I shamelessly pursued Christian Davies for four years. He was utterly fed up. Under his immense pressure, my family nervously sent me abroad. He had said, “Do whatever it takes to get her to stop bothering me!” “Otherwise, don’t blame me for showing no mercy.” Drugs, hypnosis, electroshock therapy… Those methods were truly effective. I forgot what it felt like to love him. Even my memories of him became hazy. He finally relented, allowing me to return home. I actively avoided any place he might appear. Because Mom told me that man with the stunning looks was someone I couldn’t afford to offend. When I saw him kissing Willow, my sister, I secretly pulled out my phone to take a picture. His eyes blazed with a fierce, cold fury. I cowered into the corner, words failing me: “I’m sorry, I just thought you two looked so good together, totally shippable…” I didn’t know why. The stoic man, who rarely showed emotion, his eyes trembled violently. **1** After coming back from abroad, I always felt like my brain wasn’t working quite right. I spent most of my day sleeping. I thought I might be sick. Mom comforted me, saying not to worry. “You’ve always been a little sleepyhead, unlike your sister who’s so disciplined.” “It’s fine, everyone’s body is different. Just go to sleep if you’re tired.” I poured myself a large cup of black coffee, hoping to perk up. But it had no effect. I tapped my temples, frustrated, when the front door rang. Mr. Henderson, the butler, said: “Miss Willow brought Mr. Davies home.” Dad and Mom’s faces immediately lit up with joy. Dad eagerly went to greet them. Mom was about to follow, then suddenly remembered something. She looked at me, troubled: “Lily, you…” I nodded understandingly: “I know, Mr. Davies doesn’t like me.” “Willow’s engagement is important. I’ll go upstairs now, I need to catch up on sleep anyway.” Mom looked at me, yawning, with relief. I had only walked a few steps when I suddenly remembered I hadn’t picked up my coffee cup. I wanted to try another cup later. The moment I turned, I inadvertently met a pair of cold, piercing eyes. It was almost instinctive. I forgot all about the coffee cup and ran as fast as I could. Like my life depended on running away fast enough. I didn’t stop until I burst into my room and locked the door from the inside. Then I pushed a table against the door. Only then did my heart, pounding in my throat, finally settle. I couldn’t explain why, but seeing Christian always triggered an intense emotion in me: Fear. Mom said it was because Christian had a natural air of dominance; anyone around him felt immense pressure. “Especially someone like you, a born pushover.” Mom told me not to appear in front of Christian. “Christian, he doesn’t like people who look cute but are actually slow-witted.” “His gaze only lingers on excellent girls like your sister.” “What level is the Davies family on? If we can marry into the Davies family, we could save ourselves generations of struggle!” “Lily, you need to be sensible.” I was very sensible. So, every time Christian came over, I actively avoided him. Mom was very pleased about this and sometimes patted my head. That was my greatest reward, and I treasured it. So, I never dared to tell Mom. Even if she didn’t say anything, I would have avoided Christian on my own. His presence was just too overwhelming. I felt so uncomfortable. So suppressed. As if my heart was being squeezed tightly in someone’s hand. And a strange, bitter ache. Downstairs, laughter and cheerful chatter filled the air. Lost in that happy noise, I drifted off to sleep. **2** When I woke up again, it was dark outside. Already evening. The mansion was quiet. Christian must have left. My stomach growled. I pushed open my door, wearing a white princess nightgown, and padded barefoot downstairs to find food. The floor was cold and smooth, and I felt my brain clear up just a tiny bit. I was standing by the counter, heating up toast. The study door suddenly opened. Christian emerged, dressed in a sharp suit. Bathed in the warm yellow light, his silhouette was even more defined, his posture perfectly straight. His features were sculpted, sharp. He looked like a god of judgment had descended. But he was too cold. His aura was cold, his eyes were cold. Even the charcoal gray cufflinks on his suit glinted coldly. Across the long living room, his gaze fell lightly upon me. His thin lips pressed into a tight line. He radiated an overwhelming presence. In an instant. I snapped back to reality. I buried my head in my arms and ducked under the dining table. A pathetic attempt to hide. Willow’s light footsteps floated down the stairs. She ran into Christian’s arms, holding his arm and shaking it. “Are you really leaving already? You haven’t even seen my new showreel, can’t you stay for dinner?” Willow’s demeanor was usually distant. But now, she showed off a girlish charm, her voice soft and sweet. So lovely. Like a beautiful bird. With vibrant plumage and a melodious song. Christian didn’t speak, his cold eyes fixed on me, shivering under the table. Willow’s smile faded. She bit her lip and said: “If you’re busy, you can see it another time. Let’s go, I’ll walk you out.” Christian stood motionless. His oppressive presence was so heavy, it was as if he hadn’t even heard Willow speak. Willow opened her mouth, but didn’t dare utter a sound. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice low: “Alright, I’ll eat dinner before I leave.” Dad and Willow’s faces simultaneously registered surprise. Christian’s lips curved slightly: “What are you afraid of? She’s forgotten everything, hasn’t she?” Christian took long strides to the dining table and knelt down. His suit pants accentuated the strong lines of his legs. “Lily, do you still recognize me?” I timidly raised my eyes, then lowered them, not daring to meet his gaze. I slowly nodded. But suddenly, my fingertips and toes felt as if they were being pricked by needles. It was an automatic, reactive scream. I squeezed my eyes shut. Shaking my head frantically. “No! Don’t hit me! I don’t know you!” **3** At the dinner table, the atmosphere was strange. Dad and Mom tried desperately to liven things up. But Christian just ate quietly. His posture refined. He showed no intention of speaking. This made Mom and Dad’s enthusiasm seem very awkward. Willow’s face was dark, and she remained silent. I didn’t dare to pick up any food, only eating small bites of rice. Finally, when the meal was over, Dad and Mom both seemed to let out a sigh of relief. As Christian was about to leave, I suddenly remembered something and called out to him: “Mr. Davies, wait a moment.” Everyone stared at me in surprise. Including Christian. His brow furrowed slightly, clearly impatient. “Just for a second. Okay?” I used my fingers to show a centimeter of distance. Saying that, I ran upstairs, and quickly came back down carrying a metal box. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me. I opened the lid of the metal box and asked: “Mr. Davies, is this yours?” On top of the box were a dozen or so ID photos. Some were passport-sized, some larger. They clearly weren’t obtained through official channels. Because some photos had official stamps, and some had dried glue on the back. It was evident they had been pried off various documents. Christian in the photos looked younger than he was now, with a hint of youthfulness in his eyes and brows. But his features were already exceptionally handsome. Besides the ID photos, there were other miscellaneous items. Candy wrappers, cigarette boxes, empty pen cartridges, crumpled test papers, and so on. Christian’s gaze was intense as he looked at me. I gritted my teeth before I dared to continue: “I found it in a corner of my closet. I don’t know who put it there. But I recognized your photos, so they must be yours, right?” Christian’s eyes shifted slightly, seeming to hold a hint of scrutiny. His stare made me shrink. My shoulders drooped. He spoke: “Not mine, throw it away.” “Oh, okay.” I casually tossed it into the nearby trash can and was about to go upstairs. Christian’s eyes suddenly took on a dangerous glint. “Lily, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” He called out to me. I was puzzled: “What?” He seemed to see right through everything, his eyes mocking. He scoffed. “Nothing. You’re a good actress. Just don’t do it again. I’m not interested in watching.” With that, he turned and left. **4** Mom closed the door. Willow, who had been holding it in all evening, was now crying, slumped over the table. Dad’s heart ached looking at her, and finally, unable to contain his anger, he slapped me. I wasn’t prepared and fell to the floor awkwardly. My head hit the corner of the table. It buzzed with pain. Mom clutched Willow’s shoulders, looking heartbroken and furious. She turned to me: “Lily, don’t blame your dad for being so harsh. Tonight, you truly, truly disappointed us!” “Did you forget Mom’s countless warnings?” “Why did you come downstairs without permission? Why did you talk to him? Are you really that pathetic?!” Blood dripped from the wound on my forehead, flowing into my eyes. My vision blurred into a crimson haze. Clutching the bleeding wound, I tried to explain: “I’m sorry, I thought he had left. I didn’t mean to…” Willow suddenly grabbed my collar, screaming hysterically: “Running downstairs dressed like that, deliberately parading your bare feet in front of him, even bringing out that junk box to get his attention, Lily, who are you trying to seduce?!” “Do you even know Christian’s standing? Do you know your own? How dare you even *think* about him?!” “Do you know that because of your indiscretion tonight, I might lose him?!” “Are you really that desperate for male attention? Seducing your own sister’s boyfriend!” With that, Willow opened the door and walked out. Mom desperately grabbed Willow: “Willow, where are you going at this hour?” Willow looked at me with hatred: “This house, it’s either me or her. If she stays, I leave!” Soon, the sound of a car engine starting echoed from the garage. Mom sighed deeply. Dad slammed the door in a fit of rage. I quietly spoke: “Should I stay out tonight?” Mom hesitated for a few moments: “Where would you go?” “I’ll stay at a hotel. I always stayed at hotels when I was abroad, I’m used to it.” Back then, I couldn’t endure the inhumane torment. Whenever I had a chance, I’d escape from the hospital. I’d stay in the cheapest motels. Trying to avoid the painful treatments they arranged for me. But Willow always found me quickly and brought me back. Mom was silent, then after a moment, she nodded: “Tonight was indeed your fault. So go stay out. Once your sister calms down, Mom will pick you up.” **5** In the hotel. Standing in front of the mirror, I carefully dabbed the blood from my forehead. The wound was a bit large; one bandage wouldn’t cover it. But it was so late, and I didn’t dare to leave the hotel room to buy bandages. Usually, I could never get enough sleep. Tonight, perhaps because of the stinging pain on my forehead, I found it hard to sleep. I had forgotten why I was sent abroad. I only remembered that, ever since I was little, Willow was always smarter, always more outstanding than me. Everywhere she went, she seemed to glow. That’s why Dad and Mom had the highest hopes for her. Willow became a child model at a very young age, and later, her image as a beautiful academic genius went viral. As for me, aside from having a similar appearance to her, I was useless. So, I understood my parents’ favoritism. I agreed with Mom and Dad’s approach, to allocate more resources to the capable Willow. But, was this favoritism the reason they sent me abroad? I remember when I was abroad, swallowing handfuls of pills and undergoing painful treatments, Mom told me over the phone that it would make me smarter. But I always felt that after returning from abroad, my mind was even worse. Besides being lethargic, my reactions were slower. Did Mom and Dad have to bring me back because the treatment failed? Did they dislike me even more because I was dumber? **6** During the day, I wandered the streets. At night, as soon as it got dark, I’d return to the hotel to sleep. I stayed at the hotel for a week, but Mom still hadn’t called me back. I was out of money. I sent Mom a SnapChat message. I found out she had blocked me. At noon, as I sat in the hotel lobby, spacing out. I saw a striking couple from afar, standing at the entrance of the indoor garden. The man was tall and well-built, his back to me, so I could only see his broad, straight shoulders. The woman had an hourglass figure, wearing an elegant long dress, her small face tilted up, smiling at the man. But I could only see half of her profile. I shook my head, wanting to see more clearly. But these past few days, I always had a headache, and things looked like they were seen through a fog. It only made the scene in front of me more atmospheric. I picked up my phone and captured this beautiful moment. But I forgot to turn off the flash, and the shutter sound was turned up to maximum. They quickly noticed me. The man’s jawline seemed to tighten. His gaze towards me was very hostile. I saw the two of them walking towards me, and I became so restless I couldn’t sit still. Until Christian and Willow stood over me, looking down. “Lily, what are you doing here?” Christian’s voice was still very cold. I looked at Willow, too scared to speak. Christian held out his long hand: “Give me your phone.” I nervously handed my phone to him. It was strange, he actually knew my password. Even I didn’t know what my six-digit password meant. I thought through everyone’s birthdays in my family, but none of them matched. Christian pulled up the photo, his eyes dangerously narrowed: “Why were you secretly taking pictures? Lily, what do you want to do to Willow? Are you trying to hurt her again?” I shook my head frantically, so nervous I almost cried: “No, I didn’t.” I knew Willow was better than me. I was so ordinary, so I never thought about competing with her for anything. But Mom said I once appeared at Willow’s new show premiere, dressed elaborately. A reporter said that Willow and I looked alike, but our temperaments were completely different. Willow was pure and refined. While I was seen as spirited and innocent, almost too good for this world. They said I had a wider range of roles. So, the lead role Willow had secured suddenly changed hands. In the end, I didn’t get to play it either. But Willow lost her chance to join the ranks of A-list actresses. That’s why Willow hated me, hated me for deliberately stealing the spotlight, for not wanting her to succeed. No matter how I explained, no one believed me. That day, I wasn’t trying to steal Willow’s glory. I just wanted to witness her success. I spent all my pocket money to rent an expensive gown, just so I wouldn’t embarrass Willow. Unexpectedly, it only made Willow look overshadowed. I really didn’t mean to. But no one believed me. Those days, everyone was against me. My family took turns expressing their disappointment. It was suffocating. Like a nightmare. I never wanted to experience that again. “Please believe me, I didn’t.” I helplessly clutched Christian’s sleeve, pleading. He frowned and said: “Lily, are you still faking it? You didn’t really lose your memory, did you?” “I don’t know, I don’t know if I’ve lost my memory, please believe me!” My memory was broken. Some things I remembered, some I’d forgotten.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297283”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I loved Dax Thorne for five years, and for every single one of those years, I’d been tormented. Until the Vance family empire collapsed, my loved ones died, and everything I held dear was systematically destroyed by Dax. Eventually, in a raging inferno, I set myself on fire, right there in front of him. Everyone outside thought Dax had finally gotten his revenge. Only he knew that the moment I died, he truly lost his mind. Muffled cries of pain echoed through the room. Dax was performing the most intimate act, yet his expression was colder than a winter storm, as if he were miles away, trapped in a frozen wasteland. I struggled to breathe, a terrifying sense of suffocation building inside me, and instinctively thrashed against him. Just when I thought I was about to black out, Dax suddenly released me. I gasped, gulping in air, but before I could catch my breath, his rough movements shattered the fragile calm again. The torment went on for what felt like an eternity, only stopping when I was on the verge of losing consciousness. My phone rang. Dax picked it up, a flicker of cruel satisfaction in his eyes as he looked at the screen. He answered. The voice on the other end announced the collapse of Vance Enterprises. My eyes, which had been half-closed from the agony, snapped open. I stared up at him, disbelief flooding my senses. “Vance Enterprises… collapsed? What happened?” My voice was hoarse, weak, yet laced with sheer shock. Dax noticed the terror in my eyes, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Like it? That’s my first gift to you.” I gazed at his smile, a chilling realization dawning on me. “Dax… you did this? To Vance Enterprises?” He gripped my chin, forcing my face up until I was trapped in an intimate, yet utterly terrifying, proximity. “Yes. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this day?” I ignored the throbbing pain in my jaw, my heart plummeting to my stomach. “Why? Why would you destroy my family?” Dax shoved me off the bed, watching me fall to the floor. His eyes, usually so carefully guarded, now blazed with raw, unrestrained hatred. “Elara Vance, the Vance family’s ruin? You brought this on yourselves! If your mother hadn’t forced Seraphina away, she never would have broken up with me, and she certainly wouldn’t have died because of you!” Because of Seraphina… He hated himself, hated everyone in my family. So all his past tenderness, his kindness, had been a lie. This was his true face. My heart clenched. “No!” My face was pale. “My mother didn’t force Seraphina to break up with you, and I didn’t hurt her!” Dax’s eyes turned venomous. “You think I’d believe a word you say?” Years ago, Dax had been with Seraphina Hayes, my family’s adopted daughter. But my mother, knowing I harbored feelings for him, had forced Seraphina to break up with him. Dax still remembered Seraphina crying, clinging to him, saying she had no choice. The Vance family’s vast empire was too powerful; if they didn’t break up, my family wouldn’t let her go. Dax had been heartbroken, but at the time, his own family lacked the power to stand against mine. He’d had no choice but to painfully break up with Seraphina and marry me. Yet, even after all that, I still hadn’t let Seraphina go. He remembered the scene of Seraphina drowning, and it made him want to slaughter my entire family. But he couldn’t avenge Seraphina, so he had to swallow his hatred and live a lie with me. Until today. Finally, he had the power to avenge Seraphina. Dax said nothing more. He dragged me downstairs, opened a small room in the corner of the first floor, and shoved me inside. I stumbled, falling to my knees. My eyes widened in horror as I looked up at the scene before me. On the table in the room sat a framed photo. The girl in the picture was beautiful and delicate, with a melancholic air. It was Seraphina Hayes. I tried to stand, but Dax’s foot lashed out, kicking me in the back of my knee. I crumpled to the floor. “In front of Seraphina, you only deserve to kneel.”

