The first thing I smelled was the copper of my own blood. The last thing I felt was the jagged edge of a broken champagne bottle tearing through my carotid artery. Then, I blinked. The neon glare of the club was gone. In its place was the sterile, flickering fluorescent light of the Stratton & Co. marketing floor. I was back. Back to the Tuesday morning when Mindy first proposed the “team-building” night that would end my life. In my previous life, it started with a whim. Mindy suggested we book a private lounge at The Ace of Spades, a high-end club where a single bottle of Armand de Brignac goes for three grand. She ordered ten. By 2:00 AM, she’d slipped out the back with the rest of the team, claiming she was “checking the valet.” She never came back. The owner—a man with a shaved head and a temper like a pressure cooker—found me alone in the wreckage of the VIP suite. He didn’t care about corporate politics. He wanted his thirty thousand dollars. When I called Mindy, she laughed over the speaker. She told me the champagne tasted like it had been watered down and that the owner should be “honored” a firm like ours even stepped foot in his “dive.” He didn’t feel honored. He felt murderous. 01 “Friday night. Private lounge at The Ace of Spades. I’ve got ten bottles of gold-label bubbles on ice. Don’t even think about being a no-show, babes!” Mindy was leaning against my cubicle partition, a bottle of cold-pressed peach juice dangling from her hand. Her lip gloss left a sticky, coral-colored ring around the straw. Peach. It was always peach. Sweet, soft, and cloying. Five of our six-person team nodded eagerly. I was the only one who didn’t look up from my monitor. “Norah? You’re in, right?” She tilted her head, her blonde highlights catching the office light. I didn’t hesitate. “No.” The sucking sound of the straw stopped. She kept the bottle to her lips, but her eyes narrowed. “Wait, why? It’s Friday!” “I’m busy.” “Is it the money? Don’t worry about the money, sweetie. It’s coming out of the team-building budget. Howard already signed off on it.” “The quarterly budget is eight hundred dollars,” I said, finally turning to face her. “Ten bottles of Ace of Spades is thirty thousand, plus the lounge fee. How exactly are you planning to expense that, Mindy?” The rhythmic clicking of keyboards in the department faltered. Diane, our senior lead, let her fingers hover over the keys. Mindy slowly lowered her juice and stood up straight. The smile stayed on her lips, but the warmth vanished from her eyes. “Norah, you’re so literal. It’s a hookup. The owner is a ‘friend’ of mine. He’s giving us a massive discount.” “How massive? Give me a percentage. I’ll help you run the numbers against the company’s audit policy.” She didn’t answer. Her fingernail traced a sharp, nervous line down the side of her plastic bottle. “Fine. If you want to be a buzzkill, be a buzzkill.” She turned on her heel. On her way back to her desk, she dropped a gourmet chocolate on Chris’s keyboard and gave Diane a playful squeeze on the shoulder. Every move was calculated, a masterclass in social engineering. I had watched her play this game for a year. In my last life, I was just a pawn she sacrificed to clear her tab. At 3:00 PM, Howard called me into his office. “Norah, I heard you’re skipping the team event?” “Yes.” “Reasoning?” “The cost is astronomical, Howard. Even at a fifty-percent discount, it’s ten times our allotted budget.” He tapped his fingers on his mahogany desk. There was a Yeti tumbler sitting there, decorated with a crooked heart sticker drawn by his young daughter. He looked like a family man, a responsible VP. “I’ll handle the financials. But Norah, your attitude is becoming a problem. Mindy works hard to keep morale up, and you’re making her look bad in front of the group.” “I’m not trying to make her look bad. I’m asking a math question.” “Ask it privately then. You’re making it sound like she’s… skimming.” He cut himself off, realizing where that sentence was heading. “Just go. Try to be a team player for once.” When I stepped out, Mindy was waiting at the end of the hallway. She had a new juice. A larger one. “What did Howard say, Norah?” Her voice was pure honey. “Nothing.” “Good. Honestly, I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first. Next time, you’ll be the first person I ask, okay?” She draped an arm over my shoulder. It wasn’t heavy, but her sharp manicure poked right into the soft skin above my collarbone. “Mindy, how many of these ‘team events’ have you organized this year?” “I don’t know… seven? Eight?” “All on the company dime?” “Duh. That’s what a budget is for.” “Do you keep the itemized receipts?” Her grip tightened for a fraction of a second. Then she let go, her smile never wavering. “Why the sudden interest in accounting? Want to see them? I can show you everything.” “Don’t bother,” I said. “I’ll find them myself.” I walked away. Her voice trailed after me, sweet and bubbly as if nothing had happened. “Okay! Suit yourself! Next time then!” Back at my desk, my phone buzzed. A voice note in the department group chat. Four seconds. Mindy’s voice was a low, conspiratorial whisper, the kind meant to sound like a secret shared for your own good. “Norah’s been under a lot of stress lately, guys. Let’s all try to be extra kind to her, okay?” Five minutes later, Diane peered over the top of her monitor, checking to see if anyone was listening. “Norah,” she breathed, her voice barely audible over the hum of the AC. “You shouldn’t have picked a fight with her.” 02 “Morning.” No one replied. It was 8:06 AM. The office was a tomb of mechanical clicks and white noise. I set my bag down and saw my computer was already on. The screen was stuck on a red system alert: Your account has been forcibly logged out. Please contact your administrator. I looked under the desk. My power strip had been yanked out—not accidentally, but with enough force to leave a gouge in the plastic. Chris sat across from me, his noise-canceling headphones on, eyes glued to his screen. He didn’t even look up. I went to HR to borrow a spare cable. When I returned, a Starbucks cup was sitting on my desk. The label read: Peach Green Tea Lemonade. Double Syrup. No name. Mindy’s signature. She was the only one who ordered from that shop. Under the cup was a Post-it note. Pastel pink. Her favorite. Don’t be mad, Norah! My treat. Peace offering? ~M. I dropped the drink into the trash can. I kept the note, tucking it into my drawer. At the 10:00 AM weekly status meeting, Howard was outlining the Q4 roadmap. When he got to the Market Expansion column, he paused. “Norah, what’s the status of the Highpoint Media project?” Before I could breathe, Mindy cut in. “Howard, I actually chatted with the Highpoint lead yesterday. I think there’s been a little… friction in the communication? I’m not sure, but he sounded a bit frustrated.” She sounded hesitant, like she was protecting me. It was a perfect performance—just enough to plant a seed of doubt in Howard, but vague enough to make her seem innocent. “Friction?” Howard frowned. “What kind?” “Just… technical stuff. He said the handoffs haven’t been smooth. I didn’t want to dig too deep since it’s Norah’s baby, you know?” She turned to me, eyes full of performative sympathy. “Don’t be mad that I mentioned it, Norah. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” In less than fifty words, she had buried three landmines. One: she turned a non-existent complaint into a “fact.” Two: she posed as the “reluctant” whistleblower. Three: she framed a betrayal as an act of friendship. I stared at her. “The Highpoint lead told you this? When?” “Yesterday afternoon. He called my cell.” “Did you call him back? Do you have a log?” She laughed. It was the wounded laugh of a friend being interrogated. “Norah, you’re acting like a prosecutor. I don’t record my calls. Who keeps a log of a casual check-in?” Chris chimed in immediately. “Exactly. Mindy’s just trying to help, and you’re giving her the third degree—” “Enough,” Howard snapped. “Norah, I want a full log of every interaction with Highpoint on my desk by EOD. Meeting adjourned.” At 2:00 PM, I bypassed our local drive and logged into the corporate ERP system. Expense reports are filed under the Administrative module, one page per month. March: Omakase dinner. $4,800. April: Karaoke Lounge. $4,500. June: Cross-departmental mixer at a mountain resort. $12,000. The limit for a mixer is $5,000. I pulled up the scanned attachment for the June retreat. It was a handwritten receipt with a blurry stamp. Looking closely at the digital scan, I could see the faint white edges of liquid paper where the original number had been covered. The “5” had been clumsily turned into a “12.” I hit Print Screen. The second the file saved, a notification popped up in the corner of my screen. Mindy. What are you working on, Norah? Come downstairs for a snack! They have those new matcha cookies, my treat! She was sitting three rows away, smiling at me over the sea of cubicles. How did she know what I was looking at? No thanks, I typed. Don’t be a hermit. Everyone thinks you’re acting so weird lately. I heard the click-clack of her stilettos on the tile. She leaned over my shoulder, the scent of her peach perfume so thick it made my throat itch. I could see the outer ring of her colored contact lenses. “Norah,” she whispered, her voice a low frequency meant only for me. “Some things in the system are meant to be read. Others… aren’t.” “I’m just doing my job, Mindy.” “Good to know.” She straightened up and shouted to the room, “Afternoon snacks are on me! Add your names to the Slack thread!” Within seconds, six emojis flashed in the channel. No one tagged me. When the elevator doors opened at 6:00 PM, it was just the two of us. She spoke first. “Norah, just so you know… those workflows you were looking at? Howard was the one who signed off on all of them.” The elevator reached the lobby. The doors slid open. She stepped out, then turned back to look at me, a sharp, peach-colored smile on her face. “Who do you think Howard is going to protect? You… or the system?” 03 “Norah, Highpoint Media pulled out.” Howard didn’t even wait for me to sit down on Wednesday morning. He snatched the project folder off my desk. “Pulled out? Why?” “Their Director called yesterday. Said your communication style was ‘abrasive’ and requested a change in lead. Since they’re already halfway out the door, I’m giving the account to Mindy to see if she can save it.” “He called Mindy? Not me? Not you?” “He called Mindy. She brought it to me. It’s done, Norah.” He walked away. I pulled up my phone. I had the Highpoint Director’s personal number. Our last text was from three days ago. He had sent a data sheet and added, Great work on the proposal, Norah. Very solid. I typed: Hi, regarding the lead change, do you have a moment for a quick call? I hit send. A second later, a red exclamation point appeared. Message not delivered. It wasn’t a network error. He had blocked me. Three days ago, I was his favorite strategist. Today, I was a ghost. I didn’t know what had happened in those seventy-two hours, but I knew who had orchestrated it. At lunch, I walked into the breakroom. Chris and two other associates were huddled around the microwave. The second I entered, their voices dropped to a muffled hum. “…I heard the audit thing is getting serious…” “Shhh, she’s right there.” Chris grabbed his Tupperware and walked past me without a word. The others followed like ducklings. The microwave hummed, spinning someone’s abandoned leftovers. I stood there in the silence, feeling the oxygen being sucked out of the room. When I got back to my desk, I realized my drawer was slightly ajar. Everything had been moved. Not tossed—carefully searched and replaced. But my pens were facing the wrong way. My notepad had shifted an inch to the left. The pink Post-it was gone. Mindy had reclaimed her trail. And the thumb drive. The grey drive where I’d saved the ERP screenshots was gone. It had been sitting right next to my keyboard. Now, the space was empty. I logged into my computer. The screenshots on my desktop were gone. The trash bin had been emptied. The security cameras in our zone had been “out for repair” for three months. Mindy had joked about it in the group chat back then: “We’re all family here, who needs big brother watching?” Family. At 5:00 PM, Mindy returned from “off-site.” She was carrying a large bakery box. “Babes! I took a baking class! Who wants homemade sea-salt cookies?” She distributed them one by one. When she got to me, she set a large, crumbling cookie directly on my desk. “This one’s the biggest. Just for you, Norah. Don’t say I never give you anything.” Her voice was so sweet it felt like it was calcifying into sugar. She hadn’t said a single negative word about me in public all afternoon. But every person who walked past my desk looked away. You don’t need a broken bottle to kill someone. You just need to trap them in a world where everyone listens to you, and then slowly stop the air. At the bus stop after work, Diane appeared next to me. We both looked straight ahead. “Howard’s wife is Mindy’s cousin,” she said, her lips barely moving. I cut my eyes toward her. “How did you find out?” “Last year’s Christmas party. Howard’s wife came to pick him up. Mindy ran up and called her ‘Cuz.’ There were two hundred people in that hall, but I was the only one standing at the right angle to hear it.” The bus pulled up. Diane stepped on. Just as the doors were closing, she looked back. “You can’t win, Norah. Don’t kill yourself trying.” 04 Norah, please report to HR on the 19th floor immediately. The email arrived at 8:00 AM. CC’d: Howard, the HR Director, and Legal. Legal. In my last life, Legal never got involved in “performance reviews.” The conference room door was open. Five people were already seated. Meredith, the HR Director, sat in the center. Mark from Legal was on the left. Howard was on the right. At the far end sat a middle-aged man in a sharp suit, flipping through a stack of printed documents—an outside auditor. “Sit down, Norah.” Meredith’s voice was cold. She had a set of A4 papers spread out in front of her. Forms and signatures. “Do you recognize these?” She slid them across the table. Five expense reimbursement forms. $1,600, $2,300, $1,800, $2,100, $1,900. Totaling nearly ten thousand dollars. In the “Requested By” box was my signature. Every single one. The handwriting was terrifying. The slant of the ‘N,’ the way the ‘r’ looped—it looked exactly like mine. Except I had never signed them. “I didn’t sign these.” “These were submitted using your employee ID and login,” the auditor said, pushing his glasses up. “The system logs show five submissions over the last six months. Howard approved them under the impression they were for cross-departmental events—catering, venue deposits, travel stipends.” “We cross-referenced,” Meredith added. “Three of these events never happened. The other two cost less than five hundred dollars. The rest is… missing.” I looked at the signatures. In my last life, I hadn’t lived long enough for the audit to catch up. “Howard,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Did you look at the content when you approved these?” Howard’s face turned a dull grey. He gripped his Yeti tumbler until his knuckles went white. “Mindy told me you submitted them. She said she was helping you with the workflow because you were ‘struggling’ with the software. I trusted—” The door opened. Mindy walked in. Her eyes were red. She was clutching a tissue, her nose slightly pink. She had been crying, or she was perfectly prepared to. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered. She took the last empty chair. Right next to me. “Meredith, I feel so responsible for this.” Her voice trembled. “I helped Norah enter these into the system. She said she was confused by the interface, so I just… I did it for her. I didn’t check the amounts. We’re friends. I trusted her.” She looked at me. In those watery eyes, I didn’t see guilt. I saw the deep, satisfied hunger of a predator watching its prey hit the trap. “Norah, just tell them. Tell them you asked me to do it.” “I didn’t.” “If you say that…” her voice broke, “then whose signature is that?” The auditor cleared his throat. “We’ve done a preliminary comparison. The signature on these forms is a 91% match for the signature on Norah’s original employment contract.” Meredith leaned forward. “Norah, you have two choices. You can cooperate and tell us where the money went, or we can involve the authorities and turn this into a criminal matter.” Mindy’s shoulders shook with a sob. She pressed the tissue to her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. Tears rolled down her cheeks, perfectly timed. “Meredith, Norah is a good person. Maybe it’s just a… a misunderstanding?” She didn’t finish. She buried her face in her hands. The four people in the room looked at Mindy with far more sympathy than they looked at me. My keycard was confiscated. My laptop was locked. I was told to leave the premises immediately pending a full investigation. The hallway was silent as I walked out. Mindy caught up to me at the elevator. The tears were gone. Her face was dry, her foundation perfectly smooth. “Norah, wait.” She stepped in front of the elevator doors. She pulled a bottle of peach juice from her bag, unscrewed the cap, and took a long sip. “Do you know why I picked you?” I didn’t speak. “Because you were ‘useful.’ On your first day, Howard asked who was willing to stay late to organize the archives, and you were the only one who raised your hand. I knew right then.” She wiped a drop of juice from her lip. “Just admit it, Norah. Ten grand isn’t that much. Pay it back in installments. I’ll talk to Meredith, tell her you’re going through a ‘personal crisis.’ They’ll fire you, sure, but they won’t call the cops.” “And if I don’t admit it?” She tilted her head. Her false lashes fluttered. “Don’t admit it? Norah, I’ve seen the agenda for the Annual General Meeting next week. Your name is on the last slide.” She shook the juice bottle at me. “That’s the slide for ‘Public Termination for Cause.’ See you then, babes.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “438289”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the starting line of the nightmare. My brother, Brad, always had a twisted obsession with playing God. He lived for the aesthetic of the “perfect pair.” To broadcast his whirlwind romance with Diana Blackwood—the city’s youngest tech billionaire—he didn’t just stop at matching His and Hers bathrobes or synchronized calendars. He decided I was the final piece of his collection. “It’s about symmetry, Nico,” he’d said back then, his eyes gleaming with a manic sort of pride. “The billionaire and her protégé, and you—my brother—with her right-hand woman. It’s a match made in heaven.” In my past life, I folded. I let him push me into a marriage with Morgan. For three years, she was the perfect wife. She was attentive, bordering on doting. She curated my life with such surgical precision that I actually let myself believe it was love. I believed the lie until the very end. But when I was dying, lying in a sterile hospital bed and begging her over the phone to come sign the consent forms for a life-saving surgery, all I heard was a low, jagged laugh. “You actually think you’re worth my signature?” Her voice had sliced through the line like a scalpel. I remember the coldness that seeped into my marrow as she dismantled our entire three-year history with a few sentences. “You loved playing house with your brother’s little matching game, didn’t you? But Cody is my only match. A man like you? You were only ever fit for the trashy girls I could pick up off the street for fifty bucks.” That was when the truth came out. On our wedding night, the woman in my bed hadn’t been her. It had been a girl she’d hired from a dive bar to humiliate me before the marriage even began. She had spent three years weaving a web of fake affection just to destroy me, all to avenge some perceived slight against her “precious” Cody. I died on that operating table, my heart heavy with a hatred so pure it brought me back. 1 Brad wouldn’t stop talking. “Come on, Nico. What do you think of Morgan? Diana’s chief of staff.” He shoved a glossy photo toward me. “She’s brilliant, she’s gorgeous, and she’s Diana’s inner circle. You’re a catch, she’s a catch. It’s poetic!” I stared at the photo, the phantom pain in my chest a sharp reminder that this was real. I was back. In my last life, I’d agreed to this because I valued “loyalty” and “friendship.” I didn’t want to rain on Brad’s parade. Morgan was a master of the long game. She had played the part of the gentle, cultured woman so well I’d been fooled for over a thousand days. The memory of her voice in that hospital room—the sheer, unadulterated disgust—made bile rise in my throat. I pushed the photo away so hard it skittered off the mahogany table. “I’m not interested.” Brad blinked, his practiced smile faltering. “Wait, what? Nico, you usually go along with this stuff. Morgan is incredible. She’s exactly your type.” I looked him dead in the eye, my gaze cold enough to make him flinch. “If you’re so desperate to find a ‘match,’ go to a shelter and pair up some Labradors. I’m done being the accessory to your ego.” Brad’s face flushed a deep, embarrassed crimson. Sitting next to him, Diana Blackwood narrowed her eyes. “Nico, Brad is only trying to look out for you.” I grabbed my bag and stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. “I can look out for myself. I don’t need his brand of ‘charity’.” I threw open the door to the private lounge and nearly collided with a woman standing in the hallway. The scent hit me first—sandalwood and something expensive. It was Morgan’s scent. The same eyes that had deceived me for years were now staring directly into mine. “Leaving so soon, Mr. Vance?” she asked, her voice a low, melodic purr. I couldn’t help it; I recoiled. The physical urge to get away from her was visceral. “Move.” Morgan arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. My hostility clearly wasn’t in her script. She took a step closer, invading my space. “You seem to have a very specific grievance with me, Nico. Have we met?” I looked up, meeting her gaze with a sneer. “We haven’t. But I know your type, and I don’t like what I see.” She let out a soft, amused huff. “You’re quite the character. But don’t you think snubbing Diana and Brad like this is a bit… short-sighted? They have your best interests at heart.” “My interests aren’t up for public debate,” I snapped, sidestepping her and walking toward the exit. I could feel her eyes on my back, heavy and calculating, all the way to the elevator. I went straight to my apartment and started packing. I needed to disappear, to put as much distance between myself and that woman as possible. But an hour later, the doorbell rang. Morgan stood there, holding a leather-bound folder. “Nico, we need to talk.” I tried to slam the door, but she wedged her designer heel in the frame. Her expression shifted from polite to predatory. “It’s about your father’s estate. The venture capital firm he left you. Don’t you want to know how deep in the red it actually is?” I froze. That company was the only thing I had left of him. In my previous life, I’d handed the keys to her right after the honeymoon. She’d gutted it and used the assets as a “dowry” for Cody’s start-up. I let her in, my face a mask of ice. She tossed the folder onto my coffee table. “The credit lines are frozen. If you don’t get an influx of at least five million in the next seventy-two hours, the bank begins liquidation. Your father’s legacy becomes a footnote in a bankruptcy filing.” She leaned in, her eyes locking onto mine. “And I’m the only one who can write that check.” I actually laughed. It was a hollow, jagged sound. “And let me guess. There’s a catch.” Morgan moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Marry me.” “What could you possibly want with me, Morgan? Why this game?” “I want you,” she said, her voice dripping with a simulated sincerity that made my skin crawl. I picked up the folder and, without breaking eye contact, tore the entire thing in half. Then I tore it again. “Let it go bankrupt,” I said, my voice steady. “I’d rather beg for change on the street than spend a single second bound to you.” 2 The moment she left, I called my CFO. It was worse than she’d described. Not only were the lines frozen, but several massive short-term loans were being called in early. It was a coordinated strike. Someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. It had to be Morgan. It was her signature move: create a fire, then show up with a glass of water and demand a kingdom in exchange. It was exactly what she’d done in my first life, and I had been too blinded by grief to see the matches in her hand. Not this time. I spent the next forty-eight hours listing my condo, selling my watch collection, and reaching out to old rivals to sell my shares at a loss. But every door was slammed in my face. Word had gotten out. Diana Blackwood had made it known: anyone who helped me was an enemy of the Blackwood empire. Brad called me, his voice thick with a fake, pitying concern. “Nico, just swallow your pride. Morgan is crazy about you. She went to Diana on her knees to get that funding approved for you. If you marry her, the company is saved, you’re taken care of, and everyone wins. Why are you being so difficult?” I hung up and blocked him. Three days later, the process server arrived with a summons. The walls were closing in. I was sitting in the middle of my half-empty apartment when the door opened. Morgan stood there, silhouetted against the hall light, holding a black umbrella. “Stop fighting, Nico,” she said, walking toward me like a victor surveying a battlefield. “One word from you, and this all goes away.” I looked up at her. “Does it make you feel powerful? Backing someone into a corner just so you can play the savior?” She frowned. “I’m trying to help you.” “By cutting off every exit?” I stood up, closing the distance between us. “By telling Diana to blackball me? You don’t want a husband, Morgan. You want a pet.” She reached out and gripped my jaw, her fingers digging in with surprising strength. “My patience is wearing thin, Nico. You’re going to marry me. You don’t have another choice.” I felt a dark, twisted smile spread across my face. “Fine. You want a wedding? We’ll have a wedding.” She blinked, startled by the sudden compliance. She let go of my face, her expression softening into that practiced, “gentle” mask. “Good. I’ll handle the arrangements.” I didn’t say a word. I remembered the first wedding—the way she looked at Cody over my shoulder while we danced. This time, I wasn’t an oblivious lamb. I just needed the money to hit the accounts. Once the wire transfer cleared, I’d be gone before the ink on the license was dry. On the day we signed the papers at City Hall, Morgan was radiant in a cream-colored suit. She took my hand as we walked down the stone steps. “We’re family now, Nico.” I pulled my hand away and checked my watch. “Whatever you say.” A charcoal-gray sports car pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down to reveal Cody. In my last life, Morgan would have moved mountains—or killed me—just to see him smile. “Hey, Sis. Congrats,” Cody said, his eyes flicking to me with a smirk. “So this is the new groom? Handsome. No wonder you skipped my birthday dinner to handle his ‘paperwork’.” Morgan’s shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. She turned to Cody, her voice laced with a sudden, sharp anxiety. “Cody? What are you doing here?” Cody climbed out of the car and draped an arm around her shoulders with a familiarity that was insulting. “Just wanted to see the man of the hour. Hey, Morgan, my stomach is killing me again. Can you take me to the clinic? I don’t think I can drive.” He didn’t even try to hide the provocation. He was marking his territory. Morgan looked back at me. “Nico, Cody isn’t feeling well. I need to get him to the doctor. I’ll have the driver take you home.” In my last life, this was exactly how it started. On our first day as a married couple, she left me at the curb for a “medical emergency” that turned out to be a party. I had spent my wedding night alone, thinking I was being a supportive husband. I nodded. “Sure. Have a safe trip.” Morgan seemed unsettled by my lack of emotion. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Cody pulled her toward the car. As they sped off, I pulled out my phone and called the company controller. “Did the wire hit?” “Yes, sir. Five million, cleared ten minutes ago.” I felt the first real spark of joy in weeks. “Transfer it immediately to the offshore holding account. Then call the authorities. We’re filing for Chapter 7 and reporting the company for suspected fraudulent investment. Freeze everything.” 3 I went back to the penthouse—the “marital home” she’d bought. I spent an hour taking every “His and Hers” item she’d meticulously placed—the matching towels, the monogrammed pillows—and tossed them into the trash chute. Then I booked the first flight to London. I was reaching for my suitcase when the front door was nearly kicked off its hinges. Morgan stormed in. Before I could react, she had her hand around my throat, slamming me back against the hallway wall. “You played me!” she screamed, the veins in her neck bulging. “The money is gone! You filed for bankruptcy? You liquidated the very thing I bought for you?” I gasped for air, staring back at her with a defiance that fueled her rage. “Yeah,” I choked out. “Your money… it felt dirty. I didn’t want it.” Her grip tightened. I saw red at the edges of my vision. “You’re dead, Nico. I will destroy you.” I managed a jagged grin. “Then do it. Kill me. But you’re never getting that money back.” She abruptly let go. I slid down the wall, coughing and clutching my throat. She hovered over me, her face a mask of pure malice. “You think you can just run?” she hissed. “I know where your father’s ashes are buried, Nico. You think I won’t have that urn smashed and scattered in a gutter by tomorrow morning?” I started to shake. In my last life, this was how she broke me. She’d used my father’s memory to force me to donate bone marrow to Cody. I lunged at her, my palm connecting with her cheek in a stinging slap. “You monster!” She didn’t flinch. She just slowly turned her head back to me, her eyes burning. She swiped a thumb across her lip where I’d drawn blood. “Good,” she whispered. “I like it when they fight back. Since you won’t be a husband, you’ll be a prisoner.” She pulled out her phone. “Cancel all flights in Nico Vance’s name. Freeze his personal accounts. And put a guard at the cemetery. If anyone so much as touches his father’s plot, I want to know.” She looked down at me one last time. “From today on, you don’t go anywhere without my permission.” The house arrest began. She confiscated my phone and my ID. I was locked in a gilded cage, a high-tech villa on the outskirts of the city. By day, she was the powerful executive. By night, she came home to find new ways to break me. She’d order the cook to make things I was allergic to. She’d turn the AC down to freezing and take all the blankets. Eventually, she started bringing Cody over. She’d let him lounge in her lap while I sat across the room, a silent witness. “Look, Morgan, he’s watching us,” Cody would giggle, leaning into her. Morgan would barely glance at me. “He’s just a toy that won’t follow instructions. Don’t mind him.” I sat there, watching the performance, feeling nothing but a profound sense of nausea. In my first life, this would have gutted me. Now, it was just pathetic. I got up to leave the room. “Stay right there,” Cody called out. “Nico, get me a glass of water. I’m parched.” I ignored him and kept walking. “I said stop!” Morgan’s voice cracked like a whip. “Cody asked for water. Did you lose your hearing?” I turned around. “Is this why you forced me to marry you? To be a waiter for your pet?” Morgan was across the room in seconds. She grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing my head back. “Husband? You think you earned that title? You’re here for penance, Nico. Your father ruined Cody’s family. He drove them to the brink of extinction. Now, you’re going to pay that debt back in blood.” I froze. “What are you talking about? My father was an honest man. He never hurt anyone.” “Lie to yourself if it helps you sleep,” she spat, shoving me away. “But you’re going to spend the rest of your life making it up to him.” She turned to Cody, her voice instantly turning sweet. “How should we punish him today, Cody?” Cody stared at me, a cruel light in his eyes. “I’ve been feeling so lightheaded lately, Morgan. The doctor said I’m anemic. Maybe Nico should give me some of his blood?” Morgan didn’t even hesitate. “Done.” She called her private doctor. Two security guards pinned me to the dining table while they drew eight hundred milliliters of blood. My vision went black. I felt cold—a deep, hollow cold that started in my chest and spread to my fingertips. I collapsed onto the floor, unable to move. Morgan looked down at me, her eyes devoid of anything resembling humanity. “This is just the beginning, Nico. I’m going to take everything you owe him, piece by piece.” 4 The fever hit that night and didn’t let go for days. Morgan refused to call a doctor. She had a maid pour bitter, nameless herbal teas down my throat while I shivered under thin sheets. I was too weak to even crawl to the bathroom. Cody would come into my room while she was at work, just to gloat. “You look pathetic, Nico,” he said, tracing a finger down my cheek. I tried to flinch, but I didn’t have the strength. “Morgan doesn’t love you. She feels sick every time she has to touch you. On your wedding night? She didn’t even stay in the building.” He leaned in, whispering with a jagged grin. “She hired a girl from a street corner to sleep with you. It’s a shame you ran away so early—you missed out on her favorite part of the prank.” I stared at him. Even though I knew the truth, hearing it out loud felt like being plunged into ice water. I forced myself to sit up, summoning every ounce of remaining strength to slap his face. “Get out.” Cody shrieked and fell back onto the floor. The door flew open. Morgan charged in, her face contorting when she saw Cody on the ground. She rushed to his side. “Cody! What happened?” Cody started sobbing, clutching his cheek. “I just wanted to check on him, Morgan. I felt bad for him… and he hit me!” Morgan turned on me, her eyes wild with fury. “You’re asking for death, Nico!” She lunged forward and delivered a backhand so hard I was thrown across the bed. My lip split, and my ears rang with a deafening hum. “If you ever touch him again, I will kill you myself!” I wiped the blood from my mouth and laughed. It was a wet, rattling sound. “Then do it. Kill me now. End the play.” Morgan gripped my chin, her nails drawing blood. “Kill you? That’s too easy. Cody’s kidneys are failing. And what a coincidence—you’re a perfect match.” My heart stopped. “No. You can’t. That’s illegal.” She laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “In this city, I am the law. Next month, you’re going under the knife.” The next few weeks were a clinical nightmare. I was force-fed supplements and injected with vitamins every day, like a pig being fattened for slaughter. They weren’t caring for me; they were maintaining the hardware. I tried to escape once. The maid had left the door unlocked. I made it to the kitchen and grabbed the landline, dialing 911 with shaking fingers. “Help, I’m being held against my will… they’re going to harvest my—” The line went dead. I looked up to see Morgan standing there, the cord wrapped around her hand. “You never learn, do you?” She dragged me by my hair back to the bedroom and threw me onto the bed. “If you’re so eager to leave, we’ll move the surgery up. Today.” The guards strapped me to a gurney. The surgical lights were blinding. I thrashed against the restraints until my wrists were raw and bleeding. “Morgan! You’ll rot in hell for this! Let me go!” Morgan stood by the operating table, her face a mask of indifference. “This is what you owe him.” She turned to leave as the anesthesiologist approached, but suddenly, a white-hot pain bloomed in my abdomen. Not the surgery—something else. A deep, tearing agony. “It hurts…” I gasped. “Something’s wrong…” The doctor stepped forward, his face going pale as he checked the monitors. “Ms. Blackwell… his vitals are crashing. It’s a massive internal hemorrhage—an old condition must have flared up from the stress and the blood loss. He’s too weak. If we take the kidney now, he’ll die on the table before we even finish the first incision.” Morgan froze. She turned back, staring at me. “What did you say?” “He’s in critical condition,” the doctor stammered. I was slipping away, the pain so intense I could barely see. “Morgan… please… help me…” Morgan’s expression shifted, a flicker of something—doubt? Fear?—crossing her face. But then the doors burst open. Cody was being wheeled in on another gurney, gasping for air. “Morgan… it hurts… I can’t breathe… the doctor said if I don’t get the transplant tonight, I won’t make it to morning…” In my last life, she let me die in that hospital. In this life, she looked at my fading eyes, then looked at Cody. “He’s just a piece of trash I picked up,” she said, her voice like iron. “If he dies, he dies. Save Cody. Start the transplant now.” I felt the cold take over. “Morgan… I hope you see my face every time you close your eyes…” Then, a deafening explosion rocked the building.

