I’ve had severe eye problems since childhood. I couldn’t even see people’s faces clearly. My husband Ethan Bennett, an ophthalmologist, worked himself until his hair turned white trying to formulate special medication for me. Everyone envied me for finding such a good man, saying he was my salvation. Until his birthday party, when I returned from the restroom and overheard him talking to the people around him. “You think I actually want to cure her?” “That little eye problem of hers is nothing serious at all. Any random medication could relieve it.” “I just want to keep her from seeing clearly, make her dependent on me, make it so she can’t live without me.” The people around him burst into laughter. Someone teased him. “Dr. Bennett, that’s pretty ruthless. But I have to say, she’s really obedient—like a dog.” My blood seemed to freeze instantly. All these years, because I couldn’t see clearly, I kept tripping while walking and being laughed at by strangers. Because I couldn’t see clearly, I couldn’t find work and could only depend on him to survive. Because I couldn’t see clearly, I missed out on so much, and couldn’t even remember what I looked like. I thought it was fate being cruel to me. But I never imagined that all of this was personally orchestrated by the man I loved so deeply. I didn’t go back into the private room. I turned around and sent an email. “Professor Lewis, book me a plane ticket. I agree to go to France for the experimental eye treatment.”

I gripped my phone and turned to fumble my way out. But the next second, someone called out from behind me. It was Ethan. “Where are you going? The guests are still waiting for you. How can you just leave without telling me?” I couldn’t see his face clearly. I could only identify the direction by his familiar voice. My whole body trembled uncontrollably. “I… I’m not feeling well. I want to go home first.” “Not feeling well?” Ethan’s tone instantly turned cold. “Today is my birthday. As my wife, how can you leave without permission? Come inside with me and greet the senior colleagues.” I instinctively shrank back, resisting strongly. I couldn’t see the wine glasses clearly, couldn’t see the faces of the people across from me, and was terrified of dropping the glass and embarrassing myself, being laughed at, being despised by him. Over all these years, I’d embarrassed myself enough because of my eye condition. I begged in a low voice, my tone carrying a sob. “I can’t do it. I can’t see clearly. I’ll mess it up. Please don’t force me…” These words seemed to completely ignite his anger. Curious glances from nearby guests were already being cast our way, and whispers could faintly be heard. Ethan felt like I was trampling his dignity underfoot. His grip on my wrist suddenly tightened. “I said go, so you go. What? Are you refusing to listen to me now?” During the struggle, someone grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Dr. Bennett, don’t be angry. Nora has vision problems, so mistakes are inevitable. Don’t hold it against her.” It was Vivian, a new intern nurse at the hospital. As soon as she finished speaking, she deliberately leaned close to my ear and provoked me in a voice only we could hear. “Nora, you’re so useless. You can’t even walk steadily or toast properly.” “You should let go sooner rather than later. Don’t hold Dr. Bennett back.” My whole body stiffened. Not only did Ethan not push her away, he reached up and ruffled her hair, then turned to look at me. “Look at Vivian—thoughtful and capable. She’s so much better than you.” Familiar words, familiar tactics. I instantly recalled the past. He was always like this, deliberately being nice to other women in front of me, deliberately saying things to provoke me. All just to see me get jealous, panicked, crying and begging him not to leave. To see me become even more dependent on him, more obedient to him, like a dog tied to his side. In the past, I was afraid he would really abandon me, afraid of falling back into endless darkness. Every time I would obediently lower my head and beg for mercy, tightly clutching the corner of his clothes, following his every command. But now, I only found it laughable, and felt a bone-chilling cold. My heart was already dead. No matter how much he provoked me, it couldn’t stir the slightest ripple. I kept my eyes lowered. I didn’t cry, didn’t make a scene, and didn’t beg for mercy as I usually would. My composure completely enraged Ethan. He couldn’t stand me ignoring him like this, breaking free from his control. Irritation instantly swept through his entire body. He snatched a glass of red wine from a nearby server’s tray. Without allowing any argument, he pinched my chin and forcefully brought the wine glass to my lips. “Drink it.” I turned my head to dodge, but he roughly gripped my chin and forcibly poured it in. The harsh alcohol choked into my windpipe. I suddenly coughed violently, my whole body trembling. Tears streamed down uncontrollably, and even breathing became difficult. In the chaos, I vaguely felt his fingertips pause slightly, and a trace of extremely faint panic seemed to flash through his eyes. But that bit of panic wasn’t out of heartache—it was just his obsessive possessiveness at work. He never cared whether I was in pain, only whether I was still obedient enough, still dependent enough on him. The coughing gradually subsided. I slowly straightened up, with only one thought in my mind— I need to leave this place.

The birthday party didn’t continue. Ethan dragged me home. The burning pain in my throat hadn’t subsided, and my wrist ached and throbbed where he’d gripped it. I curled up in the passenger seat, not daring to make a sound. I just hoped to get home quickly and stay away from him. As soon as we entered the house, he let go of my hand and walked straight to the study. I supported myself against the wall and slowly made my way to the living room. Everything before my eyes was a blur—I couldn’t even see the outline of the sofa clearly. Darkness wrapped around me with a chill, swallowing me whole. In the past, I would always fearfully chase after him, softly coaxing him, begging him not to ignore me. But now, all that remained was a heart full of deathly silence. I didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, I fumbled my way out of bed. My vision was filled with blurry overlapping shadows. Unsteady on my feet, I crashed hard into the corner of the dining table. A sharp pain shot through my forehead, and warm liquid seemed to seep down along my skin. I gasped in pain and supported myself on the table for a long time before fumbling toward the drawer to get medicine. Just as I reached out my hand, my wrist was pressed down by someone. Ethan was standing in front of me at some point, holding a medicine bottle in his hand. “You didn’t obey last night, so you deserve to get hurt.” He held the medicine bottle high. “Remember, without my permission, you don’t even have the right to take medicine.” I covered my dizzy forehead, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. Years of submission were carved into my bones. Even though my heart was dead, my body still remembered fear. I bit my lip and squeezed out a sentence in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” Only then did he snort coldly and casually toss the medicine bottle aside. The glass bottle hit the floor and rolled somewhere unknown. “Pick it up yourself.” I knelt on the floor, fumbling randomly across the floor, my fingertips brushing through dust, utterly disheveled. And Ethan just stood there, watching me crawl on the ground like a dog. Not until I found the medicine and took it could I barely see things. Ethan knelt down and hugged me. “Nora, I didn’t mean to. I’m just afraid you’ll leave me. I just love you too much.” He held me tightly, but I only felt chilled to the bone. Before long, the doorbell rang. Vivian walked in carrying a bag. “Is Dr. Bennett not home? I came to ask about some work matters.” I moved aside to let her in and gestured for her to come in. But the next second, she poured the coffee she was holding all over me from above. My hand immediately swelled and turned red, with blisters visibly forming. Vivian immediately put on an innocent expression. “I’m so sorry, Nora. I didn’t mean to. You have vision problems, so you really shouldn’t walk around randomly.” “Otherwise you might hurt yourself again. Dr. Bennett cares about you so much—he definitely wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.” Every word she said was highlighting my uselessness, highlighting her importance in his heart. As soon as she finished speaking, Ethan walked out of the study. Seeing the mess on the floor and my red, scalded hand, he frowned. But it wasn’t directed at Vivian—he was angry at me. “Who told you to walk around? I told you, just stay put obediently and you don’t need to do anything. But you wouldn’t listen.” “Now you’re hurt. Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you again?” I was sweating all over from the pain and couldn’t say a word. But he quickly walked over and carefully examined Vivian’s hand. “Did you get burned? Are you okay?” From beginning to end, he didn’t look at me once. But when he turned to pour water for Vivian, in my blurry vision, I caught him quickly glancing at my wound. I just found it laughable. Late at night, after he fell asleep, I fumbled in the dark to the nightstand and quietly took out my backup phone. With trembling fingers, I messaged Professor Lewis in France, confirming the flight time and details of the eye experiment. Just as the message was about to send, the bedroom light suddenly turned on. Ethan was standing by the bed at some point, his eyes frighteningly sinister. He snatched my phone away. Just glimpsing the words “plane ticket” and “France,” his face instantly turned ashen. “Nora Sullivan, you want to escape?”

He suddenly smashed the phone hard on the floor. The screen shattered instantly. Then he reached out and gripped my throat tightly, with so much force I couldn’t breathe. “Let me tell you, you’ll never escape me in this lifetime!” “Even if you’re blind for life, you have to stay by my side. You can only die in front of me!” The suffocating feeling engulfed me like a tide. In my ears was his crazy roar. My vision was turning black. My hands flailed at his arm, but I couldn’t muster any strength. The fear of death seized me instantly. I jolted awake. I can’t die like this. I haven’t cured my eyes yet. I haven’t completely escaped from him. I used my last bit of strength to squeeze words from my throat. “I… I won’t run anymore…” Ethan’s hand suddenly loosened. I fell back onto the bed, gasping for air. “Really won’t run?” His eyes were sinister, still disbelieving. I nodded forcefully. “Really. I won’t leave you. I can’t live without you…” I had to stabilize him first. Only then would I have a chance. But he didn’t believe my submission at all, only taking it as false compliance. The next second, he roughly pulled me up and dragged me toward the door. I couldn’t see the way and stumbled, being forcibly dragged by him downstairs to the apartment complex. There weren’t many people in the evening, but there were still quite a few people walking around, their gazes all turning toward us. Ethan pushed me into the middle of the crowd, his voice as cold as ice. “Say it loudly: I can’t live without Ethan Bennett. I’m a worthless person who can’t live without him.” I stood frozen in place, my blood running cold. Years of inferiority, humiliation, and scenes of being laughed at by others all flooded back in an instant. I bit my lip hard, refusing to speak. “Won’t say it?” He suddenly gripped my wrist tightly. “Say it!” The surrounding chatter grew louder. Curious, contemptuous, and spectating gazes densely pierced into me. Just like all those gazes that had mocked me for my eye condition in the past—glaring and scorching. I practically shouted it out through tears, shame and humiliation completely drowning me. My whole body went limp. I could barely stand. I just wanted to escape from here as quickly as possible. “I can’t live without Ethan Bennett… I’m a worthless person who can’t live without him…” Passersby pointed and whispered, laughing, shaking their heads, talking amongst themselves. I felt like I was standing naked in front of everyone, my dignity trampled and ground to dust beneath his feet. Only then did Ethan let go with satisfaction, watching my disheveled, tear-stained appearance with pathological satisfaction in his eyes. When we got home, I was like someone whose soul had been extracted, sitting blankly on the sofa all night. In a daze, I recalled the past—how I knocked over shelves in the supermarket because I couldn’t see clearly, and was cursed at by staff who called me blind. How children in the neighborhood surrounded me, threw pebbles at me, and laughed at my crooked walk. Even distant relatives, when they saw me, would privately say I was a burden, a useless invalid. Back then, I always thought my eye condition had ruined everything. That Ethan was kind enough to take me in and care for me. He wouldn’t let me go out, so I obediently stayed home. He wouldn’t let me interact with outsiders, so I cut off all social contact. He said to take medicine on time, so I never dared miss a dose. He would watch me being mocked by others, then hold me in his arms. Saying “Don’t be afraid, I’m here,” making me increasingly dependent on him, obedient to him. He gradually cut off all my social connections and confiscated my documents. I became his possession, without self, without dignity, with only him filling my heart. But now I understand—his protection wasn’t love, it was to cage me into being more obedient. His gentleness wasn’t tenderness, it was to make me more devoted in my dependence.

