I had been with Ethan for three years, and he had one unbreakable habit. Every night at ten-thirty, he would send me a sixty-second voice memo. It was always him reading romantic poems or classic prose. I treasured those voice memos like they were priceless gold. I saved every single one in a Snapchat folder named “Ethan’s Lullabies.” I really thought it was his own special, romantic way of loving me. Until I was planning our wedding, and I found a private podcast on my best friend Chloe’s iPad. There were over seven hundred audio files in there. The poems, the tone, even the tiny rustle of pages turning in the background—they were identical to the ones in my folder. The only difference was the timestamp. She received them an hour and a half earlier than I did every single night. As it turned out, the exclusive romance I treasured was just a second-hand forward, sent to me after he was done comforting someone else. I stared at the playlist of that private podcast on the iPad screen, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. “My sweet Chloe, here’s a little Shakespeare for you tonight. Sleep tight, beautiful.” Ethan’s deep, velvety voice came through the headphones, carrying a hint of lazy tenderness. In the background, there was a faint, distinct click of a Zippo lighter. I knew that sound too well. Because on my phone, inside the “Ethan’s Lullabies” folder, there was a voice memo that sounded exactly like this. Even the lighter clicked at the exact same second. My hands trembled as I clicked on the upload history. Seven hundred and thirty audio files. Every single one was uploaded at 9:00 PM. And I always received Ethan’s voice memos at 10:30 PM. For three years, over a thousand days and nights. He had been recording these sweet lullabies for Chloe at nine, and then, like checking off a chore on his to-do list, he forwarded the exact same audio file to me ninety minutes later. The deep love I thought we had, the special ritual I thought was ours alone… was just a massive, pathetic lie. A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach. I ripped the headphones off and gasped for air. Chloe’s iPad screen was still glowing. She had lent it to me half an hour ago to pick some background music for my wedding. She probably forgot to log out of her private account. Or maybe, she did it on purpose. The front door lock beeped. Ethan walked in, bringing the chilly autumn breeze with him. He was holding a beautiful, vintage paper shopping bag. Seeing me on the couch, he immediately offered a warm smile. “Freya, look what I got for you.” He took off his shoes, walked over, and handed me the bag. “That limited-edition vintage Leica camera you mentioned once? I pulled a lot of strings to get it from a collector in Japan. A pre-wedding gift for my beautiful bride.” Ethan’s eyes sparkled with a desperate desire to please me. He leaned in, trying to kiss my cheek out of habit. I instinctively leaned back, avoiding his touch. There was a faint scent of woody rose perfume on him. It was Chloe’s favorite brand—a niche, strong fragrance that lingered for hours. Ethan froze mid-air, a flash of confusion crossing his eyes, but he quickly recovered. “What’s wrong? Stressing out over the wedding plans?” He gently stroked my hair. I didn’t say a word. My eyes fell on the Leica camera. On its brass edge, there was a tiny, sharp scratch, like it had been scraped by a manicured nail. Just ten minutes ago, Chloe had posted a picture on her close friends’ Instagram story. It was the exact same Leica camera, with the exact same scratch on the corner. Her caption read: [A priceless vintage piece to others, but to me, just a little token of his everyday indulgence.] Looking at that scratch made my eyes sting like crazy. “Where did you get this camera?” My voice was flat, like a dead pool of water. Ethan walked over to the kitchen island and poured himself a glass of water, completely unfazed. “A friend shipped it to my office. I just grabbed it on my way home. Do you like it?” He didn’t even bother to make up a decent lie. Watching him drink water, I suddenly felt that this man, whom I had loved for three years, was a complete stranger. Right then, Ethan’s phone on the counter lit up. Caller ID: Chloe. Without hesitation, he picked up the call right in front of me and even put it on speaker. “Ethan…” Chloe’s voice came through, filled with tears and panic. “The pipe under my sink just burst! There’s water everywhere, and the landlord isn’t picking up. I’m so scared. Can you please come over?” Ethan’s brows knitted instantly. He checked the wall clock. “Don’t panic. Shut off the main water valve first, go stand somewhere dry, and wait for me. I’m on my way.” He hung up, turned to me, and spoke in a tone that left no room for argument. “Freya, Chloe has an emergency. Her pipes burst, and she can’t handle it alone. I’ll go help her out real quick and come right back.” I leaned back on the couch, looking at him coldly. “If her pipes burst, she should call a plumber, her landlord, or emergency maintenance. Are you a licensed plumber now, Ethan?” Ethan froze. For the past three years, I had never spoken to him in such a sharp tone. I had always been the sweet, understanding fiancée. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice dropping into an impatient, patronizing sigh. “Freya, stop being difficult. Chloe is your best friend. She’s all alone in this city. What’s wrong with me helping her out when she’s in trouble? Since when did you become so heartless?” As he spoke, he pulled a velvet Bvlgari box from his pocket and placed it in front of me. “I bought you this necklace on my way home. Be good, wait for me. I’ll come back to keep you company as soon as I fix this.” With that, he grabbed his car keys and walked out without looking back. As the front door slammed shut, the entire apartment fell into a dead silence. I looked at the Bvlgari box, then at the second-hand Leica camera, and suddenly let out a laugh. Tears streamed down my face, burning hot against my skin. I didn’t touch the jewelry box. Instead, I grabbed my phone and dialed the HR director at our Milan headquarters. A month ago, the company had offered me a promotion to be the Design Director for the Milan region. I had turned it down without a second thought because of my wedding with Ethan. “Hi Lisa, sorry for calling so late. Is that Director position in Milan still open?” There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by an excited voice. “Of course it is! Freya, did you change your mind?” “Yes. I accept the relocation. The sooner I can start, the better.” After hanging up, I went into my study. I took all the audio files from Chloe’s private podcast and the screenshot of her Instagram story, and backed them all up into an encrypted cloud drive. At 10:30 PM. My phone buzzed right on time. Ethan had sent a sixty-second voice memo. I clicked it. It was him reading Shakespeare. In the background, the sharp click of the lighter sounded louder than ever. And ninety minutes ago, this exact audio had already been safely uploaded to Chloe’s private podcast.

The next afternoon was our scheduled wedding dress fitting. Ethan showed up on time at the luxury bridal boutique, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, Chloe was standing right next to him. Chloe was wearing a chic Chanel-style tweed set, her makeup flawless. She showed absolutely no signs of the “water pipe trauma” from last night. “Freya, thank God Ethan came over last night, or my apartment would have been a swimming pool. I came today to help you pick your wedding gown to make it up to you!” Chloe reached out to grab my arm affectionately, but I took a step back, dodging her touch smoothly. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Instead, her eyes started wandering over the expensive custom gowns in the boutique. The designer walked over with a warm smile, bringing down the custom gown I had ordered six months ago. “Miss Miller, your wedding gown is ready for the final waist adjustments. You can try it on in the fitting room first.” Just as I was about to take the gown, Chloe let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my gosh! This velvet cape is absolutely gorgeous!” She pointed to a dark emerald velvet cape on a nearby mannequin, embroidered with intricate gold threads. It was breathtakingly luxurious. “That’s Miss Miller’s custom-ordered cape. The gold embroidery is entirely hand-stitched. It took our artisans three months to finish,” the designer introduced proudly. Chloe bit her lower lip, her eyes filled with envy and a sudden, forced sadness. “It’s so beautiful… I guess girls like me will never get to wear something this perfect in our entire lives.” Seeing this, Ethan immediately turned to me and said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “Freya, that cape looks pretty loose anyway. Since Chloe loves it so much, why don’t you let her try it on first? You two are about the same size.” The designer’s smile froze, and she looked at me awkwardly. I stopped in my tracks and stared coldly at Ethan. “This is my custom couture. I don’t share things that touch my skin.” Ethan’s brows furrowed instantly, clearly feeling like I had embarrassed him in front of others. “It’s just trying it on, it’s not going to ruin it. Since when did you become so petty? Chloe just wants to see how it looks. Can’t you just do this small favor for your best friend?” Chloe quickly waved her hands, her eyes turning red as she played the victim. “It’s fine, Ethan. Freya doesn’t like people touching her things. I won’t try it. I don’t want to make her mad.” The more she played the victim, the more Ethan thought I was being unreasonable. He walked right past me and ordered the designer, “Take that cape down and let her try it on.” The designer had no choice but to carefully remove the cape and drape it over Chloe’s shoulders. Chloe walked to the full-length mirror, turning left and right. Her eyes were filled with the smug satisfaction of winning. Ethan stood behind her, watching her reflection. His gaze was deep, and his throat bobbed slightly. He had completely forgotten that today was supposed to be his fiancée’s fitting day. Right then, Chloe reached out to touch the gold embroidery on the cape. “Oh!” With a sharp gasp, there was a sickening rip. The massive, cluster-diamond ring on Chloe’s ring finger had snagged hard on the gold threads of the cape. She had pulled too quickly, ripping a long tear right through the custom embroidery. The expensive velvet fabric was ruined. “Oh my goodness!” The designer gasped in horror. Ethan’s first reaction wasn’t to look at the six-figure custom cape. Instead, he grabbed Chloe’s hand frantically. “Did you hurt your hand? Did the ring scratch your finger?” Chloe shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she looked at me in terror. “Freya, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to. I didn’t know my ring would snag… How much is the cape? I’ll pay you back!” Ethan immediately shielded her behind his back, like a knight protecting his princess. “Pay for what? It’s just a piece of clothing. Freya won’t hold this against you.” He turned to me, his tone commanding and dismissive. “Since this one is ruined, just throw it away. Go pick a more expensive one, and I’ll pay for it.” With that, he pulled out his phone and Venmoed me fifteen thousand dollars. The notification chimed loudly in the quiet boutique, sounding incredibly mocking. I looked down at the transaction on my screen, finding the whole situation absolutely ridiculous. Three months of artisan handwork, my months of excitement… to him, it was just trash that could be replaced with a quick Venmo transfer. “No need. This one is fine.” Without even entering the fitting room, I turned around and walked out the door. “Freya! What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? I said I’d buy you a new one! When are you going to stop being so dramatic?” Ethan yelled from behind. I ignored him, pushed open the door, and walked out. Standing in the cold autumn wind, I pulled out my phone and called my sales rep at the Porsche dealership. “Hey Marcus, that Macan I ordered… if I transfer the lease to someone else right now, can we close the deal today? Yes, original price. I’ll pay the transfer fees. Just make it quick.” I hung up and glanced back at the boutique’s glass window. Ethan was holding a tissue, gently wiping away Chloe’s tears. I let out a cold laugh, hailed a cab, and drove away.

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The last time I called Mom, I had not eaten anything for seven days. When I was five, Mom and Dad adopted a girl from a remote fishing village. From that day on, she slept in my room, wore my dresses, and called my mom and dad hers. And I was sent back to the fishing village where she had grown up. I lived with her grandmother, who had Alzheimer’s. Mom said: “She suffered too much growing up.” “You’ve never suffered before, so you should get a taste of it too.” Before I left, Dad ordered me to take good care of the confused grandmother and watch the house and yard. After Grandma threw my food to the dog again, I finally could not take it anymore and called Mom to ask for something to eat. She was terribly annoyed. “How come Clara can endure hardship, but you can’t?” “The sea is all around you, so if you’re hungry, go catch fish in the water!” I obediently listened and went into the sea to catch fish. But while I was swimming in the sea to catch fish, a fisherman mistook me for a big fish and speared me to death. It was not until three years later that Mom came to pick me up. “Anna, I’m here to take you home.”

There was a pile of bones in the center of the room, and a rusty fishing spear lay on top of it. She kicked it without the slightest concern. The window glass was shattered, and the sea wind poured in. The excrement of the grandmother with Alzheimer’s was everywhere. Grandma was curled up in a pile of tattered bedding, dazed, drool constantly running from her mouth. Mom, Sophia, frowned, covered her nose, waved at the foul smell in the air, and could not help complaining: “Why is this place like a dump? Don’t you know how to clean?” “Anna! Get out here and clean this up!” Sophia looked around, and her voice calling my name grew louder and louder. I happily threw myself at her, but I hugged nothing, passing through her body like air. I forgot again. I had died three years ago. After hoping and waiting so long, I had finally waited until Mom came back. She was carrying cookies and cake, and I was so greedy that I almost drooled. I felt happy inside, thinking Mom still had me in her heart, and she had finally come to take me home. I jumped around beside her happily: “Mom, I’m here, I’m right here.” Her phone rang, and unable to stand the stench in the house, she went outside to answer it. I immediately followed her. “Baby, be good. Mom will be back soon. I’m picking up your sister.” “Mom bought you your favorite cookies and cake, all the things you love.” “Okay, okay, I’ll be back in a little while, and tonight Mom will hold you while you sleep.” I froze, and my excited heart instantly turned icy cold, as if a basin of cold water had been poured over it. So those cookies and cakes were bought for my younger sister. I waved my arms in grievance and roared at her: “I’m your biological daughter, so why don’t you love me?” “I was clearly more obedient than my adopted sister, so if you didn’t like me, why did you give birth to me?” She could not hear anything and turned back into the house with a disgusted look on her face. “Mom! Where is Anna? What’s going on? I’ve been calling for so long, and there’s no response!” Her tone began to grow impatient, and she raised her hand to check the expensive watch on her wrist, clearly anxious to hurry back. I squatted on the ground, like the year I had almost starved to death, too powerless to hate. For someone who does not love you, even overwhelming love is like punching cotton. So my adopted sister was already this old, and Mom would still hold her while she slept. But when I was five, after they adopted my sister and brought her home, I was sent to the fishing village and made to sleep with the grandmother who had Alzheimer’s. When Grandma’s illness acted up, she was like a violent thug and would beat me until I was covered in bruises. I cried so hard that snot bubbled from my nose as I clung to Sophia’s leg and begged bitterly: “Mom, please, take me home. I don’t want to stay here.” She frowned, her whole face saying I was being spoiled: “You’re the older sister, so you need to be sensible. Your sister just came to our home, and everything is unfamiliar to her, so she needs more care.” “Don’t be naughty and provoke Grandma, and she won’t hit you. Clara’s grandmother is sick, and Clara endured it all, so you can too.” She always said I could do it too, so I had to shoulder so many things that a child my age should never have had to bear. From then on, I never knew again what Mom’s bed or Mom’s embrace smelled like. “Anna, Anna catching bugs, a whole bunch, dead child…” Grandma was not clear-headed, and she could not recognize my mom as she slowly muttered to herself. My mom stopped looking for me and stared at the ruined house in disgust, nagging: “She’s still as naughty as she was when she was little! Not quiet and graceful like Clara at all.” “What kind of girl catches bugs? She made the room dirtier than a doghouse.” “She’s such a big girl now, but she has no sense of hygiene at all!” “And she’s always trying to come home with me. With how sloppy she is, she really has been spoiled rotten by me…” She let out a heavy sigh. It was full of disappointment in me. My heart felt as if a hole had been torn through it, and the pain made even my soul tremble. But Mom, I caught bugs because there was nothing to eat at home. Grandma and I were so hungry that we were weak, and we really could not get any thinner, so I caught bugs. I was so scared that I wailed, but I still did not dare let go. To fight birds for bugs, I climbed very high up trees and often fell down. Even if I managed to catch a bug and roast it, I could not bear to eat it myself. Instead, I saved it for Grandma, and only after Grandma was full could I eat. But Grandma was never full, and she even got so hungry that she bit a chunk of flesh from my leg. Even after becoming a ghost, the spot where that piece of flesh was bitten away from my leg was still hollow. Many families in the fishing village had moved away, and now only Grandma remained in this broken-down house. After I went into the sea to catch fish and was speared to death by a fisherman, the former village chief thought my parents had picked me up. Seeing how pitiful Grandma was, he would deliver food every week, and sometimes once every two weeks. That was how Grandma survived.

