1 My best friend and I were the two extremes of our social circle. Greg had run away from seven weddings in three years, earning a reputation as the ultimate commitment-phobe. He swore he’d stay a bachelor until the day he died. On the other hand, my girlfriend and I had been together for eight years, a steady, unbreakable marathon of love. To everyone we knew, I was the most reliable groom-to-be in the world. Until tonight, when Greg broke down, his eyes bloodshot and tears streaming down his face. “I think I’m losing my mind… I actually want to get married. When I’m with her, I’ve never felt so happy.” I smiled, squeezing his shoulder in genuine support. “Then marry her. I’m with you all the way, man.” Greg nodded vigorously, pulling out his phone to call the woman who had finally stolen his elusive heart. Across the line, a familiar, gentle voice spoke, warm and smooth. “Silly. Look up. I knew you’d get drunk, so I’ve been watching you from the front table the entire time.” A sudden warmth touched my chest. I instinctively turned with Greg to look toward the front table. And there she was. Evelyn. My girlfriend of eight years, the woman I was planning to marry. It turned out the legendary commitment-phobe had secretly found his harbor long ago. And our supposedly solid relationship was nothing more than my own pathetic, one-sided play. My glass slammed onto the table, shattering the illusion. Yet Evelyn’s face remained entirely blank, devoid of guilt. She gently helped Greg to his feet and whispered, “Let’s go home. I can explain.” Eight years. Part of me screamed to slap her, to rage and shout. But this was eight years, a full quarter of my life. How could I just throw it away like garbage? With bloodshot eyes, I quietly followed them into the car. The moment Evelyn helped Greg into the passenger seat, his phone’s Bluetooth automatically synced to the dashboard. An automated voice chimed: [Greg’s Hubby Phone connected. Prepare for a wave of love songs. Are you ready, Ms. Evelyn?] Greg’s voice blared over the speakers in a dizzying hum. I sat in the back, dazed. This was my very first time riding in Evelyn’s car. Whenever I had asked to drive it, she always claimed she needed the car to transport high-profile clients, saying a man’s sweat would ruin the pristine interior. Even when I promised I was clean, she would only offer a patronizing smile. “Come on, sweetie, let’s not argue.” But right now, the cabin was thick with the scent of Greg’s absinthe, heavy and mixed with the unmistakable smell of sweat. Evelyn didn’t even blink. The tears finally spilled over, scalding my skin and burning deep into my chest. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to scream at her. I was terrified of the finality of it. I wanted to run, to pretend tonight was nothing but a nightmare. But dreams eventually end. Greg mumbled, “Evelyn…” As Evelyn leaned over to buckle his seatbelt, Greg pulled her in for a sloppy, wet kiss. Evelyn merely patted his hand away with a soft chuckle. “Behave.” My heart fractured piece by piece. The pain finally pierced my soul, tearing me apart. Evelyn had a severe germophobia. If I so much as touched her hand without using sanitizer first, she would immediately flinch away. Yet here she was, letting a drunk, sweaty man kiss her without a hint of disgust. I looked down at my own hands. I could still smell the chemical scent of hand sanitizer on my skin, mixing with the heavy alcohol fumes in the car, making me physically sick. I rolled down the window to breathe, but Evelyn immediately rolled it back up, throwing me a disapproving look. “Greg is drunk and sweating. He’ll catch a cold if the wind hits him.” A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “So you do know how to care for someone.” Evelyn frowned. “Drop the sarcasm. I told you, I will explain everything.” As she drove, Greg suddenly lunged across the console, grabbing her to kiss her again. Just then, a car in the adjacent lane tried to overtake them. With her vision blocked, Evelyn swerved violently. The rear of the car slammed hard into the overtaking vehicle. The impact threw me violently against the side panel. Glass shattered, and my head slammed against the steel frame. Warm blood instantly began trickling down my face. Yet, compared to the physical blow, the pain in my chest was blinding. I realized right then that I didn’t need her explanation anymore. I didn’t need anything from her ever again. The other driver got out, screaming curses, but Greg remained dazed, clutching Evelyn’s arm. Evelyn frowned, gently pulling her arm free, and glanced back at me. “Can you walk?” she asked. I stared at her, blood dripping from my forehead. “Take Greg to the hospital,” she said, stepping out of the car. “Make sure you look after him.” I looked at my blood-soaked reflection in the window and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Evelyn, are you blind?” “Look at me. How can you say that with a straight face?” Evelyn stared at me, startled. I was always quiet, introverted, and soft-spoken. This was the first time I had ever raised my voice at her. She glared back at me, her voice cold. “This is a life-or-death situation. Stop throwing tantrums.” She slammed the door shut. I dragged myself out of the backseat, opened the front passenger door, and helped Greg out, desperately waving down a taxi on the side of the road. But the moment we slid into the backseat of the cab, before I could even catch my breath, Greg’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and entirely sober. “You saw it yourself, Gavin. Are you ready to back off now?” I whipped my head around. The drunken haze was completely gone from his eyes. Under the passing streetlights, his expression was cool and calculating. “You were faking it?” I whispered. Greg sighed, looking at me. “Yeah.” “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” He shook his head, looking at me as if I were a child. “Gavin, don’t be naive. I know exactly what I’m doing.” “Evelyn is young, successful, gorgeous, and incredibly loyal. Who wouldn’t want her?” “The fact that you’ve been with her for eight years and still haven’t walked down the aisle only proves one thing: she doesn’t love you.” The driver pulled over. “We’re here, guys.” I opened the door, but my knees buckled, and I nearly collapsed onto the pavement. I stared at Greg’s smug, self-satisfied face. “You’re wrong, Greg.” “She isn’t loyal.” “If she could throw away eight years with me for you, she’ll throw you away the moment someone else comes along.” Greg smirked, a cruel, mocking laugh escaping him. “You really are an idiot, Gavin. She’s pregnant. She’s not going anywhere.” The words hit me like a physical blow. Rage surged through my veins, hot and blinding. The mere thought of having touched him made my stomach churn with disgust. My hand moved faster than my brain, delivering a stinging slap across Greg’s face. “You disgusting bastard!” But a second later, the screech of tires echoed behind us. Evelyn’s car pulled up to the curb. She sprinted out, throwing herself between us, pushing me away as she checked Greg’s swollen cheek with sheer panic. When she looked up at me, her eyes burned with a viciousness I recognized instantly. It wasn’t the look of a girlfriend of eight years; it was the ruthless gaze she reserved for her worst corporate rivals. She pointed directly at the security camera above the hospital entrance. “Apologize! Right now, or I’m calling the cops. You know I can have you locked up for a few days.” I let out a hollow laugh. “Go ahead. Lock me up. Maybe I can finally get some peace.” Evelyn sneered. “And what about your mother?” “Lest you forget, I’m the one paying for her care facility. If she finds out her son is in a jail cell…” My heart stopped. I stared at her, seeing only cold, calculating leverage in her eyes. A suffocating wave of humiliation washed over me. I bit my tongue so hard the taste of copper filled my mouth, fighting back the sob rising in my throat. My knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists. “I’m sorry.” “Slap yourself ten times,” Evelyn ordered coldly. I stared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing. She looked back at me, detached. “An eye for an eye, Gavin. It’s only fair.” I raised my hand. When the first blow struck my cheek, my numb heart shuddered. Watching the two of them standing side by side, I finally accepted the truth: I was out. By the tenth slap, my face was entirely numb, the pain dull and familiar. A vast, empty despair swallowed me whole, leaving me like a broken boat adrift in a dark ocean. “Are we done?” my voice was barely a whisper. Evelyn nodded once. I turned and walked toward the hospital entrance, tears spilling down my face. I tried to wipe them away, telling myself over and over. Don’t cry. Don’t let them see you like this. But a darker voice answered back. You’re already a joke, Gavin. You’ve been one all along. Yes, a pathetic joke, betrayed by the two people I trusted most in the world. But was I really going to just let them walk away into the sunset? Was I going to let them step on me forever? Was I going to let Evelyn hold my mother over my head like a leash? I pulled out my phone and dialed Evelyn’s chief competitor. Monica’s playful, amused voice came through the line. “Well, well, Mr. Gavin. To what do I owe the pleasure? Finally looking for a new girlfriend?” I took a ragged breath. “Do you want Evelyn’s upcoming product designs for next quarter? I’m the lead designer, and I haven’t signed the release forms yet. If you want them, they’re yours.” The playful tone vanished instantly. “What do you want in exchange?” “Get me and my mother out of this city,” I whispered. “And destroy Evelyn’s company.” “Consider it done, Gavin.” As the doctor stitched up my head, two nurses whispered nearby. “The couple in the ER earlier was so sweet. The girl looked so stunned when she found out she was pregnant, she couldn’t even speak.” “Right? They looked so perfect together.” I closed my eyes, a bitter smile playing on my lips. Perfect. A pair of matching snakes. The doctor looked at my chart, his brow furrowing. “Mr. Gavin, your head injury is quite severe. You need absolute rest.” The next day, I went to the care facility to pack my mother’s things. As she massaged my temples, her eyes filled with worry. “You look so tired, sweetheart. Don’t push yourself so hard. If the designs aren’t finished, they aren’t finished. Your boss is your girlfriend, isn’t she? Surely she won’t fire you.” A sharp pain stabbed my chest. I threw my arms around her and sobbed. Startled, she gently patted my back. “I’m fine, Mom,” I choked out. “Just stressed.” “Once I’m feeling a bit better, let’s take a trip to Lake Tahoe,” she smiled, squeezing my hand. But when I returned from buying lunch that afternoon, the head nurse ran toward me, her face pale. “Mr. Gavin! Thank god you’re back. Your mother… she fell from the balcony!” The food containers crashed to the floor. I ran toward the ICU, my legs giving out before I could reach the doors. I could still feel the warmth of her hands on my forehead, but when I opened my eyes, there was only the cold, sterile steel door of the operating room. My stomach churned violently. I fell to my knees, praying to whatever god was listening, begging to trade my own life for hers. Four hours later, the doors slid open. The surgeon pulled off his mask and slowly shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Gavin. We did everything we could.” A wave of nausea hit me, and I threw up right there on the linoleum floor, unable to stop. The world spun on its axis. I grabbed the doctor’s collar, trying to scream, but no sound came out. I went back to her empty room. The breeze blew through the open window, the bed still holding a faint trace of her warmth. I picked up her phone. The very last call on her log was to Greg. What did he say to her? Why did she jump? Grief curdled into an icy, blinding rage. I didn’t care about the consequences anymore. I wanted to look into Greg’s eyes and force the truth out of him. I stormed into Greg’s office building. The receptionist smirked when I asked for him. “You’ll have to wait. Mr. Greg’s fiancée is visiting him. They’re… busy.” Muffled, intimate sounds drifted from the executive office, like needles pressing into my skull. Let it go? Play nice? How long had I played nice? I grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher from the wall and slammed it into the glass door. “Greg! Get your ass out here! Can’t you two wait until you’re off the clock to be disgusting?” The glass shattered. Inside, Greg and Evelyn were scrambling to button their clothes, their faces red with panic. Evelyn marched toward me, her eyes blazing. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I swung my hand, landing a fierce slap across her face. “What is wrong with me? Evelyn, look in the mirror.” I lunged forward, grabbing Greg by his tie, dragging him over his desk. “What did you say to my mother? Why did she jump? Tell me!” Greg avoided my eyes, shouting, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Security! Get him out of here!” The office staff gathered outside the door, whispering. “Is the manager getting dragged by his mistress’s boyfriend?” “Who knows? He always acted so high and mighty…” Greg looked at Evelyn, pleading. Evelyn stepped in and slapped me hard across the face. “Calm down!” Greg began to squeeze out fake tears. “Gavin! I always treated you like a brother! Why are you doing this now that my fiancée is pregnant? Can’t you just let us be happy?” The whispers outside shifted instantly. “Oh, I get it! He’s trying to steal his best friend’s woman!” “So pathetic. Evelyn comes here every day. Who does this guy think he is?” I stared at Evelyn. “Tell them, Evelyn. Who is the homewrecker here?” Evelyn bit her lip. Finally, she looked away. “I’m pregnant with Greg’s child.” Someone threw a crumpled piece of trash at me from the hallway. “Get out of here, you creep! She doesn’t want you!” “Where the hell is security?” Three security guards broke through the crowd, slamming me onto the floor and pinning my arms behind my back. One of the guards spat, “I hate homewreckers. Let’s strip this trash and show everyone what he really is!” Hands grabbed at my clothes, ripping the buttons from my collar. Cold, greasy fingers pawed at my skin, making me want to vomit. Through the gap in the crowd, my eyes met Greg’s. He was smiling, a look of pure, triumphant malice on his face. “He’s actually in great shape,” someone mocked. “Look at those abs.” “Let me get a turn.” Just as despair threatened to swallow me whole, a sharp voice cut through the chaos. “Police! Back off!” In the precinct, Greg was sobbing dramatically. “He assaulted us! He needs to be locked up!” The officer turned to Evelyn. “Ms. Evelyn, this seems like a domestic dispute. Do you really want to…” Greg clutched Evelyn’s hand, resting his palm on her stomach. “Evelyn, are you and the baby okay?” Evelyn looked at me, a momentary flicker of guilt in her eyes, but she quickly masked it. “We broke up. He has no right to be here.” I looked back at her, but there were no tears left in me. Too much had happened. I felt like a dying tree, its leaves falling one by one until only a hollow trunk remained. A dry, metallic taste filled my mouth. Just then, a sharp, confident voice echoed from the lobby. “Oh, please, Evelyn. Have some shame, will you?” “You say you broke up, but you were calling him your husband just two days ago.” “Karma is a bitch, darling. If you don’t believe me, open your phone and check your company’s stock. It’s looking a little red today.” Evelyn froze, her eyes widening as she spun around. But my gaze was already fixed on the door.

