My son was dying in the ICU, and I was pulling a double shift as a DoorDash driver at midnight just to pay his medical bills. I accepted a high-priority, express order to deliver a box of condoms to the penthouse at the Westwood Tower—the most expensive residential building in the city. When the door opened, my heart stopped. Standing there was Carter Westwood, my ex-husband of five years. I froze. But the desperate need for a five-star rating forced a professional, polite smile onto my face. I handed over the package. “Your DoorDash order is here, sir. Please leave a five-star review if you’re satisfied.” Carter’s face turned into a storm of complex emotions. Before he could speak, a pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Amelia Miller, the biological daughter of my former adoptive parents, purred in her sweet, dripping voice: “I ordered that, babe.” “Carter, you said you didn’t want kids yet, so I thought…” *SLAM!* Carter snatched the package from my hand and slammed the door shut in my face. Through the heavy wood, I could hear their muffled, intimate whispers. “I only want my own kids. Tonight, we don’t need that.” I stood frozen in the dimly lit hallway, my fingernails digging so hard into my palms that they drew blood. What Carter didn’t know was… He did have a child. A four-year-old boy, currently clinging to life in the hospital. *** ###

“New delivery offer. Tap to accept.” The loud ping from my phone pulled me back to reality. None of this mattered anymore. Leo was still in the hospital waiting for me to make enough money to save his life. I couldn’t afford to break down. The moment I stepped out of the Westwood Tower, the sky opened up, pouring down a torrential rainstorm. I didn’t have a raincoat, and the freezing rain pelted against my skin, stinging like needles. But the worse the weather, the higher the surge pricing on DoorDash. Ignoring my shivering body, I slipped my phone into a ziplock bag and rushed back onto my scooter to continue taking orders. It wasn’t until dawn that I finally stopped taking orders, planning to go back to my tiny apartment to take a hot shower and rest. Suddenly, an unknown number popped up on my screen. “Hello?” I answered, my voice hoarse. “Bring me a hot latte. I need to be at the office by eight-thirty.” That voice… “Carter?” He let out an impatient, irritated sigh. “Aren’t you a delivery driver? Get it here in thirty minutes, and I’ll tip you five hundred dollars.” The line went dead. I didn’t understand what Carter was trying to play at. But five hundred dollars was more than I could make in a whole day of back-to-back deliveries. Without hesitation, I rushed to a high-end cafe nearby, bought a premium latte, and drove as fast as I could back to the Westwood Tower. I rang the doorbell, and Carter opened it almost instantly. His eyes swept over my dripping wet hair and soaked clothes, a contemptuous smirk playing on his lips. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was enjoying this. The proud Chloe Miller, who had supposedly walked away from him five years ago for a five-million-dollar payout, was now willing to swallow her pride and beg for a mere five-hundred-dollar tip. My throat felt tight, but I forced a smile and handed over the coffee. “Your coffee, Mr. Westwood.” Carter took a sip. His face instantly darkened, and his tone became venomous. “This coffee taste like cheap trash.” “Chloe, I offered you five hundred dollars to get me a decent drink, not this garbage.” I quickly explained, “That cup cost fifteen dollars, sir. It’s not cheap.” But Carter wasn’t listening. He sneered, “Get another one.” Then, *SLAM*. He shut the door in my face again. I had no choice. For that five hundred dollars, I had to ride back out into the freezing rain. This time, I learned my lesson. I went to the most expensive artisanal coffee shop near the building. A single cup cost thirty-five dollars—a ridiculous price. But Carter was still not satisfied. “I wanted an espresso macchiato, not a standard drip. Do it again!” Another thirty-five dollars down. But when I delivered the next one, he changed his mind again. “I don’t want a hot coffee anymore. It’s too warm in the office. Get me an iced Americano. Do it again!” “It’s too watery. Double shot of espresso. Do it again!” “You took too long. The ice melted. Do it again!” … Again and again. My wet clothes clung to my shivering body. I was shaking uncontrollably. Even a fool could see that Carter was doing this on purpose to humiliate me. I looked at my phone. The entire morning had been wasted. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him, my voice trembling with exhaustion. “Mr. Westwood, you don’t have to play with me like this. I know my life is a mess right now. Just consider it my karma. I don’t want the five-hundred-dollar tip anymore. Let’s just say I owe you.” “But the six cups of coffee cost me nearly two hundred dollars in total. Can you at least reimburse me for that?” “I have to go to the hospital this afternoon. I can’t waste any more time.” Hearing my words, Carter’s expression grew even uglier. He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Losing your patience already? When you were scamming me for my money five years ago, you seemed to have all the patience in the world.” “I get it. A woman like you always has a price.” “Five hundred isn’t enough? How about five thousand?” Before I could reply, Carter pulled out his designer leather wallet. He grabbed a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and threw them directly at my face. “Pick it up.” “Consider it a tip from me. Didn’t you always love cash more than anything else?” The bills were brand new. Their sharp edges whipped against my skin. One of them sliced across my cheek, leaving a thin, stinging cut that began to bleed. The cash scattered all over the floor. It was way more than five thousand. It was enough to cover Leo’s chemotherapy for the next two weeks. Dignity? Poor people don’t have the luxury of dignity. My heart ached with a sharp, suffocating pain, but I quickly forced myself to go numb. I knelt down on the cold floor and began picking up the bills one by one. Suddenly, a black designer shoe stepped heavily onto one of the hundred-dollar bills. I paused. I looked up, meeting Carter’s cold gaze. I forced a shameless, desperate smile. “Mr. Westwood, I’m sorry.” “Your shoe… seems to be stepping on one of my bills. Would you mind moving your foot?” Carter’s eyes locked onto the bloody scratch on my cheek. He froze for a fraction of a second, and then quickly looked away. With a look of pure disgust, he pulled his foot back, turned around, and walked back into his penthouse. Seeing his cold back, tears finally stung my eyes. I suddenly remembered a time, long ago, when even a slight cough from me would make this same man panic. He would wrap me in blankets and force me to drink warm soup. Forget it. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat. I got the money. That was all that mattered. Leo was waiting for me at the hospital. I finished gathering the cash and left quietly. Inside, Carter walked back to the doorway, holding a cheap band-aid he had frantically dug out of his cabinet. But the hallway was already empty. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. *Carter, it’s been five years. Why are you still so pathetic?* Just as he was about to throw the band-aid into the trash can, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He slid to answer. His assistant’s hesitant voice came through the speaker. “Mr. Westwood, we found something.” “Miss Miller… she seems to have a child. The boy is currently in the ICU.” *** ###

By the time I rushed to the hospital with a lunch box, it was already one-thirty in the afternoon. Leo had already eaten and was fast asleep. I turned to his primary care physician, Dr. Luke Evans, with a grateful smile. “Dr. Evans, how much was the lunch? I’ll Venmo you right now.” “Thank you so much. I got caught up with some work this morning. I’m sorry for making you watch over Leo.” Luke smiled gently and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It was just some food from the cafeteria. It’s nothing. When I saw you hadn’t arrived by noon, I knew you must be busy working. So, I grabbed him some lunch.” He stepped closer, his eyes focusing on my left cheek. “What happened to your face?” “Did you scrape it while delivering in the rain again?” Luke reached out, intending to examine the cut. I flinched, pulling my head back instinctively. Seeing Luke’s hand frozen in mid-air, I realized I had overreacted. I quickly offered an apologetic smile. Before I could explain, Luke, ever understanding, smiled warmly. “You need to treat it, or it will get infected. It’s not deep, but you’ve been out in the rain and dirt. It’s better to be safe.” “My shift just ended. Come to my office. I’ll clean and disinfect it for you.” I couldn’t decline his kindness again. Just as I was about to follow him, someone slammed hard into my shoulder from behind. Unprepared, I stumbled, and my elbow crashed violently against the cold corridor wall. My entire arm went numb with pain. “Ah…” I gasped, unable to hold back the pain. I clutched my throbbing shoulder and looked up. It was Carter. Amelia was clinging tightly to his arm. As if I was just some annoying trash blocking his way, he didn’t even look at me. He threw a careless, insincere apology over his shoulder. “My bad.” And then he kept walking with Amelia. Amelia, however, turned her head to look at me. Last night, Carter had blocked her view, so she hadn’t seen my face. Today was our first official encounter. Her eyes first landed on my wrinkled, dirty food delivery uniform, and then swept over my miserable state as I clutched my bruised arm. A smug, mocking smirk appeared on her face. She didn’t even think I was worth wasting her words on. She giggled and leaned closer to Carter as they walked away. “Chloe, are you okay?” Luke immediately held my arm to support me. Seeing how pale I was, his face darkened, and he was about to chase after them. I grabbed his arm to stop him. “I’m fine, Luke. They were probably in a rush. He apologized anyway.” “Let it go.” Seeing my stubborn insistence, Luke sighed and nodded. He helped me to his office. After treating the cut on my cheek, he gave me some ointment for my bruised shoulder. I thanked him and insisted on paying for the medical supplies. After a brief argument, he finally accepted the money. Checking the time, I knew I had to get back on the road for the afternoon rush. But the moment I walked into the hospital parking lot, my heart sank. The seat of my electric scooter had been slashed to ribbons with a utility knife. And the entire vehicle was covered in dripping, wet red paint. “You pathetic gold-digger!” A sharp, hostile voice echoed from behind me. Amelia stepped out from the shadows of the concrete pillars. She was holding a bright red box-cutter, a cruel smile on her face. “Five million dollars, and you already spent it all?” “What? Are you so broke that you have to come back and… try to seduce Carter again?” *** ###

“Amelia, it was just a coincidence. We ran into each other.” “Hah! Who do you think you’re fooling? You already stole twenty years of my life as a fake Miller. Now you want to steal my fiancé too? Have you no shame?” Facing Amelia’s accusations, I felt a familiar wave of guilt. In the eyes of the Miller family, I was the imposter who enjoyed their wealth while Amelia suffered in the foster system. And in my current position, fighting back would only hurt me and Leo. So, I tried to speak to her as calmly as possible. “Amelia, I am truly sorry about what happened in the past. But please believe me, today was purely an accident. I will never interfere with your and Carter’s lives again.” Amelia clearly didn’t believe a word. She mocked, “I really don’t get if you’re playing dumb or if you’re actually stupid. Carter loved you so much back then. If you had stayed with him, you could have had all the money you wanted. But instead, you chose to run away to Europe with some shady foreign billionaire to be his side-chick.” “Tell me, how much money do you want this time?” I shook my head violently, my voice tight. “I don’t want any money. I will never show up in front of you two again.” “Amelia, you are really misunderstanding this.” “Misunderstanding?” She laughed loudly, cutting me off. She pulled out a checkbook from her designer purse, quickly scribbled on it, and shoved it against my chest. “Here. One million dollars.” “Take it and disappear from Carter’s life forever.” I frowned, refusing to touch it. I couldn’t understand why Amelia would suddenly act so “generous.” I remembered the day the Millers kicked me out. Amelia wouldn’t even let me take more than two changes of clothes. It was pouring rain, and a kind maid had tried to slip me an umbrella and a warm coat. Amelia had screamed at her: “Don’t you dare give her anything! Every single thing she’s wearing was bought with my family’s money! Letting her leave with those rags is already charity!” Seeing that I wasn’t taking the check, Amelia forcefully grabbed my hand and shoved the check into my palm, forcing my fingers to close around it. At the same time, she slipped the open box-cutter into my other hand. I was startled by her sudden, aggressive movements. I instinctively tried to throw the burning check back at her. “What are you do—” Before I could finish my sentence. “Help! Help me!” Amelia suddenly let out a blood-curdling shriek. “She’s robbing me! She has a knife! Help!” My entire body went rigid. In an instant, I realized I had been set up. Heavy, hurried footsteps and the shouts of security guards echoed from the entrance of the parking lot. “Stop right there! What’s going on over there?” “Drop the weapon!” “Get away from her! We’ve called the police!” Everything happened too fast. Before I could even drop the knife, two security guards and Amelia’s personal bodyguards rushed forward. Someone kicked me hard in the back, sending me crashing face-first onto the dirty concrete. My cheek scraped against the rough ground, sending a blinding flash of pain through my face. I tasted dust and metal. A heavy security guard pinned me down, locking my arms behind my back. I was pressed flat against the filthy ground, my body twisted in a painful angle. It was hard to breathe. I had absolutely no dignity left. “Let me go! It wasn’t me… she set me up!” “Shut up! We caught you red-handed!” The guard pinning me down yelled in my ear, as more onlookers gathered around. From my position on the ground, I could only see a sea of expensive shoes. I could hear Amelia’s trembling, tearful voice explaining to the guards how I had “threatened her with a knife” and “demanded a million dollars.” Soon, the police arrived. The guards, who had clearly been bought by the Miller family, exaggerated the story, describing me as a desperate, violent criminal. As the officers hauled me up from the ground, I saw Carter running toward us. He pushed past the crowd and immediately took Amelia into his arms. “Amelia, are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. Amelia buried her face in his chest, sobbing hysterically as she shook her head. Only then did Carter turn his gaze toward me. His eyes were filled with absolute, unfiltered disgust, as if he were looking at a piece of rotting garbage. “Chloe, do you have any shame left?” “It’s been five years, and you’ve degraded yourself to this level? I guess the five million wasn’t enough, so now you’re trying to extort Amelia because she’s gentle?” I was entirely alone, tears of humiliation and helplessness streaming down my face. “I didn’t do it…” I choked out. But my tears only made Carter look more disgusted. “You didn’t do what?” he snapped, his voice cold as ice. “You didn’t hold a knife? Or you didn’t demand money? Chloe, five years ago you sold yourself to the highest bidder without a second thought. Is it really a surprise that you’d do something this disgusting for cash now?” “I never thought you could be this pathetic. You are no different from a parasite living in a sewer, crawling around looking for someone else’s wallet. Do you even have a soul left?” I wanted to scream, to explain, but the officers slammed the police car door shut, cutting off my voice. Armed robbery was a felony. That night, I was locked in a holding cell. *** ###

No matter how many times I explained or begged the detectives, it was useless. The investigation was pending. I couldn’t leave. My heart was in my throat as I worried about Leo. Did his fever go down? Did he take his medicine on time? Was he crying in the dark, calling for his mommy? Did I have enough money left in my account to keep him in the ICU? The terror and anxiety gripped my chest, tightening until I could barely breathe. But things only got worse. The stress, combined with riding in the freezing rain all night, caught up to me. A raging fever took over my body. I shivered violently in the cold cell, my vision blurring, unable to even hold a pen to write a statement. *No. I can’t go to prison.* *What will happen to Leo?* He had just survived a major surgery. He was only four years old. He couldn’t survive without me. But my body was giving up. Just as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, a guard’s voice echoed through the metal bars. “Chloe Miller, you’re free to go. Your bail has been posted.” It was Luke. He rushed in, supporting my weak body as we walked out of the precinct. But as we reached the lobby, we ran right into Carter. Carter’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Luke’s hand supporting my waist. His voice dripped with malice. “Chloe, your son is literally fighting for his life in the emergency room.” “And you’re already out here throwing yourself into another man’s arms?” My heart stopped. I looked up at Luke, my eyes wide with panic. Luke pressed his lips together, throwing a furious glare at Carter before looking down at me reassuringly. “It’s an infection-induced fever. His vitals dropped, and things got complicated… they had to rush him back in.” “But the chief of pediatrics is personally leading the procedure. He’s going to be okay.” The news hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled, and I would have collapsed if Luke hadn’t caught me. I gripped Luke’s sleeve, sobbing hysterically. “Take me there. Luke, please, I beg you.” “Leo is so small… he can’t leave me…” I sat outside the operating room, my face pale as death, staring at the bright red “In Progress” sign. Every second felt like an eternity. I was trembling so hard I could barely sit upright. “Chloe, please sit down. You’re still running a high fever…” I shook my head blindly, my eyes glued to the double doors. Seeing that I refused to leave, Luke had no choice but to step away for a moment to grab me some water and a warm blanket. Carter had followed us to the hospital. He stood a few feet away, watching me with a tense, conflicted expression. He eventually walked over to Luke, demanding answers. “Why is she raising a kid alone? Did she tell you?” “Did that rich foreign guy dump her? Did he leave her with nothing, not even child support?” Luke remained silent, ignoring him. This only made Carter more agitated. He finally asked the question that had been burning in his mind: “What kind of disease does the kid have? Why is Chloe so desperate for money?” Luke knew everything about Leo’s parentage. But right now, he didn’t have the patience to deal with Carter’s ignorance. Holding back the urge to punch Carter in the face, Luke turned to walk away. Suddenly, a nurse rushed out of the operating room, her voice filled with panic. “Miss Miller!” “Miss Miller, wake up!” Both Luke and Carter froze, then bolted toward the bench. I had fainted, sliding off the seat onto the cold floor. Clutched tightly in my hand was Leo’s unsigned critical condition notice. The nurse held me up, looking at Luke frantically. “Dr. Evans, the blood bank is completely out of O-negative blood. Can we get an emergency transfer from another hospital?” “The boy is hemorrhaging!” In the face of life and death, even Carter’s anger vanished. Seeing the dying child who carried half of Chloe’s blood, his heart softened. He stepped forward, rolling up his sleeve. “I’m O-negative. Draw my blood.” The nurse’s face lit up with relief, and she immediately reached out to guide him. But Luke stepped in, blocking Carter with a fierce, iron-clad grip on his shoulder. “No!” “You are his biological father. You cannot donate blood to him!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443804”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Early on the morning of our tenth wedding anniversary, a giant bouquet of ninety-nine red roses from my husband arrived at our company’s front desk. My coworkers gathered around, squealing with envy, gushing about how we were still as madly in love as newlyweds even after a decade of marriage. But as I was getting a vase to arrange the flowers, I overheard the cleaning ladies gossiping in the breakroom. “Elena is so clueless. Ethan literally brought his side piece into the company three years ago, and she still has no idea.” “Exactly. Every anniversary, he gets his wife a generic bouquet of roses, but he buys his little mistress designer bags, sports cars, and luxury apartments. It’s pretty obvious who he actually loves, right?” My heart violently seized. A year ago, Ethan said he wanted to buy a luxury condo downtown, claiming it would be convenient for hosting high-end clients. I bought it. Last month, he wanted to upgrade his car to a Porsche, saying it would make him look more professional when meeting investors. I put down the deposit. And just last week, he asked me to use my VIP account at Hermès to buy a bunch of lifestyle accessories, claiming he needed to gift a VIP client a rare handbag. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand. “Hi, is this Mrs. Elena Vance? The limited-edition Hermès Birkin you ordered has arrived at our boutique.” I took a deep breath, turned on my heel, and headed straight to the luxury store. Since these things were never meant for “clients” in the first place, it was time for me to take them all back.