Sophia could not bear the foul smell and retched in nausea for a while. She really could not stay any longer, so she hurriedly opened her exquisite Louis Vuitton bag, took out five hundred dollars, and placed it on the trash-covered table. There was a plate of fat dead bugs on the table, already covered in mold and giving off waves of stench. Sophia ran outside in disgust and threw up for a long time. “Anna, dead child, dead child, give me bugs… big fat bugs…” Grandma chased after her, barefoot, hunched over, dirty and disheveled, like a madwoman. Before she even got close, that thick stench filled the air. My mom reached out to stop her. “Don’t come over here. You stink!” “I put five hundred dollars in living expenses on the table for you and Anna, so tell her to spend it carefully.” “I’ll come see her again next time.” My soul followed them outside too, numb as I watched her disgusted expression. Just as she was about to hurry away, a video call came to her phone, and the contact name was Husband. “I didn’t see Anna. She seems to have gone out to catch bugs. She’s so old, yet still so naughty.” Sophia’s tone was full of disgust as she summarized what she had seen in a few words. I leaned closer and saw Dad in the video. His hair was slicked back and shiny, he wore an expensive suit, and his skin looked good. His whole body gave off the rich air of someone raised by money. The house behind him was bright and exquisitely decorated. My heart felt sour, because this good life had once belonged to me. It was just that after they adopted my sister, Mom and Dad felt that ordinary me was too spoiled, so they sent me here to receive hardship education. I did not dare call them often, afraid they would think I was delicate, and the only time I called was seven days before I starved to death. Maybe after suffering too much pain, nothing could stir up much emotion anymore. I just stood numbly beside Sophia. “Honey, I thought about it, and shouldn’t we bring Anna to the city now?” “Anna is eight, and it’s inconvenient for her to go to school there.” My shattered heart was instantly stitched together a little, and tears of surprise filled my eyes. Mom did not love me, but Dad still cared about me. I stared at Dad and smiled. Even though he could not see me. Sophia let out a deep sigh, and her tone was disappointed, disgusted, and hopeless. She covered her nose and walked into the house, aiming the camera inside: “Look, Anna made the house look like a dump.” “I want to take her back too, but look at how filthy she is. How can we take her?” I felt extremely wronged and said dully: “I’m not filthy.” What could a five-year-old child do? I had been dead for three years, and you still did not know. “Let me see my sister’s house, let me see!” A lively and cheerful voice came through, and a seven-year-old girl with two pretty braids appeared in the video. She was my adopted sister, Clara. She had been raised very well, wearing a beautiful princess dress, her skin tender like a peeled egg. She was confident and lively, like a little princess from a wealthy family. Her smile disappeared when she saw the ruined house in the video, and her disgusted expression was exactly like Sophia’s. “It’s so dirty. Even a dump isn’t this dirty.” “I won’t let her come to our house. Someone this unhygienic will definitely bring lots of germs!” But the fishing village I was in had clearly been her former home. Ethan quickly pulled Clara into his arms and coaxed her: “Okay, okay, we’ll listen to our little princess and not bring your sister here yet.” “We’ll have your sister fix all her hygiene habits, and after she becomes a clean little kid, we’ll bring her here, okay?” Clara pouted proudly and pulled Ethan’s hand to the side: “Let her see my room. When she makes her room as pretty and clean as mine, then you can bring her here.” With a great sense of superiority, Clara showed every corner of her room to the camera. “Mom, let her see what a girl’s room should look like.” “I don’t want a sister who lives in a trash heap.” I stared without blinking at Clara’s room, because it had once been my bedroom. The room was decorated cutely and brightly, and a cabinet of toys and figurines was arranged neatly inside. Her room was very big, connected to a transparent walk-in closet. All kinds of dazzling clothes hung inside. Even the carpet in the room was snowy white and fluffy, like walking on clouds. I just watched, my mind completely blank. My heart, riddled with wounds, could not muster even the slightest strength to hate or resent.

“Your sister is only like this because she’s in the fishing village. Once she comes to the city, she won’t be like this anymore.” “When your sister comes, there’ll be one more person to play with you and one more person to take care of you. Wouldn’t that be great?” Ethan’s words coaxing Clara stabbed into my heart like knives. I hated that sentence with everything I had: you’re the older sister, and you enjoyed good days for many years, so you should give way to your adopted sister and let your adopted sister live a good life. After the video call ended, my mom took a pen and paper from her bag. She wrote a few lines on it: “Anna, Mom will go back for now this time.” “You made the house far too dirty and messy, so Mom will give you one month to clean both the house and yourself.” “One month later, Mom will come to inspect it, and if the hygiene is up to standard, Mom will take you home.” “If it isn’t up to standard, you’ll stay here and continue reforming yourself.” After writing it, she looked at the house not far away and hesitated, then stuffed the note into Grandma’s drafty pocket: “This note is for Anna, so you must make sure she sees it.” “I’ll go back for now this time, and tell Anna I’ll come again in one month.” After saying that, she hurried away without looking back. I watched her back, smiling until I started crying. Grandma stared dazedly at her back for a long time. “Grandma, go back inside. Don’t stay out here in the sun.” The scorching sun made sweat pour from her head, but she stared blankly and did not know to wipe it away. Maybe she was also just lucky, because after getting heatstroke several times, she had managed to survive. “Anna… Anna, catching bugs, playing, dead child, sea, fish.” She began talking nonsense again. I watched helplessly as she was left to fend for herself, just like I had once been. Even though she was not my biological grandmother, I still did not want to watch her fend for herself the way I once had. But I was powerless. I ran into the house and anxiously reached out to clean the room. But my hands could not pick up anything, and I stomped my feet and cried in panic. “I can’t help you anymore. What do I do? What do I do?” But she cheerfully picked up the maggot-infested food from the table and began eating. I cried even louder at the top of my lungs, trying to make her hear my voice. But everything was in vain. One month later, Sophia and Ethan came back together. This time, their hands were empty. I pouted and complained, “What are you coming back for? Only Clara is your precious baby, so don’t come back here and disgust me.” They could not hear anything, but I heard plenty of them complaining that I was sloppy and disobedient. It just so happened that the village chief came to deliver food to Grandma. He knew Grandma could not cook, so he only brought food enough for one day, with meat and vegetables, and the meat was stewed very soft so Grandma could chew it. The rest was water, bread, and other instant food. When the village chief saw my dad, he asked curiously: “Is the Clara you adopted never coming back? Then are you responsible for taking care of her grandmother?” My mom said, “Anna is still here, so we sent her here to train herself a little.” The confusion on the village chief’s face grew deeper. Sophia looked at the room that had not been cleaned at all, covered her nose, and said in disgust again: “Why does this child Anna never change no matter how many times she’s taught? I told her to clean the place up, and then I’d come get her!” “She actually didn’t clean up at all! This child really can make a person furious!” Ethan could not help feeling nauseated either, but in front of others, he held it back. The village chief looked suspicious. “Wasn’t Anna taken to the city by you a few years ago?”

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The night Ethan won the NCAA Championship, he celebrated by kissing the head cheerleader in front of the entire arena. Everyone waited for me to lose my mind. Instead, I was wearing his teammate Logan’s jersey, lying in his bed. Later, I became Logan’s girlfriend. Ethan didn’t realize he’d lost me until it was too late. When he finally saw us together, he crushed a whiskey glass in his bare hand, his eyes red with regret. “Chloe… you were supposed to be mine.” The final buzzer sounded, and the entire ice arena erupted into chaos. Ethan was about to confess his love to that gorgeous cheerleader. He had warned his teammates beforehand, making sure everyone kept me in the dark. What he didn’t know was that some drama-loving bystander had already DM’d me the whole plan on Snapchat. After all, everyone on the varsity hockey team knew I was head over heels for Ethan. My biggest dream was to be his girlfriend. So, the moment Ethan fell in love at first sight and confessed to another girl… I was supposed to rush down to the ice, crying, screaming, and making a total fool of myself. The crowd in the stands was practically drooling, waiting for me to lose my mind and crash the party. Too bad for them. Even after their high-profile kiss ended, I still hadn’t shown up. The crowd outside the rink started to lose interest when no drama happened. Even Ethan’s face didn’t look all that happy. He wrapped his arm around his new girlfriend and pulled out his phone. Not a single call. Not a single text. Ethan frowned slightly. He slid his phone away and held the trophy high above his head. “Tonight, we celebrate! Afterparty at the bar, on me!” The players and students in the arena instantly cheered. I pushed open the glass door of the players’ tunnel and walked out. Someone with sharp eyes spotted me and immediately yelled. “Look, it’s Chloe! Chloe’s here!” “I knew it! There’s no way Chloe could resist coming!” Ethan snapped his head up. The moment he saw me, the corners of his lips twitched into a smug, barely noticeable smirk. I ignored the crowd waiting for a show. With Logan’s jacket barely covering my thighs, I walked straight up to Ethan. “Chloe.” Ethan, still in his full hockey gear, held the trophy in one hand and pulled his new girlfriend tighter with the other. He looked down at me, his voice flat. “You can’t force feelings.” “We’ve known each other for over ten years, and I don’t want to say anything too harsh to ruin our history. We can still be friends.” “If you ever need help, you can still come to me.” Then, he lowered his voice, leaning in: “Everyone is watching. Don’t make a scene. Go home.” “Go home and change. What the hell are you even wearing?” “Ethan.” I cut him off, taking a slow step forward. He frowned again. “Chloe, be reasonable.” I smiled, pulled out my phone, pulled up a billing page, and turned the screen toward him. “This is the money I advanced for your custom hockey sticks and protective gear.” I stared straight into his eyes. “Pay me back. Now.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened as he stared at the screen. “Chloe, what kind of game are you playing now?” “You really will do anything to get my attention, won’t you? Digging up old receipts?” Ethan stared at me, convinced I was just throwing a tantrum. “I don’t care about this pocket change. If you’re that desperate for money, I’ll Venmo you double.” He pulled out his phone. “No need for double. Just the original amount is fine.” “I’m blocking you after this.” “From now on, your new girlfriend can handle all your annoying chores.” With that, I didn’t give him another glance. I turned around and walked away.

Ethan stood frozen on the ice until my figure vanished from sight. His face was still incredibly tense. His teammates quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Man, Chloe is just trying to save face. Don’t take it seriously.” “Trust me, Ethan, she’ll regret this before the night is over.” “She’ll probably come crawling back to you crying tonight.” Ethan let out a cold laugh. “Let her play her games.” “If we hadn’t grown up together, I wouldn’t have tolerated her for this long.” “Alright, alright, don’t let her ruin the mood. We won the championship tonight, let’s party!” Ethan looked at the hot cheerleader next to him. He quickly threw my annoying face to the back of his mind. He knew that by tomorrow’s training session, I would show up like nothing had happened. I would be sitting in the very front row. Holding water and a towel, waiting like a puppy for him to finish practice. He had seen this exact script play out way too many times over the years. By the time I walked out of the arena, the rain was pouring. I stood under my umbrella, thinking about the terrifying nightmares I had been having lately. In those dreams, because Ethan confessed to Brianna… I threw a massive fit. To force him to break up with her, I ran out onto the highway in the middle of the night. And what happened? I was hit by a speeding SUV. I broke two ribs and almost died. Ethan only stayed at the hospital for five minutes before leaving me. They forced me to drop out of college and sent me back to my alcoholic parents. In the end, I died miserably in a trashy, run-down apartment. And after I died, the one who came to collect my broken body was actually the man I had always avoided and feared. Ethan never showed up. Not once. Over the past few days, everything from those nightmares had started coming true. If it weren’t for those warnings, I would have thrown my umbrella away by now, spam-calling Ethan’s phone, ready to throw another suicidal tantrum on the road. I was so grateful for those dreams. It felt like a second chance at life. I could finally rewrite my miserable fate, step by step. On my third try, the call finally went through. I gripped my phone tightly, pressing it to my ear. The name *Logan Vance* lingered on the tip of my tongue before I slowly spoke it aloud. The heavy rain drowned out the noise of the world. Through the receiver, Logan’s deep, slightly tired voice came through. “Chloe?” “Logan, it’s raining so hard.” “I’m stuck outside the arena. Can you come pick me up?”

The other end went dead silent for a few seconds. I gripped the umbrella handle so hard my palm began to sweat. In my dream, when Logan collected my body, he cried. A man who was absolutely ruthless on the ice rink had cried like a baby for the first time. Later, he changed his jersey number to my birthday, stepped over Ethan, and climbed to the absolute peak of the professional league. My eyes welled up with tears, and a small sob escaped my throat. “Why are you crying?” Logan’s voice suddenly cut through. It was still cold, even slightly impatient. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t come.” “When will you be here?” “Wait there. Twenty minutes.” “Okay. I’ll wait for you, Logan.” He didn’t say another word and hung up. By the time Logan arrived, I was completely soaked. He got out of the car, his thin lips pressed into a tight line, his expression icy. I brushed away my wet bangs and looked up at him with a bright smile. “Logan, you’re so on time.” “Chloe, are you trying to get yourself killed by being this stupid?” With a tense face, he grabbed my arm, shoved me into the passenger seat, and tossed a soft blanket over me. “Dry yourself off. Don’t ruin my car.” He glanced at me through the rearview mirror and smoothly put the car in drive. “Oh.” I wrapped myself tightly in the blanket like a good girl. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him while he focused on the road. When he had no expression, he always looked incredibly distant and intimidating. Plenty of girls at school liked him, but none of them dared to confess. He and Ethan were not just roommates; they were rivals on the ice. Back then, I used to go to the locker room every single day to bring Ethan milk. Every time I went, Logan looked like he absolutely loathed me, slamming his locker door shut with an icy glare. Even now, though he came to rescue me, he was still acting so cold. When he shoved me into the car earlier, his grip was so tight. My wrist was still throbbing, leaving a faint red mark. It was impossible to tell that this guy had been secretly in love with me for years. Everything in the dream had happened exactly as predicted. But now, because of my changes, the timeline was shifting. Would Logan still love me? If he didn’t actually like me, wouldn’t my sudden behavior just be a massive annoyance to him? “Back to the dorms?” Logan suddenly turned his head to glance at me. My heart skipped a beat, and before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. “No. To your place.” Logan gripped the steering wheel, letting out a mocking chuckle. “Ethan’s having a huge championship party tonight.” “Are you trying to use me to make him jealous?” I gripped the edge of the blanket, twisting it tighter and tighter. “I’m not.” The car suddenly screeched to a halt by the curb. Logan turned his body toward me, the coldness in his eyes making my chest tighten. “Chloe, don’t bring me into whatever sick game you’re playing with him.” “I’m not…” He stared at me for a long second, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll call you an Uber. Go back yourself.” “Logan…” I bit my lip hard, reaching over to snatch his phone away. He stared at me, but his eyes didn’t hold anger or disgust. Instead, they were incredibly dark, swirling with emotions he was trying to hide. Suddenly, a wave of sadness washed over me. “Logan, I don’t want to go back to the dorms. Everyone is laughing at me.” “And I’m scared to go home.” “Can you… can you just let me stay at your off-campus apartment for tonight?” I hid his phone behind my back, my voice growing softer and softer. “I won’t bother you. I’m just… my clothes are completely soaked.” The moment I finished speaking, tears rolled down my cheeks. One by one, silent and heavy. Logan didn’t say another word to me. But he started the car again. He drove toward his apartment.

I followed Logan into his apartment. He walked over to his closet, pulled out a clean training jersey, and tossed it to me. “Bathroom’s over there.” He was tall, so his jersey was massive on me. It barely covered my thighs. After my shower, I threw the jersey on and walked out. Logan took one look at me and immediately averted his eyes. I walked over to his bed and sat down. My damp, long hair dripped, quickly wetting his sheets. I smelled completely like Logan now—his shampoo, his body wash. In this small, enclosed space, a thick, unspoken tension began to brew. Logan grabbed his pack of cigarettes and cleared his throat. “I’m going out for a smoke.” He walked out onto the balcony. I looked around his room with curiosity. Light gray sheets, neat and clean. A black gear bag sat half-open in the corner. Just as I was about to look at the trinkets on his desk, my phone suddenly rang. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen. I didn’t pick up. He immediately called again. I had blocked him on Snapchat, but I had forgotten to block his actual number. I quickly blocked his number too and threw my phone back into my bag. “Logan.” I called out toward the balcony. He quickly turned around, stubbed out his cigarette, and walked back in. “What?” I sat on the bed, having to tilt my head up to look at him. Logan locked eyes with me for two seconds before looking away again. But I noticed the tips of his ears were turning a faint shade of red. “I got your bed wet. What should I do?” He glanced at me, then down at the oversized jersey clinging to my damp body. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. He turned around and grabbed a towel, tossing it to me. “Dry it. It’ll be fine.” With that, he turned to grab the hairdryer from the living room. I held the towel, thinking about how his ears had just flushed, and couldn’t help but smile. “Can you dry it for me? My hands are tired.” He stared at me for a few seconds, eventually giving in. With one hand holding the hairdryer, he gently pulled at my collar to reach my back. The jersey’s collar was already too wide. As he pulled, the fabric slid down, exposing a large portion of my bare shoulder. I clearly felt Logan freeze. “Where are you going?” He pulled back his chair, not even turning around. “To the gym room to work out.” “Oh.” I sat on his bed, feeling a bit let down. Logan grabbed his headphones, but before he could put them on, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, shot me a look, and pressed answer. “Ethan. What’s up?” My chest tightened, and I subconsciously held my breath. “Yeah, I’m at my apartment.” “You said someone saw Chloe coming here?” Logan turned around to look at me again. “I—” Before he could finish, I jumped off the bed. I strode over, climbed onto his lap, and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. As Logan tried to push me away, I pressed my lips against his ear. “Logan, tell him I’m not here.” My body was pressed flush against his chest. In an instant, Logan’s body heat flared, burning hot. I could see the veins on his neck bulging slightly. His Adam’s apple rolled violently, and his heart was hammering against his ribs. I looked up at him, and he stared down at me. Deep in his eyes, a dark, heavy desire began to pool. “No, they saw wrong.” “She’s not my girlfriend. We aren’t close.” Logan spoke into the phone and hung up immediately. He tossed the phone aside, his long fingers gripping my waist tightly through the thin jersey. He pulled me flush against him. I could feel the hard, heat of his body. My mind went completely blank, and my first instinct was to pull away. But Logan only held me tighter. “Chloe.” His voice was incredibly husky. His hot breath fanned over my ear and neck. I shrank back, trying to dodge, but his lips slammed down onto mine. “Don’t tease me… unless you want to regret it.”

