, haven’t you? If anything happens to Charlotte, I swear I won’t let you get away with it!” There was no trace of affection left in his eyes for me. Only undisguised disgust and fury. Leo and Lily also stood defensively in front of Charlotte, glaring at me, their faces contorted with anger. Looking at the menacing group before me. Looking at Charlotte, who was triumphantly flaunting her claim, eager to assert her dominion. I suddenly lost all energy to defend myself. What was there to say? Who would even believe me? Julian wouldn’t believe me. To him, I was just a vessel for bearing children. A woman who could be paid off and dismissed. Leo and Lily wouldn’t believe me either. To them, I was just a stranger they’d never met. A horrible person who was bullying their mother. From the moment I fell for Julian, I was doomed to lose everything. From the moment I stepped into this villa, I was just setting myself up for humiliation. Countless tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I had no strength to argue, no strength left for hatred. All I wanted was to leave. And quickly. To end this farce, I snatched the fruit knife from the table and slashed it across my own arm. Once. Twice. Three times… Until my entire arm was covered in blood. Until the last remnants of feeling in my heart bled out. I lifted my head, my gaze meeting Julian’s with numb exhaustion. “Ten times over, are you satisfied now?” My sudden actions terrified everyone present. Charlotte recoiled into Julian’s embrace, coldly uttering two words. “Psycho.” Then, she turned her head, half-coaxing, half-commanding. “Julian, make her leave.” “How can a psycho like her take care of our children?” “I don’t care if I’m hurt, but I absolutely won’t let our children be in danger!” The scene erupted into complete chaos. Julian finally lost his temper, roaring at me. “Amelia, what the hell are you doing?!” “Before you showed up, we were perfectly happy in this home.” “If I’d known this, I never would have been soft-hearted enough to bring you back!” Hearing his words, Leo and Lily no longer held back. They started hitting me, muttering fiercely. “Don’t you dare bully our mom!” “Bad lady! Bad lady! Go away!” The children’s blows were weak, but each one struck deep into my heart. It hurt more than any blade to the flesh, more than the agony of childbirth. I stared blankly at these two children, my own flesh and blood, and shook my head helplessly. How foolish. If Julian, after five years, did not love me… How could these children, whom I had only just met, hold any lingering affection for me? They would only ever know Charlotte as their mother. I looked down at the infant in my arms, crying uncontrollably. She was not even a year old; she could do nothing but cry. But when she grew, she too would call Charlotte “Mom.” She too would learn to hate me, to despise me, just like Leo and Lily. She too would scorn my origins, just like Julian. After all, in this house, I was nothing. Tears and blood mingled on my skin. I couldn’t see the path ahead, nor the faces from my past with any clarity. I drew a deep breath, etching the images of these three children into my heart. Then I forced a pale, hollow smile and spoke softly. “Julian, don’t worry.” “I’ll never bother you again.” Never again would I disrupt your perfect family. Leaves fell, borne away by the wind. The world around me seemed to wither. II took one last look at Julian, then turned my back and walked straight into the desolate winter awaiting me.

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After two decades with Julian, pulling him from the abyss to the absolute peak, a voice in my head, the System, suddenly asked. “He cut down your peach tree for his new lover. Do you regret it?” He no longer loved me. There was no point in holding on. With a bitter smile, I nodded, ready to leave this world completely. But after I vanished, Julian lost his mind, searching the entire city for me. He even followed me to my real world, his eyes bloodshot, pleading. “Please, come home with me.” My new husband stepped forward, tossing the engagement ring Julian offered into the trash. “She is married to me now. Please leave.” Scarlett’s POV The moment the peach tree in the backyard was cut down, I knew my time in this world was nearly over. “Wow, Mr. Thorne! You actually cleared a whole plot for me! Thank you so much, now I can grow vegetables for you!” Julian stood in the yard, his voice gentle. “Whatever makes you happy.” I watched them from the balcony, a silent observer behind glass. It was as if that man wasn’t my husband, and that girl had no connection to me. “Hello, long time no see.” The familiar electronic voice of the System echoed in my mind. I took a sip of my coffee. “You don’t seem surprised at all.” “The peach tree was destroyed. Of course, you’d show up.” My voice was calm. “When do I leave this world?” “You’ve stayed too long after your mission ended, forming too many ties with this world. You can’t detach the instant your soul host disappears. It will take at least two weeks.” “Okay.” The System was silent for a moment, as if calculating. “Ten years ago, you chose to stay, anchoring your soul to an object in this world. Now you’ve watched your host object be destroyed, watched your husband’s devotion shift to another woman…Do you feel no regret?” I looked down at the coffee in my mug, lost in thought. I was only sixteen when I first arrived in