“Hey babe, did that Hermès bag you helped me order finally arrive?” I had just walked into the private VIP lounge and picked up the limited-edition orange Birkin—which required over a hundred thousand dollars in pre-spending—when Ethan’s call came through. I looked up and caught the sales associate’s smile freezing on her face. So, my husband had his own eyes and ears inside this store. “Yeah, I just got it,” I replied, my voice sounding flat even to my own ears. Ethan’s voice was instantly pumped with excitement. “Awesome! I’ll swing by and grab it after work. I actually have a dinner meeting with a major client tonight to lock down that new project.” I slowly ran my fingers over the supple, pebbled leather of the bag. It was the classic Hermès orange. Bright, flashy, and attention-grabbing. I had always hated loud colors like this. Most of Ethan’s high-profile business clients were around my age; none of them would realistically carry a bag in this shade. That was why, when I placed the order last week, I had specifically requested a classy, understated Etoupe Gray. “Which client are you gifting this to? I can just have my assistant deliver it directly to their office,” I said casually. Silence stretched over the line for two agonizing seconds. “Babe, come on, it’s our anniversary today. Why would I want to stress you out with work errands?” Ethan chuckled nervously. “Plus, you haven’t been involved in this specific project. You wouldn’t be able to chat with them about the details if they ask.” He was dodging the question, talking in circles. Since last year, Ethan had practically moved into the gym. He was constantly flexing his new abs in the mirror and spending thirty minutes styling his hair every single morning before leaving for “work.” My best friend had joked once, *“Is your husband going through a midlife crisis, or is he having an affair?”* I had laughed it off back then. Ethan and I had been together for ten years, surviving the transition from college sweethearts to business partners. I was the one who stood by him when he had absolutely nothing. I was the one who ignored my wealthy family’s warnings and used my own inheritance and connections to fund his startup. I watched him grow from a clueless boy into a polished CEO. We survived the worst of times together. Why couldn’t we share the best of times? My eyes burned with unshed tears. “Fine. Come pick it up now then,” I said, hanging up before he could respond. I closed my eyes. Memories of us huddling together in our cramped, freezing studio apartment years ago flashed across my mind. But they were instantly shattered by the image of him today, meticulously styling his hair in front of the vanity. As it turned out, the pain of a breaking heart was far worse than physical labor. My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone and texted the real estate broker who had helped us buy the downtown condo last year. “I need you to sell the downtown condo immediately. List it for one million dollars cash today.” The broker replied almost instantly. “Elena! Are you serious?! That is way below market value! You paid nearly double that amount last year!” My heart felt completely numb. “Just sell it. Today.” Right after I locked my phone, Ethan rushed into the VIP lounge. “Babe! What made you decide to come pick up the bag yourself today?” I glanced at my watch. It had taken him less than twenty minutes to get here. Was he really that terrified of me uncovering his little secret? “The store manager called me and said my VIP order was ready, so I happened to be in the area,” I said smoothly. Ethan shot a sharp, warning glare at the sales associate, Sarah. But when he turned back to me, his face softened into his usual warm, loving expression. I smiled faintly, pretending not to notice their little exchange. “By the way, Ethan, I distinctly remember ordering the Etoupe Gray last week. Why did Sarah hand me an orange one?”

Ethan’s face went stiff, and he fell silent. I tapped my fingers on the luxury bag and turned my gaze to Sarah. “This isn’t the bag I ordered. You’ve completely wasted my time and my husband’s.” I paused, my voice cold. “Should I file a formal complaint with corporate?” Sarah panicked, shooting a desperate, pleading look at Ethan. But Ethan remained quiet, sweat practically beads on his forehead. “No, ma’am, it wasn’t my mistake. Your husband was the one who—” Sarah started to stammer. Ethan quickly cut her off. “Babe, the bag is actually for the client’s daughter,” he lied smoothly, flashing a reassuring smile. “I was worried a young girl wouldn’t like the boring gray you chose, so I called Sarah back and had her switch it to the orange one.” *A young girl?* I caught my reflection in the polished glass storefront. I still looked virtually the same as I did ten years ago—stylish, sharp, and well-kept. But in his eyes, I was already the “old wife.” Sensing the tension, Sarah quickly pulled a silk scarf from the display cabinet and placed it gently near my hand. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Vance. This was miscommunication on our part for not notifying you beforehand. Please accept our sincerest apologies.” Ethan reached over, rubbing his hand through my hair, and slid close to me on the plush velvet sofa. To avoid office gossip, he had always refused to show any form of physical affection toward me at the office. I felt a wave of discomfort and subtly shifted away from his touch. He frowned slightly, then gave Sarah a quick wink. “Sarah, go grab some of your latest arrivals. Let my wife pick out whatever she wants.” Watching him play the doting, guilty husband made me feel physically sick. I rarely visited this boutique myself. Usually, whenever he claimed a “client” needed a gift, I would just call and put it on my card. But seeing how comfortable and familiar he was with Sarah, it was obvious he had been spending a lot of time—and my money—in this store. “Babe, I know you’re upset about the color mix-up,” Ethan cooed, trying to wrap his arm around my waist. “Tell you what, whatever you want in the store today, it’s on me. Happy anniversary.” Sarah brought out a dozen gorgeous bags, laying them out in front of me. Every color, every style. But I felt absolutely nothing. I waved my hand dismissively. “Forget it. I have a meeting with some partners this afternoon anyway.” I looked at him. “Didn’t you say you had to deliver that gift to your client? You should get going.” Right on cue, Ethan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He quickly planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “Don’t be mad at me, okay? I promise to make it up to you tonight.” I watched him stand up, check his phone, and practically skip out of the boutique. His steps were so light, so full of anticipation. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. You really can’t hide the energy of someone who is freshly in love. I had been so blind for so long, busy running the actual business while he was out playing boyfriend. The moment he disappeared from view, I stood up and walked over to Sarah. “I want to see the full transaction history under his authorized user card.” Sarah looked me up and down, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vance, but that is private client information. We aren’t authorized to share transaction details without the primary user’s consent.” There was a subtle, condescending smirk on her face, as if she assumed I was just a wealthy trophy wife throwing a tantrum. “Even if you complain to corporate, our policy stands,” she added. I reached into my Chanel wallet, pulled out my Centurion Black Card, and slammed it onto the glass counter. Sarah’s eyes went wide, and her smug attitude instantly evaporated. “The card he uses? It’s just an authorized user card linked directly to my primary account,” I said, my voice deadpan. “Now, do I have the right to see where my money is going?” Sarah bowed her head quickly, taking the card with trembling hands. “Of course, ma’am. I will pull up the records immediately.” A second later, the computer screen populated with page after page of transaction history. In the past month alone, there was over eighty thousand dollars of spending on high-end jewelry, women’s shoes, and ready-to-wear pieces. I scanned the customer profile linked to those purchases. The phone number listed wasn’t Ethan’s. I memorized the number instantly. “Print the entire history out for me. Now.” Holding the thick stack of printed receipts, I walked out of the store into the crisp afternoon air. I pulled out my phone and texted my personal assistant, Amy. “Find out who owns this phone number immediately. Also, run a forensic audit on Ethan’s personal bank accounts and our corporate expense reports for the last three years.” Less than two minutes later, Amy replied. “Elena, I found it.” “The phone number is registered to Chloe Miller. Our front desk receptionist.”

When I walked back into our corporate headquarters, I immediately spotted a group of girls crowded around the reception desk. That bright, limited-edition orange Hermès Birkin was being passed around like a trophy. “Oh my god, Chloe! This bag is absolutely stunning! Isn’t this like, virtually impossible to get?” one of the girls squealed in awe. I walked over, casually reached into the circle, and snatched the bag right out of their hands. I examined it for a few seconds. Yep. It was the exact bag I had just authorized at the boutique. “It is incredibly hard to get,” I said, looking up with a cold smile. “I’ve been on the waitlist for a month and couldn’t even get my hands on one.” Chloe’s face instantly twisted in annoyance. She snatched the bag back from my hands, clutching it to her chest. “Well, my boyfriend bought it for me. Doesn’t Elena’s husband buy her things like this?” Chloe smirked, her voice dripping with malice. “Oh, wait. I guess when a man has to go home to a wrinkly, exhausted wife every day, he probably doesn’t feel like buying her luxury gifts anyway.” The other girls exchanged knowing, amused glances, clearly enjoying the drama. “Yeah, did Elena only get a cheap bouquet of roses for her anniversary today?” one whispered. “My boyfriend says roses are so basic. They’re just for show. If a man really loves you, he buys you the best,” Chloe bragged, tossing her curled hair. I looked at the smug, mocking faces of the girls around her. It clicked. The entire office knew Ethan was sleeping with the receptionist. I was the only fool kept in the dark, working myself to the bone to fund their lifestyle. The pain in my chest was so suffocating I could barely breathe. Since we got married, Ethan had stopped buying me real gifts. He always used the same excuse: *“Babe, we’ve been together forever. My money is your money. There’s no point in wasting cash on flashy gifts.”* Yet, every single anniversary, he’d order a generic bouquet of roses. He used to tell me roses represented “eternal devotion.” But the truth was, I hated roses. I had sent him countless hints on Pinterest of the wildflowers and orchids I actually liked. But the next year, it would be the same lazy roses. I had always excused it, thinking he was just a typical, clueless guy who didn’t understand aesthetics. But he wasn’t clueless at all. He knew exactly how to pick out the perfect, vibrant orange bag for his twenty-something mistress. He knew how to buy her a BMW and rent her a luxury condo. He didn’t lack effort. He just didn’t want to waste it on me. Seeing that I remained silent, Chloe grew even bolder, puffing her chest out. “Oh dear, is Elena going to cry?” she mocked. “It’s just a bag. If you want one so bad, I have plenty of older designer bags in my closet. I can toss you one of my hand-me-downs if you ask nicely!” Over the past two years, Chloe had been showing up to work every day draped in different designer brands. I had actually wondered once how a receptionist making $15 an hour could afford a wardrobe like that. I had naively assumed she was just a spoiled trust-fund kid working an easy job for fun. Who would have thought that her lavish lifestyle was entirely funded by my sweat and tears? Half the bags she owned were ordered through my own VIP accounts. A cold rage surged through my veins, but my face became terrifyingly calm. “No thank you,” I said, my voice ice-cold. “Keep your trash to yourself.” Chloe rolled her eyes and gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Are you jealous, Elena? But honestly, you’re pushing forty. This bright orange really doesn’t suit an older, washed-up woman like you anyway.” I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “You’re right. This color doesn’t suit me.” “It suits a pathetic, home-wrecking gold digger perfectly.” Chloe’s face flushed red with anger, her eyes instantly welling with fake tears. “What did you just call me?! Elena, just because your husband doesn’t love you anymore doesn’t give you the right to abuse your employees!” The other girls quickly chimed in to defend her. “Yeah, Elena, just because you have marriage problems doesn’t mean you can bully Chloe!” “No wonder Ethan always looks so exhausted and miserable around the office. Having a toxic boss for a wife must be a nightmare.” They were already treating Chloe like she was the next CEO’s wife. I stared at Chloe with absolute detestation. “You know exactly what you are.” I didn’t waste another second arguing with them. I turned around and walked straight back to my office. “Ugh, whatever! She only got her position because of Ethan anyway. Without him, she’s absolutely nothing!” “I know, right? Don’t let her get to you, Chloe. You’re young, beautiful, and actually capable. Soon enough, you’ll…” Their loud, petty whispers echoed down the hallway. *I got my position because of Ethan?* A dark, mocking smile spread across my face. I pulled out my phone and messaged my assistant. “Amy, cancel the Friday happy hour early dismissal for everyone involved in that conversation at the front desk.”

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At the party, my husband had a gift for everyone. He even gave his ex-girlfriend, Maya, a bottle of designer perfume worth over five hundred dollars. But when he got to our daughter and me, his hands were empty. Everyone at the table froze. “Wait, Zach, where are Chloe and Lily’s gifts? Isn’t today Lily’s birthday?” Zach blinked, waving his hand dismissively. “Chloe and I have been married for seven years. We don’t need that stuff. And Lily is just a kid, she doesn’t care about these things.” Our friends exchanged awkward glances. The atmosphere in the bistro instantly turned tense. Someone tried to break the ice. “Oh, come on, Zach must have prepared a huge surprise and is saving it for later!” The others laughed along to ease the tension, but I couldn’t force a smile. Lily looked up at me and whispered, “Mommy, did Daddy forget my birthday?” I gently stroked her hair and whispered back, “How about we leave Daddy behind, okay?” Maya smelled the perfume, her eyes lighting up. “You actually remembered I love this scent? I only mentioned it to you years ago.” Zach replied casually, “When have I ever forgotten anything about you?” A few people at the table started teasing them. “Alright, alright, we get it. You have a great memory, Zach.” “Honestly, Chloe is so lucky. With Zach’s memory, he probably never forgets an anniversary or a birthday!” Zach smiled and turned to look at me. I didn’t say a word. I just kept my head down, wiping Lily’s hands with a napkin. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cheap plastic keychain, and tossed it to Lily. “Here. Go play with this.” Lily stared at it but didn’t reach out to take it. Maya laughed from across the table. “Zach, you are so cheap! Kids don’t like things like that. Lily was staring at my plush keychain last time, she clearly loved that one.” Lily shrank back into my side, shaking her head. “Daddy, I don’t want this.” Zach’s face darkened. “I bought you a toy and you’re rejecting it? Why are you being so spoiled?” I frowned and pulled Lily closer to me. Maya chimed in, “Yeah, Chloe, are you sure you’re not babying her too much?” I took a deep breath and picked Lily up. “Lily isn’t being ungrateful. She just doesn’t like this.” The table went dead silent for a few seconds. Zach’s expression shifted, but he quickly forced a smile. “Fine, what do you want then? Tell me, and I’ll buy it.” Lily whispered, “I want the chocolate cake Mommy talked about this morning.” Zach looked confused. “What cake?” I didn’t answer. I carried Lily over to the lounge sofa in the corner of the room. Lily whispered in my ear, “Mommy, does Daddy not know it’s my birthday today?” I brushed her hair back. “Daddy forgot.” She nodded, not fully understanding, and buried her face in my shoulder. Zach didn’t look at me again. He turned back to Maya and kept chatting. They were already reminiscing about high school, laughing hysterically. I looked down at Lily, my heart completely cold. This was our seventh year of marriage. He remembered Maya’s favorite woody-scented perfume. He remembered our friend Carter’s bad neck. But he couldn’t remember his own daughter’s birthday. Zach stopped talking, and Maya kept her head down. The atmosphere in the room was incredibly awkward. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my lawyer. I glanced at it, then locked the screen. On my way to the restroom, I heard laughter behind me. As soon as the restroom door shut, the noise from the hallway grew louder. “Come on, Truth or Dare! Maya, you lost! Truth or Dare?” Maya giggled. “Dare.” “I dare you to kiss Zach right now!” I didn’t hear Zach say no. I leaned against the bathroom stall, forcing down the lump in my throat. On the phone, my lawyer asked me, “Mrs. Miller, have you reviewed the divorce papers? If there are no issues, you can sign them.” I closed my eyes. Outside, after a brief silence, a loud cheer erupted. “Yes, I’ve read them,” I said. “I’ll mail them to you tomorrow.” When I walked out of the restroom, the lounge was empty. A waiter was clearing the table and looked surprised to see me. “Are you Zach’s wife? He said they were going to a late-night club and already paid the bill.” I looked down at Lily. She was rubbing her sleepy eyes. “Mommy, where is Daddy?” “Daddy is busy. Let’s go home first.” I slowly unclenched my fists and let out a quiet sigh. He forgot about us again.

It was so late that I had to wait on the curb for a long time to get an Uber. The moment we walked through the front door, Zach called. His voice was filled with harsh accusation. “Why didn’t you follow us? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” I put the sleeping Lily onto her bed and lowered my voice. “When you guys left, I was in the restroom taking a call.” “What call could be that important?” “My lawyer.” He paused. “What lawyer?” “My divorce lawyer.” The line went dead silent. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “What are you throwing a tantrum for now?” “Zach, I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’ve signed the papers. I’ll give them to you tomorrow.” “Are you insane? You’re divorcing me over a stupid mistake?” “It’s not a stupid mistake. Today is Lily’s birthday. She’s been looking forward to your gift since last month. But you never care.” He didn’t say another word and hung up. I sat by Lily’s bed, watching her peaceful face. She rolled over, mumbling in her sleep, “Daddy… birthday…” I tucked her in, and tears finally ran down my face. Actually, when we first got married, Zach was incredibly sweet to me. He always chose restaurants I liked and bought me clothes that suited me. When we got married, I remarked that the rented wedding dress was so beautiful. He went ahead and bought it, saying we would wear it again on our anniversary. When I was pregnant, he never let me lift a finger. When I craved mango crêpes in the middle of the night, he drove across the city to find them for me. Once I casually mentioned I wanted jasmine tea. I forgot about it minutes later, but he soon handed me a bottle, wiping sweat from his forehead, making sure it was room temperature so it wouldn’t hurt my stomach. But just last month, he mistakenly thought the wedding dress was a rental we forgot to return. Claiming it took up too much space in the closet, he threw it away. In its place was a box of expensive jewelry. He said Maya’s birthday was in six months, and he was buying her gifts in advance. I stared at the box for a long time before nodding. His memory was indeed amazing. Every single piece in that box was exactly what Maya liked. In his mind, Maya’s preferences could be stored forever. But I was just a passing guest. I had my time, and now I had to leave. The next afternoon, Zach came home with Maya, laughing and talking. Maya was holding two cups of drinks. She smiled as she walked in. “Chloe, we passed by the cafe and grabbed some smoothies for you and Lily.” Lily was playing with her Legos in the living room. She looked up, then looked back down. Maya handed a cup to Lily. “Lily, look what I got for you. Try it.” Lily shook her head. “That has mango in it. I can’t drink that. It makes me break out in really itchy hives.” Zach snapped from behind, “Look at how you’ve raised her, Chloe. She’s scared of eating anything.” Maya gasped. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I totally forgot Lily is allergic to mangoes.” Zach patted her shoulder. “It’s fine. If she won’t drink it, you can have it.” Maya took the cup back and started drinking it herself. I watched them, staying silent. Lily pulled on my shirt, whispering, “Mommy, did I say something wrong?” I knelt down and told her, “No, baby. You did perfectly.” Zach stood up and looked at me. “Chloe, we need to talk. Privately.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” “What is your problem? It was just one forgotten birthday!” “Zach, you knew yesterday was her birthday, and you didn’t even bother to buy a card.” “I can change.” “You said that four years ago.” Maya whispered from the side, “Chloe, Zach really knows he messed up. Just forgive him this once.” I looked at her cold. “This is between my husband and me.” Maya lowered her head, her eyes welling with tears. Zach sighed and grabbed Maya’s arm. “Let’s go.” As they reached the door, Zach turned around. “Chloe, I’ll talk to you later.” The door shut. Lily looked up at me. “Mommy, Daddy left again. When is he coming back?” I didn’t know how to answer her.

Suddenly, everything felt so ridiculous. When Lily was one, Zach set up a trust fund for her, saying she could use it when she turned eighteen. A few days ago, I checked the account. The money had been cleaned out long ago. When did he stop caring about me? When did he stop caring about our daughter? At 8:00 PM, Zach still wasn’t home. He sounded excited on the phone. “What are the odds! The seafood place Maya wanted to try finally had an opening! I invited Carter and the guys out. I won’t be home tonight!” I looked at the cold dinner on the table. The ice cream cake had already melted into a sticky puddle. “But you promised…” He hung up. A text popped up: “It’s too loud here. I’ll head back after dinner. You and Lily go to sleep.” My fingers hovered over the screen, but I didn’t have the energy to type. After a long moment, I opened Instagram. The top post was a video of Zach putting food on Maya’s plate. Maya’s caption read: *“All these years, and you still remember what I like to eat.”* Zach’s voice in the video was clear: *“Of course. How could I ever forget anything about you?”* I closed my eyes. My phone vibrated with a new email. *“Hello Mrs. Miller, your divorce petition has been finalized and sent to your address.”* I stood up and scraped the dinner and the melted cake into the trash. I had wanted to give Lily a proper birthday celebration tonight. Now, the “Happy Birthday” chocolate plaque was melted and distorted, looking incredibly ugly. The cake couldn’t wait for him. And Lily and I didn’t want to wait anymore, either. Zach didn’t get back until midnight. “You’re still awake? Sorry, I forgot to bring you some cake. But Maya made some homemade cookies for Lily to apologize.” I took one look at the box. They were peanut butter cookies. “You eat them,” I said. “Chloe, seriously? There’s a limit to your tantrums. Maya went out of her way to—” “Lily is allergic to peanuts.” He froze. “Since when?” “Since she was born.” His tone turned defensive. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Maya made these specifically for Lily. You’re wasting her sweet gesture!”