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1 For my birthday, I booked a private banquet room at the finest hotel in town. The guests, friends, and colleagues had all arrived, and the atmosphere was perfect. But just as the dinner was about to begin, the hotel host smiled and tapped the microphone. “Next up, let’s welcome our two birthday stars to the stage!” I froze. Two? Then, Becca, a colleague notorious around the office for her cheap, freeloading ways, walked up to the stage with a beaming smile. “Surprise, everyone! Naomi and I actually planned this together. Our birthdays are on the exact same day, so we figured, why not share the party? The more the merrier!” She turned to me, her voice dripping with mock warmth. “Right, babe? We’re practically sisters. Today’s feast is on us, so please, don’t hold back!” She smiled sweetly, clearly betting that with the company executives watching, I wouldn’t dare make a scene to call her out. Looking at the party I had poured my heart and hard-earned money into designing, only to have her hijack it, a cold sneer formed in my chest. Fine. Since she loved celebrating her birthday so much, I would make sure today became a day she would never forget as long as she lived. Listening to Becca’s shameless speech, I trembled with rage. When had I ever agreed to share my birthday? I stood up, preparing to object, but the senior executives in the front row were already leading a round of applause. “Wonderful concept! It’s both economical and lively. Our younger staff really know how to think outside the box.” “The venue looks stunning too. Since the organizer has such talent, maybe we should hand over the company’s annual gala to our younger employees next year.” Hearing this, Becca’s eyes lit up. She nodded eagerly, taking full credit for the planning without a shred of hesitation. I was utterly dumbfounded. Not only had she hijacked my party, but she was also stealing my work as a stepping stone to boost her own career. We weren’t even close, let alone friends. I couldn’t let this slide. I took a step forward, ready to storm the stage, but my immediate supervisor grabbed my wrist. He had clearly sensed the tension and knew something was off, but he hissed a quiet warning in my ear. “Naomi, I don’t care what’s going on here, but you cannot make a scene right now. Those executives are from headquarters, and they absolutely despise office politics. If you ruin this event, not only will you be fired, but our entire branch will suffer the consequences.” His words felt like a bucket of ice water, completely extinguishing my hot rage. I froze. Marcus was right. I had spent so much money on this dinner to make a good impression on the higher-ups and secure a promotion. If I blew things up now, even if I exposed Becca, my career at the firm would be finished. But swallowing this bitter pill felt like choking on glass. Before I could figure out what to do, Becca called my name. She smiled and pulled me up onto the stage, playing the generous mentor who loved supporting the younger generation. “And here is my dear friend, Naomi, who shares this special day with me! She’s still a junior, but she’s incredibly sharp. She was a huge help in bringing my vision to life.” With a few sweet words, she erased all my effort, framing my hard work as merely helping her, while presenting herself as the benevolent senior sharing the spotlight. The executives looked at her with growing admiration. In their eyes, Becca was already a highly capable, generous mentor. My throat felt dry, but under the gaze of the corporate elite, I could only plaster on a fake smile and nod. When that agonizing segment finally ended, I rushed backstage to find my work friends to vent, but they avoided my gaze, slipping away like I was infectious. 2 They whispered behind my back. “I can’t believe Naomi. Why didn’t she tell us she was sharing the party with Becca? She told us not to bring cash gifts, so we only bought a small present for her. Now we look incredibly awkward in front of Becca.” “Honestly, she seems so calculating. Her family always seemed well-off, but she’s just as cheap as Becca. Maybe that’s how she saves her money, by freeloading off others.” My chest tightened. They already saw us as birds of a feather. The office relationships I had spent months carefully nurturing had vanished in a single instant. Trembling with frustration, I grabbed a passing server. “What is going on here? Who gave you permission to add another person to my booking?” The server looked bewildered. After checking my original booking and communication logs, her face grew serious, and she apologized profusely. “I am so sorry, Ms. Naomi. Our staff must have made a terrible error. Please wait here. I’ll get the manager to clear this up immediately.” I stood there, arms crossed, waiting for a proper explanation. Soon, the manager walked over, his expression stiff. Before I could even start complaining, he cut me off with an irritated tone. “Ms. Naomi, we’ve reviewed the situation. There has been no error on our end. Ms. Becca came to us this morning and explicitly told us this was a shared party. We even scrambled to add extra staff, and we didn’t even charge you for the extra labor. We’ve been more than accommodating. Besides, if you didn’t agree to it, why didn’t you say anything on stage?” I stared at him, my anger boiling over. “Are you serious right now? Your staff made a massive blunder, and now you’re blaming me for not starting a fistfight in front of my company’s board of directors? Anyone can just walk in, claim they share a reservation, and you don’t even bother to verify it with the person who paid the deposit? Is this how a luxury hotel operates?” The manager stuttered, unable to find a logical excuse under my fierce gaze. Instead, he resorted to condescending lecturing. “Look, young lady, why must you be so difficult? Life is about relationships. Your colleague just got praised by the executives, meaning her future is bright. Instead of using this chance to build a connection, you’re here trying to pick a fight over petty details. Besides, didn’t you get the party you paid for? The venue, the food, the service, it’s all here. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” I could barely believe my ears. Not only were they refusing to fix their mistake, but they were actually lecturing me on business etiquette. “What did I get? Why should I spend my hard-earned money just so someone else can ride my coattails for free? Your hotel completely breached the contract we signed! Either you offer me a reasonable compensation plan right now, or I demand a full refund!” The moment “full refund” left my mouth, the manager’s face darkened, and he let out a sneering laugh. “I knew it. A young girl like you couldn’t actually afford a banquet of this scale. You’re just trying to find an excuse to scam us out of a free meal, aren’t you?” Just then, Becca walked over, wearing a sickeningly sweet, placating smile. “Oh, Naomi, don’t ruin a perfectly good birthday by fighting. The manager is right. You got your party, so demanding a refund is just cheap. We can’t behave like freeloaders, can we?” The manager nodded eagerly. “Exactly! Ms. Becca is far more reasonable. No wonder the executives like her.” The two of them stood there, tag-teaming to gaslight me, completely ignoring the rage radiating from me. “Manager, is it time to bring out the cake? Everyone is waiting,” Becca asked. The manager turned to order the staff, but I snapped, “What cake? That cake was custom-made for my birthday, and I paid for it. Who said you could serve it? I don’t consent!” Becca grabbed my arm, her tone dripping with mock sisterly correction. “Come on, Naomi, stop acting like a spoiled brat. I told you, we’re sharing. I brought a cake too. We’ll bring them both out, blow the candles together, and make it twice as fun!” Despite my sharp refusal, the manager rolled his eyes and barked at a nearby server. “What are you standing there for? Go bring the cakes out! If you waste any more time, I’m docking your pay for the month!” Terrified of losing her salary, the server scurried away. Before I could argue further, the pastry carts were rolled into the banquet hall. Leading the way was my custom-made, five-tier birthday cake, covered in intricate frosting and delicate sugar flowers. But right behind it, resting in a giant, greasy stainless steel mixing basin, was a pile of dry, cheap, yellow grocery-store sponge muffins. 3 The guests stared in absolute silence at the giant steel basin of dry yellow muffins. I wanted to laugh from sheer rage. I turned to Becca. “Is this what you called a cake? Who brings a metal basin of cheap muffins to a high-end banquet?” Becca gasped, looking offended. “Naomi, how can you say that? A cake is a cake! Back in my parents’ day, getting an egg on your birthday was a luxury! Your cake looks fancy, but it’s probably packed with artificial colors and chemical preservatives. I didn’t even criticize you for bringing such unhealthy food to our colleagues, and now you’re judging my muffins?” Furious at her twisted logic, I shook her hand off my arm and headed toward the stage to wheel my custom cake away. But before I could even climb the stairs, Becca shouted into the microphone. “Oh, Naomi! You’re so eager to cut the cake! I get it, you’re young, and seeing such a pretty cake is exciting. Since you’re so enthusiastic, I’ll let you do the honors of slicing it for everyone!” With those sweet words, she effectively claimed my custom five-tier cake as her own. To the crowd, it now looked like I was the one who had brought a giant basin of cheap muffins to share. The looks of disgust and confusion from my colleagues intensified. No one could understand why anyone would bring a dog bowl of dry sponge muffins to a professional gathering. Becca walked onto the stage, took the silver cake knife, and began cutting my expensive cake. I watched in silence as she sliced the finest, most beautifully decorated portions of my cake and served them directly to the senior executives and managers, eager to curry favor. Meanwhile, the regular staff were handed the dry, yellow muffins from the metal basin, some of which had been clumsily scooped out with a metal spoon, looking like mashed potatoes. My colleagues stared at the dry muffins on their plates, their faces grim. Nobody took a single bite. They only remained in the room out of respect for the executives, not because they wanted to celebrate with us. I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. My money, my planning, and my special night had been ruined, and I had managed to alienate half the office because of her stunt. The executives took a few polite bites of my cake, their estimation of Becca rising even higher. Becca liked to play poor, but her family wasn’t actually broke. The heavy gold chains and rings she wore today were particularly flashy. The executives, unfamiliar with her reputation, assumed she was the one who had ordered the gorgeous five-tier cake. One of them looked at me and offered a patronizing lecture. “Naomi, it’s great that you wanted to celebrate with your colleagues, but you shouldn’t compromise on quality just because of your personal budget.” “This is just a private party, so a basin of muffins is fine. But if you handle a company gala like this in the future, it would reflect poorly on our firm.” The anger finally broke through. I opened my mouth to defend myself. “Actually, that cake was—” Before I could finish, Becca lunged forward, her elbow slamming violently into my ribs. The sharp pain took my breath away. She quickly turned to the executive, smiling warmly. “Please don’t mind her, sir. Junior staff often lack experience with these things. Don’t worry, I’ll mentor her closely to make sure she doesn’t make this kind of mistake again.” Then, she turned to me, her voice dripping with mock sisterly teasing that firmly pinned the blame on me. “Naomi, you’ll have to make it up to everyone with some real cakes next week, okay? Otherwise, nobody will want to work with you!” Staring at the judging eyes of my colleagues and the dismissive nods of the executives, I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and ran out of the banquet hall. Standing in the cool night air outside the hotel, I took several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Becca wanted to share my birthday so badly? Fine. Since I had already paid the deposit, it was only fair that she handled the rest of the bill.

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1 When the fire broke out, the video of Scott rushing into the flames to die with his true love went viral overnight. While the public mourned their tragic romance, some noticed me—trapped in the same burning building, pinned under a collapsed beam, legs twisted at a grotesque angle. In the footage, I stared blankly through smoke as they kissed, my ash-stained fingers trembling while dialing emergency services. “Lmao, that bystander looks traumatized. Watching them kiss probably killed her will to live.” “She looks like a clown who wandered onto a teen drama set.” “I want a love like that—reckless, world-ending, ignoring everyone else.” Scott must have read the comments. He called, rubbing his temples, voice lazy. “Sorry, babe. Didn’t realize you were there. Nancy said she’d never been kissed and begged me before we died. Didn’t expect the media frenzy. Hurt? Need me to pick you up?” I was limping out of the hospital, leaning on a cheap crutch. “It’s fine,” I said quietly. Fine that he hadn’t noticed me. Fine that he didn’t see me hobble past his sports car meters away. Fine that he forgot today was our wedding day. Because I’d already replaced him with a new groom. My new groom was already on his way to pick me up. Watching the GPS tracker on my phone as his car closed the distance, I felt a quiet wave of relief. Then, Scott’s phone line suddenly erupted with laughter from his friends in the background. “Scott, man, you need to start a masterclass. How did you get the proud Vivian to be this submissive?” “Right? You literally skipped your own wedding today to hang out with Nancy, and she didn’t even throw a fit!” My eyelashes fluttered at the sound of my name, but Scott remained silent on the other end. Just as I was about to hang up, his soft chuckle came through the receiver. “Well, looks like I went too far this time. My sweet fiancée is giving me the silent treatment. She is learning to play hard to get.” His tone carried zero worry, only a patronizing amusement at my new tactic. For years, my dependence on him had bordered on obsession, and my methods of showing it had been painfully predictable. If he was thirty minutes late, I would spam his phone with a hundred calls. If there was a trace of lipstick on his collar, I would scream, cry, and shred his designer shirts to pieces. He enjoyed the chase, fully convinced this was just another dramatic performance to get his attention. “Anyway, Nancy is waiting for her seafood chowder,” Scott said, dismissive. “She is just a poor student I sponsor. She has no one else in this city, and I promised I would look after her today.” His friends went quiet, exchange uneasy glances. “Wait, Gav, you’re serious? We thought you were just messing with your girl.” “You’ve postponed this wedding eight times, always because of Nancy. But ditching her on the actual wedding day? Aren’t you worried she’ll actually walk away this time?” “Does she look like she could ever leave me?” Scott replied, his voice light and arrogant. “Besides, the smoke got to my head. It’s only natural I forgot the ceremony. I’ll make it up to her later.” Their voices continued to filter through the speaker. When I heard the words seafood chowder, my heart gave a dull ache. Nancy had only arrived in the city yesterday. During her first meal, she had simply had two bowls of chowder, and Scott had immediately memorized her preference. I stared at the screen, watching the call timer tick upward. It was amusing how he still hadn’t realized I was still on the line. “Don’t mention to Vivian that I’m at the hospital with Nancy,” Scott added, a trace of amusement slipping into his voice. “My fiancée has quite the temper. If she found out I faked forgetting the wedding just to nurse Nancy, she’d probably burn our house down.” I curled my lips into a bitter smile. This time, I didn’t wait for him to finish. I hung up. When Scott walked into the hospital lobby carrying the food, a crowd of reporters swarmed the entrance. The sudden noise made him look back, his gaze lazily sweeping in my direction. My chest tightened. But before our eyes could meet, a dozen cameras thrust into my face, blinding me with flashes. “Excuse me, are you the bystander who witnessed that viral kiss of true love?” “What was it like seeing such a powerful romance unfold right in front of you? Can you share your thoughts?” I looked through the crowd again. Scott had already turned away, walking deeper into the hospital corridors. His suit jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder, a posture that mirrored the eighteen-year-old boy who had once leaned against a brick wall to shield me. Back then, after taking the brunt of my abusive uncle’s rage for me, Scott had slung his blood-stained jacket over his shoulder just like this, smiling to comfort me. “Stop crying, okay? My bad. I promise you, as long as I’m around, I’ll never let my precious princess get hurt again.” The throbbing pain in my leg snapped me back to reality. My phone buzzed. A message from the new groom: Almost there. I withdrew my gaze, leaned heavily on my crutch to steady myself, and looked directly into the camera lenses. “I wish them a long and happy life together.” In an instant, the sound of shutters and overlapping questions threatened to drown me. I stumbled, my injured leg giving out under the pressure. But before I could fall, a strong, steady hand caught my waist. “Sorry, everyone. She is in a bit of a rush to marry me today. No time for interviews.” The clean, familiar scent of cedarwood enveloped me. I blinked and looked up, meeting Dominic’s amused, dark eyes. Within seconds, he had dismissed the reporters with a few sharp, polite words. He swept me up onto his back, effortlessly snatching the wooden crutch from my hand and tossing it into a nearby bin. “Vivian, did you seriously find a broken table leg in the street and decide it was a crutch?” I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face into the crook of his neck, remaining silent. Sensing my mood, his grip on my thighs tightened, and he softened his tone. “The bone specialist I flew in from Zurich is already waiting. Let’s get your leg checked first. Don’t worry about the venue; everything is set. Once the doctor clears you, the limo will pick us up.” “Okay,” I mumbled. Before I could say anything else, a group of interns walked past, whispering excitedly. “Is Scott really with that girl Nancy? I thought his fiancée was someone else.” “Are you stupid? If it were fake, he would have denied it. Look at how he carried her out of the ward just because she sprained her ankle. He wouldn’t let her take a single step. Now that’s real love.” We followed the sound of their voices down the corridor and saw Scott. Nancy was cradled in his arms, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck, her face buried shyly against his chest. Dominic carried me past them. The hallway was narrow, and we passed so closely that our clothes brushed. Scott’s eyes swept over us carelessly, but he didn’t stop. He leaned down to whisper something in Nancy’s ear, making her giggle. “You skipped your wedding for me today, leaving Vivian alone at the venue,” Nancy murmured. “Aren’t you worried she’ll be heartbroken, or angry?” “No, I did it on purpose,” Scott replied. “Don’t you think it’s fun when she throws those tantrums? Besides, she slapped you last time and embarrassed you in public. You asked me when I’d get back at her, right? This is it. She is too spoiled. If I’m going to marry her, I need to teach her some humility first.” My fingers tightened around Dominic’s collar until my knuckles turned white. Scott’s friends finally caught up, panting heavily. “But Gav, what if she actually marries someone else out of spite? You know how these old-money families are. They’ll grab a random stand-in just to save face.” Scott let out a quiet laugh. “Please. No one else could ever catch her eye. With her temper, if her family tried to force a substitute groom on her, she’d probably wreck the entire banquet hall.” The group burst into laughter, their chuckles echoing off the tiled walls like slaps to my face. The humiliation was suffocating, making me want to vanish. I tugged at Dominic’s collar. “Let’s go, please.” “Dominic?” The familiar voice stopped us in our tracks. I froze entirely, but Dominic remained perfectly calm, turning slowly to face Scott. “Yeah, it’s me.” Scott looked Dominic up and down, raising an eyebrow. “When did you get back to the States?” “Just came back to get married,” Dominic replied smoothly. He gestured slightly toward me. “Meet my fiancée.” Scott’s gaze drifted over to me, but I kept my face buried in Dominic’s shoulder, hiding completely. After a tense silence, Scott let out a slow breath. “Well, look at you, settling down. I thought you’d be the last of us to tie the knot. Congratulations.” Dominic offered a faint, unreadable smile. Before turning away, he slipped a gold-embossed card into Scott’s hand. “Here is the address. The reception is tonight.” Scott looked down at the invitation. The address felt strangely familiar. He looked back at the girl on Dominic’s back, a sudden frown crossing his features. “Wait.” My heart hammered against my ribs, terrified he had recognized me. But in the next second, Scott turned to a passing nurse. “Wait. It’s time to change Nancy’s dressings.” I closed my eyes, realizing how foolish I had been to hold my breath. After my checkup was complete and my leg was freshly bandaged, I finally sat in the back of the wedding limo. My phone vibrated with a text from Scott. The doctor said you got hurt too. Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t reply. Twenty minutes later, another message arrived. Since you’re discharged, go straight home. I’ll worry, wifey. I stared at the word wifey. It was his signature peace offering. I let out a dry laugh, marveling at how perfectly he manipulated my feelings. It reminded me of a night long ago. I had spent hours setting up a romantic dinner, hoping to take our relationship to the next level. The candles were burning low, and the wine was poured. But when his lips were inches from mine, his thumb had gently brushed my chin, pulling back. “We should save this for our wedding night, Vivian. I want to respect you, wifey.” The warmth in his eyes back then had felt so genuine, so protective. I had believed he was the most honorable man in the world. Until a few months later, when I accidentally overheard him talking to his friends at a lounge. “Gav, you and Nancy have crossed every line, but you won’t even touch Vivian? Are you really saving her for marriage, or do you just find her repulsive?” Scott had paused, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “I can’t help it. Every time I think about how her uncle cornered her when she was eighteen, it just makes my skin crawl. Since she is already damaged goods, it is only fair that I have some fun before the wedding, right?” At that moment, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. The trauma of my eighteenth year, the locked parlor room, the spiked drink, and my desperate, failed struggle before Scott broke the door down, all of it came rushing back. He had saved me, yes, but he had secretly judged me for the nightmare I couldn’t escape. Since that day, I had stopped fighting with him. I had stopped calling. But he had been too self-absorbed to notice the silence. As the stylist finished securing my veil, my phone rang again. It was Scott. “The fire left me a bit dazed, so I lost track of the date,” his voice came through the speaker, slow and deliberate. “It’s too late for me to make it to the venue now. So, do you want to keep sitting there in your gown like an idiot, or go home and rest? It’s your call.” He was waiting. He was waiting for me to scream, to cry, to beg him to come. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my lipstick. “It’s fine, Scott. Actually, I—” A loud crash of shattering glass cut me off on his end, followed by Nancy’s sharp cry. Scott’s tone lost all of its calm composure. “We’ll talk tonight.” The line went dead. I stared at the screen, finding it almost funny. I had wanted to tell him that our engagement had been officially dissolved by my family, and that my groom had been replaced. I wasn’t waiting for him, and I was never going back to his house. But I suppose it didn’t matter anymore. I smiled at my reflection, gathered the skirt of my wedding dress, and walked out of the dressing room. My wedding with Dominic proceeded exactly as scheduled. While the ceremony was underway, Scott was finally tucking Nancy into bed after feeding her dinner. When his phone rang, he answered it casually. But the words from the speaker froze him instantly. “Scott, are you playing some kind of sick joke on us? Didn’t you say the wedding was postponed?” “Did you secretly decide to go through with it because she looked too beautiful in her dress? We’re looking at her right now!” “By the way, Dominic is getting married tonight too, right across the hall from you. Did you guys plan this? You’re literally having competing receptions across the corridor!”

