Three years after my death, Julian found our daughter in a dumpster. The little girl was digging through a rotten trash can, her tiny body turning purple from the freezing cold. With bloodshot eyes, he yanked her up. “Is this how Stella plays mother?! Where the hell is she?!” My daughter trembled in terror. “But… didn’t Daddy throw Mommy out, and didn’t she burn to death?” I floated in mid-air, looking down at this man whom I had loved for ten years and hated for three. Julian, you’re finally here. But it’s too late. Mia had already flushed my ashes down the drain. And your karma has only just begun. Julian’s hand froze in mid-air. My daughter’s words were like a blunt knife, stabbing ruthlessly into his heart. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but no sound came out. “W-what did you say?” His voice shook violently. Luna shrunk her neck, her tiny, frail body shivering in the biting wind. “Nana said… Mommy was thrown out of the house by Daddy. She had nowhere to go, so she lived in the old, broken cabin. Then… then the cabin caught fire, and Mommy couldn’t get out.” She looked up. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t cry. “Nana also said that Daddy didn’t want Mommy anymore, and that’s why Mommy died.” Julian took a sharp step back, almost stumbling to the ground. “No,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “It wasn’t me.” “Then why didn’t Daddy want Mommy?” Luna asked directly. Children’s questions are always the sharpest. “Why did Daddy refuse to give Mommy money for her medical bills when she was sick? Why did Mommy have to take me to sleep under the bridge while Daddy lived in a giant mansion?” Every single “why” was like a brutal slap to his face. I hovered in the air, watching the color completely drain from Julian’s face. Karma? This was barely the beginning. I floated a bit lower, wanting to get a clearer view of his expression. Over the past three years, I had seen many of his faces—smiling gently at Mia, screaming in fury at his employees. But I had never seen him look like this. He looked like his soul had been violently ripped out of his body. How amusing. Julian reached out, trying to take Luna’s hand, but she flinched and hid both hands behind her back. “What’s wrong with your hands?” Julian knelt down. Luna shook her head. Julian gently pulled her hands forward. Those tiny hands were swollen red from the frostbite, her fingernails caked with black dirt. On the back of her left hand, there was a jagged, scabbed wound, looking like it had been sliced by something sharp. “How did you get this?” “I cut it on some broken glass when I was collecting plastic bottles,” Luna whispered. “Mommy used to get hurt like this too. She told me to be careful, but I’m just too clumsy.” Tears almost spilled from Julian’s eyes. He remembered that Stella’s hands used to be incredibly beautiful—slender, soft, and fair. When they got married, he slipped the ring onto her finger and promised her that these hands would only ever play the piano and arrange flowers, never to do hard labor. But later, she had to take their daughter to scavenge through trash, and those hands were completely ruined. Ruined by his own hands. I stared at the wound on Luna’s hand. I knew that cut all too well. In the final month before my death, I had an identical one on my hand. I got it while scavenging for broken glass to sell. I didn’t even have money for a band-aid, so I wrapped it in a dirty rag. It got infected later, and it throbbed with excruciating pain for half a month. Now, that very same scar had grown onto my daughter’s hand.

Julian carried Luna into his car, his movements so gentle and cautious, as if he were holding a piece of fragile porcelain. The heater in the car was blasting, yet Luna was still shivering. Not from the cold, but from sheer terror. “Don’t be scared,” Julian said, his voice incredibly soft as he buckled her seatbelt. “Daddy is here.” Luna stared at him, her eyes filled with complete unfamiliarity. “Are you really my daddy?” “Yes.” “Then why didn’t you come find me for three years?” It felt like something was choking Julian. Why? Because Mia told him that Stella had run away with another man, taking the child with her. She told him Luna wasn’t even his blood. At that time, Mia had even produced “proof”—a photo of me standing close to a strange man. The photo was photoshopped, but he believed it instantly. What had he said back then? “A woman like Stella is better off dead anyway.” Looking back now, how utterly pathetic. Suddenly, Luna asked, “Daddy, did it hurt when Mommy died?” Julian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened instantly. “Nana said burning to death hurts a lot,” Luna said to herself. “Mommy said she was always terrified of fire. Once, she burned her hand while cooking and cried for ages. But when she died, she was surrounded by fire.” “Stop it,” Julian cut her off, his voice trembling. Luna looked at him, shut her mouth obediently, and turned her gaze to the window. But her tiny hands were shaking. I was all too familiar with the streets passing by outside the car window. I had walked those streets countless times, holding Luna in one hand and dragging a heavy woven bag in the other, digging through every single dumpster. On a good day, I could collect twenty bottles, cash them in for fifty cents, and buy Luna two small buns. Now, Julian’s luxury car was driving on this exact road. He probably had no idea that right where his tires were rolling, I had taken a terrible fall three years ago. My knees had scraped open, and my blood had seeped into the cracks of the asphalt. The car finally pulled into a gated hilltop estate in Beverly Hills. Luna pressed her face against the car window, her eyes wide with awe. She had never seen such a beautiful house. It looked like a castle from a fairy tale. “Is this… Daddy’s house?” “It’s our house,” Julian corrected her. The grand front door opened, and Mia walked out wearing a silk nightgown, her face adorned with her usual sweet, gentle smile. But then, she saw Luna. Her smile froze instantly. “Julian, who is this…?” “My daughter.” Julian carried Luna down. “She’s living here from now on.” Mia’s face turned pale for a second, but she quickly masked it. “Is this Stella’s child? She looks so much like her.” She reached out, wanting to touch Luna’s face. Luna shrank back, hiding behind Julian’s legs. “She’s not my auntie,” Luna said in a quiet but crystal-clear voice. “She’s a bad person. Mommy told me that because of her, Daddy didn’t want us anymore.” The air froze instantly. Mia’s eyes welled up with tears immediately. “Julian, how can a child say such horrible things?” “Did she say anything wrong?” Julian suddenly asked. Mia froze. “The fire three years ago.” Julian stared at her, enunciating every single word. “You set it, didn’t you?”

All the color drained from Mia’s face in an instant. “Julian, what on earth are you talking about?” “I asked you, did you set that fire three years ago?” Julian took a menacing step forward, his aura terrifyingly oppressive. “The cabin Stella rented had two separate ignition points. It was clearly arson. You were spotted there that night.” “I… I only went there to talk to her! But I didn’t set any fire!” “Then why did you lie to me?” Julian’s eyes were dead cold. “You told me Stella ran away with another man. You told me Luna wasn’t my daughter. You even showed me those photos. I had someone run a forensic analysis on them recently—they were photoshopped.” Mia stumbled backward, her back slamming against the doorframe. “Why did you do it?” Julian’s voice cracked. “What did Stella ever do to deserve this from you? She paid for your college tuition for three years! She treated you like her own sister!” “Because she stole you from me!” Mia suddenly shrieked, tears pouring down her face. “I met you first! I loved you first! Why did you only have eyes for her the moment she appeared?!” “And just because of that, you burned her alive?!” “I didn’t mean to burn her to death!” Mia screamed hysterically. “I only… I only changed her door locks and nailed her windows shut! I just wanted to scare her! I wanted to force her to leave this city! I had no idea a fire would break out that night!” A loud ringing went off in Julian’s head. Locked doors. Nailed windows. That massive fire had raged for two whole hours. Three fire trucks had to be deployed. In the end, what they carried out was a charred, unrecognizable corpse. The coroner said the victim had desperately tried to escape, but because the doors and windows were completely sealed, she was roasted alive inside. “You…” Julian was shaking all over. “Do you have any idea that is first-degree murder?” “I didn’t want to kill her! I just wanted to teach her a lesson!” Mia sobbed, grabbing his sleeve desperately. “Julian, I love you! I did all of this because I love you!” Julian shook her off violently, as if she were some disgusting piece of filth. “Arthur, call the police.” “Wait!” Mia lunged forward, clawing at him. “Julian, I’m pregnant! It’s your baby! You can’t do this to me!” Julian’s footsteps halted. “That night you got drunk… you mistook me for Stella.” Mia cried, her makeup completely ruined. “I’ve been carrying your baby for two months now. Do you really have the heart to let our child be born without a father?” Julian closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his gaze was as cold as ice. “Abort it.” “What?” “I will never acknowledge it,” he said, deadpan. “The only children I will ever have are the ones Stella gave birth to. Whatever is in your womb is nothing to me.” Mia collapsed onto the floor, her face as pale as ashes. I floated in the living room, watching this absolute circus. Mia’s acting was as stellar as always—her tears flowed right on cue. Too bad her audience wasn’t buying it this time. As Julian turned around, I noticed his fingers were trembling. Was he terrified? Terrified of what? Terrified that the child in Mia’s womb might actually be his? It didn’t matter anymore. After all, when I died, I had one in my womb too. Two lives lost in one body. The debt he owed me could never, ever be repaid.

The police arrived incredibly fast. As Mia was being dragged away in handcuffs, she was still screaming and cursing like a maniac. “Julian! You will regret this! I flushed Stella’s ashes down the drain years ago! She doesn’t even have a grave! You will never, ever be able to lay flowers for her!” Julian stood at the doorway, his body swaying weakly. Her ashes… flushed down the drain? Luna tugged at his coat, whispering, “Daddy, what are ashes?” Julian knelt down, looking into his daughter’s innocent eyes, his heart breaking into a million jagged pieces. “It’s… the last thing Mommy left behind for us.” “Then why did that auntie flush Mommy away?” “Because she is a bad person.” Julian pulled his daughter tightly into his arms, his voice cracking with heavy sobs. “I’m so sorry, Luna. Daddy is so sorry. I failed you… and I failed Mommy.” Luna raised her tiny hand and gently patted his back. “Mommy told me that if you make a mistake, you just have to say sorry. Since Daddy said sorry, Mommy will definitely forgive you.” No. I will never forgive him. Julian knew deep down that Stella would never, ever forgive him. The way he held Luna was incredibly awkward and stiff. Luna was three years old, but he had never once held her before. When she was born, he was away on a business trip. By the time he returned, she was already a month old. He had only spared her a single glance, remarked on how small she was, and never touched her again. Now, he held her so tightly, as if she would vanish the second he let go. But unfortunately, the one who was meant to vanish had already gone three years ago. That night, Luna ran a dangerously high fever. Julian stayed by her bedside, constantly changing the wet towel on her forehead. Luna cried out for her mommy in her sleep, and he held her tiny hand, repeating desperately that Daddy was here. “Mommy… fire! The fire is so big!” “Mommy can’t get out!” “Mommy, it hurts!” Julian buried his face into his daughter’s tiny hands, his tears soaking the bedsheets. He remembered that night three years ago. Mia had snuggled into his arms, crying, “Julian, Stella sent me a text saying she doesn’t want to live anymore. I’m so scared. Please go check on her.” At that time, he was in the middle of negotiating a multi-million dollar merger. “She’s just throwing another tantrum,” he had said impatiently. “Ignore her.” “But…” “I said ignore her!” Only much later did he find out that Stella had actually called him seventeen times that night. He hadn’t answered a single one. The very last call was at 11:08 PM. The call had connected, but no one spoke. There was only the sound of violent, agonizing coughing, and the terrifying crackle of roaring flames. What had he said back then? “Stella, are you seriously not done yet? If you want to die, go die somewhere far away. Stop bothering me.” And then, he hung up. That was the last phone call she ever made to him. Luna suddenly bolted awake, her eyes filled with absolute terror. “Daddy… I dreamed of Mommy.” “What did you dream of, sweetie?” “Mommy was in the fire. She kept calling your name.” Luna’s tears spilled over. “She was screaming, ‘Julian, save me!’ But nobody came. Daddy, where were you?” Julian opened his mouth, but his throat was completely paralyzed. Luna stared at him. The confusion in her eyes slowly turned into disappointment, and then into a tragic, heartbreaking understanding that no three-year-old child should ever possess. “Daddy didn’t go to save Mommy, did you?” Julian’s tears fell like rain. “I’m sorry…” Luna turned her body away, presenting her back to him, her tiny shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She didn’t say another word. But Julian knew his daughter now understood everything. I floated beside the bed, staring at Luna’s trembling back. Those fragile, tiny shoulders looked exactly like the last image I had of her before I died. I couldn’t escape the fire, so I had forced her inside a heavy steel cabinet. The cabinet had small ventilation slits, and the fire couldn’t reach inside. I had whispered, “Luna, be a good girl. Close your eyes and count to a thousand. Mommy will come get you then.” She had actually closed her eyes and started counting, “One, two, three…” I heard her count all the way to one hundred and thirty-seven before my world went completely silent. It wasn’t because she stopped counting. It was because my eardrums had been burned away.

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My company worshiped “wolf culture.” If you wanted your year-end bonus, you had to put on a dog mask, get on a leash, and bark three times on stage. For my son’s life-saving surgery, I swallowed my pride and did it. But the very next day, a video of me barking went viral across TikTok, and I became the laughingstock of the internet—the “Ultimate Simp.” Looking at my boss’s fake, smiling face, I walked out and took a job at our biggest rival. I really want to see how this company survives without me, their top closer. Braden Cole held the microphone, his beer belly stretching his designer suit to its absolute limits. “This year’s top closer—Liam!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the hall. “A hundred-thousand-dollar bonus, paid in cash right here, right now!” The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. My fingers were trembling. My son, Leo, was scheduled for heart surgery next month. I needed exactly one hundred thousand dollars to cover our insurance deductible and out-of-pocket maximum. Just yesterday, Chloe told me that if I couldn’t get the money, she was taking Leo and leaving me. “But—” Braden dragged out the word. The room went dead silent. He waved his hand, and a hostess stepped up to the stage carrying a silver tray. On it lay a cheap plastic dog mask and a heavy iron chain collar. The metal links clanked together loudly. “Our corporate culture is all about hunger! Wolf mentality!” Braden grinned, his gold tooth catching the stage lights. “Liam, put this mask on. Let us clip the leash. Get up here on stage and give us three good barks. Do that, and the cash is yours.” “Mr. Cole, please…” My throat felt like sandpaper. “What? Is a hundred grand not enough for you?” Braden patted the thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills. “If you don’t want it, that’s fine. I’ll just donate it to some charity.” Whispers broke out in the crowd. “Just do it, Liam! It’s a hundred grand!” someone yelled from the back. “Yeah, man! It’s just three barks!” “Liam, think of your kid’s surgery,” Marcus whispered next to me. He was the only colleague who knew about my situation. I stared at the black dog mask. “Hurry up!” Braden tapped his knuckles on the table. “Everyone’s time is valuable here.” Taking a deep breath, I stood up. Walking down the aisle, I could hear my own heart hammering in my chest. People were wolf-whistling. Some were already holding up their phones. I kept my eyes locked on the pile of cash on the stage. My son was only five. He had a congenital heart defect, and the doctor said this month was our last window for the surgery. I reached the stage. Braden personally picked up the dog mask and shoved it over my head. My vision was cut in half. Then, he clipped the cold iron chain around my neck. “Hold the leash!” He shoved the other end of the chain into the hostess’s hand. The young girl’s face flushed bright red. She didn’t dare look at me as she gave the chain a light tug. The crowd burst into roaring laughter. “Take a walk! Do a trick!” Chad was screaming from the front row. The hostess pulled the chain gently, and I stumbled forward. Standing in the center of the stage, the hot spotlights burned my face. “Bark!” Braden shoved the mic right in front of my mouth. “Woof.” The first sound barely slipped out. It was barely a whisper. “We can’t hear you!” the crowd chanted in unison. “Woof!” I roared it out. “Not realistic enough!” Braden tapped the back of my leg with his shoe. “How does a loyal dog bark? Show some enthusiasm!” For the third bark, I closed my eyes and screamed with every ounce of air in my lungs. “WOOF!!!” The sound echoed through the entire venue, followed instantly by wild laughter, clapping, and mocking whistles. Braden patted my shoulder and turned to the crowd. “You see this? This is loyalty! For this company, we do whatever it takes!” He grabbed the stacks of cash and slammed them into my chest. “Take it! You earned it!” I held the money tight. Ten heavy stacks. Inside the plastic mask, sweat was pouring down my face. When I walked off the stage, the chain was still hanging from my neck. Braden had forgotten to take it off. I ripped it off myself and tore the mask from my face. My hair was soaking wet. I ran straight into the restroom. I slammed the door and locked it. Leaning against the sink, I stared at myself in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes bloodshot. Footsteps echoed outside, and I heard voices. “Did you see that? The golden boy actually barked.” “For a hundred grand? I’d bark like a whole pack of dogs.” “Please, with your sales numbers? Mr. Cole wouldn’t even waste a dog collar on you.” Then came Chad’s voice. “Honestly, Liam really is a king now—the King of Simps!” They all burst into loud laughter. I turned on the faucet. I splashed cold water on my face, letting it mix with the tears spilling over my eyelids. The hundred thousand dollars pressed against my chest felt like a block of concrete, heavy and agonizing. I dried my face, packed the cash into my backpack, and zipped it shut. It’s fine, I told myself. I got the money. My son is going to be saved.

