• Love Signals: My Ex-Boyfriend is the A-List Actor Setting the Internet on Fire

    During the Q&A segment of our dating reality show, the producer asked me: “Have you dated before?” I gave a polite, reserved answer: “Yes, but our personalities didn’t match, so we broke up.” Next, they interviewed the A-list actor, Liam Sterling. He answered: “Yes. My ex-girlfriend is actually on this dating show right now.” The production crew, smelling the drama, excitedly pressed: “Care to share which dating show?” The A-list actor smiled faintly at the camera: “The one we’re filming right now.” The internet exploded that very day. Netizens turned into detectives, trying to hunt down which female cast member was the actor’s ex. Meanwhile, I quietly backed away from him on set, hoping to distance myself as much as humanly possible. 1 Love Signals was a celebrity dating reality show that generated massive hype before it even aired. The highest buzz was surrounding the “Ice & Fire” pairing: A-list actor Liam Sterling and the rising pop star/actress, Chloe Vance. They had just finished airing a wildly popular fantasy drama where they played star-crossed, enemies-to-lovers. When Chloe made her entrance, the live chat went absolutely wild— “Ahhh Chloe is here! She’s so gorgeous!” “Chloe and Liam! Are they coming on this show to officially announce their relationship?!” “I’m shipping them so hard, the Ice & Fire ship is too sweet!” My reception was vastly different. When I stepped onto the screen, the live chat was flooded with boos— “Why did the show invite Maya Lin? She makes me sick!” “Maya is such a clout-chaser. She’s obviously just here to leech off the Ice & Fire ship.” “Bad publicity is still publicity, I guess. Some people have no shame.” This show utilized a live-stream format. Every weekend, an edited highlight reel would be uploaded to major streaming platforms like Netflix and Hulu. I was the first to enter the “Heartbeat Villa” set up by the production team. I chose the most secluded seat in the corner and sat down. The second person to walk in was Liam Sterling. My ex-boyfriend. 2 I shifted in my seat, subtly trying to put more distance between us. He raised an eyebrow. Before he could even say hello, a bright, giggling voice echoed from the grand entrance. “Oh my gosh, you guys are already here!” “Maya, long time no see!” “Liam, we meet again!” Chloe Vance was wearing a cute crop top and a denim skirt, looking incredibly youthful and bubbly. As soon as she walked in, she acted like she owned the place, plopping down right next to Liam and happily chatting him up. The production team had purposefully set up a large screen showing the live chat. I glanced at it— “Wow wow wow! The Ice & Fire ship is feeding us!” “So sweet! The way Liam looks at Chloe is pure fire!” “Please just announce it already, I’ve got my wedding gift money ready!” Ten minutes later, all eight cast members—four men and four women—had arrived. Half were celebrities, and half were elites from other industries. The producers had everyone take turns answering one question: Have you ever dated before? Chloe looked at Liam with a shy, coy smile and answered: “No, but I do have a type that I really admire.” The chat started shipping them aggressively again. When it was my turn, I gave a reserved answer: “Yes, but our personalities didn’t match, so we broke up.” The chat immediately found a way to insult me— “Lmao, ‘personalities didn’t match.’ More like she has a terrible personality, the guy couldn’t stand her, and he dumped her!” Then it was Liam’s turn to answer. Everyone waited in anticipation. His beautifully shaped lips curled up slightly, and he said in a slow, deliberate tone: “Yes. My ex-girlfriend is actually on this dating show right now.” 3 His answer was like dropping a bomb. Not only did the live chat explode, but even the show’s director couldn’t hide his excitement. The director pressed: “Care to share which dating show?” Liam’s gaze brushed over me, almost imperceptibly. I pretended I didn’t see a thing. Ahem. What is this guy playing at? Is he trying to drag me down to generate hype for his new rumored relationship? Dream on! I’m not cooperating. The director, itching for the scoop, asked again: “Can’t you tell us?” Liam let out a light chuckle, acting as if it were a joke: “The one we’re filming right now.” The live chat instantly melted down! “Is Liam telling the truth???” “Chloe must be Liam’s ex, right? No wonder their chemistry in that drama was so insane.” “Did Liam come on this dating show just to win back his old love?” “This is the most beautiful love story ever, I’m shipping them so hard!” 4 The show had its viral moment. The director was thrilled. But I was incredibly unthrilled. Taking advantage of a bathroom break, I texted Liam on WhatsApp: “Is your brain malfunctioning?” Liam: “Yeah, there’s water in it.” Me: “???” Liam didn’t reply again. The show was still filming, so I couldn’t stay away too long. I washed my hands and stepped out. Just in time for the room selection segment. I absolutely did not want to share a room with Chloe, but she intimately linked her arm through mine. “Maya, let’s share a room! It’s been so long since we caught up. We can stay up all night talking!” I pulled my arm away and said calmly: “We’re supposed to draw lots. Let’s stick to the rules of the game.” Why is she pretending we’re besties? We were on a variety show together before. She used me as a stepping stone, establishing her “gentle best friend” persona, then paid off the editors to maliciously cut my footage, causing me to get cyberbullied by the entire internet. Does she really think the same trick will work twice? “What is Maya’s problem?” “Chloe is being so nice, why is Maya being such an ungrateful bitch!” “Chloe, ignore her, she’s not worth it!” I didn’t care what the chat was saying. I stepped forward and drew a card first. Oh wow. Blessed by the RNG gods. I drew a single room. “Let’s help the girls carry their luggage upstairs, right?” One of the male cast members suggested. Seeing Liam walking toward my side of the room, I quickly grabbed my suitcase and sprinted up the stairs like an Olympic athlete. 5 Nighttime. It was time for the anonymous “Heartbeat Text” segment. I thought about it and sent an encouraging text to Noah Grant, a young actor who was just as unpopular as I was: “The weather was beautiful today. Hope you’re happy.” Ding! Someone sent me a Heartbeat Text. It read: “The water in my brain is the tears you cried yesterday.” I knew instantly it was from Liam. What a psycho. The live chat was guessing— “Who sent Maya a Heartbeat Text?” “Well, it definitely wasn’t Liam.” “Chloe got a text saying she looked beautiful today. That was 100% Liam.” “Is the Heartbeat Text just someone telling Maya her brain is full of water? Hahaha I’m dead!” 6 The next morning, I woke up naturally. Downstairs, Chloe was serving Liam breakfast. “Liam, I know you have a sensitive stomach, so I made you some oatmeal.” Liam looked up, glanced at me standing at the top of the stairs, and said flatly: “My stomach is fine.” Chloe’s smile faltered for a second before she recovered: “When we were on set before, you had a stomach ache once that really scared me! I’m just glad you’re all better now.” Liam didn’t respond. I figured I’d avoid them and started to head back to my room. “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” Liam called out to me. “I’ll eat later, thanks.” I replied politely. Chloe walked over to me with a beaming smile: “Skipping breakfast is a bad habit! I made a whole pot of oatmeal for Liam, but he can’t finish it all by himself. Why don’t you have a bowl?” She sounded exactly like his girlfriend. Her fans ate it right up. Even early in the morning, people were watching the stream— “Having a girlfriend like Chloe is such a blessing! Liam better cherish her!” “Liam said his stomach was fine because he didn’t want Chloe to worry. It’s a two-way street of love!” “Maya needs to leave, she’s ruining the shot. So unnecessary!” 7 I had nowhere to hide, so I decided to just cook some noodles myself. I inherited my cooking skills from my grandmother; it’s not something to scoff at. Back when Liam and I were still dating, he would always hold me and beg: “Baby, let’s go on a date to the farmer’s market today, please?” I’d laugh and push him away: “Is it a date, or are you just craving food?” He’d flip over, pin me down, and stare at me with those deep, dark eyes: “If you won’t let me crave good food, then I guess I’ll just have to crave you.” I could never say no to him. We’d wear disguises to look ugly and hold hands as we went to the market to buy groceries. The Heartbeat Villa didn’t have a ton of ingredients, so I decided to make a simple, traditional Hangzhou-style noodle soup. The savory aroma of the broth began to drift through the air. Noah, who had just come downstairs, let out a howl: “Who is seducing my stomach right now?!” I replied politely: “Noah, you haven’t eaten yet, right? I made a small pot, enough for two.” Before Noah could even walk over, Liam beat him to it. Liam’s “electric” eyes—as his fans called them—currently looked like a wet puppy’s as he stared at the pot: “Can I have some?” I silently backed away a bit: “Sorry, I already promised Noah.” The chat scoffed at me— “It’s just a bowl of noodles, what’s the big deal? Liam, let Chloe cook for you!” “Chloe is a great cook, she’s such a hidden gem!” Chloe must have seen the comments scrolling on the big screen. She winked playfully at me: “I’ll cook some noodles too! Let’s have a competition, Maya. Let’s see whose noodles taste better!” 8 The kitchen had two stoves. Chloe started her performance. Her movements were very elegant. I took one look. Oh, it’s because her French manicure is too long, making it hard to wash the vegetables. No wonder she’s slow. “Liam, could you help me tie the apron strings?” Chloe held up an apron, looking at Liam with pleading eyes. Coincidentally, Liam was also holding up a pink, women’s apron, as if he had anticipated this. Noah and I stood to the side, basically eating popcorn. Noah winked at me and whispered his gossip: “I already placed my bet. Five bags of spicy strips on guessing who Liam’s ex is.” I was surprised: “Where are you betting?” Noah: “You don’t know? The internet is going crazy. There’s a massive online poll guessing who Liam’s ex-girlfriend is. Chloe is currently at 99%.” Curious, I whispered: “How many votes do I have?” Noah gave me a look of pure pity: “0.008%.” Me: … Suddenly, Chloe let out a surprised gasp: “Liam?” Liam was holding the pink apron, but he was walking toward me. The guy moved too fast. Before I could dodge, he slipped the apron over my head. His cool fingertips brushed against the back of my neck, making me shiver involuntarily. He didn’t seem to notice. He seriously and tightly tied the strings behind my back. “Maya, do your best in the competition. I’ll be waiting for your noodles.” He took a step back, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile. 9 I never had any intention of competing with Chloe over cooking noodles. I was just about to take the apron off when I heard Chloe cry out in pain: “Ah! It burns!” She had lifted the pot lid and was probably hit by the steam. Chloe bit her lower lip, looking like she was on the verge of tears: “Liam… could you help me get some burn ointment? It’s in my suitcase in my room.” The fans in the live stream were heartbroken— “Oh my god, Chloe got burned! It must hurt so much!” “Liam, hurry up and help her apply the ointment! Go get it!” “Is Liam so heartbroken he froze? Why is he just standing there?” I couldn’t help but look at Liam. He smiled slightly, looking completely harmless, and said in a slow, deliberate tone: “I’m a guy. It’s not appropriate for me to go into the women’s bedrooms.” “Chloe, your legs are fine, right?” “Why don’t you go up to your room and get the ointment yourself? I’m afraid if you don’t hurry, the burn will heal itself.” I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter. This guy actually exposed his toxic, sharp-tongued nature on camera! I looked at Chloe’s hand. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it; it was just red from her rubbing it herself. But she acted like she was in agony, inhaling sharply and whining weakly: “Liam, you’re still joking around! Fine, fine, I know you respect boundaries. I’ll just go back to my room and apply it myself.” She stomped her foot and ran upstairs. The chat was thrilled— “Wow wow wow! Chloe said Liam respects boundaries, they are 100% a confirmed couple!” “No need to guess anymore, Liam’s ex is definitely Chloe.” “I’m calling her sister-in-law early!” “Liam, hurry up and win her back! My Ice & Fire ship can never sink!” 10 After breakfast, it was time for the blind date segment. According to the rules, the female cast members would draw lots. Unfortunately, I drew Liam. And Chloe drew Noah. The chat started raging immediately— “Is the production team trying to torture us on purpose?” “Watching Liam go on a date with Maya is worse than eating a hundred flies!” “Maya, you better know your place and swap with Chloe right now, or I’ll curse out your entire family!” The insults got uglier and uglier. Which only triggered my rebellious side. I originally wanted to swap with Chloe, but now I absolutely wasn’t going to. I smiled slightly at Liam: “Liam, I’ll be in your care today.” Liam returned his signature calm smile: “Don’t say that, Maya. The honor is all mine.” The date location the show had set up was a haunted house. Thanks a lot. I had been to a haunted house with Liam before. He looks cold and composed on the outside, but he’s actually terrified of ghosts. Last time, he was so scared by a female ghost NPC that he howled and clung to me for dear life. If that happened on camera, I wouldn’t just be getting my family cursed out. “You better act brave later!” Taking advantage of a gap before entering, when the cameras weren’t rolling, I warned Liam in a low voice. “Don’t jump on me.” Liam looked completely innocent: “Fear of ghosts is a psychological condition. I can’t control it.” I threatened him: “If you ‘can’t control it,’ I’ll leak all your embarrassing secrets.” Liam actually looked intrigued: “What embarrassing secrets do I have? Tell me.” I lowered my voice even more: “The aloof A-list actor is actually a massive simp behind closed doors. He sleeps hugging a plushie, and his mental age is exactly nine years old!” Liam raised an eyebrow and laughed: “Why does that sound kind of cute?” Me: … Narcissist! 11 The haunted house was chilling and pitch black. A bloody head swung from the ceiling. I felt Liam practically pressing against my back. I said loudly: “Liam, don’t be scared, it’s all fake!” Liam hissed: “It feels very real.” Just as he finished speaking, a horrifying NPC lunged out from a corner! Liam let out a howl and grabbed my wrist: “Maya! Where are you?!” I laughed out of sheer frustration. Where am I? In your demonic clutches! I tried to stay calm: “Liam, if you’re really scared, grab my jacket, and I’ll lead you out.” Liam didn’t hold back; he directly grabbed my hand. The night-vision cameras were rolling. Even though it wasn’t perfectly clear, it was enough for the audience to see. I decided to just embrace the chaos, dragging Liam in a dead sprint, talking absolute nonsense: “Liam, run! As long as you run faster than the ghosts, you’ll be fine!” Liam actually seemed amused by me. He squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, hard. Liam laughed again, whispering extremely quietly: “I’ll let you vent.” When we exited the haunted house, I noticed the production crew’s expressions were very colorful. There was a faint trace of the joy of eating drama. Me: ??? The makeup artist gestured for me to look at the live chat. I took a glance at her phone. “Am I deaf?! What did I just hear?!” “Liam called Maya ‘Maya’!” “Liam held Maya’s hand! He was holding it so tight!” “Everyone stay calm! We all know Liam is terrified of ghosts. It was just a subconscious action out of fear.”

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  • Cut Off and Cashed Out: My Ungrateful Student’s Karma

    The college admissions scores had just been released. The girl I had been financially sponsoring for the past four years sent me a text. She scored a 900 on her SATs—somehow even lower than her score last year. She texted me: Chloe, I don’t want to do another year of prep classes, and I really don’t want to go to a community college. A classmate told me I could study abroad at a private university, but the tuition and fees are going to be around $50,000. Chloe, I truly want to pursue my education. Can you please keep sponsoring me? 1 Sitting across from me, my best friend Sarah noticed me frowning as I set my phone face-down on the table. She looked at me, surprised. “What’s wrong? You look like you just swallowed a lemon.” I slid my phone across the table so she could read the text. “Where on earth did you find this entitled parasite? Fifty grand? The sheer audacity she has to even ask,” Sarah said, her eyes wide with disbelief. “So, what are you going to do?” “Tell her I’m pulling the plug on her sponsorship. I’m just trying to figure out how to word it.” Before I could even finish my sentence, another text chimed in. Chloe, I really need this educational opportunity. I know my test scores aren’t high. But Chloe, you know my family’s financial situation… I hope you can help me achieve my dreams. I will remember you forever. Thank you. Reading that little sob story didn’t change my mind. If anything, it made me realize that sponsoring her for the last four years had been a massive mistake. Suppressing my irritation, I typed out a reply. Mia, hi. I’m sorry to hear your scores weren’t what you hoped for. When we spoke last year, I made it very clear that this was your last chance. My condition for continuing the sponsorship was that you get accepted into a four-year state college. As for your plan to study abroad, I am not wealthy enough to afford a $50,000 tuition bill, so my hands are tied. Given the current circumstances, I am terminating my sponsorship. Moving forward, you’ll have to rely on yourself. Hitting send felt like a massive weight lifting off my chest. Sarah read the text over my shoulder and sighed. “You should have bluntly rejected her like this ages ago. Instead, you dragged it out for an extra year.” The screen showed Mia was typing, but no message ever came through. I assumed the matter was finally settled. 2 When I opened my front door and saw Mia and her mother standing in my hallway, I was genuinely shocked. Mrs. Gallagher was holding an assortment of cheap gift bags. Mia was looking down, tapping away on her phone. The moment she saw me, she shoved her phone in her pocket, practically lunged at me, and locked her arms around mine. “Chloe! I finally get to see you! I’ve been wanting to visit you forever, but school has been so busy I never had the chance.” “This girl has been talking my ear off about coming to see you, saying she needed to thank you for all your help over the years,” Mrs. Gallagher quickly chimed in. I glanced at the bags cluttering my hallway and said flatly, “Let’s go inside first.” They hadn’t even been sitting on my couch for five minutes before Mrs. Gallagher revealed their true motive. “We know the girl didn’t test well this year, and she felt too guilty to face you. But you know how it is—a girl without a real degree these days is going to struggle. Her dad is disabled, and I have to support both her and her little brother on my own. We simply don’t have the money to send her abroad. You’re the only person we could turn to.” I poured them two glasses of water and sat back. “Universities abroad still have academic standards. With her grades, even if she goes overseas, she won’t get into a reputable school. Finding a good job when she comes back will be just as difficult.” “I already asked around! It only takes $50,000 to get the degree, and when she comes back, they guarantee job placement with a starting salary of $80,000 a year!” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mrs. Gallagher, things like that don’t exist. Whoever told you that is running a scam.” Mrs. Gallagher’s face immediately hardened. “I may not have a college degree, but I’m not an idiot.” “Chloe, you have to believe us. It’s real,” Mia insisted. “My boyfriend—well, a guy in my class—is going too. If we apply together, they even give us a discount.” I shook my head. “That makes it sound even more like a scam.” “It’s real! Look, I’ll show you the texts.” Mia shoved her phone in my face. The chat was open to a contact saved as “Baby Bear.” She glanced at me, and seeing I wasn’t reacting, quickly backed out to pull up the contact for the “agent” she had mentioned. The agent’s pitch was flawless. They claimed to represent globally recognized universities—top-tier schools across Europe and Australia, take your pick. They didn’t care about your GPA; as long as you paid the fee, they would ensure you passed the interview and got your visa. If you chose to return to the States after graduation, they guaranteed an $80,000/year corporate job. Hell, if it were real, I’d want to sign up. I had been busting my back in the corporate world for two years and barely cleared $5,000 a month. “This is an obvious fraud,” I said firmly. “Studying abroad doesn’t work on a ‘flat-rate package’ deal, and costs vary wildly depending on the country. If it were this easy, why would anyone even bother taking the SATs? We’d all just pay a fee, go abroad, and come back to guaranteed $80K salaries.” “That’s just because other people don’t have the right connections! This isn’t an opportunity just anyone can get.” Mrs. Gallagher leaned in close, lowering her voice like we were discussing state secrets. “These spots are strictly allocated. Mia is just incredibly lucky to have access to one.” I looked at Mia, who was staring at her phone with a dopey, lovesick smile. I sighed inwardly. “Mia, how exactly did you get this ‘spot’?” Hearing her name, Mia quickly locked her screen and turned to me. “My boyfriend pulled some strings through his relatives. His uncle is a massive real estate developer in New York with huge connections. That’s how we got the VIP allocation.” Her face was plastered with a smile so smitten it looked glued on. A rich developer uncle? Massive connections? I instantly knew exactly what was going on. “Mrs. Gallagher, I’m telling you, you’ve met a con artist. He’s just trying to drain your bank accounts.” “Impossible. Why would he be a scammer?” Mrs. Gallagher waved me off, utterly dismissive. Since the mother was a brick wall, I pivoted to the daughter. “Mia, listen to me. Nothing your boyfriend is telling you is true.” She blinked, totally failing to process my bluntness. “I don’t know how long you’ve been dating this guy, but everything he’s pitching is a lie. I highly suspect he’s trying to scam you out of your money. I strongly suggest you call the police.” Mia’s eyes went wide, acting as if I had just uttered absolute heresy. “Call the police? For what?!” Mrs. Gallagher erupted. “You just don’t want to pay up! You only agreed to sponsor us in the first place to look like a saint on social media! Now that Mia found a boyfriend with real money and power, you’re jealous!” “Yeah, Chloe! How could you be so mean?” Mia chimed in, tears brimming in her eyes as if I were a heartless monster. “Just because I accepted your financial help doesn’t mean I lose the right to fall in love!” “Trey said that when they get back from Europe, he’s going to build her brother a massive three-story house back in our hometown! He’s not a scammer! You just can’t stand seeing us do well. Honestly, if we knew you were going to be this stingy, we would have found a different sponsor. We wouldn’t have to sit here begging you while you act superior. We’d already have the money wired!” Mrs. Gallagher ranted. Seeing my face turn to ice, Mia tugged her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, stop.” “Why should I stop? She should have sponsored you and your brother from the start! Instead, she decided to split her money and sponsor two different families to double her clout. If she had just given us all the money, I wouldn’t have to work so hard!” Hearing that, any remaining shred of politeness I had vanished. I stood up and pointed to the door. “I don’t have the money to fund your delusion. If you want to study abroad, figure it out yourselves. It’s late, and I have work tomorrow. Please leave.” Mia’s face went pale. “Chloe, it’s so late. We don’t know anyone in this city. You’re really not going to let us stay the night?” “There’s a hotel right down the street.” “You gave us a little bit of charity and think you’re royalty?! Fine! I refuse to believe we’ll sleep on the street!” Mrs. Gallagher grabbed Mia with one hand, snatched her cheap gift bags with the other, and stormed out, slamming my door so hard the walls shook. The mother-daughter duo successfully completely cured my burnout from work. Turns out, there really are things in this world far more nauseating than a 9-to-5 job. 3 I thought ambushing me at my apartment was the lowest they could go. I underestimated them. They showed up at my workplace. Mrs. Gallagher’s exact logic was: How can a liar who breaks her promises be allowed to work in the public sector, supposedly serving the community? This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. They dragged along Mia’s disabled father and her fragile younger brother, Kevin. The whole family camped out in the main lobby of the City Hall permit office. Mrs. Gallagher marched up to every single service window, loudly broadcasting her sob story. She claimed I had promised to fund Mia’s entire university education, but now I was going back on my word and refusing to pay. She cried about how they brought me hometown gifts out of the goodness of their hearts, only for me to turn up my nose and kick them out onto the street at night. She wailed that if I wasn’t going to fund Mia’s college, I shouldn’t have stolen the sponsorship spot from wealthy corporate donors who actually had money. Now, Mia was doomed to rot in their dead-end hometown because I was a greedy liar. She put on such a tear-jerking performance you’d think she was auditioning for an Oscar. I had funded this girl for four years. Because she wanted an exorbitant amount of money to go abroad, I said no, and suddenly I was the villain of the century? In just a few days, she successfully made me the most famous person in my department. Sitting at my front-desk window, I could feel the side-eyes and whispers from my coworkers. But because I worked at the public-facing front desk, I had no valid excuse to have security throw them out without causing a PR nightmare. “Chloe, Director Davis is back from his conference. He wants to see you in his office.” After the family had terrorized my lobby for four straight days, my boss returned from a two-week training trip early. Clearly, the circus downstairs had prompted his early return. “Chloe. Come in, sit,” Director Davis greeted me with his usual warm, politician smile. I forced a polite smile back. “Good morning, Director.” I sat down, feeling incredibly anxious. “I’ve heard about the situation downstairs,” he said, taking a slow sip from his thermos. “Why don’t you walk me through exactly what’s going on?” “I started sponsoring Mia when I was a junior in college. $500 a month. I had come into a little bit of money that year, and I just wanted to do something good, so I picked two students to help out. Last year, she failed her college entrance exams, so I terminated the agreement. But she begged me, saying if she didn’t do a prep year, her mom was going to force her into an arranged marriage just to collect a dowry for her brother. I agreed to sponsor her for one final year. The condition was that she had to get into a state college. If she failed again, the money stopped.” “I see. I know your character, Chloe. Doing a good deed is commendable,” Director Davis said, rubbing his temples. “But this family causing a scene in the lobby every day… we can’t let this continue.” “I know, Director. I’ll handle it.” “With people like this, you can’t just throw money at the problem to make them go away. They’re a bottomless pit.” “I understand.” “If you need help, don’t try to shoulder it alone. We have your back,” he said thoughtfully. “Have security bring them up to my office. I’ll have a word with them.” “Thank you so much, Director.” As I walked downstairs, I ran into the family of four being escorted up by the security guards. Mrs. Gallagher shot me a triumphant, arrogant glare, strutting like she owned the building. “Mia,” I called out to the girl trailing at the back. She flinched, surprised I was speaking to her. “What’s the matter? Finally willing to talk to us?” Mrs. Gallagher sneered, assuming my silence over the past few days meant I had caved. “You gave us a few pennies and think you’re God. If we knew you were just a miserable 9-to-5 desk jockey, we would never have taken your money! I’ll make a scene every day until you’re completely humiliated. Let’s see if you dare bully us again.” “Mia, for the last four years, I wired your tuition and your $500 monthly living expenses on time, every single month. You told me you would study hard to repay my kindness. Is this how you repay me?” I stared dead into Mia’s eyes. “Have I ever asked you for anything unreasonable? Have I ever mistreated you? Don’t you think causing a scene at my job is completely immoral?” “$500?!” Mrs. Gallagher gasped like she had just been struck by lightning. She slapped Mia hard on the shoulder. “You ungrateful brat! You told me she only sent $300! Where did the other $200 go?!” Kevin lunged forward, grabbing his sister’s arm. “Did you hide money from me?! Give it back!” Being yanked back and forth by her mother and brother, Mia finally snapped. She ripped her arm away and screamed, “I gave it to Trey!” She shot me a venomous glare. “Trey’s wealthy parents despise my background. They cut off his credit cards to force us to break up, so I gave the money to him!” “But that was supposed to be my money!” Kevin whined. “Oh, shut up, look at the big picture! Once your sister and Trey come back from studying abroad, do you really think we’ll care about a few hundred bucks?” Mrs. Gallagher beamed at Mia as if looking at a winning lottery ticket. Suddenly, her eyes shifted back to me, filled with absolute disgust. “If you hadn’t shoved your way in, the person sponsoring Mia would have been a real millionaire! An actual CEO! Not a fraud who can’t even scrape together $50,000. You’re broke, but you still pretend to be rich.” I let out a dark chuckle. “If I hadn’t sponsored her, you would have sold her off for a dowry four years ago. Did you forget?” “Th-that was a special circumstance!” Mrs. Gallagher stammered. “Besides, Mia found Trey on her own! It’s her own blessing! You don’t have the money anyway, so this is none of your business!” I didn’t bother arguing with the mother. I just looked at Mia. But in her eyes, I couldn’t find a single trace of gratitude or apology. Perfect. Four years of charity, wasted on a snake. Director Davis stepped out of his office, saw us in the hallway, and ushered everyone inside. “I’m familiar with your situation,” Director Davis said with his signature smile, taking a slow sip of his tea. “What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?” “Director, Chloe promised to sponsor Mia through college, but now that Mia’s grades slipped, she’s backing out. We couldn’t swallow that injustice, so we came to find her. Just because a kid struggles in school doesn’t mean she should be stripped of her right to an education, does it?” Mrs. Gallagher’s rapid-fire guilt trip even caught Director Davis off guard for a second. “We’re reasonable people. We just want you to judge the situation fairly. How can someone with zero integrity like her be allowed to work here?” “Chloe is an exceptional employee. Her work ethic is recognized by everyone in this building,” Director Davis interrupted smoothly. “Well, she’s your employee, and she promised to pay for Mia’s college. Since she doesn’t have the money, Director, don’t you think your office should allocate some public funds to solve this issue?” I swear, even a seasoned veteran like Director Davis blue-screened for a second when he heard that. I certainly didn’t expect Mrs. Gallagher to drop a demand so delusional it could shatter the sound barrier. “Chloe’s charitable contributions are strictly personal actions. They have absolutely nothing to do with this office,” Director Davis replied, recovering his diplomatic tone. “You’re a massive government office, and you don’t have a charity fund?” Mrs. Gallagher pressed, refusing to give up. “Sponsoring Mia is an investment with infinite returns! You really don’t have a precedent for this?” “If you’re looking for charity, I suggest you contact the Red Cross,” Davis said, glancing at them. “Though, somehow, I doubt they’ll fund an international vacation.” “I don’t care! Your employee made a promise. If she doesn’t have the money, you need to figure it out!” Mrs. Gallagher had fully transitioned into throwing a toddler’s tantrum. “Chloe doesn’t have money?” Director Davis looked at me, thoroughly amused. “Chloe, did you not explain your financial situation to them?” 4 Yes, I was just a regular 9-to-5 employee. But during my junior year of college, my family received a massive payout from a corporate eminent domain buyout of our land. It wasn’t “buy-a-private-jet” money, but it was enough that if I budgeted well, I wouldn’t have to stress about bills for the next two hundred years. I wanted to put some of it to good use, so I picked two students to sponsor. I never expected them to worship the ground I walked on. I just wanted to help people who actually needed it. But I never anticipated creating a monster like Mia. The moment Mia and her mother realized I actually did have money, the speed at which their attitudes flipped was genuinely breathtaking. Mia was suddenly calling me “Chloe” with nauseating sweetness, blaming her “youth and immaturity” for her past behavior. She claimed she was just so desperate to study that it clouded her judgment. Her mother parroted the same nonsense, claiming her “fierce maternal love” made her act disrespectfully. Mrs. Gallagher even went back downstairs to all the service windows, aggressively singing my praises to my coworkers and asking them to “take good care of me.” The whiplash was so severe my coworkers looked at her like she belonged in a psych ward. But true to form, they operated entirely on their own shameless logic, uncaring of how unhinged they looked. The venom they spewed yesterday matched the sickeningly sweet flattery they poured on me today. In just a few days, this mother-daughter duo taught me that when someone truly abandons all shame, there is absolutely no limit to what they are capable of. They started camping outside my apartment again—this time, practically trying to force-feed me home-cooked meals. Her disabled father limped around my hallway, sweeping my doormat. And Kevin, the frail, delicate brother, waited for me outside my office every morning and evening, claiming he was there to “protect” me. People talk about getting milked like a cash cow, but this family was trying to harvest my organs. I had sponsored a student and accidentally adopted a whole lineage of parasites. Director Davis loved watching the karma unfold, but at the end of the day, it was my mess to clean up. I sighed in defeat. “Mia, come here.” Hearing me finally address her directly, Mia’s face lit up with pure ecstasy. “Yes? What is it, Chloe?” “Regarding the funds for you to study abroad,” I said, my tone completely flat. The moment those words left my mouth, the entire family swarmed me like vultures. “Are you willing to sponsor me?!” Mia’s eyes practically glowed in the dark. “Let me explain my situation.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I don’t spend a lot of money on a daily basis. My funds are locked in high-yield Certificates of Deposit. If I withdraw the money early, the penalty fees are massive.” “So after all that talk, you’re just making excuses not to pay us,” Kevin sneered, rolling his eyes. I completely ignored him. “If I am going to continue the sponsorship, we have to sign a legally binding contract. I will only wire the money directly to the educational institution for tuition. Furthermore, you must guarantee you will actually graduate and receive a legitimate diploma.” “Yes, yes, absolutely! I promise I will study so hard!” Mia nodded furiously. “Like I said, my money is locked up. It matures in exactly fifteen days. That is the earliest I can access the funds.” “Ah, is that so?” Mia looked deeply distressed. “Chloe, can’t you just take the penalty fee and withdraw it early? My family already took out a huge loan to start building my brother’s house… Just pull it out early, and we’ll pay you back whatever the penalty fee is!” I stared at the girl flashing me a brilliant smile. Pay me back the penalty fee? The absolute delusion. “This is my final offer,” I said coldly. “Until those fifteen days are up, do not contact me.” Realizing I left zero room for negotiation, Mia pouted and muttered an “Okay.” “And stop lurking around my apartment,” I added, looking at the family of four buzzing with greedy excitement. “In fifteen days, bring the contract to my office, and we’ll sign the paperwork.” “Chloe, you are the absolute best! Our whole family thanks you!” Before leaving, Mia forced me into a massive, suffocating hug. As Mrs. Gallagher walked away, she loudly praised my “kind and generous heart.” I funded Mia for four years and never got a single word of thanks. Now, I was making them wait fifteen days, and suddenly I was a saint. Was I being kind and generous? No. I was simply respecting the fate they chose for themselves.