I turned around and looked at him holding the cookie jar with a frustrated look on his face. Zach saw the look on my face and softened his tone. But his voice still held that familiar sense of superiority, like he was making a grand sacrifice. “Fine, fine. I won’t bring peanut butter cookies home for Lily anymore. Happy?” He let out a sigh. As if he had made a massive compromise for me, and I should be grateful. From beginning to end, he thought I was just throwing a tantrum, and that if he played along, this would blow over. “Okay,” I replied quietly. I turned around and started putting our IDs and passports into a small backpack. Zach sat at the dining table, eating one of the cookies, and looked up at me. “A business trip?” “I’m going back to my parents’ place.” He nodded. “Right, you haven’t been back to Ohio in a while.” “Oh, by the way, Maya said she loved that local organic honey and homemade hot sauce from your hometown. Make sure to bring some back for her.” “Check the label on the hot sauce, though. She doesn’t eat peanuts.” I didn’t reply. Assuming I agreed, he stood up and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a plastic bag. “For the road. Don’t go hungry.” It was a ziplock bag containing a half-eaten bag of chips and half a chocolate bar. A few days ago, when Maya came over, Zach had bought hundreds of dollars worth of snacks for her. This was just what she left behind. I walked past him and packed some tissues into my bag. Zach’s voice went cold. “Still mad?” “I bought you things, I apologized. What more do you want from me?” “Fine. Go back to your parents’ for a few days to cool off. When you get back, we’ll take Lily to that new escape room downtown. Maya already booked the tickets for us.” I kept my back to him, gently shaking my head. “No. Lily is afraid of the dark.” The next second, he grabbed my arm, forcing me to face him. “Since when is Lily afraid of the dark?” “Chloe, do you even consider me your husband?” “You didn’t tell me about the allergy, you didn’t tell me about her being afraid of the dark. How was I supposed to know? You didn’t say anything, and now you’re mad at me!” I looked into his angry eyes. When we first got married, he always said I couldn’t hide anything from him. Whether it was good news or bad, he could read it off my face instantly. But now, he couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t remember anything. His phone rang on the table. Zach let go of me and answered it. Maya’s voice was loud and clear. “How were the cookies? Did Lily like them? Are you guys okay now?” Zach pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated. “No. Chloe says Lily is allergic to peanuts.” “Oh my god… I am so, so sorry! I didn’t know she was allergic! Did you guys fight again? It’s all my fault…” Maya sounded frantic, apologizing repeatedly. I looked at Zach’s back and heard him take a deep breath. “It’s not your fault, Maya. She didn’t tell me. She only has herself to blame.” Right. I only had myself to blame. I bent down to put on my shoes and tied the laces. “Why are you crying, Maya? I told you it’s not your fault. You had good intentions.” “Besides, even I didn’t know Lily was allergic. How could you?” I pulled my suitcase toward the door as he continued comforting her. “Three years ago,” I said, my voice calm, “I brought Lily to your office party. She accidentally ate a peanut butter pretzel. You were the one who rushed her to the ER. You promised me that night you would never let peanuts near her again.” “And when Carter organized an escape room for his birthday, you were the one who declined, saying Lily was too afraid of the dark to go.” “It seems even Maya remembers things better than you do.” Zach went completely stiff. His lips parted, but no sound came out. I opened the nightstand drawer, pulled out the signed divorce papers, and placed them on the dining table under his coffee mug. Then, I opened the front door and dragged my suitcase toward the elevator. “Zach.” Across the threshold, I took one last look at the apartment. “Let’s get a divorce.”

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When Ethan Grant pushed the key card in front of me, the tape from last night’s ER visit was still stuck to the back of my hand. “Spend one night with Michael Bennett and get the contract signed.” He kept his head down, flipping through documents without even looking at me. “This is the last bit of value you have to me.” I stared at that key card, the back of my throat tasting metallic. “I had a gastric hemorrhage. The doctor said if I drink again, I could die.” Only then did he finally lift his eyes, but his gaze went right past me to the door—Nina Shaw was walking in with a hand pressed to her forehead, saying in a soft, pitiful voice that her head hurt. Ethan immediately got up and pulled her into his arms, his tone so gentle he seemed like a completely different person. “Ethan, what if she won’t go?” Nina leaned against his chest, but her eyes stabbed straight at me. Only then did Ethan turn his head. He swept me a glance like he was handing out charity. “Won’t go? If the company goes bankrupt, are you going to take responsibility?” I lowered my head and saw the white scraps scattered inside the shredder by my feet. They were my name, and Boston University. I said, “Fine. I’ll go.” I’ll go to Boston University. I’ll never stay where I am and wait for you again. 1 Stella Hayes POV In the fifth year of helping Ethan Grant build his startup. He handed me the key card to a strange man’s room and told me to exchange myself for a contract for his first love. The name on the business card was Michael Bennett. It also listed the hotel address and room number. Beside it lay an itinerary confirmation, clearly stating it was a business suite and that check-in was tonight. A sharp, stabbing pain twisted my insides, each step sending cold sweat prickling across my skin. Last night, to help Nina Shaw close a difficult channel partner, I had taken three full bottles of hard liquor on her behalf, drinking until my stomach bled and I was dragged into the ER. Clinging to the last of my strength, I placed the bloodstained ER medical record on Ethan Grant’s desk. “Ethan Grant, I had a gastric hemorrhage. The doctor said if I keep drinking, it could kill me. I really can’t go to tonight’s dinner.” My voice was so weak it was barely audible, my face pale as paper. Ethan was looking down, flipping through documents. He did not even lift his eyelids. Just then, Nina Shaw pushed the door open in high heels and walked in, pressing a hand to her forehead as she leaned against the back of Ethan’s chair. “Ethan, I didn’t sleep well last night. My head hurts so much.” Ethan immediately put down the documents, stood up, and pulled Nina into his arms. His warm palm gently rubbed her head, his voice tender enough to drip water. “How were you so careless? I’ll have the driver take you back to rest right away.” After soothing Nina, Ethan turned his head. The moment his eyes landed on me, they dropped to freezing. He did not even look at the ER medical record. He swept it straight into the trash can by his feet. “Spend one night with him and help Nina secure this contract.” Ethan fastened the custom cuff link on his wrist without even raising his eyes. “This is the last bit of value you have to me. Once this is done, Nina will have a solid foothold with the board.” The penthouse’s AC cranked down to frigid temps, the cold seeping deep into my bones. I stood quietly in front of the large desk, my fingers trembling violently, disbelief filling my eyes. “Ethan Grant, are you insane?” My voice drifted in the air, full of incredulity. “We’ve been together for five years, and now you’re asking me to keep an old man who could be my father company, just to pave the way for Nina Shaw?” Ethan finally lifted his eyelids and glanced at me. His eyes held only condescending appraisal and indifference. “You were never worth much to begin with. Why are you acting so pure? The company needs this funding right now. Nina is too delicate to handle Michael Bennett, so it has to be you.” I dragged my eyes off the business card, skimming his polished, heartless features before settling on the dark carpet beside the paper shredder. Pale scraps of paper were scattered across the floor. They were my name, and Boston University. The admission letter I had personally given up back then to stay and help him build his company now lay shredded across the expensive carpet. My eyes instantly turned red. I pointed at the mess on the floor, my voice sharp with anguish. “What about my admission letter? I gave up my education for you back then. Even if you don’t love me, why did you have to shred it? Did you have to destroy the last thing I had left to hold on to?” “It was just a piece of useless paper. Keeping it in the drawer only took up space.” Ethan gave a cold laugh, pulled a first-class ticket to New York out of the drawer, and tossed it lightly onto the business card. “Did you really think you could go back to school? Face reality. Take the ticket and fly over tonight.” I bit down hard on my lower lip until the sharp taste of blood filled my mouth. I looked at the man I had loved for five years. It felt as if an invisible hand had clenched around my heart, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe. Suddenly, I understood. My five years of love, the life I had nearly sacrificed for him, was nothing more than a joke he could sell at any moment. “Fine. I’ll go.” I reached out with pale fingers, picked up the business card and ticket, folded them in half, and mechanically stuffed them into my coat pocket. “Ethan Grant, I hope you don’t regret this someday.” Ethan withdrew his hand in satisfaction and gave a scoff. “As long as you bring the contract back, what would I have to regret?” I turned around and walked out step by step. When I passed the discarded cardboard box, I saw the photo frame he had written on himself back then. On the back, it said, Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today. What an absurd joke. Expressionless, I bent down, grabbed the scraps bearing my name from the shredder’s collection bin, put them into my bag, shut the door, and left. When I got back to my place, I did not turn on the lights. I placed the business card, itinerary confirmation, and ticket on the counter by the door. Ethan Grant must have thought I had given in. I stood in the dark for a long time, then crouched down on the cold floor and opened the Notes app. I recorded everything that had happened tonight. When I typed the sentence, This is the last bit of value you have to me. At last, I let out a very low, deeply suppressed, miserable laugh. It turned out that when a person was pushed to the edge, the first thing to shatter was not tears. It was that pathetic habit of still desperately trying to make excuses for the other person. 2 Stella Hayes POV Before dawn, I called the landlord. “Mrs. Wilson, this is Stella Hayes. I want to terminate the lease. I won’t be renting for the remaining four months. I’ll pay the penalty fee in full.” My voice sounded especially hoarse in the empty living room. The landlord on the other end was a little surprised. “Why so sudden? Didn’t your boyfriend tell me last time that he wanted to rent this place for that sister of his named Nina Shaw? He also said you should move out as soon as possible.” My hand tightened around the phone, my nails digging deep into my palm. So Ethan Grant had planned to drive me out long ago, just to make room for Nina. The home I had carefully built over five years was nothing more than a hotel room that could change owners at any time in their eyes. I took a deep breath, my eyes dead still. “We’re not getting married. We never will. I’ll return the apartment to you. He can rent it to whoever he wants. We broke up.” After hanging up, my fingertips slid across the phone screen until I reached the third photo. Time rewound three years. The album stopped on an old yellowed picture. In the photo, Ethan Grant was smiling smugly at the camera. My admission letter sat right beside his hand. I gave a cold laugh, took a screenshot, walked to the bookshelf, and yanked open the dusty old document box. From the very bottom, I pulled out that familiar note. The handwriting was forceful. It said, We are one and the same. I placed the note, the discarded photo of us, and the admission letter shredded into snowy scraps side by side on the table. On the way to the company, I opened my old email. I sent a message to a friend in Boston whom I had not contacted in years. “May I ask, is the legal aid center you work at hiring lately? I want to leave this place.” The other person quickly called me on voice chat, their tone full of worry. “Stella, what happened? You gave up school for Ethan Grant back then. Why do you suddenly want to come here? The pay is low, the work is messy and heavy, and it takes a huge emotional toll. Are you sure you want to come?” Standing in the cold wind, I tightened my grip on the phone, my voice firmer than ever. “I’m sure. I’ve been drained dry for five years. Now, I want to find myself again.” After hanging up, I listed every account jointly linked to Ethan Grant in the Notes app. Automatic utility payments, the residential community group chat, the company backup email. Every time I canceled one, I marked a heavy check on the paper. When I canceled the emergency contact, a red warning box popped up, asking if I wanted to sever the relationship. Expressionless, I pressed confirm. After finishing all of that, I took out a blank sheet of paper and wrote down my next plan. Terminate the lease, resign, go to Boston. Before folding the paper into the inner pocket, I uncapped my pen and wrote one sentence hard across the back. Never give myself up for anyone again. I returned to the company’s Executive Office. The area outside the Executive Office was quiet. When Nina Shaw pushed the door open, she did not even knock. The door slammed heavily into the filing cabinet beside it with a dull thud. Nina walked in, her gaze landing on my handbag. “I lost an expensive piece of jewelry. Let me see what’s in your bag.” I looked at her coldly and yanked my bag into my arms. “These are my personal belongings. You have no right to touch them.” Nina laughed contemptuously, her voice shrill. “Personal belongings? Even you are being kept by Ethan. What personal belongings do you have? Everyone, come look. She’s acting guilty because she stole something, right?” Coworkers outside who did not know what was going on began peering in one after another. I was shaking with anger. I turned to look at Ethan Grant in the office chair. “Ethan Grant, you’re just going to let her slander me and humiliate me in public like this?” Ethan frowned slightly, impatience in his tone. “Stella Hayes, let her look. If you didn’t steal anything, what are you afraid of? Don’t waste time.” That one sentence was like a rusty, blunt knife stabbing viciously into my heart. I clenched my teeth hard, tears spinning in my eyes, but I forced them back. I released my grip and pushed the bag to the edge of the desk. “Fine. Look. Look carefully!” 3 Stella Hayes POV A flash of triumph crossed Nina Shaw’s eyes as she reached in without the slightest courtesy. She did not care about my silence at all. She turned the handbag upside down. Everything inside scattered across the floor with a clatter. All of it was exposed under the eyes of every coworker in the office area. “Oh my god, what is this piece of junk?” Nina shrieked, her high heel stomping hard onto an old pocket watch that had rolled out. It was the birthday gift Ethan Grant had bought me at a flea market during the first year of his startup, using the only three hundred dollars he had left. The glass on the watch face had cracked long ago, but I had always treasured it and kept it close to me. There was a crisp crack. The thin heel of her shoe pierced straight through the face of the pocket watch. The gears and hands inside shattered apart, completely ruined. “Move your foot!” My eyes instantly turned bloodshot. Like I had lost my mind, I lunged forward, trying to shove Nina’s foot away. But Nina took the opportunity to fall backward, letting out an exaggerated cry as she collapsed right into Ethan Grant’s arms, who had just walked out of the office. “Ethan! I only wanted to see if she had stolen anything from the company, but she actually hit me!” Nina’s eyes immediately reddened as she huddled in Ethan’s embrace, looking wronged. Ethan’s face turned livid. He grabbed my wrist and flung me away hard. I staggered a few steps. My knee slammed heavily into the hard corner of a desk, and the pain made me suck in a sharp breath. I lifted my head and looked at Ethan Grant with red eyes. “She broke the pocket watch you gave me! That was five years of memories between us!” Ethan coldly swept a glance over the pile of scrap metal on the floor. There was not the slightest trace of warmth in his eyes. “A piece of trash worth a few hundred dollars. So what if it’s broken? What’s there to make such a fuss about? If Nina had gotten hurt, could you afford to compensate her? Clean up the trash on the floor, then apologize to Nina.” I stared fixedly at the remains of the pocket watch on the floor, then looked at Ethan Grant’s heartless face. At last, I understood. What had broken was not the watch. It was the five years of my youth. Nina not only rummaged through the handover documents, she also forcefully pulled out a kraft paper envelope. Several pages of lease-termination consultation records slid out of the envelope with a rustle. Nina deliberately raised her voice. “Lease-termination consultation records. So you already knew you weren’t worth anything and were preparing to move out? No wonder you didn’t even dare enter the client’s room.” I looked coldly at this shameless pair and said icily, “Are you done looking? You didn’t find any jewelry. Shouldn’t you apologize to me now?” Nina twisted her waist and turned to leave, tossing out one sentence. “Who knows if you moved it somewhere else beforehand?” At five thirty in the afternoon, the noisy company gradually quieted down, leaving only me in the break room. Ethan Grant walked in carrying a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee and placed it by my hand. “I just didn’t want to argue in front of her earlier. It wouldn’t have looked good. Don’t be so petty. It was just a bag. Don’t take it to heart,” Ethan coaxed in a low voice. I turned off the faucet. I turned around, picked up that cup of coffee, walked to the sink, and without warning, flipped my wrist. The entire cup of hot coffee poured into the drain without a single drop left. “Ethan Grant, do you think what I poured out was just a cup of coffee?” I lifted my head, my eyes cold as ice. “I’m not petty anymore. From now on, I won’t care about any of your business. Your first love is yours to serve.” Ethan’s face darkened. “What do you mean?” “You know exactly what I mean.” I picked up my own glass cup. When I passed by him, I did not pause for even a step. 4 Stella Hayes POV The handover checklist in my hands had already been checked carefully for the third time. The door to the CEO’s office was half open. Ethan Grant’s voice came from inside as he spoke on the phone. I only heard the name Michael Bennett. After the call ended, he walked to the door and ordered me around. “Come in. We’re talking about the project.” I picked up the handbag on the corner of my desk, stood up, and walked in. Nina Shaw was sitting on Ethan Grant’s lap, playing with an expensive diamond necklace. Ethan dotingly kissed Nina on the cheek. When he turned to look at me, his eyes immediately became the way someone looked at cheap merchandise. He pulled out a black bank card and tossed it onto the desk like he was giving alms to a beggar, pushing it to the center against the tabletop. The card faced upward. The direction he pushed it in pointed right at my heart. “This is your bonus for this project. There’s one hundred thousand in it. After the deal is done, there will be another payment. This money is enough for you to spend for a long time.” I looked at the diamond necklace glittering around Nina’s neck, then at the one-hundred-thousand-dollar bank card on the desk, and found it absurd beyond words. Ethan Grant could spend millions buying jewelry for Nina without blinking. Yet with a mere one hundred thousand, he wanted to send me into another man’s bed. My eyes reddened, my voice trembling, full of despair and self-mockery. “Ethan Grant, in your eyes, what exactly am I? An object you can sell off whenever you want?” Ethan frowned, his tone stern. “Don’t be ungrateful. Plenty of people would kill for this opportunity. Nina needs results right now. You’re part of the company, so you should contribute to the company. You won’t go? If the company goes bankrupt, are you going to take responsibility?” As soon as he finished speaking, Ethan Grant’s phone suddenly vibrated. The caller ID was Michael Bennett. He answered casually and leaned back into the leather chair. The man on the other end seemed to ask about me in a frivolous tone. The corner of Ethan’s mouth lifted into a smile, and he answered without hesitation. “She’s fine with it. Arrange it however you like. She’s very obedient.” That sentence completely shattered the last line of defense in my heart. I stared at him and suddenly asked, “Ethan Grant, what if after I go to New York, I never come back?” The call had already ended. Ethan gave a cold laugh, his tone thin and cruel to the extreme. “That’s your freedom. As long as you bring the contract back, you can go wherever you want.” My gaze slowly moved up from the bank card and fixed on his face. In the end, the tears never fell. I nodded. “Okay. I understand.” Back at my workstation, I sent out the second version of the handover documents. The body of the email was clear and orderly: “As of 5:30 p.m. today, all project materials handled by me have been fully archived. Any new arrangements from this point forward do not fall within the scope of my responsibilities.” Rachel Chen walked past with a cup of water and lowered her voice, concern in her tone. “Stella, you sent this email… Are you really leaving?” I closed my laptop with a crisp snap. “Yes. I’m leaving, Rachel. Take care of yourself from now on. Don’t be as stupid as I was, throwing everything away for a garbage man.” At ten that night, the company’s HR system opened the pre-resignation application portal right on time. I filled it out very slowly. When I reached the question asking whether I would accept an exit interview, I clicked the mouse and decisively selected no. When I left the company with my bag, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a hotel location pin from Ethan Grant. After reading it, I forwarded the location to my new email with a blank expression and marked it as Evidence No. Then I deleted his chat window completely. This five-year nightmare was finally about to end.