At six in the morning, my Snapchat was buzzing nonstop. I opened my eyes to see 99+ unread messages. The first one was from a college classmate. It was a link to a TikTok video. The caption read: Top closer at a tech firm barks like a dog on stage for his year-end bonus. Where is the dignity? The video was only thirty seconds long. It showed me putting on the dog mask, being led on a chain, and barking. Braden’s face had been carefully cropped out of the frame. The comment section was a absolute dumpster fire. “No dignity left for money.” “This company is sick.” “Top closer? More like Top Simp!” “@everyone, come look at this literal corporate dog!” I closed the app, my hands shaking uncontrollably. Then my phone rang. It was Chloe. The moment I picked up, she was screaming. “Liam! What the hell did you do?! My coworkers just sent me the video! My mom and my friends have all seen it!” “Chloe, let me explain—” “Explain what?! The video is crystal clear! You played dog for a hundred thousand dollars! How am I supposed to show my face in public? How is our son supposed to go to school?!” “Leo needed the money for his surgery—” “So you become a literal dog for money? Liam, you make me sick!” The call clicked off. I tried calling back, but she had already blocked my number. Suddenly, a new notification popped up on Snapchat. It was from Leo’s preschool teacher. I tapped the voice note, and the sound of my son sobbing filled the room. “Daddy… the kids said you’re a puppy… They won’t play with me… they keep barking at me… sob…” My fingers were stiff as I typed. “Ms. Davis, I am so sorry, please—” Before I could finish, she replied. “Mr. Miller, this video is causing a massive distraction. We suggest you handle your family matters at home. Don’t let this affect your child.” I stared at the screen, my eyes burning. The phone vibrated again. It was my dad. “Liam!” His voice was trembling with rage. “You… you put your mother in the hospital!” “Dad, please—” “All our neighbors saw it! Your uncle just called to ask if we were so desperate for money that we let our son beg like a dog on the street!” “I did it for Leo’s surgery—” “I don’t care!” my dad roared. “We didn’t raise a son with no backbone! Your mother said if you don’t make a public apology and get that video taken down immediately, don’t bother calling us family anymore!” Beep—beep— The line went dead. I sat on the edge of the bed. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, and the room was swallowed in darkness. Then, my phone screen lit up again with an unknown number. “Hello?” “Liam, buddy! It’s Braden.” Braden’s laugh boomed through the speaker. “Have you seen the news? Our company is absolutely viral!” I gripped the phone tightly. “Mr. Cole, that video was edited. That’s not how it happened—” “Who cares?” he interrupted. “Bad press is still press! Our phones have been ringing off the hook this morning with new leads! It’s free advertising!” “But my family—” “Your family will get over it!” he said dismissively. “Tell you what, at Monday’s morning meeting, I want you to do it again. We’ll record the full version this time, high quality. We’ll post it to clarify things for you!” “Mr. Cole—” “Alright, I’ve got a meeting. See you Monday, don’t be late!” He hung up. I opened Instagram. Chad had posted a photo dump three minutes ago. It was a slide of photos from the annual party. Right in the middle was a high-def, close-up shot of me wearing the dog mask. The caption read: Corporate culture! Wolf mentality! Shoutout to our most “loyal” colleague! Below it, the entire company had lined up to leave likes and thumbs-up emojis. I scrolled down. I saw that Chloe had liked the post too. My phone buzzed again. A new text message. It was from Chloe. Liam, I can’t live like this for another second. I want a divorce. I’m taking Leo. If you try to fight me for custody, I’ll make sure this video is sent to every single person in this city. I stared at those words for a very long time. Then, I stood up and walked to the window. The sun was up now. Down on the street, people were rushing to work. A little kid tripped and fell. His mother rushed over, scooped him up, dusted him off, and kissed his cheek. I turned around, slid my back down against the wall, and sat on the cold floor.

At the Monday morning meeting, Braden made me the opening act. “Let’s welcome Liam to share his secrets of success!” He led the applause. Hardly anyone clapped. Most people just stared at me. Some looked amused, some looked sympathetic, but most were just numb. “I…” My throat was completely dry. “Louder!” Braden banged on the table. “Did you lose your voice?” A few people snickered. “Last week… for the company… I put on a performance…” Every word felt like hot coal in my mouth. “Performance?” Braden cut in. “That’s called demonstrating loyalty! Come on, let’s give Liam some encouragement!” He pulled out his phone and started recording. “Give us a couple of barks to start the week off right!” I looked at his camera lens. I thought of the remaining balance for Leo’s post-surgery care. I couldn’t lose this job. “Woof.” “Can’t hear you!” Chad shouted from the back. “Woof!” “No energy!” Braden frowned. “Where’s that passion from the party? You get lazy once you get the cash?” I closed my eyes and screamed. “WOOF!!!” The room fell silent for a second, then erupted into hysterical laughter. Braden stopped recording, looking highly satisfied. “Great! That’s what I like to see! From now on, Liam will start every Monday morning meeting by pumping us up!” When I walked off the stage, my knees were shaking. At noon, I had a lunch meeting to sign a contract with Mr. Miller. I had been nurturing this client for six months. Once this deal went through, the commission would easily cover Leo’s rehabilitation costs. As I reached the lobby, I saw Chad walking out, his arm draped over Mr. Miller’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mr. Miller! I’ll personally handle your account from now on!” Chad was shouting boisterously. Mr. Miller saw me and looked slightly embarrassed. “Liam… your boss just told me… you’ve been reassigned?” I froze. Chad grinned. “My uncle said big accounts need to stay within the family. You should focus on internal training from now on, Liam.” He leaned in close to my ear. “Specifically, training people how to bark.” I stormed straight into Braden’s office. “Mr. Cole! Mr. Miller’s account was mine! I’ve been working on it for—” “Oh, that?” Braden leaned back in his leather chair, propping his feet on the desk. “I gave it to Chad. His aunt is married to Mr. Miller’s cousin. They have a family connection, it’s easier to talk business.” “But I worked on this for six months…” “And what did that get us?” He threw a stack of papers at me. “Look at this! Chad signed the contract over one dinner last night. Six months of your work can’t beat one night of drinking with my nephew.” I picked up the contract. The signature line bore Chad’s name. “A dog is a dog,” Braden sneered, lighting a cigar. “You’re good for guarding the house, but don’t think you get to eat the steak.” When I got home, the house was dark. Chloe had texted saying she was staying at her mother’s with Leo for a few days. The fridge was empty. While searching for instant ramen, I noticed a box of expensive cigars in the trash can. Cohibas. I didn’t smoke. My heart dropped. I went into the bedroom. The nightstand drawer wasn’t fully closed. Inside was an old iPhone that Chloe had stopped using a while ago. Driven by a dark instinct, I picked it up. It was charged. I tried our wedding anniversary as the passcode. Incorrect. I tried Leo’s birthday. It unlocked. The photo gallery was filled with screenshots of Snapchat chats. Between Chloe and Braden. “Babe, when are you going to leave that loser and marry me?” “Once the heat from Liam’s viral video dies down. I can’t ruin the company’s image right now.” “He actually thinks Leo is his son. It’s hilarious.” “Of course he does. I got you pregnant while he was passed out drunk. He never even touched you that night.” The latest screenshot was a bank transfer from yesterday. Two hundred thousand dollars. The memo read: For my baby’s new car. I sank onto the floor. The hardwood felt ice-cold against my skin. My phone rang. “Mr. Miller, when will you be paying the remaining balance for Leo’s surgery? Tomorrow is the absolute deadline.” I stared at the screen. Braden’s smiling face was saved as my phone wallpaper. Outside, the sky had turned pitch black. I opened my laptop and clicked on an encrypted folder. Inside were all the records of financial fraud, tax evasion, and corporate bribery that Braden had forced me to assist with over the years. I backed everything up, encrypted the files, and sent them to a secure, anonymous email address. Then, I dialed a number. “Mr. Vance? This is Liam. Let’s meet tomorrow.” I looked around the empty apartment. In our wedding photo on the wall, Chloe was still smiling beautifully. I started to laugh. I laughed louder and louder, until my ribs ached, and I couldn’t stop.

On Monday, Braden threw a massive celebration party. The company had just passed its pre-IPO audit. The banquet hall was packed, and Braden sat at the head table. Sitting right next to him was Chloe, dripping in designer jewelry. Chad started shouting, “Hey Uncle Braden! Aren’t you going to introduce your new assistant?” Braden wrapped his arm tightly around Chloe. “This is Chloe, my new executive assistant. She’s highly capable and knows exactly how to… ‘take care’ of me.” The table erupted into laughter. Chloe smiled, keeping her eyes glued to her plate, avoiding my gaze. Braden pointed a finger at me. “Liam, you owe Chloe a thank you. If she hadn’t begged me to keep you, a loser who ruined our company’s reputation would have been fired a long time ago!” Chloe quickly said, “Braden, let’s not talk about the past.” Braden slammed the table. “Why shouldn’t we? Liam, say it yourself. Do you even deserve a woman like Chloe? Huh? Barking like a dog for a little cash, you’re a disgrace!” I set my fork down slowly. Braden got even louder. “Look at you! Then look at me! The clients you couldn’t keep, the woman you couldn’t hold—to me, they’re just easy pickings!” He whipped out a black credit card and threw it on the table. “Go buy yourself a new bag, Chloe! Don’t be like some people who have to bark on stage for a measly hundred grand!” Chloe grabbed the card, her face lighting up with joy. I stood up. Braden sneered. “What? You got a problem with that?” I walked up to the small stage at the front of the banquet room, where the microphone and the projector screen were set up. Chad yelled, “Get down from there! That’s not a place for a dog!” I plugged my flash drive into the laptop connected to the projector. The video started playing. It was the unedited, full version of the annual party. Braden’s loud voice filled the room: “…Put the dog mask on… clip the chain… bark three times… If you don’t want it, I’ll donate it to charity…” The room went dead silent. In the video, right before I walked onto the stage, I had looked at my phone. The camera zoomed in on my screen. It showed my text messages with the hospital doctor. “The surgery cost is $100,000. It must be paid by next week.” As I barked on stage, the high-definition camera clearly captured the tears streaming down my face. The silence in the hall was suffocating. Chloe bolted upright. “Liam, what is the meaning of this?!” Braden’s face turned purple. He kicked his chair over with a loud crash. “You motherf—er, you set me up!” He waved his hand at his bodyguards. “Beat him! Beat him to a pulp!” Two burly guards rushed the stage. Fists and boots rained down on me as I curled up to protect my head. Braden screamed, “Break his legs! Let him crawl out of here!” One of the guards picked up a heavy metal folding chair and slammed it down hard onto my leg. I heard the bone snap before the blinding pain hit me. Braden walked over, stomping his heavy boot directly onto my hand. “You think you can play games with me? You’re nothing!” He spat directly onto my face. Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the banquet hall were kicked open. Several federal agents in windbreakers walked in. The man at the front held up a badge. “Braden Cole?” Braden froze. “Who the hell are you?” The agent flashed his ID. “IRS Criminal Investigation. We received a detailed whistleblower report. Your company is under investigation for massive tax evasion and securities fraud. You’re coming with us.”

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The day my brother, Ethan, got together with Chloe—the girl who bullied me in high school—my depression relapsed. He shielded Chloe behind his back, terrified I’d lose control and hurt her. But all I could think of was my freshman year, when Ethan sent me away to that boarding school. I remembered when Chloe was ripping my hair out, and I managed to call Ethan’s number. His annoyed voice echoed through the speaker. “What are you throwing a tantrum for now? Can’t you just grow up?” He hung up. Chloe laughed, stubbing her glowing cigarette right into the back of my hand. The pain was so agonizing I blacked out. When I woke up, Ethan was kneeling by my bedside. He was sobbing, begging for my forgiveness. I was diagnosed with severe depression. He dropped out of college and worked day and night to pay for my therapy. During my worst episodes, I’d hold a kitchen knife, my hands shaking violently. He would hug me, tears streaming down his face, choking out apologies. But now. Ethan stood in front of Chloe, looking at me with pure exhaustion. “It’s been two years, Maya. We’re all exhausted. How much longer are you going to torture me?” I hid my trembling hands behind my back. In my grip was an acceptance letter to a prestigious art exhibition in Paris. I had come here to share this incredible news with him. But now, there was no need.

Depression episode. I practically fled back to my art studio. This tiny studio was something Ethan had saved up for a whole year to rent for me. During my two years of recovery, this was the only place where I felt safe. I reached out to touch the dried watercolor on the canvas. The scar on the back of my hand caught my eye. Over the last two years, I had almost forgotten how badly it used to hurt. Ethan and I only had each other growing up. He raised me. During my freshman year of high school, he sent me to a boarding school. I was quiet, introverted, and hated socializing. Naturally, I became the perfect target for bullies. They poured water all over my bed. Since I couldn’t sleep there, I curled up in the corner, only to be dragged into the restrooms. I told the counselor. He just gave me a dismissive smile. “We don’t have students like that at our school. If you’re being picked on, maybe you should think about what you did to cause it.” Terrified, I called Ethan again and again. But Ethan was working multiple jobs to pay for his classes and support me. The third time I begged him to take me home, he snapped. “Maya, I told you! I have to work! I don’t have time to babysit you!” I swallowed my tears and endured it. But they only got worse. They threw bugs into my lunch. They dragged me to the rooftop, laughing hysterically at my pale, terrified face as they took turns slapping me. With their cruel laughter ringing in my ears, I dialed Ethan’s number with shaking fingers. “Ethan, please… please come take me home.” Ethan’s furious voice came through. “What are you throwing a tantrum for now? Can’t you just grow up?” The line went dead. Chloe caught up to me. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling back hard. The stinging pain in my scalp was nothing compared to the sheer terror in my heart. I cried, begging her to stop. But she just laughed and slapped me across the face. They pinned me to the floor. Chloe held a lit cigarette, pressing the burning cherry directly into the back of my hand. “Still waiting for someone to save you?” I don’t know how long they kicked and beat me. I just curled into a ball, losing consciousness in the pouring rain. When I opened my eyes, Ethan was kneeling in front of me. He was crying so hard his entire body shook. “Maya, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” “I’m taking you home. Don’t be scared…” He cried desperately that day. I had never seen him cry like that before. He held my hand and swore he’d never let anyone hurt me again. But only two years later… He became the one hurting me. By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, the studio was pitch black. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there. My phone lit up with a call from Ethan. I answered. “Maya, where are you? Stop acting out. Chloe made your favorite dinner. Come home and eat.” If I wasn’t at home, I was always at the studio. But he couldn’t even bother to walk over and look for me. Hearing him say Chloe’s name made my stomach turn. A wave of nausea hit me. I dry-heaved for a long time, but nothing came up.