this world. Back then, Julian was shunned and despised for the scandal of his birth. Almost overnight, he went from a bright student to a branded ‘homewrecker’s son.” At school, he was isolated and bullied. His mother’s small business, their sole livelihood, was maliciously ruined. The relentless accusations broke his mother first. She fell from a great height and ended her life. Then it was his turn. Friends slowly drifted away, teachers chose to avoid him. The once outgoing boy gradually closed himself off, letting the cold stares and malice wash over him. When he was about to lose all will to live, I stood by his side. During that time, I did so much. I slowly pulled him out of that dark abyss. Later, his biological father appeared. Julian refused to accept this sudden presence in his life. He couldn’t forgive that man for destroying his once peaceful life, nor could he forgive his mother’s death. The man left him with a threat- If Julian didn’t return to that family, his path forward would be incredibly difficult. In the days that followed, we endured pressure from all sides. Countless sleepless nights, endless doubts, and sneers. Eventually, he stood firm on his own, making a name for himself in the industry. Ten years ago, his company went public. My mission was completed that day. According to the rules, I had to leave this world after the mission was done. Unless I chose to anchor my soul to an object- If the object lived, I lived; if the object was destroyed, I left. We had been through too much together. Those memories ran too deep; I couldn’t bear to leave. So, I stayed, even though I knew it meant immense risk. “Hello?” I snapped back to reality, looking at the man in the yard who was intently listening to the girl talk. “I never regret the decisions I’ve made.” “Aren’t you sad?” I didn’t answer. A knock sounded at the door. It was Julian. He walked up beside me, looking at the busy figure in the yard. I shifted my gaze, my chest tightening. How could I not be sad? He was the man I had poured my entire heart into loving. “Scarlett, don’t you think Stella is a lot like you back then? Passionate, lively, full of life.” I knew very well that nostalgia was just an excuse. The real reason was that he had changed. I wiped away the dampness from the corner of my eye, adjusting my breathing. “Do you remember what I told you when we planted that tree?” “You said I should take care of it as if I were taking care of you.” He had taken care of that tree for ten years. But he couldn’t resist someone who had only been in his life for a few months. I looked at him, not speaking, but he already understood what I wanted to ask. “Out with the old, in with the new, right?” I forced a smile, laced with a touch of bitterness. I really wanted to ask- Did “the old” he spoke of include me too? I also really wanted to tell him that I would be leaving soon. But in the end, I said nothing. Perhaps it was because I already understood that the passion in our relationship had long since faded. Maybe he hadn’t completely fallen out of love, but he was no longer the man who looked at only me with his whole heart. If that was the case, what was there to say?

Scarlett’s POV “Ms. Thorne, I heard that tree was planted by you and Julian, a symbol of your love.” Stella fiddled with the hem of her shirt, looking cautiously at me. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know how important that tree was before. By the time I found out, it was too late to save it.” “I made you a dessert with its petals, and I even started brewing wine. I know it can’t make up for anything, but I just hope you’ll feel a little less regret.” I took a few bites of the petal dessert. “It’s delicious, thank you for putting so much thought into preserving it for me. But I probably won’t get to drink that wine.” I didn’t have much time left in this world; I wouldn’t be here to see the wine finish brewing. My calmness seemed to panic Stella. The destruction of the tree should have provoked anger. “It’s all my fault… If you’re angry, please punish me. Whether it’s a fine or making me do extra work, anything.” Her voice grew softer and softer, her eyes turning red, tears streaming down her face. I raised my hand, intending to comfort her, but I didn’t know what to say. In that hesitant moment, hurried footsteps approached, and my hand, suspended in mid-air, was swatted away. Julian steadied Stella by the shoulders, turning her around, and looked down at her red-rimmed eyes. “Did she bully you?” The “she” he referred to was obvious. My outstretched hand felt utterly superfluous. Stella tried to explain, but her crying was too frantic for coherent words. It was the first time I’d seen Julian look at me like that. “Scarlett, do you have to be like this?” I withdrew my hand, speaking softly. “I didn’t do anything.” “You did nothing, and she’s crying like this?” “I’m the one who had the tree cut down. If you’re upset, take it out on me, don’t pick on a young girl.” “Julian, I’m telling you one last time, I didn’t do anything.” He looked at me, his voice growing colder. “Scarlett, that incident was an accident, Stella is a victim too. Can’t we all just get along? Do you have to make a scene?” Six months ago, he was set up, given something he shouldn’t have consumed. He barely made it back to the mansion before losing control and sleeping with Stella. That incident might have been an accident. But everything that