I had been with Ethan for twelve years. I stood by him from nothing to the top of his business empire. I thought I should have become his wife long ago. But at Whitmore Corporation’s twelve-year anniversary gala, he publicly proposed to Vivian in front of everyone. My eyes turned red as I confronted him, demanding an explanation. Ethan said coldly, “Vivian’s body is fragile. She can’t handle my needs. For the past twelve years, you were nothing more than a tool for my release. Now get lost.” So I was just a toy to warm his bed. But I had been there for every step of his success. Staying up all night with him to negotiate deals. Even selling my design proposals to bail him out. Now it had all become the biggest joke. I even had a miscarriage. Our first child. Because of overwork. The security guards roughly dragged me out of the gala hall. I fell pathetically into the rain. Trembling, I pulled out my phone and dialed that number. My voice was hoarse but resolute. “I want Whitmore Corporation to go bankrupt. Immediately.”

Lena POV The twelve-year anniversary gala of Whitmore Corporation. Lights blazed, guests dressed in finery. I wore the haute couture gown Ethan had personally selected for me, standing quietly on the second-floor terrace. Everyone knew that billionaire Ethan Whitmore had cherished me for twelve years. From the day ten-year-old me was brought back to Ethan’s Manhattan villa, I became Ethan’s untouchable treasure. When I wanted to study architecture, he built me a private all-glass studio in the heart of Manhattan. When I casually mentioned loving the plane trees in Paris, he could cancel billion-dollar meetings the very next day to fly me to Paris to feed the pigeons. People in our circle were all saying that tonight at the gala, Ethan would officially propose to me. I thought so too. After twelve years together, I had long bound my life tightly to Ethan’s. I loved him, to the bone. “Now, I want to introduce someone very important to me.” In the first-floor hall, Ethan’s deep, magnetic voice spread throughout the venue through the microphone. My heartbeat skipped a beat. I lifted my dress, full of anticipation as I turned to go downstairs. However, the spotlight didn’t fall on me. The beam of light followed someone in the corner of the hall. A girl in a pure white gauze dress with a fresh, water-like presence slowly walked onto the stage. Ethan naturally took her hand, his gaze filled with a tenderness I had never seen before. “This is my fiancée, Vivian.” Boom. My mind felt like it had been struck by a heavy hammer, a sharp ringing in my ears. I froze at the landing of the stairs, the blood in my body completely freezing in that moment. Fiancée? Then what was I? What did these twelve years of companionship mean? Amid enthusiastic applause, Ethan led Vivian off the stage and came straight toward me. He looked at my deathly pale face, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “Lena, say hello to Vivian.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood in my mouth. I looked at this man I had loved for twelve years, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “Ethan… you’re joking, right?” “How could Ethan joke about something like this?” Vivian affectionately looped her arm through Ethan’s, looking at me with a smile. “You must be Lena. Ethan often mentions you, says you’re a genius architect. Perfect timing. Ethan and I haven’t settled on a design for our wedding house yet. Could you help us design it?” I found it utterly absurd. She wanted me to personally design a wedding house for the man I loved deeply and another woman? I looked at Ethan pleadingly, hoping he would refuse this cruel request. But Ethan just looked at me coolly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Vivian likes your design style. I’m comfortable leaving this to you.” In that instant, I heard the sound of my heart shattering. “Fine.” I forced out a smile uglier than crying. “I’ll design it.” I turned and fled hastily, rushing into the restroom, frantically splashing cold water on my face. My phone in my bag vibrated. It was Professor Miller calling. “Lena, that three-year ancient architecture restoration and reconstruction project in Paris. I’ve kept a spot for you. How’s your decision going? If you go, you probably won’t be able to return to New York for three years.” Before, I had refused without hesitation because I couldn’t bear to leave Ethan. But now, looking at my wretched reflection in the mirror, I took a deep breath and slowly said. “Professor Miller, I’ll go. Give me two weeks to wrap things up here.” After hanging up, I walked out of the restroom. At the end of the hallway by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ethan was draping his suit jacket over Vivian’s shoulders, lowering his head to tenderly kiss away the champagne stain at the corner of her lips. I quietly watched this scene, the light in my eyes extinguishing completely.

Lena POV I don’t know how I made it back to the Manhattan villa. Everywhere held traces of my life with Ethan. The slippers by the door, side by side. The sofa I’d picked out. And that room on the second floor. The private architecture studio Ethan had spent a fortune building for my eighteenth birthday. I pushed open the door and walked wearily upstairs. However, when I reached the second floor, I froze. The door to my treasured studio was wide open. Maids were going in and out, carrying my expensive German drafting table. My rare architecture books. Piles of drawings I’d poured my heart into. Vivian stood in the middle of the room, wearing an oversized men’s shirt. Ethan’s shirt. She held a cup of hot milk, looking at me innocently. “Oh, Lena, you’re back. I’m so sorry. I had the maids clean the room today. These things looked old, so I thought they were trash you didn’t want and had them thrown in the storage room. You’re not upset with me, are you?” “Stop!” My whole body trembled as I rushed over to block the maids. “Who gave you permission to touch my things?!” Vivian jumped in fright, backing up a step, her eyes instantly reddening. “Lena, I’m sorry… I didn’t know this was your room. Ethan said this room has the best lighting and is most suitable for my dance studio…” “This is my studio!” I said, eyes red, like a small beast protecting its food. “What’s all this noise in the middle of the night?” A deep, cold voice came from behind. Ethan strode upstairs, his brow furrowed. Vivian immediately threw herself into his arms like a frightened rabbit, her voice choked. “Ethan, did I make Lena angry? I’m sorry, I don’t want this room anymore. I’ll move out tomorrow…” “Nonsense.” Ethan put his arm around her waist, patting her soothingly, then looked coldly at me. “Lena, Vivian is a professional dancer. She needs a practice room with good lighting and space. Can’t you draw those plans of yours anywhere? Clear out the room for her.” I looked at him in disbelief. “Ethan, have you forgotten how this studio came to be?” My voice trembled. “This was your eighteenth birthday gift to me! You said this was my exclusive space, that no one was allowed to touch it!” A flash of discomfort crossed Ethan’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness. “It’s just a room. When did you become so selfish and petty? Vivian is my fiancée, and this villa is mine. You’re going to fight with her over these things?” Selfish? Petty? Looking at this familiar yet strange man before me, I suddenly felt utterly ridiculous. He trampled on my heart’s work to please another woman, then turned around and accused me of being selfish. “Fine.” I closed my eyes, swallowing the sourness in my throat. “I’ll clear it out.” I turned around without looking at Ethan again, bending down to pick up the scattered drawings from the floor, one by one. Ethan watched my thin, stubborn back, an inexplicable irritation flashing through his heart. He stepped forward, trying to pull me. “Let the maids clean up tomorrow. You should rest early.” “Don’t touch me.” I avoided his hand, my tone as calm as stagnant water. “Don’t dirty your hands, and don’t dirty my drawings.” Ethan’s hand froze in midair, his expression instantly darkening. “Lena, do you have to speak to me with this strange attitude?” “I wouldn’t dare.” I stood up holding the drawings. “I’m just clearing space for Vivian.” That night, I didn’t sleep. I packed everything from the studio into boxes. I was leaving in two weeks. I wouldn’t leave any of these things behind.

Lena POV The next day, I went to the architecture firm as usual. My colleagues looked at me with sympathy and curiosity. News of what happened at last night’s Whitmore Corporation gala had spread. Everyone knew that Lena, the girl Ethan Whitmore had held in the palm of his hand, was out. I acted like nothing had happened, sitting at my desk organizing my resignation letter and handover documents. At three in the afternoon, the firm’s glass door was pushed open. Ethan walked in wearing a tailored suit, his posture upright. He carried a box from that French patisserie in Manhattan that was hardest to get. Before, he would personally queue up every month to buy me matcha mousse from this shop. Colleagues exchanged glances, thinking Ethan had come to make up with me. But the next second, Vivian emerged from behind Ethan. Ethan opened the box and took out the only strawberry Napoleon inside, tenderly handing it to Vivian. “You said yesterday you wanted to try this place. See how it tastes.” Vivian smiled sweetly, accepting the pastry, then turned to look at me. “Lena, Ethan said you love the matcha mousse from this shop most. He brought some for you too. Let’s all eat together.” I didn’t even look up, staring at my computer screen. “No thanks. I’ve given up sweets.” Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly as he placed the matcha mousse on my desk. “There’s a limit to throwing tantrums. Vivian specially came with me to bring you afternoon tea, and you’re showing attitude? To whom?” My fingers paused on the keyboard. I finally looked up, my gaze calm as I looked at Ethan. “Ethan, this is an office area. If you’re here to show off your relationship, please go outside.” “You!” Ethan’s anger flared at my cold attitude. Just then, Vivian suddenly exclaimed. “Wow, this model is so beautiful!” She walked to my desk and reached for the wooden architectural model inside the glass case. This was my life’s work from my university graduation, which had won the highest-level international architecture student award. Back then, to polish this model, Ethan had stayed up three all-nighters with me, his fingers cut by the carving knife. “Don’t touch it!” I shouted. Vivian was startled by my voice, her hand shaking, her fingertips catching the edge of the glass case. Crash. A crisp sound. The glass case along with the intricate wooden model inside smashed to the floor, instantly breaking into pieces, becoming a pile of scrap wood. The entire office area fell deathly silent. My breathing stopped. I looked at the pile of fragments on the floor, and the tightly wound string in my mind finally snapped. I shot up from my seat and shoved Vivian aside. “I told you not to touch it, don’t you understand?!” Vivian, wearing high heels, fell straight onto the glass-covered floor from my push, her palm instantly cut, blood flowing freely. “Ah! It hurts…” Vivian cried, her face covered in tears. “Vivian!” Ethan’s expression changed drastically. He rushed over and gathered Vivian into his arms. Seeing the blood on her hand, he turned to look at me with eyes as cold as ice. “Lena! Have you lost your mind?!” “It’s just a broken model. Did you really need to be so violent?!” Ethan’s roar echoed through the office area. I stood there, cold all over. A broken model? Years ago, when he held my hand and assembled these wooden pieces bit by bit, he said. “Lena, this is the first ‘home’ we’ve built together. I’ll always treasure it as priceless.” Now, for another woman’s sake, he degraded our past as worthless. I watched Ethan protectively hold Vivian with heartache in his eyes, and suddenly I laughed. I laughed until tears nearly came, but my voice was oddly calm. “Yeah, just a broken model. Ethan is so rich. How do you plan to compensate?”

Lena POV Ethan was infuriated by my indifferent attitude. He sneered. “Fine, I’ll compensate. Name your price. Whatever amount, I’ll pay, just to buy your insanity today!” I looked at him, the last trace of attachment in my eyes disappearing completely. “One dollar.” Ethan froze, his brow knitting into a tight knot. “What did you say?” “I said, pay me one dollar.” I held his gaze, speaking slowly. “Ethan, send me one dollar. For this model. For these twelve years. Consider it even. From now on, we don’t owe each other anything.” “Good. Very good.” Ethan pulled out his phone through gritted teeth and transferred me one dollar on the spot. “Lena, remember what you said today. Don’t come crying to me later!” With that, he scooped up the injured Vivian and left the firm without looking back. Looking at the one dollar that appeared on my phone screen, I didn’t cry. I crouched down, picked up the broom, and swept those fragments that carried my most beautiful youth, bit by bit, all into the trash can. Just like sweeping away my twelve years of ridiculous one-sided love. Returning to my seat, I typed the last word of my resignation letter on the computer and clicked send. Then I called Professor Miller. “Professor, I’ve booked my ticket. Ten days from now, I fly to Paris.” After hanging up, I looked at the overcast sky outside the window and let out a long breath. Ten days. Just endure ten more days, and I could completely leave this suffocating place, leave Ethan. That evening, the sky opened up with pouring rain. I returned to the Manhattan villa and had just reached the front gate when my steps abruptly halted. Outside the villa, by the trash bins, my things lay scattered. My custom-ordered German drafting board. Out-of-print architecture books. The markers and tools I’d treasured for years. All of them soaked in muddy rainwater. Ruined beyond repair. Vivian stood under the villa’s eaves wearing a silk nightgown, holding a cup of hot milk, looking at me with an innocent expression. “Oh my, Lena, you’re back. I’m so sorry. I had the maids clean today. These things looked old, so I thought they were trash you didn’t want and had them throw it out. You won’t blame me, will you?” I stood in the rain, icy water instantly soaking me through. I didn’t fly into a rage or rush up to question her. I just calmly walked over and searched through the muddy water. The books were ruined. The markers were destroyed. I opened a waterlogged sketch book. On the first page, in Ethan’s bold handwriting, were the words. “To my genius little architect, may you soon build the world’s number one skyscraper. Ethan” I stared at those words, rain blurring my vision. Expressionless, I tore the sketch book to shreds and threw it, along with those ruined tools, completely into the trash bin. A black Maybach sped through the rain curtain, screeching to a stop at the villa entrance. Ethan got out with a black umbrella, and seeing me soaked through in the rain, his brow furrowed instantly. “What are you doing out here? Don’t you know it’s raining?” He strode over and grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me under the umbrella. I forcefully shook off his hand. “Don’t touch me.” My voice was colder than the autumn rain. “Ethan, don’t dirty your designer suit.”

Lena POV Ethan’s hand froze in midair. Looking at my lifeless eyes, panic flashed in his gaze. He glanced at the things by the trash bin, his tone softening slightly. “They’re just some rulers and drawing boards. Tomorrow I’ll have someone buy you the most expensive set as compensation. Stop being stubborn with me out here and go inside to shower.” “No need.” I walked past him straight into the villa. I returned to my bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and packed only a few changes of clothes and important documents. When I came downstairs with my suitcase, Ethan and Vivian were sitting on the living room sofa. Seeing the suitcase in my hand, Ethan shot to his feet, his expression livid. “What are you doing?” “Moving out.” My tone was flat. “Since there’s no place for me here anymore, I won’t stay and be an eyesore.” “Lena!” Ethan rushed over in a few strides, pressing down hard on my suitcase, gritting his teeth. “Try taking one step out that door! You’re moving out over some broken junk?” I lifted my head and looked directly into his furious eyes. “Ethan, I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I gently pushed his hand away. “I truly don’t want you anymore.” I moved to a budget hotel near the architecture firm. The room was small, without floor-to-ceiling windows or soft wool carpets, but it gave me an unprecedented sense of relief. After Ethan discovered I had really moved out, he was completely enraged. He thought I was just deliberately playing games, thought I wouldn’t last three days before coming back crying to apologize. But for three whole days, I sent no word. On the fourth day, Ethan’s call came through. I looked at the name flashing on the screen and pressed answer. “Where are you?” The man’s voice suppressed his anger. “Get back here right now.” “I’m drawing the design for your wedding house.” I tapped on my keyboard while responding in a flat tone. “The hotel is quiet. Good for work.” “Lena, stop using work as an excuse!” Ethan laughed coldly. “You think moving out will make me soften? I’m telling you, if you don’t come back today, don’t ever come back!” “Okay.” I agreed without hesitation. Dead silence fell on the other end of the line. Ethan seemed not to have expected such a straightforward answer, his breathing growing heavier. “Lena, you’ve got some nerve. Do you believe that with one word from me, you won’t be able to work anywhere in the architecture industry!” “As you wish.” I hung up directly and put my phone on silent. I looked at the 3D modeling on my computer screen that was nearly complete. This was an extremely luxurious villa, every detail designed according to Vivian’s preferences. Ostentatious. Ornate. Without a trace of the minimalist style I once loved. This was the last cage I would design for Ethan. My phone screen lit up with an incoming message. The sender was Vivian. In the photo was a messy bed, Ethan’s sleeping profile, and Vivian’s arm draped across his chest. The caption read. “Lena, Ethan says he loves my body the most. Every night he holds me and says I’m his only woman. As for you, you’re just a pitiful orphan he kept out of sympathy. Stop clinging desperately.” Looking at this deliberately provocative photo, my heart was surprisingly calm. No anger, no jealousy, only deep exhaustion and relief. I casually took a screenshot and replied. “Wishing you happiness. He’s all yours.” After sending this message, I exported the last rendering and packaged it into a compressed file. Three days until my flight to Paris.

Lena POV Day three. I received a call from Ethan’s mother demanding I attend Vivian’s wedding dress fitting. Since Ethan had supported me financially for years, I didn’t refuse and took a cab to the most elite haute couture bridal shop in the city center. Inside the shop, Vivian wore a diamond-encrusted train wedding dress, like a princess on high. Ethan sat on the velvet sofa, gazing at her tenderly. That look had once belonged only to me. Seeing me enter, Ethan’s gaze instantly turned cold, with a punishing edge. “You actually showed up? I thought you’d hide in that dump of a hotel forever.” Ignoring his mockery, I walked straight to the coffee table, pulled out a USB drive from my bag, and placed it in front of him. “This contains all the design plans and construction proposals for the wedding house. My work is complete.” Ethan looked at the USB drive, irritation suddenly surging in his chest. He stood up abruptly. “What do you mean? Hand over the designs and think you can leave?” “Lena,” Vivian lifted her skirt and walked over, saying sweetly, “the train on this wedding dress seems a bit long. Can you help me adjust it?” She looked down at me from her elevated position, her eyes full of victor’s pride. I stood without moving. Ethan spoke coldly. “Lena, help her. I’ve funded you all these years. Vivian is my fiancée. Don’t you understand basic courtesy?” I looked at Ethan and suddenly laughed. I obediently crouched down and reached to adjust the elaborate lace train. Malice flashed in Vivian’s eyes as her high heel deliberately stepped forward, the sharp heel aimed straight at the back of my hand. I quickly pulled my hand back. Vivian stepped on nothing, her body tilting, nearly falling. “Ah!” Vivian cried out, looking at Ethan aggrieved. “Ethan, Lena deliberately tripped me…” Ethan caught Vivian, glaring at me furiously. “Lena, are you done yet?!” I stood up, dusting off my hands, my gaze clear and cold. “Ethan, I’ve submitted the designs. The day after tomorrow at the wedding, I will ‘attend’ on time.” I deliberately emphasized the word “attend.” Hearing me agree to attend the wedding, Ethan’s expression eased slightly as he snorted coldly. “Smart of you. You’re the girl I raised. You must be present to witness my wedding.” “Of course.” I curved my lips into a smile devoid of warmth. “I will witness it.” I turned and walked out of the bridal shop, tossing that gold-embossed wedding invitation into a roadside trash bin. October 28th. Today was Ethan and Vivian’s wedding of the century. The ceremony was held at the most luxurious cathedral in downtown Manhattan. I knew that right now the venue must be decorated with tens of thousands of airlifted white roses, numerous guests, extremely extravagant. But I didn’t go. I went to the international airport thirty kilometers away. In a simple trench coat, I wheeled my suitcase through security. The airport announcement came on, a sweet female voice. “Passengers traveling to Paris, please note, your flight is now boarding…” I pulled out my phone and looked at the dozens of missed calls from Ethan. Then I opened the message screen. I typed out one last line: “Ethan, happy wedding. That design is my final gift. From now on, we’ll never meet again.” I hit send. Then I blocked Ethan’s number, popped out my SIM card, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. After that, I walked toward the boarding gate without looking back.