Dax took a few steps closer, his leather shoe pressing down on my bare foot. As I cried out in pain, he spoke slowly. “Tell me, do you think Seraphina felt this much pain the day she died?” I looked at Seraphina’s photo, propping myself up with my arms on the floor. A bitter realization dawned on me, and I suppressed a groan of pain. “Dax, I didn’t kill Seraphina.” Back then, Seraphina had found herself a man far wealthier than Dax and decided to break up with him. I felt bad for Dax, so I didn’t dare tell him the truth. But after I married Dax, Seraphina regretted it. I still remember sitting in Seraphina’s car. She’d said she had something to tell me, but instead, she stomped on the gas pedal, speeding toward the bridge. Seraphina’s expression was wild, her words sharp and venomous. She’d screamed that if I, Elara Vance, died, Dax would forever be hers. But something went wrong with Seraphina’s plan. After the car plunged into the river, I easily unlatched my seatbelt and escaped. Seraphina, however, got stuck in hers and drowned inside the car. And the scratches and marks from our struggle? In Dax’s mind, they became proof that I had deliberately wrestled the steering wheel from Seraphina. Dax pressed down harder, his eyes filled with dark malice. “You still dare to lie?! I saw you climb out of that river with my own eyes while Seraphina stayed at the bottom forever! Are you going to tell me Seraphina drove the car down herself?!” I gasped, a soft whimper of pain escaping my lips. It felt like my foot bone was about to snap under his weight. I shook my head frantically, not knowing how to explain it so Dax would believe me. Seraphina was dead, and her silence condemned me. Seeing my tormented expression, Dax let out a chilling laugh of pure satisfaction. “Before, I couldn’t touch you because of your family’s power. But now Vance Enterprises has fallen. Let’s see who can save you now! And your mother and your sister? I won’t let a single one of them go!” “Are you… are you going to kill them?!” A sudden terror seized me. I tried to pull away, but his foot pinned me down. “Dax Thorne, murder is a crime!” “You killed Seraphina, and the law didn’t punish you, did it?” Dax half-crouched, reaching out to grab my hair, forcing my gaze toward Seraphina’s photo. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. Death would be too easy. I’ll make sure you live a long, miserable life, atoning for Seraphina.” After that, Dax kept me imprisoned in his mansion. My phone was confiscated. My left foot bone was indeed broken, just as he’d promised. But he wouldn’t allow a doctor to treat me. Helpless, I had to suffer in silence, crudely bandaging my foot with a piece of wood, hoping it would heal on its own. Imprisoned, I became Dax’s plaything. My fractured foot was repeatedly tormented by him, shattering any hope of it ever healing properly. Dax pinned me against the cold floor, unleashing his wild, raging desire. The floor was freezing, but Dax’s body was scorching hot. I shivered, caught between the cold and the heat, struggling to breathe. I placed my hands on his arm, which felt like an iron bar wrapped around my neck, and pleaded, my voice breaking. “Dax… you can do anything you want to me… just please, can I see my mother and sister… just once?” Dax’s hand slowly tightened. “Do you want to see their corpses?” My eyes widened in horror. When I spoke again, my voice was choked with tears. “No… no, I don’t… please, my family is innocent, don’t hurt them…” “Your family is innocent? Was Seraphina not innocent?” With that, Dax thrust hard, and a cry of pain escaped my lips. Dax left after he was finished. I slowly got up from the floor, stumbling my way to the bathroom. Warm blood trickled down my thigh and dripped onto the tiles.

I sank into the bathtub, my lower body screaming in burning agony. My face was ashen, and I stared blankly at my horribly deformed left foot. From now on, I’d be crippled for life. I lay in bed, unable to sleep all night. I watched the sky outside gradually lighten. Suddenly, I heard faint sounds. Curiosity stirred. I sat up, limped downstairs, and saw the living room TV was on, broadcasting the city’s top news story. I stood in the living room, frozen. The news headline on the screen read: “Former Vance Enterprises Head Dies of Heart Attack at Home.” The reporter’s camera panned to a sobbing young girl. It was Willow, my little sister. My ears roared. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept my gaze fixed on her frail figure. How could this be? My mother’s health had been improving, hadn’t it? Why would she have a heart attack now? And Willow… she wasn’t even an adult yet. How would she survive out there, all alone? Without thinking, I tried to rush out, but the bodyguards outside pushed me back. No matter what I said, they wouldn’t let me leave. Not until evening, when Dax returned. The TV was still on, playing the evening news, filling the silent living room with a strange clamor. Hearing footsteps, I looked up, staring directly at Dax as he entered. I didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt like a stranger. I’d loved Dax for over a decade, but when had he changed like this? Dax walked over, and a sharp slap landed across my face. My head snapped to the side from the impact. I heard Dax’s voice above me, cold and unforgiving. “You don’t deserve to look at me like that.” A red, swollen handprint bloomed on my pale cheek. I felt no pain, only stared at him with wide, empty eyes. “My mother… did you kill her?” Dax met my gaze. “She deserved it. If she hadn’t forced Seraphina away, Seraphina never would have broken up with me!” Then, Dax sneered. “Rather than saying I killed her, it’s more accurate to say you killed her. If you hadn’t been so desperate to marry me, how would she have died?” My face went white. I couldn’t hear Dax’s continued mocking. Only his words echoed in my mind: *my mother was killed by me*. Yes, wasn’t my mother killed by me? It was my delusional hope, my naive belief that I could win Dax’s heart, that brought about this catastrophe. It was my stupidity, my self-righteous love, that destroyed the Vance family. Salty tears slid past my lips. I mumbled, “I was wrong. It’s all my fault…” After that, I completely gave up fighting. I no longer thought of escaping, nor did I dare mention wanting to see my sister, terrified Dax would hurt Willow. I became a caged bird in Dax’s mansion. The food I ate came back up again. One night, while in bed, I told Dax about it. His frantic thrusts stopped. He’d clearly thought the same thing I had. After he finished, he called his private doctor. The doctor examined me and finally concluded: I was indeed pregnant. One month along. Dax spoke. “Get rid of it.” My hands rested on my lower belly, my expression eerily calm. Dax’s words didn’t faze me. His decision was exactly what I expected. Knowing his personality, he would never allow this child to be born. I suppressed a flicker of sadness in my eyes. This child came at the worst possible time. I didn’t want to bring him into this world to suffer. The doctor hesitated. “We can’t perform the procedure here, Mr. Thorne. Do we need to go to a hospital?” Dax suddenly smiled. “No need.” He dismissed the doctor and called a bodyguard upstairs. The bodyguard entered, carrying an iron bar. My gaze fell on the bar, and a sudden dread filled me. “What are you going to do?” Dax said calmly, “It was my oversight, allowing you to get pregnant.” He gave a look, and the bodyguard stepped forward, pinning me down. I struggled, but couldn’t break free from his grasp.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297282”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