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  • I Paid My Debt: How I Escaped the Billionaire Who Broke Me

    After caring for the paralyzed billionaire CEO for two years, he finally recovered. The very first thing he did was propose to his childhood sweetheart—the same woman who abandoned him the moment he was injured. The media called it a fairy tale: “True love stays, until they finally become one.” I tilted my head back, watching the live broadcast of the proposal on the giant Times Square billboard in silence. Then, I tossed the ring in my pocket into the nearest trash can. The debt I owed him was finally paid in full. 1 The busy pedestrians in Times Square all stopped in their tracks, looking up at the live broadcast of the proposal flashing across the giant digital billboards. It wasn’t just here; every major screen in New York City had been switched to the same live feed. The footage was crystal clear in 4K. You could even see the faint, shimmering tears in the heroine’s eyes. One look at the extravagant setup and I knew it was Arthur Sterling’s work. During the final months of his recovery, he had sketched the designs himself. He even personally designed the fireworks display. Back then, he used to hook a cold finger around the back of my neck and ask me what kind of flowers I liked. I told him hyacinths. But the entire proposal venue on the screen was engulfed in a passionate sea of red roses. And the heroine standing there wasn’t me. It was Arthur’s ex-girlfriend, the celebrity fashion designer, Chloe Vance. I tilted my head back calmly. The proposal had reached its climax. Arthur was down on one knee, holding a black velvet box. The diamond inside sparkled like a fallen star. Compared to that, the band in my pocket couldn’t even be called a ring. The girls standing next to me squealed in excitement: “Arthur Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Enterprises! He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back! No wonder they used to call him the ultimate playboy of Manhattan. Looks like the playboy is finally settling down.” “I heard that during the two years Arthur was paralyzed, Chloe turned down all her fashion gigs just to stay and take care of him! What a fairy-tale romance! They’re finally getting married!” I silently massaged my wrist, my fingers grazing the faded, grayish-brown scar left from those two grueling years of caring for him. The Chloe Vance of two years ago didn’t stay. The moment Arthur and I broke up, she flew straight to Milan to advance her fashion career. The crowd around me collectively held their breath as the proposal reached its final moment. Chloe looked down at the young man kneeling before her, her voice choking with emotion as she said, “I will.” The ring was slipped onto her ring finger. Arthur stood up and pulled her into a passionate kiss. At that exact moment, fireworks exploded across the New York skyline. With a spectacle this massive, not just New York, but probably the whole country knew by now. But thinking about it, it was perfectly in character for him. Arthur Sterling never did anything quietly. When he loved someone, he wanted the whole world to know. The crowd erupted in cheers. The girl standing next to me, vibrating with excitement, grabbed my wrist, barely containing her thrill. “They’re so perfect for each other, don’t you think?” I endured the sharp pain in my wrist and smiled faintly. “They are.” She noticed my pale face and, belatedly realizing she was gripping me too hard, let go and started to apologize. But before she could, I had already turned and walked away into the bustling crowd. Behind me, the protagonists on the giant screen were lost in a deep kiss. The crowd screamed and cheered for their epic romance, and the fireworks painted the sky in brilliant, chaotic colors. Suddenly, I stopped next to a trash can. I crouched down, took a deep breath to compose myself, and then stood back up. I pulled the dull, tarnished ring from my pocket. It was ugly, and the band was far too wide for my finger. But thankfully, there was no longer any need for me to keep it. I tossed the ring into the trash. My heart had never felt this calm. I didn’t shed a single tear. From this moment on. Whatever I owed the Sterling family, whatever I owed Arthur Sterling… I had paid it back in full. 2 I was kicked out of Sterling Enterprises. I used to have a private executive office, but today, I didn’t even get a cubicle. A woman from HR shoved a cardboard box into my arms. “Assistant Hayes, your things are in here.” I had a good relationship with the staff, so she lowered her voice sympathetically. “Mr. Sterling personally ordered your termination. But your severance package is generous. You should leave while you can.” Her tone was actually polite. I could guess Arthur’s exact words: Tell her to get the hell out. I could picture him leaning back in his leather chair, a lazy, indifferent look in his eyes, completely dismissing my existence. Struggling under the weight of the heavy box, I walked past my old office. I finally saw who its new owner was. It had already been converted into Chloe’s private lounge, her fashion sketches scattered carelessly across the desks. Intimate photos of her and Arthur plastered the walls, completely covering the space where my dense, meticulously planned itinerary boards used to hang. I lowered my eyes, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edges of the box. But the tension released just as quickly. Whatever. 3 In the crowded lobby of the corporate headquarters, I was shoved and fell to the floor. The cardboard box tumbled, scattering my belongings everywhere. There were too many people swarming the entrance. Someone’s sharp stiletto heel stepped hard onto the back of my hand, sending a piercing, agonizing pain shooting up my arm. The swarm of journalists and bystanders were all surging in one direction. Fighting through the pain, I looked up just in time to see Chloe appear, arm-in-arm with a man. She loved the color red. Her sleek, crimson slip dress was eye-catching, but the man beside her was even more radiant. Arthur hated crowds, and he looked visibly annoyed, turning his head slightly away from the flashes, yet he still meticulously shielded Chloe in his arms. The reporters blocked their path, thrusting microphones forward, firing questions one after another: “Chloe! The hashtag #ProposalOfTheCentury has been trending number one on X for a whole week! As the leading lady, do you have anything to say?” Chloe smiled radiantly. “I’m just incredibly grateful. During the darkest two years of his life, the person by his side… was always me.” Arthur Sterling. The golden boy of New York. He had sailed through life, standing at the absolute peak of society. The only time he ever fell was during the two years he was paralyzed after a horrific car crash. When the walls crumbled, everyone he knew abandoned him, leaving him to taste the bitter cruelty of the world. Anyone had the right to say those words—except Chloe. Back then, she had immediately booked a flight out of the country. I was the only one left by his side. It was such a blatant lie. But Arthur looked genuinely happy hearing it. He didn’t correct her. In fact, he indulged the lie completely. Arthur looked down, gazing at Chloe with profound tenderness. It was as if a raging wildfire had finally met a calming river and settled. Camera shutters clicked frantically. The paparazzi eagerly captured the deep, affectionate gaze exchanged between the two. Suddenly, Arthur turned his head. His gaze cut straight through the crowd and locked directly onto my eyes. His look was incredibly cold. I looked back at him quietly, offering a faint, shallow smile. My heart felt incredibly light. He instinctively furrowed his brows in displeasure. Actually, I was also incredibly grateful. During the darkest two years of his life, I was the one who stayed by his side. The life debt I owed him had been repaid in full. 4 The Uber I called was taking forever. Between the low blood sugar and the sharp pain in my stomach, I couldn’t stand it anymore and crouched down by the curb, clutching my stomach. The hand that had been stepped on was already swollen, bruised, and bleeding. It hurt terribly. Chloe really was special to Arthur. I had known Arthur for a very long time. He had been the crown prince of the Sterling family since he was born. Growing up, he had endless rumors and flings, but the only girlfriend he ever publicly acknowledged was Chloe Vance. It made perfect sense that they would reunite. It was a classic romance trope. A sudden honk startled me. I looked up to see a sleek black Maybach pulling up right in front of me. The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing Arthur’s lazy, handsome face. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. “Stomach acting up again?” My eyelashes fluttered slightly. He let out a scoff, his eyes filled with mocking disgust. “Serves you right.” I lowered my eyes. It felt like we had rewound time by two years. This was exactly how Arthur treated me back then. He was always this vicious to me. He used to say that the fact someone like me was even allowed to breathe the same air as him was a charity. Only now did I finally realize that all the tenderness he showed me later was an act. He was just terrified that if I left, no one would be left to take care of him while he was paralyzed. I decided to just ignore him. The click-clack of heels approached from behind. Chloe walked past me, opened the passenger door, and whined playfully, “Arthur, I’m so sorry I’m late! Those reporters were so annoying. I should have let you go first, you’re so much better at handling them.” As she buckled her seatbelt, Chloe turned her head and saw me. Her voice caught in her throat, and her face paled slightly. She hurriedly urged, “Arthur, let’s go! We’re gonna be late for our dinner reservation!” Arthur frowned, clearly annoyed by the rush. Fighting the pain in my stomach, I looked up at Arthur, figuring this would be the last time I ever spoke to him. “I watched the livestream of your proposal. The venue looked even more beautiful than the sketches you drew.” Except that it was filled with roses instead of hyacinths, everything was perfect. I thought for a moment and added, “I wish you both… a lifetime of happiness.” Arthur stopped smiling. The hand resting on the car window suddenly clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning stark white, as if what he just heard wasn’t a blessing at all. On that hand rested a gleaming engagement ring. I lowered my eyes, dodging the intense, unreadable look Arthur was giving me. Chloe went quiet for a second before saying softly, “Arthur, we’re running late. Let’s not waste time on irrelevant people.” A very faint voice drifted down from above me. Arthur said, “Mia. Don’t regret this.” He waited for a moment. When I didn’t respond, he scoffed, restarted the engine, and slammed on the gas, speeding off. I looked up in a daze, only catching the taillights of the black Maybach disappearing into the distance. He drove aggressively, exactly like the way he used to street-race sports cars years ago. Even if it was a blessing, as long as it came from my mouth, Arthur would find a way to get irrationally angry. He was psycho. But I didn’t regret a thing. 5 I waited so long for the Uber that I was starting to give up, when my phone suddenly buzzed. A notification popped up, concise and to the point: “Where are you?” I hesitated for a second before dropping a pin with my location. Half an hour later, I was sitting in the back of a luxury SUV, extending my hand stiffly. The young man sitting across from me lowered his eyes, carefully cleaning and bandaging the wound on the back of my hand. Julian lifted his gaze. “Does it hurt?” Every time he moved, my body tensed up nervously, but I shook my head. Julian lowered his head again and gently blew on my hand. The cool breath made my fingers curl inward. I widened my eyes and repeated, “I said it doesn’t hurt.” Only then did Julian release my hand, speaking in a slow, deliberate drawl, “Didn’t hear you.” Right now, I felt like a rogue knight who had defected to the enemy’s camp. As Arthur’s former executive assistant and loyal shadow, I knew that nine out of ten times Arthur got into a fight, it was with Julian Reed. From their prep school days all the way to corporate boardrooms, the two had always been mortal enemies. Especially during the two years Arthur was paralyzed, Julian had aggressively acquired almost all of his key assets. Even though I had absolutely nothing to do with Arthur anymore, old habits die hard. Being around his rival still felt deeply unnatural. Julian leaned back lazily. “There’s a gala tonight. I need a plus-one.” I looked down at my freshly bandaged hand. “Is Arthur going to be there?” Julian hummed in confirmation. I stopped looking at him, and after a long silence, I finally spoke: “If you’re trying to use me to piss off Arthur, you’re going to be disappointed. He doesn’t care about me at all.” My voice was soft, quietly stating a simple fact. Julian was spinning a silver Zippo lighter in his hand. The brief flash of the flame illuminated his sharp knuckles. He said, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” I turned my head to look at the city streets blurring past the window and let out a small laugh. I thought about the Arthur Sterling I knew when I was seventeen. In front of all his rich, elite friends, he had laughed—a wild, contemptuous, arrogant laugh. He had said: “Mia Hayes?” “There is absolutely no fucking way I would ever like Mia Hayes.” 6 When I was brought to the high-end boutique to get fitted for a gown, Julian stayed the entire time. He had incredibly high standards. I tried on over a dozen luxury gowns, and he rejected every single one. Honestly, I didn’t want to go to this gala, but Julian insisted, and I had no choice. Half a month ago, when I left the Sterling estate, I wasn’t allowed to take a single thing with me. It was Julian’s grandmother who temporarily took me in. So, whatever Julian wanted me to do, I would do my best to accommodate him. When I finally tried on a silver-white gown, the skirt shimmering like the Milky Way, Julian’s gaze finally stopped. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “That one.” I looked at the mirror beside me and froze. The woman in the mirror was unfamiliar yet familiar, so breathtakingly beautiful it made me dizzy. It was as if the quiet, plain girl who had spent years blending into the background behind Arthur Sterling had suddenly stepped into the blinding spotlight. I had never seen myself look like this before. I reached out, timidly touching the cold glass of the mirror. Julian stood behind me, a diamond necklace slipping through his fingers. He leaned in slightly to clasp it around my neck. His breath was burning hot against my skin as he drawled lazily: “Mia. I’m not making you wear this to piss them off.” “I just want Arthur Sterling to realize that he wasn’t just paralyzed. He’s also fucking blind.”

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  • Shattered Canvas: The Price of Their Regret