The security guard, Marcus, heard me during his night patrol. Seeing my state, he panicked and reached for his phone to call Ethan. “Oh my god, Maya, is it happening again? Are you okay? I’ll call Ethan right now. Hang in there!” My fingers shook violently as I grabbed Marcus’s arm. “Don’t tell him.” A text from Ethan popped up on my screen. [Maya, I’m giving you ten minutes.] This was Ethan’s warning sign before he lost his temper. My mind drifted, suddenly remembering two years ago, during my first major depressive episode. Back then, I couldn’t eat anything. The moment I saw a stranger, I would reflexively start gagging. In just a month, I became skin and bones. Ethan would push my wheelchair out so I could get some sun, while I stared blankly at the birds in the distance. One night, Ethan came home from work to find me holding a kitchen knife. Paling with fright, he rushed forward to stop me. Triggered and terrified, I screamed and shrank back. “Stay away from me! Let me go, please let me go!” With bloodshot eyes, Ethan lunged forward and locked me in a hug. The knife left a long, deep gash on his arm. But he didn’t seem to feel the pain. He just held me, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry, Maya, I’m so sorry!” “It’s my fault. I didn’t take care of you…” With Ethan holding me, I slowly calmed down. That incident left a prominent scar on his arm. To keep me from feeling guilty, he always wore long sleeves, even in the dead of summer, to hide it. But today, when I went home, he was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt. I stayed out all night. Ethan didn’t call me again. The next morning, he came to the studio. I had sat in front of the canvas all night. Black paint had completely bled through the entire fabric. Ethan looked at the painting, fell silent for a moment, then reached out to gently stroke my hair. “I’m sorry, Maya. I lost my temper yesterday. Can you forgive me?” My eyes stung with tears. But the next second. He knelt on one knee in front of me, looking into my eyes, practically begging. “Chloe has an art exhibition coming up soon. I want to let her use this studio for a while. You can paint at home during this time, okay?” I stared at his face. My mind went completely blank for several long seconds. I realized I couldn’t comprehend what Ethan was saying. This studio. It was the key to my recovery. I had painted so many of my breakthrough moments on these canvases. This place was my entire world. But now, Ethan wanted to hand this sanctuary over to the very person who had broken me. Ethan held my hands. “Chloe knows she was wrong. She’s been apologizing to me for the past two years.” I stared at him, numb. “She went abroad to study art for two years just to clear her head, and she came back specifically to apologize to you. It’s been two years, Maya. It’s time to let it go.” I didn’t understand. Does two years of time automatically erase someone else’s trauma? I stared blankly at Ethan’s lips moving. He was spitting out words that made absolutely no sense to me. In the end, a harsh truth dawned on me. Right. Out of the three of us. I was the only one who had actually been hurt. That was why Ethan could choose forgiveness so easily.

That night, my depression flared up again. With trembling hands, I choked down my pills. Tears streamed down my face, but my chest felt completely hollow and numb. I forgot that Ethan had already packed up all my things from the studio. When I walked in. Seeing Chloe sitting in my chair, holding my favorite paintbrush. My body suddenly stopped obeying me. My knees buckled. I slammed against the doorframe, a loud ringing filling my ears. Soft, upbeat music was playing in the studio. Chloe sat bathed in the warm sunlight, while Ethan stood beside her, watching her with a relaxed, tender smile. I hadn’t seen Ethan look like that in a very long time. Ever since I got sick, his youthful spark had been completely ground down by life. Whenever he looked at me, his eyes held nothing but worry and exhaustion. I went back to our apartment and sat before a blank canvas. I held a pencil so tightly the sharp edge sliced into my finger, but I felt absolutely nothing. From that day on, I stopped trying to see Ethan. But I could tell. Ethan’s mood was getting better by the day. Finally, one day, he looked at me hesitantly. “Maya, there’s an art exhibition nearby that you’d love. Want to go?” A tiny spark of light flickered in my long-dead eyes. I followed Ethan to the gallery, only to see Chloe there with her own featured pieces. Ethan closely watched my reaction. “Chloe has some art on display here. If you don’t want to see her, you can just look at the other artists.” As soon as he finished speaking, he hurried off to help Chloe set up. I stood there alone, quietly admiring the paintings I loved. During those countless suffocating nights, staring at these kinds of paintings was the only thing that gave me the will to live. The gallery curator recognized me. He walked over and struck up a conversation. Then, he asked out of curiosity. “We invited you to participate in this exhibition last month, but your representative said you didn’t have time. I didn’t think we’d see you here today.” I froze. “What?” The curator smiled and glanced over at Ethan. “Since you declined, we ended up choosing that artist over there.” “Though her work lacks a bit of soul, Ethan highly recommended her to us.” It felt like a bomb went off in my head. Last month, I had submitted an application for this exhibition. The coordinator told me I’d get a response in three days, but I waited a week and heard nothing. But now, the curator was telling me that *I* had declined the invitation. My laptop was in the studio. The only person besides me who had access to it was Ethan. My gaze drifted across the crowded gallery, finally landing on Ethan, who was standing right next to Chloe. While I was drowning in despair over not getting a reply… Ethan had declined the invitation on my behalf. And he had recommended Chloe instead. Clearly, Chloe had already become far more important to him than I was. My phone buzzed with an email notification. It was an official acceptance letter from an art agency in Paris. I looked up again, watching Ethan’s gentle smile in the distance. Then, I booked the earliest flight out of the country.

I slipped away from the exhibition without a sound. I walked back to my studio, which was now completely contaminated with Chloe’s presence. I stood there in silence for a few minutes. Then, grabbing a thick black marker. I drew a massive, aggressive ‘X’ right across her centerpiece painting. That night, Ethan stormed into the apartment, screaming at me in a fury. “Maya! When did you become so malicious? That was Chloe’s main exhibition piece! You ruined her painting! What is she supposed to do at the gallery tomorrow?!” I watched his outrage with dead eyes. “She got into that exhibition by stealing my spot, didn’t she?” Exposed, Ethan’s face flashed with panic. “Your mental state was unstable back then! That’s why I declined it for you. Chloe’s style is very similar to yours anyway. I only recommended her; she earned the spot herself!” Because of my ongoing treatment, Ethan had always managed my submissions. As my point of contact, all the gallery directors knew him well. If he recommended someone, they wouldn’t think twice. My hands shook. I grabbed everything within arm’s reach and hurled it at him in a frenzy. Ethan didn’t try to comfort me like he used to. Instead, he slammed the door and left. I sat in front of my canvas all night again. The next day, Ethan came back with my favorite pastries to apologize. He knelt before me, crying and begging for forgiveness, just like he did two years ago. A sharp ache pierced my chest, and my tears fell alongside his. It was true that Ethan had sacrificed so much for me over the years. He pulled me into his arms. Gently patting my back. I remembered when we were kids, having no parents, being bullied by other kids. I would hide in his arms and cry, and he would always comfort me like this. I finally sobbed out loud. But Ethan remained on his knees. His hands clenched into fists. After a long, tense silence, he looked up at me with red, pleading eyes. “Maya… can you do me a favor? Please.” By the time Ethan dragged me to the exhibition venue, I could barely feel my own body. I followed him inside like a mindless zombie. The moment we stepped through the doors, dozens of camera flashes blinded me. “Miss Maya, is it true that Miss Chloe bullied you two years ago?” “Your brother, Ethan, claims that your depression is cured and that you’ve forgiven Miss Chloe. Is that true?” Chloe’s art had gone viral online. But someone she had bullied in the past had exposed her on social media. The media dug deeper and eventually found me—her most traumatized victim. Ethan carefully guided me onto the stage. Facing the sea of flashing lights and probing eyes. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Ethan had begged me. He begged me to tell everyone that I had forgiven Chloe. He had tears streaming down his face, claiming that if I didn’t help, Chloe’s life would be ruined. My limbs went entirely numb. I could hear Ethan whispering frantically from the side, urging me to speak. Suddenly, the giant screen behind the stage flashed with my medical records from two years ago. Photos of my bruised, scarred body were displayed for everyone to see. Finally, the screen showed my official diagnosis of severe, clinical depression. I stared at the medical report. My vision began to blur. The weight of all those staring eyes was suffocating. Below the stage, Ethan was looking at me with desperation, pleading with his eyes for me to say the words—to tell everyone I forgave the person who had shattered my life. My vision went completely black, and I collapsed off the stage. When I woke up, the hospital room was empty. Ethan had left a note on the bedside table. [Chloe is in a really bad place right now. I have to go be with her.] I threw the note into the trash. With weak, trembling steps, I walked out of the hospital. Without packing any bags, I went straight to the airport. My body was physically exhausted, but my mind had never been clearer. Only one thought consumed me. I had to get out. Before powering off my phone. A call from Ethan flashed on the screen. He asked frantically, “Maya, where are you? The doctor said you aren’t cleared to leave the hospital yet—” I didn’t say a word. I just shut down the phone.

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The Alpha heir of the Moonclaw Pack, Lucian Blackwood, made a bet with his friends. He bet he could make me fall for him within a month. He was gentle, attentive, and incredibly generous. He acted like every girl’s dream boyfriend. Everyone in the academy envied me. They said I scored an Alpha heir and wouldn’t have to struggle for the rest of my life. After all, on the surface, I was just a weak werewolf who couldn’t even summon her own wolf. Everyone thought I only got into this elite academy because my father happened to be a minor Alpha. Behind my back, they were placing bets. They wanted to see how hard I would cry on the last day of the one-month deadline. But none of them knew the truth. I was actually the only daughter of the Alpha King. And my wolf was watching every single one of them from the shadows, picking out my future mate. My name is Elena Silverwood. According to my files at the Royal Wolf Academy, I came from a small, insignificant pack. To make things worse, my scent was so faint that I smelled like a weak, wolf-less human. On my very first day, my roommate, Nora Hart, dragged me into our dorm and locked the door. She looked terrified as she tried to teach me the survival rules of the academy. “Elena, you need to listen to me. There are two types of people here.” She lowered her voice, pointing out the window at a neon pink Porsche speeding away. “First, there are regular wolves like us, with no inheritance rights.” “Second, there are the pack heirs who drive luxury sports cars to class.” “Especially the circle led by Lucian Blackwood, the Alpha heir of the Moonclaw Pack. You must stay away from them at all costs!” Nora’s expression was dead serious. “They are literal demons!” “Lucian Blackwood is a notorious player. He changes girlfriends faster than he changes his shirts!” I paused, holding my mug halfway to my mouth, and looked at her. “What do you mean?” Seeing how calm I was, Nora got so anxious her voice started to shake. “I overheard him talking to his friends. He bet them he could make you his girlfriend within a month.” “And once he gets you, he’s going to Mark you and then Reject you. This isn’t the first time he’s done this!” Disgust and fear washed over Nora’s face. “He plays the devoted boyfriend until he Marks the girl. Then, he publicly Rejects her. He loves the power trip of destroying people!” We all knew that if a werewolf was Rejected, the emotional and spiritual damage was devastating. For weaker wolves, a Rejection could literally kill their inner wolf. Nora grabbed my arm tightly. “Last semester, a girl from the herbology department was Targeted by him. After he Rejected her, she lost her wolf and ended up in a mental asylum.” “So, Elena, you are beautiful. Too beautiful. Please, don’t let him catch your eye!” I patted Nora’s tense shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’m just here to study.” But as Nora looked into my eyes, she shivered for some reason she couldn’t explain. That same night, in an exclusive VIP lounge. Brittany Frost leaned in close to Lucian with a smirk. “Lucian, remember our bet? Elena Silverwood. One month. Do you dare?” Lucian Blackwood swirled his red wine, looking lazy and arrogant on the velvet sofa. He raised an eyebrow, staying silent. Brittany kept pushing. “What, are you scared? I heard she’s a hard nut to crack. If you can make her yours, Mark her, and Reject her in thirty days—now that would be a real show.” Hearing this, Lucian set his glass down and smirked. “Are you playing reverse psychology on me? Fine. I’m in.” “I’ll play with her for a month.”

From that day on, my school life became very… entertaining. Everywhere I went, I “accidentally” ran into Lucian. In the cafeteria line, he would slide in behind me and swipe his black card. “Hey, classmate. It’s fate. Lunch is on me.” On the training field, he insisted on partnering with me. He would purposely lose to me and flash what he thought was a panty-dropping smile. I decided to visit the local coffee shop—the one my father secretly bought for me—to learn how to brew coffee just for fun. Thinking I was a poor student working a grueling part-time job, Lucian bought out the entire shop’s inventory for the day and distributed it to random students on the street, just so I could get off work early. “Don’t work so hard, Elena. Let me take care of you.” I had to use every ounce of my willpower not to roll my eyes. Within a single week, rumors spread like wildfire across the academy. Lucian Blackwood was madly pursuing a nobody. I became the target of envy for every girl on campus. Every time I returned to the dorm, Nora looked at me like I was walking straight into a trap. “Elena! I told you to stay away from him!” I held up my hands innocently. “I try, but he just keeps showing up.” “Do not fall for him!” Nora practically begged. “He’s just playing with you!” I nodded. “I know what I’m doing, Nora. Don’t worry.” Of course I knew. Every time Lucian put on his sweet, devoted boyfriend act, I could see Brittany and her friends hiding nearby, recording everything on their phones. Well, let them record. My face looks perfect from every angle anyway. A few days later, Brittany threw her birthday party at the Golden Age, an ultra-exclusive private club. Lucian texted me on Snapchat, asking me to be his date. I purposely replied: *That place is too expensive. I don’t have a dress.* Ten minutes later, he showed up at my dorm lobby holding a designer garment bag. Inside was a custom midnight-blue gown. It was worth six figures. “Wear this. Tonight, you are my princess.” The girls in the lobby gasped. “Oh my god, is that a custom gown? That dress costs more than our annual tuition!” “Elena Silverwood is so lucky!” I looked at the dress, pretending to be so moved that I was on the verge of tears. Honestly? The price of this dress was barely enough to buy a pair of my designer socks. I put on the dress and arrived at the club with Lucian. The Golden Age was actually my eighteenth birthday present from my father. It was one of the least expensive properties under my name. The moment we walked in, the club manager’s eyes lit up. He rushed toward us, preparing to bow. I shot him a cold glare. The sharp manager immediately understood, spun on his heel smoothly, and went to greet other guests as if nothing had happened. When the birthday girl, Brittany, saw me, she couldn’t hide the jealousy in her eyes. “Elena, you look so pretty tonight. Lucian sure has expensive taste.” She leaned in, whispering in my ear. “But be careful with that rental dress. If you ruin it, you won’t be able to pay for it even if you sell your kidney.” I just smiled and said nothing. During the party, Lucian was the perfect gentleman. He cut my steak, blocked people from offering me drinks, and gently adjusted my necklace. Every detail was straight out of a romance movie. He pulled me in front of his elite circle, announcing proudly, “Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Elena.” His friends cheered and congratulated us, but their eyes were filled with mockery and amusement. I played my part perfectly, acting like a shy, starstruck girl. Halfway through the party, I went to the restroom and overheard Brittany mind-linking her friends. Because of my bloodline, I could easily intercept their private mind links. *“Britt, did Lucian go too far this time? He bought her a custom gown. He isn’t actually falling for that charity case, is he?”* Brittany laughed coldly in the link. *“Are you kidding? I lent him that dress. It’s just a bet. If we don’t set the bait, how will the fish bite?”* Another girl chimed in with a giggle. *“You’re brilliant, Britt! Letting that poor girl think she’s made it to the top. When he Marks and Rejects her, the fall is going to destroy her!”* Brittany’s voice turned vicious. *“Just wait. The one-month mark is in a few days. I can’t wait to see her beg on her knees, crying with a broken bond in front of the whole school!”* They thought their mind link was perfectly secure. They had no idea I heard every single word.

After Brittany’s party, Lucian’s pursuit became even more intense. Every morning, he would wait outside my dorm with a gourmet breakfast. He even skipped his Alpha heir training just to sit with me in my boring combat theory classes. When other students mocked me for my weak physical strength, he immediately stood up and shielded me. On my “birthday”—a fake date I made up—he delivered a limited-edition designer watch to my dorm in front of Nora. Nora’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She dragged me to the balcony, her face pale with worry. “Elena, tell me the truth. Have you really fallen for him?” I ran my finger over the luxury watch and smiled gently. “Of course not.” “Then why are you accepting these insanely expensive gifts?!” Nora’s voice cracked. “A guy like him doesn’t give things away for free. You’ll have to pay it back with interest. How are you going to do that?” I patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry.” “He’s the one who’s going to pay.” The next day, Nora and I were eating in the cafeteria. Brittany and her squad walked past our table. As she passed me, she tilted her tray, spilling a bowl of boiling hot, spicy ramen straight toward me. Even though I dodged quickly, the hot broth splashed all over my arm. “Oh my god!” Nora screamed, grabbing napkins to wipe me down. Brittany looked down at me, a fake gasp escaping her lips. “Oops! My hand slipped.” She sneered at my T-shirt. “Well, that shirt looks like a $15 thrift store piece anyway. Here’s three hundred-dollar bills. Go buy yourself ten more.” My eye twitched. This blind bitch. The T-shirt I was wearing was a custom-made silk blend. It cost more than her entire outfit. I had spent twenty minutes searching my walk-in closet just to find the most “ordinary-looking” shirt, and she ruined it. She tossed three bills onto the table like she was throwing bones at a dog. My inner wolf bared her fangs. *Let me rip her throat out!* she snarled in my mind. I calmed my wolf down. *Not yet, girl. The test isn’t over.* Suddenly, a figure rushed over. Lucian shoved Brittany aside so hard she stumbled back several steps. He grabbed my arm, checking me with panic in his eyes. “Are you okay? Did you get burned? Is it bad?” He spun around and glared at Brittany. “Are you crazy, Brittany? Apologize to Elena right now!” Brittany’s eyes welled with tears. “Lucian, it was an accident!” “I said, apologize!” Frightened by his rage, Brittany mumbled a quick, “I’m sorry.” Before she could finish, Lucian swept me up in his arms and carried me toward the clinic under the gaze of the entire cafeteria. “I’m so sorry, Elena,” he whispered, his voice cracking with guilt. “I failed to protect you.” I buried my face in his chest, my shoulders shaking as if I were crying. “It’s not your fault… I’m just too weak. If only I had my wolf…” I sobbed, while secretly rolling my eyes. Lucian squeezed me tighter. “Elena, believe me. No one will ever bully you again.” Leaning against him, the mixture of his heavy cologne and the smell of spicy ramen on my arm was making me nauseous. If my dad found out I let myself get splashed for this drama, he would lose his mind. But thankfully, the testing phase was finally over.