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I accidentally cast the spicy photo I sent my online boyfriend onto the conference room screen. Even worse, I realized my clingy online boyfriend—the one who calls me “Mistress,” begs for cuddles, and worships the ground I walk on, is actually my ice-cold CEO, Ethan Vance. By day, he humiliates me in front of the entire office. By night, he Venmos me five thousand dollars and begs me to marry him. Then our Snapchat chat popped up on the big screen. In front of the entire company. 0 “Oh…” Someone in the room gasped loudly. Ethan slowly turned around, his gaze shifting toward the screen. Panicking, I frantically disconnected the screencast with trembling fingers, forcing a deeply awkward smile. “Sorry… my bad. Wrong button.” My face was burning hot. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that my cold-blooded, heartless boss was the very same online boyfriend who cried and begged me to call him a good boy on Snapchat! Just ten minutes ago, he had humiliated me in front of the entire department, calling the fourth draft of my proposal a piece of trash. But now that I knew I was his “Mistress”… he definitely wouldn’t reject my pitch next time! I was saved! Oh my god, yes! My career actually had hope! I sat up straight, trying to look professional. A second later. He sent a flurry of messages: [Babe, I’m in a meeting right now.] [I’ll whine for you as soon as I get home~] [PayPal Transfer: $5,000] My heart stopped. Before I could even hide the stupid grin on my face, Ethan’s sharp, cold voice cut through the air. “Chloe! What on earth are you smiling at?” I jumped, startled. I quickly looked up and met Ethan’s icy, razor-sharp gaze. He looked absolutely furious, glaring at me with zero intention of saving my pride. “When you joined this company, you had no impressive portfolio, nor any outstanding achievements. I finally gave you a chance.” “And what do I get?” “Your proposal is a total mess, you stay completely silent during meetings, and now you’re playing on your phone!” “Do you even want to keep your job?” Oh, no. I was in deep, deep trouble. My heart was pounding in my chest. Everyone else in the room held their breath, all eyes locked on me. Some looked at me with pity, some with confusion, and others were just glad they weren’t the ones getting scolded. I had always been a straight-A student, growing up with praise from teachers and admiration from classmates. But ever since I became Ethan’s assistant, getting chewed out by him had become my weekly routine. My face burned with humiliation. Tears welled up in my eyes. But online… Ethan was always so sweet to me. He would call me his queen, begging for hugs and kisses… I tried to explain myself, my voice trembling with emotion. “I… I was just texting my boyfriend… My boyfriend is actually—” “Nobody cares who you’re texting,” Ethan cut me off coldly. “If there’s a next time, you don’t need to stay on my team.” Ethan was the CEO, and my direct boss. I knew that in this company, no one would dare hire someone he threw out. If he kicked me out, I would be packing my bags and leaving the industry for good. The blood ran cold in my veins. It took me a long time to squeeze out a raspy reply. “Understood… It won’t happen again.” 0

The moment we walked out of the conference room, my colleague Mia grabbed my arm, her face full of worry. “Chloe, are you insane? Texting during his meeting is one thing, but casting it to the big screen?! Thank god the Ice King didn’t see the text, or you’d be a goner!” I let out a weak, embarrassed laugh. “Yeah… slip of the finger.” When I first realized Ethan was my online boyfriend, I was ecstatic. But thinking about it now… it was incredibly creepy. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, then lowered my voice. “Hey, Mia… do you think someone like Mr. Reed would ever do online dating?” Mia blinked, then burst out laughing. “Mr. Reed? The legendary office tyrant? The man is basically celibate.” She leaned in closer to my ear. “Rumor has it he has some… issues down there. How could he do online dating?” Her expression suddenly changed, and she looked at me suspiciously. “Wait, you’re not thinking of seducing him to save your job, are you?” “Girl, it’s just a proposal. Don’t sacrifice your soul for it.” “The Ice King already dislikes you. If you push his buttons, he will fire you on the spot.” My heart did a violent flip. I had thought I hit the jackpot with Ethan. But from Ethan’s perspective, if he found out, it would look like I was blackmailing him. After all, I made him call me “Mistress” and forced him to send me abs pics. Just imagine if I had cast his abs to the screen during the meeting! Oh my god, the sheer embarrassment. It would be my social death. I could never let Ethan know that I was his online Mistress! I forced myself to sound calm. “I was just curious. I’d never do that.” Only then did Mia let out a sigh of relief. Shortly after I got back to my apartment, my phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat message from Ethan. [Babe, I’m free now. Want me to make those sweet sounds for you?] Ah! The thought of Ethan—who was always so stiff, formal, and buttoned-up to his neck at the office—lying on his bed and begging for my attention made my brain short-circuit. The contrast was too wild. And he was my boss! I didn’t dare to play along anymore. Me: [No need.] [Ethan got anxious immediately: [Why?] [Am I not attractive to you anymore?] [Or are you mad because I didn’t reply to your thigh pic right away?] [No wonder you didn’t accept my PayPal transfer.] [Babe, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, just give me a chance to show you how much I want you.] Then, a FaceTime call popped up. My heart raced to the rhythm of the ringtone. Maybe it was because Ethan had been so brutal to me today, but seeing him beg so desperately online gave me a sudden rush of satisfaction. In fact, I wanted to mess with him a little. I wanted to humble him, and then dump him. But then I looked at the pending $5,000 transfer… …Fine. Let’s keep this going. But I was definitely going to tease him. I accepted the FaceTime call. As usual, we both kept our cameras angled down, keeping our faces out of the frame. “Babe, are you still mad at me?” His deep, husky voice echoed through my speakers. I had never made the connection before, but listening closely now, it was undeniably Ethan’s voice. Terrified he would recognize mine, I quickly typed: [I’m not mad, baby. Go ahead, I’m watching. Ethan let out a relieved sigh. His tone turned playful and eager. “Okay. Here I go.” 0

I stared at the screen, unable to look away. On the screen, Ethan unbuckled his belt, slowly putting on a silver waist chain… Oh my god! I let out a gasp and threw my phone onto the bed. Even though I talked a big game online and loved watching hot videos to decompress, this was my first time seeing a man’s… well, *that*. And it belonged to Ethan Reed! It was too much to handle. Ethan’s voice sounded frantic. “Babe? What’s wrong?” “Did I… did I scare you?” I patted my burning cheeks. I hung up the FaceTime call and texted him: [Are you mutated or something?] Ethan: [?] Me: [Even the romance novel male leads aren’t that… huge.] Ethan: [What?] Me: [It’s a compliment.] Ethan: [I’m just worried you won’t be able to handle me.] This pervert… My face flushed even hotter. [I definitely can’t.] [Besides, I like pink. Freshness.] [Maybe I should find a younger guy.] Ethan was thirty. This was the ultimate low blow for him. As expected, Ethan immediately sent a video to prove himself. The video showed a perfect, toned body. His abs were deeply defined from years of working out. What caught my eye was a silver body chain wrapped around his chest and waist. The chest chain rested perfectly on his firm pecs, and the waist chain hugged his hips as he breathed. It was incredibly hot. Then came a voice note. His voice was dangerously low. “Babe… don’t find someone else.” “What do young guys even know?” “Look, I put on the chest and waist chains you wanted to see last time.” “And the size… I promise you’ll love it.” “Mistress, please don’t leave me.” My breath hitched. I quickly made an excuse about my work. [I have to go. Need to fix my project pitch.] Ethan panicked: [Mistress, is there anything I can do to help?] Oh, he could definitely help. [My boss called my proposal absolute garbage. I have to rewrite the whole thing.] Ethan got angry: [He has zero taste. Sounds like a total idiot leader.] He was literally insulting himself. I burst out laughing. [Tell me who he is, babe. I’ll ruin his career for you.] Oh, please do. Go ruin yourself. 0

Ethan and I met on a chat app. At the time, I had moved out of my parents’ house to escape their constant nagging about marriage. But finding a job was tough. My bank account was draining fast, and I was about to miss rent. I was desperate for cash. When I realized Ethan was incredibly needy and filthy rich, I started playing hard to get. I’d ignore his texts for days, telling him I was too busy looking for jobs. To buy my time, Ethan started sending me money. I’d play cool: [There are plenty of guys offering me more. Why should I choose you?] Ethan sounded pitiful: [What do you want from me?] Me: [I want a loyal, obedient puppy. One that whines and calls me Mistress.] It took Ethan a long time to reply. He asked: [Do I need to show some skin?] I smirked. The next second, he sent a video. A shirtless man with a black collar buckled around his neck. “Mistress,” his voice was incredibly low and seductive. “I only show this to my girl. Be mine, and I’ll show you much more.” And just like that, we became online partners. But to me, it was just a side hustle. To protect myself, we agreed to never share faces or real names. But who would have thought he was Ethan Reed? 0

I texted back, pretending to complain: [I’m just worried you’ll show me something ugly.] [Don’t bother me today, or I’ll block you.] Ethan immediately went quiet. I accepted his transfer and put my phone away. But the moment midnight struck, Ethan, like a clockwork puppy, sent a voice note. “Babe, are you asleep?” “What else do you want to see? I can show you right now.” “Please don’t ignore me.” “Can I marry you? Please?” “Mistress, I beg you, just reply to me…” Working late to fix the proposal, I was initially filled with annoyance. But hearing Ethan practically crying, begging to marry me… My heart melted. My frustration evaporated. I texted: [Do you really want to marry me?] Ethan’s voice was raspy but incredibly firm: “I do.” “Even though we’ve never met.” “These past two years with you have been the happiest times of my life.” “Let’s meet up, babe.” “Let’s get married. Let me take care of you for the rest of my life.” My ears burned. My heart softened completely. Even though Ethan was a toxic jerk at work, considering his face, his wealth… and how incredibly clingy he was… This was actually a fantastic deal. I smiled and replied: [Okay, I got it.] But I needed to get this stupid proposal approved first before our big reveal. Ethan was overjoyed. The next morning, I walked into Ethan’s office with my fifth draft. Ethan frowned at his screen. “Are you sure this isn’t the exact same draft from yesterday’s meeting?” My heart stopped. I leaned in to look. No way. I stayed up until 3 AM for this! Ethan’s face was cold, and the air in the room felt heavy. I nervously played with the hem of my shirt. “…I can… go back and adjust the details?” But honestly, I was out of ideas. Ethan glanced at me. “No need.” I blinked, surprised. Was he really letting me off the hook so easily? Did my sweet texts last night put him in a good mood? But before I could celebrate, Ethan poured a bucket of ice water over my head. “Rewrite it from scratch.” He sneered, his voice freezing cold. “If you bring me this kind of garbage again, you can walk out of my team yourself.” My brain went numb. He was literally firing me. What about my rent?! He had promised to protect me last night, and now he was the one driving me insane! I couldn’t take it anymore. I slammed my hands on his desk and yelled, “Ethan Reed! Are you seriously going to fire your own wife?!” Ethan froze, snapping his head up to glare at me.