My neighbor abandoned her cat, and I took it in. The cat never warmed up to me, but it clung to my husband, purring and meowing constantly. That’s when a red flag went up for me. When my husband claimed to be working late into the night, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. She ran a hand over her noticeably bulging belly. “Chloe, what can I do for you at this hour?” The blatant challenge and triumph in her eyes made everything crystal clear. In the early hours, my husband crept back home, only to find both our parents waiting. A divorce agreement lay on the coffee table. “Divorce?” “Chloe, are you really throwing away seven years of our relationship over a worthless cat?” Liam didn’t even look at the document. He snatched the divorce agreement and hurled it at the ragdoll cat rubbing against his leg. “If you don’t sign, we’ll go to court.” I said flatly, then turned to walk back to our room. Both sets of parents looked utterly bewildered. They couldn’t understand how a couple who, just last month, seemed like newlyweds could suddenly be on the brink of divorce. Liam lowered his head, trying to conceal the panic in his gaze, his fists clenched and trembling. His parents rushed forward, blocking my path. “Chloe, you can’t accuse Liam of cheating just because of a cat! Some cats are naturally drawn to men. What does that prove?” “We’ve seen how good Liam has been to you. When you had that severe flu and high fever years ago, Liam stayed awake for 48 hours, tirelessly caring for you in the hospital. When you accidentally fell off that mountain, Liam didn’t hesitate to sell his shares, spending a fortune to bring in the top medical team for you.” “Do these things weigh less in your heart than a cat?” My parents also tried to persuade me, speaking earnestly. “If you leave Liam, where will you find such a good husband again?” “Your body was damaged, leaving you unable to conceive. It’s a blessing that Liam hasn’t left you for it. Don’t you realize how lucky you are?” Liam suddenly grabbed my hand, his red-rimmed eyes filled with a desperate, doting look, as if he loved me beyond measure: “Honey, we dated for two years and have been married for five. We faced life-or-death situations together and never let go of each other’s hands. How can you misunderstand me over a cat?” “Is it because I’ve been so busy with problems at the company lately that you feel neglected and unhappy?” “I swear, no matter how busy I am, I’ll come home on time every day to be with you…” Everyone in the room seemed to love me so much. My in-laws were sophisticated and kind; they had always treated me well, never once treated me poorly. My parents were a bit more pragmatic, believing that staying with Liam would guarantee me a good life. But the indifference and resolve in my eyes never wavered. I coolly pushed Liam’s hand away. “I’ll say it again: if you don’t sign tonight, we’re going to court.” “This is my last act of consideration for you.” Liam’s eyes were bloodshot. “Chloe, how can you be so heartless?” “It’s simple. Because I don’t care about you one bit anymore.” With that, I couldn’t be bothered to argue with them anymore. I walked straight to the front door and left. The disappointed sighs of both sets of parents echoed behind me, but I didn’t pause for a moment, quickening my pace. The ragdoll cat also seized the opportunity to slip out. As I sat spacing out on a park bench in the neighborhood, I saw the ragdoll cat chasing its former owner, Skylar, who was downstairs throwing out trash. Skylar viciously kicked its head, but the ragdoll wouldn’t leave for anything. I couldn’t stand it and went over to intervene, but the ragdoll arched its back and hissed at me, claws out. Skylar suddenly chuckled: “Chloe, sometimes people are just like cats.” “If you don’t like someone, you just don’t. No matter how hard you try to force it, it won’t work out.” I looked at the blatant challenge and superiority in Skylar’s eyes, then glanced at her obviously bulging belly, instantly understanding what she meant. “You’re right.” “Desperate cats and people—you can’t keep either.” Liam suddenly showed up, his face filled with tension and panic. But it wasn’t for me. “Chloe, can you just act normal? I told you, the cat being affectionate with me was just a misunderstanding, and it has nothing to do with our neighbor! Causing a scene at home is one thing, but how can you go crazy and harass her? Can’t you see she’s pregnant?” Liam clearly had no idea what had happened. He just saw me with Skylar and instinctively wanted to defend her, treating me like a jealous shrew looking for trouble. I let out a bitter laugh, realizing that even if Liam still loved me, his love for Skylar was greater.

Fearing I’d go harass Skylar again, Liam forcefully dragged me back home. Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s faces were beyond furious. They had already read the contents of the divorce agreement and simply tossed it into the trash. “Chloe, what is the meaning of this? We, the Miller family, have treated you well, haven’t we? It’s bad enough you’re asking for a divorce over a worthless cat, but you also want Liam to leave with nothing?” “Have we been too kind, making you think you can walk all over us?” My parents looked ashamed of me, their faces flushed. “You’re going too far, Chloe. We won’t support you in something so unreasonable.” I didn’t offer any lengthy explanations, simply repeating my previous statement: “If you don’t agree, then I’ll see you in court.” The one who cheated should forfeit everything. Liam’s voice trembled with urgency. “Chloe, are you divorcing me to split my assets? You know the passwords to all my accounts; you can spend whatever you want. Isn’t that enough?” Not all accounts. Or rather, they used to be, but now Liam had several new cards. I had no idea how much money he’d been spending on Skylar behind my back. I was about to point this out when there was a sudden knock at the door. Skylar sweetly greeted us. “Everyone, I apologize for bothering you so late.” “Earlier downstairs, I saw Mr. Miller and Chloe having a misunderstanding because of me. I felt bad about it and came to check.” “Actually, Chloe wasn’t harassing me. She was just taking her anger out on the cat, and I couldn’t stand it and tried to reason with her. It was my fault for interfering; Chloe was right to hit or scold me.” Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s faces turned completely dark. “Chloe, you abuse animals and bully people?” My parents sighed, lamenting my stubbornness. “Chloe, why have you become like this?” None of them noticed a key detail. “Mr. Miller? Skylar, so you know my husband. It must have been difficult to keep quiet all this time, all those times we ran into each other and you didn’t say hello, wasn’t it?” Skylar immediately lowered her head in a panic, like a frightened deer, secretly glancing up at Liam, feigning an innocent mistake while begging for help. Her right hand, adorned with a sparkling diamond ring, again touched her bulging belly. The panic and affection in Liam’s eyes flashed and faded, quickly returning to normal. “I do know Skylar. She’s an entry-level employee at my company; we’ve met a few times.” “I didn’t think she was important, and I also wanted to prevent you from getting the wrong idea, so I just treated her like a mere neighbor. Chloe, just be a good girl and don’t overthink things.” I couldn’t help but laugh. If he had nothing to hide, why was he afraid of me overthinking? And how could an entry-level employee afford a luxury apartment in a prime downtown location? Seeing my silence, Mr. Miller stood up in a huff. “Chloe, if you have proof, I won’t say another word about the divorce and asset split! But if you think you can make Liam leave with nothing based on mere speculation, I warn you, you’re dreaming!” I was about to respond when Skylar beat me to it, blinking. “Leave with nothing? Chloe, isn’t that going too far?” “Even though you haven’t been to the company, all the employees know how much Mr. Miller spoils his wife, how much he loves you. Chloe, are you perhaps seeing someone else and deliberately making a big deal out of me, trying to seize Mr. Miller’s assets?” At that, I raised my hand and slapped her directly across the face. “Watch your mouth.” “Liam might tolerate your nonsense, but I certainly won’t.”

In that instant, Liam involuntarily clenched his fists, his gaze on me filled with fury. After a moment, he calmed down and looked at Skylar with concern. “Are you okay?” Skylar was already crying, her eyes red. “I’m fine. I accidentally said the wrong thing, Chloe was right to hit me. Mr. Miller, please don’t be angry because of me.” After seven years together, it was the first time Liam gritted his teeth at me. “Get on your knees and apologize to Skylar!” I scoffed coldly. “Why should I?” “She was asking for it; she deserved that.” Liam suddenly raised his hand and slapped himself with all his might, half his face instantly swelling and reddening. “Consider that a slap from me, on your behalf.” “Chloe, I’m begging you, please stop this madness, okay?” “Did being cooped up at home and pampered after your injury make you lose your mind? I promise, no matter what’s wrong with you, I’ll never abandon you.” “I’ll give you anything you want, just please, stop talking about divorce, okay?” I didn’t hesitate. “Impossible.” “Every second with you makes me sick to my stomach, suffocated.” His concessions and my defiance. It completely disappointed both sets of parents. Mr. and Mrs. Miller stood up in anger. Before leaving, Mr. Miller coldly stated, “If you insist on divorce, we’ll fight you every step of the way! But don’t even think about taking a single penny of our family’s assets. Even if it costs us everything, I’ll make sure you leave with nothing!” My parents also shook their heads and sighed. “Chloe, you’re the one at fault for making such a scene. If you end up with nothing, you’ll surely regret it.” But was I the one at fault? No. The person I’d bribed at Liam’s company quickly sent me a surveillance video. I was watching it in the spare bedroom when Liam knocked and entered. To prevent him from discovering it and deleting evidence, I quickly put on my Bluetooth earbuds, listening to the audio while putting my phone away. “Chloe, what’s the point of divorcing me?” “You can’t have children. A family with my kind of status would never accept someone like you.” I looked at him with a cold smile. “Liam, why can’t I have children?” Because in the second year of our marriage, I was injured. Liam loved thrills and often did extreme sports, asking me to join him. Once, while rock climbing, Liam slipped and fell. To save him, I risked everything to grab him. He managed to stabilize himself on a protruding rock, but I, completely drained of strength, plummeted down. Everyone said Liam was so good to me, that he risked his life for me. Before me, Liam guiltily lowered his head, silent. Through my earbuds, I clearly heard his and Skylar’s flirtatious laughter. “Liam, that skydiving trip was incredibly thrilling, and I had such a great time. But honestly, if you just take me out sometimes, I’ll be perfectly content. Isn’t it too risky for me to move in next door to you?” After a string of soft kissing sounds, Liam said, “That’s what makes it exciting.” “These past few years, Chloe has become increasingly boring. Only you make me feel the meaning of life…”

After discreetly gathering enough evidence, I went to Liam’s company to investigate his financial status, to prevent him from hiding or transferring assets. Several senior executives knew who I was and cooperated willingly. Only Skylar, relying on Liam’s favoritism, constantly tried to sabotage me, even having someone lead me to the outdoor smoking area. With no one else around, Skylar dropped the act. “Chloe, isn’t it good enough to be a kept woman?” “For infertile trash like you, it’s a blessing that Liam is willing to keep you. Why insist on making a scene and humiliating yourself?” I smirked. “Fine, then I won’t divorce him.” Skylar looked momentarily bewildered. “Huh?” I laughed harder. “So pathetic and stupid. You came here to provoke me, didn’t you? To force me to divorce Liam quickly so you could take my place?” “Too bad after you ‘succeed,’ all you’ll get is a mountain of debt. You’re destined for nothing.” “Remember that ragdoll cat? Your fate is destined to be even worse than its.” Skylar must have seen that ragdoll. It was so starved it couldn’t bear it, returning to my house begging for food, but I directly shut it out. It was forced to fight with other stray cats for scraps, ending up covered in bites and utterly miserable. Perhaps the ragdoll’s fate hit a nerve for Skylar, who gritted her teeth and lunged at me, attacking me. “You’re the one who’s unwanted, the useless one about to be kicked out! How dare you curse me?” My eyes filled with disgust, and I dodged sideways. Skylar lost her balance and fell to the ground, clutching her stomach and sobbing in pain. The commotion attracted others. Liam, hearing what happened, rushed back at top speed. Without a word, he grabbed me, trying to force an apology out of me for Skylar. I coldly refused. “She fell on her own. The surveillance footage can prove it.” Liam gritted his teeth, glaring at me. “Nonsense! Where would there be cameras in the smoking area?” I was about to say there were, but Skylar rubbed her eyes and cried out, “Mr. Miller, don’t blame Chloe. It’s my fault for living next door to you, causing Chloe to misunderstand.” “Could you please beg Chloe for me? She can harass me however she wants if she doesn’t like me, but she can’t intentionally harm the baby in my belly!” Liam’s eyes widened. “Chloe, you’d lay a hand on an unborn baby? The child is innocent!” “Innocent?” I scoffed. “Who knows whose bastard it is anyway—” Before I could finish, Liam’s slap landed hard on my face. “Beyond redemption!” “Chloe, if you insist on acting out, don’t blame me for being ruthless! You wanted to sue? Fine, I’ll arrange the court date tomorrow.” “My family doesn’t need a twisted, inhumane shrew like you!” At that moment, we were no longer husband and wife, but more like mortal enemies. And everyone, including my own parents, stood on Liam’s side. Before the court hearing, they were still trying to persuade me: “Chloe, are you really cheating?” “Now everyone online is saying you’re a despicable woman who conspired with another man to seize your husband’s assets; your reputation is completely ruined.” “Snap out of it, Chloe, don’t ruin your last chance at redemption, okay?” Mr. and Mrs. Miller didn’t even bother to look at me. “An ungrateful viper is an ungrateful viper. You can never tame them.” “Liam, when she regrets it and kneels, begging to reconcile, don’t you dare go soft!” Liam, meanwhile, looked like his patience had run out, offering a final concession. “Admit your mistake now, and I can pretend nothing happened.” “Otherwise, you’ll end up on the streets and grow old alone.” I said nothing, looking at the judge, waiting for the trial to officially begin. And one sentence from the judge instantly drained the color from Liam’s confident face, leaving everyone in disbelief and shock. “How…how could this be?” “Liam, how much have you been hiding from us?” “Liam Miller, do you admit to the fact that you cheated?” The judge’s question immediately sent the courtroom into an uproar.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297280”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

