My husband, Carter, had a first love named Jessica. Once, Jessica got into a shouting match with a guy over a minor biking accident. To help her vent her frustration, Carter abused his power as a police captain and threw the man in a holding cell on bogus charges. That petty act of favoritism left the man with a criminal record and a heart full of venom. Sometime later, that same man kicked down the door to my in-laws’ house. He held Carter’s parents and his younger sister hostage with a hunting knife, demanding that Carter show up and apologize. Panicking, I called Carter. But he was too busy picking up Jessica’s son from kindergarten. Not only did he refuse to believe me, but he also cursed me out, calling me a vicious, jealous bitch. He said my lies were pathetic and asked who I was putting this show on for. In desperation, I dialed 911. The emergency dispatcher who answered the call was none other than Jessica. Over the line, she laughed at me. She called me a lunatic, accused me of cursing Carter’s family, and labeled me a psycho. She warned me to never call again, threatening to have Carter arrest me for making a false report. Eventually, the intruder lost his mind waiting for Carter. Right in front of my eyes, he brought his hunting knife down on my in-laws and my sister-in-law. 1 I went to visit my husband’s parents for our usual weekly dinner. The moment I pushed the front door open, I froze. A stocky man in his fifties was standing in the living room, clutching a serrated hunting knife. His wild eyes locked onto me. “Do not take another step! You walk in here, and I kill them all!” On the living room floor, my father-in-law Arthur, my mother-in-law Helen, and my sister-in-law Sarah were bound tightly with thick rope. The man had his heavy work boot pressed firmly against Arthur’s head. Seeing me, Arthur struggled to lift himself up. The man immediately delivered a brutal kick to Arthur’s stomach. “Don’t move! You twitch again, and you are the first to die!” He pointed the bloody tip of the knife at my chest. “Stay back! Who are you? Where is that bastard Carter?” “He locked me up. Because of him, my son got rejected from the military, and my daughter lost her college scholarship. He ruined my entire family. If he does not come here and fix this today, I am going to slaughter his.” It hit me. This was Gary. Jessica had gotten into a minor scrape with him while riding her bike. To play the hero for his ex-girlfriend, Carter used his badge to charge Gary with assault and locked him up. Carter had even bragged about it to me at home. Now Gary was out, and he had come for blood. His screaming echoed down the hall. Neighbors began creeping out of their apartments, crowding the stairwell in absolute shock. Seeing Gary’s hand shaking with rage, I held my hands up slowly. “Gary, please. I am Carter’s wife. Do not do anything stupid. I am calling him right now. I will make him come here.” My hands trembled violently as I pulled out my phone and dialed Carter’s number. When he finally answered, I frantically explained the nightmare unfolding in his parents’ living room, begging him to get there immediately. Instead of panic, Carter’s voice dripped with absolute disgust. “Rachel, are you mentally ill? I am helping Jessica pick up her kid for one afternoon, and you invent a horror story like this?” “Jessica has a shift at the dispatch center today, so I promised to take Tyler to the amusement park. Stop annoying me.” Click. He hung up. Because my phone was on speaker, Gary and every neighbor in the hallway heard every single word. Whispers broke out behind me. “What kind of son is that? He is a cop, and he won’t even save his own family?” “Did you hear him? He is busy playing daddy to another woman’s kid.” “He is worse than an animal. Arthur raised a monster.” Gary’s face twisted into something demonic. Seeing him grip the knife tighter, I dropped to my knees on the hardwood floor. “Please! I am begging you, please do not hurt them!” I slammed my forehead against the floor, ignoring the sharp pain. “I will get him here! Give me a few more minutes, please!” Carter wasn’t answering anymore. I had no choice but to call the station. I dialed 911. The line clicked open. “911, what is your emergency?” The voice belonged to Jessica. Carter had pulled strings to get her a temp job at the emergency dispatch center. I didn’t care who it was. I screamed our address and told her a man was holding Carter’s family hostage with a knife. “Get Carter here now! If he doesn’t come, his parents and sister are going to die!” A cold, mocking laugh echoed through the receiver. “Rachel, have you completely lost your mind? Just to stop Carter from spending time with my son, you are cursing his own parents to die? You really are a wonderful wife.” “The emergency line is not your personal drama hotline. If you fake another report, I will have you thrown in a cell.” The line went dead. The neighbors behind me saw what happened and immediately pulled out their own phones to call 911. Every single one of them was met with Jessica’s threats and hung up on. Realizing Carter was never coming, Gary completely snapped. “Fine! He ruined my family, so nobody gets to live!” Gary grabbed a fistful of Arthur’s gray hair, yanked his head back, and dragged the hunting knife across his throat. Blood coated the living room. 2 Gary ran. After slashing Arthur’s throat, he drove the blade deep into Helen’s chest. Both of them died on the floor. I only managed to throw myself in front of Sarah. In his psychotic rage, Gary wanted to make Sarah suffer. He slashed her face open, then drove the knife straight through her hand, pinning it to the floorboards. He ran out the door waving the bloody knife. The terrified neighbors scattered, completely powerless to stop him as he disappeared into the busy city streets. By the time I got Sarah’s bleeding body into the emergency room, the local police finally showed up at the hospital. Deputy Blake walked up to me. He looked at the harsh red light of the operating room, his face pale with horror. “Rachel, what the hell happened? Why didn’t you call us?” I sat slumped in the corner of the hallway, shivering uncontrollably. “I did. The dispatcher said I was making a fake report.” “I called your captain. He was too busy picking up a kid.” Blake looked confused. “A kid? What kid? You and the Captain don’t have kids.