From that day on, I stopped resisting him and obeyed his every command as before. When he asked me to toast at gatherings again, I no longer declined or cried and begged. People around praised how well Dr. Bennett had trained his wife. Ethan looked at me with eyes full of satisfaction at controlling everything. When he told me to stay in the room and not come out, I sat quietly by the bed, not fussing or making noise, not touching anything. When Vivian came to the house again to provoke me, deliberately dropping things at my feet and making cutting remarks. I didn’t get angry either. I just silently bent down to pick them up and even got up to pour her a cup of hot tea. “Vivian, have some tea.” Vivian was stunned for a moment and actually lost interest in continuing to make things difficult for me. Ethan saw all of this and was extremely satisfied. He felt I had finally been completely tamed, completely dependent on him, and his tense nerves gradually relaxed. He began to no longer watch me every second. Sometimes he would bring Vivian to the hospital. He would casually mention it on the phone, wanting to see me panic with jealousy. I deliberately said jealous things, and he would be overjoyed. Gradually, he returned to his previous temperament and no longer watched me constantly. Late at night, after he fell asleep, I pulled out the backup phone I’d hidden in the pillowcase. The one he’d smashed before was just a decoy. This was the one I’d secretly prepared long ago. My fingertips trembled as I fumbled across the screen, confirming tomorrow morning’s flight, the gate number, and the person who would meet me at the airport. The moment the message was successfully sent, my tense heart finally relaxed a bit. I packed the simplest luggage in the dark and hid the few documents and cash I had close to my body. Then I felt for his usual medicine bottle and emptied all the pills inside. I replaced them with identical-looking vitamin tablets and gently put it back in place. Ethan probably hadn’t seen me so obedient in so long that a trace of unease stirred in his heart. Before bed the next day, he suddenly pinched my chin, his tone probing. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hospital to check your eyes and see if there’s any improvement.” He wasn’t concerned about my eyes—he just wanted to check if I had any rebellious intentions. I raised my head. My vision was still blurry, but I actively reached out to hold his arm. “Okay, I’ll do whatever you say.” He completely let down his guard and pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on top of my head, his tone rarely gentle. “Nora, when I’m done with work, I’ll take you to see the ocean. You’ve always wanted to see what the sea looks like clearly, haven’t you?” I leaned against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. There wasn’t a ripple in my heart. I just nodded lightly. “Okay, I’ll do whatever you say.” He closed his eyes wearily and soon fell into a deep sleep, but his brow was still slightly furrowed, as if even in his dreams he feared I would escape. After confirming his breathing was even and he was sleeping deeply. Only then did I dare to carefully push his hand away bit by bit. Following the route I’d memorized over countless days and nights. I fumbled my way out of bed, avoiding the bed frame, chairs, and TV cabinet, moving step by step to the bedroom door and gently closing it. Without turning on lights, without making a sound. Like a shadow, I crossed the living room alone in the darkness and opened the front door. This was the first time in so many years I’d walked out of this cage alone without his support. My vision was still blurry, but my steps had never been so determined. At the entrance to the complex, the lights of a rideshare car glowed in the night. The driver called out my name. I slowly got into the car following the sound. “To the airport.” The car started and slowly drove away, leaving that suffocating house far behind. In the bedroom, Ethan jolted awake from his dream. He reached out—the bedding beside him was ice cold and empty. His heart suddenly tightened. In a panic, he turned on the light. The glaring light illuminated the empty room. There was no sign of me anywhere. “Nora Sullivan!” He roared like a madman, rushing out barefoot, turning the bedroom, living room, and balcony upside down, leaving every corner in chaos. Finally, he saw a note on the table with my blurry, crooked handwriting. Just one line: “Ethan Bennett, I’m leaving and never coming back.”

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During my shift, a woman suddenly burst in, insisting on having an abortion. I looked at her medical history and frowned. Nora Yuvette, 42 years old, 6 abortions in the past 6 months. “Have you really thought this through? Your body has been severely damaged. If you go through with this, it’ll be very difficult for you to conceive again in the future.” The woman didn’t hesitate for a second. She was even smiling. “I don’t like children, and I never planned to have any. It’s just that my boyfriend has such a high sex drive and refuses to wear condoms. Since he knows how to please me in bed, I guess I’ll put up with it.” This was a patient’s private matter. I didn’t push further. I only reminded her after the surgery to stay in the hospital for observation for a while. But she quickly threw on her coat. “I need to get back to my boyfriend. He just won first place in the annual Teacher of the Year award today. I should reward him properly.” At those words, I froze completely. My boyfriend’s message was still sitting unread on my phone. “Honey, I won first place today! My colleagues are insisting on celebrating together, so I won’t be coming home tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

In that instant, my mind went completely blank. I couldn’t process what was happening. Nora kept chattering away. It sounded like complaining. But her face couldn’t hide her smile. “He has severe sleep disorder. He needs to hold me every time to fall asleep. Says my scent calms him down, especially down there.” “Just now he texted me, told me not to shower. He likes me all natural.” When our eyes met, I could only smile awkwardly. Kieran Smith also had severe insomnia. I couldn’t accept this for a moment. Before my brain could catch up, my hand reached for the bracelet Nora had left on the desk. While she wasn’t paying attention, I slipped it into my pocket. An hour later, I called her. “Miss Yuvette, you left your bracelet in my office.” “I just got off work. If you give me your address, I can drop it off for you.” My voice trembled as I spoke. One hand gripped the phone while the other dug into my arm, trying to keep myself calm. Nora agreed without thinking twice and sent me her address. I gasped. A luxury villa in the city center, less than 2 kilometers from Kieran Smith’s school. As I walked, my heart felt like someone was squeezing it. Even breathing became difficult. I kept reassuring myself. Maybe it was just someone with the same name. Kieran wasn’t the only one who won first place. But an uneasy feeling kept gnawing at me. Even standing at the door, I couldn’t find the courage to knock. Then voices drifted from inside the room. “Nora, what took you so long to come back? I’ve been missing you.” “You can’t leave early today. You have to keep me company.” Instantly, I froze completely. That was Kieran Smith’s voice. But it sounded nothing like what I usually heard from him. It was so sweet it could drip honey. I couldn’t imagine Kieran acting cute. In an instant, my stomach churned violently. Bitterness surged up my throat. My legs went weak. I could only lean against the wall and slide to the ground. Before long, disgusting moans reached my ears. “Stop it, someone’s coming over soon.” “Oh, doesn’t that make it more exciting?” Kieran’s voice was like invisible hands tearing my heart into pieces. Kieran and I had met through a blind date. The first time we met, he wore a white shirt. He was well-spoken and never crossed any boundaries. My first impression of him was that he was clean. Later, he proved to be just that. His bag always held tissues, an umbrella, and hair ties. When I worked overtime, he’d bring me a hot meal. He’d wait 6 hours without a single complaint. He had boundaries. Six months into our relationship, we shared our first kiss. He was so careful, like he was holding a piece of jade. After 2 years together, we had our first time. His movements were gentle. When he saw me frown, he’d stop and ask if it hurt. My friends all thought I’d found a normal person and was in a healthy relationship. I thought so too. He was a teacher, I was a doctor. Everything seemed perfect. A month ago, on our 6th anniversary, we got engaged. But now, my fiancé was on the other side of this wall. Holding another woman. They were being rough. They knocked over a vase. “Another new position? Do you ever think about how old I am?” Kieran was breathing heavily, showing no signs of stopping. “But it feels so good like this.” In my memory, Kieran only ever used one position. Back then, I had even asked him about it. He just smiled. Said he didn’t like all those new tricks. Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. So it wasn’t that he didn’t like them. He just didn’t want to with me. Inside, they continued. My phone rang at that moment. “Dr. Johnson, how much longer until you arrive?” I stared at my phone for a long time, typing and deleting messages. Tears dripped onto my phone screen. Everything blurred. 6 years of feelings turned to nothing. I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t bear it. Listening to the sounds from inside, I finally made up my mind. I dialed a number. “I want to report something.”

I left in a daze. I almost got into a car accident on the way. Even that couldn’t pull me back to reality. Not until I returned home, to the wedding home that belonged to Kieran Smith and me. I had designed this room myself, taking time out of my schedule. I’d put thought into every detail. I deliberately kept the room with the best sunlight for Kieran’s study. Just because he once said he loved watching sunlight fall on book pages. The wall directly across was empty. It was meant for our wedding photo. I’d been torn between 2 wedding dresses. Kieran just said to follow my heart. But soon after, he booked both styles. “Do you like it? I specially prepared a surprise for you.” “I know you’ve been torn. We can afford it. If you like them, we can do 10 more sets!” To look good in the wedding photos, I’d started dieting early. But he disagreed. He thought dieting was too unhealthy. So he started making me healthy homemade meals that were both delicious and healthy. No matter how busy Kieran was, he never half-assed things for me. Even today was no exception. The food on the table was still warm. A note lay beside it. “Just reheat it yourself if it gets cold.” “Be good, I’ll be back soon.” Kieran’s love for me was always obvious. I only had to reach out to feel it. Didn’t he love me? Didn’t he want to marry me? Then why was he with Nora Yuvette? What did that make me? I couldn’t figure it out. In my mind, memories of Kieran and Nora’s face all tangled together. For a moment, my head throbbed painfully. I collapsed completely, slumping to the floor. Tears broke through the dam. I couldn’t hold back anymore. Until my phone rang. It was from the report hotline I’d called that afternoon. I immediately broke out in a cold sweat. I didn’t dare face it, but still instinctively answered. The voice on the other end was cold, even carrying a hint of anger. “Ms. Johnson, we’ve sent people to investigate. There was no illegal activity.” “Mr. Kieran Smith and Ms. Nora Yuvette are legally married.” Instantly, my mind buzzed. The next second, my phone crashed to the floor. How could this be? My whole body began trembling uncontrollably. I replayed that person’s words in my mind over and over. Each time I recalled it, it was like pouring salt on a wound. It hurt so much. Everything spun before my eyes. In the empty room, only my heavy breathing remained. Just then, the door was pushed open. I turned around and met Kieran Smith’s cold gaze. He looked down at me. Seeing me collapsed on the floor, there wasn’t a trace of pity in his eyes. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” “Then don’t do things like that again.”

It was as if nothing had happened. He took off his coat and changed into slippers. Kieran calmly walked into the bathroom to wash his hands. After tidying up, he walked over to me. “Actually, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while. I just couldn’t find the right opportunity.” “Nora and I have been together for 4 years. We got married last year.” He spoke lightly. Like he was talking about something completely ordinary. We’d been together for 6 years, and he’d been cheating for 4 of them. I had so much to say. But it all stuck in my throat. They were married. Protected by law. Did that make me the mistress? I started vomiting uncontrollably. Kieran smelled exactly like Nora. The flush on his cheeks hadn’t completely faded. I stared at him, forcing myself to stay calm. “Then what am I? You fell in love with someone else, so why didn’t you say anything?” With every word I spoke, my heart bled. But Kieran’s face showed no emotion. He even seemed to be reminiscing. “Gianna Johnson, you don’t need to talk to me like that.” “You think that necklace around your neck and those designer bags in your closet fell from the sky? I’m just an ordinary person who wants a better life. What’s wrong with that?” “Even if I cheated, I never treated you poorly, did I? I took you on trips abroad. I served you like a princess every day. Isn’t that enough?” As he spoke, he suddenly bent down and helped me up. A playful glint appeared in his eyes. His hand gently brushed across my forehead, straightening my messy hair. “Gianna, actually, I’ve already prepared a parting gift for you.” “Nora’s family is really wealthy, and they treat their employees well. Her driver, Wade Davis, makes over 10,000 a month.” “I’ve arranged everything. In a couple of days, you’ll marry Wade. At least you’ll have a good life from now on.” Kieran’s voice was especially gentle. Just listening to his tone, you’d really think he had my best interests at heart. How ridiculous. I wasn’t his property. Why should I follow his arrangements? “Kieran Smith, you’re truly despicable.” Those words completely killed any desire I had to argue with him. He had become a completely different person. The good man in my memory gradually blurred. Or rather, this was who he’d always been. He’d just hidden it too well. 6 years, wasted on a jerk. Looking at his shameless face, my blood boiled. I spat right in his face. The next second, Kieran’s expression changed completely. When he turned back, his face had turned vicious. “Who are you trying to act pure for?” “When you were with Wade Davis, weren’t you moaning loud enough?” As he spoke, he actually pulled out surveillance footage. He laughed wildly. “I knew you’d say that.” “So on our engagement day, the person in bed with you wasn’t me at all.”