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1 Woke at night with severe cramps, I messaged our group chat for help before passing out. When pings woke me, my boyfriend Julian and best friend Clara had swapped over a hundred messages. My plea for ibuprofen lay ignored at the bottom. They chatted wildly, debating the World Cup, griping about work, planning a Northern Lights trip. Curled under my duvet, I scrolled up. Last month, I’d cried here about my boss throwing coffee on me. No reply. But when Clara posted a puppy video, Julian blew up the chat. Last weekend, I asked about lunch. They debated games until 3 AM, ignoring me. Suddenly, I recalled Julian’s words creating this chat: “Great, right? Those who love you most sharing your joy and pain.” Notifications kept popping. I tapped “Leave Group.” They never cared. I was done with a life where my voice only echoed in emptiness. … When the sky began to turn a bruised gray, the pain woke me up again. My phone was completely dead silent. Not a single private message from either of them. I leaned heavily against the wall, dragging myself to the bathroom. The face looking back at me in the mirror was terrifyingly pale. Right after I splashed freezing water on my face, Julian called. “Wake up, lazybones. Come downstairs, we’re going to be late for work.” I grabbed a random sweater, threw it on, and stumbled down the stairs, my legs feeling like jelly. Julian rolled down the window of his sedan. Clara was already sitting in the passenger seat, aggressively typing on her laptop balanced on the dashboard. I pulled open the back door and shivered violently as the blasting AC hit my cold sweat. “What took you so long? The newsroom is swamped today.” Julian put the car in drive while Clara turned around, handing me an iced Americano. “Thanks for suffering through this early commute with us every day, Chloe!” I hesitated for a second, then quietly set the iced coffee down in the cupholder. Ever since the incident where my boss humiliated me by throwing coffee on my shirt, I hadn’t been able to drink it. But they weren’t there to see it happen, and they clearly didn’t care to remember. During the drive, Clara continued typing furiously while bantering back and forth with Julian. I sat alone in the backseat, pressing my burning forehead against the freezing glass window just to keep the agonizing cramps at bay. Their voices began to blur into white noise, as if a thick, invisible glass wall had slammed down between the front seats and the back. Clara bounced rapidly from topic to topic, and no matter what she brought up, Julian effortlessly volleyed it back. More and more of their conversation became an inside joke I couldn’t understand. “That Italian place was incredible.” “God, the new editor is such a nightmare.” A sudden thought hit me like a physical blow. When was the last time Julian and I talked like that? I honestly couldn’t remember. Only when we pulled up to the media building did Clara suddenly let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh no! I didn’t finish writing the closing segment!” Julian smoothly backed into a parking space and said casually, “That’s what happens when you stay up all night watching soccer. Just have Chloe finish it for you. She’s just doing desk work today anyway.” Clara’s face lit up. She shoved her laptop directly into my chest and pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture. “You’re the absolute best, Chloe! Please, please, please? I’ll buy you boba later!” “I don’t think I can—” Before I could even finish my sentence, she gave me a lightning-fast hug, spun around, and sprinted toward the glass doors of the building. Julian was right behind her. He pressed a completely absentminded kiss to my forehead and jogged after her. I had watched them walk away like this a hundred times. At first, I was the one who asked Julian to keep an eye on Clara because she was new to the field team. Then, I was the one standing on the sidewalk, watching them drive off together for breaking news coverage. And now, somehow, I had become the ghost they left behind. At noon, right after I emailed Clara the finished segment, a warm boba tea slid across my desk. A coworker sitting nearby let out a sharp whistle. “Well, well. If it isn’t the golden couple of the newsroom, back from the trenches.” Julian shot him a freezing glare. “Watch your mouth.” He leaned against the edge of my cubicle, his long fingers naturally reaching out to massage my temples. “Is it that time of the month? You looked like you were going to pass out this morning.” I gave a weak nod and wrapped my cold fingers around the plastic cup. The tea was already ice cold. A memory from our first year together suddenly flashed through my mind. Back then, Julian was constantly traveling for field reports. I texted him one night: My cramps are killing me. Going to sleep early. Less than two hours later, he was pounding on my apartment door, completely drenched in sweat. His arms were overflowing with heating pads, three different kinds of painkillers, and a steaming thermos of ginger tea he had somehow managed to brew on the way. That winter was brutally cold, but the heat radiating from his palms made me feel entirely safe. Before I could fully process the memory, Julian pulled his hands away. He was staring at his phone, typing a rapid response to someone. He finished his text, glanced down at me, and frowned. “Why are you wearing a giant hoodie today?” “Didn’t I mention in the group chat yesterday that we’re having dinner with the station director tonight? You can’t wear sweatpants to that.” I blinked at him. So he genuinely hadn’t noticed that I had left the group chat. “I left the group chat. If it’s about work, just message me on Slack.” The casual smile instantly vanished from Julian’s face. He let out a heavy, patronizing sigh. “Seriously? Why? Because you’re on your period and the notifications are annoying you?” “If you’re in a bad mood, take it out on me. Block my number if you have to. Don’t throw a tantrum and leave the group chat. Clara is your best friend. Do you know how hurt she’s going to be when she sees that?” His phone pinged loudly. He glanced at the screen, immediately turned on his heel, and started walking away, tossing a frustrated sentence over his shoulder. “Whatever. If you’re sick, just stay at your desk. Clara and I are going to lunch. I’m adding you back to the chat later, and you are not allowed to leave again. Understood?” I sat silently in my rolling chair, the agonizing cramps twisting my stomach into tight knots. I dry-swallowed the ibuprofen I had Postmated for myself and dropped the freezing boba tea straight into the trash can. Then, I clicked open a half-finished Word document on my desktop. Application for Overseas Correspondent. My phone started buzzing relentlessly. When I finally packed up to leave, the group chat had over 99 unread messages. The very last one was from Julian, specifically tagging me. [Clara told me about those psychotic business owners targeting female reporters lately. I don’t feel safe letting you live alone right now. I’m packing a bag and moving into your apartment tonight.] I had literally sent them a news alert about that exact same stalker situation three days ago in this very chat. But they had been too busy debating the plot of a Marvel movie to acknowledge it. I typed a quick, [No need,] locked my screen, and climbed into the back of my Uber. After staring at the passing traffic for a minute, I unlocked my phone and added one last sentence. [I applied for the overseas correspondent position today. I might be leaving the country soon.] I hit send. Not a single new message popped up. Watching the blurry city lights streak past the window, I suddenly thought about my first year at the station. We were all rookies back then. Julian and Clara were assigned to the chaotic field team, and I was the quiet copy editor working behind the scenes. Every time Julian came back from a grueling shoot, he brought me a hot chocolate. Every time Clara struggled with an opening hook, she would roll her chair over to my desk and ask me how to inject more emotion into the script. When the three of us won our very first industry journalism award, Julian picked me up and spun me around while laughing hysterically. Clara shoved the heavy glass trophy directly into my hands. She promised we were going to conquer the entire media world together. We did conquer it. Only, they were the ones standing in the spotlight, and I was just the shadow. When the Uber dropped me off, I looked up and saw the lights in my apartment were on. I assumed I had been in such a rush this morning that I forgot to hit the switch. But when I unlocked the front door, I froze. A massive suitcase was splayed open in the middle of my living room, with men’s clothes thrown haphazardly all over my clean sofa. There was the sound of chopping coming from the kitchen. Julian poked his head out, holding a spatula. “You’re back? The soup is almost done.” Clara walked out right behind him, carrying a plate of appetizers, a bright, excited smile plastered across her face. “Chloe, you’re finally home! Julian said you guys were officially moving in together, so I bought a bunch of groceries to celebrate. Surprise!” I stood paralyzed in the entryway, feeling like I had walked into an absurd sitcom. But Clara had already spun back into the kitchen, leaning over the stove next to Julian. “Don’t add the green onions to the soup. Chloe hates them.” “It’s fine, she can just pick them out. I love green onions.” “Let’s simmer it for another ten minutes, the meat isn’t tender enough yet.” “Alright, whatever you say, chef.” The two of them bounced off each other with effortless chemistry, looking exactly like a pair of ridiculously in-love newlyweds. It made me feel like an absolute stranger intruding in my own home. That familiar, suffocating wave of exhaustion crashed over me. I didn’t even bother taking my shoes off. I walked straight to the kitchen doorway. “I never agreed to let you move in.” Julian turned around, his eyes wide with genuine confusion. “What is your problem now?” “My problem is that this is my apartment. Who gave you permission to come inside?” The air in the room instantly turned to ice. Clara rushed over, reaching out to grab my arm, but I smoothly stepped back to avoid her touch. She nervously glanced at Julian’s dark expression before frantically trying to explain. “Chloe, please don’t be mad. Julian was just terrified that you were living alone with that stalker on the loose. If I knew you were going to be this upset, I never would have let him come over.” CLANG. Julian slammed the heavy metal spatula into the cast-iron skillet. “Chloe, are you done throwing your little tantrum?” “I am bending over backwards out of pure concern for your safety, moving all my stuff here just to protect you, and this is the attitude I get?” Julian’s face twisted into a mask of pure, ugly frustration. “What the hell has been wrong with you lately? You’re constantly snapping at everyone, you act like a child and leave the group chat, and now you’re kicking us out of your house? Clara is your best friend. I am your boyfriend. Do you really think we’re trying to ruin your life?” “Julian, please stop yelling. Chloe is just having a bad week because of her period, you know how it gets.” I stood there, watching them play their perfectly choreographed good-cop-bad-cop routine, and I felt so unbelievably tired. Tired beyond the 14-hour editing shifts. Tired beyond the agonizing cramps. I didn’t scream at him like I would have a year ago. I just calmly pointed my finger toward the front door. “We are breaking up. Get out of my house right now.” Clara took a step forward, trying to grab my hand, but Julian viciously yanked her back by her wrist. “Don’t even bother with her, Clara. She’s acting like a rabid dog right now.” By the time I finished throwing his clothes into his suitcase and scrubbing their mess out of my kitchen, it was 2 AM. The next morning, I walked into the main conference room for the overseas correspondent selection. The first thing I saw was Julian leaning over the table, aggressively pointing at something on Clara’s script. When they noticed me, they both froze. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” I pulled out a chair in the very back row and sat down, keeping my eyes locked on the whiteboard. “I sent a message in the group chat yesterday.” The silence that followed was incredibly uncomfortable. Julian cleared his throat awkwardly, then immediately turned his back to me and went back to whispering with Clara. Clara mumbled something in response and refused to look in my direction. The selection process began. When it was Clara’s turn to present, Julian actually gave her a thumbs-up from the front row. She hadn’t even read two sentences before I narrowed my eyes. The script she was holding was the rough draft I had ghostwritten for her yesterday. And it was painfully obvious she hadn’t bothered to read it beforehand. When she reached the emotional climax of the story, she literally read the director’s notes I had written in parentheses out loud. A wave of hushed, mocking whispers rippled through the audience of seasoned journalists. Before she could awkwardly stumble to the end, Director Vance, the head of the department, slammed his hand on the table, picked up his half-full coffee cup, and hurled the liquid directly at her. “You dare bring this garbage onto my stage? You are a complete embarrassment to this network!” Seeing the dark coffee stains splattered across Clara’s pristine white blouse, my instinct kicked in. I reached for the zipper of my jacket, preparing to run up there and cover her. But Julian was much faster. He vaulted onto the stage, throwing his body in front of Clara like a human shield. “Director, even if her script was flawed, you have absolutely no right to throw coffee at your staff.” My fingers locked in a death grip around the fabric of my jacket. The last time the Director publicly humiliated someone by throwing coffee, it was me. I had cried in our group chat about it for hours. Neither of them even asked if I was okay. Julian’s eyes pierced through the crowd and locked directly onto mine. His look was an aggressive, unmistakable command. The message was crystal clear: Stand up. Take the blame for her. This wasn’t the first time he demanded this. Whenever Clara mispronounced a foreign dignitary’s name on live television, I was the one who marched into the control room and claimed I had printed the phonetic spelling wrong on the teleprompter. Julian always justified it by saying, You work behind a desk, Chloe. It doesn’t affect your career. Clara is the face of the network. But this time, staring straight into his demanding eyes, I slowly shook my head. Julian opened his mouth to bark an order, but Clara suddenly buried her face in her hands and sprinted out of the conference room sobbing. He shot me a look of pure, venomous disgust and chased after her without a second thought. The rest of the room turned to stare at me. Some eyes were curious, some were judging, and some were hiding malicious smirks. The moderator quickly restored order, and the presentations continued. The second I stepped out of the conference room after my presentation, Julian aggressively grabbed my arm and dragged me into the stairwell. Clara was standing against the concrete wall, shivering, wearing his oversized blazer. Her eyes were swollen red. Julian’s voice trembled with barely contained fury. “Are you happy now, Chloe?” “It’s just an overseas assignment! Was it really necessary to sit there and watch her get publicly humiliated? We have been friends for years, and you just threw her to the wolves without blinking.” I let out a sharp, cold laugh and looked him dead in the eyes. “She used a script I wrote. She didn’t bother to read the notes. Why the hell should I take the bullet for her incompetence?” “Because she doesn’t know how to write that kind of copy!” Julian’s voice echoed violently off the concrete walls. “You know scriptwriting is her weak spot! Why didn’t you sit down and review it with her before she went up there?” He stepped directly into my personal space, grabbing my wrist again, trying to physically pull me toward the director’s office. “You are going to walk in there right now, tell Vance you are withdrawing your application, and give the spot to Clara.” I almost laughed out loud. “On what grounds?” “Because she needs it ten times more than you do!” Julian glared down at me, speaking as if he were explaining basic math to a toddler. “Do you have any idea how psychotic that stalker is right now? Clara is a female reporter out on the streets every single day. She is terrified for her life. You get to sit in a secure office behind a desk. Why are you trying to steal her only ticket out of the city?” “Julian, please stop.” Clara weakly tugged on his sleeve, then turned to me, forcing a pathetic, trembling smile. “Chloe, please don’t be mad at him. He’s just stressed.” She reached out and tried to loop her arm through mine, exactly like she used to do when we were college freshmen. “It’s fine, it’s totally fine. It was my fault for not prepping enough. I don’t blame you.” “Let’s just go. We can ride in Julian’s car, I’ll drop you off at your place, and you guys can talk this out. No more fighting, okay?” I ripped my arm out of her grip, feeling incredibly disgusted by the stranger standing in front of me. This was the same Clara who used to passionately defend me, screaming at Julian for prioritizing his job over my feelings. I didn’t even acknowledge them. I turned my back and walked straight toward the elevators. A heavy hand slammed against the elevator doors just as they were closing. Julian shoved his way inside. Clara practically dragged me by my coat into the parking garage. “Chloe, stop making a scene. We can talk about this when we get to the car.” But the moment we reached Julian’s sedan, Clara smoothly opened the back door for me, then confidently slid into the passenger seat. Julian glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his brow deeply furrowed, but he kept his mouth shut. Seconds later, both of their phone screens lit up. I watched their thumbs fly across the keyboards, followed by a secretive, knowing glance shared between the front seats. I leaned my head against the cold glass and completely shut them out. The car was speeding down a narrow alleyway toward Clara’s apartment building when a black SUV suddenly aggressively swerved, blocking the entire road. Julian slammed on the brakes. My head violently slammed into the back of Clara’s seat. My vision exploded into a dizzying blur of white stars. A split second later, a massive brick shattered the windshield. “Get out of the car, you parasitic scumbags!” Three large men wielding steel pipes started marching toward the sedan. Julian didn’t hesitate for a microsecond. He kicked his door open, grabbed Clara by the waist, and bolted out of the car. I stumbled out of the backseat, my vision swimming, my legs completely numb. But Julian already had his arm wrapped tightly around Clara, sprinting toward the main street with terrifying speed. He frantically flagged down a passing taxi and shoved Clara into the back seat. “Chloe! Clara is the one on television, they recognize her face! I have to get her out of here!” The taxi door slammed shut. One of the men with a pipe lunged forward and grabbed me violently by the collar of my jacket. “You’re rolling with them, right? Perfect. You’ll do.” I thrashed wildly, kicking and screaming, but my body felt completely hollow. With the absolute last ounce of strength I had, I smashed the emergency SOS button on my phone before the darkness swallowed me whole. My final thought, before I lost consciousness, was sickeningly clear. Of course. No matter what the situation is, I am always the one left behind to die. When I finally opened my eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room blinded me. Julian was standing at the foot of my bed, looking exhausted and carrying a heavy expression of guilt. Clara was standing next to him, her eyes puffy and red from crying. The second I blinked, Clara rushed to my bedside, her voice choking on dramatic sobs. “Chloe! Thank God you’re awake! We were so terrified!” Julian took a hesitant step forward, his voice completely devoid of its usual arrogance. “I am so sorry, Chloe. Everything happened so fast. That guy recognized Clara from the broadcasts, and I was terrified he was going to kill her, so my instinct was just to…” I turned my head away, staring blankly at the sterile white wall as a single tear slipped into my hairline. “We are done…” Before I could finish my sentence, Julian’s eyes darted to Clara’s forearm. The edge of a white bandage was slightly peeling off. “What happened to your arm? I told you not to move it.” “It’s fine, it just snagged on my coat. Honestly, I’m just terrified that psycho is going to leak our location to the network.” Julian reached out, instinctively and gently pressing the adhesive tape back onto her skin. His tone was casual and intimately protective. “I already called security. You’re completely off field duty for the next week. I’ll write all your scripts…” Lying in that hospital bed, watching their flawless, sickeningly sweet dynamic play out in real time, I suddenly felt incredibly bored. My phone vibrated sharply on the bedside table. It was an automated email from HR. Overseas Correspondent Application: APPROVED. I pushed my weight onto my elbows, sat up, and reached over to rip the IV needle out of my own hand. Julian finally snapped out of his trance, lunging forward to grab my wrist. “What the hell are you doing?” I looked him dead in the eyes and said it loud and clear. “Julian, I am breaking up with you. I refuse to spend another second of my life in the same room as the two of you.” They both froze in shock. Clara’s eyes instantly welled up with fresh tears. “Chloe, please don’t do this. Last night was a horrible, freak accident. Julian didn’t mean to leave you…” The guilt instantly evaporated from Julian’s face, immediately replaced by that familiar, suffocating irritation. “Chloe, can you stop using breaking up as a weapon every time something doesn’t go your way?” Clara frantically grabbed his bicep. “Julian, stop yelling at her. She just woke up, she has a concussion…” Julian violently shook her hand off, staring down at me with profound disappointment. “I know you took a hit yesterday, but I already apologized! How long are you going to drag this childish tantrum out?” He let out a sharp, mocking scoff, grabbed Clara by the shoulder, and stormed out of the hospital room without looking back. Julian never came back to visit me. After I was discharged, I went straight to the network headquarters to pack my belongings for the overseas deployment. As I was walking through the main lobby holding a cardboard box, I nearly collided with Julian. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the box. “What is this? You’re actually quitting over an argument?” “I’m taking a leave of absence. I need a break.” He let out a massive sigh of relief and casually reached out to touch my forehead. “A break is a good idea. You need to reset your mental state. Clara and I are buried in a massive investigative piece right now, but once we wrap it up, I’ll come stay with you for a few days.” He was already speed-walking toward Clara, who had just walked through the revolving doors, and he didn’t even hear my final words. “Don’t bother.” Because I will never need you again, Julian.