happened afterward wasn’t. I watched him change little by little, watched him start prioritizing another woman’s feelings over mine. It felt like being slowly, clearly cut by a dull knife, over and over again. I had retreated to a point where I just wanted us to stay out of each other’s way. “There are security cameras in the house,” I said. “If you don’t believe me, you can check them yourself.” Stella, beside him, tugged at his sleeve anxiously, shaking her head softly. “No… it’s really not like that.” “You don’t need to speak for her.” Julian lifted his hand, wiping away the tears from her eyes, his voice softening. “I’m here. No one will ever hurt you.” With that, he took Stella’s hand and walked away without looking back. I stood there, watching their retreating figures, feeling a sudden sense of disorientation. I had heard those words before. Back then, he was being crushed by his family’s influence. I finally managed to contact an investor who was willing to help. When I arrived at the agreed meeting place, I found the table covered with high-proof whiskey. I didn’t want his efforts to be in vain, so I drank glass after glass. He arrived and immediately smashed a whiskey bottle over the head of the man who tried to touch me, holding me tightly in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Scarlett. I was useless, I couldn’t protect you.” That six-foot-three man, who hadn’t cried when he was ostracized in high school, hadn’t cried when he was disowned by his family, hadn’t cried when he was severely injured and hospitalized. But he held me and cried uncontrollably. “I’ll get stronger,” he said. “With me here, no one will ever hurt you again.” He had kept his word, protecting me fiercely. I just never imagined that many years later, the one who would hurt me again, would be him. At that moment, the System in my head spoke: “Confirmed departure in ten days. I will appear in ten days to open the portal for you.” “Okay.”

Scarlett’s POV Julian didn’t come home for several days, and Stella wasn’t there either. I knew he was giving me the silent treatment. In the past, if he disappeared for two days, I would inevitably give in, making excuses for him, covering for him, even proactively backing down and taking all the blame myself. But this time, I didn’t. I just quietly started packing up my things around the house. Mrs. Davies, the housekeeper, stood by, hesitant. “Ma’am, these are all gifts from Julian. Are you really getting rid of all of them?” I lowered my eyes, looking at the gift boxes laid out on the floor. When I first opened them, my heart had indeed been filled with anticipation and joy. But now, only emptiness remained. “Get rid of them,” I said. “Keep the money and give it to the children I sponsor.” Anyway, I was leaving soon; these things had no more meaning to me. After handing the last box of luxury items to Mrs. Davies, I picked up the charity auction invitation and drove out, planning to spend all the remaining money on my card. I just hadn’t expected to see Julian there. Stella, holding up her dress, ran ahead, full of fresh curiosity about everything. Julian followed behind her, constantly keeping an eye on her movements. The moment our eyes met, I saw a fleeting look of displeasure in his. “What are you doing here?” Before I could even speak, I was surrounded by people. “Mr. Thorne and his wife are here for charity again!” “Mrs. Thorne, you’re so lucky to have such a thoughtful husband…” These kinds of pleasantries were unavoidable at such events. He used to enjoy hearing them, and whenever people complimented our relationship, he always played along. But this time, his expression visibly hardened. “There’s no need for such talk today.” “Besides, she’s not my companion.” As soon as he said that, he walked away, searching for Stella in the crowd. Upon seeing her stumble outside the crowd, he quickly moved to scoop her up in his arms, his eyes filled with tender concern. The petite woman nestled in the man’s broad embrace-a beautiful scene that drew everyone’s gaze. After Julian left, the crowd’s bewildered eyes turned to me. I quickly composed myself, but I could still feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere. “Mrs. Thorne… well then, we won’t disturb you.” They politely dispersed, leaving me standing there alone. I looked in the direction Julian had left. In a corner of the hall, he was half-crouching, head bowed, carefully examining Stella’s ankle, his movements patient and focused. Soon, hushed whispers began to rise. “I’ve never seen Mr. Thorne with another woman before.” “Even his staff used to be almost exclusively male.” “Who is that girl? Has something gone wrong with their relationship?” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look away. I straightened my back, put on a standard, controlled smile, found the seat with my name on it, and tried hard not to listen to those voices. For the next few hours, Julian bid again and again, securing expensive auction items for Stella. The smile on my face slowly faded. Until finally, he bid for a high-priced gem ring, a symbol of eternal love. Under the envious gazes of the crowd, he personally slipped it onto Stella’s finger. In that moment, I finally couldn’t hold on anymore. My chest felt as if something heavy was crushing it, making it hard to breathe. I stood up, didn’t spare them another glance, and turned to leave my seat, practically fleeing the venue.