The one-month deadline had arrived. I received a text from Lucian. *Meet me at Lakeview Park tonight at 7 PM. I have something really important to tell you.* I replied: *Okay. I have a surprise gift for you too.* Nora saw my reply and started pacing the room frantically. “Elena, are you out of your mind?! Why are you going? What if he tries to force a Mark on you? You won’t be able to fight him off!” “I know,” I said calmly. “That’s why I prepared a very special gift for him.” A gift he would remember for the rest of his miserable life. That evening, I walked into Lakeview Park. Lucian was standing by the water. He looked like a prince from a fairytale, but beneath his charming smile, I could see the greedy excitement he was trying to hide. In the dark shadows of the woods, Brittany and the other heirs were already holding up their phones, recording. “Elena.” He stepped closer, his voice soft as if coaxing a scared puppy. “Did you enjoy this past month with me?” I nodded, giving him a shy, innocent smile. “Good.” He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from my shoulder. “Actually, the reason I called you out here today is…” He paused, his eyes locked onto my neck. A flicker of raw hunger flashed in his eyes. “I want to Mark you.” He said it so smoothly, as if it were the most romantic proposal in the world. I froze for a second, then lowered my head, keeping my voice hesitant. “Are you… serious?” “Of course,” he murmured, taking another step forward and grabbing my wrists. “You know how much I care about you. Elena, I love you. Let me Mark you, okay?” He leaned down, his fangs extending, heading straight for my scent gland. But before his teeth could touch my skin, I shoved him back with sudden, brutal force. “Lucian Blackwood,” I said, my voice dropping all pretense. It was ice-cold. “Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?” “You wanted to Mark me, and then Reject me, right?” His face stiffened. “I knew about your bet with Brittany from day one. Woo me in a month, Mark me, and Reject me in public. That’s your little game, isn’t it?” Lucian stared at me for a few seconds. Then, he laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of anger, but of amusement. He didn’t even care that he was caught. “Impressive,” he said, tilting his head. “When did you find out?” “From the very beginning.” “And you still played along for a whole month?” He smirked. “You’ve got guts, Elena.” “I just wanted to see how disgusting you could truly be.” He shrugged, showing absolutely no remorse. “Well, what a waste.” He looked me up and down with a sleazy grin. “I really wanted to taste what a wolf-less human felt like. Great body, pretty face. It’s a shame I didn’t get to sleep with you.” From the shadows, Brittany and her friends couldn’t hold back anymore. They walked out of the woods, phones still recording. Since the “Marking” plan failed, they decided to jump straight to the humiliation part. I smiled, unclamping the luxury watch from my wrist. Then, right in front of them, I tossed it into the air. The watch drew a perfect arc in the sky and splashed straight into the deep lake. Brittany shrieked. “My watch! Elena, you crazy bitch!” “Lucian, you were right. A watch of this quality really doesn’t suit me,” I said smoothly. “I’ve never seen such a cheap ‘limited edition’ watch in my life.” “As for this dress…” I turned to Brittany, my eyes scanning her. “Take a closer look. Is this really the rental dress your mother lent Lucian?” One of Brittany’s friends squinted and whispered in terror, “Britt… that’s not your dress. That looks like the custom starlight gown designed exclusively for the Alpha King’s daughter!” Brittany smacked her arm. “Are you insane?! How could a wolf-less orphan like her wear something like that?” I ignored them. I turned back to Lucian, giving him one last look. “Lucian, I’m tired of playing with you guys.” “The trial period is over. As a candidate for my arranged marriage…” “You are disqualified.”

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On Valentine’s Day, I was shopping alone at the mall. Across the street, a motel was on fire. Through the rising black smoke, I saw Damon—my mate, my Alpha, the man who told me he was out patrolling our borders—running out of the building. He was shirtless, holding a strange woman tightly in his arms. The woman clung to his neck, her voice dripping with mock worry. “Aren’t you afraid your Luna will find out about us?” Damon let out a low, husky chuckle. “We’re miles away from the Packhouse. Even her wolf can’t feel a thing out here. I’m not done with you yet. Let’s find another motel.” The next second, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Damon on Snapchat: *“Sweetheart, some urgent pack business came up at the border. I’ll be home late.”* At that exact moment, the bond in my heart went completely cold. I finally let him go. The moment I stepped back into the Packhouse, my phone rang. It was Damon. “Babe, why didn’t you reply to my snap?” In the past, I would reply to his messages within seconds. Now, just a few minutes of silence made him call me directly. I remembered all the times I had called him, only for him to ignore me or decline my calls whenever he pleased. I had been too submissive, too accommodating. “I was busy,” I replied, my voice completely flat. On the other end of the line, I heard a faint, muffled whisper. *“Did your mate find out?”* Even though Damon tried to cover the microphone, I could still hear his low murmur: *“Impossible. She trusts me blindly.”* Then came the creaking of bed springs, followed by his heavy, ragged breathing. *“Slow down… I’ll feed you soon, don’t worry.”* A wave of disgust washed over me. “Do you need anything else?” Damon tried to steady his breathing, forcing his voice to sound normal. “I left some fresh steaks in the freezer for you. Grill them if you’re hungry.” “Also, don’t overwork yourself with the pack duties lately. Take a rest.” The background noises grew more intense. Damon practically trembled as he gasped out, “Clara, wait for me to come home—” before the phone apparently dropped to the floor. *“Aren’t you afraid she’ll catch us?”* the woman’s voice mocked. Damon’s voice instantly went cold. *“You and I are just having fun. If you dare let her know, we are over!”* I didn’t want to hear another word of his lies. I hung up the phone and walked into the main hall. I had been his Luna for six years. I had given him all my respect, my strength, and my unwavering support. Looking up at the giant pack portrait hanging on the wall, I felt nothing but a sharp, mocking irony. When Damon finally returned to the Packhouse, I was in the middle of taking that portrait down. The flush on his cheeks hadn’t fully faded. Seeing me holding the frame, he paused for a fraction of a second. Then, with perfect ease, he said, “Yeah, I was thinking that photo looks a bit old anyway. It’s time for a new one.” He walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist. His eyes were bright, filled with a warmth that now felt completely fake. “I know a great photographer in the city. Let’s go take a new one together.” Without giving me a chance to reject, he headed straight to the kitchen to grill the steaks for me. In the past, if he had mentioned a new name, I would have questioned him immediately. But this time, I said nothing. My silence made him uneasy. “Aren’t you going to ask me who the photographer is?” My hand paused as I sorted through some pack documents. I didn’t even look up. “It’s not surprising for an Alpha to know people. It’s just a photo anyway.” That was the exact line Damon used to use on me. Now that I was throwing it back at him, he actually looked relieved. “Right. By the way, Clara, don’t go to the training grounds today. Just take a break.” I didn’t argue. There was no point in torturing myself. Just then, his phone on the table lit up with a Snapchat notification. *“Baby, was she satisfied with the little show we put on for her?”* My heart turned to ice. So, all of Damon’s sudden care and attention today was just a calculated act to keep me unsuspecting. Before I could even move my eyes away, Damon rushed over and snatched the phone. “Clara! We agreed to trust each other. You shouldn’t be looking at my phone!” In his haste, the metal tray in his hand scraped hard against my forearm. It didn’t break the skin, but it bruised. I frowned. I took a step back, turning to walk away and tend to it. Damon, sensing the tension, quickly grabbed my shoulder. “Let’s go for a walk in the city. I know a new boutique that opened up. You’ll love it.” I stared into his eyes. He quickly averted his gaze, unable to look at me directly. I clenched my fists, suppressing the urge to tear his throat out. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Once we arrived in the city, Damon behaved like the perfect mate. He accompanied me to several stores, holding all my shopping bags. It wasn’t until we walked into a high-end jewelry store that he made an excuse about an urgent pack call and stepped outside. I told him to go ahead while I browsed. But as I walked near the glass exit, I heard his voice from the alleyway. “So, how does it feel, dating me right under her nose? You love the thrill, don’t you?” Ah. No wonder he was so eager to take me shopping today. He had planned to meet his little toy here all along. I turned to leave, but his next words froze me in my tracks. “She won’t find out, right? I don’t want any trouble.” “After all, my heart belongs to her, but my body is yours.” “Just make sure you don’t leave any marks she can see.” So, this was my mate. The man who swore to protect me. My nails dug so deep into my palms that they drew blood. I walked out of the jewelry store in a daze, sitting on a public bench for what felt like hours. When I finally looked up, I saw the woman, Iris, walking out of the jewelry store. Damon was right behind her. Damon walked by her side, looking slightly awkward when he spotted me. “Clara, this is Iris. She… happened to be in the store too.” “Is that so?” I murmured. What was I even supposed to say? I forced a cold smile, unable to utter another word. Damon stood so close to Iris that they looked like the actual couple. Iris took a step forward, pretending to trip over my feet. She let out a soft gasp and stumbled. I frowned and stepped back to avoid her, but Iris gracefully let herself fall to the ground anyway. Damon’s face immediately darkened. In front of the crowd of shoppers, he yelled, “Clara! I know you’re upset, but why would you push a human?” “You’re a Luna! Where is your grace?” Without waiting for my response, he knelt down to help Iris up. His eyes were filled with deep, genuine concern. He used to look at me that way. Now, that gaze belonged to someone else. Watching him cradle her so gently, I let out a mocking laugh. “Damon, I reject you.” He froze, finally registering the coldness in my eyes. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice,” he stammered, panic briefly flickering in his eyes. But then he hardened his posture again. “But still, you shouldn’t have pushed her.” I laughed out loud, pointing at the security camera right above us. “Damon, say that again. Did I push her, or did she put on a pathetic show for you?” Iris’s eyes welled with tears. She looked up at Damon, letting a tear fall at the perfect moment. “Damon, please don’t fight because of me. Clara didn’t push me.” “It was… I just lost my footing.” Her crying completely shattered Damon’s remaining logic. His face turned entirely cold. “Clara, enough!” “I brought you out to relax. Iris is just a weak human. Why do you have to keep tormenting her?” Seeing Damon so desperate to defend her, so eager to prove me wrong in public, I felt a strange sense of peace. It was the complete opposite of the boy who once swore to love me forever. I looked at him calmly. “Damon, do you really think I’m blind?” A cold smile touched my lips. “You keep saying she’s just a regular human, yet you have all the time in the world to buy her expensive jewelry?”

I expected him to feel ashamed, but instead, he became defensive and arrogant. “What’s wrong with buying her a gift? Why are you so desperately jealous?” “Clara, just because you see me talking to another woman doesn’t mean something is going on.” “There is nothing between us. If there were, do you really think you’d still be standing here as my Luna?” If I hadn’t seen them holding hands inside the jewelry store with my own eyes, I might have believed him. He had always been so good at acting innocent. A few members of our pack who happened to be nearby started whispering. “The Alpha was nice enough to bring her out, and she’s embarrassing him over a human?” “So jealous. How is she fit to be our Luna?” I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to fight him in the human territory. But Damon took my silence as a victory. Hearing the pack members take his side, his chest puffed up. He put on a grand show of generosity. “Fine, Clara. I know you’re only acting out because you care about me.” “How about this? Apologize to Iris, and we’ll go home. I’ll let this slide.” He spoke as if he were granting me a royal pardon. He always did this. He took my love for granted, pushing my boundaries over and over. But he forgot that even a Luna’s patience has limits. In the past, I would have let it go to keep the peace. Not today. Iris chimed in, her voice sweet and sickening. “Yes, Clara. Just a quick apology and we can all move on. I won’t hold a grudge.” She looked at me, her eyes filled with triumph. As she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, my eyes caught on something shiny around her neck. That necklace… I stared at it, my voice trembling as I looked at Damon. “Is that… my necklace?” That necklace was an heirloom left to me by my grandmother. It was blessed by the Moon Goddess, infused with silver and moonlight to protect the wearer. Years ago, when Damon was gravely injured in an ambush by a rogue pack, I used my own blood to heal him. I gave him that necklace, praying the Goddess would keep him safe. I had given him my heart, my blood, and my family’s legacy. And now, it was hanging around a human’s neck. Damon knew exactly what that necklace meant to me. He had promised me he would never take it off. And yet… Damon choked on his words, his face turning pale before he quickly recovered. “She’s just a human, Clara. She didn’t know any better. She said it looked pretty, so I let her borrow it.” “You’re a strong wolf, you don’t need protection. What’s the big deal if she wears it for a couple of days?” He avoided my eyes. “Surely you aren’t going to throw a tantrum over a piece of jewelry?” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I asked, “What did you promise me, Damon?” I watched the panic finally settle deep into his eyes. I pointed at the necklace around Iris’s neck. “We are done, Damon. I, Clara, reject you as my mate.” I turned my back on them and walked away. I went back to the Packhouse alone. That night, Damon stormed into my bedroom. “I don’t accept your rejection!” he roared, slamming the door as he left. The next morning, I woke up early and took the pack pups to the mountains to play, just like I did every week.

It didn’t take long for Damon to find me. He marched up the mountain path, standing tall and looming over me. “Have you thrown your tantrum yet? Pack your things and come back to the master bedroom.” I stood up, gesturing for the pups to keep playing a little further away. I turned to him. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I was very clear. We are over.” His eyes darkened with dangerous Alpha aura. “And I said, I don’t accept it.” I looked straight into his eyes, unfazed by his pressure. “You can keep my body here, Damon, but you will never have my heart again.” He let out a cold sneer. “I don’t need your heart. I just need you to perform your duties as Luna.” I remained silent, turning my back on him to return to the children. Damon stared at my back for a long moment before letting out an irritated growl and walking away. Not long after he left, a sharp, burning smell filled the air. I looked up. Thick black smoke was rising rapidly from the southern ridge. Wildfire. “Everyone, gather around! We need to head down the mountain right now!” I yelled, gathering the terrified pups. Meanwhile, halfway down the mountain, Damon’s phone rang. *“Alpha! The southern ridge is on fire! The pups are still up there!”* Damon’s heart stopped. He turned and sprinted back up the mountain. When he reached the tree line, he saw a figure moving through the blazing heat and thick smoke. It was me. I was carrying the last of the pups, shielding them with my own body as I brought them to safety. He immediately ordered the pack warriors to extinguish the fire while he rushed toward the flames. By the time the fire was controlled, all the pups were safe. But I was gone. Damon stood on the charred earth, staring at the empty, blackened slope. He couldn’t speak. A pack warrior approached him, bowing his head. “Alpha… after the Luna pushed the last pup to safety, she… she ran back into the smoke. We couldn’t find her.” The search lasted for three days. On the morning of the fourth day, they found footprints leading across the pack border. Damon stood before those footprints, suddenly remembering my words: *“You will accept it.”* Just then, his phone vibrated. It was a Snapchat from Iris. He didn’t want to look, but he did anyway. *“Damon, if Clara is gone forever, will you finally come back to me?”* Iris’s voice over the audio message sounded frantic, almost guilty. Damon’s mind was blank. “What do you mean?” he texted back. Iris replied instantly: *“I mean, if Clara dies, you can finally accept me, right?”* *“I started the fire on the southern ridge. I knew she would go save those pups, so…”* In the distance, a thunderous crack echoed through the forest. Damon’s hands shook violently, his knuckles turning white. He spun around, slamming his fist into a massive pine tree. The trunk cracked under his Alpha strength.