Three years after I announced my death due to illness. My son ran into Ryan Hayes, who had just returned to the country, at the airport. He let Ryan lead him along, blinking his eyes and speaking to him, “Uncle, you look just like my dad.” Ryan squatted down, smiling as he ruffled his hair. “But your mom didn’t choose me in the end, did she?” Today was my fifth anniversary with Ryan, and his idealized first love, Serena, suffering from depression, called again. Her voice was soft and sweet, as if it held a magic, easily stirring up deep memories and emotions within Ryan. “That ocean view we saw before, it was so beautiful. Will you remember Serena in the future, Ryan?” Ryan’s hand, which had been fiddling with his hair, froze. His voice trembled slightly, “Serena, what are you saying? Ryan really likes you.” “I’ll come pick you up. Shall we go to your favorite seafood restaurant for crab, okay?” Ryan’s voice carried a tension others might not have noticed. I watched him turn away without hesitation. My phone smashed onto the floor. Ryan heard the sound and turned back, looking apologetic. He rushed over to me and knelt down. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll make up our anniversary to you another day.” “You’ve always been an understanding girl. Serena has been by my side all this time.” “I can’t just leave her alone.” I looked at his almost pleading eyes, slowly, imperceptibly, I loosened my grip on his sleeve, though my heart was screaming. Still, I couldn’t help but demand, “If you walk out that door today, we might really be over. Don’t you care?” “Even if her leg can’t dance anymore because of you, it’s been so many years. Whatever you owed should have been paid back long ago.” Ryan’s eyes hardened instantly, sharp as a blade. “Summer, stop being unreasonable. You shouldn’t be so jealous.” My vision blurred as his figure shrank, disappearing into the distance. Serena was his untouchable. No one could mention her, no one could touch her. His words from when he was deeply in love still echoed in my ears, “You’ll always be my first choice. I’ll never let you be sad.” Ryan, you broke your promise.

I couldn’t help but recall our college days, me, Ryan, and Serena. I always thought Ryan and Serena had met through me. It wasn’t until the second year Ryan and I were together that I accidentally overheard a conversation between them. That’s when I found out they had known each other for a long time and shared some unforgettable memories. “Now that you’re with Summer, treat her well. She’s a very good girl.” “As for me, a cripple won’t have a bright future.” Her face was devoid of expression, utterly bleak. Serena’s words successfully stirred up Ryan’s guilt. He hugged her tightly. “Serena, I’m so, so sorry! I’ll stay with you until you truly find your own happiness.” “Summer won’t mind.” Many things I didn’t realize at the time. He called her Serena, he called me Summer. I actually wanted to rush out then and ask, “By ‘forever’ staying with her, do you mean the three of us will live together?” But as an understanding girlfriend, I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t until I returned to the dorm that night, looking at each other, us two girls who shared a strange similarity. Serena spoke with a triumphant sneer, “See? Just a few words, and he can’t bear to leave me. You’re just a disposable replacement.” “You probably don’t know this, but Ryan studied medicine because of me. He came to this university because of me too.” I said nothing. Serena slowly, leisurely, stood up from her wheelchair and limped towards the bathroom. “He’s with you out of guilt, unable to get past a hurdle in his heart, that’s why he found you.” She smiled sweetly as she said that. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. I vaguely guessed they had a complicated history. Looking at the wheelchair Serena had left aside, I chuckled, “Well, you’re in the past, after all. Does Ryan know your leg is almost healed?” Ryan came from a prominent family. Serena’s father was a murderer, and her mother was a gambler. Ryan’s father was obsessed with appearances, so as long as he was alive, he would absolutely never let Ryan and Serena be together. At the time, when Ryan’s father found out that Ryan, still in high school, was dating a girl from a troubled background, he was furious. He went straight to the school and took Ryan home. Serena was lost and desolate all day until the news of Ryan going abroad broke. She got into a car accident on her way to the airport. “For a dancer, not being able to dance is like taking my life.” She went on hunger strike, cut her wrists, took sleeping pills. And Ryan stayed by her side through it all. In the end, her voice choked. “But your appearance gave me a sense of crisis. Summer, I’m not like you. I only have Ryan.” The next day, Serena was found having cut her wrists in the dorm. I was scared by the blood everywhere and instinctively stepped back. She looked at me, her face pale. “Do you think Ryan will blame you for provoking me?”

Less than half an hour later, Ryan burst into the hospital room, breathless. He slammed into me, sending me sprawling. My arm hit the nearby metal cabinet. “You were supposed to have moved out. Why were you even here, near Serena?” He took out the soup from the meal tray and carefully fed it to Serena. He then thoughtfully propped a pillow behind her back, before fixing me with a cold stare, his voice laced with accusation. “You knew Serena’s situation was delicate. Why didn’t you stay away from her?” Serena gently wrapped her arms around his neck, whining softly, “Ryan, it hurts so much. I can’t walk like a normal person anymore.” But her triumph was impossible to hide in her eyes. Someone genuinely suffering from depression wouldn’t have that look in their eyes. Yet Ryan hugged her tenderly, gently rubbing her leg. “Serena will get better. Ryan’s here for you.” His entire focus was on Serena, he didn’t notice my bleeding arm, covered in cuts. I comforted myself countless times, telling myself Ryan was only acting out of guilt. Every time, I compromised. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He knew Serena’s illness wasn’t severe to this extent. But later, on a mountain drenched in a downpour, amidst a howling blizzard, on a deserted highway in the dead of night, even at our own wedding, Ryan abandoned me without a second thought and chose Serena. This was his last chance. I ran after him. “Ryan, have you really thought this through?” Ryan’s footsteps faltered. From a distance, I saw guilt in his eyes. “Summer, I’m sorry. I can’t abandon Serena. Her leg is like this because of me.” The outcome was clear long ago. For the first time, I used a hidden ability and heard Ryan’s inner thoughts: “Summer, I’ll make it up to you properly when I get back.” I shook my head, my voice raw and strained. “Ryan, no need. We’re breaking up.” Ryan finally turned and walked towards me, his brows furrowed, his tone filled with displeasure. “Stop being unreasonable! Our relationship and helping Serena recover aren’t mutually exclusive. Why do you have to make it a competition?” “Serena’s by the ocean, it’s dangerous. Her life is on the line, what are you even thinking about?” The atmosphere between us instantly solidified. People around us cast curious glances, eager for drama. A lump formed in my throat, choking back the words. It was useless because Ryan’s mind was completely consumed by Serena at the beach. I managed a faint smile, opening my mouth to speak. But before I could say anything, Ryan’s phone rang. It was our mutual friend, saying Serena’s condition was very bad. In just a few seconds, Ryan made his choice. He abandoned me again without a second thought. Right then, I thought my decision to give up a prestigious university’s exchange program for Ryan was absolutely terrible. I dialed that number, hidden at the very end of my contacts for a long, long time. “Caleb, I’m giving in. I accept your offer.”

Back home, I threw away all my things that were connected to Ryan. I only took a few pieces of clothing. Yes, I left. I walked away from Ryan. My name is Summer, because my mom hoped I’d live my life open-minded, optimistic, kind, and proactive. But I failed not only to do that, I even lost myself. “Summer, long time no see.” Caleb, long time no see. I looked at the man before me. He was still as radiant as he’d been years ago. “How did you end up so miserable without me around?” Caleb took my suitcase, a hint of schadenfreude in his voice. Hearing his familiar voice, my nose stung, and my voice involuntarily caught in my throat. “Yeah, I’m pretty miserable. And I’ll have to trouble the great Caleb, top influencer, for a while.” Caleb haughtily snorted twice. “Summer, I told you long ago to leave him.” “Caleb, I’m pregnant.” Caleb’s grip on my hand tightened abruptly. He seemed agitated. “And you? Do you want to keep it?” I pulled my hand from Caleb’s grasp. “I’m ready to start a new life.” In the following days, I steadily began my new life. I paid no attention to the chaos that had erupted back home. When Ryan returned home the next day, he unexpectedly noticed many things missing from the house. He called our mutual friends. “Has Summer contacted any of you?” All he got were words of advice: “Ryan, I’m just telling you, in this toxic relationship with Serena, you might as well let Summer go.” Everyone’s consistent answer was that they had no idea where Summer went, until Summer’s family was asked. “Summer has a really good friend overseas. You actually know him – Caleb.” Ryan didn’t understand why everyone thought he had wronged me. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the prenatal check-up results on the vanity table. Ryan left the country that very night, taking Serena with him. The next time I met Ryan was at the supermarket downstairs. “Summer!” Caleb reacted faster than I did, swinging a punch at Ryan’s face. “You bastard! How dare you show your face?!” They wrestled, their identities too prominent. If no one pulled them apart, tomorrow’s headline would be “A-List Celebrity and Corporation Heir Brawl in Public: What’s the Real Story?” “We broke up. Don’t come looking for me anymore.” I shielded Caleb behind me, casting a cold gaze at the man and woman opposite us. Ryan pulled out the prenatal check-up results. “Summer, stop messing around. You can’t let our child grow up without a father.” “I terminated the pregnancy.” He froze. He threw down the suitcase he was holding and clamped my arm tightly. “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297278”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I was a ghost-hunting streamer, famously a total scaredy-cat. My genuine, over-the-top reactions to being terrified were what hooked my audience. To challenge the most haunted abandoned hospital in the city, I shelled out big bucks to hire a retired special forces soldier as my bodyguard. But the guy who showed up was lean and pale, with a dark, brooding gaze that made him look more like a ghost than any ghost I’d ever seen. During the livestream, he suddenly grabbed my wrist, flashed an eerie grin at the camera, and said, “Look, everyone, she’s trembling with fear. How cute.” The comments section exploded instantly: [Is this bodyguard the Ghost King?!] [Streamer, run!] My agent sent an encrypted DM, her voice practically trembling: “It’s over! He’s an undercover agent from a rival platform! He’s ‘The Reaper,’ that streamer with ten million followers! He’s here to ruin you!” Staring at his face, identical to the college senior I’d secretly crushed on for three years, my heart turned to ice.

I was an outdoor ghost-hunting streamer, known in the industry as ‘Chloe the Daring.’ My haters, though, affectionately called me ‘Screaming Chloe.’ As the names suggested, my livestream style was all about authenticity. Other ghost-hunting streamers went looking for ghosts; with me, the ghosts usually found me. Other streamers’ comment sections were filled with ‘Jump Scare Warning,’ while mine usually read ‘Protect Our Chloe!’ I couldn’t help it. I was just naturally sensitive to the supernatural, with a special constitution. Growing up, I’d encountered more bizarre things than I could count. Add to that my pathetic courage – one fright, and my screams could shatter glass. I was a literal screaming machine on legs. Over time, thanks to this ‘authentic, no-holds-barred’ cowardice, I actually carved out a niche in the highly competitive streamer world, gaining a loyal following of my adoring ‘troll-fans’ who loved watching me get scared senseless. To give back to my fans and hit next month’s KPIs, I decided to go big or go home – livestreaming an exploration of the city’s most infamous haunted location, the abandoned Blackwood Asylum. Rumor had it, many people had died there, and the place was suffused with dark energy. Anyone who went in either lost their minds or became catatonic, and even stray dogs steered clear. It was truly the ultimate local horror legend. As soon as the news broke, my livestream exploded. [OMG! Chloe, are you serious?! That place is no joke!] [My grandma said something evil is sealed in that hospital’s basement; it’s been cursed since it was built!] [Can’t wait! Already got my recorder ready to make Chloe’s screams my new alarm!] [Protect our Chloe! Let’s crowdfund for some adult diapers for the streamer!] Looking at the screen full of comments, I remained calm on the surface, but internally, I was freaking out. Of course, I knew the place was creepy! But I’d already hyped it up; I had to go whether I liked it or not. For the sake of my life and my KPIs, I gritted my teeth and shelled out a huge sum to hire a retired special forces soldier from a company claiming to be the industry’s best security firm. His profile stated he was six foot three, a master of combat, with an iron will. He’d once fought a bear bare-handed and was nicknamed ‘The Enforcer.’ Looking at the photo of the muscular guy with bulging muscles and piercing eyes, I nodded in satisfaction. With ‘The Enforcer’ by my side, forget ghosts, I wouldn’t even be scared if a T-Rex showed up! On the day of the livestream, I deliberately arrived half an hour early to wait for my ‘Enforcer’ at the hospital entrance. When the appointed time arrived, a discreet black SUV pulled up in front of me. The car door opened, and I rubbed my hands together excitedly, ready to greet the embodiment of my security. Then, I froze. The person who stepped out was a man. He was tall, but ‘muscular’ was definitely not a word I’d use to describe him. Dressed all in black, his frame was lean, and his skin was a cold white that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in years. He had slightly long black hair that partially obscured one eye, while the other, visible eye was incredibly dark, like a bottomless pool of cold water, carrying an unwavering gloom when he looked at someone.