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1 My ten-year-old daughter went on a school trip to the reservoir. Her classmates dragged her to the intake pipe and held her under. When I saw the water turn pink, I lost my mind and pulled her out. Her face was mangled by the grate’s suction. She coughed up blood and stopped breathing. The ringleader sneered that she was a minor and untouchable. “I hated her anyway. Why did she always beat my scores?” Her mother tossed a handkerchief of cash at my feet. “Two grand. More than enough for your brat’s cheap life.” Grief and rage consumed me. I demanded justice, but my husband held me back. “She’s already dead, Lynn. Do you want to ruin another child’s life?” I fought desperately, but the bully got only months in juvie. It wasn’t enough. Broken, I took a bottle of pills at my daughter’s grave. I woke up on the morning of the field trip. I dragged my daughter home, but history repeated itself—another girl drowned in the reservoir that day. … We had run away from the reservoir in such a panic that my daughter, Lily, left her sandals behind. I told her to wait for me at the edge of town while I went back to grab them. I also planned to warn the town council that the safety grate on the spillway was broken. As I approached the water, a chorus of cruel laughter echoed through the trees. “Look at her! She looks like a dead fish. Come on, move! Why aren’t you moving? Hahaha!” Three girls were laughing hysterically. The tallest one, Ruby, was pressing her foot down hard on a patch of blue fabric beneath the surface of the water. Seeing that blue floral pattern, the exact same dress Lily was wearing today, made my heart skip a beat. The faint red tint swirling in the water almost made me pass out. If I did not know for a fact that my daughter was safely waiting for me down the road, I would never have been able to face this nightmare again. In my past life, Ruby had murdered my daughter out of pure, petty jealousy. Lily had beaten her in the state math exams and found more shells than her during a beach trip. That was all it took for Ruby to kill her. So who was this girl in the water? And what was her supposed crime? I did not have time to think. Saving a life was the only thing that mattered. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Stop! What the hell are you doing?!” Ruby looked up, saw me, and casually took a half-step back with a raised eyebrow. “Oh look, the mother hen is here to protect her chicks. I guess the fun is over.” The other two girls jumped back like startled rabbits, refusing to meet my eyes. The girl in the water was pinned violently against the intake pipe. The massive suction force had her face pressed flush against the iron grate. Her limbs floated lifelessly in the current. This was exactly how I found my daughter in my past life. I had thrown myself into the water to pull her out, but the suction was too strong. I could not move her. By the time the locals ran over and shut off the main valve, the golden window for CPR had long passed. My daughter died right in my arms. Looking at the blue floral dress, the braided hair, the small frame… I had to keep repeating it in my head. This is not Lily. Lily is safe. Lily is waiting for me. But my hands were still shaking uncontrollably. Relying on the tragic experience of my past life, I turned to the bystanders who were just staring in shock. “What are you standing there for? Can’t you see someone is stuck on the grate? Go shut off the main valve right now!” A few men finally snapped out of their daze and sprinted toward the control shed. Minutes later, I hauled the girl’s limp body onto the concrete bank. Her face was swollen and distorted beyond recognition. She had absolutely no breath left. I could not find a pulse. Ruby stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest. A faint, sickening smile played on her lips. “She told us she could hold her breath for three minutes straight. We were just helping her practice.” “Helping her?” My eyes went entirely red. I lunged forward and slapped Ruby across the face as hard as I could. “You pinned her head against an industrial suction pipe and you call that helping?!” Ruby clutched her stinging cheek and glared at me with pure venom. “We were just playing around! How was I supposed to know she was so fragile?” “You actually dared to hit me? Do you know who my dad is? Believe me, I will have my dad destroy your entire family!” I knew exactly who her dad was. That was why I wanted to tear her arrogant little face right off. “Playing? Is this how you play? You just murdered someone! Do you understand that?!” The chubby girl standing next to Ruby finally realized the gravity of the situation. Her voice trembled violently. “Ruby, did we just…” Before she could finish, Ruby snapped at her. “Did we what? You were pushing her down just as hard as I was!” The third girl immediately burst into terrified tears. “I… I want to go home…” I ignored them. I laid the drowned girl flat on her back and immediately started chest compressions. I yelled at the nearest local. “Go get Dr. Evans from the clinic! Hurry! We might still be able to save her!” I tilted the girl’s chin back to start rescue breaths. As I did, my eyes caught a distinct, dark red birthmark shaped like a plum blossom behind her ear. Something clicked in my memory. Just then, Jenkins, the old man who managed the reservoir, came strolling down the dirt path. Right beside him was Patricia, Ruby’s wealthy mother. When they saw the gruesome scene by the water, panic washed over their faces. “What… what happened here?!” Jenkins stammered. Ruby instantly dropped her arrogant act. She put on a terrified, innocent face and ran crying into her mother’s arms. “Mom! We were just having a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest! She said she could do three minutes, we didn’t know…” “This is ridiculous!” Jenkins turned pale. “I have told you kids a million times not to swim here without an adult!” “I am sorry, I promise I will never do it again,” Ruby sniffled, looking down. Then she peeked up at me and smirked. “But this crazy lady had no right to hit me!” Patricia saw the bright red handprint on her daughter’s cheek. She pointed a manicured finger right at my nose. “Who the hell gave you the right to touch my daughter?” She cast a look of utter disgust at the dying girl on the ground, then glared back at me. “This brat broke the rules and swam where she wasn’t supposed to. Her parents clearly don’t know how to watch their own kid. You can’t blame anyone else for an accident like this, can you?” In my past life, multiple witnesses confirmed that my daughter had just taken her shoes off by the water when Ruby shoved her in from behind. Then all three of them dragged her to the pipe and held her down. I knew this girl’s final moments must have been exactly the same. I knew the absolute hell of losing a child. Regardless of who this little girl was, she was completely innocent. Every second mattered. I did not want to waste my breath arguing with Patricia. I kept pumping the girl’s chest and shot a sharp glare at Jenkins. “You are the caretaker, Jenkins. You are liable for this too. You better call the child’s parents right now.” 2 Jenkins trembled violently and started backing away. He stammered out his agreement. “Right, right. I will go call the town mayor…” A few seconds later, he stopped and looked back at the girl’s swollen, disfigured face. “Her face is ruined. How am I supposed to know whose kid this is?” I looked up at him in absolute disbelief. “Are you incapable of checking? Just count how many kids were supposed to be on this field trip. Subtract the ones who are safe, subtract these three standing right here, and whoever is left…” Ruby suddenly interrupted me. “You don’t need to check. I know exactly who it is.” She walked right up to me and crouched down. She stared closely at the dead girl’s face. Her voice was quiet, but every word stabbed into my ears like a needle. “This is Lily. Have you honestly forgotten what your own kid looks like?” “You were acting so crazy a minute ago. I thought you already knew. Or are you just refusing to accept reality?” I stared at her, my eyes wide. So that was it. She saw the blue dress and thought she was drowning my daughter. That was why she was so ruthless. Ruby seemed incredibly satisfied by the shock on my face. Seeing that I was still doing chest compressions, she laughed. “Stop wasting your energy. Have you noticed she hasn’t reacted at all for the past twenty minutes?” “It took way longer than ten minutes for you to pull her out of that pipe. The golden window for saving her is long gone.” Hearing those words, all the strength drained from my arms. I collapsed onto the concrete, my whole body shaking. Was I still too late? I failed to save my own daughter in my past life, and now I had failed to save this innocent girl too. I glared at Ruby with absolute hatred. “Why would you do something so evil? Are you not afraid of karma?!” “Oh wow, I am so scared.” She dramatically patted her chest in mock terror. “Karma? You mean the law?” “I am only eleven years old. The law says anyone under fourteen cannot be held criminally responsible for anything.” She was leaning so close to me that I could smell the cheap floral soap in her hair. Those exact words, and that exact smell, had haunted my nightmares every single night in my past life. Looking at her face, a grotesque mixture of childish innocence and pure malice, the hatred of two lifetimes finally boiled over. I grabbed her by the hair, fully intending to drag her to the water and hold her under. “You are pure evil. I am going to let you taste exactly what she felt…” Patricia swung her heavy designer purse and smashed it directly into the side of my head. The thick metal buckle tore a deep, bleeding gash across my forehead. The pain forced me to let go. Patricia quickly pulled Ruby behind her. “Are you insane?!” “The accident already happened! Why are you taking it out on a child? My daughter is eleven! She doesn’t know any better! It was just a stupid accident!” “An accident?” I felt the blood rushing to my head, pounding against my temples. “Go ask the witnesses! Three girls held a child’s head against an industrial suction pipe until she drowned. You call that an accident?!” Patricia glanced nervously at her daughter, who looked slightly guilty. Then, with agonizing slowness, Patricia pulled a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills from her purse. “So what exactly do you want? Justice? Let me teach you a lesson about the real world. Justice depends entirely on who you are and how much you can pay!” She took a step forward, practically shoving the money into my face. “Do you know who my daughter is? She is the heir to the Montgomery Lumber Mill!” “And your kid? Just the brat of a pathetic middle-management accountant. She is dead, get over it. Did you honestly expect a Montgomery to trade her life for a nobody?” She threw the money, letting the bills flutter down onto my face and lap. “There is two thousand dollars. Take the money, shut your mouth, and buy your kid a decent coffin.” “If you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, or if you go to the cops… I promise you, neither you nor your husband will ever find a job in this state again!” Ruby peeked out from behind her mother’s expensive coat and stuck her tongue out at me. There was not a single ounce of fear in her eyes. Only pure, untouchable arrogance. Jenkins finally realized how bad things were getting. Not wanting to lose his own job, he leaned in and whispered to me. “Lynn, be reasonable. This was a tragedy, but since the Montgomery family is willing to settle this privately, why don’t you just take a step back?” Take a step back? I looked down at the cash scattered on the ground, then at the freezing, lifeless body of the little girl. It was absolutely sickening. They were treating a human life like a cheap business transaction, brushing it off like it was nothing. My eyes fell on the girl’s plum blossom birthmark again. I finally remembered exactly who she was. Since my ordinary daughter’s life was not worth anything to them, I could not wait to see how many lives they would have to pay to settle the debt for this girl. Ruby was still running her mouth. “Just look on the bright side. Cash in hand is better than nothing. Your kid is dead, so just go make another one…” I slowly lifted my head, locking my eyes onto her arrogantly ignorant face. “Your mother’s money is not going to save you this time.” She jutted her chin out. “Say whatever you want. Nothing is going to happen to me anyway. My mom told me the juvenile protection laws are my permanent shield!” I gently wiped the bloody water from the dead girl’s face. My fingertips brushed softly against the red plum blossom mark. I took off my jacket and draped it over her small body, wanting to give her one last shred of dignity. “Your shield?” A cold smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Then you better start praying that the people coming for you actually care about the law.” Patricia frowned deeply. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I completely ignored her. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed a specific number. I leaned down and whispered softly into the dead girl’s ear. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. Your daddy will be here soon.” Then, I turned toward the wall phone mounted on the outside of the caretaker’s booth and started dialing 911. “What do you think you are doing?!” Patricia finally realized something was wrong. Her voice went shrill with panic. “I am warning you! This ends here, today! If you dare make that call…”

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1 Martha, our usually quiet and dutiful nanny, stood outside the nursery today and absolutely refused to leave. “Mrs. Waldorf, there is something I really hate to bring up.” “But I have spent my entire personal savings over the last two months covering things. I honestly do not have a single dollar left to buy formula for tomorrow.” I looked at her in total shock. “Didn’t Arthur give you the VIP baby boutique card I loaded with ten thousand dollars?” “A VIP card?” Martha froze, nervously twisting the hem of her apron. “Mr. Waldorf never gave me any card.” “At first, I paid for the formula and diapers out of pocket, and he would reimburse me. But lately, he keeps saying things are tight at the clinic. He either stalls or tells me he will settle up next week.” “I figured you are a respectable family and would never stiff me over baby supplies. But it has been two months, and I am out over two thousand dollars…” Hearing this, my face burned with intense humiliation. I immediately transferred three thousand dollars to Martha’s account without asking another question. Martha thanked me profusely and went to the kitchen to prep the bottles. I just stood in the hallway, my blood running completely cold. That card was a premium membership for an exclusive baby boutique, and it was linked directly to my phone number. Over the past two months, I had received more than fifty notifications for transactions on that account. Every single one was over a hundred dollars. If the card was not with our nanny, who exactly had it? Arthur was the youngest department head at the city hospital. In the eyes of all our relatives, he was the flawless, perfect husband. On Martha’s very first day working for us, I specifically handed Arthur that pre-loaded VIP card. I told him to drop it off with Martha and make sure all the baby’s supplies were charged to it. He took the card, slipped it casually into his suit pocket, and gave me a gentle smile. “Leave it to me, honey. I will handle things around the house. You just focus on resting and recovering from the delivery.” Yet here I was, hearing from Martha that she had never even seen the plastic. While I was trying to process this, I heard the front door open. Arthur was home from his shift. “Hey honey. Martha mentioned you never gave her that baby card? She has been paying for the formula out of pocket for two months.” I kept my voice entirely casual as I probed him. Arthur was hanging up his coat. His movements completely stopped for a second before he let out an awkward, forced laugh. “Oh, right. That.” “We had that massive flu outbreak at the hospital a while back. Pediatric care drafted me to help out. I was so exhausted I must have left it in one of my lab coats.” “I will dig through my locker tomorrow. The second I find it, I will give it to her.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said, closing my laptop. “I will just go to the boutique tomorrow, report it lost, and get a replacement.” “Don’t do that!” Arthur spun around instantly. His voice was entirely too loud. Seeing me stare at him with narrowed eyes, he quickly softened his tone. “I just mean there is a lot of money on that account. The replacement process is a massive headache, and it takes days to process.” “I guarantee it is just sitting in a drawer at the clinic. Let me look for it. I will definitely find it.” He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist. “You just got off bed rest. You finally have some color back in your face. Don’t stress yourself out over something so trivial.” “Look at you. You have been exhausting yourself with the baby. You even have dark circles under your eyes.” “Do I?” “Yeah. When you were pregnant, your face was so full and glowing. You looked amazing.” He buttered me up and expertly changed the subject. I let the VIP card issue drop for the moment. But around ten o’clock that night, the baby suddenly broke out in a diaper rash, and we were completely out of his prescription cream. “Honey, I am taking your car to the pharmacy. Mine is still at the dealership for maintenance.” I shouted toward the bathroom. “Sure, keys are on the console,” Arthur replied, his voice muffled by the running shower. I got into his SUV and reached down to adjust the driver’s seat out of pure habit. My fingertips brushed against something weird tucked deep in the crevice between the leather seats. It felt like a small, slippery plastic wrapper. I pulled it out, and my breathing completely stopped. 2 It was a small, pink, lace-trimmed disposable nursing pad. It was torn open and half-used, with a highly suspicious milk stain dried onto the fabric. I knew for an absolute fact that this did not belong to me. Due to medical complications after birth, I never produced milk. We had used formula since day one. I had absolutely zero use for a product like this. Martha’s words from earlier today flashed through my mind, followed immediately by the mystery of the missing baby card. I abandoned the pharmacy trip completely. I slammed my foot on the gas and drove straight to that high-end baby boutique. Marching up to the customer service desk, I slammed my phone down on the glass counter, displaying the long list of transaction alerts. “Get your manager out here right now!” “I have not used this card a single time since I activated it. Why are you continually charging my account? Are your employees stealing customer information?” “If I do not get an explanation right this second, I am calling the police!” The store manager rushed out, looking absolutely terrified. He waved his hands frantically to calm me down. “Ma’am, I promise you that is impossible! We require the physical card for every single transaction!” “Talk is cheap. Pull the transaction logs and the security footage. Show me who used it, or I am dialing 911.” I stood my ground. Desperate to prove his store’s innocence, the manager took me straight into the security room. We matched the timestamps of the latest charges to the video feed. I finally saw the person using my money. It was a young woman wearing a loose-fitting maternity dress. She had been in the store just yesterday afternoon, loading up bags of expensive items. When she turned her face toward the camera, I got a crystal-clear look at her features. My entire body turned to stone. I knew her. She was the newly hired nurse in Arthur’s department. Bella. I had chatted with her at the hospital’s holiday gala. She had practically fawned over me, calling me “Mrs. Waldorf” in the sweetest, most innocent voice imaginable. I recorded the security footage on my phone and walked out of the boutique with a face like ice. When I pushed my front door open, Arthur was sitting in the living room playing with our sleeping baby. I walked straight up to him and shoved my phone directly into his face. I played the video of Bella at the checkout counter. “Why does a nurse from your department have my VIP card? Didn’t you say you left it in your lab coat?” The second Arthur saw the screen, all the blood drained from his face. He froze for several agonizing seconds. His eyes darted around the room as he stuttered uncontrollably. “I… I have no idea… I…” “Oh!” He slapped his forehead dramatically, acting like a lightbulb had just gone off. “Wow, I know exactly what happened.” “Last month, the hospital organized a charity drive for staff members struggling financially. Bella is actually a single mother. Her boyfriend bailed on her, and she has been having a really hard time managing a pregnancy alone.” “As the department head, I had to set an example.” “I must have accidentally slipped that card into the donation envelope instead of cash. She probably thought it was an official hospital grant and just started using it.” “Honestly, Bella should have known better. A card with that kind of limit? She really should have verified it with me first…” His facial expressions were so incredibly convincing. The sheer regret in his eyes almost made me doubt my own sanity for a second. But then I remembered the stained nursing pad hidden in his car. I stayed completely silent and just stared at him. Desperate to prove his innocence, he pulled out his phone and opened his department group chat. “Look, honey. The charity notice went out early last month.” The chat log did indeed show an initiative to raise funds for Bella. “I didn’t even give her the envelope directly. I had the head nurse pass it along. I barely speak to Bella outside of work. I swear to you, I am completely innocent.” “If you do not believe me, I will call the head nurse right now on speakerphone.” He aggressively jammed his thumb toward the dial button. 