I didn’t listen to the rest of Kieran’s words. I ran out just before throwing up again. Scenes from our engagement day kept flashing through my mind. Kieran had been especially excited. He drank glass after glass and kept pouring wine into my cup. I couldn’t stop him. I drank until I was completely out of it. The last thing I remembered before passing out was Kieran carrying me into the room. Turns out, he personally delivered me to another man’s bed. Realizing I’d spent an entire night with a stranger, I threw up. My whole body shook uncontrollably. I leaned against a flower bed, crying until I couldn’t breathe. Too absorbed in my pain, I didn’t even notice someone quietly approaching from behind. Not until that shrill laugh reached my ears. I turned around and met Nora Yuvette’s eyes. She was covering her mouth, laughing. Her eyes couldn’t hide her smugness. “So you’re his little girlfriend. What a coincidence.” “No wonder your face looked so awful this afternoon when you heard me talking. Kieran’s never treated you that way, has he!” I figured she’d come to pick a fight too. But the anger on her face completely disappeared when she saw me. I didn’t want her to see me like this. So I forced myself to stand up and face her. My brain told me I should curse her out, vent properly. But when the words reached my lips, I couldn’t say them. “When you got together with him, did you know he had a girlfriend?” I tried to appear strong, but my voice trembled as soon as I spoke. Even in this moment, I still wanted to find excuses for this relationship. But seeing Nora’s arrogant face, I understood. “Of course I knew. So what?” “Young guys throw themselves at me every day. They don’t care about their girlfriends, so why should I care?” “I suggest you stop dwelling on this. He and I are already married anyway.” “Just go along with Wade. He’s a bit older, sure, but he’s more than good enough for you.” She laughed wildly. Her tone carried an undeniable authority. As soon as she finished speaking, she actually reached out and grabbed me. Without another word, she tried to shove me into the car. “The first time you didn’t even see his face. How boring.” “I’m calling Wade right now. Let you two lovebirds enjoy yourselves properly.” In that moment, I completely snapped out of it. Seeing her raise her phone, I actually laughed. Did she really think I was some pushover? Dream on. I grabbed a wooden stick from the bushes and swung it at her face with all my strength. The stick even had thorns on it. In an instant, it left a mark on her cheek. Blood fell, staining the wild grass. “Are you crazy? Believe it or not, one phone call and I’ll make sure you never work again!” Nora didn’t even have time to cry out in pain before dialing a number. “Mr. Johnson, someone bullied me!”

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I was diagnosed with breast cancer during my premarital checkup. My fiancé Daniel tried to persuade me: “Elliot, just get it removed. I won’t think less of you. Georgina specially applied for this surgery slot for you. She’s been interning in oncology for a year now, and it wasn’t easy for her to get this practical opportunity.” So he was pushing me to accept the surgery just so his childhood friend could practice on me. I endured the churning pain in my chest and firmly refused: “No!” “But Georgina needs this surgery!” he said angrily. I looked at him in disbelief. Daniel realized his tone was too harsh and softened his attitude: “If something’s broken, it has to be removed. Worst case… you can just get implants later. If you don’t have the surgery, how can we still get married?” Then let’s not get married! He didn’t know I’d already booked my flight abroad. I had a childhood friend who happened to be a world-renowned oncology expert. Seeing me silent, Daniel took advantage of the red light to grab my hand and persuade me. “Would I really harm you?” “Georgina already analyzed the pros and cons with me. If you don’t get this surgery soon, it could be life-threatening!” “Who do you think I’m doing this for?” The more he spoke, the more panicked he became. I coldly pulled my hand away from Daniel’s. “Daniel, don’t treat people like fools.” “You know perfectly well who you’re doing this for!” The atmosphere in the car dropped several degrees. Daniel’s proud jawline tensed. He glanced back at me with a glare. “Here you go again, getting jealous and making a scene over Georgina, right?” “I’ve told you hundreds of times—Georgina and I are completely innocent. It’s not as dirty as you think!” “If you really think that way, I guess there’s really no need for us to get married.” Whenever Georgina was mentioned, Daniel would use marriage to pressure me. Whenever it concerned Georgina, it was always me overthinking, me being petty. “Fine. Let’s not get married then.” The car suddenly screeched to a halt by the roadside. Daniel hadn’t expected me to agree. Disbelief flickered in his eyes. “Elliot, you really don’t know what’s good for you.” “Do you know how long Georgina fought with the hospital for this surgery slot for you? Do you know how many times I’ve gone to the hospital for your condition?” I let out a cold laugh. “Well, thank you both so much for your hard work.” “But I already said—I’m not doing this surgery.” “Whether as family or as a doctor, shouldn’t you respect the patient’s own wishes?” It had been a month since the premarital checkup diagnosed my breast cancer. During this month, Daniel had indeed been running back and forth to the hospital. But it wasn’t for my condition—it was to pick up and drop off Georgina from work. Daniel and I had been together for eight years. Forget picking me up from work—he didn’t even know which direction my office door faced. But Georgina had only been back for six months, and he’d already become a hospital regular. “Elliot, this isn’t up to you.” “I’ve already filled out the admission form for you, and I’ll sign the surgery consent form as your spouse when the time comes.” “This surgery is important for both you and Georgina!” Not important for me. Important for Georgina. Who didn’t know that Georgina, despite being back for six months, kept making mistakes in the operating room and might get fired? She needed my surgery to prove her abilities. “No way…” My unfinished words were interrupted by urgent ringing. Georgina’s name flashed on the screen. I stared at the custom sticker on the passenger side dashboard—”Georgina’s Seat Only”—the words burning into my eyes. I’d fought with him countless times over this sticker, but Daniel always said the same thing: “She’s younger than you, more immature than you. Can’t you just be understanding?” “It’s just a sticker. What’s the big deal?” Whenever it concerned Georgina, in Daniel’s eyes I was being unreasonable and jealous. Over the past six months, I’d swallowed more grievances than I could count. I rolled my eyes and said nothing, watching him answer the call. “What’s wrong, Georgina?” Completely different from his confrontational tone with me moments ago, his voice was immediately gentle and concerned. Whatever she sobbed about on the other end, Daniel tensed up nervously. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, Daniel unlocked the doors. “Georgina’s apartment is flooding. I need to get over there.” “Take a cab home yourself.” Daniel turned the steering wheel and made a U-turn. “The surgery is decided. Stop putting on a show.” “That thing—once it’s gone, it’s gone. Let’s be real, women’s breasts are basically just there for men anyway, right?” “I’m not even bothered that you won’t have them. Why are you making such a fuss?” My mind exploded with a buzzing sound. Before I could respond, Daniel unbuckled my seatbelt and pushed me out of the car.

The car drove off in a cloud of dust, leaving me standing there in a daze for a long time. Eight years—it felt like I was seeing Daniel clearly for the first time. Even the heavens seemed to be mocking me. I’d only walked a few steps when the rain began pouring down. Daniel’s car was still at the traffic light. One second, two seconds, three seconds—the car started up and sped away without a moment’s hesitation. He claimed to be worried about my illness, yet he could still abandon his sick fiancée in the rain for a single word from Georgina. When he left, he didn’t even think to leave me an umbrella. The journey home felt endless. I don’t know how I made it back. All I knew was that Daniel and I were truly over. When I reached the door of what was supposed to be our marital home, I heard a man and woman laughing inside through the half-open door. As I pushed the door open, Daniel and Georgina both turned around simultaneously. Daniel said nothing, just frowned at my drenched appearance. Georgina exclaimed, “Elliot, what happened to you?” “You can’t get caught in the rain with your condition! If you get a fever, you won’t be able to have the surgery the day after tomorrow…” So the surgery was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Coincidentally, my flight was also the day after tomorrow. Hearing this, Daniel panicked. He hurriedly grabbed a towel and hairdryer, pulled me over, and pressed me down onto the sofa. “What are you doing!” “Didn’t I tell you to take a cab home?” “If you delay Georgina’s surgery, I’m telling you—I won’t marry you!” The hairdryer roared. Daniel’s words pierced my heart like needles. It hurt. My health wasn’t important. What mattered was Georgina’s surgery. In Daniel’s eyes, my breast was Georgina’s ticket to stay at State Hospital, her only chance. “Go take a hot shower quickly. Don’t catch a cold.” “These next few days, take care of yourself. No colds, no fevers.” Daniel gave me a push. Georgina smiled beside him, adding quite a few pre-surgery precautions. “Daniel, I’m hungry…” “I want to eat your red wine steak.” Georgina’s coquettish voice came from behind me, along with Daniel’s indulgent response. My feet felt like they were filled with lead. In our eight years together, I’d only learned that Daniel could cook after Georgina came back. The day Georgina returned to the country, Daniel brought her to our home. I’d thoughtfully made restaurant reservations, but Georgina said she wanted to eat Daniel’s home cooking, so he immediately went into the kitchen. He spent three hours making eight dishes. The last dish was red wine steak. “I’ve missed your cooking all these years abroad.” “Daniel, you haven’t forgotten what you promised me, have you?” Daniel took off his apron and wiped his hands. “How would I dare forget what the princess said? I’ve never cooked for anyone else. If you don’t believe me, ask Elliot—she didn’t even know I could cook!” The two of them laughed. Daniel gently ruffled Georgina’s hair. At the dining table, I sat across from Georgina, so embarrassed I wanted to crawl into a hole. That day they chatted happily while I couldn’t get a word in. When I came out after my shower, the greasy smell of food hit me. “Elliot, come over here.” Georgina was sitting next to Daniel, calling me over to eat. I glanced at their shoulders pressed together and gave a slight smile. Where was there a place for me at that table?