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I just got back from a business trip and went to see Vivian, our CFO, to get my travel expenses reimbursed. The moment I handed over the receipts, she didn’t even look at them. She just pushed them aside. “Leave them there. I don’t have time to review them this week.” “But Kevin submitted his yesterday and already got paid today,” I pointed out. Vivian didn’t even look up. “Kevin’s paperwork was perfect. Yours needs a thorough check. What, can’t wait? You sales people make so much money anyway. Just pay out of pocket for now.” With that, she closed her hand cream and called over the new guy, Kevin. “Come on, Kevin. A new dessert place just opened downstairs. My treat.” After Vivian left, my coworker Mike casually sent a text message. Instantly, our biggest client replied that they would delay the final payment for another six months. Lisa simply made a quick phone call. And a client we’ve partnered with for five years immediately put their contract renewal on hold. As for me? I texted my dad. “We can fire the CFO of our company now.”

To be honest, standing at the door of the finance department, looking at our expense reports rejected for the third time, the three of us were completely stunned. Before the trip, Vivian had practically sworn she would process them the second we got back. Yet Kevin’s was approved instantly. Meanwhile, the three of us—the actual sales reps who had spent a grueling week on the road bringing in business—kept getting rejected. Can someone translate what “as soon as possible” means in her dictionary? Seeing the irritation on our faces, Vivian clapped her hands. “You three are the backbone of our sales team. Making you visit the finance department a few more times is just to help you get familiar with company procedures. That way, you won’t make mistakes in the future!” Mike was the first to lose his patience. He frowned. “Vivian, we just got back. If there’s something wrong with our reports, can you at least tell us what it is?” “Besides, why did Kevin get fully reimbursed for a five-star hotel, while our budget motel rooms were flagged as ‘over budget’?” Right then, Kevin let out a soft chuckle. “Mike, aren’t you just playing dumb?” “Vivian always goes by the book. Your sales team submits way too many receipts. Of course she has to audit them carefully.” “You guys turn in more expense reports every month than the rest of the company combined. The company has to watch its budget, right?” The moment Kevin said that, the three of us understood. Vivian and Kevin simply thought we were spending too much. But every single expense was strictly within the company’s policy. We were on business trips, meeting clients. Every penny had a receipt. Everything was totally legit. Besides, yeah, our expenses were high, but the revenue we brought in was ten times higher! But when I pointed this out, Kevin just smiled condescendingly. “Sarah, that’s not fair.” “Vivian is doing this for the company’s best interest. How can you say she’s targeting you?” Realizing it was useless to argue with Kevin, Lisa turned directly to Vivian. “Vivian, you need to give us an explanation. The three of us bust our asses bringing in clients. Is this really how the company treats us?” Lisa’s voice cracked slightly with frustration. After all, she was a veteran employee who had been here since the company’s second year. Before Vivian could even reply, Joey from accounting poked his head out. “Lisa, your sales department’s monthly expenses are literally worth six months of our salaries. What’s wrong with waiting a couple of days?” Liam, another accountant, chimed in. “Exactly. Vivian works overtime every day to review your files, and you’re still complaining?” Someone muttered from the corner, “Well, they’re top sales reps. Of course they look down on us lowly accountants.” Hearing them blindly kiss up to Vivian made my blood boil. I raised my voice. “Let’s keep things separate. Your expenses get approved instantly, don’t they?” “Vivian, we travel for company business. Are you saying we should pay for work trips out of our own pockets?” Right during this tense standoff, Mike pulled out his phone and flashed a screenshot. “Vivian, you say we exceeded the budget. Then how do you explain this?” On the screen was Kevin’s Instagram story from last weekend. It showed a luxury oceanfront room at a five-star hotel with the caption, “Giving myself a weekend getaway,” geo-tagged in Miami. “$588 a night, approved instantly. We stayed at a $149 budget motel, and our requests were rejected three times. Is this your definition of ‘by the book’?” Kevin’s face turned pale. He lunged to grab the phone. “Why are you stalking my Instagram?!” “If you’re brave enough to post it, don’t cry when people see it!” Mike sneered. Vivian’s expression darkened. She snatched the phone, glanced at it, froze for a second, and then slapped it face down on the desk. “Kevin was meeting an important client. The policy is different for that.” But her voice was noticeably quieter, and she avoided our eyes. “What important client? His caption literally says ‘weekend getaway’!” Lisa added, twisting the knife. The surrounding colleagues began to whisper. Kevin’s face turned beet red. He pointed at Lisa. “Y-You’re targeting me!” Vivian slammed her hand on the desk. “Enough! If you three have a problem with company policy, you can pack your bags and leave! Stop making a scene here!” She took a deep breath, softening her tone slightly. “Alright, stop wasting my time.” Vivian waved her hand dismissively. “Kevin, grab last quarter’s reports. We’re having a meeting downstairs. As for you three, leave the files here. I’ll look at them when I have time.” She walked to the door, then turned back to add, “Oh, and book economy class for your next trip. The company is cutting costs.” With that, she left with the other accountants. Leaving the three of us stranded right outside her office door! But the very second Vivian walked away, all three of us pulled out our phones.

The three of us looked at our phones, typed something quickly, and locked our screens at the same time. Mike spoke first, “If she wants to play dirty, I’ll play dirty too!” “That $3 million outstanding payment from my client? I’m telling them they can delay it for another six months!” Lisa shrugged right after him. “Don’t worry. My biggest client, who has been with me for three years, won’t be renewing their contract next year.” I put my phone away and lowered my voice. “Mike, Lisa, don’t rush. Listen to me, I have a plan.” They both looked at me, confused. “I know you’re furious,” I continued. “But I have a better way. Give me three days, and I’ll make Vivian ruin herself. But for now, we need to play cool. Don’t confront her. Tell your clients to hold off, but don’t actually break the contracts yet.” Mike frowned. “What plan? You can’t even get your expenses approved.” I smiled. “It’s not the reimbursement I can’t handle. It’s the web of corruption Vivian built. Trust me. In less than a week, both Vivian and Kevin will be fired. But I need you to play along. Ask your clients to drop hints that they’re ‘unsatisfied’ and ‘reconsider our partnership.’ Once this is over, I promise you won’t lose a single client.” Lisa stared at me for a few seconds. “Sarah, are you hiding something from us?” I nodded. “Yes. But I can’t tell you yet. You’ll find out when the time is right.” Mike and Lisa exchanged a glance and finally agreed. Honestly, out of the three sales reps, I was the youngest and had the least seniority. But I had a secret they didn’t know. My family owned this company. I wasn’t here just to pass the time. My dad wanted me to start from the bottom to understand the real issues in the company. Over the past few months, I had discovered problems that went far beyond Vivian. Now that Vivian had decided to cross all three of us, it was the perfect opportunity. The evidence I had gathered in secret over the last few months went way beyond simple travel expenses. I had amassed plenty of evidence of Vivian and Kevin taking kickbacks and falsifying accounts. It was time to clean house. We went back to our desks and kept working. A little later, I went to the breakroom to get some water. As I passed the stairwell, I heard Kevin’s voice from inside. “Vivian, do you think they’ll actually complain to HQ?” I froze and leaned against the wall. “Complain? Let them try,” Vivian scoffed. “I’d love to see if the Chairman believes three lowly sales reps or his CFO.” “True,” Kevin chuckled. “But sucks to be them. Working so hard just to have their paychecks held hostage by you.” “They brought it on themselves. If they had just kept their heads down, this wouldn’t have happened. But they had to challenge me.” I went back to my desk and told Mike and Lisa what I had heard. Lisa clenched her fists. “I swear, I want to quit right now.” “Don’t,” I said, putting a hand on hers. “Quitting now is exactly what they want.” Mike gritted his teeth. “Fine. Let them enjoy their little power trip for a few more days.” The next morning, as soon as we got to the office, a company-wide email was waiting in our inboxes. From: Finance Department. Subject: Policy Update: Optimization of Sales Expense Management. I clicked on it. It was a new expense policy. “1. Travel allowance for sales personnel is reduced by 30%. Any excess must be paid out of pocket!” “2. All expense reports must be submitted three days prior to travel, or they will not be approved!” “3. The reimbursement cycle is extended from 15 business days to 60 business days!” … The three of us literally laughed out loud. As sales reps, last-minute trips to meet clients were completely normal. If we had to pre-approve everything three days in advance, we’d lose half our deals before we even got on the plane. And Vivian was obviously doing this just to choke our sales team because she thought we spent too much. But these were actual business expenses we paid to bring in revenue. Why should we pay for them? Mike was the first to speak up. But Vivian appeared out of nowhere, offering a smug reply. “Mike, rules are rules.” “We might not be a massive conglomerate, but we still have to manage our budget.” “Besides, if the company didn’t give you this platform, you wouldn’t even have these clients. You wouldn’t close any deals. Instead of being grateful, you complain about company policies. What a bunch of ungrateful freeloaders!” “What did you just say?” I stepped forward to confront Vivian, but Lisa grabbed my arm tightly. “Sarah, don’t. If this gets out of hand, we’re the ones who will suffer!” I took a deep breath. Lisa was right. We were outnumbered, and on paper, she held all the cards. But Vivian was thoroughly annoyed by us now. She didn’t expect us to stand our ground instead of falling in line like everyone else. She hated that we challenged her immediately. To show her petty power, Vivian decided to take the rest of the office out for lunch, leaving only the three of us behind. “Once you three learn how to be obedient employees, you can come talk to me!” With that, she strutted off with Kevin. Mike stared at their backs for a long time. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m resigning.” Lisa sighed. “Another company has been trying to headhunt me for months. Maybe I’ll just take their offer.” Seeing my two top-performing coworkers on the verge of quitting, I lowered my voice. “Mike, Lisa, don’t leave just yet. I have connections at the top. This isn’t over. Trust me, just hang in there for a few more days.”

In reality, our group was much larger than it seemed. The parent company had been publicly traded for years. I had only come to this subsidiary because my dad wanted me to gain experience from the ground up. After I graduated, my dad wanted to put me straight into management. But I wanted to prove myself and avoid being micromanaged by my family, so I insisted on starting as a regular sales rep. Now, though, I realized that since I was going to inherit the empire anyway, knowing the business inside out was actually a huge advantage. During lunch break, I hid in the restroom and called my dad. “Dad, Vivian is making her move. She just rolled out a new policy targeting the sales team.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Are you sure you want to shut her down now?” “Yes,” I said. “She’s crossed the line too many times. It’s time.” My dad hummed in agreement. “Alright. Keep playing cool on your end, and I’ll handle things here. By the way, about Thomas in procurement—the guy you mentioned last time. I had someone look into his books for the past three years. There’s definitely fraud there. We’ll clean them all out together.” Going through this together brought the three of us closer. Even though the expense issue wasn’t solved, we were in much better spirits. But because we didn’t go crawling back to her, rumors started spreading over the next two days. Gossip began circulating around the office. Someone mentioned that Vivian had been complaining behind our backs: “Some people think they’re royalty just because they closed a few deals.” Others whispered that Vivian had said, “An obedient employee is a good employee. If you don’t play ball, talent means nothing.” Hearing this only made me want to laugh. Without the three of us, where would the company get its revenue? How would they even get their bonuses? But their petty remarks couldn’t touch us. That night, I opened my laptop and went over the files I had compiled: records of Vivian and Kevin’s kickbacks, fake receipts, and evidence of Thomas in procurement colluding with them. It was all there. My dad was right. A company’s biggest threat isn’t the competition. It’s the parasites on the inside. Since Vivian was acting up, it was the perfect time to flush them all out. On Friday afternoon, while I was preparing my itinerary for next week’s business trip, a notification popped up on my screen. My travel advance request was rejected. The reason: Insufficient budget. I froze and looked over at Lisa in the opposite cubicle. She was staring at her screen with a dark expression. “Yours got rejected too?” I nodded. Mike poked his head over the partition. “Mine too.” Just then, Vivian walked out of the conference room with a group of colleagues. Lisa immediately called out, “Vivian, did you reject our travel advances for next week?” Vivian offered a sweet, fake smile. “What if I did? Since you three are so resourceful, why don’t you just cover the costs yourselves? The company is facing budget constraints. Every penny counts.” I raised my voice. “Vivian, this is incredibly unprofessional!” “Even if you had to reject it, you should have warned us!” “Our flight is tomorrow. What are we supposed to do?” “What you do is none of my business,” Vivian sneered. “If you miss your client meetings next week, it’ll count as unexcused absences!” “Then again, I’m reasonable. If you sign the new expense policy, I might make an exception and approve your advance.” “That new policy is a joke!” Lisa gritted her teeth. “No company in New York would ever treat their sales team like this!” “Vivian, I’ve been with this company for years. Is this how you treat your veterans?” “Stop playing the veteran card!” Kevin snapped, stepping forward. “Who cares how long you’ve been here? You think you’re more important than Vivian and me?” “We run the finances here. What we say goes!” “You’re just sales reps. There are thousands of people like you on the street. Don’t act like you’re irreplaceable!” Kevin’s words were incredibly nasty. Lisa’s face turned white with rage. Mike looked ready to punch him. I held them both back and took a deep breath. “Vivian, do you really want to take it this far?” Vivian glared at us. “What? You’re just nine-to-five wage slaves. You honestly think you’re in a position to challenge me?” “Let me tell you something: the company gave you your jobs!” “Cross me, and I’ll make sure you never see a single dime of reimbursement again!” I didn’t say a word. I just slipped my hand into my pocket and texted my dad: “Dad, it’s time for your entrance.” I put my phone back and waited. Less than ten minutes later, the office doors swung open. A middle-aged man stepped inside. The Chairman of the company, Mr. Harrison.