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My fiancé Hayden Holloway’s legs had finally healed. The first thing he did was have sex with his first love, Seraphina Vale, in our wedding suite. I stood at the bedroom door. It wasn’t fully shut. Their moans drifted out. Their conversation too. “Now that I’m whole again, can we get married?” Seraphina panted, “What about Chloe?” Hayden’s voice was cold. “I never loved her. She was just a substitute for you.” Every word was a knife to my chest. Three years. When he was paralyzed, I stayed by his side. I brought him through the darkest days. Now he’s back on his feet. And he’s throwing me away like trash. My eyes burned. I grabbed my phone. Sent a message to that man. “I agree to marry you.” Chloe POV In the VIP dressing room on the hotel’s top floor, the lighting was dim and intimate. Hayden stood behind me, his warm fingertips grazing my bare back deliberately, making me shiver. He lowered his head, his thin lips against my ear, his breath hot. “This dress suits you perfectly. At tonight’s gala, just stay by my side.” I looked at our overlapping figures in the mirror, my cheeks flushing. Three years. When Hayden’s accident left him paralyzed, when everyone else abandoned him, I stayed. Day and night. I was there through the brutal pain of rehab. I endured his rages, his coldness, every time his condition flared. Now he had finally gotten back on his feet and reclaimed his power. Tonight was his first public gala after retaking control of the family corporation, and he’d brought me along. I thought I’d finally made it through the hard times, that I could finally stand by his side openly. Just as Hayden’s hand slowly slid down along my waistline, urgent knocking suddenly came from outside the door. “Hayden, come out for a minute. We have a problem.” It was Hayden’s best friend, Derek. Hayden’s movement paused, displeasure flashing across his features, but he still pulled up my zipper and coaxed me in a low voice. “Wait here for me.” As the door opened and closed, a thread of cold air from the corridor slipped in. I smoothed out my dress, about to follow him out to hand him the phone he’d left behind, when I heard Derek’s voice through the door crack, suppressing angry fire. “Have you lost your mind? The media outside already has their cameras set up. You’re going to publicly announce your engagement to Seraphina tonight?! Then what did you bring Chloe here for? To watch you put an engagement ring on another woman’s finger?” My feet froze in place, the blood in my body seeming to flow backward in that moment. Seraphina Vale. The woman Hayden couldn’t forget. Three years ago, when Hayden had his accident and doctors declared he’d be paralyzed for life, Seraphina had fled abroad overnight, leaving without a trace. Now that Hayden was wealthy again, she’d come back. The hallway went quiet for two seconds. Hayden’s voice came through the door crack, cold, rational, without a ripple of emotion. “Seraphina just returned to the country, and the Vale family is getting restless. I need to give her a title to stabilize the situation. I owe her this. As for bringing Chloe, it’s to let her adapt in advance.” “Adapt to what? Adapt to being your mistress?” Derek laughed coldly. “All of us brothers know how she’s treated you these past three years! Aren’t you afraid she’ll make a scene?” “She won’t.” Hayden’s voice carried absolute confidence. “I’ll compensate her. That villa in the south district worth three hundred million, plus the jewelry brand under Holloway Corporation, I’ll transfer them all to her name. As long as she behaves, I can give her anything she wants except the title of Mrs. Holloway. She’s a smart woman. She knows how to choose.” Inside the door, I pressed my hand hard over my mouth to keep the sob from escaping. So in his eyes, my three years of devoted companionship were nothing more than a transaction that could be settled with money and property. He wanted to marry his beloved, but still wanted to keep me as a caged canary in the shadows. How cruel. How arrogant. I slowly retreated back into the dressing room, looking at my elaborately dressed self in the mirror, suddenly feeling like a complete joke. I didn’t cry. Because my tears had dried up during those three years, accompanying him through countless desperate nights. I took out my phone and found a number I’d barely ever called, pressing dial. The call connected. Hayden’s grandfather’s authoritative, harsh voice came through. “What, changed your mind?” “Yes.” My voice was quiet but steady. “Mr. Holloway Senior, I accept your deal. I’ll take the money and go. Leave Hayden forever.” He snorted. “Finally you see reason. You’re a broke has-been. Being there for his low point was your good luck. But as his wife? Not good enough. Seraphina is who we chose for him.” “I understand.” I interrupted him. “I only want the money you promised, and also, help me erase all my exit records. I don’t want him to find me.” “The money will be transferred to your account tonight. I’ll give you two weeks to handle everything and leave without a trace.” “Fine.” After hanging up, I took a deep breath and removed the diamond necklace Hayden had just put on me himself, casually tossing it onto the vanity. I pushed open the door, but instead of going to the gala, I left through the staff passage, walking away from the hotel without looking back.

Chloe POV The autumn night was cold. I walked alone through the streets. As I passed the city center’s largest plaza, my steps halted. The plaza’s massive LED screen was live-broadcasting the Holloway Corporation gala. On screen, Hayden wore a bespoke suit, his posture straight, his features composed and noble. Standing beside him in a pure white gown was Seraphina, their fingers intertwined. Under countless flashing lights, Hayden took the microphone, his voice low and pleasant, carrying across the entire plaza. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I’d like to take this opportunity to announce some good news. Next month, I will officially become engaged to Miss Seraphina Vale.” The venue erupted in applause. Seraphina nestled in his arms, smiling shyly, tears of emotion glistening in her eyes. I stood in the cold wind, quietly watching the couple on screen who looked like a perfect match. I noticed the sapphire necklace around Seraphina’s neck called “Tears of the Deep.” That was a piece I’d designed myself. Hayden had bought it at auction at a high price recently. I’d always thought it was the three-year anniversary gift he was preparing for me. Turns out, it was to win another woman’s favor. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Hayden. “Saw the broadcast? Don’t overthink it. Wait for me in the dressing room, I’ll take you home later.” Looking at this brazenly confident message, I smiled bitterly and replied with one word. “Okay.” Then I hailed a taxi back to Mountainview Villa. This was the place where Hayden and I had lived together for three years. Opening the door, the whole house was filled with traces of our life together. The couple’s slippers by the entrance, his favorite cushion on the sofa, and the roses I’d planted myself on the balcony. I didn’t turn on the main lights, leaving only a wall lamp on. I dragged an old suitcase out from storage and started packing. Actually, there wasn’t much to pack. The designer bags, haute couture clothes, and expensive jewelry Hayden had bought me. I didn’t touch any of it. I only took a few of my old clothes and the one photo my mother had left behind. After packing, I threw away the couple’s mugs we’d used, the Polaroid photos we’d taken together, and the rehabilitation diary I’d stayed up late organizing for him, all into the trash. If I was going to leave, I should leave cleanly. At 2 AM, my phone notification chimed. The fifty million Hayden’s grandfather had promised had arrived. Immediately after, a new post appeared on social media. From Seraphina. A grid of nine photos. The center was a close-up of the “Tears of the Deep,” surrounded by photos of them together at the gala, and a candid shot of Hayden lowering his head to kiss the back of her hand. The caption read: “After all this time, it’s still you. He said the position of Mrs. Holloway will always be reserved for me alone.” This post was set to be visible only to me. I liked it, then opened my conversation with the immigration consultant. “For my Australia visa expedited processing, how many days at minimum?” They replied quickly. “Miss Blake, expedited would take about ten days.” “Good. As fast as possible.” I put down my phone and lay on the cold bed, closing my eyes. Ten more days. In ten days, Hayden and I would have nothing to do with each other.

Chloe POV The next morning, the sound of fingerprint unlocking came from the villa’s front door. Hayden walked in carrying a faint scent of alcohol and the morning chill. I sat quietly in the dining room drinking milk, not even lifting an eyelid. Hayden came over and sat across from me, his tone carrying a condescending gentleness. “Why did you come back on your own last night?” “I was tired.” My tone was flat. Hayden looked at my calm face and nodded. “You saw last night’s news. Seraphina’s health isn’t good, and the Vale family needs this ceremony. But don’t worry, the engagement is just for show. My life won’t change. You’ll still live here. That villa in the south district will be transferred to your name tomorrow.” Making infidelity sound so refreshingly innocent. Hayden was truly one of a kind. I swallowed the tasteless milk in my mouth and didn’t argue, just said “Mm” lightly. Hayden looked around, suddenly frowning. “Why does the house feel so empty? Where’s that pair of mugs from the table?” “I accidentally broke them and threw them out.” I didn’t even lift my eyelids. Hayden didn’t press further. After a moment of silence, he suddenly spoke. “Chloe, I need your help with something.” I put down my spoon and looked at him. “Seraphina really likes your jewelry design style.” Hayden looked into my eyes, his tone carrying an undertone of non-refusal. “She’s having an engagement party next month. Design an engagement ring for us. You can decide on materials and budget.” The air seemed to freeze in that moment. Having the current girlfriend design the engagement ring for his ex. Hayden, how could you be this cruel? My hands under the table clenched tight, nails digging deep into my palms, using pain to maintain surface calm. I looked at this man I’d loved for three years, suddenly finding him terrifyingly unfamiliar. “Sure.” I smiled. “When Mr. Holloway asks, how could I refuse? But the design fee can’t be skipped.” Hayden paused, then took out an unlimited black card and pushed it in front of me. “Of course. The PIN is your birthday. Buy whatever you want. Don’t shortchange yourself.” I took the black card without hesitation. “Thank you, Mr. Holloway.” After breakfast, Hayden went to the office. I took that black card and went straight to the city’s largest stray animal shelter, donating every bit of the card’s available limit. Since it was compensation, he had no say in how I spent it. Over the next few days, I went to the studio every day on time to “draw designs,” but actually I was liquidating my domestic assets and canceling various memberships and bank accounts. Seven days until departure. That afternoon, I’d just finished confirming my visa progress at the immigration office when I got a call from Derek. “Chloe, Hayden’s got a gathering at ‘Nightfall.’ He wants you to come.” Derek’s tone was somewhat stiff. I wanted to refuse, but remembering that my current identity was still his obedient “canary,” I took a cab to the club. Pushing open the private room door, smoke filled the air inside, packed with the city’s wealthy and socialites. Hayden sat in the main seat with Seraphina leaning against him, the two chatting and laughing quietly. Seeing me enter, the room instantly went quiet. “Miss Blake is here.” Seraphina broke the silence first, standing up with a smile. “Come sit quickly. Hayden said you brought the initial ring design today. I want to see it.” I walked over and took out a stack of random drafts from my bag, handing them to her. Seraphina took the drawings and made a show of looking through them. Suddenly, her hand slipped, and a cup of scalding hot coffee that had just been poured on the nearby table flew straight toward me.

Chloe POV “Watch out!” Along with Seraphina’s startled cry, the cup of scalding coffee splashed entirely onto my right hand. Searing pain instantly struck. I jerked my hand back, watching my pale skin visibly redden and rapidly blister. For a jewelry designer, the right hand is everything. The room instantly descended into chaos. Hayden practically reflexively stood up, pulling Seraphina into his arms and frantically checking her over. “Seraphina, are you okay? Did you get burned?” Seraphina hid in his embrace, eyes red-rimmed, like a frightened rabbit. “I’m fine… Hayden, I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t hold the drawings steady…” “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” Hayden softly comforted her, only then turning to look at me. Seeing my severely swollen right hand, his brow furrowed tight, but his tone carried reproach. “Chloe, how could you not even dodge a cup of coffee? Seraphina’s timid. Don’t scare her.” I trembled from the pain, my left hand gripping my injured right wrist tightly. I looked at Hayden’s face full of concern for Seraphina, hearing his victim-blaming accusations, suddenly feeling like even breathing tasted of blood. I couldn’t dodge? Seraphina deliberately pushed the cup toward me! The surrounding wealthy people started chiming in too. “Exactly, Chloe. Seraphina just got back to the country. Why are you pulling that face?” “It’s just a burn, not like your face is ruined. Do you have to be so dramatic?” “I think she’s just jealous that Seraphina gets to marry Hayden. She’s deliberately playing the victim.” Every sentence a knife, every word condemning. This was the man I’d loved wholeheartedly for three years. This was the circle I’d once tried so hard to please. In front of Seraphina, even my breathing was wrong. “Hayden, don’t blame Miss Blake.” Seraphina peeked out from Hayden’s arms, looking at me pitifully. “Miss Blake, I’m sorry. Is your hand okay? Should I take you to the hospital?” “No need.” I said. I didn’t look at Seraphina’s fake face, nor did I look at Hayden. I straightened my spine and, forcing myself through the agonizing pain in my hand, walked step by step toward the door. “Chloe, stop right there!” Hayden shouted sternly. “Seraphina is apologizing to you. What’s with that attitude?” My steps halted. I slowly turned around, my gaze calmly sweeping across Hayden’s face. I smiled. “What attitude does Mr. Holloway want from me? Should I kneel down and thank Miss Vale for gracing me with this cup of hot coffee?” “You!” Hayden’s face turned iron. “The ring design is ruined. Miss Vale should find someone else.” With that, I walked out of the room without looking back. The moment the door closed, I heard Derek’s voice from inside. “Hayden, Chloe’s hand looks pretty badly burned. She makes her living with her hands…” “She won’t die.” Hayden’s cold, hard voice penetrated the door and struck my heart. “Her temper’s getting worse and worse. It’s all because I’ve spoiled her. Let her cool off for a few days on her own.” I closed my eyes as tears finally fell. I took a taxi to the hospital alone. In the emergency room, the doctor treated my blisters while giving me stern instructions. “Second-degree burns. This hand can’t touch water for at least a month, and you definitely can’t hold a pen to draw. If it gets infected, it could scar, or even affect the nerves.” “I understand. Thank you, doctor.” After treating the wound, I left the hospital. The night wind cut through me, bone-chillingly cold. I took out my phone and looked at the countdown on my calendar. Five more days. Hayden, you’ll never control me again.

Chloe POV When I returned to Mountainview Villa, it was already late at night. The living room lights were off. I felt my way to the sofa in the dark, about to sit down, when suddenly the sound of a lighter clicking came from the darkness. A ghostly blue flame flared up, illuminating Hayden’s grim face. He sat in a single armchair, a cigarette between his fingers, his gaze fixed heavily on me. “Where were you?” He spoke, his voice hoarse. I ignored him, walking straight to the bar to pour a glass of warm water. Hayden suddenly stood up, striding over and grabbing my wrist. “I asked you a question!” He grabbed precisely my injured right hand. I gasped in pain, and the water glass fell from my hand, shattering on the floor. Only then did Hayden notice the thick bandages on my hand. He froze, instinctively loosening his grip, a flash of panic in his eyes. “Your hand… what did the doctor say?” “Won’t die.” I threw his words from earlier right back at him. Hayden’s face stiffened. He irritably loosened his tie, softening his tone. “I was harsh earlier. But Seraphina didn’t do it on purpose. You embarrassed her in front of all those people. I had to consider her feelings. I’ll have my assistant send over some limited-edition jewelry tomorrow. Consider it an apology.” A slap, then a sweet treat. This was his usual method for taming pets. I looked at Hayden, suddenly feeling very tired. I didn’t even have the energy to be angry. “No need. I’m tired. I want to rest.” I walked past him, heading upstairs. Hayden followed, embracing me from behind, his chin resting in the hollow of my neck, his voice low and husky. “Chloe, stop being difficult. After Seraphina’s matter is handled, I’ll take you to meet my grandfather and make our relationship official, okay?” My body stiffened like stone. Just then, Hayden’s phone on the bedside table rang. A special ringtone. Seraphina. Hayden paused, releasing me and walking over to answer. “Hayden…” Seraphina’s tearful voice came through. “There’s thunder outside. I’m so scared… Can you come keep me company?” Thunder indeed rumbled outside. Hayden frowned, glancing at my silent figure, but ultimately picked up his coat. “Seraphina has claustrophobia. I’ll go check on her. Go to bed early.” He hurried out of the bedroom. The sound of a car engine starting came from downstairs, soon disappearing into the rainy night. I walked to the window, watching that black car melt into the darkness. I smiled. I turned and took out my phone, about to contact the consultant to confirm tomorrow’s flight, but received an email from the airline about a cancelled ticket. Immediately after, a text message popped up. “Miss Blake, your passport status is abnormal. You have been restricted from leaving the country.” My whole body stiffened, blood running ice cold. I quickly checked my bank account and discovered that after I donated the fifty million from the black card that afternoon, Hayden’s assistant had checked my transaction history. Though Hayden had gone to Seraphina’s place, he’d canceled the card and even used his connections to lock down my exit permissions. He was warning me that without his permission, I couldn’t escape even with wings. The airport route was completely blocked. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I found Hayden’s grandfather’s number and called. “Mr. Holloway Senior.” As soon as he answered, I said directly, “Hayden has restricted my exit. If you still want me to disappear from your lives forever, I need your help.” The other end was silent for a moment, then his cold, hard voice came through. “What do you want to do?” “I need an absolutely safe private flight route, and also, a completely new identity.” I said, “In exchange, I’ll give you a Chloe Blake who’s ‘dead’ and gone for good, guaranteed that Hayden will never find me again for the rest of his life.”

Chloe POV Two days later. My right hand was severely burned, so I could only use my left hand to awkwardly sort through my mother’s belongings. The front door suddenly made the sound of a password unlock. I thought it was the housekeeper and didn’t turn around. Until the sound of high heels clicking against the floor stopped behind me, and a saccharine, affected voice rang out. “Miss Blake, long time no see.” I turned around to see Seraphina. Seraphina wore designer haute couture, surveying the villa like a victor, her gaze finally landing on my face as she covered her mouth and giggled. “Hayden said you’ve been in a bad mood lately, recuperating at home. I came specifically to see you.” “Seen enough? You can leave now.” My tone was cold. Seraphina wasn’t bothered. She leisurely walked to the table and picked up a photo frame. It was a photo of my mother from when she was alive. “Tsk, this is your bankrupt dad who jumped off a building and your mom who died of illness?” A flash of malice crossed Seraphina’s eyes. “A whole family of short-lived ghosts. No wonder you can only cling to Hayden like a dog.” “Shut your mouth!” I suddenly stood up, rushing over to snatch back the frame. But Seraphina simply let go. With a crisp sound, the frame fell to the floor, glass shattering everywhere. My heart clenched violently. I crouched down to pick up the photo. But Seraphina suddenly crouched beside me, grabbing my hand and lowering her voice. “Chloe, you can’t fight me. As long as I shed one tear, Hayden would give me his life. What are you?” With that, she picked up a sharp piece of broken glass and without hesitation drew a long gash across her own pale arm. Blood immediately gushed out. “Ah! It hurts! Miss Blake, why would you do this to me!” Seraphina suddenly screamed, collapsing to the floor, crying with tears streaming down her face. The door banged open. Hayden strode in. I watched him stare at the blood on Seraphina’s arm, then rush forward and shove me aside. Already weak, I staggered backward from his forceful push, my waist slamming hard into the sharp table corner before my whole body fell into the glass-strewn floor. Sharp fragments instantly pierced my left palm and legs. Searing pain struck, my vision went dark, and cold sweat instantly soaked my back. “Hayden, it hurts… I just wanted to see Miss Blake, and she suddenly went crazy…” Seraphina trembled in Hayden’s arms. Hayden covered Seraphina’s wound, turning to look at me with eyes so cold they could kill. “Chloe, you’re getting more vicious by the day! Seraphina came in good faith to see you, and you dared to hurt her?” I lay on the floor, looking at my own blood-soaked hands, then at Hayden’s furious face. I didn’t defend myself. I just smiled, a smile uglier than crying. “Yes, I’m vicious.” My voice was weak but every word clear. “Hayden, why don’t you just kill me.” Hayden picked up Seraphina and strode outside. “You stay here and reflect! Without my permission, no one is allowed to treat her wounds!” The door slammed shut. I lay on the cold floor, looking at the blood everywhere, and took out my phone to call emergency services. At the hospital, the ER nurse was shocked to see my injuries. “Chloe?!” I looked up to see Derek’s sister, Stella. Stella picked out glass shards while crying. “That bastard Hayden, how could he do this to you!” I trembled from the pain but gripped Stella’s hand in return. “Stella, do me a favor. Help me… die cleanly.”

Chloe POV Seraphina was also sent to this hospital. I lay in a regular ward, both hands wrapped in bandages, my body so weak I could barely turn over. Stella suddenly burst into the room in a panic. She told me. To thoroughly torment me, Seraphina had secretly taken excessive blood-thinning medication, then quietly reopened the wound on her arm. Now she was hemorrhaging badly, chaos in her room. The doctor told Hayden she had a clotting disorder to begin with, and now with excessive blood loss and the hospital’s RH-negative blood bank running low, she needed an immediate transfusion! I immediately understood. Seraphina wanted my life! A few minutes later, Hayden kicked open my hospital room door with a doctor. “Mr. Holloway, Miss Blake is injured and extremely weak. Drawing blood now could endanger her life…” Stella spread her arms in front of my bed, shouting angrily. “I don’t care! As long as she’s still breathing, draw it! Seraphina absolutely cannot die!” Hayden roared with red-rimmed eyes, shoving Stella aside. The cold needle pierced my bruised vein. Scarlet blood flowed along the tube, continuously filling the blood bag. I didn’t struggle. I didn’t cry. I just quietly looked at Hayden. “Hayden.” I spoke, my voice as light as wind. Hayden met my gaze. “This 800cc of blood. Consider it my repayment for your three years of shelter.” I looked into his eyes and smiled. “From now on, we’re even. I wish you and Miss Vale happiness.” Hayden’s breathing caught sharply. The nurse withdrew the needle. “Mr. Holloway, that’s enough blood.” Hayden looked at me and coldly dropped a sentence. “You’d better mean what you say. Don’t pull any more tricks.” With that, he took the blood bag and left the room without looking back. The moment the door closed, I shut my eyes. Countdown: final day. The next evening, the hotel blazed with lights. Hayden and Seraphina’s engagement party was being held there in grand ceremony. Meanwhile, at the downtown hospital, night fell. Stella pushed a medical gurney into my room. On the gurney was a corpse from the morgue. An unidentified female body with a build extremely similar to mine. This was arranged by Hayden’s grandfather using his connections. I changed into an inconspicuous nurse’s uniform, putting on a mask and cap. I walked to the bed and removed the cross necklace I’d worn for three years. Hayden had put it on me himself when he successfully completed rehabilitation. Now, I didn’t need it anymore. I placed the cross on the corpse’s pillow and turned to leave the room. At the end of the corridor, the bodyguard arranged by Hayden’s grandfather was already waiting. “Miss Blake, the car is in the underground garage. The helicopter is standing by on the roof.” “Let’s go.” I didn’t look back. Ten minutes later, piercing fire alarms suddenly erupted from the top floor of the hospital’s inpatient building. “Fire! The VIP ward is on fire!” The flames spread with the wind. Thick smoke billowed. Firelight shot into the sky. Ten thousand meters above, a private jet cut through the clouds toward the Southern Hemisphere. I leaned against the window, watching the city lights below shrink into tiny dots. I let out a soft sigh of relief. The night sky was deep. Stars glittered. Finally, I was free.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392429”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On New Year’s Eve, my water suddenly broke. My husband was so frantic he didn’t even put on shoes before rushing me to the hospital. His feet were scraped raw and bleeding. I was moved to tears, until I found an opened condom wrapper in the back seat. “What is this?” I struggled to regulate my breathing as I picked up the wrapper. My husband glanced at it briefly and explained without missing a beat: “Norris borrowed my car last week to go to a party. Probably one of her friends accidentally dropped it.” “Clark, don’t overthink this. The most important thing right now is delivering the baby safely.” Looking at the residue on the condom, I froze for a long moment. Yes, the most important thing right now was delivering the baby. Poor child, about to be born without a father. The ER on New Year’s was still packed with people. “Honey, you’re going to be fine.” “Honey, I’ll be right outside waiting for you. You can do this.” “Honey…” Beside the moving gurney, Murphy kept pace with a tense expression, gripping my hand tightly. The fine sweat on his forehead constantly proved his love for me and the baby. Everyone cast admiring, envious glances our way. Only I was breaking out in cold sweat from pain. That cold sweat was for Murphy. He performed his devoted husband act flawlessly. I’d been fooled by that face for five whole years. Now, just thinking about that condom wrapper I’d seen made my stomach churn. At the operating room entrance, the medical staff stopped him and ordered him to wait outside. “Doctor, nurse, my wife is afraid of pain. Please take good care of her…” The man’s voice trembled uncontrollably. His anxious, heartbroken appearance was truly moving. Inside the operating room, the midwife chatted with me while preparing equipment to ease my nerves. “You and your husband must have a great relationship, right? We don’t often see men who care about their wives this much.” “Yeah, your husband looked like he was about to cry.” “Right? Before we closed the door, he even told the doctor that if something went wrong, to save the mother first, haha…” If not for tonight’s accident, I definitely would have thought Murphy was the person who loved me most in this world. But hearing these words now, I didn’t even have the mood to play along. Love or not, none of it mattered anymore. The pain of childbirth intertwined with the pain in my heart. I gritted my teeth as sweat poured down. After I dilated to three centimeters, a sharp, long needle pierced into my spine, and my pain gradually went numb. I forced myself to focus all my attention on giving birth, but I couldn’t control my wandering thoughts. The sadness in my heart spread bit by bit. “Waaah!” A loud cry rang out. My baby was born. “Seven pounds, a boy. Congratulations.” The midwife placed the baby beside my bed. I traced every feature of that little face with my eyes, my heart melting completely. Baby, I hope when you grow up you won’t blame mommy for the decision I’m making now. If I could, I would have wanted to give you a complete, perfect family too. But your father can’t give that to us. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes. I turned my head, holding back the stinging in my nose, forcing myself not to cry out loud. “Clark!” Murphy rushed forward excitedly and grabbed my hand. Seeing my reddened eyes, he couldn’t help but lower his head. “Does it hurt a lot? It’s all my fault for not booking a spot for me to be in the delivery room…” I calmly pulled my hand away. “Where’s the baby?” “The nurses are doing checkups! Don’t worry, I already watched every step, took photos for records, and memorized the wristband information.”