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At six months old, I cried nonstop. No doctor could explain it. Desperate, my wealthy parents hired a baby whisperer who claimed she could translate infant thoughts. The moment she entered, she diagnosed me: a splinter in my toe. My parents checked—she was right. They trusted her blindly after that. Months later, I refused my mother’s milk. The whisperer told them, “She says you’re not her real mother. She’ll steal your fortune for her real parents and wishes you’d die soon.” Believing her, my parents cast me out and brought home their real daughter. I was sent to a run-down trailer park, where neglect and hunger defined my childhood. At ten, I died from abuse. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day the whisperer first arrived. This time, after they removed the splinter, I screamed even louder. 1 “Ma’am, the baby is crying because of a tiny wooden splinter lodged in her right big toe,” Martha said politely, standing by the nursery doorway. Brian skeptically removed my sock and indeed found the tiny, almost invisible speck of wood. “Amazing. You just stood by the door and glanced from afar,” Eleanor remarked, her voice filled with relief. “And you knew Jenny had a splinter thinner than a strand of hair?” “No wonder she is the most sought-after nanny in elite circles,” Brian said with a small smile. “She actually has real talent.” The ambient noise pulled my consciousness back to reality. I tried to speak, but only a baby’s high-pitched wail came out. I looked at my tiny, chubby hands and feet. I had been reborn. In my past life, my memories began in a desolate backwater town. I had no mother, only a father named Silas, who was a hopeless gambler. Whenever he lost a bet, he beat me. I lived hand-to-mouth, never knowing when my next meal would come. By the age of ten, I was smaller than a healthy six-year-old. When I turned twelve, Silas’s debts piled up so high he sold me to a local loan shark. I fought back when the man tried to touch me, cracked my skull against a table corner, and died in the dark. Only after my death did my infant memories return. I realized I was born into a life of luxury. Because of a clever con artist, I was labeled an ungrateful, fake daughter and discarded. Seeing Martha’s face now filled me with a mixture of terror and rage. But I was too small to fight back or tell my parents the truth. All I could do was cry harder. Brian’s brow furrowed again. He stared sharply at Martha. “I thought you said she was crying because of the splinter? We took it out. Why is she crying even louder now?” I glared at Martha with all the intensity my tiny eyes could muster. If only you could actually hear me, you miserable fraud. I would curse you to hell. In my past life, my spirit had hovered over my biological home after my death. I saw the real daughter grown up. She looked exactly like Martha. My parents eventually grew suspicious, conducted a DNA test, and uncovered the truth. But they were too soft-hearted. Even in their rage, they could not bring themselves to punish the girl they had raised for eighteen years. In the end, that ungrateful girl stole Brian’s company secrets and handed them to his biggest rival. Brian’s empire collapsed, and my parents’ lives became a living hell. Martha’s face flashed with a brief moment of panic. But she recovered instantly. “How strange,” she murmured, looking down at me with mock sympathy. “The young miss is saying she is crying because she despises your touch.” 2 I was so angry I flailed my tiny fists, wanting to strike her. She was already setting up the narrative of the ungrateful child. Eleanor’s face fell, her voice turning cold. “They say you are the best nanny in the city, and I paid a fortune to borrow you from the Vanderbilt family. But this is just nonsense. If you are going to keep driving a wedge between me and my daughter, get out.” Martha did not flinch. She stepped forward and gently picked me up. “I only report what the baby’s soul is whispering, ma’am.” I cried with everything I had to prove her wrong. But as Martha held me, she slyly brought a small cloth near my nose. A sweet, chemical scent filled my lungs, and a heavy drowsiness hit me instantly. Before I blacked out, I saw her lay me back down in the crib. “See? Now that you are not holding her, she has quieted down. If you do not believe me, there is nothing more I can do. I should return to the Vanderbilts; their young master is waiting.” She took three steps toward the door. Brian cleared his throat, stopping her. “Wait. Stay. We will double your salary. Just find out why Jenny is rejecting us.” Eleanor sighed, rubbing her temples. “You are right, Brian. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Maybe she just dislikes our perfume or the scent of our clothes.” No, Dad! Don’t listen to her! Let her leave! I screamed in my head, but darkness consumed me. When I woke up, Martha was officially installed as my full-time nanny. Furious, I spat at her face when she leaned over my crib. Get away from me, you monster! Martha wiped her cheek, a cruel smirk appearing on her face. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Enjoy your comfortable days while they last. I won’t hold a grudge against a baby.” She leaned closer, whispering in my ear. “Do you know how hard I worked to secure a golden life for my daughter? Out of all the wealthy families, yours was the only one with a baby born on the exact same day, in the same hospital. It is a bit of a downgrade for my girl to wait, but she will get what is hers eventually.” I wailed, trying to alert my parents. It was my only weapon, but my infant body was too weak. Eleanor walked into the nursery. “What is going on?” Martha secretly pinched my thigh hard, her fingers twisting the skin. “I think the baby sensed you coming, ma’am. She was perfectly calm just a second ago.” I tried to stop crying, but the physical pain was too much. The harder she pinched, the louder I screamed. Eleanor looked at me with a complicated, hurt expression before turning away. As soon as she left, Martha drugged me again. The next day, Martha offered me a bottle of Eleanor’s pumped breast milk. The moment it touched my lips, she pinched me again. “The young miss says she finds your scent disgusting, ma’am,” Martha lied, looking regretful. Because I had always struggled with feeding, Eleanor believed her. Then Martha offered a formula she had bought. I clamped my jaws shut, but Martha used the drug again. In my semi-conscious state, she forced the bottle down my throat. “See, ma’am? She has no problem with formula.” This happened repeatedly until my parents trusted her completely. Eleanor grew more anxious by the day. One evening, she asked Brian, “Why does our baby hate us so much?” Brian looked at Martha. “Has she said anything else? Is it our clothes? Our scent?” Martha knew her moment had come. She dropped to her knees, looking terrified. “Actually, the young miss has said some things. I didn’t dare repeat them because they were so shocking. But she has repeated them so many times, I am certain of what she is saying.” At Brian’s nod, she continued. “She says she hates your touch because you are not her real parents. She says when she grows up, she will take your wealth to honor her real family. And she wishes you would both die soon so she can inherit everything.” 3 In my past life, those words became a thorn in my parents’ hearts. Even after finding their real daughter, they initially wanted to keep me. But Martha’s relentless psychological dripping wore them down. Later, she framed me for hurting the real daughter, and they finally sent me away. Now, I watched my parents anxiously. Brian’s expression was unreadable. Eleanor was furious. “This is ridiculous! She is six months old! Even if she weren’t ours, how could an infant say such things?” Martha remained calm and solemn. “Every soul has a script they read before reincarnating. God makes babies mute for the first year because it takes that long for the veil of forgetfulness to fully set in.” My parents did not fully believe it, but the seed of doubt was planted. Over the next few weeks, Martha kept reporting my thoughts. Most were trivial things, like which toys I liked or which clothes I preferred. But she masterfully slipped in poison. “The young miss says your real daughter is starving in a filthy backwater town.” “She says her real father is a man named Silas, a proud, strong man.” “She seems happy today. She says your real daughter is about to be beaten to death by her gambling father, and then no one will compete with her.” My parents looked at me with growing distress. Martha kept me isolated. Whenever they tried to get close, she found a way to make me cry. Slowly, Eleanor broke. “Brian, what if it is true? Let’s just run an investigation. We have nothing to lose. But if our real daughter is out there…” Brian agreed and sent his assistant to investigate. Very quickly, they tracked down a baby girl of my exact age living with a gambler named Silas in a rural trailer park. The moment they brought the real daughter back, they ran a DNA test. The results came back that afternoon; she was a perfect match. 4 The moment the results were revealed, Eleanor wept, clutching the baby girl, whom they named Daisy. “My poor baby, you have suffered so much.” I lay in my crib nearby. Eleanor did not even look at me. Brian, being cautious, ordered an investigation into how the swap happened. The assistant quickly reported back that a negligent nurse at the hospital had mixed up the bassinet tags. With that, Brian’s doubts vanished. He held Eleanor and Daisy close. “We are whole now.” Martha stood behind them, barely concealing her triumphant smirk. She had successfully secured a life of infinite wealth for her daughter. I cried, terrified. Was history repeating itself? My crying drew my parents’ attention. “Jenny has been with us for months,” Eleanor said softly, looking conflicted. “We aren’t strapped for cash. We can afford to raise her too. Let’s keep her.” Martha chimed in immediately. “Have you forgotten what she said? She is a danger to this house!” Brian sighed. “If what you say is true, the forgetfulness will kick in soon. She is just a baby. We will raise her right.” Martha paled. She knew that as long as I stayed, my physical resemblance to my parents would eventually expose the truth. Over the next few days, I did everything I could to crawl away whenever Daisy was near, depriving Martha of any opportunity to frame me. Frustrated, Martha finally lost her patience. One afternoon, while Eleanor was in her room and Brian was in his study, Martha grabbed my hand and tried to force my fingernails into Daisy’s skin. I clenched my fists tight, refusing to scratch her. Seeing that Daisy wasn’t crying, Martha grew desperate. She grabbed my hand, squeezed my fingers, and used her own sharp nail to slice a deep gash into Daisy’s arm. Daisy screamed in pain. Martha wailed at the top of her lungs. “Brian! Eleanor! Help!” My parents rushed into the nursery. Martha was kneeling, cradling a crying Daisy. “I walked in and saw Jenny clawing at Daisy! She looked so vicious, not like a baby at all! She was screaming in her mind that she wanted to kill Daisy so she could keep her place as the sole heiress!” Eleanor whispered, “Is she truly born evil?” I flailed desperately. No! That is not what happened! This was my last chance. If I was sent away now, I would die. Brian closed his eyes and sighed. “Send her away.” Martha beamed, reaching down to grab me. And then, I summoned every ounce of infant strength I had, and threw myself over the edge of the crib. The corner of the wooden rail snagged my romper, tearing it wide open. Revealing a torso covered in dark, purple bruises.