This… this was my ‘Enforcer’? He looked more like a Vampire Count who’d just emerged from a gothic castle, honestly. I stood frozen, stammering, “You… hello, are you Mr. Vance from the security company?” He lifted an eyelid and glanced at me, his gaze so chilling it sent a shiver down my spine. From his throat, he emitted a faint ‘hmm,’ which counted as an answer. I looked at him, then at the photo of the muscle hunk on my phone, plunging into deep self-doubt. “Um… Mr. Vance, is there… a slight discrepancy between your photo and your actual appearance?” I carefully phrased my words. “You look rather… refined. Not quite like the bare-handed bear fighter described in the profile.” At my words, the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch, but the curve was so slight it was almost invisible. “Oh, it was Photoshopped,” he said, concise and to the point. Me: (Speechless) No, seriously, dude. You didn’t just Photoshop a picture; you Photoshopped a whole different person! You look like you’re barely strong enough to open a jar, and they Photoshopped you into a bear fighter? This is fraud! I immediately pulled out my phone, ready to call the security company to complain and demand a refund. “Wait,” he said suddenly, his voice cold and clear, like ice cubes clinking in a glass. He took a step closer. I’m five foot ten, and I still had to tilt my head back slightly to look at him. The huge height difference created an invisible sense of oppression, and the chilly aura around him grew even stronger. “Your livestream is going to be late,” he reminded me. I checked my phone; it was a string of non-stop calls of doom from Brenda, my devil agent. I jolted. There was no time to worry about refunds. If I didn’t start streaming soon, this month’s bonus would be gone! “Fine,” I conceded, but still nervously looked him up and down. “Mr. Vance, are you sure you can handle this? There are real ghosts in there.” He didn’t answer, just stared at me with those pitch-black eyes, making my skin crawl. I felt like I hadn’t just hired a bodyguard; I’d hired an extra ghost for myself. Biting the bullet, I turned on my livestream equipment. The moment the camera light flashed on, I instantly switched from a scaredy-cat to my confident ‘Chloe the Daring’ mode. “Hello, hello! My amazing fam, I’m here! Thanks to my top supporter for the rocket! Today, we’re challenging the legendary Blackwood Asylum!” I forced a professional smile at the camera, then turned it to the man beside me. “For everyone’s safety… no, for *my* safety, I specially hired an elite bodyguard, Mr. Vance!” The comments section instantly scrolled to life. [!!! This bodyguard is so hot!] [He’s hot, but why does he look so frail? Chloe, are you sure he can fight ghosts?] [I feel like he’s scarier than a ghost… those eyes, *shivers*…] [Hey, don’t talk trash, that’s called the cool, aloof type! Obsessed, obsessed!] I cleared my throat, forcefully trying to salvage my reputation. “My fam, don’t judge a book by its cover. Mr. Vance is a man of few words, but fierce – that’s how all the true masters are, understand?” Damon Vance, my ‘unfortunate’ bodyguard, remained expressionless throughout, like a statue devoid of emotion. We walked, one in front of the other, through the asylum’s main entrance. A stale, musty smell, mixed with the sharp scent of disinfectant, hit us, instantly making me uncomfortable. The hallway was dimly lit, with large patches of paint peeling off the walls, revealing dark red brick underneath, like dried bloodstains. I swallowed hard, feeling goosebumps crawl all over my back. “My fam, we’ve now entered the main building, and as you can see, the environment here is… remarkably ‘preserved,’” I said, my palms sweating as I gripped my powerful flashlight tighter.

I subtly shuffled back a step, wanting to be closer to my ‘Enforcer’ for some sense of security. Turns out, he was even quieter than me. He walked so silently that several times when I turned around, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Mr. Vance,” I whispered, lowering my voice. “Could you please make some noise when you walk? Scaring people like that can literally kill them!” He tilted his head, his pitch-black eyes looking exceptionally creepy in the dim light. “Ghosts think the same thing,” he murmured. Me: (Speechless) The comments section had already lost its mind laughing. [Hahahaha! The bodyguard guy totally knows how to mess with the streamer!] [I ship this pair so hard! One screams, one tells ghost stories!] [Chloe: I hired you to protect me, not to scare me!] I took a deep breath, telling myself to be professional and not let a weird bodyguard affect my emotions. We reached the door of a patient room, marked ‘Intensive Care Unit.’ The door was ajar, and faint, almost imperceptible crying drifted out. My legs instantly turned to jelly. “My fam, did you hear that? There’s a sound!” I said, feigning calmness, while frantically hinting at Damon with my eyes. —Dude! Go! It’s your time to shine! Damon received my signal, nodded, and then… walked around behind me, positioning himself *behind* me. Me: (Confused) “What are you doing?” I was dumbfounded. Without changing his expression, he said, “Protecting you.” “How are you going to protect me from *behind* me?!” “If a ghost comes from behind, I’ll spot it first.” I nearly laughed in exasperation. What kind of twisted logic was that?! Just then, a loud *clatter* suddenly came from the patient room, like something had been thrown to the floor. “AHHH—!” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My scream echoed through the entire hallway, and I instantly jumped, clinging to Damon like an octopus. The comments section flooded again. [HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!] [An iconic scene is born! Streamer’s new accessory!] [Why does the bodyguard guy look so calm, like he’s even enjoying it?] I clung tightly to Damon’s neck, burying my face in his shoulder, trembling like a leaf. Damon’s body was cold; I could feel the chill even through his thin clothing. But he was incredibly steady; with a whole person clinging to him, he didn’t even sway. He freed one hand and gently patted my back, a gesture that was surprisingly comforting. Then, he leaned close to my ear, his voice low enough for only us to hear: “Chloe, if you don’t get down, I’m going to throw you in there.” Wait… what did he call me? Chloe? I snapped my head up, staring at him in horror. My real name was known by almost no one except my family and my agent! To protect my privacy, I’d always used my stage name, ‘Chloe the Daring.’ How did he know my name? My heart skipped a beat, and an ominous premonition suddenly arose. Before I could think it through, he’d already grabbed my wrist, forcibly peeling me off him. His strength was astounding; my wrist throbbed where he squeezed it. “Don’t be scared,” he said, looking at me. The corner of his mouth curved into a noticeable smile for the first time, but it made my blood run cold. “I’ll go in with you to take a look.” With that, he pulled me toward the patient room where the strange sound had come from. I struggled desperately, but his pincer-like grip made me utterly unable to move. “No! I’m not going! Let go of me! Help!” I screamed my lungs out.

He, however, suddenly turned his head toward the drone camera still livestreaming behind me, and flashed an eerie smile. “Look, everyone,” his voice, clear through the microphone, echoed across the entire livestream, “she’s trembling with fear. How cute.” The livestream exploded instantly. [OMG! This bodyguard is the Ghost King?!] [So possessive! What kind of forced romance plot is this?! I’m totally shipping it!] [Streamer, run! I feel like he’s going to sacrifice you to a demon!] Just then, my phone vibrated wildly. It was an encrypted DM from Brenda, my agent. I opened it, and there was only one line, but every word slammed into my skull like a hammer. Brenda’s voice was trembling: “It’s over! Chloe! Run! He’s an undercover agent from a rival platform! He’s ‘The Reaper,’ that streamer with ten million followers! He’s here to ruin you!” The Reaper?! My mind buzzed, as if a bomb had just exploded inside it. The Reaper, real name unknown, was the ace horror streamer from the rival platform, known for being calm, hardcore, and never, ever screaming. They said he could catch snakes bare-handed, eat bugs raw, and sleeping in a graveyard was like going home for him. He was widely recognized as the ultimate competitor in the industry, and my sworn enemy. But him… how could he possibly… I snapped my head up, looking at his face again. Lean and pale, gloomy eyes, a high nose bridge, thin lips pressed together… That face… It was identical to the face of the student council president I’d secretly crushed on for three years in college – Damon Vance, the senior who always wore a white shirt and smiled gently in the sunlight… Identical! Back then, I was just a nobody, too timid to even confess my feelings to him. After graduation, he vanished without a trace. I thought he’d gone abroad for further studies and become some kind of social elite. How did he end up as a rival streamer, here to sabotage my career?! My heart froze solid. It was over. Not only was my career doomed today, but my first love was going down with it. I was completely stiff, my mind blank, letting ‘The Reaper’—no, Damon—drag me into that eerie patient room. The room was a mess, a lonely iron bed sat in the center, its sheets covered in dark brown stains. The source of the loud noise had been a metal basin, fallen to the floor. “See? Nothing.” Damon released my wrist, his tone as flat as if he were commenting on the weather. I looked at the red marks on my wrist from his grip, then at his utterly expressionless face, a mix of sorrow and indignation churning inside me. He ruined my livestream, messed with my feelings, and now he wanted to torment me?! Overwhelmed by grief, I forgot all about my livestream persona, pointing a finger at his nose as I began my accusations: “Damon Vance! You liar! You’re no bodyguard, you’re The Reaper! What do you want by sneaking in here? Do you want to make a fool of me? Do you want me to be humiliated in front of millions of people?!” Damon raised an eyebrow at my words, seemingly surprised that I knew his identity. Not only did he not deny it, but he calmly admitted: “Yes.” That single ‘yes’ plunged into my already battered heart like an ice blade. I was trembling with rage: “You… you’re shameless! Why are you doing this to me? I have no past grievances with you, so why use such low-blow tactics?” “No past grievances?” He chuckled lightly, stepping closer to me. “Chloe, your memory is truly terrible.” I backed away repeatedly as he advanced, until my back hit the cold wall, with nowhere left to retreat. “Have you forgotten sophomore year, at the freshman welcoming party, who swapped my speech that I’d prepared for half a month with a presentation on ‘The Secret Lives of Earthworms?’” Me: (Speechless)

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297274”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