3 I grabbed his wrist and pinned his hand down. I shot him a freezing glare. “Enough. I believe you.” “Since it is just a misunderstanding, you need to get the card back tomorrow. It is pretty bold of her to max out a ten-thousand-dollar card.” “Absolutely! I will demand it back the second I clock in!” Arthur exhaled loudly, practically wiping sweat from his forehead. Watching him hurry away to the bathroom, a dark, lethal coldness settled in my eyes. I did not believe a single word he said. The image of that nursing wrapper in his car was permanently burned into my brain. We had been together since college. Seven long years. A part of me was desperately fighting the reality that he could be this kind of monster. I did not sleep a wink that night. The next morning, I left the house early, my face pale and exhausted. But I did not go to my office. I drove straight to a high-end private investigation firm and paid a small fortune to have Arthur and Bella followed. For the first few days, the photos and videos Detective Brooks sent back were perfectly normal. Arthur was either seeing patients, attending board meetings, or doing his rounds. His interactions with Bella were strictly limited to handing off patient charts. His behavior was so professional you couldn’t find a single flaw in it. I actually started to wonder if I was just suffering from postpartum paranoia. Then, at three o’clock on Friday afternoon, Detective Brooks sent me an urgent voice note. He spoke incredibly fast. “Mrs. Waldorf, we caught the big fish! Get to the GPS coordinates I just dropped you. Now!” I grabbed my keys and floored the gas pedal. I arrived at an ultra-exclusive private club in the center of the city. With the detective running interference, I quietly slipped into a semi-private booth on the second floor. I stood completely still. Only a thin, decorative privacy screen separated me from Arthur’s table. The second I stopped moving, Arthur’s familiar voice drifted through the wooden slats. It dripped with a sleazy, desperate lust I had never heard before. “Baby, I have been going crazy for you all week.” “I don’t know what got into my ugly wife, but she suddenly started asking questions about the baby card. I was so paranoid I couldn’t even look at you in the clinic.” Immediately after, Bella’s sickeningly sweet, whiny voice chimed in. “Oh Arthur, when are you going to kick her out? I am so sick of waddling around the hospital pretending to be your subordinate. It is humiliating.” “And since you took the VIP card back, who is going to pay for our son’s formula?” “Soon, baby, soon.” I heard the wet sound of Arthur kissing her cheek. “As soon as I manipulate her into signing over her company shares, I am throwing her out on the street.” A revolting series of wet, sloppy kissing noises followed. About twenty minutes later, just as I was about to lose my mind and kick the screen down, their heavy breathing finally stopped. During that half hour, my heart felt like it was being shoved through a meat grinder. The shock morphed into agonizing pain, then into total numbness, until absolutely nothing was left but pure, toxic hatred. But the conversation that followed made me hate them even more. “It is Friday. You know the drill. Let’s head back to my place, take a hot shower together, and I will make you feel real good.” “You are so bad. Hey, that expensive imported saffron you stole from her kitchen and made for me last week? My skin has been glowing. Did she notice?” “Hell no. She is completely obsessed with that annoying, crying brat of hers. She doesn’t notice anything.” “Good. She should consider it a blessing that she gets to contribute to the healthy baby boy growing in my stomach. Hahaha.” Snap. My expensive acrylic nail broke clean off, digging a bloody crescent into my palm. My stomach churned violently. I bit down on my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, forcing myself to swallow the bile rising in my throat. Every Friday afternoon, I went to a postpartum recovery center for physical therapy. I never imagined my medical routine would become the perfect, scheduled window for my husband to cheat on me. What made me want to vomit the most was that they were using my beautifully decorated, custom-built home as their free motel. And Bella’s supposed “single mother charity case” was actually carrying Arthur’s illegitimate child. The thought of them rolling around on the expensive mattress I personally picked out, leaving their filth everywhere, made me want to kick the door down and butcher them both. Animals. Absolute scum. I wanted them dead. Sensing that my eyes were bloodshot and I was seconds away from committing murder, Detective Brooks grabbed my shoulder and whispered urgently in my ear. “Hold on. Keep it together, Mrs. Waldorf. You have to keep your cool.” “We have absolute proof of the affair now. You can destroy them a hundred different ways.” “But if you charge in there and start swinging now, you will tip your hand. You lose the element of surprise.” Hearing his logic, I dug my nails deeper into my palms and forced the rage down into the pit of my stomach. I had to endure this. I needed to ensure these two parasites lost everything and never recovered. I waited in the shadows until they got dressed, acting all lovey-dovey as they walked out to their cars. Then, I pulled out my phone and called Martha. “Martha, are your two nephews who work at the meatpacking plant free today?” “Tell them to be at my house at four o’clock sharp. I need them to handle something for me. I will pay them five hundred dollars each.” Next, I opened my messaging app and started firing off group texts. The first one went to my parents and my mother-in-law. [Hey everyone, we are throwing an impromptu family BBQ at the house this afternoon. Come over, let’s eat some great food and catch up.] The final text went to Dr. Webber, the director of Arthur’s hospital. Two years ago, to guarantee Arthur’s promotion, I used my father’s corporate account to donate millions of dollars in imported MRI machines to their hospital. Whenever Dr. Webber saw me, he treated me like absolute royalty. [Dr. Webber, I am hosting a small gathering at my home today. I would love for you to drop by for a drink. We can discuss the new fleet of ambulances my company is planning to donate next year.] Every single person replied with an enthusiastic yes. 4 At four o’clock sharp, I pulled into my gated community. Martha and two massive, heavily muscled guys were waiting by the entrance. We walked through the garden path together. When we reached the front porch, my parents, my mother-in-law, and Dr. Webber—who had canceled a board meeting to be here—were already standing on the steps. “I have been ringing the bell for ten minutes. Why is nobody answering?” my dad grumbled, his brow furrowed. “Seriously. Serena invites the elders over and doesn’t even have the decency to open the door. So disrespectful,” my mother-in-law sneered, her toxic comments making my parents’ faces darken. “Serena just took over a huge project at the company. She is probably stuck in traffic. Let me call her,” my mom interjected, trying to keep the peace. “Absolutely. Young executives like Mrs. Waldorf are doing big things. Waiting a few minutes is not a problem at all,” Dr. Webber chimed in with a polite smile. But my mother-in-law refused to let it go. She loved picking fights. “Oh, Dr. Webber. You are the hospital director, your patience is just so admirable.” “Unlike my daughter-in-law. She thinks having some family money gives her the right to look down on everyone. She runs around town all day and can’t even give my son an heir.” “If it weren’t for my Arthur having the patience of a saint and being a highly respected doctor, no man would ever put up with her terrible attitude.” Dr. Webber forced a dry laugh and smartly kept his mouth shut. My parents looked furious. My mom actually took a step forward, ready to tear the woman apart. Terrified they would start screaming and alert the two animals screwing inside, I quickly stepped up, my heels clicking loudly against the stone path. “Why is everyone standing outside? Arthur is already home.” Seeing me arrive, the group parted to let me through to the door. “We rang the bell forever. Nobody answered. Arthur is probably asleep,” my dad said coldly. “My son works so hard saving lives in surgery. He is definitely exhausted and sleeping heavily,” my mother-in-law defended him defensively. She quickly turned her venom back on me. “You really need to start taking better care of Arthur, Serena. He is the provider of this family…” I ignored her absolute BS. I pressed my thumb against the biometric scanner on the front door. A loud beep echoed, and the deadbolt clicked open. The second I pushed the heavy oak door open an inch, a violent force slammed against it from the inside, trying to force it shut. “Who is it?!” Arthur’s voice roared from the foyer, thick with sheer panic. “Honey, it’s me. I finished work early. I invited my parents, your mom, and Dr. Webber over for a party.” I kept my voice bright and cheerful, but I shoved my weight hard against the wood. “No! Wait! Serena, stop!” Arthur was throwing his entire body weight against the door. His voice was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. “A pipe burst in the hallway! It is a complete mess! Give me ten minutes to clean it up!” “Arthur, what is wrong with you? Dr. Webber is standing right here. Open the damn door!” My mother-in-law cared deeply about her public image. Embarrassed by his behavior, she stepped up and started pushing on the door with me. I took a step back, looked at the two massive guys from the meatpacking plant, and tilted my chin toward the entrance. “Bust it open. I will cover any damages.” The two heavy hitters didn’t hesitate. They stepped up, dropped their shoulders, and rammed the door with explosive force. A deafening crash shook the frame. The heavy door blasted inward. Arthur let out a pathetic scream as he was launched backward, crashing hard onto the hardwood floor. He was completely naked, desperately clutching a tiny white towel over his waist. His face was the color of a ghost. Everyone rushed into the foyer. The living room was an absolute disaster zone. A pair of ripped black lace panties was thrown casually over the sofa. Several empty wine bottles and half-filled glasses littered the expensive coffee table. Used condom wrappers were scattered across the luxury rug. The air was thick with the sickening smell of cheap perfume and sweat. “Oh my god! Did someone break in?!” my mother-in-law shrieked. She stared at the disgusting mess, her eyes practically bulging out of her skull. Arthur scrambled backward on his hands and knees, dripping with nervous sweat. He stammered out the most pathetic excuse imaginable. “No… no break-in.” “I was… I was doing a highly sensitive medical experiment by myself… I accidentally knocked over some chemical reagents… I… I didn’t have time to clean it up.” “A solo medical experiment?” I let out a sharp, cold laugh. I walked over to the sofa and picked up the black lace lingerie. It was the exact set Bella had been wearing. I dangled the tiny scrap of fabric right in front of Arthur’s sweating face. “Honey, you were doing a medical experiment wearing this?” The entire room went dead silent.

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The year Todd cheated on me with my best friend. He endlessly bombarded me with photos of them in bed, trying to force me to admit that I had slept with my male colleague, Oliver, in a hotel room. When he sent the hundredth video, it was right before the holiday weekend. He didn’t even bother looking at the camera. “Mrs. Waldorf, I guess your boring little coworker didn’t satisfy you, huh?” My supposed best friend, Chloe, leaned into his chest. “Todd, how long do you think Phoebe can keep up this tough act?” Todd proposed a bet. “I bet she won’t even last until the holiday. She will get dumped, and then she will come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness.” “Phoebe, if you refuse to lower your head, you can just wear this green hat forever.” The truth was, during a business trip, I got completely drunk at a networking dinner, and Oliver was just responsible for safely escorting me back to the hotel. But Todd, who had secretly bought a ticket to surprise me for my birthday, saw us and completely convinced himself we were having an affair. On the day of the holiday, Todd ran into Oliver on the street. He had his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe. Thinking he had already won his bet, Todd immediately let out a mocking laugh. “Where is Phoebe? Did you already dump that pathetic bitch?” Oliver threw a violent punch, catching Todd squarely in the jaw. “Todd, do you have a single shred of humanity left in you?! Phoebe has been dead for a month!” 1 “Oliver, are you seriously making up a story about her being dead just to cover for her?” Todd turned his head and wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his mouth. Passersby on the sidewalk turned to stare. Oliver was shaking violently with rage. He grabbed Todd by the collar of his custom shirt. “Todd, are you even human?! Her ashes are already cold!” “When she died, she was alone in a hospital bed, in so much agonizing pain that she literally bit her own lips to shreds!” “And what the hell are you doing?! You are out here buying designer bags with this whore!” Todd let out a cold, dismissive sneer. “You put on a pretty good show.” “How much money did Phoebe pay you to put on this psychotic act in public?” He casually took off his tailored suit jacket and draped it over Chloe, who was pretending to shiver next to him. “Todd, please don’t be mad at Oliver.” Chloe seized the opportunity to lean deeper into his embrace, her eyes turning slightly red. “Phoebe just wants to make you jealous. She loves you so much, how could she possibly die?” Todd wrapped his arm firmly around her waist. “Alright, that is enough. Go back and tell Phoebe this whole ‘playing hard to get’ routine is pathetic.” “Faking her own death to force me to apologize? Tell her to keep dreaming.” He didn’t spare Oliver another glance. He just turned and walked toward his Maybach parked on the curb. I hovered in the air, silently watching this exact scene play out. The agonizing, tearing pain of terminal stomach cancer seemed to still linger in the depths of my soul. But watching Todd completely convinced that I was just throwing a tantrum, I didn’t feel a single ripple of emotion. A month ago, I drew my last breath on a freezing operating table. At that moment, I genuinely believed death would be the ultimate release. But I never expected my soul to be trapped beside Todd. I was forced to watch him continue dragging my dignity through the mud. Inside the quiet cabin of the Maybach, Todd leaned back against the leather seat and closed his eyes to rest. The neon city lights blurred past the windows. “Todd, do you think Phoebe took the joke a bit too far this time?” Chloe probed carefully, tracing circles on his chest with her manicured finger. “Having someone tell you she is dead is such bad luck. What if something actually happened to her?” “What could possibly happen to her?” Todd didn’t even open his eyes. “She is a useless parasite who can’t survive a single day without me. What else is she capable of besides using these cheap stunts to get attention?” “I bet you right now, before midnight tonight, she will come crawling back to the villa and drop to her knees to apologize.” I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. He was right. The old me loved Todd so much that I completely lost my own identity. Just because he once said “I will take care of you,” I willingly gave up my career to become a full-time housewife. Even when he subjected me to months of cold, psychological torture, I only responded with pathetic attempts to please him. Even on the exact day I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, I was so excited to rush home and cook him a special dinner. Only to open the bedroom door and find him rolling around on our marital bed with Chloe. The Maybach pulled into the driveway of our hillside mansion. Todd pushed the front door open, and his eyes immediately landed on the entryway console table. A blue package was sitting right there. It was something I begged a nurse to mail for me right before I died. Inside was a scarf I had knitted, stitch by agonizing stitch, while enduring the absolute hell of chemotherapy. And a farewell letter. Todd’s brow instantly furrowed in annoyance. “What is this?” Chloe quickly stepped ahead of him, read the sender’s name, and a malicious glint flashed in her eyes. “Todd, it is a package from Phoebe.” The image of Oliver walking me back to that hotel room flashed in Todd’s mind. “Throw it out. Do not let it dirty my floors.” He turned and headed straight up the stairs toward the master bathroom. The sound of running water echoed a minute later. Chloe stared at the package, her eyes burning with toxic jealousy. She found a pair of scissors and sliced through the packing tape. A thick blue scarf tumbled out, and tucked inside the folds was a plain white envelope. Chloe pulled the letter out. I floated right behind her, watching as her eyes scanned the suicide note I left behind. The letter read: [Todd, by the time you read this, I will no longer be in this world.] [Do you remember our first anniversary? You clung to me like a little kid, begging me to personally knit you a blue scarf.] [I was so clumsy. I knitted and unraveled it a hundred times. By the time I was diagnosed with cancer, I forced myself through the agonizing pain of chemo just to finally finish it.] [The scarf is finished. It is just a shame we don’t love each other anymore.] Chloe’s hand trembled. She aggressively crumpled the letter into a tight ball and shoved it deep into her own pocket. The bathroom door opened. Todd walked out drying his hair with a towel, and his eyes immediately fell on the blue scarf. He froze for a second. I saw a brief, fleeting moment of nostalgia pass through his eyes. On our first anniversary, he had held me tight in the snow, pouting. “Phoebe, all the other guys have scarves knitted by their girlfriends. I want one too.” Back then, his eyes were filled with nothing but me. But now, he looked at that scarf with absolute, undisguised disgust. “Todd…” Chloe practically skipped over and intentionally kicked the scarf across the floor. “Phoebe is so annoying. She knows you absolutely hate cheap, handmade garbage like this.” She covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh. Her tone was dripping with pure malice. “And I actually heard she knitted the exact same one for her male coworker at the studio.” Todd’s face instantly turned dark like a thundercloud. He didn’t hesitate. He snatched the scarf off the floor and violently shoved it deep into the nearest trash can. “Tell the security guards at the gate, any future packages from Phoebe get thrown directly into the dumpster.” “She disgusts me.” 2 The next morning, Chloe sat in the passenger seat, looking at Todd with her most delicate, innocent expression as he drove. “Todd, are you really going to repossess Phoebe’s design studio? Won’t she be really angry?” Todd’s eyes were completely dead. “Since she wants to play hide-and-seek, I will just destroy everything she cares about.” “Let’s see how long she can keep up this tough act.” The car pulled up in front of my studio, the place where I had poured all my blood, sweat, and passion. Todd leaned back in his leather seat and lit a cigarette. Several heavy-set bodyguards immediately stormed into the studio. The sickening sound of things being smashed echoed into the street. I floated in the air, watching coldly as my expensive fabrics were violently torn to shreds. The workers took the design sketches I had spent countless sleepless nights drawing and threw them directly into the muddy puddles on the street. Todd sat in his car, quietly watching the absolute destruction through the tinted window. He smoked his cigarette very slowly. As he watched the main sign forcefully ripped down from the exterior wall, his gaze darkened slightly. He remembered the days when we were childhood sweethearts. Back then, just to spend a few extra minutes with me, he willingly stood in the freezing wind an hour early every single day to wait for me. He was always eager to be my personal bag carrier, his eyes filled with nothing but pure, unfiltered love. But now, every single drop of that love had completely evaporated. He exhaled a long cloud of gray smoke. “Stop! What the hell are you doing?!” Oliver rushed forward, completely losing control as he violently shoved the bodyguards who were smashing my equipment. “Get the hell away! This is Phoebe’s life’s work!” He threw himself over a drafting table, desperately shielding a sketch of a wedding dress. Todd sat in the car. He didn’t even bother opening his door. He just found Oliver’s desperate display of devotion incredibly irritating. “Throw him out.” The bodyguards immediately swarmed forward and grabbed Oliver by his collar. Oliver clung to that sketch like his life depended on it. In the chaos, one of the bodyguards delivered a brutal kick directly to Oliver’s knee. Oliver lost his balance and crashed hard down the concrete steps. He curled up on the pavement in agonizing pain, clutching his arm. The sketch he had tried so hard to protect drifted onto the ground next to him. A bodyguard wearing heavy leather boots stepped on it without a second thought. He ground the sole of his boot deep into the muddy puddle, completely destroying the drawing. “No…” Oliver gasped out. That was the surprise I was planning to give Todd for our wedding anniversary. It was a sketch of a custom wedding dress and suit I had designed specifically for us. It was a shame he would never know. Watching Oliver suffer in absolute agony, I felt a crushing wave of guilt. He was just a kind coworker, yet my toxic mess had dragged him down to this. Todd finally rolled down his tinted window. His eyes were full of arrogant contempt. “Is that all it takes to break you?” Todd flicked his half-smoked cigarette butt directly at Oliver’s feet. “Go back and tell Phoebe, if she thinks hiring her little boy toy to play the victim is going to make me feel sorry for her, she is dead wrong.” Oliver was sweating profusely from the pain. He glared at Todd, grinding his teeth. “Todd, you are going to rot in hell for this!” “Rot in hell?” Todd let out a loud, mocking laugh. He genuinely found the threat hilarious. “What right do you have to judge me? Phoebe is the one who cheated! She abandoned me first!” “Tell her if she doesn’t drag her ass back home by tomorrow, I am sending bulldozers to level her parents’ old house.” As soon as Todd stepped back into his executive office, Chloe walked in carrying a cup of hand-ground coffee. “Todd, look at Phoebe’s social media. It looks like she is on vacation on some tropical island.” She casually slid an iPad across his massive desk. On the screen was a screenshot of a private social media post. The location tag was an exotic overseas island. In the background of the photo, the back of a man was visible, lounging on a beach chair. The caption read: [Finally free from the chains. My new life is amazing.] 3 Todd stared intensely at the man’s back in the photo. “She took my money and went off to screw some guy on a beach?” Chloe gently placed her hand over his and let out a soft, pitying sigh. “Todd, please don’t be mad. Phoebe is probably just confused and getting scammed by some random guy.” “After all, she gave up so much for you in the past. She probably just wants to experience something exciting now.” Every single word out of her mouth was calculated to pour gasoline on Todd’s rage. I floated near the ceiling, staring at the blatantly photoshopped image. I had permanently deleted that account months ago. To deepen Todd’s hatred for me, Chloe was actually resorting to these pathetic, psychotic tactics. Todd snatched the receiver off his desk phone. “Get the Director of Finance in my office! Right now!” Less than three minutes later, the finance director sprinted into the office, completely out of breath. “Mr. Waldorf, what do you need?” Todd leaned back heavily in his leather chair. “Instantly freeze every single credit card and supplementary account under Phoebe’s name.” “And use our corporate override clearance to forcibly sever all cash flow to her private checking account.” The finance director froze, his face turning pale with hesitation. “Sir, that private account is not registered under the company. Forcibly cutting it off could trigger massive breach of contract lawsuits…” “I told you to cut it off! Do not give me excuses!” “If there is fallout, I will handle it! I want to make sure she cannot spend a single cent!” Terrified, the director nodded frantically and ran out of the office to execute the order. He had absolutely no idea what freezing that account actually meant. That account was my final lifeline. It held the money I was using to pay the final installments for my cemetery plot. Last month, when I was completely bedridden and dying, the hospital constantly pressured me to pay for my incredibly expensive cancer medication. With trembling, bruised hands, I tried to swipe that exact card. The machine just flashed red: Account Frozen by Primary Holder. That was Todd’s first punishment. He did it to force me to apologize to Chloe. I spent that entire night rolling on the freezing hospital floor in agonizing pain. I dug my fingernails into the plaster wall until they bled, but I couldn’t even afford to buy a single painkiller. Now, he was trying to destroy the only peace I had left after death. Chloe stood by his side, a toxic, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She understood Todd perfectly. All she had to do was poke at his massive ego, and he would completely lose his mind. “Phoebe, you think you can play games with me? You are way out of your league.” He muttered the words to the empty room. “When you are starving on the streets with absolutely nothing, we will see how long it takes for you to come begging.” Chloe walked behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Todd, please don’t waste your energy being angry at someone so worthless. Let’s go buy some pretty dresses tonight, okay?” Todd patted her hand, his tone softening considerably. “Alright. Whatever you want.” The holiday weekend officially ended. There was still absolutely no word from me. Todd’s patience completely ran out. “Mr. Waldorf, the divorce petition is finalized. Once you sign it, Mrs. Waldorf will be forced to leave with absolutely nothing.” Inside the law firm’s pristine conference room, the senior partner respectfully slid a thick legal document across the table. Todd felt his absolute authority was being challenged. Since I wanted to play a disappearing game, he was going to unilaterally terminate the marriage. He was suing me for corporate embezzlement, vowing to bury me under a mountain of inescapable debt. “Factor all the cheap jewelry under her name into the financial damages.” “I want her thrown out of my world without a single penny to her name.” The lawyer nodded aggressively and flipped to the signature page. Just as the tip of Todd’s expensive fountain pen touched the paper. The heavy glass doors of the conference room were violently pushed open. Oliver walked in. He looked completely dead inside, hollowed out by grief. His arm was still in a cast, and he had lost so much weight he looked like a skeleton. Todd stopped writing. His brow locked in a furious scowl. “What the hell is security doing? How did this piece of garbage get in here?” Oliver did not charge forward to throw a punch like last time. He simply walked up to the table and gently placed a heavy, black-and-white picture frame directly on top of the divorce petition. Inside the frame, was me. In the photo, I looked like a walking corpse. My hair had thinned out entirely from the chemo. My cheeks were sunken deep into my skull, my skin the color of ash. The eyes that used to look at Todd with absolute devotion were now hollow, staring blankly into nothing. Todd stared at the black-and-white photo and let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Oliver, do you honestly think photoshopping a fake memorial portrait is going to scare me?” “The editing is pathetic. Phoebe could never look this ugly.” He reached out to forcefully push the frame off the table. Oliver cut him off, his voice dead. “This is her actual memorial portrait. She doesn’t have any family left. I am organizing her funeral tomorrow.” “Before she passed, she told me she never wanted you to see her looking this sick.” “But honestly? I think you deserve to stare at it for the rest of your miserable life.” Todd’s hand froze in mid-air. “Stop lying to my face! Tell her to drag her ass out here and face me!” Todd roared, completely losing his temper. Right at that exact second, his cell phone, which was sitting on the table, started vibrating violently. The screen displayed an official government hotline number. The voice on the other end echoed loudly through the room. “Hello, am I speaking to Mr. Todd Waldorf?” “Speaking.” Todd’s voice was tight with rage. “This is the joint hotline for the Department of Civil Affairs and the Municipal Crematorium.” The operator paused for a second before delivering the cold, hard facts. “The legal holding period for the remains of Ms. Phoebe Waldorf has expired. As a result, the body has been cremated under the protocol for unclaimed deceased persons.” “As her legally registered spouse, you are required to bring your marriage certificate and identification to claim her ashes as soon as possible.” The expensive fountain pen slipped from Todd’s fingers and hit the floor. “Mr. Waldorf, the remains of Ms. Phoebe Waldorf have been cremated under the unclaimed deceased protocol. Please bring your marriage certificate to claim her ashes.”