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1 Freshman year, my mom lost everything to a scammer and swallowed a lethal dose of painkillers. At the hospital, facing a $50,000 deposit just to pump her stomach, I emptied my pockets and found only $22 in crumpled bills and coins. As I sank to my knees to beg the nurses, Rick grabbed my arm and pulled me upright. He was the golden boy of our class, always sitting in front of me during lectures. Without hesitation, he pressed his heavy, solid gold heirloom bangles into my palm. “Pawn these. Use the cash to save her,” he said firmly. “A girl should never have to trade her dignity for money. Stand up straight.” I told him I would probably never be able to repay such a debt. He simply looked at me and replied, “I didn’t ask for repayment. Just survive this. Make something of yourself.” My mother survived the overdose. I pushed through graduation, clawed my way up the corporate ladder, and weathered the brutal storms of the tech industry. After college, Rick completely vanished, and I lost all contact with him. Seven years passed. On the very day my tech empire went public on the Nasdaq, pushing my net worth into the billions, Rick’s face suddenly appeared on my social feed. The post was from Luv, the same partner who had scammed my mother all those years ago. The photo showed Rick’s side profile. He was holding a glass of cheap liquor, forced into a humiliated, apologetic smile. The caption read, “The high and mighty golden boy, swallowing his pride and pouring my drinks just to beg for a hundred grand in medical bills. How the mighty have fallen.” I slowly locked my phone screen. Walking over to the hidden safe in my office, I unlocked the deepest compartment. Inside lay those two solid gold bangles, which I had tracked down and repurchased at an astronomical price years ago. Seven years ago, he saved my life. Tonight, it was my turn to have his back. A deafening crash echoed through the room as my boot splintered the heavy oak doors of The Apex Club’s VIP lounge. Inside, a dozen scantily clad bottle boys screamed and scrambled into the corners. Sprawled right in the center of the genuine leather sofa was Luv. The architect of my mother’s misery. “What kind of suicidal idiot crashes Luv’s private party?” The voice didn’t belong to Luv. It came from Lexi, our old class president, a girl who had always kissed up to the rich and trampled on the poor. Lexi cursed under her breath and stood up. She squinted through the neon club lighting, her eyes locking onto my face. A second later, she threw her head back and burst into exaggerated, mocking laughter. “Well, look who it is! If it isn’t Freya, the little stray dog from college who couldn’t even afford cafeteria food!” Lexi sneered, crossing her arms. “What’s the matter? Heard your pathetic mother didn’t quite finish the job, so you came here to beg for scraps?” I didn’t even look at her. My eyes swept the dim, alcohol-soaked room. I didn’t see the face I was looking for. “Where is Rick?” I asked, my voice dropping to a freezing whisper. Hearing that name only made Lexi’s smile wider and infinitely more vulgar. “Aw, still pining after our fallen prince? Too bad you’re late.” She pointed a manicured finger at three empty bottles of high-proof whiskey on the table. “He wanted Luv to loan him a hundred grand to save his crippled mother. Luv made him chug three bottles straight. He just stumbled out of here, puking up his own bile.” Lexi tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with malice. “If you want to book him for the night, Freya, get in line. But hey, since you used to have a crush on him, maybe Luv will give you a discount once she’s done breaking him in?” The entire VIP room erupted into cruel, roaring laughter. My heart seized in my chest. A violent, suffocating rage spiked straight to my brain. I remembered the winter of my freshman year. The city was buried under a brutal blizzard. To pay off the debt from my mother’s hospital bills, I was working three minimum-wage jobs. One night, while delivering food in the snow, my bike was robbed. I lost my last dime covering the stolen orders. I was sitting on a frozen curb, my stomach cramping so hard from hunger I couldn’t breathe. That was the night Rick found me. He didn’t hand me cash out of pity. Instead, he shoved two steaming containers of hot food into my freezing hands, his cheeks flushed from the cold as he feigned annoyance. “Ordered too much. It’s going in the trash anyway. Do me a favor and get rid of it.” I kept my head down, swallowing the hot food as fast as I could while tears mixed with the broth. His voice was so gentle that night. “You need a full stomach if you’re going to keep fighting. Stop looking so miserable. If the sky falls, the tall guys will hold it up for you.” That boy. The boy who stood in the freezing snow, carefully protecting the fragile dignity of a dirt-poor girl. The boy who gave me my only shred of warmth when I was at the absolute bottom. And now, these absolute pieces of trash were treating him like a disposable toy. “Who did you say gets a discount?” I asked, taking a slow step toward Lexi. “What? Did I strike a nerve?” Lexi shoved her finger aggressively into my face. “You broke little bitch, who do you think you are…” She never finished her sentence. From behind me, Marcus, my head of security, moved like a shadow. A vicious roundhouse kick connected squarely with Lexi’s ribs. She shrieked as the sheer force launched her backward. She crashed violently into the glass coffee table, shattering the surface into a thousand pieces. Marcus walked over with a face carved from stone. He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanked her head back, and delivered a brutal backhand that sent a spray of blood and broken teeth onto the expensive rug. A piercing scream tore through the room. Dead silence fell over the club. The bottle boys were weeping, pressing themselves into the walls. Even Luv, who had been sitting like a queen just moments ago, drained of all color, her alcohol buzz vanishing instantly. I walked over to Lexi, looking down at her writhing body. “I will ask this exactly one more time. Where is Rick?” Blood bubbled from Lexi’s lips. She sobbed in sheer terror, pointing a trembling finger at Luv. “It was Luv… She said his puking ruined the mood. She kicked him out… sent him to the Southside dive bars… forced him to work as a promo boy for cheap beer…” The Southside dive bars. The absolute worst, most dangerous underbelly of the city. Throwing a desperately broke, undeniably handsome man into a place like that to sell drinks was no different than tossing fresh meat into a wolf pack. My nails dug so hard into my palms they almost drew blood. “Marcus,” I said, my voice ragged. “Yes, boss.” “Activate every contact we have in this city. I want his exact coordinates in five minutes.” I didn’t take my eyes off Luv. “If he is missing a single hair on his head, I will have every breathing soul in this room dumped into the river.” Five minutes later, a convoy of three black SUVs screeched to a halt outside a neon-lit strip of Southside dive bars. I rolled down the tinted window. I spotted him immediately. He was wearing a paper-thin, ridiculous promotional t-shirt. His lips were blue from the freezing rain, and he was surrounded by a circle of tattooed thugs. Standing in the center of the mob was Derek. Lexi’s current boyfriend, and the guy who spent all four years of college burning with jealousy over Rick. Derek smirked, kicking a full crate of glass beer bottles off the table. They shattered instantly. Alcohol, rain, mud, and jagged glass flooded the pavement. “Hey, golden boy, didn’t you say you needed to hit your sales quota tonight?” Derek laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “Get on your knees. Pick up every single piece of broken glass out of this puddle. Do that, and I’ll buy ten crates from you.” The thugs around him howled with laughter. “Kneel, pretty boy! You used to be so untouchable, right?” one of them jeered. “Remember when my girls tried to ask you out and you didn’t even look at them? Bet you never thought a few hundred bucks could buy you for the whole night now!” Rick bit his lower lip so hard it bled. His face was deathly pale. Derek leaned in close, dropping his voice. “Feel insulted? Don’t want to get your knees dirty? Fine. Walk away. But your crippled mother is getting thrown out of the ICU tonight.” Rick didn’t argue. He didn’t say a word. He simply lowered his head, and slowly bent the knees that used to be so full of pride. He knelt in the freezing mud. He reached his raw, red hands into the filthy water, picking up the jagged shards of glass one by one. Drops of blood instantly bloomed from his fingertips. The blood roaring in my ears was deafening. I wanted to step out of this car and tear every single one of them apart with my bare hands. But not yet. I needed to wait for the exact right moment to end this permanently. One of the thugs stepped forward, tipping a half-empty glass of stale beer directly over Rick’s head. “Wash your brain, pretty boy. Move faster!” Rick violently shivered as the freezing alcohol ran down his hair and into his eyes. He wiped his face blindly with the back of his arm and kept reaching for the glass. A sudden, sharp gasp escaped his lips. Derek had just stomped his heavy combat boot directly onto the back of Rick’s hand, driving the broken glass deep into his flesh. “Oh, my bad. Didn’t see you there,” Derek sneered, twisting his heel into the wound for good measure. Rick shook uncontrollably from the agony. But he didn’t pull his hand away. He slowly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, staring dead into Derek’s face. “It’s clean,” Rick whispered. “Ten crates. Your commission is three hundred bucks. Pay up.” Derek covered his mouth, laughing hysterically. “Three hundred bucks? Do I look like a charity?” He pulled three crumpled hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and threw them violently into Rick’s beer-soaked face. “Take it and get lost. Looking at your pathetic face makes me sick.” Rick stayed silent. He painstakingly picked the muddy bills out of the puddle, clutching them in his bleeding fist like they were his only lifeline. My chest caved in. Sophomore year, I was working in the campus cafeteria. Lexi lost five thousand dollars of the student council budget and blamed it on me. The entire class called me a thief. The dean was preparing my expulsion papers. It was Rick who kicked open the dean’s office door. He slammed a USB drive with cafeteria security footage and a police report onto the desk. “The footage proves she was in the back kitchen washing dishes! Whoever keeps spreading rumors without evidence, I’ll sue them for defamation and drag them out of this school myself!” That boy. The one who shielded me from the world, who was willing to make enemies of everyone just to clear my name. Now, he was kneeling in the dirt, letting absolute filth step on his bleeding hands for three hundred dollars. In the driver’s seat, Marcus reached for the door handle, a steel baton already gripped in his hand. “I’m going to flatten them.” “Wait,” I commanded, my eyes locked on the window. “Pulling him out of there is easy. But it doesn’t fix the root of this,” my voice dropped to an icy temperature. “Look into it. Find out exactly how he ended up selling drinks in a gutter. Find out how Luv backed him into this corner.” “Tonight, we pull this entire weed up by the roots.” The car was dead silent. A minute later, Marcus passed a tablet to the back seat. “Boss. We have the whole picture.” I took the tablet. Just one glance was enough to make the veins in my temples throb with pure, unadulterated fury. Three years ago, Luv orchestrated a massive corporate trap that bankrupt the Su family’s construction firm. The shock caused Rick’s father to suffer a massive stroke, paralyzing him and leaving the family drowning in ten million dollars of debt. Luv seized their family home. Then, she blacklisted Rick. She put out the word across the entire city: anyone who hired Rick was making an enemy of her. She systematically cut off every single path to survival he had. She wanted to drag this proud, untouchable man through the mud until he was so desperate he had no choice but to crawl into her bed. Right at that moment, the harsh ringing of a cheap, cracked cell phone pierced the cold air outside. Rick pulled the phone from his pocket with a trembling, bloody hand. The speaker was so damaged that the voice on the other end crackled loudly through the alleyway. “Mr. Su, are you paying the hundred thousand for your mother’s bypass surgery or not?” The hospital billing department sounded completely apathetic. “If the funds aren’t in the account by midnight, we have to pull her off the machines and discharge her.” Rick clutched the three bloody hundred-dollar bills, his voice breaking entirely. “Please, doctor, please just give me one more day. I’m getting the money, I swear…” The line went dead. Rick stood alone in the freezing rain. He buried his face in his bleeding hands, his thin shoulders shaking violently as he finally broke down. I stared at the last page of the dossier on my tablet. My eyes froze. It was a bank transfer receipt from seven years ago. Back when my first startup was on the verge of total collapse, when I was completely out of options, I mysteriously received a hundred-thousand-dollar “anonymous alumni grant.” I built my entire empire off that money. “Boss,” Marcus said, his voice unusually heavy. “Seven years ago, Rick dropped out of his Master’s program. He took his grandmother’s historic estate—the only thing she left him—and mortgaged it at a massive loss just to get you that hundred grand.” “He nearly tore his own family apart to do it.” A high-pitched ringing echoed in my skull. It felt like a giant, invisible hand had just crushed my heart. Even breathing tasted like blood. I took his hundred grand, brought my company back from the dead, and built a billion-dollar empire. And he hid in the shadows, paying the ultimate price for my success. Even now, while I sat at the top of the world, the man who put me there was picking up shattered glass from a gutter just to buy his mother one more day of life. Marcus checked his earpiece and turned back to me. “Boss. Our eyes on the ground say Luv left the club ten minutes ago. She’s headed to the City Hospital. She drafted an ‘exclusive companionship agreement’ and is going to force him to sign it outside the ICU.” I slowly lifted my head. The killing intent in my eyes was finally boiling over. Good. Perfect timing, Luv. “Drive. Get to the hospital,” I ordered, my tone dripping with venom. “Contact Vanguard Capital. Liquidate our reserve funds. I want a total, scorched-earth financial assault on every single asset Luv owns. Tell the legal team to meet me in the hospital lobby with the acquisition papers.” Marcus gripped the steering wheel and slammed on the gas. I watched the blurry city lights fly by, my thumb gently tracing the gold bangles in my pocket. “She scammed my mother to the brink of death.” “She forced Rick into the mud.” “Tonight, I’m cashing out every single debt she owes.” Outside the ICU at the City Hospital, Rick stood shivering, his knuckles white as he gripped the final eviction notice. The heavy doors swung open. The head surgeon walked out, holding a clipboard, his expression stern. “Rick, where is the hundred thousand? If that balance isn’t cleared by midnight, we have to pull the plug. We need the bed.” Rick’s eyes were completely bloodshot. Without a word of hesitation, he dropped straight to his knees on the sterile tile floor. “Doctor, please. I’m begging you. I’m getting the money. Tomorrow morning, I swear! Please don’t take her off life support!” The doctor sighed, shook his head, and turned back into the ward. From the end of the hallway, a slow, mocking applause echoed against the walls. Luv strolled down the corridor, puffing on a thin cigar, taking her sweet time. “Bravo! What a devoted, tragic little son.” Behind her trailed Lexi, holding a bloody tissue to her broken mouth, her eyes full of sick vindication. “Tsk, tsk. Look at the untouchable prince now, begging on his knees like a stray dog,” Lexi mumbled through her swollen lips. “If you hadn’t played so hard to get back then and just slept with Luv, you wouldn’t be crying on the floor.” Luv stopped right in front of Rick, staring down at him like he was dirt. Smack. Ten thick, freshly wrapped stacks of hundred-dollar bills hit Rick square in the face. The cash scattered across the floor, soaking up the filthy rainwater dripping from his clothes. Next, Luv tossed a glossy hotel keycard and a legal contract into the pile of money. “I’m out of patience, Rick.” Luv blew a cloud of smoke into his face, using the pointed toe of her designer heel to tap the contract. “Sign the companionship agreement. Take the keycard. Go up to the penthouse, wash that filth off your body, and wait for me in bed.” “Pick up this hundred grand from the floor, one bill at a time, and you can buy your dying mother a few more days.” Rick slowly lifted his head. Tears of absolute humiliation spilled over his eyelashes. “You stole my family’s company. You caused my father’s stroke. Aren’t you afraid of karma, Luv?” “Karma?” Luv threw her head back and laughed frantically. She leaned down, grabbed a handful of Rick’s wet hair, and yanked his face close to hers. “In this city, I am karma!” “You think you’re still some precious golden boy? You’re cheaper than a street escort right now! Me spending a hundred grand to screw you is charity!” Lexi chimed in from the side. “Exactly! Just sign the damn paper! Your mom is about to flatline in there! You really think your precious pride is worth more than her life?” The hallway fell dead silent. Rick turned his head, looking through the ICU window at his mother, hooked up to a dozen breathing tubes. The heart monitor beeped so faintly it sounded like it was already fading. He had no way out. He closed his eyes. Silent tears hit the floor. To save her, he swallowed every last ounce of his pride, completely breaking the spine he had kept straight for so long. Kneeling on the tiles, he reached out a trembling, bloody hand toward the dirty money and the escort contract. Right as his fingertips brushed the paper. A warm, firm hand reached out from the air and clamped down on his wrist like a vise. Rick violently flinched, his head snapping around in sheer disbelief. I stared down at him. I looked at his hollowed-out cheeks, and the endless, crushing despair swimming in his eyes. The fire in my chest burned through the last thread of my sanity. I forcefully pulled him up and shoved him safely behind me. I raised my chin, my eyes locking onto Luv like the barrel of a loaded gun. “The hundred grand.” “I’m paying it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “515811”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On our wedding night, Hudson literally put a lock on his boxer briefs. A titanium combination lock. Waterproof, fireproof, and apparently, wife-proof. Just as I grabbed a heavy glass bottle, fully prepared to smash it and take what was legally mine, rows of glowing text suddenly drifted across my vision. [LMAO. The CEO would rather wear a padlock than touch his ex-wife. Bro’s commitment to purity is insane.] [Just wait until he meets the actual female lead. The ice king literally catches fire for her. Their office hookups are legendary.] [I kinda feel bad for the ex-wife though. Simping for him for six years, and she gets kicked to the curb without even holding his hand.] [Who cares? Everything the male lead owns belongs to our girl. He hands over his black cards, his shares. The ex-wife is just a walking ATM to fund their romance.] I stared at the floating comments, letting out a cold, bitter laugh. Why the hell should I bleed myself dry, offering up my money and my youth, just to end up with nothing and pave the way for some supposed “female lead”? Without a second thought, I crushed up ten of those highly questionable “Midnight Stallion” herbal energy boosters I bought at the gas station and dumped them straight into Hudson’s hangover smoothie. Guarding your purity, huh? Locking it up, right? Tonight, he was either breaking his vow of chastity, or I was making myself a widow! Either way, I wasn’t leaving him untouched for his next girl. I kicked open the heavy oak door to Hudson’s home office. Before he even had time to process what was happening, I grabbed his jaw and forced the spiked smoothie down his throat. The thick liquid spilled over his jawline, soaking into his charcoal dress shirt, perfectly highlighting the hard, sculpted lines of his chest. I swallowed hard. My craving for a piece of that meat only grew stronger. Hudson shoved me away violently, wiping his wet mouth, his eyes wide with absolute shock. “Faye, what the hell did you just make me drink?” I tossed the empty glass aside, straddled his lap, and looked him dead in the eye. “Ten maximum-strength herbal vitality boosters!” Hudson’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. I grabbed his silk tie and crashed my mouth against his. Six years of a crushing, one-sided secret love. One year of a paper marriage. And this was the very first time I actually tasted my own husband. His lips were softer than I imagined. My hands weren’t idle either. I had just managed to pop open the first two buttons of his shirt when he suddenly snapped out of his shock, grabbing my waist and flipping me backward onto his mahogany desk. “Faye, are you out of your damn mind?! Who gave you the nerve?!” “Don’t forget the terms we agreed on when we signed the papers! This is a corporate merger! No feelings involved!” Right. His company was bleeding cash, and my family provided a three-million-dollar bridge loan to save him, buying this marriage certificate in the process. But the glowing comments floating in the air said I was destined to be thrown out penniless, acting as nothing but a stepping stone for the real female lead. Like hell I would let that happen. I ripped my own collar open a few inches, leaning into the crazy. “We’re already married! Even if the fruit is bitter, I am taking a bite out of it tonight.” Maybe he had never seen me act so unhinged. Hudson froze for a second, then reached out to press the back of his hand against my forehead. “What is wrong with you? Are you sick?” Always like this. Usually, he was as cold as a glacier, but the second I acted slightly off, he pretended to care more than anyone else in the world. My nose stung. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. “Hudson, just kiss me. Please… If you kiss me, I won’t feel so sick anymore.” The man in my arms went completely rigid. I could feel his body physically reacting to me. Just when I thought I had finally won, he gripped my waist hard, lifted me off the desk, and quickly straightened his ruined shirt. “Faye. We are business partners.” “I don’t have feelings for you. I will never touch you.” “Give it up. Just sit quietly and play the role of Mrs. CEO.” Maybe he realized how brutal those words sounded, because he paused and added, “I’ll have my assistant wire you a million dollars tomorrow. Consider it compensation.” With that, he stormed into the attached bathroom and locked the door behind him. The sound of freezing cold water hitting the tiles mixed with his heavy, ragged breathing. I sat on the edge of the desk, my entire body turning to ice. The glowing comments flooded my vision again. [LMAO. Hudson would rather take an ice bath than touch the ex-wife. His loyalty is unmatched.] [Does she actually think she’s something special? Forcing a kiss on him? The delusion is real.] [Honestly, it’s a little sad. Legally married and he refuses to even look at her.] [Sad? He gave her a million bucks! But knowing this chick, she’ll probably wire it right back to him tomorrow to prove her ‘love’.] [Exactly. His money is destined for our girl Lily. His body too.] [Ugh, if I were the ex-wife, if I couldn’t get the guy, I’d at least keep the damn cash.] I pulled my knees to my chest and cried for the entire night. The comments were right. I was putting on this fake, noble act, playing the ultimate romantic martyr. Hudson literally offered me money, and I usually refused it. If I hadn’t seen those floating words, I really would have walked out of the divorce with absolutely nothing but the clothes on my back. By the time the sun came up, I finally figured it out. If Hudson didn’t want me, fine. I would quietly hoard the cash. As soon as his precious female lead showed up, I would take my money and disappear. Mind made up, I crawled back into the master bedroom to catch up on my sleep. When Hudson woke up that morning and didn’t see me in the kitchen, he actually froze for a second. He pushed open the bedroom door, saw the lump of blankets in the middle of the bed, and the tight line of his jaw finally relaxed. When he arrived at the corporate headquarters, he sat down for his morning briefing, hesitated for a moment, and pressed the intercom for his assistant. “This is my wife’s routing number. Wire three million to her account. Pull it directly from my personal funds.” I slept like the absolute dead. From the day I married Hudson, I spent every waking moment walking on eggshells, desperately trying to please him. Today was the first time I actually slept peacefully. When I woke up, it was already past two in the afternoon. Which meant I hadn’t made him breakfast. I hadn’t delivered his perfectly portioned lunch to the office either. Not that he cared. I unlocked my phone. For the first time in forever, there was an unprompted text from Hudson. [Let’s forget about last night.] [I wired you some money. Go buy something you like.] I checked my banking app. Exactly three million dollars. God bless the CEO. My savings account just hit seven figures. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. If I had just focused on the money from the start, I probably would have achieved financial freedom years ago. I washed my face and decided to go for a walk downtown. Somehow, I ended up outside the coffee shop right beneath his corporate tower. Through the massive glass windows, I saw a girl in a flowing white sundress holding a stack of brochures, handing them out to pedestrians under the blazing Texas sun. The comments exploded instantly. [Ahhhhh it’s our girl Lily! She is so hardworking, doing charity legal outreach in this heat!] [Wait, I remember this! She has terrible cramps today. The male lead is going to bump into her and carry her straight up to his penthouse office!] Is that right? So this was the girl who eventually turned the cold, calculating Hudson into a lovesick fool. She was… undeniably prettier than me. Her skin caught the sunlight like porcelain, flushed a delicate pink from the heat. The oversized white dress did nothing to hide the perfect curves of her figure. But she looked genuinely pale and sick. The cramps were clearly tearing her apart. Right at that moment, the glass doors of the headquarters slid open, and Hudson took a long stride out of the lobby. Lily swayed on her feet and collapsed directly into his chest. My vision was instantly blinded by comments screaming “OMG,” “SO SWEET,” and “I’M DYING.” Hudson reacted exactly the way the comments predicted. He looked down at her face and froze. For the very first time in his life, he didn’t shove a stranger away. Instead, he hesitated for half a second, bent down, scooped her up into his arms, and turned right back into the building. I didn’t watch the rest. I just closed my eyes. I didn’t need to see it to know how it ends. The leads meet, they become magnetically drawn to each other, and they fall into a chaotic, earth-shattering romance. And me? The unloved background character? My screen time was over. Some things in life just can’t be achieved through hard work. My nose stung. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. I walked into the luxury mall next door in a complete daze. Spotting a high-end salon, I walked right in. The stylist smiled at me in the mirror. “What kind of look are we going for today, miss?” I pointed at the top of my head. “Dye the whole thing green.” He blinked. “That color… is a bold choice. Are you sure?” “It’s fine. It fits the mood.” The stylist looked at me with deep, sudden pity. I used to think Hudson liked elegant, preppy women, so I spent hours torturing myself into pastel cardigans and sleek blowouts. In the end, he never even glanced my way. I knew I wasn’t classically beautiful. I had a round face, a little bit of baby fat, and I always felt a little awkward in my own skin. When the bleach was washed out and my hair was a deep, vibrant forest green, the stylist actually smiled. “Hey, I have to admit, you rock this color. You look like a gorgeous forest witch.” My smile probably looked worse than crying. “Really? Maybe… maybe this is who I actually am.” I wasn’t like Lily, who could just stand there and radiate this delicate, heartbreaking fragility. I went to the boutiques next door and bought an armful of ridiculously comfortable, baggy streetwear. When the cashier asked what I wanted to do with the expensive pastel dress I wore in, I didn’t hesitate. “Throw it in the trash.” I had only bought it guessing at Hudson’s preferences anyway. He didn’t like it, and I hated it. No point keeping it. When I got home, I purged my closet. Half my clothes went into donation bags, the rest straight into the dumpster. By six in the evening, Hudson walked through the front door. He looked genuinely surprised when he saw me dragging heavy trash bags toward the door. “What are you doing? It’s late. And I thought you loved that skirt.” I kept my head down. “I don’t like it anymore, so I’m throwing it out.” “And your hair…” “It fits the mood.” “…” He didn’t push it. He walked further inside and noticed the dining table was completely empty. “Did you…” I finally remembered I hadn’t cooked a single thing. “Sorry. I was tired today. I can order some takeout for you?” Hudson’s gaze lingered heavily on me. “Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.” He turned and walked toward the guest bedroom. As he brushed past me, a faint, sweet scent drifted off his suit jacket. Gardenias. It was Lily’s perfume. Hot water beat down from the showerhead. Hudson leaned against the wet tile wall, his mind completely hijacked by the memory of Faye straddling his lap the night before. He admitted it to himself—he definitely reacted. Those ridiculous herbal pills weren’t entirely useless. But what actually frustrated him was the fact that he kept replaying the taste of her kiss in his head. It felt shameful, yet incredibly addicting. He scrubbed his face with body wash, his ears straining to hear any movement outside the door. But thirty minutes passed, and Faye never burst in. He pressed his tongue hard against the inside of his cheek, feeling like he was losing his mind. Why was he hoping she would barge in and kiss him again? He didn’t even like her. He rinsed off the soap, threw on a bathrobe, and walked out. He told himself he was just thirsty. He just needed a glass of water from the kitchen. But when he reached the living room, the lights were entirely off. Faye was already asleep in the master bedroom. A heavy, uncomfortable feeling settled in Hudson’s chest as he turned and walked back to his empty room. That night, he dreamed of his home office. He dreamed of Faye sitting on his lap, only this time, he didn’t push her away… The next morning, I woke up to find breakfast already set on the table. Hudson had actually cooked. He saw me, giving a stiff, unnatural smile. “You’re awake? I noticed you drank a bit the other night, so I made you some soothing ginger chicken broth.” I gave a quiet “Hmm.” I was just starting to feel a little touched, until the glowing text ruined it. [Holy shit, what is happening? The CEO cooking for the ex-wife?!] [Relax. He heard our girl Lily has a weak stomach, so he’s trying to perfect this ginger broth recipe. He’s just using the ex-wife as a taste tester.] [You gotta admit, the ex looks like she’s about to cry. She probably thinks he actually likes her now.] [So shameless. Look at her face. She has zero self-awareness, always throwing herself at him.] The more I read, the colder my blood ran. I finished the broth in absolute silence. Hudson ate his toast, watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Is it good?” I nodded slowly. “It’s good.” When you make it for Lily later, she’ll probably love it. I carried my bowl into the kitchen, completely ignoring the heavy gaze Hudson kept locked on my back. When he was putting on his shoes to leave for work, he suddenly leaned down, aiming to kiss my cheek. I jumped back like I had been burned. “What?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “Nothing,” he coughed, trying to hide his awkwardness. “Just… we are married. It’s standard procedure.” I forced a bitter smile and waved him off. “No, you don’t need to do that. You don’t ever have to do that again.” You don’t have to force yourself to accept me. Go do what you actually want to do. I looked at Hudson’s flawless face, silently drawing a hard line through this relationship in my heart. Hudson left for the office with a dark, stormy expression. I figured since the female lead had officially entered the chat, our marriage was probably on a countdown. Once this was over, I would be completely alone. I didn’t know what my next move was. Needing someone to talk to, I took an Uber to my mother’s new house. She was sitting on the porch, rocking her toddler son in the sun. When she saw me, irritation flashed in her eyes. “Why are you here?” I swallowed awkwardly. “Nothing, I just wanted to see you. Mom, there’s something I need to talk to you about…” Right then, my little half-brother tripped and fell. My mom frantically rushed over to scoop him up. “Whatever it is, text it to me. Your stepdad is coming home soon, and you know he doesn’t like having you around. You need to leave.” I slowly backed away and tried calling my dad’s number. He picked up, the sound of crashing ocean waves and a younger woman laughing in the background. “I’m on vacation in Cabo. If no one is dying, don’t call me.” “Dad, I just need to ask you something…” “Ask your mother! Stop coming to me every time you want a handout! You’re not my only kid anymore!” Click. The line went dead. I stood at the corner of a busy intersection, my mind completely blank. Right on cue, the floating text popped up with a new update. [OMG OMG! Lily brought the ginger broth to Hudson’s office! They ate together and had the sweetest lunch date!] [It’s so cute! When is the ex-wife getting written out? I want to see the CEO catch fire for love!] [Soon! According to the timeline, he proposes to Lily in exactly two months. He definitely has to take out the trash before then.] I wanted to cry, but I was just so unbelievably exhausted. Even as a side character, shouldn’t I get at least a tiny bit of happiness? Forget it. Ever since my parents divorced and threw me away like garbage, I was used to the fact that good things just weren’t meant for me. I crouched on the sidewalk, let a few tears fall, and stood up to leave. Just then, a sleek black Mercedes pulled over to the curb beside me. The tinted window rolled down, revealing a handsome, gentle face. “Faye? What are you doing out here?” I blinked, recognizing him instantly. “Sebastian? Sebastian Qu?” Sebastian smiled and nodded. “Just got out of the medical lab. I thought I recognized you. Is everything okay?” He was Hudson’s college roommate and original business partner. They had a falling out over corporate ethics, and Sebastian left to build his own insanely successful med-tech firm. Other than a quick hello at my wedding, we had barely spoken. I didn’t expect him to actually remember me, let alone step out of his car to hand me a pack of tissues. I felt my face heat up. “Thank you…” Sebastian offered a soft, understanding smile. “What happened? Crying on the street like this… did Hudson do something to you?” The Feed immediately started screaming. [Oh snap, it’s Sebastian! The tech billionaire! Good looks, infinite money, and an actual moral compass!] [I heard this dude is chronically single. Only cares about his research. His record is squeaky clean.] [Honestly, the ex-wife just has terrible taste. If she had gone after Sebastian instead, she’d be set for life and never have to worry about him cheating.] [LMAO so true. Sebastian loves his spreadsheets, not women. Marrying a guy like that would be so low-maintenance.] Sebastian… low-maintenance? Would that really work? I genuinely thought about it for a second before laughing at my own stupidity. How many times did I need to get my heart smashed before I stopped dreaming about these ridiculous fairy tales? That night, back at the empty house, I couldn’t stop thinking about the two-month countdown to Hudson’s proposal to Lily. If the timeline was right, we would be filing for divorce very soon. I needed to start packing. I was in the middle of emptying a drawer when I heard the front door click open. I walked out to the living room. Hudson was back. And standing right behind him, wearing a soft pink cardigan, was Lily. This was my first time seeing the supposed “female lead” up close. She really was stunning. Thanks to Hudson taking care of her lately, she had a healthy glow, light makeup, and smelled like expensive floral perfume. She looked at me without an ounce of guilt. “Hello, sister.” Me: … Before I could even process the audacity, she kept going. “I’m just here to help Mr. Hudson pack his luggage for his business trip. Please don’t misunderstand.” Oh, I wasn’t misunderstanding anything. Soon enough, this whole house would be yours. I gave a deeply forced, polite smile and looked at Hudson, who was drinking a glass of water. He met my eyes. “Pack a few suits for me. I’m flying to Austin for a project the day after tomorrow.” I nodded, about to stand up. Then I saw the comments calling me a nosy, meddling bitch, and I sat right back down. I looked at Lily with a warm, welcoming smile. “Hudson’s bedroom is on the second floor, first door on the left. You go ahead and pack for him.” “You’re his assistant, after all. You know exactly what dress code he needs for his meetings.” A flash of genuine shock and excitement crossed Lily’s face. She quickly suppressed it, lowering her voice to sound hesitant. “Are you sure that’s appropriate?” “It’s just clothes. Go ahead.” The second her footsteps disappeared up the stairs, Hudson slammed his glass onto the counter. He crossed the room, his face dark like a thundercloud. “Faye.” “Yeah?” “Why the hell did you just let another woman into my bedroom?” “Why not? It’s not like you ever wanted me in there.” Wanted me in there? Just breathing the same air as him used to look like it physically pained him. Hudson opened his mouth, closed it, and aggressively loosened his tie, looking incredibly frustrated. He was just about to say something when Lily came walking back down the stairs with a packed duffel bag. I smiled gracefully. “All done? Great. Have a safe trip, you two.” With that, I turned and walked back into the guest room, shutting the door. I pride myself on being incredibly dignified. I played the gracious host perfectly. My only hope now was that when the divorce papers came, he would add a few extra zeroes to the alimony check. Just like the comments said—if I couldn’t get the man, I was absolutely getting the bag. Lying in bed, trying to ignore the crushing weight in my chest, I pulled out my phone to scroll through TikTok. A message popped up from Sebastian. He said he just wrapped up a board meeting and asked if I wanted to grab dinner. I texted back that Hudson was out of town, and I was just sitting at home alone. He immediately sent a photo of a table covered in incredible food. [If you don’t mind the company, come over to this restaurant. We can talk about that grad school recommendation letter you mentioned.] Since sitting at home was only going to lead to an anxiety spiral, I threw on a jacket and ordered a car to the restaurant Sebastian booked. Putting all the complex drama aside, Sebastian really was a fantastic friend. He spoke slowly and deliberately, and he actually paid attention to how I felt. When he noticed I was picking the cilantro out of my food, he quietly flagged the waiter and swapped out three dishes for things I actually liked, including an amazing red wine braised short rib. I was having such a surprisingly good time that I snapped a photo of the table. I posted it to my Instagram story: [Huge thanks to Sebastian for the amazing dinner!] I figured Hudson was in Austin, he never looked at my social media anyway, and I didn’t bother hiding it from anyone. I didn’t expect that at eleven o’clock that night, a massive thunderstorm would roll into the city. I had just stepped out of the shower and was about to get into bed when I heard the electronic keypad on the front door beep. Thinking the wind had knocked something over, I turned on my flashlight and walked out to the hallway. Standing in the entryway was a completely soaked, dripping wet figure. His face was lethally dark. The second he saw me, Hudson crossed the room in three massive strides. He slammed me back against the hallway wall, his eyes completely bloodshot. “Just because I wouldn’t let you touch me that night, you ran straight to Sebastian?!”