My husband blamed me for standing in the way of his big future. He wanted a divorce. But on our way to the courthouse to finalize it, we got into a car crash. When I opened my eyes again, we were both back in time, to the year his childhood sweetheart invited him to start a business abroad. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He went overseas with her. I didn’t try to stop him. I just kept my job packing packages. Seven years later, he was a new business mogul, swimming in fame and fortune. And I was still packing packages. When we met again, he had his arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart’s waist, mocking me, covered in dust and scrapes. “Seven years, and you’re still a pathetic mess, like you’ve been living on the streets!” I just walked past him, ignoring his words. It was at the business finance center’s speaking event. Marcus was back in the country. After seven years, he’d transformed into the CEO of a listed company, a man of fame and fortune, absolutely dominating the scene. As I walked into the conference center, all sorts of big-shot CEOs were swarming around him, eager to shake his hand. Many of them were our old classmates from the university entrepreneurship base. “Marcus, you sly dog, you’re the biggest success story in our class!” “Yeah, seriously! Just a few years, and you’re a CEO! Back in college, I always knew you were destined for greatness, and look at you now! Your grades were stellar, and you were always so driven. I knew you were something special from the start!” “I even heard you invested five million into our old university. That’s insane! I should’ve gone into business with you!” “Marcus isn’t just capable, he’s also dashingly handsome. And I heard your current girlfriend is a gorgeous heiress, spill the beans! How did you two get together? Give us some tips!” Marcus lowered his head and gave a slight smile. “It was just fate.” Then I heard them mention me. “How did things end with you and Scarlett? I remember you two were inseparable in college, so in love.” Marcus’s expression stiffened for a second, then he chuckled lightly. “Our values just didn’t align.” Seeing he didn’t want to talk about it, they didn’t push him. Their attention shifted to his gorgeous heiress. “Are we finally going to meet your stunning girlfriend today?” A shallow smile played on Marcus’s lips. “She’s here too, just went to the restroom. Should be out soon.” Just then, his gorgeous heiress, Celeste, strutted over in her stilettos and settled in beside him. A few classmates gasped like they’d never seen a gorgeous woman before. After a quick cleanup of the mud and scrapes on my arms, I straightened up and walked in with my head held high. One classmate recognized me first. “Holy crap, Scarlett! Speak of the devil!” “Scarlett, our class queen, came to the business lecture too!” “Come on, class queen, come chat with us!” “What happened to you? You’re covered in dirt, and your arms are all messed up. Did you fall somewhere?” I politely gave a few generic replies. Then I turned and met Marcus’s eyes. He frowned, sizing me up from head to toe, his eyes practically screaming ‘disgust’. He was wearing a custom-tailored black suit, his hair styled perfectly—it looked freshly done—like a refined prince. Celeste, sitting next to him, was draped in an expensive mink fur coat, clinging to his arm, nestling into his shoulder, like a delicate, sleeping beauty. They looked like a picture-perfect power couple. Then there was me. My white dress was stained dark with mud, and my arms were covered in bruises. But I didn’t care. I nodded a greeting to them and found a random seat. The lecture still had a little while before it started. I quickly texted my assistant to bring me a change of clothes. Then I buried my head in my phone, listening to their gossip. “I’ve been waiting for this business lecture for ages!” “Tell me about it! This is Liam and his powerhouse wife’s exclusive business secrets! Who wouldn’t want to hear that?!” “I heard Liam and his wife only started their business after they got married. They built their empire from scratch, and in less than three years, they’d amassed a fortune worth hundreds of millions.” “And I also heard Liam loves his wife so much, he even handed over the chairman position to her!” “That’s right. Liam doesn’t let anyone mention his wife online; he keeps her fiercely protected. And his wife is super low-key; she rarely appears in public. No one has even seen her until now! Today, we’re lucky enough to witness this business elite goddess.” “I’m so jealous! They truly are a legendary couple in business! I want to marry a man like Liam!” “And I want to marry an elite goddess like his wife!” My assistant brought the clothes. As I was about to head to the restroom to change, I ran into Marcus on the way. He was leaning against the doorframe, by the entrance. It seemed like he was deliberately waiting for me. But I had no desire to interact with him, so I just ignored him and walked past. To my surprise, he spoke first, calling out to me. “You’re not still packing packages, are you? Seven years, and you’re still a pathetic mess, like you’ve been living on the streets. You haven’t even bought a car, still taking taxis!” “You’re a grown woman, stumbling like a clumsy fool on the street. Aren’t you embarrassed?!” I turned around and, facing that familiar yet strange face, replied firmly: “That’s my business, and it has nothing to do with you.” Marcus clicked his tongue, his face flushing with irritation. “Scarlett, your mouth is still as stubborn as ever! No ambition!” “I know, you must be absolutely kicking yourself now!” I said, “Regret? What do I have to regret?” Hearing my counter-question, he scoffed, a sneer on his face: “Still playing tough, huh? I knew it, you’re nothing without me!” “But I’m not some heartless brute. Given our seven years of marriage, if you just swallow your pride a little, maybe I can offer you a prestigious, high-flying job.” “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need it.” With that, I turned and walked away. He was still yelling behind me, his voice echoing. “Scarlett, don’t be ungrateful! When that day comes, and you regret it, don’t come crawling to me!” “You want to act all high and mighty? Let’s see how long you can keep that up!”

Beg him? Why would I beg him?! Listening to his arrogant tone. It brought back memories of our first life. In our first life, Marcus and I got married right after graduation. After marriage, we started our own business. Soon, we had a small package delivery studio. My daily task was to pack packages. I thought life was pretty good. But in the end, it all fell apart because of human nature. Just before we got married, Celeste had invited Marcus to start a business with her overseas. I didn’t want to go abroad, so he refused. Later, Celeste returned to the country, not only with vast wealth but also as the CEO of a listed company. Marcus felt like he’d missed out on a fortune. His eyes turned red with envy. After a few days of feeling down, he sought out Celeste. This time, she was still willing to take him abroad to develop his career. Marcus was ecstatic. He came back demanding we sell the package delivery studio we’d spent years building. But I wouldn’t let him, and I firmly refused to go abroad with him. He flew into a rage, smashing the entire studio, howling like a mad dog. “Why won’t you go?! This is such a golden opportunity to make money, why aren’t you valuing it?!” I clutched the package box in my hands tighter. “We’ve been working and researching here for years. Victory is just ahead! As long as we keep at it, we’ll make something great!” “Besides, we haven’t failed! The studio expands every year, our quality of life gets better every year. Why can’t you just stick with it?!” After hearing my words, he exploded in anger. “Stick with it? This pathetic little operation, you want me to stick with *this*?!” “Every single classmate and friend who graduated with us is now a CEO rolling in cash, with thousands of employees working for them. I feel like a nobody standing next to them!” I said, “Why would you think that? Who gives a damn about what you’re doing? Everyone’s got their own lives to live. No one’s obsessing over you!” He wouldn’t listen, continuing to argue: “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t refused to go abroad back then, I’d be a multi-millionaire CEO by now!” “Why would I be stuck managing this pathetic little workshop?!” My eyes widened in shock, unable to believe he could say such a thing, blaming his perceived failure on me. “You blame me? I never stopped you back then! How can you blame me? These past few years, besides packing all the packages every day, I’ve been doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of our three-year-old. I’ve become a total wreck! Marcus, what have I ever done to wrong you?!” He seemed even angrier than me. “What else can you do besides pack packages?!” “Are you willing to live like this for the rest of your life?!” “Scarlett, I’m asking you one last time. Are you coming with me or not?!” “If you don’t, then we’re getting a divorce!” I stood frozen in place. For a moment, I felt ridiculous. Seven years of hard work, and the result was a divorce. “What’s wrong with this? Our life is already better than many families. We already have a seven-figure sum in savings. What more do you want?!” Hearing my words, Marcus’s expression was defiant, with a hint of ruthlessness. “What good is a seven-figure sum?! My classmates, their villas are worth seven figures, their sports cars are worth seven figures! Tell me, what can we even do with that?!” “Marcus, opportunities aren’t just abroad. As long as you have determination and capability, opportunities are everywhere. Our little venture isn’t a lost cause…” He violently kicked over the shelving unit, his face turning ashen as he cut me off. “Enough!” “If you won’t go, I will!” “I shouldn’t have married you in the first place. You ruined my big future!” “A stagnant woman like you, Scarlett, you’ll never achieve anything substantial! You deserve to be a miserable, worn-out housewife forever! I’d be embarrassed to be seen with you!” “Just look at Celeste, she’s capable, beautiful, and knows how to make money!” “You’re not even a fraction of what she is!” Hearing those words, tears streamed down my face. I had to take care of our kid, do housework, and help out at the studio every day. I was constantly busy, turning myself into a worn-out wreck, and he started to resent me. “So that’s how pathetic I am in your eyes.” “You know she likes you, and you’re still going with her?” He knew Celeste liked him. Even before we got married, Celeste had pursued him for three years, but he never agreed, ultimately choosing me. Marcus looked arrogant. “Why wouldn’t I go?! Love means nothing when money’s on the table!” “Let’s just part ways peacefully! A stagnant woman like you, content with mediocrity, you’ll just pack packages for the rest of your life. You’ll never have your day in the sun!” “You have no ambition, but don’t you dare stand in my way!” Seven years of marriage. I thought he was a man who only had eyes for me, a loyal and unwavering man. Turns out I was wrong. But just as we were on our way to the courthouse, a large truck suddenly crashed into us. Our car immediately caught fire, accompanied by the ringing explosion. When I opened my eyes again, we had both been reborn. This time, he didn’t hesitate and went abroad with Celeste. And I, like in my first life, opened a small package delivery studio. Only this time, I didn’t have to take care of a child, or do laundry, cook, or mop floors. I could devote myself fully to my work, fulfilling the dream I hadn’t completed in my previous life. Marcus said I had no ambition. Funny! My ambition was no weaker than his.