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My husband Ethan Chase was sent undercover. No lavish wedding for me, no honeymoon either. When I had complications giving birth to our daughter, he was on a mission. Our daughter is seven now, and she’s only seen him in photos. “Vivian, I’m sorry. Being with me has made you suffer. Once this mission wraps up, I’ll come back and we’ll be together.” Every time we talked, I’d smile and say it was fine, that his safety mattered more. Until our daughter fell seriously ill, and I ran into him at the hospital with a pregnant woman for her prenatal checkup. “Mommy, look…” My daughter pointed at him excitedly. I immediately covered her mouth in panic. “Don’t call out! Your dad’s on a mission—it could put his life in danger!” My daughter looked at me with confusion written all over her face. “Mommy, what are you talking about?” “That’s my classmate’s dad. He picks her up from school every day.” “My classmate’s about to have a little brother. When are you going to give me a sister?” I forced myself to stay calm and dialed Ethan’s number. “Ethan, where are you? Our daughter’s sick.” Not far away, he glanced at his phone. He bent down to kiss the pregnant woman’s face, then frowned and walked to a corner to answer. He deliberately lowered his voice: “Vivian, I’m on a mission abroad. I have to hang up.” After ending the call, he stared at his phone, distracted. It took him a while before he took the prenatal test results and went to queue for registration. My eyes stung terribly. As if possessed, I carried my daughter and walked over. Charlotte Lane was sweet-looking, completely non-threatening. She was clearly someone who’d been well-protected all her life. When she learned my daughter was her son’s classmate, she brought me to a café next to the hospital. She ordered juice for the two children, then cheerfully pulled me into small talk. When she talked about Ethan, her eyes practically sparkled. “My husband and I have known each other for ten years. I was his first love. When we first got married, there was a misunderstanding, and in a fit of anger I ran off to Europe. He couldn’t find me and was depressed for quite a while. But seven years ago, he came to Europe to find me. We reconciled and had our first child.” Seven years ago. I turned my face away, afraid she’d see the tears welling in my eyes. That was when Ethan and I first met. I had just graduated high school when my family forced me to get married. After a huge fight with my parents, I ran away from home and met Ethan in an alley. He reeked of alcohol, lying on the ground vomiting blood. When he saw me, he stared for a long time before explaining he’d been injured on a mission. I believed him and took him to the hospital. Later we fell in love, and I followed him to this unfamiliar place. Until he went abroad on a mission, and I discovered I was pregnant. I endured the pregnancy and delivery all alone. Back then I didn’t know anything, not even how to properly recover postpartum. The landlord bullied me for being an outsider and threw me and my baby out in the middle of the night. I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “So… have you two always had a good relationship?” Charlotte took a sip of her milk tea and closed her eyes contentedly. “Very good. When I had our first, he was there for the entire delivery. He booked the best postpartum care center.” “Most people rest for a month after giving birth, but he insisted I take three full months.” “This time my morning sickness has been severe with the second baby, and he’s been so worried he’s lost a lot of weight too.” I gripped my straw so tightly I wanted to stab it into my flesh. Charlotte looked at me curiously. As if she’d discovered something exciting, she couldn’t contain herself. “No wonder we hit it off so well—haven’t you noticed we look a bit alike?” “Actually, I know that during the three years I was abroad, my husband found a substitute who resembled me.” “My husband said that woman was barely educated, completely on a different intellectual level from him.” “I’m pretty understanding about it. I just think of it as my husband finding a free prostitute.” The tip of the straw pierced under my nail, but I felt no pain. Charlotte didn’t notice my reaction and smiled at me smugly. “You have no idea how much my husband dotes on me. When he found out that woman was pregnant, I lost control and had someone run her over with a car. I heard she hemorrhaged badly.” “That woman reported it to the police, but my husband didn’t blame me at all. He took care of all the trouble for me.” “After I had our first baby, I had some postpartum depression. I had people harass that woman, calling her a homewrecker. Watching her carry her child around looking so helpless—it felt so satisfying.” “Oh, and my husband was even more ruthless. When the homewrecker was arguing with people, he and I just sat in a car across the street watching the show.” Late pregnancy, getting hit by a car, all alone with no one to turn to. I crawled to a nearby hospital by myself to beg for help. The day people called me a homewrecker, Ethan choked up on the phone for the first time, saying he was sorry. How ironic it seems now. My vision kept going black. I almost fainted from my seat. Charlotte finally noticed something was wrong and worriedly supported me. “Are you okay? We’ve been chatting so long—where’s your husband?” I opened my mouth, my throat tight. “He…” Just then, an indulgent yet helpless voice came from behind us. “Drinking milk tea behind my back again. Charlotte, you’re being naughty.”

