After the car crash, I lay bleeding on the hospital bed. But my father? He just said, “No money!” I was used to it. My parents only ever saw my brother. Just then, a wealthy couple entered my hospital room. They said I was their daughter, swapped at birth. I asked them, “Will you pay for my surgery? Will you pay for my college tuition?” After they confirmed, I immediately said, “Thank you, Mom, Dad!” I didn’t care if they genuinely loved me, nor did I ask what would happen to Summer, the fake heiress. All I knew was I had to live well. I’d use them as my stepping stones to claw my way to the top. The surgery went smoothly. I was moved to an exclusive VIP suite for post-op observation and recovery. These were the most comfortable and peaceful days I’d had in my life, or at least as far back as I could remember. It was in that room that I learned my biological father was Arthur Sterling, chairman of the renowned Sterling Industries, and my mother was Evelyn Sterling, the heiress of Summit Electronics. Turns out, just two months ago, I was working as a part-time usher at Sterling Industries, unknowingly earning money from my own family. What was the theme of that gala, again? Oh, I remember now. It was to celebrate Sterling Industries’ only daughter’s eighteenth birthday. As an usher working outside, I wasn’t even allowed inside the main hall, shivering in the cold. Since Grandpa died, no one had ever remembered my birthday, let alone thrown a coming-of-age party. Hungry, I peered through a small gap, watching the lavish party inside, overflowing with congratulations and warmth. At that moment, I remember thinking, Look at her, showered with adoration, while I, like a rat in a gutter, secretly watched the princess’s joy. A world of difference. That day was also my own forgotten eighteenth birthday. That night, when I returned home, I was met with: “Where the hell have you been gallivanting? Don’t you know it’s time to cook dinner?” “Your brother has big tests coming up. What if he gets hungry?” “We should have given you away the moment you were born. One less mouth to feed.” I scoffed internally. They probably couldn’t bring themselves to ‘give me away’ back then, could they? When I was born, our old neighborhood was being redeveloped, and they only kept me because an extra kid meant a bigger payout. And if Grandpa hadn’t insisted on my name, Willow, they would have just called me ‘the mistake’ or something even more demeaning. But I never spoke up to argue. I knew that would only make them angrier. My adoptive father would get physical. I’d get beaten. That was a lesson I’d learned over years. Stay silent, quietly do what I was told, and it would pass. My only hope back then was to get into a university far, far away. A gentle knock sounded. My biological parents walked in, followed by a tall, handsome young man in a sharp suit. “Willow, this is your brother. We’ve come to take you home.” Just as I suspected. This was Leo Sterling, the heir to Sterling Industries. I’d heard for ages that this heir absolutely doted on his only sister, giving her the moon and stars if she asked. Of course, that sister wasn’t me. He strode over to me, his face slightly stiff, his warm tone betraying a hint of awkwardness. “Willow, I’m your brother.” I looked up, offering a small smile, and softly said, “Hey, Leo.” When I was bullied at school, seeing other boys protect their younger siblings, I used to wish I had a brother. Leo froze for a split second when I said his name, then his expression softened. “Mom, Dad, and I talked it over,” he began, “and we think it’s best to pay your adoptive parents a visit.” “We investigated what happened that day; it was an accident.” “They did raise you for so long, after all. And then there’s Summer… she’s still overseas…” I watched them. Their faces held guilt, and their eyes, when they met mine, darted away, yet also held a trace of affection. Banking on that affection, I tentatively spoke, “They weren’t good to me…” “Willow.” I hadn’t even finished my sentence when Leo cut me off. “From what I found, your adoptive family isn’t exactly impoverished. They raised you for eighteen years; you should be grateful.” I glanced at my parents behind him. Their expressions seemed to convey mild disapproval of Leo’s words, but they didn’t contradict him. I fell silent. Turns out, that affection wasn’t solely for me. Much of it was for the daughter they’d adored for eighteen years. They’d judged me, assuming I was some gold-digger, based on an unfinished sentence. Fine. “Okay. Let’s go now.”

They looked at me in surprise as I swung my legs off the bed, my bandaged left arm protesting slightly, and headed for the door. If their love wasn’t exclusively mine, then I’d make them fill that void with guilt. When we arrived at the Millers’ place, it was lunchtime. I used my key to open the door and went in first. The three of them were sitting there, casually eating steak. They paused for a second at my sudden entrance, then went back to their meal as if nothing had happened. “Oh, you’re back. Go wash the laundry in the bathroom.” “Mom, I told you Willow always finds a way. See? She got out of the hospital just fine, even without us paying a dime.” “That little tramp! Never home. Who knows how she’s making her money? Probably doing something dirty.” I stood rooted to the spot, a look of wide-eyed fear spreading across my face, shrinking back as if terrified. My adoptive father saw me standing still and his face darkened. “What are you standing around for? Didn’t you hear your mother tell you to do the laundry?” I nervously raised my bandaged arm slightly, my voice small and trembling. “I… I just got out of the hospital. My injury isn’t healed. I can’t handwash. Can I use the washing machine?” No sooner had I finished than Brenda’s sharp voice cut in. “Does the washing machine run for free? Don’t you have another hand?” “I…” Seeing I was about to protest again, my adoptive father’s infamous temper flared. He slammed his empty plate down, and with Brenda and Kevin’s eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction, he started walking toward me. He raised his hand to strike. I swiftly crouched down, covering my head, muttering repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk back.” “I won’t do it again, Dad, please don’t hit me. Please don’t hit me. I’ll go wash the clothes right away, by hand.” As expected, the blow never landed. Leo, who had followed me in, grabbed Frank’s arm and shoved him aside. My biological parents carefully helped me up, their eyes filled with concern and guilt. Seeing the unexpected intruders, Brenda quickly got up to steady Frank. She shrieked, “Who are you people?” Then, seeing my parents comforting me, she realized what was happening and started screaming at me. “You little tramp! Bringing strangers here to bully your parents, huh?” “We should have just drowned you in the river when you were born! You’re worse than a stray dog!” Then came a torrent of insults: “slut,” “loose,” “no upbringing.” My adoptive parents didn’t hold back. I wondered, They don’t even know I’m not their biological daughter yet. Why could they shower their son with endless affection, but subject their daughter to such extreme insults and beatings? Especially Brenda. She used to be a girl herself. How could she become the very monster who terrorized the “little girl” she once was? I used to think she was trapped, forced by some twisted ideology. But later, I realized she was just plain mean, narrow-minded. She believed her own daughter had to suffer every hardship she herself had endured, and then some. When I was little, I’d bring home good grades, win awards, still longing for her love and approval. All I got in return was indifference and cold snickers. From childhood, Brenda was always the first to hurl those cruel words. Now, I was practically immune to their verbal abuse; I could just tune it out and get on with my chores. My biological parents, however, looked absolutely horrified, and Leo’s fists clenched in pure fury. Well, well. My little plan worked even better than I expected. Now, I didn’t have to do anything. Just act scared. This feeling of having someone step in front of me for once wasn’t bad. I used to desperately crave it. Now? It was just… optional. Not a necessity for survival anymore. Besides, this ‘love’ was mostly calculated, and I knew it would never truly be mine. There was still Summer, the Sterling heiress they’d raised for eighteen years. As soon as they heard I wasn’t their biological daughter, Brenda started wailing and causing a scene. Frank, however, shrewdly assessed my biological parents and quickly started negotiating terms. Leo gently ruffled my hair, his voice soft. “Willow, go with Mom and pack your things.” “Leave this to me and Dad.” I nodded timidly, and under Evelyn’s pained gaze, I went to my room.

The glorified storage room. One side was crammed with junk, the other held my old bed, a worn-out closet, and a desk and chair. That was it. I saw Evelyn’s red-rimmed eyes, but pretended not to notice as I started packing. When she saw me stuffing my faded, worn-out jeans and jacket into a battered suitcase, she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She walked over, pulled the clothes from my hands, and threw them onto the narrow bed. Her voice choked with emotion. “Willow, no. Don’t bother with these. Your mom will buy you new ones.” I looked up, confused. “But they’re not completely worn out yet. I can still wear them.” Evelyn’s lips trembled, but she couldn’t speak. She just hugged me, her tears soaking my shoulder. When I changed out of my wet clothes, I was wearing a sports bra, and behind me, another choked sob. “Willow, what happened?” Evelyn pointed at the scars and burns on my back and arms. Before I could even speak, the door opened. Arthur and Leo stood in the doorway, their eyes fixed on my wounds. A heavy silence filled the air. Frank, who had followed them, saw the commotion and pushed his way in. He yelled, “What are you doing? Hurry up and pack so you can leave, then send us the money!” Then he saw me, froze for a second, and his face twisted in anger. “You stupid girl, what are you staring at? You did that to yourself!” He lunged for me. I flinched slightly, my voice barely a whisper. “Yes, I… I did it by accident.” Leo stepped forward, pushed Frank out of the room, and growled, “If you want that money, you’d better calm down. My sister isn’t someone you can scream at anymore!” Arthur’s eyes were also red-rimmed. “My Willow, you’ve suffered so much.” I shook my head, saying nothing. On the ride home, I was still thinking about how smoothly things had progressed. At least with my biological parents’ help, I could finally break free from that rotten family. They mistook my thoughtful silence for shock, believing I was still reeling. “Willow, we’re so sorry. We shouldn’t have brought you back there.” “We’re so sorry. If only we’d found you sooner, you wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” “Willow, don’t worry. I’ll get revenge for you.” “From now on, with Mom and Dad, no one will ever hurt you again.” Seeing the blatant guilt and a surge of protective love in their reddened eyes, it was impossible not to feel a tiny flicker of emotion. But it was only a tiny flicker. Revenge? I’d take that myself, later. And the ‘suffering’? It was all in the past now. The car stopped. Standing in front of the mansion, a place I’d only ever heard about in passing at other people’s galas, I felt the extreme disparity of this world for the first time. I lowered my gaze. I was starting to feel something, something thrilling. After all, I was now one of the heirs to this boundless wealth and power. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling are back!” Mr. Davies, the butler, and several housekeepers emerged from the main estate to greet us. He saw me, surrounded by my biological family, and hesitated, a question lingering in his eyes. “This is Miss Willow, the second Miss Sterling. Take good care of her from now on.” Arthur said, ushering me inside. The surrounding staff bowed, acknowledging his words. As soon as we entered the grand hall, I looked up and saw a girl standing by the staircase. The girl who had lived my life for eighteen years.

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Late at night, I was scrolling through my phone when I stumbled upon a faceless help video. But I recognized her instantly—it was my wife! “I’m pregnant, but the man I truly love found out and is demanding I get an abortion. He’s terrified I’ll lose my figure. But my husband already knows about the pregnancy. How can I convince him to let go of this baby?” The top comment read: “Easy. Just pretend to accidentally trip and fall. Smear some chicken blood on your thigh to fake a miscarriage, then go to the hospital for the real abortion. Your husband won’t suspect a thing. Plus, you can blame him for not caring enough and make him feel guilty!” The comments section exploded with outrage. Everyone was cursing the poster—calling her vicious for cheating and plotting to kill her own child. My whole body trembled as I stared at that video. Just this morning, Jennifer had told me she was pregnant. I’d been over the moon, calling all our relatives to share the news. But she was planning to kill the baby?! Right then, a crash echoed from the kitchen. Jennifer’s panicked, pain-filled voice followed: “Honey, I fell…” 1 I dropped my phone and sprinted to the kitchen. Jennifer lay on the floor, face twisted in agony. She clutched her stomach, trembling all over. Blood was slowly pooling between her legs. “Honey, quick… call 911. Something’s wrong with our baby!” Watching Jennifer’s frantic expression, my heart sank like a stone. A chill ran down my spine. If I’d only been suspicious before—unsure whether the video was really her—now I was one hundred percent certain. That video was hers. But if she wanted to put on a show, I’d play along. I told her to stay calm, then dialed 91

While waiting for the ambulance, I secretly grabbed a cotton swab and collected some of the blood from the floor. At the hospital, Jennifer was rushed in for examination and emergency treatment. I took the swab to the lab for testing. Before the results came back, a nurse called me using Jennifer’s phone, asking me to come sign some papers. “Sign what?” I asked when I reached the ER entrance. “Your wife’s condition is critical. The fall caused severe internal bleeding. We can’t save the baby.” “If you want to save her life, you need to sign consent for the abortion.” “What if I don’t sign?” “Then we can’t operate. Your wife’s life will be in danger.” “Then I won’t sign.” Under the shocked stares of several nurses, I refused to sign and turned to leave. “Sir, wait!” The nurse who’d asked me to sign called out urgently. “What is it?” I turned back. “Sir, did you hear me correctly?” “If you don’t sign…” “The doctors can’t operate.” “Your wife could die!” She emphasized the last few words, clearly trying to remind me that refusing could cost a life. But I shook my head firmly and repeated: “I won’t sign.” 2 The nurse stood frozen. I smiled at her. “Can I see my wife?” She nodded blankly and pointed toward the ER room. I walked into the room just as the doctor was leaving. “Did you sign?” “Not yet.” My answer made the doctor pause. I approached the hospital bed. Jennifer looked pale and weak, tears streaming silently down her face. “Honey,” she choked out, “is our baby… really gone?” I pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “Yes.” My calm reaction confused her. “The baby’s gone. Why don’t you seem sad at all?” “Maybe it’s fate.” Jennifer nodded slowly. She stroked her stomach gently, sobbing quietly. “Baby, Mommy was careless. Mommy is so sorry.” Just then, her parents burst into the room. “Daughter!” Her mother Rachel rushed in wailing, cursing God for being cruel. Her father Thomas also had tears in his eyes, his expression heavy. “How did you fall out of nowhere?” “I was hungry. I went to the kitchen to get something to eat, but there was water on the floor. I slipped.” Jennifer explained through her tears. “Ethan, is this how you take care of my daughter?” “She was hungry and you couldn’t fix her something to eat?” “You let a pregnant woman go to the kitchen by herself?” Rachel immediately turned on me after hearing her daughter’s explanation. The fury in her eyes suggested she wanted to tear me apart. “You were so careless! Your own wife is pregnant and you don’t pay attention! She was carrying your child!” “Now something’s happened to the baby. You’re the murderer!” Thomas seemed to find an outlet for his rage, pinning all the blame on me. It was as if I’d deliberately pushed their daughter down. Faced with Jennifer’s parents’ accusations and criticism, I didn’t argue. I chose silence. “Mom, Dad, don’t yell at Ethan. It’s all my fault.” “I shouldn’t have been so greedy, shouldn’t have been hungry.” “If I hadn’t gone to the kitchen, none of this would have happened.” “I failed my baby.” Jennifer cried as she defended me. But the more she spoke this way, the angrier Thomas and Rachel became. Rachel’s eyes reddened, and she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “You heartless asshole!” “You promised us you’d take care of our daughter.” “And what happened? You broke your promise! You not only let our daughter get hurt, you indirectly killed our grandchild!” “You’re a murderer!” Right then, the doctor entered with several nurses. “Why hasn’t the family signed yet?” 3 “Sign what?” Thomas frowned. “The patient urgently needs surgery to remove the fetus.” “Otherwise her life will be in danger.” “He hasn’t signed yet?” Thomas pointed at me. “That’s correct.” The doctor nodded and explained, “We already reminded Mr. Cole to sign, but he refused!” “You asshole! What are you hesitating for?” “Why did you refuse?” “You already killed the baby!” “Do you want to kill my daughter too?” Thomas shook with rage, his eyes flashing with menace. If there weren’t so many people around, he would have already attacked me. “Doctor, if he won’t sign, I will.” “And you are?” “I’m the patient’s father.” “I’m sorry, but only the patient’s husband has the authority to sign for this procedure.” “The patient is my daughter! I’m her father and I don’t have the right to sign?” “That’s correct.” The doctor nodded. “Give it to him! I’ll make him sign!” When the nurse handed me the pen, I didn’t take it. “You asshole! What are you waiting for?” “Take the pen and sign!” Thomas roared at me. When I still didn’t move, Rachel went mad and lunged at me, clawing at my face. “You monster ! Do you have someone else?” “First you killed the baby!” “Now you want my daughter to die in this hospital bed?” “I’ll kill you!” I kept backing away. Rachel advanced relentlessly, her face twisted with rage. She looked ready to tear me to shreds. I backed up to the bed. Jennifer suddenly grabbed my hand. “Mom, let me talk to him.” Only then did Rachel force herself to calm down. “Daughter, what is there to say to this asshole?” “He doesn’t love you at all!” Rachel glared at me furiously. “Honey, I know losing this baby is devastating for you.” “But it’s already happened. We can’t change it.” “Besides, we’re still young.” “We’ll have many more chances.” “Please just sign, okay?” I stared at Jennifer. After a moment, I said calmly: “I’ll sign—but before I do, I want a divorce.” Jennifer froze. She stared at me, her eyes filled with disbelief. Thomas and Rachel reacted like they’d been struck. They both lunged forward and grabbed my collar. Thomas punched me several times, roaring: “You bastard ! Are you even human?” “My daughter is in this condition!” “And you’re bringing up divorce right now?”