I had just changed clothes when my husband called. “Sweetheart, my assistant told me you were hit by an old lady’s tricycle and fell into the mud when you got out of the car. Are you hurt? I’ll pick you up to go to the hospital after I’m done with work, okay?” His worried and urgent voice came through the phone. It instantly warmed my heart. I replied to him in a sweet, soft voice: “I’m fine, just a little scratch, no big deal.” “Even a little scratch isn’t okay. You have to go to the hospital after the lecture.” “Okay, okay! Whatever you say.” “Good girl. I’ll be there soon. See you later!” I hung up the phone, a sweet smile still on my face. It wasn’t until I reached the entrance of the conference center that Celeste called out to me. “Scarlett, where did you go? Come over and chat with us.” She quickly got up and pulled me to a seat by the wall. Then she blocked the exit seat with her body. She asked me, “Scarlett, where have you been working these past two years?” Her voice was light and airy, but her eyes were full of mockery. It was obvious she wanted to embarrass me. But I had nothing to hide. I told her honestly, “Packing packages.” The few female classmates around were mostly Celeste’s acquaintances. Hearing my answer, their eyes filled with disdain. “Weren’t you packing packages seven years ago? How are you still packing packages now?” I said, “That’s all I know how to do.” The room immediately burst into laughter. Their laughter was a bit wild, as if packing packages was some shameful job. I didn’t bother stooping to their level. But Celeste was like a leech, clinging to me. “Scarlett, us women, we need to be independent and ambitious, dare to realize our own value. Look, our peers are driving luxury cars, living in mansions, and their monthly income is what you make in several years. And you, you’re still taking a tricycle with old ladies!” “See, aren’t you embarrassing for us women?!” “This lecture is so grand, they let any random cat or dog in here, it’s really lively!” She clearly disliked me, finding subtle ways to mock me. It was all because back in college, she chased Marcus for three years. But Marcus only had eyes for me and never gave her a second glance. From then on, Celeste hated me. Now that she finally saw me, of course she had to get her revenge. The people around me also smirked mockingly. “I heard that Liam, the big boss, met his wife through packing packages. Maybe Scarlett will meet her Liam too.” “Exactly, Scarlett, you can do it too!” “If you can’t achieve success on your own, then just marry a good man and live a life of ease and comfort.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297273”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I spent a decade by Khalil’s side, helping him build his empire and rule the underworld. Then, out of nowhere, he married someone else behind my back. I overheard him joking with his most trusted men, “Make sure Harlow never finds out about my wife, or she’ll blow up, and we won’t be able to calm things down.” For ten years, I was his rock through every storm. He promised that once he left the life of crime, he’d make a home for us together. But now, as he turns his life around and goes legit, those promises have vanished into thin air. I didn’t raise hell or confront him this time. Instead, I found myself in the company of someone new—a devoted companion—and decided to give him a chance. Standing outside Khalil’s office, I listened to the laughter resonating from the lounge down the hall—Khalil and his closest confidants, bantering away. Yahya’s voice rang out teasingly, “Boss, did your wife ring up again yesterday?” A deep, magnetic laugh followed—Khalil’s voice, “She’s constantly on edge, worried some temptress will steal me away.” His tone turned serious, “You are my most trusted allies. Keep my wife a secret from Harlow.” It felt like a punch to the gut. Bjorn’s hesitant voice piped up, “What if Harlow finds out? She’s stuck by you, risking it all for ten years.” Khalil’s voice turned frosty, “Ten years, big deal.” “Great partner, sure, but marriage? Not a good match.” “The company’s evolving. I need a wife who can open doors to high society, not someone tangled in old battles.” “Besides, she can’t have kids anymore. What would become of my legacy? Charity? How laughable.” I stood frozen, ice running through my veins. Memories of that stormy night five years ago hit me like a tidal wave. I was at the hospital for a check-up when Yahya’s call came through, “Harlow! Khalil’s been jumped!” I didn’t wipe off the ultrasound gel. Just threw on my coat and raced there. Khalil was surrounded, his dark suit drenched in blood, left arm hanging limp. The bald leader lunged at his throat with a knife. Instinct took over—I threw myself in front of Khalil, taking the blow. Turning, I blocked another knife aimed at him. Moving an inch would’ve meant his heart pierced. Before I blacked out, I saw Khalil’s eyes, frantic. His voice rang in my ears, “I swear on my life I’ll never betray you…” When I came to in the surgery room, the doctors broke the news: I lost the child and might never conceive again. Khalil sat beside my hospital bed, an IV in his hand, “When this life of battles ends, we’ll get married.” “I’ll tell the world you mean everything to me.” But now, the laughter from down the corridor mocked me awake from my daydream. Those promises and tears seemed to have died with our unborn child in that storm. Khalil’s magnetic voice continued, “Harlow’s got nothing on my wife. Meeting her showed me what a real woman is.” “Soft as water, especially in bed—it’s a whole different experience…” His words slithered into my ears like poison. “Harlow…” He laughed derisively, “She’s like a block of wood, always fighting among men. You’ve seen her wield a knife, right? Tougher than any man, not a hint of femininity.” Khalil took a swig of whiskey, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “I regretted sleeping with her from the start.” “Scarred all over, harsh to touch, unlike my wife’s soft skin.” A chorus of crude laughter erupted from the lounge. My stomach churned as I recalled his first touch, fingers tracing the scar on my belly, calling it a badge of battle. Looking back, his gaze might’ve been pride in conquering a fierce woman, not love. Suddenly, Yahya’s laughter stopped, “Boss, you say all that, but if Harlow finds out…” “What? Can’t I speak the truth?” Khalil slammed his glass down, “She’s just a barren hen, thinking I’d marry her?” My teeth chattered. I wanted to walk away, but my legs felt like lead, unable to decide which foot to move first. “Want to hear the real kicker?” Khalil’s voice was lowered, filled with malicious excitement, “She still thinks I’ll marry her. Every time we’re together, she asks, ‘When are we getting married?’ It drives me crazy…” Bjorn chimed in, concern in his voice, “Boss, secrets don’t keep forever. If Harlow finds out, what’s your plan?” Khalil sneered, swirling his glass, the amber liquid catching his steely gaze. “Why rush? I’ve got it all planned.” His voice dropped, “Next Wednesday’s the final handover with the Phoenix gang; I’m sending Harlow.” Yahya sat up straight, “Boss, Phoenix wants her gone; they hold a grudge…” “Moreover, they’re plotting something for the handover; I’m worried about Harlow’s safety…” Khalil interrupted, smiling cruelly, “Let her step on the mine.” “Phoenix wants her gone, I’ll give them the chance. When she’s in danger, I’ll swoop in to save her, a repayment for saving me.” “Then, I’ll announce my marriage. I doubt she’ll dare trouble my wife again.” I held my breath, afraid to make a sound. Bjorn hesitated, “But she’s been with you for so long, what if…” Khalil lit a cigarette, his face hidden by smoke, “I won’t let gratitude bind me. I just want to be good to my wife now!” He blew out a smoke ring, casually adding, “Next Wednesday, keep quiet. I’m settling this score with her, ending the marriage talk.” I backed away, my legs heavy like lead. The man I shielded with my life now prepared to throw me to the wolves. The fire that burned in me for ten years suddenly went out. I accidentally knocked over a vase in the corridor. The shattering porcelain halted the laughter from the lounge. Khalil bellowed, “Who’s there?” I ducked into the emergency stairwell, ascending one flight before slipping into the elevator. Ten years of whispers and vows through crisis had become the roadblocks in his quest for happiness. My phone buzzed in my pocket—a message from Khalil, “Harlow, where are you? Did you stop by the office today?” With trembling fingers, I almost told him I’d been there, that I’d heard it all. But I hesitated, deleting what I’d written, typing instead, “I don’t want repayment of that empty gratitude. I’m leaving.” Deleted again. In the end, I sent nothing. I stuffed my phone back in my bag and wiped my tears, feeling numb. If you want us to settle the score, I’ll grant your wish. Khalil returned three hours later. “Harlow?” His voice was deliberately gentle, probing. I sat blankly in the living room, but as I turned, a smile was already on my face. “You’re back? I made your favorite chicken soup with sweet potatoes in the kitchen.” His eyes lingered on me for a moment, his Adam’s apple moving slightly. “Where were you this afternoon? You didn’t answer any of my messages.” I moved toward the storage cabinet, catching a glimpse of his tense jawline in the reflection of the glass door. “I went to pick up your birthday gift. Once I got back, I got busy with dinner and forgot to reply.” When I revealed the Rolex watch from its box, I saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. I fastened the watch onto his wrist. “Next Thursday is Thanksgiving, and it’s also the day you retire. It’s a big double celebration.” His voice was a bit hoarse. “Did you spend all your savings on this watch?” I secured the clasp. “Sincerity can’t be measured in money, Khalil.” I suddenly looked up, meeting his gaze directly. “Is there anything you need to tell me?” The air grew thick with tension. Emotions swirled in his eyes—partially moved, partially conflicted. Just when I thought he might say something, the phone rang, breaking the moment. All the unspoken words faded away with the ringing, and the light in my eyes slowly dimmed. He answered quickly, masking the emotions that had just surfaced. I could only hear a woman’s voice on the other end, asking him when he’d be home, promising a surprise for the evening. His expression brightened instantly, filled with anticipation. He hung up quickly and turned to me, “Something’s come up with the crew. I need to handle it. I’ll make it up to you later.” He hurried out, leaving only the aftershocks of a closing door. I stood frozen at the entrance, feeling my entire body grow rigid. Soon, it was time to meet with Judah Franklin’s crew. Khalil’s call came through beforehand, “Harlow, this is the last deal. I don’t trust anyone else; only you.” I stood by the large window, gazing at the overcast sky outside, a faint, forlorn smile stretching across my lips. “Alright.” I replied softly, my voice steady, “I’ll be there on time.” Whether it was to repay a debt or step into the unknown, I was ready. 2 a.m., international waters. Judah’s ship approached slowly. The deck was crowded with people, a mass of shadows under the moonlight, knives flashing menacingly in the night. Judah stood at the bow, grinning widely, “Miss Thompson, long time no see.” I nodded slightly, signaling my men to bring the cargo onto the deck. “Inspect the goods.” Judah ordered his men to check the shipment, but as soon as the cover was lifted, he shouted, “Open fire!” Bang! Almost simultaneously, Judah’s crew attacked from all sides! “Miss Thompson! We’ve been ambushed!” My men shouted in panic, but Khalil had sent too few people; we were quickly cornered! Bullets whizzed past as I dodged a fatal shot, raising my hand to take down an oncoming enemy. But there were too many, and we were pushed back. “Retreat!” I yelled, “Everyone to the speedboats!” My men quickly retreated while I covered them, running out of ammunition fast. Just as I was about to jump onto a boat, a bullet pierced my shoulder from behind! Pain exploded instantly as I staggered and turned back, only to see Nikolai, one of Khalil’s men, slowly lowering his weapon, his eyes cold. I lost my balance, plunged into the sea, and the cold water swallowed me whole. Staring up at the ocean surface, I saw in the distance Khalil’s ship speeding toward me. He finally came. To play out his tale of settling scores. But I no longer needed him.

I once thought Frank Tucker was the love of my life. Convincing my family to accept our extravagant wedding was a significant challenge. My parents even planned to launch a billion-dollar True Love Jewelry line on our wedding day. But just a week before the ceremony, Frank dropped a bombshell, insisting he needed to marry Celeste Armstrong first to fulfill a promise to her late mother, his first love. “For Celeste’s sake, everything else can be put aside,” he said impatiently. “If money is your concern, why don’t you just find someone else to marry?” It dawned on me then that in his world, both I and my career were always secondary to his romanticized vision of Celeste. Resolute, I turned around and called my family, “Sam, keep the wedding as planned but find me another groom.” On the day I went to try on wedding dresses, I waited a long time outside Autumn Saunders’ company before she lazily descended the stairs. As soon as we got into the car, she tossed me a necklace. “Celeste wanted me to give this to you. She felt awkward at the funeral yesterday because of you. Maybe you should find some time to apologize.” The necklace was obviously a promotional gift; I had seen it in Frank’s online shopping cart days ago. I replied indifferently, “I don’t want it.” Frank frowned. “Why are you upset now? You embarrassed her by stating I’m not her fiancé at the funeral, and she didn’t even hold a grudge. She even thought to send you a gift, and you’re being ungrateful?” The Frank who once stood by me was gone; now he cherished someone else. Frustrated, he opened the car window. After a long silence, seeing no sign of appeasement from me, he finally relented, “Fine, I’m accompanying you to the bridal fitting today, so let’s not argue.” It was the first time all year he had conceded anything. At the bridal shop, the staff greeted us warmly: “Mr. Tucker, Miss Hicks, your twenty custom wedding gowns and suits are ready.” But Frank’s mind was elsewhere; his eyes were glued to his phone, urgency evident on his face. Catching my look, he quickly put his phone away and, with a trace of apology, said, “Addison, something’s come up with Celeste. I need to leave right away. Try on the dresses yourself and pick a suit for me as well. I trust your judgment.” With that, he hurriedly hailed a cab, leaving me alone. The staff approached, tentatively asking, “Miss Hicks, would you like to personally choose the suit?” I pulled my gaze back from the door and nodded. Of course, I needed to choose a suit, but it wasn’t for Frank Tucker. After all, the groom had changed. “Sam, keep the wedding as planned but find me another groom.” Sam was incredulous, “You’re calling off the wedding?” “No, he wants to marry someone else,” I replied with a bitter smile. I had navigated so many familial hurdles to be with Frank, gaining my parents’ approval and tying the launch of our jewelry line to the wedding day. Now, all efforts seemed in vain. Sam paused for a long time before saying, “That leaves Josiah Hicks. His family has been pressuring him lately, and he’s been seeking a bride.” I frowned. Josiah was my arch-nemesis. On the day of our engagement, he foretold that my dream wedding would crumble, and ironically, here we were. With time running short, I could only say, “Then him. See if he’s interested. If not, I’ll figure something else out.” Sam quickly responded, “No need to ask. He’ll definitely agree.” “What?” Before I could probe further, Sam muttered something and hung up. After selecting wedding dresses, I got into a car to go home, expecting Frank wouldn’t return all night. But as dinnertime approached, there he was. He walked briskly up to me, holding a takeout box. “I went across town to get this for you, late-night snacks from Harry’s.” I looked at the ravioli in front of me. There were three fewer than usual, and one had a bite mark—clearly someone else had eaten it. Half an hour ago, I had seen Celeste post on Instagram, sharing the same food I now held. “My man didn’t forget to grab me a late-night snack. Thanks, love!” I put down my fork, suddenly losing my appetite. “I don’t want to eat. Just toss it out.” Frank looked annoyed but held his tongue and sat next to me to complain. “You have no idea how upset Celeste was today. Her parents went over to her house, berating her for having no money and no decent dowry. She was so upset she cried.” “Celeste just returned from abroad and doesn’t have much money. I thought your dowry could help her out.” His presumptive tone made my stomach churn. I looked at him with a sardonic smile, “So it’s my job to provide the dowry for your wife?” No wonder Celeste Armstrong would go to such insane lengths, even digging up her own mother’s grave just to frame me. It turns out her supposed death was all a charade. I texted Frank Tucker: “Celeste’s mom isn’t dead. Check the email I sent you for the truth.” Whether he reads it or not is no longer my concern. Josiah Hicks personally booked my flight for three days later. When Frank came back, he found me packing. Half of my clothes were strewn about; some were earmarked for New York. “Why are you packing?” Frank asked, his tone tinged with suspicion. “I’m just relocating,” I replied casually. He paused for a moment, not grasping the reality, and continued, “The company is in New York. We’ll need to settle there after the wedding, so it’s good to get a head start.” Finishing his statement, he shot me an intense look. “You should apologize about Celeste’s mom soon. Don’t put me in a tough spot—how about doing it on the wedding day?” With that, he tossed his phone onto the table and went off to find his ID; he and Celeste were getting their marriage license today. He didn’t return until late that night. When I checked my phone, there was already a message from Celeste. She’d sent a picture of her and Frank in matching outfits, lying side by side in bed. I shut my eyes, trying to suppress the ache in my heart. I suppressed the surge of emotions and switched off the phone. All night, it buzzed every hour with Celeste sending videos of her and Frank, each one more mocking than the last. The next morning, Josiah messaged me. “Addison, the flowers have bloomed. You can return whenever you wish.” Attached was a photo of two marriage licenses next to a vibrant red rose. I hadn’t expected him to keep the plant I’d given him so long ago. A strange emotion bubbled up inside me. I replied with a simple, “Okay.” As I set my phone aside and began organizing my work files, Frank showed up again, packing his everyday essentials. “I’ll be staying with Celeste for a few days to help with wedding preparations. She’s swamped, handling it all by herself. Make sure you’re prompt for the wedding the day after tomorrow.” After talking, he launched into a long explanation, insisting he was just going to assist and asking me not to cause any trouble. “I won’t be attending,” I said, my gaze lowered. After last night, any lingering affection I had for him had evaporated entirely. Seeing my composed demeanor, an inexplicable panic swept over Frank. He hesitated. But recalling Celeste’s insistent pleading, he relaxed his grip on the phone. How could Addison, who loved him so deeply, ever let something go off track? Feeling assured, he breathed a sigh of relief and disappeared from my view without further argument. Watching his back as he left, I dialed a number. That evening, a helicopter landed in the town square. A man approached me. “Ms. Hicks, your helicopter is ready. It will transport you safely to New York in half an hour.” I nodded, handing him an envelope. “Deliver this to the wedding tomorrow. It’s my wedding gift to the bride and groom.”