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” I turned and went back to the bedroom, only to find it filled with someone else’s belongings. “What’s going on?” Daniel didn’t even look up. “Oh, Georgina’s apartment flooded.” “She’s moving in temporarily.” “After you finish your surgery and recover, she’ll move out.” My hand holding the towel trembled uncontrollably. When I spoke, my voice carried a hint of tears. “Daniel, this is our marital home.” Each word was heavy with grief. But Daniel didn’t understand. He frowned and looked over, his eyes carrying a trace of reproach. “We’re not married yet, are we? Whether it’s a marital home is debatable! Elliot, stop making trouble out of nothing.” Georgina didn’t say a word, keeping her head down as she ate, but her trembling shoulders showed she was laughing. I said nothing, just took my things and went to the guest room. Just a few more days. I could endure this. The flight was the day after tomorrow. Once I left, I’d like to see who Georgina could practice her surgery on! Just as I sat down, my phone rang. It was Williams. “My queen, don’t forget next Monday’s flight.” Williams’s mischievous voice came through the phone. I’d always said I found him annoying, but now his voice felt like a lifeline. “I haven’t forgotten.” “Williams, what if my situation is really bad enough to require surgery?” There was silence on the other end for a moment. “Elliot, don’t be scared.” “I’ve seen the scans you sent me. It’s not as terrible as it seems. Our equipment here is more precise. Do another scan here—what if it’s a misdiagnosis?” “Even if it is confirmed, there are many treatment options. Surgery isn’t the only one.” Williams had always been like an unreliable kid who never grew up. But hearing this string of comforting words, I suddenly realized the boy on the other end was no longer the Williams I remembered. Williams’s words soothed my wounded heart. Not long after I hung up, there was a knock on the door. It was Georgina. She was wearing my pajamas, her eyes carrying a hint of provocation. “Elliot, you don’t mind me wearing your pajamas, do you?” I glanced at her coldly. “No problem. I’ll just throw them out later.” Georgina’s red lips curved up slightly as she smiled and walked in. “Elliot, do you know why Daniel didn’t show up to get our marriage license last time?” Daniel and I had scheduled our license appointment six months ago, for the third day after Georgina’s return. On the day we were supposed to register, Daniel was late. By the time he arrived, everyone at city hall had already left. He pulled me aside apologetically. “Elliot, I really didn’t mean to. My car got rear-ended on the way.” “My phone broke too…” Daniel pitifully pulled out his shattered phone from his pocket as proof it was really an accident. I believed him. “Because that day was the anniversary of the first time we slept together. He went with me to revisit the place where it happened.” “Do you know where?” “His bedroom, when I was eighteen…” Georgina leaned close to me. The hickey at the neckline of her pajamas was very conspicuous. This was Daniel’s “nothing’s going on with Georgina.” No wonder after Georgina came back, Daniel never mentioned getting our license again. The only time he brought it up was for this premarital checkup. He mentioned it on the day of our eight-year anniversary. “Elliot, let’s do a premarital checkup. Georgina said she’d arrange it for us.” Daniel and I had our biggest fight ever. “Daniel, if you don’t want to get married, just say so. No need to keep dragging this out. I’m not someone who can’t live without you!”

That wasn’t just talk. In the six months since Georgina came back, Daniel put her first in everything. Various dinners, picking her up and dropping her off from work—every single time we’d fight because of her. But nothing ever got resolved. We’d make up in a muddle, then start fighting about Georgina again. Every time we fought, Daniel would threaten not to marry me. The constant back and forth had long since exhausted all my expectations. But people are like that—they don’t turn back until they hit a wall. I couldn’t completely let go of my eight years with Daniel. So I agreed to the checkup, and that’s when the breast cancer was discovered. “Elliot, tell me—if a woman doesn’t have breasts, what’s the difference between her and a man?” Georgina’s words interrupted my memories. She covered her mouth as she laughed, triumph in her smiling eyes. “If I were you, I wouldn’t even want to live… Daniel even said…” I clenched my fists. “Get out!” I didn’t want to hear another word from Georgina. After pushing her out, I slid down against the door and sat on the floor. That powerless, painful feeling spread through my chest like vines, as if someone was strangling my neck. I could barely breathe. Eight years. I’d wasted eight years. Perhaps because of my excessive grief, I developed a high fever that night. I pressed ice packs to my body and head, but nothing worked. With no other choice, I knocked on Daniel’s door. “I think I have a fever…” Before I could finish, I collapsed into Daniel’s arms. Daniel panicked and tried to call for an ambulance, but Georgina stopped him. “Don’t call!” “If she goes to the hospital now, they’ll definitely give her an IV. Once she’s on medication, the surgery the day after tomorrow will be ruined!” Daniel was caught in a dilemma. “Then what do we do? We can’t just let her burn up!” Georgina took a deep breath. “Put her in the bathtub. Soaking overnight will bring down the fever.” I struggled to maintain consciousness, begging Daniel to take me to the hospital. “Daniel… I need… to go to the hospital… Please, take me to the hospital…” Georgina shook her head at him. “No.” Daniel glanced at Georgina, bit his lip, and said to her, “Okay, go run the water.” Whatever faint hope I’d been harboring died completely in that moment. For the sake of Georgina completing her surgery, my life meant nothing to Daniel. Fortunately, my fever broke the next day. Daniel seemed somewhat guilty. He specially made porridge for breakfast. “Elliot, I made this especially for you.” “Georgina said to eat something light today so you’ll be ready for surgery tomorrow.” I glanced at it indifferently, then tossed it straight into the trash. All day, I didn’t say a single word to Daniel. Not until I got up in the middle of the night for water and heard Daniel’s voice coming through the door crack. “I know, I know.” “After her surgery is done, I’ll definitely talk to her about breaking up.” “I’m only keeping her happy now so you can do the surgery, aren’t I? Okay, okay, don’t be angry…” I wasn’t surprised by what Daniel said. Instead, I felt strangely relieved. That night, I sat in the living room until dawn. When Daniel discovered me, he took a surprised step back. “Why are you up so early?” I stood up. “Waiting for you two, to go to the hospital for surgery.” “Didn’t you say once the surgery’s done, we can get our license?” “Daniel, I’ve thought it through.” Daniel seemed surprised, unable to hide his happiness. Last night he’d been worried I’d make a scene at the hospital and the surgery couldn’t proceed smoothly. Now it seemed everything was going perfectly. Daniel took Georgina and me to the hospital. Georgina busied herself with pre-surgery preparations while Daniel waited outside my hospital room. “I’m going to change clothes first.” Daniel was very reassured and didn’t follow. I followed the medical staff to the changing room, and taking advantage of the crowd, turned around and walked out. Following the flow of people, I took the elevator out of the inpatient building. “To the airport.” I got in a car and left the hospital. Meanwhile, Daniel sat in the hospital room waiting for a long time without seeing anyone return. Worried, he got up to look. “Where’s Elliot? Wasn’t she changing clothes?” The medical staff frowned. “She changed and came out ages ago.” Daniel broke out in a cold sweat. He searched the entire inpatient building without finding any trace of me. All his calls were rejected. Daniel completely panicked. Just then, his phone rang. When Daniel saw who it was, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Elliot, did you get lost?” “Where are you? I’ll come get you…” “I’m at the airport. Daniel, let’s break up.”

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The day my mother died, I watched helplessly as my father brought his mistress and her daughter Rose into our home. So on my wedding day with Alexander, when I saw Alexander and Rose rolling around in bed together, I wasn’t surprised. I just thought to myself—the daughter of a homewrecker is destined to be a homewrecker too. Then I used the Swiss Army knife Alexander gave me and slashed Rose’s face. Alexander immediately had me thrown in prison. After I was imprisoned, Alexander divorced me and gave Rose a grand wedding. Three years later, I was released. Alexander hired twenty security guards, terrified I would hurt Rose again. He even set traps, trying to send me back to prison. But he was overthinking it. I disappeared from his life like a drop of water merging into the ocean. We met again at my auto repair shop. I spat out the toothpick I’d been chewing on, lifted the hood with my grease-stained fingers, and asked calmly: “How old is this car?” He suddenly clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth: “Scarlett, this car was the first gift you ever gave me.” My hand holding the wrench paused. “Oh, then it’s got some years on it. Needs a major overhaul.” My tone was too flat. Alexander froze slightly, opening his mouth several times but unable to speak. I tapped each bolt with my wrench, checking them carefully and thoroughly. As if the dazzling yellow sports car in front of me was no different from the thousands of other cars I’d repaired. Perhaps finding the metallic clanging too grating, Alexander’s expression changed several times before he finally pulled out a mocking smile: “Scarlett, if you need money, you can just call me.” “There’s no need to scatter nails on the road and lure me to this godforsaken place to watch you perform.” I smiled and made conversation, as if chatting casually with an ordinary customer: “If I could act, I’d be a movie star.” “You came from Route 3, right? The news this morning said a truck carrying steel nails overturned there yesterday. Better be careful.” As I spoke, I casually grabbed a towel nearby and wiped the grease off my hands. Alexander’s eyes fixed on that towel. Originally pink, it had been washed until it faded to white, with frayed edges. He seemed to finally lose his patience and raised his voice: “Scarlett, you used to be proud as a swan.” “Claustrophobia, OCD, germaphobia—you had every spoiled rich girl ailment. You’d wipe a single speck of dust off your heels for ages, fire the maid over one grease spot on the table…” “And now you…” “Scarlett, take a look at my car! The AC isn’t cooling anymore!” With a booming female voice, the shop door was pushed open again. A woman in a floral shirt walked in and shoved her car keys into my hand. “Sure thing, Bella. Leave it here, I’ll check it out in a bit.” I took the keys. “Probably just needs a recharge. Small problem.” “Alright, you’re busy.” Bella cheerfully patted my shoulder, then glanced at Alexander and lowered her voice. “Got a customer? I’ll head out then. Talk later.” After seeing Bella off, I remembered there was still a customer in the shop and gave Alexander a polite smile. “So, Mr. Alexander, your car’s fixed. Thanks for your business. Twenty dollars.” “You…” Alexander stared at me blankly. It took him a long time to get out one word, but he had no strength to say the rest. Instead, he quickly pulled out his phone and scanned the payment code. Seeing the five hundred dollars that came through, I waved my hands repeatedly: “Mr. Alexander, you overpaid. Let me transfer the difference back.” As I spoke, I instinctively tried to find Alexander’s contact. Then I suddenly remembered—after I went to prison, he’d blocked me. Helplessly, I scratched my head. “This is awkward. Mr. Alexander, could you give me your payment code?” “You… didn’t you say the car needed a major overhaul?” Alexander’s expression was complicated. “Check the other parts too. Is this enough?” I was quite pleased. “More than enough! Plenty to spare. Just wait right here then.” I grabbed the stool nearby and pushed it toward Alexander. Seeing his crisp suit, I found a cleaner rag to place on it for him. Alexander was silent for a long time before sitting down somewhat stiffly, posture elegant, palms resting on his knees. The next second, he was startled by the creaking of the glass door. “Scarlett, still fixing cars during lunch? Business must be good. No wonder you ordered two burgers today. Turns out you’ve got a luxury car customer.” It was the delivery guy who brought me food every day. I chatted and joked with him for a bit, taking the takeout from his hands. Meanwhile, Alexander seemed uncomfortable being called a “customer,” turning his face slightly and letting out a soft breath. But there was no helping it—the whole neighborhood was like this. Mitch from the nail salon next door came over asking if I wanted to go to the bar tonight. The office worker from upstairs came down with a big suitcase, asking to store it and pick it up tonight. A passing female student rushed in asking if I had a power bank she could borrow. Their gazes—curious or appraising—lingered on Alexander more or less. Finally, he shifted uncomfortably and crossed his legs: “Scarlett, is this how you’ve degraded yourself, mixing with… these poor people?” His eyes seemed a bit red, though maybe I was mistaken. After three years in prison, my eyesight had gotten worse. “The car doesn’t have any major problems.” I straightened up, wiping the sweat from my forehead with my elbow. “Just some brake pad wear. Best to replace them, but this is a small shop—I don’t have original parts. You’ll need to go to a bigger place for that.” I pointed out the location of another repair shop, then eagerly opened my takeout.