“Are you still in pain? You worked so hard.” Murphy’s eyes were full of me. He ran around the whole time, handled all the paperwork for me, and then booked the best postpartum care center. Early in the morning, before I even opened my eyes, I heard the nurse push open the door. “By the way, if you’ve decided on a name, you can go to the first-floor lobby to process the birth certificate and medical records.” “If you haven’t decided yet, you can go to city hall after discharge.” Murphy nodded with a smile and listened as the nurse explained some things about caring for me. Through the thin curtain, I watched him record everything on his phone, word for word. He looked so focused and patient. In just one day and night, he’d become the perfect husband in everyone’s eyes. But I alone had a cold, unfeeling heart. “Honey, you’re awake?” “We need to stay in the hospital for observation for a couple days. The day after tomorrow we’ll move to the postpartum center I booked.” Murphy wiped the table clean with a disinfectant wipe, then placed the prepared postpartum meal in front of me. “Oh right, the nurse just came to ask about the baby’s name. Should we use the one we talked about before—Phillips?” I leaned against the pillow and adjusted my sitting position, then lowered my head to sip some soup. “Don’t use that one.” “I want the baby to take my last name. Let’s call him Angel Smith.” The bowl in Murphy’s hands slipped and crashed to the floor. Food scraps and oil splattered everywhere. He choked out, “Why?” “Just because of that glove wrapper on the way here that looked like a condom?” “I already explained—it was Norris’s friend who dropped it. If you don’t believe me, I can call her over to clarify.” Murphy sounded righteous, without a trace of guilt. His tone carried dissatisfaction with me for nitpicking. Seeing that I still said nothing, Murphy picked up his phone, ready to make the call. The next second, a phone rang outside the door. Norris walked in carrying flowers and gifts. “Mr. Murphy, Clark.” The moment she entered, Norris raised her eyebrows in surprise, glancing at the mess on the floor. “What happened?” “Mr. Murphy, are you hurt?” As his secretary, Norris immediately set down her things and stood beside Murphy, checking to see if he was injured anywhere. Her movements were skilled and natural, with an innate intimacy. I watched the movements of her hands, my gaze icy. Murphy stepped back guiltily and pulled Norris over: “Norris, perfect timing. Yesterday, didn’t your friend drop a condom in my car? Clark has misunderstood. Explain it to her clearly, right now, in front of me.” Norris was smart. She clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Oh my! It’s all my fault!” “My friend had her birthday yesterday. She got drunk and a bunch of stuff from her purse fell out in the car. I helped clean it up, but I guess I still missed something.” “Clark, I used to be your intern. You gave me this job opportunity. How could I possibly hook up with Mr. Murphy?” Norris laughed awkwardly and came forward to hold my hand. “Clark, I’m your eyes and ears in the company, your most loyal subordinate.” I looked at her calmly without speaking for a long while. Perhaps she really was before, but now I was certain she wasn’t. Norris had just graduated from college when she joined our company. Back then it was the startup phase, and I trained her personally. Finance, management, HR, sales—I taught her everything I knew without reservation. Only because I felt she was a lot like me—born in the countryside, no father or mother, making it this far entirely on her own. So I cared about her more than anyone else. Of course, she was smart and knew how to show gratitude. Earlier this year, after I got pregnant, I had severe bleeding due to a low-lying placenta. Murphy happened to be away on business, and she was the one who saved me.

“I’ll remember this kindness for the rest of my life.” I truly saw her as a sister, frequently buying her gifts, clothes, and giving her bonuses. The house she lived in now was mine. Later, when I was on bed rest at home, I gave her the position of Executive Assistant to the CEO and granted her significant authority. Men change when they have money, so she offered to help me keep an eye on Murphy. But I never expected that this “keeping an eye” would lead to them in bed together. Looking at these two people I once trusted so deeply, my heart felt like it was being fried in oil. Norris smiled and handed me the flowers, then pulled a necklace from her bag. “This is a gift for you, just a little something. Don’t think it’s too cheap.” Seeing I was still unhappy, Norris added another line. “Clark, don’t be so paranoid. I know—your pregnancy hormones must have dropped now, so you’re having mood swings, right? Everyone in this world might betray you, but I definitely won’t.” Norris made her solemn promise, but I was lost in thought staring at those two gold bracelets. I’d once seen the receipt for that necklace in Murphy’s jacket pocket. I thought it was a gift he’d prepared for me. Only now did I realize it was for Norris. “That’s enough. I’ve been putting up with you for days.” “For you and the baby, I’ve canceled so many work commitments. I’ve been here with you constantly, but I can’t even get a pleasant look from you. And now you’re going to keep making a scene?” “It’s just having a baby. Are you the only one allowed to be dramatic?” Murphy frowned, his expression carrying a hint of impatience. “Mr. Murphy, don’t be like this.” “Clark is vulnerable right now. She needs understanding…” Murphy didn’t even let her finish before pulling Norris away. “Understanding, understanding. Who’s going to understand me?” “Who are you pulling that face for! Norris, let’s head back to the office!” Bang! The door slammed shut. My body jolted involuntarily, and I instinctively looked toward the baby in the crib. In that instant, tears fell like broken pearls. “Hello?” “List that small two-bedroom in the downtown area for sale. Quick sale.” “Come by this afternoon. I’ll send you the address.” The person on the other end kept agreeing, then asked tentatively, “Did something happen to you?” “Nothing major. Don’t worry.” On the other end of the line was a struggling student I’d been sponsoring, a recent college graduate. I’d arranged for him to work at Murphy’s and my company. No one knew about this except me. Now, he was the only card I had left to play. At the postpartum care center, there was a New Year’s atmosphere. In the room next door, a family of three was happily taking newborn photos. Only my room was cold and empty. The company had already gone on holiday. It was obvious where Murphy had gone after leaving the hospital. I couldn’t help but open Murphy’s Instagram. It was completely empty. Not a single photo about the baby. Unwilling to give up, I opened Norris’s Instagram. A photo in the snow, location tagged as her hometown. When I zoomed in, I could see Murphy holding his phone reflected in her eyes. [Finally not alone this New Year.] My eyes immediately burned with heat. The hand holding my phone kept shaking. A fire seemed ready to burst from my chest. It hurt terribly. Murphy and I had been together for ten years. Throughout those ten years, we supported each other. From being so poor we could only squeeze into a 100-square-foot rental to owning our own company—I thought we’d weathered all storms and would never part.

But reality dealt me the heaviest blow. Throughout the entire New Year holiday, Norris kept updating her Instagram. [Bringing him to see my mom and dad.] [Gifts for grandpa and grandma.] The photos showed health supplements, fruits, cigarettes, alcohol, and cash—I roughly estimated about three hundred thousand dollars. The comment section was full of colleagues asking if she was engaged. Norris replied with a playful emoji. [The diamond ring he bought.] The photo showed two hands tightly clasped together. I read through eight full days of Instagram posts, not missing a single word. Those eight days felt as long as eight years, and my sadness spread everywhere. Murphy had vanished without a trace, playing the perfect boyfriend in someone else’s world. Even after work resumed, Murphy didn’t come to see me but went to the company to hand out bonuses to everyone. [Super, super huge bonuses!] Norris’s bonus was a full one hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars. I froze, then called Murphy. “Are you sick, giving Norris such a huge work bonus?” “What are the other employees supposed to think? Murphy, if you don’t want to continue this marriage, just say so. I, Clark, don’t need you that badly.” Murphy said nothing. After a long while, Norris’s timid voice came through. “Clark…” “This is my bonus for landing that Southern District project…” I didn’t believe that. “Let Murphy take the call. I need to talk to him.” I sharply cut off her words, demanding she give the phone to Murphy. “Mr. Murphy, he’s… not available right now…” Before she could finish, the call abruptly ended. Soon after, I received a message and learned they were hosting a reception that evening. I asked someone for the address and took a cab over. By the time I arrived, the reception had already started. Murphy was on stage talking about the company’s achievements from last year, then drinking and celebrating with colleagues. When he got to Norris’s table, someone started making trouble. “Mr. Murphy, this year Norris helped the company land such a huge deal. Aren’t you going to show some appreciation?” “Oh my! Why bring that up!” Norris coquettishly pushed the person beside her, then smiled and lowered her head. “Mr. Murphy already gave me a bonus!” “Then how about a toast, to liven things up.” Quite a few people had drunk too much and were getting rowdy. More and more joined in the teasing. Murphy held his wine glass and laughed heartily. He pulled Norris over, and they crossed arms to exchange glasses. Amid the commotion, they swapped glasses and drank them in one gulp. The atmosphere was like newlyweds toasting their guests. I sat among the crowd, feeling like a voyeur. Tears fell into the glass in front of me. I secretly wiped them away, forcing myself to accept reality. When I looked up, my gaze met that of a man in the far corner. I smiled bitterly and shook my head, the pain in my heart spreading bit by bit. My nose stung until it felt blocked. I stumbled to the restroom. Looking at my haggard self in the mirror, my emotions completely collapsed in that moment. Ten years had become a huge joke. I don’t know how much time passed before I finally collected my emotions and started to leave. But hearing the commotion outside, I stopped in my tracks. “Didn’t you say you’d ask for a divorce once she had the baby? Why are you still dragging it out?” “Are you having second thoughts about divorcing her because she gave birth to a son?”

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On the day we got our marriage license, I placed the certificate beside our candlelit dinner, ready to take a photo for Ins. My husband Hendley suddenly spoke up: “Billson, actually, this certificate is fake.” I froze. A woman’s shocked voice came through his phone: “Hendley, why did you tell her so early! This is no fun anymore!” Hendley frowned: “She’s so stupid she still hasn’t figured it out. Is there any point in continuing this act? You win the bet, okay? Cruz!” But I had already posted on Ins. Everyone was congratulating Hendley and me on our seven-year relationship finally coming to fruition. And Cruz, who had bullied me in high school, mockingly commented under my post: “Is this marriage certificate real? When are you inviting me to the wedding?” I thought for a moment and replied: “Next week.” Cruz immediately called Hendley: “You’re not breaking up with Billson?” “Why would I break up? To be with you? You’re about to get married yourself, okay?” Hendley hung up on Cruz and carefully opened the cake box, placing it in the center. Then he lit the candles and beckoned to me: “Billson, come make a wish.” My whole body went numb as I stared straight into his eyes. His eyes were calm and still, without even a trace of guilt. “Was it fun deceiving me for so long?” The smile faded from Hendley’s face. “I wouldn’t call it deception. I’d rather lose to her than keep this from you—I just didn’t want our relationship to have problems. Doesn’t that show how much I value you?” “Besides, we just didn’t get the official license. I never said I wanted to break up with you.” The cake in front of me had seven candles on it. Brazenly announcing that this was the seventh year I’d been played for a fool. The candlelight held little warmth, yet it made the long-healed scars on my arms itch slightly. I never could have imagined that my boyfriend who promised to stay with me forever and the bully who burned me with a curling iron, leaving me covered in wounds… Were actually childhood friends. The fake marriage certificate on the table was painfully glaring. The open page captured my happiest smile. I had thought my life was finally turning around. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Right, you didn’t lie.” I was the fool—stupid enough to think someone would willingly give everything to love someone as broken as me. I picked up the fake certificate and held it over the candle flame. The fire licked at it, and the cover immediately blackened at one corner. Hendley quickly pulled me into his arms. He grabbed a glass and splashed water to extinguish the flame. “What are you doing! You’re most afraid of fire!” He remembered—the aftereffects from my bullying. Every year on my birthday, I would whisper my wish in his ear. He would make the wish and blow out the candles for me. For seven years, I made the same wish countless times. “Billson wants to be with Hendley forever.” Mom remarried, Dad found someone new. More than anyone, I wanted a home with an address that would never change. What was he thinking when he heard these wishes? Was he laughing inside? Laughing at how I’d been played year after year without realizing it? And in the end, he had to mercifully tell me the truth himself? The fire was out, leaving a bloody scar on my finger. Hendley pulled out the first aid kit to apply antiseptic ointment, a flash of complexity in his eyes. “Stop being dramatic. There’s really nothing between Cruz and me. You know she’s about to get married. Whatever you want, I can compensate you.” He picked up his phone, about to show me the gifts he’d selected in his shopping cart. But his expression immediately stiffened. He frowned at me. “You did this on purpose? I specifically told you not to post it. You deliberately hurt yourself just to pressure me into marriage?!” “Billson, are you that desperate to get married?” “Isn’t dating the same thing? I was going to…” His words caught in his throat, interrupted by a phone call. It was Cruz calling, her exaggerated laughter exploding through the speaker. “Everyone knows you’re having a wedding next week! I warned you—people like her have no self-respect. Even after being played, she still desperately wants to marry you.” “She probably found out you have money. Too bad she doesn’t know you promised to protect me forever.” The man’s face darkened as he hung up and ordered me: “Delete that Ins post right now.” “I won’t delete it. Hendley, next week, I’m getting married.” Grandma was very ill. She asked me why, when Hendley and I had such a stable relationship, we still hadn’t made it official. Turns out, he’d already made promises to another woman. Continuing to date me was already the greatest charity. I should be grateful. But why did he think I would want this pity that slipped through his fingers?

“Billson, can you stop being stubborn over these little things!” Hendley slammed the door and left. I sat calmly on the sofa, unwrapped the bandage that had been wound several times around my finger, and replaced it with a band-aid. I should have realized sooner—he and I weren’t from the same world at all. He didn’t even know basic first aid. He could barely cook instant noodles without ruining them, yet he’d handled this entire candlelit dinner himself, saying he wanted to make me something delicious. Australian imported ribeye steak, estate-cellared Chardonnay wine, custom chef-made cake. Probably all ordered from upscale restaurants. Even the most inconspicuous candles were luxury brand aromatics. With one casual flip of the table, Hendley destroyed things worth three months of my salary, leaving them worthless on the floor. Splattered wine stains dirtied the wall. I was even thinking the landlord wouldn’t refund my deposit now. Amid the chaos, I started packing my things and messaged the landlord about terminating my lease. Ding~ The moment I sent the message, a notification sound came from behind me. I turned around. Hendley’s computer was still on—he’d planned to watch a movie with me. In a small group chat of seven or eight people, the group admin Cruz posted a screenshot of my message. “Oh my god, how pathetic. She’s actually asking me about the deposit.” “This is the worst property I own. I feel dirty having her live there.” Cruz was actually the landlord I’d been paying rent to all along. I scrolled up through the chat. Every screenshot in the group chat… Was about my Twitter updates. The matching pajamas I bought Hendley with my first paycheck were mocked as street market goods. The birthday cake Hendley bought me was leftover from Cruz’s pet dog. Every single thing in my life had become their entertainment. On my first day at the new company, someone sent me roses. I’m allergic to pollen. I had trouble breathing and ended up in the hospital. My face swelled up on one side. Hendley affectionately leaned in to take a photo, saying I looked cute. But when I opened the voice message in the group chat… It was Cruz and everyone else laughing shrilly: “Hendley, you actually kissed that pig. You’ve really sacrificed a lot.” “Cruz, this bet of yours has really tortured Hendley.” Hendley only replied flatly: “As long as Cruz is happy.” At those words, everyone teased them ambiguously. Intense suffocation blocked my chest, as if that day’s rose pollen had entered my nose again. Even now, Cruz was using her landlord identity to fake concern for me. “You’re terminating the lease? Where are you planning to live? I have properties in every district.” “Don’t worry about me. Remember to come drink next week.” After I replied, the group chat rolled through several more messages. Cruz said contemptuously: “What’s she acting for? She probably thinks she’s marrying into wealth now, that she’ll get to live in a mansion!” “@Hendley, where are you? Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you really going to marry her?” Soon, Hendley sent a video. “Almost there.” “Of course I’m not marrying her.” He sat in his Maybach adjusting the steering wheel, sunglasses covering his deep-set eyes. “But she terminated her lease. Won’t she have to live at your place?” Hendley instinctively hit the brakes. “What did you say?” Unease rose in his heart. He opened the remote monitoring app on his phone. In the security camera feed at his door… I wore a thin jacket, dragging my suitcase into the elevator. But he’d never told me where his real home was.

I got in a taxi and gave the address. The driver looked back at the shabby neighborhood and said with a knowing expression: “That’s quite a move you’re making.” I glanced out the window briefly, then lowered my head to reply to messages. “Yeah, moving in with my fiancé to prepare for the wedding.” “Well, congratulations! People who live in that area are all big shots.” Without responding further, I revised the ceremony schedule the wedding coordinator sent me and forwarded it out. After getting out of the car, I dragged my suitcase through the villa district for a while. Suddenly, angry shouting and screeching brakes came from behind me. “Billson, how did you find out I live here? Are you investigating me?” Seeing my suitcase made him even angrier. “You actually have the nerve to show up at my parents’ door demanding they acknowledge you? Are you crazy!” I shook my head. “No, I didn’t know you lived here.” His face darkened inch by inch as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the car. “Stop pretending! I never realized you were this calculating before!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Before you said I was stupid, now you say I’m calculating. Hendley, what exactly am I in your eyes?” The moment the car door closed, he pinned me against the window and kissed me. A bloody tearing at lips and teeth, thick with the taste of rust. He lowered his eyes. “Billson, you’re the person I like.” “But marriage takes time. At least, I need to wait until Cruz gets married first. I need to make sure she’s happy…” I laughed through my tears, which dripped onto his fingers. “I can’t wait.” The first moment I got the license, I told Grandma. The old woman’s spirits lifted considerably. She was looking forward to attending my wedding. Now what? Should I tell her… Her granddaughter was played like a dog for seven years? Seeing I wouldn’t back down, he grew angry and punched the window beside my ear, making the glass vibrate. “Billson, no wonder your parents didn’t want you! Who could stand your personality!” “You want a wedding? Can you even invite a single person on your side?” My chest rose and fell with rapid breathing. Once, this man had held me, kissing each of my scars. “Billson, it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.” “Don’t think about those people who hurt and abandoned you. Think about me, think about our future.” I slapped him hard across the face. “Get the hell away from me!” His eyes darkened as he opened the car door and pushed me out. “Don’t know what’s good for you. Fine, then we’re breaking up!” I fell to the ground. His wheel nearly ran over my fingers. I chased after him a few steps, stumbling and falling again, shouting his name over and over. Hendley stared at the rearview mirror and sneered. “You never say what you mean.” The sports car didn’t slow down at all. He was determined to punish me, to make me give in. But I just wanted my suitcase back—my ID documents were inside. I needed them to get the marriage license tomorrow.