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My mom divorced my dad after he cheated on her. Ever since, she’s struggled with crippling anxiety and needed to monitor my every move. When I started college, I had to check in with her three times daily just to receive my allowance. Then one morning, I overslept and missed a check-in. I’d come down with severe pneumonia from the flu. Mom flipped out and cut off my allowance for the entire day. Without money for medication, my pneumonia worsened and developed into sepsis. Barely making it to the hospital, I called Mom begging for a month’s allowance in advance to pay for medicine. But she shut me down immediately: “Lily! You’re just like your lying, cheating father—nothing but a manipulator!” “You planning to blow this cash on some shady stuff with him, huh? No way in hell!” Her enraged yelling echoed through the phone—loud enough for the billing clerk to overhear every word. “Ma’am, you have acute sepsis. It’s life-threatening. Maybe you should try explaining the situation to your family again?” I glanced at the long line behind me, forced a weak smile, and stepped aside. “I’ll try calling again.” I huddled in a corner, burning with fever. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. My hands trembled as I typed a message: “Mom, I’m so sorry. I won’t mess up again. Please just help me this once.” I hit send. *Message Not Delivered.* Desperate, I opened Snapchat and messaged my stepdad David, hoping he could spot me some emergency funds. That’s when I saw his post from a minute ago. In the photo, he, Mom, and my half-sister Mia were all grinning with their cheeks pressed together. “December 8th—taking my wife and kids out for French dinner!” Mom hadn’t smiled like that around me since the divorce. Whenever she looked at me—saw Dad’s face staring back at her—all I saw was hatred and resentment. After she remarried and Mia was born, that smile came back. David and Mia were both genuinely kind, always greeting me warmly. But I always felt like an outsider—a ghost haunting the edges of their perfect little family. Too scared to get close, too scared to rock the boat. I just lingered like a shadow, quietly watching the fragile happiness Mom had finally found. Those three daily check-ins were all that kept us connected. My roommate called me nuts for letting my family treat me like a prisoner, but it was a twisted kind of comfort. It was the only tie I had left to Mom. Every check-in, I ached to share my day—all the little wins and worries. But I was terrified of annoying her, so my messages got shorter and shorter—never more than a sentence. She never replied, just sent cold, impersonal allowance transfers. For years, I held onto those transfers like lifelines, convincing myself Mom still cared. The pain in my body intensified. Finally, I worked up the nerve to text David: “David, I’m really sick. Could you loan me some emergency cash? I’ll pay you back, promise.” The second I hit send, my phone rang. I answered, but Mom’s enraged voice exploded through the speaker. “Lily, you ungrateful brat! You think you can hit up your stepdad for money? Can’t stand seeing me happy, huh?” “How could you even be my daughter? You’re probably his and that whore’s kid!” I couldn’t say a word. I knew Mom was reliving the day she found out about Dad’s affair. His mistress got pregnant. Dad, panicking, tried to pressure her into an abortion and cut things off—but she refused. She showed up at our house, flaunting her pregnancy, and told Mom she’d terminate for $50,000. Otherwise, she’d latch onto our family forever with that baby. Back then, Mom was secretly pregnant with my little brother, though no one knew it yet. Not until she flew into a rage, started bleeding, and ended up in the ER. That’s when we learned she’d miscarried. The divorce was inevitable after that. I waited terrified for her decision, scared she’d abandon me too. Thankfully, she took me with her. She jabbed her finger at my temple, voice dripping with loathing: “From now on, you’re Lily Green—my name. You’ll have nothing to do with that father of yours!” “You better be a perfect daughter, or I’ll disown you! Got it?” I forced a smile and carefully took her hand. “Got it, Mom. I’ll be good!” “Don’t you dare bother your stepdad again. Understand?” “Yes, Mom…” Before I could finish, she hung up. I slowly sank to the floor, burying my face in my knees as silent tears soaked my jeans. My eyelids grew heavy. I closed my eyes and slipped into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a restaurant. Mom, David, and Mia sat at a table—laughing like one big happy family. I called out “Mom” without thinking, but no one turned around. I looked down at my translucent hand and laughed bitterly. So I died, huh? Good. My face always bothered Mom—too much like Dad’s. Now that I’m gone, she can finally have peace. After hanging up, David turned to Mom in a quiet voice. “Eleanor, Lily might actually need that money. You should’ve asked what was wrong.” Mom scowled. “Please. She’s just a college kid—how much could she possibly need?” “Give her too much cash, and she’ll get reckless. Start partying or something.” “She needs to learn a lesson. I’m cutting her off for a week. Otherwise, she’ll run wild—who knows what she’d do!” I shook my head frantically, wanting to scream that I was a good kid. But I was just a ghost. No matter how hard I tried, no one could see me. Mia perked up when she heard my name. “Was that Lily? Can I talk to her? I miss her!” She looked up at her parents, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Mom—who usually gave Mia anything she wanted—shook her head. “Mia, don’t talk to Lily. She made bad choices. She’s trouble, and she’ll lead you astray!” Mia shook her head. “Teacher says everyone makes mistakes! Even if Lily messed up, she deserves a second chance.” “I learned a new saying today: ‘Admit your mistakes and fix them!’” Tears blurred my vision. I reached out to stroke her hair—my hand passing right through. Thanks, Mia. For sticking up for me. For believing in me. Mia’s innocent words softened Mom’s scowl a little. “If your sister were half as sweet and smart as you, I wouldn’t be so upset.” “C’mon, Mia. Let’s not talk about your sister anymore.” “Let’s try this soup!” She changed the subject, ladling steaming soup into Mia’s bowl. Mia frowned. “Fine, but tomorrow I’m calling Lily!” Just then, Mom’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it—a message from my college advisor, Professor Thompson. “Ms. Green, have you heard from Lily? She didn’t check into her dorm tonight and hasn’t requested leave. We’re concerned for her safety.” Mom’s brief smile disappeared. “Always causing problems!” I wrung my ghostly hands, silently begging for forgiveness. I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve told the school I was sick. I messed up again. Mom texted back to Professor Thompson: “Don’t worry about her. She’s probably out partying somewhere!” Professor Thompson called right away. Professor Thompson called her. “But her roommate said she went to the hospital today.”

Mom scoffed. “Professor Thompson, don’t waste your time. Lily’s a bad seed—born to lie and manipulate!” Professor Thompson tried to reason with her. But Mom hung up without a second thought. David stood there, looking like he wanted to say something but biting his tongue. Mom didn’t seem worried at all. “She’ll check in by tomorrow morning, tops.” “If not, she gets zero allowance for the whole month!” But the next day, my check-in never came. Mom started pacing the house, clearly anxious. Her phone rang, and she grabbed it instantly. It was Dad. “Eleanor Green speaking.” “Your ex-husband’s a little short on cash. Send me some money!” Mom’s face turned red with rage. “Victor Adams! You bastard, how dare you call me?” “Believe me, I don’t want to. But our daughter didn’t send me my monthly money.” My chest tightened. Oh no. Mom would lose it if she found out I’d been in touch with Dad. Ever since Dad found out I got into a top university, he’d been harassing me nonstop. “My successful daughter’s forgotten her poor old dad,” he’d sob outside my dorm, putting on a whole show for everyone to see. “Your old man’s barely scraping by. No money, and I’ll have to go bother your mom!” To keep him away from Mom, I’d been sending him $100 from my monthly allowance—whatever I could spare. But this month, being sick, I had nothing extra to give. I told him I was sick, but he didn’t care. I never thought he’d go straight to Mom! I floated around in a panic. Bitterness welled up inside me. It was his fault Mom lost the baby, got divorced, and developed anxiety! Why couldn’t he just disappear? Mom was already on edge from me missing check-in this morning. This call was like pouring gasoline on a fire. Her voice shot up in volume. “You son of a bitch! You’ve been talking to her??” “Do you have any idea what Lily went through when you cheated? The looks, the whispers??” “And now you’re dragging her back into this??” “Just drop dead! Go crawl in a hole and die!” She slammed the phone down. I froze. So Mom *had* noticed how much I was hurting back then. She did care about me. A small smile tugged at my lips. I wanted to hug her so badly. But Mom was trembling all over. “Lily… Lily!” “I told her not to talk to her father. How could she lie to me…” Her hands shook so hard she could barely hold her phone. My chest tightened—Mom was having a panic attack. Mom dropped to her knees, gasping for air, then collapsed to the floor. “Mom!” I tried to help her, but my hands just passed through her body. “Mom!!” Mia ran in when she heard the noise. “Mom! I’ll get your medicine!” Mia wasn’t even five, but she knew exactly what to do. She was calmer than I ever could be. She grabbed the pill bottle, got a glass of water, and helped Mom sit up. After Mom took the medicine, her breathing steadied. I let out a shaky breath. “Mia, you’re my little angel.” “Not like your sister. She’s nothing but trouble.” “I warned her a hundred times, but she kept sneaking around with him.” “Why would she…” Mom’s voice cracked, and she started sobbing. Mia wrapped her tiny arms around Mom’s neck like a little grown-up. “Don’t cry, Mom. Both me and Lily are your angels!” Watching them hug, I hung my head. She was right to be upset with me. She told me never to talk to Dad again. I promised, but I broke that promise. Just then, Mom’s phone rang again—urgently.

It was David, sounding frantic. “Eleanor! The hospital just called—Lily’s dead!” Mom went rigid. She opened her mouth, but only a bitter laugh came out. “Enough!” “David, don’t fall for her games.” “You know what? She’s been sneaking him money every month, right under my nose.” “Sick in the hospital? Please. She’s just scamming me for cash to give that man!” David paused. “But… it was from Lily’s phone. The nurse gave me her patient ID.” “So what? She texts me yesterday, and now she’s ‘dead’?” “If something really happened, why wouldn’t she call me? Her own mother?” Because you blocked my number, Mom… My chest ached. But I couldn’t blame her. Mom’s anxiety made her block out anything too painful. She probably didn’t even remember blocking me. David went quiet. Mom hung up without another word. Then Mia started coughing hard. Mom snapped to attention, feeling Mia’s burning forehead. “Mia, you’re burning up! Why didn’t you tell me you felt sick?” “Didn’t wanna worry you, Mommy,” Mia whispered weakly. I looked away, ashamed. I was ashamed of myself. Mia was sick but tried not to worry Mom. I only ever caused problems. Mom took Mia to the hospital. The same one I died in. As they left with Mia’s prescription, Mom heard nurses talking. “Poor kid. No family came to claim her.” “College student, too. Such a waste.” “This flu is brutal. Killed her in days.” Mom slowed down. “Her mom blocked the hospital calls. Can you believe that?” “Her stepdad said he’d come, but never showed.” Mom stopped walking. Something clicked in her head. She pulled out her phone and checked our messages. There it was—she’d blocked me. Her face went white. “No wonder she didn’t check in… I blocked her.” “I’ll forgive her. Just don’t do it again, Lily.” She unblocked me and called. No answer. Her hands shook as she tried again. A covered gurney rolled past. The hospital doors whooshed open, blowing cold air.

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After being kidnapped and rescued, my sister Seraphina developed PTSD. She swore she’d never lie again. On her first day back, she curled up, sobbing: “Avery thinks I’m damaged goods now, doesn’t she? It’s fine, really. Sleeping in the dog kennel is a huge step up from the filth I was stuck in out in the boonies.” Mom and Dad flipped out. They locked me in the basement with aggressive dogs for three straight days and nights. But just as I woke from my terror and hunger, Seraphina pointed at me, tears streaming down her face: “What did I ever do to you? How could you drug me with that aphrodisiac?! Thank God Damian was there to help—otherwise I would’ve rather died!” I shook my head frantically, denying everything, but my fiancé—his shirt wrinkled and hair messy—already had this icy look in his eyes. “Seraphina never lies. Why would she make this up about you? Guess you need to suffer more before you learn your lesson!” They ganged up and sent me to the strictest psychiatric hospital for ‘rehabilitation therapy’. I was clinging to life by a thread when, in my darkest moment, I made a desperate wish. The second I finished, my sister—who was being interviewed on live TV—suddenly froze. Her eyes went glassy, and before anyone could stop her, she stripped off her clothes and threw herself at my fiancé!

The broadcast cut to black immediately. That same night, they rushed me home from the hospital. The second I walked through the door, Dad backhanded me so hard my ears rang. “Seraphina’s your sister!” he screamed. “You couldn’t even behave in the mental hospital? You bribed someone to drug her and humiliate her on live TV!” “How did I end up with such a twisted daughter?!” I wiped the blood from my lip and let out a bitter laugh: “You took my phone, and I’m on camera 24/7. No cash, no access—how the hell could I drug her?” His red face went rigid. Seraphina was sobbing nearby, looking like a wreck: “You drugged me even when you were locked in the basement last time! A psych ward wouldn’t stop you!” “Avery, I barely survived. I just want to move on! Please, can’t you leave me alone?” “Now everyone’s calling me a homewrecker…” Mom pulled her close, voice breaking: “Avery, how did you get so cruel? If you hadn’t run off that day, Seraphina never would’ve been taken!” “I’ve already talked to the Maxwells. Your engagement’s going to Seraphina! We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow to clear her name!” Even though I’d given up on them long ago, my throat still tightened: “What about me? You know the internet will destroy me if you do this!” And I hadn’t run off that day. Seraphina hated sharing Mom and Dad’s attention, so she took me to the amusement park and ditched me! The cops found me and brought me home. But she got kidnapped. None of this was my fault! Dad’s eyes bored into me, tone final: “You’ve had it easy your whole life. Taking one fall for Seraphina won’t kill you! Tomorrow, you’ll admit you were jealous and set her up!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Seraphina, eyes puffy from crying, burrowed into Mom’s arms: “Avery, if you just confess, I’ll forgive you. I swear I won’t steal your fiancé or cross any lines with him. If I do, may I never have children!” Mom gasped and waved her hands frantically, tears spilling: “Seraphina, you’re too good-hearted! Don’t make such a terrible promise! It doesn’t count!” Dad’s jaw tightened when he saw Seraphina’s trembling. He barked at the bodyguards: “Take her to the cold storage room and make her kneel all night! Maybe that’ll knock some sense into her!” My knees hit the marble floor with a crack, and the cold seeped straight through my bones. I laughed. Never have children? Seraphina, did you forget you can’t lie anymore? I used my wish to make your oaths come true. The next day at the press conference, cameras flashed as my sister gave a shy smile. As Mom and Dad placed her hand in Damian Maxwell’s, Seraphina shot me a secret grin and mouthed: “You’ll never beat me.” Then a bloodcurdling scream cut through the room. A reporter pointed at Seraphina’s dress, horrified: “Blood! There’s blood everywhere!” The conference dissolved into chaos. Seraphina was rushed to the hospital. She’d miscarried. After finally getting pregnant with Damian’s baby, she lost it. Dr. Evans looked completely confused: “This doesn’t make sense. Our tests show Ms. Seraphina was born infertile—she can’t get pregnant, let alone miscarry!” Mom and Dad froze, faces going pale: “That can’t be right! Seraphina was just…” I looked down, smirking to myself. Of course it was because she’d broken her promise—kissing Damian backstage before the conference. Her vow to ‘never have children’ had come true. Then a man’s voice boomed from the hallway: “Infertile? That’s bull!”