    The two boys I grew up with misunderstood me, bullying me relentlessly for the sake of their golden girl. They burned my stomach with a cigarette and crushed my drawing hand. Their voices were ice-cold: “Sydney, this is what you owe Serena.” When the truth finally came to light, they still shielded the real bully behind them: “So what if we hit her? She’s not dead.” It wasn’t until the plot’s influence started wiping my memories of them that they finally regretted it. The two former best friends brawled in the streets over me. They dropped to their knees, begging me not to leave, their voices trembling: “You promised we’d be best friends for the rest of our lives.” 1 When I arrived, Caleb was still shooting hoops. He casually lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his jersey riding up to reveal a lean waist. Asher sat on the bleachers drinking water, an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers. The indoor court was completely empty. Seeing me, Caleb dribbled the ball, his tone impatient. “Why are you so late?” “The line for the boba place was really long today.” During our afternoon classes, Caleb had suddenly texted me demanding a drink from a specific shop. I knew his volatile temper well, so I skipped class and waited in line for two hours. But I was still late. Out of habit, I started to apologize: “I’m sor—” Thump. The heavy thud of a basketball slamming into my chest cut me off. The sheer force knocked me to the hardwood floor, but my hands instinctively protected the two cups of boba. I didn’t want to go back and wait in that line again. A sharp pain shot up my legs. I winced, letting out a soft hiss. “My bad. Slipped.” Caleb offered a half-hearted, careless apology, then crouched down and pulled out his phone. “How much was it?” Before I could answer, he swiftly transferred the money. The notification for a $5,000 transfer echoed loudly in the dead-silent gym. “It didn’t cost that much.” I frowned, instinctively reaching for my phone to send the excess back. But the moment I pulled it out, Caleb snatched it from my hand. And smashed it violently against the floor. I stared blankly at the shattered screen. I tried to push down the rising fear and ache in my chest, reasoning with myself that $5,000 was enough to buy a new phone anyway. No wonder he sent so much. But a second later— “How could it not cost that much?” Caleb’s lip curled. As he looked at me, he suddenly grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back against the floor. He sneered. “Aren’t you desperate for cash? Didn’t you take three grand to hire Vance’s crew to harass Serena?!” The back of my head struck the hardwood hard. A blinding pain swallowed me whole. The boba tea I had protected spilled everywhere, the hot liquid soaking my clothes. I gritted my teeth against the pain. My first instinct was to explain: “I didn’t!” “Caleb.” A smooth, calm voice drifted over. It was Asher. Caleb was a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark, but Asher had always been gentle. He would listen to reason. I looked up at him, pleading for help. But Asher just said: “Hurry it up.” He looked down, shielding his lighter’s flame. “And cover her mouth. Her crying is annoying.” When he glanced at me, his eyes were filled with undisguised disgust. I froze. And then, an uncontrollable, freezing chill seeped into my very bones. 2 A long, long time ago, my relationship with Caleb and Asher wasn’t this toxic. My mother was a maid for Asher’s family, the Montgomerys. I had known them since we were toddlers. You could even say we were childhood sweethearts. Caleb had a vicious temper and threw punches over the slightest insult. Asher seemed warm and gentle, but deep down, he was aloof and incredibly hard to get close to. But they were so good to me. Whenever I got bullied, Caleb was always the first to step up and fight them off. “There are tissues in my bag.” He’d throw punches with one hand while barking orders at Asher without looking back. “Get the scented ones and wipe her tears.” Caleb used to complain that carrying tissues was unmanly. So Asher became the designated comforter, doubling as Caleb’s lookout. I had a sweet tooth, so Asher always kept candy in his pockets. “Guess what flavor I have today?” The beautiful young boy would coax me softly. “If you guess right, you can have three pieces.” But whether I guessed right or wrong, I always ended up eating only one piece. One for me, one for Asher, one for Caleb. Asher always knew I would never hoard them for myself. “Orange again?” Caleb, having chased off the neighborhood kids, would take my backpack, tear open a wrapper, pop the candy into his mouth, and frown. “Can’t you buy a different flavor next time?” “I didn’t buy them for you.” “Whatever. Just get something I like next time.” “Sure. I’ll just take your allowance next month to pay for it.” “Asher, you extortionist!” On the surface, they bickered constantly. Though it was usually just Caleb yelling, while Asher gently but ruthlessly fired back. I’d stand between them, desperately trying to play peacemaker, until Caleb would laugh, carelessly throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Relax, I’d never put our little girl in a tough spot.” Asher would scoff softly, but he never disagreed. Back then, I naively thought the three of us would stay like that forever. Until we turned fourteen. 3 Because my mom worked at the Montgomery estate, I was naturally closer to Asher. It was the day of Asher’s birthday. The three of us had planned to skip school and spend the entire day at the amusement park. But halfway there, Asher realized he forgot something and wanted to run back home. So, we stopped by the Montgomery estate first. And walked right into a sickening scene. Clothes strewn across the floor, a man’s guttural groans, a woman’s soft crying… And at that exact moment, Asher’s mother was lying in a hospital bed, gravely ill. Instinctively, I grabbed Asher’s hand, trying to pull him out of the house. He let me pull him, his face utterly devoid of emotion. But the moment we stepped outside, he stopped and mercilessly ripped his hand from my grasp. He looked at me, a mocking smile on his lips. Asher asked, “Sydney. You recognized her voice, didn’t you?” Caleb stood next to us, completely confused. I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out. “Why are you crying?” I hadn’t even realized tears were blurring my vision. Asher reached out and wiped my tears with the same gentle touch he always used, but his words were made of ice. He said, “If anyone should be crying, shouldn’t it be me?” My mother had always treated Asher like her own. Because his mother was constantly sick, my mom was the one who raised him. Asher knew her voice just as well as I did. So he knew. Being fourteen didn’t mean we were entirely ignorant. It was exactly because he understood that the betrayal cut so deep. The intrusion of an outsider, the shattering of his family. Asher hated my mother, but he hated his father even more. And he began to hate me, too. Caleb sensed the shift in the air. He tried to say something to lighten the mood, but Asher cut him off coldly. “Caleb. This has nothing to do with you.” Even though Caleb argued with Asher all the time, Asher was his anchor. He listened to him more than anyone. So Caleb ultimately stayed quiet, looking at me with a complicated expression. I just kept my head down, avoiding his gaze, my body trembling with cold. None of us ever spoke about what happened that day. Mr. Montgomery was still the warm, polite patriarch. My mom continued to gently care for Asher and me. But Asher started to hate me. Every day, the hatred grew. Yet, he learned to wear a mask. Besides me and Caleb, no one else could see his disgust. Caleb became the guy caught in the middle, torn between his two best friends. Until Asher’s mother passed away. Not long after, my mother became the new Mrs. Montgomery. “Your mother worried about you until her final breath.” Mr. Montgomery patted Asher’s shoulder, sounding heartbroken. “I’m too busy with work to care for you properly, and this house needs a woman’s touch. Asher, you have to believe I loved your mother. But I hope you can understand my difficult position, okay?” My mother stood beside him, clutching his arm, whispering words of comfort. Asher said nothing. He just stayed quiet for a moment, then looked up at Mr. Montgomery and my mom with a smile. A perfectly warm smile. “I understand completely.” Mr. Montgomery looked relieved. My mom, barely able to hide her excitement, told Asher she would treat him like her own flesh and blood. I stood in the distance, watching the absurd theatrical display, feeling physically sick. But Asher acted like everything was perfectly fine. Even though I knew betrayal was the thing he despised most in the world. In that moment, Asher looked like a total stranger. I felt like I had never known him. Yet, I had no right to call him out. He must have noticed me staring. Asher turned his head. The calm smile was still glued to his face. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Wordlessly, he mouthed something to me: Disgusting. 4 Disgusting. Caleb didn’t hold back. The air around me felt so thin I couldn’t breathe. Through my desperate struggling, I faintly heard Asher sigh. Followed by a mocking chuckle. Because of that chuckle, Caleb loosened his grip slightly. I gasped greedily for air, my eyes burning red. Pushing myself up with everything I had, my voice came out a ragged croak: “I didn’t do it.” I knew exactly what they were talking about. Ever since my mom married his dad, I had been permanently exiled from our three-person world. Caleb and Asher grew even closer. Two halves of the same whole. They even fell for the exact same girl. Serena Blair. The wealthy, beautiful heiress of the Blair family. A few days ago, rumor had it Serena was cornered in an alley by a gang of local thugs. When she was rescued, her face was bruised and swollen. Soon after, whispers started circling that I was the one who lured her out. That it was my fault she was ambushed. At first, I didn’t care. But I never expected Caleb and Asher to actually believe it. And I certainly never expected them to “avenge” her like this. I used to think that no matter how much they hated me now, they would at least believe my character when it came to things like this. But Caleb just scoffed. He stood up suddenly, staring down at me like I was garbage. “You’re exactly the same. You haven’t changed a bit.” His tone was lazy. “I really don’t want to dirty my hands with you.” “Use your feet, then.” Asher walked over. He was a germaphobe. He glanced in disgust at the spilled boba on the floor and stopped a few feet away. “You can just throw the shoes away later.” An inexplicable panic seized my chest. I looked at Asher in disbelief. I knew he hated me because of what my mother did. But just a few days ago, this same boy was gently bandaging a scrape on my arm, his demeanor impossibly soft. I naively thought he was softening up. I thought it was the prelude to us fixing things. “Asher, I didn’t do it.” Fighting through the pain, my voice shook. More than Caleb’s fists, I cared about Asher’s judgment. Asher said nothing. He just took a step closer, crouched down, and murmured cryptically, “Your clothes are all ruined.” He reached out and slowly, methodically lifted the hem of my shirt. His freezing fingertips brushed against my stomach, sending violent shudders down my spine. Asher chuckled softly. “I’ve always wanted to say this, Sydney… your waist is so narrow.” The dread pooling in my chest grew thick. I instinctively tried to crawl backward, but Asher pinned me down. “Why are you so disobedient?” The gentle smile never left his face, but without a second of hesitation, he pressed the glowing cherry of his lit cigarette directly into the soft skin of my stomach. His smile turned sadistic. “Even if you didn’t do it, you still made Serena upset.” “I heard you have that art scholarship competition next week?” Caleb stepped forward. He grinned down at me, then slowly, deliberately stepped his heavy sneaker onto my right hand—my drawing hand. And dug his heel in, crushing bone against hardwood. He spoke casually: “Withdraw.” I suddenly remembered: Serena was also competing in that art contest. But for me, winning that scholarship was the only way I could change my fate. So, even as I trembled in blinding agony, I gritted my teeth and refused: “No.” I couldn’t drop out. It was my only way out. I absolutely couldn’t— “We aren’t asking for your opinion.” Asher’s voice was light and airy, sounding just like the times he used to comfort me. And Caleb was even more direct: “Drop out, or I’ll cripple your hand right now.” His expression was colder than I had ever seen it. “Sydney, this is what you owe Serena.” 5 I never owed Serena anything. But no one believed me. Serena moved into the mansion next to the Montgomery estate during the spring semester of our sophomore year. She was like the female lead of a movie—the moment she appeared, she effortlessly commanded Caleb and Asher’s entire attention. Everyone loved her. So, whenever Serena showed even the slightest hint of annoyance toward me, everyone assumed I was the one in the wrong. Even when I had done absolutely nothing. But for some reason, whenever I was near Serena, my emotions would completely spiral out of my control. Until one night, I had a dream. In the dream, I realized the world I lived in was just a novel. Serena was the destined female lead, and I was just a minor, pathetic cannon fodder villain. But Caleb and Asher weren’t the male leads either. In the future, they would turn on each other in a brutal war over Serena, ending with one dead and the other crippled. The dream felt terrifyingly real, and several events that happened soon after proved it wasn’t just a nightmare. So, I arrogantly assumed I was holding the script for a redemption arc. I thought I could save them. I wanted to alter Caleb and Asher’s tragic fates. They were the only light I had in my life, even if that light had faded into darkness. I wanted to try. But my desperate attempts only pushed them further and further away. 6 Caleb didn’t hold back on his stomp. The doctor told me I needed to rest my hand for a long time. Intensive drawing was completely out of the question. But the competition was next week. I sat in the cold hospital corridor all night. When I dragged my exhausted, numb body back to my dorm the next day, I ran into Serena downstairs. Her eyes darted to my bandaged hand. She smiled faintly. “I heard you haven’t found a live model for your entry yet? Need my help?” I stared at her blankly. I actually had found a model a long time ago. It was Asher. When he agreed to sit for me, I had deluded myself into thinking we were finally repairing our bond. I was so happy. But Serena needed Asher for something, so Asher went to her instead. I had gone to Caleb for help, only to be ruthlessly mocked. “I’d advise you not to waste your time.” His arrogant, careless voice still echoed in my ears. “No matter how hard you try, Serena’s taking first place anyway.” —It was as if no matter what I did, Caleb and Asher would blindly, recklessly abandon everything to run to her. For a split second, I wanted to just give up. But Serena wasn’t done with me. She let out an “Ah,” and pulled a very familiar notebook from her designer bag. “This is your diary, isn’t it? The handwriting looks like yours.” Seeing the worn cover, my pupils shrank. Without thinking, I lunged forward to snatch it back. “Give it back!” Serena dodged, pretending to lose her balance, and fell to the ground. I reached for the diary again, but a furious roar exploded behind me. “Sydney!” —It was Caleb. 7 Caleb stormed over and shoved me hard. He carefully helped Serena up, treating her like fragile glass. I instinctively looked away, and unsurprisingly, I saw Asher standing a few feet away. He didn’t even look at me. He walked straight toward Serena. “What are you holding?” His voice was perfectly level. “I found Sydney’s diary in the classroom.” Serena offered Asher a shy, apologetic smile. “I originally wanted to bring it back to her personally, but I didn’t expect her to react so aggressively.” She spoke while stepping toward me. “If I caused a misunderstanding, then I apologize.” “What are you apologizing for?” Caleb snatched the diary from Serena’s hands. I suddenly realized what he was about to do. I tried to rush forward, but Asher blocked my path. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable but his words razor-sharp: “What are you so afraid of?” Only then did I realize I was shaking. Shaking uncontrollably. Caleb flipped through the pages, sneering. “It’s just a diary, why are you overreacting—” He stopped mid-sentence. His body froze. His expression warped into something deeply complicated. The silence stretched until Serena covered her mouth, letting out a small “Ah,” and joked lightly: “Oh my… this looks like a stalker’s diary.” There was nothing illicit or creepy in that notebook. A while ago, my memory had started failing me. It wasn’t sudden. It was like air—invisible, slowly eroding my past. By the time I noticed, I had already forgotten so many details about my life with Caleb and Asher. Like ink on a page being methodically erased. The loss of control terrified me. So I started journaling, desperately writing down every little detail of our childhood before we turned fourteen. I never expected Serena to find it. And I certainly never expected her to expose it to them like this. I avoided Caleb and Asher’s eyes. The sheer humiliation and despair made me shake even harder. My voice broke, sounding pathetic and weak: “…Give it back.” “A stalker diary?” No one paid attention to me. Asher took the notebook from Caleb. His eyes scanned the pages rapidly before he nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “It really does look like one.” The mockery in his tone was completely undisguised. “Give it back.” The burn on my stomach throbbed. The shattered bones in my right hand pulsed so hard my vision blurred. I could only repeat those words like a broken record. “Why should we give it back? This concerns us too.” Asher smiled at me. He still looked as gentle as ever. He tilted his head toward Caleb. “Right, Caleb?” Caleb avoided my gaze. He suddenly started laughing. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting.” He nodded, his smile fading into a deadpan glare. “It makes me extremely uncomfortable.” I dug my nails into my palms, finally forcing down the tidal wave of suffocating emotion. “Give it back,” I said, trying to make my voice sound less pathetic. “This has nothing to do with you.” “How could it have nothing to do with us?” The worn, repeatedly read diary looked impossibly fragile in Asher’s hands. He pulled out a silver lighter. His voice was whisper-soft: “Things that make people uncomfortable shouldn’t exist.” Before I could stop him, the flames licked the edges of the pages. I could only watch as the fire consumed my memories, before Asher casually tossed the burning book onto the concrete. Asher seemed curious to see how I would react. But a strange, heavy calmness suddenly washed over me. Much calmer than I thought I’d be. I stood there silently, watching the diary burn to ash, and then scatter in the wind. As if it had never existed at all. Nobody knew that my memories of the past had faded to almost nothing. Only that diary, the one I reread obsessively, could trigger the fading echoes of my childhood. But now, the last remaining tie between me and my past was severed. Completely clean. Including my pathetic delusions of saving them. And in that exact moment, I suddenly heard Serena’s voice. She said: “System, why hasn’t Asher’s capture meter gone up? Has he still not completely given up on Sydney?” 8 Serena’s lips hadn’t moved, but the words echoed in my head as if she were whispering right in my ear. Asher and Caleb were just staring at me. They clearly couldn’t hear the voice. Serena was still conversing with her so-called System. “Is your algorithm broken? Asher and Caleb literally crippled the female lead’s hand for me. How is the capture not successful yet?” “And why is their lingering emotional attachment to her still so high?” “Fine, fine. I’ll just keep working on it. The female lead’s memories of them are almost totally wiped anyway. I’m so close.” Her tone was utterly indifferent, like a player trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. Whether the puzzle was ruined in the process meant nothing to her. She just needed to complete her objective. I bit my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, but my mind had never been clearer. Serena was a “Player.” And her capture targets were Asher. And probably Caleb. She called me the “female lead.” That meant those prophetic dreams I had—the ones that made me foolishly try to “redeem” Caleb and Asher—were likely a byproduct of Serena’s presence. Including my current amnesia. I thought I would be furious. But in reality, I just listened to her conversation with the System with absolute, chilling clarity. When Caleb impatiently barked, “Sydney, what kind of crazy act are you pulling now?”, I suddenly looked up. I smiled at Caleb. My tone was lighter than it had been in years. I told them: “I’m sick.” It had been a very long time since I said those words. Caleb froze. Serena, who had been chatting with her System, also stiffened. She rushed to speak first: “If you’re sick, you should go to the hospital. What’s the point of saying it here—” Realizing she sounded too aggressive and broke her gentle facade, she quickly forced an awkward smile and corrected herself: “Are you not feeling well? Do you want me to go to the hospital with you?” I ignored her. I just quietly looked at Caleb and Asher. Refusing to miss a single micro-expression on their faces. Looking at them this closely, I noticed the cracks. Asher maintained his icy facade, but his hands, resting at his sides, instinctively curled into tight fists. Caleb’s emotional control was far worse. He subconsciously took two steps toward me, forced himself to stop, and then deployed his usual mockery: “If you’re sick, go to a doctor. Stop acting like you’re dying in front of us. What’s the point?” “Sydney, don’t tell me you think faking an illness is still going to work on us?” A long time ago, whenever I wanted to skip school or needed a favor from them, pretending to be sick was my go-to strategy. My acting was actually terrible. But back then, they would pretend to believe me, indulging my every whim. “What if it still works?” I didn’t make a hurt, wounded expression like I used to. Instead, I shrugged, flashing them the brightest smile I could muster. My voice was light: “But I’m guessing you don’t believe me anyway.” Asher frowned deeply, sensing something fundamentally wrong. “That diary—” He seemed to realize something, abruptly stopping mid-sentence and staring at the ground by his feet. But the concrete was completely clean. The wind hadn’t even left a smudge of ash. I kept smiling. My voice was incredibly soft: “It’s okay. I’ll forget about you guys soon anyway.”

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  • My Parents Gave My Brother Four Houses and Left Me with “Love”—So I Left My Fortune to My Cat