I didn’t know where Hendley lived, so I had to search through Cruz’s social media accounts. She was beautiful with a good family background, and had quite a following on Ins. Though she usually only posted about makeup, today she suddenly posted a rant video. “This is hilarious! I’ve never seen a woman so desperate to throw herself at someone!” “If I hadn’t paid to get her wedding time and schedule, my childhood friend wouldn’t have believed she was planning a wedding all by herself!” The longer I looked at her face, the more nauseous I felt. I quickly searched through her past location tags. Finally, at the club they frequently visited, I found traces of Hendley. As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I could hear Cruz’s exaggerated laughter. “When the time comes, I’ll livestream the wedding. Hendley, don’t go. Let her wait and completely humiliate herself.” Another weak female voice hesitated: “That’s not very nice. Cruz, you have hundreds of thousands of followers. If you really do this, how will she face people?” “Hendley, maybe you should talk to her again and offer some compensation or something.” Hendley was silent for a moment, then scoffed. “Do what Cruz says. Let’s see what kind of joke she can make of herself.” I clenched my fists and turned to leave. For the next few days, Hendley didn’t receive any message from me giving in. But the group chat was lively. Cruz said smugly: “Good thing I pretended to be her landlord so she didn’t block me. I can see all her Twitter updates.” “Look at this wedding dress—such an outdated style. Even for an enemy, I feel sorry for her!” In the nine photos, I wore a conservative wedding dress style that didn’t expose my arms. But the photographer had good skills, outlining the figure by the window as sacred and beautiful. Like a light, floating cloud that could drift away at any moment. Hendley’s voice grew hoarse. He unconsciously clicked to save the original image. He suddenly imagined me in a wedding dress walking toward him. His heart unexpectedly stirred. Cruz in the group chat remained oblivious, still pointing and criticizing. “This idiot even sent me a wedding invitation, saying she invited over a thousand people and hoped I’d come.” “Hilarious. Of course I’m going. I really look forward to seeing her humiliate herself on stage!” The wedding day soon arrived. Cruz continued to relay Twitter updates in real-time. “Grandma can finally witness my happiness.” The accompanying photo showed Grandma in a wheelchair with me in a wedding dress, tears glistening in Grandma’s eyes. Hendley’s friend spoke up: “Oh no, I’m starting to feel bad. What if the old lady has a heart attack on the spot?” “Hendley, are you really not going?” Hendley’s lips trembled. Cruz interrupted first. “It’s only fun if her family is there! That old woman sat at the education bureau for a week with her cane, insisting on reporting me for bullying her granddaughter.” “My daddy confiscated my yacht because of that. I still haven’t gotten revenge for that!” She tested the waters again: “Hey, Hendley, you’re not getting soft-hearted, are you! You promised to help me!” Hendley gritted his teeth. “How could I? If she dared to pressure me into marriage, she should have thought of the consequences.” Cruz relaxed and sent a blowing kiss emoji. “Okay, I’m going to do my makeup for the wedding. Remember to watch the livestream! I specifically paid for promotion. I’m really looking forward to what happens next.” The group chat fell silent for a while, then another Twitter screenshot was posted. “This life, this person.” The accompanying image showed two marriage certificates. Hendley’s friend was confused and immediately @mentioned Hendley. “Hendley, didn’t you say she burned the fake certificate in a rage? What’s this about?” But the message went unanswered for a long time. At that moment, Hendley was driving his fastest sports car at full speed toward the wedding venue. It’s just a ceremony, right? If she wants it, he’ll give it to her. It’s not that big a deal. The certificate wasn’t officially registered anyway, so it wouldn’t violate his promise to Cruz. He rushed to the wedding. The ceremony had just begun. Good, he wasn’t late. Hendley pulled out the wedding ring he’d prepared from his pocket. On a whim, he’d stopped by a jewelry store on the way. It turned out the dimensions of her fingers were already engraved in his heart. Cruz, sitting in the audience, looked a bit green. Hundreds of thousands of people flooded into the livestream. All clamoring to see who was so shameless as to throw themselves at someone. Now Hendley was the first one standing on stage. The wedding march began playing. Hendley looked expectantly toward the end of the red carpet, but the person in the wedding dress still hadn’t appeared. The MC picked up the microphone. “Miss Billson welcomes everyone to this event. Please first watch a video.” Event? Hendley felt an inexplicable strangeness. Maybe it was just an unprofessional MC hired at the last minute. He shifted his gaze to the screen. After just one second, the world spun before his eyes.

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The groom Sebastian lifted my veil in front of everyone at the wedding. After seeing my face clearly, he threw his wine glass on the spot, saying I wasn’t the person he was supposed to marry. He was furious: “Who are you! I’m supposed to marry Swift, what the hell are you! Someone, drag this impostor out of here!” The guests whispered among themselves. I looked at Sebastian: “Are you sure you want to marry Swift?” He sneered: “I’m only forming an alliance with the Taylor family!” He didn’t know his marriage contract specified the eldest daughter of the Taylor family. And Swift, the one he couldn’t stop thinking about, was my younger sister. “What does any of this prove?” Sebastian looked at me. I picked up the marriage certificate from the table, flipped to the second page, and held the words facing his direction. “Eldest daughter of the Taylor family—that was drafted by your Dulles family. See for yourself.” He glanced down, his throat bobbing, but said nothing. The best man beside him leaned over to look and muttered quietly: “Sebastian, it really does say eldest daughter of the Taylor family.” “Shut up.” Sebastian slammed the marriage certificate on the table. “The eldest daughter of the Taylor family is Swift. You’re impersonating someone and trying to use technicalities to save face?” I pulled out a document. “Eldest daughter of Rivers Taylor, Russell, born March 1998. Second daughter of Rivers Taylor, Swift, born November 2000.” I handed the document to him. “I’m the eldest daughter. Swift is the second daughter.” The banquet hall fell silent for three seconds. Sebastian’s mother Rudy walked onto the stage with her handbag, took the document, glanced at it, then looked at me. “Young lady, your name is Russell?” “Yes.” “I don’t care who you are. This marriage was personally arranged between me and Mrs. Taylor. Sebastian is marrying Swift.” “You discussed this with my stepmother?” “Yes.” “Did you confirm it with my father?” Rudy’s smile faded slightly: “Your father gave your stepmother full authority.” “But the marriage certificate bears my father’s personal seal.” I pointed at the page. “One is a verbal promise, the other is a sealed document. Rudy, after all your years in business, you should know which one counts, right?” Rudy’s expression changed. Sebastian glanced at his mother and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Rivers and ask him directly.” The call connected and he put it on speaker. “Rivers, this is Sebastian. The marriage certificate says eldest daughter of the Taylor family—that refers to Swift, right?” There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. I gripped the notarized document tightly. “Sebastian.” My father’s voice sounded tired. “This marriage, I arranged it with you for Swift.” Scattered murmurs rose from the guests. Sebastian’s lips curved into a smile. My father continued: “Russell grew up away from home, she’s not close to the family. I don’t know how she ended up at the wedding. Sebastian, don’t hold it against her. I’ll have her stepmother pick her up.” “You hear that?” Sebastian put away his phone and looked down at me. “Your own father doesn’t support what you’re saying. Are you still going to stand here embarrassing yourself?” Someone in the audience laughed. I didn’t look at those people. I stared into Sebastian’s eyes. “I heard my dad say this marriage was arranged for Swift. But he didn’t explain one thing.” “What thing?” “Why does the marriage certificate say eldest daughter of the Taylor family instead of Swift?” He paused. “It was written wrong.” “A document with a personal seal was written wrong?” I let out a laugh. “Sebastian, you’re in real estate. Would you dare sign a contract if the name on it was wrong?” He didn’t answer. The air was tense for a few seconds, then the side door of the banquet hall opened. A woman walked in, her eyes already red from a distance. My stepmother, Harrison. She hurried onto the stage and grabbed my hand: “Russell, how did you end up here? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” I pulled my hand back. Her eyes flickered, then she immediately turned to the Dulles mother and son, bowing repeatedly: “Rudy, Sebastian, I’m so sorry. This girl didn’t grow up with us, she’s distant from the family. What happened today is my fault for not keeping better watch over her.” Rudy’s expression softened slightly. Harrison turned back to me: “Russell, let’s go. I’ll take you home. This isn’t your place.” I looked at the emerald green jade bracelet on her wrist. That was my mother’s dowry. “Harrison.” I called her name. Her eyebrow twitched. “The marriage certificate says eldest daughter of the Taylor family—was that my father’s decision, or did you make it for him?” “That’s your father’s business, how would I control that?” “You can’t control it, but you told Rudy the bride would be Swift. Do you dare say that again in front of the marriage certificate?” She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Rudy stepped forward: “Alright, as long as Mrs. Taylor is here. Take her away. Our family won’t pursue this matter today.” “Won’t pursue?” I put away the notarized document and spoke unhurriedly. “Rudy, have you looked at clause seven of the marriage certificate?” All eyes fell on me. I enunciated each word: “The party in breach must compensate the other family thirty percent of their assets.” Dead silence filled the hall. Sebastian whipped his head around to look at the marriage certificate. “This clause—did you not notice it, or did you never intend to honor it?”

“You’re talking to me about breach penalties?” Sebastian stared at me. I glanced at him but didn’t respond. Because I didn’t need to. Of the guests present, at least twenty were businesspeople. They were already whispering among themselves. They knew better than I did how big the Dulles family’s real estate empire was. Thirty percent, calculated by market value, was enough to build half a new city. Rudy snatched the marriage certificate and flipped to clause seven. Her face turned white inch by inch. “Did you add this clause?” Her voice went shrill. “I’m just someone marrying in. How would I have the authority to modify the marriage certificate?” I tilted my head slightly. “This was written when both families signed the agreement. Both seals are on it. If Rudy wants to investigate, ask who in your family reviewed it.” Rudy turned to look at a middle-aged man beside her. The man flipped through documents and said quietly: “This was signed between Maximiliano when he was alive and the Taylor family. I wasn’t present at the time.” Maximiliano—Sebastian’s grandfather, the late head of the Dulles family. Sebastian’s fist clenched and unclenched. “Take her to the back.” He didn’t look at me, his voice very low. “We’ll discuss this after the wedding ends.” Two security guards in black suits approached. I didn’t resist. I knew that forcing the issue on Dulles family territory would be meaningless. I’d already shown the cards I needed to. The rest was a matter of time. I was taken to a lounge behind the banquet hall. The door locked from the outside. On the table sat an unopened bottle of water and an untouched plate of pastries. I unwrapped a candy and put it in my mouth. Too sweet, sweet to the point of bitterness. My phone vibrated. A FaceTime invitation on WhatsApp from Swift. I hesitated for two seconds, then answered. On the screen, Swift sat in her bedroom, hair falling over her shoulders, smiling at the camera. “Russell, thanks for your hard work.” “How does it feel being locked up? Does that room have air conditioning? Sebastian hates the cold, the Dulles family always keeps the heat on high.” “You called just to ask if I’m cold?” “Of course not.” She tilted her head. “I wanted to tell you personally that everything today was arranged by me from beginning to end.” I said nothing. She continued: “Dad originally wanted to write Swift on the marriage certificate. But you know, Maximiliano insisted on specifying the eldest daughter before he died. Dad had no choice, so he wrote eldest daughter of the Taylor family.” “But he told Mom that I would still be the one getting married.” “Now guess whose idea it was to have you play the bride first, knowing you’d naturally be rejected by the Dulles family at the wedding?” My throat tightened. She smiled and leaned closer to the camera: “Mine.” “Swift.” “Don’t be angry, Russell.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You know Sebastian only has eyes for me. Even if you cling there with the marriage certificate, he’ll never touch you. Eventually you’ll live alone in that huge Dulles mansion with no one to talk to. How is that different from house arrest?” “Rather than that, why not sign the papers and step aside? You back down, I marry in, everyone’s happy.” “When you say step aside, do you mean you step aside or me?” “You step aside for me, of course.” She said it as if it were obvious. “Russell, you grew up away from home. The Taylor family’s resources, connections, business—I’ve been managing all of it these years. Marrying into the Dulles family is what I deserve.” She raised her left hand to adjust her hair. The string of emerald green jade beads on her wrist flashed across the camera. I recognized it. That was the last thing my mother kept. Dad said that jade bracelet was left to my mother by my maternal grandmother. Mom said before she passed that it should go to her eldest daughter. “Swift, that bracelet on your wrist belonged to my mother.” She looked down at her wrist and smiled. “This? Dad gave it to me. He said there’s no eldest daughter in the family, I’m the oldest.” “His exact words were there’s no eldest daughter in the family?” “Yeah,” she said, tilting her head. “In his heart, you don’t count anymore.” “Happy, Russell? This is my welcome gift to you. Everything your mother left is with me now. If you don’t believe me, come home someday and look around. There’s nothing left.” My hands were trembling slightly, but I didn’t hang up. “Swift, the things you told Sebastian about your childhood—were those your experiences, or mine?” The smile on the screen froze for a beat. “What do you mean?” “I left the Taylor house with my grandmother when I was six and grew up in Los Angeles. You told Sebastian you lived in Los Angeles as a child, didn’t you?” She didn’t answer. “You even showed him childhood photos from Los Angeles. Two little braids, wearing a red dress, standing at the pier.” “The person in that photo was me.” Swift on the video was silent for two seconds. Then she laughed. “Yes, those photos were yours. So what? Sebastian likes the story behind the photos, not your face.” “And that story is mine now.” “Russell, even standing in front of him with the marriage certificate, do you think he sees you, or the shadow of someone else in his mind?”

“Russell, what exactly will it take for you to sign?” The door opened from outside. Sebastian walked in. He’d changed out of his wedding suit and wore a black shirt. He held a new document in his hand, twice as thick as the one the lawyer brought earlier. “One million dollars.” He tossed the document on the table in front of me. “Plus a downtown apartment, the deed in your name. You sign, you leave, and after that the business between the Taylor and Dulles families has nothing to do with you.” From five hundred thousand to one million plus an apartment. That breach penalty clause really did make him panic. “Before you came, did your mother show you clause seven of the marriage certificate?” The corner of his mouth twitched: “You think I’m here to negotiate?” “What else?” “I’m here to inform you.” He bent down, hands on the table, eye level with me. “Russell, don’t overestimate your position.” “You’re a Taylor daughter who’s been eating cold leftovers for twenty years. No backing, no connections. You’ve got a marriage certificate you don’t even know how you got, and you want to sue the entire Dulles family?” “Can you afford it?” I leaned back in my chair. “You should ask your legal team that question. If the Dulles family really wasn’t concerned, why would you be sitting here?” His gaze turned cold. “I’m sitting here to give you one last chance to leave with dignity.” He stood up straight and pulled up a photo on his phone, turning the screen toward me. In the photo, he and Swift stood on a yacht deck. She leaned on his shoulder smiling, his arm around her waist. “Two years.” His voice deepened. “Swift and I have been together for two years. She’s been looked down on in the Taylor family since childhood, carrying the family business alone. She’s had it much harder than you.” “She’s the one I’m marrying. It can’t be anyone else.” I didn’t look at the pose in the photo. I looked at what Swift wore around her neck. An emerald green teardrop-shaped pendant. My back tensed immediately. That was my mother’s relic. The only piece of jewelry she had with photographic evidence. I’d turned the house upside down looking for it, thinking it had been sold or lost long ago. It had been hanging around Swift’s neck all along. “That necklace she’s wearing—do you know where it came from?” Sebastian frowned: “It’s hers. Why?” “It was my mother’s.” “Your mother’s?” His expression looked like he’d heard a joke. “Swift said it was passed down from her grandmother.” “Her grandmother? Harrison’s family ran a clothing wholesale business. Since when did they have heirloom jade?” He was silent for a second. “Russell, are you done?” He put his phone back in his pocket, his patience completely gone. “First you say there’s a problem with the marriage certificate, then with the family register, and now even a necklace has to be traced back to your mother. Just how much are you going to claim as yours?” I was about to speak when the door opened again. Swift pushed in. The moment she saw Sebastian, her eyes turned red. “Sebastian, don’t be angry about this anymore. Russell probably just wanted to marry you so badly, she panicked.” She turned to look at me: “Russell, I don’t blame you. You grew up alone away from home with no one to care for you. Anyone would feel resentful.” Sebastian’s gaze softened noticeably. He reached out and held Swift’s hand: “Don’t upset yourself.” Swift shook her head and walked over to crouch in front of me. Her voice was only audible to the two of us. “Russell, just sign. You can’t win.” “What do you think?” She smiled and stood up, returning to Sebastian’s side. “Sebastian, why don’t you step out. Let me talk to Russell.” Sebastian glanced at me and said “ten minutes” before turning and leaving. The door closed. Not a trace of vulnerability remained on Swift’s face. She walked to the window, opened her bag, and touched up her lipstick. “Russell, I suggest you don’t make this too ugly. Dad will be here soon.” “What’s he coming for?” “To clean up my mess. His eldest daughter made a scene at the Dulles family wedding—he has to come give an explanation.” “When did I make a scene?” “Not signing is making a scene.” She smiled. “In Dad’s eyes, everything you’ve done since childhood has been making a scene.” She put away her bag and turned to leave. When she reached the door, her phone slipped from her bag and fell on the carpet by the door. She didn’t notice. The door was pulled shut by security from outside. The phone’s screen was lit. A message popped up. I looked down at it. The sender’s display name was a heart symbol followed by: Jackson. The message was just one sentence: “Honey, don’t worry about the baby, I’ll handle it.”

“Dad.” I stood in the lounge looking at the man who’d pushed the door open. Rivers Taylor wore a dark gray suit. Harrison followed behind him. The two walked in side by side, like partners who’d worked together for years. I remembered when I was little, the day he sent me to my grandmother’s. He crouched down, touched my head, and said Dad will come get you soon. I was six that year. I waited fifteen years. Until a month ago when he suddenly called telling me to come back, saying he’d arranged a marriage for me. “Do you know what you did today?” He stopped three steps away from me. “I married into the match you arranged for me. The marriage certificate says eldest daughter of the Taylor family—that’s me.” “Ridiculous!” He slammed his hand on the cabinet beside him. “I already told you clearly on the phone! This marriage was arranged for Swift! What are you doing here!” “Then why did you write eldest daughter of the Taylor family on the marriage certificate? Why not write Swift’s name directly?” He froze. Harrison spoke at an opportune moment: “At the time, Maximiliano insisted on following ancient protocol. Your father couldn’t argue, so he wrote it his way. But both families understood the bride would be Swift.” Such smooth words, pushing all problems onto an old man who was no longer alive. “Was the breach penalty in clause seven also Maximiliano’s idea?” Harrison didn’t respond. Rivers Taylor frowned at me: “Don’t think you can strong-arm the Dulles family with a piece of paper. With Sebastian’s temper, if you push him an inch, he’ll make you lose ten times over.” “That’s my business.” “Your business?” His voice rose. “Since childhood, when have you ever been able to handle your own business? Your education was paid for by the Taylor family. Your food, clothing, everything—all Taylor family. What gives you the right to fight with the Dulles family?” “You sent me away. You called me back.” “You told me to marry. I married. Now you say it shouldn’t be me.” “Rivers Taylor, what exactly do you want me to do?” I called him by his full name. His face flushed red. “What did you call me?” “I called you by your name. Since you don’t acknowledge me as your daughter, don’t blame me for not acknowledging you as my father.” The room fell silent. Harrison stepped forward and grabbed Rivers Taylor’s arm: “She has the same temperament as her mother. The more you reason with her, the more stubborn she gets. Better let Swift persuade her.” Same temperament as her mother—that cut deeper than anything else. Because my mother couldn’t stay in this family because of that temperament. “Russell.” Rivers Taylor took a deep breath. “I’m telling you one last time. Sign the papers, go back to Los Angeles. I’ll give you money. You can do whatever you want after that.” “If you don’t sign, you’re no longer part of the Taylor family.” “Why should I sign? The marriage certificate is valid, the family register has my name. Once we walk out that door and go to court, the law is on my side.” He looked at me. That look—not at a daughter, but at someone in his way. He turned and said something to Harrison. Harrison nodded and walked to the door to say a few words to someone outside. Then the door opened. More than a dozen guests poured in, all relatives and friends of the Taylor and Dulles families. They stood on both sides, looking me over. “Rivers Taylor.” Rudy also walked in. “Are you going to control this Russell girl of yours or not?” “Tell everyone clearly whose marriage this is supposed to be.” Rivers Taylor turned around, facing everyone, then looked at me. “I, Rivers Taylor, am putting this on record today.” He began speaking. “This marriage was arranged between me and the late Maximiliano for Swift. Russell is my eldest daughter, that’s true, but she didn’t grow up with us. She no longer has any connection to the Taylor family.” “Her actions today are her own doing. The Taylor family bears no responsibility.” The guests nodded. The reasoning all seemed to be on his side. “Fine, Rivers Taylor. You say I have no connection to the Taylor family.” I held up the notarized document. “Your signature and fingerprint on this document aren’t even dry yet. Tell me, will a judge believe your words or your seal?” His gaze tightened sharply. Then, the next second, he walked toward me. I thought he was going to grab the document. I didn’t dodge. His hand didn’t reach for the document. That slap landed squarely on my face. The force was enough to turn my whole body half a step. My ankle twisted in the high heel. No one in the room made a sound. Harrison covered her mouth, making a shocked expression. Rivers Taylor’s hand was shaking. “If you keep causing trouble, a slap won’t be all you get.” I slowly steadied myself, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. Swift had somehow appeared at the doorway too. She rushed forward and grabbed Rivers Taylor’s arm: “Dad, stop hitting Russell. She’s just immature. Please calm down.” I kept my head down, my eyes on the notarized document I’d crumpled in my hand on the floor. Swift walked to my side and bent down. Her voice was only audible to me: “Russell, still not signing?” I didn’t look at her. I was looking at the last screenshot in my phone’s photo album. The one I’d taken of the message on her phone screen ten minutes ago. Jackson: Honey, don’t worry about the baby, I’ll handle it. I slowly straightened up. Raised my head to look at the room full of Taylor family members, Dulles family members, all kinds of onlookers. “I won’t sign. And I have something I want to ask Swift in front of everyone.” Swift’s smile froze. “Swift, who is Jackson?”