My ex-fiancé Damian Maxwell stormed in, scowling, followed by my stuck-up brother Jasper. He backhanded me to the floor, planting his boot on my stomach and grinding down: “Talk! What did you do to Seraphina? Did you pay off this doctor to lie about her infertility?!” I went white from pain, but before I could speak, Jasper kicked me in the ribs: “You’re just jealous! Mom and Dad left everything to Seraphina and me, so you’re taking revenge!” “Seraphina’s my only sister. A monster like you doesn’t belong in this family!” The physical pain didn’t hold a candle to what I felt inside. The room spun. The absurdity of it all almost made me laugh. I was family too, but the long-lost sister got all the love, and the golden boy brother got everything else. I was just… invisible. I’d tried so hard to be the perfect daughter—obedient, responsible—but they only saw me as their doormat. Now I wasn’t even getting a cent of the inheritance. Seraphina dragged herself off the hospital bed and threw herself at my feet, wailing: “Avery! Please! My baby was only three months along, and you killed him!” “Mom and Dad can leave their money to whomever they want! How could you take this out on me?!” Damian scooped her up, face twisted with pity. He turned to me, jaw tight: “Avery, you’re a monster. You should be locked up forever.” I pushed myself up, every breath sending stabs of pain through my stomach: “I was under guard all night, kneeling in that freezing room. When would I have done this?” Even Dr. Evans looked terrified, stammering: “It’s the truth—I wasn’t bribed, I swear…” Dad cut him off, grabbing me and slamming me against the wall. “I’m the head of this family!” he roared. “You’ve always been cold and heartless. You don’t deserve the Maxwell name!” Something inside me snapped. I screamed: “Cold-blooded? You’ve blamed me for Seraphina’s disappearance since day one! I was your punching bag—you hit me whenever you were mad, and Jasper got to push me around too!” “Seraphina was the one who left me! This is all her own fault!” Seraphina went white as a sheet, hyperventilating through her sobs: “I didn’t… I would never! You’re my sister!” “Avery, please calm down. I’ll tell everyone I was the homewrecker! I don’t want the inheritance—I don’t want anything!” “We’ll always be family, even without money! It’s all my fault. I deserve this… I deserve to be unhappy forever…” She sobbed until she fainted, and the whole family swarmed around her. Damian shoved me away like I was garbage: “You’ve become someone else. The sweet Avery I knew is gone.” Whatever was left of my heart turned to stone. I laughed bitterly. Yeah, I’d changed. The Avery who used to pour her heart out to him, who begged for his love—she died the day he chose Seraphina. If Seraphina didn’t want the money, then no one would have it. Dad’s phone started ringing like crazy. He scowled and answered. “Mr. Maxwell, we’re ruined! Stock prices crashed, partners are pulling out—we’re gonna go bankrupt!”

The hospital room went dead quiet. Then Dad exploded: “That’s impossible!” He went pale when he saw the bankruptcy notice, trying to steady Mom: “It’s fine! Even if Maxwell Corp goes under, Grandpa will help us! He has to!” The door slammed open. Grandpa Arthur strode in, stone-faced, with a frail old woman trailing behind him. The woman spotted Dad and collapsed to her knees, wailing: “My poor boy! I’m so sorry I left you in the snow that night. I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Dad recoiled, shoving her away: “What are you talking about?! I’m the Maxwell heir! You’re crazy!” He turned to Grandpa, voice shaking: “Dad, tell her! I’m your real son, right?” Grandpa’s eyes swept the room, finally landing on my bruised face. He motioned me over. I walked over silently. He took my hand and announced: “From this day forward, Avery is the sole heir to the Maxwell fortune.” “She’s proven herself at the company, and she’s my only true blood descendant.” Dad’s face lit up. He rounded on the old woman: “Did you hear that? Avery’s my daughter—she’s a Maxwell! Who paid you to lie?” He spun to me, eyes blazing: “Avery! What did you do? Did you brainwash Grandpa? I’m supposed to be the heir!” The old woman wiped her tears, sniffling: “How can you say that? If I hadn’t left you on the Maxwells’ doorstep, you’d have starved to death!” Dad grilled her, demanding to know about birthmarks or identifying features. The woman stammered, clearly making things up. Dad pounced on her hesitation: “We’re in a hospital—let’s do a DNA test right now!” He didn’t notice Grandpa’s icy stare. When the DNA results came back, Dad crumpled to the floor. Jasper went berserk. He charged at me, fist raised: “Avery! You rigged this!” Grandpa’s bodyguards intercepted him, shoving him onto the floor. Dad lost all his dignity. He crawled to Grandpa, begging: “Dad, please! You can’t throw me away like this!” He was over fifty, still clinging to Grandpa’s coattails. Grandpa sighed, his eyes flicking to Seraphina: “You couldn’t see what was right in front of you. Avery’s my granddaughter, and you let them hurt her.” Dad snapped out of his stupor and charged into Seraphina’s room. Seraphina’s eyes flew open as he backhanded her off the bed: “You idiot! Your little games cost me everything!” She clutched her cheek, tears instantly welling: “Dad? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Even Mom, who’d always coddled her, pointed a shaking finger: “You selfish little liar! How could you frame Avery? You deserve to rot in that backwoods shack!” They dragged Seraphina out. She broke free and lunged at me: “Avery! What did you do to me…” This time I didn’t hold back. I kicked her down and turned to Richard and Eleanor: “While I’m still calling you Mom and Dad—get her out of my sight.”

After that day, Richard and Eleanor treated me like royalty. They’d seen the DNA results. They didn’t understand how it happened, but they knew better than to cross me now. Grandpa let them stay in the mansion, but Seraphina got thrown out—broken and alone. Eleanor even started cooking for me personally. Before, I’d been lucky to get Jasper’s leftovers. I’d eaten in the kitchen with the staff. Funny how I’d once tried to kill myself for their attention. Turns out, money works better than tears. “Avery, today’s the big announcement. Do we look okay?” They wanted to play the perfect parents for the cameras, of course. But I remembered Damian’s face in that hospital room—how tender he’d been with Seraphina. He’d looked at me like he was planning something. I knew he wasn’t done. So I let them tag along. Grandpa feigned illness that day, sending his lawyer to announce me as heir. “I object!” All eyes turned. Damian strolled in, Seraphina on his arm. He shoulder-checked me as he passed: “You don’t deserve the Maxwell name.” He hit a button, and a screen lit up behind him: “Avery’s a criminal! She runs a DNA forgery ring and traffics people!” “She faked the DNA results! None of you know if your own kids are really yours!” “How many families has she torn apart? How many kids stolen?” “Is this who you want leading Maxwell Industries?” “Is this the woman you want as your leader?!” Fake documents flashed across the screen. Richard and Eleanor’s eyes lit up. They put on their shocked faces: “Avery! Tell us this isn’t true!” Seraphina clutched her chest, tears streaming: “I saw her! I saw her making deals with them! It’s all true!” “Dad, we’re your real children! How can she be the heir and not us?!” “I swear on my life—if I’m lying, may God strike me down!” The crowd turned on me, worried about their own fortunes. Damian capitalized on their fear: “Guards! Take her away! She belongs in prison!” Richard and Eleanor mouthed to the guards: ‘Make sure she disappears.’ They dragged me out, blood smearing the floor. I locked eyes with Seraphina and smiled. Struck down by lightning? Terrible end? You just cursed yourself, Seraphina.

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I was on a business trip when my neighbor texted to say my husband had brought home some gorgeous woman. I booked the next flight home. Derek wasn’t there. I tore through the place like a lunatic. “You slut! Show yourself!” I bent down to check under the bed and found a bloody corpse. Her head had been cut off. Her eyes were wide open, staring right at me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. That’s when I heard footsteps. Derek was coming back! The lock clicked. My body jolted. On pure instinct, I scanned the room and dived into the closet. The closet had louvered doors. Through the slats, I could still see that severed head under the bed. She was wearing heavy smoky eye makeup and theatrical contact lenses. At first glance, her eyes looked completely black—bulging like they might pop out of their sockets any second. I clapped a hand over my mouth. My heart thundered so loud I thought it would burst through my ribs. This wasn’t happening. I came to catch him cheating, not walk into a crime scene. Why would Derek do this? Did they get into a fight? Derek had a temper, sure. If our server was slow at restaurants, he’d pound the table. Picking fights was practically his hobby. But murder? That’s crazy. Did he even think about the consequences? My thoughts raced as Derek stepped into the bedroom. He seemed to be in a great mood, carrying a black trash bag and humming cheerfully. “What a beautiful day, everything’s going my way~” Still humming, he knelt down slowly, set the trash bag beside him, and pulled that head out from under the bed. He cradled the head in his left hand, tapping the woman’s nose playfully with his right. “You just wouldn’t listen, would you?” His tone was teasing, like they were old flames bantering. “Look at you. So beautiful. I really did like you.” “I told you to stay put, but you just had to go digging through my stuff.” “You found my secret. What was I supposed to do? You left me no choice.” “We had such a good thing going. Hate to see it end like this.” As he spoke, he leaned in and smacked two loud kisses on the woman’s bright red lips. The metallic stench of blood hit me hard. I gagged, clamping my mouth shut tighter. I never knew Derek had this side to him. Kissing a severed head? What the hell? Was he some kind of psychopath? And what secret was he talking about? We’d been married four years. I cleaned this house, organized his life. His phone password was my birthday—I could check it anytime. Never saw anything suspicious! I stared at Derek’s blood-smeared face, contorted into that sick grin. He looked like a total stranger. He kissed the head a few more times, then went back to humming. “What a beautiful day, tomorrow’s gonna be even better…” Still humming, he tossed the head into the trash bag, then bent down to drag the woman’s body out from under the bed. That’s when I noticed she was naked. She had an amazing figure—would’ve been a knockout if she were alive. But now there was a gaping wound across her slim waist. Derek reached out and stroked the wound slowly, his face almost mournful. “What a waste. Didn’t want to have to do this so soon.” He went to the kitchen and came back with a meat cleaver. He knelt on the floor and started dismembering the body with practiced ease. His movements were smooth, almost elegant. I could barely hear the bones cracking. He was completely focused, like an artist admiring his work. Soon he had both legs separated at the joints, bones laid out neatly, flesh chopped and stuffed into the trash bag. He stood up and stretched. Suddenly his eyes locked on something. His expression shifted instantly.

I followed his gaze and froze. Cold sweat broke out all over me. It was my earring! I touched my earlobe automatically. The left one was empty. Must’ve fallen off when I was tearing through the room earlier. Derek frowned. He walked over and picked it up. “Rachel was wearing these when she left. I’m sure of it.” These pearl earrings were Derek’s birthday gift to me. I loved them—before my trip, I’d even picked out an outfit specifically to match them. Derek had teased me about it, saying people usually pick jewelry to match their outfit, not the other way around. Like making dumplings just because you had soy sauce, he’d joked. Derek clearly remembered that conversation too. His expression darkened. He lifted his head and scanned the room, eyes raking every corner. I held my breath, petrified. Then it hit me. I fumbled for my phone in my pocket. My palms were so sweaty my fingers kept slipping. I tried unlocking it several times, but my hands were shaking too hard. My whole body trembled. My heart felt like it was in my throat. Through the closet slats, I watched Derek pick up his phone from the nightstand and call me. I hadn’t silenced it. If it rang, I was dead! In a split second, I pressed and held the power button, shutting it off just in time. Right then, a robotic female voice cut through the silence. “We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not available.” After a few failed attempts, Derek’s scowl deepened. “Why’s it off? Dead battery?” “Whatever. Probably overreacting. She shouldn’t be back yet.” “Must’ve dropped it before she left.” Derek shook his head with a small laugh, slipped the earring into his pocket, and went back to cutting up the body. About half an hour later, he had all the bones and flesh separated and packed into different large trash bags, which he took to the kitchen. I was still hiding in the closet. My legs had gone completely numb from squatting. I could hear water running in the kitchen. I flexed my numb ankles and carefully cracked the closet door open a fraction. Our apartment had an open floor plan. The small room next to the kitchen had been knocked through to make a dining area, and the kitchen opened right into it. A set of cabinets divided the dining area from the living room. In other words, if I left the bedroom quietly, I could get straight to the front door without Derek seeing me. I had to take this chance to escape. What happened after that? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care right then. I just needed to get away from Derek—from that monster.

I opened the closet door and stood frozen for a few seconds, waiting for feeling to return to my legs. Then I tiptoed forward as silently as possible, inching toward the front door. One step, two steps, three steps. The dark red security door was right there! Derek was still in the kitchen, running water. I reached for the doorknob, my knuckles white from gripping so hard. Suddenly— “Knock knock knock!” A loud pounding came from the door. I jumped, my body jerking violently. “Rachel? Derek? Anyone home?” It was our neighbor Karen—her voice loud and excited, like she was bursting with gossip. Almost instantly, the water in the kitchen stopped. My scalp prickled. I yanked my hand back and scanned the room. The living room was wide open—nowhere to hide except behind the big L-shaped couch angled by the door. I dove behind it, curling into a ball, my heart hammering against my ribs. Derek’s footsteps approached, passing right by the couch where I hid, heading for the door. “Who is it?” His voice was totally calm. “It’s Karen!” The voice outside sounded even more eager. “Heard noise and thought maybe Rachel was home?” “Baked fresh cornbread muffins—Rachel’s favorite. Still warm!” “Hey Karen.” Derek opened the door a crack, not all the way. “Rachel’s not back yet. Just making bone broth—chopping up bones. Want some?” “Really?” Karen’s tone changed. She craned her neck through the crack, like she wanted to squeeze inside. “Weird. Swear I saw her come into the building this afternoon.” “You two fight or something?” “Derek, you’re a good guy. Don’t go messin’ around on our Rachel!” I lay on the cold tile, my shirt soaked with sweat. Karen lived right across the hall. She was friendly enough, but couldn’t mind her own business to save her life. She was the one who texted me about Derek bringing a woman home—said I should come catch him in the act. I never thought she’d stick around for the show after sending that text. Now she was here, trying to stir up drama. And now she was going to get me killed! Derek’s expression shifted when he heard that. “What are you talking about?” “Rachel’s not supposed to be back until tomorrow. I bought her train ticket myself.” “How could she be here today? You must have seen wrong, Karen.” Derek’s voice still had a smile in it, but there was an edge underneath. He gripped the doorknob, his knuckles whitening slightly. Karen let out an “Oh!” and lowered her voice, but you could hear the gossip-hungry excitement. “Tyler saw her! Said he ran into Rachel at the building entrance half an hour ago. She even said hi. No way he’s mistaken!” She paused, then her voice went up again, fishing for information. “What, she didn’t come up?” “Or did she come in, see something she shouldn’t have, you two fought, and she took off?” Karen raised her eyebrows meaningfully. “Derek, you can’t do this!” “Rachel’s such a sweet kid. Her parents treat you like their own son—always bringing you food, buying you stuff, looking out for you.” “Don’t do something stupid!” Derek’s face turned stone cold. His jaw tightened. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his tone forced. “Karen, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Rachel really hasn’t come back. And there’s nothing to hide here.” He stepped aside, sounding almost helpless. “If you don’t believe me, come on in and check for yourself.” Karen laughed awkwardly. “Listen to you! Of course I believe you.” She mumbled something about Rachel probably getting stuck in the lobby. Otherwise, if Rachel had really come back to catch him cheating and found that woman, there’d be screaming by now. No way it’d be this quiet. With that, Karen thrust the plate of cornbread muffins into Derek’s hands and forced a smile. “Tyler must’ve been mistaken.” “You get back to your broth. I’ll let myself out. Tell Rachel I stopped by when she gets in.” “Will do. Thanks, Karen.” Derek closed the door and slowly turned around. He stood there for a moment. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “Baby~” “You’re home. Why don’t you come out?” “Playing hide and seek with your husband?” As he spoke, he started walking toward the couch—slow, deliberate steps. Each footstep echoed in my head. I was petrified, my mind going blank. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The footsteps stopped. Derek’s voice came from above me, low and cold. “Well, well. Found you.”