But Alexander showed no signs of leaving. I was a bit confused. After thinking for a moment, I pushed the fries toward him: “Are you hungry, Mr. Alexander? If you don’t mind, have some.” Alexander’s gaze wandered, passing over the grease in my nail beds that wouldn’t wash clean, then sweeping over my burger and fries. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit hoarse: “That’s all fast food, unhealthy… you didn’t used to eat that.” In his memory, I was picky, had a selective diet, loved Japanese and French cuisine. If food was even slightly off, it could have me hugging the toilet and vomiting until I was dizzy. I smiled: “In prison, I wanted to eat this stuff but couldn’t. Now I do physical labor all day—it cured all my fussy habits.” “The fries here are really good. Try some, Mr. Alexander.” “Oh, they even gave an extra ketchup packet today! Score!” I happily pulled out the ketchup packet and tossed it into the storage box behind me. Inside were already quite a few complimentary condiment packets—buy one pack of bread and I could make do for a meal. Alexander suddenly stood up, his voice thick with emotion: “Enough!” I was startled. The next second, he threw a black card at me. “This is my secondary card. Take it.” His movement was too abrupt—he not only knocked over the little stool but almost spilled my takeout. Fortunately, my reflexes were quick. I dodged to the side, barely protecting my burger. “Mr. Alexander,” I said somewhat helplessly, “if you’re not going to eat, I’ll start…” “Scarlett!” Alexander couldn’t take it anymore and roared in a low voice. “I’m serious!” “This secondary card is linked to one of my platinum cards. Five million dollar limit. Spend whatever you want.” “Buy a better storefront, do some proper business, be your own boss. Don’t stay cooped up in this kind of place being a dirty, exhausting auto mechanic anymore!” “You used to be a well-off ski athlete. Have you forgotten?!” His roar was deafening, immediately dragging me into memories. My birth family was indeed well-off—one of Utah’s largest investment firms. I was an only child in a wealthy family until age seven, when my mom became pregnant with twin sisters. But just as we were joyfully anticipating their arrival, Dad’s affair arrived right on schedule. He fell for a mixed-race starlet, loved her with earth-shattering passion. So much so that the mistress came right to my mother’s face and forced her to divorce. My mother was a fierce woman. She quickly got into an argument with the mistress. In the chaos, I watched with my own eyes as that woman extended her long red nails, grabbed my mother’s neck, and pushed her down the stairs. Three lives lost in one fall. She died with her eyes open. Afterward, to force me to change my testimony, my dad strung me up and beat me for a full day and night, finally securing the mistress’s release. They got married. The mistress even brought her daughter from her previous marriage—my stepsister, Rose. My nightmare began then. Beatings, verbal abuse, false accusations, constant bullying. To survive, I had to escape to Switzerland. I practiced desperately and became a ski athlete who made a splash. At that time, Alexander was at a business school in Switzerland. A fleeting glimpse during a race broadcast, and he became my passionate fan. Every time I reached the finish line in a competition, he’d be holding up a sign with my name, shouting with all his might. When a corrupt referee deliberately misjudged me, he led all his classmates to the streets of Switzerland just to get me justice. He stayed with me through injuries, encouraged me through my low points. Finally, when I steadily crossed the finish line in first place, I took off my skis and rushed toward him in the stands. In the fluttering confetti and audience cheers, I embraced him tightly before countless witnesses. The abnormal relationship between idol and fan ended there. He became my public boyfriend. But I never imagined that on the night of my championship, as we strolled through the streets of Switzerland, two armed thugs rushed at us! They wanted to rob us. Alexander immediately fought them to protect me. I was terrified he’d get hurt. I rushed up to help him without thinking. In my panicked rush forward, a bullet hit my chest. This shot didn’t kill me, but it punctured my lung and grazed my heart. From then on, I could never do strenuous exercise again. Like skiing. But I never regretted it. Alexander was the love of my life. His importance far exceeded any competition. I might win a hundred championships, but I only had one Alexander. As I lay in the hospital bed, weakly holding Alexander’s hand and telling him all this, he cried and threw himself into my arms. “Scarlett, let’s go home. My family has connections in both politics and business. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you all the way!” That’s the kind of person Alexander was. He wasn’t good at sweet talk—he just did concrete things. I returned home with him, full of joy. At the airport, we saw Rose who’d come to pick us up. When she saw the heir to Alexander’s family standing beside me, her pupils dilated in shock. But she quickly smiled brilliantly. I thought of her mistress mother. When she stood beside my father, her smile had the exact same curve. And this ominous premonition soon became reality. I don’t know when it started, but Alexander began mentioning Rose frequently. At first, he said she was cute and sweet. Then he said she was pitiful living under someone else’s roof. Later still, he said, “Scarlett, stop bullying Rose all the time.” I wanted to have a good talk with Alexander, but it happened to be the anniversary of my mother and sisters’ deaths. I had to visit the cemetery first. When I came home after laying flowers, I witnessed a scene I’d never forget. Alexander and Rose, that pair of dogs, were lying naked on the white sheets. “Alexander, why didn’t you go pay respects to your future mother-in-law today?” Rose asked. “How could her mother be my mother-in-law… if I had to choose a mother-in-law, it’d be your mother…” My ears rang. I completely lost my mind, rushed into the room like a madwoman, and struck with my knife. The blade sliced across Rose’s beautiful face. Her scream—I still remember it. So satisfying. Afterward, the judge considered that I was the victim in the marriage and wanted to give a light sentence with probation. It was Alexander who hired the best legal team, even bribed witnesses to give false testimony, and finally got me sentenced to three years in prison. I let out a breath and quietly studied Alexander standing before me. Money is wonderful. Time hadn’t left a single trace on this handsome man. But it had given me cracked hands, hair cut short to my ears for convenience, and nail beds that would never be clean. I gently pushed the secondary card back. “Not necessary, Mr. Alexander. I’m living pretty well now.” “Food and clothing aren’t worries. I’m free and easy, don’t steal or rob, earn money with my own hands.”

But Alexander stubbornly extended his hand. “Just consider it… compensation from me. You take the money, let go of the resentment, and we’ll be even from now on.” I looked at him with some surprise. The proud Alexander had actually learned to compensate others. He never used to lower his head. “Then it’s even less necessary. I saved you because you were my boyfriend at the time. I deliberately hurt someone and went to prison—that was as it should be. Neither of us owes the other anything.” Alexander clenched his fists, eyes fixed on me. As if confirming over and over that the person standing before him was indeed Scarlett herself. Finally, he slowly lowered his head, tears seeming to glisten in the corners of his eyes. “Scarlett… you make me feel like such a stranger.” I looked at the clock on the wall. “We haven’t seen each other in years. Of course we’re strangers.” “Back then… I lost control for a moment.” He paused, his voice choking slightly. “All these years, I’ve been thinking—if you hadn’t committed that impulsive crime, out of guilt, I definitely would have married you and treated you doubly well…” I said nothing for a long time, letting the clock’s ticking be stretched infinitely long by the silence. “Everyone has their own fate.” I fished a lollipop from my pocket, peeled off the wrapper and stuck it in my mouth. “Don’t regret what you did, and don’t look back.” “You—” Alexander was rendered speechless by this ordinary statement. After a long while, he said irritably: “You haven’t changed in one way—you’re still a stone in the toilet, smelly and hard!” I nodded readily. “The neighbors all say I’ve got a stubborn streak.” “Scarlett!” Alexander clenched his fists. After holding it in for ages, he suddenly called my nickname. I was momentarily dazed. The tone he used for those two syllables was just like before. Seeing my distraction, he softened his voice: “If you won’t accept my compensation, I can act as mediator between you and your father. You don’t know yet, do you? Your father has late-stage pancreatic cancer. He won’t live much longer.” “If you get his forgiveness now, you can still get a share of the inheritance—enough to last you a lifetime…” “Is that so?” I was quite pleased. “He’s finally getting what he deserves.” After I’d deflected the conversation three or four times, Alexander lost his patience. He suddenly grabbed my arm, trying to pull me to his car. “Scarlett, how long are you going to keep up this stubborn act!” “Look at yourself! Just look at what you’ve become!” “Renting a tiny, dark self-built house, doing dirty, exhausting repair work!” “Eating junk food—do you think this appearance is cool, special, touching?” “You’re just a bottom-tier mechanic! The very bottom!” I looked down at myself—my work clothes covered in grease, hair carelessly tied in a ponytail, face probably smudged with dirt too. I honestly rebutted: “It’s not that bad, is it? At least I still have a clean face, unlike certain people…” Alexander jumped up like someone had stepped on his foot, his face flushed: “Rose has had surgery and is completely restored! Although there are scars, makeup can cover them!” “And you—you smell like motor oil, your hands are rough as sandpaper. What man could stand that!” Getting emotional, he swung his Hermès bag at me haphazardly, like someone disappointed in me for not living up to potential. Just then, the glass door creaked and was pushed open again. Two children, a boy and a girl, shot in like rockets…

“Mommy!” The children competed to throw themselves into my arms, giggling nonstop. In that bell-like laughter, the expression on Alexander’s face froze abruptly. “Scarlett, these two children are…” He stared wide-eyed at the children’s faces, as if trying to find something about them that didn’t resemble me. “Did you adopt them from somewhere?” The children didn’t like hearing that. My son puffed out his chest: “You’re the adopted one! Your whole family is adopted!” My daughter pouted and hugged my neck tight: “Mommy, who is he?” Children speak without thinking. The color gradually drained from Alexander’s face. Even his lips trembled. “You… got married and had children?” I smiled and confirmed it, smoothing back my daughter’s disheveled hair: “Yes, twins. The twin gene my mother passed down to me.” “The children’s father is…” “None of your business.” I was brief and to the point, then pulled over the two children clinging to me: “He’s someone Mommy… used to know.” “Hello!” Though reluctant, the children still obediently and sweetly greeted Alexander. Alexander instinctively reached for something on himself, probably wanting to find some kind of greeting gift. But he discovered his perfectly tailored suit didn’t even have pockets. Not knowing how to interact with children, he could only stare blankly as the children surrounded me, competing for attention. “Mommy, I learned to fold my blanket by myself today! The teacher praised me!” “I helped the teacher erase the blackboard! I’m better than my sister!” “Mommy, what are we eating tonight?” “Roast chicken! Daddy promised to take us for roast chicken!” I good-naturedly agreed to each request, the fine lines at the corners of my eyes and brows smoothing out with their laughter. Alexander lowered his eyes. His long lashes cast shadows, as if this domestic bliss hurt his eyes. “Scarlett,” he took a deep breath, “you used to have nervous breakdowns and hated noise.” “Remember? To keep you comfortable, I once promised you we’d never have children in our home.” The children were competing to stuff leftover candy from their lunch into my mouth. My cheeks bulging, I looked up blankly and thought for a moment. “Did that happen? I don’t really remember.” “My husband and I both love kids. If I didn’t think giving birth was too hard, he’d want a third child.” As I spoke, I happily kissed each child on the face. Alexander’s body swayed slightly. He seemed about to say something, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. His phone was a foldable model, quite large. With a quick glance, I saw the caller ID. [Baby Wife] On the phone, Rose’s urgent voice came through, seemingly complaining about something. Alexander’s brow furrowed slightly, his tone showing some impatience: “I know, I know, I’ll come back now. You’re a grown woman, how can you not handle even this…” He said he was going home, but his feet didn’t move. I was the one who smiled and urged him: “Mr. Alexander, it looks like rain soon. Better head home quickly.” “Remember to replace the brake pads on that sports car as soon as possible.” Alexander gave a short hum, looked at me deeply once more, and finally strode quickly to his car. I breathed a sigh of relief and was about to send the children to the back room to play with blocks. But I discovered that Alexander had still quietly left that secondary card on the counter. I scratched my head in distress. No choice. I had to run to the police station after work that day with the card. “A customer named Alexander left his card at my shop. Can you help return it? After all, I don’t have his contact information.”