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When Vincent brought his ultimate high school crush, Audrey, back to our shared penthouse, I greeted them at the door with a perfectly pleasant smile and a premium condom. “Hubby, I know it is technically your safe week, but better safe than sorry.” Vincent stared at me, his eyes swirling with a complicated mix of shock and irritation. “Mindy, you actually keep track of things like that?” Now that felt like an insult to my professionalism. I was playing the role of the devoted, brainless trophy wife, and he was questioning my dedication. Clearly, he needed a reminder of my top-tier services. I launched into a bright, non-stop monologue about my own cycle, our anniversaries, his gym schedule, and his exact grooming routine. Vincent finally groaned, rubbing his temples, and waved me off with a look of utter exhaustion. “Enough. Just go to sleep.” He brushed past me, walking straight into the master suite and slamming the door heavy enough to rattle the wall sconces. I stood in the hallway, twirling the little foil packet in my fingers, before letting out a soft sigh and dragging my feet toward the guest bedroom. 1 The next morning, I was carrying a plate of freshly toasted bagels and eggs out of the kitchen when Audrey floated down the grand staircase. She looked radiant, practically glowing with the triumph of a woman marking her territory. Seeing me, her lips curled into a sneer of pure disdain. “Mindy, you really have no spine, do you? Letting another woman sleep under your roof. You are practically a doormat with a welcome sign painted on your forehead.” Oh, hell no. Did this entitled little princess just call me a doormat in my own workspace? Without missing a beat, I flicked my wrist. The steaming, sunny-side-up egg flew off my spatula and slapped right onto her perfectly contoured cheek. “And what kind of swamp rat are you, hopping into my house with breath that smells like absolute garbage?” Audrey screamed, frantically wiping the hot yolk off her face. “Are you crazy?” “Keep yapping, and you will find out exactly how crazy I can get.” She had never been spoken to like that in her privileged little life. All the color drained from her face, and she stumbled backward. Just as I took a step forward to finish the job, the master bedroom door clicked open. Vincent stepped out, stretching his broad shoulders in a lazy yawn. Audrey saw her cue. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp, aiming for a delicate, dramatic faint. I was faster. I dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks, beating her to the expensive Persian rug. Before Audrey could even figure out how to land gracefully, I reached up and grabbed her by the collar of her silk pajamas, yanking her down with me. From Vincent’s vantage point at the top of the stairs, it looked exactly like Audrey had tackled me to the ground. He let out a sharp shout. “Audrey, what are you doing?” Audrey opened her mouth to defend herself, but I tightened my grip on her collar, twisting the fabric just enough to cut off her air. She panicked, her hands flailing wildly as she slapped at my arms, desperately trying to pry my fingers loose. To anyone watching, she was straddling me and throwing punches. Vincent sprinted down the stairs, grabbing Audrey by the waist and shoving her off me. I released my grip at the exact perfect second. Audrey lost her balance and collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath. Vincent did not even spare her a second glance. He dropped to his knees, his hands hovering over me with genuine panic. “Mindy, are you okay? Talk to me, please.” I kept my eyes squeezed shut, putting on my best fragile damsel routine. Audrey rubbed her throat, coughing violently until she finally found her voice. “Vincent, you have to listen to me. It was her.” I did not let her finish. I fluttered my eyelashes open, making sure a single, perfectly timed tear spilled down my cheek. “Hubby, please do not be mad at Audrey. She did not hit me. I just felt dizzy and fell on my own.” Vincent gently pulled me into his chest, shooting a lethal glare at Audrey. Tears were streaming down Audrey’s face now, completely unscripted. “Vincent, she is lying. She hit me first.” He was not buying a single word of it. His voice was absolute ice. “Audrey, I am not blind.” The look on her face was priceless. She looked like she had just swallowed a lemon whole. I laughed inwardly. Did she really think I had not studied every single soap opera trope in existence? To defeat a manipulative mean girl, you have to outplay her at her own game. Since Vincent was currently drowning in guilt and sympathy, I decided to twist the knife. “I just wanted to make a nice breakfast to welcome her. But Audrey said the eggs were undercooked and threw one right at my face.” I pointed to the greasy yellow stain on the collar of my shirt, collateral damage from the egg I had slapped onto her. Vincent’s jaw tightened. He murmured soft apologies into my hair, rubbing my back. I was just gearing up to deliver the final blow to Audrey’s ego when the idiot suddenly clutched her neck, hacking and wheezing like she was dying. For a split second, I panicked. Did I actually crush her windpipe? Vincent froze, his protective instinct overriding his anger. He gently set me down and rushed over to Audrey. “Audrey, what is wrong? Hold on, I am taking you to the ER.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, practically carrying her toward the front door. Just before they stepped out, Audrey peeked over his shoulder and shot me a triumphant, wicked smirk. Well played. I had to hand it to her. I guess I still had a lot to learn in the art of playing the victim. 2 That evening, just as I finished setting the dining table, Vincent guided Audrey back into the house. “Mindy, Audrey is still feeling a bit weak. Do you mind if she stays with us for a while to recover?” He asked the question with extreme caution, his dark eyes scanning my face for any sign of a meltdown. I honestly did not know why he bothered asking. My opinion meant absolutely nothing in this arrangement. But since he gave me the floor, I played my part beautifully. “Of course not. Why would I mind?” “Her family is not in the city. If we do not look after her, who will?” I waved my hand with effortless grace, playing the forgiving saint. Audrey scoffed softly, crossing her arms. “Vincent, why are you asking for her permission? She relies on your credit cards. Do you really think she would dare say no?” Vincent looked at me, a complex, unreadable shadow crossing his features. “Dinner is getting cold,” I said brightly, shattering the awkward silence. I pulled out two chairs right next to each other for them, then took my seat on the opposite side of the long marble table. The meal was eaten in total silence. After Vincent escorted Audrey to her temporary bedroom, I heard a soft knock on my door. I pulled it open and blinked in surprise. Vincent was standing there in his silk bathrobe, smelling of expensive body wash. He tried to push past me into the room, but I immediately planted my hand on his chest to stop him. “Hubby, wait. Are you and Audrey having performance issues? If that is the case, you should have just told me.” Vincent went totally rigid. He stared at me like I had just grown a second head. I stared right back, my eyes wide and entirely sincere. For the past five years of our marriage, I had taken flawless care of this man and never once pried into his personal affairs. As far as fake wives went, I was the undisputed champion. He could not find a single flaw in my service. Realizing I was not going to move an inch, Vincent let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Mindy, how are the medical bills for your brother? Do you have enough?” I nodded, then hesitated and shook my head. “The standard treatments are covered. But he has been in so much pain lately. There is a specialized neuro-stimulation device that could help him, but I am a little short.” Vincent did not say another word. He turned on his heel and walked back to the master suite. Less than a minute later, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I checked the screen. A deposit notification for one million dollars. The corners of my mouth curled up into a massive grin. Tonight was going to be a very good night. I woke up at dawn, prepped a flawless breakfast spread, and drove straight to the private hospital facility. My younger brother, Hans, looked up at me with glassy, exhausted eyes. “Mindy. It hurts.” Seeing his body growing frailer by the day twisted my heart into brutal knots. “Do not be scared, kiddo. The pain is going to stop today.” Hans’s eyes widened in sheer panic. He gripped the edge of his bedsheets. “Mindy, are you going to euthanize me? Please tell me you are not pulling the plug. I swear it does not hurt anymore.” I rolled my eyes so hard they almost got stuck in my head, letting out an exasperated sigh. Before the car accident that left him paralyzed from the chest down, Hans had been the brightest, funniest, most chaotic kid in the world. Now, his body constantly misfired pain signals from nerve damage, even though his actual limbs could not feel a thing. I carefully sponge-bathed him, chatting with the specialists, and finally paid for the imported device to be fitted to his head and spine. It cost nearly a million dollars. I had been saving every penny, but I was always just short. Thanks to my generous employer, Hans finally had relief. Once the machine was calibrated, the tight lines of agony on Hans’s face smoothed out. He looked more like himself than he had in months. “So, big sis. I saw the tabloids. The billionaire’s golden girl is back in town. Are you about to get fired?” Of course. The second he stops hurting, he starts roasting me. I raised my hands, pretending I was about to yank the expensive helmet right off his skull. Hans jerked his head from side to side, dodging my hands with a cheeky grin. “Hey, violence is never the answer.” I shot him a dirty look. “If I get fired, you are the one who suffers. I will dump you on the sidewalk with a tin cup and a sad sign.” Hans immediately plastered on a cartoonish, exaggerated look of total devotion. We both burst out laughing. “Relax,” I told him, tapping his nose. “Your sister is irreplaceable.” I stuck my tongue out at him, wiggling it like a snake. He stared at me, totally lost. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means nobody on this planet can kiss ass quite like I can. My survival skills are legendary.” Hans turned his head away in deep disgust. “Put that thing away. You are getting spit on the sterile blankets.” I pulled my tongue back in, deeply satisfied. He spent half his life annoying me, so it was only fair I returned the favor. I stayed by his side, feeding him dinner and watching movies, until the visiting hours finally ended. 3 When I unlocked the front door, Vincent and Audrey were curled up together on the plush living room sofa, watching a movie. I treated them like expensive pieces of furniture and walked right past. When Vincent and I first signed our marriage contract, clause number four explicitly stated that I was not to interfere with his private life. I am a woman who respects a legal binding document. Seeing me walk in, Vincent practically shoved Audrey aside and stood up. “Mindy, you are home.” I looked at him in mild shock. In five years, he had never once gotten up to greet me. Was he actually waiting for me? Audrey’s face darkened like a thundercloud. I ignored her entirely and looked at Vincent. “Did you eat?” He nodded quickly. “Audrey and I grabbed something in the city.” I let out a silent breath of relief. Thank God I did not have to cook for these two clowns tonight. I was just about to escape to my room when Audrey decided to be a nuisance. “Vincent, I barely touched my food at the restaurant. Could you ask her to whip me up a midnight snack?” She used this sickeningly sweet, high-pitched baby voice that genuinely made my stomach churn. Vincent frowned, looking at me with absolute dread. I did not say a word. I just turned around and walked straight into the kitchen. When a client pays well, you provide the service. Simple economics. Half an hour later, I carried out four plates and a bowl of soup, setting them out like a five-star chef. Audrey shot me a smug, victorious look and picked up her fork, stabbing a piece of seared pork belly. The moment she bit down, her face twisted in horror. “Why is this meat sweet?” No kidding, Sherlock. I dumped half a cup of granulated sugar in the pan. She quickly reached for the honey-glazed chicken, shoving a piece into her mouth before immediately spitting it out into her napkin. “It is like pure salt.” I did not have any vinegar left, so I had emptied half a bottle of dark soy sauce into the glaze. She wanted a midnight snack. I was going to give her a culinary nightmare. Realizing I had played her, Audrey absolutely lost her mind. “Vincent, you always bragged about what a great cook she is. Taste this poison yourself.” Vincent looked at me, utterly confused. Seeing my calm, serene expression, he found his confidence. “Stop being so picky, Audrey. Mindy’s cooking is incredible. I have been eating it for five years, do you think I would not know?” Audrey’s face turned ash gray. “Taste it. Just taste it and see.” She picked up a piece of the salty chicken and held it out, trying to feed it to him. Vincent leaned back, his lips pressed in a tight, stubborn line, refusing to take the bite. Watching them locked in this bizarre standoff, I finally chimed in. “Oh, do not try to feed him now. You know Vincent follows a strict intermittent fasting schedule. He never eats after dinner.” Audrey froze, her hand hovering in the air before she awkwardly lowered the fork. Vincent looked up at me. His eyes were swimming with gratitude, guilt, and something else heavy and unreadable. Seeing the silent communication passing between us, Audrey let out a loud, fake cough. “Oh, sorry, Vincent. I totally forgot.” Vincent did not respond. He just stood up and headed straight for the master bedroom without a backward glance. Audrey immediately pushed her chair back to follow him, but I slammed my hand down on her shoulder, forcing her back into her seat. “We have a very strict rule in this house. No wasting food. Every grain of rice takes hard work. Eat it. All of it.” Audrey panicked, shouting Vincent’s name, but he did not even pause. “Mindy is right, Audrey. Finish your plate. No wasting.” His bedroom door clicked shut. Audrey’s face crumbled into pure despair. I pulled out a chair, crossed my legs, and sat directly across from her, settling in for the show. “Listen closely, Audrey. If you spit a single bite out, I will force-feed it right back to you.” Having already experienced my brand of crazy, she knew I was not bluffing. She choked down a bite, violently swallowing it back when her gag reflex kicked in. She looked like a dying goldfish, gulping and heaving, tears streaming down her perfectly powdered face. It was honestly repulsive to watch, but wildly entertaining. The second her plate was clear, she bolted from the table, sprinting for the guest bathroom. I considered following her to see if she threw up. If she did, I was fully prepared to make her lick the porcelain clean. But she slammed and locked the door before I could catch her. 4 I wandered back to my guest bedroom in a great mood, only to stop dead in my tracks. Vincent was lounging on my bed, propped up against the pillows. “Uh… should you not be in the master suite?” I asked. “Audrey ran off crying. Are you not going to go check on her? What if something happens to her?” Vincent’s eyes softened, entirely focused on me. “She is a grown woman. What could possibly happen?” He patted the mattress beside him. “Mindy, it has been a really long time for us.” I scratched my nose, doing the mental math. “Yeah, exactly one year. Not since Audrey moved back to town.” Vincent frowned, clearly annoyed that I ruined the mood. “Why do you always have to bring her up?” “Come here,” he ordered softly. “I really need you tonight.” In the past, he treated intimacy with me like he was handing out a gold medal. Like allowing me to touch him was the ultimate blessing. What he did not know was that I had to mentally replay scenes from my favorite spicy romance movies just to get through it. It was not that Vincent was unattractive. The man was built like a Greek god. It was just that I firmly believed in keeping my professional relationship with my employer strictly business. Seeing me standing frozen in the doorway, his patience snapped. “You do not want to?” I ran a hand through my hair, laughing awkwardly. “Look, boss, if you and Audrey are really having bedroom issues, you should just see a doctor.” Vincent stared at me, halfway between fury and disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? Nothing is wrong with me and Audrey.” I sighed deeply. “Look, I am not greedy. Just wire me three hundred bucks for the overtime.” Vincent’s face went completely dark. The romantic reward he thought he was offering was being treated like a cheap transaction. “Mindy, what exactly does that mean?” “It means exactly what it sounds like. If you want a service, I expect compensation. You are not getting a free ride on my time.” “We are legally married.” “So what? Marital rape is a felony, Vincent. Do not push your luck.” Vincent threw the blankets off, stormed past me, and slammed the door so hard the floorboards vibrated. I exhaled a massive breath of relief, laughing at how totally oblivious the man was. Did he seriously think sleeping with him was a privilege? Sharing a bed with a man who was emotionally obsessed with another woman was repulsive. Even a toilet made of solid gold is still just a toilet. Three hundred was a bargain. If I was not terrified of losing my medical funding, I would have charged him a thousand. My rejection completely shattered his ego. The very next day, he paraded Audrey around the house, wrapping his arm around her waist right in front of me, making sure I saw every touch. Before this, he had always kept a respectful distance from her when I was in the room. He was clearly trying to make me jealous. Too bad for him, I felt absolutely nothing. I just kept smiling, playing the perfect, accommodating wife whenever he was looking. But the second Vincent left for the office, I made Audrey’s life a living hell. When she tried to fake-slap herself to frame me, I grabbed a bag of frozen peas and aggressively iced her face until she begged for mercy. When she threatened to throw herself down the carpeted stairs to get my attention, I just happened to spill a bucket of soapy mop water all over the marble landing. She wanted an accident? I provided the stage. If she threatened to jump off the second-floor balcony, I offered to give her a little push. It was only fifteen feet. It would break a leg, not her neck. She loved playing the tragic victim, so I made sure she actually had something to cry about. Over the next two weeks, Audrey called Vincent at the office constantly, sobbing about my cruelty. At first, he rushed home. Then, he started sighing. Eventually, he stopped picking up. He could not understand how the sweet, innocent, radiant girl from his youth had turned into this exhausting, paranoid nightmare of a woman. Vincent was the CEO of a massive tech conglomerate. He was fighting corporate battles all day. The last thing he wanted was to come home to a screaming match about spilled mop water. So, when Audrey finally played her ultimate trump card and threatened to move out, Vincent did not even blink. He had his assistant lease a luxury apartment downtown, packed her bags, and had a driver take her away before lunch. 