My body went rigid. I lifted my head slowly, my neck stiff as a board. Derek crouched down and reached out to brush my hair. “Rachel, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home early?” “Ahhh—” I let out a bloodcurdling scream. Derek moved fast. His hand slid down from my hair to clamp over my mouth. My scream turned into a muffled gurgle. I thrashed wildly, pushing against him with all my strength. “Let me go! Let me go!” Derek was bigger, stronger—all muscle. I couldn’t break free. With my mouth and nose covered, black spots danced in front of my eyes. My chest felt like it would explode from lack of air. My eyes rolled back, and everything went dark. When I came to, I was lying on the couch with a thick blanket over me. Derek poked his head out from the dining room and smiled at me. “Hey, sleepyhead. Figured you’d be up soon.” “You sure can sleep. C’mon, breakfast is ready.” “Spent three hours on that bone broth. Smells amazing, right?” I sat up so fast I got dizzy, my body rigid with terror. For a second, I wondered if I was already dead. But the warm blanket over me and the cool autumn breeze drifting in from the balcony—still damp from the rain—reminded me I was alive. I stared at Derek, clutching the blanket tight, my eyes wide with fear. Derek walked over with a white ceramic bowl. “Try it. You’ll love it.” A thick layer of yellowish fat floated on top. A few off-white bones bobbed underneath. The memory of what he’d done made my stomach heave. I almost retched. I swallowed hard and shrank back. “I need to use the bathroom.” “Sure, go ahead.” Derek moved the bowl aside and sat down next to me on the couch. I stood up shakily and took a few steps toward the bathroom. I glanced back at Derek. He was still smiling at me—no sign he thought I might fight or run. Like everything that happened was just my imagination. I didn’t know what game he was playing, but I wasn’t about to waste this chance! I spun around and ran for the door, screaming for help at the top of my lungs. Derek didn’t even try to stop me. He just sat there on the couch, watching calmly with a dark look in his eyes. I wrenched the door open and ran straight into Karen, who was just stepping out of her apartment. When she saw me, her eyes lit up. “Rachel! I knew you were home!” She hurried over, leaned in, peeked into my apartment, then stage-whispered, “Well? Did you find her?” “If there’s gonna be a fight, just holler. I’ll help you take that homewrecker down!” “Karen, call 911! Now!” I grabbed her hand, tears streaming down my face. “Derek killed her! He murdered that woman! Call the cops!” “What? Murder?” Karen’s eyes went wide. “Don’t say stuff like that! You’re scaring me!” “I’m telling the truth! He killed her—cut her up…” I babbled, trying to explain what happened. Karen turned pale. She pulled me into her apartment, locked the door, and called the police.

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When I was ten, my parents’ business went bankrupt, and they were driven to take their own lives. Facing the threats of the creditors, my older sister, who was someone’s mistress, came back. She arrived with bodyguards, sold my parents’ house, paid off the debts, and then forcibly dragged me into a car. “From today on, you’re with me. Mom and Dad’s remaining debt is eight hundred thousand. You’ll earn it back when you’re older.” I glared at her, full of hatred. “Why did you even come back?! Mom and Dad died because of you! Why wasn’t it you who died instead?!” She fell silent. I’d known since I was little that I had an older sister. She’d left home at 18, claiming our family was too poor to give her the life she wanted. So she got involved with a rich man, becoming his mistress. At school, my classmates would always ask me, “Brooke, is it true your sister became someone’s mistress? How shameless!” “Your sister threw her life away, didn’t she? Is that how your family gets all its money?” “My mom says your sister is shameless and told me not to play with you!” I’d always hated her. Hated her for being shameless and dragging my name through the mud. I also hated her because if it weren’t for her, Mom and Dad wouldn’t have tried to start a business, bought that store, only for it to fail and leave them bankrupt. Now she was back, selling the last tangible memory of our parents. After I cursed at her, she looked at me with a cold laugh. “Oh, believe me, I wanted to die, but I just couldn’t!” “Little girl, you want me dead? Well, I’m not going anywhere! Nobody wants you besides me, so you’d better behave, or I’ll throw you right back where you came from!” At her words, my ten-year-old face went white with fear. Even though I hated her, I knew I had no choice. Our relatives all thought my parents had left me a secret inheritance. They’d barely speak two sentences before telling me to check the bank. They weren’t truly good to me, but this sister, who was practically a stranger to me, didn’t seem much better. But I had no choice; she was my guardian. I took a long-distance train with her to a strange city and then moved into an apartment. It was her place, neatly kept, with men’s clothes and shoes scattered around. My room was upstairs, small, but still pretty nice. “You can do whatever you want normally, but if my boyfriend comes over, you have to stay in your room. Don’t come out and cause trouble for me!” I lowered my head and said nothing. My sister’s boyfriend was a middle-aged man with glasses. When he saw me, he smiled faintly. “So this is Brooke!” I nodded, quickly carried my glass of water upstairs, and shut the door. From his smile, I could tell he was distant. Just like the teachers at my old school. They’d nod and smile at me too, but their smiles never reached their eyes. It was as if I was just some insignificant little thing. As my mom used to say, “Some people have their noses so high in the air, we can never reach their level.” He was one of those people we couldn’t aspire to. Scarlett told me to call him Richard. He owned a trading company in the area and drove luxury cars. Richard would bring gifts for Scarlett when he visited, and snacks for me too. But he only stayed for a few hours, never overnight. I was enrolled in a nearby elementary school. Here, no one knew my sister was a mistress, but I was still scared. Scared someone would find out about Scarlett, scared I’d be mocked. This went on for two years. I started middle school, and during summer vacation, with nowhere else to go, Scarlett took me to her company. That’s when I found out she worked at Richard’s company. On my very first day, I was told that the plump lady in the office was Richard’s wife. In that moment, a chill ran through me. I hated Scarlett for bringing me there. Every time I ran into the boss’s wife, my heart would pound, terrified she’d call me a mistress’s kid. The boss’s wife, Victoria, would always call out to me when she saw me, “Brooke, come help me with this!” She’d ask me to carry her bag and offer me money, but I never dared to take it. I was afraid she’d take it back later, and even more afraid she’d call me shameless. Seeing me refuse the money, Victoria just patted my head. At the end of summer, she bought me two new outfits and even drove me to school herself on the first day. When I learned the school had dorms, I immediately applied.

Scarlett was a bit unhappy. “Our apartment is perfectly fine, why do you want to live at school?” “It’s easier to study. You work late, and you don’t come home on time every day. I get hungry.” That explanation silenced her, and she eventually agreed. But Richard was displeased. “Why live at school? Come back and play on the weekends!” His hand, a little too close for comfort, was about to land on my head when Victoria slapped it away. Fearing they’d argue, I quickly grabbed my backpack and ran inside. After that, I’d go back once a week. Scarlett’s apartment still kept a room for me. But gradually, more things started appearing in the room. I didn’t think much of it; I only slept there one night before going back to school, and it was her apartment anyway. Until a new student transferred to our class. She was from my old hometown. Seeing her, my heart filled with dread, but she still cornered me. “Brooke, it really is you! You and your sister came here?” “Is your sister still someone’s mistress?” After saying that, she deliberately clapped her hand over her mouth, feigning shock. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to! I really forgot!” All the other students looked over. In that instant, my blood rushed to my head. And the real culprit, Brittany, just stood there, smug and unafraid. “Oh, Brooke, don’t look at me like that, you’re scaring me!” Classmates crowded around. “Brittany, is that true? Is her sister really a mistress?” “Oh my god, I never would’ve guessed. No wonder she was dropped off in a fancy car on the first day of school!” “A mistress’s sister will probably become a mistress too!” I clenched my fists. Brittany continued, “Don’t say anything more, or she’ll just transfer schools again!” “After all, a mistress isn’t exactly a good person!” I looked up at her. “And what about you? Why did you transfer? In elementary school, you stole things and the principal made you apologize under the flag. Now you’ve transferred, could it be your old school couldn’t stand you anymore?” Brittany’s face suddenly changed. “Brooke, what’s so great about you? Your sister has stolen more than just one! And you? You’re probably your sister’s kid!” “What are you talking about?!” “Everyone says you’re your sister’s little… bastard!” The words had barely left her mouth when I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged at her, slapped her, grabbed her hair, and fought like my life depended on it! Eventually, the teacher separated us. “Brooke! Brittany, what are you doing?!” “Teacher, she hit me first!” Brittany was crying hysterically. I wiped a streak of blood from my face and said coldly, “Teacher, she has a nasty mouth!” I stared fiercely at Brittany. She stopped crying, but eventually, parents were called. Brittany’s mom arrived, looking at me with disdain. “Brooke! You little stray, how dare you hit my daughter!” “Mom, she hurt me so much!” Brittany shrieked. “Mom, hit her! Kill her!” I didn’t get angry; instead, I laughed. “You know I don’t have a mom anymore, just a sister. And she’s a mistress, so technically, I have nothing!” Brittany froze for a moment. Her mom’s face went from pale to flushed with anger, finally roaring, “No matter what, you have to apologize!” My sister didn’t come. Victoria did. After hearing what happened, Victoria pointed at Brittany. “You apologize first! Who told you to be so foul-mouthed?! Calling my little sister a mistress’s bastard, huh?!” “I’m calling the police right now to report you for defamation! Do you have any proof? If not, I’ll sue you into oblivion!”

Brittany’s face was beyond awful. She was finally forced to apologize. Brittany’s mom’s face was green with rage, clearly not expecting me to have backup here. She shot me a venomous glare, then fiercely pinched Brittany’s arm, cursing her for being useless! I said nothing, just went back to class. Victoria patted my shoulder. “Don’t overthink it, Brooke. Your sister, she’s had it rough, but she’s definitely not a bad person.” I didn’t reply. Back in class, my classmates’ gazes were different, but I didn’t care. When Brittany returned, she glared at me. I glared back and said loudly, “Brittany, if I hear any rumors about me in this class again, I’ll report you to the police for spreading gossip!” Brittany buried her face on her desk and cried. I felt incredibly satisfied. Yeah, they all said my sister was a mistress. Where was the proof? Without proof, who dared to talk nonsense? My fierceness, coupled with Brittany’s crying, made the other students back off. Instead, Brittany was branded a thief and could never shake the label. That weekend, when I returned home from school, Scarlett was there. I noticed some baby clothes and a cradle in the apartment, and Scarlett’s belly was big. Seeing me, she waved. “Come here quickly, look at your little nephew!” I clenched my fists. The secret I’d guarded for two years at school was just shattered by her own hand. And here I was, threatening Brittany, telling her to produce proof if she claimed my sister was a mistress. But the moment I saw Scarlett with her big belly, I felt like a complete joke. My legs felt like lead, but I managed to shuffle closer, staring at her. “Why did you become a mistress? Why did you have an illegitimate child?” As soon as I asked, Scarlett’s lips trembled. She couldn’t speak for a long time. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and ran out. Scarlett called after me, “Brooke! Get back here!” I screamed back, frantic, “I’m not coming back! I don’t have a sister like you!” I missed Mom and Dad. When they were alive, they often told me how smart Scarlett was, then complained they were useless and couldn’t provide for her, which was why she ran off. But why did she come back? And not just come back, but bring me here, to witness her degradation and sin firsthand. I felt utterly disgusted! I went back to school and never returned home. Scarlett learned through my homeroom teacher that I was back at school. She didn’t say anything but asked the teacher to transfer my living expenses to me. I wanted to stubbornly refuse, but I couldn’t. At the end of the semester, I stood at the school gate with my luggage, and again, it was Victoria who came to pick me up. She pulled me into the car, trying to speak several times but hesitating. I could tell this wasn’t the way home. Judging by the time, Scarlett should be close to giving birth. Victoria sighed. “Brooke, I’m taking you to see your sister.” At her words, I looked up at her, finally asking the question, “Don’t you hate her? She destroyed your family. She’s a mistress.” Victoria patted me. “Silly girl, she’s not a mistress at all. Your sister is the most sensible child. She’s not a home-wrecker. You’ll understand when you see her.” I didn’t want to see her, but Victoria drove me straight to the hospital. My heart sank! Had Scarlett given birth? But Richard and Victoria were married… their relationship was confusing me. When I followed Victoria into the hospital room, I found Scarlett lying in bed, her belly still swollen, her face sallow. Seeing this, my mind went blank! It was as if everything suddenly made sense.

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On Lily’s fifth birthday, Brandon sent her the LEGO castle she’d been dreaming of. The very next day, Lily cried and asked me, “Mommy, where did the princess from my castle go?” I turned to Brandon Miller. He casually snuffed out his cigarette, his tone flat. “She probably lost it herself. I’ll just buy her another one.” But an hour later, I scrolled through Chloe Smith’s Instagram–the company’s top sales performer. She’d clipped that limited-edition princess figurine to her car keys, with a caption: 【My Mr. B.M. says I’m his runaway princess, and even the castle’s owner has to make way for me.】 B.M. was the abbreviation of my husband’s name. I didn’t make a scene. I simply commented under her post: “So beautiful. Too bad it’s a limited edition, you can’t buy it anymore.” Lily cried herself to sleep, and I carried her back to her room. In her tiny hand, she still clutched the castle flag, barren of its princess. After tucking her in, I walked into my study. Chloe Smith’s Instagram ID was【Chloe, The Knight’s Princess】. I scrolled back through her profile, inch by agonizing inch. The car key in that picture was a Bentley. I switched to the company’s internal system. Two months ago, a procurement order for over three million dollars had been approved by none other than Brandon. The listed purpose was “High-End Client Hospitality Vehicle.” I pulled up the car’s usage records. The backend data showed it had never hosted a single client. Every trip pointed to Brandon’s private apartment, and the street below Chloe Smith’s building. I took a deep breath and continued to browse Chloe Smith’s profile. 【My new bag. Mr. B.M. says it perfectly suits my style.】 The photo showed the latest Hermès model, with the floor-to-ceiling windows of our marital home in the background. That day, Brandon had told me he was meeting an important investor. 【Staying up all night for his meeting, I’m exhausted. Good thing he made me some nourishing, special broth himself.】 The picture was a selfie of her wearing a face mask. The sofa in the background was an Italian import brand I had personally chosen. That day, Lily had a high fever. I called him, and he said he was out of town on a business trip and couldn’t come back. So, his “important investor,” his “business trip out of town,” it was all just her. I stared at the screen, my heart growing colder by the second. The study door creaked open. Brandon walked in, smelling of a shower and carrying an air of fatigue. He glanced at Lily, sleeping soundly in her bed, and his brows furrowed slightly. “That child is really spoiled rotten by you. It’s just a plastic figurine, isn’t it? Does she really need to cry like this?” I looked up, silently meeting his gaze. This was the man who, in a leaky rented apartment, had once vowed to build our daughter a real castle. Brandon walked over, instinctively reaching to put his arm around my shoulder, but I subtly shifted my body, avoiding his touch. I said flatly, “Yes, just a piece of cheap plastic. Worthless.” “Might as well throw it away.” Brandon visibly relaxed. “That’s the best way to think about it. Go to bed early, we have a meeting tomorrow.” He turned and walked into the bedroom, without another glance at Lily. I watched his retreating back, then slowly pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside were the latest group equity documents, detailing the capital I held as the largest individual shareholder. Brandon, since you want to lose this family so badly. Then I’ll make sure you lose the very ground you stand on in this city.