Scarlett’s POV In the restroom, the host’s teasing voice filtered through the speakers. I looked at myself in the mirror, my chest tightening with each passing moment. Eight years ago, Julian’s status was unmatched. Countless people tried to send women his way. In their eyes, in that world of gilded extravagance, a wife like me-without a powerful background, who had merely stood by him through thick and thin-would eventually be cast aside. Some even secretly bet on when he would abandon me. Julian was furious when he found out. He projected our wedding photos onto the city’s most prominent screens, openly recounting our love story in public interviews. He bought priceless gems at multiple auctions and visited top jewelry designers several times, all just to design a unique ring for me. His extravagant actions, regardless of cost, caused a sensation throughout elite circles. Everyone said I was incredibly lucky. And now, the scene outside mirrored eight years ago. Only this time, Julian wasn’t doing it for me. I had no interest in watching any further. I straightened myself up, ready to leave. Just as I stepped out, a gunshot suddenly shattered the air, followed by ear-splitting screams and chaotic footsteps. Someone crashed into me, and the next second, my wrist was gripped tightly. I was yanked, stumbled a few steps, and pulled into a restroom stall. Stella’s face was pale with terror, her hand trembling as she clung to mine. “How… how could someone have a gun…?” Julian subtly moved her hand from my wrist, taking it into his own palm. He softly reassured her. “Don’t be scared, I won’t let anything happen to you.” I looked at the two of them, tightly huddled together. The bitterness I had managed to suppress earlier surged back. In this cramped space, I, his legal wife, seemed to cease to exist. The shouts of the perpetrators outside came in fits and starts. I knew very well that we couldn’t hide here forever; we had to find a way to leave. I stepped onto the toilet seat, reaching up to test the small window on the side wall. The window shifted slightly. “It moves, we can get out this way.” Julian followed my movements with his eyes. Just then, a command rang out from outside: “Search. Bring everyone alive in the hall to the main lobby.” Footsteps began closing in on the restroom. The air instantly grew taut. I had just lifted my foot when I was suddenly pulled down. “Let Stella go first.” I lost my footing, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle. But the pain of that moment was nothing compared to the sting of his words. I looked at Julian. He didn’t even glance at me, instead, he simply hoisted Stella onto his shoulder, shielding her as they went through the small window. Once Stella was safely out, he immediately restored the window to its original position. In that moment, I finally realized that from the very beginning, he had never intended for me to leave. My eyes burned. Even though I understood the answer, I still wanted to hear him say it. I took a deep breath, but my voice trembled uncontrollably. “Why send her, and not me?” Julian lowered his eyes. “She’s younger.” “Besides, you’ve been with me through so much over the years. You can handle situations like this better than she can.” “Then why couldn’t we both go?” The attackers hadn’t reached here yet. There was plenty of time to get both of us out. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for a man like me to hide in the women’s restroom, so…” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. So, in Julian’s eyes, I was just a convenient target to be left behind. The two decades I’d spent with him felt like a ridiculous joke.

Scarlett’s POV Unfortunately, I was chosen as a hostage along with four other women. Two captors guarded each woman, blades pressed to our necks, cold gun muzzles at our temples. We became bargaining chips. Everyone else in the venue had been evacuated, Julian among them. My gaze pierced through the crowd, clearly seeing him pull a distraught Stella into his arms, softly comforting her, then turning to leave without a backward glance. In that moment, my heart plummeted completely. The five of us were forced into a car, which sped off toward the remote outskirts. Then, a black cloth was thrown over my head, and I quickly lost consciousness. When I next opened my eyes, I was in an abandoned factory on the city’s outskirts. The police found us two days later. With them were the families of some of the other hostages. I scanned the crowd, but Julian was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t help but scoff at myself. Even now, I was clinging to a sliver of hope for him. I watched the other women collapse into their loved ones’ arms, sobbing. I watched them release all the terror and breakdown of the past days. I watched them being held close, soothed and reassured. To say I wasn’t envious would have been a lie. “Ms. Thorne?” A police officer, whose face seemed vaguely familiar, crouched down in front of me. He looked around, a clear flicker of surprise in his expression. “Mr. Thorne didn’t come?” I recognized him. He had been among the officers who responded when Julian’s enemies had kidnapped me before. “That’s not right, we notified him.” He scratched his head, a little confused. “Last time you were kidnapped, Mr. Thorne was so frantic, he got stabbed in the chest but wouldn’t leave, insisting on exchanging himself for you. This