5 When Audrey left, her eyes were wide with dramatic betrayal. She stood in the driveway, warning Vincent that he was going to regret losing her forever. But looking at Vincent’s face, the man was fighting a massive smile. He did not look like a man dealing with regret. Once her car disappeared down the street, Vincent let out a long, heavy exhale. He turned to me, his eyes bright, looking exactly like a golden retriever waiting for a treat. The look clearly said, See? Look how good I am. I just stared at him blankly. What was I supposed to say? He just evicted my favorite source of entertainment. He thought he was sending away his first love, but he actually just deported my only hobby. With Audrey gone, Vincent suddenly became clingy. He told me he wanted things to go back to how they were a year ago, before Audrey moved back to the city. His words actually made me freeze, dragging up memories I had carefully locked away. Vincent and I met five years ago. I had just graduated college when Hans was hit by a drunk driver. The guy fled the scene and was never caught. Suddenly, I was staring down medical bills that could bankrupt a small country. I worked a corporate job during the day and waitressed at a high-end VIP club at night just to keep the debt collectors away. That was where I met Vincent, right after Audrey broke his heart and moved overseas. He was drinking himself into a coma with his wealthy friends. One of them pointed at me, wearing a tight uniform and carrying a tray of champagne, and dared him to marry the hottest girl in the room just to make Audrey regret leaving. Vincent walked right up to me and offered a contract marriage. I looked at his expensive watch, did the math, and agreed on the spot. My only condition: he covered every single cent of Hans’s medical care. Vincent had more money than God. He signed the check without blinking. We got the license the next morning. After that, I treated him like royalty. I learned his favorite foods, massaged his shoulders after long meetings, and curated his entire life. Vincent, who was used to chasing women who treated him like garbage, fell entirely into the trap of my perfect domestic bliss. Slowly, the contract lines blurred. We started living like a real couple. He visited Hans in the hospital with me, cracking jokes and paying for the best doctors. I actually thought we were building a real family. But the fantasy shattered a year ago. Audrey returned. After four years of marriage, Vincent dropped me like a used toy and ran straight back to her. When I finally broke down and asked him to stay, he practically threw the original contract in my face. “Mindy, I told you from day one not to interfere with my private life. You married me to save your brother. Stop acting like you are dying of a broken heart.” Those words were like a bucket of ice water to the face. I cursed myself for being so stupid, for letting myself believe a billionaire could actually love a desperate waitress. I was nothing but a convenient distraction. Once I accepted reality, I locked my heart in a steel box and went back to being the perfect employee. As long as he paid the hospital bills, he could do whatever he wanted. Love was a luxury I could not afford. When Audrey came back, she realized she had competition and dropped her hard-to-get act. Vincent caught her with zero effort. His friends warned him that Audrey’s family business was under investigation and she was likely using him, but Vincent refused to listen. He flaunted her all over town. And now, he wanted to send her to an apartment and pretend the last year never happened? I felt a wave of pure exhaustion. You do not invite a stray dog to pee all over the living room rug and then expect me to walk barefoot on it. 6 I started ghosting him. I would cook dinner, leave it in the warmer, and escape to the hospital to sit with Hans. One evening, I was sitting by Hans’s bed, peeling an apple, when the heavy door swung open. Vincent walked in. And right behind him was Audrey. The moment Hans saw her, his eyes turned absolutely lethal. I quickly placed a hand over his, squeezing gently. I do not care anymore, so you should not either. Vincent pulled up a chair next to me, awkwardly explaining that Audrey had insisted on coming to pay her respects. He tried to ask Hans about the new medical device, but Hans just turned his head toward the window, refusing to acknowledge him. Vincent looked at me, thoroughly embarrassed. I instantly scolded Hans, forcing him to mutter a half-hearted greeting. I could not risk Hans offending the man paying the million-dollar bills. I quickly sliced a piece of apple and held it up to Vincent’s mouth. “Here, hubby. Have a bite. It is really sweet.” Vincent took the apple, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Mindy… Audrey has some legal issues to sort out back in Europe. I need to fly over there with her for a few weeks to help her get things settled.” Audrey stood behind him, crossing her arms with a smug, victorious grin. “Okay. Have a safe flight.” I waved my hand dismissively, not even looking up from the apple. Vincent stared at me. His eyes were frantic, searching my face for jealousy, anger, anything. “Mindy, do you really not have anything else to say to me?” I finally looked up, meeting his gaze with total emptiness. “Make sure you pack a heavy coat. It rains a lot over there.” Vincent’s jaw clenched in absolute fury. He grabbed Audrey by the arm and stormed out of the hospital room. “Mindy, are you okay?” Hans’s voice was hoarse, his eyes shining with guilt. “You idiot. I am perfectly fine.” Seeing Hans bite his lip, fighting back tears, broke something deep inside my chest. I gave the night nurse strict instructions to watch his monitors and finally headed home. That night, I fell into a deep sleep, only to be jolted awake by a terrifying, suffocating panic in my chest. I sat bolt upright, gasping for air. My forehead was slick with cold sweat. Right on cue, my phone started screaming on the nightstand. It was the hospital. I drove through the empty city streets like a ghost. Everything felt muffled, like I was trapped underwater. It was not until I walked into the glaring fluorescent lights of the ICU and saw the crisp white sheet pulled over Hans’s face that the world slammed back into focus. “Miss Mindy. We are so incredibly sorry. He waited until the shift change…” The head doctor was talking, apologizing, but all I heard was white noise. Hans had managed to reach the wires of his life-support monitors. He pulled them out, one by one, while the nurses were down the hall. He had to have been terrified. I stood in total silence, methodically packing his few belongings into a plastic bag. Five years. Hans had hated being trapped in that bed for five years. His bright smiles, his sarcastic jokes—it was all an act to keep me from breaking. But I was selfish. I kept him anchored to that bed because I could not bear to lose the only family I had left in the world. Now, he was finally free. I buried Hans’s ashes next to our parents, making sure he had the best spot under a massive oak tree so he would never be lonely. When I got back to the empty, echoing mansion, I sat on the floor in the dark and pulled out Hans’s cracked smartphone. I traced my thumb over the screen, finally typing in the passcode. It was my birthday. The phone unlocked. Right there on the home screen was an unsent audio memo. I pressed play.

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When my billionaire father died suddenly, my stepmother and stepsister moved into the master suite and treated me like excess baggage. At sixteen, terrified they’d steal my inheritance, I played the brainless, spoiled princess who couldn’t tell a contract’s front from its back. Rose tossed legal documents at me. I flipped two pages, tears streaming. “These words might know me, but I don’t know them.” When she urged me to sign away my rights, I clung to her neck. “You’re the best sister ever. You’d never lie to me, right?” Stepmother watched for six months, convinced I was a gullible idiot. She doubled my allowance, telling everyone I was simple and easy to please. I embraced the life of a useless trust fund baby—lounging, manicures, reality TV, lavish teas. Last month, Rose brought home her best friend, a “top-tier financial elite” from London. Stepmother handed me a thick ledger. “She’ll manage your finances. Have a look.” Fresh ink reeked from the pages. Two flips revealed white-out and altered numbers. Signing would make me guilty of embezzlement. I closed the ledger, smiling sweetly. “Thank you, Evelyn. I promise I’ll study it very hard.” 1 At my father’s funeral reception, Evelyn stood in the center of our grand living room, pressing a silk handkerchief to her eyes. She looked directly at a group of distant relatives and delivered a flawless performance. “Sandy is my own daughter now. I promise you all, I will take the absolute best care of her.” Her voice was choked with sobs but perfectly audible. The household staff stood around with their eyes downcast. I heard one of the maids whisper about how incredibly kind the madam was for taking in such useless baggage. I stood silently at the top of the grand staircase, gripping a framed photograph of my father, completely mute. That very same night, the head maid, Martha, marched up the stairs to my bedroom. “Miss Sandy, the madam said you need to pack your things and move up to the attic. She is going to completely remodel this room.” I looked up at her, my voice trembling. “But this is the room Dad decorated for me.” “The madam makes the rules now,” Martha snapped, already shoving my expensive dresses into a suitcase. I did not argue. The attic was tucked away at the very end of the third floor. When I pushed the heavy door open, a wave of damp, rotting wood and stale dust hit my face. The window frame leaked freezing air, the mattress sheets were a dingy yellow, and the single pillow bore a dark, suspicious water stain. I sat on the edge of that disgusting bed, hugging the stuffed bear my father had given me, and finally let the tears fall. I wiped my face fiercely, making a silent vow to myself. Nobody was going to protect me anymore. From this moment on, if I was going to cry, those tears needed to buy me something valuable. The door creaked open. Rose walked in carrying a bowl of plain rice and vegetables, completely failing to hide the nasty smirk on her face. She was the daughter Evelyn brought into the family from a previous marriage. We shared zero blood, but I was forced to call her my older sister. Rose slammed the bowl onto the dusty wooden desk. The ceramic clattered loudly against the wood. “Eat up, princess. Mom says this is your new kingdom.” She turned on her heel to leave. I called out to her, my voice shrinking into a pathetic squeak as I squeezed my stuffed bear tighter. “Rose… can I please go look at Dad’s room sometimes? Just to remember him?” Rose glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “What is there to look at? He is dead, get over it.” She marched down the hall, her heels clicking aggressively on the hardwood. But three days later, she came right back. This time, she wore a bright, artificial smile. She was holding a stack of legal documents, and her voice was sickeningly sweet. She spread the papers out on the desk, calling me by the pet name my father used. “Sweetie, the company needs you to sign off on some routine paperwork. It is just a formality. Just put your name right here.” I took the documents and let my eyes trail over the dense legal jargon. It was a complete transfer of shares and a formal declaration waiving my inheritance rights. Evelyn and Rose had spent three days cooking up this brilliant scheme. I found it absolutely hilarious, but when I looked up, my face was a mask of pure confusion. “Rose, these words might know me, but I definitely do not know them.” Rose forced a patient smile. “You just need to sign your name. I will take care of all the complicated stuff for you.” I shook my head violently and pushed the papers back toward her, forcing a dramatic sob. “Dad always told me never to sign things I cannot read. He said signing your name means you are making a promise, and you can never take a promise back.” Rose’s face immediately darkened. “Are you saying you do not trust your own sister?” She was always like this. Every single emotion she felt was plastered right on her face. She was almost too easy to read. I suddenly lunged forward, throwing my arms around her neck and rubbing my face against her expensive cashmere sweater. “Rose loves me the most! You would never lie to me, right? So please, sit down and read every single word to me so I can understand.” I felt Rose’s entire body go rigid. She was completely caught off guard by my clinginess. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a maid walking past the open doorway. She ripped the documents out of my hands, her face flushed with frustration. “Forget it. We will talk about this when you are older.” She stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I sat on the bed, hugging my bear, watching the closed door as the innocent smile on my face slowly vanished into a cold, flat line. Late one night about a week later, a horrifying, screeching sound pierced the silence of the attic. It was clearly a human attempting to mimic the wail of a dying cat. The sound was shrill, deliberate, and coming from just outside my door. Next came the rhythmic, eerie tapping against my drafty windowpane. A moment later, a distorted, creepy music box melody started echoing through the hallway. It sounded exactly like the background track of a cheap horror movie, bouncing off the walls in the dead of night. I curled into a ball under my thin blankets, my heart hammering against my ribs, my palms slick with cold sweat. But my panic only lasted a few seconds. I realized exactly what this was. Evelyn was trying to terrorize me. She wanted to drive me clinically insane or scare me into running away from home. Like mother, like daughter. If Evelyn wanted to get rid of me, she was reduced to using these cheap, pathetic parlor tricks. I took a deep breath, kicked off the blankets, and ran barefoot out of the room. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, crying hysterically as I sprinted down the dark staircase. “Evelyn! Evelyn, help me! There are ghosts! I am so scared!” 2 The terrified screams of a sixteen-year-old girl are incredibly loud. My voice echoed through every corner of the massive estate, blending perfectly with the creepy music she had set up in the hallway. I did not stop running until I reached the master suite. I threw my fists against Evelyn’s heavy mahogany door, pounding relentlessly. “Evelyn! Open the door! Please, I am terrified!” The door remained firmly shut. Seeing this, I instantly dialed up my performance, sobbing so hard I sounded like I was choking on my own breath. Doors began to click open upstairs and downstairs as the staff peeked out of their quarters. Martha stood at the end of the hall, clutching her robe. I heard another maid whisper to her, wondering why the madam was ignoring a terrified child. Still, the room inside remained dead silent. I pressed my face against the wood, my voice shaking in pathetic, broken gasps. “Mom… please. I am so scared. I cannot sleep alone in the dark.” The whispering in the hallway grew louder. Finally, the lock clicked. Evelyn stood in the doorway wearing a luxurious silk nightgown. Her face was a mask of suppressed rage, dark circles forming under her eyes. She opened her mouth to scold me, but I did not give her the chance. I launched myself into her arms, shivering violently, and buried my wet, snotty face right into her expensive silk chest. “Evelyn, I need to sleep with you tonight!” With the entire household staff watching her every move, Evelyn was forced to contort her furious face into a mask of maternal concern. She awkwardly patted my back, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness while her jaw was completely locked. “Alright, sweetheart. You can sleep in my room tonight.” I crawled into her massive, comfortable bed and wrapped myself tightly in her Egyptian cotton duvet. I looked up at her with eyes full of absolute adoration and dependence, while internally, I was laughing my head off. I made sure she suffered that night. I tossed and turned aggressively. I kicked the blankets off six different times. I sleep-talked nonsense four times. At three in the morning, I shot up in bed, screaming my father’s name, and then threw myself into Evelyn’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Evelyn spent the entire night replacing the blankets, waking up to my screams, and soothing my fake panic attacks. She did not get a single minute of sleep. If she wanted to maintain her image as the saintly, grieving stepmother, she had absolutely no choice but to swallow her rage and comfort the traumatized orphan. The next night, I showed up at her bedroom door again, clutching my pillow. I stared up at her with giant, pitiful eyes. “Evelyn, I am still too scared.” She tried to turn me away, but I just stood there, shivering in the hallway. A maid happened to be walking by with a stack of fresh towels, glancing in our direction. Gossip was a wealthy widow’s worst nightmare. Evelyn ground her teeth together and opened the door. From that day on, if a floorboard creaked in the attic, I was knocking on her door. Evelyn’s eye bags grew darker by the day. Her skin lost its expensive glow. On the morning of the fifth day, I heard the sharp, violent crash of porcelain shattering against the wall inside her bedroom. That afternoon, I was walking past her closed door and caught the sound of muffled arguing. Rose’s voice was sharp and impatient. “Mom, the girl is a complete idiot. Dad spoiled her so much her brain is entirely empty. Scaring her is useless. What if she actually loses her mind? How are we going to explain a crazy stepdaughter to the extended family? We are better off just keeping her happy until she turns eighteen. Then we can easily trick her into signing everything away.” There was a long silence before Evelyn let out an exhausted sigh. “You are right. Playing rough is too risky. We will keep her comfortable and complacent. It is only two more years anyway.” I stood perfectly still in the hallway, clutching my teddy bear. A slow, genuine smile spread across my face. The very next morning, Evelyn was a changed woman. She climbed the stairs to the attic, took my hand, and spoke to me in a voice as soft as velvet. “Sweetie, this room is entirely too cold for you. Let’s get you moved to the south-facing guest suite on the second floor. How does that sound?” By the afternoon, I was unpacking in a beautiful, sunlit room. Fresh silk sheets, brand-new velvet curtains, and a massive bouquet of fresh lilies sitting on the vanity. It was a massive upgrade from the moldy attic. Standing in front of the maids, Evelyn smiled warmly and announced her new policy. “Sandy is such a sweet, simple girl. From now on, she gets an allowance of twenty thousand dollars a month. She can buy whatever makes her happy.” The staff immediately began praising the madam’s generosity. Rose leaned against the staircase railing, a look of absolute disgust on her face. I squeezed my new designer stuffed animal and beamed at them with perfect, childish innocence. “Thank you so much, Evelyn! Thank you, Rose!” 3 I spent my days sleeping until noon. I would wander downstairs to eat the gourmet breakfasts Martha prepared, then collapse onto the velvet sofa to scroll through social media and watch mind-numbing reality shows. I booked expensive private manicurists to come to the house, and mountains of designer shopping bags piled up in the foyer. Evelyn and Rose watched me rot on the couch, their eyes growing more relaxed by the day. “Look at her,” Rose sneered one afternoon, stepping over a pile of my discarded fashion magazines. She did not even bother to lower her voice. “She dropped out of her prep school because she said reading gave her a headache. She is completely useless.” Evelyn took a slow sip of her black coffee, a satisfied smirk on her lips. “Useless is good. Useless means she will not cause us any trouble.” I popped a fresh strawberry into my mouth, my eyes glued to the television screen, giggling loudly at the show. But I kept a mental receipt of every single thing they did. Shortly after my father passed, his most trusted executives had secretly reached out to me. Every single quarter, I quietly reviewed the company’s confidential financial reports. Evelyn thought keeping the official documents locked in my father’s study was enough to keep me out, but she had no idea my father had told me exactly where the hidden spare key was. A few days after my seventeenth birthday, Rose walked through the front doors with a stylish stranger. Evelyn practically floated down the stairs to greet them, taking the woman’s hand affectionately before turning to me. “Sweetie, this is Rose’s best friend. She just moved back from the UK. She is a genius with money.” The woman flashed me a brilliant, over-rehearsed smile, reaching out a hand with perfectly