When the doors opened, Vivian was sitting with her legs crossed, sipping tea. When she saw him, she nearly dropped her cup. “C-Chairman? What are you doing here?” Mr. Harrison ignored her completely. His eyes swept across the room and landed on me. He walked over, his tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather. “Sarah, I heard the sales department has been quite lively lately?” The office fell dead silent. Vivian’s face drained of color. Kevin’s cup slipped, nearly hitting the floor. “C-Chairman… I didn’t know Sarah was…” “There’s a lot you don’t know,” Mr. Harrison said coldly. “Bring me the expense records from the past three months. I want to see them.” Vivian panicked. She rushed over to Mr. Harrison, lowering her voice. “Chairman, can we talk in private?” “Say whatever you have to say right here,” Mr. Harrison said, completely unmoved. Vivian bit her lip, glanced at me, and then seemed to gather her courage. “Chairman, I admit I’ve been a bit strict with Sarah’s expenses, but there’s a reason.” “Oh? What reason?” “Because… because I received an anonymous tip that the sales team was falsifying travel expenses. As the head of finance, I have to treat everyone equally. That’s why I increased the audit level for all sales reps.” She spoke with absolute righteousness. “I did it entirely for the company’s sake.” Kevin nodded eagerly beside her. “Yes, exactly! Vivian did it for the company.” I almost laughed out loud. What a convenient excuse. Mr. Harrison looked at her. “An anonymous tip? Where’s the evidence?” “Well… the tipster didn’t leave any physical proof, but as the head of finance, I couldn’t just ignore it.” “So, without any evidence, you targeted my daughter and two other top employees?” Mr. Harrison’s voice turned ice-cold. “Vivian, I’ll give you one last chance. Why exactly did you target them?” Vivian’s lips trembled. She couldn’t utter a word. Just then, Zach from the finance department came running over with a stack of files. “Chairman, I’ve pulled the expense records from the past three months.” Mr. Harrison took the files, flipped through them, and his face grew darker with every page. The results were black and white. Kevin’s expenses were approved instantly, despite exceeding the budget three times. Meanwhile, our expenses were repeatedly rejected for the most ridiculous reasons. Mr. Harrison closed the folder and nodded. He didn’t even bother taking Vivian to his office. Instead, he turned to me. “Sarah, do you have something else to show me?” Everyone gasped. I pulled a thick envelope from my bag and handed it over. “Dad, these are the files I’ve gathered over the past few months. It contains evidence of Vivian and Kevin taking kickbacks, falsifying receipts, and details of their revenue-sharing deal with Thomas from procurement.” Vivian’s face turned completely white. “Y-You… since when?” I looked her dead in the eye. “Since the very first day you rejected my expense report. Did you really think I was just some random sales girl? Sorry to burst your bubble, but my dad owns this company. I only came here to weed out parasites like you.” The pen in Mike’s hand clattered to the floor. His mouth flew open. He tried to speak, but it took him a full ten seconds to choke out, “So… your dad is the Chairman?” I nodded. He took a deep breath and looked at Lisa. Lisa had a complicated expression on her face, but she quickly smirked. “Damn, girl. You really had us fooled.” Mike scratched his head. “Wait, so all those times I complained about the company to you…” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him.” Mr. Harrison took the envelope, didn’t open it, and just nodded. “Well done. Vivian, come to my office.” Looking like a ghost, Vivian slowly followed Mr. Harrison.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “450551”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My parents sat in the front. Austin and Brooke had their own custom leather seats. For eighteen years, I was the only one forced to ride in the cramped cargo trunk. On my eighteenth birthday, my parents finally bought a brand-new five-seater SUV. I was so excited that I cried. After the celebratory dinner, Austin and Brooke ran ahead, eagerly jumping into the car and claiming the window seats. Austin laughed excitedly. “This is amazing! Now that we have an extra seat, our whole family can finally ride together!” I carefully took off my dirty sneakers, my heart pounding with anticipation as I prepared to climb in. But a golden retriever was already sitting in the remaining empty seat. Robert pulled open the back hatch, frowning at me. “What are you staring at? Get in. This is your spot.” That was the moment I realized it was never about not having enough seats. In their hearts, I simply didn’t exist. I stared at Buster sitting on the leather seat, completely frozen. The rear hatch was wide open, packed to the brim with Austin and Brooke’s sports gear and bags. “Next time, don’t pack so much junk. Chloe still needs to fit in here,” Robert muttered, casually kicking the bags deeper into the trunk to clear a tiny space. He looked at me and forced a smile. “What are you waiting for? Get in and see if you fit.” My throat tightened, but I still held onto a tiny sliver of hope. I pointed at the empty middle seat. “But Robert, isn’t there a seat right there?” “No way! If you sit there, where is Buster supposed to go?!” Austin poked his head out of the window, yelling defensively before Robert could even speak. “Buster is family! He deserves his own seat!” Family? A dog was family. Was I not? I choked back my tears and tried to compromise. “I can just hold Buster on my lap. That way, we both get a seat.” “What is wrong with you today, Chloe?” Helen snapped from the front seat, her voice dripping with irritation. “You’ve been perfectly fine in the back all these years. Why do you suddenly have to ruin things? Austin and Brooke are used to having their own space. If you squeeze in there, you’ll just make everyone miserable!” “You always have to ruin your siblings’ happiness. Why are you so selfish? Just do what you’re told!” Helen scolded. My hands clenched the hem of my shirt. Selfish? This SUV was bought using the prize money from my academic scholarship. I just wanted a single seat in a car I paid for. How was that selfish? They had five seats, and they would rather give one to a dog than to their own daughter. Tears splashed onto the pavement. I couldn’t stop sobbing. My crying was loud enough that people in the parking lot began to look over, whispering and pointing at us. “Cry, cry, cry. You always ruin the mood!” Austin slammed his car door shut in disgust. Brooke, embarrassed by the attention, stepped out of the car and fake-squeezed my hand. “Chloe, please stop crying. If you really want a seat that badly, I’ll swap with you, okay?” Before I could answer, Robert and Helen barked in unison, “No way! The cargo trunk is dirty and suffocating. You’re a delicate girl, Brooke. How could you survive back there?” My heart plummeted. So, they knew. They knew the trunk was dirty and suffocating. “Chloe, Brooke has been pampered her whole life. She’s not tough like you,” Robert said, his bias blindingly obvious. “Brooke is our little princess. She can’t handle that kind of discomfort.” “You’ve been riding back there for over a decade anyway. What’s the big deal if you do it a little longer?” Helen walked over with a fake smile, trying to grab my hand to brush it off like she always did. But this time, I shoved her away. I pointed at Brooke and screamed through my tears, “We are both your daughters! Why does Brooke get to be the princess while I always have to suffer?!” “I bought this car with my scholarship money! Why can’t I have a seat?!” “Shut up!” Robert’s face turned purple. Slap! He slapped me hard across the face. “You are my daughter! I gave you your life! What’s wrong with using your scholarship money? Throwing a tantrum over a car seat—how did I raise such a selfish brat?!” Helen wiped her tears, looking at me with pure disappointment. “You’ve really grown some claws, Chloe. How dare you try to steal from Austin and Brooke?” “I must have cursed myself in a past life to give birth to such an ungrateful leech!” I held my burning cheek, my ears ringing. The last spark of hope in my heart died right then and there. “Fine. You can keep the seat,” I whispered, staring at them. “And you can keep this family. I’m out.”

I ran back to our apartment, my eyes red, and packed my things. It took me less than two minutes. I barely owned anything—just a few worn-out clothes. As I looked at the tiny, folding cot shoved into the corner of the laundry room, a wave of bitterness washed over me. The apartment had three bedrooms. Robert and Helen had one, and Austin and Brooke each had their own spacious rooms. Meanwhile, I had lived in the corner of the laundry room for eighteen years. No bedroom. No car seat. All these years, my existence had been squeezed into the dark, neglected corners of this house. I had endured it year after year. But today, I was done. “Chloe! You get scolded once and you throw a tantrum? It’s just a car seat! Why do you have to be so incredibly petty?!” Robert kicked the laundry room door open, grabbing my wrist with a iron grip. “Do you have any idea how much you scared Brooke? She’s crying upstairs! Come with me right now and apologize to her!” He began dragging me toward the door. “Get your hands off me!” I screamed, shoving him away with all my strength. It was the first time in my life I had ever fought back. Robert stared at me in shock, which instantly morphed into violent rage. “Chloe! Over a stupid car seat, you’re going to disown your own parents? How can you be so vicious?!” “Yes! I am vicious!” I screamed back, grabbing my backpack and heading for the door. Brooke blocked my path, looking tearful. “Chloe, Robert only wants what’s best for you. Just apologize, and we can go back to normal…” “Don’t waste your breath on her, Brooke! Let her rot!” Robert roared, his face twisted in rage. “She ruins every single family event anyway. If she wants to leave, let her! I’ll pretend I never had a second daughter!” Austin leaned against the wall, shrugging. “Good riddance. She’s always been a curse. Just like four years ago, she brings nothing but trouble.” My feet froze. The painful memory rushed back. Four years ago, for Austin’s birthday, the family decided to go to a theme park. Amazingly, Robert and Helen decided to bring me along. The cargo trunk in the summer heat was like an oven. It was so hot I could barely breathe. But my heart had been full of joy because it was the first time they had ever agreed to take me out. I genuinely believed they loved me. But when we arrived, they got out, locked the car, and walked away. They forgot to open the trunk. Sweat soaked my hair. Every breath felt like inhaling fire. I banged on the metal door, my voice raw. “Robert! Helen! I’m still inside! Chloe is still in here!” But the only response was the fading sound of their laughter. As the oxygen ran out, my vision began to blur. In a desperate bid to survive, I grabbed a heavy metal tire iron from the tool compartment and smashed the back latch until it broke open. When I finally crawled out, my hands bleeding and raw, I ran toward them, crying and desperate for comfort. But the moment I reached Robert, he slapped me across the face. “Chloe! Could you not have waited a few minutes? Do you have any idea how much it costs to repair a broken trunk hatch? Why are you such a useless expense?!” The scars on my palms still throbbed. I pushed past everyone and walked out of that house without looking back.

It was snowing heavily outside. Shivering in my thin jacket, I huddled in a corner, blowing on my hands to keep them warm. As I stared blankly at the snow, a warm hand gently touched my shoulder. “Chloe?” I turned around and saw Mrs. Gable, my high school counselor. She was one of the very few people in my life who had ever tried to protect me. She knew about my living conditions—how I slept in a laundry room and rode in the trunk. She had clashed with Robert and Helen multiple times, furious on my behalf. She always told me I was a brilliant student with a bright future, and that I didn’t deserve to be treated like trash. “It’s freezing. What are you doing out here all by yourself?” Hearing her gentle, caring voice, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face. “Oh, sweetie, what happened? Who hurt you? Tell me. I’ve got you.” I collapsed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “Mrs. Gable, I don’t have a home anymore. I have nowhere to go!” I poured my heart out, telling her everything that had happened. With every word, her expression grew darker. By the end, she was shaking with pure rage. “How could they treat a brilliant girl like you like trash?!” She immediately took my cold hand and led me to her car. “If they don’t want you, I do! From now on, you can sit in any seat in my car. You can have any bedroom in my house. You will never have to suffer like this again!” And just like that, I moved into Mrs. Gable’s house. Her daughter had passed away from an illness years ago, and she lived alone after divorcing her husband. We looked after each other. Our life was simple, peaceful, and filled with warmth. As for my biological family, they never contacted me, except for the occasional fake text from Brooke telling me to “come home and apologize.” Sometimes, I saw their posts on Instagram. They posted pictures of the four of them smiling inside their new SUV. Buster the dog was sitting proudly in the middle seat. Helen had captioned it: Now that we have the new SUV, Buster finally has his own seat! He’s family, after all, and I could never bear to see him squeezed into a dirty, suffocating trunk. Austin commented below: Now that the eyesore is gone, the world is so much quieter! Robert and Brooke had liked the post. My heart felt cold. Even though I knew I was unwanted, seeing those words still felt like a knife to the chest. Just as I was about to close my phone, a bank notification popped up. My college scholarship fund had been deposited. Right after, Robert sent me two furious voice notes on Snapchat: “Chloe, we raised you for eighteen years, and you turn your back on us over a car seat? We were hoping to get a decent dowry when you got married to get our money back. Since you want to play dirty, we’ve decided to deduct $30,000 from your scholarship fund as compensation for raising you!” “From now on, you’re on your own for tuition and living expenses. We are officially even!” Mrs. Gable heard the voice notes. She was so angry she immediately handed me her savings card. “Thirty thousand? Please. I have more than enough. From now on, I am covering all your expenses, Chloe!” “Thank you, Mrs. Gable!” I choked out, throwing my arms around her and crying. I vowed right then to study as hard as I could, become successful, and repay her kindness.

From that day on, I poured all my energy into my studies. I got a full ride to Wharton Business School and graduated at the top of my class. After entering the financial corporate sector, my talent was quickly recognized. Within a few short years, I was promoted rapidly, eventually landing the role of Chief Financial Officer (CFO) of a multi-billion-dollar global conglomerate. Near the end of the year, my company was evaluating investment projects in rural areas. I rode back to my hometown in a luxury chauffeured Cadillac Escalade, escorted by our corporate security team. When we entered the town, I wanted to surprise Mrs. Gable, so I asked the security guards to wait at the edge of the neighborhood. As I walked past my old house, I heard loud music and saw two giant, tacky vinyl banners hanging across the front garage. Celebrating the Upcoming Marriage of Our Daughter Brooke to the CFO of Vance Enterprises, Derek! Congratulations to Our Son Austin for Winning the Million-Dollar Lottery and Buying a Brand-New Rolls-Royce! Under the banners, Austin and Brooke were laughing and dancing. Through Mrs. Gable, I had heard updates about them over the years. Austin had dropped out of high school, got arrested for grand theft, and spent a few years in prison. Brooke had drifted through shady crowds, worked at cheap bars, and was currently unemployed, living off our parents. At that moment, Uncle Ted walked up to the house carrying expensive gifts, his face covered in a fake grin. “Robert, Helen, you two are so blessed! Your son won a million dollars, and your daughter is marrying a CFO! You’ve hit the jackpot!” Robert and Helen couldn’t stop grinning. But I frowned. Brooke was marrying the CFO of Vance Enterprises? I was the CFO of Vance Enterprises. How did I not know about this? I pulled out my phone, called my executive assistant, and gave her the name “Derek.” Within two minutes, she called back. “Chloe, HR confirmed we had a security guard named Derek. He was fired last month for stealing company laptops. He was never an executive.” I stepped out of the shadow of the street, walking toward the gate of their yard. Inside, the four of them were huddled together, looking like a perfect, happy family. Robert draped his arm around Austin’s shoulder, pointing at the rented Rolls-Royce parked in the driveway, bragging to the neighbors. “See? My boy didn’t need college to be successful! He won the lottery and bought a Rolls-Royce! Unlike some ‘intellectuals’ who think they’re better than everyone!” “And our Brooke brought home a CFO! We are officially high society now! She really is our little princess!” Helen squeezed Brooke’s hand, proudly holding up a framed engagement photo. “Having these two children is the greatest blessing of our lives!” The guests clapped and showered them with praise, calling them master educators who raised a golden boy and girl. The yard was filled with laughter and warmth. Standing alone outside the gate, I felt like a ghost. I looked down, preparing to walk away quietly. But Brooke’s sharp eyes caught me. She gasped loudly. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” Instantly, all eyes turned to me. Austin frowned. When he saw the chauffeured Escalade parked down the street, he let out a mocking laugh. “Look who it is! Couldn’t make it in the big city, huh? Heard we got rich and came back to beg for scraps, didn’t you?” “I mean, you left so dramatically back then, but you come back riding in a cheap rental SUV?” Robert and Helen looked at the Escalade and sneered. “Coming back in a cheap car like that… thank god we cut ties with you years ago, otherwise we’d be embarrassed to death!” Robert scoffed. A cheap car? I looked at the high-end, custom-armored Escalade and almost laughed out loud. The guests began whispering among themselves. “Is that Chloe? The ungrateful brat who abandoned her family over a car seat?” “Showing up to crash a party in a rental SUV… how shameless!” “What a pathetic snob. What’s the point of getting good grades if you’re just a loser in the end?” I clenched my fists. I didn’t want to deal with this drama. I turned to leave. But Austin blocked my path. He parted his legs wide, pointing to the ground between them, and sneered, “You always wanted a seat in a nice car, didn’t you? Tell you what, crawl between my legs, and I’ll let you sit in my Rolls-Royce for five minutes.” “A broke loser like you probably hasn’t even smelled a luxury car before!” The crowd erupted into roaring laughter. Robert and Helen looked at me with pure disgust. “Today is a celebration for my successful children! A broke, ungrateful leech like you doesn’t belong here!” Robert barked. “Get lost! You make me sick!” Robert grabbed my shoulder, violently shoving me backward. I stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. Finally, my patience snapped. I reached into my coat, pulled out my official corporate executive badge, and slammed it right in front of his face. “You think I’m broke? Open your blind eyes and look at this!” Seeing the words Chief Financial Officer stamped in gold on the badge, Robert’s face instantly went pale. The neighbors and relatives behind him gasped in shock. But then, a sneering, arrogant voice broke the silence.

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My boyfriend’s foster sister has “Skin Hunger Syndrome.” If she doesn’t touch my boyfriend for a single second, she claims her skin itches so badly that she has to roll around on the floor. When they go out, they have to hold hands. When they come home at night, he has to warm her cold feet. She even insists on taking baths with him. So, when I saw her throwing another temper tantrum at the amusement park, demanding Carter play a “couples’ kissing game” with her, I suddenly felt a wave of sheer exhaustion wash over me. Looking at the bewildered booth owner, I said calmly, “Just let them kiss. I’m just a bystander. They’re the real couple here.” Carter smiled, looking relieved. “I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable, Sera. Chloe has a weak constitution. You should be the bigger person and let her have this.” I watched Chloe hold the giant teddy bear they won from the kissing game, her face glowing with triumph. I spoke in a flat voice. “Congratulations on passing the couples’ test. I hope you two have a long life together and get married soon.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, Carter’s sweet smile froze on his face. Chloe’s red lipstick mark was still smeared across his right cheek. “What is that supposed to mean, Sera? Are you breaking up with me?” “Can you stop making a mountain out of a molehill? Chloe and I were just playing a game. Do you have to take everything so seriously?” Making a mountain out of a molehill. Taking things too seriously. I had heard these excuses a thousand times. Over the past few years, whenever we crossed the street, Chloe would squeeze right between us, grabbing his hand. When she had her period, she demanded he rub her stomach, while I, who was hospitalized after a car accident, was told to just “drink more warm water.” She even squeezed into our bed at night, forcing me to move from the master bedroom to the living room couch. Had I ever not given in? Yet, Carter still labeled me as petty, jealous, and narrow-minded. Chloe looked at me, her eyes pooling with tears. “Oh, Sera… please don’t fight with Carter because of me.” “If my existence makes you this uncomfortable, I might as well just die!” With that, she threw the teddy bear to the ground, turned around, and bolted toward the busy highway. Carter’s face went pale. He lunged forward, grabbing her arm just in time, then spun around to glare at me with pure rage. “Are you happy now? Chloe didn’t ask to have Skin Hunger Syndrome! If anything happens to her, can you even live with yourself?” “How can you be so cruel? Do you really have to drive her to suicide to be satisfied? Do you even deserve to be my girlfriend?” I forced down the rising lump in my throat, staring at Carter’s hateful eyes. When we first started dating, he would explain to me that because they grew up together in the orphanage, Chloe was naturally clingy. Back then, if Chloe crossed the line, he would even scold her. But gradually, he began to completely ignore my feelings. Any time I showed the slightest dissatisfaction with Chloe, he would lash out at me. Thinking of this, I took a deep breath, forcing my tears back to preserve the last shred of my dignity. “You’re right. I don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? You can take care of her 24/7 now.” I turned to leave, but Carter grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. His eyes were bloodshot. “After everything, you still can’t accept Chloe. You just see her as a burden.” “Sera, how can you be so incredibly selfish?” Watching him criticize me yet again for Chloe’s sake, I suddenly realized how utterly pathetic this was. My friends used to tell me I was insane, a doormat, enduring things even a saint wouldn’t tolerate, allowing another girl to cling to my boyfriend like a parasite. I had endured it all because I loved Carter, but all I got in return was endless blame. I violently shook off his hand. “Believe whatever you want! I am done with this circus!” I had only taken two steps when I heard the loud crash of Carter kicking a plastic chair over behind me. “Seraphina Vance! If I knew you were this kind of cold-hearted woman, I would have never saved your life back then!” Boom. The words felt like a thunderbolt striking me right where I stood.