The maître d’ approached with that look—pity barely masked by professional courtesy. “Another glass of champagne, Mrs. Montgomery?” I shook my head, forcing a smile that felt like cracked porcelain. “No, thank you. I’m sure my husband will be here any minute.” We both knew it was a lie. The anniversary dinner reservation had been for 7:30 PM. The delicate watch on my wrist—a wedding gift from Chris—now read 9:17. Around me, Boston’s elite dined in intimate pairs, their laughter and conversation forming a backdrop that only amplified my solitude. The candle between the two place settings had burned down significantly, wax pooling on the pristine tablecloth. The small gift box wrapped in silver paper sat untouched beside my plate, corners perfectly aligned the way Chris preferred things. Beside it lay the cream-colored envelope containing my handwritten letter—words I’d rewritten a dozen times, trying to breathe life back into our marriage. I reached for my phone, tucked discreetly in my clutch beneath the table. No missed calls. No apologetic texts. Just silence—the kind I’d grown accustomed to over three years of marriage. My finger hovered over Chris’s name, but pride kept me from calling. Again. Instead, I opened Instagram, a habit born of masochism more than hope. The first post stopped my breath. There he was. My husband, his strong arm wrapped protectively around Jamie Collins’s slender waist as he guided her through the sliding doors of Boston General’s emergency entrance. Her head rested against his shoulder, face contorted in apparent pain. The caption read: *Chief Montgomery to the rescue! Even America’s Sweetheart @JamieCollinsRN needs a hero sometimes. #NightShiftDrama #BostonGeneral* The timestamp: 7:15 PM. Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet me. I zoomed in on the image, studying the details like a pathologist examining tissue. Chris’s expression—concern etched across his handsome features, but something else too. A tenderness I hadn’t seen directed at me in… I couldn’t remember how long. Jamie’s designer blouse, perfectly pressed despite her “sudden illness.” The way her manicured hand clutched at his lapel. The comments scrolled beneath: *OMG they’re so cute together!* *Wasn’t tonight his anniversary? Awkward…* *Poor Evelyn Parker always waiting somewhere LOL* I set my phone down with trembling fingers, heat rising to my cheeks. Everyone knew. The entire hospital staff, their social circles, probably half of Boston’s upper crust—all watching this slow-motion car crash that was my marriage. The waiter approached again, this time without words as he cleared away the untouched champagne flute and the bread basket that had gone stale. His eyes flicked to the gift and letter before looking away quickly. “I’ll take the check,” I said softly. “Dr. Montgomery already arranged to have the dinner charged to your account, Mrs. Montgomery. Standing instructions.” His voice was kind, which somehow made it worse. Of course. Chris had set up automatic billing for our anniversary dinners. Efficient, like everything else about him. Except showing up. — The morning light streamed through the penthouse windows when I returned from my sister’s apartment. I hadn’t been able to face our empty bed last night, not after sitting alone in that restaurant, not after those photos. The silence of our home greeted me—pristine surfaces, designer furniture, the curated art pieces that decorated walls but somehow never made this place feel warm. I set my keys in the crystal dish by the door, the soft clink echoing through the space. That’s when I saw it. Draped carelessly over the back of our Italian leather couch—a camel-colored scarf with the distinctive Burberry pattern. Not mine. I approached it slowly, as if it might rear up like a snake. My fingers brushed the cashmere, still carrying the faint warmth of its owner. I lifted it to my face, inhaling involuntarily. Floral notes with a hint of something spicy. Unmistakably feminine, unmistakably not my signature scent. The perfume lingered in the air too, I realized—not just on the scarf. It hung in our living room like an invisible intruder. I followed the scent, my legs moving mechanically toward our bedroom. The bed was made—our housekeeper’s work, not Chris’s. But one of the decorative pillows was slightly askew, the duvet not quite perfectly aligned. Something inside me—something that had been bending and bending for three long years—finally snapped. I stood in our pristine living room, the Burberry scarf clutched in my trembling hand as I heard the front door open. Chris strode in with the confidence of a man who owned the world—tailored suit, not a hair out of place, his surgeon’s hands holding nothing but his phone and car keys. No gift. No apology. “You’re home,” he said, his tone suggesting mild surprise rather than guilt. He set his keys in the crystal dish beside mine, the soft clink echoing between us. “I found this.” I held up the scarf, watching his face for any flicker of recognition or remorse. “And there’s perfume in the air. Perfume that isn’t mine.” His expression remained impassive, but something hardened in his eyes. “What exactly are you implying, Evelyn?” “I’m not implying anything. I’m asking why Jamie Collins’s scarf is in our living room, and why our bedroom smells like her perfume.” My voice was steadier than I expected, fueled by three years of swallowed hurt. Chris sighed—the patronizing sound he reserved for patients who questioned his medical judgment. “That’s Jamie’s? She must have left it when the surgical team met here last week for the quarterly planning session. You were at your mother’s charity event, remember?” I hadn’t known about any meeting in our home. “And the photos of you bringing her to the ER last night? During our anniversary dinner?” The words scraped my throat on their way out. His face softened into something resembling concern, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “She collapsed after her shift. What was I supposed to do, Evelyn? Let her suffer because we had dinner plans?” “You could have called.” “I was busy saving someone who needed me.” He stepped closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. They felt heavy, not comforting. “Honestly, this jealousy isn’t like you. Jamie is my resident, nothing more. Perhaps you should talk to someone about these… insecurities.” The suggestion that I needed therapy for noticing the obvious made something cold settle in my stomach. I stepped back, his hands falling away. “I waited for two hours,” I said quietly. “And I’m sorry about that.” He wasn’t. “But this paranoia needs to stop. It’s beneath you, and frankly, it’s beneath us.” Us. As if we were still a team. As if there had ever been an “us” beyond the merger of our family names and bank accounts. I watched him walk away, disappearing into his study without another glance at the scarf still dangling from my fingers. — The Boston General Foundation Gala glittered with wealth and ambition. Crystal chandeliers cast diamond-like reflections across the ballroom as Boston’s elite mingled, champagne flutes in hand. At our table near the stage, I sat alone while Chris worked the room, his charismatic laugh carrying across the space. “Mrs. Montgomery, you look absolutely stunning tonight,” Dr. Weiss’s wife said, settling into the chair beside me. Her eyes held the same pity I’d seen in the maître d’s. I smiled politely, smoothing the silk of my emerald gown. “Thank you. And please, call me Evelyn.” Chris finally returned to our table just as the hospital director took the stage to introduce him. He squeezed my shoulder briefly—a public display of affection for watching eyes—before straightening his bow tie. “And now, I’m pleased to introduce our Chief of Surgery, the visionary behind Boston General’s upcoming West Wing expansion, Dr. Christopher Montgomery.” Applause rippled through the room as Chris ascended the steps to the podium, his smile dazzling under the spotlights. I clapped mechanically, the diamond wedding band on my finger catching the light. “Thank you all for your continued support of Boston General,” Chris began, his voice commanding the room. “Tonight’s contributions will—” A commotion from the side of the stage interrupted him. Jamie Collins, resplendent in a form-fitting silver dress, swayed dramatically, one hand pressed to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” she called out, voice breathy and weak. “I feel faint…” Without hesitation—without even a glance in my direction—Chris abandoned his speech mid-sentence, rushing to her side. The microphone picked up his concerned murmur: “I’ve got you, Jamie.” Every eye in the ballroom shifted from them to me, watching for my reaction as my husband guided his resident to a chair, kneeling beside her with tender attention. I remained perfectly still, my face a practiced mask of composure while something inside me calcified into resolve. This would be the last time Christopher Montgomery made me a spectacle of pity. I sat across from Marcus in his office, the morning light filtering through the blinds and casting striped shadows across his polished desk. His eyes—kind but shrewd—studied me as I slid the folder of documents toward him. “You’re certain about this?” he asked, his voice steady and calm as always. “I’ve never been more certain of anything,” I replied, surprised by the steadiness in my own voice. Three days had passed since the gala, since Jamie’s theatrical swoon and Chris’s reflexive abandonment of his speech to rush to her side. Three days of silent meals and separate bedrooms. Marcus nodded, opening the folder to review the withdrawal forms I’d already filled out. “The West Wing expansion is his pet project,” he said, not a question but a statement of fact. “Without your family’s backing, it stalls immediately.” “I know.” A small smile played at my lips. “That’s rather the point.” He met my gaze, his expression professional but with an undercurrent of approval. “I’ll process these personally. The first transfers should complete by tomorrow.” I picked up the Mont Blanc pen he offered, feeling its weight in my hand. Each signature felt like reclaiming a piece of myself—Parker funds that had been funneled into Montgomery dreams without so much as a consultation. One elegant stroke after another, I signed my maiden name. Evelyn Parker. Not Montgomery. Parker. “There will be questions,” Marcus warned gently. “From the board, from Chris.” “Let there be,” I replied, capping the pen with a satisfying click. — The text message came three days later from Olivia Chen, a nurse I’d always exchanged pleasantries with during hospital functions. We weren’t close, but there had always been a quiet respect between us. *I think you should see this. I’m sorry.* Attached was a screenshot of what appeared to be an accidental group text Jamie had sent to several hospital staff members before quickly deleting it. But not quickly enough. The image showed Chris, unmistakably Chris, shirtless in what was clearly not our bed. The timestamp: 2:17 AM last night. While I’d been sleeping alone in our penthouse, believing he was working a late shift. I stared at my phone, waiting for the tidal wave of pain to hit. Instead, I felt an odd sense of validation. Proof. Finally, irrefutable proof that I wasn’t paranoid, wasn’t imagining things, wasn’t—as Chris had suggested—in need of therapy for my “insecurities.” *Thank you, Olivia,* I typed back, my fingers steady. Her response came quickly: *Are you okay?* I considered the question, truly considered it. Was I okay? No. But I would be. *I will be,* I replied honestly. — The doorman called up just after midnight. “Mrs. Montgomery, there’s a courier with a delivery for you. He insists it’s urgent.” “Send him up, please, Thomas.” Minutes later, I signed for a manila envelope with no return address. The courier—a young man with tired eyes—nodded respectfully before disappearing back toward the elevator. Inside the envelope: eight high-quality photographs. Chris and Jamie at an intimate restaurant in Cambridge, his hand covering hers on the table. Chris and Jamie entering a hotel that wasn’t Boston General. Chris kissing Jamie against her car in a darkened parking garage, his wedding ring clearly visible on the hand cupping her face. I spread the photos across our dining table, studying each one methodically, as if they were evidence in a case I was building. Which, in a way, they were. My laptop hummed to life as I created a new, encrypted folder. I scanned each photograph, saved it, and labeled it with the date visible on the timestamp. Then I gathered the physical copies, returned them to the envelope, and locked them in my personal safe—the one Chris didn’t have the combination to. Someone was watching them. Someone wanted me to know. As I closed my laptop, my phone lit up with a text from Chris: *Surgery running late. Don’t wait up.* I smiled to myself, a cold, determined smile that would have surprised anyone who thought they knew Evelyn Parker-Montgomery. *No,* I texted back. *I won’t wait.*