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In the seventh year of my marriage to Julian Prescott, I accidentally discovered his secret. He believed in a book, and that book had written all of our destinies in advance. Serena Hale was the only heroine in the book, destined to have everything. And I was the supporting character who targeted her at every turn and ended in misery. In the book, people like me were called the vicious female side character. Julian never married me because he loved me. He only wanted to keep me under his nose and watch me for Serena. Chapter 1 Ava Bennett POV Old Mr. Prescott’s seventieth birthday banquet was held with great ceremony, and almost everyone familiar in our circle had come. I stood beneath the hallway with my daughter Annie in my hand, lowering my head to smooth the wrinkles in her dress. “Mommy, what should I say when I see Great-Grandpa later?” “Say you wish Great-Grandpa good health.” Annie clutched the hem of my shirt and answered in her sweet little voice. Serena Hale walked over right then. She wore a plain white dress, her long hair loosely pinned behind her head, looking elegant and gentle. She crouched in front of Annie and smiled as she said to her, “Annie is such a good girl, come on, can I take you to say hello to Great-Grandpa? Great-Grandpa likes obedient little kids the most.” She was holding a cup of freshly poured hot water, and white steam was rising from the porcelain cup. The water was too hot, and I was afraid it would hurt the child, so I reached out to take it. “Serena, the water is too hot, let me hold it.” But the moment my fingers touched the rim of the cup, Serena’s wrist suddenly went limp, and the entire cup of boiling water poured straight toward Annie. Almost out of a mother’s instinct, I pulled Annie into my arms and pushed Serena away at the same time. Screams rang out at once. Annie’s hand was burned bright red by the hot water, and blisters rose on her pale, tender skin in the blink of an eye. She cried in my arms from the pain, and her whole body trembled violently. Serena had also fallen to the side, bracing one hand on the floor, her eyes red and looking very frightened. The surrounding guests instantly looked over. The crowd parted, and Julian Prescott strode over. I thought he would look at Annie first. But he did not even spare a glance at his daughter, who was crying so hard her whole body shook, and instead walked straight to Serena and helped her up. He looked at Serena, his voice filled with undisguised tension. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” Serena lowered her head, tears falling in streams, and timidly hid behind him as she said in a weak voice, “Julian, don’t blame Ava, I was the one who didn’t hold it steady…” Julian patted the dust off her clothes, and only then did he turn to look at me. His eyes were dark, carrying a chilling indifference. “Ava Bennett, why did you put your hands on Serena?” Holding Annie, who would not stop sobbing in my arms, I felt as if I had fallen into an ice cellar. “Julian Prescott, Annie was burned by hot water, didn’t you see the blisters on her hand? Take her to the back and find a doctor first!” “I’ve already had the doctor wait in the lounge.” Julian stood up and looked at me, his tone calm. “But I also saw that you pushed Serena.” “She deliberately poured hot water toward Annie!” My tears finally spilled out, and my voice shook terribly. “I only pushed her away to protect my daughter! You don’t believe me?” Julian’s brows furrowed slightly. He looked at me as if I were crazy, and his voice was cold to the extreme. “Serena can’t even hold anything heavy, so what would she use to deliberately burn someone? Ava Bennett, there should be a limit to your lies.” At that moment, my heart went completely cold. “There are so many guests here today, and it’s inappropriate for you to push someone in public.” Julian looked at me coldly. “Apologize to Serena.” “I didn’t do anything wrong, so why should I apologize?” I held the child in my arms tightly, my knuckles turning white from the force. Julian stopped wasting words with me. He took a step forward, reached out with both hands, and forcibly took the child from my arms despite Annie’s crying. “Julian Prescott! What are you doing! Give Annie back to me!” I rushed to snatch her back like I had gone mad. Julian protected Annie with one arm and turned to hand the red-faced, crying child to Serena, who had just steadied herself. Serena accepted her in a bit of panic, held her in her arms, and said weakly, “Julian, this doesn’t seem right, Annie is crying…” “Serena, hold the child for now.” Julian turned back and completely blocked me two steps away. He looked at me, his voice very soft yet carrying a cruelty that allowed no refusal. “Apologize to Serena, and after you apologize, you can take Annie to the lounge in the back to put medicine on her.” Chapter 2 Ava Bennett POV I stared at the husband in front of me in disbelief. Annie struggled desperately in Serena’s arms, crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little hands reached through the empty air toward me with all their strength as she called Mommy again and again. Julian stood in front of me, his expression cold. Between my dignity and my daughter, I had never had a second choice. I dug my nails hard into my palm, and the sharp pain came from my hand, yet it was not even one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart. I lowered my head and heard my own emotionless voice. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Serena held my hand with a gentle and forgiving look. “Ava, don’t say that, today really was because I didn’t hold it steady, so don’t be angry.” Whispers came from the surrounding guests. Everyone looked at Serena with eyes full of approval, and when they looked at me, only disgust and contempt remained. Only then did Julian’s expression ease a little. He took Annie back from Serena’s arms, stuffed her back into mine, and calmly instructed, “Take her to the back and let the doctor handle it, and don’t ruin everyone’s mood.” When the banquet ended, a light rain had begun outside. Holding Annie, who had been treated with medicine and had fallen asleep from exhaustion after crying, I waited for a long time in the cold, damp underground garage. The evening wind blew over me, so cold it made people shiver. In the end, it was the old family butler who came over with an umbrella. He handed me the umbrella and spoke with some difficulty. “Madam, Mr. Prescott drove Miss Hale home, and Mr. Prescott said you should call a cab back yourself.” I took the umbrella and gave a self-mocking laugh in the cold rain. I gave up completely. I did not want to stay in this home for even one more second. I took a deep breath, took out my phone, and called Serena’s cousin, Ethan Brooks. Ethan was the only person in the Hale family who saw Serena’s true face, and he had long hated the Hale family’s hypocrisy to the bone. “The thing you mentioned last month, about taking Annie abroad to settle down and hold an art exhibition, I agree, so help me arrange it, the sooner the better, and don’t let Julian know.” On the other end of the phone, Ethan’s voice was low and decisive. “Okay, handling the paperwork and preparing the house abroad will take about a week, so wait for my message and be ready to leave anytime.” After hanging up, I took Annie home. Julian had not come back yet. I carried Annie upstairs and carefully helped her change into her pajamas. Looking at the thin gauze wrapped around the back of her hand, my heart ached again and again. I swore that I would definitely take her away from here with me. I stayed by her side until her breathing evened out, and only then did I get up to go to the study for spare cotton swabs and medicine. The study door was half-closed, and the desk lamp was still on. A sheet of paper lay flat on the desk, and Julian’s handwriting was on it. His fountain pen writing was very neat, stroke by stroke, as if he were recording some kind of daily routine. I had not meant to pry, but after just one glance, my feet could no longer move. On that page was written: [Old Mr. Prescott’s birthday banquet, Ava Bennett will deliberately push Serena down out of jealousy and try to ruin Serena’s reputation, which is the beginning of her vicious nature being revealed.] Below that line, Julian had written two words heavily with a fountain pen, and the ink was very fresh, clearly written tonight: [Fulfilled.] Looking at those two lines, my hands began to tremble uncontrollably. No wonder Julian did not even look at Annie at the birthday banquet today and decided at once that I had pushed Serena. So in his eyes, this accident was not an accident at all, but a vicious scheme I had planned for a long time. There were many more lines on the paper, and each line had a clear date marked in front of it. Some had already passed, and behind each one was Julian’s own handwritten “Fulfilled.” And some dates had not yet arrived. Under that page of paper, there was also a journal pressed beneath it. The ink on the newest line was not fully dry yet, and it was a prophecy pointing to next Thursday: [October twenty-first, Annie’s kindergarten performance, Ava Bennett will be unable to tolerate Serena getting close to the child and will attack Serena again in the backstage lounge, causing Serena’s head to be injured and bleed…] The words after that were blurred by a blot of ink, and nothing could be seen clearly. Chapter 3 Ava Bennett POV In the second half of the night, I changed the medicine on the burn on the back of Annie’s hand once. The faintly bitter scent of burn ointment slowly spread through the silent room, and I knew this smell well. When I was sixteen, I had also smelled this scent countless times. That year, my father’s art studio failed because of poor business, and in the end, it did not survive that winter. When he left, the IOUs he left behind were more numerous than his belongings. Serena’s father, Mr. Hale, held my hand and said, your dad was half my teacher, so from now on, you will live with the Hale family, and we will raise you. From then on, I was taken in by the Hale family and became sisters with Serena, though we were not related by blood. The Hale family had a very beautiful three-story villa downtown. But after living there for two years, there was still no place that belonged to me in the shoe cabinet in the living room. My pair of worn sneakers could only ever be awkwardly stuffed beside the shoebox in the farthest corner. In that house, the first thing I learned was how to be sensible. Being sensible meant being the last one to start eating at the dining table. It meant taking the initiative to stand on the very edge during holiday family photos, and it meant never making any requests. The second thing I learned was to walk through school with my head lowered. My paint tubes had been maliciously filled with glue, and the lock on my art case had been pried open three times in two months. The worst time involved the sketchbooks I had saved for three years. All eleven of them were pulled out of my locker and thrown into the trash incinerator in the backyard. By the time I arrived, only a furnace of cold paper ashes remained. Inside were all the rabbits I had drawn for my father. When my father was alive, he always laughed and said the rabbits I drew always had one ear that could never stand up. Later, I deliberately drew them that way, with one crooked ear, and it became a secret sign only my father and I understood. But they were all burned to ashes. No one at school admitted who had done it. The homeroom teacher sighed and said to me, if we can’t find out, then let it go, Ava, it’s better to have one less problem. Serena would stand beside me and wipe away tears for me, saying to everyone with red eyes, Ava, don’t be sad, I’ll give you half of my sketchbook. At that moment, everyone in the classroom looked at her with gentle eyes and thought she was like an angel. What truly made me decide to leave the Hale family was a bracelet. On the day of Mrs. Hale’s fiftieth birthday party, one of Serena’s bracelets disappeared. In the end, that bracelet was found in the inner pocket of my backpack. Even now, I still remember the way everyone looked at me back then. The room was full of guests dressed in formal clothes, and not a single person spoke. Mrs. Hale’s expression darkened inch by inch. Serena was the first to cry. She clutched Mrs. Hale’s sleeve tightly and pleaded through tears, “Mom, Ava didn’t mean it, she must have just liked it too much, please don’t kick her out, okay?” The moment that plea was spoken, my theft was completely confirmed, and I could no longer explain myself. Under everyone’s contemptuous gaze, I bowed to Mrs. Hale. “I’m sorry.” That was the first time I learned to say those three words quickly and flatly. There was a boy in the crowd who kept looking at me. That was Serena’s cousin, Ethan Brooks. He looked at me for a long time, but in the end, he said nothing and turned his head away. The day after my eighteenth birthday, I dragged the old art case my father had left behind and completely moved out of the Hale family’s house. Serena walked me to the door and stuffed a paper bag into my arms. “Ava, your things, I’ve been keeping them for you.” Inside the bag was half a sketchbook, with charred marks along the edges, looking as if its edges had been charred deliberately with a lighter. She smiled sweetly at me, revealing two harmless little dimples. “Come back and visit often.” Back then, I still thought she was truly being kind. Chapter 4 Ava Bennett POV Julian Prescott and I met when I was twenty-two. At the time, I had just moved out of the Hale family’s house and barely made a living by drawing illustrations for eight hundred dollars each. Julian was my only client. He did not bargain, and he even noticed the crooked-eared rabbit I secretly drew in the corner of my drafts. After my dad died, he was the first person in the world to notice that rabbit. In the delivery notes, he asked me, “Why can’t the rabbit’s ear stand up?” At the time, I held my phone in that freezing room and cried all night, thinking I had met the person who understood me best in the whole world. When we met at the end of the year, Julian printed out every illustration I had drawn over the past two years and neatly bound them into a book as a gift for me. On the first page, he wrote, “These drawings should not be worth only eight hundred dollars each.” Half a year later, he proposed to me and even helped me pay off all the debts my dad had left behind. On the day we got our marriage license, Julian stood at the entrance of city hall and smoothed my wind-blown hair for me. He said to me, Ava Bennett, from now on, as long as I’m here, no one can make you lower your head again. At that time, I truly thought meeting him was the best thing that had ever happened to me in my life. … Early the next morning, Julian went out, and without even thinking, I knew he had gone to keep Serena company. I had always wanted to have a proper talk with him about what happened at the birthday banquet, but he did not come back reeking of alcohol until the early hours of the morning. I tucked the blanket Annie had kicked off back over her, gently closed the bedroom door, and went downstairs. The study door was not fully closed, leaving a crack. Julian sat behind the desk, pouring wine into a glass, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair. I stood at the doorway and looked at him. “Annie’s hand is covered in blisters, and she was in pain all night and couldn’t sleep, but as her father, don’t you have even one word to say?” Holding the wineglass, he did not even look at me. “The medicine has already been applied, and children’s skin heals fast, so she’ll be fine tomorrow.” “Yesterday, in front of everyone, you snatched the child out of my arms, shoved her to Serena, and forced me to apologize in public.” I walked in step by step, my voice trembling with anger. “Julian Prescott, Annie is only three, but she is already starting to remember things.” “Serena’s wrist ligament was severely torn yesterday, and even now she can’t hold a cup steady, didn’t you see that?” He finally raised his eyes to look at me, his tone filled with impatience. “And here you are, still in the mood to worry about what Annie will think.” Just then, Annie’s cry came from upstairs, but it stopped again very quickly. I instinctively turned my head to look toward the stairs, but Julian seemed as if he had heard nothing, and his expression was terrifyingly cold. “I am your wife of seven years, and Annie is your biological daughter.” My tears finally fell, and my nails dug hard into my palm. “Why is it that every time, we are the ones who get hurt, and we are also the ones who have to apologize and admit fault?” Julian set down the wineglass, stared at me, and fell silent for a full five seconds. “Because Serena can’t take it.” He said, “If anything happens to her at all, a lot of things can’t be suppressed.” I froze completely. “Suppress what? Julian Prescott, explain yourself, what exactly can’t be suppressed?” He did not answer my question and instead stood up, picking up the suit jacket from the back of the chair. “This ends here, and from now on, don’t interfere in Serena’s matters, and don’t ask again.” “We’ve been together for seven years.” I stood there and watched as he prepared to walk past me. “Julian Prescott, do you still have me and Annie in your heart at all?” He paused at the study doorway but did not look back. “Go check on Annie.” He said, “She cried all night, so she should be waking up soon.” He pushed the door open and left, leaving me alone in the study, while the wineglass on the desk still gave off a faint smell of alcohol. The warmer I once thought his words from back then were, the more ironic they felt now. Lost and dazed, I returned to Annie’s room. Annie slept uneasily, her tiny brows tightly furrowed, and suddenly, in her sleep, she cried out a muffled sentence like a dream: “Auntie Serena said Mommy is the bad woman in the story…” When I heard that sentence, all the blood in my body slowly turned cold. Serena was already teaching my daughter to hate me. And my husband was still forcing me to bow my head to her. Chapter 5 Ava Bennett POV Someone must have filmed what happened at the birthday banquet and posted it online. My name became a trending topic. The trending hashtag was #RichWifePushesSomeoneInPublic. The comments under the hashtag were filled with all kinds of abuse and insults. Some people even dug up my number and called me directly to curse me out, so I turned off my phone. My reputation had been completely destroyed, but I did not care about that at all now, I only cared about Annie. Whenever I thought of the prophecy in Julian’s notebook, which said I would deliberately injure Serena backstage during next Thursday’s performance. I could not sleep night after night. To prevent trouble before it happened, I tried sneaking into the study to see if I could steal that notebook. But when I went there the next day, Julian’s desk was already empty, and there was a brand-new lock on the drawer, as if he were guarding against me like I was a thief. When I combed Annie’s hair in the morning, I pretended to ask casually, “Annie, has Auntie Serena ever told you stories before?” “She has.” Annie shook her little head at the mirror. “Auntie told me a princess story.” “Then in the story, is Mommy there?” When I heard that sentence, my whole body froze. Because Annie looked at me in the mirror and suddenly said to me mysteriously, “Auntie said this story can’t be told to Mommy, and Auntie said Mommy is the bad woman in the story, and later she will steal Annie’s rabbit and beat Auntie Serena to death.” I never could have imagined that Serena had already been privately feeding my daughter such vicious words. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I did not know how much they had slandered me in front of Annie, and I did not dare to think too deeply about it. On Thursday, it was the day of Annie’s kindergarten performance. I stayed by Annie’s side every second and did not stay alone with any strangers. I also deliberately chose a seat near the aisle, so that if anything happened, I could run backstage the moment I lifted my leg. But Serena still came. Holding a bouquet of flowers, she smiled and waved at me from the auditorium entrance, saying Annie had personally invited her, so she had to come. When the fourth performance was halfway through, my phone vibrated with a SnapChat message, and the profile picture and note showed it was from Annie’s teacher: [Annie’s mom, one ear on the bunny hair clip Annie is wearing fell off, and the teacher can’t find it anywhere. The spare clip is in the props storage room on the second floor. Can you go upstairs and get it for her?] Because it involved Annie going onstage, I had no choice but to get up and head to the second floor. But when I entered the empty props storage room. My heart suddenly sank, and I realized I had fallen into a trap, so I turned and ran outside. When I passed a lounge around the corner on the second floor, Serena’s voice faintly came from inside, and she was calling Ava. I ignored her completely, gritted my teeth, and ran all the way back to the first-floor auditorium in one breath. From the time I left to the time I returned to my seat, it was four minutes at most. But before the fifth performance had ended, chaos erupted backstage. Someone shouted that something was wrong, and Serena had been pushed down in the second-floor lounge and injured. Serena had fainted on the ground, her temple hit the corner of the table, and a lot of blood had flowed out. At the infirmary door, Julian had already arrived. He stood beside the stretcher, looking at me coldly, his eyes full of disgust and caution. “Today, in the hallway by the props room on the second floor during the performance, you were the only person who went there, Ava Bennett, what else do you have to explain?” I clenched my fists tightly and defended myself loudly. “The teacher sent me a SnapChat message and told me to go to the second floor to get the spare hair clip! I was deliberately tricked into going up there by them!” “The teacher’s phone has been charging at the front desk all night, and she never sent you any SnapChat message.” Julian interrupted me, his tone full of disappointment. “Ava Bennett, don’t you think making up this kind of lie to shirk responsibility is too childish?” “I’m not lying! If you don’t believe me, go check, you’ll definitely find something.” I was so anxious that I defended myself again and again. When the stretcher was carried past me, Serena, who was lying on it, suddenly opened her eyes and clutched my wrist tightly. In a voice only the two of us could hear, she smugly spat a sentence beside my ear: “Ava Bennett, no one will believe you, and without evidence, if they can’t find out, then they’ll just let it go.” The ambulance siren howled as it sped away. I left Julian behind and rushed back into the auditorium like I had lost my mind. In the center of the stage, Annie was wearing that bunny hair clip with the drooping ear, dancing while looking toward the audience with expectation. And in her father’s seat, it was completely empty, with only a bouquet of flowers no one had taken away. That night, while I held sleeping Annie, the words Serena had said to me on the stretcher suddenly exploded in my mind. “If they can’t find out, then they’ll just let it go.” Those words were exactly the same. Fourteen years ago, when I was living under someone else’s roof, it was the day after my art albums were burned to ashes in the Hale family’s backyard. In the office, the homeroom teacher had also said to me in exactly the same tone, “If we can’t find out, then let it go, Ava.” At that time, there were only two people in the office, me and the homeroom teacher.