The familiar voice exploded above my head. I mechanically turned around. The moment our eyes met, Ethan froze. I’d thought about going crazy, demanding to know why. But I had to consider my daughter’s feelings. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” I stood up, lowered my head, grabbed my daughter, and fled. That dark gaze followed me like a shadow, accompanied by Charlotte’s coquettish voice. “Come on, forgive me just this once.” “She’s our son’s classmate’s mom. Pretty pitiful—her daughter’s sick and her husband doesn’t even care.” When I got home, I locked myself in my room and cried for a long time. The doorbell rang in the evening. It was Ethan. “Mister, why are you here?” My daughter was curious. He frowned, seeming uncomfortable. I forced back my heartache and sent my daughter to her room to do homework. Once only the two of us remained in the living room, I finally had a chance to really look at him. He’d gotten thinner. He’d changed too. He didn’t drink the hawthorn tea I brought him, even though he used to love it. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I beat his chest with my fists, crying my heart out. “Why did you lie to me? You made our daughter into an illegitimate child!” “Do you have any idea how landlords kept kicking us out, how much contempt I endured with our daughter?” Back then I’d look for work during the day and sleep at the bank at night. On my first day of work, my finger got pierced by a machine. I didn’t cry. I just gently pulled my finger out and sat there in a daze. I kept telling myself to be strong, that everything would be fine when he came back. Now he was back, but as someone else’s husband. Ethan let me vent without saying a word. He just kept glancing at his phone. When I was too tired to hit him anymore, he helped me sit down, then quickly stepped back several paces. With a complicated expression, he pulled out a bank card. “Vivian, I’m sorry. From now on I’ll deposit child support in this card regularly.” “Just one condition—please don’t hurt Charlotte. She’s innocent.” I threw the bank card at his face like a madwoman. “She’s innocent—so I’m not? Our daughter’s not?” “I treated you as my husband. What did you treat me as? What did you treat our daughter as? Take your dirty money and get out!” His eyes turned red. Words came to his lips but he swallowed them back. After taking a phone call, he turned and left. He left in such a hurry that he trampled the flowers I’d planted in the yard. Those were flowers he and I had planted together seven years ago. “Come back! Explain yourself!” I wiped away my tears and chased after him. My daughter suddenly came out of her room, her face deathly pale, gasping for breath. Panicked, I picked up my daughter and screamed at his retreating back. “Ethan Chase! Our daughter’s having an asthma attack! Come back!” He acted like he hadn’t heard. Without any hesitation, he got in his car and left. I had no more tears left. No voice left to cry. I held my daughter and rushed to the roadside, flagging down a taxi to the hospital. “There are no beds available? Doctor, please, my daughter really can’t wait.” My daughter couldn’t breathe. She was starting to lose consciousness. Just like the past seven years, I numbly knelt and begged. But this time my daughter’s condition was extremely critical. The doctor told me expressionlessly to try another hospital. Just then, Charlotte appeared. “Vivian Adams?” She happened to be at this hospital waiting to give birth. After learning the situation, she immediately had Ethan help arrange for my daughter to be admitted. I felt a complicated mix of emotions. “Thank you…” “Don’t mention it. Your husband’s not around, so it’s only right we help you. Right, honey?” She kindly pulled me close and wiped the tears from my face. Ethan uncomfortably turned his head and pulled their son away. “Charlotte, I’ll take our son home first and bring back some toiletries for you.” The boy refused to leave. “Dad, I don’t want to go. I want to stay and wait for my classmate.” Ethan instinctively glanced in my direction and warned the boy in a low voice. “Don’t play with trashy people. They’ll be a bad influence on you!” He dragged the child away against his will. I trembled with rage. I wanted so badly to ask him why he said that about my daughter. They were both his children—why treat them so differently? But thinking of Charlotte’s kindness, I hesitated.

As soon as he left, Charlotte’s eyes suddenly reddened. “Vivian, he went to see that woman last night.” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason I felt guilty. She gave a bitter smile, her voice muffled. “Actually, after I got pregnant with the second baby, I was worried he couldn’t handle it, so I gave him permission to temporarily see that woman for relief.” “You know what he said?” Her nose turned red, looking pitiful. “He refused. He said women outside were dirty, that the time he didn’t use protection with that woman was because he was drunk.” “He wanted her to abort the child, but it was a life after all. I couldn’t bear it, so I told him to bring the child back to raise.” “He disagreed. He said he only recognized children I gave birth to. The homewrecker’s child had no right to appear before me.” I bit my lip hard until I tasted iron, forcing the tears back. So my daughter wasn’t someone he wanted. That’s why he could bear not coming back to see us even once in seven years. “Ouch, my stomach.” Charlotte suddenly clutched her belly and cried out in pain. I realized she was about to give birth and instinctively reached out to support her. Just as I was about to touch her, a strong force shoved me to the ground. Ethan had returned. He shielded her behind him. Then turned to face me, furious to the point of losing control. “Vivian Adams, did you ignore everything I said? If anything happens to Charlotte, I’ll kill you!” The back of my hand scraped against the concrete, the skin torn off. It burned with pain. I didn’t want to cry, but tears fell uncontrollably. “Is this what you think of me?” His gaze landed on my bleeding hand. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He seemed about to say something but stopped. Charlotte looked between us in confusion. “You two know each other?” He panicked. As if terrified I might say something to Charlotte. Before I could speak, he dragged me outside. “I’m worried about people with unclear backgrounds like her approaching you with ulterior motives.” I gave up resisting and laughed through my tears. “Right, someone from my social class doesn’t deserve to know you.” I must have been blind before. But then my daughter rushed out of the emergency room, crying and hitting him. “Bad man, let go of my mom!” “Let go!” Ethan winced in pain and instinctively pushed her away. Due to the momentum, my daughter screamed and tumbled down the stairwell. Ethan’s face changed. He quickly reached out to grab her but missed. “My child!” Everything happened too suddenly. I had no time to save her. Instead, Charlotte reacted in time and pulled my daughter back up. But the next second, her features contorted in pain. “Help! My water broke!” “What happened to you? All because you saved my daughter.” I panicked, feeling both grateful and guilty toward her. Despite her dazed consciousness from the pain, she still comforted me. “Vivian, don’t worry. We hit it off so well—saving your daughter was the right thing to do.” Ethan looked horrified and frantically carried her to the emergency room. The fetal position was abnormal. The situation was serious. This tough man actually knelt down. “Doctor, please save my wife. I’ll pay any amount.” The operating room doors closed. He remained kneeling in despair, praying. “Please God, let my wife deliver safely. I’ll trade my life if necessary.”

Passing medical staff couldn’t help but admire his devotion. My daughter and I felt like intruders, completely out of place. For a moment, everything felt so unreal. Was that Ethan who once only had eyes for me really just using me to pass the time? “Mommy, I feel awful!” My daughter’s painful cry woke me up. Her condition hadn’t stabilized. Her eyes rolled back and she started convulsing. Terrified and incoherent, I knelt before Ethan holding her. “The doctor said she needs surgery right away, but all of today’s surgeries are fully booked.” “Please save our daughter. I promise I’ll never appear in front of you again.” Charlotte had mentioned he was one of the hospital’s shareholders. He must have a way. My daughter was barely conscious in my arms, delirious with discomfort. “Mommy, Daddy, I feel awful…” Ethan softened. His hand moved toward her uncontrollably. Just then, the operating room doors opened. The doctor tiredly removed his mask and smiled: “Congratulations, mother and child are both safe.” He abruptly pulled his hand back and rushed over, pressing delicate kisses on her forehead. “Charlotte, you worked so hard. Two children are enough. We won’t have any more.” Charlotte weakly opened her eyes and couldn’t help complaining softly. “Isn’t it three? That woman gave you one too.” Ethan hesitated, then chuckled softly. “Only the ones you give birth to deserve my last name!” All color drained from my face. I could barely stand holding my daughter. He looked up at me, his expression gradually becoming complicated. After escorting Charlotte back to her room, he came after me. “Vivian, I’m sorry. I misunderstood you earlier.” He moved his gaze from my bleeding hand to my daughter. As if making a huge decision, he finally agreed to hold our daughter. “You’ve had it hard these years. I’ll arrange the surgery right now.” Tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t see his expression clearly, but I heard the tremor in his voice. Watching my daughter enter the operating room, I mechanically signed the consent form. When I looked up, I saw Ethan pushing Charlotte over. My nose stung. I couldn’t help wiping away tears. “Charlotte, why aren’t you resting? Why did you come here?” She completely dropped her previous gentleness, her smile dripping with mockery. “Vivian Adams, playing with you all this time has actually made me feel a bit sorry for you.” “My younger son was born with a severe blood disease. He needs a complete blood transfusion.” “Your daughter happens to be a match. All we needed was your signature on this surgery consent form!” She waved the form I’d just signed. I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cellar. I suddenly understood everything. I grabbed Ethan and screamed hysterically: “She’s your daughter too! How can you bear to do this?” He didn’t dare look me in the eye. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you later.” Charlotte leisurely enjoyed watching my agony. “Do you understand now? You were never his weakness!” I was consumed with hatred. I looked at them and laughed coldly with meaning. “Someone as uneducated as me—did you think I’d be easy to manipulate?” “Why don’t you go inside and see who exactly was sent into the operating room?”

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How rich can a person be? My Alpha husband Hector is very rich. The Dubois pack he leads is the wealthiest of all packs. In our five years of marriage, every time he goes out to accompany his childhood sweetheart Layla, he transfers a property to my name. After I had 99 properties under my name, Hector suddenly discovered I had changed. I didn’t cry or make a fuss, didn’t beg him not to go out. I just took the initiative to choose the best villa in Dubois pack and waited for him to sign the property transfer agreement. The man signed, the pen tip leaving sharp marks on the paper. For the first time, he showed a hint of hesitation, his voice low: “When I get back, I’ll take you to see the fireworks.” I obediently put away the agreement and softly answered: “Okay.” I just didn’t tell him that what he signed this time was our divorce agreement. I also made an appointment with a witch for 30 days later to help me dissolve the mate bond between Hector and me. After 30 days, I’ll be able to leave completely.

In the office, news of Layla’s return to Dubois pack was playing on TV. The man’s gaze remained locked on the news footage, those deep eyes reflecting Layla’s image. Even when he took the property transfer agreement I handed him, his slender fingers gripped the pen and signed without hesitation. Villa No. 1 in the western suburbs—a property in Dubois pack that money couldn’t buy. It wasn’t important in Hector’s heart. Just like me in his heart—equally unimportant. When the news ended, the man was in a good mood. He casually tossed the pen on the desk with a crisp sound, pushed the agreement toward me while joking carelessly: “I’ve transferred over sixty houses to you, right? You’re a little rich woman now.” The barely suppressed joy in his tone wasn’t to congratulate me. It was only because his beloved Layla had returned to the pack. I stood in front of his desk, my slender fingers smoothing the corners of the agreement, and nodded. “The western suburbs villa has an ocean view. I really like it.” I didn’t tell him this was actually the 100th property he’d transferred to me. Hector and I are fated mates. Back then, we fell in love at first sight. As an Alpha, Hector didn’t care at all that I was just an ordinary wolf. His love for me was generously passionate. At a moonlight ball once, we danced one dance after another. Afterward, we lay together on the lawn looking at the stars. Hector held my shoulder and told me “I love you” a hundred times. I smiled with narrowed eyes and made him a promise: “If you make me sad in the future, I’ll leave you after the hundredth time.” Under the moonlight, Hector kissed my eyes: “I swear I’ll make you happy. I’ll never give myself the chance to hurt you.” Hector broke his word. His love for me didn’t last long—only until the day Layla first returned to the country. It was our first wedding anniversary. I waited in the candlelight dinner Hector had personally prepared, happily waiting for him to come home. But all I got was a property transfer agreement and a cold apology. “Sorry Nora, I missed our anniversary. Will you forgive me?” I ignored the strong, unfamiliar perfume scent on him and hoarsely forgave him for the first time. What followed was the second time, the third time, the fourth time… It was through so many betrayals that I learned Hector had loved his childhood sweetheart Layla since they were young. But when Hector wanted to confess to Layla, she met and fell in love with her own fated mate. Layla followed her mate to another pack. Hector was heartbroken. It was under these circumstances that he met me. After that, we fell in love, got married, and everything seemed happy. Then Layla’s mate died, so Layla came back. And Hector chose without hesitation to go find Layla. In five years of marriage, he abandoned me countless times to accompany his childhood sweetheart. Eventually, he even started proactively giving me a house before going to find Layla. From the first house to the ninety-ninth. Every time, I forgave him. And now, it was exactly the hundredth time. Hector, after this time, I won’t need to forgive you anymore. Thinking this, I smiled with relief and looked at him calmly. Hector froze, and his deep blue eyes actually showed a trace of reluctance. Then with some hesitation, he said to me: “When I get back, I’ll take you to see the fireworks.” In the past, whenever he showed even a hint of softness, it would become my fantasy of trying to win him back. I would cry and beg, then despair. Because Hector would always pry my fingers away one by one and coldly leave two words: “Crazy.” Fortunately, I’d already been crazy ninety-nine times. And now, the hundred times were complete. I didn’t need to continue this self-deception anymore. Because in the stack of contracts I’d just handed him, I’d secretly hidden a divorce agreement. I also found a witch who could help dissolve the mate bond. The witch said she needed to prepare and would perform the dissolution in 30 days. Hector. Thirty days from now, we’ll have nothing to do with each other anymore.

Countdown: twenty-five days. In these five days, the man’s usually clean social media feed was unusually lively. During the day, they fed pigeons in the plaza. At night, they watched parade floats from the hotel observation deck at the amusement park. I didn’t miss a single step they took together. As for what he promised me, he’d probably forgotten long ago. I stood up to pack my luggage and had just spread a mess on the floor when I suddenly received a call from Connor, Hector’s Beta warrior. “Luna Nora, remember to come to the fireworks show at Moon Pool at eight o’clock.” “If anything goes wrong, Alpha Hector definitely won’t let me off.” In the eight years I’d been married to Hector, only his Beta called me Luna Nora. Because he was the only one who knew about my marriage relationship with Hector, and the only one who knew I was the Luna of Dubois pack. Thinking about it now, maybe Hector proposed keeping our marriage secret because he was afraid Layla would hear the news and refuse to date him. I didn’t want to make things difficult for Connor, so I agreed. But when I actually set out for Moon Pool, I was in a daze for a moment. Five years ago, when Hector and I had just gotten married, he gave me a secret fireworks show. Connor had quietly told me about it then too. Five years later, heading to the same place, my mood was completely different. When I arrived near Moon Pool, countless tourists had already gathered there. There were even many media outlets. I was puzzled, afraid I’d gotten it wrong, so I called Hector. The other end of the line was endless busy tones. I called again. I didn’t know what I was expecting. But no matter how many times I called, no one answered, and I never saw any trace of Hector. Looking at the time, it was almost eight o’clock. Someone in the crowd was already shouting: “The fireworks show is about to start!” “This is the fireworks show Alpha Hector prepared for his wife. We’re lucky to catch it.” I froze. In public, Hector’s image had always been unmarried. The wife they spoke of couldn’t possibly be me. It could only be someone else. I knew the best viewing spot for the fireworks was on the northernmost side of Moon Pool. Since I was already here, I might as well go look. At least the fireworks were innocent. But there were too many people. I was pushed to the very front by the crowd. I finally saw Hector. He was in the best position, deeply embracing Layla. The fireworks were already blooming gloriously in the night sky, one after another. I listened to the explosions going off beside my ears. I also heard Hector’s deep confession to Layla against the background of boiling crowds mixed with fireworks. A reporter held a microphone to Layla’s face and asked her: “Miss, what is your answer?” Hector gently held Layla’s shoulder, looking at her with anticipation all over his face. Layla shyly took the microphone and had just opened her mouth when my eyes met Hector’s. Hector’s whole body stiffened, and he involuntarily said: “Nora…” At that moment, the entire Moon Pool fell silent. Even the sound of fireworks became insignificant. Everyone was focused on what he’d said and on me, whom he was looking at. Layla narrowed those charming peach-blossom eyes, looked me up and down, raised an eyebrow, and asked Hector: “Darling, who is this?” Hector’s jawline tightened. He obviously hadn’t expected to run into me on this occasion. He awkwardly licked his lips, pondering how to salvage the situation. I smiled and, under everyone’s probing gazes, answered: “My name is Nora. I’m Hector’s…” Hector tensed up, trying to stop me, but what I said was: “Distant cousin.” As soon as the words fell, my fingers clutching my palm also relaxed slightly. “My mom asked me to help him check if his future partner is handsome. Did I scare you all?” Hector’s expression finally relaxed, and he nodded at me with satisfaction. He never wanted me to reveal my identity in public, and his mother naturally felt the same way. So every time I went out with his mother, she had me call her directly by name. This name I’d been calling for five years was the best excuse prepared for just this moment. The fireworks show had to continue, and no one paid attention to me anymore. The weather didn’t cooperate—it suddenly started pouring rain. Thunder and lightning flashed in the sky. Hector hastily dispersed the crowd and carefully escorted Layla to the car. Leaving me standing there alone. The rain was bone-chilling, yet I felt numb. Probably because these five years of marriage had long since made me accustomed to it.