    My mother gave all four of our family’s houses to my younger brother, and gave her “love” to me. So, after I started working, I gifted her a $5 necklace, but spent $2,500 on my cat. She called me a heartless, ungrateful daughter. I pointed at the four property deeds and smiled innocently: “Mom, my money might have gone to the cat, but I gave you all my love!” 1 When we were little, if my parents bought a cake, my brother and I each got a slice. If they bought toys, we each got one. They never seemed to play favorites. I always felt incredibly lucky to grow up in a fair household where my parents treated my brother and me equally. But then, my parents bought a new investment property and put it entirely in my brother Mason’s name. He was only in middle school at the time. My mom sat me down and explained: “Harper, society is different for boys. A girl doesn’t necessarily need a house to her name, but a boy needs property to be seen as a good provider and find a wife. “Money is a little tight right now, but if we ever have enough to buy another house, we’ll get one for you too.” I was depressed for days, but eventually, I convinced myself to accept it. It wasn’t that they didn’t love me; they just didn’t have the money. When I went to college, my mom cried to me about how tight their finances were. So, I worked multiple part-time jobs, hustled for academic scholarships, and paid for my own tuition and living expenses to ease their burden. Yet, during those exact same four years, they bought a second and a third investment property—both entirely in Mason’s name. My mom’s excuse evolved: “Society expects so much from men nowadays. The pressure is huge. Having a few extra properties gives him a safety net. As a girl, your life will be much easier.” That was when a phrase I constantly saw online finally clicked in my head: The Golden Child. Before this, I had never associated that term with my own family. I threw her past promises back in her face, trying to prove her hypocrisy: “You explicitly promised that when we had the money, you’d buy one for me. Now Mason has three properties. If you favor him, just admit it!” My mom exploded. “When have we ever mistreated you?! Growing up, did you ever have less food or clothes than your brother? You’re a girl—you always wanted dresses and hair clips! We spent more money on you than him on a daily basis! “If we really favored him, would we have paid for you to finish college? Do you know how many girls out there don’t even get to go to a university? What other parents balance the scales as well as we do?!” Mason immediately chimed in to fan the flames: “Harper, stop upsetting Mom. It’s their money; they can give it to whoever they want. You should know how to be grateful. They raised us, and instead of being a good daughter, you’re already scheming for their assets.” With the two of them tag-teaming me from the moral high ground, I was so suffocated I didn’t know how to respond. We had a massive argument that ended in a stalemate. I looked down at the pure 14k gold necklace in my purse. I had bought it with my very first paycheck after graduation. I had watched my mom stare at it longingly at the jewelry counter months ago, unable to bring herself to buy it. I had planned to surprise her with it today. Now, looking at the situation, there was no need. I stormed out of the house, drove straight back to the mall, and returned the necklace for a full refund. With the $2,500 cash in hand, I walked into a reputable breeder’s shop and bought a purebred Ragdoll kitten. 2 I bought my new kitten premium food, the best litter, and top-tier accessories. When I wasn’t at work, my entire routine revolved around cooking for him and playing with him. I took him to the vet for regular grooming and health checkups. My mom watched me and shook her head in disgust. “You brought a little god into the house to worship. Do you know how much money you’re wasting?!” I held my fluffy, gorgeous baby, raised an eyebrow, and said proudly: “This is my son. Of course I’m going to spoil him.” One day, my mom went out and told me to make lunch for my brother. I told her I was busy. When she came home, Mason was eating microwaved ramen. I, on the other hand, was meticulously preparing gourmet salmon meatballs for my cat. “You call this being busy?!” she shrieked. I kept my head down, carefully dicing the fish. “Everyone loves their own son. If I took care of your son, what if my son went hungry?” She glared at me, her face turning purple, completely speechless. She seemed to forget that Mason is only exactly one year younger than me. He’s a full-grown adult. Why couldn’t he cook his own food? According to my mom, “boys are clumsy” and don’t know how to do chores, so I had to serve him. Based on what logic? 3 For my mom’s birthday, Mason ordered a pair of $15 free-shipping sneakers off a discount website for her. She was overjoyed, boasting about how her son had finally grown up and knew how to take care of his mother. However, when she tried them on, they were a full two sizes too big. She laughed awkwardly. “Boys are just careless, it’s normal that he doesn’t get the sizing right. That’s why they say daughters are a mother’s true comfort.” As she spoke, she glanced at me, gesturing toward my gift. I smiled sweetly and pulled a fake designer necklace out of a beautifully wrapped box. It looked identical to the luxury brand she loved. Except the material was cheap stainless steel. Her face darkened immediately. “You’re giving me this?” I put on a mask of pure sincerity. “Yeah! I got it off an Amazon drop-shipper. It cost me exactly $5, which means it’s worth roughly the same as Mason’s shoes! “Mom, I’ve been thinking about what you said. You said when we were kids, you treated us exactly equally with snacks and toys. So now, the gifts I give you should be exactly equal to what Mason gives you. “Plus, daughters really are more thoughtful. The chain length is adjustable, so there are no sizing issues!” I was grinning from ear to ear, sounding perfectly obedient and innocent. She turned green with rage but couldn’t openly lash out without looking like a hypocrite. “You have a full-time corporate job! How can you compare yourself to your brother? He’s still a student!” She suppressed her fury. “Tell me the truth, how much are you making right now?” I answered honestly: “About $6,000 a month. But I spend almost all of it on my cat. “Mom, I finally understand how hard you had it. Raising a son is so expensive. Last week he wasn’t feeling well, so I took him to the vet for a CT scan and some meds. Over two thousand dollars, gone in the blink of an eye.” I patted my cat’s fluffy tail, playing the part of a sweet, exhausted new mother complaining about her expensive child. “WHAT?!” She jumped off the sofa, her eyes practically bleeding. “Our family is struggling financially, and you’re throwing thousands of dollars away on an animal?! Do you have any idea that your father and I still have a massive mortgage to pay off?!” I was genuinely confused. “Weren’t all three of Mason’s properties bought in cash? Why do you have a massive mortgage?” The moment the words left my mouth, it clicked. They had bought a fourth house. Realizing she had slipped up, she clamped her mouth shut, looking guilty. After a tense silence, she sat back down and tried to spin it: “We were originally planning to put this house in your name. But we thought about it… what if you get married and move away? The house would go to your husband’s family. “So we figured, since you have a great salary now, you could help us pay off the mortgage on this house first. Then, when you’re ready to get married, we’ll buy a new one just for you.” Wow. What a massive, beautifully painted pie. They wanted me to pay off a multi-million-dollar mortgage for a house in my brother’s name, while promising me some imaginary house in the distant future. If that was the case, why wouldn’t I just save my own money and buy my own house? Young people have it rough these days. Bosses manipulate you at work, the media manipulates you online, and when you go home, your own parents try to scam you. Unfortunately for her, trust can only be overdrafted so many times. “So whose name is on the deed for this new house?” I sneered, glancing at Mason, who was glued to his video game. “Let me guess. Your son’s?” She exploded again. “Why do you keep saying ‘my son’?! He’s your own flesh and blood brother! We had him so you wouldn’t be alone in this world, so you’d have family to rely on! When we get old, he’ll be your only blood relative left! If he does well, you’ll have backing when you get married! You are siblings, you should support each other! Why are you drawing lines between yours and his? “If you help pay the mortgage, we’ll even leave a guest room for you when we renovate! I know Mason wouldn’t kick you out if you ever wanted to visit!” I held my cat and lazily stifled a yawn. “So I should spend my entire salary for the next five years just to ‘reserve a guest room’ I might sleep in two days a year? I could stay at a five-star Ritz-Carlton for a fraction of that price. Your house is too expensive for me.” Before she could speak, I continued with a bright smile: “Mom, I actually think what you said before makes perfect sense. I’m a girl, I don’t need to worry about owning property. So I’ll just use my salary to raise my own son.” “Son, son! Are you seriously calling that animal your son?! Giving your own mother a fake necklace for her birthday but spending thousands on a beast every month—do you have any conscience left?!” She had completely lost it, her voice shrill and piercing. Right. I couldn’t bear to spend thousands on a necklace for her, but I gladly spent it on my cat. When things are unfair, the resentment builds. You’re finally tasting what blatant favoritism feels like. I didn’t get angry. I just looked at her innocently. “You love your son, so you gave him four houses. I love my son, so I spend my paycheck on him. Where’s the issue? “Mom, don’t be mad. My money might have gone to the cat, but I gave you all my love!” She roared at the top of her lungs: “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!” At midnight, I was officially kicked out. 4 I turned right around, checked into the Ritz-Carlton, and spent $500 on a room. The receptionist was incredibly sweet and accommodating, helping me settle my cat in and even sending up a complimentary late-night snack. I took a luxurious bubble bath, eating fresh fruit and sipping champagne. Money really is best spent where it’s appreciated. The next day was a Saturday. I drove around the neighborhood near my office and signed a lease for a beautiful, fully-furnished one-bedroom apartment with a large balcony. Rent was only $1,500 a month. The landlord was thrilled to have me, practically treating me like royalty and even hiring a cleaning service before I moved in. If I had stayed at home and given that $1,500 to my mom for the mortgage, she would have only complained that it wasn’t enough. It’s true what they say. In some places, money buys you great service and emotional peace. In other places, pouring your entire bank account out only buys you endless demands and misery. From that day on, I lived in my own peaceful little two-person world with my cat. Money, peace, and freedom—it was glorious. Half a month later, I got a call. My mom was in the hospital. She had worn the oversized discount shoes Mason bought her to her Zumba class, tripped, and fractured her ankle. She needed surgery and pins, requiring at least two weeks of full-time care. Dad was out of state dealing with a failing business venture and couldn’t come back. Mom was too cheap to hire a private nurse, so she wanted me to go take care of her. But I was currently managing a massive project at work, doing overtime every day. There was absolutely no way I could take fifteen days off. Meanwhile, Mason was on summer break, playing Call of Duty day and night with absolutely nothing to do. When I pointed this out, my mom scoffed: “Mason already made plans to go on a road trip with his frat brothers, he doesn’t have time. Besides, boys don’t know how to take care of people! Daughters are naturally more attentive and caring.” I actually laughed out loud. “Is anyone born knowing how to take care of people? I haven’t even passed my probationary period at work yet. If I ask for 15 days off, my career is over.” Her voice went shrill. “What kind of excuse is that?! Your own mother is in the hospital and you can’t make time? Are you saying your job is more important than me? You work so hard but I haven’t seen a single dime of your money! Why can’t you ever understand your parents’ struggles?!” After venting her rage, she seemed to remember she needed a favor, so her tone softened slightly. “Just talk to your boss. If you have a good relationship with them, they’ll understand a family emergency. Don’t you know how to navigate office politics?” Right. I shouldn’t try to use logic with her. I let out a shaky, miserable sigh, forcing a tone of absolute guilt: “Mom, it’s not that I don’t want to come take care of you. I wish I could fly to your bedside right now! But your precious grandson is sick too. He has feline infectious peritonitis. I can’t leave him! As a fellow mother, the love I have for my son is the exact same as the love you have for Mason. I know you, of all people, will understand.” Before she could explode, I hung up the phone. In the few seconds after the screen went black, I felt the blood in my veins run cold. So this is what it feels like to be completely detached. A moment ago, I had a million logical reasons I wanted to argue, but by the time I opened my mouth, I realized there was no point. I had been at my job for two months. Asking for a half-month leave during a critical project meant my boss would gladly grant me a permanent vacation. She knew my exact situation, but she hadn’t considered my survival for even a second. Explaining myself was useless. It wasn’t that she didn’t know; she just purposefully chose to ignore it. 5 That night, Mason finally found the time to call me, stepping away from whatever loud party he was at. “Harper, you actually left Mom in the hospital all alone? You didn’t even go visit her?! Do you have any conscience at all? You can always find another job, but you only have one mother!” Over the phone, beneath his roaring, I could hear the thumping bass, his friends howling lyrics, and the clinking of glasses. He was having a blast. I had just gotten off work and was grocery shopping. I answered the phone, treating it like a zoo exhibit: “Oh, so I assume you’re doing the 24/7 hospital watch? Wow, you’ve been working so hard, Young Master Mason.” He didn’t feel a shred of guilt. “I’m out of town, I can’t. Besides, isn’t it your responsibility to take care of Mom? Are you really abandoning your parents just because of some houses? How were you raised? Did Mom and Dad not feed you? “Even if you’re busy, couldn’t you hire a nurse for her? You make so much money but you’re too cheap to spend it on your own mother? Children shouldn’t just leech off their parents, they should contribute! Mom and Dad have millions in mortgages and work so hard, while you’re out living your best life. How can you be so selfish?!” He spewed an endless stream of self-righteous garbage. This familiar, preachy rhetoric… when did my little brother sign up for a crash course in patriarchal gaslighting? He sounded like a boomer lecturing a housewife. Since he wanted to play that game, I cleared my throat to lay out the facts. “As far as I know, your first three properties are all rented out. That’s over $10,000 in rental income every month. And none of that money is going toward the mortgage—it’s sitting in your personal bank account for your future wedding. Since you’re so considerate of our parents’ struggles, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sparing a few bucks for a nurse, right?” You see, they had the rental income to pay off the mortgage, but to protect their precious son’s savings, my parents voluntarily took the debt entirely upon themselves. Parents demand daughters understand their suffering. But some suffering is entirely self-inflicted. Misery flows toward those who enjoy consuming it. If they love eating misery so much, they can have a feast. I wasn’t having a bite. While I was talking, I pushed my cart into the bakery section. The sample lady handed me a piece of pistachio cake. I took a bite. Sweet and delicious. Mason choked on his words, getting even angrier. “You always have to compare yourself to me! I’m the son. Mom and Dad’s retirement is going to rely entirely on me. Of course we’re different. Once you get married, you’ll belong to another family. Why would they give their assets to you? That would just be handing money to outsiders! “We never expected you to do much anyway. In the future, just send them a few thousand a month in allowance and come back to nurse them when they get sick. The actual responsibility of providing for their old age is my job!” He sounded so noble and rational. I actually almost laughed. The sheer, weaponized stupidity of that statement. I was so glad I didn’t have him on speakerphone, otherwise the normal people in the grocery store would realize I was on the phone with a brain-dead moron. It would be too embarrassing. “Hey, are you listening to me? Harper…” I held the phone as far away from my ear as possible, like it was a biohazard. “The wind is too loud! I can’t hear what kind of dog is barking at me!” 6 At 8:00 PM, my mom posted a photo of her in a hospital gown on Facebook with the caption: “Hospitalized alone. Watching the patient next to me surrounded by her loving daughter and family. Must be nice.” Within half an hour, she had a dozen comments asking what happened. Sure enough, I was instantly bombarded by calls from relatives. My aunt charged the front lines, self-righteously seeking justice for her sister: “Harper, throwing a tantrum is one thing, but there’s no such thing as a bad parent. How can you just abandon your mother? Regardless of what your brother does, you need to fulfill your duties as a daughter! “Parents have it hard. You’ll understand when you’re my age. Even if it’s just for half a month, or even a few years, it’s your duty to care for them. Don’t tell me your job is too tiring. You work in an office staring at a computer, how exhausting can it be? You young people have it too easy, you just can’t handle a little hardship.” I nodded vigorously to the empty room, fake-sobbing in absolute agony. “Auntie, you have no idea! My heart is breaking for my mom, but I caught a severe virus, my fever is through the roof, and I literally can’t get out of bed! Mason won’t even let me come home, he said I’m ‘spilled water’ now that I’m an adult! Waaaah~ “Auntie, you’re so right. That’s my mom, your only sister! We absolutely cannot abandon her. So you’ll go take care of her for the next two weeks, right? Cough, cough… I’d offer to pay you, but I know you’d never accept money, because you understand our family’s financial struggles better than anyone… Hello? Hello? Auntie, why did you hang up?” Sigh. These people really can’t handle a taste of their own medicine. I tossed my phone aside, thoroughly entertained, and laid down to play with my cat. Dealing with nosy relatives is simple: match their unhinged energy and flip the script. It’s so easy for them to command others using empty words. But the second it requires their own time or money, they run faster than Olympic sprinters. 7 A month later, my probationary period at work ended. I was officially hired full-time. My salary was bumped by 20%, and I got a generous PTO package. During that entire month, I didn’t go home, and I didn’t visit the hospital. According to Facebook, my mom was discharged weeks ago and was living perfectly fine. My life wasn’t affected in the slightest—if you ignore the fact that she was crying to the neighbors and relatives about what an unfilial monster I was. I guess my reputation as a cold-blooded, ruthless daughter was firmly established. But honestly? These people couldn’t get me a promotion, and they couldn’t bring me any valuable networking resources. Why should I kidnap my own sanity just for their validation? The most important thing in life is to be happy. I opened the curtains of my apartment. The sprawling city skyline and the rising moon filled my view. I seared a steak, popped open a bottle of champagne, and celebrated my promotion on my balcony. The ambient lights flickered. My cat squinted contentedly beside me, purring like a gentle engine. I raised my glass. A toast to myself, standing on my own. Life was good. … The peaceful days rolled on. Half a year later, my dad called me and asked me to come home for the holidays. “It’s almost Thanksgiving. Who doesn’t go home for the holidays? Your mom was just angry back then. Come home.” My mom chimed in from the background: “Harper, a mother and daughter can’t hold a grudge forever! No matter how mad you are, you have to come home for Thanksgiving dinner.” You don’t slap a smiling face. Since they were extending an olive branch, I naturally played along. “Mom, Dad, I missed you guys so much! I’ll bring your furry grandson over to see you right now!” At the dinner table, no one brought up the fact that they kicked me out, and no one mentioned my mysterious disappearance during my mom’s hospitalization. My dad kept putting food on my plate. “Here, eat more lobster. It’s your brother’s favorite. If you don’t eat it now, he’ll devour the whole thing.” Except, I’m allergic to lobster. In fact, looking at the massive feast on the table, not a single dish was something I actually liked. I was incredibly annoyed, but I maintained an elegant smile. “I knew Dad loved me the most.” He was very satisfied with this picture of family harmony. With a little wine in his system, he started making grand speeches. “Don’t worry, Harper. In a few years, when my business takes off, I’ll buy you a luxury penthouse downtown. It’ll be worth more than all four of your brother’s houses combined! “A family needs to stick together. We need to twist ourselves into a single rope. That’s how a family prospers.” I nodded enthusiastically, looking deeply moved. “Yes, yes! Thank you, Dad! And don’t you worry, in a few years when your daughter makes partner at the firm and becomes a millionaire, I’ll buy you a private yacht and take you to Hawaii!” You want to blow hot air? I can blow hot air too. When it comes to painting imaginary pies, the student has surpassed the master. “Why wait for the future? You should be honoring your parents right now! You’ve been working for half a year, how much money have you saved?” Just as my dad and I were riding high on our delusions, my mom had to ruin the mood. “Ugh, how could my meager corporate salary ever compare to my brother’s passive rental income? Right, Mr. Landlord? What are you getting Mom and Dad for the holidays?” I blinked innocently at Mason. My mom looked awkward, probably gearing up for another “boys are just careless” speech. My dad frowned. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s the holidays. We’re the elders, we should be giving gifts to the kids.” And so, on this grand Thanksgiving night, I received a crisp $100 bill from my dad. Hey, considering I spent $80 on a nice bottle of wine to bring over, I was definitely taking it! 8 During the winter holidays, Mason brought his girlfriend home. The family called me back for a get-together. My mom told me to buy her future daughter-in-law a piece of fine jewelry or a jar of La Mer skincare as a welcome gift. I threw my hands up. “I’m broke.” So, my mom marched her into my old bedroom. “Whatever. Your sister has more than one designer bag. Just pick one you like.” Since I moved out early, the bags left in my room were mostly mid-tier ones I bought right after college—Coach, Michael Kors—nothing crazy expensive. The girl’s eyes darted around the room, eventually landing on me. Specifically, on the Louis Vuitton bag I was currently wearing. Mason immediately jumped out to back up his girlfriend. “It’s just a bag, right? If Chloe likes it, give it to her. You came over for dinner empty-handed and we didn’t say anything.” Miss Chloe timidly tugged at his sleeve, her eyes slightly red. “It’s okay, Mason. Maybe your sister just doesn’t see me as family yet. I don’t want to cause trouble.” Uh… What kind of radioactive trash did Mason drag home? Truly, birds of a feather flock together. I smiled brightly, my eyes curving into crescents. “Sorry, honey! Some people have shame, some people don’t. Begging for a Louis Vuitton on your first visit? I don’t think your brand loyalty aligns with your personal values.” With that, I turned on my heel and walked out. Almost getting robbed of a two-thousand-dollar bag just to eat a dry turkey dinner? I couldn’t afford that. … That night, I was scrolling through Reddit when I stumbled upon a post in a relationship advice sub. [Title: First time visiting my boyfriend’s family, and his older sister didn’t give me a gift. What should I do?] The post detailed how rude and ill-mannered this “older sister” was, even mentioning she was so horrible her parents had kicked her out of the house. The avatar of the user matched the WhatsApp profile picture of the girl who had added me earlier that day: Chloe. This girl had clearly forgotten to turn off the “Sync Contacts” feature, so the app recommended her post to me. Finding it highly entertaining, I scrolled through her post history. The post right before this one read: [Title: My boyfriend has three fully paid-off investment properties and one house with a mortgage. If we marry, will I get a share of them?] The top comments bluntly told her: [The mortgaged house means he just wants you to help him pay off his debt. The fully paid-off houses are pre-marital assets—you have zero legal claim to them. If he really loves you, make him legally transfer two of the houses into your name, or force him to sell them and buy a new one together after you’re married.] I was speechless. This girl’s ambition extended far beyond a simple Louis Vuitton bag. Scrolling even further back, I found: [Title: Should I marry an only child or a guy with an older sister? The only child makes $150k but only owns one house. The guy with a sister only makes $40k, but he has four houses in his name, and his sister makes a massive corporate salary. She’ll definitely subsidize our lifestyle in the future. Which one should I pick?] I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had literally factored my salary into her future net worth. You have to admire the audacity.

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  • Glitch in the Bloodline: Deleting the Golden Child

    In my last life, when the billionaire’s biological daughter was brought home from the orphanage, she insisted on taking me with her. Her excuse? “She’s pretty. I want her as a pet.” Everyone believed her. But after she orchestrated my death, I realized the truth. She had stolen my “Starlet System” and signed a demonic pact. The rule was simple: she and I were bound. Whoever was kicked out of the family would be “deleted” by the system. The survivor would inherit double the beauty of the deceased. The true heiress didn’t hesitate to bind me. And she succeeded. After I died, her beauty reached impossible levels. She used that face to conquer Hollywood, becoming an A-list sensation overnight. She was hailed as the “Industry’s Ultimate Muse.” Whenever people praised her face, she’d smile with fake modesty. “I just grew into it. I have my parents’ genes to thank.” No one knew the truth. Except me, and I was dead. I thought I would vanish into nothingness, unable to claim my revenge. But I woke up. I returned to the very day the Millers came to the orphanage to find their long-lost daughter. The moment I opened my eyes, I knew Avery had already stolen the system and bound me again. Without a second thought, I dove into the orphanage’s toy bin and dug out a tattered, filth-covered teddy bear. In my previous life, I heard that when Avery went missing as a child, she was clutching this bear. As the years passed, Avery had forgotten all about it. … The reunion was just finishing. Avery was about to open her mouth to “charitably” bring me along. I “accidentally” let the teddy bear fall out of my bag. The Millers’ expressions shifted instantly. The billionaire father, Arthur: “That bear…” Avery glanced at it, disgusted. “Just some trashy toy from the bin. Chloe, aren’t you worried about germs?” I looked at her, trembling like a frightened bird. “I just… it feels familiar to me…” Half an hour later, Avery barely got the words out to suggest bringing me along before the Millers practically tripped over themselves to agree. As we climbed into the luxury SUV, I studied Avery’s face. I wondered… after she’s deleted, how much will my stats actually go up? 1 As soon as we reached the Miller estate, Avery made her first move. “Dad, Mom, Chloe isn’t your biological daughter, but we grew up together in the home. We’re like sisters.” “I want her to stay in the room right next to mine. Is that okay?” Avery hugged my arm, smiling with artificial sweetness. In my last life, I was so moved I cried on the spot. Later, I realized… putting me next to her was the only way she could monitor me, frame me, and complete her system tasks. Most people wouldn’t believe a fifteen-year-old could be so calculating. Sure enough, Arthur and Evelyn were deeply touched. They pulled her into a hug. “Our sweet, sensible girl.” “Chloe, you come here too. From now on… we’ll take care of you.” I walked over with faked hesitation, leaning my cheek against Evelyn’s shoulder. I had spent a lifetime studying this woman’s habits. Evelyn Miller loved cats. Usually, she liked it best when her kittens rubbed against her for attention. I was right. Evelyn’s eyes lit up. The look she gave me held a flicker of genuine affection. It was a little pathetic. But I didn’t care. Arthur and Evelyn were soft-hearted fools. In the last life, Avery won them over with ease and whispered poison in their ears every night. I suffered every indignity because of it. Why would I ignore a winning strategy? This time, I was going to make sure Avery was the one erased from existence. 2 However, I faced a major problem. Avery and I would inevitably be taken for a DNA test. A family this rich doesn’t just let strangers in without verification. The only reason they hadn’t done it yet was to “build a bond” first. But once the results came out proving Avery was the biological daughter, my whispers wouldn’t matter. I lay on the expensive, silk sheets, unable to sleep. This was a battlefield of life and death. I had to play my cards perfectly. Recalling the past, I woke up early the next day and tied my hair into two simple braids. I put on a vintage-style floral dress. I looked like the quintessential girl-next-door. The moment Avery saw me, she laughed out loud. “Chloe, we’re in a billionaire’s mansion now.” “Can you leave the ‘orphanage chic’ behind? You look like a peasant.” As she spoke, Arthur and Evelyn came downstairs for breakfast. Avery rushed to Evelyn’s side, continuing her mockery. “Mom, look at Chloe. She looks like a farm girl from the last century.” “We’re going to see Grandma and Grandpa today, right? If she wears that, won’t it be embarrassing?” I looked at them, feigning confusion. Sure enough, Evelyn’s eyes welled with tears. Arthur, standing behind her, froze. “Evelyn… Chloe looks exactly like you did in your debutante photos.” Evelyn choked back a sob, rushing forward to grab my hands. She couldn’t stop nodding. I acted completely overwhelmed, making them look at me with even more heartbreak. Avery, on the other hand, was stunned. “Dad? Mom? What are you talking about?” They didn’t answer. Arthur went to the storage room and pulled out a yellowed photo album. The album I had memorized in my last life. Evelyn: “Look! Chloe’s outfit… it’s a near-perfect match for my old photos!” “We have to let your grandmother see this.” “She’ll be in tears.” Avery’s face went pale. I lowered my head to hide my smirk. The first move was mine. I was integrating into this family faster than she ever could. 3 Avery acted like the undisputed heiress. But Evelyn’s sudden closeness to me made her feel the threat. She started framing me, just like before. No boundaries, no shame. The day after we returned from the grandparents’ house, Evelyn realized her diamond necklace was missing. After searching the house, Evelyn gave up. “Forget it. It wasn’t that expensive.” Avery suddenly transformed into a champion of justice. “How can things just go missing in our own home? No, we have to find it!” “If it’s really gone… that means someone stole it!” I understood exactly what she meant. If I guessed correctly, that necklace was in my room right now. “Forget it,” Evelyn said. “It’s just a necklace. If someone liked it, they can keep it.” Avery’s brow furrowed. “That’s not the point, Mom!” Right. That wasn’t the point. I stood up too. “Mom, you really should look for it.” “Avery and I just joined the family. If that necklace isn’t found, there will always be a cloud of suspicion over both of us.” Evelyn finally agreed. Avery smiled, her eyes darting across my face. She looked at my features as if they were a prize she had already won. To prove her “innocence,” she spoke up first. “Mom, start with my room!” Of course, they found nothing in Avery’s bedroom. Then it was my turn. But I wasn’t worried. Because while they were in her room, I had discreetly swiped a few strands of her hair and some nail clippings I found in her trash can and hid them. 4 As we reached my door, Avery put on a dramatic, pained expression. “Chloe.” “If you just confess, Mom won’t be mad.” “You took it, didn’t you?” I shook my head, my face a mask of terror. “Mom, I didn’t…” Avery cut me off. “Mom, I was afraid to say it because I didn’t want to hurt you.” “But I saw her sneak into your room yesterday.” “I thought she was just going to talk to you. I didn’t think she was going to steal!” Evelyn looked at me, her brow furrowed. I knew it. Her “soft-hearted” weakness was acting up. But that was fine. I needed a reason to put on a show. I didn’t argue. I simply opened my bedroom door. Avery was the first to rush in. After tossing my bed, she went straight for my vanity. “Avery, if it’s not there, let it go,” Evelyn said. Evelyn hadn’t moved a muscle to help, but she also hadn’t stopped Avery. A second later, Avery pulled the necklace out of my vanity drawer. “Mom, look!!!” “I told you! She really stole it!” Evelyn stared at me, shocked. She checked the necklace. “It really is mine.” “Chloe, you…” Evelyn looked heartbroken. “You’ve only been here a few days. How could you do this?” “This necklace isn’t even that valuable. If you wanted one, I would have taken you shopping. Why steal it?” Avery kept stoking the fire, dramatically clutching her chest and taking two steps back. “Chloe, I thought you would leave your orphanage habits behind once you came here.” “I brought you into this family out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how you repay me?” 5 Avery spoke loudly, making sure the housekeepers heard. Arthur walked through the front door at that exact moment. “What’s going on?” Avery embellished the story with extra venom. Arthur’s face darkened instantly. I shook my head, my eyes red. “Dad, Mom, I didn’t take that necklace. I swear.” Before they could respond, Avery sneered. “Caught red-handed, and you’re still making excuses?” From an angle the parents couldn’t see, Avery smirked at me. She looked like she had already won. I let my lips curl up for a fraction of a second. Then, I dropped to my knees. “Dad, Mom, I didn’t take it.” Evelyn turned away, clearly done with me. “Chloe, I’m afraid we can’t keep you here.” Arthur’s voice was cold. Avery couldn’t hide her excitement. But how could I let her win so easily? I wiped my tears and pulled out my phone. I dialed 911. The Millers turned around, their eyes bulging. “Chloe, what are you doing?” I stood there, spine straight. “Dad, Mom, if I stole it, you can let the police take me away.” “There are only a few of us in this house. The fingerprints on that necklace will prove who the thief is.” Avery panicked visibly. “Wh-what fingerprints? You’re talking nonsense!” She tried to snatch the necklace back, but I blocked her. “Chloe! What are you trying to do?! Do you know who our parents are? You want to drag our family name through the mud?” “Calling the cops over a necklace? You’re just trying to embarrass them!” “You ungrateful little brat!” I ignored her and looked at the Millers. A single tear escaped my eye. In that moment, I knew. Evelyn was wavering. 6 I kept my back straight, projecting total transparency. “Dad, Mom, only the police can prove my innocence now.” Arthur frowned. “You’re being too impulsive!” “Avery is right. Any scandal involving our family becomes national news.” Avery nodded frantically, acting like the defender of the family honor. But I knew. The only prints on that necklace belonged to Avery and Evelyn. If the police arrived, Avery’s theft would be a legal fact. She didn’t dare let them come. Soon, the sound of sirens approached. The cruiser pulled into the driveway. Ultimately, Arthur didn’t let the police inside. He dismissed them with a few quick words. “We’ll let this go for now,” Arthur said. “If it happens again, you’re going back to the home.” They might have let it go, but I knew if I accepted that “grace,” I had lost. I discreetly pinched myself, using the sharp pain to force more tears to fall. “No,” I choked out, standing up with stubborn pride. “You don’t believe me, but you won’t let the police clear my name. You just want me gone.” “I’ll leave.” As I turned, I saw Avery’s face light up. But Evelyn was faster. She grabbed my arm. “Chloe, that’s not what we meant!” “Chloe, I believe you. Maybe the maid just misplaced it?” I lowered my gaze. It was time to trigger the plan I had laid days ago. I looked at them through blurry eyes. “Dad, Mom, Avery… have a good life. I’m going.” “You probably won’t believe me, but I’m bound to a mysterious ‘System’.” “If I’m kicked out of this house… I will be permanently deleted.” The moment the words left my mouth, Avery froze. She didn’t expect me to say that. But Arthur and Evelyn had no idea what I was talking about. Arthur: “What are you rambling about? Deleted?” I didn’t explain. I shook my head and walked toward the door. But before I left, just as Evelyn called my name, I collapsed. That’s right. I was gambling. I was betting that my carefully crafted “perfect daughter” persona over the last few days… Had already taken root in Evelyn’s heart. 7 I won the bet. The moment I fell, Arthur and Evelyn rushed forward to catch me. “Chloe! Why did she just faint like that?” Evelyn was frantic. I could hear the tremor in her voice. But as they were shouting for an ambulance, Avery muttered something under her breath in a daze. “So, the System is real? It’s actually real… then I…” Her voice turned into a whisper of pure excitement. I felt the Millers’ movements pause. “What system?” “What Chloe said was true?” “Forget that! Get her to her room!” Once I felt the timing was right, I “slowly” woke up. They were both sitting by my bed. “Thank God, she’s awake.” Evelyn let out a long breath, clutching her chest. “You silly girl, you scared us half to death.” “The thing earlier was just a misunderstanding. Why did you take it so seriously?” Avery was standing behind them, glaring at me with pure venom. She had seen through my act. But so what? The Millers were hooked. I bit my lip and whispered, “Dad… Mom…” 8 Evelyn pulled me into a protective hug. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” I lay against her, feeling absolutely nothing. She only loved me because she thought I was her daughter. In the last life, she was exactly the same way with Avery. Even after I died and vanished, they never looked for me once. They didn’t care about “good” or “bad.” They only cared about who shared their blood. After a few minutes, Arthur spoke up. “Chloe, why did you faint at the door?” I explained the “System” in meticulous detail. They were skeptical. Avery scoffed. “Dad, Mom, you actually believe this?” “A ‘System’? She’s clearly making up stories.” See? The people who frame you are always the ones who know exactly how innocent you are. I shook my head and didn’t defend myself. I whispered: “Dad, Mom… I don’t know why you brought me back.” “But if you brought me here… is it because I might be your biological daughter?” “I heard at the home that there’s something called a DNA test. I want… to do one.” “If I’m not your daughter, I’ll leave immediately.” “Even if… I’m deleted. I accept it.” Arthur and Evelyn looked at each other. In the original timeline, they were supposed to suggest this in a few days. They just didn’t expect me to bring it up first. Avery tilted her chin up, arrogant as ever. She had reason to be. She was the biological one. But today was not like the last life. In the last life, she took my life. In this one, I’m using her own game to turn her into stardust. 9 The DNA test was scheduled. The Millers were considerate enough to let me rest for a day first. That evening, Arthur and Evelyn went out for an event, leaving only Avery and me at home. I purposefully took a bowl of expensive mangosteens and walked past her. “Tch.” She sneered. “Eat up. You’re only picking the expensive stuff because you’re a peasant.” “Enjoy it while you can. Once you’re kicked out, you won’t even be able to afford a burger!” “I’m telling you, you are not their daughter. Get ready to rot!” I didn’t say a word, just squinted my eyes at how delicious the fruit was. Avery couldn’t take it. She kicked the trash can over and barked at me. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” “Go get me some mangosteens and peel an apple for me!!” I didn’t move. Avery stood up, threatening me. “Hurry up! Did you not learn your lesson the last few days?” “I could have them throw you out tonight!” I finished the last mangosteen and checked the time. The Millers were due back any minute. “Okay. I’m going.” I ran to the kitchen, listening for the sound of the front door. As soon as I heard it open, I “accidentally” let the paring knife slip across my thumb. The cut wasn’t huge, but it was deep. Blood started flowing fast. “Blood… blood!” My eyes rolled back, and I dropped the apple and collapsed to the kitchen floor. My head hit the tile with a loud, sickening thud. The housekeeper heard it and rushed in. “Oh my God! Chloe fainted again!!!” I lay perfectly still on the floor. It actually hurt quite a bit. But compared to the pain Avery inflicted on me in the last life? This was nothing. 10 The Millers frantically carried me back to my room. “What happened? She didn’t even leave the house!” “Oh my God, look at all this blood!” Evelyn gently disinfected the cut while questioning the housekeeper. “What is going on?!” “We were only gone for an hour! How is she unconscious again?” Avery was baffled. “Wait, is the System glitched? Is she being deleted early?” “Mom, do I look prettier yet?” Arthur barked at her. “What are you talking about? Is your sister’s looks the priority right now?” “Mrs. Gable, tell me! What happened!” The housekeeper hesitated. “Well… Avery told Chloe to get her some fruit… and then I heard a loud bang. When I went in, Chloe was already down.” Arthur took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with blame. “We have staff for that! Why are you bossing Chloe around?” “If you want fruit, get it yourself—” I “slowly” opened my eyes and weakly grabbed Arthur’s sleeve. “Dad… don’t blame Avery. It was my fault. I’m just… faint at the sight of blood.” Avery’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What?!” “You never fainted at blood in the home! Chloe, stop lying—” “ENOUGH!!” Even the gentle Evelyn had reached her limit. “I don’t care who is biological. You are both our daughters. Sisters should support each other.” She turned to Avery. “Avery, you were the one who insisted on bringing Chloe back. Why are you treating her like an enemy now?” Avery froze, her eyes immediately filling with tears. “Mom!!” Evelyn turned away, her chest heaving with anger. I helped her steady her breathing. “Let’s do the DNA test tomorrow.” “But I’m afraid of blood… I might…” Arthur waved his hand. “That’s fine.” “DNA tests don’t need blood. Hair and nail clippings work just as well.” 11 Evelyn stayed by my bed all night, terrified I’d have another “deletion event.” The next morning, we went straight to the clinic. “Chloe’s afraid of blood, so we’ll just use hair and nails.” Avery shrugged, seemingly unbothered. She looked confident. I found it strange. Had the System told her something? When we got to the lab, I discreetly handed over the hair and nail clippings of Avery I had collected the day before. As for the samples Avery submitted? I had already swapped them out for mine. On the way home from the hospital, Avery was humming a song. “Mom, I’m your real daughter.” “We’ve missed out on so much time. You have to make it up to me from now on.” Avery snuggled into Evelyn’s arms. But if I wasn’t mistaken, Evelyn’s arms were stiff. Her hands hovered in the air, unsure of what to do. Finally, she gave Avery a light pat on the back. “Okay.” I looked out the window at the scenery. Enjoy it while it lasts, Avery. In a few days, when the results come back, you won’t be humming anymore. 12 DNA results usually take seven days. But Avery couldn’t wait. She was becoming more reckless by the hour. “Hey, bring me that new dress Mom bought you. I want to wear it.” She was eating snacks and watching TV, gesturing at me with her chin. I didn’t argue. It was just a dress. “And the money in your allowance card? That belongs to my family. Transfer it all to my account.” “Everything in this house is mine. Don’t think you’re taking a cent with you!” I continued to play the submissive victim. As I was walking down the stairs, she stepped up behind me and gave me a violent shove! I was prepared for it, so I knew how to fall. I let myself tumble, ensuring I didn’t take any serious damage, but I made sure my forehead hit the banister hard enough to swell. This time, even the housekeepers couldn’t stay quiet. By the time Arthur and Evelyn got home, the head maid was already bringing out the first aid kit. “Chloe, let me see that forehead. The swelling is bad.” Arthur and Evelyn exchanged a look. “What happened?” I glanced at Avery, terrified, and didn’t say a word. They sensed the tension and turned to Avery. “Avery? Talk.” She flipped through channels on the TV. “She just fell, Dad. Why are you making a big deal out of it?” “She’s leaving soon anyway.” Avery was right. If the results showed I wasn’t the daughter, I was gone. But for now, the results weren’t in. Arthur, normally a calm man, slammed his hand onto the coffee table. “TELL ME! What happened!” Avery jumped. But relying on her “true heiress” status, she wasn’t truly afraid. “Dad! Why are you screaming?” “I just gave her a little push while she was going downstairs. She’s the one who couldn’t balance. How is that my fault?” Arthur’s face was livid. “You tried to hurt her! Go apologize!” Avery rolled her eyes, her apology sounding forced and insincere. “Yelling at your own daughter for a stray orphan…” “Let’s see if you regret it later!” 13 Because of my “injury,” Arthur kept Avery on a tight leash for the rest of the week. But she didn’t care. She kept telling me that she was “granting me one last week.” When we went to the hospital to pick up the results, she was strutting, holding Arthur and Evelyn’s arms. “Dad, Mom, you’re about to find out who really belongs.” “Chloe, I was going to let you stay as a pet. But since you’re so clumsy and sneaky… don’t regret it when you’re on the street.” She was so drunk on her own arrogance that even Arthur frowned. A man who became a billionaire doesn’t like people who can’t keep their cool. Avery had been acting like a queen regnant all week. “Stop talking. Let’s get the results,” Evelyn said, her hands shaking. “Chloe, come on.” I stood a few feet away from Avery as they went to the desk. Avery crossed her arms, humming. “Chloe, do you know what I want to be once I’m official?” “I’m going to be the most beautiful woman in the world, become a superstar, and have millions of fans.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to go under the knife, so I guess I have to thank you for your face.” She actually thought I couldn’t understand her. Before I could reply, the Millers walked back, their eyes red. “Dad! Mom! I told you—” Before she could finish, I was pulled into their arms. “My sweet daughter.” “We’re so sorry. We took so long to find you.” I was hugged so tightly I could barely breathe. Evelyn was cupping my face, laughing and crying at the same time. “Thank God. Thank God.” Arthur stroked my hair, his eyes full of unspoken relief. We looked like the perfect family. Avery, meanwhile, looked like she was losing her mind. 14 “Dad! Mom! You must be reading it wrong!” She snatched the paper from their hands. After a full minute of silence, her hands went limp, and the paper fluttered to the floor. I picked it up. Probability of Paternity: 99.99% (Chloe Sterling & Arthur Miller) “Impossible. This can’t be happening,” Avery whispered, shaking her head. “The System told me! I’m the daughter!” “The test is wrong! We have to do it again! Right now!” Avery lunged at me, grabbing my wrist so hard she left red marks. Arthur, a grown man, had to use all his strength to pry her off me. “Avery! Calm down!” “We already told you—even if you aren’t the biological daughter, you can stay with us.” Once she calmed down, Avery glared at me with pure hatred. But she was smart. She waited until we were back at the house to confront me in private. “It was you, wasn’t it?” “You rigged the test?” I smiled. “Yeah.” “So what? The results are official. I’m the Miller heiress now.” I purposefully goaded her, tugging at the sleeve of the dress she was wearing. “All those clothes you took from me? You’re going to have to give them all back.” “And from now on, you better be very, very polite to me.” “Otherwise… getting kicked out by your ‘real’ parents would be a very painful way to die, wouldn’t it?” I expected her to snap. But she didn’t. She swallowed her rage. She just left me with a threat: “I’m the protagonist of this System. Get ready to die.” I didn’t sleep that night. Avery’s eyes were too dark for me to feel safe.