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My arm had a four-inch gash, blood dripping from my fingertips. Yet, the first thing my fiancé said when he woke up, the man I had just risked my life to save, was to ask if Hailey Sterling, who was cowering outside the door, was alright. Inside the top-floor conference room of the Cole Group, Julian Carter sat with a bandage on his forehead. He claimed he had “amnesia” from the hit and said he only remembered Hailey. His mother awkwardly told me to be patient and wait for him. Suddenly, my late grandmother’s voice exploded in my mind. “He is faking it. He played this exact same trick on you in your past life, bleeding the Cole family dry while keeping Hailey perfectly safe.” My grandfather slammed three marriage alliance proposals onto the mahogany table. Julian finally looked at me, his voice dismissive. He said he would still go through with our wedding, but demanded I stop making life difficult for Hailey. Without a single second of hesitation, I bypassed the Carter family’s contract and picked up the very last folder. “Grandpa, I choose Greyson Vance.”

Amelia’s POV My arm was sliced open, a four-inch gash oozing blood that dripped steadily onto the floor. But the fiancé I had nearly died saving didn’t care. The moment he opened his eyes, his only concern was whether Hailey Sterling was scared. Inside the VIP conference room of the Cole building, the silence was suffocating. Last night, a massive display shelf in the exhibition hall had collapsed. I had shoved Julian out of the way, but my own arm was ripped open by a jagged, rusty metal bracket. Now, Julian walked in with a small bandage on his forehead. He walked right past me, bleeding and pale, and wrapped his arms around Hailey, who was sobbing softly. “Don’t cry, Hailey. I remember you.” Hailey clung to his chest, her voice trembling. “Julian, I thought you forgot about me.” Julian’s mother smiled nervously at me. “Amelia, sweetie, Julian bumped his head last night. His memory is just a bit scrambled. You two grew up together, so I’m sure you’ll wait for him to recover, right?” I stared at the hugging couple. My wound felt freezing cold, matching the ice in my chest. Right then, a familiar, furious voice echoed in my head. “That pathetic jerk is faking amnesia! In your last life, he used this exact trick to manipulate you. He drained our family’s fortune to climb to the top while keeping Hailey safe. You died alone in a hospital bed because of them! I am still so angry!” My pupils shrunk. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. It was my Grandma Martha’s voice. She had died seven years ago! This was a wake-up call. Julian was faking amnesia just to back out of our engagement without looking like the bad guy. My grandfather, Arthur Cole, tapped his cane heavily against the floor. He signaled his assistant to lay out the marriage contracts. “Amelia, whoever you choose will get the Cole Group’s ten-billion-dollar project. I’m only asking you once. Have you made up your mind?” The Carter family’s proposal sat right in the middle. The very last one belonged to Greyson Vance. He was the sole heir of the Vance Group. We had been rivals since childhood, arguing every single time we met. Grandma’s voice screamed in my head. “Pick Greyson! In your past life, after the Carters threw you out, he was the only one who searched for you in the pouring rain and took you in. He has a sarcastic mouth, but his heart is pure gold! Amelia, trust me!” Julian finally deigned to look at me. “I will still marry you, Amelia. But Hailey is fragile. I love her now, so you have to promise not to bully her.” Hailey peeked from behind his back. “Amelia, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to be the only one Julian remembers.” In the past, if Julian even frowned, I would blame myself. But now, looking at his lying, smug face, I just felt sick. I didn’t hesitate. I reached past the Carter family’s folder and grabbed the last proposal. “Grandpa, I choose Greyson Vance.” “I’ll marry him.” The room erupted into chaos. The calm mask on Julian’s face shattered. He stared at me in pure disbelief. “Amelia, are you insane? You’re throwing away our future and choosing an enemy just to throw a tantrum?!” I didn’t even look at him. In front of everyone, I ripped off the promise bracelet I had worn for ten years and threw it onto the Carter family’s folder like trash. “It’s not a tantrum. You simply don’t deserve me.” In my head, Grandma cheered. “Yes! That’s my girl! If a man is trash, throw him in the dumpster!” As soon as the meeting ended, Julian and his friends blocked my path in the hallway. His friend, Tyler Brooks, sneered immediately. “Amelia, are you serious about Greyson? Come on, everyone knows you’ve been obsessed with Julian for years. He just has temporary memory loss, he’s not dead. Who are you trying to put a show for?” Hearing this, Julian’s expression softened, his ego returning. He looked down at me. “I know you’re just angry. I’ll still marry you. But Hailey just got back to the country. Don’t go around bothering her.” Grandma spat in my mind. “The nerve of this guy! Who does he think he is?” I scoffed. “And how exactly did I bother her?” Before the words fully left my mouth, Hailey pushed a heavy metal cart loaded with files right toward me. She acted like she didn’t see me, ramming it straight into my injured arm. My wound tore open again. Fresh blood soaked through my bandage instantly. Yet, Hailey cried louder than me. “Amelia! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please don’t hate me!” She sobbed, shrinking behind Julian. Julian didn’t even look at my bleeding arm. He shielded Hailey protectively. “Amelia! It was an accident! She apologized, what more do you want?!” Hailey raised her hand. “Maybe I should slap myself… if that makes Amelia feel better…” Julian grabbed her wrist, glaring at me. “Are you happy now? Do you have to use your status as the Cole heiress to bully people?” If this were the past, I would have desperately explained that I didn’t do anything. But today, I realized trying to reason with an idiot was pointless. It was better to just hit them. I stepped forward, raising my uninjured right hand. Smack! A loud, solid slap landed squarely on Hailey’s face. The hallway went dead silent. Hailey touched her swelling cheek, her eyes wide with shock. “That,” I said coldly, “is what using my status to bully someone actually looks like.” Julian lost his mind. “Amelia! How dare you!” Smack! I swung back and slapped Julian right across his face. “And that is what bullying looks like. Got it?” I shook my numb hand, looking at them like they were bugs. Julian had been pampered his entire life. This slap completely shattered his pride. Rage burned in his eyes. “Amelia! If you walk away today, I swear, even if you beg me on your knees, I will never look at you again!” “Then you better sew your eyes shut.” I pressed the elevator button. As the doors slid open, I left him with one last line: “Because no one is going to wait for you by the trash can.” As the doors closed, Grandma laughed hysterically in my head. “Incredible! That’s how you teach them a lesson! Don’t be afraid, Amelia, I’ve got your back!”

Amelia’s POV I walked toward the break room and heard Hailey’s muffled giggles coming through the gap in the door. “Julian, Amelia slapped you in public. Are you really not mad?” Julian’s voice was arrogant and cold. “She’s just throwing a fit. She’s been clinging to me like a desperate dog for years. She can’t live without me. I bet you within three days, she’ll come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.” Standing outside, my blood turned to ice. The amnesia was indeed a lie. The manipulation and contempt were real. He viewed me as a toy he could discard and retrieve whenever he pleased. “See? He’s a parasite!” Grandma was shaking with rage. “If a dog bites you, don’t try to talk to it. Let’s go!” I turned to leave, but a sudden commotion happened at the end of the hallway. A waiter slipped, and a tray of boiling hot coffee and shattered ceramic cups came flying right toward me. The break room door flew open. Julian saw the hot liquid flying toward my face. He instinctively took a step toward me, but Hailey shrieked and grabbed his arm. “Julian, I’m scared!” That split second of hesitation was all it took. Julian turned and hugged Hailey instead. I closed my eyes, bracing for the pain. But right before the boiling coffee could scald my face, a pair of strong arms pulled me hard into a broad chest. A man used his expensive designer jacket to shield me, blocking every drop of hot coffee and flying shard. A clean, cedarwood scent wrapped around me, and a deep voice grumbled over my head. “Amelia, are you stupid? Why didn’t you dodge?!” I looked up in shock. Greyson Vance was frowning, his dark eyes filled with suppressed anger. He stood before me like a wall, keeping me safe from the danger. Grandma let out a huge sigh of relief in my head. “That’s him! That’s the same protective back from your past life! He might have a smart mouth, but he actually shows up when it matters!” Julian’s face turned green when he saw who it was. He marched over and ordered, “Amelia, get over here!” I didn’t move. Greyson sneered, keeping his hand firmly on my shoulder. He glared at Julian like a wolf guarding his territory. “Her arm is literally bleeding, and you want her to go over to you so she can be your shield again?” Julian’s face flushed with anger. “This is between her and me!” “Not anymore.” Greyson smirked. “Amelia’s grandfather called me to pick up my fiancée. She chose me. Mr. Carter, don’t tell me you don’t know you’ve been dumped yet?” The word “fiancée” hit Julian like a sledgehammer. Hailey stopped crying out of sheer shock. Julian stared at me as if I were a stranger. “Are you crazy? You’re marrying this jerk just to get back at me?” This time, my heart didn’t ache. I only felt an incredible rush of freedom. “Julian, don’t flatter yourself. Greyson is ten thousand times better than you.” Greyson raised an eyebrow, looking down at me. “Can you walk, fiancée?” I nodded. He didn’t overstep by carrying me, but he offered his arm. “Let’s go get you patched up.” At the hospital. The doctor cut open my bloody sleeve. As the disinfectant hit the wound, I turned pale and bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. Greyson leaned against the doorframe, watching me coldly. “In the past, you’d cry for hours if Julian so much as sighed. Now your arm is practically ripped open, and you’re acting tough?” I glared at him. “No one will think you’re mute if you keep your mouth shut.” Greyson chuckled. “What? You were pretty quick to use me as a shield earlier.” I stayed quiet for a moment, then whispered, “Greyson, I didn’t choose you because I like you.” “Obviously. If you suddenly liked me, I’d have the doctor check your head too.” Greyson stopped smiling and looked at me with intense seriousness. “Amelia, you can use me to escape. But remember this: once you’re engaged to me, Julian has no right to touch you. Don’t you dare run back to him the moment you feel a little lonely.” “I would rather die than go back to him,” I said firmly. Greyson stared at me for three seconds, a faint smile touching his lips. “Good.” When we walked out of the clinic, Julian and Hailey were waiting by the exit. Seeing us walk out side-by-side, Julian’s face was incredibly dark. “Amelia, I’m taking you home. Stop making a scene in public.” He really believed I was just playing hard to get. Greyson casually switched the medicine bag to his left hand, and naturally wrapped his right arm around my waist, pulling me close. “No need to worry, Mr. Carter. The only one looking pathetic here is the one who got thrown out.” Julian’s eyes turned red as he stared at Greyson’s hand on my waist. “Take your hands off her!” Greyson didn’t back down. He leaned in close to my ear, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “Fiancée, there’s a dog blocking our path. Shall we go?” I leaned into his chest and nodded. “Yes, let’s go.” At the curb, Greyson opened the car door for me, naturally placing his hand over the frame to protect my head. As he got into the driver’s seat, I asked softly, “Why did you show up so fast?” Greyson started the engine. “Your grandfather called and said two stray dogs were barking at you.” “So you just came?” “Why wouldn’t I?” Greyson stepped on the gas, the sports car roaring as we left Julian in the dust. “Did you want me to leave you there to watch their cheap drama?” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. In my mind, Grandma clicked her tongue in satisfaction. “See? That’s a real man! Let the trash have the trash. Your good life is just starting!”

Amelia’s POV The Cole family’s banquet to announce the new marriage alliance was scheduled for two days later. During those two days, Julian called me over a dozen times. I blocked every single number. Finally, he sent a text message filled with his usual arrogance: Don’t take this joke too far. Our families’ alliance is not a toy for you to use to make me bow to you. Hailey has been crying for two days because of your slap. I expect an apology from you at the banquet tonight. I stared at the screen, scoffed, and handed the phone directly to my grandfather. My grandfather’s face darkened with rage after reading it. “Amelia, I really misjudged that boy.” I sat in the study, looking at my bandaged arm calmly. “Grandpa, I did too. This time, I want to choose someone who won’t hesitate to stand by me.” Grandma clapped happily in my head. “Exactly! A man who doesn’t respect himself is like rotten cabbage! Tonight, let’s show the Carters what it means to be out of their league!” That evening, the Cole estate was brightly lit. Everyone assumed the stars of the night would be Julian and me. Julian’s mother was wearing a designer gown, boasting to the guests. “Oh, Amelia is practically my own daughter. Julian marrying her is our family’s blessing.” She was already acting like she owned the place. Julian stood in the center of the crowd holding a glass of champagne, looking extremely confident. Hailey stood beside him in a simple white dress. When people asked about her identity, she looked down. “I’m just Julian’s friend. I don’t want to get in the way of his engagement with Amelia…” Her victim act made me look like some villainous, jealous woman. I watched from the entrance with absolute indifference. The grand doors opened, and I walked in, holding my grandfather’s arm. Julian’s eyes lit up the moment he saw me. He took a step forward, but the crowd suddenly parted. Greyson had arrived. He wore a custom black suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and tall frame. His expression was cold and sharp. He ignored the guests trying to greet him and walked straight to me. In front of everyone, he ignored Julian entirely and asked softly, “Does your arm still hurt?” I blinked, touched by his concern. “Much better.” Greyson checked my bandage to make sure there was no blood, then turned to my grandfather, his cold demeanor softening. “Mr. Cole, apologies for being late.” My grandfather laughed heartily. “Just in time!” Not far away, Julian’s face turned pale. He stared at Greyson and me standing together. Hailey leaned against him weakly. “Julian, Amelia looks so beautiful tonight. She must be standing with Mr. Vance just to make you jealous. Don’t be mad, I’ll go talk to her later…” “Shut up,” Julian snapped, his eyes glued to me. I felt his gaze, but I felt absolutely nothing. My grandfather stepped onto the stage, and the ballroom fell silent. Julian’s mother was still daydreaming, nudging Julian to get ready to walk up. But Julian’s feet felt like they were glued to the floor as he watched Greyson stand mere inches from me. My grandfather raised the microphone, his strong voice echoing through the hall. “Thank you all for coming. Tonight, I want you to witness my granddaughter Amelia’s engagement. The Cole family and the Vance family have finalized our alliance. Amelia is now officially engaged to Greyson Vance!” The room erupted into shocked whispers! The smile on Julian’s mother’s face froze. She pushed through the crowd, outraged. “Mr. Cole! There must be a mistake! Amelia and Julian grew up together! Isn’t the alliance with the Carters?!” My grandfather looked down at her with a cold sneer. “Grew up together? Does that give your son the right to treat my granddaughter like garbage?” Julian’s mother turned pale. Julian pushed through the crowd, staring at me, his voice shaking. “Amelia, are you serious? You’re playing with your own marriage just to hurt me?” My voice was crystal clear. “I told you, I choose Greyson. I never play games.” Seeing this, Hailey rushed forward with teary eyes. “Amelia! Is this because of me? If you’re angry, I’ll leave right now! Don’t ruin your life over a tantrum. Julian loves you!” The guests’ looks turned suspicious. Before I could speak, Greyson let out a cold laugh. “Miss Sterling, if you donated your brain, I doubt anyone would want it.” Greyson’s eyes were like ice as he exposed her in front of everyone. “You claim you care about Amelia, yet you’re clinging to her ex-fiancé like glue? This isn’t a soap opera. Julian is just trash that the Cole family threw out. There’s no need to play the tragic martyr here.” Someone in the crowd laughed out loud. Hailey’s face flushed bright red, tears stuck on her lashes. Julian stepped in front of her, furious. “Greyson! Watch your mouth!” Greyson calmly dusted off his sleeve, looking at him with utter disdain. “Did you watch yours when you treated Amelia like trash? Oh, does it hurt now? Deal with it.” Julian was shaking with rage. I watched silently. In the past, I would have desperately explained myself to avoid Julian’s misunderstanding. But now, Greyson stood by my side, slapping every lie back into their faces. In my mind, Grandma laughed happily. “Amazing! I love this guy! You have to scald trash with boiling water!”

Amelia’s POV As the banquet drew to a close, Julian cornered me in a quiet hallway like a desperate dog. His eyes were bloodshot. “Amelia, you win! You got your revenge, and you dragged my family’s name through the mud! If you call off this fake engagement right now, I will take you to get our marriage license tomorrow!” Even now, he still thought I was playing hard to get. I looked at his face, a face I used to love, and found it pathetic. “Julian, do you have trouble understanding English?” I looked at him coldly. “I didn’t do this to win.” “I did this because you genuinely disgust me.” I shoved past his shoulder and walked away. At the end of the hallway, I let out a long breath. Greyson handed me a glass of warm water, smirking. “You looked so tough back there, but now your legs are shaking?” I took the glass and glared at him. “Would you die if you stopped teasing me for one second?” “Probably.” Greyson looked at me, a rare warmth in his dark eyes. “But honestly, Amelia, you did great tonight.” My eyes welled up with tears. Suddenly, a commotion broke out near the restroom. Hailey was sitting on the wet floor, her dress ruined, clutching a broken bracelet, sobbing. She claimed she only wanted to look at my engagement bracelet, but I pushed her. By the time I arrived, Julian had already helped her up. His first words to me were a demand. “Why did you push her?” I looked at the broken bracelet in Hailey’s hand. It wasn’t my engagement bracelet. Mine was still securely on my wrist. The fake one Hailey held was cheap and dull. But because she was crying so hard, the onlookers were already whispering about my “terrible temper.” Grandma cursed in my head. “Again with this trick! In your past life, she broke your jewelry and cried, making you look like the bad guy! Don’t let her get away with it!” I didn’t rush to defend myself. I walked up to Hailey, kneeled down, and asked calmly, “You say I pushed you?” Hailey flinched, shrinking into Julian’s arms. “Amelia, I don’t blame you. You’re just stressed today. I know you didn’t mean it.” “So you’re saying I did.” I nodded, grabbed Hailey’s wrist, and took the broken bracelet from her hand. Hailey shrieked, “What are you doing?!” I held the broken bracelet up to the light for everyone to see. “The diamonds on my bracelet are custom-cut, and there is a Cole family crest engraved on the inner band. Many people here have seen it. This cheap plastic piece in your hand doesn’t have the crest.” Julian’s face changed. Hailey stopped crying for a second, then quickly stammered, “I… I don’t know about jewelry. I just saw yours and wanted to look…” Greyson walked through the crowd, his voice chilling. “You don’t know about jewelry, but you certainly know how to pick a restroom with no cameras to stage a fall.” Hailey looked at him with teary eyes. “Mr. Vance, why do you keep targeting me?” “Because your acting is terrible.” Greyson turned to the staff. “Check who entered the restroom. There are too many eyes at this party. Crying loud doesn’t make you right.” A young waitress stepped forward, hesitating. “I… I saw this lady squatting by the door by herself. She was holding something the whole time. Miss Cole only walked in after she was already on the floor.” Hailey’s face drained of color. Julian tried to find an excuse. “Maybe she was just confused because she was scared.” I looked at him, the last trace of warmth in my heart freezing over. “Julian, you will always find an excuse for her.” Julian opened his mouth, but no words came out. Hailey sobbed, shaking her head. “No, Amelia, I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just afraid you hated me…” I tossed the fake bracelet into the trash can. “What you’re afraid of is none of my business. Next time you want to put on a show, use something cheap. You are not worthy of touching anything related to my family.” I turned and walked away. Greyson followed me, draping his jacket over my shoulders. “Thank you,” I murmured. “For what?” Greyson’s tone was still teasing. “If you had started explaining yourself back there, I would have really lost respect for you.” I glared at him. Grandma laughed in my head. “Good glare. In a marriage, you can’t let the man always have the upper hand.” My ears turned red. We weren’t even married yet, and Grandma was already calling it a marriage. Greyson noticed my red ears. “Are you cursing at me in your head?” “What?” I gasped. “Whenever you curse at me, your face gives it away.” Feeling guilty, I snapped, “You think too much.” Greyson didn’t push. He adjusted the jacket around my shoulders. “Let’s go. Your grandfather is looking for you. You did great tonight, don’t ruin it by catching a cold.” Hearing him say “fiancée” made my heart skip a beat. When Julian said it, it felt like a chore. But when Greyson said it, it felt safe. Grandma whispered, “Amelia, is your heart fluttering?” I replied internally, “No.” Grandma smirked. “Sure, honey. I’m not blind.” Greyson drove me back to the Cole estate. As I reached for the door handle, he stopped me. “Are you free tomorrow?” I looked at him warily. “Why?” “My grandmother wants to meet you,” he said. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll tell her no.” I blinked in surprise. I thought he would just demand I go, but he actually asked for my consent first. Grandma murmured, “He has manners.” I thought about it. “I’ll go. Since we are engaged, it’s only right to meet your family.” Greyson nodded, adding, “My grandmother’s name is Evelyn. She’s very direct. If she says something you don’t like, just argue back. No one in the Vance family will make you swallow your pride.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Is that how your family teaches you to treat guests?” “Our family doesn’t teach people to take insult.”