painted crimson nails. “Just call me Amy.” I tilted my head, looking at her with wide, empty eyes. “Hi, Amy.” Amy’s smile widened, but I caught the brief, unmistakable flash of superiority in her eyes. A week later, Evelyn walked into my bedroom, her eyes artificially reddened with fake tears. She sat on the edge of my bed, pulling a thick leather binder into her lap. She grabbed my hand, her voice trembling just the right amount. “Sweetie, the company accounts your father left behind are an absolute mess. I simply cannot manage them all by myself. This is the ledger from last year. Just take a look and sign your name at the bottom to show you acknowledge it.” “Do I really have to read all this boring math?” I asked, looking thoroughly confused. Evelyn nodded sadly. “You are your father’s daughter. It is your responsibility to at least look at it.” I took the heavy binder and opened it. The paper smelled strange, like harsh chemicals and damp ink. It was the distinct smell of special erasing fluid. My eyes scanned the columns. My heart did a cold, hard flip. A thirty-million-dollar expenditure had been scratched out and rewritten as three million. The tampering was incredibly sloppy, the ghostly indentations of the original zeros still visible under the new ink. They really thought my brain was completely hollow. They were not even trying to hide their crimes. Since they were so confident in my stupidity, I had to reward them for their faith. I looked up, blinking rapidly. “Evelyn, these numbers give me a headache. Can Rose come explain them to me?” Evelyn immediately called Rose and Amy into the room. The three of them surrounded my bed. Rose forced herself to patiently point at every single line item, explaining them in a gentle, soothing voice. But I could see a bead of nervous sweat forming on her forehead. I kept pointing to the same glaring discrepancy. “But why does this line look so messy? What was the number before it got changed?” Rose’s mouth twitched. “It was just a typo by the accountant. We fixed it for you.” I pointed to another blaring error. “What about this one? Why did thirty million turn into three million?” Amy’s professional patience finally cracked. Her tone turned sharp. “You do not need to worry about the details. Just sign your name at the bottom. We are taking care of it.” My eyes instantly welled up with tears. My lower lip quivered violently. “Are you guys mad at me because I am stupid? I do not want to sign this anymore. I am going to call Mr. Harrison. He was Dad’s favorite lawyer, and he told me to call him if I ever got confused.” Mr. Harrison was the corporate attorney my father trusted with his life, and the very same man who had been secretly feeding me company updates. Rose’s face drained of all color. She lunged forward, grabbing my arm, her voice pitching up in panic. “No! Do not bother the lawyers. We are just trying to help you. Do you really think your big sister would trick you?” I looked at her, tears spilling down my cheeks, sniffling loudly. “If you promise everything is okay, then write me a guarantee. Write down on a piece of paper that signing this book will not make me lose any of my money. Then I will sign it.” Rose and Amy exchanged a long, tense look. The room was suffocatingly quiet. Amy finally gritted her teeth. “Fine. We will write it.” Rose pulled a crisp piece of stationary from my desk. She picked up a pen and wrote out a formal guarantee, stating that the ledger was entirely accurate and would not result in any financial loss to my estate. She signed her name with an angry flourish. Amy signed directly below her. I read the paper carefully, making sure the wording was ironclad, before folding it up and slipping it into my pajama pocket. Then, I picked up a pen and signed the forged ledger. I made sure my handwriting was atrocious, shaky and oversized, like a child learning cursive. I completely changed the way I held the pen, ensuring a handwriting expert would have a nightmare trying to match it to my real signature later. As soon as they had the signed book in their hands, Rose and Amy let out a simultaneous breath of relief. I saw the triumphant, greedy smiles they flashed each other before they practically ran out of the room.

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1 Vanguard Law was nothing but a three-person sweatshop when it was first founded. I poured three years of my blood, sweat, and tears into building it from the ground up, transforming it into one of the most prestigious law firms in Chicago. I personally carried more than half of the company’s total revenue on my shoulders. But when it came time to discuss my partnership equity and the commission for a ten-million-dollar mega-contract I just landed, my boss flipped the script. “Do not think you are God’s gift to this firm just because you hold a few big accounts.” “Those VIP clients do not care about you. They care about the Vanguard brand.” He fabricated an “unexcused absence” to force me out and threatened to blackball me with an airtight non-compete clause. I sat in silence for a few seconds, let out a soft laugh, and signed my resignation papers. Picking up my cardboard box, I walked to the door and tossed one last sentence over my shoulder. “By the way, those top-tier VIP clients you love so much? They are my weekend hiking buddies. They are loyal to me, not your brand. If I walk, they all walk.” … “Wendy, who gave you the nerve to pull a no-show for three days straight?” Jackson lounged back in his oversized leather executive chair, looking me up and down with a gaze so slimy it made my skin crawl. His tone was dripping with venom. “Do not think you are God’s gift to this firm just because you hold a few big accounts.” “Those VIP clients do not care about you. They care about the Vanguard brand.” “You went AWOL for three days and ignored all calls. I have every right to terminate you on the spot.” I froze, my grip tightening on the contract in my hand. “Jackson, I submitted a PTO request for those three days last week. You personally approved it. And besides…” I wanted to tell him that even though I was technically on vacation, I had spent those entire three days hiking Blackwood Peak with Mr. Preston. I did it all for the firm, and because of that trip, I successfully locked down a ten-million-dollar retainer. Jackson cut me off with a mocking sneer. “Did I approve it? Funny, I do not remember that. Did you file the paperwork with HR? Show me the physical approval slip.” I was completely boxed in. Because the trip was a last-minute opportunity, Jackson had only given me a verbal okay. Seeing my silence, his smug smile widened. “Wendy, so what if you are the golden girl of this firm?” “You vanished without a trace on company time. Several clients could not reach you.” “We all thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere, but you were out having a grand old time hiking some mountain!” He knew exactly where I was. He knew I was at Blackwood Peak, which meant he knew I was entertaining Mr. Preston. It hit me like a splash of ice water. Jackson was doing this on purpose. He was the managing partner, but for two years running, my billing numbers had utterly crushed his. He was threatened. I shook the signed contract in my hand, refusing to back down. “Blackwood Peak is high altitude, there is zero cell reception. And I was working! I secured a one-year exclusive contract with Apex Corporation. The deal is worth ten million dollars.” “Hilarious!” Jackson burst into a grating, obnoxious laugh. “Working? You really think a woman like you landed a shark like Mr. Preston strictly through legal expertise? We all know exactly how you close your deals.” He dragged his eyes over my body again, his expression so vile he might as well have called me a cheap streetwalker to my face. I slammed my hand on his desk. “Watch your mouth, Jackson. Show some respect.” “Respect?” He scoffed loudly. “What kind of hike takes three days and three nights? You want respect? Look in the mirror. You do not deserve it!” A dull ache settled in my chest. Three years ago, Vanguard was a tiny, failing operation. Jackson fed me beautiful lies about potential, promised me equity, and begged me to treat this startup like my own family. For years, I worked myself to the bone, calling in every personal favor I had to drag high-net-worth clients through our doors. In three years, I grew this firm to a hundred employees. Over fifty percent of our total revenue came directly from my client roster. Top-tier firms had tried to poach me constantly, but Jackson gave me the title of Vice President. I stayed out of loyalty to my clients. Even though I was paid significantly less than the industry standard, I never once complained. I gave this company everything. And now, Jackson was throwing me under the bus the second I outlived my usefulness? My voice dropped to absolute zero. “Are you entirely sure you want to push me out?” Jackson waved his hand dismissively. “Stop acting like you are irreplaceable. You think this firm will crumble without you?” “The only reason you have that VP title is because you have been here the longest. I have a line of actual heavyweights begging to take your corner office!” Right on cue, Jackson’s assistant, a petty guy who had hated my guts since day one, chimed in. “Oh, Wendy, did you not hear? Kyle, that guy who graduated a year behind you? He is a legal superstar now, and he is bringing tens of millions in fresh accounts with him.” Jackson took a drag of his vape and blew the vapor directly into my face. “Exactly. Kyle is golf buddies with half the CEOs in the city. If you had not been hogging the VP chair all this time, he would have taken Vanguard public by now.” Kyle? I coughed, waving the sweet, sickening vapor away from my face, as the memory clicked into place. Kyle was a junior from my law school. Sure, he was a well-known guy on campus, mostly because he failed his core classes twice. He was famously almost expelled after everyone found out he was the kept boy toy of a wealthy older woman. 2 Looking at Jackson’s treacherous face and the malicious, gloating smirks of my coworkers, a wave of pure nausea washed over me. This was the place I had poured three years of my life into. I dragged this firm out of the gutter, only to realize it was rotting from the roots all along. This dump was not worth another second of my time. I gave them exactly what they wanted. “Fine. I quit.” Jackson clearly did not expect me to fold so easily. He blinked in surprise before his smug arrogance returned tenfold. “Smart choice.” “Go pack up your garbage and get the hell out of my building.” I did not say another word. I turned on my heel, walked into my corner office, and systematically packed my life into a single cardboard box. Just as I hoisted the box and walked toward the main exit, Jackson barked across the bull pen. “Hold on.” Two male associates dragged a rusted metal mop bucket to the center of the walkway, directly in my path. The water inside was a filthy, sludgy gray, reeking of bleach and mildew. I frowned. “What is this?” Jackson crossed his arms, looking down his nose at me like I was a pest. “Step over it. We need to cleanse the stench you are leaving behind. Vanguard is too classy to harbor a toxic plague like you.” “Especially a woman who traded favors on her back to get to the top. It is disgusting.” He was not even trying to hide it anymore. He was publicly slut-shaming me in front of the entire office. The two associates who dragged the bucket over started snickering. “Oh right, I guess we cannot call her VP Wendy anymore. Hey, since you are unemployed now, maybe your nightly rates will go down?” “Must be nice being a woman. Just bat your eyelashes, whisper sweet nothings in the right ear, and skip right to the top of the corporate ladder.” “Honestly, knowing I had to take orders from her for a year makes me want to puke!” I actually laughed. A year ago, those exact two associates were on the verge of being fired by Jackson for failing their probationary assessments and botching their paperwork. I was the one who pulled them onto my core team, hand-held them through massive projects, and saved their jobs! What an absolute pack of rabid dogs. I dropped all pretense of being professional. While they were still laughing, I took a step back, planted my left foot, and delivered a vicious roundhouse kick directly into the side of the metal bucket. Crash! The heavy bucket went flying across the polished marble floor. Gallons of filthy, gray water and grimy mop strings exploded everywhere, soaking the pristine shoes and tailored pants of the men mocking me. Screams and curses erupted across the room. “Are you insane?!” Jackson shrieked, jumping back to save his Italian loafers. I did not give him a second glance. Ignoring the utter chaos behind me, I walked straight out the glass double doors of Vanguard Law with my head held high. Standing on the sidewalk, the cool Chicago breeze washed away the lingering heat of my anger. Honestly, finding out a company was pure poison before wasting another year of my life there was a blessing in disguise! Jackson truly believed the firm was going to skyrocket without me? I could not wait to watch it burn. I pulled out my phone and opened my pinned group chat. It had exactly four members, titled “Summit Squad.” I did not type out a long explanation. I did not cry. I just sent three words. “I got fired.” The chat was dead silent for exactly three seconds. Then, my phone started vibrating violently. Lincoln texted first. [Did you not just hand them the Apex contract from Preston? Why the hell would they fire you?!] I sent a quick voice memo. “Jackson claimed I went AWOL during the three days I was hiking Blackwood Peak with Preston.” Lincoln was a legendary real estate mogul in the city. He owned half the commercial blocks downtown and had a notoriously short temper. He immediately fired back an audio message. “I am bringing my security team down there right now to bulldoze that pathetic little office! If it was not for you, Val, I would never have let a dumpster-fire firm like that touch my legal work!” Felix jumped in next. His tone was fiercely protective. “Do not stress, sis. I am hacking their mainframe right now. I will clone their entire client database and pack it up for you!” Felix was a tech billionaire prodigy. He loved playing around with cybersecurity. When he found out I was working at a no-name firm, he casually tossed a three-million-dollar tech contract onto my desk just to be supportive. I typed a quick, collective response. “I am a lawyer, guys. We do not commit cybercrimes or property damage.” Right after that, Victoria’s name popped up. She was the oldest and most successful of our crew. She sent a full sixty-second voice note, her tone absolutely lethal. “Vanguard is burning the bridge after crossing the river. They got a taste of real money, realized they are close to an IPO, and terminated you so they do not have to pay out your promised equity. What absolute trash. If Vanguard does not have you, they do not deserve my business. I am terminating my contract with them today.” I typed frantically. “Wait, what about the penalty fees?” “I am a billionaire, honey. I can afford a penalty fee!” Almost simultaneously, two more messages popped up. Lincoln: “Agree. Contract terminated. I will pay the damn fee!” Felix: “Yeah. Contract terminated. Send them the bill!” 3 Looking at the glowing text bubbles, the last shadow of gloom in my heart completely vanished. Vanguard was garbage, but my friends were worth their weight in gold. That evening, I polished my resume and sent out a few applications. The very next morning, I woke up to an email invitation for a senior partner interview at Pinnacle Law. Time: 11:00 AM. I quickly threw on a sharp, charcoal-gray tailored suit and headed over. An HR rep guided me down a long, sleek corridor and stopped in front of a frosted glass door marked “VIP Conference Room.” I straightened my collar and pushed the door open. Sitting at the massive oak table were two faces I knew intimately well. Sitting in the primary interviewer’s chair was my former boss, Jackson. Lounging next to him, with his feet propped up on the table, was my lovely junior, Kyle. They were both staring at me with the predatory, mocking grins of cats who had just cornered a mouse. Everything clicked into place. I had been wondering why Pinnacle Law reached out so fast when I had not even applied to them. This was not an interview. This was a carefully orchestrated trap. Jackson leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “Wendy, you are unemployed. As your former mentor and your dear junior, we were just so worried about you.” “I pulled a massive favor with Pinnacle’s managing partner to get you in this room today. Just wanted to see if you actually bring any real value to the table.” Kyle let out a cocky laugh. “Yeah, Wendy. You were such a hotshot back in law school. We all just wanted to see if you had any actual bite left without the Vanguard brand backing you up.” I calmly pulled out the leather chair opposite them and sat down gracefully. “Alright then. Let’s begin the interview.” My face showed zero traces of the anger or humiliation they were desperately hoping for. Jackson was thrown off balance. He stared at me for a long moment before finally asking, “Word on the street is your clients are loyal to you, not the firm. If Pinnacle hires you, how do we know you will not use some dirty, underhanded tactics to steal our clients when you leave?” I smiled, my words sharp as glass. “If you are terrified of losing clients, the root issue is your firm’s sheer incompetence, not the employees. Jackson, you literally just told me yesterday that Vanguard’s success was entirely due to the Vanguard brand, not me. Why are you suddenly so terrified?” “You—” Jackson choked on his words, his face flushing dark red. He glared at me, completely speechless. Kyle patted Jackson on the shoulder. “Let me handle this.” “You?” I let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. “You do not have the basic qualifications to ask me a single legal question. You barely passed your core classes, and you never once beat me in a collegiate mock trial.” “As for the cases you have personally litigated since passing the bar? A solid zero percent win rate. That alone should have you permanently nailed to the wall of shame.” “Oh, wait, my bad. You have beaten me in one category. You are an absolute master at kissing up to rich cougars to pay your bills, right?” Kyle bolted upright like a cat whose tail had been stomped on. His face turned a dangerous shade of purple. “You are spitting pure slander!” I was done playing their game. I grabbed my purse. “Do not worry, boys. I am going to do phenomenally well without Vanguard.” I turned to leave, but Jackson suddenly tossed a thick legal document across the table. It slid to a stop right in front of me. “You really are a streetwalker with a sharp tongue! You think you are so brilliant? So capable?! Let me tell you a harsh truth. Without Vanguard, you are nothing but a stray dog!” I picked up the document. It was my original employment contract. But attached to the back were two freshly printed pages. A non-compete agreement. “Read it and weep, Wendy. It is right there in black and white. For three years post-termination, you are legally barred from seeking employment at any rival law firm in this city.” “I have already called every major managing partner in Chicago. Anyone who hires you is declaring open war on Vanguard!” I had underestimated just how venomous Jackson could be. He did not just want to fire me, he wanted to permanently obliterate my entire career. He soaked in the silence, his voice trembling with sadistic pleasure. “You think you are so tough? You think signing one ten-million-dollar deal makes you royalty? I am going to make sure that without my permission, you do not even have the right to beg for scraps in this industry!” I looked at their smug, punchable faces and let out a soft laugh. “I cannot wait to see you try.” He wanted to blacklist me? He clearly had not asked the other three billionaires in the “Summit Squad” if they approved of his little plan. Just as the words left my mouth, Jackson’s cell phone started ringing frantically on the table. He picked it up, and the color instantly drained from his face. He gasped, his eyes going wide with pure terror. “What?! Victoria from Vogue Enterprises is canceling her retainer?”