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My old wrist injury flared up at the French Open finals. But Lucas sent the medical team to Serena. She’d only sprained her ankle. After seven years together, his constant favoritism finally killed our relationship. He had sex with her in our bed. Then came the acid. A thug threw it at us. He didn’t hesitate. He shoved me aside to protect her. I was done. I posted about calling off our engagement. My longtime rival Griffin called. “Want to switch fiancés? How about me?” Stella’s POV France, Roland-Garros Stadium. On the clay court, I was drenched in sweat, my right hand trembling uncontrollably as I gripped the racket. A Grand Slam final. Match point. My old wrist injury had flared up. Piercing pain shot through my nerves, making it nearly impossible to hold the racket. During the mid-match break, I looked toward the family viewing section, my face pale. It was empty. My boyfriend of seven years, Lucas Luton, hadn’t come. Not only had he not come. The top-tier medical team he’d promised to accompany me hadn’t shown up either. “Your wrist needs immediate ice and physical therapy. Where’s your medical team?” My foreign coach asked anxiously. I lowered my eyes, pulled out my phone, and dialed the number I knew by heart. The phone rang for a long time before being answered. Lucas’s characteristically cold voice came through. “Is the match over?” “Lucas, my old wrist injury flared up.” My voice trembled slightly. “Why didn’t the medical team come to France?” A pause. Then he answered, his tone almost casual. “Serena sprained her ankle skiing the day before yesterday and has been very emotionally unstable. I wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone in the country, so I had the medical team stay to take care of her.” I felt like I’d plunged into an ice cave. Serena, Lucas’s mentor’s daughter. “She just sprained her ankle, and I’m playing in a Grand Slam final!” I bit my lip hard. “Lucas, you promised me that if I won this championship, we’d get engaged.” “Stella, can you not be so selfish?” Lucas’s voice turned cold. “Serena has been frail since childhood and can’t handle shocks. You’re in great physical condition. What’s the big deal about getting through one match without the medical team? We’ll talk about the engagement later. I need to accompany Serena for her checkup. I’m hanging up.” The dial tone cut through me like a dull knife. I took a deep breath, forced myself through the excruciating wrist pain, and walked back onto the court. But no miracle occurred. The severe injury caused me to make frequent mistakes. I ultimately lost 0-2, missing the most important championship of my professional career. At the awards ceremony, I held the runner-up plate in silence for a long time. Back in the locker room, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Serena. A photo. In the photo, Lucas was bending down, gently putting ice on Serena’s swollen ankle. His profile was impossibly gentle. A tenderness I’d rarely seen in seven years. The caption read: “My ankle hurts so much, but with Lucas here, it doesn’t seem to hurt anymore.” I stared at that photo for a long time, until my eyes felt dry and sore. I didn’t cry. I used to get angry. I used to argue. Every time I saw Lucas’s special care for Serena. But now? I just felt a deep sense of powerlessness. Seven years. I fell in love with Lucas at first sight when I was eighteen. To pursue him, I gave up the opportunity to study at a top tennis academy abroad and stayed in his city. Lucas was famously aloof in our circle. Cold and noble. Everyone said he had no heart, but like a little sun, I pestered him relentlessly until I finally warmed this block of ice. I thought I was special. Until Serena returned to the country. With just one phone call from Serena, Lucas could abandon me when I had a high fever. With just one word about being scared, Lucas could miss my birthday party. Now, even the most important final of my professional career, even the medical team I desperately needed. He could strip it all away without hesitation, just to treat Serena’s sprained ankle. I closed my eyes and turned my phone face-down on the table. So in Lucas’s heart, my dreams, my pain, my seven years of youth. None of it compared to one cry of pain from Serena. I stood up and carelessly stuffed the runner-up plate into my tennis bag. The pain in my wrist continued, but what hurt more was a heart that had gone completely cold.

Stella’s POV After more than ten hours of flying, I dragged my luggage back to the city alone. The moment I pushed open the villa door, deafening music hit me. The spacious living room had been transformed into a luxurious party. Champagne towers. Balloons. Streamers. A crowd of elegantly dressed guests. At the center of the crowd, Lucas stood in a haute couture suit, holding a wine glass, looking tenderly at Serena beside him. Serena wore a white designer gown like a proud little princess, holding a golden trophy. It was a championship from an amateur tennis club’s friendly match. “Lucas, thank you for throwing this party for me!” Serena smiled radiantly. Lucas reached out and ruffled her hair, his tone indulgent. “You deserve it.” Standing in the entryway, I watched this scene and found it utterly absurd. For my Grand Slam final, he wouldn’t even provide a medical team. For Serena’s amateur competition, he threw an extravagant party. My appearance instantly silenced the noisy living room. Lucas turned around. Seeing my face and the tennis bag in my hand, he instinctively frowned. “Why did you come back early? Didn’t you say you were staying in France for rehabilitation?” His tone held no concern, only displeasure at being disturbed. I didn’t answer, just looked at him quietly. Seeing this, Serena immediately walked over and spoke up. “Stella, you’re back! I watched your match. What a shame. you were so close. Don’t be too upset. Lucas said your psychological resilience is just too weak. You’ll do better next time!” Psychological resilience too weak? I laughed coldly. If not for the excruciating wrist pain without medical intervention, how would I have lost? “My business isn’t yours to comment on.” I gave Serena a cold glance. Serena’s eyes immediately reddened as she shrank behind Lucas, looking aggrieved. “Lucas, did I say something wrong and upset Stella?” Lucas’s face darkened. He pulled Serena behind him and scolded me harshly. “Stella, why are you taking it out on Serena? You lost the match because you weren’t good enough. Coming back here with that attitude. Who are you trying to impress?” Not good enough. Those four words coming from Lucas’s mouth felt like a resounding slap across my face. I took a deep breath, suppressing the bitterness in my heart. “Lucas, come upstairs with me.” Without waiting for a response, I headed straight to the second floor. A few minutes later, Lucas pushed open the bedroom door. He tugged at his tie, looking somewhat impatient. “What are you making a fuss about now? Serena finally won a championship, and you have to spoil it at this moment?” “When are you planning to arrange our engagement?” I looked directly into his eyes, not beating around the bush. Lucas’s movements paused. His eyes shifted away briefly before his face turned cold. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone? We’ll discuss it later.” “How much later is ‘later’?” “Stella, can you be reasonable?” Lucas’s voice rose several notches. “Serena’s depression has relapsed recently. The doctor said she can’t handle any stress. If we make a big deal about getting engaged right now, she won’t be able to handle it. My mentor entrusted her to me before he died. I can’t ignore her.” I laughed until tears nearly came. “She can’t handle stress, so I deserve to be mistreated? Deserve to have no official status?” “It’s just postponed, not canceled.” Lucas frowned, seeming to find me unreasonable. “When did you become so calculating? What happened to the understanding Stella from before?” Looking at this man before me, I suddenly felt he was completely unfamiliar. That understanding Stella had been killed long ago by his repeated favoritism and coldness. “Fine. I understand.” I looked away. Lucas, thinking I’d yielded, nodded with satisfaction. “Get some rest. I’m going downstairs to help Serena cut the cake.” The door closed, shutting out the laughter and joy from downstairs. I stood in the empty room, looking down at my slightly swollen right wrist, my heart growing cold.

Stella’s POV The next day, I went to the downtown hospital to have my wrist checked. The doctor looked at the scans with a grave expression. “Stella, your wrist has severe soft tissue damage. Because it wasn’t iced and treated immediately, chronic inflammation has now formed. You need at least three months of rest, or it will affect your professional career.” I listened silently, got my prescription, and left the hospital. Passing by a luxury residential complex downtown, I stopped the car. This was where Lucas had bought a large flat six months ago, saying it would be our future marital home. At the time, Lucas gave me the keys and let me handle all the renovations. I put a lot of thought into it, decorating the place in my favorite minimalist wood style. I took the elevator upstairs and pulled out my key to open the door. However, the lock made a “beep beep” error sound. The password had been changed. I froze for a moment, about to call property management, when the door opened from inside. Serena stood inside wearing silk pajamas. Seeing me, she also froze, then revealed a triumphant smile. “Stella? What are you doing here?” I looked at the pink slippers by the entrance and the pink sofa and curtains that had replaced my carefully chosen furniture in the living room. Blood rushed to my head. “Why are you here?” I stared at her intently. Serena blinked innocently. “Lucas didn’t tell you? My old apartment had poor security. Lucas was worried about me, so he let me stay in this place. Oh my, Stella, don’t mind. I’m just staying temporarily.” Temporary? They changed the password. They replaced all my furniture. And called it temporary? I ignored Serena and called Lucas. “Lucas, what’s going on with the Cloudwater Bay property?” On the other end, Lucas’s voice carried a hint of impatience. “Serena is all alone in the country with no one to rely on, and something happened at her previous apartment. I let her stay at Cloudwater Bay for a few days. What’s the problem?” “That’s our marital home!” I gripped my phone tightly. “It’s just a property. Do you need to make such a big deal out of it?” Lucas’s tone was self-righteous. “Serena has trouble sleeping and prefers warm tones, so I had the soft furnishings changed a bit. If you really don’t like it, we’ll just buy another place later.” Just a property. With one casual phrase, he erased six months of my effort and completely crushed my last bit of hope for this relationship. “Lucas, do you think that as long as it’s for Serena, I should yield no matter what?” I said calmly. “What are you making a fuss about now? I told you, I only see her as a sister!” Lucas impatiently cut me off. “I have a meeting soon. I don’t have time to listen to your unreasonable complaints.” The call ended. I looked at the screen. A sense of relief washed over me. Seven years of obsession. Gone in an instant. I didn’t spare Serena another glance and turned to enter the elevator. Back in my car, I pulled out my phone, opened Ins, and edited a post. “Engagement canceled. Seven years fed to the dogs. Now looking for a new fiancé. Any takers?” I clicked send and blocked Lucas. I thought this was just an emotional vent post that no one would take seriously. However, just three minutes later, an unfamiliar yet familiar number called. Griffin. Seeing that name, I froze. Griffin and I grew up together. We were also lifelong rivals. We fought from kindergarten all the way through high school, until college when I gave up studying abroad at a top tennis academy to stay in Lucas’s city, while Griffin went overseas. That’s when we lost contact. I’d heard he now ran the family business and had become the head of the country’s largest sports conglomerate. I answered the call. Before I could speak, a deep, magnetic male voice came through, with a hint of barely detectable nervousness. “Stella, if you want to switch fiancés, how about me?”