Amelia’s POV His words were quiet, but they made my heart swell. When I visited the Carters in the past, everyone praised me for being “obedient.” Obedient meant waiting for Julian when he was busy, yielding to Hailey when she arrived, and letting Julian’s mother walk all over me. The next day, I prepared myself for a difficult meeting with his grandmother. Mrs. Evelyn Vance sat in the garden. Despite her white hair, her eyes were sharp. She looked me up and down. “I heard you used to be obsessed with the Carter heir?” Greyson frowned. “Grandmother.” Evelyn waved her hand dismissively. “I’m asking her, not you.” I didn’t dodge the question. “I was.” “And now?” “Not anymore.” Evelyn stared at me for a few seconds, then smiled. “Good. Loving the wrong person isn’t embarrassing. Knowing they are trash and still jumping back into the dumpster is.” Grandma Martha nodded vigorously in my head. “I like this old lady! She speaks the truth!” Greyson drank his tea, hiding a smile. For the first time, I felt like this alliance wasn’t as cold as I thought. In the afternoon, Evelyn showed me an old photo album. There were pictures of Greyson as a boy, looking grumpy in the yard, while a younger me made faces at him in the background. I was stunned. “I don’t remember this.” Evelyn chuckled. “You had just argued with him, promising you’d never talk to him again. Then you turned around and stole his birthday cake.” Greyson cleared his throat. “Grandmother, that’s enough.” I stared at the photo. It turned out Greyson and I weren’t always enemies. In the years I had ignored, he was always there, standing just a little out of my sight. As we prepared to leave, Evelyn held my hand. “If you ever feel wronged, come to me. Don’t be afraid of Greyson. He looks mean, but his heart is soft.” Greyson coughed behind us. I smiled. “I will. Thank you.” Next, I decided to go to the Carter estate to pack up my belongings. This wasn’t a sudden decision. Growing up with Julian meant I had left too many things at his house. Books, photos, gifts, a scarf I spent weeks knitting, and a necklace Julian claimed he was “keeping safe” for me. Grandma said a clean break required action. “Take everything back. Leave nothing behind. Let them know you aren’t playing games; you are truly gone.” I agreed. I didn’t sneak in. I had the Cole family driver park right at their front door and brought two movers with me. Julian’s mother came out, her smile stiff. “Amelia? Julian isn’t home. Why don’t you come in and wait?” “No need,” I said. “I’m just here to take my things. I’ll leave once I’m done.” Her smile vanished. Several Carter relatives were in the living room, whispering. In the past, I would bring them gifts and help host. Today, I didn’t even take off my shoes. Julian’s mother whispered, “Amelia, let’s talk when Julian gets back. You two have years of history. Making a scene like this is embarrassing.” I replied calmly, “I didn’t start this.” The movers went upstairs and quickly brought down several boxes. The first was full of my books, the second was old gifts, and the third had albums and the hand-knitted scarf. I touched the dark grey scarf, my fingers pausing. I had stayed up late learning how to knit because Julian said he was cold in the winter. But after Hailey returned, he never wore it once, claiming it didn’t match his style. I pulled the scarf out and threw it into the trash can in front of everyone. Julian’s mother gasped. “Amelia!” I picked up the photo album. It was filled with photos of Julian and me. I didn’t tear them; I simply took out my solo photos and left the rest on the table. “These belong to the Carters’ memories, not mine.” Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires echoed outside. Julian rushed in, his face dark as he saw the boxes. “Amelia, what the hell are you doing?” “Moving out.” “Do you have to make a joke out of us?” I looked at him. “Julian, I kept my things here because I thought I was welcome. Now I know I’m not. What’s so funny about that?” Julian grabbed my wrist. “Have you had enough of this tantrum?” He squeezed hard, aggravating my injured arm. I gasped in pain. In the next second, Greyson’s voice boomed from the door. “Let go of her.” He had arrived with his own driver. When Julian didn’t let go, Greyson marched over, grabbed Julian’s wrist, and forced him back. “She said she’s leaving. Are you deaf?” Julian grit his teeth. “This is between her and me.” “She’s my fiancée now.” Greyson’s eyes were freezing. “Before you touch her, remember your place.” I grabbed the last necklace from the table and put it in my bag. I turned to Julian’s mother. “You don’t need to save a room for me anymore.” I walked out of the house. The sun was bright outside. The boxes were loaded into the trunk. Grandma whispered gently, “This is how you leave, Amelia.” I sat in the car, never looking back. I knew Julian was watching, and I knew if I looked back even once, he would think he still had a chance. Greyson sat next to me, unusually quiet. After a long time, he asked, “Does it hurt?” I touched my bruised wrist. “A little.” “I wasn’t asking about your wrist.” I froze. The Carter estate grew smaller in the rearview mirror. I whispered, “It hurts. But I can bear it.” Greyson kept his eyes on the road. “You don’t have to keep bearing it. From now on, if it hurts, say so. If you want to scream, do it. You didn’t leave the Carters just to learn how to be quiet.” My eyes stung, and I gave a quiet nod.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443799”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

During the seventh year of my secret relationship with Brandon Vance, we attended our firm’s annual ski retreat in Aspen. During the team lottery, he cheated so he could pair up with Hailey Thorne, his first love who had just returned to the country. In front of everyone, he handed my custom heated gloves to Hailey and said softly, “You get cold easily. Put these on.” The crowd went wild, cheering about how they were “meant to be.” I didn’t say a word. Instead, I quietly accepted the blue draft card handed to me by Julian Sterling, a man notorious in the venture capital world for his ruthless, cold-blooded tactics. Late that night, Brandon sent me a text: “Don’t throw a tantrum. This is just a test to see if you’re mature enough to handle being Mrs. Vance.” At that exact moment, I threw the seven-year anniversary watch I had custom-ordered for him straight into the deep snow. If anyone wanted to be the future Mrs. Vance, they could have the job. I was officially done. The snow in Aspen was heavy, but the heating inside the luxury chalet was so intense it made my skin itch. I stood on the outermost edge of the crowd, watching Logan Miller carry a raffle box to the center of the grand hall. “Alright, everyone! The rules for this year’s backcountry ski rally have changed!” Logan yelled excitedly, scanning the room. “Co-ed pairs, blind draw! If you pull the same color, you’re locked in. For the next three days and two nights in the wilderness, you survive together!” Whistles and cheers immediately erupted throughout the hall. The investment banking world is small. These men and women, usually suffocating in tight suits, loved nothing more than a little forced proximity and thrill in the wild. Hailey Thorne, wrapped in an expensive white mink coat, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, shrank timidly behind Brandon. The corner of Brandon’s mouth ticked upward. His tall frame shifted subtly, shielding her from the draft near the door. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. “I’ve got you.” “Oh, look at Brandon already playing the knight in shining armor! The rest of us better watch out on the slopes. Don’t run into his princess, or Brandon will have our heads!” The teasing grew louder and louder. I lowered my eyes, my hand stuffed deep into my coat pocket. My fingers tightly gripped the blue plastic card I had just drawn. No one knew that ten minutes before the game started, I had been standing near the second-floor stairwell. I had heard Logan whisper to Brandon: “Brandon, I marked the red cards. They’re at the very bottom right of the box. I kept them special for you and Hailey. That’s the best I can do for you, man.” And Brandon had merely given a casual, confident grunt in response. In our seven years of dating, he had never once acknowledged my existence in public. Before this trip, he had even asked me to book economy class while he flew first class. His excuse? “People at the firm talk too much, Chloe. For our future, we need to keep our distance.” And I had believed him. I genuinely thought that once this retreat was over and he was officially promoted to Managing Partner, he would fulfill his promise from seven years ago—to make our relationship public and propose to me. But now, he was walking toward the raffle box. His long fingers reached in, pulling out the marked red card with absolute precision. A second later, Hailey “coincidentally” pulled out a red card as well. “Oh my god—red! A perfect match!” Logan clapped, and the entire room erupted. Hailey’s face flushed red. She looked up at Brandon with watery, sparkling eyes. “Brandon, it looks like I’m going to be a burden to you for the next three days. I’m still such a terrible skier…” “It’s fine,” Brandon said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. He untied his cashmere scarf and wrapped it gently around her neck. “I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.” At that moment, my heart felt like it had been plunged into the freezing Colorado snow. That scarf… I had spent three months knitting it for him, stitch by stitch. I took a deep, shaky breath, pushing down the bitter taste in my throat, and raised my blue card. “Who has the blue card?” I asked. My voice wasn’t loud, but in the suddenly quiet room, it carried perfectly. Everyone’s eyes snapped to me. Logan blinked, trying to laugh it off. “Chloe, tough luck. Blue is the extreme backcountry route. It’s the most dangerous. Want me to swap it for you?” “No need,” I cut him off, my gaze sweeping the room. Hearing my voice, Brandon raised his head. Our eyes met through the crowd. His brow furrowed, his eyes flashing with a familiar, warning look that said: “Don’t start acting up now.” Just then, a cool, deep voice drifted over from the corner sofa. “I have it.” The crowd turned, gasping collectively. The man sitting in the corner stood up. He wore a minimalist black ski jacket. He was tall, with sharp, striking features, and carried an aura of absolute authority that warned everyone to stay away. It was Julian Sterling. The youngest, most ruthless venture capital titan on Wall Street, and the primary sponsor of this entire retreat. He walked over to me, opening his palm. A blue card lay quietly in his hand. “Looks like we’re partners, Chloe.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly turned tense. Nobody expected a mid-level investment director like me to be paired with a cold-blooded industry giant like Julian. Brandon’s face darkened visibly. He took a step forward, as if to say something, but Hailey gently tugged at his sleeve. “Brandon, my head hurts. I think the altitude is getting to me.” Brandon froze. His attention was instantly pulled back to Hailey. “Let me take you upstairs to rest.” Watching their retreating backs, I let out a mocking laugh. This was the man I had loved for seven years. For seven years, I had stood by him when he was just a broke kid, fighting alongside him until he secured his VP position. I had taken the fall for him in corporate politics, stayed up countless nights writing his due diligence reports, and even drank myself into a bleeding stomach ulcer at client dinners just to save his projects. Back then, he had held my hand by the hospital bed, his eyes red as he swore, “Chloe, once I make it to the top, I’ll give you the most beautiful wedding in the world.” But the moment Hailey—the college sweetheart who had dumped him for a rich guy, only to return now that she was divorced—reappeared, my seven years of devotion became nothing but a joke. That night, everyone gathered around the outdoor fire pit for a game of Truth or Dare. Hailey had changed into a form-fitting sweater, leaning closely against Brandon. The empty beer bottle spun, pointing directly at Hailey. Logan smirked. “Hailey, truth or dare?” “Truth,” she said with a gentle smile. “What is your biggest regret in life?” The entire circle fell quiet. Hailey lowered her head, her eyes welling with tears. She stole a quick glance at Brandon. “I regret being too young and foolish… and letting go of the boy who loved me more than anything.” A collective, knowing sigh rippled through the crowd. Brandon’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t look at Hailey, but the storm in his eyes was impossible to hide. The bottle spun again. This time, it stopped right in front of me. “Chloe, your turn!” Logan’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Truth. Do you have a boyfriend?” I raised my head. Brandon’s gaze finally locked onto me. He was tense. He was terrified. Terrified that I would lose my mind and expose our seven-year relationship in front of everyone, ruining his touching reunion with his first love. Looking at his handsome, selfish face, a wave of nausea hit me. I picked up my glass of ice water, took a sip, and said calmly, “No. I’m completely single.” The second the words left my mouth, I clearly saw Brandon’s tense shoulders relax. But then, his brows knit together again, seemingly annoyed by how easily and cleanly I had denied him. “Single is great!” Logan quickly filled the silence. “Julian is single too. Sounds like the blue team might have some sparks flying!” Julian, who had been sitting quietly beside me playing with his lighter, let out a soft chuckle. “I certainly hope so.” Those five simple words were like a boulder dropped into a quiet pond. Brandon’s face turned completely black.

When I got back to my room that night, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. It was a barrage of messages from Brandon on Snapchat. “What the hell was that tonight?” “Why are you getting so close to Julian Sterling? Do you have any idea how ruthless he is in this industry?” “Hailey just got back to the States and her mental state is fragile. I’m only looking after her because of our history. Stop acting like a bitter housewife.” Looking at the gaslighting texts on my screen, I didn’t even have the energy to reply. A few minutes later, another message popped up, his tone softening: “Chloe, be good. Just put up with it for a few days. Don’t throw a tantrum. When we get back to New York, I’ll buy you that Chanel bag you wanted.” A slap in the face, followed by a sweet treat. For seven years, he had trained me like a dog with this exact method. Whenever I complained, he would say, “You’re going to be my wife, Chloe. You need to look at the bigger picture. Don’t be petty like other girls.” I shut my phone off completely and tossed it onto the nightstand. The next morning, the backcountry ski rally officially began. The Aspen backcountry was steep, and the temperature had plummeted to negative twenty. Before heading out, I realized I hadn’t packed enough hand warmers. My hands were already stiffening. Brandon walked over holding two pairs of high-end heated ski gloves. We had bought them together before the trip—one pair for him, one for me. I reached out to take them, but he walked right past me, straight to Hailey. “Hailey, your hands get cold easily. Wear these. The heating chip inside lasts for eight hours.” Hailey looked up, pleasantly surprised. “What about you?” “I’m fine. I run hot anyway,” Brandon said, smiling as he ruffled her hair. The colleagues standing around murmured about what a gentleman Brandon was. I stood there, looking at my red, freezing fingers. The very last spark of affection in my heart died right then and there. “Hands out.” A deep voice sounded from above me. I looked up to find Julian standing in front of me. Without waiting for my response, he took my freezing hands and pulled a pair of heavy, warm black professional ski gloves over them. They still held the warmth of his body. “These are…” “My spares,” he said flatly, not even sparing a glance at Brandon. “I don’t like my partner slowing me down because of frostbite.” Though his words were blunt, the warmth of the gloves made my throat tight with unshed tears. Brandon noticed the exchange. His face darkened, and he strode over, grabbing my arm. “Chloe, we need to talk.” He dragged me behind a large pine tree and hissed in a low, furious voice, “Are you insane? Accepting things from another man right in front of me?” I yanked my arm out of his grip and stared at him coldly. “Where were you when my hands were freezing to death?” “I told you, Hailey gets cold easily!” Brandon said, completely righteous. “You’re tough, Chloe. What’s wrong with making a small sacrifice? When did you become so selfish?” I let out a bitter laugh. Me? Selfish? For seven years, I had poured my youth, my career, and my resources into him. And in return, I was called “selfish.” “Brandon,” I said, my voice so quiet and calm it surprised me. “I don’t want your gloves anymore. I don’t want anything of yours.” Without waiting for his reply, I turned and walked back to Julian.

The backcountry route was far more grueling than I had anticipated. Julian was an incredible skier, but he never sped ahead to leave me behind. He stayed exactly three yards ahead of me, carving a path through the fresh powder, stopping at every dangerous turn to wait for me. “Keep your center of gravity low. Don’t be afraid,” his voice came through the walkie-talkie, steady and incredibly grounding. Meanwhile, the red team was a disaster. Hailey screamed the entire way, constantly wiping out or getting her skis stuck. Brandon hovered over her, even taking off his own outer jacket to lay it on the snow so she could sit and rest. During our lunch break at the mid-mountain lodge, I was holding a mug of hot water to warm my hands. Hailey walked over, her eyes rimmed with red. “Chloe,” she said, biting her lip with a victimized expression. “I’m so sorry. I know you and Brandon are close colleagues. He’s been so busy taking care of me that he ignored you. Please don’t be mad at him.” On the surface, it was an apology. In reality, she was claiming ownership, while subtly reducing my seven-year history with Brandon to being “close colleagues.” Before I could speak, Brandon strode over, instantly pulling Hailey behind him. “Chloe, Hailey is easily frightened. Stop giving her attitude.” Looking at Brandon’s protective stance, I found it utterly pathetic. “Brandon, which of your eyes saw me giving her attitude?” “Don’t lie,” Brandon said, his brow furrowed with deep disappointment. “I know you’re upset. But Hailey just got back to the country. She has no one else here. As her old friend, it’s only right that I help her.” “As a senior director of the firm, you have no professional grace. You’re behaving like a jealous child. I’m truly disappointed in you.” I looked at him as if he were a stranger. This was the man I had loved. To protect another woman, he didn’t hesitate to drag my name through the mud in public. “Are you done?” I set my mug down, not giving him another second of my time. “If you’re done, get lost. You’re ruining my lunch.” Infuriated by my dismissive tone, Brandon was about to snap when Julian walked over, carrying two plates of grilled steak. He sat down right next to me, sliding one plate in front of me, his voice casual but dripping with authority. “Eat up. You need to keep your strength. Don’t waste your energy on irrelevant people.” “Julian, don’t cross the line!” Brandon spat, his teeth clenched. Julian didn’t even look up. He cut a piece of steak, chewed it slowly, and then finally raised his cold eyes to Brandon. “Aren’t you overstepping, Brandon?” Julian’s voice was like ice. “You protect your ex, I protect my partner. We mind our own business. Or what? Are you trying to keep both?” Brandon’s face went pale. Julian’s sharp words hit him right where it hurt, leaving him completely speechless. He glared at me one last time, grabbed Hailey’s hand, and stormed off.

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On the day of my wedding dress fitting, the zipper got stuck on my back. But instead of helping me, Carter took a phone call and walked out of the massive bridal boutique, leaving me all by myself. His excuse? His ex-girlfriend’s Samoyed, Cotton, was depressed and on a hunger strike. Carter just “had” to go and hand-feed him. This was the seventh time this month he had abandoned me for that dog. All because of a ridiculous pact they made when they broke up: “Whenever the dog has an emotional breakdown, both “parents” must be present to comfort him.” I stared at myself in the mirror, looking like a total joke in a half-finished wedding gown. Finally, I dialed the number I had ignored for three long years. “Damian Vance… does your offer from three years ago still stand?” On the other end of the line, the most ruthless and cold-blooded billionaire in New York’s elite circle spoke with a raspy, suppressed, and wild voice: “Ten minutes. I’m coming to get you. Chloe, you walked into my trap this time. Don’t even think about escaping for the rest of your life.” Later, Carter would kneel in the pouring rain, eyes bloodshot, begging me to look at him just one last time. But Damian simply wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing the cold tip of his black umbrella against Carter’s chin. “Get lost. Don’t dirty my wife’s eyes.”