When I graduated from college, I started interning at my family’s company, Vance Group. On my way to work one day, a reckless driver knocked me off the coastal road, and I plunged into the ocean. It was Carter who risked his life to swim down and pull me out. When my parents found out, they broke all company protocols. They invested millions in him, showered him with resources, and fast-tracked him to become the Vice President of our conglomerate. Because of that life-saving favor, I fell for him. In my parents’ eyes, he was already their future son-in-law. But whenever I thought of Chloe—who crashed every single birthday, anniversary, Valentine’s Day, and vacation—I wanted so badly to tell my parents that the wedding was off. Yet, seeing how much my parents respected Carter, the words always died in my throat. Now, hearing him use that rescue to blackmail me emotionally, I knew with absolute certainty that I was done with him. I let out a bitter laugh, turning to look at his pathetic face. “Is that so? Without me and my family, do you think a fresh graduate like you could ever have become the Vice President of a multi-billion-dollar corporation?” “Carter! I paid you back for saving my life a long time ago. Don’t you dare use that to guilt-trip me ever again.” With that, I walked away with firm steps, never looking back. The moment I got into my car, my phone buzzed. It was my parents. “Sera, are you throwing another tantrum? Carter just called us to complain. Go apologize to him right now.” I took a deep breath. Looking out the window, I saw Carter and Chloe wrapped in each other’s arms. I spoke in a deadpan voice. “Mom, Dad, if you force me to spend the rest of my life with a man like him, I’d rather die.” For the first time, I poured my heart out, telling them every single piece of misery and humiliation I had suffered over the years. There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line. Finally, my dad let out a long sigh. “If we had known he was this kind of man, we would have never let you be with him.” “Break it off. Pack your things and come back home, sweetheart.” The suffocating weight that had pressed on my chest for years finally lifted. At that moment, I felt like I was finally breathing real air. The next day, I went back to the apartment we shared to pack my bags. But when I tried to log into the smart lock, it kept saying “Access Denied.” I called Carter. I could clearly hear his ringtone echoing from inside the apartment, but he refused to pick up. I banged on the door. It took a full thirty minutes before he finally swung it open, looking utterly annoyed. “You actually have the nerve to show up? Chloe was so upset because of you yesterday that she couldn’t sleep. I had to stay up all night comforting her.” “Apologize to Chloe right now, or we are postponing the wedding.” I couldn’t even remember when Carter’s tone with me had become this dismissive. Once, he had promised to protect me from the world. Now, he was the one locking me out. I didn’t bother arguing. I pushed past him and walked straight into the bedroom to pack. He frowned, about to yell at me, but the sound of Chloe whimpering from the living room made him abandon me instantly. Last year, Carter and I rented this luxury two-bedroom apartment. Chloe insisted on moving in. She claimed she couldn’t sleep in the guest room, so she took over the master bedroom I had spent weeks decorating. Every time Carter and I tried to have some intimacy, she would suddenly develop a stomach ache or a headache, finding any excuse to call him away. Initially, Carter would come back to my bed. But gradually, he said it was too much of a hassle and just started sleeping in her room. Every morning, seeing them cuddled together, I would brainwash myself: They are just foster siblings. They are just close. Thank God I didn’t have to lie to myself anymore. If it weren’t for my clothes and my dog, Teddy, I would have never set foot in this place again. “Teddy? Teddy, come here!” I called out, feeling uneasy. Usually, the moment I opened the door, Teddy would jump all over me. But now, he was nowhere to be seen. Just then, Chloe walked in, fake-crying. “Oh, Sera, why are you making such a mess? Carter bought this custom rug just for me, and you’re tracking dirt all over it.” Carter grabbed my shoulder and shoved me back, his face darkened with annoyance. “Have some respect. Why are you walking around with your shoes on? Do you think you’re the only one living here?” I stumbled back from the force of his push. Just as I was about to snap, I caught a glimpse of something shiny in Chloe’s hand. It was the blue sapphire charm from Teddy’s collar! I lunged forward, grabbing Chloe’s hand. “Where did you get this? Where is Teddy?!”

Chloe’s face turned pale, guilt flashing in her eyes. Carter stepped between us, his voice softening slightly, though his tone was still defensive. “Chloe really liked the sapphire, so I took it off the collar and gave it to her.” “And that dog of yours has a terrible temper. He almost bit Chloe, so I dropped him off at a high-kill shelter in the next county.” Seeing my eyes turn red, he tried to put an arm around me. “Come on, it’s just a dog. Chloe was terrified. Just buy her some jewelry, apologize, and we’ll call it even.” SLAP! I slapped Carter across the face with everything I had. “How dare you! Who gave you the right to throw my dog away?!” “He has been with me for eleven years! He is my family! I promised him I’d be there until the end! You monster, give him back to me!” I lost all control, grabbing Carter’s collar and scratching at his face. Carter dodged, his eyes burning with rage. “Seraphina, have you lost your mind?!” “I don’t care! Which shelter did you take him to? Get him back right now!” I tried to drag him toward the door. But he violently threw his arm back, casting me off. “Enough! It’s just a stupid, useless dog! Get over it!” His force was too strong. I lost my balance and tumbled backward, crashing down the spiral staircase. My head slammed heavily against the wooden steps. My vision blurred. A warm, thick liquid flowed down my forehead, dripping into my eyes. I touched it—my hand was covered in bright red blood. Carter stared at me, his voice trembling. “You… are you okay? Why is there so much blood?” I gritted my teeth through the blinding pain. “Call… call 911…” He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking. But then, Chloe’s sharp scream pierced the air from the living room. Without a second thought, Carter turned and ran toward her. Chloe was lying on the floor, weeping. “Carter, there’s dog hair on this sapphire… I think I’m having a severe allergic reaction!” Carter hovered over her, looking horrified at the tiny, almost invisible red speck on her skin. “Oh my god, this looks serious. What if it leaves a scar? We need to go to the hospital right now!” He scooped her up in his arms. As he ran down the stairs, he paused for a brief second, looking at me lying in a pool of blood. But Chloe let out a weak cough, and his hesitation vanished. “Stop faking it, Sera. It’s just a few steps. You’re fine.” “Chloe’s skin is too delicate; I can’t risk her throat closing up. Figure it out yourself, or just wait here until I get back.” With that, he carried her out, slamming the door. It was our elderly neighbor who heard my groans and called the ambulance. When I woke up in the hospital, my parents were sitting by my bedside, their faces pale with worry. After I told them what happened, my mother was ready to murder Carter. My dad immediately called our corporate lawyers to strip Carter of his Vice President title. “How dare that bastard treat you like this! I actually thought he was a good man because he saved you. I was ready to hand my daughter over to him! I was blind!” “He dared to let my daughter bleed on the floor? I will ruin him!” I reached out, grabbing the edge of my dad’s sleeve, and gave a weak smile. “Let it go, Dad. Now, we are officially even. He saved my life, and I gave him a career. We owe each other nothing.” Suppressing the final trace of pain in my heart, I asked if I could go to Europe for a while to recuperate. My parents agreed immediately. Over the next few days, I stayed in the VIP suite of the hospital. Carter didn’t call me once. He didn’t even send a single text to ask if I was alive. Meanwhile, Chloe’s Snapchat and Instagram stories were more active than ever. She posted photos of Carter taking her on a luxury yacht cruise, enjoying fine dining. There was even a photo of a man’s hand rubbing a white lotion onto her thigh. The caption read: Got a bug bite, and he insisted on applying the ointment himself. I’m a grown girl, but he still treats me like a baby. So embarrassing! In the photo, Carter’s right hand was still wearing our matching promise ring. I smiled, opened my settings, and blocked both of them on every platform. At the same time, out on the yacht, Carter suddenly felt a strange pang of anxiety. Chloe had been so needy the past few days that he hadn’t found time to call Sera. He wondered how her head was. A wave of guilt hit him. Sera had tolerated a lot over the years. Fortunately, he had finally found a specialized clinic in Switzerland that treated severe somatic touch disorders. Once he sent Chloe there next week, he and Sera could finally have their happy ending. He looked over at Chloe, who was busy taking selfies, and opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang. Thinking it was Sera, he answered it eagerly. But the voice on the other end made him freeze. “Mr. Sterling, your ex-girlfriend, Ms. Vance, has officially terminated the lease on your apartment.

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On our sixth wedding anniversary, I discovered that the elite nanny I paid a hundred thousand dollars a year for was tutoring my housekeeper’s granddaughter. The security footage from our living room showed everything clearly. Clara, our high-end nanny, was sitting on my sofa, holding an iPad. On the screen was the face of a four-year-old girl. She was reading an English picture book to the child, her voice warmer than it ever was when she spoke to my son. I screenshotted the video and sent it to my husband, Ethan. Three minutes later, he replied, “In a meeting. Let’s talk tonight.” At eleven o’clock that night, he finally came home. Seeing me sitting in the living room, wide awake, his first reaction was to frown. “What is it this time?” I slid my phone across the coffee table. “Whose child is that?” Ethan glanced at it. His expression didn’t change at all. He picked up my phone, deleted the screenshot, and tossed the phone back onto the table. “Clara took that side job on her own. It has nothing to do with me.” “Who pays her salary? We pay her a hundred thousand dollars a year. Without her employer’s permission, would she really have the guts to do that?” He remained silent. Then, the front door lock clicked. Someone was entering our home, typing in the passcode from the outside. A young woman walked in, holding a little girl’s hand. The woman wore a Chanel tweed jacket, her makeup flawless. The little girl had two neat braids and was clutching a plush toy. Seeing me, the woman froze for a second, then turned her eyes to Ethan. “Babe, hasn’t she moved out yet?” The little girl looked up at Ethan, let go of the woman’s hand, and ran toward him. “Daddy!” Ethan’s face went completely pale. I leaned back against the sofa, suddenly finding the whole situation hilariously absurd. The elite nanny I hired for a hundred thousand dollars a year was actually working as a private tutor for my husband’s mistress’s child. Talk about getting your money’s worth.

The woman’s name was Vanessa. She walked in with the little girl, looking as comfortable as if she owned the place. The girl threw herself against Ethan’s legs, crying out for her daddy. Ethan bent down and scooped her up, his movements so practiced it was clearly not his first time. Vanessa glanced at me, her eyes lingering for barely two seconds before turning back to Ethan. “Babe, didn’t she say she was moving out this week?” I sat on the sofa, wearing loungewear I bought three years ago, my hair tossed into a messy bun. Compared to this woman who screamed luxury from head to toe, I looked like the intruder in my own home. Ethan held the child, looking at neither me nor Vanessa. He lowered his head and said to the girl, “Lily, go back with Mommy first.” “No! I want Daddy to read me a bedtime story!” “Daddy will visit you tomorrow.” The little girl pouted and began to cry. Ethan coaxed her with a few soft words before handing her over to Vanessa. Vanessa took the child, gave me a cold look, said nothing, and turned to leave. Once the door clicked shut, the living room fell into a heavy silence. Ethan sat down across from me, crossing his hands over his knees, adopting his usual business negotiation posture. “Nora, we need to talk.” “About what?” “About a divorce.” He slid a folder across the table. I looked down at the cover: *Divorce Agreement*. “Look over the terms. If you have any objections, we can negotiate.” I flipped it open. The first page detailed the division of assets. Real Estate: The Long Island estate purchased after our marriage would go to Ethan. The Manhattan apartment under his name before our marriage would also remain his. All I would get was a two-bedroom apartment in the suburbs, worth barely a fraction of our estate. Child Custody: Full custody of our son, Leo, would go to Ethan. I would get visitation once a week, for no more than four hours. Spousal Support: A one-time lump sum of fifty thousand dollars. I read two pages and shut the folder. “These are your terms?” “They are highly reasonable. I bought the house, I started the company, and Leo has been raised by his nanny—who is Vanessa’s mother. You don’t have a stable job or income. No court would grant you primary custody anyway.” “Ethan, I married you the year after I graduated with my master’s degree. Your company had only five people back then. I was the one who helped you build it from the ground up.” “And now you’re telling me the company is yours alone?” “The legal representative is me, and the sole shareholder is me. Do you have any legal right to it on paper?” I stared at him for five long seconds. Six years of marriage. It took him four years to go from having nothing to being worth hundreds of millions. And it took me four years to go from his business partner to his unpaid maid. “I’m not signing this.” “Suit yourself. But if we go to court, the terms will only be worse for you.” He stood up, walked into his study, and locked the door behind him. I sat in the living room, staring at the divorce papers on the coffee table. From upstairs, my son’s crying drifted down. He was two and a half, and he still wanted his mommy every night. I walked upstairs and pushed open the nursery door. My son was climbing up from his crib, his tiny hands gripping the railing, his face flushed red as he mumbled, “Mommy, Mommy…” I picked him up, and he immediately buried his face in my neck, his sobbing slowly quieting down. His little body shivered slightly, like a frightened little animal. “Ssh, Leo is okay. Mommy’s here.” I patted his back, pacing around the room. The nursery was beautifully decorated. An imported crib, an air purifier that kept the temperature and humidity perfect, and piles of designer toys in the corner. All of these were items Clara had put on a list, Ethan had approved, and I had personally ordered and set up. The things were all here, but who was actually using them? My son stopped crying, his little hands gripping my collar tightly, refusing to let go. I sat in the rocking chair by the window, swaying gently, but my mind couldn’t stop thinking about that young woman.