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1 I was born with a tragic, inescapable flaw: I desperately craved a mother’s love. But in my old life, every time I offered my foster mother my beating heart, she rewarded me with a slap across the face. Just as I was agonizing over how to finally win her approval, a piece of paper changed my entire universe. I had been groveling to the wrong woman my whole life. I was actually the lost biological daughter of the wealthiest family in the state. Without a second of hesitation, I climbed into the back of the Crawford family’s Rolls-Royce. The moment I stepped through the grand mahogany doors of the estate, the girl who had stolen my life grabbed my hands. Anna, the fake heiress, looked at me with perfectly welling tears. “Sister, if the rest of the family doesn’t warm up to you right away, please don’t be sad.” I didn’t even hear her. I was staring blankly at the woman standing beside her, my heart hammering so violently against my ribs I could barely breathe. Are you telling me this woman—this elegant, commanding, breathtakingly powerful woman—is my new mother? Anna was still putting on her tearful performance. “You finally have a home now, but my parents’ love is all I have left in this world. Please don’t take that away from me.” Hearing the word parents, I finally pulled my eyes away from Victoria Crawford and gave Anna a slow, chilling smile. Keep dreaming, sweetheart. Anna instinctively took a half-step back. That sudden, eerie smile sent a shiver straight down her spine. But she quickly straightened her posture. She was convinced a backwoods nobody like me could never threaten her reign. My eldest brother, Preston, immediately caught Anna’s arm to steady her. “What are you talking about, Anna? Even if we don’t share blood, you are still a Crawford. We are family.” My second brother, Declan, stepped squarely in front of her, shielding her from me. “The hospital mix-up wasn’t your fault. You’re a victim in this too. We promise we won’t let anyone walk all over you.” Those words were aimed directly at me. Anna peeked at me from behind Declan’s broad shoulders. She subtly lifted the hem of her designer silk dress, showing off a blinding diamond tennis bracelet. “Sister, it must have taken you a whole day and night to drive here from the trailer park. You must be exhausted.” I didn’t even register her pathetic flex. I didn’t care about the crystal chandeliers, the bespoke suits, or the uniformed staff lining the foyer. I had been in this house for ten minutes, and for nine of those minutes, my eyes had been superglued to the matriarch of the family. My gaze was so intense that Victoria finally had to look back at me. She cleared her throat, clearly unsure of how to navigate this reunion with a daughter she hadn’t seen in eighteen years. “Your name is Serena, right?” The moment she said my name, my eyes burned with absolute adoration. Victoria actually looked a bit flustered under the weight of my worship. Declan raised his voice, his tone sharp. “Serena, Anna is talking to you. Are you deaf?” I mentally muted every single person in the room except for her. I walked straight up to Victoria and gently, carefully, tugged at the edge of her tailored blazer. “Mom?” My voice trembled. I was practically vibrating with excitement. Anna’s expression cracked. She quickly jogged over and linked her arm affectionately through Victoria’s other side. “Mom, let’s go show my sister her new room!” Her voice was a little too desperate, a little too rushed. My gaze finally shifted. I looked away from my mother and slowly dragged my eyes over to Anna. Anna’s hand twitched. She forced a painfully stiff smile. “Everything happened so fast, we didn’t have time to redecorate. You’ll have to make do with one of the guest rooms for now.” I shook my head. Anna immediately adopted a look of tragic resignation. “I knew it. If you insist on taking my bedroom, I’ll pack my things…” Declan scoffed, glaring at me. “Anna, why are you always so nice? She just walked through the door and she’s already trying to steal your room?” They were a remarkably annoying background noise. I kept my eyes locked on Victoria and spoke my very first full sentence since arriving. “Mom, which room is yours?” Victoria blinked in surprise and pointed up the grand sweeping staircase toward the third-floor master suite. I didn’t miss a beat. “Then I want to live in the room right next to yours.” “Serena, that room is just a storage closet for old furniture,” Victoria said softly. “I don’t care. I just want to be as close to you as possible.” Victoria’s gaze melted instantly. The awkwardness vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, protective warmth. “I’ll have the contractors here first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll knock down the walls and merge two rooms together to make you a proper suite.” Anna looked like she had been struck by lightning. She stared at me, grinding her teeth so hard her jaw trembled. What the hell kind of game was this girl playing?! Declan was equally stunned. “Mom, we haven’t done construction on the estate in years. You’re going to tear up the third floor just because she…” Victoria raised a hand, silencing him immediately. “The decision is final. Now, everyone sit down. It’s time for dinner.” I practically glued myself to the chair right next to my mother. Every time I looked up, I caught Anna shooting daggers at me from across the table. I casually scooted my chair an inch closer to Victoria. Anna’s grip on her silverware tightened. Jealous that I get to sit next to my own mother? I hid a smirk behind my water glass. Human nature is so predictable. A small porcelain bowl of rich lobster bisque was placed in front of everyone at the table. Except for me. Anna forced a sweet, highly artificial smile. “Oh no. The kitchen staff must have forgotten you were moving in today. They didn’t prepare a portion for you.” “These are all my absolute favorite dishes. I hope your stomach can handle such rich food. If you don’t mind, you can have my soup.” She made a grand show of pushing her porcelain bowl across the table toward me. Before it even made it halfway, Preston stopped it with his hand. “It’s just soup. If the kitchen forgot, they can make it up to her next time. You don’t need to give up your food for her.” Declan nodded in agreement, though his eyes were locked on me. “Look at this feast. She won’t starve. There’s no need for her to steal what’s yours.” Anna tilted her head, her smile turning triumphant. I simply lowered my gaze, adopting the picture of absolute, meek obedience. “It’s okay. I have a small appetite anyway. A few bites of bread will be plenty.” Anna froze. That was not the reaction she wanted. “Find the head chef and ask him how a mistake this massive happened. Everyone knew Serena was coming home today.” Victoria slammed her fork down. She looked at Anna. “Keep your food, Anna. We don’t need to perform charity at our own dining table.” Victoria then took her own untouched bowl of lobster bisque and placed it gently in front of me. “Here, sweetheart. Have mine.” Seeing my wide, slightly anxious eyes, her voice softened entirely. “Don’t overthink it. In this house, my love isn’t a pie to be sliced unequally. I don’t play favorites.” I nodded obediently, wrapping my hands around the warm bowl and taking tiny, delicate sips. Anna’s smile completely collapsed. She stared at me, her eyes practically burning holes through my skull. But I was bulletproof. I couldn’t care less if these people hated my guts. Back in my old life, my foster mother used to pile all the best meat onto her biological son’s plate and leave me with scraps. One day, I got so fed up I dumped a lethal dose of ghost pepper hot sauce into my foster brother’s macaroni. My foster mother was in such a panic, running around getting him milk and ice water, that she didn’t even bother to yell at me. It used to break my heart. Thank God I finally have a beautiful, fiercely protective mother of my own. The next morning, three delivery vans from high-end boutiques pulled up to the estate. One mountain of luxury boxes for me. One mountain for Anna. Declan patted Anna on the shoulder. “See? I told you there was nothing to worry about. Mom still loves you. She made sure you got a share of everything.” Anna blinked her doe eyes, looking pitiful. “But all of sister’s things are from the new season’s exclusive collection. She got the exact Birkin I’ve been on the waitlist for.” I lazily sifted through the sea of designer dresses and leather bags. I didn’t really care about any of it. But seeing Anna’s eyes turn red with envy made the whole thing wildly entertaining. Declan crossed his arms, stepping up as her knight in shining armor. “Mom is being completely unfair. Why does she get the absolute best picks?” “How is Anna supposed to feel? What are the maids going to think?” Preston stayed quiet for a moment before walking over to me. “You don’t even know the value of these brands anyway. Let Anna pick the ones she wants first.” I tilted my head, looking up at him. “But Mom specifically told the stylists to let me choose whatever I liked.” Preston stood in front of me like a brick wall. “If Mom can’t keep things fair, then I’ll level the playing field for her.” Anna hid behind his broad back, peering at me with a victorious glint in her eye. Preston’s gaze grew darker. “Anna is sensitive. Since she calls you her older sister, you need to act like one and yield to her.” Before I could even respond, he ordered the boutique staff to move the most exclusive, limited-edition pieces over to Anna’s pile. She casually flipped through the silk garments, pretending to be nonchalant. “Sister, I know I’m taking a lot of the good ones. You’re not mad, are you?” She said it just to twist the knife. She wanted to see me lose my temper. I yawned softly. “I’m not mad at all.” “You can have every single piece if you want.” “But you’re going to have to trade something else for it.” I unlocked my phone and tapped into the pinned chat contact labeled “Mom.” There are millions of designer bags in the world. But there is only one Victoria Crawford. If Anna wanted the bags, fine. I was playing a completely different game. My fingers danced across the screen. [I got all the presents! I love them so much. When are you coming back from your business trip, Mom? I miss you already.] A morning and evening text check-in had become my daily routine. Victoria was a titan of industry. She rarely replied. But even if she just sent back a single “Okay,” I would stare at the screen and read it a hundred times. Seeing me completely absorbed in my phone, Anna casually leaned closer, trying to spy on my screen. “Sister, you don’t really have any friends here. Who are you texting so obsessively all day?” She rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with venom. “When we brought you back, that foster mother of yours demanded a massive payout. You need to remember your place in this family. Don’t tell me you’re secretly funneling our money back to that trashy woman.” I finally looked up at her. The corners of my mouth curled into a slow, mocking smirk. Anna thought she had me figured out. “I get it. You figured out that Mom holds the purse strings, so you’re kissing up to her. It’s embarrassing.” My phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down. It was Victoria. This time, it wasn’t a short, formal reply. She had actually learned how to save and send a little cartoon cat sticker blowing a kiss. Anna was still running her mouth, her chin raised in absolute arrogance. “You can stop daydreaming. Mom is so busy running the empire she barely has time to sleep. She doesn’t have a second to waste on someone like you.” “Is that so?” I locked my phone and placed it face down on the table. I just looked at her, completely amused by her stupidity. A month flew by. Living in the Crawford estate was a dream. The only downside was that my mother was constantly traveling for board meetings and acquisitions. I rarely got to see her in person. But my daily text updates never stopped. At night, when I knew she was back in her hotel room, I would shamelessly beg her for a quick phone call. Sometimes she picked up. Sometimes it went to voicemail. I was always patient. Today, as I was walking out of my room, I was ambushed again. It was Anna. She dragged out her syllables, sounding like a detective who had just cracked a massive case. “Sister, are you going to make another secret phone call?” I tried to step around her. She was a waste of oxygen. Anna’s eyes darted to the phone in my hand, dropping the sweet facade entirely. “Serena, you are an outsider in this house. Everyone is just tolerating you out of pity.” “Everything in this family belongs to me. It always has.” I stared at her with a blank, deadpan expression. I had my mother’s love. I was basically sitting on a throne of gold. What kind of delusional nonsense was she spewing? I rolled my eyes so hard it physically hurt. “I am the biological daughter. You are a counterfeit.” “The only person in this house who has absolutely nothing is you.” Anna choked on her own breath. She desperately searched my face for a hint of insecurity or fear. She found absolutely nothing. Swallowing her rage, she leaned in close. “Let me tell you a little secret.” “My eighteenth birthday is in two days. Mom is officially gifting me ten percent of the company shares as my coming-of-age present.” I laughed out loud. “That’s crazy. It’s your birthday, so why are you begging my mother for a present?” That single, calm sentence completely shattered the last remnants of Anna’s sanity. “Stop acting like she actually gives a damn about you—” Before she could finish, the heavy thud of the front doors opening echoed from the first floor. Anna’s eyes flashed with calculation. She backed up against the heavy oak railing of the third-floor balcony, leaning her upper body dangerously far over the edge. “Sister, even if the family doesn’t like you, there’s no need to take your anger out on me!” she screamed. “Anna!” Two panicked voices shouted in unison from the stairs. Preston and Declan sprinted up the marble steps like their lives depended on it. Without a single question, Preston shoved me violently out of the way. “What the hell are you doing to her?!” He shoved me with a terrifying amount of force. I lost my footing and crashed hard into the sharp edge of a mahogany console table. “It’s all my fault! I lost my balance, please don’t blame my sister…” Anna sobbed beautifully, making absolutely sure to frame me while playing the saint. Declan glared at me with pure disgust. “I cannot believe how vicious you are!” “Anna already feels guilty for taking your place, and you try to push her over a balcony? If we knew you were this deranged, we never would have brought you back from the gutter!” I pressed a hand against my ribs. A dull, throbbing pain radiated through my side. Preston stepped toward me, casting a massive shadow, his voice cold and authoritative. “Apologize to her right now.” My vision blurred slightly from the pain. Preston rubbed his temples, his tone dropping even lower. “I know you resent Anna.” “But you crossed a line today. You made a mistake, and you are going to own up to it. Apologize.” My two older brothers stood like heavily armed guards in front of Anna. Biologically, we shared the same blood. But in their eyes, Anna was the only sister they had. The physical pain in my side was quickly swallowed by a freezing, numbing realization. It didn’t matter. None of these people mattered. Combined, they weren’t worth a single strand of my mother’s hair. I didn’t need to waste my emotional energy on them. Declan scoffed, looking down his nose at me. “Look at her. Zero class. Zero manners.” “Just like uneducated trash. Raised by a rat, acts like a rat.” That crossed a line. The temperature in my eyes plummeted to absolute zero. “I think you need to go to a clinic and get a DNA test.” Declan looked at me in shock. I pointed directly at the weeping girl trembling behind him. “You better run a full panel. Because the way you’re acting, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a delusional counterfeit just like her.” “Watch your damn mouth!” Declan roared, stepping forward. I took a step back, walked into my bedroom, and slammed the heavy door right in their faces. Instantly, fists began pounding fiercely against the wood. The muffled screaming leaked through the walls. “You only have the guts to act like a psychopath because Mom is out of town!” “Anna has been nothing but kind to you! Are you trying to drive her to suicide?!” “When Mom gets back, I am telling her exactly what kind of monster you really are! Let’s see how long you last here!” I leaned against the door, slowly sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. If someone was going to tell my mother about this, it was going to be me. I hit speed dial. The line connected on the second ring. When we first met, my mother’s tone on the phone was always polite, a little distant, full of careful guilt. Now, she was entirely used to my clingy, constant need for attention. Before Victoria could even say hello, the violent pounding and the muffled curses from the hallway echoed through the speaker. Her breath hitched. The authority returned to her voice instantly. “Serena, what is going on over there?” “They said… they said I’m uneducated trash. They said nobody in this family will ever actually love me.” “If you hate me too, Mom, then I can just pack my bags and leave…” My voice shook perfectly. Three parts genuine sadness, seven parts pure manipulation. I had just watched Anna deliver an Oscar-worthy performance. I was a fast learner. Victoria didn’t erupt into anger. Instead, her voice turned dangerously quiet and serious. “I hear you, sweetheart. Stay in your room. I will deal with this the second I get home.” A rush of pure, sugary adrenaline hit my bloodstream. But my celebration was cut short. I heard Victoria let out a heavy, conflicted sigh. “Anna is a good girl at heart. We raised her for eighteen years. We’ve always viewed her as our own flesh and blood.” “I really just want all of my children to get along.” I lowered my eyes. I responded with a soft, incredibly gentle voice. “Of course, Mom.” “Whatever you want.” If they stop acting like rabid dogs, I can play nice. Click. The lock on my bedroom door was suddenly picked from the outside. The handle turned, and the door was thrown open. Anna saw the phone pressed to my ear, and her eyes lit up like fireworks. She practically lunged at me, grabbing my wrist, staring at the screen that clearly read “Mom.” “I knew it! Look! I told you!” she screamed over her shoulder to Preston and Declan. “Every time Mom leaves for a business trip, she calls that trashy foster mother to beg for comfort!” The grip on my wrist was so tight it left red crescent moon indentations in my skin. Anna stared down at me, overflowing with vindictive glee. “Sister, if you miss your precious foster mommy so much, why don’t you just go back to the trailer park? Why are you still leeching off us?” Preston stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, looking at me with pure disgust. A flicker of dark amusement flashed across my eyes. I spoke calmly. “Who said I was talking to my foster mother?” Declan clicked his tongue. “Look at her, caught red-handed and still lying through her teeth.” Anna’s smile widened into something truly ugly. “You really don’t know anything about this family, do you? When Mom is on a business trip, she turns off her personal phone. She only answers the corporate line.” “Besides that gold-digging woman who raised you, who else are you pathetically calling ‘Mom’?” “Serena, you are an ungrateful, bloodsucking parasite.” I just sat on the floor, staring up at her, my expression completely serene. Anna looked at my face, and a sudden, violent spike of panic hit her chest. A second later, from the speaker of the phone tightly clutched in my hand, a voice she knew better than her own echoed into the silent room. “Anna. Who exactly are you calling a parasite?” All the blood instantly drained from Anna’s face.