I went home and took a hot shower. When I came out, I ran into Hector in the living room. He hesitated for a moment, then actually thanked me: “But thank you for helping me out of that situation.” “We… after all, our marriage is secret. If I’d said it right there, it would’ve been bad for Layla’s image.” “Later… I’ll find a chance to make our relationship public.” I didn’t remind him that we wouldn’t need to make our relationship public anymore. This marriage was coming to an end. It might as well never have existed. Better for both him and me. He suddenly remembered to care about me: “But how did you end up there?” I smiled and stared at him for a long time without speaking. Not until his eyes became evasive did I say: “Connor told me to go.” Only then did he remember that today’s fireworks show was originally what he’d promised me. But he’d been too sweet with Layla and had completely forgotten about it. “Sorry. Next week… no, next week won’t work. I have to handle a Rogue attack at the pack border. Next month then. I’ll definitely take you.” I shook my head. “We’ll see when the time comes.” Hector was satisfied with my understanding and gently hugged me. Never before had I felt a man’s embrace so cold. After that day, Hector did go on a business trip. Except he took Layla with him on the business trip. Outside of work, they had candlelight dinners together and visited the werewolf museum. They went to eat at the specialty seafood night market he’d never been willing to take me to. He’d told me: “I’m an Alpha after all. Going to eat that kind of thing—how undignified.” But in front of Layla, Hector had no status. He was just an ordinary man deeply in love with her. Countdown: three days. Hector finally came back. In the half month he’d been away on business, I hadn’t contacted him even once. Looking at the spotless villa, as if he’d suddenly discovered what I’d contributed over five years of marriage, he said to me: “Nora, you’ve worked hard.” After five years, I couldn’t remember the last time he’d called me that. “I was planning to take you to see fireworks the day after tomorrow, but fireworks are currently banned…” I could hear that he just didn’t want to take me to see fireworks anymore. Layla had probably said something to him. “Then forget it.” Hector froze, as if he hadn’t expected me to actually just let it go like that. “You… don’t mind?” If it were in the past, I would’ve already gone crazy accusing him. Why could he never keep the promises he made to me? But now, I no longer cared about those false promises of his. “It’s just fireworks. It’s fine not to see them.” Just like Hector—actually, I could do without him too. After a long silence, Hector spoke again. “Then the day after tomorrow, I’ll go with you to see that villa in the western suburbs.” “The flowers nearby are beautiful. We can admire them there.” I looked at my phone. The calendar told me that the day after tomorrow was Layla’s birthday. I only remembered because last year Hector had spent the entire day with Layla on that date. I’d felt unwell and went to the hospital, called him countless times, but he didn’t answer a single one. On such an important day, would he come see me? He was just putting me off. “That day, don’t you need to accompany Layla?” Hector’s expression stiffened for a moment. He said: “I’ve been with her so long. I should spend time with you too.” After saying this, he seemed to feel the words sounded too absurd and guiltily lowered his head. But I didn’t expose his lie. I just went along with him and played along. As it happened, that day was when I’d scheduled the witch to dissolve the mate bond. Very meaningful indeed.

Countdown: one day. These past two days, Hector hadn’t appeared. He’d been with Layla the whole time, probably to appease her. But every night, he’d share some trivial things with me. Entertainment gossip, stray cats he saw on the roadside, funny posts on social media. We were like an ordinary couple separated by distance, casually chatting about boring daily matters. But in five years of marriage, Hector and I had never shared anything about our daily lives. I didn’t understand why he was suddenly doing this, and I didn’t want to understand. In these three days, I’d been busy moving, packing my things bit by bit and shipping them to Ashclaw pack. I’d also negotiated rental contracts with a real estate agency to rent out all one hundred properties under my name. These actions eventually alerted him. That night, he called and asked me: “Connor said you’re moving things?” I answered casually: “Yeah, didn’t you say we were going to the western suburbs? I like it there.” Hector paused, then said to me: “If we set off fireworks hiding in the western suburbs, it should be fine.” I shook my head with a joking tone: “No need. Be careful or you’ll get arrested.” The man relaxed a bit. “Then tomorrow night, just wait for me directly in the western suburbs.” I hummed in acknowledgment. A message popped up on my phone—flight ticket purchase successful. But Hector seemed to suddenly sense something and repeated: “You must wait for me.” I promised him: “Okay.” But the next night, he still didn’t come. Connor apologetically told me that Hector had a meeting and would be a bit late. But on social media, Layla was admiring flowers in the park in the western suburbs, and Hector was right there with her. I glanced at the time. My flight would take off in four hours. I probably wouldn’t have the chance to tell him this news in person. Countdown: three hours. I lay on the bed. The witch was beside me preparing the ritual needed to dissolve the mate bond. Soon, the ritual began. Something seemed to be pulled from my body. Covered in cold sweat, while feeling the pain, I thought of Hector’s promise to me yesterday and couldn’t help laughing. If he knew this was the last time I’d wait for him to fulfill his promise, would he immediately come back to see me? On the ceiling, the villa’s luxurious chandelier cast light down on me. I looked at this room—this was his compensation for hurting me the hundredth time. Leaving here had meaning too. Countdown ended. The witch completed her ritual as promised. The witch revealed a smile: “Congratulations, Nora. The mate bond has been dissolved.” I closed my eyes and felt the invisible shackle inside me finally shatter. That vague pull, the pain, the uncontrollable sense of belonging—all dissipated. At this point, my marriage was completely over. I picked up my suitcase, ready to leave. The highway to the airport was a bit congested. I sat in the car and happened to look over to see Hector hurriedly driving toward the western suburbs. I lowered my head, realizing this brief passing would be forever. But Hector suddenly stopped his car and looked in my direction…

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My younger sister Ella and I liked the same person for ten years. Ethan White said he liked gentle and considerate girls. Ella was a natural at acting cute. I couldn’t pull it off. Whenever the three of us were together, he only talked to Ella. I sat beside them like a telephone pole. On college graduation day, he and Ella got their marriage license. I left in a huff. Went abroad, got an MBA with a full scholarship. Hustled for four years building a startup. By year six, the company went public. Recently I heard Ethan White’s cash flow had dried up. He’s been begging people everywhere for investment, and posted on Instagram: “Meeting a major investor tomorrow, wish me luck!” Ella commented below: Honey, you’ve got this! You’re the best! I looked at the schedule my secretary sent for tomorrow. 9:30 AM, meeting with a small company CEO about financing. The name column read— Ethan White. My mom called begging me: “Jenna, Ethan White can barely hold on, you have to help.” “Help with what?” “His company’s in trouble, looking for investors everywhere. You studied abroad all those years, you must know people in this business, right? Help make a connection.” Mom said this casually, like she was asking what to cook for dinner. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Don’t just ‘see.’ Ella’s anxious. And you—over thirty and still not married, what’s the point of building such a big career? Look at your sister, what a great marriage she has.” “You’ve been drifting around abroad for six years, not even coming home for holidays. After Ella married Ethan, she’s been taking care of me and your father constantly. What have you ever done?” “But when Dad had surgery that year, I paid all the hospital bills.” “So what, you transferred money and that makes you great? Two hundred thousand to buy yourself peace of mind? Where were you when your sister stayed in the hospital room for seven days and nights? Abroad making your money!” I didn’t respond. “You know what, you’ve been competitive since you were little. Always comparing yourself to Ella. What did you end up with? Ella married a good man. And you? Over thirty, alone abroad, not even someone who cares about you.” I looked at Ethan White’s name on the schedule, my finger lightly swiping across the screen. “Mom, it’s almost midnight.” “Fine, fine, you’re busy. You’re always busy.” Mom’s voice lowered a bit. “Your sister wants you to help find out what kind of person the investor Ethan’s meeting tomorrow is, so he can prepare.” The investor is me. “Okay, I’ll ask around.” After hanging up, a Snapchat message popped up. Ella’s voice message. Thirty-six seconds. She always sent voice messages, never typed. “Jenna, Mom told you, right? Ethan’s under so much pressure lately, he can’t sleep every night. You’ve been abroad so long, you must know lots of people in investment, right? Help us ask around.” She paused. “Oh, what is it you do again? Internet or something? I can’t quite remember.” Thirty-six seconds and she couldn’t even remember what I do. The news coverage of the IPO included my full name. She wouldn’t search for it. The family group chat was buzzing too. Mom: [Ethan has an important meeting tomorrow, let’s all cheer him on, hope he secures the investment!] Dad responded with a thumbs up. Ella: [Honey’s the best! He can definitely do it!] Twenty-something messages scrolled by, not one related to me. Six years. I only read messages in this group, never replied. I used to try. The day I closed Series A funding, I sent: Got Series A. No one asked what Series A was. Ella replied: [Jenna, you’re still working on that little project? Keep it up.] After that I stopped posting. Secretary Amy’s call came through. “Miss Harris, tomorrow’s 9:30 client’s assistant called to confirm the time. Materials are ready, should I send them now?” “Just leave them on the desk.” “Okay. Also—the assistant seemed pretty anxious, asking if they could meet ten minutes earlier.” “Tell them to wait in the reception room when they arrive. Time stays the same.” “Understood, Miss Harris. Anything else we need to prepare?” “No preparation needed. Just follow the standard financing consultation procedure.”

“Jenna, why aren’t you replying to my messages?” At seven in the morning, Ella’s second voice message exploded into my phone. Forty-two seconds. “Jenna, Ethan didn’t sleep well again last night, I’m so worried for him. I know you’re busy, you have your own things to handle. But if Ethan can’t close this deal—we might have to mortgage the house. Our daughter’s kindergarten fees next semester—” Her voice choked up here. House, daughter, tuition. Each keyword precisely stabbing at the two words “family obligation.” Ten years. She used sweetness and cuteness on Ethan White, used misery and pressure on me. Sweet and miserable were her only two frequencies. I didn’t reply. On the drive to the office, my phone rang again. Caller ID: Claire Smith. College roommate, hadn’t been in touch for over four years. “Jenna? Long time no see! Heard you’re back in the country?” “Why’d you think to reach out?” “Ha, your sister mentioned you at a dinner party a few days ago—” “What did she say?” “She said you went abroad because of a broken heart. That you liked her husband Ethan White for ten years, couldn’t win him over, and left for abroad in a fit.” My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Everyone was feeling for you, how hard these years abroad must have been. Your sister even said you’re still not married, probably still can’t let go.” “Her eyes were red, weren’t they?” “How did you know? Yes! She said the person she feels most sorry for in this life is you. But she also said—she said you’ve been stubborn since childhood, competing with her over everything, even studying abroad was to prove you’re better than her. She said she actually feels bad for you.” Claire’s laugh was light. But every word was like a soft knife. Ella used the most pitiful posture to write my character for me—a pathetic older sister who failed at chasing a man, left abroad in a huff, worked desperately to prove herself, and still couldn’t get married in her thirties. Six years. Rang the bell at the New York Stock Exchange, market cap nearly ten billion, over five hundred employees globally. In her mouth, it all amounted to nothing more than “heartbroken woman who ran away and can’t get married.” “What else did she say?” “Said you cried at the airport that day, so heartbreaking—” “I cried at the airport?” “Yeah, she—” “Claire.” “Hm?” “My flight abroad was at 4 AM. I took a cab to the airport by myself. No one saw me off, no one knew what time I left.” Silence on the other end for two seconds. “Including Ella. She didn’t even know what day I departed, how would she know if I cried or not?” Claire went quiet. After a while she asked softly: “So these past few years—” “Pretty good. The company’s been busy.” “Your sister said you opened a small online shop abroad—” “Not a shop.” I didn’t explain further. “Claire, anything else? I’ve arrived at the office.” “Oh, okay, then let’s meet up sometime? Your sister said she’s always wanted to—” “No thanks. Busy lately.” I hung up. The car pulled into the underground garage. Engine off. She cried at the airport. She went abroad because of a broken heart. She still can’t let go. This narrative—how many people had Ella told? At how many dinner parties, with that red-eyed pitiful look, did she reduce my six years to a single sentence about running away? My phone vibrated. Family group chat. Ella: [Jenna’s been back in the country recently but won’t reach out to me. Is she still mad at me…] Mom: [That’s just how she is, don’t mind her. If she won’t help Ethan, forget it.] Dad: [Stop talking about it, the most important thing today is Ethan’s matter.] Every message defaulted to Ella’s version. I was the petty, grudge-holding, unmarriageable older sister. She was forever the kind yet heartbroken little sister. The elevator arrived. Amy stood at the corridor entrance. “Good morning, Miss Harris. Starlight Tech’s preliminary screening—the investment department added a few attachments, do you want to see them now?” “Bring them in.” “9:30 meeting time stays the same?” “Same.” “How should we approach it?” I walked into the office. “Follow the rules. Who he is doesn’t matter. The project speaks for itself.”

“Jenna, are you there?” 7:23 AM. Ethan White’s Snapchat message appeared on my phone. In six years, this was the first time he’d messaged me. Not to ask how I was. Not to say long time no see. To ask for help. “I’m meeting an investor this morning at 9:30, a company called Summit Holdings. You’ve been abroad so many years, do you know anyone there? Help me get some intel on what kind of person their CEO is.” I looked at this message. Ten seconds later, another one. “Ella said you did something with investment banking? Then you must understand this circle a bit. Help me ask around, this is really important to me.” Investment banking. That’s how Ella introduced me to him. He didn’t even know what I did. That “investor” was my company. That “CEO” was me. But he didn’t know. No one told him. Just like no one ever cared. I didn’t reply. Another message popped up. “Jenna? Did you see my message?” Then: “I know you might still care about what happened before. But that’s all in the past. Help me with this, for Ella’s sake.” Care about what happened before. He thought I wasn’t replying because I still resented him for marrying Ella. Not because I had over forty emails waiting to be processed first thing in the morning. He thought my world still revolved around him. I shut off my phone and walked into the company. By the time I sat at my desk, Amy had already organized the day’s schedule. “Miss Harris, I went through Starlight Tech’s due diligence attachments. The investment department has a finding.” “Go ahead.” “Their core product LINKER’s underlying conceptual framework highly matches the paper you published in the school journal in 2016. Keyword overlap exceeds seventy percent.” “I know.” “The investment department initially thought it was a related party project and specifically came to confirm with me. Your name isn’t in any of Starlight’s documents.” “Of course not.” Amy hesitated. “If we need to go through intellectual property procedures—” “We don’t.” “But Miss Harris—” “If a concept only stays in a notebook, it’s nothing. He at least took it and did something with it. Whether he succeeded is another matter.” Amy pressed her lips together. I finished flipping through his business plan. Four product lines, not one viable. Technical team configuration unbalanced. Customer acquisition cost model still using data from three years ago. My phone lit up again. Family group chat. Ella: [Honey’s already left! Everyone pray for him] Right after, she private messaged me: “Ethan said you didn’t reply to his message. Can you just help me this once? He’s really nervous.” Then an eight-second voice message: “Is your phone dead? Did you even see it or not?” I closed Snapchat. 8:50 AM. Amy poked her head through the door. “Miss Harris, Mr. White from Starlight Tech arrived at reception. He’s forty minutes early. Should we arrange for him to go to the meeting room?” “Arrange it. One glass of water.” “Okay.” She walked out two steps then turned back. “The receptionist said—after he arrived he made a phone call, not quietly.” “What did he say?” “He told whoever was on the phone: ‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen plenty of investment companies this size, today’s just going through the motions.’” Summit Holdings, last year’s assets under management: twenty-six billion. In his mouth, we were just going through the motions. “Amy.” “Yes.” “Notify him at 9:30 sharp. Not a minute earlier.”

“It’s 9:28, Miss Harris.” Amy gently reminded from outside the door. I closed the report I was halfway through reviewing. My phone lit up on the desk. Ella’s voice message. Fifteen seconds. “Ethan said he messaged you and you didn’t reply. Are you doing this on purpose? This meeting is really important for him today. If you won’t help, fine, but don’t drag him down.” A pause. Her tone switched frequencies. “I’m telling you, Jenna, if Ethan’s meeting falls through today, I’m telling Mom and Dad it’s because of you. You’re taking out your frustration about not getting married on us—when will you ever grow up?” Fifteen seconds to say all that without breathing. With outsiders she draws out every word coyly. With me every word stabs without gaps. Mom’s call came right after. “Jenna, are you fighting with Ella again?” “No.” “Then why won’t you help Ethan? It’s a ten-minute thing and you’re making excuses.” “Mom, I’m at work—” “What’s so important about that little company of yours? Ethan’s matter is serious business, can’t you tell what’s important?” “Mom—” “Don’t Mom me! I’m telling you, Jenna, if you won’t even help with this little thing, don’t come back to this house. You ran off after college graduation, you weren’t there when your dad had surgery, you didn’t come to your sister’s wedding. Six years. Have you done one thing for this family?” I leaned back in my chair. Outside the window the September sunlight was blindingly white. “You’ve been competitive since you were little, always comparing yourself to your sister. What for? You’ve worked yourself to death, what’s the point?” From far away on the other end—Ella’s voice: “Mom, stop, she has her reasons.” Mom sighed. “Fine, don’t help then. You never cared about this family anyway.” Beep— She hung up. I placed my phone on the desk. My fingertips felt nothing. Not pain, just gripped too tight. The day I rang the bell at the NYSE, I stood on the platform watching colorful confetti fall, hundreds of people applauding below. The lights were scorching. In that moment what I thought wasn’t about success. It was: if only Mom could see this. Later I sent that video to the family group chat. No one replied. Two hours later Ella sent: [Did you go traveling? Looks so fancy.] Then the group started discussing what color Ethan White’s new car was. “Miss Harris.” Amy’s voice came from the doorway. “It’s 9:30 sharp. Mr. White has been waiting in the meeting room for ten minutes. Should I bring him over now?” I opened my eyes. Sat up straight. Materials spread on the desk in front of me. Debt ratio, cash flow, product progress, thirty million in financing—every data point in my hands. “Bring him in.” Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Leather shoes hitting the floor with steady, confident rhythm. Amy’s voice arrived first: “Mr. White, this way please.” The door pushed open. Ethan White stood in the doorway. Sharp suit, business plan bound and held in his hands. A practiced smile on his lips, the standard expression for meeting unfamiliar investors. He looked up. His gaze swept across the office, across the floor-to-ceiling windows. Landed on my face. The smile disappeared. The document slipped an inch between his fingers. His lips moved, his voice like something was blocking it. “…Jenna? Jenna Harris?” I looked into his eyes. From this end of the desk to that end, less than two meters. Ten years ago when three people sat together, his gaze never lingered on me. “Mr. White, please sit.”