time, how could he-” My disappointment was palpable. Yes, the old Julian would rather exchange his life for mine. This time, though, he was the one who had left me in danger with his own hands. I didn’t speak. The officer sensed something was wrong and quickly changed the subject, asking the standard questions, then handed me a cup of water. “If no one comes to pick you up, you can ride with me later. I’ll take you to the hospital. You look like the most injured one here, you need proper care.” “Thank you.” At the hospital, the nurse frowned immediately when she saw my injuries. A deep gash on my neck, numerous glass shards embedded in my calf, and a badly swollen ankle. “Where’s your family? You can’t walk properly on this foot right now.” “It’s okay, I’ll just borrow a wheelchair.” After my wounds were treated, I slowly wheeled myself out of the ward. In the hallway, I heard a familiar voice. Following the sound, I saw Julian carefully supporting Stella, shielding her from bumping into anyone, his voice laced with anxiety. “Didn’t I tell you to rest well during this time? Let someone else handle these things. You just wouldn’t listen, and now you’ve fallen.” “You’re exaggerating. It was such a thick carpet, it’s not that serious.” “No, we still need a full check-up. I won’t feel at ease otherwise.” I curled my lips, a bitter taste filling my mouth. She had merely stumbled, and he was this worried. Yet, until now, he hadn’t thought to ask- If I had been safely rescued, if I was injured. I didn’t watch any longer. I turned my wheelchair and rolled past them, heading toward the elevator alone. Their voices followed me. “Oh, and Mr. Thorne, you should still ask the police about Mrs. Thorne’s condition. It’s all because of me that she was in danger, I’m very worried.” “Okay.” “And that day, Mrs. Thorne really didn’t bully me. She just said she wouldn’t get to drink my wine in the future, and I felt so guilty that I cried.” I didn’t look back.

Scarlett’s POV I sat in my wheelchair, watching my belongings being moved out one by one, piled haphazardly in the staff quarters. I felt utterly paralyzed. Mrs. Davies, who had been our housekeeper for nearly a decade, stood by, her hands twisting together. After a long, hesitant pause, she finally spoke. “Ma’am, Julian said… Stella’s had a shock and isn’t well. She needs the sunniest room for a while. He asked us to pack your things…” Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, eventually barely daring to look at me. I just sat there silently, my face devoid of expression. “I tidied up the best guest room yesterday. I can help you move your things there.” I shook my head. “No, this is fine.” Anyway, I only had five days left. No matter how grand the room, it was just a temporary place for me. Seeing Mrs. Davies’s slightly red eyes, I comforted her softly: “It’s okay, it’s convenient for me to be on the first floor since I can’t move around easily right now.” Julian, who had just walked in, heard my words and came over to me, looking at my bandaged arm and leg. I didn’t look up to meet his gaze. He spoke, his voice tinged with blame. “Why didn’t you say anything when you got back? Stella couldn’t eat because she was worried about you.” I explained. “My phone was smashed by the attackers, and the police probably contacted you, but you were too busy to notice.” He was silent, and I didn’t give him any more opportunities to speak. In that brief silence, I had lost all interest in staying there. I simply turned my wheelchair and went into the room myself. I tried to stand up from the wheelchair, to lean against the bed. But my legs gave out, and my body tilted forward. The next second, I fell heavily to the floor. The pain came quickly. I gritted my teeth, propping myself up with my hands against the edge of the bed, trying to slowly stand, but I couldn’t find my balance. Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open. “Scarlett!” As I fell into his arms, I felt a strange sense of disorientation. It had been so long since I’d been this close to anyone. He gently placed me on the bed, his voice finally losing its hardness, even taking on a rare, pleading softness: “Scarlett, I’m so sorry, I wronged you. Please give me one year, okay? In one year, I promise I’ll come back to our family and be your model husband again.” I looked at the ceiling, my emotions flat. I said calmly, “Okay.” He said, “Get some rest. I’ll go out now.” After the door closed, I vaguely heard Stella’s soft voice outside. “Mrs. Thorne isn’t mad at me, is she?” Julian replied, “No, don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer.” I closed my eyes, pulled the covers over my head, and forced myself to sleep. Time slipped away. I had only one day left in this world. Mrs. Davies wheeled me to the backyard for sun, thoughtfully bringing a stack of books. Slipped between them was a photo album. I opened it to Julian’s younger face. Us standing side-by-side at high school graduation. Us walking across the university campus. Us holding each other for warmth in our first cramped apartment. Us working through the night after the company launched. Us toasting the IPO. Us cutting the cake on my birthday… Every smiling face in those photos was real. My vision blurred, a tear spreading on the photo paper. The next instant, a large hand gripped my neck, and my breath gradually grew ragged.

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