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1 I had just been diagnosed with late stage stomach cancer. Three months left to live. A mysterious merchant found me in the quiet hospital corridor, offering to grant three of my deepest wishes. The price was simple: ten years of memories shared with Tanat, the man I had loved for a decade. I agreed without a single moment of hesitation. My first wish was for Tanat’s first love, Emily, to return from abroad immediately. My second wish was for him to see her true colors. My third wish was for him to spend the rest of his life entirely alone, forever mourning the love he threw away. “The deal is struck,” the merchant whispered. “Just a gentle warning, Kate. The extraction of your memories takes seventy two hours to complete. During this transition, you will still feel every ounce of the pain.” With those words, the enigmatic dealer of emotions vanished, melting into the sterile, blindingly white corridor of the hospital. I clutched the terminal diagnosis in my hand. The edges of the paper frayed under my trembling grip, my fingertips so cold they felt completely lifeless. Right then, my phone began to vibrate violently in my palm. The name Tanat flashed across the screen. My chest tightened, a pathetic shred of hope still lingering in my chest. Was he calling to ask about my doctor’s appointment? Had he actually remembered? Taking a deep breath, I forced my voice to sound steady and swiped to answer. “Hello?” I whispered. “Kate! You won’t believe the incredible news! Emily is coming back! Her flight lands the day after tomorrow!” Tanat’s voice burst through the receiver with an ecstatic energy I had never heard in our ten years together. He sounded like a child who had finally recovered his long lost, favorite toy. My mouth opened, but the words I got my test results back died in my throat, swallowed by his shouting. A wave of nausea hit me, leaving a bitter, metallic taste on my tongue. He did not notice the tremor in my voice or the heavy silence on my end. In his world, there was only room for Emily. “We need to cancel our anniversary dinner,” he rushed on. “I have to throw her a welcome party, and it has to be absolutely perfect. You should come too. Oh, and can you book the restaurant for us? Use our usual spot. Emily used to love the menu there.” He kept planning every detail, each word piercing my ears like hot needles. Our tenth anniversary. Our favorite restaurant. It turned out that the places I had grown to love over a decade of compromise were just settings we had prepared for her. I was merely keeping her seat warm. Holding my death warrant in one hand and listening to his absolute devotion to another woman in the other, a quiet laugh escaped my lips. Tears welled up in my eyes. Perhaps this was for the best. These final seventy two hours would serve as a proper funeral for the last ten years of my life. “Okay,” I said quietly, my voice cracking slightly. After hanging up, I bypassed our apartment and walked straight into a premium boutique downtown. There was a crimson silk dress in the window that I had admired for months but could never bring myself to buy. Today, I bought it without looking at the price tag. Tanat had always told me that red was too flashy, that he preferred me in soft, muted tones. He never understood that my soul was meant to burn a brilliant, fierce red. He was the one who had spent a decade slowly washing the color out of me. The next morning, Tanat practically dragged me out of bed. He rummaged through my closet, eventually pulling out a faded, oversized t shirt and a pair of worn jeans, tossing them onto the bed. “Wear this.” I stared at him, confused. He frowned, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Emily just got back. Don’t dress up too much. I don’t want her to feel self conscious or out of place around you.” I stared at him, and the very last ember of warmth in my heart died out. He wasn’t worried about Emily’s comfort. He was terrified that I would take the spotlight away from her. He insisted on driving to the airport himself. He spent the entire ride adjusting his tie and checking his hair in the rearview mirror, restless and eager like a teenager on his very first date. Sitting in the passenger seat, I watched the city blur past the window, completely numb. The countdown for my memories to fade was down to twenty four hours. Every minute, every second was an excruciating wait. When the intercom announced the arrival of her flight, Tanat bolted upright, his eyes locked onto the terminal exit. When Emily finally emerged, wearing a flowing white dress that made her look like an ethereal, pure angel, Tanat reacted like a bird escaping a cage. He shoved me out of his way, pushing past the crowd as he dashed toward her. “Emily!” He threw his arms around her in a desperate, breathless embrace, holding her so tightly it seemed as if he wanted to fuse her into his very bones. The force of his shove had sent me stumbling backward, my lower back slamming hard against the cold metal railing. A familiar, sharp agony flared in my abdomen, and the world momentarily spun into darkness. I stood there like an invisible prop, forced to watch their tearful reunion. Resting her head on Tanat’s shoulder, Emily’s eyes shifted over his back and locked onto mine. She flashed me a subtle, triumphant smirk. Then, slipping her arm through his, she walked over to me. Feigning surprise as if she had only just noticed my existence, she murmured, “Oh, Tanat, who is this?” Tanat blinked, only just remembering I was there, and offered a dismissive shrug. “This is Kate. She’s my… assistant. She helps out with things around the house.” An assistant. Ten years of building a life together, reduced to a casual title of household help. Emily immediately flashed a bright smile and extended her hand. “Hi Kate, I’m Emily. It’s so wonderful to meet you.” Before I could reach out, she tripped on her own feet with a soft gasp, stumbling directly into me. The cup of piping hot black coffee in her hand splashed entirely over my chest. The faded t shirt I was wearing was the very first gift Tanat had ever bought me, a decade ago. I gasped as the heat seared through the fabric, my skin instantly flushing a painful crimson. Tanat’s reflexes were incredibly fast. He caught Emily before she could fall, frantically checking her over. “Are you alright? Did it burn you?” He didn’t even spare me a glance. Emily shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m fine. I just lost my footing and got Kate’s clothes dirty. I’m so sorry…” Tanat finally looked at me, his brows furrowed in annoyance. “Kate, watch where you’re going! You’re so clumsy, you nearly hurt her!” He slipped off his expensive designer blazer and gently draped it over Emily’s shoulders, shielding her in his arms while completely ignoring the raw, blistering skin on my chest. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a cheap shirt. Let’s go get you something new to make up for the scare.” He guided her away, never once looking back. I was left standing in the middle of the crowded terminal, a pathetic joke of a woman. The pitying, mocking stares of the bystanders cut into me like knives. Suddenly, seventy two hours felt far too long to wait. That evening marked our tenth anniversary. I had texted him hours ago: It’s our tenth anniversary tonight. The table is booked. His only reply was a cold, single word confirmation. I spent an hour on my makeup, slipped into my new red dress, and sat at the restaurant waiting from seven until nine. He never showed up. When I finally called his phone, it rang for a long time before he answered. The background was filled with deafening bass and rowdy laughter. “What is it?” he snapped, sounding thoroughly annoyed. “Tanat, where are you?” “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. I’m out with Zack and the guys. We’re throwing Emily a welcome party. You should come over too. I’ll text you the address.” He hung up before I could say a word. Looking down at the cold steak and the vintage wine I had ordered, I smiled bitterly at myself. What was I still hoping for? Why expect mercy from the man holding the blade? I drove over to the lounge he mentioned. The moment I pushed the heavy doors open, the room fell dead silent. Dozens of eyes turned to me, filled with curiosity and cruel amusement. Tanat sat at the center table. In the seat that should have been mine, Emily was laughing softly at something he said. He looked up, giving me a lazy nod. “You made it. Grab a seat. The more the merrier, right?” Merry. My eyes locked onto the dress Emily was wearing. It was the exact same crimson silk dress I had on. The sight of it felt like a dull blade sawing through my chest. It wasn’t just the humiliation of wearing the same outfit; it was the realization that the muse and the substitute were wearing the exact same skin. Zack, Tanat’s closest friend, laughed loudly. “Hey Tanat, now that the real deal, I mean, now that Emily is back, when are you going to dump the shadow? We’re all waiting to toast to the real wedding!” The joke pinned me to the wall like a specimen. I stared at Tanat, waiting for him to defend me, to say something. He didn’t. He just laughed, swirled his glass, and said, “Cut it out, guys. Tonight is about Emily.” His silence was a betrayal far louder than any confession. Emily, completely ignoring my humiliation, picked up Tanat’s phone from the table. She unlocked it with ease and opened his photos. “Tanat, your password is still my birthday? You haven’t changed it once in all these years,” she cooed. Then, scrolling through his gallery, she paused on a photo of Tanat and me. She gasped softly, covering her mouth. “Oh, Kate, this is a beautiful photo of you two, but wait. Those earrings you’re wearing, aren’t they the silver cufflinks I gave Tanat for his graduation? Why do you have them?” Those cufflinks. They had been his graduation gift from her. He had treasured them for a decade, never letting them out of his sight. I used to think he was just sentimental. It turned out he was just waiting for the owner to return. Before I could speak, Tanat reached out. His fingers gripped my earlobe, and with a sudden, rough tug, he ripped the modified cufflink from my ear. A sharp pain flared, and a thin trickle of blood began to seep down my neck. He didn’t even look at me. He simply handed the piece to Emily, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. “If you want them back, take them. They were always yours anyway.” A violent spasm tore through my abdomen, far worse than any attack before. Cold sweat broke out across my back, my face turning ashen. Every breath felt like inhaling glass. I weakly reached out, tugging at Tanat’s sleeve. My voice was barely a whisper. “Tanat, I don’t feel well. I need to go home.” He was staring at Emily with adoration, and at my touch, he shook my hand off with irritation. “Kate, stop throwing tantrums. Everyone is having a good time. Don’t ruin the night.” In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I walked out of the lounge alone, the cold night wind hitting my face. Unable to hold it in any longer, I collapsed against the brick wall of the alleyway and threw up until my ribs ached. My stomach was completely empty, leaving nothing but bitter bile. I looked back at the warm glow of the windows, wiped my mouth, and called a cab. I didn’t go home. I went straight to the ER. I had twelve hours left, and I was done enduring. By the time I returned from the clinic after receiving a heavy dose of painkillers, it was nearly midnight. The countdown on my memories had hit its final minutes. Leaving the lights off, I used the pale moonlight to pack my things. For ten years, I had been like a swallow building a nest, slowly filling this empty house with my warmth. Yet, as I packed, I realized everything that actually belonged to me could fit inside a single, small suitcase. The sudden blare of my ringtone shattered the silence. It was Tanat. I pressed answer, met instantly by his furious shouting. “Kate, how dare you just walk out like that?” he roared. “Leaving her welcome party in the middle of the night? You have zero respect for anyone! You are unbelievably selfish!” My stomach flared with a dull ache, forcing me to curl up on the hardwood floor. “Tanat… I’m dying…” My voice was so faint, a desperate plea for him to listen. But he wasn’t listening. On the other end, he let out a venomous laugh. “This act again? Even if you actually died, you wouldn’t get a shred of sympathy from me. You aren’t worth a single hair on Emily’s head! I’m telling you, Kate, don’t expect me to look at you ever again. A manipulative, dramatic woman like you deserves to end up completely alone.” His words were rusty nails, driven straight into my battered chest. I stared at the digital clock on my phone screen, watching the seconds tick away. 57… 58… 59… A soft chime echoed in my mind, followed by the emotion merchant’s detached voice: Time is up. The transaction is complete. Tanat was still barking through the speaker, “Are you deaf? Get over here right now and apologize to Emily!” Suddenly, the crushing weight in my chest vanished. The pain was gone, replaced by a strange, light emptiness. The world seemed to reset, a sudden clarity washing over me. I listened to the man screaming hysterically on the line, feeling nothing but mild confusion. I stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the glittering city lights. My mind was perfectly clear. “Who is this?” I asked, my voice entirely flat. The line went silent for a second before his voice returned, louder and more rabid. “Kate, what kind of game are you playing now?” “You’re insane,” I said calmly. I hung up, blocked his number, and deleted the contact. A fluid, seamless sequence of actions. Looking in the mirror at my pale face and strangely bright eyes, I let out a soft, relaxed laugh. For the first time in my life, the world was wonderfully quiet.

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