“Russell, what are you talking about?” Swift’s voice was half an octave higher than usual. I ignored her. I opened my phone, enlarged the screenshot, and held the screen facing the room. “Jackson, with a heart symbol before his name in the contact. Message sent fifteen minutes ago: ‘Honey, don’t worry about the baby, I’ll handle it.’” I looked at Sebastian. “This message is from Swift’s phone.” The room fell deathly silent. Sebastian’s gaze moved from my phone screen to Swift’s face. “Swift?” “Sebastian!” Swift’s eyes immediately turned red. She grabbed his sleeve. “She photoshopped it! It’s fake! She’s just trying to break us up!” “Photoshopped?” I placed my phone on the table. “Your phone is in this room. You can open it yourself and let everyone see your chat history.” Swift’s face went pale. Her eyes quickly scanned the floor and table corners. I filled in for her: “Your phone is behind the cabinet by the door. It slipped out of your bag when you left.” Sebastian walked over, bent down, and picked up the phone with the pink case from behind the cabinet. “Sebastian, that’s my phone, you can’t look at it!” He ignored her. The fingerprint unlock didn’t work. He looked up: “Password.” Swift bit her lower lip. “What’s the password?” “Sebastian, you have to trust me.” Her voice began to shake. “This is all a trap she set! She just wants to make you doubt me!” “Tell me the password.” “I won’t.” Rivers Taylor’s expression also changed. He frowned at Swift: “Swift, let him look. If you’re innocent, what does it matter if he sees?” Harrison quickly tugged at her husband’s arm, giving him a look. Rivers Taylor’s frown deepened. “Swift.” His tone grew heavier. “Give Sebastian the password.” “Dad!” “Tell him.” Swift’s lips trembled. “You’re all forcing me. You’re all forcing me.” She suddenly crouched on the floor, covering her face with both hands and crying. “What did I do wrong? Why are you treating me like this?” This trick worked well. Every time she was backed into a corner, she cried. It was the same at home before. As soon as she cried, Rivers Taylor would soften. I looked at Rivers Taylor. Sure enough, his resolve was already wavering. “Forget it, it’s just one message. It’s probably a misunderstanding.” He said vaguely. “Rivers Taylor.” I spoke up. “You slapped me because you said I was causing trouble. Now your daughter is asked one question and won’t even let anyone see her phone. Who do you think is causing trouble?” His mouth opened but no words came out. Sebastian stood there, gripping the pink phone. He looked at Swift for a long moment, then turned to the security guard behind him without a word. “Call Arnold from tech.” Swift’s crying stopped abruptly. “Sebastian!” “If you won’t give me the password, I’ll have someone unlock it.” His voice had no inflection, yet it was colder than any shout. “If you’re really innocent, what are you afraid of?” Ten minutes later, a young man wearing black-framed glasses sat at the table with a laptop, connecting Swift’s phone with a data cable. During the unlocking process, Swift tried three times to rush over and grab the phone. Each time she was stopped. The screen lit up. Arnold opened WhatsApp and searched for contacts with heart symbols in their names. The chat history appeared. I didn’t look at the content. Because Sebastian’s expression already told me everything I needed to know. He scrolled up message by message, very slowly. No one in the room spoke. When he reached a certain message, his thumb stopped. He was silent for ten seconds, then locked the screen. “Everyone out.” His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. “Sebastian?” Rudy called out tentatively. “I said, everyone out.” Rudy glanced at him and led the crowd out. As Harrison pulled Rivers Taylor toward the door, Rivers Taylor looked back at Swift. Swift stood in the corner, her lips blue. The door closed. Only three people remained in the room. Me, Sebastian, Swift. He kept his back to us. His shoulders were as steady as a wall, but the phone case in his right hand had one corner broken off. “Three months.” He finally spoke. “The chat history starts from three months ago. That was when you were telling me you were working overtime.” Swift’s voice was as thin as a mosquito’s: “Sebastian, I can explain.” “Jackson. Mario’s son from Mario Group.” He slowly turned around. “My bidding competitor. What’s your relationship with him?” Tears fell from Swift’s eyes. “He, he’s just a friend of mine.” “A friend? What did he mean about the baby?” “I don’t know. He wasn’t talking about me. You misunderstood.” “Swift.” He walked up to her and held the phone screen in front of her eyes. “Message forty-seven. Read it yourself.” Swift’s body froze. I didn’t know what that message said, but Swift’s expression said it all.Sebastian slammed the phone on the table. He looked at me, his gaze tangled like a hundred knots. “The breach penalty clause in the marriage certificate—what exactly do you want?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392426”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On the red carpet of the Starlight Awards, my agent ripped off my haute couture shawl in front of millions of live viewers. She pointed at a sweaty delivery driver outside the security barrier. “Let me share some hot gossip, everyone—this scruffy delivery guy is Gianna’s boyfriend!” Camera flashes exploded like crazy. Reporters swarmed toward me like sharks smelling blood. “A wholesome actress dating a delivery driver? How pathetic!” My agent hid behind the cameras, digging her nails hard into my arm. “That’s what you get for stealing Fiona’s lead role at the audition. She’s been so upset she can’t even eat. Consider today’s public humiliation your lesson.” “She has depression. What’s wrong with letting her have the role?” “Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. Once you go viral from this scandal, the company will release a statement to clear your name.” I looked at the screen flooded with “Gianna should die” comments and laughed coldly. Facing countless cameras, I walked over to that delivery driver and took the takeout box from his hands. “That’s right. This is my husband.” My agent had no idea that this delivery driver was Sebastian Cole, the most powerful capital titan in the industry, conducting undercover market research for his investments. ……

“Gianna, have you lost your mind!” Agent Lisa’s shriek nearly pierced my eardrums. “Look at this yourself! Trending number one! #GiannasBoyfriendIsADeliveryDriver# — it’s exploding!” “The company phones are ringing off the hook. All your endorsements want to terminate their contracts!” “Do you know how much your penalty fees will be? You couldn’t pay them back even if you sold yourself!” I ignored her, just turning my head to look out the window. The man I’d called my “husband,” Sebastian Cole, sat quietly beside me. He still wore that yellow delivery uniform, sweat still beading on his forehead. He wasn’t checking his phone or saying anything, just unscrewing a bottle of water to hand to me. “You still have the nerve to drink water?” Lisa snatched the bottle away and hurled it at the car door. “Let me tell you, Gianna—you’re done. Completely done!” “Fiona says she wants you to disappear from this industry entirely!” I finally turned to look at her. “Lisa, you’ve been with me for three years.” “These three years, seventy percent of the money I earned went into the company’s pocket, and ten percent went into yours.” “I bought you bags, bought gifts for your parents. I treated you like my own sister.” “Just because I earned a lead role on my own merit, you’re going to destroy me like this?” Lisa froze for a moment, then sneered. “Sister? Gianna, don’t be so naive.” “What are you? Just a dog the company raised.” “Fiona is different—her uncle is a major shareholder in the company.” “By stealing her role, you cut off her career path. Of course I had to help you ‘wake up.’” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a malicious whisper. “Are you actually dating a delivery guy? Don’t you know a singer got torn apart online for dating a farmer!” “Is he just really good in bed? Does he satisfy you that well?” I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. Clear and loud. The car fell instantly silent. Lisa held her cheek, staring at me in disbelief. I shook out my stinging hand. “That slap was payback for when you grabbed me earlier. As for the rest, we’ll settle that slowly.” Sebastian, who’d been silent the whole time, suddenly moved, a slight smile curving his lips. He gently pulled me behind him, then looked down at Lisa: “Which company are you from?” Lisa laughed as if she’d heard the world’s funniest joke. “Oh? A delivery driver daring to use that tone with me?” “What, you planning to cause trouble at our company? Let me tell you, our company is Starlight Entertainment. Someone like you can’t even get through the front door!” Sebastian nodded and pulled out his old smartphone, dialing a number. “Hello, it’s me. The company is called Starlight Entertainment. Fifteen minutes. I don’t want to hear that name again.” Someone on the other end said something. Sebastian made an affirmative sound and hung up. Lisa laughed until tears came out. “Go ahead, keep acting!” “Fifteen minutes? Who do you think you are? The President of the United States or the Prime Minister of the UK?” “A stinking delivery driver putting on airs!” The driver stopped the car in front of my apartment building. Lisa yanked the car door open. “Gianna, the company has decided to freeze all your activities effective immediately. Legal will send you the termination contracts as soon as possible. Take care of yourself.” She finished speaking, slammed the car door, and left. Only Sebastian and I remained in the car. I looked at my phone flooded with curses and mockery, suddenly feeling exhausted. Five years in the industry, I’d been careful and cautious, walking on thin ice. And this is how it ended. “Do you regret it?” Sebastian’s voice was gentle. I shook my head, leaning against his somewhat broad shoulder. “No regrets.” “Just a little hungry.” He took the food container from my hands and opened it. Various types of sushi. I loved Japanese food. He handed me a fork. “Eat up. No matter how busy work gets, you have to eat on time.” I buried my head and started eating in big bites. But tears fell. Sebastian didn’t try to comfort me, just clumsily patted my back. I’d known him for three months. That day I failed an audition and was publicly humiliated by the director. I sat alone on the side of the road crying. He rode by on his bicycle, stopped, and handed me a pack of tissues and a sandwich. He said: “There’s no obstacle you can’t overcome. You need to eat before you have the energy to cry.” After that, he came to deliver lunch to me every day. Rain or shine. A month ago, I got drunk and grabbed him to ask. “Sebastian, would you dare marry me?” He looked at me and nodded very seriously. “I dare.” The next day, we went to get our marriage certificate. No wedding, no ring, just a marriage certificate. I thought I was being ridiculous. But in that moment, I felt an unprecedented sense of security. I finished the last bite of food. My phone rang. It was Lisa. Her voice was full of terror and trembling. “Gianna… Gianna, check the news!” “The company… the company went bankrupt!” “Just now, it was acquired by a company called ‘Universal Capital.’ All the shareholders were kicked out!” “The boss jumped off a building!”

I hung up the phone. Downstairs at my apartment building, reporters had already swarmed. Camera flashes went crazy, aimed at Sebastian and me. “Gianna, are you and this gentleman really married?” “There are rumors that Starlight Entertainment’s bankruptcy is related to you. Is that true?” “Did you already know your husband’s true identity, so you dared to do that on the red carpet?” Each question was sharper than the last. I was pushed and nearly lost my footing. Sebastian pulled me into his arms. His not-particularly-tall frame now felt like a mountain. In his accented English, he said to all the reporters, word by word: “I am Gianna’s husband, Sebastian Cole.” “Whatever she does, I will support her.” “As for Starlight Entertainment, they brought it on themselves.” “Anyone who dares to bully my wife will pay the price.” His words were simple and direct, even somewhat crude. But they instantly calmed my heart. In the crowd, I saw Fiona. She wore exquisite makeup and an expensive gown, her face full of malice as she stared at me. Standing next to her was a middle-aged man in a suit—her uncle, Starlight’s former shareholder. “Gianna, you bitch!” Fiona rushed toward me, trying to hit me. Sebastian blocked me, catching her wrist. “It’s you?” Fiona’s uncle saw Sebastian and his face went deathly pale. His legs went weak and he nearly fell to his knees. “Mr…. Mr. Cole?” Sebastian released Fiona and glanced at him coolly. “Mr. Walker, long time no see.” “You’ve raised your niece well.” Mr. Walker was drenched in sweat, stammering explanations. “Mr. Cole, it’s a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding!” “I didn’t know Miss Gianna was your…” “She’s my wife.” Sebastian interrupted him, his voice not loud but absolutely firm. The entire scene fell silent. All the reporters forgot to press their shutters. Fiona was stunned too, staring blankly at Sebastian. This rough-looking man who in her eyes only deserved to deliver food. Was actually the “Mr. Cole” her uncle had to bow and scrape to. “From today on, I don’t want to see these two people in the industry again.” Sebastian finished speaking, pulled me along, parted the crowd, and walked into the apartment building. Behind us were Mr. Walker’s and Fiona’s desperate cries. Back home, I finally couldn’t help asking him. “Sebastian, who exactly are you?” He took off that yellow delivery uniform, revealing the white dress shirt underneath. The shirt was a bit wrinkled, but clean. He scratched his head, smiling a bit sheepishly. “My name is Sebastian Cole, founder of Universal Capital.” “I was delivering food before to research the local food delivery market.” “I’m sorry, honey. I kept it from you this whole time.” I looked at him, not knowing what to say. The number one capital titan in the industry. A regular on the Forbes list. The legendary mysterious and low-profile Universal Capital CEO who never appeared in public. Was my husband. That delivery driver who brought me dinner every day, riding a bicycle. This was more bizarre than any movie script. “So you bought out Starlight just because they bullied me?” He nodded, his expression like a child who’d done something right, waiting for my praise. “They made you unhappy.” “I don’t want my wife to be wronged.” I suddenly laughed. Laughing and laughing, I cried. I walked over and hugged him. “Sebastian, you big liar.” His body stiffened, then he carefully hugged me back. “Honey, don’t cry. From now on, no one will dare bully you.”

The next day, the entire entertainment industry was rocked. #UniversalCapitalCEOSebastianColeIsMarried #SebastianColesWifeIsActressGianna #Starlight EntertainmentBankruptcyInsideStory Internet users who’d been cursing me to “get out of entertainment” yesterday did a complete 180. “Holy shit! What kind of fairy tale romance is this! A CEO goes undercover and falls for a struggling actress?” “No wonder Gianna dared to stand her ground on the red carpet—she had backup!” “Hey upstairs, Gianna isn’t struggling—she’s really talented, just suppressed by her company!” “That girl Fiona deserves it! Stealing someone’s role and then playing victim!” My phone was about to explode. Major directors, producers, and brands all sent messages, asking after my wellbeing. Their attitudes were completely different from when I was blacklisted. I didn’t reply to a single one. I was in the kitchen, learning how to make sweet and sour pork from Sebastian. He wore a pink cartoon apron, clumsily cutting meat. “Honey, don’t touch anything—the fumes is bad. I’ll handle it.” He pushed me out of the kitchen. I leaned against the doorframe watching his busy figure. This man who commanded respect in the business world was now flustered trying to cook me a meal. Sunlight streamed through the window onto him, warm and bright. I picked up my phone and captured this moment. Then I posted on Twitter. [@GiannaV: My husband, Sebastian Cole. @UniversalCapitalSebastianCole [Image]] In the photo, no designer brands, no luxury cars—just a man in an apron, his back to the camera as he cooked for me in the kitchen. As soon as I posted, the comments section exploded. “Aaaah what kind of fairy tale husband is this! I’m so jealous!” “This is what real wealth looks like—not throwing money around, but loving with your heart.” “Gianna, you have to be happy!” Sebastian’s phone kept ringing too. He hurriedly wiped his hands and answered. “Hello, Assistant Johnson, what is it?” “What? Twitter?” He hung up and looked at me nervously. “Honey, did I cause you trouble?” “Will my identity being exposed affect your career?” I shook my head and walked over, hugging him from behind. “No.” “Sebastian, thank you.” Thank you for giving me a home when I was at my most vulnerable. Thank you for standing firmly by my side when the whole world abandoned me. Dinner was ready: roast chicken with mashed potatoes, a Caesar salad, and creamy tomato soup. All my favorites. We sat at the small dining table like the most ordinary couple, eating together. The TV was playing financial news. “According to reports, Universal Capital recently completed its acquisition of Starlight Entertainment and conducted large-scale business restructuring. Former Starlight artist Fiona and her uncle Mr. Walker have been placed under investigation by police for suspected commercial fraud and unfair competition…” I watched the news, my heart completely calm. Those who do evil will eventually face punishment. “Honey, about that lead role in ‘Palace Walls’—I already spoke with the director.” Sebastian put a piece of pork on my plate. “They’ll hold another audition tomorrow and invite you to participate.” ‘Palace Walls’ was the role Fiona had stolen from me. An S+ tier major production that every actress in the industry was eyeing. I’d earned the female lead on my own merit, standing out from dozens of candidates. But because I blocked Fiona’s path, Lisa had set me up. “No need.” I shook my head. Sebastian froze. “Why? Don’t you really like that script?” “Yeah, I like it.” I looked at him very seriously. “But I don’t want to get a role through your connections.” “Sebastian, I want to earn my place in front of the camera through my own abilities.” “Not have people say I got it because I’m the wife of Universal Capital’s CEO.” Sebastian was silent for a long time. He stared at me, then suddenly smiled. Light shone in those eyes that were always narrowed. “Okay.” “My wife is already the best.” “Then we won’t do that one. I’ll invest in a new production, custom-made just for you, okay?” I couldn’t help laughing. “Mr. Cole, that’s abuse of power for personal gain.” “Is that not allowed?” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “For my wife, anything goes.”

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I’m a child my parents adopted from an orphanage. They treated me well. Every night before bed, I would pray, begging God not to send me back to the orphanage. Then Mom got pregnant with a baby. I hid under my blanket and cried all night, quietly packing the small suitcase I’d arrived with. But they didn’t send me away. Instead, they treated me even better. The day my brother was born, Mom held my hand and gently stroked my head. “Lily, now you’ll have a little brother to keep you company!” Dad lifted me above his head, spinning around happily. “You’re our family’s lucky star, the most precious treasure to Mom and Dad!” I finally stopped living in constant fear, thinking I’d truly become part of this family. Until that day, when my brother broke my beloved astronaut model. I got so angry that I pushed him. He stumbled and sat down on the floor, bursting into tears. Mom panicked instantly. She shoved me aside and pulled my brother into her arms, asking him over and over if he was hurt. Dad rushed over, gripping my shoulders and pinning me against the wall. His eyes were frighteningly red. “Lily! After raising you all these years, you actually bully your brother? Believe it or not, I’ll send you back right now—”

“Nathan!” Mom stopped him, and Dad’s words remained unfinished. But I already understood. The kids at the orphanage were right. Children like us who were adopted—once the family has their own kids, we’ll eventually be sent back. I was too foolish, thinking I’d be the special one. I bit my lip and said nothing, watching as Mom and Dad comforted my brother and left. The sound of the door closing was soft, but it landed on my heart like a stone, causing sharp pain. I thought I would cry, but my eyes were dry. Nothing came out. I just stood in the living room for a long time, then returned to my room and dragged out that small suitcase from under the bed. Five years ago, I’d come to this home with that very suitcase. I was still very young then, too young to remember what the orphanage looked like. I only remembered Mom crouching down to look at me, her eyes bright, asking, “Would you like to come home with me?” I nodded, and she smiled—a smile more beautiful than anyone’s at the orphanage. But just now, there was no smile in her eyes. When she left holding my brother’s hand, she didn’t even look back at me. Dad didn’t either. I knew they must really be planning to send me back. Rather than wait for them to say it, I might as well take the initiative myself. That way at least… it wouldn’t be too humiliating. I could tell the kids at the orphanage, “They didn’t abandon me. I chose to come back myself.” Though they probably wouldn’t believe me. I gently brushed the dust off the suitcase, pulled open the somewhat rusty zipper, and began packing. I started with some clothes. My favorite pink dress, the sweater Mom knitted last year, and that slightly pilled red scarf… I folded them neatly and placed them in the suitcase. I didn’t dare take too much, afraid they’d think I was too greedy. Then toys. I hesitated for a long time and finally took only two things: a gray stuffed rabbit and a plastic star necklace. The stuffed rabbit was what Mom had tucked into my arms on my first night in this home. She’d said, “Let it sleep with you, and you won’t be scared.” It was already worn and tattered, with one ear crooked. But it was the first gift I’d received in this home. I couldn’t bear to leave it behind. The star necklace was something Dad brought back from a business trip. It even had my name engraved on it. Finally, I took a family photo. It was taken shortly after I first came to this home five years ago. In the photo, I was held between Mom and Dad, smiling so hard my eyes disappeared. I carefully wrapped the frame in the sweater and placed it in the middle of the clothes. That way, when I missed them, I could look at it. After packing everything, I closed the suitcase and zipped it up. The suitcase was heavier than when I’d arrived. I tested lifting it—I could barely manage. Outside, the sky had turned completely dark. I sat on the suitcase, quietly waiting for Mom and Dad to come home. When they returned, if they really wanted to send me away, I would say, “Okay, I’ve already packed.” What if they wanted me to stay? If they kept me, I’d put the suitcase back and pretend nothing had happened. Seven o’clock. Eight o’clock. Nine o’clock. They still hadn’t come back. Were they deliberately giving me time to leave on my own? Perhaps I should be more tactful… At 9:05, I stood up and took one last look at my room. On the desk lay unfinished homework. On the bed was the blanket Mom had aired out just yesterday, still carrying the scent of sunshine. On the windowsill was the succulent Mom and I had planted together. We’d promised to watch it bloom and grow together. What a pity. I wouldn’t be there to see that day. I gently closed the door, dragged my suitcase through the living room, and left home. A cold wind hit my face. I shivered. I pulled the scarf tighter and dragged my suitcase into the night. There were few people in the neighborhood. Occasionally someone coming home late hurried past, but no one noticed the little girl with a suitcase. The streetlights stretched my shadow and the suitcase’s shadow long and thin. Actually, I’d long forgotten exactly where the orphanage was. I just followed vague memories, heading west. By the fourth traffic light, my arms were so sore I could barely lift them. This intersection was very wide. When I was halfway across, the suitcase suddenly got stuck in a depression in the road. I pulled hard but couldn’t move it, so I crouched down, trying to lift the suitcase. Just then, a blinding light shone from the right, so bright I couldn’t open my eyes. I heard the sharp screech of brakes, then something heavy slammed into me. It didn’t hurt. Really, it didn’t hurt at all. I just felt myself flying, light as a feather. Then I saw my suitcase overturned on the ground, its contents scattered everywhere. I fell to the ground. My vision began to blur, my ears buzzing. Many footsteps ran over. Many voices shouted. But they all sounded muffled, as if through thick glass—distant and unclear.