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  • The Fake Divorce: How My Husband Married My Best Friend for “The Kids”

    My husband wanted to fake a divorce with me so he could marry my best friend. The excuse? Her son’s residency didn’t fall into the district for the elite public magnet school. My best friend was so anxious about it that she actually made herself sick. “Victoria, just think of it as doing Rachel a favor. Once little Mason’s school situation is secured, we’ll remarry, okay?” Hearing this, Rachel looked terrified, mumbling that it wasn’t right. Nathan, however, frowned and scolded her: “Have you looked in a mirror lately? Do you see how exhausted you look? Don’t worry about this, listen to me!” Watching the suppressed, deep affection on their faces, I quietly tucked the divorce papers back into my purse. If this was how it was going to be, the division of our assets was going to need a serious recalculation. 1 Today, Rachel’s divorce from Greg became official. To celebrate her rebirth, she threw a dinner party and invited a bunch of friends. That included me and Nathan. Nathan was her divorce attorney. If it hadn’t been for him, her lawsuit against Greg wouldn’t have been settled so quickly, and she wouldn’t have walked away with nearly as much in alimony and assets. So, she offered her very first toast to Nathan. “Nathan, thank you. I won’t make a big speech, but I want to toast you.” Nathan, however, didn’t look pleased. His brow was furrowed. He said, “I’m on medication. I can’t drink.” I gave him a weird look. I managed the medicine cabinet at home. Every time Nathan felt sick, I was the one who found him his meds. I knew for a fact he wasn’t on any medication. But I couldn’t understand why he would lie. Rachel’s hand stiffened around her glass. She stood there awkwardly. She looked at him timidly. “Then… then you don’t have to drink! I’ll drink it for you!” Nathan’s frown deepened. Watching Rachel down the glass of wine in one gulp, his eyes grew dark. Rachel was genuinely happy today. For the past six months, ever since Greg’s affair came to light, her smiles had grown rare. Today, her brow was finally relaxed. She mingled with our friends, laughing and joking, fluttering around like a little songbird. Nathan, however, seemed entirely distracted. He instinctively served food onto my plate, but his eyes kept following something—or someone—around the room. Until he placed a piece of beef on my plate. I sighed, suddenly feeling inexplicably exhausted. I am severely allergic to beef. Nathan knew this. He was usually more careful about it than I was. Whenever we ate out, he was always the one reminding the waiters. This was the first time he had ever carelessly dropped beef onto my plate. I opened my mouth, just about to say something, when he suddenly stood up. “I’m going to the restroom.” Before I could react, he had already left the private dining room. “Where’s Rachel?” I asked a friend sitting next to me. “She just stepped out, probably to the restroom! By the way, where’s your husband?” I pursed my lips and stood up. “Where are you going?” “Stepping out for some fresh air!” There was a window at the end of the hallway. I genuinely just wanted some fresh air. I didn’t go out looking to catch them in an affair, nor did I expect to. Just around the corner, Rachel was leaning weakly against Nathan’s chest. Nathan pulled a blister pack of pills from his pocket and fed them to her, then unscrewed a water bottle and helped her take small sips. He put on a stern face and pretended to be angry. “Serves you right!” Rachel playfully glared at him. “Why are you like this? Not giving me any grace in front of all those people. I was so embarrassed!” Nathan glared right back at her. “Give you grace? If I enabled you any more, you’d be in the hospital! Did you forget you have gastroenteritis?” Rachel smiled softly. “I’m fine!” Nathan scoffed and let her go. “Fine, you’re fine! If I care about you again, I’m a dog!” Rachel grabbed his sleeve, coaxing him softly. “Okay, okay, I know you’re just looking out for me! “Let’s go back, before Victoria starts worrying!” 2 I fled. The moment they stepped out from the corner, I scrambled away in a panic. One was my absolute best friend, the other the man I loved most. How was I supposed to face them?! But looking back, everything happening now felt like a trap I had set for myself. Rachel was my childhood friend. We grew up together. Over twenty years of friendship meant I trusted her more than anyone else in the world. And she trusted me just as much. So, when she found out Greg was cheating, I was the first person she called. That was an agonizing time for her. She was obsessed with why Greg cheated, why he betrayed her. She wasn’t thinking about how to legally protect herself; she stubbornly just wanted an emotional answer. I stayed by her side. We drank, we went clubbing, we took weekend trips. Nathan had a lot of complaints back then. He felt I was neglecting him for Rachel. I couldn’t help it. I just tried my best to appease them both. Later, Rachel finally made up her mind. She wanted a divorce, but Greg refused, meaning she had to take him to court. “Victoria, could you ask Nathan to represent me?” I wanted to help her as much as possible, but I was worried Nathan would say no. Sure enough, when I told him her request, he frowned deeply. “Civil litigation and messy divorces aren’t my specialty. If she needs it, I can refer her to a great family lawyer. Plus, I just don’t have the time.” Nathan was busy, but he could have made the time. I knew he just didn’t want to take Rachel’s case. Because he thought Rachel was overly dramatic, performative, and entirely too emotional. “You can’t be firm with them, you can’t reason with them. Clients like that are a nightmare!” But Rachel only trusted Nathan. “Just like I trust you. Victoria, please help me, okay?” With no other choice, I pestered Nathan relentlessly, even resorting to the “honey trap” in the bedroom. Finally, he hugged me, exasperated. “Fine, fine, I’ll take it!” I forced Nathan to take this case. So, when he and Rachel started getting closer, and eventually crossed the line, he could self-righteously say: “Didn’t you force me to take this case?” 3 When I returned to the private room, Rachel was sitting in my seat, talking to Nathan. Nathan was listening while pouring a glass of water and handing it to her. She took it so naturally, as if this sequence of actions had happened a hundred times before. Rachel noticed me first. Her expression stiffened for a split second, then she quickly stood up and grabbed my hand. “Victoria, where did you go? I didn’t see you in the hall!” I gently pushed her hand away. “Just stepped out for some air.” Rachel’s eyes looked a bit hurt. She pretended everything was fine and smiled at me. “Then you sit. I’m going to go chat with Mike and the others.” I sat back down. Nathan lowered his voice and said irritably, “What kind of mood are you throwing now?” I looked at him, confused. “What mood am I throwing?” Nathan kept a straight face, looking at me as if I knew exactly what he meant. That was interesting. I genuinely laughed out loud. Nathan looked like he wanted to say something else, but it got loud again across the room. A few people were clamoring to do tequila shots with Rachel. Almost as a conditioned reflex, Nathan started to stand up. I pressed him firmly back down. “They’re my friends. Give me some respect!” After speaking, I walked over before he could and blocked Rachel. I said, “She has stomach issues, she can’t drink! If you guys really want to go hard, I’ll drink with you!” If I had looked back at that moment, I probably would have seen Rachel turn pale. But I didn’t look back. I just smiled and played along with the crowd. They didn’t push it, even commenting on what amazing friends Rachel and I were. Later, I drank a lot. Rachel wanted to stop me but didn’t dare step forward. Nathan grabbed my hand, but I shoved him away. In the end, it was Nathan who carried me to the car. Standing outside the car, he said to Rachel, “Get in, I’ll drop you off first.” Rachel shook her head. “It’s fine, I’ll get an Uber. You take Victoria home!” Nathan was incredibly insistent. “It’s too late. I’m not comfortable with you going alone. It’s fine, it’s on the way.” Rachel suddenly lowered her voice. “Nathan, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Just go!” I eavesdropped on the whole thing without an ounce of guilt, then closed my eyes and rolled over in the backseat. Nathan ultimately surrendered to the fragile, pleading Rachel. The drive back was completely silent. No music, no talking. That night, Nathan didn’t sleep a wink, chain-smoking on the balcony until dawn. Meanwhile, I slept like a rock, and even had a rare good dream. 4 Rachel’s case wasn’t smooth from the start. Just like Nathan predicted, she was entirely driven by emotion. Every time Nathan asked a legal question, what came out of her mouth was a tearful rant, not facts. With no other choice, I became her translator and spokesperson. This made Nathan very unhappy. He slammed his hand on the desk and told me: “Get out. I need to talk to her alone!” When Nathan got mad, even I was intimidated by him, let alone Rachel. She grabbed my hand, refusing to let me leave. Nathan said coldly, “Either listen to me, or find another lawyer.” With no other option, Rachel let go of me. That day, they talked in his office for over an hour. When she came out, Rachel looked surprisingly radiant. She said, “Nathan is really amazing.” “How so?” “He’s just… so gentle!” Her description made my heart skip a beat, but I didn’t overthink it. I asked Nathan what he said to her. He said, “I just don’t like her personality, doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. She’s just not independent; she can’t function without you holding her hand. From now on, I’ll communicate with her one-on-one.” I figured Nathan’s decision made sense professionally, so I trusted him. Sure enough, from that day on, the case progressed much smoother. At first, Rachel would still share updates with me. But I don’t know when exactly our contact started to dwindle. Until one day, I called her and asked what stage the settlement was at. She sounded relaxed. “What stage? I don’t even know. Whatever Nathan tells me to sign, I sign. He handles everything.” I laughed helplessly. “Fine, I’ll just ask him when he gets home tonight.” But she said no need. “Nathan is right here with me. I’ll put him on.” And just like that, very abruptly, through my best friend’s phone, I was talking to my husband. I wasn’t really paying attention to what he said. I was just thinking, their relationship seemed to be getting better and better. Nathan joked, “I’m getting along with your best friend, aren’t you happy?” I pretended to ask casually, “Do you still hate Rachel?” Nathan was holding his laptop, dealing with some documents. He chuckled, taking a break. “She’s actually kind of cute!” Too many clues were pulling the string in my heart tighter and tighter. When did that string finally snap? It must have been that early morning. Nathan and I were asleep, but his phone suddenly rang. Half-asleep, he answered it. I don’t know what he heard, but the next second, he sprang out of bed like he had been struck by lightning. “Why are you crying? Don’t be scared, lock the door, call 911, and I’ll be right there!” His tone was calm, he was even smiling reassuringly. But the way he frantically rummaged for his clothes in the dark betrayed his panic. Nathan was always composed. That was the first time I ever saw him lose his cool. But even though he was panicking, he was still trying his best to comfort the person on the other end. That gave me a very bad feeling. I asked him, “What’s wrong? What happened?” He said, “That scumbag Greg went to harass Rachel again. Go back to sleep, I’m heading over there!” “Why didn’t she call me?” The words blurted out of my mouth. Nathan whipped his head around to look at me, his gaze sharp as a knife. “You don’t care about her safety, you only care about that?! Victoria, you’re crossing a line. Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend?!” Right, she was my best friend. But when she was terrified and panicking, the first person she contacted was my husband. Nathan was furious and practically slammed the door on his way out. I stood frozen in place for a long time, forcing down the surging emotions, and finally decided to follow him. When I got there, the door to Rachel’s apartment was wide open. Her suppressed crying was clearly audible. Along with Nathan’s low, gentle voice comforting her. “Stop crying, it’s okay, I’m here now, aren’t I? He won’t dare do anything to you!” I didn’t listen to anymore. I walked right in, looking at the two of them holding each other, and said, “What are you two doing?” Looking back, I probably should have been scared. I didn’t dare listen to more. I didn’t dare let them keep talking, afraid I’d hear something that would shatter my reality completely. 5 Nathan had been very active at work lately. He left early. By the time I woke up, he was already gone. He bought breakfast for me, left it on the table with a sticky note reminding me to eat. I stared at the food for a long time, but didn’t touch it. I got a call from a property manager in the afternoon. They asked if I forgot to turn off a faucet, saying the downstairs neighbor complained about a massive leak. It was bizarre. No one had lived in my old condo for a long time, even the main water valve was shut off. How could it be leaking? I rushed over. Turns out, it really was our problem. The bathroom faucet was gushing, and water had already flooded out into the hallway. I quickly shut the water off, apologized profusely to the neighbor downstairs, and discussed paying for the water damage. I put on a smiling face, took their scolding and complaints, and finally resolved the issue. After seeing the neighbor out, my face instantly went cold. The property manager asked if I had rented the place out, wondering who was currently living there. Right, who was living there? It was Rachel. Didn’t expect that, did you? Neither did I. When I saw a framed photo of her and her son on the counter, I actually felt dizzy for a second. Was I blind? I thought I was calm enough. But when I pulled out my phone to make a call, I realized my hands were shaking. How humiliating. My hands were shaking like a leaf. Taking a deep breath, I desperately suppressed the screaming in my head and called Nathan. No answer. I called Rachel. Still no answer. How was I supposed to process this? How could I process this? Without stopping, I drove straight to Nathan’s law firm. He might not be there, but he might be. If he was there, what was I supposed to say? My brain was a chaotic mess the entire drive. But the one thing I never expected was for Rachel to be sitting in Nathan’s office, wearing professional business attire. Rachel was sitting in the desk chair; Nathan was standing close behind her. He was leaning over, one hand on the desk, the other on the mouse, completely caging Rachel beneath his body. He was smiling, explaining something softly. Rachel looked up at him, her eyes full of complete reliance and adoration. “BANG!” I shoved the door open hard. It slammed against the wall with a sharp crack. 6 Nathan said, “I just wanted to help her. She’s been a stay-at-home mom for so long, it’s very hard for her to re-enter the workforce. I happen to need a legal assistant, so I’m letting her try it out. If she’s interested, she can study for her paralegal certificate. Whether she stays here or moves on, it’s a solid career path for her.” This version of Nathan was so unfamiliar it made my skin crawl. “I never knew you were such a thoughtful philanthropist.” Nathan looked at me, deeply irritated. “You don’t need to be sarcastic. There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Rachel. A clear conscience needs no defense!” I nodded slowly. “Got it!” But when I got up to leave, he grabbed my arm. “What does that mean?” I looked at him in feigned confusion. “Didn’t you say your conscience is clear? Do whatever you want!” When I opened the office door, Rachel was standing right outside. She looked terrified and anxious, her eyes darting like a frightened rabbit, trembling and slightly red. “Victoria, it’s not what you think, let me explain!” “No need, Nathan already made it perfectly clear.” She seemed even more terrified, whipping her head to look at Nathan, then back at me. “What… what did he tell you?” I gave a half-smile. “Don’t you know what he said?” Nathan suddenly spoke up. “You don’t have to scare her. I told her from the beginning that there is absolutely nothing between us.” Rachel secretly let out a breath of relief. I knew these two people too well. Sometimes I was grateful for that familiarity; other times I despised it. “By the way,” I said to Rachel, “you forgot to turn off the faucet when you left today. Be careful next time. As you know, my parents left that condo to me. Nathan’s name isn’t on the deed. Move out in three days, can you do that?” Rachel’s eyes went wide. She looked at me in a panic, looking like she was about to collapse. Nathan stepped forward, about to speak. I shook my head at him. “The whole office is watching. Don’t make me cause a scene!” I walked away without looking back. I heard Rachel fainted right after I left. Nathan came home to pack a suitcase and told me about it. “I let her stay in the old condo because Greg kept harassing her. I was originally going to discuss it with you, but you were constantly overthinking and assuming the worst back then. We just didn’t want you to misunderstand.” He said, “Let’s take some time to cool off. I’ll stay at the firm for a few days, and I can keep an eye on Rachel while I’m at it.” “Nathan,” I called out to him. “Have you fallen in love with Rachel?” Nathan looked at me, his gaze freezing cold. He scoffed. “Victoria, that’s enough!” He left without a shred of hesitation. It suddenly reminded me of something Greg said. Back then, Rachel was crying, asking him: “Why did you do this to me? How could you do this to me? Didn’t you say you’d love me forever?” And what did Greg say? His expression was cold, his tone heartless. “Everything in this world changes. Why can’t I change? Why can’t my feelings for you change?” And what’s even weirder is, Greg was the one who cheated. He was the one whose feelings changed. But in the end, he had the audacity to say, “I never thought about divorcing you.” As if his refusal to divorce was some kind of… charity? 7 I went to the hospital the next afternoon. Before going to the hospital, I stopped by Nathan’s firm. He wasn’t there. His colleague told me, “It’s lunch time, he probably went to the hospital. These past two days, he’s been leaving right on the dot…” The colleague paused, looking at me awkwardly. “He just has a good heart and treats people well. Don’t overthink it.” I smiled and left. Nathan had a good heart? Not really. On the contrary, he was actually quite cold. He drew a very clear line between his own business and other people’s problems. In his own words: “Not empathizing is my professional code of conduct, and it’s also respect for myself and my clients.” All these years, he never flirted with anyone, and never did anything that could cause a misunderstanding. If he treated someone well, it came from the bottom of his heart. When I arrived at the hospital, Nathan was coaxing Rachel to eat. “You need to eat a little. I brought all your favorites today, don’t ruin your body. “I’ll handle everything. Don’t worry. I’ll go talk to Victoria!” With me? Talk about what? While I was standing there confused, Rachel panicked and grabbed Nathan’s hand. “No, don’t, don’t tell Victoria. This is my problem, it has nothing to do with you two. I’ll handle it myself. Don’t get involved, don’t go to Victoria.” Nathan frowned. “What are you going to do? Tell me, what are you planning to do?” Rachel bit her lip, looking utterly helpless and fragile. Nathan sighed and rubbed the top of her head. “Don’t be scared, I’m here!” I stood at the door, watching all of this numbly. A sharp pain pierced my heart. I bit my tongue, using physical pain to suppress the emotional agony. “What do you guys want to talk to me about?” The moment she saw me, Rachel dodged away from Nathan like she had been burned. Nathan froze for a second, pulling his hand back, looking a bit lost. Rachel’s eyes trembled as she looked at me, forcing a fawning smile. “Victoria, you’re here.” I gave her a blank look, then turned to Nathan. “Tell me. What exactly do you want to talk to me about?” “Nothing! It’s nothing!” Rachel denied immediately. Nathan, however, stepped forward. “There’s something I need your help with!” “Nathan, shut up!” Rachel tried to stop him, but Nathan didn’t give her the chance. He said, “Victoria, let’s get a divorce! “Victoria, just think of it as doing Rachel a favor. Once little Mason’s school zoning situation is secured, we’ll remarry, okay?” I never thought I’d hear something so absurd. So absurd I actually questioned my own sanity. “What?” Rachel went pale, grabbing Nathan’s sleeve, stammering. “I’m begging you, stop talking!” But Nathan seemed determined. “Victoria, let’s get a divorce, just temporarily!” “Shut up, Nathan! Victoria, don’t listen to him, he’s talking nonsense!” Nathan got angry. He scowled at Rachel. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? Do you see how exhausted you are? Don’t worry about this, listen to me!” Rachel cried. Nathan looked like he wanted to raise his hand to wipe her tears, but stopped himself. His face was full of suppressed, deep affection. It made me want to vomit. I quietly tightened my grip on the divorce papers I had brought in my purse, pushing them deeper inside. “Nathan, in your dreams!” If this was how it was going to be, the division of our assets was going to need a serious recalculation. 8 Nathan chased me out of the hospital. He grabbed my arm, his brow furrowed with intense frustration. “Victoria, we need to talk!” I let out a cold laugh. “Talk about what? About getting a divorce? Nathan, you’re really something!” Nathan rubbed his temples. “I told you it’s a fake divorce. I just want to help Rachel.” “Nathan, do you even believe the words coming out of your own mouth?” “I’m telling the truth. If you don’t want to believe me, there’s nothing I can do.” Playing the rogue. “Fine, I’m in no rush anyway. Or you can always sue me. You haven’t had a chance to represent yourself in family court yet, have you!” Nathan stared at me with a deep frown. “Victoria, I’m trying to discuss this with you. I told you, I never intended to actually divorce you. This is just a temporary fix.” I shook my head. “I won’t agree! Nathan, why should I trust you?” Nathan wanted to say something else, but his phone rang. I tried to pull my arm away. He held on tight. But when he saw the caller ID, he hesitated, and I easily broke free. “I have something to do. We’ll talk later!” I stared at my wrist for a moment, then turned and walked away. Halfway down the street, I looked back, only catching Nathan’s retreating figure as he hurried back into the hospital. Rachel said she wanted to talk. I agreed. We met at a bookstore cafe we used to frequent. Rachel didn’t look well. She really might be sick; she looked exhausted. Seeing me, she stood up awkwardly. “Victoria, you’re here. Sit down. What do you want to drink?” I ordered a black coffee and sat down. “Tell me. What do you want to talk about?” Rachel pursed her lips. “Don’t listen to Nathan’s nonsense. He’s just worried about Mason’s schooling. I’ll solve it myself, I can’t keep troubling you two!” Rachel was smart for once. She grouped me and Nathan together, framing it as if she just didn’t want us to go out of our way to help her. But it was too late! “Rachel, do you like Nathan?” Rachel shook her head vigorously. “I don’t, how could I, how could I possibly like him?” “Then I don’t understand. If you don’t like him, why are you giving him signals?” “I didn’t!” Rachel denied emphatically. “Victoria, I swear I didn’t!” I smiled and shook my head. “Rachel, adults have boundaries. If you didn’t give him the ‘you can approach me’ signal, he wouldn’t dare push it. Of course, this isn’t entirely your fault. If he hadn’t crossed the line first, you probably wouldn’t have dared either. I believe this is what they call… mutual attraction? “Are you really not going to tell me the story of you and Nathan? Aren’t we best friends who share everything?” Rachel’s face was white as a sheet. She looked at me timidly. “Victoria, I really didn’t!” My gaze grew cold, and my face hardened. “Didn’t? Rachel, you’re a romantic. You like to project a man’s love for you onto little things. Like always putting you first, like rushing to your side immediately, like remembering your preferences, like buying you medicine instead of telling you to buy it, like reserving his passenger seat just for you. “You know I don’t care about that stuff, but you do. So, when you and Nathan came to see me, and you were sitting in the passenger seat, what were you thinking?” Rachel sat frozen in place. I pointed across the street. “Before you two got here, I was right over there. Great view!” So I clearly saw Nathan drop Rachel off, and after she got out, he wrapped his scarf around her neck. Rachel opened her mouth. I cut her off. “Were you going to say he was just worried about you? Rachel, don’t you think my husband’s worry for you was a bit much? He really loves you, doesn’t he!” Rachel cried, covering her face and sobbing loudly. I watched her apathetically, no longer feeling any of the pity I used to. “Victoria, I’m wrong, I’m sorry, I’m wrong!” She said, “Greg’s cheating made me doubt myself. Was I not good enough? Was it my fault? Otherwise why would he fall for someone else? “Victoria, I never wanted to hurt you, I never thought about having anything happen with Nathan. It’s just… he was so good to me, I was so happy. I suddenly felt like I was worthy of being loved too.” She said it was just vanity, she just enjoyed a man treating a woman well. It’s just unfortunate that the man happened to be my husband. “I’m sorry, Victoria, I’m wrong! The moment Nathan asked you for a fake divorce, I knew I was wrong. I promise you, there is absolutely nothing between us, I’ll back off, I’ll give him back to you! Victoria, can you forgive me, please?” I gently wiped away a tear that had escaped my eye. “You realized it that late? So, when he hugged and comforted you in the middle of the night, bought you medicine, held you and fed it to you, secretly let you live in my apartment, got you a job at his firm… you thought all of that was fine?” “No, Victoria, I…” “Pretty addictive, right? My man going out of his way to treat you well, even better than he treats me, even embarrassing me for it. Was it addictive?” Rachel cried and shook her head. It seemed she had nothing left to say besides shaking her head. “You said you’d give him back to me? So you’ve already accepted that he’s yours, right? When did he tell you he liked you?” Rachel looked up in shock, staring at me in disbelief. As if she didn’t understand how I knew. I leaned back against my chair, defeated. “Rachel, I’ve known you for over twenty years. I’ve protected you for over twenty years. No one in this world understands you better than I do!” My one sentence completely shattered her defenses. “Victoria!” “Remember the woman Greg cheated with? I ran into her a few days ago. She didn’t end up with Greg. She has a new boyfriend and they’re getting married at the end of the year. She looked great, very at peace, even feeling like she had been reborn. She said she wanted to apologize to you, said she was immature back then, and hopes you can forgive her. She said she’s started over, and hopes you can too!” I understood Rachel. And equally, she understood me. She knew what I was trying to say, which is why she cried and begged me to stop talking. But my kindness toward her was long gone. “Can you forgive her? Rachel. She tore your family apart, messed up your life, and then she brushes her hands off and says sorry, and that’s it? Why does she think she can spit out chewed-up sugarcane and you have to pick it up and eat it? Why does she think you have to accept what she gives back? Rachel, tell me, how can she be so awful?” 9 Rachel asked me what I wanted. I gave a half-smile. “A divorce! Making room for you two!” Rachel’s lips trembled. “I never thought about that before, and I won’t in the future. Victoria, I won’t be with him!” Her solemn tone made it sound like an oath. “Really?” I looked out the window. Then congratulations to Nathan, his efforts were going to be completely in vain. She said, “If you want a divorce, then get a divorce!” Before leaving, she asked me, “Victoria, are we still friends?” I didn’t answer that question. I just told her: “Rachel, what you did this time hurt me far more than what Nathan did!” Rachel and I truly grew up together. From kindergarten to marriage, we were never separated. Back then, our families lived very close, just a floor apart in the same complex. Her parents were always fighting, getting physical. She would be terrified and hide in the stairwell, crying. I would take her hand and bring her to my house. We ate together, played games together, did homework together, slept together. From kindergarten all the way to high school. The furthest distance between us was the distance between Class 1 and Class 3. Later, we studied our asses off to get into the same university, moving to the same city. My mom joked: “When you two get married, you should just marry guys from the same town!” Rachel nodded. “I can’t leave Victoria!” How hilarious. To be stabbed in the back this deeply by the person I trusted most… I really asked for it! Nathan came home at dusk. He said to me, “Victoria, let’s just pretend we’re helping Rachel. She’s your best friend, you can’t bear to see her so miserable, right?” He said, “We’re just getting a fake divorce, and when the time is right, we’ll remarry. If you’re worried, I’ll transfer all the assets to your name.” I looked at the man in front of me. Watched him blinded by love. Watched him delude himself. “Fine. Let’s get a divorce!” The divorce process was smooth and fast. I drafted the divorce agreement. The house, the cars, and the bank savings all went to me. The day the divorce was finalized, I asked Nathan to leave the house. He was stunned, looking confused. “What do you mean?” I said, “The house is mine. We’re divorced. Isn’t it normal for you to move out?” “We only got a fake divorce.” “Who told you that?” “Victoria, what exactly is your angle here?” I smiled coldly. “Nathan, I never once considered getting a fake divorce with you.” Nathan was smart. He realized it instantly. “You played me?” “Played you? I wouldn’t go that far! Didn’t I just give you what you wanted, with a little compensation for myself?” Nathan stared at me for a long time. Finally, he said, “You didn’t have to do this. Rachel and I had nothing going on before, and we won’t in the future. I really just wanted to help her, it’s impossible for anything to happen between us!” “None of my business.” “Victoria, what exactly do you want to achieve?” Looking at Nathan’s disbelief, as if he thought I was the one being unreasonable, I only felt a deep sorrow. “Nathan, how little do you understand me? Did you really think I’d turn a blind eye to your ambiguous relationship with Rachel? Did you really think I could swallow this insult? I can’t! But what am I supposed to do? I can’t kill you. So just stay far away from me, stop disgusting me!” My words were harsh. Nathan’s face darkened. “Victoria, stop throwing a tantrum!” I just looked at him and scoffed. His expression grew uglier and uglier. “Fine, don’t regret this!”