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“You’ll regret this. The hundredth time, you’ll truly regret it.” When I said those words, there was still a flicker of light left in my eyes. I was the orphan of the Moon’s Edge Pack’s bravest warrior. The fated mate of the Alpha heir. The most beloved sister of the Protector leader. I should have had the strongest foundation in this world. But then an omega named Jasmine appeared. And everything collapsed. The credit for saving them was stolen. She staged her own framing. Leo and Ethan—every time, they chose to believe Jasmine. My hair was cut off. I was humiliated in public. I counted in my heart. From one to ninety-nine. In the Darkmoon Forest, I lay in a pool of blood. No one looked back. The hundredth time. I died. When the truth finally came to light, when a strange she-wolf named Nera appeared before them with absolute dominance. It was already too late. Casey POV In the Dark Moon Forest, towering pines blocked out the sunlight, creating a solemn and sacred atmosphere. I placed the wildflowers I’d picked before the memorial altar where my parents’ ashes had been scattered, feeling warmth rise in my eyes. My parents were the Moon’s Edge Pack’s bravest warriors, both killed in battle during a Rogue attack. From that moment on, I vowed to carry on their legacy and become the strongest female warrior in the pack. I touched the acceptance letter in my pocket from North America’s top werewolf training camp, finally feeling a weight lift from my heart. “Dad, Mom, I did it. I’ll carry on your honor.” I whispered to the wind. I’d worked so hard to get into that elite-only training camp. But I had to keep it a secret from my brother and Ethan. When I got back to the Pack house, the living room, usually so quiet, felt unusually tense. My brother Leo, the pack’s border patrol leader, and my mate Ethan, heir to the Moon’s Edge Pack Alpha. Both sat on the couch with dark expressions. Meanwhile, Jasmin stood to the side with her hair cut into a jagged, uneven mess, sobbing pitifully. “Alpha, Leo, don’t blame Casey. I know she didn’t mean to cut my hair like this. It’s all my fault for making her angry.” Jasmin looked utterly aggrieved, tears streaming down her face as she made her accusation. Hearing this, the fury in Ethan’s deep eyes intensified. “You don’t need to make excuses for her. Leo and I know her spoiled temper better than anyone!” “I’ve been too lenient with her! Don’t worry, Jasmin, we’ll get you justice today.” Leo chimed in, then turned his cold gaze on me with a stern tone. “Casey, look at what you’ve done! Apologize to Jasmin right now!” Seeing the flash of triumph in Jasmin’s eyes as she lowered her head, I kept my face expressionless and said nothing. I’d been training near the Dark Moon Forest these past few days and hadn’t even seen Jasmin. How could I have cut her hair? This was just another one of her self-staged frame-ups. But I didn’t explain. Because I knew that no matter how clumsy the lie, as long as it came from Jasmin’s mouth, Leo and Ethan would believe it without question. Seeing my lack of response, Leo’s anger grew. “You’ve really become lawless! Ethan, hold her down!” I looked at them in disbelief. Before I could react, Ethan had already strode forward, clamping down on my arms and pinning me in place. And Leo picked up a pair of sharp scissors and mercilessly grabbed my waist-length hair, cutting it off with a “snip.” Watching the strands of black hair fall, my heart suddenly ached. I remembered when I was little, how Leo would clumsily braid my hair with a comb. I remembered at my eighteenth birthday Mating Ball, how Ethan had gently stroked my long hair. He had loved it. Since my parents’ sacrifice, they had been the only support in my world. Until that brutal Rogue attack a year ago, when I fought desperately to drag their wounded bodies to safety, only to collapse from exhaustion myself. When I woke up, this Omega named Jasmin had stolen credit for my actions and become their “savior.” After that, everything changed. They pampered Jasmin endlessly, and despite me being Ethan’s Mate, they trampled me underfoot for her sake time and time again. My waist-length hair was completely cut away. Ethan released his grip, and Leo threw down the scissors. They immediately turned to comfort the frightened Jasmin, taking her to the dining room. From beginning to end, they never looked at me again. I stared at the hair scattered on the floor and laughed bitterly. It didn’t matter. I was about to enter the training camp anyway. Short hair would actually be more practical and convenient for training. The next morning when I opened my door, I found Leo and Ethan waiting outside. “Casey, you need to stop throwing these tantrums. Jasmin is our savior. You need to treat her well.” Leo said coldly. Ethan echoed him. “You know you’re my Mate. I’m only good to her to repay a debt. Don’t be jealous over something so pointless.” I’d heard these words so many times over the past year that I was sick of them. “95.” The two exchanged glances and said in unison. “What 95?” I looked at them quietly, my voice as flat and lifeless as stagnant water. “Leo, Ethan, this is the 95th time you’ve hurt me for Jasmin’s sake. By the 100th time, you’ll regret it completely!”

Casey POV Their faces instantly darkened. Ethan frowned. “Casey, don’t make such ridiculous jokes.” “I’m not joking.” Ethan was about to press further when suddenly his expression changed. A faint Mind-link came through the air. It was Jasmin. “Ethan, Leo… I can’t take this humiliation anymore. Since Casey can’t stand having me here, I’m leaving the Pack right now…” Jasmin’s tearful voice rang out. Hearing this, both men instantly panicked. Without a word of explanation to me, they immediately turned and rushed out like madmen. Watching their hastily disappearing backs, I smiled self-deprecatingly, turned around, and went back to my room to calmly pack my things. I didn’t keep a single gift that Ethan and Leo had given me. I threw them all in the trash. That evening, Ethan and Leo returned with Jasmin. The moment they saw me, they both scowled and started scolding. “Casey! Why did you send people to trash Jasmin’s room? You drove her to the point of wanting to leave the territory! If we hadn’t caught up with her in time, she really would have left!” Looking at their righteous indignation, all I felt was deep exhaustion. I didn’t even bother asking how Jasmin had staged the scene this time. My silence was taken as admission in their eyes. Leo held back his anger and said coldly, “Jasmin’s room is uninhabitable because of what you did, so she needs to stay with us for a while. Since you caused this mess, give your room to Jasmin.” I glanced at him. Too tired to argue, I simply tossed the room key on the table. I was leaving soon anyway. It didn’t matter where I stayed. Then Ethan frowned and added, “Also, Jasmin is allergic to pollen, so I’m having the rose garden in your yard completely removed.” My heart stabbed with pain. That rose garden was my mother’s favorite flower when she was alive. She had tended it herself. It was the only memento she’d left me! I stared hard at Ethan, but all I saw in his eyes was favoritism toward Jasmin. Soon, several lower-ranking wolves came with tools and headed to the backyard. I stood by the window, numbly watching as those beautiful roses were uprooted and crushed into the soil. Eventually I moved alone into the guest room next door. Looking at the empty room, I felt strangely relieved. Good. The traces of Casey should have been cleared away anyway. Late at night, a knock on the door broke the silence. I opened it to find Jasmin. She wore a wolf fang necklace around her neck and showed it off to me with a smug expression. “Casey, look! Leo gave me this today. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?” My pupils constricted sharply. That necklace was the last memento my parents had left us! Leo had actually given it to some outsider Omega?! “Give it back! You don’t deserve to wear it!” I instinctively reached out to snatch the necklace back. Seeing me make a move, a triumphant smile appeared on Jasmin’s face. She deliberately took a step backward, then spread her arms and fell straight down the staircase. “Ahh!” Her scream immediately alarmed Leo and Ethan in the study. Both men rushed out. Seeing Jasmin lying motionless at the bottom of the stairs with blood covering her forehead, they paled in fear. “Jasmin!” Ethan raced downstairs and pulled her into his arms. Leo charged up and grabbed my wrist, demanding harshly, “I knew your obedience during the day was an act! The moment our backs are turned, you find ways to bully her! Casey, you’ve disappointed me so much!” Jasmin leaned against Ethan, breathing weakly. “Ethan, it hurts so much… I feel like I’m dying…” “Casey, use your healing power to save her now!” Ethan turned and roared at me. I possessed a rare healing ability among wolves, but each use consumed a great deal of my life force. I gritted my teeth and violently shook off Leo’s hand. “I won’t! She staged that fall herself!” The two men were furious. Leo snatched the necklace from Jasmin’s neck and held it high, his eyes blood-red as he threatened, “Casey, you won’t do it? Then I’ll smash this necklace as compensation to Jasmin!” Ethan released suffocating Alpha pressure and glared at me through clenched teeth. “If you dare let anything happen to her, I’ll reject you!” I looked at these two men I had once cared about most, threatening me with my parents’ memento for the sake of a lying she-wolf. My chest felt stuffed with grief that couldn’t be released, hurting so much I felt ready to explode. I stared at Leo, my voice choking. “So Mom and Dad’s memento… you really gave it to her?” Then I looked at Ethan, my eyes frighteningly red. “So in your heart, I’m not even worth as much as some outsider Omega?” Both men froze. Before they could speak, I snatched the necklace from Leo’s hand and said slowly, enunciating every word. “Remember this. This is the 96th time.”

Casey POV In the end, I walked over to Jasmin and placed my hand over her wound. Brilliant white light flared. I was forced to expend massive amounts of healing power until my vision blurred and I finally collapsed from exhaustion. The next day, I woke up in a hospital bed at the pack hospital. No one was by my side. I dragged my weakened body out of the hospital. Just as I reached the entrance, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Jasmin. “How does it feel to be falsely accused with no way to explain yourself? Casey, you can’t win against me!” “See? With just one word from me, Leo and Ethan won’t take your side. You must be so upset, right? Don’t worry, I’ve prepared a surprise for you. Make sure to check it out.” A surprise? Remembering all the tricks and frame-ups she’d orchestrated before, I sneered and put my phone away. As I was about to cross the street, a black SUV suddenly came racing toward me like it had gone mad! BANG! The violent impact sent me flying. Because I was too weak from overusing my healing power, I couldn’t call on my wolf in time. I crashed heavily to the ground. Blood blurred my vision. Pain tore through every part of my body. My consciousness grew hazy. Through the fog, I felt pack guards carrying me to an operating room. Voices clamored around me. “That Jasmin woman woke up yesterday and is perfectly fine, but she keeps saying this hurts and that hurts. Alpha Ethan called all the surgeons over to examine her! Now there’s not even a doctor available to operate on Casey! What are we supposed to do?” “Go ask quickly if they can spare one doctor for the surgery!” Ten minutes later, someone came running back, their tone full of helplessness. “They refused! They insist we send her to a human hospital, and they’ll cover the costs!” “A human hospital?! She’s so badly injured and her healing ability is suppressed. How can she possibly survive the trip to a human hospital?!” Chaotic arguing filled my ears, but I couldn’t make out anything clearly. In a daze, I seemed to see the past. Back then, when I got even a minor injury during training, Leo would worry endlessly. Ethan would stay by my side constantly, using his Alpha pheromones to comfort me. But that was all a long, long time ago. Now there was no one by my side. My eyelids felt heavy as lead. My will gradually faded. Before losing consciousness completely, “The… the 97th time…” When I woke again, I saw two faces full of guilt. Leo tucked the blanket around me, his tone apologetic. “Casey, I’m sorry. We didn’t know it was you who got into the accident.” Ethan brought over a cup of hot water to feed me. “You were fine when you left. How did you get hit?” Remembering the messages I’d received before the accident, I looked away, my voice hoarse. “Ask Jasmin.” The expressions on both Leo and Ethan’s faces froze, instantly turning dark. “Casey, why are you still trying to frame Jasmin? She’s a fragile Omega. How could she possibly plan something like this?” “Exactly! Jasmin is still lying in the hospital. How would she have time to hurt you!” Seeing their absolute certainty, I didn’t want to waste more words. “I’m tired. Get out.” The two men, who had more to say, finally held back after seeing my pale face. Leo and Ethan left the room one after the other. A few minutes later, my phone on the table rang. “Casey, this is the instructor from the werewolf training camp. Can you report on schedule in one week?” “Yes, I can leave anytime…” Before I finished speaking, the door was pushed open. Leo and Ethan walked in with furrowed brows, looking suspicious. “What do you mean ‘leave’? Where are you going?” I calmly hung up the phone. “I was asking about discharge. Why are you back?” Ethan was about to press further when a nurse burst in urgently. “Alpha Ethan, Leo, Miss Jasmin just threw up…” Watching them leave in a hurry, I smiled silently and bitterly.

Casey POV Over the next few days, Leo and Ethan rarely appeared. Even when they occasionally came by, they’d only sit for a moment before finding an excuse to leave. I knew they were constantly attending to Jasmin. Because every day, Jasmin sent me photos and videos. Leo would hunt game himself just to make her meat soup. Ethan bought her all kinds of gifts. Jewelry meant to please her filled half her hospital room. I never replied once. I left the hospital without telling anyone. As I reached the border of the territory, several Rogues with glowing green eyes suddenly leapt out from behind me. Because I’d overused my healing power earlier and my body hadn’t fully recovered, I couldn’t shift into wolf form at all. I struggled desperately but was knocked unconscious. I don’t know how long passed. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Jasmin, also tied up. When the Rogues weren’t paying attention, Jasmin looked over with an arrogant expression and whispered. “Good, you’re awake. These Rogues have already sent a message to Leo and Ethan saying you and I were both kidnapped. Casey, guess what? When they have to choose, who will matter most to them?” I looked coldly at Jasmin, wanting to ask why she kept repeating these boring games. In the end, I ignored her. A few minutes later, the car door opened. I was standing by a river with rushing currents. Several SUVs came speeding from the distance. After Leo and Ethan got out, Jasmin immediately put on a pitiful expression, tears streaming down her face. The Rogue leader immediately pressed his claws against mine and Jasmin’s throats. Leo’s face darkened. “Whatever conditions you want, name them and let them go!” The Rogue leader snorted coldly. “We want you to give up that eastern territory! And as an exchange, you can only take one person today! Choose!” I watched as both men’s faces turned extremely ugly. Leo was furious but didn’t dare provoke them rashly. He could only suppress his anger to negotiate. “Let them go, and we can discuss the other conditions!” “You can only take one! Choose quickly, or I’ll bite through their throats!” Jasmin cried even more heart-wrenchingly, struggling constantly. The Rogues removed her gag. “Leo, Ethan, save me! I’m so scared! I don’t want to die!” Watching this tearful performance, my expression remained calm throughout. Seeing they still wouldn’t agree, the Rogues even started a countdown. Both men looked conflicted, their eyes constantly shifting between Jasmin and me. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…” By the count of “five,” when Jasmin and I were about to be pushed into the river, Jasmin let out a scream. Leo finally lost his composure and shouted, “Save Jasmin first! She saved our lives. Casey, trust me, I can definitely save you.” Ethan also stated his position. “Jasmin is just a fragile Omega. She can’t withstand this. Casey, you’re a warrior’s daughter. Don’t worry, we’ll come for you right away.” From the moment they hesitated, I’d already predicted this outcome. But hearing them say it out loud now, I felt the last thread of hope in my heart completely severed. I couldn’t help but laugh. After the choice was made, Jasmin was pulled back. And I was pushed off the high bridge. I watched Leo and Ethan run desperately toward Jasmin and closed my eyes in despair. The cold wind cut my skin like knives. There was no blood, but it still felt like being tortured. Dense pain invaded every corner of my body, making me wish for death. In an instant, many images flashed through my mind. Leo, holding me and crying when our parents died, swearing he would always protect me. Ethan, at the Mating Ball when we found out we were Mates. His eyes reddening as he promised to love me. This was how we parted ways. The icy river water dragged my body downward. I grew faint. My strength slipped away…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “393231”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I loved Gavin for ten years, only for him to announce his engagement to his mistress, Serena. On the day of their engagement, they locked me in the basement. Gavin even locked the iron door himself, coldly tossing out a single sentence through the metal: “Don’t let her out until the engagement party is over.” Curled up on the freezing floor, I listened to the cheers and applause drifting down from the banquet hall upstairs. My crippled right hand spasmed violently, the pain so intense it eventually went numb. When the door finally opened again, they dragged me out and threw me into the pouring rain. I staggered forward on numb legs, walking aimlessly through the storm. Until a man stopped in front of me, holding an umbrella over my head. Dominic handed me a marriage agreement. “Marry me. I can save your father, heal your hand, and help you take back everything that belongs to you.” I signed the contract. Later, when the bankrupt Gavin saw me again, he rushed toward me like a madman, demanding to know why. Dominic wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me right in front of him. “Because now,” he said, his voice icy cold, “she’s my wife.”