The next day, I arrived at the company promptly. Passing the CEO’s office, I saw Brandon leisurely sipping coffee through the frosted glass. I didn’t stop, heading straight for the finance department. “Good morning, Ms. Miller.” The Finance Director immediately stood up when she saw me. “Pull up all original contracts from the sales department for the past three months, along with their corresponding transaction records.” My voice was ice-cold. “All of them?” Ms. Davis seemed surprised but complied immediately. Half an hour later, mountains of documents were delivered to my office. I asked my assistant, Sarah, to brew the strongest black coffee, closed the door, and began to scrutinize each one. Chloe Smith, as the “sales champion” for two consecutive quarters, her performance data was suspiciously perfect. I pulled out all her contracts. Soon, I found the problem. Three of her largest clients accounted for seventy percent of her total performance. And all three companies were registered in the Cayman Islands. The contract terms were absurdly lenient, with almost no binding power. The upfront payment ratio was as low as 5%, but the collection period stretched to a year. Even the breach-of-contract clauses were vague and ambiguous. This wasn’t doing business; this was a classic case of illicit fund transfers. Brandon was using company money to plug the hole left by Chloe Smith’s brother’s failed overseas investments. Then, through fake trade, he laundered this money, turning it into Chloe Smith’s seemingly legitimate sales commissions. What a sophisticated scheme. I picked up the internal phone: “Send out a notice. The entire sales department is to conduct a quarterly compliance self-audit.” Hanging up, I took Sarah and walked directly to the sales department. Chloe Smith was sitting at her most prominent workstation, touching up her lipstick in a small mirror. The Bentley car key, with the limited-edition princess LEGO dangling from it, was carelessly tossed on her desk, as if she was afraid no one would see it. Several young sales assistants were gathered around her, calling her “Chloe.” “Chloe, your keychain is so unique, limited edition, right?” “Of course, that’s called taste, not everyone understands it.” She looked smug, basking in being the center of attention. When I walked in, everyone immediately fell silent and stood up. Only she remained firmly seated, not even changing her posture. She even deliberately raised her hand, picked up the car keys, and twirled them carelessly between her fingers. Her eyes held blatant provocation. The air instantly solidified. Everyone held their breath, feeling the silent, tense atmosphere. Chloe Smith spoke first. “Ms. Miller, here to inspect our work?” She dangled the keys. “This little thing, isn’t it cute? It’s a limited edition, you know.” “Only those who truly appreciate its value deserve to own it.” A faint curve appeared on my lips, but the smile didn’t reach my eyes. “Taste?” I spoke slowly, my voice clear and cold. “Only someone so small-minded would consider a piece of industrial plastic, costing mere dollars, a rare treasure to flaunt everywhere.” “It seems Supervisor Smith’s aspirations extend no further than that.” Her face instantly turned pale. I took two steps forward, stopping in front of her, looking down. “As for deserving it or not…” I leaned in slightly, whispering into her ear, “You picked up my discarded trash, and instead of being ashamed, you wear it like a badge of honor.” “Since you love it so much, it’s yours.” “After all, trash belongs in the trash can.” She tried to say something else, but I straightened up and walked directly to the bulletin board. Slap. I pinned the freshly printed notice right in the middle of the board. “Everyone, take a good look, and think about whether the contracts in your hands can withstand scrutiny.” Chloe stared at the notice, a flicker of panic in her eyes. Then she composed herself, a defiant confidence settling over her. I returned to my office and immediately called the Legal Director, Mr. Johnson. “Initiate a top-tier investigation procedure. Contact our partnered external audit team.” “Remember, keep it confidential.” My phone vibrated. It was a SnapChat message from Brandon: “Honey, what are you doing? Are you okay?” I stared at the words on the screen and typed a reply. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m preparing a gift for you.”

That evening, when I opened the door to our house, I was greeted by the scent of roses. Brandon, wearing an apron, carried the last dish from the kitchen, a wide smile on his face. “Honey, you’re back? Come wash up and eat, tonight it’s all your favorite dishes.” The scene felt like a lifetime ago. The last time he cooked for me was when we first moved into this house. He said he wanted me to always be the happiest princess in this home. Now, it felt like a bitter irony. Lily had already been tucked into bed by the nanny. At the dining table, candlelight flickered, and red wine offered a soft glow. Brandon constantly served me food, showering me with sweet words. “Honey, I heard about what happened today. Chloe was out of line, but don’t let her bother you. I’ve already reprimanded her.” “You’ve worked so hard for the company, you must be exhausted.” I sneered inwardly, but my face remained impassive as I quietly ate my dinner. After a few rounds of drinks, he finally cut to the chase. “Honey, about our house… should we sell it?” Here it comes. I put down my forks and looked at him. He immediately explained: “Don’t misunderstand! I just think this house is a bit far from the elementary school Lily will attend. We could get a spacious apartment in a better school district, as… compensation for you and Lily.” His reasons were high-sounding and seemingly sincere. If I hadn’t just seen those illicit transaction records, I might have been moved for a moment. Chloe’s idiotic brother had suffered a margin call in his overseas cryptocurrency investments, losing a staggering thirty million dollars. Brandon’s embezzlement of company funds was a mere drop in the bucket. He desperately needed a massive cash flow to fill this bottomless pit. And our house, bought outright before our marriage and now appreciated almost fivefold, was his last resort. I looked into his hopeful eyes, a churning, sickening feeling rising in my stomach. I watched him silently for a few seconds. Then, my eyes slowly reddened. “Brandon…” My voice carried a hint of a tremor and feigned emotion. “I thought… you no longer cared about Lily and me.” “You’re finally considering our daughter’s future.” Brandon sighed, a look of faux regret on his face. “How could you think that? You and Lily are all I want to protect.” He pulled a pre-prepared “Letter of Intent to Sell” from his briefcase. “Honey, look, I’ve already found a buyer. The price is a bit lower than market value, but the advantage is a quick sale, and we can move into our new home sooner.” I took the letter of intent. The buyer’s name was unfamiliar, but I knew the company listed below it very well. It was one of the domestic affiliates of those three overseas shell companies. He was trying to use a shady internal transfer, a left-hand-to-right-hand scheme, to quickly convert this marital asset into cash he could freely control. To cash out, he was even willing to sell for twenty percent below market price. He truly… was insane. “Nicole, sign it.” Brandon pressed the pen into my hand. “For our daughter, for our future mansion.” I let him hold my hand, leaning into his embrace, and pleaded coquettishly with a tearful voice. “Brandon, you’re so good to me… I’ll sign, of course I’ll sign.” “But…” I abruptly changed my tone. “Brandon, I heard from finance that property transaction taxes are very high right now. This direct transaction might not be very cost-effective for us.” I looked up. “Let’s sign a supplementary agreement to do some tax planning; we could save millions.” As I spoke, I pulled another document from my bag. The document was filled with complex financial jargon and regulatory clauses, enough to make any layman dizzy. But at its core, there was only one condition: The sale proceeds must be deposited into a joint escrow account I designated, and he would bear unlimited joint liability. Brandon’s mind was fixated on the thirty million dollars he was about to get; he wouldn’t bother to scrutinize these unintelligible terms. He quickly flipped through a couple of pages, and seeing my sincere expression, he didn’t suspect a thing. “My wife always thinks of everything!” He picked up the pen and, with a grand flourish, signed his name at the end of the supplementary agreement. That night, Brandon was so excited he barely slept. He stood on the balcony, speaking in hushed tones, calling Chloe over and over again on his phone. “Baby, she signed it!” “Soon, we’ll have the money! You won’t have to suffer anymore!” “Once this money hits my account, I’ll split with her amicably.” I lay in bed, quietly listening to the dirty sweet nothings drifting in from the balcony. My heart sneered.

Monday, Group Senior Management Strategy Meeting. Halfway through the agenda, it was my turn to speak as CFO. I stood up, surveying the executives in the conference room. Then, I dropped a bombshell. “I propose that the Group officially initiate preparations for an IPO.” As soon as I finished speaking, the entire room erupted. “To incentivize core team members who make outstanding contributions during the IPO preparation process, I, personally, am willing to allocate 5% of my original shares as an equity incentive pool.” This time, even the seasoned executives in the room, those old foxes who had weathered many storms, gasped sharply. These weren’t stock options; these were genuine, hard-cash original shares! Once the company successfully went public, these 5% of shares would be worth at least nine figures. I deliberately turned my gaze to Brandon, my voice gentle and sincere. “Brandon, the company wouldn’t be where it is today without your invaluable contributions. But going public is a tough battle, and we need our most competitive employees leading the charge.” “Therefore, these shares must be awarded to the individual or team with the greatest overall contribution this year.” Brandon instantly grasped my “deeper meaning.” He slammed his hand on the table, declaring, “I fully support Ms.Miller’s proposal! This demonstrates our company’s open and inclusive culture! We must attract talent without sticking to conventions!” He even added, with a veiled implication, “Supervisor Chloe Smith of the sales department, her performance this year is clear for all to see, and she is a role model for all our employees!” In the conference room, several informed senior shareholders looked at me with complex expressions. After the meeting, Brandon, almost impatiently, called Chloe into his office. On my office computer, hidden surveillance footage clearly showed everything. The moment the door closed, Chloe excitedly lunged into Brandon’s arms. The two of them passionately kissed by the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, oblivious to the world. “Baby! Did you hear that? 5% of the shares! Once we get them, we’re getting married!” “Brandon, you’re amazing! I knew you were the best!” Chloe even excitedly pulled out her phone, opened the calculator, and started tapping away, calculating how many millions 5% of the shares would be worth at different market capitalizations. Her money-obsessed appearance was both laughable and pathetic. They probably forgot. Any company initiating an IPO must undergo the most rigorous and comprehensive due diligence and financial audit. And I had brought in the nation’s top third-party audit team, with the lead auditor being my best friend from college. The Group held its equity incentive conference at the city’s seven-star hotel. Below the stage sat all company employees, important investor representatives, and journalists from over a dozen mainstream financial media outlets. Brandon, resplendent in a bespoke suit, stood on the center of the stage, looking radiant. He held the microphone, his voice filled with magnetic charm and feigned emotion. “Today, we are not only embarking on a new chapter for our Group, but also honoring a hero who has made immense contributions to our company.” “With her talent and hard work, she has created unprecedented miracles in the sales department!” “I announce that the recipient of this year’s Special Contribution Incentive Shares is – Sales Department Director, Ms. Chloe Smith!” As his words fell, a spotlight instantly shone on one side of the stage. Chloe Smith, wearing a white gown that resembled a wedding dress, slowly walked onto the stage. As she reached Brandon’s side, she even gave him a shy, loving glance. Brandon picked up a large crystal display board symbolizing the 5% shares, preparing to personally hand it to her. Below the stage, flashbulbs flickered wildly. And I, watching the ‘perfect couple’ on stage, gently pressed a button in my hand. The PPT, which had been showcasing the Group’s glorious achievements, suddenly flickered. It was replaced by a high-definition screen recording video from a phone. The video played automatically, revealing Chloe’s Instagram profile. I smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Smith, for your immense special contributions to my husband.”

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Three days after giving birth, I finally got my massive payout. During my labor, my husband, Liam, was busy having a blast with his mistress on a private island. On the third day, he finally came home to see our baby: “The little guy’s tougher than I thought. Oh, and by the way, that time you almost miscarried? It was because I touched you right after being with her, without washing up, and you caught an infection.” I stared at him in disbelief, but he just kept going: “Don’t get your panties in a twist. The baby’s healthy, isn’t he? Those other women don’t threaten your position.” Watching him walk away, I didn’t scream or cry this time. I already had fifty-two million dollars in compensation. I could finally get my divorce in peace. Liam pushed his phone towards me, a cruel, knowing smirk playing on his lips, barely contained. The screen showed a photo of my shocked face from just moments ago, when he’d told me he’d infected me. My swollen eyes and sallow face were magnified countless times across the horizontal display. I instinctively reached to snatch the phone and delete the picture. He quickly pulled it away. “It wasn’t easy to snap that shot. I told her I’d send her your face when you heard the news.” “She’s been fuming ever since you had our son, hasn’t let me touch her for three days. What else could I do? I had to use you to cheer her up.” His flippant expression felt like a knife, slowly slicing away at my dignity. He talked about his affairs with such casual indifference, like he was just discussing what to have for dinner tomorrow. The man who’d promised to love only me forever on our wedding day had finally, completely shattered his vows. A “ding-dong” chime. His special notification for her went off. Brittany saw me and gasped dramatically: “Wow, Scarlett, you look terrible! Giving birth really does make women ugly. I’m never having kids!” “I’m serious, you have to use protection with me from now on! I refuse to turn into some haggard old housewife!” His eyes crinkled in a smile. There was no trace of the anger he’d shown the first time he’d heard a girl mock me for being too plain for him. “Of course. The family heir is taken care of. You, my little side piece, just need to keep me happy outside the home.” “You’re not mad anymore, are you? Let’s review that position we tried last time. Go get clean and put on that sheer outfit for me, waiting in the bedroom!” Beep! The voice message ended. He switched off his phone, still savoring the moment. Looking at my reddened eyes, he chuckled and pinched my cheek. “Yeah, a bit saggy. Alright, it’s not the first time you’ve heard me flirting with her. What’s there to be sad about? She’s just a distraction. Once the novelty wears off, I’ll move on. You have the child, no one can shake your position. Just get over it.” With that, he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled away. He said it so casually, yet for two years, his “novelty” had never ended. My “unshakeable position” felt like an identity anyone could challenge. Ten minutes later, a debit notification from the pharmacy popped up on my phone. Purchased item: three boxes of strawberry-flavored ultra-thin condoms. Immediately after, he sent me a message. [The pharmacy fund is almost depleted. I’ve been using it a lot lately. Remember to top it up.] Looking at that almost provocative message, I no longer felt the fiery rage and impulse I’d had the first time I got a debit notification for contraceptives, rushing to crash his little rendezvous. I simply ordered five more boxes for delivery to Brittany’s address. Half an hour later, two million dollars appeared in my account as a ‘reward’. The total was now exactly fifty-two million. I calmly screenshotted the transaction history and sent it to Eleanor, Liam’s mother, who was abroad handling private matters. [The money’s enough. Please expedite the divorce papers.]