The AC in the luxury bridal boutique was blasting, and goosebumps broke out across my bare back. The zipper of the wedding dress was stuck right at my waist. I reached behind, straining my arms, but I couldn’t pull it up no matter how hard I tried. “Carter, can you help me?” I called out through the curtain of the fitting room. No response. I pushed the curtain open just a crack. Carter was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, on the phone. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo—the groom’s suit we had just picked out yesterday. Right now, his brows were tightly knit, his voice filled with a rare, anxious tenderness. “Melody, don’t cry. What’s wrong with Cotton? Is he refusing to eat again?” Hearing the names “Melody” and “Cotton,” my fingers on the curtain froze. My fingertips turned a ghostly, bloodless white. Melody. His ex-girlfriend. Cotton. The Samoyed they adopted together. “Okay, don’t be scared. I’m on my way.” Carter hung up, and as he turned around, his eyes met mine. He paused for a second. A flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a calm, matter-of-fact look. “Chloe, I have to go,” he said, walking over. He didn’t even glance at the million-dollar gown I was wearing. “Melody said Cotton has been on a hunger strike since last night. He’s shivering under the couch. You know Article 28 of “The 36 Rules of Cotton’s Co-parenting” states that if the dog shows severe depressive symptoms, both owners must comfort him together.” That damn co-parenting agreement again. This was the seventh time this month. On the day we set our wedding date, he rushed off to sign a dental surgery consent form for Cotton. “Rule 5: Any medical intervention requires joint signatures.” On the day we did our wedding menu tasting, he left halfway through to buy a specific brand of goat milk powder. “Rule 15: Any dietary changes must be inspected by both parties in person.” On the day we mailed our wedding invitations, he spent the entire afternoon at Melody’s apartment watching the rain with Cotton. “Rule 19: Thunderstorms require double companionship.” Every single time, he used that professional, business-like tone to tell me, “Chloe, I promised Melody when we broke up. Cotton is a living soul. I can’t just abandon him. This is just a responsibility. Don’t overthink it.” I stared at him, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with wet cardboard. “Carter, today is our last dress fitting. The designer flew in all the way from Paris, and she’s only staying for two hours.” My voice was quiet, trembling with a pathetic weakness that made even me despise myself. He reached out, habitually trying to ruffle my hair, but I jerked my head away. His hand froze in mid-air. His brows furrowed deeper, his tone dripping with the impatience of a man used to getting his way. “Chloe, you used to be so reasonable. We can reschedule the fitting. I can pay double to fly the designer back here. But Cotton is in critical condition right now. He’s not just a dog—he is Melody’s emotional support animal.” “And what about me?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Does that mean your fiancée will always have to take a backseat to a dog and its owner?” Carter’s face darkened. He hated it when I questioned him like this. “I told you, it’s a responsibility. The agreement is in black and white. I can’t break my word.” He glanced at his Rolex, clearly losing his patience. “Try the dress on by yourself first. Tell the designer if you want any changes. I’ll pick you up later.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, pushing open the heavy glass doors of the boutique. A wave of summer heat rushed in, only to be instantly swallowed by the cold AC. I stood frozen, staring at the mirror. I looked like a complete joke—wearing a gorgeous, expensive wedding dress with a zipper stuck halfway down my back. The assistant walked over cautiously. “Miss Smith… do you want to keep trying?” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, the last trace of moisture in my eyes had evaporated. “No.” I reached behind and yanked the heavy gown down. The rough lace scratched my back, leaving angry red marks, but I didn’t feel a thing. “Miss Smith, about the remaining balance on this dress…” “Cancel the order. Keep the deposit.” I changed back into my own clothes, grabbed my purse, and spoke as calmly as if I were talking about the weather. When I stepped out of the boutique, the harsh sunlight stung my eyes. I pulled out my phone. I didn’t text Carter to scream at him. I didn’t post any depressing rants on Instagram. I simply scrolled to the very bottom of my contact list, staring at the number I had blocked, unblocked in the dead of night, but never actually dialed. Damian Vance. The most untouchable man in the city. Ruthless, cold-blooded, and terrifying. He was also the man who, on a rainy night three years ago, had pinned me against an alley wall with bloodshot eyes, asking me in a broken voice, “Why can’t you choose me?” I pressed the call button. It rang only once before he picked up. No “hello,” no casual greeting. Just heavy, ragged breathing, so intense I could almost feel the heat of a volcano ready to erupt through the screen. “Damian,” I said, my voice incredibly calm. “Does what you said three years ago still stand?” Silence stretched for two seconds. Then, the sharp “click” of a metal lighter echoed. The man’s voice was incredibly raspy, dripping with a dark, obsessive passion. “Chloe, do you have any idea what you’re doing right now?” “I do,” I said, watching the traffic rush by. “I don’t want to wait anymore. If you can…” “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he cut me off brutally. I heard the loud crash of a chair flipping over and people gasping in the background. “Ten minutes. Chloe, you walked into my life on your own this time. For the rest of your life, even if you die, you’ll die with my last name on your death certificate.”

After hanging up, I took a cab back to the penthouse I shared with Carter. The smart lock beeped, and the door swung open. The living room was cluttered with wedding favors we hadn’t sent out yet. I walked straight into the bedroom and pulled out a large black suitcase. I didn’t have much. When I first moved in, Carter had told me, “I’ll buy you whatever you need. You just need to bring yourself.” Now I realized he just didn’t want this place to have too many of my traces. After all, this place used to be his and Melody’s home. I had just finished packing a few everyday clothes when the front door opened. Carter was back. He carried a strong smell of veterinary disinfectant, mixed with a faint, sweet trace of Melody’s perfume. Seeing the open suitcase on the bed, he stopped in his tracks as he kicked off his shoes. “What are you doing?” He walked in, his brow locked in a tight frown. “Packing.” I didn’t even look up, throwing my toiletries into a makeup bag. Carter took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. He walked over and grabbed my wrist. “Chloe, have you had enough? It was bad enough that you threw a tantrum at the boutique, but now you’re doing the whole run-away-from-home act?” I yanked my hand out of his grip and looked at him coldly. “How’s the dog? Not dead, I assume?” “Chloe!” Carter’s voice raised, his eyes filled with disbelief. “When did you become so heartless? Cotton had acute gastroenteritis! The vet said if I had arrived a step later, he would have gone into shock! Melody was crying so hard she couldn’t even stand. Can’t you show some compassion?” I laughed. I laughed so hard tears almost came out of my eyes. “Carter, your compassion is truly overflowing. So overflowing that you can abandon your fiancée in a fitting room just to dry your ex-girlfriend’s tears.” I zipped my suitcase shut with a sharp, scraping sound. “I’m not throwing a tantrum, and I’m not running away. I’m just making room.” Carter stared at me, his chest heaving. He seemed to be trying to control his anger, trying to use his usual arrogant, condescending tone to put an end to my “childish behavior.” “Chloe, I know you feel hurt. But I’ve explained this a thousand times. The co-parenting agreement was signed when Melody and I broke up. Cotton was severely traumatized by our split back then. As a man, I have to take responsibility.” His tone softened, and he reached out, trying to hug me. “Alright, don’t be mad. I rescheduled the boutique. Tomorrow, I’ll cancel all my meetings and spend the whole day with you at the fitting, okay?” I took a step back, dodging his touch. “No need.” I pulled the cancellation receipt from my bag and tossed it onto the bed. “I cancelled the dress. They didn’t refund the deposit. Consider it my donation to your dog’s therapy.” Carter’s eyes fell on the receipt, his pupils shrinking instantly. “You cancelled it? Who gave you permission?!” His voice finally cracked, revealing a hint of panic. “Not just the dress,” I said, looking at him calmly. “The venue, the caterer, the florist—everything I was in charge of, I’ve cancelled. Carter, our wedding is off.” The air in the room froze. Carter stared at me for a solid ten seconds before letting out a cold scoff. “Chloe, you’re threatening me with the wedding?” He loosened his tie, his eyes turning cold again. “Do you honestly think I’ll buy into this? You love me so much you threw away your dignity. You’ve spent the last four years playing house and taking care of me like a maid. You really think you have the guts to leave?” His words were like a rusty blade, slowly carving into my heart. He was right. I had loved him so much. I loved him enough to tolerate him rushing over to Melody’s at midnight because of a phone call. I loved him enough to smile while helping him pick out dog food for that Samoyed. I had spent four years squeezing myself into the tiny cracks of their crowded, three-way relationship. “I didn’t have the guts before,” I said, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. “But now? You just make me sick.” Carter’s face turned pale. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a grip tight enough to shatter my bones. “Chloe! If you walk out of this door today, don’t you dare think about coming back. Even if you beg me on your knees, I won’t look at you again!” Right then, a sharp, aggressive car horn honked from downstairs. Three short honks, followed by two long blasts. It was the distinct custom horn of a Maybach—low, arrogant, and commanding. I shook off Carter’s hand and dragged my suitcase toward the door. “You won’t have to look at me ever again. Because someone is already here to pick me up.”

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I had just woken up from the anesthesia after my C-section. My husband gently placed a tiny baby girl in my arms. Suddenly, glowing lines of text flashed across my eyes like a live-stream chat. [Wait! That’s not your daughter. Your real daughter was swapped by your husband and Fiona Cross, the single pregnant mother you sponsored.] [They did it together.] [They put their own love child in your arms instead!] [They want their illegitimate daughter to replace yours and inherit the Montgomery family fortune!] [Your real daughter is right next to Fiona. She has a faint pink birthmark behind her left ear.] [In ten minutes, they will transfer her out of this hospital under the excuse of treating severe jaundice.] The blood in my veins turned to ice. In the next second, Fiona knocked and walked in. She smiled, looking innocent and harmless. “Mrs. Montgomery, my daughter has severe jaundice. She’s being transferred to another hospital in a few minutes. I wanted to come by and say goodbye.” The floating text in front of my eyes flashed rapidly. [Don’t let her leave!] [If she walks out that door, you will never find your daughter again.] I dug my fingernails deep into my palms. I forced a smile. “Jaundice? Let me take a look.”

The hospital room fell dead silent. Julian was the first to react. He sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his hand against my shoulder. The pressure wasn’t heavy, but it was just enough to press down on my C-section wound, sending a sharp pain through me. “Chloe, you just woke up. Don’t move.” I stared at him. To the public, Julian Vance was the most respectable son-in-law of the Montgomery Medical Group. He was the man who would run out in the middle of the night to buy sour plums when I had morning sickness. He accompanied me to every single prenatal checkup. He told the media that marrying me was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. But the floating screen said otherwise. It was him. He had stolen our daughter and put his mistress’s baby in my arms. My chest choked with an unbearable ache. “I’m not moving too much,” I said, looking past him to Fiona. “She is a pregnant woman under my charity program. Since her baby has severe jaundice, it’s only natural for me, as her sponsor, to check on her. Is there something wrong with that?” Fiona’s grip on the baby bundle visibly tightened. “Mrs. Montgomery, the doctor said the baby shouldn’t be exposed to the cold wind. The transport ambulance is waiting downstairs.” “I heard jaundice is most obvious behind the ear. I’ll just check behind her ear. No need to unwrap her completely.” Her face turned pale. Julian tried to coax me in a gentle voice, “Chloe, Fiona has had a hard time. Her baby needs urgent care. Let’s not delay them.” “Will a five-second delay kill her?” I asked. His brows furrowed slightly. It was a silent warning. During our standoff, the nurse at the door walked in. Rachel. She was the one who had checked my wristband before my surgery. She wore a professional smile. “Mrs. Montgomery, the anesthesia hasn’t fully worn off yet. You might not be thinking clearly. The transfer paperwork for Fiona’s baby is already complete. The ambulance is waiting downstairs.” I looked at her. “What is her bilirubin level?” Rachel paused. “320.” “When was it tested?” “Twenty minutes ago.” “Where is the report?” Rachel’s smile stiffened. “It’s all logged in the electronic medical system.” A new comment floated across my eyes. [They just modified the numbers.] [The original record was only 176. It didn’t meet the emergency transfer criteria at all.] [They just want Fiona to take your daughter and make a quick escape before you find out.] My daughter was standing just a few steps away from me. Held by her biological father and another woman, about to be erased from my life forever. I forced myself to breathe steadily. “Since the jaundice is so severe, I’ll contact the head of the Neonatology Department at Crestview to check her personally. I’ll cover all the expenses.” Fiona raised her head instantly. “No need, Mrs. Montgomery. You’ve already helped me so much.” “I’m not asking for your permission.” I pressed the call button next to my bed and told the nurse aide who walked in: “Tell the head of Neonatology to come to my room. Also, before he arrives, Fiona and her baby are not allowed to leave this floor.” Rachel panicked. “Mrs. Montgomery, this goes against hospital protocol.” “I am one of the largest individual shareholders of Crestview Maternity Hospital.” I stared at her, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you really trying to talk to me about protocol?” Rachel’s face lost all color. Julian called out to me in a low voice, “Chloe.” I didn’t look at him. “Also, my own baby is not allowed to leave this room. Any checkups must be done right in front of me.” Fiona’s eyes welled with tears. “Mrs. Montgomery, is there some kind of misunderstanding? I just want to get medical care for my baby.” I stared at the bundle in her arms. “Then wait for the specialist to get here.” The floating text popped up again. [Step one: successful.] [But they have already altered the hospital system.] [They won’t let you see the birthmark that easily.]

The head of Neonatology didn’t show up. Instead, Dr. Thomas Sterling, the Vice President of the hospital, walked in. There was sweat on his forehead. Two nurses and an administrative director followed right behind him. Julian stood up and whispered a few words to him. Dr. Sterling’s gaze shifted to me, becoming instantly cautious and overly polite. “Mrs. Montgomery, congratulations on a successful delivery. Your health is the top priority right now. The hospital will handle everything else.” I asked, “Where is the department head?” “He is currently in surgery. But we can arrange phototherapy for the baby here.” “Then treat her in this hospital.” “According to the current records, Fiona’s baby has extremely high levels. We highly recommend transferring her to our partner clinic for observation.” I stared at him. “Crestview is the best private maternity hospital in the city. Are you telling me we can’t treat a simple case of newborn jaundice and have to send her away?” Julian walked over, leaning down to tuck my blanket in. “Chloe, you just had surgery. You shouldn’t be worrying about other people’s problems. I’ll handle Fiona’s arrangements.” I grabbed his wrist. “Did you sign the newborn birth confirmation?” His eyes flickered. “The hospital asked me to sign on your behalf.” “On whose behalf?” “I’m the baby’s father. It’s only natural for me to sign.” I looked at him and slowly let go of his wrist. “I wasn’t even awake yet, and you already signed to confirm the baby’s identity?” His perfect composure finally showed a crack. Dr. Sterling quickly intervened. “Mrs. Montgomery, it’s very common for family members to sign on behalf of the mother in clinical practice, especially since you were still recovering from anesthesia.” “Common doesn’t mean legal,” my voice went cold. “Bring me all the handover records, identity verification videos, and the umbilical cord blood storage codes from my delivery.” Rachel stood in the back, her fingers clutching her clipboard so hard they turned white. A comment floated by. [She’s panicking.] [She already swapped the ankle bands of the two babies and backdated the handover log.] [Don’t drink the water. Julian ordered a sedative to be added to it.] The moment I looked up, Julian was already holding the glass of water from the nightstand. “Drink some water first, Chloe. Your lips are dry.” I stared at the warm water. “You drink it.” His hand froze. “Chloe, what are you doing now?” “I said, you drink it.” Everyone in the room turned to look at him. The gentle mask on Julian’s face was about to shatter. “You shouldn’t be so paranoid after a C-section.” I laughed. “I’m paranoid? Then take a sip and prove me wrong.” He set the glass back down. “The doctor said you need to stay hydrated.” “Then have the nurse open a fresh, sealed bottle for me.” Rachel immediately chimed in, “The water in our ward is standardized. There’s nothing wrong with it.” I looked at her. “Are you absolutely sure about that?” She shut her mouth. Fiona stood by the door, cradling the baby as tears streamed down her face. “Mrs. Montgomery, I know you are wealthy and powerful, and you look down on people like us in your charity programs. But just because you don’t like me, you shouldn’t stop my daughter from getting medical treatment.” With a single sentence, she painted a vivid picture. A rich heiress bullying a poor, single mother. What a perfect card to play. Dr. Sterling frowned. “Mrs. Montgomery, your emotional state seems highly unstable right now. Should I call a psychiatrist for an evaluation?” I stared him down. “Do it.” He was stunned. I continued, “And while you’re at it, call the legal department, the risk management team, and the hospital administration. If we’re doing an evaluation, let’s evaluate everyone.” Julian said in a low, warning tone, “Chloe, don’t make a scene.” I pressed a button on my smartwatch. My fingers were still trembling from the lingering anesthesia. I sent a text to Vivian: “My baby is in danger.” Vivian Carter was my late mother’s most trusted lawyer and the executor of the Montgomery Family Trust. She had once told me: “Chloe, marriages can fail, and people’s hearts can change. But the protective clauses in a trust fund never lie.” Back then, I thought she was too cold. Only now did I realize the painful truth in her words.

By 11:40 PM, the ward was in complete chaos. Rushed footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. I had already instructed Vivian to lock down the hospital. Fiona wouldn’t be able to escape. But I couldn’t sleep a wink. My daughter was still in another woman’s arms. How could I sleep? The door was pushed open. Rachel rolled in an incubator transport cart. Fiona followed right behind her. The baby had already been placed inside the incubator, covered by a transparent plastic dome, showing only a tiny, red face. Fiona’s eyes were red and swollen from crying. “Mrs. Montgomery, please stop blocking us. The doctor said if we delay any longer, my daughter might suffer brain damage.” Julian was there, too. He had changed his jacket, looking exhausted. “Chloe, I had Dr. Sterling call a specialist consultation. The conclusion is that we must transfer the baby first. If you’re still worried, I’ll ride in the ambulance with them.” The floating text flashed frantically. [Lies!] [They forged the consultation records!] [She taped over the baby’s left ear to hide the birthmark. You have to look!] [Once they enter the elevator, the underground parking lot has blind spots in the security cameras.] I pushed myself up against the headboard, trying to sit up. A sharp, ripping pain in my abdomen made my vision go black. The nurse aide quickly held me down. “Mrs. Montgomery, don’t get up! Your stitches will rip!” I gritted my teeth. “Bring the incubator here.” Rachel blocked it. “We are on a tight schedule.” “Bring it here!” She didn’t budge. I looked at Julian. “You said you’d ride in the ambulance, right? Then you personally bring the baby to me so I can look at her.” His eyes turned cold. “Chloe, you are disrupting hospital order.” “I just want to look at her once.” Suddenly, Fiona dropped to her knees. She clung to the edge of the incubator, sobbing hysterically. “Mrs. Montgomery, I beg you! My daughter is not your toy! Just because you have money, you can’t keep my child hostage here!” Her loud wails drew the attention of patients in the neighboring rooms. “What’s going on?” “I think it’s the Montgomery heiress. She won’t let a poor pregnant woman’s baby get transferred for treatment.” “Rich people are terrifying. They even want to control other people’s sick babies?” “She just gave birth, right? Is she having some mental breakdown?” The whispers crawled into my ears. But I only stared at the baby inside the incubator. She was crying. The final thread of my sanity snapped. I ripped the IV needle right out of the back of my hand. Beads of blood welled up. Julian’s face changed instantly. “Chloe Montgomery!” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to swing my legs out of bed. The moment my feet hit the floor, my knees buckled, and I fell forward. Julian caught me. Using the momentum, I grabbed the edge of the incubator and slammed open the side access port. Rachel screamed, “What are you doing?!” I reached my hand inside and gently parted the soft hair behind the baby’s left ear. In that split second. I saw it. A faint, reddish birthmark sat quietly on the skin behind her ear, looking like a tiny drop of red ink on paper. The floating chat exploded. Tears instantly poured down my face. “This is my baby.” The room fell dead silent. Fiona’s crying stopped for half a second. Then, she shrieked. “You’re lying! That’s my daughter!” Julian grabbed my shoulders and tried to drag me back. “That’s enough, Chloe!” I struggled, screaming at the top of my lungs, “She has a birthmark behind her left ear! She’s my daughter!” Rachel immediately chimed in, “Birthmarks are extremely common in newborns. You can’t claim a baby just because of a spot. Mrs. Montgomery, you just gave birth. You might be suffering from postpartum psychosis.” Dr. Sterling rushed to the door, his expression grim. “Get Mrs. Montgomery back into bed immediately. Call the psychiatric department for an emergency consultation if necessary.” I looked at their faces. I finally understood what it felt like to be forcefully fitted into the straightjacket of a “madwoman.” They were all waiting for me to break. First, they would label me as mentally unstable. Then, everything I said would be dismissed as the delusions of a crazy person. This was Julian’s ultimate advantage as my husband. Julian leaned down, his voice barely a whisper in my ear. “Chloe, don’t force my hand.” I looked up into his eyes. “What are you going to do to me?”