Lila’s POV When Gavin announced his engagement to Serena, the whole city was stunned. The yacht party doubled as Hartwell Group’s annual couture show. It was the height of extravagance. Everyone envied Serena. She wasn’t just marrying the Hartwell heir. Tonight, she was also debuting as lead designer. Her gown, “First Love.” The dress of the century. Under the spotlight, Serena wore that gown with nine hundred and ninety-nine diamonds. She leaned into Gavin’s arms, smiling with an innocent, angelic look. Under the spotlight, Serena wore that gown embedded with nine hundred and ninety-nine diamonds. She nestled in Gavin’s arms, smiling with an innocent, angelic look. And I stood in the darkest corner of the ballroom, watching it all in silence. That “First Love” gown was something I’d stayed up countless nights to make. My right hand ached so much I couldn’t hold a fork. But I sewed every stitch. By hand. The hidden pattern on the hem was my mother’s favorite design from when she was alive. Gavin once said it was a signature that belonged only to me. But now, he’d put my work on another woman, making it a symbol of their love. “Miss Sterling.” Gavin’s chief assistant, Aaron, walked up to me and handed me a paper bag. “Mr. Hartwell said this is what you asked for.” I took the bag and opened it. Inside was an old fashion design notebook, my mother’s keepsake. And a check for fifty million dollars. “Mr. Hartwell also said that after tonight, you two have no relationship anymore.” Aaron’s eyes held a trace of haughty pity. “Mr. Hartwell hopes you won’t appear in front of Miss Vale anymore to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings. After all, Miss Vale is now the chief designer of Hartwell Group.” I looked at that check and suddenly found it amusing. Three years. I’d been with Gavin for three years. I wasn’t just his mistress. I was also the “ghost designer” for his company’s design department. I’d drawn over a hundred designs for him, launched more than a dozen bestselling collections, and pushed Hartwell’s fashion empire to its peak. The price? Chronic overwork and mental stress had severely damaged the nerves in my right hand. My hand trembled just holding a pen now. I’d completely lost the possibility of becoming an independent designer. Everyone thought I loved Gavin so much that I was willing to be a mistress for money and status. Even Gavin thought so. He thought I couldn’t leave him. He thought that as long as he threw me a little reward, I’d be grateful. I pulled out that fifty-million-dollar check and, right in front of Aaron, tore it into pieces bit by bit. “Miss Sterling, what are you doing?” Aaron frowned, his tone carrying a warning. “Mr. Hartwell’s patience is limited. Don’t be willful.” “Keep this money for Miss Vale to buy candy.” I tossed the shredded paper into a nearby trash can and clutched my mother’s notebook tightly to my chest. “Tell Gavin that as he wished, we’ll never see each other again.” I turned and walked out of the ballroom without looking back. No breakdown, no tears. So calm it surprised even me. Outside the yacht, heavy rain began to fall. The cold rainwater pelted my body, yet I felt liberated. These three years, I’d endured Gavin’s mental torture just to keep my mother’s keepsake and pay for my imprisoned father’s medical treatment. He would violently take me in bed while coldly suppressing my career in daily life. “Lila, besides me, who else would want you?” “Your hand is already ruined. Without me providing you a team, you can’t even make a single piece of clothing.” “Be good and let Serena take credit for this season’s designs. She just returned. She needs this work more than you do.” He said the cruelest things in the gentlest tone. Destroying my confidence bit by bit, stripping away my pride. Turning me into worthless garbage that could only survive by clinging to him. But he didn’t know I’d never truly submitted. I was just waiting. Waiting to get my mother’s notebook. Waiting to save enough for my father’s medical bills. Now, my wait was over. I returned to the villa that had imprisoned me for three years. As quickly as possible, I packed up everything that belonged to me. Actually, there wasn’t much. Just a few old clothes and some worn books. As for all those designer bags, haute couture dresses, and expensive jewelry Gavin had given me, I didn’t take a single piece. I found a large cardboard box, packed everything into it, and left it on the living room table along with the villa key. When I left, I blocked and deleted every contact method related to Gavin from my phone. I left swiftly, without a trace of reluctance.

Lila’s POV The rain grew heavier. I dragged a cheap suitcase down the empty street. My clothes were soaked through, my body shaking from the cold, but I didn’t want to stop. I just wanted to get as far away from Gavin’s world as possible. Just then, a black Maybach slowly stopped beside me in the rain. The window lowered. Revealing a handsome face. The man wore a perfectly tailored black suit with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Behind those lenses, his eyes were deep, dark, and carried an irresistible sense of authority. Dominic Kane. Heir to New York’s most elite financial empire. Rumor had it he was a ruthless, unpredictable, heartless capitalist. I’d only met him once. It was at one of Gavin’s private cocktail parties. I attended as Gavin’s date but was left alone in a corner. Dominic saw this and handed me a glass of warm water, expressing concern. “Miss Sterling, in such heavy rain, where are you planning to go?” His voice was deep and pleasant, with a hint of leisure. I stopped and looked at him warily. “Mr. Kane, is there something you need?” The car door opened. A large black umbrella appeared over my head. Dominic’s assistant stood respectfully to the side. “Miss Sterling, Mr. Kane requests that you get in the car.” I didn’t move. I’d just escaped one cage. I didn’t want to jump into another abyss. Dominic seemed to see through my thoughts. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling on my face through the rain. “Lila, your father had a sudden heart attack in prison. He’s being rushed to the hospital right now.” “Gavin has already cut off his medical payments.” “If you go now, you’ll only see his corpse.” My brain went blank with a buzzing sound. The suitcase slipped from my hand, crashing into a puddle and splashing muddy water. “What… what did you say?” My whole body trembled, my voice shaking. “Get in.” Dominic’s tone was serious. “I’ll take you to him.” Without any hesitation, I bent down and got into the car. The cabin was heated, filled with a faint, pleasant fragrance that inexplicably brought peace of mind. Dominic handed me a clean towel. “Dry yourself off.” I took the towel and hastily wiped the rain from my face. “Mr. Kane, why are you helping me?” I stared at him, trying to find answers in his expression. I didn’t believe in random acts of kindness in this world, especially not from someone like Dominic Kane. Dominic chuckled softly. He pulled out a document from the storage compartment beside him and placed it in front of me. “I need a wife. And you happen to be suitable for the position.” I froze, looking down at the document. “Marriage Agreement.” “Why me?” I couldn’t believe it. With Dominic’s status and position, he could find any type of woman he wanted. Why would he choose someone ordinary like me, someone Gavin had discarded? “Because you’re smart enough, and strong enough.” Dominic’s slender fingers lightly tapped his knee, his gaze deep as he looked at me. “More importantly, I’ve seen your real design drafts. Gavin is a blind fool who doesn’t know how to appreciate them, but I’m not.” He leaned forward slightly, moving closer to me. His warm breath fell on my ear, carrying a hint of temptation. “Lila, marry me. I can not only save your father but also help you take back everything that belongs to you. Including healing your right hand.” My heartbeat skipped a beat. My right hand. This was my deepest pain. I looked into Dominic’s beautiful eyes, knowing I had no other choice. I picked up the pen and signed my name on the agreement. “Alright, I agree.” Dominic looked at the name on the paper, his lips curving into a satisfied arc. “Mrs. Kane, pleasure doing business with you.”

Gavin’s POV My engagement party lasted until late into the night. I’d drunk quite a bit. My head hurt. Serena leaned against me weakly, wanting to return to the villa with me. “Gavin, can I stay with you tonight?” I rubbed my temples, and Lila’s face suddenly flashed through my mind. I gently pushed Serena away. “I’m too tired tonight. Go home and rest. I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Serena was somewhat reluctant but didn’t dare disobey me. She could only nod obediently. I got in the car and instructed the driver to return to the villa. The whole way, I thought about Lila. That woman actually didn’t make a scene tonight. Usually, if I so much as glanced at another woman, she’d question me with red-rimmed eyes. Tonight I announced my engagement to Serena in front of everyone, even put the wedding dress she’d stayed up nights making on Serena, yet she didn’t shed a single tear. She even tore up the fifty-million-dollar check I gave her. Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but sneer. She just wanted to get my attention. She was becoming more and more willful. I was certain that Lila was now crying in pain at the villa. When I returned, she would definitely kneel at my feet humbly like always, begging me not to abandon her. Thinking this, my mood suddenly improved. The car pulled into the villa driveway. I pushed open the door. The living room was pitch dark, and there was no figure in pajamas coming forward with warm milk. “Lila!” I frowned and turned on the lights. In the empty living room, only a huge cardboard box sat on the coffee table. I walked over and saw clearly what was inside. All the gifts I’d given her over these three years. Jewelry, watches, haute couture dresses… On top of the box lay the villa key. My pupils contracted sharply. I rushed upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. The closet was empty, the vanity was empty, and her toiletries in the bathroom were gone too. Throughout the entire villa, there was no longer any trace of Lila. She’d left. Left decisively, without a hint of reluctance. I stood in the empty bedroom, a sudden irritation rising in my chest. I pulled out my phone and dialed Lila’s number. “Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service.” Not in service? She’d even canceled her number! I hurled my phone against the wall. The screen shattered instantly. “Fine, very good!” I laughed coldly in anger. “Lila, don’t you ever think about coming back!” I thought Lila was just acting out. I thought she needed me to survive. Her father’s hospital bills were piling up. Her right hand was useless. No other design firm would hire a cripple who couldn’t hold a pen. Only me. She had no choice but to come back and beg me. I lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. I wanted to see just how stubborn this woman could be. Within three days, she would definitely come back begging. However, three days passed. I hadn’t heard a single thing about Lila. I sent people to check the hospital, only to be told that Lila’s father had been taken away three days ago. Where her father went, who took him. No one at the hospital knew. I sat behind my large desk, my expression terrifyingly dark. Aaron stood to the side, trembling nervously. “Find her! Bring her back to me!” I violently swept the documents off the desk like an enraged lion. “Even if you have to search all of New York, find her!” I absolutely would not allow my prey to escape my control.

Lila’s POV These three days, I’d been staying at Dominic’s private estate. The environment here was beautiful with excellent scenery. Dominic arranged the best room for me, the finest chef, and an entire medical team. He hadn’t lied to me. My father was transferred to a private hospital under Dominic’s name and received the best treatment. He was now out of danger. And I was being cared for like something fragile. Dominic made time to eat with me every day. Though he didn’t say much, his every action showed tremendous respect and restraint, giving me a long-lost sense of peace. During those three years by Gavin’s side, I lived in constant fear and anxiety every day. Afraid I’d do something wrong and upset him. Afraid he’d stop my father’s medication in a fit of rage. Now, I finally didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders anymore. Dominic even built me a top-tier private studio on the estate. The fabrics, sewing equipment, and pattern-making tools inside were even more complete than Hartwell Group’s design department. “Mr. Kane, thank you.” I stood in the studio, looking at those expensive silk fabrics, my eyes getting warm. Dominic leaned against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, his gaze deep as he watched me. “Lila, have you forgotten we’re already married?” He walked over and reached out to gently wipe away the tears at the corner of my eye. The warmth of his fingertip was somewhat hot. “From now on, call me by my name.” I uncomfortably turned my head away and called softly, “Dominic.” Dominic chuckled lightly, seeming very pleased. “The doctor said your right hand’s condition is due to chronic overuse combined with excessive psychological stress causing neurological spasms. I’ve already contacted the nation’s top orthopedic and neurology experts. Next week they’ll fly here to consult on your case.” “Lila, trust me, you’ll get better. Your hand will still be able to draw the most beautiful designs in the world.” His voice was low and firm, carrying a convincing power. I looked at him and nodded hard. That afternoon, I went to the mall. I wanted to buy some daily necessities and a few sets of clothes for my father. Dominic wanted to send bodyguards with me, but I refused. I didn’t want to be monitored like a prisoner. However, I never expected to run into Serena at the mall. She was holding Gavin’s arm, browsing bags at a luxury boutique. Serena spotted me immediately. She tottered over in her heels, walking with an exaggerated sway, her face displaying a victor’s smugness. “Well, well, if it isn’t Lila? After Gavin kicked you out, you don’t even have money to buy clothes?” She looked over my simple casual outfit, her eyes full of disdain. I looked at her coldly without speaking, but my gaze fell on the ruby necklace around her neck. That was a necklace Gavin once gave me. When I left, I’d left it in the cardboard box. I never imagined Gavin would give it to Serena. How disgusting. “What are you looking at?” Serena noticed my gaze and deliberately touched the necklace at her neck. “This is the engagement gift Gavin gave me. Beautiful, isn’t it? Lila, you were with Gavin for three years, drawing all those designs for me, yet he wouldn’t give you anything. Now that I’m back, he gives me everything. You’re nothing but a clown, a cheap tool.” Her words stabbed into my heart like poisoned knives. If it were before, I might have endured it, but now, I didn’t need to endure anymore. I raised my left hand and slapped her hard across the face. The crisp sound of the slap was particularly loud in the quiet luxury boutique. Serena’s head snapped to the side. Covering her face, she stared at me in shock. “You… you dare hit me?” “I hit you. Do I need a reason?” I sneered and shook my somewhat numb hand. “Serena, stealing someone else’s work as your signature piece. Do you think your own work is that terrible?” “Lila!” A sinister, furious voice came from behind. Gavin quickly walked over and protectively pulled Serena behind him. He stared at me intently, his eyes cold as ice. “What are you freaking out about?” He grabbed my right wrist in one swift motion, his grip so tight it felt like he’d crush my bones. “Apologize to Serena!”

Lila’s POV Excruciating pain shot through my right wrist. That was my most vulnerable, most painful spot. The pain made me gasp, forcing my head back to meet Gavin’s fury-filled eyes. Three years. He was always like this. As long as Serena shed a single tear, he’d pin all the blame on me. I looked at this face I once loved deeply, now finding it only unfamiliar and repulsive. “Apologize?” I forced myself to endure the spasms in my right hand, laughing coldly, my gaze unflinchingly meeting his. “Gavin, impossible! I, Lila Sterling, will never apologize to a thief who only steals other people’s designs!” Gavin’s expression instantly darkened to the extreme. He tightened his grip even more, completely disregarding my trembling hand, glaring at me furiously. “Lila, do you think that leaving me means you can survive on your own? Do you believe that with just one word from me, your father won’t get a single pill in the hospital!” He was threatening me with my father again. This was his usual tactic, his most lethal way of controlling me. He thought that as long as he brought up my father, I’d immediately kneel on the ground and beg him like before. Unfortunately, he was wrong. I looked at his arrogant face and suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears almost came out. “Gavin, you still don’t know, do you?” I used my left hand to pry his fingers off one by one, my voice cold and emotionless. “My father has already been transferred. From now on, his life or death has nothing to do with you.” Gavin froze. He seemed unable to process what I’d said, but his grip instinctively loosened. “What did you say?” His brow furrowed. I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes. “I said, I’m no longer under your threats.” I yanked my right hand back and stepped away, creating distance between us. “Gavin, we’re completely finished. From now on, you and Serena can be together forever. Don’t ever appear in front of me again.” With that, I turned to leave. “Stop!” Gavin reached out sharply, trying to grab me again. Just as his hand was about to touch me, another large hand suddenly reached out from the side and firmly caught Gavin’s wrist. “Mr. Hartwell, manhandling a lady is hardly gentlemanly behavior.” A low, lazy voice sounded above my head. My whole body jolted as I looked up sharply. Dominic had appeared behind me at some point. He wore an impeccably tailored dark gray suit, his posture upright and bearing dignified. Dominic released Gavin’s hand and naturally pulled me into his embrace. Gavin stumbled back a step, his face iron-dark as he stared at Dominic. “Dominic Kane? What are you doing here?” Gavin’s gaze swept back and forth between Dominic and me, his eyes full of shock and suspicion. “Lila, what’s your relationship with him?” Dominic ignored Gavin’s interrogation. He looked down at me, his gaze falling on my slightly trembling right hand. His brow instantly furrowed. “What happened to your hand?” He pulled out a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket, cradled my right hand, and carefully wiped the spots Gavin had touched, as if I’d just touched something extremely filthy. “How can you use the hand you draw with to hit people?” Dominic’s voice was soft but carried indulgence and heartache. “Next time you encounter such idiots, just have the bodyguards handle it. Don’t dirty your hands.” Serena’s face instantly turned pale. Gavin trembled with rage. “Dominic Kane, what do you mean?” Gavin stared at the hand Dominic had around my waist, his eyes blazing with fury. “Lila is my woman. Stay away from her!” Dominic finished wiping my hand and casually tossed the handkerchief into a nearby trash can. He raised his head, looking at Gavin with contempt, as if he were nothing but a clown. “Mr. Hartwell may not have grasped the situation yet.” Dominic pulled me closer, his lips curving into a cold smile. “Lila is now my wife. I won’t allow you to touch her again.” Gavin stood frozen, as if struck by lightning, staring at me in disbelief. “Wife? Lila, you… you married him?”