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  • Eight Years in the Shadows, Eight Days to the Altar

    For eight long years, I was trapped in a blurry, toxic situationship with Liam Spencer. Whenever he introduced me to his friends, he would just say lightly, “She’s my sister.” Until a few days ago, when he eloped with a girl he had known for exactly eight days. She posted a picture of their marriage certificate online. In the comments, she pinned a sweet reply: “Love isn’t measured in time.” 1 The night before Liam’s “business trip,” we spent the entire night tangled in his bed. “…Are you not tired at all?” I bit my lip, looking up at the man I had loved for eight years with a mix of obsession and pleading, hoping he would finish soon. Or at least, be a little gentler. “I’m flying out tomorrow.” Liam kissed my sweat-dampened forehead and chuckled. “Just cashing in an advance for the next month.” I was about to protest when he suddenly covered my lips. “My parents just got home.” “Be good. Don’t make a sound.” But his movements didn’t pause for even a second. A sudden wave of grievance washed over me. “Do you really hate the idea of them knowing… about us?” Liam gave a faint “Mhm,” and went back to kissing me. “It’s hard to explain.” “…” By the time the thunder woke me up, Liam was already gone. The AC in the room was blasting, but my entire body felt scorchingly hot. First thing the next morning, I sent Liam a text with a photo of a thermometer reading 102°F. He didn’t reply. While waiting for my medicine to be delivered, I started scrolling through Instagram. And then, I saw a post shared by a mutual friend. It was Liam’s official announcement— “I haven’t known you long, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” The post included a picture of a marriage certificate. The date of the marriage was today. The bride was a beautiful, gentle-looking stranger. I stared blankly at that tiny ID photo, a dull, throbbing pain spreading through my chest. We had been entangled for eight years. Every time he introduced me, he always said, “My sister.” Yet he had eloped. With a girl he had known for barely eight days. Under the post, she replied intimately: “Love isn’t measured in time.” 2 The location tag on Liam’s post showed he was right here in the city. He never went on a business trip at all. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold my phone. I don’t know how many frantic, questioning voicemails I left him. Or how many times I called. Liam didn’t reply to a single text, nor did he answer a single call. It was pouring rain outside. I braved the storm and searched for him like a madwoman for three whole hours. Finally, I found him at a bar he frequented. The VIP booth was loud and lively. Surrounded by the crowd, Liam was currently drinking a linked-arm toast with a woman. Through the sea of people, I saw the woman softly call him, “Liam.” The friends around them erupted into teasing cheers. “You guys are officially married! Why are you still calling him by his first name?” The woman looked down shyly and murmured, “Hubby.” “Mhm.” Liam let out a low chuckle, leaning down to kiss her. The room erupted in applause and whistles. They stood in the center of the crowd, bathed in the light, accepting everyone’s blessings out in the open. I stared at the scene in a daze, suffocating from the pain. I almost forgot why I had even come here. 3 My mom and Liam’s mom were best friends. During my sophomore year of high school, my parents moved to Europe for a business venture and left me to board at Liam’s house. Since then, I had harbored a massive crush on him. When he graduated high school, I took a gap year and studied relentlessly until I finally got into the same university as him. I had gathered all my courage to confess my feelings, only to overhear him talking to his roommate: “Chloe? Please. I’m not sick enough to want to date my own sister.” After that, I actively distanced myself from him. Until recently. I was walking home late one night when a deranged man charged at me with a knife. Liam took the blade for me. He was severely injured and spent two whole months lying in a hospital bed. That was when I realized he had been secretly waiting for me to get home every night during that period. The night he was discharged, I asked him, “How can I ever thank you?” Liam stared at me for a long time before suddenly leaning in and kissing me. We started dating that night. The first time we slept together, it wasn’t the greatest experience. I couldn’t handle the pain and ended up biting down hard on his arm. “Have you… been like this with anyone else?” I asked. “Kissing, sleeping together…” “Have other women ever bitten you like this?” “No. Only you.” “Mhm. My girlfriend.” Liam’s gentle, doting tone had felt like a true lover’s whisper. I never imagined that before we could even announce our relationship, he would secretly marry someone else. 4 When I pushed open the door to the booth, someone turned around and shouted, “Chloe?!” It was his old college roommate, Matt. Liam looked over, too. He seemed to freeze for a second, staring at my drenched, pathetic state. “How did you get yourself looking like this?” “Liam, I just want an explanation.” Liam’s expression was completely indifferent. “What explanation do you want?” I subconsciously dug my fingernails into my palms. I wanted to ask. Why did you lie about a business trip? Why did you elope with someone else when you already had me? But as the words reached the tip of my tongue, I felt the curious, judging, and even disdainful stares from the crowd around us. Every word I wanted to say was swallowed by cowardice and humiliation— He had never made our relationship public. The moment I said the words out loud, I would become the “other woman.” During our standoff, the woman walked over, wrapping her arm naturally around Liam’s. She looked me up and down with subtle, probing curiosity. “Hubby, who is this?” “A neighbor’s sister.” Liam answered without a single second of hesitation. “Chloe, this is your sister-in-law.” Someone whistled. “Oh, so it’s a little sister! Come on, say hi to your sister-in-law so Emma can give you a nice wedding gift.” Emma’s face instantly flushed. The look she gave me carried a subtle triumph and an eager expectation. In that moment, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. I raised my hand and slapped Liam as hard as I could across the face. “Liam, is this how you hold hands, kiss, and even sleep with your sister?” I took off the tiny ring I had always worn on my finger and dropped it into Emma’s hand. “Sister-in-law, then I wish you and my brother a happy marriage.” That ring was a graduation gift from Mrs. Spencer. Back then, she had always tried to set Liam and me up, teasing him, “Liam, when are you going to buy Chloe a real ring?” The moment I turned and walked away, I heard Liam chase after me, his voice urgent as he yelled, “Chloe!” 5 I didn’t stop. I flagged down a cab and climbed inside. Liam sent me a text— “Why would you just run in and make a scene without asking me anything?” “Chloe, I will explain everything to you.” … He married someone else behind my back, and he actually had the nerve to blame me? I blocked every single one of his contacts. I dragged myself back to my apartment. The moment I closed the door, I noticed someone moving around in the living room. My heart skipped a beat. Just as I was about to call 911, I received a text from my mom— “Aunt Sarah’s son just got back from Europe and doesn’t have a place to stay yet. Didn’t you say you were moving into Liam’s place? I told him he could crash at our apartment for a bit. He should be arriving today.” … I clutched my phone, not even getting the chance to reply before a sudden, violently hot wave of dizziness hit my brain. The moment I lost consciousness, I thought I saw an unfamiliar, incredibly handsome face. When I woke up, a man was swapping a warm towel on my forehead. Our eyes met, and the air turned a little awkward. “Are you Aunt Sarah’s son, Reid?” Aunt Sarah was my mom’s best friend who lived abroad; her husband was British. The man set the towel down and smiled at me, speaking in perfect, unaccented English. “I go by my American name here. Carter. Carter Hayes.” After chatting with Carter for a while, I was surprised to learn he was actually two years younger than me. “Until I find an apartment, I’ll be in your care, Chloe,” Carter joked. For the next few days, even though Carter was crashing at my place, he seemed incredibly busy. He left early and came back late, so we were mostly just exchanging morning and evening greetings. Since I blocked Liam, he didn’t come to harass me either. But then, I was scrolling through a mutual friend’s likes and saw photos of Liam and Emma surfing in Cabo. I stared at it in a daze. Two years ago, when I graduated college and landed an amazing job offer, Liam said he wanted to get me a gift. I had pointed excitedly at a magazine spread. “Let’s go surfing in Cabo!” Liam had frozen, then gently rejected the idea. “Chloe, I’m terrified of the water.” Later, I learned he had seen a childhood friend drown in a river, leaving him with deep trauma. In this photo, he was surfing the waves with Emma. Emma was laughing brightly, and Liam was holding her from behind. They looked incredibly in love. Turns out, even trauma depends on the person. 6 Even though I had resolved never to see Liam again, I still had some important IDs and documents at his apartment. After messaging him with no response, I picked a time to take an Uber over and get my things. When I arrived, I punched in the passcode three times. It flashed “Error.” It finally dawned on me—Liam had changed the passcode. Naturally, my fingerprint had been deleted too. The door clicked open. “Chloe?” The moment Liam saw me, a flash of something complicated crossed his eyes. The apartment was loud and chaotic. It was a party. “Oh, if it isn’t Liam’s little sister!” “Can you really call her a sister if they’ve slept together? More like a sugar sister~” “What, regretting that slap from the other day? Coming crawling back to apologize?” “Easy. Chug a few bottles for the boys, and I’ll forgive you on Liam’s behalf.” The guys burst into laughter, looking at me with frivolous, careless eyes. “Who is it?” Emma walked over holding a slice of cake. When she saw it was me, her smile slowly vanished. “I just came to get—” Before I could finish, Emma shoved the slice of cake directly into my face. My vision went dark as the thick, sticky frosting smeared across my eyes. “How do you even have the face to show up here?” “Liam told me everything. He treated you like a real sister, and you’re the one who kept throwing yourself at him.” “Trying to seduce your own brother? Are you really that desperate for a man?” The crowd broke into whispers. I wiped my face. Expressionless, I grabbed a handful of the ruined cake from the floor and hurled it right back at Emma’s face. “Right back at you.” Emma shrieked. “Are you psychotic?!” I smiled, meeting Liam’s eyes perfectly. “Liam. Was I the one who seduced you first?” He didn’t speak. He just stared at my face. In the reflection of the glass window, I could see a dense rash of red hives breaking out across my neck. Right. I’ve been severely allergic to dairy and heavy cream since I was a kid. The very first birthday I spent at the Spencers’, his mom made me a beautiful buttercream cake. I was so terrified of disappointing her as a houseguest that I carefully ate the cake slice by slice, trying to avoid the frosting. That was how Liam discovered my secret. That night, he brought me allergy medicine. “I already told my mom not to use cream on your cakes anymore.” “From now on, if anything is wrong, you can tell me first. Don’t always bottle it up inside.” There was no moon that night, but his eyes were softer and more forgiving than moonlight, wrapping tightly around my anxious, terrified heart. Over the years, he was the one who slowly pulled me in. He ran hot and cold, pulling me close and pushing me away, but in the end, I was the only one who truly fell in love. “I knew you wouldn’t admit it.” Emma’s voice yanked me back to reality. Before I could react, she gathered a pile of crumpled papers and threw them all over me. “Is this enough proof?!” “For a girl to be this clingy and desperate… it’s honestly pathetic.” I stood there, frozen. These were the letters I wrote to Liam during my gap year. Pages and pages, all scattered on the floor. The onlookers were practically buzzing with excitement. A few curious ones had already picked them up to read. “Liam, I knitted a scarf for you…” “I heard college is super demanding. Are you really busy right now…?” Back then, Liam must have been truly busy. He never wrote back, until I sent my final letter. “Your university is so hard to get into. Why couldn’t I just be a little bit smarter? I’m already trying so hard.” “I can’t go to the same school as you. I’m sorry. I’m really useless. Liam, please don’t forget me, okay…?” Every word was so pathetic, yet so sincere. Liam only replied with one sentence: “Chloe, I’ll help you.” And he did. He dropped his college work, took me to amusement parks to destress, tutored me, and reviewed my test mistakes. When I finally got accepted, he even rushed back to celebrate with me. And now, Liam had told Emma all about these things, just to prove to her that I was the pathetic stalker who wouldn’t leave him alone. Even though I had resolved to let him go, tears still streamed down my face uncontrollably. Emma’s mocking words rang in my ears, stabbing me in the heart: “Liam told me you were honestly just really annoying back then.” The strange guests joined in the heckling. “So she’s just a desperate groupie.” “The guy is married and she’s still begging for it. Yikes.” I took a deep breath and said calmly, “Whether you believe it or not, I never actively threw myself at him.” “While we were in a committed relationship, he eloped with Emma.” “I’m only here to get my ID.” Under the gazes of the crowd, I collected my documents. I turned to look at the silent Liam. “I won’t ever bother you again. Because you don’t deserve me.” 7 When I got home, I curled up on the couch and sobbed. “Are you okay?” A tissue suddenly appeared in my vision. Through the blurry haze of my tears, I saw Carter staring at me quietly. “Can you do me a small favor?” he asked suddenly. Carter’s “small favor” was rescuing a stray cat. The frail little kitten was hiding under a car, too terrified to come out. There were always strays in our complex, and I was pretty good at dealing with them, so I managed to coax it out relatively quickly. “Chloe, you’re amazing,” Carter said. I felt a little embarrassed and quickly looked away. On the walk back, I shared a bunch of funny stories about my past encounters with stray cats. I felt like I had momentarily forgotten all my miseries. During the walk, an unknown number kept calling my phone. I had a pretty good guess who it was, so I didn’t answer. It was already past 11 PM when we got back. After I showered, Carter poured me a glass of warm water. “Feeling a little better?” It finally clicked in my head, and I let out a dry laugh. “You didn’t actually need my help rescuing that cat, did you?” Carter admitted it easily. “I came back to grab a cat toy, but then I saw you crying.” When I didn’t say anything, Carter stayed quiet for a moment. “There’s so much insincerity in this world. People weighing the pros and cons, playing games, leading people on. Those people will get their karma eventually.” “But there is nothing wrong with being the one who loves deeply. There’s nothing wrong with giving your whole heart. You should never doubt the version of yourself that loved sincerely.” “It will all pass.” The rims of my eyes burned, and my emotions surged. “…You’re actually… pretty good at comforting people.” Carter chuckled softly. “It’s not like just anyone is worth me going out of my way to comfort them.” I didn’t quite catch that. “Huh?” “Nothing.” He turned and waved at me. “I’m going to sleep.” “Wait,” I called out to him. I ran to my bedroom to grab the first aid kit and pushed him back onto the couch. “Let’s put some medicine on that first.” When the kitten finally came out earlier, it had panicked and scratched the back of Carter’s neck. “You saw that?” Carter had tried to hide it, assuming I hadn’t noticed. “Lift your chin a bit.” I leaned over slightly, using a cotton swab to carefully apply the ointment. Carter obediently tilted his head back. He was only wearing a bathrobe, his hair still wet and dripping. The collar hung open slightly, exposing his collarbones and a glimpse of his firm chest. The shadows of the lamp fell over his eyes, making them look pitch black and glossy as he stared directly at me. “…Maybe you should turn your head back around.” Carter gave a small laugh. “Okay.” He turned his head, but the sudden movement threw off my balance. I stumbled, collapsing onto the couch with a heavy thud, falling right against his chest. Because he had his head turned, my lips… landed perfectly against his cheek. We both froze. Suddenly, there was a loud rattle at the front door lock. Liam stood in the doorway, his face horrific as he stared at us. “What the hell are you doing?!” 8 He stormed over, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me off the couch. “Chloe, do you really hate me this much? You’re sleeping with another man just to get back at me?” I ripped my hand away from his grip. “What right do you have to question me?” “As my brother? Or as someone else’s husband?” “Don’t make me sick.” Carter didn’t hold back either, cursing at him. “Are you gonna get the hell out, or what?” Liam looked utterly enraged, the veins on his forehead bulging. It took him a long time to choke out a hoarse sentence. “Chloe, I just came to bring you allergy medicine.” He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket. “Allergies?” Carter raised an eyebrow. “Minor issue.” I shrugged, not elaborating. Since it was only a smudge of frosting, the hives on my neck had faded quickly. Liam watched our interaction, his tone turning even colder. “Those letters—I didn’t give them to Emma. She snooped and found them herself.” “Marrying Emma was out of necessity. My dad’s company suddenly had a massive cash flow crisis. Emma is the daughter of a huge investor, and their only condition for the bailout was that I marry her.” “Just give me a little time. Once the company recovers, I’ll divorce her.” “We can go back to how things used to be…” He paused, then added: “A woman needs to respect herself. Just because you’re mad at me doesn’t mean you should find some random guy—” I directly grabbed Carter’s hand. “He’s not a random guy. He’s my boyfriend.” Carter seemed to stiffen for a microsecond, but he was quick on the uptake. He instantly squeezed my hand back. “We’re dating out in the open. Everything we do is completely appropriate and legal.” Liam’s face paled visibly. He took two steps forward, reaching out for me. “Boyfriend? How many days has it been since we last saw each other?” “Stop acting out. Come with me.” There was an unfamiliar panic and insecurity in his voice, realizing things were spinning out of his control. “You should go back and keep your new wife company.” “I, Chloe Bennett, will never be the other woman.” His face completely darkened. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to drop a warning: “Chloe, you’re going to regret this.” … After Liam left, I thanked Carter warmly for playing along. I also promised that I would cook dinner for him from now on. “From now on?” Carter looked at me for a moment and smiled. It took me a second to realize how that sounded. My face felt a little hot. “I mean, for the duration of the time you’re staying here, I’ll handle dinner.” Carter didn’t say anything, he just kept smiling at me. I awkwardly avoided his gaze. Right as I was about to go to sleep, Liam texted me from yet another new number: “I haven’t done anything with Emma these past few days.” “If that’s what’s bothering you, let me tell you right now, Chloe: from start to finish, I have only ever wanted you.” I replied with a single sentence: “I have a boyfriend. Do not harass me again.” Liam’s chat bubble showed he was typing for a long time before he finally sent one line: “Chloe, you loved me for eight years. You couldn’t possibly fall for another man this fast.” I blocked that number too. And Liam’s words were thrown back in his face almost immediately— Emma posted a picture of an ultrasound on her Instagram story. The caption read: “He wouldn’t let me tell a certain someone, but I just couldn’t wait to share the news. So I guess this story is for ‘Close Friends’ only!” Doing the math, the conception date was way before they even got their marriage license. Which meant, while he was dating me, he was already sleeping with Emma. My stomach violently churned. Any final, lingering trace of emotion I had for Liam vanished into nothingness in that exact moment. … But Liam refused to let me go. In fact, he wanted to ruin me in the most despicable, degrading way possible. When I walked into the office a few days later, I immediately felt something was wrong. My coworkers were pointing and whispering, looking at me with a mix of schadenfreude and disgust. “She’s the star of the video. Gotta admit, her body’s incredible.” “You really can’t tell just by looking at her. She acts so professional, but in bed she’s so…” My brain exploded with a deafening roar. I rushed to open my laptop. The usually dead-quiet company Slack channel was currently blowing up. Someone had uploaded a highly explicit, intimate video. The man’s face was blurred out with pixels, but the woman’s face was crystal clear— It was my face. I stood frozen in place, trapped in an unspeakable nightmare. Liam called me at that exact moment. “Chloe, are you at the office yet?” I gripped my phone, my voice trembling violently. “Was it you?” Liam didn’t admit it, but he didn’t deny it either. “When… when did you film that?” Liam’s voice was gentle, as if he were reminiscing. “You were drunk that night. So eager, so sweet. I couldn’t resist capturing the moment.” The suffocating bitterness in my chest erupted. I roared through gritted teeth, “What you did is revenge porn! It’s a federal crime! I’m calling the police, Liam. I will never let you get away with this.” Liam didn’t seem to believe me. “Chloe, do you really love this Carter guy?” Alarm bells shrieked in my head. A sudden, terrifying premonition hit me. “What are you trying to say?” “Tell me, if he sees this video, do you think he’ll still want to be with you?” … The sheer humiliation threatened to drown me. After calling the cops and taking an emergency leave of absence from my manager, I rushed home, enduring the burning stares of everyone in the office. Carter was in the living room. He was sitting on the couch, completely motionless, staring at the screen of his laptop. When I walked in, he slowly looked up, his eyes meeting mine.