The first time I received a ‘compensation’ transfer from Liam was when I accidentally saw his flirtatious messages with his secretary. I argued with him, I screamed, and he accidentally pushed me to the ground, causing a miscarriage. That night, he transferred all his assets to me, knelt, and begged me for another chance. I didn’t take them. I just told him. “From now on, every time you betray me, you transfer two million to me. When it reaches fifty-two million, I’ll leave you for good!” He thought I was just saying it in a fit of pique, joking. What I didn’t tell him was that his mother, Eleanor, had begged me not to divorce him even before he did. Back when he married me, he’d settled tens of millions in gambling debts for my terminally ill, deadbeat father. Eleanor had said I couldn’t divorce him until the debt he’d cleared was essentially ‘paid back’ to the family. Until then, she insisted I had no right to leave. I knew she wasn’t actually trying to make me repay the money. She just wanted to use me to keep her son, who’d inherited his father’s philandering ways, tied down. When I first found out I was pregnant, I considered aborting the baby several times. But then he suddenly came back to the family, doting on me just like in our dating days, saying he wanted a home. By the fifth month, he knew the baby was too far along for an abortion, so his old habits resurfaced. After I sent the message, I received a draft of the divorce agreement electronically. I breathed a sigh of relief. The day I was discharged from the hospital and transferred to the postpartum recovery center, Liam came to pick us up. The nurse, Brenda, sat in the back with Leo and a pile of baby supplies. I took my place in the passenger seat, a spot I hadn’t occupied in a long time. The seat was adjusted far back. My hand brushed against the seat adjuster and snagged on a ripped pair of pearl-studded lace panties. “That girl is just too wild, wants to try it everywhere.” He raised an eyebrow, watching me. He expected to see the wild, uncontrollable rage he was used to in my eyes. But I just dropped my hand expressionlessly, leaving the item where it was. He paused, then chuckled. “Your poker face is getting good lately. And you’ve become much more generous. Good thing you ordered those five extra boxes last time, otherwise, with her clinginess, they wouldn’t have been enough.” “You know, if you’d been this understanding earlier, we might have had our second child by now.” I didn’t reply, just quietly closed my eyes, resting. A moment later, that familiar phone ringtone sounded, and a faint sense of dread settled in my stomach. Sure enough, he slammed on the brakes, pulling the car onto a deserted shortcut lane. “You guys wait here. Brittany has a toothache, I’m taking her to the hospital first. I’ll be back for you guys soon.” He opened the car door, threw all our things onto the roadside, and roughly pulled me out in just a few quick movements. Whoosh! The car sped off. Meeting Brenda’s confused, angry gaze, I gritted my teeth against the incision pain and pointed to the car turning the corner nearby. “Take that one. It’s Eleanor’s car.” She looked at me, surprised. I managed a weak smile. A year ago, he’d abandoned me halfway, believing his words to ‘just wait’. During the dead of winter, I stubbornly waited until I was hypothermic and passed out from the cold. When I was finally taken to the hospital, he even blamed me for being stubborn, saying my emergency call had interrupted his time comforting Brittany. After that, I avoided riding in his car whenever possible. And if I did, I was always prepared to be abandoned at any moment. I was used to these ‘unexpected’ events by now. That evening, Liam, panting, tracked us down after returning to the original spot and not finding us. “Why didn’t you tell me you hailed a cab? I went back and looked for ages.” “I messaged you. You didn’t see it.” He instantly flared up. “Then why didn’t you call? I thought something had happened to you both.” I paused, then quickly regained my composure. “Didn’t you say not to bother you when you’re with Brittany?”

During my last prenatal check-up, our baby was misdiagnosed with Down syndrome. I was so terrified I could barely stand. When I called him, Brittany switched to video mode. She was wearing a tight nurse uniform, giggling provocatively. “Scarlett, Liam says if there’s something wrong, fix it, or just abort it. Calling him won’t help.” “We’re role-playing right now, too busy for you.” “And he said stop using these excuses to check up on him. If you like hearing his voice so much, he’ll record a lullaby for you to soothe your baby bump.” She hung up shortly after. Liam sent a message. [From now on, text me if you need anything. If I don’t reply, I’m with someone else. Stop calling and interrupting us.] He paused, a flicker of satisfaction on his face. “Finally listening, huh? Good, commendable. Though that time, I genuinely didn’t know it was about our son. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let her talk like that.” He pulled two necklaces from his pocket. One was a solid gold longevity charm for good luck for our son. But the moment he touched Leo, our son burst into tears, as if he couldn’t stand being near him. Blocked, Liam then offered the other necklace, a delicate piece with small diamonds, to me. “Here. I was at an auction with Brittany yesterday and saw this necklace. Thought it might suit you.” It was true he’d bought it at an auction. But I’d seen on Brittany’s Ins feed yesterday that it was a bonus gift that came with a two-million-dollar pink diamond, practically worthless on its own, not even a few hundred bucks. As he spoke, he reached to put the necklace around my neck. I flinched and pulled away. He frowned, annoyance in his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? I give you two compliments, and now you’re playing hard to get?” A wave of sarcasm washed over me. He always thought I could be won over by his occasional acts of kindness. “You misunderstand. I’m allergic to this kind of material.” His face stiffened. He seemed to have forgotten the millions he’d once spent to craft a gold diamond ring that wouldn’t irritate my skin. In the past, when I most desperately wanted him to change his mind, I’d accepted everything he gave me, even if I was allergic, even if it was uncomfortable. As long as he showed even a sliver of kindness. I would never contradict him. For that fading flicker of love, I’d humiliated myself beyond measure. In the end, it was all for nothing. After that day, he seemed to find a convenient excuse and stopped coming to see us. I was glad for the peace and quiet, focusing on my recovery, postpartum care, and playing with Leo. But on Ins, I often saw him with Brittany: one day on a Ferris wheel, the next shooting an advertisement. Mornings he’d cook for her, afternoons they’d check out trending restaurants. Sometimes, in the dead of night, there’d be posts about their exciting nightlife. Everyone at his company said she was his longest-standing mistress. They all speculated when he’d finally kick me, his loyal, long-suffering wife, out for her. Truth be told, from my fifth month of pregnancy until just before delivery, I’d brought up divorce countless times. But Liam refused. He didn’t want to give up the image of a perfect family. If he had truly agreed, I wouldn’t have minded being shown the door. The day before our divorce was finalized, it was Leo’s one-month celebration. Liam made a grand entrance with Brittany. He even arranged her seat right beside him, the seat reserved for the lady of the house. He held Leo, playfully teasing him for a while. Brittany leaned in, looking at the baby with him. “Hello,Leo. I’m your stepmom.” At her words, everyone present’s expression shifted. But Liam, before anyone could react, quickly smiled at me. “I forgot to tell you, Brittany’s prepared a gift for Leo. She’s going to be his godmother.” Brittany slipped a gold bracelet onto Leo’s wrist. She smiled sweetly at me. “I’ll help Scarlett take care of the baby from now on.” Listening to her provocative declaration, I gently pressed Eleanor’s hand, stopping her from reacting. I smiled faintly and took Leo from their arms. “A psychic recently said Leo’s aura was a bit too strong, and he needed a godparent to balance it out and ward off bad luck.” “Brittany, you truly are a saint, saving me so much trouble. I’ll accept the gift, thank you.” Both their faces instantly fell. Brittany’s eyes welled up, her voice choked. “It’s okay, Scarlett. It’s my honor to do something for Liam’s child. Warding off bad luck? I’d even die for him.” “Perhaps it’s best if I, a harbinger of bad luck, just leave now, before I spread my misfortune to everyone.” With that, she cast a tearful glance at Liam, grabbed her bag, and started to leave. Liam glared at me, displeased, and made to go after her. Eleanor grabbed his sleeve, her eyes sharp. “Today is your son’s one-month celebration. In front of all these people, you’re going to chase after a mistress? Do you want our family to be shamed forever?” He paused, about to speak, when I smiled at Eleanor. “Mom, let him go. Leo is the star of today.” She hesitated, then sighed. “Get out! If you ever bring these low-class women into our house again, don’t bother coming in yourself!” Liam’s gaze was probing, as if he expected to see the familiar clinginess and bitterness in my eyes that used to reassure him. But there was nothing. I looked away and toasted the guests with tea. The one-month celebration wasn’t exactly dignified, but thankfully, Leo was too young to be sad. And I wasn’t sad either. Tomorrow, with the divorce papers, everything would be over. Eleanor took us to the old mansion to stay with her for one last night. Leo fell asleep on the sofa, and Eleanor went to get him a handmade cotton blanket. Suddenly, the heavy door of the old mansion slammed open. 4 Liam stormed in, carrying Brittany. “Scarlett! I truly underestimated you. Where’s that bracelet? Give it back! Do you know Brittany suddenly got a fever this afternoon, and then got into a car accident on the way to the hospital?” “I initially thought it was just a coincidence, but then I met a spiritualist collecting donations who told me you tampered with the bracelet, putting a curse of bad luck on her! How could you be so malicious?” Back when I was bleeding during my pregnancy and prayed for days for our child, he’d called me superstitious and old-fashioned. I scoffed. “Those were just words to provoke you both. You actually believed them? Where did this mystic come from, and how did you ‘just happen’ to meet him? Ask him which temple I supposedly put the curse in.” He was speechless, about to retort. Brittany, still sobbing, pulled out a bracelet and approached Leo. “It’s okay, maybe I just have a weak constitution and these things coincidentally happened. This is a blessed bracelet I got from a temple. I want to exchange it for that gold one.” I stepped sideways, blocking her. “I won’t take your item. I’ll return the bracelet to you tomorrow. Leo is asleep. Please leave now.” Liam glared at me. “Why can’t you give it to me now? What else do you plan to do with it?” I frowned, about to speak, when Liam suddenly scooped up the sleeping child. “What are you doing! Don’t touch him!” Brittany grabbed Leo’s arm, forcibly trying to take off the bracelet. “Scarlett, I’m doing this for your own good. No matter how much you hate me, you can’t use our child! What if… what if you persist in this delusion, and the bad karma falls on Leo? What will you do then?” “It’s better to take it off now.” Leo cried out, startled by the rough handling, and my heart clenched. I rushed over and slapped Brittany, sending her sprawling. “What nonsense are you talking about! I told you there’s nothing going on! You are not to touch my child!” She looked at Liam, tears streaming down her face. The next second, his eyes blazed red. He shoved me violently, sending me tumbling, and carelessly tossed Leo onto the sofa. Then, with agonizing care, he helped Brittany up. “We’re doing this to lessen the bad karma for you and the child! Look at you, acting like a lunatic!” The incision from my pain-free delivery hit the corner of the coffee table, a searing pain coursing through my body. But what chilled me more was his callousness towards his own flesh and blood. Eleanor, hearing the commotion, rushed over and helped me up. She picked up Leo, whose face was red from crying. Then, she slapped Liam across the face. “You animal! Even a wild animal protects its young, but you’re worse than your own heartless father! Abusing your son for some cheap mistress!” “You’ll regret this someday! Get out! Get out of my house, don’t disturb our final family moment!” “It was her first…” Liam’s previously dark eyes suddenly froze. He paused. “What do you mean, ‘final’?” But before he could finish, Brittany suddenly collapsed to the ground, unconscious. He instantly lost his composure and hurried to pick her up. As he turned to leave, he glanced back at me. A flicker of unease crossed his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow for the bracelet. Don’t try any tricks!” Eleanor, wiping away tears, slammed the door shut. The next morning, Mr. Davies, the butler, brought back our finalized divorce certificate. I didn’t disturb Eleanor. I placed the divorce certificate under the gold bracelet, inside the large box that once held the gold engagement ring Liam gave me. I put it in a prominent spot on the coffee table. Looking at Leo in his swaddling clothes, my voice was lighter than it had ever been. “Baby, let’s start a new life with Mama.” He suddenly grinned, his eyes curving into little crescents. Amidst his innocent, unburdened laughter, We boarded a plane to a new world.

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On the eve of my wedding, I overheard my fiancé’s wicked plan through the car’s dashcam. He said he was only marrying me to spite my ex. He planned to publicly call off our wedding during the broadcast to utterly destroy my reputation. He thought I was oblivious, still dreaming of becoming Mrs. Gerald. He had no idea I’d already replaced the ceremonial video file with that very recording, along with undeniable proof of his affairs. Caroline POV In seven days, I would marry Isaac. Our entire social circle buzzed with the same gossip: how I’d hit the jackpot, transforming from Floyd’s persistent admirer to Isaac’s cherished fiancée. Even I started to believe it. For years, Isaac had treated me like a treasure. He would drive across the city through a storm to bring me hot soup. He would postpone billion-dollar mergers to sit with me when I was unwell. He’d said, “Caroline, I’m going to give you a wedding for the century. The kind that silences every critic for good.” I believed him. Until ten minutes ago, when I received his text. “Honey, I had someone drop off the dashcam’s SD card. Could you grab the video of the fender bender for the insurance company?” This was followed by a voice message. “Thanks, babe. I’ll take you to that French restaurant tonight.” I smiled, typing “Okay” back, and inserted the card. The video was easy to find. After handling the accident, Isaac didn’t head to the office. Instead, he picked up two friends. I was about to close the file when a mocking laugh echoed from the speakers. “Isaac, that female driver was really checking you out. Caroline would be so jealous if she knew, right?” My hand, on the mouse, froze. I expected Isaac to defend me. “Jealous?” Isaac’s voice was cold, accompanied by the crisp click of a lighter. “Right now, all she can think about is being the most beautiful bride. She wouldn’t have time for jealousy.” My smile stiffened on my face. The conversation in the car continued, every word like a dagger. “Spending millions on this wedding just to spite Floyd, is it really worth it?” “What if Caroline clings to you afterward? You’ve been living together for four years, after all.” On the screen, Isaac exhaled a smoke ring, blurring his handsome profile. But it didn’t hide the coldness in his eyes. “A few million to see Floyd’s face fall flat? That’s a bargain.” He chuckled, as if discussing a worthless object. “On the wedding day, I’ll announce ‘game over’ in front of everyone.” “Floyd’s reaction will be priceless.” The car filled with the men’s crude laughter. “What about Caroline then? Getting dumped at the altar, live-streamed across the city – her life will be ruined, won’t it?” Isaac flicked his cigarette ash, indifferent. “It’s an adult game. If she’s stupid, who’s to blame?” The video cut abruptly. My study was deadly silent. I sat frozen in my chair, my blood turning to ice. So, those four years of deep affection were nothing but a meticulously planned deception. My stomach churned. I rushed to the bathroom, retching over the toilet, but nothing came up. Tears splashed onto the floor, and I fiercely wiped them away. Caroline, don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears. I splashed cold water on my face, looking at my pale reflection in the mirror. So, you want to play dirty? Fine, I’ll play along. I returned to my computer, my hands still trembling, but my eyes had grown cold. I backed up that five-minute recording of their car conversation, along with the accident video, to my cloud storage. Then, I only clipped the accident footage and sent it to the insurance specialist. My phone lit up with a message from Isaac: “Did you send the video? I’ll be back to pick you up soon. Wear that red dress tonight, you look gorgeous in it.” I stared at his familiar profile picture, my fingertips turning white from how hard I pressed them. Finally, I replied: “Sent.” Putting my phone down, I walked into my walk-in closet. The red dress hung in the most prominent spot, flown in from Paris by him last week. He’d said only my skin tone could pull off that shade of red. Memories flashed back to that stormy night four years ago. Floyd had thrown the birthday gift I’d made him into the trash, mocking me in front of everyone. “Caroline, do you not understand ‘no’? Just looking at you makes me sick.” Everyone laughed, and I felt like a pathetic clown. It was Isaac who emerged from the corner, draped his suit jacket over me, shielding me from those humiliating stares. “Come with me,” he’d said. “I’ll take you home.” That night, I thought he was my savior. Now I knew, all of it, every single thing, was a lie.