The next time I was conscious, I found myself floating in midair. Looking down, I saw a circle of people gathered on the road. In the middle lay a little girl wearing a red scarf, her belongings scattered around her. Her eyes were closed. She looked peaceful. When I saw her face clearly, I was startled. That was me. The ambulance’s red lights were flashing. The blue lights rotated, illuminating everyone’s faces in flickering brightness and shadow. Medical personnel crouched beside me, doing something. Then they shook their heads regretfully and took out a white cloth, gently covering that small body. The white cloth was quickly stained red at one corner, like plum blossoms blooming in snow. I finally understood. So I’d died. That was fine. This way, the kids at the orphanage wouldn’t have a chance to laugh at me. The crowd gradually dispersed. Police arrived, taking photos and setting up police tape. My suitcase was picked up and placed beside the police car. But where should I go? I didn’t know. But before that, I really wanted to see Mom and Dad one more time. The wind blew, and though I felt no cold, I drifted with it. Drifting to the intersection, I saw a familiar car—Dad’s black sedan, slowly driving past the accident scene. Like grabbing a lifeline, I chased after it, passing through the closed window and landing in the back seat beside my brother. Inside the car was warm, the air conditioning humming. “There were so many people gathered back there,” Mom’s voice came from the passenger seat. “Did something happen?” Dad glanced at the rearview mirror. “Looks like a car accident. I saw ambulances and police cars.” My brother sat beside me, concentrating on playing with a new remote-control car. Its lights flashed on and off—so pretty. “The amusement park was so fun!” My brother suddenly looked up, eyes sparkling. “Mom, can we go again?” Mom smiled at him gently. “Of course. We’ll go again this weekend.” “I want cotton candy too!” My brother swung his little legs. “We’ll buy it, all of it.” Dad smiled at him through the rearview mirror. “Did you have fun today?” “Yes!” The atmosphere in the car was light and happy. Mom scrolled through photos on her phone from today, laughing from time to time. Dad hummed along with the car radio. My brother continued playing with his new toy. I watched the three of them, suddenly feeling a sharp ache in my chest. Sure enough, this family was just fine without me. “Oh, right,” Mom suddenly remembered something and pulled a box from her handbag. “I almost forgot this.” My eyes lit up. It was a brand-new astronaut model, identical to the one my brother had broken! “We searched so many stores. Thank goodness we found the last one,” Mom carefully inspected the packaging. “It’s the same as Lily’s, right?” Dad glanced at it. “Exactly the same. She’ll definitely love it.” “You really shouldn’t have said that to Lily.” Mom’s voice carried a gentle reproach. “She’s still a child. Evan broke her favorite toy—of course she’d be upset.” “I just got carried away in the moment…” Dad touched his nose. “Okay, okay, my fault.” Mom put the box back carefully. “Lily’s probably still sulking right now. When we get home, you take the new toy and make it up to her.” “Got it.” Dad’s voice softened. “Did we get the strawberry cake?” “Got it, from Lily’s favorite shop.” Mom turned to look at the back seat, her gaze tender. “And new hair clips too, the star-shaped ones she likes.” My brother held up the remote-control car. “Does Lily get a new toy too?” “Of course she does.” Mom smiled. “Everyone gets one.” I looked at that brand-new astronaut, at the anticipation on Mom’s face, at the hint of apology in Dad’s eyes. Suddenly, I understood everything. So they weren’t abandoning me after all. So they came back so late not to force me to leave, but because they’d run to several stores just to buy me an identical new model. So they’d also bought strawberry cake and star hair clips, and had already planned what to say to apologize. So… they still loved me. But it was too late.

The car drove into the neighborhood and parked. Mom carried the cake box. Dad carefully held the astronaut model. They went upstairs laughing, discussing how to surprise me. I followed behind them, passing through door after door, returning home. The living room light came on. “Lily, we’re home!” Mom’s voice carried a smile. “Look what Mom and Dad got you!” No one answered. Dad placed the astronaut model on the coffee table, right next to the cracked old one. One old, one new—like twins. “Is she asleep?” Mom said softly, tiptoeing toward my room. I followed her. She gently pushed open the door, speaking softly. “Lily, Mom’s coming in…” The room was quiet, with only the occasional sound of wind rustling the leaves outside. “Lily? Are you asleep?” Mom called again, her voice even softer. She waited a few seconds, receiving no response from me, hearing no rustling of blankets. The room light was turned on. The bed was neatly made, the blanket folded squarely. Mom’s breathing quickened. “Nathan! Come here!” Her voice began to tremble. “Lily’s gone!” Dad came over, glanced into the room, and his expression immediately darkened. “This child is getting more and more out of control!” His voice shook with anger. “Just because I said a few words to her, she’s playing runaway with me?!” “Keep your voice down…” Mom glanced at Evan and tugged at Dad’s arm. “Don’t scare the child…” Dad’s voice got louder. “To buy her an identical toy, we went to three stores! And she has the nerve to walk out over a little criticism? So inconsiderate!” Mom collapsed onto my bed, her hand touching the smooth sheets. “It’s so late… where could she have gone…” “Where else? She’s just trying to spite us!” Dad paced around the room. “Don’t worry, she can’t have gone far. When she gets cold and hungry, she’ll come back on her own.” Evan stood in the doorway holding his remote-control car, asking timidly, “Where did Lily go?” “Your sister was naughty and snuck out.” Dad said irritably. “Don’t worry about her. Let her think things through!” “But…” Mom wanted to say something. “No buts!” Dad cut her off. “You spoil her too much! At such a young age, she dares to run away from home? Ridiculous!” Evan’s voice came from the living room. “Mom, I’m hungry. Can I have cake?” Mom wiped her eyes and stood up. “…Go ahead.” They returned to the living room. Mom opened the cake box. Bright red strawberries were arranged in a circle on the cream. She cut the cake into four pieces, giving one to Dad, one to Evan, then looked at the piece with the most strawberries and said softly, “This piece is for Lily.” I watched them sit at the dining table. Evan ate happily, cream all over his face. Dad ate his cake in silence, his expression still ugly. Mom ate in small bites, but her eyes kept fixed on the front door. “It’s so sweet.” Evan said. “Is Lily’s sweet too?” “Sweet.” Mom touched his head. “We’ll save it for when Lily comes back.” But your sister can’t come back anymore. I wanted to say it, but I couldn’t make a sound.

After dinner, they put Evan to bed. Evan lay in his small bed, holding his new remote-control car. “When will Lily come back?” “Very soon.” Mom tucked in his blanket. “Close your eyes and sleep. You’ll see your sister tomorrow morning.” “Then I’ll let Lily play with my new toy too.” Evan said softly. “Okay, you can share with Lily.” The light went off. Mom gently closed the door. In the living room, the clock pointed to 10:30. Dad sat on the sofa, staring at his phone. The screen was lit, but he wasn’t really looking at anything. He just kept opening SnapChat, closing it, opening it, closing it. Mom paced back and forth in the living room, walking to the window for the third time to look down. “Nathan,” she finally couldn’t hold it in, “let’s go out and look for her.” “Look for what?” Dad didn’t look up, though his voice lacked conviction. “Let her come back on her own.” “But it’s so cold outside… and she’s so small…” Mom’s voice took on a tearful quality. Dad said nothing, but his fingers gripping the phone tightened. The clock on the wall went “tick-tock, tick-tock.” Eleven o’clock. Dad suddenly stood up and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go.” They rushed out the door. I followed behind, watching them search the neighborhood, search the children’s playground, search every path while calling my name. “Lily—! Lily—!” Mom’s voice scattered in the night wind, carrying increasingly obvious panic. Her voice was already getting hoarse, but she kept shouting, call after call. Dad initially kept a stern face, but soon he too grew anxious. He ran to the security office to check the surveillance footage and saw the small figure on the screen dragging a blue suitcase, walking out of the neighborhood gate at 9:08. “She actually took a suitcase?!” Dad’s face went white. Mom covered her mouth. Tears finally fell. They drove out to search, following the western route, street by street. Mom kept her face pressed against the car window, looking outside, murmuring, “Lily… Lily, where are you…” Dad said nothing, but the car went faster and faster. They searched for a long time—long enough for the shops along the road to turn off their lights one by one, long enough for all the pedestrians on the street to disappear. The air in the car grew heavier and more oppressive. After driving through another empty street, Dad pulled the car over to the side of the road. He gripped the steering wheel and stayed silent for a long time. “Let’s call the police.” Mom forced out these three words. Dad nodded and picked up his phone. Before he could dial, the screen lit up first. The ringtone exploded in the quiet car, piercingly anxiety-inducing. He glanced at it—an unknown number. He answered impatiently. “Hello?” I leaned over and heard a calm male voice on the other end: “Is this the parent of Lily Harper? This is Central City Hospital—”

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The day the doctor diagnosed me with premature ovarian failure, a whole table of food. I waited until midnight before my husband Ethan finally sent me a FaceTime call. He was wearing matching pajamas, sitting in another woman’s living room. Beside him was Yvonne, the struggling student he sponsored. Her nightgown was fresh and revealing. “Yvonne’s afraid of the dark. I’m staying with her tonight. You eat by yourself.” Five years of secret marriage. I bore him a son and suffered countless ailments. Yet he used gratitude as an excuse to rent Yvonne a luxury penthouse and play full-time caretaker. I’d suggested going public with our marriage multiple times. He always emphasized that Yvonne was emotionally fragile and couldn’t handle any stimulation, constantly accommodating her feelings. As his legal wife, I’d become an invisible business partner instead. On the video screen, Yvonne pulled a diamond ring from Ethan’s coat pocket. This was the wedding ring I’d waited three years for. Ethan only hesitated for a second before nodding with a smile. “If you like it, wear it as a toy.” I glanced at the diagnosis in the trash can and calmly ended the call. Then I photographed the divorce agreement I’d drafted along with my son’s name change application and posted it on Ins: “Widowed, single mother, three listed companies under my name. Now seeking handsome husband. Interested parties, DM me.”

[Beep. Fingerprint verification successful.] “Ethan, why can Yvonne unlock our front door?” I tossed my bag onto the shoe bench, staring at the green light on the lock. Inside the bag was my premature ovarian failure diagnosis. Ethan sat on the carpet looking at his phone, not raising his head. “The showerhead in her studio apartment broke. She’s borrowing the bathroom today. I added her fingerprint for convenience so she doesn’t have to knock every time.” His tone was casual, seeing nothing wrong with it, not even needing my consent. When we first moved in, Ethan had set my fingerprint as the sole administrator. He said I had the highest authority and could kick him out at any time. Now he’d shared that authority with someone else. The old Ethan was territorial. He refused to add the cleaning lady’s fingerprint, preferring to clean himself on weekends. He said home was a restricted zone that outsiders couldn’t enter. Now the door was wide open for Yvonne. I looked at the pink slippers by the entrance. They were on Yvonne’s feet. Five years ago that winter, Ethan had run across half the city to buy them. He knelt on one knee to help me put them on, saying my feet got cold in winter and I could only wear this type. Now those slippers were on someone else’s feet. I looked at the frosted bathroom door. “That’s a personal towel. I find it dirty.” Ethan looked up and frowned. “Don’t assume the worst about people. She just graduated and doesn’t know about these things.” “Her parents were injured saving me. Taking care of her is my duty.” “You should be more generous and help me take care of her!” The bathroom door opened. Yvonne emerged wearing my black camisole under Ethan’s bathrobe. I pressed my aching abdomen. “Then why is she wearing my nightgown?” Ethan glared at me. “Enough! Don’t be excessive!” He turned, his eyes gentle as he walked toward Yvonne. The old Ethan had a cleanliness obsession. When a female intern brushed against his coat in the elevator, he took it off on the spot and threw it in the trash. He said his clothes should only carry his wife’s scent. Now he draped his bathrobe over Yvonne and allowed her to wear my underwear. Ethan stood up and took the towel from Yvonne’s hands. “Her clothes got wet. I just grabbed something. Be more generous and don’t fixate on small things.” He helped Yvonne dry her hair with gentle movements. Before, after every hair wash, he’d use the hairdryer to dry mine, afraid I’d catch cold. “I’ll dry your hair for the rest of my life!” Now that treatment went to someone else. “Ethan, is this the business partner you mentioned?” Yvonne tilted her head and smiled at me. Five years of secret marriage. I bore him a son and suffered chronic illness, yet in his mouth I was just a business partner. Ethan paused. “Yeah. She’s usually busy. Ask her if you don’t understand anything.” He pulled me aside, his tone carrying a warning. “Yvonne thinks you’re my startup partner. She has low self-esteem. If she knew I was married, she’d feel guilty and refuse my support.” “Be more understanding and help me build a relationship with her so she feels secure.” I laughed. “Build a relationship? Do you need me to make the bed for you two?” Yvonne retreated half a step behind Ethan. “Does Lily hate me? Ethan, I’ll leave. Don’t let me affect your relationship.” She reached to untie the bathrobe sash. Ethan grabbed her wrist and looked at me. “You sleep in the guest room tonight. Yvonne will be more comfortable in the master bedroom.”

“You’re kicking me out of the master bedroom?” I looked at him. Ethan’s face showed impatience as he released Yvonne’s hand. “Do you have to make such a scene? She’s only staying one night.” When we first bought this place, he visited over a dozen design firms just for the master bedroom decoration. He said the master bedroom was my territory. He even had my initials engraved on the door plate. Once when he was on a business trip, his mother wanted to sleep in the master bedroom. He got angry on the phone and paid overnight to send her to a hotel. He promised then that only the lady of the house could enter the master bedroom. Now for Yvonne’s so-called comfort, he was evicting the lady of the house. He stepped forward to accuse me: “Fine, play the boss at the company, but you have to lord over a young girl at home too?” I walked past him to the guest room door. The bed had the silk sheets I bought last month. I’d planned to use them on our fifth anniversary, but now Yvonne’s suitcase sat on top. I used to have skin allergies. When we first moved in together, I broke out in a rash across my back. Ethan knocked on the boutique door in the middle of the night and paid premium prices for every silk bedding set in the store. Before, he always prepared half a month in advance for anniversaries. Our first anniversary after getting our marriage license, he cut his finger preparing dinner but insisted on cooking my steak even with bandaged fingers. He swore every future anniversary would be ceremonial, never perfunctory. Back then he cared about my health and our special days. Now he let someone else trample on my anniversary gift. “Move your things.” I looked at Yvonne. Yvonne’s eyes reddened and tears began to fall. “I’m sorry. Ethan said no one was using it, so I put my things here.” Ethan stepped forward to block her. “Why are you taking it out on her?” “They’re just sheets. I’ll buy you ten sets tomorrow.” He pulled out a black card and slapped it on the table. “Take the money and get a hotel room.” That card was my supplementary card. He was using my money to dismiss me. I didn’t take the card. Nausea rose in my stomach. The hormonal imbalance from premature ovarian failure intensified the cramping in my lower abdomen. I felt dizzy, gripping the doorframe to catch my breath, cold sweat beading on my forehead. “Stop faking.” Ethan looked at me. “You climb stairs with clients without getting winded. Now you’re playing the victim for who?” I looked away. During our startup phase, I drank with clients until I had stomach bleeding. He burst into the private room and beat up the client, carried me running to the hospital, crying as he ran. That night he kept vigil by the hospital bed and swore that if I even frowned from period cramps in the future, he’d take me to the ER and suffer in my place. Now I could barely stand from pain, yet he said I was acting. He grabbed Yvonne’s hand. “Yvonne, let’s go. You’re not welcome here. I’ll take you to a hotel.” The door closed. I slid down the doorframe to the floor and dialed emergency services. On the ambulance, the nurse took my phone. “We need to contact your emergency contact. What’s your family member’s number?” I gave Ethan’s number. The nurse dialed and put it on speaker. The phone rang for a long time before a female voice came through. “Hello, who is this?” It was Yvonne who answered. The nurse looked at me. “Is Ethan there? His wife passed out and is heading to the hospital now.” There was no immediate response. Yvonne’s voice came through the speaker, with the sound of running water and a man’s heavy breathing in the background. “Ethan told me he was single when he started sponsoring me. Where did a wife come from? You’ve got the wrong number.” The call was disconnected. Before, Ethan said his phone was on standby for me 24/7. I was the starred contact in his phone, available at my beck and call. The nurse looked at me. “Do you need to call again?” “No need. No one will answer.” I closed my eyes.

The next day, I dragged my exhausted body back to the real estate office. A client was about to put down a deposit on that million-dollar penthouse duplex. I had to handle it personally. As I reached the reception area, I saw Ethan sitting on the sofa with Yvonne. Yvonne flipped through the duplex’s brochure and looked up. “Ethan, these floor-to-ceiling windows are so beautiful. I could practice yoga here.” Ethan affectionately ruffled her hair. “If you like it, we’ll rent it. This can be your art studio.” This property was where he’d knelt on the cement floor to propose to me years ago. He’d drawn up a design plan, saying he’d lay down wool carpet by the windows for me to read. This property held all our initial fantasies about home. Later we had to mortgage it when the company’s capital chain broke. He’d promised with red eyes that one day he’d buy it back himself and give it to me. But now, he wanted to turn our “proposal sanctuary” into Yvonne’s yoga room. I stepped forward and raised my chin toward the sales manager. “Take this property off the market. Not for sale or rent.” Ethan’s expression darkened. He stood up accusingly. “What do you mean? You have to compete with Yvonne?” I cut him off: “Ethan, I’m the full-price owner of this property. If I want to leave it empty to feed rats rather than let questionable people dirty my floors, that’s my choice. Understand?” Ethan froze. Yvonne lowered her head, her voice taking on a tearful tone: “Lily is rich, naturally she looks down on me. Ethan, let’s go.” Ethan gripped her hand and turned to me: “So what if you have money? You don’t have an ounce of empathy. Go ahead and grow old with your broken property.” Watching their retreating backs, I recalled how during the company’s startup phase, he’d rather do hard labor on construction sites than accept startup capital from my parents. He gave me every penny of his first earnings, even if it was just a few thousand, while he ate only cheap bread and pickled vegetables.. He said his money was my money. He would never spend a woman’s penny. And now, he shamelessly swiped my supplementary card to please another woman, even turning around to mock me for being rich and heartless. He pulled Yvonne away without looking back. I closed my eyes, sat back in the car, and picked up the property deed from the passenger seat. I tore this fifth anniversary gift along with the diagnosis from my bag into pieces and threw them away. I opened SnapChat and posted the divorce agreement I’d already drafted along with photos of my son’s name change documents to my feed: “Widowed, single mother, three listed companies under my name. Now seeking handsome husband. Interested parties, DM me.” After posting, I pressed the accelerator and drove toward the unfinished villas in the western suburbs to test nighttime noise levels.