Vanessa. I had never heard anyone mention that name before, but judging by the way she walked through that door, it wasn’t her first time here. She knew the security code. She knew the layout of the living room. She knew I was supposed to “move out this week.” Who gave her all that information? Martha, our housekeeper, had worked here for four years. She came to us the year I got pregnant. Martha was a great cook, worked efficiently, was always polite to me, and was dedicated to my son. For a long time, I thought I was incredibly lucky to find such a wonderful person on my first try. Later, Martha told me her daughter was divorced and had no one to watch her little girl. She asked if she could occasionally bring her granddaughter over. I agreed. I thought it would be nice for Leo to have a playmate. So, the little girl, Lily, started showing up at our house, coming two or three times a week, playing with my son and eating the baby food Martha prepared. But then, Martha claimed her ex-son-in-law was causing trouble and she was afraid it would put Lily in danger, so she didn’t dare bring her over anymore. I asked her what she would do. Martha said it was fine; she had hired a private tutor, and Lily would just go to the tutor’s house on weekends. I didn’t think much of it. I even asked if the tutor was expensive and if she needed financial help. Martha insisted it was very cheap and she could afford it. Now I knew the truth. That tutor was Clara—the elite nanny I was paying a hundred thousand dollars a year. Where did Martha’s daughter live after her divorce? Where did Clara have to go to teach her? The answer was simple: in a house bought by Ethan. Clara worked at my house every weekday from 3 PM to 9 PM. Her job was to look after my son, do early childhood development, and build his routines. On weekends, she rested—or rather, she went to tutor Martha’s granddaughter, Lily. And who was Martha? She was the housekeeper Ethan hired to look after his other child’s grandmother. What a massive, elaborate game they had been playing. My son fell asleep in my arms, his little face pressed against my chest, his breath warm. I gently laid him back into his crib, tucked him in, and sat by the bed in a daze. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Clara on SnapChat: “Mrs. Nora, Mr. Ethan told me I don’t need to come to work starting tomorrow. Did I do something wrong?” I stared at the message, my finger hovering over the screen for a long time. Clara was twenty-four, a child development major, holding top-tier certificates. She was articulate, neat, and it had taken three rounds of interviews to hire her. I had interviewed her myself, asking question after question, watching her reactions, her patience, and how she interacted with children. I had thought she was highly professional. She was young; she probably didn’t initiate this. But she didn’t refuse it either. She knew I was paying her a hundred thousand dollars, and she knew exactly whose child that little girl was. She chose to take money from both sides, keeping both in the dark. I typed out a line, then deleted it. After a few tries, I simply replied: “Mr. Ethan will communicate the details with you.” After sending it, I placed the phone face down on the nightstand. The study door downstairs was still closed. I went downstairs. My glass was empty, so I went to the kitchen for water. As I passed the housekeeper’s room, the door was shut and the lights were off. Martha should have been asleep. Wait—the housekeeper’s room was right next to the stairs. The door was closed, but a sliver of light leaked from the bottom. I walked over. Just as I was about to knock, I heard hushed voices from inside. “Be good, Lily. Grandma will come back tomorrow… Yes, Mommy is here too… Daddy said he’ll take you to Disneyland next week… Really, Daddy said so… Okay, Grandma loves Lily the most. Go to sleep now, sweetheart.” I stood outside the door, my hand frozen in mid-air. I didn’t knock. Martha was FaceTiming her granddaughter. In this house, she called me Mrs. Nora to my face, but behind my back, she referred to that little girl’s mother as “my baby girl.” I turned back to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and drank it in one gulp. The sound of the glass hitting the counter was a bit loud, but no one heard. I returned to the living room, picked up the divorce agreement from the coffee table, and flipped to the last page. Ethan had already signed it. His signature was bold and sweeping, carrying a condescending certainty. He was sure I would sign it. He believed I had no choice. He thought a housewife who had been out of the workforce for six years stood absolutely no chance against his team of elite lawyers. All I could do was sign. I closed the agreement and put it back where it was. My phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t Clara. It was someone tagging me in my college SnapChat group.

My college roommate, Chloe, was getting married next month. She posted her wedding invitation in the group, and everyone was congratulating her. I scrolled up through the chat history. My last message was from three months ago—someone had asked if I was there, and I simply replied, “Yeah.” Further back, from six months ago, when they were planning a reunion, I had said, “Can’t make it, busy with the baby.” Chloe sent me a private message on SnapChat: “Nora, how have you been? I feel like you haven’t been active in forever.” Staring at the message, my eyes suddenly welled up. But I didn’t let the tears fall. I sniffled, typing back: “I’m good, just busy with the kid. I’ll definitely make it to the wedding.” After sending that, I put my phone down and walked to the front door. The touch panel of the smart lock glowed with a faint blue light in the dark. I tapped the “change passcode” option and entered a new six-digit code. Then, I deleted all previously registered fingerprints—including my own, Ethan’s, Martha’s, Clara’s, and the one belonging to the person I had never met but who could easily open this door. I registered only my own fingerprint. After locking up, I went upstairs. In the master bedroom, the duvet was neatly folded. On the nightstand lay a half-read financial magazine belonging to Ethan. In the bathroom, his electric toothbrush was still charging. Two sets of toiletries sat side by side on the sink. My toothpaste tube was squeezed messily, while his was pristine. I grabbed a trash bag and swept all of his toiletries inside. Toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, face wash, aftershave—not a single thing was left. Then I went to the walk-in closet, dragged out his suitcases, and began pulling his clothes off the hangers, stuffing them inside without even folding them. Suits, shirts, pants, and socks were all tangled together, but I couldn’t care less. In less than fifteen minutes, two suitcases were packed. I dragged them out of the closet. As I passed the hallway, I noticed the study door was still closed. I knocked twice. “It’s unlocked,” Ethan’s voice called out. I pushed the door open. He was sitting behind his mahogany desk, several documents spread out in front of him. On his laptop screen was an open, encrypted folder. He glanced at the suitcases by my feet, his brows furrowing. “What are you doing packing bags?” I didn’t answer. I pushed the suitcases into the corner and clapped my hands, as if brushing off dust. “Ethan, I read your divorce agreement.” “And?” “I have a few revisions.” He leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his arms, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. I knew that expression all too well—it was the face he made whenever he held the upper hand in a negotiation. “Go ahead.” “First, I don’t want the suburban apartment. The Long Island estate is yours, and giving me that tiny two-bedroom place is insulting. I want your downtown luxury condo instead. Excellent location, market value around seven million. That will do.” He said nothing, but his smirk faltered slightly. “Second, I want sole custody of our son. You get visitation rights. You can see him once a week, for no more than eight hours. If you want, you can take him out, but overnight stays require my written consent.” “Third, I don’t want fifty thousand dollars. I want thirty percent of your company’s shares.” He laughed. A harsh, mocking laugh escaped his nose, filled with sheer disbelief. “Nora, are you out of your mind?” “Do you honestly think I wouldn’t dare take you to court?” He stood up, walked around the desk, and stopped right in front of me, looking down at me condescendingly. “What do you have to fight me with? I spend two million dollars a year keeping my legal team on retainer. What about you? You can’t even afford a decent lawyer.” “I don’t need to hire a lawyer.” “Oh? And why is that?” I pulled my phone from my pocket and pressed play. Martha’s hushed, smiling voice filled the quiet room: *”Be good, Lily. Grandma will come back tomorrow… Yes, Mommy is here too… Daddy said he’ll take you to Disneyland next week…”* Ethan’s face completely changed. It wasn’t a sudden shift from red to pale; rather, all expression drained from his face instantly. Every muscle froze, his pupils contracted, and his lips tightened into a hard line. Once the recording finished, I tucked the phone back into my pocket. “Martha has worked for us for four years. You knew about her granddaughter, you knew about Vanessa, and you certainly knew Clara was tutoring Lily. The only thing you didn’t know was that Martha would FaceTime her granddaughter in the middle of the night—and that my phone has a very efficient recording function.” “You—” “Ethan,” I interrupted him, “do you remember? I was the one who chose the security system for this house. I was the one who installed the cameras, including the one in the living room. I didn’t set them up to spy on the housekeeper; I did it to watch my son. But guess what? The system has another feature—every sound captured by the microphones is automatically backed up to a secure cloud server.” He fell completely silent. The study was so quiet you could hear the ticking of the wall clock. “Your terms were decent, but honestly, I think mine are much better.”

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The day I was released from prison, rain poured from the sky. I followed my husband to the cemetery to visit our daughter. Rain hammered against the tombstone. Vincent Moretti, Don of the Moretti family, suddenly spoke in a calm voice. “The day our daughter drowned, I was the one who had the surveillance footage from the lake by the docks destroyed.” I froze. The next second, I turned and met my son’s eyes. There was not a trace of guilt in them. Aiden’s tone was light, almost careless. “I testified that you abused my sister. I helped clear Celeste of suspicion.” The torment of more than a thousand days and nights in prison could not compare to one fraction of the pain of that truth tearing me open. Something bitter and metallic surged up my throat. I grabbed Vincent by the collar and broke down. “What did I do wrong? Why would you do this to me…” My son gave a soft laugh. “My sister is already dead. What, were we supposed to let Celeste go to jail?” “You are a wife with no real skills and no power. So what if you had to spend a few years behind bars?” Vincent pried my fingers loose one by one, his voice cold. “You enjoyed all the prestige of being Mrs. Moretti, while Celeste gave birth to my child and still could not even call herself my wife. I already owe them too much.” “So, Evelyn, as long as you stop causing trouble for Celeste and Pearl, I won’t send you back a second time.” … I collapsed in front of my daughter’s grave, chilled to the bone. Vincent bent down and brushed the wet hair from my face. “Evelyn, you’re the one who insisted on hiring someone to investigate Celeste.” “So I arranged for a few people to teach you a lesson. I wanted you to behave.” “I just didn’t expect them to go that far and leave you crippled.” The dull crack of metal striking bone exploded again beside my ears. That day, I had just found a lead proving Celeste had drowned my daughter. I was about to confront Celeste when a group of family bodyguards pinned me to the floor and brought iron rods down on my legs again and again. Lying in a pool of blood, I used the last of my strength to crawl, inch by inch, toward the door. “Help me…” But all that remained in the hallway was the sound of Vincent’s footsteps fading farther and farther away. The pain and despair of that day were still vivid. I took a deep breath and looked at the son in front of me. He felt like a stranger. Cold. Unreachable. My son glanced down at me in the mud and rain. “Stop acting like you’re the victim.” “Celeste was about to be honored by the family elders. You were the one who insisted on causing trouble for her.” “Father didn’t even want to hurt you. You pushed him into it.” My own flesh and blood was taking my enemy’s side. The last string in my mind snapped. I forced myself to stand and slapped my son hard across the face. “Smack!” The sharp sound cut through the rain. My son held his cheek, stunned. Vincent lunged forward and shoved me away. “Evelyn, why are you hitting a child?” I crashed into the tombstone. Fresh blood mixed with rainwater and ran into my eyes, dyeing the whole world red. Two family bodyguards dragged me into a car and took me back to the Moretti estate. Vincent pushed an adoption agreement in front of me. “Pearl will be adopted under your name.” Pearl Moretti. His daughter with Celeste. I swept everything off the coffee table, my eyes bloodshot. “Vincent, you want me to claim my enemy’s daughter? Dream on.” “She killed my daughter. I will never raise that bastard child.” Shards of porcelain cut the back of my hand. Blood dripped onto the carpet. Vincent frowned and pressed a handkerchief against the wound. “Evelyn, stop making a scene.” “If you could be a little more gracious and accept Celeste and Pearl, you will still be the wife I love most. Your place as Mrs. Moretti will always be yours.” Nausea rolled through me. I yanked my hand back. Vincent’s expression darkened. “Evelyn, you need to calm down.” “When you’ve thought this through, you can come out and talk to me.” He turned and left the room. The door slammed shut behind him. Silence returned. Blood kept seeping from my hand, carrying away the last trace of warmth in my heart. I immediately booked a ticket to the West Coast. I would never return to a home like this.

The servants’ gossip drifted in from outside the door. “The Don treats Miss Pearl so well. Tomorrow’s adoption banquet is even grander than his wedding to Mrs. Moretti back then.” “But isn’t tomorrow Miss Elsie’s death anniversary? Why would the Don choose that day?” “An unloved daughter only gets what she gets. Don’t waste your pity. Remember, tomorrow’s banquet will be livestreamed across the city. From now on, the Moretti family will have only one princess.” My nails cut into my palm, and blood welled out. On Elsie’s death anniversary, Vincent planned to step over his own daughter’s remains and throw a lavish banquet for his enemy’s child. Before long, the door opened. Vincent placed a cup of warm milk gently by the bed. “Evelyn, I had someone contact the best orthopedic specialist in New York.” “Your leg can still be treated. We’ll arrange rehabilitation next week.” He reached out to touch my hair, but I slapped his hand away. The tenderness on Vincent’s face vanished, and his voice turned hard. “I’ve done everything for your sake. I found you the best doctor. How long are you going to keep punishing me?” I looked at him coldly. “For my sake? Is that why you had my leg broken?” “For my sake? Is that why you protected the murderer who killed our daughter?” Vincent sighed, his tone full of helplessness. “You spoiled Elsie. She was so young and already pointing at people and calling them names.” “Celeste was insulted by her. She only pushed her once. Who knew she would fall into the lake?” “Even now, Celeste still blames herself. She’s suffered enough. You can’t put all the blame on her.” It felt as if my heart had been ripped apart. I could barely breathe. To protect that murderer, he was willing to smear a five-year-old child. When I was eighteen, I had collapsed on the floor covered in blood. At my feet lay the body of my abusive father. Beside him was my mother, who had just slit her wrists. Vincent rushed in and held my trembling body tightly in his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Evelyn. From now on, I’ll protect you with my life.” But now, the vicious face before me turned all the love I once felt into stagnant water. “Vincent, let’s end this marriage. I’ll get out of your way.” “All I ask is to take Elsie’s ashes with me.” Vincent fell silent. His expression grew more and more terrifying. In the end, he laughed coldly. “Divorce? Don’t even think about it.” “Tomorrow, you will attend the adoption banquet as Mrs. Moretti.” “If you refuse, you’ll never find out where Elsie’s real ashes are.” He released me and slammed the door on his way out. I stumbled out of the room, but stopped in front of that familiar door. When I pushed it open, all I saw were princess dresses, couture gowns, and a wall full of expensive jewelry. Elsie’s desk, toys, and bed were all gone. Oversized portraits of Celeste and Pearl hung on the walls. The closet was filled with limited-edition handbags and jeweled necklaces Vincent had bought. The room had been turned into Celeste and Pearl’s private dressing room. “Pretty, isn’t it?” Celeste leaned against the doorframe, swirling a glass of red wine. “When that little bitch died, she kept screaming for Mommy to save her.” “I pushed her under the water again and again.” “She struggled for five whole minutes before she stopped breathing. Her eyes were so wide when she died.” My blood roared in my ears. I raised my hand and swung at her face as hard as I could. Celeste did not dodge. A mocking smile curved her lips. Suddenly, a violent wave of dizziness hit me. My vision went black, and I collapsed heavily to the floor.

A bucket of ice water was dumped over my head. My eyes flew open. Family bodyguards forced me into an ill-fitting gown and dragged me roughly into the banquet hall. Under the glaring crystal chandeliers, my wretched appearance was exposed to everyone. “So this is the vicious woman who abused her own daughter to death?” “She still has the nerve to show her face after getting out? How unlucky.” “The Don really brought this on himself, marrying a crippled madwoman like her.” Laughter rose from every direction, each sound landing like a slap. Celeste walked over holding Pearl’s hand. She wore a familiar white gown and looked radiant. “Evelyn, you must have suffered so much.” Celeste’s eyes were red, her voice gentle. I stared at the dress on her body. It was the same style I had worn on my wedding day with Vincent. My stomach turned. Pearl suddenly threw herself into my arms and kicked my left leg hard. Pain shot through me like a drill. I cried out and shoved her away. Pearl used the momentum to fall to the floor and burst into tears. “What are you doing?” My son rushed over and picked Pearl up. “Didn’t you spend enough time locked away? Now you won’t even spare Pearl?” Vincent grabbed my wrist. “This is an important occasion. I won’t allow you to lose your temper again.” I struggled free and limped toward the doors. Celeste’s eyes reddened as if she were about to cry. “Evelyn Hawthorne, abusing your own daughter was bad enough. Why won’t you even spare innocent Pearl?” “As someone Vincent treats like a sister, I shouldn’t interfere in your family matters, but I truly can’t stand by and watch this.” “Pearl is so little. How can your heart be so cruel?” Her pitiful act drew sighs from the guests around us. The big screen suddenly lit up. Reporters bought off by the Moretti family swarmed around me. “Ms. Evelyn, according to our investigation, your father repeatedly committed domestic violence, and your mother brutally killed him.” “Did you inherit your parents’ violent tendencies? Is that why you murdered your own daughter?” The screen flashed wildly, and their accusations were shoved in my face. I froze in place as their voices drilled into my skull. After a long while, I finally came back to myself and screamed myself hoarse. “I was framed!” “Celeste is not his sister. She is my husband’s mistress. She inserted herself into our marriage.” “Pearl is her illegitimate daughter with Vincent. They are the ones who killed my daughter.” The entire hall fell silent. Celeste’s face turned white. Her body swayed, and she nearly collapsed. Vincent quickly reached out and caught her in his arms. Holding Celeste protectively, Vincent sighed. “I’m sorry, everyone. My wife was traumatized while she was locked away. Her mental state has been unstable.” He turned and leaned close to my ear. “Apologize to Celeste. Clarify that she isn’t my mistress. Say you accused her because you were jealous.” I clenched my teeth and stared at him. “Never.” Vincent unlocked his phone. A prepared message appeared in front of my eyes. Destroy Elsie’s ashes. Now. My entire body shook. A chill shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. “Vincent, you’re insane. That’s your own daughter.” “You won’t do this. You won’t.” Vincent looked at me coldly and pressed send without hesitation. “No!” I dropped to my knees, tears spilling from my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was jealous of Celeste. I framed her.”

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