Stella’s POV The car interior fell deathly silent. I held the phone, taking a long time to find my voice. “Griffin, what kind of joke is this?” “I’m not joking.” The voice on the other end became utterly serious. “Stella, since Lucas doesn’t treasure you, let me. We grew up together. I absolutely won’t let you suffer even the slightest grievance.” I lowered my eyes, looking at my bandaged wrist. Seven years of love. I’d lost completely and utterly. But I, Stella, was never someone who would wallow in the mud. Since I’d decided to cut ties, I would cut them completely clean. “Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Give me half a month to handle things here, then I’ll come find you.” “You don’t need to come back.” Griffin laughed lightly, his tone carrying unquestionable authority. “I’m flying there tomorrow to pick you up. Your wrist needs the best doctors. I’ve already made arrangements.” After hanging up, a long-absent warmth surged in my heart. So this was what it felt like to be firmly chosen and properly taken care of. The next morning, I arrived on time at the “Starshine” tennis club where I was based. Just as I reached the manager’s office door, I heard Lucas’s voice. “Give the US Open wildcard to Serena.” Lucas’s tone was a command that brooked no refusal. I froze mid-reach for the door handle. Lucas’s Luton Corporation was Starshine Club’s biggest sponsor. The manager looked troubled. “Mr. Luton, this isn’t right. Stella earned that wildcard. Serena is an amateur. This…” “Stella’s wrist is injured. She needs to rest.” Lucas coldly interrupted him. “Serena’s been emotionally low lately. She needs a high-profile competition to rebuild her confidence. This is decided.” “Not only that,” Lucas paused, then continued, “Have Stella serve as Serena’s practice partner during this time and coach her technique.” Standing outside the door, I was so angry I had to laugh. Make a Grand Slam runner-up serve as practice partner for an amateur? And hand over the US Open wildcard I’d fought for with my life? Lucas, just how shameless could you be? I pushed open the door and walked straight in. Seeing me, Lucas showed no embarrassment at being caught. Instead, he spoke matter-of-factly. “Perfect timing. You heard what I just said, right? Your wrist can’t handle high-intensity matches anyway, so give the wildcard to Serena. The practice partner arrangement is for your own good too. Keep your touch.” I looked at this well-dressed, handsome man and felt my stomach churn. “Lucas, what makes you think I’d agree to such an absurd demand?” I looked at him coldly. Lucas frowned. “Stella, can you not be so selfish? Serena needs this opportunity!” “She needs it, so I must give it to her?” I walked to the desk, pulled a document from my bag, and slammed it down heavily. “This is my contract termination application.” I looked at the manager. “I’ll pay the penalty. Every cent.” The manager was shocked. “Stella, don’t be impulsive!” Lucas’s face instantly darkened. “Stella, you’re threatening me with termination?” “Threaten?” I smiled mockingly. “Lucas, you think too highly of yourself. I just feel that staying in a club that can’t even guarantee basic athlete dignity is disgusting.” “You!” Lucas shot to his feet, his eyes sharp. “Fine, very good! Stella, you’ve grown bold! Let me see which club dares sign a defective product with a ruined wrist!” “No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Luton.” I turned around, spine straight, and walked out of the office without a backward glance. Lucas watched my retreating figure and laughed coldly. I didn’t need to look back to know he must be thinking I was just throwing a tantrum and would come crying back to him within three days. After all, he thought I loved him that much.

Stella’s POV The termination was handled smoothly. Though the penalty was a huge sum, my prize money and endorsements over the years were enough to cover it. That afternoon, I returned to the villa and started packing my belongings. I packed clothes, rackets, and trophies into boxes one by one, my movements efficient and resolute. Just then, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Serena standing outside with several shopping bags, smiling innocently. “Stella, Lucas said you were resting at home today, so I came specially to see you.” Serena spoke while walking right in uninvited. She placed the shopping bags on the sofa, deliberately revealing a dazzling diamond bracelet on her wrist. “Stella, do you think this bracelet is beautiful? Lucas specially accompanied me to the mall today to pick it out. He said I wear it better than you ever could.” I glanced at the bracelet. It was the one I’d chosen last month, planning to use as an engagement gift. “Done showing off? Then get out.” I couldn’t even be bothered to give her an extra glance and continued packing. Seeing my reaction, Serena bit her lip, malice flashing in her eyes. “Stella, actually you packing up and leaving is the right thing to do. Lucas doesn’t love you at all. He’s just used to you throwing yourself at him. Now that I’m back, you should have known to make way.” I stopped what I was doing and looked at her coldly. “Serena, do you think picking up garbage I threw away is something to be proud of?” “You!” Serena was livid. Just then, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the villa. Several extreme fans wearing masks and carrying banners broke through the residential security and rushed toward the main gate. “Stella! You match-fixing fraud! Give us back our hard-earned money!” It turned out my loss in the French Open finals had caused some underground gambling extremists to lose money, and they’d come for revenge. The situation instantly spiraled out of control. At that moment, Lucas’s car pulled up at the villa entrance. He’d just gotten out when he saw the chaotic scene. “Lucas! Help!” Serena screamed in terror, stumbling as she ran outside. An extreme fan holding a glass bottle filled with unknown liquid aimed viciously at Serena and me. “Go to hell!” In that critical moment, Lucas rushed over. I was closer to him. I thought he’d pull me aside. But Lucas walked right past me. He pulled Serena into his arms and shoved me out of the way. “Serena, watch out!” I was shoved off balance and fell hard onto the gravel driveway. The bottle of unknown liquid splashed onto the wall beside us, releasing a pungent acidic smell and instantly corroding the paint. It was sulfuric acid! If I hadn’t reacted quickly and rolled to the side, that sulfuric acid would have splashed directly on my face. But my right wrist slammed hard against the sharp corner of a step when I fell. Piercing pain instantly engulfed my entire body. I broke out in cold sweat and nearly passed out from the agony. Security finally arrived and subdued the extreme fans. Lucas nervously checked over Serena in his arms. “Serena, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Serena cried, her face covered in tears. “Lucas, I was so scared.” After confirming Serena was unharmed, Lucas finally turned to look at me, sitting collapsed on the ground. I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Stella, are you okay?” Lucas walked over, looking down at me from above, his tone carrying irritated explanation. “You react fast and have good physical conditioning. Serena’s body is weak. She couldn’t dodge. I could only protect her first.” I raised my head, looking at this man I’d loved for seven years. The excruciating wrist pain reminded me that my professional career might truly be finished because of that push he just gave me. No anger. No hysteria. “I understand.” I steadied myself against the wall and struggled to my feet, not sparing Lucas another glance as I limped back into the villa. In that moment, I didn’t know if panic surged in his heart. I only knew that something was completely leaving me.

Stella’s POV The villa was terrifyingly quiet that evening. After Lucas calmed Serena down, he finally came home. I didn’t need to guess to know he expected my accusations and arguments. He’d already prepared his explanations. But the living room was empty. He went upstairs to the bedroom and pushed open the door. I sat at the vanity, clumsily rewrapping the bandage on my right wrist with my left hand. Lucas cleared his throat and spoke. “Today was an accident. To make it up to you, I booked your favorite restaurant. I’ll take you for a good meal.” I paused my movements but didn’t refuse. “Okay.” Half an hour later, we arrived at the restaurant. Pushing open the private room door, my steps halted. Serena sat inside. Seeing us, she smiled sweetly. “Stella, Lucas said you were frightened today, so he specially brought me to apologize to you.” I said nothing and pulled out a chair to sit down. Lucas called over a waiter and ordered a whole table of dishes without even looking at the menu. “Lobster, king crab, oysters…” All seafood. After the dishes arrived, Lucas pushed almost all the seafood in front of Serena. “You were scared today. Eat more to recover.” Serena thanked him shyly, then looked at me with only a glass of lemon water. “Stella, why aren’t you eating? This seafood is expensive. You probably can’t usually afford it, right?” I looked at the table full of seafood and smiled. Seven years. Lucas didn’t even know I was severely allergic to seafood. Or maybe he knew. He just didn’t care. His mind was full of only what Serena liked to eat. “I’m not hungry.” I stood up. “You two take your time. I’m heading back.” “Stella, what’s wrong with you now?” Lucas slammed the table, furious. “I take you out to eat, and you give me that attitude. Who’s that supposed to be for?” I looked at his angry expression and almost laughed. “Enjoy your food, Lucas. Don’t let it go cold.” With that, I walked out of the private room without looking back. Returning to the villa, I pulled out several large black trash bags. I swept it all into trash bags. The matching outfits Lucas bought. The necklaces. Even the matching toothbrush cups. Then I took down our photos from the wall and fed them into the shredder without a second thought. Finally, I took off the engagement ring I’d worn for three years. Lucas had bought it on a whim three years ago, after my first tour championship win, just to keep me happy. But I’d treated it like treasure. I set the ring on the living room table, using it to hold down a sticky note. The note had only one line. “Lucas, we’re done. I’m going home to marry someone else.” Then I dragged two suitcases out of the villa. The place that had trapped me for seven years.