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  • The Monster in the Mud: My Second Chance

    I once went out of my way to help a severely bullied boy who sat next to me in class. When others tormented him, I stood up for him. Because his family was poor, I brought him breakfast every single day. It lasted until the day he shyly confessed his feelings to me, cheered on by a crowd of our classmates. I rejected him. As a result, sometime later, I overheard him smoking in the school bathroom, boasting to his friends: “Chloe? Please, I played her a long time ago. She acts all pure and innocent, but she practically threw herself at me.” Because of those rumors, I fell from grace, transforming from the school’s golden girl into a total pariah. When my dad went to his house to demand an explanation, he was brutally hacked to death by the boy’s schizophrenic father. My mom couldn’t handle the sheer devastation. Not long after, she took her own life to follow him. Meanwhile, that boy reached his hand out to me from the mud. He smiled, a cruel, twisted expression on his face, and said: “Chloe, you used to be so high up in the clouds where I couldn’t reach you. Now look at you. You’re rotting down here in the mud with me.” I opened my eyes. I was back to the very first day that boy transferred to our high school. 1 First period, junior year. My homeroom teacher, Mr. Davis, led a boy with his head bowed low into the classroom. “Class, we have a special transfer student joining us today. I expect everyone to get along with him. There will be absolutely no discrimination in my classroom.” Everyone stared at the new kid with burning curiosity. But as he lifted his head, a collective gasp swept through the room. The entire right half of his face was severely burned. He had no eyebrow on that side, and his eye looked like a harsh slit violently carved into the melted skin. Instantly, whispers erupted from the desks around me: “Holy crap! That guy is hideous. There is literally not a single normal feature on that face.” “Just our luck. Out of all the junior homerooms, we get the absolute freak.” “Looking at his face just made me lose my appetite for lunch.” “So gross. How does he even have the nerve to walk outside looking like that?” As the whispers grew louder, the boy’s head sank lower and lower. His hands gripped his faded, worn-out jeans in a death grip. My desk-mate nudged me, whispering frantically: “How do you think he got those scars? You think his parents were tweaking and burned him by accident?” My mind violently snapped back to reality. Caleb! I had actually traveled back in time to Caleb’s very first day at our school. The exact place where my nightmare began. In my past life, Caleb had faced intense discrimination the moment he transferred. He was the oldest in the class—already 19—but he was shorter than most of the girls. Combined with his terrifying appearance, his personality became incredibly isolated and dark. Almost no one dared to speak to him. But my sense of justice had flared up. I stepped forward, actively inviting Caleb to be my desk-mate. I had even chewed out the students who mocked him. Right now, facing my friend’s question, I coldly blurted out: “Who knows? Maybe it’s karma.” Up front, Mr. Davis was already trying to find Caleb a seat. He told Caleb to pick an empty desk. But wherever Caleb walked, students physically recoiled as if he carried the plague, shrinking away like he was a monster. Finally, Caleb slowly shuffled to a stop right next to me. “C-Can I… can I sit next to you?” This time, I didn’t stand up and warmly invite him like I did in my past life. Instead, I stood up, looked directly at Mr. Davis, and said: “Mr. Davis, I don’t want to sit next to him. If he insists on this spot, I’m requesting to move my desk right next to the whiteboard at the front.” Mr. Davis looked incredibly embarrassed. Caleb stared at me, his eyes flashing with a strange, unreadable emotion. “Chloe, I just emphasized that there will be no discrimination against our new student. This kind of attitude damages our classroom environment.” I tuned it completely out. Since God gave me a second chance at life, I absolutely refused to show Caleb a single ounce of kindness. Suddenly, a girl sitting a few rows away sneered: “Some people act so high and mighty because they’re the Class President and get straight A’s, but they’re completely fake. The new kid just wants a seat. Do you really have to look at him with such obvious disgust?” I looked at the girl who spoke up. Harper. In my past life, she had competed against me for the Class President role, but I won the vote. She held a massive grudge ever since, always looking for a reason to drag me down. Later, when Caleb spread those vile rumors about me, she was the one who broadcasted them to the entire grade and gleefully reported me to the principal. She made sure everyone knew. Staring at her now, I scoffed: “Since you’re overflowing with so much sympathy, why don’t you let the new kid sit next to you?” Harper’s smug face froze. She immediately shut her mouth. I kept pushing: “What’s wrong? You were just acting like Mother Teresa defending him a second ago. Why are you backing down now? Or could it be that, deep down, you actually think he’s too hideous to look at?” I intentionally emphasized the word “hideous.” I could clearly feel Caleb trembling beside me. His head sank even further toward his chest. Agitated by my taunt, Harper snapped: “Chloe, do you have to be such a bitch? Mr. Davis, the new kid can sit with me. I’m not a shallow snob.” In the end, Caleb became Harper’s desk-mate. I watched as Harper visibly swallowed her revulsion while forcing a fake, careless smile to help Caleb clear his new desk. A long sigh of relief escaped my lips. I couldn’t stop Caleb from transferring into our class. But I could absolutely prevent any interaction with him. I would never let the tragedies of my past life happen again. Except, in this life, Caleb’s desk-mate was Harper. The person who stepped up to “save” him was Harper. Does that mean the horrors I endured in my past life would now fall onto her? 2 The morning classes flew by amidst a blur of gossip and whispers about the new kid. As soon as the bell rang, my best friend leaned over, unable to hold back: “That was so unlike you today! Why do I feel like you’re super hostile toward the new guy with the burned face? You’re usually the first one to stand up against bullies. I totally thought you were going to help him out.” My hand, which was zipping up my backpack, twitched. So that was the impression I gave everyone? A naive, sweet girl who loved playing the hero? Is that why Caleb targeted me when his confession was rejected in my past life? Did he think that in his twisted mind, I had no right to ever say no to him? “I read a quote online once. It said you should try to stay away from people with extreme physical defects, because more often than not, their minds are just as defective.” My friend looked at me, visibly shocked by how harsh that sounded. But I didn’t want to continue the conversation. Right now, all I wanted to do was find an excuse to go home and see my parents. In my past life, when Caleb spread those rumors, it became the biggest scandal in the entire school district. Because Caleb was classified as a disabled student, the administration, desperate to show how “inclusive” and “protective” they were, merely gave him a slap on the wrist. But they turned right around and accused me of promiscuous behavior. Without even launching a proper investigation, they expelled me. My dad was so furious he stormed over to Caleb’s house to demand justice, only to be hacked to death by Caleb’s violently schizophrenic father. My mom refused to accept the verdict and filed appeal after appeal in court, only to lose every single time. I still remember the night I slapped my own face repeatedly, sobbing and begging my mom for forgiveness: “Was it wrong to help someone? Why doesn’t being good get rewarded?” My mom had said: “Helping people isn’t inherently wrong, but the prerequisite is that you must ensure you are in an absolutely safe position first. While I hope you grow up to be a kind person, I selfishly wish you had never helped him at all. Then, your father would still be coming home to us.” After saying that, she resolutely jumped off the roof of our apartment building. Even now, I can perfectly recall the arrogant, sadistic smile on Caleb’s face. He told me that mentally ill people don’t go to prison for murder. His useless trash of a father was locked away in a psych ward, which meant my dad had actually done him a huge favor by getting rid of his biggest burden. He also told me that since my parents were dead, I was finally just like him. We had both fallen into the mud, and now we could be together forever. The story of the farmer and the viper had played out right in front of me. Because of my misplaced pity, my parents met horrific ends. Right now, all I wanted was to verify they were safe. That they were still alive and breathing in this world. I hadn’t even made it to the administration office to ask for a hall pass. As soon as I stepped into the corridor, I saw Caleb being shoved into the boys’ bathroom by a few of the class delinquents. I remembered this. In my past life, Caleb was targeted by these exact guys the second he arrived. Instead of pitying his appearance, they treated him like a freak of nature. They forced him to drink toilet water, humiliated him with slurs, and even took turns urinating on him. And I, overflowing with naive righteousness, had thrown myself in front of Caleb and reported those guys to the principal. From that moment on, he decided I was his “savior.” The only person who could pull him out of the abyss. Watching the exact same scenario unfold in this life, I stepped back, completely avoiding Caleb’s desperate, pleading eyes. I watched as his head was pinned to the bathroom tiles beneath a dirty sneaker. His face was smeared with grime and filthy water. Yet, he still stubbornly reached a hand out, trying to grab the hem of my jeans: “Help me…” I smoothly dodged his touch. Only one phrase echoed in my mind: Abandon the savior complex. Respect their fate. At that exact moment, Harper walked out of the classroom. I expected her to act like a saint and rush in to help. Instead, she pretended she didn’t see a single thing and scurried right back inside. I found that quite amusing. Caleb was currently being brutalized. His cheap clothes reeked of something foul, and his hair was plastered to his wet cheeks in greasy strips. I watched as Harper peeked her head back out, putting her hands over her mouth in an exaggerated display of shock. “Caleb, what happened to you? Are you okay? Did someone bully you? Tell me, I’ll go tell the teacher for you!” She put on a masterful show of sympathy. But Caleb kept his head down, saying absolutely nothing. He only occasionally glanced up, staring at me with a deeply calculating, brooding look. Alarm bells rang in my head. I hadn’t offered him a single shred of help in this life. Why the hell was he staring at me? Was he going to hold a grudge against me just for being a bystander? 3 Honestly, I wasn’t afraid of Caleb holding a grudge. Because deep in his bones, he was a coward who only preyed on the weak. He didn’t dare retaliate against the people who actually bullied and beat him; instead, he aligned himself with them. But the people who helped him, who cared for him? Those were the ones he relentlessly exploited, genuinely believing he was entitled to their sacrifices. In this life, I didn’t help him. I didn’t volunteer to be his desk-mate, and I didn’t intervene when he was assaulted. There were countless nights in my past life where I hated myself for my misplaced kindness, for my overflowing empathy that tore my family apart. I glared at him coldly: “What the hell are you looking at? Do I have a flower on my face? I wasn’t the one who beat you up.” Caleb resentfully withdrew his gaze, keeping his head down, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He pressed his lips together stubbornly, not saying a word. Right. This was exactly how he acted in my past life. Whenever something happened, he would just lower his head and stay silent, letting tears well up in his eyes. It was precisely this pathetic, kicked-puppy routine that made me step in to help him over and over again. Caleb’s behavior naturally drew roaring laughter from the guys surrounding him. They mocked him mercilessly: “A grown-ass guy crying like a bitch. Why don’t you just wear a skirt tomorrow? Oh wait, you’re so ugly, putting you in a skirt would probably make us puke up our lunch.” “Seriously, having this freak in our class literally brings down the average GPA of our entire grade just by existing.” One of the instigators leaned against my desk. It was Mason, the ringleader who had just bullied Caleb. In my past life, Mason had a crush on me, but I rejected him multiple times. Later, when he saw me getting close to Caleb, his jealousy morphed into disgust. He was the one who orchestrated the public event where the crowd pressured Caleb to confess to me, purely to humiliate me. This guy was absolute trash too. He saw me not answering and assumed I silently agreed. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered: “I heard his dad is practically brain-dead. They live on food stamps and government checks. If I force him to pay me protection money, do you think he and his crazy dad will just have to eat air? Hahaha.” I forcefully slammed a heavy textbook down right onto the fingers he had resting on my desk. He yanked his hand back in pain, glaring at me: “Are you psychotic? Trying to play the hero now?” Hearing this, Caleb, who had been staring at the floor, suddenly jerked his head up. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I sneered: “Extortion and blackmail. I suggest you look up the state penal code for how many years that carries. Oh wait, you’re a minor, so they won’t give you hard time. A few years in juvenile detention should do it.” Mason glared at me, furious. “So you are trying to stick your neck out for him?” “No,” I replied flatly. “I just wanted to tell you to stay the hell away from him. That guy is bad luck. He’ll drag you down.” As I walked out of the classroom, Caleb looked at me with an increasingly bizarre expression. 4 It wasn’t until after the final bell rang and I had walked out of the school gates. I heard a timid, cautious voice behind me. “Thanks for… standing up for me this afternoon.” I turned around and realized Caleb had been following me. I had no idea when he started trailing me, but I hadn’t noticed him at all. I immediately went on high alert, taking two large steps back. My eyes were filled with undisguised revulsion. I snapped viciously: “What do you want? Why are you following me?” He quickly waved his hands defensively. The burned half of his face twisted into an attempt at a reassuring smile, likely out of panic. But the smile only made him look absolutely terrifying: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t mean any harm. I walk home too. I just… wanted to say thank you. I know you’re not like the other kids who laugh at me. You’re a good person. You always have been.” He stammered through the sentence, looking at me with desperate expectation. It finally clicked in my head. Because Caleb’s family was destitute, he commuted to school every day. The school had approved him for a free meal program, so he only ate lunch on campus. He always walked home for dinner. But right now, looking at him only made me want to vomit: “Say thank you? You’re delusional. I never had any intention of helping you. To be brutally honest, you make me sick. It’s not your appearance, it’s your core. You radiate a foul, rotting stench. Caleb, you better stay far away from me, or I won’t mind joining them in treating you like garbage.” I didn’t actually want to cross the line from victim to abuser. But if becoming the abuser was the only way to make Caleb stay away from me and keep my family safe from his disaster… Then I was more than willing to do it. My morals and my sense of justice were built strictly on the foundation that my family and I were safe. Caleb stood frozen in place, his brows furrowed deeply. He seemed entirely incapable of understanding why I would say such vicious things to him. As I walked away, I heard him muttering to himself. “That’s not right… that’s not how she’s supposed to treat me… I’m so pitiful, she should be even more sympathetic…” Hearing those words… It felt like a venomous snake was slowly slithering up the back of my calf. A freezing chill swept through my entire body. 5 When I got home, I saw my parents, healthy and alive. I couldn’t stop the tears of pure relief from falling. Thank God. It wasn’t too late. In this life, I still had time to protect my family. Because of what Caleb muttered, I couldn’t help but be hyper-vigilant. I wasn’t afraid of much, but I was terrified of one possibility: what if Caleb was also reborn? If he was, then everything I was doing to avoid him might be useless. So, I decided to inoculate my parents early. I told them that I was dealing with some very bad elements at school. People who were actively trying to ruin my reputation. I told them about the things that hadn’t happened yet, but framed them as current threats. I heavily emphasized that going to this boy’s parents would be utterly useless. Because his father was severely schizophrenic. Against a family like that, we were completely powerless. And I didn’t want this drama ruining my SAT prep or my college applications. Finally, I tentatively suggested transferring schools. Initially, my parents were totally against it. But after hearing me lay out the stakes and the potential threat to my future, my dad just let out a heavy sigh. “We really can’t afford to get tangled up with people like that. Sometimes, the most pitiful people are also the most detestable. You’re right, Chloe. Our only option is to avoid them. We’ll transfer. I won’t let this ruin your chances at college.” 6 Transferring high schools took time. My dad had to pull strings and call in favors to get me a spot at a top-tier magnet school across town. When I went back to school in the meantime, I completely cut off any and all interaction with Caleb. Anywhere he walked, I automatically steered clear. I didn’t exchange a single syllable with him. Very quickly, the entire junior class knew that I despised Caleb. That just breathing the same air as him made me physically uncomfortable. At first, Caleb’s life was miserable. His appearance, his terrible grades—he was at the absolute bottom of the social hierarchy. But once Harper—my eternal rival—realized how much I openly targeted him, she went into overdrive showing him aggressive kindness. She bought him lunch. She tutored him. Everything I had done for Caleb in my past life, Harper was doing now. Except, her kindness was completely fake. She just wanted to prove that she was a better, kinder, more compassionate person than me. She used him to highlight my “cruelty.” Gradually, I noticed Caleb’s gaze shifting. He stopped staring at me, and his eyes started lingering on Harper. I don’t know exactly when it started. But suddenly, Caleb became tight-knit with Mason, his former bully. The two of them were always seen throwing their arms around each other’s shoulders in the hallways. Someone told me the secret. Caleb had apparently offered Mason a hefty chunk of change as “tribute.” He bought Mason’s lunches, bought his cigarettes, and officially became his lackey. Caleb grew his hair out long, long enough to completely cover the burned half of his face, making him look like some edgy, delinquent outcast. They spent their time loitering in the corridors, using predatory glares to look up girls’ skirts. They bullied the smaller, weaker boys. They ruthlessly mocked girls who weren’t conventionally attractive. If Caleb was the victim before, he had now successfully evolved into the abuser. And because of his severe facial disfigurement, the principal just turned a blind eye to it all. I had a bad feeling about how this was escalating. But my dad gave me the best news possible. My transfer was approved. Through his connections, I got a spot at the city’s premier magnet school. I would be officially unenrolled here by the end of next week. I let out a massive sigh of relief. The heavy stone that had been crushing my chest finally dropped. At the same time, I decided to set my plan into motion. Running away was a passive defense. Before I left, I needed to teach Caleb a lesson. I planned to leave him a grand parting gift. If he behaved himself in this life, the gift would be a harmless prank. But if he acted exactly like he did in my past life… Then this time, I would ensure he was the one permanently expelled. And the perfect opportunity to execute this plan arrived very quickly. On Friday, the school was hosting its annual Spring Track and Field meet. To celebrate, the administration was letting us out early for a long weekend. And in my past life, the afternoon of this exact Track Meet was when Caleb publicly confessed to me. 7 Based on my observations over the last few weeks, Caleb didn’t seem to harbor any feelings for me anymore. After all, the person pulling him out of the mud now was Harper. Even though I despised Harper… I knew what it was like to be caught in the rain. I wasn’t going to tear up someone else’s umbrella just because I was bitter. During the free activity period on the afternoon of the Track Meet. A guy ran up to Harper: “Harper, someone wants to meet you in the woods behind the bleachers. It’s a really hot guy.” The guy’s smile was sleazy and suggestive. Every high school has that spot in the woods. Everyone knows it’s where couples go to hook up. In my past life, this guy had delivered that exact message to me. In this life, the target had predictably shifted to Harper. Harper tilted her chin up, looking haughty: “Who wants to meet me? If you don’t give me a name, I’m not going.” Even though she said that, she was already smoothing out her clothes, clearly preparing to go. I subtly stuck my foot out and tripped her. Harper ate dirt. She scrambled up, absolutely furious: “Chloe, are you psychotic?! What did I ever do to you?” I stared at her coldly: “You better not go. Aren’t you afraid the principal will catch you in the act out there?” Harper’s angry face suddenly smoothed out. She gave me a weird, mocking smile: “You’re just jealous because you heard a hot guy wants to confess to me, aren’t you? Makes sense. People used to confess to you all the time, but who told you to act like such a stuck-up bitch? Your reputation is garbage now. No guy in his right mind wants anything to do with you.” I physically cringed. Was this girl actually incapable of recognizing a warning? “If you try to stop me, I’m going to go even harder. If you have a problem with it, go tell the principal! I have nothing to hide!” With that, Harper ignored the warnings of the girls around her and marched straight toward the woods to meet her “admirer.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to meddle in her business. But today was the critical nexus point of my past life. If I wanted to trap Caleb, I had to make an appearance. After thinking for a second, I whispered a few instructions to the girls I usually hung out with. I shoved a battery-powered megaphone into my backpack. And I followed Harper.