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1 Justine saw the Disneyland passes online and booked two tickets without hesitation. One for herself and one for her best friend Jared. After linking them to her account, she glanced at me. “Got your ticket yet?” I watched them walk toward security, shoulders brushing, then swallowed hard and bought a single adult pass. By the time I entered, Jared had messaged our group chat. “Taking too long, Marc. We’re hitting rides first. Don’t wait up.” On a trip for three, they always walked together. I was the one left behind. I deleted my draft that said I was coming to find them. Jared posted a photo of him and Justine in matching Mickey ears, faces close. The caption read, “Celebrating our 30th photo together.” In ten days in Los Angeles, they had taken thirty photos. I had been left behind thirty times. At dusk, crowds gathered for fireworks. I finally found them. Justine smiled and held up her phone. “Marcus, let me take your picture!” I stood alone under the glowing castle, flashing a stiff peace sign. Before I lowered my hand, she shoved the phone back and looped her arm around Jared. “Now take one of us! We want the castle like Nick and Judy.” I stared at the screen, handed the phone back, and walked away. This summer trip would never have the ending I had imagined. Justine hurried after me, catching my arm. “The fireworks aren’t even over. Where are you going? Don’t wander off and get lost again.” I blinked against the stinging in my eyes, forcing a smile as I turned back. But my gaze fell instantly on their tightly intertwined hands. The smile died on my face. “I think I want to go back to the hotel.” “Justine, hurry up! The crowd is moving, we need to grab the best viewing spot up front!” Jared’s voice cut over mine, loud and urgent. Justine didn’t hesitate. She let go of my arm, turned around, and pulled Jared into the throng. The surging crowd quickly swallowed them up, pushing me further and further away. It occurred to me then that even if I stood perfectly still, they would still find a way to leave me behind. As the fireworks erupted into brilliant colors behind me, I walked out of the park gates. I stared blankly at the gridlock of cars stretching into the night. Before we left, Justine had insisted on making all the plans herself, claiming she couldn’t trust me to handle the logistics. Now, I was left to navigate the unfamiliar transit system alone, following the signs toward the subway station. A hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder from behind. Justine was panting, her face slick with sweat, but her voice carried a sharp chill. “You’ve been pulling away from us all day. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to try and enjoy the park while constantly searching for you?” “I’m sorry…” The familiar apology died in my throat. During the past thirty times I had been abandoned, I was always the one who apologized. Jared draped an arm over my shoulder, offering a sweet, easy smile. “Don’t mind her, Marc. She’s just a typical blunt girl, she doesn’t know how to show she cares about guys.” I looked at the heavy backpacks Justine was carrying, along with the giant stuffed animals they had won at the carnival games. Taking a step to the side, I let Jared’s arm slip off my shoulder. “Looks to me like she knows how to care for you just fine,” I said quietly. Jared grinned at Justine. “Aw, looks like our little Marcus is jealous.” Justine scowled, her irritation flashing clearly in her eyes. “He’s passive-aggressive from morning to night. Who has the energy to decode his constant mood swings?” Before I could reply, she spotted a large rideshare vehicle pulling up to the curb. She grabbed Jared’s hand and pulled him toward it. “Those people are looking for passengers to split the fare! Come on, let’s go negotiate with them.” After walking a few steps, she seemed to remember I was there. She turned around, calling out over the din of the traffic. “Marcus, stop throwing a fit. This is the busiest hour, and it’s impossible to get a private ride. Jared and I are taking this one. You find three other people to split another car.” Jared waved energetically from the window as the car door slid shut. “See you at the hotel, Marcus!” I stood frozen on the sidewalk, watching the sleek black car merge into the sea of taillights. At that moment, the sheer panic and humiliation of being abandoned in an unfamiliar city at midnight finally broke me. Tears spilled over my cheeks, and I wept openly under the streetlights, ignored by the rushing crowds. I remembered the day high school ended. Justine had been the one to suggest this trip to Los Angeles. She had looked into my eyes under the schoolyard trees and said, “Marcus, let’s be official.” But when we arrived at the station on the day of departure, I found out she had bought a ticket for Jared, too. I pulled out my phone and sent her a text. Justine, let’s break up. Her reply came almost instantly. Marcus, are you serious? Are you really throwing a tantrum just because Jared and I walked together today? I did it for your own sake. Your leg can’t handle long walks anyway. Whenever I complained, Justine’s excuse was always that she was doing it “for my own sake.” But the only reason my leg couldn’t handle long walks was because of them. During the summer before our senior year, we had taken Jared’s family’s beat-up minivan to the coast. Jared had insisted on swapping seats with me, forcing me into the passenger side while he played a rowdy game of charades with Justine in the back. They got so wild that Jared accidentally slammed into the driver’s seat, forcing the steering wheel out of control. The van crashed violently into a rock wall. The crumpled passenger door crushed my leg. During the most intense months of exam prep, I had to navigate school with a heavy plaster cast. Justine had carried me on her back up the stairs for an entire semester. I had allowed myself to believe she did it out of love. Now, I realized it was nothing more than guilt. It was nearly midnight by the time I managed to find a rideshare. Since my destination was the furthest, the other passengers gradually filtered out, leaving me alone in the back seat. I opened the maps app on my phone and realized the driver had veered off the main highway, heading down a dark, unfamiliar road. Panic seized me. I shared my live location to the group chat, tagging both of them repeatedly. Where are you guys? Can you look at my route? This driver is taking a very sketchy turn. Justine, call me on speaker right now so he knows someone is expecting me. Are you guys there? The silence stretching inside the car was suffocating. Finally, my phone buzzed with a message from Jared. I wiped the cold sweat from my palms and tapped it open. Marc, stop spamming the chat. Justine and I are in the middle of a mobile game and the connection keeps lagging because of your notifications. I stared at the words on the screen for a full minute, and then a dry, hollow laugh escaped my chest. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his voice gruff but kind. “Hey kid, we’re pretty far out. You should send a message to your family to let them know you’re safe.” I nodded numbly, thanking him, but the tears kept silent pace down my face. When I finally reached the hotel, Justine was sitting on the steps near the lobby. Seeing me limp toward her, she let out a long, weary sigh. “Marcus, it took you two hours to get a rideshare. I don’t even know what to say to you.” I brushed past her, keeping my head down. “Did you see my messages?” She looked up, her eyes vacant. “What messages?” Jared walked out of the lobby doors, casually messing up my hair. “Hey, look who finally decided to show up. We thought you got lost in the city forever.” He sat down on the wicker chair next to Justine, immediately leaning over her shoulder to analyze their last game match. I turned and walked toward the elevators. As the metal doors slid shut, separating me from the two of them, I caught my reflection in the polished steel. My face was pale, my eyes bloodshot and swollen. The lingering hesitation in my heart finally died. I pulled out my phone and sent a voice note to my mother. “Mom, I want to go to McGill. I’m not going to Stanford.” My mother, hearing the exhaustion in my voice, asked if Justine and I had fought. I didn’t give her a direct answer. The next morning, Jared’s bed remained perfectly made. He hadn’t slept in the room last night. The group chat was completely silent. Justine had sent me two private messages in the middle of the night. Marcus, I just saw the group chat. Next time you call a rideshare, make sure the license plate matches the app. She followed it with a link to a safety blog post about how to protect yourself in a stranger’s car. There was no apology, no concern. Just cold, clinical advice. I deleted the link and walked out of the room, determined to end things clearly. I wanted to tell her that this trip was a disaster, and that I was leaving. But when I knocked on her door, there was no answer. I called Jared’s phone. Justine answered. “You’re awake? The hotel breakfast runs until ten, make sure you grab something.” “Where are you guys?” I asked. The line went quiet for a moment before Jared’s voice took over. “Hey Marc, the hotel gave us a free couple’s photoshoot package that expires today. Since you were sleeping in, Justine said we shouldn’t bother you. So we just came out to do it ourselves.” “The photographer is waiting on us, so you just relax at the hotel, okay?” In the background, I heard the photographer’s muffled voice. “Come on, guys, show some affection! You’re a couple, don’t be shy. Press your cheek against hers, perfect, now hold that!” My fingers trembled, and I hung up the phone. To distract myself, I booked a last-minute ticket to a local museum. Subconsciously, I wanted to prove a point. I wanted to show them that I could have fun on my own, that I could be the one to abandon them. But the truth was, they didn’t care. When Justine found out I was at the museum, she sent a brief text. Cool. Jared and I are meeting an old classmate for lunch. Have fun, let’s meet up at the night market tonight. It was noon. They had just finished their photoshoot. It was clear they had never intended to invite me to their lunch. That evening, the night market was packed. When Justine saw me, the relaxed expression on her face instantly tightened into a frown. She handed me a cup of boba tea, her voice laced with annoyance. “Finally, the young master decides to grace us with his presence.” Jared took a long sip of his own drink, his eyes lingering on the iced lemon tea Justine was holding. Without a word, Justine naturally handed her cup to him. Jared took a drink, complained it was too sour, and handed it back. The gesture was so seamless, so practiced, it was obvious they did it all the time when I wasn’t looking. I slowed my pace, letting them drift ahead until the distance between us stretched. As I walked with my head down, a sudden, heavy force slammed into my shoulder. A cup of sweet milk tea splattered all over my shirt, and a man’s phone flew out of his hand, crashing onto the pavement. The screen shattered into a web of cracks. The man grabbed my arm with a crushing grip, nearly tearing the skin off my wrist. “Are you fucking blind? This is a brand new phone! Pay for it!” In the chaos, I looked over the heads of the crowd, locking eyes with Justine. But she was looking in the opposite direction, frantically pulling at Jared’s sleeve. Jared was in a heated argument with a street vendor over a failed digital payment. “Justine! I have a problem over here, can you help me?” I called out. Seeing me turn my head, the man slammed me hard against a brick wall. I fell to the ground, and his heavy boot stepped directly onto my swollen ankle, grinding down. A wave of white-hot agony washed over me, and my vision went dark. Across the street, Jared finally settled his dispute with the vendor. Justine looked back toward me one last time. Her gaze lingered on my collapsed form for less than a second before Jared grabbed her hand and pulled her around the corner. In the end, it was an elderly bystander who called the police for me. By the time I finished giving my statement at the station and returned to the hotel, it was long past midnight. I limped through the lobby, my ankle twice its normal size, throbbing with a dull, sickening heat. Justine came rushing out of the elevator when she heard the noise, holding a plastic bag of ice and spray from a local pharmacy. She knelt down, trying to touch my ankle. “Let’s ice it first, then use the spray. We’ll see how it looks tomorrow.” I stared down at her face. She possessed a cold, analytical maturity that felt entirely unnatural for her age. Her movements were gentle, but all I felt was a freezing numbness. “You saw me, didn’t you?” Her hands paused on my ankle, but she didn’t look up. “I didn’t see any fight. Jared was arguing with the vendor, and I was trying to keep him from escalating things.” Her voice was perfectly level, her expression unchanged. I stared at her, realizing how pathetic I had been. Jared stood behind her, casually chewing on a candied apple, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Marc, you really shouldn’t be so spacey in crowded places. You have to watch where you’re going.” Justine let out a soft laugh. “You’re acting like you just met him. He’s always been clumsy, constantly getting lost.” “Did I choose to get lost?” my voice cracked, cold and sharp. “You saw me. Why didn’t you come?” The warmth drained from her face, replaced by a flash of deep irritation. “Your situation was an issue, but Jared’s wasn’t?” I forced myself up, the agony in my ankle making me gasp for air, but I refused to let myself crawl before her anymore. “Justine, if I’m always your second choice, then don’t bother pretending to care.” “Justine, go after him,” Jared murmured from behind her, his voice soft and helpless. Justine raised her voice, her anger finally breaking through. “Don’t bother! We agreed to travel as a group, but he is the only one playing the victim!” I hobbled back to my room, packed my bags, and booked the earliest train ticket home. When I opened my phone, I saw a new post in the group chat. Jared had uploaded a group photo of the three of us from the night market. It was the first time in eleven days that I had appeared in their photos. He tagged me. Marc, Justine said this trip was to make up for the sophomore trip I missed. I didn’t know my presence bothered you this much. If it does, I’ll buy a ticket and leave tomorrow. The implication was clear. I was the interloper. Years ago, during our sophomore summer, Justine had crashed her bicycle into Jared, causing him to undergo a minor brain surgery. Even though the doctors said it was an accident, she had carried the guilt ever since. From that point on, Jared had inserted himself between us, an immovable wedge. Justine’s reply in the group chat was swift. I won’t allow you to leave. Her favoritism was absolute. On my feed, Jared had posted a grid of their couple’s photoshoot. In the photos, Justine was smiling at him, holding his hand, looking into his eyes with a tenderness she had never shown me. Our high school classmates were already leaving comments, congratulating them on going official. I liked the post and added a comment. You two make a perfect couple. Minutes later, my hotel door was slammed open. Justine stood there, her eyes flashing with fury as she grabbed my arm. “What is your problem? Why are you leaving passive-aggressive comments on Jared’s post? He ran off because of you!” I stumbled against the wall, my freshly iced ankle twisting again. “Jared is gone?” “Yes! Thanks to you!” she screamed. The urgency of finding him seemed to override her anger. I swallowed my tears, limping after her as we searched the dark streets. We split up to cover more ground, and I called Jared’s phone dozens of times, getting nothing but voicemail. At dawn, I dragged myself back to the hotel. I pushed open the door to their room and froze. Empty beer bottles littered the floor. On the narrow sofa, Justine had her arms wrapped tightly around Jared’s waist, the two of them fast asleep, tangled together. The sight was the final spark on a long-neglected fuse. The fragile thread of my sanity snapped. I grabbed a heavy pillow from the bed and began thrashing them with it, screaming in a frenzy. Did they have any idea how dangerous the streets were at night? Did they care that my leg was screaming in pain? Jared woke up with a start, his eyes red and swollen with fear. He reached out to stop me. “Marcus, I’m sorry! My phone broke last night, and Justine’s phone died!” I slapped his hand away with all my strength, leaving a bright red mark on his skin. Justine shoved me back violently, her face dark as night. “Marcus! If you hate seeing us together this much, then get out of this trip! The moment you walk away, our promise is dead!” I tripped over the edge of the rug, my injured ankle slamming hard against the wooden bedpost. The pain was blinding, but I forced myself to laugh, a loud, hysterical sound to mask the utter humiliation. “You’re already sharing a bed. Why are we even pretending?” I dragged my suitcase out of the room. Behind me, Jared called my name, but Justine’s cold voice cut him off. “Let him go! He thinks the whole world has to revolve around him.” When my mother met me at the train station back home, she took one look at my purple, swollen ankle and gasped. At the clinic, the doctor stared at the X-rays, his brow furrowed in concern. “This started as a minor strain, but the continuous stress has caused a complete rupture of the Achilles tendon. Even after surgery, you’ll have difficulty flexing your heel. You’ll likely walk with a permanent limp.” I sat in silence. My mother held my head against her chest, her tears wetting my hair. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll find the best doctors. We’ll fix this.” The small examination room filled with the sound of my weeping. A notification popped up in the group chat. It was Jared. Marc, Justine wants me to apply to the vocational school near Stanford. I checked, and the campus is right down the road. We can all be together again, I’m so happy! I left the group chat and blocked both of them. Jared continued to broadcast their trip on the main class group chat. Thirtieth photo with Justine. We’re at the Griffith Observatory today. Someone told me this is the ultimate place to confess. Is that true? Should we try it? The chat erupted with classmates egging them on. And then, Jared posted a video. Justine was holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers, standing on the observation deck overlooking the city lights. Her voice was soft but clear. “Jared, you win. Let’s be together.” From behind the camera, Jared laughed. “Okay!” My chest gave a violent, painful squeeze. On the night she had agreed to be my girlfriend under the streetlights, she had promised to bring my favorite sunflowers to our college send-off and confess to me properly. Now, those flowers and that promise belonged to Jared. Three days later, Justine sent me a text. Marcus, you are so difficult to please. Because of your attitude, I lost a bet to Jared and have to be his girlfriend for three months. When you get to Stanford, don’t come see me too often. I don’t want Jared to get upset. I’ll reach out to you when the bet is over. But by then, I was already boarding a flight to Montreal. Justine decided to let me simmer for a few days, convinced I would come around. On the morning of her flight to Stanford, she woke up early and took a taxi to my house, intending to surprise me. She hesitated at the door for three long minutes, practicing how she would explain that she and Jared were planning to rent an apartment together near campus. The door opened, and my mother stood there, looking at her with cold surprise. “Mrs. Zhou, I’m here to pick up Marcus so we can head to the airport together,” Justine said, offering her most polite smile. But my mother’s response shattered her composure. “Justine, Marcus went to McGill.”

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