Caroline POV At 7 PM, Isaac arrived promptly to pick me up. He wore a deep gray custom suit, his tie the one I’d personally tied for him that morning. As soon as he got in the car, he leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Why are your hands so cold?” He held my hand, his brow furrowed, his eyes filled with concern. “Did you leave the study air conditioning on too high?” If I hadn’t heard that recording. I would have certainly believed myself to be the happiest woman in the world right then. I pulled my hand back, pretending to adjust my dress. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” Isaac didn’t suspect anything, smiling as he started the car. “Then let’s go, wouldn’t want my fiancée to starve.” The restaurant was on the top floor, offering a panoramic view of the city lights. As I cut my steak, I spoke casually. “Isaac.” “Hmm?” He smoothly swapped our plates, placing the neatly cut beef in front of me. “I ran into Austin today.” I watched his eyes, not missing a single flicker of expression. “He asked if I was nervous.” Isaac’s hand, mid-cut through the meat, paused. It lasted only a second, too brief to catch. Then he looked up, his smile perfect. “Don’t mind him. You just focus on being beautiful.” “He also said…” I tightened my grip on the knife and fork, my fingertips pressing hard. “Floyd’s back in the country recently, and he asked if that would make you awkward.” “Caroline.” Isaac put down his cutlery, reaching to cover my hand. His palm was warm, but his tone held an unyielding firmness. “Why bring that person up? I told you, we’re getting married. Everything from the past is over.” He looked at me, his eyes so deep with affection they could drown a person. “I only want you.” If that recording wasn’t still sitting in my cloud storage, I would have almost believed him again. “Right, it’s over.” I lowered my head, spearing a piece of beef and putting it in my mouth. Medium-rare, still a little bloody. It was premium quality, yet it tasted like sawdust in my mouth. “Oh, right.” Isaac seemed to remember something, pulling out a delicate velvet box and sliding it across the table to me. “I almost forgot, this is your pre-wedding gift.” I opened it. It was a sapphire necklace, deep in color and clearly very expensive. “Do you like it?” He looked at me expectantly. I gazed at the deep blue, suddenly recalling an Ins story Bethany had posted last month. The caption read: “Love this profound blue, but Isaac said it doesn’t suit me.” So, it didn’t suit her, and that’s why it came to me. Or perhaps, he bought two, and this was the leftover one? “I love it.” I closed the lid, curving my lips into a smile for him. “Must have been expensive, right?” “Spending money on you, any amount is worth it.” Isaac ruffled my hair, his eyes full of doting affection. I made an excuse to go to the restroom to touch up my makeup. Standing at the sink, I looked at the woman with perfect makeup in the mirror, forcing a smile that was uglier than a cry. If you want to play the doting fiancé, then I’ll help you out. I pulled out my phone and dialed my immigration lawyer. The call was answered immediately. “Miss Caroline, have you reached a decision?” I looked at my reflection, my voice chillingly calm. “Please reschedule my flight.” “To when?” “The morning of the wedding. Ten o’clock.” I hung up and reapplied my lipstick. Watching the vibrant red take shape, I felt my heart harden. Isaac. This last dinner, I will remember it well. When I returned to the table, Isaac was replying to messages. Seeing me, he quickly turned off his screen, smiling as he stood up. “Let’s go, home.” I linked my arm through his, feeling his muscles tense for a split second. “Okay, home.”

Caroline POV Five days before the wedding, Bethany arrived. Under the guise of helping with preparations, she brazenly moved into the Gerald estate. She was Isaac’s childhood friend. And in the circle, she was widely known as the woman Isaac truly loved. If not for the strong opposition from the Gerald family elders, the position of Mrs. Gerald would have been hers long ago. “Caroline, this evening gown is so beautiful.” Bethany stood in front of the fitting room mirror, wearing the red toast dress that was originally mine. The waist had been altered to be incredibly tight, accentuating her graceful figure. She twirled, looking at Isaac, who was seated on the sofa. “Isaac, don’t I look better than Caroline in red?” Isaac held a business magazine, not looking up. “Stop it, take it off. That’s for Caroline.” His tone was one of reproof, yet I couldn’t detect a hint of anger. Bethany pouted, reluctantly heading to the dressing room. “So stingy, I just wanted to try it on!” I sat nearby, sipping my tea, watching quietly. In the past, I would have been angry, would have argued with Isaac. Then Isaac would have patiently appeased me, saying I was narrow-minded, saying Bethany was just like a sister. Now, looking back, I realize how foolish I must have seemed. “Caroline, don’t mind her. Bethany’s just spoiled by me.” Isaac put down his magazine and reached for my hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll ask her to move out.” “It’s fine.” I avoided his hand, pouring him a cup of tea. “It’s lively with more people. Plus, there are plenty of rooms.” Isaac paused. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be so generous. Before, whenever Bethany appeared, all my defenses would go up. “You’re not mad?” He looked at me, testing the waters. “Why would I be mad?” I smiled. “She’s a friend, and she’ll be a frequent guest. Besides, it’s just a dress. If she likes it, let her wear it.” After all, I wasn’t planning on wearing that dress anyway. A flicker of surprise, then relief, crossed Isaac’s eyes. “Caroline, you’ve really changed. You’ve become more mature.” Mature? You all forced me to be mature. Just then, a sharp crash came from the dressing room. Followed by Bethany’s cry. “Oops!” Isaac’s expression shifted. He tossed the magazine aside and was already moving. So fast, I didn’t even react. At the dressing room door, Bethany was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by shattered ceramic pieces. It was a sculpture by a modern art master, which Isaac had paid a fortune for and gifted to me. “Isaac, I didn’t mean to…” Bethany’s eyes were red-rimmed, looking utterly pitiful. “I tripped, and I tried to catch the sculpture, but then…” Isaac didn’t even glance at the priceless artwork. He immediately knelt down, taking Bethany’s hand to check it. “Did you cut your hand? How can you be so clumsy?” “It hurts…” Bethany whined delicately. I stood a few feet away, watching the jarring scene. That sculpture, Isaac had once cherished it, saying it represented our unbreakable love. Now it was shattered into pieces, and he didn’t even bat an eye. “Caroline!” Isaac turned to me, his voice urgent. “Go get the first-aid kit, Bethany cut her hand.” I looked at him, unmoving. “What’s wrong?” He frowned, seemingly annoyed by my slow reaction. “Nothing.” I turned towards the cabinet, my voice calm. “It’s broken, so what? “It was old anyway. Time for a new one.” Isaac’s body stiffened. He seemed to infer something from my words, yet also seemed to miss everything. His attention was entirely focused on Bethany’s wound, which wasn’t even bleeding. I returned with the first-aid kit, placing it on the table. “You two can take your time. I’m tired, I’m going upstairs to rest.” As I turned to go upstairs, I heard Bethany whisper. “Isaac, is Caroline mad?” Isaac’s voice was irritable. “Don’t mind her. She was never this cold-hearted before.” I didn’t stop. Reaching the second-floor landing, I took out my phone and sent a message to the pet transport company: “Please add another pet transport ticket. I’m taking Buddy with me.”

Caroline POV Three days before the wedding, the jewelry company delivered the wedding rings. Isaac was on a video conference in his study, so he asked me to sign for them. I signed the receipt and took the heavy box into his study. He was listening to a subordinate’s report, his expression serious. Seeing me enter, his eyes softened instantly. He pointed to the corner of the desk, signaling me to put it down for now. I placed the box on the desk. As I turned, my elbow accidentally knocked over a stack of documents. They scattered across the floor, revealing a design blueprint hidden beneath. I bent down to pick them up. My movements paused the moment I saw the blueprint clearly. It was a rough sketch of a ring design. The main stone was a rare pink diamond, and the inside of the band was engraved with “Only One.” The date on it was half a month ago. The wedding ring I had just signed for, however, had a white diamond as the main stone and was engraved with the first initials of our names. Isaac took off his headphones and walked over. “What’s wrong?” He followed my gaze to the blueprint, his expression stiffening. He discreetly pulled it out and tucked it into a folder. “Nothing, just a discarded draft.” His tone was natural as he put an arm around my shoulder. “Did you try on the ring? Does it fit?” I looked at him and smiled. “Not yet. I’ll try it tonight.” At two in the morning, the person beside me was breathing steadily. I quietly got out of bed and walked into the study. I opened the safe; the password was my birthday. Inside, two identical dark blue boxes rested silently. I opened the one on the left. Inside was a pink diamond, engraved “Only One.” Dazzling. I opened the one on the right. A white diamond, engraved with our initials. Standard Isaac had once said, “Caroline, you are my only one.” It turned out this was the real “only one.” I took both rings out. And swapped their cases. I put the pink diamond into the box designated for the wedding, and the white diamond into the box that was originally meant for Bethany. After doing all that, I closed the safe. Back in the bedroom, Isaac rolled over, his arm instinctively reaching for me. I avoided his hand and lay on the edge of the bed. Moonlight spilled across the floor, lighting the calendar on the nightstand. A date was circled in red. Three more days until I could finally leave him.

Caroline POV Next, I started clearing out my belongings. My home was filled with all the gifts Isaac had given me over the past four years. Hermès bags, Cartier sets, limited edition high heels. Once, these were all proof of his affection. I contacted a luxury consignment store. Because of the sheer volume, they sent an appraiser directly to my home. “Mrs. Gerald, these bags are all brand new. Are you sure you want to sell them all?” The appraiser, wearing gloves, looked regretful. “Sell them.” I took a sip of coffee, my voice calm. “Transfer the money, the sooner the better.” Isaac returned just as several workers were moving boxes. The house was half-empty, feeling somewhat desolate. “What’s going on?” He frowned, looking at the empty walk-in closet. “I want to redecorate.” I walked over, helping him untie his tie. “Clear out all the old stuff. After we’re married, everything will be new. I want every corner of our home to be a fresh start.” Isaac paused. Then, a smile spread across his face. He probably thought I was hopelessly in love with him, wanting to completely bid farewell to the past and wholeheartedly become his wife. “Okay.” He took my hand and kissed my fingertips. “Whatever you want. As long as you’re happy, you can tear the house down.” I pointed to Buddy’s dog bed in the corner. “I sent Buddy to a pet hotel. It’s a bit messy here these days, and I didn’t want him to be disturbed.” Buddy was our golden retriever, whom Isaac usually doted on the most. “Whatever you say.” He didn’t show any suspicion, even looking a little touched. “Caroline, you’ve worked so hard for this home.” While Isaac was in the bathroom showering. My phone vibrated with a bank deposit notification. A long string of numbers, enough to buy a small apartment in London. I deleted the message and opened my private cloud storage. I scheduled the dashcam video to be sent at a specific time. The recipient was the wedding control center. The send time was 10 AM on the wedding day. After doing all this, the sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Isaac emerged, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping. “Honey, could you grab my pajamas?” I handed them to him. As he took them, he pulled me into his arms, his voice a little husky. “The wedding’s in two days. Nervous?” I leaned against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. “Not nervous,” I said. “I’m very much looking forward to it.” I’m very much looking forward to how surprised you’ll be when you see the grand gift I’m giving you.

Caroline POV It was the day before the wedding. I went to the wedding planner’s office to confirm the final details. As I stepped out of the elevator, someone blocked my way. Floyd leaned against the corridor wall, a cigarette held between his fingers. Through the haze of smoke, his face was as cold and arrogant as ever. “Caroline, you actually dare to marry him.” He flicked his cigarette ash, looking at me as if I were an idiot. “Do you really believe Isaac would change for you?” I stopped, looking at the man I had chased for seven years. Once, I would have waited in a snowstorm for three hours just to see him. Now, looking at him, my heart was surprisingly calm. “Mr. Floyd, do you have any advice?” “Isaac is playing you.” Floyd sneered, taking a step closer. “He’s been battling me for years; marrying you is just to spite me. Believe it or not, the moment the wedding is over, you’ll be nothing but a discarded pawn.” He was right. Unfortunately, he was too late. “So what?” I looked at him, a playful smile on my lips. “Are you feeling sorry for me, Floyd? Or do you just miss me?” Floyd’s face changed, as if he’d heard a joke. “Caroline, don’t get ahead of yourself. I just don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself, and then come crying to me.” “Don’t worry.” I smoothed my wind-blown hair. “Even if I were dying, I wouldn’t beg you.” Floyd’s face darkened. “You’re truly ungrateful.” I walked past him, heading for the elevator. As I brushed past, I stopped and turned my head to look at him. “Floyd, make sure to sit in the front row tomorrow.” I smiled, my voice soft. “After all, this show wouldn’t be as exciting without an audience like you.” Floyd looked at me, brow furrowed. For the first time, his eyes held a flicker of confusion and something unreadable. The elevator doors closed, severing his gaze. My phone rang. It was Isaac. “Caroline, where are you? The planner says there’s a schedule change. They need us for a rehearsal.” I stared at the vibrating screen. A change? So they’re swapping out our memory slideshow for something else. “Okay, I’m downstairs.” I answered, my voice gentle. “I’ll be right up.”

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I’m a breakup expert. My specialty? Helping people cut ties and escape those toxic, dead-end relationships that just won’t quit. Today, a beautiful young woman walked into my office. “I want to place an order for my boyfriend,” she said, her voice soft. “He’s decided to divorce his wife.” I picked up the client file, but my hand froze when I saw the name: Daniel Miller, my husband. My hand trembled slightly, but the girl across from me, her head bowed, kept talking. “My boyfriend says his wife is a good person, so he doesn’t want to hurt her.” I forced a smile, staring at Daniel’s familiar face in the file. A bitter laugh bubbled up inside me. Three years as a breakup expert, and I’d finally landed my own case. 1 I set the file down, letting my gaze sweep over the girl. She wasn’t as striking as I was. Just ordinary. Pleasant enough. A slim frame, no children yet. Not much life experience, but clearly well-educated. When she called herself the ‘other woman,’ her eyes darted away with a flicker of awkwardness. “Ms. Chloe,” she began, “do you have any good ideas for my situation?” “My boyfriend said it would be best if his wife just decided to divorce him on her own. After all, they’ve been together for so long, and it would just be so awkward.” She pursed her lips, a shy, almost innocent smile blooming on her face. If I hadn’t been certain she didn’t recognize me, I might’ve thought she was deliberately taunting me. I twitched my lips into a professional smile. “Ms. Ashley,” I said, “how long have you two been together?” She paused, caught off guard. “What?” I raised my voice slightly. “Before I can give you a plan, I need to understand every detail of your relationship.” She nodded, understanding dawning on her face, her voice as clear as a meadowlark’s. With every word she spoke, my smile vanished a little more. “I’ve been with my boyfriend for three years. We met at the hospital.” “His family member was having a serious surgery that day, and he was so scared. He was smoking in the hallway, and I just happened to pass by and comfort him a bit…” She gave another bashful smile, her cheeks flushing. “And that’s how we met. Less than a week later, he confessed his feelings to me.” Listening to her sweet memories, my heart gave a sharp, painful jolt. “Did you meet on this exact day?” “Yes! How did you know?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. I just smiled, my lowered eyelashes trembling. Of course, I knew. Because three years ago today, I was giving birth to Daniel Miller’s first child at the city hospital. Calculating the time, they must have met while I was on the operating table. Difficult labor. C-section. I fainted three times. The memories now became a consuming poison, burning through me. I drew a slow, silent breath before asking the next question. “Do you know he has a child? She’s three. Just started kindergarten.” “I know, so?” Her earlier shyness evaporated into a careless shrug. “He already promised me that once the divorce is final, I’ll be Lily’s stepmother.” “The kid’s still young. Doesn’t really know what’s what. After a while, she’ll accept anyone as her mom, right?” “Ms. Chloe, don’t you agree?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the file. I nodded, my voice flat. “Yes, you’re right.” What a shame you’ll never get the chance. Receiving my affirmation, Ashley completely relaxed and continued to gloat. “Oh, and he showed me pictures of his wife. She has this long scar on her belly, it’s totally disgusting.” “He told me himself that every time he sees that scar on her stomach, he feels sick to his stomach.” Ashley suddenly looked at me, a curious glint in her eyes. “Ms. Chloe, what do you think that woman is thinking? Her stomach is so ugly, but she’s still clinging to her man. Is she just desperate for love?” She chuckled, a self-satisfied sound. I laughed too, but my eyes were chillingly cold. “Is it possible,” I asked, my voice dangerously soft, “that his original wife never knew any of this?” Ashley raised an eyebrow, her tone absolutely decisive. “No way!” “Daniel has a physical aversion to her. Unless she’s an idiot, there’s no way she wouldn’t have noticed.” “Ms. Chloe, you don’t know, but he’s so passionate with me in bed. He says he has no interest in that old hag at home and was just cooped up and frustrated. Ms. Chloe, wouldn’t you think it’s strange if you hadn’t had intimacy for three years?” “Strange,” I replied promptly, my eyes numb, fixed on the wedding ring I’d worn on my ring finger for four years. Daniel and I, we came from different worlds. But we went from campus sweethearts to marriage, a full eight years. When I was sick, he’d be frantic, once jumping out of his dorm window in the middle of the night to bring me medicine. When I was sad, he’d run eight blocks to buy me my favorite chocolates just to make me smile. During my pregnancy and childbirth, he never missed a single prenatal check-up. Every time he came home, he’d hug Lily and me first, telling us we were his most beloved family. Even these past two years, when we hadn’t shared a bed, he’d just soothe me, saying, “Chloe, you went through so much when Lily was born. I don’t want you to experience that again.” I thought that as a marriage progressed, it would naturally settle into a comfortable routine. How could I have imagined that he wasn’t just not wanting it anymore, but that he was getting his fill elsewhere? A chill spread from my feet, creeping into my bones. I asked my last question. “What are your divorce demands? Just for his wife to initiate the divorce?” Ashley shook her head. “Of course not! And you absolutely cannot let his wife find out my boyfriend cheated.” “You know, even though Daniel married into her family and got a leg up, he really worked hard to build his own empire.” “He’s been through so much. If his wife found out he cheated, she definitely wouldn’t let him go.” I squeezed my fingers, saying nothing. Ashley, still worried, reiterated her requests, finally adding, “Ms. Chloe, I know you’re the best breakup expert in the city. I’m really counting on you with my boyfriend and me.” I nodded, smiling as I agreed. “Don’t worry.” After she left, I immediately called my best friend, Jake. “Get your best detective and lawyer on the phone. I want to know everything Daniel has been up to for the past three years.” “Oh, and tell my dad too. Daniel cheated. Pull all investments from his company. Now.” “I want to see what he’s left with when he’s completely on his own.” 2 Jake, my best friend and business partner, was as efficient as ever. In less than half a day, he dropped a 128GB flash drive onto my desk. “Take a look, it’s all here.” I plugged in the drive and clicked open the first file. The first video, seemingly filmed in a high-end restaurant, showed Daniel, impeccably dressed in a black suit, looking every bit the charming gentleman, presenting 9,999 Bulgarian roses to the woman across from him. Just three months ago, for my birthday, Daniel claimed he was working late and came home with a single five-dollar rose he’d picked up from a street vendor. The second video was security footage from a mall. Daniel had his arm wrapped around Ashley’s waist, shopping lavishly in a luxury store. Designer clothes, jewelry, accessories-shopping bags piled up at Ashley’s feet. They looked sickeningly sweet, the kind that made your teeth ache. The cheap little keychain the sales associate gave them as a freebie at checkout? That was the birthday gift he brought home for Lily. I exited the file, my face expressionless, and opened the next one. Daniel’s bank statements from the past three years. Numerous large sums of money frequently transferred between several accounts, accumulating into a colossal amount that made my chest tighten. It all funneled into a private account ending in 776