At eleven p.m., I walked into the villa complex with a flashlight. Years ago when I worked overtime until dawn during a blackout, I was too scared to move from under my desk. Ethan braved a rainstorm and climbed twenty flights of stairs to find me. His clothes were soaked through, but he wrapped me in his warm coat, crying as he swore never to leave me alone in darkness again. He said he couldn’t rest easy with me working alone at night. Now I could only light my own way with a flashlight. I’d just reached the first floor when messy footsteps sounded behind me. Several thugs blocked my exit. “Middle of the night, what’s a pretty lady doing here alone?” The gang leader whistled, looking me up and down. I turned and ran upstairs, entered a second-floor bedroom and locked the door. Pounding came from outside. “Open up! Don’t reject a kind offer only to face the consequences!” I hid in the closet and instinctively opened SnapChat, calling Ethan on FaceTime. The video rang and rang. Outside, the wooden door made cracking sounds. The screen finally lit up. In the frame, Ethan sat in the luxury apartment he’d rented for Yvonne. Before, when I encountered a drunk stalker on a business trip, I only sent a punctuation mark and he immediately called the police and chartered a car overnight to find me across provinces. He used to hold me and say that whenever I needed him, he’d be there at my call. Now across the screen, he watched my trembling lips without a trace of concern in his eyes. “What game are you playing now?” He stared at the camera impatiently. “Save me. I’m not joking. Someone’s breaking down the door.” I lowered my voice. “I can’t get through to 911. Please call the police!” He scoffed, his eyes full of irritation. “Lily, what are you doing posting crazy stuff on Ins? Recruiting a husband? Three listed companies? Delete it now!” “I’m really trapped in an unfinished building. Call the police…” “Keep making things up. You’re just using this ploy to force me to come back, aren’t you?” Ethan picked up the milk beside him and took a sip. “Yvonne saw your post and cried. She’s afraid of being alone. I have to stay with her tonight. Figure it out yourself.” The camera shook. Yvonne’s face appeared on the screen. She held an exquisitely packaged gift box in her hands. “Ethan, why do you have lingerie in your bag?” The box opened, revealing the sexy lingerie I’d blushed while selecting for a long time, planned as a surprise for our fifth anniversary night. Back then, seeing my shyness, he’d rescued me from embarrassment and generously put it in his bag, holding me and saying thank you repeatedly. Ethan hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded with a smile. “If you like it, go ahead and wear it.” Before, I’d casually given him a woven bracelet worth a few dozen dollars. He never took it off even in the shower, and when it broke he kept it in the safe. Now he gave away my carefully prepared intimate fifth anniversary gift like it was just any piece of clothing. The wooden door was completely knocked down. Several thugs walked in. I watched Yvonne on screen holding the lingerie with a triumphant smile and proactively pressed the hang-up button. The gang thug walked to the closet and yanked open the door. “Run! Why aren’t you running now?” I reached into my bag and gripped the pepper spray. Police sirens and screeching brakes sounded outside. A low male voice came from downstairs. “Anyone who touches a hair on her head leaves here horizontal today.” Footsteps accompanied bodyguards rushing into the room. The gang thug was kicked to the ground. Adrian bent down slightly, adjusting the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose. He looked at me trembling. “Miss Monroe, does your Ins post still stand? I’m here to pick you up.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392423”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Born as the school’s golden girl, I ended up swapping souls with the heaviest, poorest outcast in our high school. We exchanged secrets, shared our lives, and tried desperately to find a way back into our own bodies. Until one day, she vanished. The teachers said her entire family had moved out of the country. The next time I saw her was ten years later. She was standing next to my childhood sweetheart, bearing the title of the CEO’s wife. 1. On my fifteenth day trapped in Mia Jenkins’s body, I looked in the mirror and was still horrified by how ugly I was. A heavy, bloated frame, cheeks thick with fat, and dark, unkempt skin shining with grease. A greasy side-bang fell in clumps, completely hiding my left eye. The right eye that managed to peek through was squeezed into a tiny slit by the sheer volume of my cheeks. If I wanted to open my eyes wider, I practically had to pry the fat apart. Suppressing my disgust, I hurriedly splashed my face with cold water and sprinted toward the bus stop. “Sweetie, your breakfast!” Mia’s mother, walking with a heavy limp, anxiously hobbled after me, trying to hand me a plastic bag filled with a massive breakfast. I skidded to a halt, grabbed the bag from her hands, shoved it into my backpack, and resumed my sprint to the bus stop. I say “sprint,” but it was barely faster than a brisk walk. Mia was about 5’6″ but weighed nearly two hundred pounds. Even using every ounce of my strength, I could only shuffle my legs a tiny bit faster than before. Just from that minimal exertion, my heart was already pounding out of my chest, my lungs felt tight, and I was gasping for air. I had no idea how the original Mia ever survived P.E. class. By the time I squeezed onto the crowded morning bus, the thin cotton of my t-shirt was already soaked with sweat. “Excuse me, coming through.” I dropped into a seat in the very back row. The guy sitting next to the window immediately pinched his nose in disgust. I knew this guy. He was Caleb Rivers, one of my former admirers who had relentlessly brought me breakfast for three months straight back when I was Serena. But right now, he was pressing himself as close to the window as humanly possible, acting as if I was infected with a deadly virus. 2. “Tch. Smells like garbage. Gross.” Mia’s body was severely overweight, and since it was the middle of summer, I was already sweating profusely. There were obvious sweat stains pooling at the collar and armpits of my yellow shirt. Embarrassed, I shrank my shoulders, trying my hardest to make sure my arms didn’t accidentally brush against the guy next to me. No wonder the original Mia always wore a thick hoodie, even in the dead of summer. Thinking of all the cruel mockery she endured behind her back, my eyes welled up with tears. I was going to lose this weight. Before I figured out how to swap back, I was going to help Mia shed this extra baggage. Having survived the agonizing panic and confusion of the first few days, I was finally somewhat adapting to Mia’s body. And I owed it all to Mia. She had stayed by my side those first few days, comforting me, encouraging me. She was right. As long as we worked together, we’d find a way to switch back soon. Thinking of Mia warmed my heart. Before this, she was the quiet, isolated outcast. I had almost never seen her speak to anyone. She arrived at school alone, left alone, ate in the cafeteria alone, and went to the bathroom alone. Nobody in our class liked her. The girls ostracized her, and the boys were openly disgusted by her. If I, Serena Sterling, was the bright, untouchable moon hanging over Oakridge Prep, Mia was the rotting mud beneath everyone’s shoes. Anyone felt entitled to step on her. But despite her appearance, she had an incredibly warm and kind heart. In just two short weeks, our shared bizarre experience had made us the best of friends. 3. Panting heavily, I finally made it to the classroom just before the bell rang and collapsed into my desk in the very back row, taking deep breaths. Caleb Rivers lifted his eyelids, gave me a brief glance, and immediately turned around to sleep on his desk. Nobody in the class liked Mia, so the homeroom teacher had shoved her desk right next to the trash cans in the back corner. Oakridge Prep was the most elite private school in the state. Most of the students were children of politicians or billionaires. But Caleb was here on a sports scholarship, and like Mia, he came from a poor background. Naturally, the two worst seats in the class were reserved for them. Normally, these two minded their own business—one slept all day, the other spaced out. But my arrival had clearly broken their unspoken truce. “Caleb, want some eggs?” I pulled two hard-boiled eggs out of my pocket and shoved them into his hands, then placed a carton of milk on his desk. Since I was determined to lose weight, it had to start with my diet. Mia’s family was broke, but her parents doted on her unconditionally. They wore rags and skipped meals just to spend every penny on her. And Mia had a massive appetite. For breakfast alone, she would pack away five or six eggs, two cartons of milk, and four or five heavy breakfast sandwiches. Caleb turned around, staring at me intently for a moment before letting out a scoff. “Mia, don’t tell me you have a crush on me.” I looked at him, speechless. Caleb and my childhood sweetheart, Ethan Vance, were known as the “Twin Princes” of Oakridge. The girls were constantly fighting over who was hotter. Unlike Ethan’s refined, gentle, and polished prep-school vibe, Caleb was pure bad-boy energy. Sharp eyebrows, a strong nose, and a sun-kissed, athletic build. He was undeniably gorgeous, but his rebellious, untamed aura gave him a dangerous, street-smart edge. 4. “Don’t worry, I’m not into guys.” I drank my milk, pulled a heavy breakfast sandwich from my bag, and tossed it to him. “I’m starting a diet. It’s a waste to throw it away, and since we’ve been desk-mates for a while, consider it your lucky day.” Caleb’s parents had died in a car crash during middle school. He lived with his grandparents. I’d heard rumors that his grandparents were elderly and sick, surviving by collecting scrap metal just to put him through school. He was a growing teenager and an athlete who trained for hours every day. Sometimes during class, I could hear his stomach rumbling from starvation. Caleb dropped his careless attitude and looked at me seriously. “Alright. Guess I’ll do you a favor and eat it.” I finished my milk and glanced over at my own original desk. Strange. The bell was about to ring. Why wasn’t Serena here yet? In all the time we had been swapped, she hadn’t been late once. Was she sick? I sent a text to my own phone. No reply. I called. No one picked up. Caleb kicked my shoe lightly under the desk. Phones were strictly banned at Oakridge. Before the homeroom teacher walked down the aisle, I quickly shoved it into my bag. I was distracted the entire morning study period. Yesterday, Mia had stayed up late chatting with me. She confidently promised she had found a solution and that we’d be back in our own bodies by next week. The moment the bell rang, I jumped out of my seat and jogged to the homeroom teacher’s podium. “Mr. Davis, where is Serena? Why isn’t she in class?” The balding teacher gave me a weird look, clearly shocked that someone like Mia would have anything to do with the golden girl, Serena Sterling. “She transferred.” The summer sun was beating through the windows, but I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. “Trans… transferred?” Mr. Davis pushed his slipping glasses up his nose. “Serena’s entire family relocated to London. She officially withdrew late last week. A few of the girls even threw a going-away party for her over the weekend. Did you not know?” I didn’t hear a single word after that, because the world faded to black and I fainted on the spot. Right before I closed my eyes, I thought I saw Caleb sprinting toward me. 5. “Hey. Are you awake?” I forced my eyes open. Everything was stark white—the walls, the curtains, the bedsheets. The school nurse, Mrs. Evans, was sitting beside me, looking at me gently. “It’s too hot outside, you got heatstroke. Rest for a bit. I got you some electrolytes.” I sat up, my head still spinning. I sat there in a daze for a long moment before it suddenly hit me why I had fainted. Mia! Mia took my body and moved to London! I jumped out of bed and bolted for the door, but because I stood up too fast, my vision whited out again. “Whoa, what’s the rush? I already excused you from your morning classes. See? You’re dizzy again. You can’t focus in class like this. Just lay back down.” Mrs. Evans grabbed my arm and forced me back onto the bed. I was so panicked I was on the verge of tears. No! I had to find Mia! I had to make her explain this! Ignoring my dizzy spells, I shoved my shoes on and stumbled out the door. Mrs. Evans tried to grab me twice but failed, muttering under her breath, “Kids these days… the academic pressure is really driving them insane!” Leaving the clinic, I headed straight for the school gates. My pale, sickly, sweaty face startled the security guard. “Hey kid, aren’t your parents picking you up? You don’t look too good. I can’t let you leave alone.” “My parents are waiting right outside the gate, sir.” I threw together a quick lie, jogged out the gates, and flagged down a yellow cab. 6. My family lived in the most exclusive gated community in the city. When the cab pulled up to the estate gates, I realized the total amount of cash on me was about $5—not even enough to cover the fare. The driver took one look at my panicked, teenage face, waved his hand generously, and let me off the hook for the remainder. When I finally ran up to the front door of my mansion, I found it locked tight. I couldn’t get in. I scrambled over the side gate into the garden and pressed my face against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything inside was draped in white dust covers—the velvet sofas, the dining table, even the giant teddy bear statue I loved so much. The sprawling mansion was completely empty. It was 9:00 AM. Usually, our housekeeper Maria would be vacuuming, and Chef Andre would be in the kitchen prepping my organic mid-day meals. They moved. They really moved! I collapsed onto the front steps, my mind completely blank. My parents were workaholics. I was practically raised by nannies. It was the nannies who attended my parent-teacher conferences. I saw my parents maybe a handful of times a year. Honestly, they probably knew their executive board better than they knew me. My phone! Right, I could still call them! With trembling hands, I dialed the number for my father that I knew by heart. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached is no longer in service…” Disconnected? Refusing to believe it, I dialed it again. Still disconnected. I called my original phone number—disconnected. I called my mom—straight to voicemail. Who else? Who else could I find? 7. My grandfather lived permanently in Florida, and my mom’s side of the family was in Boston. Both of my parents were only children, so I had no other relatives in the state. I wrung my hands anxiously. No, I had to find Mia. I wasn’t going to let her steal my life like this. I smacked my forehead. I was so stupid. I could go find Ethan! Ethan Vance lived in the exact same gated community as me. We had been in the same class since kindergarten. We were quintessential childhood sweethearts. When we were little, we used to play house and pretend to get married. His parents adored me. His mom used to half-joke to my mom that they should just arrange our marriage now. I stood up, wiped my tears, and sprinted toward Ethan’s mansion. The front doors to the Vance estate were wide open. Several maids were bustling around cleaning. When they saw me, they looked shocked. “Excuse me, who are you looking for?” A middle-aged woman walked over, wiping her hands on a towel. “I… I’m looking for Ethan.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt stupid. Ethan should be in AP Physics right now. Why did I run to his house? “Young Master Ethan transferred to a school in London last week. Are you his classmate?” The world spun, and I crashed onto the driveway. Ethan went to London too?! “Oh my god, honey, are you okay?” 8. I stumbled out of the Vance estate in a daze. Holding onto my absolute last shred of hope, I dialed Ethan’s cell number. “Hello?” “Ethan! It’s me! It’s Serena!” I almost jumped out of my skin with excitement. Ethan was my best friend. He would definitely recognize me! “Mia?” Even though the original Mia was heavy and unkempt, her voice was beautiful. It was clear and melodic, like a babbling brook in the middle of summer, or wind chimes caught in a breeze. “I’m in Mia’s body right now, but I’m actually Serena! We swapped souls, just like in the movies! I swear, I—” “Mia,” Ethan sighed, cutting me off. “I know you’re unhappy with your life, but delusion is a mental illness. You need to get help.” “Serena told me everything. You constantly hallucinate that you’re her, and you desperately want to live her life.” “That’s exactly why she changed her mind and agreed to move to London with me.” “I don’t know how you got my number, but I’m changing it today.” “I hope you stop harassing Serena from now on. Take care of yourself.” Beep. Beep. Beep. The call ended. I stood frozen under the blazing sun. A jolt of electricity shot from the soles of my feet straight into my heart, leaving half my body completely numb. When I first realized we swapped bodies, my first instinct was to tell my parents. But Mia stopped me. She said they would just think we were crazy, and that we should figure it out ourselves. She asked me if I wanted to experience what it was like to live someone else’s life for a few days. She said it was thrilling and that it should be our little secret. She told me she had found a way to switch back, and that it would happen soon. I was such an idiot! From this moment forward, I was only Mia. The poor, academically average, clinically obese, isolated, ghost-like Mia. 9. I walked all the way back under the blistering sun. Even though I was wearing thin sweatpants, the inner thighs were completely chafed and bleeding. This body was too heavy. The fat rubbed together painfully with every step. No wonder Mia rarely walked and never left her seat during passing periods. My body was in agony, but I masochistically kept walking, drenched in sweat like it was raining. I shouldn’t have trusted her so easily. I shouldn’t have handed over my deepest secrets. But regret wouldn’t save me now. I needed to plan my future. Even if I was dragged down into the mud, I was going to bloom into the most brilliant flower. By the time I walked back to the school gates, it was already afternoon. My clothes had soaked through, dried, and soaked through again, emitting a sour, stale odor. It was lunch period. The classroom was mostly empty, with most students down in the cafeteria. Caleb’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Where did you go? I checked the nurse’s office after class and you weren’t there.” I grabbed my water bottle and chugged half of it in one breath. “I went home for a bit.” “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” Because I had been bringing him breakfast lately, Caleb had warmed up to me considerably. He dropped his bad-boy attitude and looked at me with genuine concern. I pulled my textbooks from my desk and gave him a bitter smile. “Nothing. Just realized I’m a complete idiot.” “Weirdo.” Caleb scratched the back of his head, turned around, and didn’t pry any further. 10. At 5:00 AM, just as the sky was turning a hazy gray, I was already awake. I was the only one left in the tiny, cramped courtyard. Mia’s parents ran a small breakfast food truck. Every day, they woke up at 2 or 3 AM to prep, and by 4 AM, they were out on the streets selling. I washed my face, changed into workout clothes, pushed open the squeaky courtyard gate, and started power-walking down the street. This body was too heavy to run. Even just power-walking nearly took half my life. After thirty minutes of wheezing and panting, I returned to the courtyard and started strength training. I say “strength training,” but it was mostly high knees, arm circles, and step-ups on the porch. Mia’s body was incredibly weak. Just lifting my arms made my muscles burn and tremble. Push-ups were entirely out of the question. After a solid thirty minutes of training, my clothes were drenched. The light gray fabric had turned charcoal. Checking my watch, it was 6:00 AM. I went back inside, showered, changed into my uniform, and grabbed my backpack to catch the bus. Breakfast, prepared by Mia’s mom, was warming on the stove. Thirty dollars in cash was left on the table for my allowance. A bowl of boiled eggs, five massive pork buns, and two cartons of milk. Mia’s parents spoiled her. No matter how exhausted they were, they always made sure she had a massive breakfast. On weekends, they would splurge on beef and shrimp at the market to make sure she got enough nutrition. She had her own kind of happiness. When I was Serena, I rarely even sat at the same table as my parents, let alone ate a meal cooked by them. I packed the breakfast into my bag. Thinking for a moment, I ran into the courtyard and picked two crisp cucumbers and a few bright red tomatoes. Mia’s mom was hardworking. She kept the courtyard spotless and even built a small vegetable garden on the south side. Most of their daily produce came straight from there. 11. Arriving at the classroom, I routinely pulled the breakfast from my bag and handed it to Caleb. He had gone from initially refusing to now accepting it naturally. After taking it, he looked at me seriously and said: “I owe you for this. If anyone bullies you from now on, drop my name.” “No thanks. Nobody is bullying me.” I opened my books and focused entirely on the coursework. Mia used to tell me that all roads lead to Rome, but some people are just born in Rome. She said she envied me. Envied me so much she wanted to die. She said I played piano, danced ballet, and spoke French and English like a native. I wore designer clothes, lived in a mansion, and lived a dream-like princess life. But she didn’t know that the “princess” woke up at 5:00 AM every single day to study. On weekends and holidays, when everyone else was playing, I was either in the dance studio or at the piano. From the time I was five until now, I hadn’t had a single day off to just play. My life, aside from studying, was more studying. My parents believed in elite grooming. They believed in talent, but they believed in blood, sweat, and tears even more. When I was little, the only time my parents would smile at me, or reward me with a family dinner, was when I worked myself to the bone and brought home a first-place trophy. In our social circle, I was the role model every parent praised, and the ultimate nightmare for every other kid. Mia thought my excellence was just a byproduct of my wealthy family. But she didn’t know that excellence is a habit. A hardworking soul cannot be chained down by any physical body. 12. Caleb started glancing at me frequently, constantly trying to strike up a conversation. “Mia, why does it feel like you’ve been replaced by a different person?” “You’re not spacing out in class anymore. The way you’re grinding, it’s like you’re trying to get into Harvard. It’s kinda scary.” My response was a massive eye roll. There were only two months left until final exams. As the top private school in the state, Oakridge offered incredibly generous scholarships to stay competitive with the public schools. Our school had an “Outstanding Improvement Award.” Every semester, the student who showed the most progress would get a full-ride scholarship for the next year, plus a ten-thousand-dollar cash prize. The cash was secondary. My goal was the full-ride scholarship. Mia’s cousin, who was the same age, had gotten into the best public high school in the city. Feeling competitive, Mia had thrown a massive tantrum, threatening self-harm until her parents agreed to send her to Oakridge. Coincidentally, Mia’s dad had a friend in the admissions office who owed him a favor, which was the only reason she got in. But Oakridge’s tuition was astronomical. A single year of tuition practically drained the Jenkins family’s entire annual income. Her parents lived like paupers just to spend everything on her. I wasn’t Mia. I couldn’t comfortably drain their life savings with a clear conscience. “Take out yesterday’s pop quiz. Those who forgot it, you know the drill. Pick up your chair and go stand in the back.” Mr. Harrison, the AP Calculus teacher, walked into the classroom, pushed up his glasses, and glared at us coldly. Because of his brutal teaching methods and dark scowls, the students secretly called him “The Grim Reaper.” Yesterday’s quiz was brutally hard. I had stayed up until midnight finishing it. Mia’s mom had specially warmed up some milk for me, watching me work with tears in her eyes, heartbroken that I was studying so late. I rummaged through my bag. Nothing. I calmly searched it again. Still nothing. Huh? Seeing my serious expression, Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Try-hard, don’t tell me you forgot to do it?” I gave him a bitter smile. “I did it. Just forgot to bring it.” 13. For a girl, being forced to stand at the back of the classroom holding a chair over her head for an entire period was incredibly humiliating. The girls who had been punished like this before usually cried the entire time. Some with weaker constitutions would even fake sick and go home early, unable to face the class’s mockery. I had forgotten assignments before too, but as the valedictorian, I always got special treatment. But I was Mia now, not Serena. I instantly broke into a cold sweat. A nearly two-hundred-pound, heavily bullied girl standing in the back holding a chair… Plus, with my current physical stamina, I’d probably only last a minute before collapsing. Who knows how the class would mock me then? Seeing my face turn paper-white, Caleb ruffled my hair. He flashed a brilliant, cocky smile, his teeth shining brighter than the sun outside. “What are you panicking for? I got you.” Caleb shoved his own quiz paper onto my desk, stood up without a care in the world, grabbed his chair, and swaggered to the back of the class. Mr. Harrison shot him a look of pure disgust, as if Caleb were a piece of trash. I looked down at the quiz paper Caleb handed me. It was practically blank. He had bubbled ‘C’ for all the multiple-choice questions, scribbled random numbers in the short answers, and left the free-response essays entirely blank. My initial wave of gratitude vanished, replaced by a surge of anger. Caleb was actually incredibly smart. He had a photographic memory. He could skim a dense article three times and memorize the gist of it perfectly. His family was poor. Even if they were rich, he shouldn’t be wasting his talent and throwing his life away like this. No. I couldn’t let Caleb rot away like this. After all, we were practically friends now. 14. Dealing with a cocky, narcissistic teenage boy like Caleb? I had plenty of methods. “Caleb, wanna make a bet?” “Whoever gets a higher score on the finals, the loser has to become the winner’s minion. They have to stand at attention when the winner walks by and call them ‘Boss’.” Caleb looked me up and down seriously for a moment before letting out a dismissive snort. “You? Sure, my grades are worse than yours right now, but you’re giving 90% effort, and I’m giving 10%. I’m a genius, you know that right?” “I just don’t feel like studying. If I actually tried, heh, I’d scare you to death.” I nodded expressionlessly. “Then it’s a bet. After finals, don’t forget to call me Boss Mia.” “Heh, you little chubby…” Mid-sentence, Caleb aggressively slapped his own mouth, looking annoyed with himself. I winked at him. “I won’t be chubby for long.” Caleb let out an exaggerated groan. “Jesus, Mia! Please don’t ever make that face again, it’s terrifying!” “Get lost!” My relationship with Caleb improved drastically. Because of him, the attitude of the girls in class toward me suddenly became incredibly warm. “Mia, could you pass this letter to Caleb for me?” “Mia, can you give this bag of snacks to Caleb?” “Mia, we’re going to the amusement park this weekend. You should come! Oh, and ask Caleb if he wants to come too.” Caleb rejected all of them. He took the snacks, ignored the letters, and turned down every invitation.