He remained silent. That was his answer. The crowd in the hallway grew larger. Some people held up their phones, but the hospital security guards quickly blocked them. Fiona knelt on the floor, gasping for breath through her tears. “Mrs. Montgomery, I know you helped me, but you can’t humiliate me like this. You have your own baby. Why do you want to steal mine?” The moment she said those words, the whispers outside changed. “Stealing a baby? Oh my god.” “Is she unhappy with her own baby? Does she think someone else’s baby is cuter, so she’s claiming it?” “Shh, keep it down. They’re rich. Even if she steals it, there’s nothing we can do.” “Postpartum psychosis is pretty common among wealthy women, right?” Two nurses held me down on the edge of the bed. My incision was completely numb with pain. Julian turned to Dr. Sterling. “She has been under a lot of stress during the pregnancy. She just woke up from anesthesia, and her emotions are highly unstable. I suggest letting her rest.” “I’m just worried about you,” he added softly to me. Fiona quickly sobbed in agreement, “Mr. Vance, Mrs. Montgomery just became a mother too. She’s probably just too anxious. I don’t blame her.” Rachel walked over holding a syringe. “Mrs. Montgomery, this is a mild sedative prescribed by Dr. Sterling. The dosage is very small and won’t affect breastfeeding.” I stared at the needle. I raised my wrist and spoke directly into my smartwatch: “Vivian, upload the audio recording to the cloud server right now.” All sound in the room died instantly. The next second, the ward door was pushed open. Vivian walked in holding her briefcase. Behind her were two police officers and the head of the Montgomery Foundation. Seeing my bleeding hand and pale face, Vivian’s eyes turned freezing cold. She turned to face everyone in the room. “Starting now, no one is allowed to move either of these newborns. No medical records are to be deleted, altered, or backdated. Anyone who violates this will be charged with destroying evidence.” Julian finally tore off his gentle mask. “Ms. Carter, this is a private matter between my wife and me.” “Didn’t you just say she’s mentally unstable?” Vivian looked at the police officers. “In that case, we need a third party to step in. We can’t have a husband making unilateral medical decisions for a supposedly ‘unstable’ patient.” “On behalf of Mrs. Montgomery, as the trustee of the Montgomery Family Trust, I am officially freezing all beneficiary status checks due to identity risks.” Julian’s face went completely pale. I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I looked at the police officers. “Officer, I request the immediate seizure and sealing of all Crestview Maternity Hospital’s newborn handover logs, delivery room access logs, surgical cord blood samples, placental pathology samples, newborn screening blood cards, transfer requests, and ambulance GPS records.” “Furthermore, seal all of tonight’s medical orders, including the sedative syringe they were about to inject into me.” Dr. Sterling broke into a cold sweat. “Mrs. Montgomery, you’ve misunderstood. This is just a family matter…” “It is not a family matter,” I said, projecting every word clearly. “I suspect a criminal conspiracy to swap newborns, forge medical documents, illegally transport an infant, and attempt to fraudulently claim the beneficiary rights of the Montgomery Family Trust.” The moment those words left my mouth, Fiona’s face drained of all color. The onlookers outside went wild.

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On the very first day of our honeymoon, I dragged my husband to a local photography studio to get some romantic couple portraits done. As the camera lens panned over him, the photographer casually asked, “Hey, how come you didn’t bring your girlfriend this time?” I was just about to raise my hand to show off my wedding ring when a familiar voice chimed in from behind us. “Marcus! What a coincidence seeing you guys vacationing here too.” The scowl that Marcus had been wearing all trip finally cracked, replaced by a warm, genuine smile. The girl shoved me aside, effortlessly taking my spot next to him. The photographer smoothly guided them through a series of cozy poses, and as they finished up, he smiled and said: “Congratulations! Wishing you two a happy honeymoon.” Marcus gently rustled the girl’s hair with pure affection and muttered a soft, “Thanks.” I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Just as I opened my mouth to clarify who the actual wife was, Marcus grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the studio. Right before we stepped out the door, my eyes locked onto the display wall he had been staring at earlier. In the framed photo, Marcus and Chloe were locked in a passionate, deep kiss. The timestamp on the photo was exactly one day before our wedding.

Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Looking at Marcus now, every ounce of love I had felt for him evaporated. All the way back, Chloe and Marcus chatted and laughed, sharing inside jokes. I sat there like an invisible third wheel who couldn’t squeeze a word in. This man, who had been completely silent and cold to me, was now looking at another woman with eyes full of tenderness. I suddenly realized this marriage didn’t even need to begin. The moment we stepped into our hotel suite, Marcus threw his coat down and glared at me. “What was with that miserable face back there?” “You were the one who begged for this honeymoon. Now that we’re here, you’re throwing a tantrum and ruining the mood.” “Do you have any idea how valuable my time is?” I stared at him in utter disbelief, a bitter tightness squeezing my chest. When I was eighteen, the Franklin family empire went bankrupt. My parents essentially pawned me off to the Christians under the guise of an arranged alliance. The graduation trip my parents had promised me was canceled. Seeing how devastated I was back then, Marcus had wiped away my tears, promising he would take me on a trip every single year. The first year, Chloe got sick and was hospitalized, so we had to wait. The second year, Chloe took a bad fall after a breakup, and the plans fell through again. This year, Marcus finally agreed to take me. But as it turned out, he and Chloe had already been here, playing house as a happy couple. The suffocating silence in the room was crushing me. I just wanted a straight answer. “When did you and Chloe come here?” He shrugged casually, acting as if I was making a big deal out of nothing. “Chloe failed her job interview last month and cried all night. I brought her here to clear her head.” “To clear her head? Does clearing her head require mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?” A long, heavy silence stretched between us. Then, Marcus snapped, his face flushing with anger. “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.” “Chloe is like a sister to me. If there was actually anything going on between us, do you really think you’d be sitting here as my wife?” I let out a dry laugh. So, that was his truth. Chloe’s parents died saving Marcus’s life when they were kids. To make it up to her, his parents had initially set them up to be married. But then, Marcus claimed he fell in love with me at first sight. He used childish stunts like hunger strikes and running away from home to force his parents to agree to our match. When the Franklins went under, he finally got exactly what he wanted. “Let’s get a divorce.” His hands froze over the suitcase he was unpacking. He let out a scoff. “Just because I took Chloe on a trip to cheer her up, you’re throwing a fit and demanding a divorce?” “Catherine, when did you become so childish?” I said nothing, my heart aching in dull, heavy thuds. “Chloe has really sensitive skin and allergies. Go sleep in her room tonight so she can have this suite.” Seeing me stand still, he reached out and patted my head condescendingly. “You need to learn to be more generous.” My eyes welled up with uncontrollable tears. It was always like this. The jewelry she wanted, I had to give up. The designer dresses she wanted, I had to let her have. I had been yielding to her for seven long years. I sniffled, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’ll give her the room. And you? I’m giving you to her too.” Hearing this, he pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. “It’s just a room! Stop turning everything into a federal case!” Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. The moment Chloe walked in, Marcus smoothly took her suitcase, opened it, and began unpacking her things one by one. That was when I noticed their toiletries were matching couple sets. She slid her room card into my palm, offering a sweet, innocent, yet apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Catherine. I booked my room so late, and the view isn’t great.” “I hate to make you suffer in that room… you don’t mind, right?” I suddenly felt a surge of petty amusement. “What if I said I do mind? Would you give me my suite back?” It was the first time in seven years I had ever said no to her. Chloe froze, her eyes instantly filling with tears. She began frantically stuffing her things back into her suitcase, acting as if she was being bullied. Marcus’s face darkened instantly. He grabbed my suitcase and hurled it out into the hallway. “If anyone’s leaving, it’s you.” The zipper on my suitcase burst, scattering my clothes all over the hallway floor. I sat slumped in the middle of the mess, looking absolutely pathetic and ridiculous. The heavy suite door slammed shut, cutting off my view of Marcus. The plastic room card in my hand felt like a burning coal. I laughed at myself, realizing for the very first time what a massive joke my life had become.

Instead of going to Chloe’s room, I went straight to the airport. On my phone, the wedding planner was blowing up my WhatsApp, asking me to confirm the final details for the ceremony. Before this trip, Marcus had held me close, promising he would give me the wedding of the century the moment we got back. I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting until my battery was down to one percent. Finally, I typed back: Change my name on everything to Chloe. I also bought the digital file of the photo I saw at the photography studio and sent it to them. Use this as the main welcome poster at the entrance. I figured Marcus would love my little wedding gift. Our trip was supposed to last a week, but by the time Marcus finally returned home, a whole two weeks had passed. He hadn’t even noticed that I left the honeymoon early, nor had he sent a single text to check on me. He tossed a luxury gift box onto my lap. “Chloe bought you this to apologize. It’s been weeks, Catherine. You should be over your little tantrum by now.” I looked at the box. It had a prominent ‘Gift with Purchase’ sticker on it, and the perfume sample inside was already more than half empty. He couldn’t even bother to pretend to care. I slowly stood up, pulled the pre-drafted divorce papers from my drawer, and slid them across the table. “Marcus, let’s get a divorce.” He glanced down at the papers, his brows knitting together in pure irritation. “Catherine, don’t you think you’re being incredibly dramatic?” “Your family literally threw you away and handed you to me like a piece of garbage. If you leave me, who else in New York would ever want you?” I snapped my head up to look at him. It was true—the moment the alliance with the Christians was finalized, my parents had kicked me out of the house. They called it “fostering a relationship” with my future husband. Looking at the man who had once promised to build a home with me, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. The love I had once been so proud of felt incredibly pathetic at this moment. My lips trembled, but I couldn’t find the words to argue. Because he was right. He slammed the door and left, telling me to use the night to clear my head. The next morning, when I arrived at the office, my colleagues were whispering and congratulating me, saying my promotion to Senior Project Manager was a done deal. But my blood ran cold when I opened the official announcement email and saw Chloe’s name listed as the new manager. I stormed into Marcus’s office with the printout, only to stop dead in my tracks. Chloe was leaning over Marcus, tenderly adjusting his tie. They looked like two high school sweethearts in the middle of a honeymoon phase. When Marcus saw me, his face immediately twisted into annoyance. “Knock before you come in. Even elementary school kids know that rule. Do I need to send you back to HR for basic etiquette training?” “You’ve been with this company for years, and you still have zero situational awareness.” Chloe, on the other hand, took a timid step back, looking like a frightened rabbit. “I’m so sorry, Catherine… I always do Marcus’s ties. I saw it was crooked and just reacted without thinking.” She quickly untied Marcus’s tie, shoved it into my hands, and ran out of the office crying. Once again, she made me look like the wicked witch who had ruined their pure love. Marcus’s voice boomed with anger. “You know Chloe has been depressed since she failed her job interview. It’s just one position, Catherine. Do you really have to fight her for everything?” This was different. I had pulled countless all-nighters and drafted dozens of proposals to earn this promotion. And with one casual sentence, he expected me to just hand it over. Watching him turn to leave, I called out, “Marcus, it’s either Chloe or me. Choose.” He paused for a fraction of a second, but didn’t turn back. He kept walking to chase after Chloe. I walked back to my desk. Looking at the cubicle where I had poured four years of my life, it felt utterly alien. That afternoon, the company-wide Snapchat group exploded. A coworker nudged my arm, sliding her phone in front of my face. “Catherine… is Mr. Christian actually your husband?”

Chloe had uploaded a photo of my marriage certificate with Marcus to the group chat. Her caption read: Wishing Catherine and Marcus a lifetime of happiness! My entire body went numb. The chat was scrolling at lightning speed with mockery and gossip from my coworkers. “I knew it! No wonder she landed all those major clients at her age. She was just riding her husband’s coattails!” “Please, her parents basically sold her. She’s been his live-in maid for seven years. Aside from a piece of paper, she has nothing.” “Did you see how Mr. Christian looks at Chloe? That’s real love right there. Catherine is just a placeholder.” The nasty, venomous words flooded my brain. My head felt like it was going to split open. I fled from my desk and slipped into the quiet stairwell to catch my breath. But as I walked down, I heard a soft, wet, gasping sound coming from the landing below. Chloe was whimpering, her shoulders trembling as her small hands weakly beat against Marcus’s chest. “Now everyone knows… you guys can be together openly now. She won’t have to ‘misunderstand’ us anymore.” “Are you happy now?” Marcus stared at her for a second, then leaned down to kiss the tears from her eyelids. “That’s enough.” “Don’t ever do that again without my permission.” Then, the heavy sound of kissing resumed. I don’t even remember how I dragged myself back to my office. When I walked in, Marcus was lounging on his leather sofa, looking thoroughly satisfied. I placed my physical resignation letter on his desk. His forehead creased with instant irritation, and he uncomfortably pulled up his collar. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now?” “Chloe didn’t mean to leak the certificate. She’s been crying in the restroom for an hour. I already lectured her about it.” We had been together for seven years, and he had never once publicly acknowledged my existence. The only couple photos we had were deleted by him because “it might negatively impact the company’s stock price.” I had lived like a shameful, hidden mistress for seven years. I stared at the fresh red mark on his collarbone and forced a hollow smile. So, that was his idea of a “lecture.” He stood up and reached out to wrap his arms around me. The thought of what they had just done in the dusty stairwell made my stomach violently churn. I lurched backward, dodging his touch, genuinely wondering how he did it. One second he was passionately making out with his foster sister, and the next, he could act like a doting fiancé to me. He casually tossed my resignation letter into the paper shredder, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m going to pretend I never saw this. As for the promotion, we’ll talk about it next time.” “Besides, given our legal status, it’s better if we keep a professional distance at work anyway.” It took me four grueling years to climb from an assistant to managing my own projects. How many more four-year periods did he expect me to wait? I waited year after year for a vacation. I waited year after year for a promotion. And with one word—”professionalism”—he wiped out every ounce of my hard work. But I was done waiting. I kept my voice completely professional. “If you want to keep your distance, my resignation actually solves all your problems.” He looked at me, a sudden wave of understanding washing over his face. “Ah, right. We’re already legally married, and the wedding ceremony is in two days. I make more than enough to support you anyway.” “My mother has been begging for grandkids. After the wedding, you can stay home and focus on getting pregnant.” I gave him a non-committal hum, waiting until he signed off on my exit paperwork before turning on my heel. As I reached the door, he called out, “Oh, and don’t forget—our parents are meeting in three days to finalize the wedding reception details. Don’t be late.” I didn’t answer. The moment I stepped out of the building, I booked a one-way ticket to London. A few days ago, I had received a job offer from a multinational firm over there. My future was waiting for me across the Atlantic.

Three days later, I still showed up to the dinner. An ugly beginning deserved a clean, dignified ending. When I arrived at the private dining room, it was completely empty. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was Marcus, and he immediately started yelling the moment I picked up. “Catherine! How old are you? Still playing games and showing up late? If you can’t even manage your time, how can I trust you with a manager position?” I opened the text notification on my phone. It was a new address. How hilarious. The venue had been changed, and I, the bride, was the last to know. When I finally arrived at the upscale restaurant, Chloe was sitting in my designated seat, making both sets of parents laugh hysterically with her sweet banter. The moment I walked in, the warm atmosphere turned ice-cold. Chloe immediately made a show of standing up to give me my seat, but Marcus’s mother grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. “Chloe, sweetie, stay right there.” She then turned her icy glare toward me. “If some people hadn’t used cheap, manipulative tricks, the title of Mrs. Christian would belong to Chloe right now.” “You’re in your twenties, yet you expect your elders to sit around and wait for you.” “You haven’t even officially moved into the Christian estate, and you’re already throwing your weight around like you own the place. Who do you think you are?” My parents sat there, offering nothing but awkward, tight smiles. Marcus shot me a warning glare, his eyes practically screaming threats. “On such an important day, you’re the only one who’s late. Aren’t you embarrassed?” I let out a long sigh, ignored the comments, and sat down at an empty seat. My heart was already dead. Looking at the table, every single dish was covered in heavy, spicy Mexican chili oil. Marcus picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of spicy meat, and put it on my plate. He leaned close to my ear. “Stop sulking. Everyone is watching. Smile.” Without a second thought, I scraped the meat directly into the trash bin. The smile on Marcus’s face froze. “I can’t eat spicy food.” My stomach had been ruined by stress ulcers over the years; spicy food was practically poison to my system. Years ago, when I had accidentally taken a bite of a spicy pepper, Marcus had panicked, rushing me to the ER for a full gastrointestinal scan. Since then, he had always personally checked every menu to make sure my food was bland. Chloe noticed my action and her face fell. “The elders are all sitting right here, Catherine. Who are you putting on this dramatic show for?” Marcus looked at Chloe, then back at me. He stabbed another piece of spicy food, his voice dropping to a cold, commanding whisper. “Eat it. Behave.” I set my fork down with a quiet clack. “Enjoy your dinner.” “I only came here to say one thing: I won’t be attending the wedding. Marcus and I are completely over.” With that, I stood up and walked out. Behind me, Marcus’s mother exploded into furious screeching, while my parents frantically rambled out awkward apologies. I drove straight back to my apartment, grabbed my pre-packed suitcases, and headed to the airport. Back at the restaurant, it took Marcus nearly an hour to soothe his mother’s anger, promising her that I would never act out like this again. But remembering the absolute finality in my eyes before I walked out, a sudden, cold dread crept into his chest. He pulled out his phone and shot me a text: Catherine, stop this childish nonsense. Come back and apologize right now. I didn’t reply. For the next few days, I didn’t send him a single text or call. He didn’t think much of it, assuming I was just experiencing cold feet and being shy before the big day. After all, I had chased him for seven years. He was convinced I could never survive without him. He figured this time would be no different. On the morning of the wedding, Marcus got up early, carefully grooming himself. He couldn’t wait to see me walk down the aisle. But the moment his car pulled up to the luxury hotel venue, his face went completely pale.

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