The account holder. Ashley. He was secretly transferring assets, all under the guise of ‘consulting fees.’ Did he really think I wouldn’t notice such a crude trick? The coldness in my heart solidified. I clicked on the next file. It was a transcript of chat messages with Lily’s kindergarten teacher. In the screenshots, Ashley, using the name “Lily’s Mom,” repeatedly inquired about my daughter’s daily routine, asking about her meals and sleep. She’d even arranged to attend the next parent-teacher conference with Daniel, posing as Lily’s parents. My hand tightened on the mouse, not from sadness, but from sheer disbelief. Daniel’s affair had actually reached our daughter. When Lily was born, he was the one who got up in the middle of the night to feed her, to soothe her back to sleep. He promised me that no matter what, she would always be our beloved little princess. Even that morning, when Ashley mentioned wanting custody of Lily, I had felt a fleeting relief. At least Daniel still cares about our child. He wouldn’t hurt her even if we divorced. My chest felt like it had a gaping hole, an icy wind whistling through it. I couldn’t hold back any longer and pulled out my phone, intending to warn him to stay away from my child. But my phone buzzed first-a message from Ashley. She’d sent a selfie, asking for my opinion. “Chloe, quick, tell me if this outfit works! My boyfriend is taking his daughter and me to meet his parents tonight. I’m so nervous.” At the same time, Daniel also messaged me. “Honey, my parents miss Lily. I’m taking her to their place for dinner tonight.” “You’re busy with work, so I bought you movie tickets. Go relax and watch a movie tonight.” He attached a photo of Lily coming out of kindergarten. Looking at Lily’s innocent, wide-eyed smile in the picture, I suddenly chuckled. Why watch a movie when a family dinner is better? Since they’re meeting the parents, I, the original wife, should definitely go and vet the situation myself. 3 I hung up the phone and immediately drove to the old Miller family estate. On the way, I kept getting messages from Daniel. “Honey, are you at the movie theater yet? I think there’s an event at the mall today, did you see it?” He was testing me. But I wasn’t flustered. I quickly searched for the mall online, took a screenshot, and sent it to him. “Saw it. Looks busy.” My reply was dismissive, but it seemed to put him at ease. “Great, have fun. Love you.” His usual sweet talk. I felt a surge of nausea. I put my phone away and didn’t reply. I parked the car, pulled on a hat and mask, and quietly walked into the courtyard of the old estate. The family dinner hadn’t officially started, but almost all of Daniel’s relatives were already there. His mother, Mrs. Miller, was bustling around, her face beaming with delight. Her attentive and doting demeanor made her look like an impeccable, loving mother-in-law. It reminded me of when I hadn’t married Daniel yet. She was just like that then. My health was fragile, so she’d specially gone to a rural chicken farm to get fresh chickens, making me nourishing soups for every meal. I was sensitive to the cold, so she knitted scarves and crocheted slippers by hand, treating me like her own daughter. She even remembered my dad’s stomach problems, specially buying traditional herbs from the countryside, brewing them, and delivering them to our house. Even my dad, a shrewd businessman who’d navigated the corporate world for years, said, “The Millers are a decent family. I’d be at ease if you married into them.” But now, seeing Daniel walk in with a radiant Ashley, his mother was the first to rush forward and greet them. “This must be Ashley, right? You’re so beautiful, such a lovely girl.” “Daniel, you have to treat her well, don’t you dare bully her.” Even Mr. Miller, usually so stern, put down his newspaper and patted Daniel’s shoulder with a look of contentment. “Good taste, she clearly looks like she can bear children. Our Miller family really needs a woman who can have a son.” It was then I understood. They had disliked me for only having a daughter. They wanted an heir to carry on the family name. Ashley seemed quite pleased, subtly arching her back, her voice sweet. “Don’t worry, Daniel had me checked, and my body is perfectly fine. I can definitely have a son.” “Good! That’s wonderful!” Mr. and Mrs. Miller beamed with joy, vying to give Ashley gifts, pushing Lily, who was in the way, aside. Other relatives also crowded around, showering Ashley with endless praise. Amidst the clamor, I distinctly heard Daniel’s uncle, Uncle Ben, who had borrowed over two million dollars from us, clapping his hands and laughing. “Daniel, you’re truly accomplished! This is what a Miller man looks like!” Aunt Sarah, who I’d gone to great lengths to help get her daughter abroad, clapped and wiped away tears. “This is wonderful, I love Ashley. She’s so dependable!” And Liam, Daniel’s brother, who had repeatedly failed in his ventures and whom I’d always connected with my family’s resources, excitedly stood up to toast them. “To a long and happy marriage, and may you have many sons soon!” Every single one of them had genuinely received my help, been indebted to me, and taken advantage of my generosity. Yet at this moment, no one remembered my existence. No one even mentioned my name. Aunt Sarah, after wiping her tears, excitedly grabbed my three-year-old daughter, Lily, and pushed her towards Ashley, urging, “What are you waiting for? Hurry up and call her Mommy!” “Yes, yes!” Mrs. Miller seemed to remember, and taking Lily’s hand, she tried to place it in Ashley’s. “Lily, quickly, call her Mommy!” Lily looked at these people in horror, shaking her head frantically. “I don’t want to! She’s not my mommy, my mommy is Chloe Miller! Grandma, I want Mommy!” “Will you let Mommy come pick me up?” She naively thought that by begging Grandma, Grandma would help her. But in reality, Mrs. Miller’s face immediately turned cold. She grabbed Lily’s ear and twisted it hard. “You little brat! What nonsense are you talking about? She is your mommy! Call her now!” Mr. Miller looked at Lily with disgust, not bothering to hide his displeasure. “Daniel, this is your well-taught daughter? So ill-mannered!” Ashley bit her lip, swaying precariously before collapsing into Daniel’s arms, looking at him with feigned injury. “Daniel, does Lily… not like me?” Daniel tenderly embraced her, comforting her in a low voice. “Of course not, darling. She’s just a child, she doesn’t know any better. Once we’re married, she’ll do whatever you say, and I won’t interfere.” Standing outside the door, watching this scene, I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed the door open. I looked at the stunned faces of everyone, a chilling, humorless smile playing on my lips. “Isn’t this a family dinner? Why didn’t you invite me, the original wife?” 4. The moment Daniel saw me, he froze. He couldn’t believe I was here, when I was supposed to be at the mall watching a movie. He instinctively recoiled from Ashley, his voice trembling as he asked, “Chloe, what… what are you doing here…?” In all our years together, it was the first time I’d heard such panic in his voice. Daniel’s eyes darted away, unable to meet mine. After so many years of painstaking deception, I wondered if he felt even a hint of guilt. Ashley, standing beside him, turned ghostly pale and couldn’t speak. She hadn’t imagined that her gleeful description of her mistress life, so smugly recounted to me in my office, would now crash headfirst into the very wife she spoke of. I walked slowly into the old estate. The Millers and their relatives were instantly thrown into disarray, all lowering their heads, unable to meet my gaze. Mrs. Miller, who had once been so affectionate and meticulously caring towards me, now stood in a corner, looking utterly mortified. All the relatives and friends who had just been disparaging me and praising Ashley fell silent. The old estate’s living room was eerily still. No one dared to break the temporary quiet. Suddenly, a glass shattered in a corner of the room. It was Daniel’s aunt, Aunt Carol. She had slammed her cup of tea onto the floor without a care. As if she’d been holding back for too long, she pointed at Daniel and Ashley in the center of the room, fuming. “You two filthy cheats! How can you do this to Chloe? Do you even have a conscience?” No one had expected her sudden outburst, so no one tried to stop her. Aunt Carol wasn’t done. She continued to point at the group of sanctimonious relatives, her eyes blazing with fury. “You bunch of ungrateful bastards! I’ve been sick of listening to you! Don’t you remember everything Chloe has done for this family over the years? Or have your consciences been devoured by wolves?” Her insults were truly foul, and the relatives, who had managed to hold their tongues so far, suddenly bristled. The first to speak was Aunt Sarah, who had just been effusively praising Ashley. “How can you say that? Since Chloe married into our family, she belongs to the Millers, in life and in death. It’s only natural for her to do things for the family. There’s no need for mutual accusations!” “Besides, when Daniel’s company was in crisis, she, as his lawfully wedded wife, chose to go back to her parents and beg them for money and help. No one forced her. Now, if she just wasn’t so clueless and stubborn, clinging to Daniel and refusing to divorce him, would things have gotten to this point?” After Aunt Sarah finished, Liam, Daniel’s brother, who had repeatedly failed in his ventures, couldn’t help but stand up and add, “Exactly! People from wealthy, high-status families should know the rules! Now, Ashley is already pregnant with Daniel’s child, and she’s still pretending not to know what’s going on? If she’s useless and can’t produce a son, does that mean no one else can? Honestly, Chloe, you should be grateful! It’s only because Daniel is soft-hearted. If it were me, I wouldn’t have tolerated her for three years. I would’ve kicked her out of the house ages ago.” Aunt Carol was speechless, fuming. She couldn’t be bothered to argue with them. She gave me a look of pity and then turned and left. Listening to their shameless arguments, I suddenly smiled. I looked silently at Daniel, who hadn’t spoken for a long time. “Daniel Miller, since your family all knows I’m your lawfully wedded wife, then what exactly is this… thing next to you?” Daniel’s face cycled between green and white. He was livid that I was publicly shaming him. He dared not contradict his relatives, nor did he dare contradict me, so he could only stand there, silently stewing in anger, not daring to say another word. He stood with his hands at his sides, like a child who had done something wrong. A long silence stretched. Finally, Mrs. Miller, who had always been close to me, spoke. She changed her affectionate and protective demeanor towards Ashley from earlier, coming forward to take my hand, then said with a look of apology, “Chloe, I was wrong about this. I shouldn’t have let Daniel keep it from you.” “But now Ashley is pregnant with Daniel’s flesh and blood. Our family can’t just disown her…” “Daniel’s child will be Lily’s sibling. Please, for Lily’s sake, can you accept Ashley and forgive Daniel?” Listening to Mrs. Miller’s moral blackmail, and remembering her past insincerity, I felt nothing but disgust. But before I could expose her hypocrisy, Ashley suddenly cried out. She clutched her stomach tightly with both hands, sliding to the floor, her face contorted in pain. “Ah… Daniel, Daniel, my stomach… it hurts so much!” No one knew what had happened, only that Ashley looked utterly pathetic. Daniel was heartbroken. All his attention was snatched away by Ashley, completely ignoring me standing by the side. He tenderly pulled her into his embrace, then turned to glare at me, his voice vicious. “Chloe Miller, that’s enough! My family and I have been patient with you out of respect for our past, but if anything happens to Ashley’s baby today, I swear I won’t let you off!” It was the first time he had spoken to me with such venom. Even in the past three years, when we shared a bed but our hearts were miles apart, and there was no longer the usual intimacy of a couple, He had still been courteous and affectionate with me. Of course, that was because he was an expert actor. Seeing the man who used to share my bed now hurling insults at me for another woman, my heart remained utterly still. My heart had already died the moment Ashley walked into my office and told me all those things. Watching the two of them ‘showing affection’ in front of me, I even found it a little amusing. I curved my lips into a slight smile, my voice calm. “You call this ‘too far’? Daniel Miller, compared to all the dirty things you’ve done, I haven’t even scratched the surface.” “But since you’ve already cursed me out, it would be a shame not to actually do something to earn it.” With that, under everyone’s astonished gaze, I deftly turned on the projector in the center of the living room. I plugged the flash drive my friend gave me into the console, skillfully took out the remote, and pressed play. The scrolling images on the screen plunged the scene back into a deathly silence. The group of people who had just been arrogant and ferociously aggressive now stood speechless, watching the content on the screen. It displayed three years’ worth of evidence of Daniel and Ashley’s affair and cheating. Even more, it detailed his records of property transfers, started long ago, to prepare for our divorce. And the money my parents had lent him in my name over the years, All the help and investment my family had put into his company, everything was laid bare before him. Though I doubt he was really paying attention. Daniel’s face was ashen, refusing to accept the facts before his eyes. But facts were facts; he couldn’t deny or explain them away. “I don’t believe it! This…all of this is fake! You fabricated it to frame me!” He shoved Ashley aside, lunged forward to snatch the remote from my hand, and tore the flash drive from the console in one frantic motion. Then he hurled both to the floor and stomped them into shattered pieces. “Chloe, these are all fake. Don’t take them seriously.” I looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, my voice cold. “You can destroy these all you want. I have plenty of backups. And do you really think these are the only things I found?” “What… what else is there?” Daniel’s voice shook. I thought of him taking Ashley to various events, posing as Lily’s parents, causing my daughter such deep psychological trauma, and it drove me insane. At this point, there was nothing left to hide between us. I scoffed. “All that money you, your uncle, and your brother lost over the years…it wasn’t just ‘business,’ was it?” “What are you implying? Of course it was!” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I silently pulled out another flash drive and played it on the big screen.

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