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My brother was the internet’s favorite punching bag, thoroughly blacklisted and desperate for any kind of traffic. To salvage his career, he dragged me onto a family reality show. Around others, he walked on eggshells, so terrified of the haters that he’d probably apologize to a stray dog if he bumped into it. But around the trolls? I chose violence. My brother: “Chloe, keep a low profile, I’m begging you.” The fans: “So satisfying, keep dragging them! We love to see it!” 01 I had just gotten back to the States from studying abroad when my brother accepted a gig on a family-oriented reality show. He invited our mom. She took a sip of her tea and said coldly, “I’m not going. It’s too embarrassing.” He invited our dad. Dad didn’t even look up from his mountain of paperwork. “For fifty million dollars a day, I’ll consider it.” My brother: “…” Left with no options, he turned his pleading eyes to me. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s just a reality show. Your big sister will go with you.” Our mom looked at me with an expression that screamed you have no idea what you’re in for. My brother was so moved he practically sobbed, pulling me into a massive hug. “Chloe, you are the absolute best. I’m so grateful for you.” I patted his head affectionately. “Look at you, Hayes. You’re a big star now. Having a brother like you is my pride and joy.” Hayes flushed with embarrassment. “Um, Chloe… could you maybe check the internet first?” I had rushed back home so quickly that I wasn’t caught up on domestic entertainment news. Smiling, I opened up X. And my smile instantly froze. In a twisted sense of the word, he was indeed “popular.” Ever since he debuted two years ago, his name had been synonymous with mass cyberbullying. His singing and dancing were painfully average, yet he somehow secured a top debut spot on a massive idol survival show. The internet accused him of crying his way to the top and turned his dance practice videos into “senior citizen physical therapy” memes. In that moment, I deeply regretted saying, “You are my pride and joy.” And very soon, my brother would deeply regret saying, “I’m so grateful for you.” 02 The show, Dearest Family, was filmed at a luxury resort. It was a seven-day, 24/7 continuous livestream format. Drones followed us the second we stepped foot on the mountain path. When Hayes and I arrived at the base of the hill, another pair of guests was already waiting. The guy looked about twenty-five, tall with a slight tan, accompanied by a girl in casual activewear who looked visibly annoyed. They were whispering to each other, but the girl’s sour expression spoke volumes. When she saw us, she tilted her chin up and scoffed loudly. Hayes leaned in and whispered in my ear, “That’s Connor Vance. During the survival show two years ago, he ranked twelfth and got eliminated. The whole internet says I stole his spot in the final lineup.” I instantly understood. The producers were staging a bloodbath for ratings. As we walked over, Connor lowered his eyes, looking perfectly meek and subservient as he greeted us. Hayes, practically traumatized by the internet’s hatred, was walking on thin ice. He extended his hand, his smile bordering on desperate people-pleasing. Even so, the livestream chat was already tearing him apart: “Connor is so sweet. I can’t believe he has to film with the guy who stole his dream.” “Seeing Hayes’s fake, pretentious face makes me sick.” “Connor is too nice for initiating the greeting. Hayes has zero social awareness.” “Take away his pretty face, and what does Hayes even have against Connor?!” I stood there, completely deadpan, watching Connor flash a painfully “friendly” smile. “You must be Hayes’s sister,” Connor said. “I’m Connor, and this is my sister, Hailey. She won the National Youth Dance Championship last year.” Right on cue, Hailey smugly raised her chin, looking me up and down with sheer disdain. “Wow, I didn’t even know Hayes had a sister.” Connor quickly jumped in, playing the peacemaker. “Hayes doesn’t like bringing up his family in public. It’s totally normal you didn’t know.” Hailey scoffed again. “Makes sense. For someone who only debuted because of his face, his family probably isn’t much to brag about anyway.” 03 The Vance siblings came out swinging. Whether the producers had scripted this or not, the live chat was eating it up. “True, I tried looking up Hayes’s background online and found nothing.” “Some influencers analyzed it and said his family is probably poor, which is why he had to sell a sob story to debut.” My brow furrowed slightly. Seeing my reaction, Hayes secretly squeezed my hand. “Chloe, please bear with it. The fans are terrifying.” While we waited for the rest of the cast to arrive, Connor and Hailey fired off like a synchronized machine gun. “The Youth Dance Championship—do you even know what that is? Oh, sorry, I forgot you probably don’t study dance. Of course you wouldn’t know.” “A national title is just okay, I guess. My real goal is to take home an international trophy within five years.” The chat flooded with praise: “Connor’s family is elite. His sister is so talented!” “A dance champion! What a massive slap in the face to a certain someone who debuted with zero talent.” “His sister isn’t even defending him. Looks like that whole family is just empty heads and pretty faces.” The more Hailey talked, the more arrogant she got. Suddenly, I turned to Hayes. “Go grab me a water.” Hayes nodded obediently and scurried off to find a PA. The second he was out of earshot, I turned my deadpan gaze to Connor. “Connor, was it? Your sister is a dance champion. What about you? What titles do you hold? What honors have you won?” I pulled out my phone, opening a search engine right in front of him. “I just looked you up. The only thing attached to your name is ’12th place on a reality show.’ For someone who loves to show off this much, if you had a single other achievement, your PR team would have bought billboards for it by now.” Connor: “…” I smoothly pivoted to Hailey. “National dance champion? Which competition? Which circuit? What scale? Last I checked, there are over two dozen youth dance competitions in the States every year, and about fifteen of them hold less weight than your brother’s 12th place finish.” Hailey: “…” 04 Their faces went from flushed red to a sickly pale green. It was glorious. I casually looked away. Sigh. I should probably hold back a little. Don’t want to bully the kids too hard. I was ready to call a truce, but they weren’t. Hailey glared at me, refusing to back down. “That’s because my brother is humble! Everyone knows Connor carried Hayes on America’s Next Idol!” “Oh,” I replied flatly. She choked on her anger, taking a deep breath. “The title I won last year was for Dance Dynasty. That’s infinitely better than whatever you two losers have going on.” I actually remembered Dance Dynasty. My nine-year-old niece won it three years in a row. She actually declined their invitation last year because she thought the judging format was garbage. Listening to Hailey’s arrogant bragging, I frowned. A drone hovered above us, and a producer was standing just out of frame. I walked right up to him, pointing at Hailey. “She’s launching personal attacks. Is the production team not going to step in?” The producer made a hand gesture. “This is a live, unfiltered broadcast. The directing team does not interfere during recording.” I feigned a look of sudden realization. “So, no rules against cursing people out either?” “We are instructed to remain hands-off.” “Understood.” It was a simple, clarifying conversation, but the live chat lost its collective mind. “What is she doing? Tattling? Is she in kindergarten? So gross!” “Just like Hayes! Utterly pathetic.” “Hailey might be cocky, but at least she has the talent to back it up. Can this woman do anything besides cry to the producers?” “The show obviously wants drama. Snitching makes her look like a clown.” “Hailey is just being blunt and honest. Chloe is pulling sneaky, underhanded stunts.” 05 By the time I walked back, the last two pairs of guests had arrived. Hailey was currently giving an incredibly animated recount of her Dance Dynasty performance from last year. I listened for a moment before speaking up. “Dance Dynasty, huh? Sounds familiar.” Everyone subconsciously looked at me. Hailey’s smile stiffened, but she couldn’t hide her smugness. “Pretty impressive, right?” I smiled back. “They invited me, but I didn’t go.” “Why?” “Because I was overseas at the Global Apex Dance Championship.” I had completely hijacked her narrative. Her eyes went wide with disbelief. “What place did you get?!” Anyone in the industry knew the Apex Championship was the undisputed, most prestigious dance competition on the planet. The live chat erupted: “She’s totally bluffing. Does she even know the prestige of Apex?” “Only the absolute elite compete there. If she’s that good, why does Hayes suck so much?” I slowly lifted my gaze, meeting the expectant stares of everyone in the group. Deadpan, I replied, “Oh. I was a judge.” Hailey: “…” The silence hung in the air for a brutal ten seconds. Finally, Hailey’s voice cracked an octave. “You’re lying! You’re barely in your twenties. That’s impossible!” I tilted my head. “The Apex Championship is split into twelve regional divisions. I was just a judge for one of the regionals, not the grand finale.” I paused, my eyes drifting over to a shell-shocked Connor. I let out a soft chuckle. “Twelve divisions. So funny. It matches your rank exactly.” Connor: “…” Hailey was practically stomping her feet. “Impossible! You’re definitely making this up.” I looked at her like she was an idiot. “The judges’ roster is public record online. Oh, and right—my name is Chloe Sterling.” 06 At first, the audience reacted exactly like Hailey. A unified wall of denial, aggressively accusing me of being a pathological liar. Until someone posted a screenshot of the official Apex Championship judges’ roster. There it was. Under the Sixth Regional Division, right in the middle of a list of foreign veterans with impossibly long names, the crisp, simple name “Chloe Sterling” stood out like a beacon. “Holy sh*t. She’s actually a judge.” “My god. Just qualifying to compete there is insane. To be on the judging panel… how good is she?!” “Okay, she’s amazing, but Hayes still sucks, right? The fact that he stole Connor’s spot doesn’t change just because his sister is a prodigy.” “Exactly! Don’t lose focus! Chloe might be a god, but Hayes still belongs in the trash.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chloe is kind of savage? LMAO look at Connor’s face, he looks like he’s going to throw up.” The tension was broken when Hayes came jogging back, happily clutching a bottle of water. I took it naturally and twisted the cap off. “What took so long?” “The crew was short-handed with the set dressing, so I helped out a bit.” “Oh. Well, everyone’s here. Let’s head up.” Hayes finally looked around, flashing a polite, sunny smile at the new arrivals. Then, he shuffled closer to me, lowering his voice. “Chloe, is it just me, or is the vibe super weird? What did you guys talk about while I was gone?” Connor and Hailey’s venomous glares instantly burned into the side of my head. I remained perfectly unfazed, tilting my head innocently. “Huh? Weird vibe? Not at all. We’re getting along fabulously.” 07 The four pairs of guests—eight people in total—arrived at the resort right around noon. The estate was massive, featuring a luxury hotel up front and sprawling orchards and farms in the back. True to form, the production crew abandoned us the second we dropped our bags. We were entirely responsible for our own survival. According to the rules of the previous season, this was the moment where the cast divided up the chores. Connor stepped into the center of the room, wearing a warm, perfectly manufactured smile. “Hailey and I will take care of the cooking. Lexi, how about you and your mom hit the farm and harvest some vegetables? Marcus, would it be too much trouble for you and your girlfriend to wash the produce and prep the rice?” Everyone had just hiked up a mountain. They were exhausted, sprawled across the living room furniture, completely drained. Lexi, a young up-and-coming pop singer, was terrified of being branded “lazy” by the internet. She forced a pained smile. “Sure.” Marcus, a veteran actor who knew exactly how reality TV editing worked, didn’t argue either. Finally, Connor’s gaze landed on Hayes and me. I was curled up deep in the sofa. As the camera panned over, everyone in the room—and the thousands watching online—clearly heard my phone blast an enthusiastic digital voice: “Three of a kind! Read ’em and weep!” “…” Hayes was sitting bolt upright next to me, looking like a nervous middle-schooler on his first day of class. Seeing Connor stare at us, he anxiously tugged my sleeve. “Chloe. Time to work.” I was currently annihilating my opponents in Texas Hold’em. I ignored him. Hayes awkwardly stood up and asked Connor, “Is there anything we can help with?” Connor’s expression softened slightly, thinking he had won. “Would you guys mind taking care of the dishes after lunch?” “All in!” I happily tapped my screen. Without looking up, I said, “Yes, we would mind.” Connor’s brow furrowed. “Lunch is only meaningful if it’s a collaborative group effort.” “Are you out of your mind?” I shifted my weight, starting a new hand. “We eat to stay alive. You’re only standing there acting like the boss because the cameras are rolling and everyone here is too polite to tell you off. Try assigning chores like that in your own house and see if your mom doesn’t slap you across the face.” “…” 08 Connor was visibly suppressing a vein popping in his forehead. “It’s just washing the dishes. You won’t even do something that simple?” I shrugged. “If it’s so simple, you and your sister can do it.” Connor finally snapped. “Everyone else is contributing. Does your conscience really not bother you, sitting there playing games while we work?” “Weren’t you the one handing out the assignments from the jump?” I finally looked up, my expression the picture of innocence. “You’re exploiting their good manners. Don’t try to morally kidnap me, sweetheart. I don’t have any morals to kidnap.” “…” Seeing her brother getting publicly humiliated, Hailey stormed over. “Chloe Sterling! I don’t care if you’re a world-class judge, you don’t get to act like a diva here! You’re contributing nothing! Do you expect us to cook and serve it to you on a silver platter?” Hayes tried to intervene, but hearing Hailey insult me made his protective instincts flare. “My sister isn’t like that!” he argued quietly. The live chat was a warzone: “Chloe’s attitude is absolute trash.” “Is she seriously waiting for them to feed her?” “The Sterling siblings are both leeches. Yuck!” Connor took a deep breath, playing the exhausted martyr. “I’m not obligated to cook for you. Since you refuse to help, you two can figure out your own lunch.” “Figure it out on our own?!” Hayes panicked, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Chloe, I didn’t even know you knew how to turn on a stove!” I stared at him. “Do you know how to wash dishes?” Before he could answer, I rolled my eyes. “You don’t even know how to wash your own socks.” Hayes: “…” Having delivered his ultimatum, Connor led the rest of the cast out to work. I nestled back into the couch and booted up another round of poker. Fifteen minutes later, Lexi returned with a basket, looking miserable. “There are chickens and fish out back, but my mom and I have no idea how to catch them.” Connor glanced at the pathetic pile of greens in her basket and offered a comforting smile. “It’s fine. A vegetarian meal is healthy.” He said that, but when a completely meatless, severely lacking spread of vegetables was finally placed on the dining table, everyone sat there awkwardly, unsure of how to pretend they were excited. Despite the depressing meal, Hailey couldn’t resist a victory lap. “Time to eat! My brother’s cooking is incredible, you guys have to try this.” She cast a pointed, mocking glance toward the living room where Hayes and I were sitting. “Looks like some people are going hungry today. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. I don’t feel sorry for them.” The second the words left her mouth, a booming voice echoed from the front lobby. “Delivery for Chloe Sterling?!” I kicked Hayes’s shin. “Go get it.” He looked bewildered. “Who is it, Chloe?” I was currently calculating pot odds, not looking up. “Oh. Uber Eats.” “…” 09 The dining table was massive, which only made the few plates of sad vegetables look even more pathetic. Hayes and I began unpacking the delivery, and within seconds, we had completely covered our half of the table. Crispy fried chicken, gourmet burgers, loaded spicy bowls, and a mountain of fries. The moment the lids came off, an overpowering, mouth-watering aroma hijacked the entire room. Hailey stared at us, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “You… you can’t order delivery!” I happily bit into a piece of perfectly fried chicken. “Is there a rule that says I can’t?” Hailey choked. “No one has ever ordered takeout on a reality survival show!” I took a massive sip of my Coke and looked at Hayes. “Is that true?” He took a very polite, reserved bite of his spicy bowl. “Yeah, Chloe. Never.” “Well, whatever. The crew didn’t stop the driver.” Right then, I heard a very distinct, very loud gulp. It was Lexi. There was absolutely no way the two of us could finish this feast. I waved my hand at the others. “Come on over, there’s plenty!” Lexi looked like she might cry from gratitude. “Can we really?” “Of course you can.” By the end of it, even Marcus and his girlfriend had abandoned the boiled cabbage and joined our side of the table. Connor and Hailey’s faces looked like they had just swallowed live wasps. They sat in suffocating silence, glaring daggers at us. Finally, they snapped. They slammed their chopsticks down. “Chloe, you are crossing a line.” I elegantly wiped my mouth with a napkin. “What did I do?” Hailey pointed a trembling finger at the still-massive pile of food. “You ordered way more than you needed! You’re just trying to buy everyone off and isolate us!” I was genuinely speechless at the sheer audacity. I gave her a thumbs up. “Usually, when assholes talk sh*t, it’s just for laughs. But you? You’ve elevated it to an art form.” Hearing that, Hayes nearly dropped his chopsticks, frantically reaching for my arm. “Chloe, don’t—” Unfortunately for him, he forgot one crucial detail about me. When I’m full, I have way too much energy. And when I have too much energy, I like to start fires. 10 Hailey’s eyes instantly welled up with angry tears. Connor rushed to his sister’s defense, his “nice guy” mask slipping. “Chloe, she was just trying to be considerate. She didn’t want to see everyone’s hard work go to waste. You ordered an absurd amount of food for two people. It’s perfectly normal for Hailey to question your motives.” I couldn’t even be bothered to fully open my eyes. “Mind your own business. I spent my own money. What right do you have to police my bank account?” Hearing me indirectly call him a meddling dog, Connor’s perfectly manicured composure shattered. “I was just trying to reason with you! Why do you keep insulting us?” I let out an “Oh,” and looked him dead in the eye, perfectly serious. “Not only will I insult you to your face, but if you’re ever having trouble hearing me, I’ll happily carve it right into your tombstone.” “…” Connor and Hailey stormed off, absolutely seething. Hayes looked like he was preparing for the apocalypse. “We’re dead. Chloe, the audience is definitely calling for our heads right now.” Since I was full and had nothing better to do, I pulled out my phone and opened the livestream. He was right. A massive chunk of the chat was screaming for our blood. “Chloe is so arrogant! Connor was just trying to be a good team player!” “She does zero work and has the audacity to roast people. Where did the producers even find her?” “Get Hayes and Chloe off my screen. They are insufferable.” But surprisingly, a counter-wave was fighting back. “Honestly, she’s not wrong. The show literally didn’t ban delivery.” “Yeah, our poor Lexi was exhausted and still forced to go pick vegetables. It was hard to watch.” “Marcus is a total carnivore. Forcing him to eat plain lettuce is a crime against humanity.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chloe is kind of a badass LMAO. I think I’m falling in love.” I watched the scrolling text for two seconds, then leaned over and whispered to Hayes. “Did you actually steal Connor’s debut spot? Did Dad pull strings for you?” Hayes looked horrified. “No! I snuck off to do the show behind Dad’s back. I would never dare ask him to rig it.” “Then how did you…” “I honestly have no idea! During the initial evaluations, I was graded a ‘D’. Then the second ranking hit and suddenly I had hundreds of thousands of votes. They confiscated our phones, so I didn’t even know who was voting for me. I was completely clueless when they announced I was second.” 11 That afternoon, Connor loudly rallied the rest of the cast to go explore the resort grounds. Noticeably, he didn’t invite Hayes and me. We were currently huddled on the couch, scrolling through the voting analytics and comment sections from his time in the survival show’s boot camp. Connor and Hailey shot us looks of supreme pity before they left, treating us like absolute idiots. I knew exactly what they were thinking. Going out meant the drones and the main crew would follow them, guaranteeing maximum screen time and traffic. By staying in the hotel, we were actively sabotaging our own relevance. Connor practically strutted out the door. At 2:00 PM, after we had finished combing through the data, I shot Hayes a look. Hayes hesitated. “Chloe, is this really a good idea…?” “Hurry up. Stop stalling.” He took a deep breath and opened an app on his phone. At the exact same moment, I turned to the single, stationary camera left in the living room. “Hayes and I are going live on IG right now. Room 645183. Come through if you’re interested.” Live chat: ??? Three seconds later, a tidal wave of viewers crashed into the livestream. Hayes and I were comfortably lounging on the couch, cracking sunflower seeds. I watched the chaotic blur of the chat and smiled. “Slow down, ask one at a time. No need to rush.” There were thousands of people, and the vast majority opened with immediate, aggressive insults. I casually multi-tasked, banning accounts with one hand while addressing them with the other. “Your mouth is pretty filthy. Did you forget to wipe after you talked out of your ass?” Once I had thoroughly terrified the chat into a semblance of order, I started picking questions. Chat: “How do you justify your brother stealing Connor’s debut spot?” I countered with a question of my own. “If you beat the guy in second place, what place are you in?” Chat: “First.” I nodded. “Exactly. Connor ranked twelfth. Why aren’t you going after him for being completely useless and failing to beat the guy in eleventh place? What does his failure have to do with my brother?” Chat: “…Wait, that kind of makes sense?” Chat: “But Hayes can’t even sing or dance! He didn’t deserve to debut. If they kicked him out, Connor would have made the cut!” Their questions were sharp, and Hayes looked at me like a kicked puppy. I shifted my weight, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “Are you guys all Connor’s diehard fans?” Chat: “No, we’re just casual viewers! We just hate seeing injustice.” I laughed out loud. “So, casual viewers are allowed to hate my brother, but casual viewers aren’t allowed to like him? If random people can passionately defend Connor, why couldn’t random people passionately vote for Hayes to debut?” A few commenters panicked. “Hayes has no talent! What would casual viewers even like about him?” “His face,” I stated, completely deadpan. “If Connor’s aggressively average, tragically rushed face can somehow attract fans, why wouldn’t people vote for someone as gorgeous as my brother? Since when is being hot a crime?” Chat: “…Okay, fair point.” Because, objectively speaking, Hayes’s face was a lethal weapon.

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