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Mom disappeared ten years ago, and Dad has hated me for ten years. He hates me for causing Mom’s disappearance. He hates my face that looks nothing like hers. So he adopted a girl who resembles Mom eighty percent, and spoiled her rotten. Dad took her traveling everywhere, brought her on parent-child variety shows, took her on talk shows, announcing to the whole world that she was the only daughter of the Foster family. Meanwhile, I wore ill-fitting clothes and lived in the servants’ quarters of the Foster house. He let her bully me, slander me, and push me–someone who couldn’t swim–into the artificial lake. He said this was what I deserved. I thought this was what I deserved too. Until my sixteenth birthday, when Mom came back. Three days from now would be my sixteenth birthday. Every year on this day, Dad would throw a birthday party for Sophia Foster. Every classmate except me had received Sophia Foster’s birthday invitation. “Chloe, don’t take it personally. Maybe the butler miscounted and missed one,” Sophia said, standing by my desk with an apologetic expression. I kept my head down, working through practice problems with a blank face, not even glancing at her. I’d experienced Sophia Foster’s endless little tricks for nearly ten years. I was used to it by now. “Sophia, why are you explaining anything to her?” A classmate who couldn’t stand watching stood up to defend Sophia. “You’re just too nice. That’s why she keeps bullying you.” “Exactly! She’s just a maid’s daughter who shamelessly lives at your house, freeloading off you. Mr. Foster even sponsors her education, but instead of being grateful, she steals from you! Only someone as kind as you would put up with it. If it were me, I’d have kicked her out long ago!” “She’s an ungrateful wretch!” “Sophia, she’s definitely jealous of you–jealous of your family background, your grades, your popularity.” “Better not invite her. Who knows what trouble she’ll cause? Don’t let her ruin your birthday.” “She lives at the Foster house anyway. Does she even need an invitation? When the master’s family has a birthday, she should be helping out with the other servants.” “Good point!” After they finished, Sophia finally spoke slowly. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly make Chloe do that. Any other day would be fine, but that day is Chloe’s birthday too.” She said ambiguously, “Chloe, I’m sorry. I originally wanted to invite you to cut the cake together, but Dad wouldn’t allow it. Who told you to do what you did back then? Can’t blame Dad for disliking you.” I threw my pen at her face. “Fuck off!” Ten years ago, Mom disappeared while picking up a birthday present she’d reserved for me. Whether she was alive or dead, no one knew. Dad frantically searched for Mom everywhere but couldn’t find her. I cried every day, wanting Mom. Mom had spoiled me into a little tyrant. In the past, I only had to cry a little and I’d get whatever I wanted. One day, the nanny couldn’t calm me down and carried me to Dad. Dad stared at me with hatred for a while, then kicked me away. “Fuck off!” “You have the nerve to cry!?” “If you hadn’t insisted on celebrating your birthday, why would Vivian have disappeared?” “Don’t let me see you again. Get out!” From that day on, I went from being the little princess Mom cherished to a burden everyone despised. Whether I could eat depended entirely on the nanny’s mood. Later, Dad adopted a girl from an orphanage who looked very much like Mom. He gave her my room, gave her my princess dresses, gave her my birthday, and gave her my identity too. When he took six-year-old her on parent-child variety shows, I was being abused at home by the nanny, eating spoiled food. The day he publicly announced that Sophia Foster was his only daughter, I realized I had lost my father.

After school, I went home with injuries. Sophia was extremely popular in class. The moment I snapped at her, a boy immediately stood up and pushed me down. When my forehead hit the corner of the desk, everyone watched me with eyes full of coldness and schadenfreude. From elementary school through high school, I’d never had a single friend. Sophia tirelessly led everyone in isolating me. I wasn’t afraid of being isolated. What I feared was that the teacher insisted my parent come to school on Monday. The boy’s parent came that very afternoon, fiercely defending their child. “My son was just being a good Samaritan. Everyone saw that she threw something at Sophia first.” “Oh my, son, are you okay? Did you get hurt anywhere?” “Someone this emotionally unstable shouldn’t be allowed in school. Who knows what she’ll do next time?” Standing there with blood all over my face, I thought–if Mom were still here, she would defend me like this too. Instead of like Dad, who ignored my injuries completely. He checked whether Sophia’s face was hurt while telling me to get lost. “You knew Sophia has to film a show tomorrow, yet you still tried to hit her face.” “Chloe Foster, your mother was so kind. How could she give birth to such a malicious child? Sometimes I really doubt you’re even her daughter!” “Wasn’t it enough that you caused your mother’s disappearance? Now you want to hurt Sophia too?” I studied Dad’s face carefully. The disgust on his face–I’d been seeing it for ten years. Ten years ago, he wasn’t like this. When Mom was here, he loved me too. Though he always regretted that I didn’t resemble Mom, he still put tremendous effort into raising me. He named me Chloe, saying I was the Foster family’s most precious treasure. He bought me beautiful dresses and jewelry. On my fifth birthday, his gift to me was an estate. When a classmate pushed me in kindergarten, he was heartbroken. Not only did he make that family come apologize, he also found several coaches to teach me taekwondo. He told me that if someone bullied me, I must fight back, no matter who they were. He also told me that no matter what happened, Mom and Dad would always have my back. The person who once promised to always have my back was now demanding to know why I hurt his Sophia. “Go back to your room and reflect properly. Don’t come out without my permission!” From start to finish, Dad never once looked at the wound on my forehead. From start to finish, I never found the courage to relay the teacher’s message to Dad. He wouldn’t go to school for me. All these years, he’d only attended parent-teacher conferences for Sophia Foster.

After being locked up all night, my wound became infected. I wanted to go out and get the medicine kit. When I opened the door, I found the house set up with cameras, with several cameramen and a host surrounding Dad and Sophia Foster. The gentle, loving expression on Dad’s face was something I hadn’t seen in ten years. Host: “As the CEO of a publicly traded company, you must not have much time to spend with your daughter, right? How did you raise her so well?” Dad: “Sophia is naturally well-behaved. She’s my only daughter. No matter how busy I am, I make time to be with her.” Sophia hugged Dad’s arm and acted cute. “My dad is the best dad in the whole world! I just wish he had even more time to play with me! Dad, I haven’t traveled abroad yet this year!” Dad smiled helplessly but indulgently. “Alright, alright. After your birthday, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” I blinked, feeling completely numb inside. I’d seen scenes like this too many times. It didn’t hurt as much anymore. But inevitably, I still thought back to ten years ago. Ten years ago, when Mom was still here, I would hug Mom and act cute like that too, making all sorts of little requests. Mom would agree to any request I made. She had a jade necklace she’d worn for many years. When I said I liked it, she immediately took it off and put it on me. “Chloe, you must treasure this necklace. Grandma left it to Mom, and Mom has worn it for many years.” At the time, Mom stroked my head with sadness and nostalgia in her eyes that I didn’t understand. On the other side, the host suddenly mentioned Mom. “Does Sophia often think about her mother? Mrs. Foster was a very talented actress. I heard Sophia wants to take the arts exam and become an actress in the future. Is this because of her mother’s influence?” The atmosphere in the room froze for a moment. Mom’s name was taboo around Dad. In the past, when people asked questions like this, Dad would have lost his temper long ago. But today was Sophia Foster’s first variety show appearance since growing up. Dad was paving the way for her entry into the entertainment industry. Sophia’s expression turned somber. “I’ve always missed Mom and wanted to see her. The reason I want to be an actress is because I want to become an excellent person like her.” She took out a necklace. “This necklace is a keepsake Mom left me. Whenever I’m sad, I take out the necklace and look at it, and I feel like Mom is still by my side.” Seeing that necklace, I froze, uncontrollable anger surging in my chest. That was the necklace Mom gave me! Over these ten years, Sophia Foster had taken everything from me. All I had left was that one necklace. I rushed forward and snatched the necklace back without caring about anything else. “Chloe Foster! Who said you could come out?” Dad’s face darkened. “Chloe? What’s wrong?” Sophia stood up, her face showing perfectly calibrated confusion. “Sophia Foster, when did you steal the necklace?” I checked the box where I kept the necklace every night before bed. Last night, the necklace was still safely in the box. During these years when no one cared about me, only by stroking this necklace could I keep myself alive. It represented that someone had once loved me. It represented that Mom had truly existed. “What? Steal?” Sophia’s expression was shocked and innocent. “Chloe Foster! Have you caused enough trouble? This is a live broadcast!” Dad’s face was ugly. “I don’t care about any live broadcast! This is the necklace my mom left me. Why should she take it? Hasn’t she taken enough of my things already?” “And! My mom isn’t dead! Sophia Foster, watch your mouth. This isn’t a keepsake!” “Mr. Foster, what’s going on?” The host looked at me hesitantly. Sophia panicked a little and looked to Dad for help. Dad’s eyes were cold. “A servant’s relative.” I clutched the necklace tightly, my whole body turning cold. Although Dad had long ago publicly announced that Sophia Foster was his only daughter, and Sophia always told people at school that I was the maid’s daughter. But this was the first time he personally said he didn’t want me. The panic on Sophia’s face disappeared completely, and she couldn’t help feeling triumphant. Taking advantage of my dazed state, she snatched the necklace away. “Chloe, you must be mistaken. This necklace isn’t yours.” “If it were anything else, I’d give it to you if you liked it, no matter how expensive. But this necklace is what my mom left me. I can’t give it to you.” The watching staff members looked at me with very subtle expressions, probably wondering why a maid’s daughter would suddenly go crazy and rush out to steal things from the master’s family. Someone said quietly, “What a schemer. She knows it’s being broadcast live and wants to gain notoriety.” I had no time to care what others said. I just wanted the necklace back. “Give it back! That was the last thing Mom left me. Give it back!” Sophia let me pull her, deliberately loosened her hand, and the necklace fell to the ground. The jade pendant shattered into several pieces. I staggered, my mind going blank. The last thing Mom left me was also gone. “Are you satisfied now? Get out!” Dad’s face was black, his eyes looking like he wanted to tear me apart. Sophia’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Chloe! You’ve gone too far!” Those staff members were also quietly condemning me. But I couldn’t hear anything anymore. I just quickly bent down to pick up the necklace. The fragments cut my fingers. My tears fell on the wounds–wet, hot, and painful.

I got cyberbullied. That day’s content was broadcast live, and everyone felt sorry for Sophia Foster and Dad, while I faced countless attacks and insults. Several classmates acted as informants online, claiming the Foster family sponsored my private school education, that Sophia was always tolerant of me at school, but I constantly bullied her. [Ungrateful wretch!] [See, you can’t just sponsor people randomly, or you’ll raise an ungrateful wretch who bullies your own child.] [That was jade, right? The Foster family’s things must be expensive. How does a maid’s daughter have the nerve to say her mom left it to her? If she could afford jade, why would her mom work as a maid at the Foster house?] [Feel so bad for Sophia. The keepsake her mom left was smashed like that. Make her pay for it!] [Sophia looks so much like her mom. I used to be a fan of Vivian. Seeing Sophia cry breaks my heart. If Vivian were still here, she’d be heartbroken too.] [Vivian loved her daughter so much. If she knew her daughter was being bullied like this… sigh.] Vivian was my mom. Seeing this comment, my heart ached dully. If Mom were still here, would she feel sorry for me? If Mom were still here… would she recognize me? Would she, like Dad, stand on Sophia Foster’s side too? After all, I was the one who caused her disappearance. After all, I don’t look even slightly like her. Sophia Foster’s birthday party–all the classmates came. They came to knock on my door, loudly mocking me outside, taking Sophia’s side. I was locked in my room. Dad’s orders. At the time, he wouldn’t even enter my room, lecturing me through the door. “Chloe Foster, how can you face your mother? That necklace was her most treasured possession! It was your grandmother’s keepsake!” “Do you hate your mother that much? Hate Sophia that much? Do you know how long Sophia prepared for this live broadcast?” “If your mother saw what you’ve become today, she’d regret giving birth to you!” After Dad left, Sophia came in with a key. “Chloe Foster, when you heard Dad personally call you a maid’s daughter, how did you feel?” “You’re so shameless, still refusing to leave the Foster house. You got your mom killed, and Dad hates you to death. He wishes you’d die soon–he just hasn’t said it out loud.” I ignored her, staring out the window on my own. It was very lively outside. The lawn by the artificial lake was decorated beautifully. Flowers, banners, balloons, champagne towers. Gift boxes in various colors covered the ground. The birthday cake was ten tiers high. That was the scene from my memories, the scene from my dreams. Ten years. Every year, I watched someone else take center stage on my birthday. Someone was calling Sophia to cut the cake. Sophia’s face darkened, angry at being ignored by me. “Chloe Foster! I’m talking to you!” “Why didn’t you die with your mother?” She snatched the jade fragments from my hand and threw them toward the artificial lake outside the window. I suddenly stood up. Without thinking, I climbed onto the window and jumped into the lake. A chorus of exclamations, screams, cold water flooding my ears and nose. Before losing consciousness, I seemed to hear Mom’s voice. I heard her calling my name: “Chloe! Mom is here!”

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At my boyfriend Ethan’s birthday party, I managed to snag two VIP tickets to Taylor’s concert. Our friends started cheering: “Ethan, didn’t you swear you’d propose to Sophia at this concert?” My heart fluttered as I looked at him expectantly. But he turned around and handed the tickets to Nina, sitting quietly in the corner. She was the girl next door he’d grown up with. He said indulgently: “Take them. Didn’t you spend a whole week crying about not being able to get tickets?” The private room fell silent instantly. The cheering stopped abruptly. Ethan didn’t even glance my way. He just kept comforting Nina: “Sophia and I have been together for years. We’ll have plenty of chances to see concerts. If you like it, take the tickets.” Watching him act so certain I’d be understanding, I smiled slightly. Since he didn’t want to go, I’d just take someone else. I kept my voice as steady as possible and reached out to Nina: “These tickets are registered under specific names. You can’t just transfer them. Give them back.” Her eyes instantly welled up with tears, as if she’d suffered some terrible injustice. She looked up at Ethan. “Ethan… I’m sorry, I didn’t know Sophia cared this much. I don’t deserve to go to such a nice concert anyway. My boyfriend wouldn’t want to come with me…” She held out the tickets, but tears suddenly fell onto the back of her hand. Before I could even touch the tickets, Ethan pushed Nina’s hand back. He turned to look at me, frowning slightly. “Sophia, what do you mean registered names? They’re not going to stop someone with valid tickets. You’re just being selfish. Nina and her boyfriend just got together. Their relationship is still unstable. We’re just helping her out. Don’t be petty. We’ll go next time, okay?” I stood there, frozen. To get these front-row VIP tickets, I’d recruited over a dozen coworkers to help me try. All because he’d promised to propose to me at this concert. Now, he was casually giving away my effort to someone else, and calling me petty? Our friends exchanged glances. The atmosphere was painfully awkward. Our closest friend pushed Ethan and said with exaggerated expressions: “Come on, they’re just tickets, Ethan. That’s not your focus today anyway! Didn’t you prepare the…” Before he could finish, Ethan stumbled from the push. Something slid out of his jacket pocket. A deep blue box fell onto the coffee table. The lid popped open, revealing a diamond ring. “Holy shit, a ring!” “Ethan, you’re finally making your move!” The atmosphere instantly reignited as our friends started cheering again. My heart skipped a beat. I looked at Ethan. But Ethan’s expression had gone rigid. Before he could say anything, Nina looked at the ring and suddenly burst into tears. “That’s so nice… Sophia is so lucky. Not like me. My boyfriend hasn’t given me a single gift. He even says I’m annoying… Will I ever meet someone who treats me well? Does everyone just get to bully me…” Watching her cry uncontrollably, Ethan’s eyes flashed with deep sympathy. He sighed, picked up the ring box, and suddenly grabbed Nina’s hand. “Stop crying. It’s not that big a deal.” Then he actually took out the engagement ring and slipped it onto Nina’s ring finger. “Wear this ring for a few days. It’ll bring you some good luck. Show your boyfriend that Nina has people who care about her.” Only after doing all this did he turn to explain to me: “Sophia, this ring might be a bit too small. I’ll get you a bigger one tomorrow. I’m just lending it to Nina today to cheer her up. You don’t mind, right?”

Our friends, who had been cheering moments ago, were now completely stunned. Nina showed a hint of smugness. I smiled wryly. “Fine. Whatever makes you happy.” With that, ignoring his surprised look, I turned and headed home. Five years. I’d lost count of how many times Ethan had put me in embarrassing situations for Nina’s sake. At 3 AM, Ethan came home. As the birthday boy, he naturally had to stay out with his friends until dawn. He stumbled into the bedroom and hugged me tightly from behind, reeking of alcohol. His voice was slurred but placating: “Sophia, still awake… I’m sorry. It was my birthday. Everyone was there, and Nina was crying like that. I couldn’t just embarrass her. I swear, first thing tomorrow morning I’ll take you to buy the biggest, shiniest diamond ring to make it up to you. From now on, I won’t care about anyone but you, okay?” I closed my eyes. I didn’t struggle or respond. I just listened to his breathing gradually even out, my heart like a completely dried-up well. The next morning, just after seven o’clock. A piercing phone ringtone shattered the bedroom’s silence. Ethan groggily pressed answer. Nina’s sobbing voice immediately came through. “Ethan, my boyfriend broke up with me! He dumped me! He said I came home too late from your birthday party last night. He said I have no shame… Ethan, I feel terrible. Now I have no one to go to tomorrow’s concert with… I feel like life isn’t worth living. I want to jump off the building…” Ethan, who’d been half-asleep, instantly jolted awake and sprang up from the bed. He hurriedly pulled on clothes while anxiously comforting her on the phone: “Nina, don’t do anything stupid! If no one will go to the concert with you, I’ll go with you! Where are you? I’m coming right now!” He hung up quickly and turned to grab his car keys. When he met my calm gaze, he paused briefly, but anxiety quickly took over. “Nina’s in trouble. Her boyfriend broke up with her because of last night. She’s having a breakdown right now. I need to be there for her.” I sat on the bed, watching him so flustered he’d buttoned his shirt wrong, and asked quietly: “What about what you promised me last night?” Ethan frowned, his tone carrying a hint of reproach: “Sophia, how can you worry about that at a time like this? This is life and death! We’ll buy the ring next time. Just be understanding.” With that, he rushed out without looking back. I watched the direction he’d left in and suddenly felt ridiculous. I immediately pulled out my phone and canceled his registration on the concert ticket. Then I posted the ticket code online. [Rare front-row VIP ticket, original price.] Less than a minute after posting, someone messaged me. I didn’t care who it was. I sold it immediately.