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  • The Ultimate Checkmate: Marrying My Ex’s Billionaire Rival

    Three years ago, he mocked me right in front of his friends: “She’s too obsessed with love. I’m just playing around with her.” I was devastated. Walking home in a daze, I missed a step, tumbled down a flight of concrete stairs, and shattered my leg. Years later, I handed out my wedding invitations at a college alumni dinner. “I’m getting married,” I said with a smile. “I’d love for you all to come.” When the invitation reached him, he casually brushed it aside with a cold sneer. “Who gave you the nerve to marry someone else?” What he didn’t know was that the groom on that invitation was sitting directly across from him. Watching the entire scene with absolute, unnerving calm. 1 “I never expected Clara Hayes to be the first one of us to tie the knot.” “She was always so quiet and obedient. She got dumped pretty hard, so finding someone willing to marry her is good enough.” I clutched the gold-embossed invitations in my hands, completely ignoring the toxic whispers around the table. “I’m getting married next month. You’re all welcome to celebrate with us.” From start to finish, a dark, freezing gaze locked onto my face. He didn’t move an inch. I knew he would be here. Tristan Vance. My first love. And now, the ruthless rising star of the Manhattan elite. I slid the heavy ivory envelope across the table toward him, summoning every ounce of courage to meet his eyes. “Tristan, I hope you can make it.” Tristan sat in silence. He didn’t utter a single word. The entire table held their breath, their eyes darting silently between the two of us. After all, our breakup three years ago was a legendary disaster. He had publicly mocked me for being a pathetic, desperate puppy dog. The humiliation left me in such a daze that I tripped down a flight of stairs on my way home, shattering my knee. I had to leave the state just to get multiple surgeries and intensive physical therapy. Sitting next to him, Lindsey Cole broke the silence with a sweet, piercing smile: “Chloe, is your leg all better now?” I hesitated for a second, downplaying the trauma: “It still aches when it rains…” In reality, it was much worse. The joint damage was permanent. Lindsey possessively hooked her arm through Tristan’s, smiling apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I want to apologize on Tristan’s behalf.” “On… his behalf?” My grip on the stack of invitations tightened. “Did no one tell you? Tristan and I are getting married,” Lindsey said, covering her mouth with a delicate giggle. “I guess I’m just lucky.” I stood there holding my invitations, completely stunned. Lindsey. She was my best friend. Back in college, no one was closer to me than her. How could she… “Alright, alright… that’s all in the past! Come on Clara, hand out the rest of the invites!” Someone desperately tried to smooth things over. Suddenly, Tristan raised his hand, slapped the invitation away, and let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Who gave you the nerve to marry someone else?” The moment those words left his mouth, the room fell dead silent. Even Lindsey’s smug smile vanished. My mind went completely blank. “Why shouldn’t I get married?” For three years, I had carried the weight of his humiliation and the mockery of our peers. Wasn’t that enough? Tristan offered a dark, twisted smile. “Even a dog I throw away isn’t allowed to find a new master. You think you can?” “Tristan.” A faint, chilling voice echoed from the head of the table. In the dead silence of the room, it was exceptionally clear. Sebastian Sterling slowly lifted his gaze, his tone as light as a passing breeze. “That’s enough.” Two words. Absolute finality. No one dared to breathe, let alone contradict him. After all, this man was in a league far beyond Tristan Vance. Back in university, he was the untouchable, ice-cold god of the campus. In the years since graduation, he had become a phantom billionaire, only seen on the covers of Forbes and Wall Street Journal. Tristan, who had a decent business relationship with Sebastian, didn’t push it. Instead, he snatched my invitation off the table and ripped it open. He glanced at the elegant cursive inside and let out a highly amused laugh. “Sebastian, what a coincidence. Her fiancé’s last name is Sterling, too. I’d love to meet this guy. What kind of saint is he?” The groom’s name on the invitation read: Bastian Sterling. “Is that so?” Sebastian took a slow sip of his red wine, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips. “That is, indeed, quite a coincidence.” 2 Sebastian didn’t stay long; an urgent phone call pulled him away. As a man who managed a global empire, attending a trivial alumni dinner was already highly unusual for him. I quickly made up an excuse to slip out as well. By the time I rushed out the front doors, panting, a chauffeur had already opened the door to a sleek, black Rolls-Royce. “Mr. Sterling!” I called out, out of breath. Sebastian paused and looked back. Under the pale glow of the streetlights, his sharp, chiseled profile looked even more unapproachable and cold. “Thank you… for tonight.” “No need.” Sebastian spoke calmly. “We are getting married. You can make it public now.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the words. The day I moved back to the city, I had absolutely no one. I was dragging my suitcase down the street when I randomly ran into Sebastian’s car. “Did you come back to see Tristan?” That was the very first thing he said to me. “He’s getting married,” he added. “With his controlling nature, you’ll find it very hard to survive in this city.” Then, Sebastian casually tossed out an olive branch. “I’m in need of a fiancée to get my family off my back. Think about it.” Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I agreed. Honestly, I didn’t understand what someone like him could possibly want from me. I didn’t dare use his powerful name to show off. I just wanted to keep my head down and live a quiet life. “Bastian Sterling” was his birth name, the one recorded on his secretive family registry. Very few people knew it. “I’m sorry… for causing you trouble tonight.” Sebastian stared at me quietly for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something else. Eventually, he just said, “Text me when you get home.” 3 When I turned back inside to grab my coat, some old classmates dragged me into conversation. By 8:00 PM, a torrential downpour suddenly hit the city. Stranded by the storm, a bunch of us were forced to book rooms at the hotel. Finished? Sebastian texted me. Three short words, perfectly matching his efficient, no-nonsense personality. I’m staying at the hotel tonight because of the rain. A long time passed before he replied: Send me your room number. Go to sleep. I sent the message and curled up under the covers. Whether by accident or malicious design, Tristan and Lindsey’s room was right next to mine. The hotel’s soundproofing was terrible. Lindsey’s high-pitched giggles pierced right through the drywall. It was piercingly annoying. As if terrified I wouldn’t hear her, she practically yelled, “Tristan, next time for my birthday, let’s book the room right next door—” “Shut up. It’s noisy.” Tristan’s voice was low, raspy, and carried a heavy trace of exhaustion. I froze. It suddenly reminded me of my first year dating Tristan. He threw a birthday party for me. But after midnight, he completely vanished. Lindsey was unreachable, too. A physical wave of nausea washed over me. My eyes stung. Honestly, I couldn’t even say how much I actually loved Tristan anymore. I had just poured the best years of my youth into him, only to be reduced to a humiliating punchline. The noises from next door escalated. Lindsey’s voice grew louder, dripping with intentional provocation. In the middle of this suffocating atmosphere, my hotel door suddenly clicked open with a keycard. A tall, imposing silhouette was stretched long by the hallway lights. A rush of cold, rain-scented air swept into the room. My eyes were still wet. I stared blankly at the man standing in the doorway. “Mr. Sterling? Why are you here?” Sebastian glanced around the room. “The security at this hotel is subpar. I was worried.” I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but he seemed to be in a terrible mood tonight. He radiated an icy, unapproachable aura. The noises from next door abruptly stopped. Sebastian looked down at me. “Is it unbearable?” “Huh?” “I can have them move you to a different room.” I quickly waved my hands. “It’s getting late. You have to work tomorrow, you should really go home and rest—” As the words left my mouth, I realized something horrifying. I was in a single-bed room. And the way I had just thrown back the covers… it looked exactly like I was inviting him into my bed. The atmosphere instantly turned painfully awkward. Sebastian’s gaze swept over my bare legs before he looked away and pulled out his phone to call his secretary. “Book another room—” Suddenly, Lindsey’s theatrical moans from next door roared back to life. Louder and more aggressive than before. An inexplicable surge of anger flared in my chest. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed the hem of Sebastian’s tailored shirt, whispering, “It’s fine… just sleep here.” The moment the words left my mouth, Sebastian’s gaze turned dangerously intense. There was even a faint, predatory gleam in his eyes. My face flushed crimson instantly. Was I being too forward? “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean—” “Okay.” Sebastian calmly hung up his phone. “Do you want to shower first?” BANG! A massive crash echoed from the room next door. Followed by a shocked gasp from Lindsey. At the exact same moment, my phone started vibrating furiously on the nightstand. It was Tristan’s number. I didn’t answer it. Seconds later, a text message lit up my lock screen. Clara, you have three minutes to come out here. Sebastian pressed his lips together, a frigid, lifeless smile forming on his face. “He sure is a busy guy.” Before I could say anything, Sebastian abruptly stood up, unclasped his luxury watch, and unbuttoned his collar. I froze, stammering, “W-What are you doing…?” Within seconds, I was overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of cold pine. “Ms. Hayes, since you invited me first, it would be rude of me to decline.” My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my throat. We were so close. So close I could count his eyelashes. “Will you make a sound?” he asked softly. “What?” my voice was barely a squeak. Sebastian smiled faintly. “Your voice is much prettier than hers.” I suddenly understood what he was doing. “Ah—!” My stiff, awkward sound made Sebastian chuckle low in his chest. It sounded like a reward. As if telling me I was doing a great job. Suddenly, Tristan’s muffled voice roared from the other side of the wall. Suppressing a dark, violent rage. “Clara. Answer the damn phone.” Sebastian smirked lazily, picked up my ringing phone, and answered it. His tone was perfectly flat. “She’s in the shower.” A silence stretching for an entire century followed. Tristan finally asked in a chilling whisper: “Bastian Sterling?” “Correct.” Tristan let out a dark sneer. “If you have a death wish, I’d be more than happy to arrange a funeral for you.” Sebastian gently brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, letting out a soft, mocking laugh. “Big talk. Let’s just hope your ability to act matches the speed at which you surrendered tonight.” 4 The sound of something heavy smashing against the drywall echoed from next door. Then, dead silence returned. I belatedly realized what I had just done. I scrambled backward, desperately putting distance between us. “I’m sleepy. I’m going to bed…” I rolled over to the far edge of the mattress, leaving plenty of space for him. The highly charged, intimate atmosphere evaporated instantly. Sebastian stared at the spot on the bed that was still warm from my body, his thoughts unreadable. The room fell silent, save for the steady rhythm of the rain against the windowpane. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart still racing like crazy. Suddenly, the memory of the very first time I saw Sebastian flashed in my mind. Back then, I was still desperately chasing Tristan. At the university’s arts gala, I went on stage and performed a breathtaking classical dance. Sebastian had been dragged there by Tristan. He sat in the very front row. But his eyes never once looked at me from start to finish. He was a man completely devoid of warmth. Ice cold to the core. After that, trailing behind Tristan, I saw him a few more times, but the number of words we exchanged could be counted on one hand. I never in a million years imagined that one day, we would be lying in the same bed. I let out a soft sigh. “Can’t sleep?” Sebastian asked. My thoughts snapped back. I opened my eyes. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, bathed in the dim glow of the nightlight. His profile was sharp and cold. Exactly like the very first time I saw him. I clutched the blanket tightly. “Mr. Sterling, why did you choose me?” “Why couldn’t I choose you?” He lowered his eyes, looking at me with those pale, fathomless irises. “To me, anyone is the same. But an acquaintance is more convenient.” “Oh…” I scratched my head. “It just feels… life is really unpredictable.” Sebastian’s lips quirked up slightly. “You didn’t predict we’d get married?” “Yeah.” He stared at me for a long moment. “Clara, I never do anything unexpected.” I froze. Before I could even process what that meant, Sebastian’s phone rang. It was his executive secretary. “Mr. Sterling, the CEO of Vanguard Corp just flew in. Should we move the video conference to right now?” Sebastian checked the time. It was exactly 1:00 AM. “Fine. Come pick me up. And…” He glanced over at me. “Bring an electric heating pad.” My heart skipped a beat. How did he know my knee ached when it rained? “Mr. Sterling, you don’t have to do that for me…” “It’s no trouble.” Sebastian pulled the blanket up to my shoulders. “I’ll have my driver pick you up tomorrow. Try to avoid running into Tristan.” “You really don’t have to…” I quickly declined. “I can get an Uber. I don’t want to hold up your work.” The secretary’s car arrived quickly. It was clear his business was urgent. Sebastian hesitated for a second, then didn’t argue. “If you feel unsafe, call me.” “Okay.” He left. A hotel robot delivered the heating pad shortly after. The rain pattered against the window until dawn. I didn’t sleep well and was up before 6:00 AM. It was overcast today. I gritted my teeth, stretched my dull, aching knee, got dressed, and headed out for my scheduled hospital checkup. Who knew that while waiting for the elevator, a shadow would suddenly appear behind me. The distinct smell of tobacco mixed with mint leaves. Even with my eyes closed, I knew exactly who it was. We stood in a tense standoff, neither of us speaking. “Slept with him?” Tristan’s sudden, mocking question dripped with venom. I crossed my arms, staring straight ahead at the glowing numbers above the elevator doors, and said softly, “Yeah. His stamina is way better than yours.” “Do you know who owns this hotel?” Tristan suddenly grabbed my arm, violently forcing me to look at him. “Sebastian Sterling.” “You think it’s hard for me to have him look into someone’s background?” “Within three days, I’ll have ‘Bastian Sterling’ stripped down to his bones with nothing left.” “Clara, if I destroy your precious fiancé, are you going to cry about it?” I glared at him. “You’re the one who played with my feelings. Was I wrong to leave?” Tristan offered a sneering, contemptuous smile. “Clara, do you really think you have the moral high ground here? You took my family’s money. Why don’t you mention that?” I froze. “What money?” “Twenty thousand dollars. Wired directly into your bank account. Do I really have to throw the bank statements in your face to make you admit it?” Twenty thousand dollars? In my memory, the only time I ever received exactly $20,000 was my graduation scholarship. I said seriously, “That twenty thousand was the Outstanding Graduate Scholarship Lindsey helped me apply for.” Tristan looked at me with pure disgust. “Clara, do you know why I can’t stand you?” He let go of my arm and stepped into the open elevator. “You’re a pathological liar, and you never feel an ounce of remorse.” The elevator doors slid shut. Leaving me standing there in an absolute daze. Right before graduation, Lindsey had run up to me excitedly: “Clara, I submitted your name for the Outstanding Graduate Scholarship! The school is totally going to give it to you!” We shared a dorm for four years. Our personal information was frequently on the same spreadsheets. Submitting paperwork for each other was completely normal. Half a month later, Lindsey told me: “The scholarship money was wired directly into your bank account!” It was exactly twenty thousand dollars. Later, I had the accident and never even thought to check the official recipient list on the school’s website. With trembling hands, I sent a text to Lindsey. “The scholarship you applied for me back then… was it really from the university?” Lindsey replied almost instantly. “Clara, what are you talking about? When did I ever apply for a scholarship for you?” … 5 “Ms. Hayes, I’m very sorry, but given your current condition, I’m afraid you’ll never be able to dance professionally again.” I don’t know how many times I had heard doctors say those exact words. When I walked out of the hospital, a light drizzle had started falling. A message popped up from a college classmate: “She told you that to your face, so there’s no chat history or paper trail. You should understand what that means.” “Yeah, I know. I have no grounds to sue her.” I stood in the rain holding an umbrella, letting out a soft, shaky sigh. The suffocating injustice I had carried in my heart for years couldn’t even ignite. It just turned to cold ash. A sleek black Rolls-Royce cut silently through the rain and parked right in front of me. The tinted window rolled down, revealing Sebastian’s face. The misty rain slightly blurred our view of each other. I heard him say calmly, “Clara, get in.” I never expected him to personally come pick me up. He was a wildly busy man; even in the car, he was reviewing documents on a tablet. “What did the doctor say?” he asked without looking up. “Oh.” I forced a bright, casual tone. “It’s fine. Recovering nicely.” Sebastian merely glanced at me and asked, “What’s wrong?” He saw right through me. The fake smile froze on my face for a second. I forced my lips to curve again. “Oh, nothing.” I quickly looked down, terrified he would see my red, watery eyes. “Clara.” Sebastian put down his tablet. “Look me in the eyes and say that.” I sat in silence for a long time. The anger and profound betrayal I had suppressed for years suddenly shattered my composure. “Mr. Sterling, I… I can never dance again…” I smiled, my face stiff and agonizing. “They all thought I took the Vance family’s payoff money, but the truth is Lindsey scammed me.” “And I only just found out today.” “If we had just broken up normally… maybe that accident could have been avoided.” “I could still be dancing—” Sebastian stared at my agonizingly forced smile, his gaze growing darker and colder by the second. “Clara. You got played like a fool. Does smiling about it make you happy?” The words caught in my throat. After a long pause, I lowered my head, and the tears I fought so hard to hold back finally fell. “I’m sorry.” “You have nothing to apologize for,” Sebastian said after a heavy silence. “It’s their fault.” Raindrops hit the car window, sending ripples across the glass. Lingering for a long time. Suddenly, I felt like today wasn’t a total disaster. At least one person believed me. Sebastian dropped me off at my apartment building. Before he left, he said, “Don’t worry about your leg. I’ll find you the best specialists.” “Thank you—” Sebastian’s expression remained neutral. “No need.” After the car drove away, I got a call from an old college friend saying she was in the area and wanted to drop off some souvenirs. I walked back to the entrance of the complex. Not long after, I saw her hop out of a taxi and run over. “Hey, did you know? Because of what happened with you and Tristan a few days ago, the alumni group chat is absolutely exploding!” She started gossiping the second she saw me. “What?” “They’re taking bets. They say within half a month, you and Tristan will get back together.” “Are you joking?” “Someone saw him getting into a massive fight with Lindsey. It was definitely about you. Are you really not planning to meet up with Tristan?” Actually, I did need to meet him. I needed to wire that money right back into his account. And the dirty water he poured on me? I was going to throw it right back in his face. Facing her teasing look, I said, “I’ll talk to him. There are some… misunderstandings between us.” My friend beamed. “Exactly! Just clear the air and everything will be fine.” I forced a smile. I turned my head and saw the black Rolls-Royce parked a short distance away. It was Sebastian. He hadn’t left? Holding my umbrella, I called out, “Mr. Sterl—” The car suddenly accelerated, driving off into the distance. My friend leaned in curiously. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing… he probably just didn’t hear me…” Over the next few days, adjusting to a new project at work kept me insanely busy. As fate would have it, my boss assigned me as the lead product developer for a massive contract with Sebastian’s tech conglomerate. After a grueling pitch meeting at his headquarters, I bumped into Sebastian coming out of the executive boardroom. Just as I was about to say hello, his gaze brushed right past me without stopping. Instead, his secretary nodded at me politely. “Ms. Hayes, Mr. Sterling asks that you wait for a moment.” “Oh… okay.” I watched his broad back walk away, feeling a sudden, inexplicable tightness in my chest. That evening, his secretary walked into the lounge. “There’s a high-society banquet tonight. Mr. Sterling asks if you would be willing to attend? If you’re too tired, I can have a driver take you home.” “It’s fine, I can go.” 6 By the time I arrived, the banquet was already in full swing. The very first person I spotted was Sebastian. He was far too striking to miss. Just standing there, he was the absolute center of attention. Almost simultaneously, his gaze found mine. Across the crowded, bustling ballroom, our eyes met and lingered. I was wearing a breathtaking gown. It was a soft champagne gold, intricately designed around the collarbone, with a neckline slightly deeper than I usually wore. It hugged my curves perfectly. A sapphire pendant rested in the hollow of my throat. Shimmering under the chandeliers. Sebastian stared at me, unmoving. It wasn’t until a prominent CEO spoke to him that he withdrew his gaze and walked away, surrounded by a crowd of elites. I was just about to walk over to him when his secretary stopped me. He hesitated for a long time before saying, “Ms. Hayes, about your plan to get back together with Mr. Vance… Mr. Sterling overheard you talking about it the other day. Although it’s your private life… if there are misunderstandings, it’s best to clear them up sooner rather than later.” Without waiting for my response, he hurried off to catch up with Sebastian. I stood frozen in place. When I noticed the massive banner at the entrance bearing the name “Vance Corporation,” it finally clicked. This was Tristan’s turf. Sebastian had intentionally brought me here to give me an opportunity to meet with Tristan. Realizing he had completely misunderstood me, I lifted the hem of my gown, desperate to chase after him and explain. Suddenly, someone blocked my path. “Good evening, miss.” The man speaking was a chubby, middle-aged man with a greasy smile. “I’m Sebastian Sterling’s uncle. I assume you’ve heard of Sebastian?” So this was a senior member of the Sterling family. I nodded politely. “Hello.” He swirled his champagne glass. “You are incredibly beautiful. Do you have a boyfriend?” Realizing his intentions were anything but pure, I quickly took a step back, putting distance between us. “I apologize, sir. I have urgent business. Excuse me.” Before he could say another word, I quickly walked away. As I rounded a corner, someone blocked me again. “Clara.” Lindsey seemed to appear out of nowhere, asking with a probing, malicious smirk, “Was that your… fiancé earlier?” “No.” “No wonder his last name is Sterling,” she muttered to herself, acting as if she had just caught me in a massive scandal. “That’s Sebastian Sterling’s uncle. Everyone knows he keeps mistresses all over the city. I just didn’t expect you to be his new mistress.” Her voice was incredibly loud, instantly drawing the curiosity of the surrounding guests. People began pointing and whispering about me. I stared at her icily. “Are you done talking?” Lindsey intimately linked her arm through mine, her nails digging in. “What? Mad that I exposed you and ruined your reputation?” “When you were desperately chasing Tristan for two years, I was sleeping with him every single night.” “…He only dated you because I told him sneaking around behind your back was thrilling. You were the real third wheel all along…” “I guess being a mistress is just second nature to you now.” The rage I had suppressed for days finally erupted. Meeting her gleeful, triumphant eyes, I picked up a glass of ice water from a passing waiter’s tray and poured it directly over her head. I dropped the glass. It shattered against the marble floor with a sharp CRASH. The entire ballroom went dead silent. After a brief second of shock, Lindsey let out a piercing, hysterical scream. “Clara, what the hell are you doing?!” “Are you calm now?” I stared her down. “There’s not enough water in that glass to wash away your filth. You didn’t need to introduce yourself as trash to the whole room.” “You bitch—!” Suddenly, someone violently grabbed my arm and hurled me backward against the buffet table. Plates, glasses, and silverware crashed to the floor in a chaotic mess. A jagged shard of porcelain sliced deep into my ankle. Blood instantly welled up. I gasped in pain, frowning as I looked up to see Tristan Vance looming over me. “Clara, are you out of your fucking mind?!” Tristan’s voice was dark and lethal. “You dare cause a scene at my family’s event?” Without a second thought, I pulled a bank card from my clutch and threw it violently right at his face. “Shut the hell up.” “Treating a pathetic twenty grand like it’s a holy relic. You should be embarrassed. If I had known that money was stolen from your mother by Lindsey, I would have thrown up touching it.” Lindsey burst into theatrical tears. “You’re just a dirty mistress, what gives you the right to act so arrogant?!” “What mistress?” Tristan asked, confused. “Her so-called fiancé! It’s Sebastian’s sleazy uncle!” Tristan’s gaze swept over me, his expression complex and dark. I pulled out my phone and sneered. “If you have something to say, say it loud and clear for the camera. We’ll settle this in court.” Lindsey panicked, shrinking timidly behind Tristan’s back. “Enough.” Tristan scoffed, adopting an arrogant, dismissive posture. “Clara, you truly disgust me.” “Who disgusts you?” A faint, chilling voice drifted from the edge of the crowd. The guests automatically parted, creating a wide path. Sebastian had returned. I stood there looking like a battered mess, glaring at him. I knew causing a scene like this would make Sebastian lose face tonight. Sebastian walked straight up to me, lowered his eyes, and asked softly, “Where are you hurt?” “I’m—” I suddenly remembered his secretary’s words. I shifted my tone, putting on a pitiful, agonizing voice. “My ankle… it’s cut. It hurts…” “Who did it?” “Him.” I pointed directly at Tristan. Tristan let out a contemptuous sneer. “You really just hook up with anyone you can find. Wait until I destroy your precious fiancé. We’ll see if you’re still smiling then.” Sebastian maintained a calm, unhurried pace as he walked toward Tristan. Passing the buffet table, he casually grabbed an open bottle of vintage red wine. Tristan, assuming Sebastian was going to help him since Sebastian famously despised his uncle, laughed out loud. “Perfect timing. I know you hate your uncle too, help me—” His arrogant barking was abruptly cut off. Thick, dark red liquid poured relentlessly over Tristan’s styled hair, dripping down his face. It completely soaked his expensive, custom-tailored white shirt. And the source was the bottle in Sebastian’s hand. He stood with one hand in his pocket, using the exact same method I had used just moments ago, emptying the entire bottle over Tristan’s head. The entire ballroom was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “Sebastian.” Tristan’s voice cracked in shock and fury. “Are you off your meds?!” Sebastian casually tossed the empty bottle aside. He reached out, grabbed Tristan’s expensive silk tie, and methodically used it to wipe the wine off his own hands. His tone was dripping with absolute, aristocratic arrogance. “My apologies, I didn’t quite catch that. Are you sure… you want to destroy me?” … One sentence. It hit the room like a bomb. For the very first time, I saw absolute, unadulterated shock on Tristan’s face. Lindsey broke away from Tristan’s side, desperately trying to salvage the situation. “Mr. Sterling, I saw it with my own eyes earlier, she was hitting on—” “Ms. Cole. Are you intentionally spreading malicious rumors about my fiancée?” Lindsey’s lips trembled. She finally understood the relationship between us. “N-No, that’s not…” Sebastian placed a firm, protective hand on the small of my back, preparing to escort me out. Tristan finally snapped back to reality, yelling to stop us. “Sebastian, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?!” “An explanation?” Sebastian lazily curled his lips into a cold, mocking smile. “My wife made it perfectly clear just a moment ago. You’re blind. She was injured because of you. I haven’t even demanded an explanation from you yet, and you have the audacity to demand one from me?” Tristan choked on his words. “Don’t let her fool you! I dated her, I know exactly what kind of woman she—” “Enough. My private matters are not up for your evaluation.” Tristan was losing his mind. “Why the fuck are you turning against me for her?!” He grabbed his ruined, wine-soaked shirt. “We grew up together! You’re taking an outsider’s side over mine? Where is your logic?!” Sebastian gave him a long, dark look, and dropped a final, icy sentence: “Then sue me.” And with that, he led me out of the ballroom.

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