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Roman Sterling was the undisputed king of New York’s elite social circle. Drinking, women, street racing, and bar fights—he was a master of them all. But after we started dating, he gave it all up. He treated me like I was his entire world. What he didn’t know was that I had already seen his texts: “I’m honestly bored to death with her. I’ve been looking at the same face for seven years; it’s beyond stale.” “The one I really want right now is you, my little songbird.” 01 The sun was scorching as we pulled up to the luxury bridal boutique. Roman took the umbrella from the chauffeur and held it over me himself. He was a Sterling. In his world, people existed only to serve him. But with me, he was the one doing the serving. In the beginning, his friends thought I was just a new flavor he was trying out. But as seven years passed, his devotion only grew more meticulous, leaving his inner circle in a state of perpetual shock. The boutique assistant greeted us with a voice full of envy. “Mr. Sterling, you and Ms. Thorne are truly goals.” Hearing this, Roman looked at me and flashed a boyish, seeking-praise smile. My heart felt like it was being pricked by a needle. I ignored his gaze and walked straight to the dressing room. Roman had pre-ordered fifteen of the latest couture gowns, each one hand-picked by him based on my specific tastes. As I went through the fitting, he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes so focused it felt like I was the only person in existence. One dress after another. I was losing my patience by the end, but he remained rapt, even offering the designer specific notes for alterations. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfection. The assistants gathered around me, whispering in hushed, envious tones: “Ms. Thorne, usually when guys come in for fittings, they’re on their phones by the third dress. I’ve never seen a man stay this focused from start to finish.” “You’re so lucky. He clearly adores you.” Adores me? I turned to look at Roman. When our eyes met, his expression melted into a soft, tender smile. It was a look of pure, watery devotion. He was a completely different person from the cold, ruthless “Prince of Wall Street” portrayed in the media. This was his “special treatment” for me. But if he really loved me, why was he keeping another woman in a secluded villa in the Hamptons? He called her his “little songbird.” What a cozy, intimate little nickname. 02 The fact that Roman Sterling was head-over-heels for me was common knowledge in Manhattan. Before us, he was the city’s most notorious playboy—clubs, scotch, models, and brawls were his oxygen. But the moment we got serious, he quit it all. Simply because I once said I “hated the smell of booze,” he stopped going to clubs and became a teetotaler, even at high-stakes business galas. He asked for my opinion before every social gathering and treated other women like they were a contagious disease. He was terrified of making me unhappy. Once, at a charity gala, a socialite made a snide remark about my background. Roman didn’t say a word; he simply had her and her entire family blacklisted from the city’s social register. I never saw her again. To prove his commitment, he went to his father and agreed to give up his reckless lifestyle to study the family business. He took over Sterling Global, something he had always sworn he would never do. For me, he made it look easy. That was when everyone finally realized—Roman wasn’t playing. It was me or nobody. It wasn’t surprising that his friends were confused. He was the heir to a multi-billion dollar empire, and I was just a rising news anchor. In terms of status, we were worlds apart. I used to fear his parents’ reaction, but when I first met his mother, she was surprisingly gracious. “Roman told me he’s settled on you. He said if he can’t have you, he doesn’t want anyone. He practically threatened me not to make things hard for you, or he’d never come home again.” “Clara, honey, I should thank you. Without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken for him to grow up.” I was shy and deeply moved. Moved by everything Roman had done for me. That night, he held me close and kissed my forehead, his voice deep and honeyed: “Clara, I love you.” I held him tight, believing I had finally captured a beam of permanent light in my life. But seven years later, this man who claimed to love me was talking to another woman. His tone was dripping with contempt. “Seven years. I’m exhausted. It’s reached the point where I’m just sick of looking at her.” “If my mother didn’t love her so much, I would have dumped her a year ago. But she’s so obsessed with me; she’d probably go insane if I broke it off. Hahaha.” “The one I really want right now is you, my little songbird.” Every word was a blade. And every blade drew blood. 03 By the time the dresses were finalized, the city lights were flickering on. Roman drove me home. He brewed me a cup of herbal tea to settle my stomach, his voice sounding a bit distant in the quiet living room: “Clara, I have an emergency board meeting to deal with. I’ll probably be back late. Don’t wait up for me.” I gently caught his sleeve. “Can’t you stay? Just this once?” He froze. I noticed him tapping his left hand—a nervous habit he had when he was calculating a lie. But finally, he shook his head and said softly, “This meeting is crucial. I have to go.” I stared at him for a long time, searching for even a flicker of guilt. There was nothing. “Baby, I’ll come straight back to you the second I’m done, okay?” He pulled me into a hug, whispering sweet promises. I masked the bitterness in my eyes and let a silent tear fall. “Okay. Go ahead.” He spent a long time soothing me. Before he left, he tried to kiss my cheek, but I turned away. He assumed I was just being pouty and gave a doting, indulgent chuckle. Then he turned and walked out without a hint of hesitation. I watched him go. A few minutes later, I grabbed my keys and followed him. The destination was a luxury villa on the outskirts of the city. I hid around the corner and watched as he punched in the entry code. A woman flew into his arms. She was dressed in a provocative black lace “bunny-maid” outfit, her voice purring with artificial sweetness. “Master, you’re finally here.” Roman’s eyes were dark with hunger. He leaned down and kissed her deeply before lifting her up and carrying her into the house. I stood outside that villa for a long time. Until my blood felt as cold as the night air. 04 In reality, I wasn’t surprised by Roman’s plans tonight. Their chat history went back three years. It started with: “Mr. Sterling, thank you for the ride home. I guess I can check ‘riding in a CEO’s passenger seat’ off my bucket list now.” “No problem.” And it ended yesterday: “My little bird, I’m taking her to pick out wedding dresses tomorrow. I’ll come to you at night. Wear the outfit you bought for me.” “Understood, Master~” Attached was a photo of the woman on her knees in that lace outfit. I had only been holding onto a final, pathetic shred of hope. I thought that if I begged him to stay, he might choose me. But he didn’t. He didn’t even feel a second of remorse. 05 By the time Roman returned home, I was sitting on the sofa in the dark. I wasn’t waiting for him. I just felt so suffocated that I couldn’t sleep. He entered the house quietly, trying not to wake me. But when he turned the corner, he saw me staring at him, unblinking. He was startled. Seeing my haggard face and the dark circles under my eyes, he looked devastated. “Clara? Why are you still up? I told you not to wait for me.” He took my hands and found my fingers were ice-cold. His voice took on a sharp edge of protective anger: “Clara, why don’t you listen? Your hands are freezing, and the AC is up too high. Are you trying to get sick?” It was rare for him to snap at me. And even then, it was out of concern for my health. In that moment, a wave of nausea rose in my chest. I couldn’t get it out, and I couldn’t swallow it down. Especially the scent of her perfume clinging to his coat—a cloying, cheap floral scent that wouldn’t dissipate. It felt like a hammer was smashing against my heart. Over and over. Until everything was a bloody, mangled mess. I realized I didn’t want to play pretend anymore. I was the victim. I was the one betrayed. Why was I the one enduring the silence? I looked up at him, cutting off his lecture. “Roman, I saw them.” “The texts between you and her.” 06 I hadn’t intentionally snooped through his phone that day. We had been together for seven years. I believed he loved me, and I gave him my trust. But that night, I woke up suddenly for no reason. Roman was dead to the world after pulling overtime, and I saw his phone light up on the nightstand. I was worried it was a work emergency, so I checked it. The first thing I saw was: “Daddy, were you satisfied with last night’s service?” Followed by several explicit photos. My hand shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone. My brain went white. My first instinct was denial. I couldn’t believe Roman would do this. But my fingers kept scrolling through the logs. Page after page. Month after month. They talked so frequently that it took me over an hour to reach the beginning. It started three years ago. “Mr. Sterling, thank you for the ride. I finally know what it feels like to be the CEO’s favorite.” “Also, thank you for having dinner at my place.” The timestamp was March 25th, 9:10 PM. I remembered that day. It was my birthday. Roman had been three hours late. I had waited for him at home with a cold dinner. He had told me it was a crisis at the office and apologized profusely. Of course, I didn’t blame him. I even comforted him and told him to rest. Now I knew. He was driving a female employee home and staying for dinner. That was the “crisis.” The atmosphere must have been wonderful. Wonderful enough to make him forget I was waiting for him. Wonderful enough to make him abandon every promise he ever made to me. 07 Since that day, Seraphina had been promoted to his personal assistant. Even though they spent every day together, the texting never stopped. It evolved from professional questions to life trivialities, and finally to a full-blown affair. Roman would drop her off before picking me up from work. He solved her problems at the office and fired the male supervisor who gave her a hard time. Whenever he bought a gift for me, he bought an identical one for her. When Seraphina complained about the commute, Roman bought her a condo right next to the office. She was so “grateful” she offered him “thanks.” That was the first time they slept together. “Daddy, I’m waiting for you.” “On my way.” The location was a hotel just a few blocks from our penthouse. What was I doing at that moment? I remembered. I was packing Roman’s suitcase. He told me he had to fly to London for a week. When he didn’t come home that evening, I called him. He told me he’d be home soon. His voice was slightly out of breath. He was probably in bed with her right then. And I had no clue. I was such a fool. Fool enough to notice nothing. Fool enough to keep believing in him. That night, I don’t know how long I sat there. I read those logs over and over. Finally, I replied to Seraphina’s message with three words: “I was satisfied.” Then I deleted the message. I pretended nothing had happened. But I knew Seraphina saw it. And she knew it was me. That’s why she started texting me their meeting times anonymously. And I went. I saw with my own eyes how this man, who constantly whispered “I love you,” looked when he was desperate to get his hands on another woman. 08 The dim light of the living room cast long shadows across Roman’s face. He looked genuinely confused. “Clara? What texts?” I repeated them for him, my voice flat and clinical: “Seven years. I’m bored to death.” “The one I want is you.” “She’d probably go insane if I left.” With every word, the color drained from his face. By the end, he was gripping my wrist so hard he was shaking. He begged me: “Clara, stop. Please, stop.” I looked down at him, my tears finally breaking free. “Roman, when you were with her, did you think about me even once?” “If you were really tired of me, you could have just said so. Did you think I would beg you to stay?” “Seven years. We were about to get married. How could you do this to me? How could you lie to me for three years?” My questions, my sobbing, my heartbreak—none of it could match the agony in my soul. It felt like my heart was being roasted over an open flame. Half charred, half raw. It hurt. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. 09 In truth, I hadn’t cried when I first saw the logs. Or the photos. Or even when I saw them together. I couldn’t cry then. I didn’t know what I was crying for. But now, seeing Roman act like he still cared… I knew him. His concern for me was real. And that was what made it so disgusting. My sobs echoed through the quiet penthouse. Over and over. Roman panicked and pulled me into a fierce embrace, his voice cracking: “Clara, I’m sorry. I was possessed. I swear I only love you. She was just a distraction, a mistake. Please, I’ll make it right—” In the past, whenever he messed up, he’d put on this pitiful act, and I would always cave. But not this time. I pushed him away, slowly and firmly. “Roman, it’s over.” His eyes went red instantly. He looked like he was about to collapse. “Clara, I don’t accept that—” “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” That one word made Roman turn as white as a sheet. He instinctively pulled his hands back. I looked at him for a long time, then gave a cold, hollow smile. “Give this back to your little songbird.” “I don’t want it anymore.” I slid the 5-carat engagement ring off my finger and dropped it into his palm. My fingertips were like ice. He instinctively tried to close his hand, but he was too slow. I stood up, walked into the bedroom, grabbed the suitcase I had packed days ago, and walked toward the door without looking back. I heard his frantic footsteps behind me, but he stopped six inches away. His voice was a broken rasp. “Clara, can’t you forgive me just this once?” I paused. But I didn’t turn around. “Goodbye, Roman.” 10 After leaving, I moved into my own apartment. My father passed away in an accident when I was young. My mother remarried when I was ten and had my half-sister, who is now seventeen. The apartment I moved into was an inheritance from my father that my mother transferred to me when I turned eighteen. She loves me, of course, but she loves my little sister more. That’s just how it is. I understand it. I’ve always made it a point not to disturb her new life. Our relationship could be described in four words: Civil, but distant. Breaking up with Roman and canceling a high-society wedding was a major event. I made an appointment with her and went over to tell her a few days later. On my way out, I accidentally bumped into a shelf and broke a ceramic figurine. I took one look at the shattered pieces and closed the door. I told her exactly why we broke up. I didn’t hide a thing. She was silent for a long time before she spoke: “Clara, you spent seven years with him. You turned him from a bratty playboy into the CEO he is today. Are you really just going to hand all that over to another woman? Does that feel right to you?” I was stunned. She continued, “You have leverage now. He’ll never dare to cheat again. And Roman hasn’t announced the breakup yet, which means he still wants you. That other girl is just a toy.” “Everything is still salvageable as long as the news doesn’t get out.” She was analyzing the situation with the cold precision of a computer. But she didn’t sound like a mother. I looked at her and suddenly asked, “Mom, if my sister’s boyfriend cheated on her, would you tell her the same thing? Would you tell her to swallow the betrayal for the sake of ‘leverage’?” “Of course not—” She stopped abruptly, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. “Clara, that’s not what I meant—” I knew. I knew she wasn’t trying to hurt me. She just… didn’t love me enough to be angry for me. Because she didn’t care as much, she could be “rational.” If it were my sister, she would have been screaming for blood. I should have known this by now. But it still stung. I gave a faint smile. “I get it, Mom.” Before I left, she looked at my haggard face, and a flicker of genuine pity appeared in her eyes: “Clara, you need to take care of yourself.” I hadn’t even responded when a girl’s voice called out from the other room: “Mom! I’m hungry!” My mother’s face lit up instantly. She closed the door and headed back inside. “Coming, princess! Dinner’s already on the table—” Her voice was pure sugar. She didn’t look at me again. I blinked my dry eyes and walked away. 11 When I got home, the ceramic figurine was still lying on the floor. Shattered. I picked up a piece. On the bottom, there was an inscription: “Roman loves Clara. Forever.” It was a gift from our first date. It was Father’s Day, and Roman had crowded into a “paint-your-own-pottery” shop with a bunch of kids. He looked ridiculous and adorable. Someone had even recognized him and posted a video online. At the time, his reputation was trash. He changed girlfriends as often as he changed shirts. I was immediately labeled “The Sterling Heir’s Newest Toy.” I didn’t care about the labels. But he did. He immediately contacted the media to have the video removed and created his first public social media account to announce our relationship: “Clara is the boss. I’m her toy.” The internet went wild. I went to him and told him he didn’t need to demean himself for me, that I didn’t care about the gossip. “Clara, this is about respect.” “I don’t even let myself hurt you; why would I let anyone else? I want you to stand in front of the cameras with your head held high. I won’t let anyone stain your reputation.” I still remember his expression then. Focused. Sincere. Devoted. Even though everything was a mess now, I couldn’t deny that in that moment, he really did love me.

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