Up until the day of the concert, Ethan hadn’t come home once. He’d occasionally send a message or two on Snapchat, reporting his whereabouts. As if simply reporting them made him still a dutiful boyfriend. “Nina’s mood is still really low. I took her on a road trip to clear her head. Took her to an escape room today…” I didn’t reply to any of them. I was packing things for the concert. And cleaning out everything that belonged to me, planning to take it all with me. Five years of our relationship had seeped into every corner of this place. I’d thought discarding these things would hurt, but when I actually did it, I discovered that when your heart dies to a certain degree, you can’t feel pain anymore. That afternoon, as I was folding the last few pieces of clothing into my suitcase, Nina sent me a Snapchat message. No words, just three photos in succession. One showed Nina wearing an extremely luxurious wedding dress with a long train, wearing a tiara, smiling like a real bride. Another showed Ethan’s back as he bent down to adjust Nina’s dress train. The last was a photo of them together, Nina’s hand resting on Ethan’s arm, the engagement ring still on her ring finger. Half a minute later, Nina’s text came through. [Sophia, please don’t misunderstand. I’ve only met bad boys my whole life. No one’s ever really cherished me. Ethan took me to try on wedding dresses just to let me experience what it feels like to be a happy woman. Ethan’s also checking out dress styles for you in advance. This one is really beautiful. You’ll definitely look even better in it than me.] Looking at the words on the screen, my stomach churned. I didn’t reply to Nina. Instead, I called Ethan directly. The phone rang for a long time before someone answered. In the background, I could faintly hear a sales associate saying “Sir, your wife is so beautiful.” “Hello, Sophia?” “You took Nina to try on wedding dresses?” I asked calmly. There was a second of silence on the other end, followed by an irritated sigh. “From your tone, are you interrogating me? You know I grew up with Nina. I’ve always treated her like a little sister. She just went through such a huge blow. She’s lost all faith in love. I took her to try on wedding dresses just to help her rebuild her confidence. Besides, I’m also checking out which stores have good styles for you.” Listening to this string of justifications, I actually laughed in anger. “Ethan, since you care about her so much, why don’t you go all the way and be her groom. Let’s break up.” His breathing caught sharply on the other end, followed by a low roar: “Sophia, you want to break up with me? Just because I went with Nina to try on a wedding dress? Are you serious? When did you become so unreasonable!” “Think whatever you want.” I didn’t want to hear another word from him. I hung up directly. Looking at the empty closet, I zipped up my suitcase. I’d spent five years figuring out that a man’s so-called “sibling affection” was just ambiguity and favoritism without boundaries. Now, I didn’t want it anymore.

On the evening of the concert, I’d just found my seat in the front row center. Before long, the empty seat beside me was filled as a tall figure sat down. The man wore a high-quality black shirt with the cuffs slightly rolled up. His profile showed sharp, handsome lines. Seeing me, he nodded politely, his voice deep and pleasant: “Hello, are you Miss Sophia? I’m the buyer from the resale platform.” I smiled at him: “Hello. Are you satisfied with the seat?” “Absolutely perfect.” The corner of his mouth curved into a slight smile. “Thank you for selling it at original price. I’ve been looking for this seat for a long time.” We exchanged brief pleasantries. The atmosphere wasn’t awkward at all. Just then, all the lights in the venue suddenly dimmed. The outer screens and the center stage screen lit up simultaneously. The pre-show warmup interaction began — the classic kiss cam game. The camera swept wildly through the audience. The big screen kept flashing couples’ surprised and shy faces. “Next, whoever the camera stops on, if you’re a couple, you have to kiss! If you’re not a couple, then give the person next to you a warm hug!” I was laughing and watching the fun when a dazzling spotlight fell on me and the man in the black shirt beside me. Our two faces instantly magnified on the big screen. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. The man turned to look at me. Text appeared at the bottom of the screen: [Not a couple? Give each other a hug!] Under the gaze of tens of thousands of people, a gentle smile flashed in the man’s eyes. He saved me from embarrassment. He turned openly and extended his arms toward me like a perfect gentleman. At that moment, outside the stadium at the ticket checkpoint. Ethan stood in front of the VIP entrance, touching the diamond necklace in his pocket. He was calculating how to coax me after the concert. “Ethan! Hurry, they’re checking tickets!” Nina excitedly pulled his arm. They walked to the gate. The security guard said coldly: “Please show your tickets for facial recognition entry.” Nina eagerly placed the ticket Ethan had given her on the scanner. “Beep — ” A harsh red alert sounded. [Identity mismatch. No purchase record found.] Nina froze and turned to look at Ethan with grievance: “Ethan, what’s going on?” Ethan frowned: “They must be checking strictly.” He took out his own ticket and placed it on the scanner. Another harsh red alert. The security guard looked at them expressionlessly: “You two, neither of you has ticket information under your names. Please step aside.” “That’s impossible. My girlfriend bought these as connected seats!” Ethan’s voice rose sharply in panic. The guard checked his device and looked up coldly: “Sir, the system shows the primary purchaser kept her own seat. Your companion registration was unbound by her one day ago.” Unbound? Ethan froze. The line behind them started complaining impatiently. Nina felt utterly humiliated. Her eyes instantly reddened. Amid a chorus of jeers, Ethan retreated from the crowd in complete embarrassment. He quickly pulled out his phone and pulled up my number through gritted teeth. Suddenly, thunderous cheers erupted from the giant broadcast screen on the plaza’s outer wall. Ethan instinctively looked up. On the screen, he saw my image, smiling as I embraced a handsome man beside me.

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On our sixth anniversary, I put on my sexy lingerie, prepared seven whole boxes of condoms, and planned to give Marcus a surprise. But even by dawn, he never came home. Until someone anonymously sent me a photo and a text message. In the photo, Marcus had his arms around a disheveled woman. He was cupping her face, kissing her passionately. The text had only one line: “His first love is back. Time for you, the substitute, to fuck off.” Six years. A whole six years. I thought he’d settled down for me, but in the end, I was just a similar face, a counterfeit he could summon at will. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I took off that ridiculous lingerie and dialed my family’s number. “I agree to the arranged marriage.” Gianna POV I sat in the reserved French restaurant, watching the ice cream cake on the table gradually melt. The clock on the wall had already pointed to eleven at night. Today was the sixth anniversary of Marcus and me being together. For today, I’d reserved his favorite restaurant half a month in advance, and even prepared a men’s engagement ring in my purse. I wanted to propose to him. But Marcus stood me up. His phone was unreachable, messages went unanswered. It wasn’t until my best friend sent me a screenshot from social media that my heart completely sank to the bottom. In the photo, at New York’s largest private club in a VIP room, Marcus sat on a sofa with a red-eyed, pitiful-looking woman leaning against him. Marcus’s head was lowered, his usually rebellious features now filled with tenderness as he carefully wiped her tears with a tissue. The caption read: “After all this time, Mr. Barrett’s dream girl has finally returned from abroad.” Dream girl. I stared at those words, feeling cold all over. I’d known Marcus for six years. Everyone said this good girl had tamed Marcus’s wild heart, and I’d believed it myself. Until I saw that woman’s face in the photo, and suddenly understood. That woman had a beauty mark at the corner of her eye, and when she smiled, her features were seventy percent similar to mine. So I was never anyone special, just a substitute for consolation. I don’t know how I walked out of the restaurant. When I came to my senses, I was already standing outside the club’s private room door. The door wasn’t fully closed, and jeering voices drifted out from inside. “Mr. Barrett, now that Clara’s back, what are you planning to do with that substitute at home?” “What else? Give her some money and send her packing. If she didn’t look like Clara, would Mr. Barrett have kept her around for six years?” “True. A fake is still a fake. Now that the real deal’s back, she naturally has to make room.” I froze in place, the blood in my body seeming to flow backward in that moment. I pushed open the door. The laughter in the room came to an abrupt halt. Everyone’s eyes fell on me, filled with undisguised mockery and contemptuous amusement. Marcus looked up. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He didn’t let go of the arm around Clara Hayes, only speaking in a cold tone: “Why are you here?” No explanation, no guilt, just displeasure at being interrupted. I looked at him, my voice hoarse: “Today is our sixth anniversary.” Marcus seemed to remember only then, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes: “I had something come up today. We’ll make up the anniversary tomorrow.” “What could be more important than our anniversary?” I stared hard at the woman in his arms. Clara seemed startled and shrank further into Marcus’s embrace, her voice delicate: “Marcus, this must be Miss Hayes, right? I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I just came back and was feeling down, so I asked you to keep me company. You should go back with her. Don’t fight because of me.” This retreat-as-advance tactic instantly ignited Marcus’s protective instincts. His face turned cold as he shielded Clara behind him, looking at me like I was an unreasonable stranger. “Gianna, Clara just returned and her emotions are unstable. Don’t make a scene here. We’ll talk about whatever it is when we get home.” Making a scene. Six years of our relationship couldn’t compare to a single tear from Clara Hayes. I looked at this man I’d loved for six years and suddenly felt he was completely unfamiliar. I didn’t become hysterical, didn’t cry. I simply calmly took out the engagement ring I’d prepared from my purse and, in front of everyone, threw it into the nearby trash can. “No need to make it up.” With that, I turned and walked out into the pouring rain.

Gianna POV I walked in the rain all night. By the time I returned to the apartment, I’d developed a low fever. I didn’t take medicine, just curled up on the sofa, looking at the traces of our shared life throughout the room, feeling nothing but irony. Marcus didn’t come back until noon the next day, reeking of alcohol. Seeing my pale face on the sofa, his frown deepened. “Had enough of your tantrum last night?” He loosened his tie, his tone condescending and patronizing. “Clara just got back. She has no friends here. It’s only right that I look after her more. You’re my girlfriend. Be more understanding. Don’t always act like a resentful wife.” I looked up at his self-righteous face, feeling only absurdity. “Understanding? Marcus, what exactly am I to you?” “What more do you want?” Marcus impatiently interrupted me. “I already said you’re my girlfriend. What are you still complaining about? Oh right, that ‘Starfall’ comic copyright you have—the company’s decided to give it to Clara as the lead artist.” I stood up abruptly, looking at him in disbelief. “Starfall” was a comic I’d spent three years of my life creating. It was about to be adapted for film and television, with Marcus’s company handling the development. “That’s my life’s work! Why should she get it?” “Clara studied art abroad. She needs a presentable project to establish herself in the industry.” Marcus spoke as if it were completely reasonable. “You don’t need this one copyright anyway. I’ll compensate you with a few more later. Clara has depression. She can’t handle setbacks. Just think of it as helping her out this once.” “I help her? Who’s going to help me?” I trembled with anger. “Marcus, to please your first love, you’re going to take my life’s work and give it to her?” “Gianna!” Marcus shouted sharply. “When did you become so selfish and malicious? Clara is so sick. What’s wrong with you giving in to her? I’ve already decided. Legal will send you the transfer contract this afternoon. Just sign it.” With that, he slammed the door and left. I collapsed onto the sofa, tears finally falling uncontrollably. Six years of devotion had earned me the label “selfish and malicious.” That afternoon, legal indeed sent the contract. I didn’t sign. I called Marcus directly, but he hung up. When I called again, Clara answered. “Miss Hayes, Marcus is in the shower.” Clara’s voice couldn’t hide her smugness. “You received the ‘Starfall’ contract, right? Thank you so much. Marcus said this is his welcome home gift for me. Don’t worry, I’ll draw it well.” My knuckles turned white gripping the phone. Without saying a word, I hung up. I opened my computer and looked at the thousands of “Starfall” sketches in my folder, my heart aching. Just then, my phone rang. It was Xavier calling. “Gianna, Mom and Dad found you a match for an arranged marriage. Second son of the Italian Sinclair family. His character and background are impeccable. That unreliable boyfriend of yours has been with you six years and won’t even meet the family. Break up already and come home to get married.” In the past, hearing such words, I would refuse without hesitation, even having huge fights with my family over Marcus. But this time, looking at the glaring transfer contract on my screen, I fell silent for a long time. “Xavier,” my voice was hoarse, “let me think about it some more.” I still needed a little more time to completely kill that ridiculous hope in my heart.

Gianna POV For the next few days, Marcus never returned to the apartment. But I was forced to watch his and Clara’s “sweet daily life” on various social media platforms. Clara joined Marcus’s company and became the art director of “Starfall.” She posted: “Thank you Marcus for having my back. A new beginning, please support me.” The accompanying photo was Marcus’s back as he draped a coat over her shoulders. I looked on coldly, neither liking nor questioning. Over the weekend, Marcus unexpectedly came home and tossed me a haute couture dress. “There’s a charity gala tonight. You’re coming with me.” His tone was stiff, still seemingly angry about what happened days ago. I wanted to refuse, but when I saw the dress, I paused. It was a style I’d casually mentioned liking half a month ago after seeing it in a magazine. That dying ember in my heart seemed to flicker back to life. I thought Marcus still cared about me, at least a little. That evening, I wore the dress and appeared at the gala on Marcus’s arm. However, the moment we walked into the hall, the surrounding gazes instantly turned strange. Following everyone’s line of sight, my blood froze. Not far away, Clara Hayes wore the exact same haute couture dress as me and was chatting with others with a charming smile. Wearing the same outfit wasn’t scary. What was scary was that around Clara’s neck was the diamond necklace Marcus had won at auction last month for an astronomical price—”Eternal Heart.” At the time, Marcus said it was a gift for his future wife. Now, this necklace was around Clara’s neck. The whispers around us entered my ears without any attempt at discretion. “Isn’t this the real deal and the substitute wearing the same outfit? How awkward.” “So what if they’re dressed the same? Look at the necklace around Clara’s neck. Marcus spent a hundred million on that at auction. Gianna doesn’t have a single decent piece of jewelry besides that dress.” “A fake is still a fake. Even dressed in royal robes, she won’t look like a prince.” My face turned deathly pale. I instinctively looked at Marcus beside me. Marcus’s expression was also ugly, but he didn’t comfort me. Instead, he directly shook off my hand and strode toward Clara. “Why are you wearing this dress?” Marcus frowned at Clara. Clara’s eyes reddened, biting her lip pitifully: “Marcus, I’m sorry. I didn’t know Miss Hayes was wearing this too. You had someone deliver it to my apartment yesterday. I thought you specially picked it for me…” Marcus froze, then turned to look at his assistant who had followed. The assistant explained, sweating profusely: “Mr. Barrett, you said yesterday to order two of the latest style, one sent to the apartment and one for Miss Hayes. Maybe… maybe the brand mixed them up and sent two identical ones.” The truth was out. It wasn’t that Marcus remembered my preferences. He was buying clothes for Clara and just happened to get me one too. I stood there like a complete joke. Clara timidly looked at me: “Miss Hayes, since we’re wearing the same thing, how about I go change? So you won’t feel uncomfortable.” Marcus grabbed Clara, looking coldly at me: “Change what? You’re not in good health. Why tire yourself out? Gianna, go wait in the lounge. I’ll call you when the gala ends.” He actually wanted to hide me, his actual girlfriend, to avoid making Clara uncomfortable! I looked at Marcus’s cold face, and the last spark at the bottom of my heart was completely extinguished. “No need.” My voice was so calm even I found it incredible. “You two have fun.” I turned and left the banquet hall without any reluctance.

Gianna POV The humiliation at the gala was just the beginning. The next day, my social media accounts were attacked. Clara posted several core concept drawings of “Starfall” online with the caption: “Stayed up several nights for this. Hope you all like it.” Below were water army accounts Marcus had bought and Clara’s fans flooding the comments with praise. But soon, sharp-eyed netizens noticed that these concept drawings had a style extremely similar to my previous work. Clara immediately posted an ambiguous update: “Some art styles are ingrained in your bones, after all I studied abroad for so many years. As for certain people who keep imitating me, I hope you can find your own style.” With these words, she directly painted me as a plagiarist. “The substitute even plagiarizes the art style? So disgusting!” “Gianna Hayes get out of the art community! Plagiarism dog!” Cyberbullying surged like a tsunami. My private messages were flooded with vicious abuse. I didn’t panic. I calmly organized all my drafts, timestamps, and source files from three years of creating “Starfall,” preparing to post a clarification. Just as I was about to press send, my computer screen suddenly went black. Immediately after, the apartment door was violently pushed open. Marcus stormed in with an icy aura and snatched my computer, smashing it hard on the ground. With a loud crash, the computer shattered into pieces. I froze in place, looking at him in disbelief: “Are you insane?!” “You’re the insane one!” Marcus’s eyes were bloodshot as he pointed at my nose and roared. “Gianna, are you trying to drive Clara to death? She saw the controversy online, her depression acted up, and she almost slit her wrists just now!” I laughed bitterly: “She tried to commit suicide? She stole my life’s work, turned the tables to accuse me of plagiarism, and now she’s the victim?” “What stealing? I told you ‘Starfall’ has already been given to her!” Marcus was completely unreasonable. “Once you post that so-called evidence, Clara’s reputation will be completely ruined! She’s a girl. How is she supposed to survive in this industry after that?” “What about my reputation? My life’s work?!” My eyes reddened, my voice hoarse. “Marcus, I’m also a girl, and I’ve been with you for six years! For her sake, you’re going to destroy me completely?” Looking at my red eyes, a flash of reluctance crossed Marcus’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness. “You’re strong inside. Being cursed at won’t hurt you. Clara is different. She’s too fragile.” Marcus pulled out a black card from his wallet and threw it on the table. “There’s five million in this card. Password is your birthday. Post an update immediately admitting you imitated Clara’s art style and publicly apologize to her. Then this matter is over.” I looked at that black card as if looking at the filthiest thing in the world. “What if I don’t apologize?” “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Marcus’s eyes were ice cold. “I’ll have legal sue you for violating company trade secrets and make sure you can never pick up a pen again.” To protect Clara, he would personally destroy my career. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, only deathly stillness remained. “Fine. I understand.” Marcus thought I’d given in. His expression softened slightly: “Be good. Once this blows over, I’ll take you to Europe for a vacation.” With that, he hurriedly turned and left, rushing back to the hospital to accompany his white moonlight. I looked at the computer fragments scattered across the floor without picking up that black card. I took out my phone and called Xavier. “Xavier, I agree to the arranged marriage. Come pick me up and take me home.”

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