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “Not mine. Jessica’s kid.” “She was the one on the 911 line. She told me I was crazy and threatened to arrest me.” Blake slammed his fist into the hospital wall. “This is completely insane! I am calling him right now.” He pulled out his radio phone and dialed Carter’s personal number. When Carter picked up, Blake didn’t hold back. “Carter, where the hell are you!” Carter’s tone immediately turned hostile. “Blake, remember your rank. I am the Captain. You don’t get to interrogate me.” “I am at the airport terminal. Make it quick, I am busy.” “The airport? What the hell are you doing at the airport?” “I have been working too hard, and the station is quiet. Jessica and Tyler have been begging to go to the Bahamas. I took my annual leave to take them on a vacation to relax.” Blake let out a hollow, furious laugh. “Carter, your mother and father are dead. Your sister is currently bleeding out in an operating room. And you are taking a vacation? Is your brain rotting?” Carter scoffed over the line. “Blake, I thought we were friends. I can’t believe you are teaming up with my psycho wife to play this sick joke.” “Do not think I don’t know you guys orchestrated this. What did Rachel promise you to make you curse my family like this?” “I am spending the next few days with Jessica and her boy. Do not call this number again.” The call disconnected. Blake tried calling back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail. The phone was off. At that exact moment, the red light above the operating room flicked off. 3 The surgeon pushed through the swinging doors, peeling off his bloody gloves. “Family of Sarah Winston?” I scrambled to my feet. “I am. I am her sister-in-law.” The doctor looked utterly defeated. “We saved her life. But the laceration on her right cheek was extremely deep. It is going to leave a severe scar. As for her right hand… the tissue and nerve damage was catastrophic. We had no choice but to amputate at the wrist.” “She lost a massive amount of blood. She is in a coma and being moved to the ICU.” In a fraction of a second, every ounce of strength evaporated from my bones. The fluorescent lights blurred, the room spun, and I collapsed backward. A couple of nurses caught me under the arms and guided me to a plastic waiting chair. Sitting there, the tears finally broke loose. Carter and I had been married for five years. I had moved across the country for him, leaving my own family behind. Whenever Carter and I fought, Arthur and Helen always took my side. Sarah treated me like her own flesh and blood. Whenever Carter made me cry, Sarah would literally point her finger in his face and scream at him. They never let me feel alone in that house. I loved them far more than I ever loved Carter. And now, because of Carter’s pathetic ego and his obsession with another woman, he had personally handed his parents a death sentence and mutilated his own sister. I dragged my exhausted body to the billing counter and paid for Sarah’s ICU room. Standing behind the thick glass pane, looking at the vibrant, college-graduated girl reduced to a broken body covered in bandages and tubes, my chest caved in. She didn’t even have her right hand anymore. Blake called Carter’s phone until his battery died. It stayed off. He tried calling Jessica’s number. It rang twice and then went to voicemail. They were fully committed to their romantic getaway. I didn’t have the energy to care about his affairs anymore. Aside from giving statements to the detectives, I had to arrange a funeral for my in-laws and keep a 24-hour watch over Sarah. The gruesome double homicide had already made the local news. The rumor mill was working overtime. I stayed awake for two days straight until Sarah finally opened her eyes. When she saw me through the ICU glass, tears poured down her bandaged face. The doctors warned me to keep her stress levels low, so I lied and told her to focus on healing, hiding the truth about her parents. Three days later, the medical examiner released the bodies. I arranged the cremation. Walking out of the crematorium, I placed two wooden urns on the back seat of my car. I started the engine, looking at the polished wood in the rearview mirror. “Dad, Mom, we are going home.” 4 Sarah was young, and her physical recovery was fast. By the fifth day, she was moved to a regular room. When I finally broke the news about her parents, she didn’t scream. She just stared at the wall and gave a slow, numb nod. I was terrified the shock had broken her mind. “Sarah, please cry. Do not hold it in. I am right here. I am not going anywhere.” She slowly turned her head. She stared into my eyes with a chilling emptiness. A long minute passed before a gut-wrenching wail tore from her throat. I wrapped my arms around her trembling shoulders, holding her tight. “Let it out. I’ve got you.” Because she was sobbing so violently, the stitches on her face tore open. I had to run to the hallway and scream for a doctor. As the doctor methodically re-stitched her torn cheek, Sarah laid there perfectly still. Her calmness was terrifying. “Rachel, where is my brother?” she asked bluntly the moment the doctor left. “Sarah, he…” I stammered, completely lost on how to explain the disgusting truth. “Forget it. You don’t have to say it.” Sarah let out a ragged sigh. “When that guy kicked our door down and tied us up, screaming about my brother, I knew Carter had ruined someone’s life.” She covered her eyes with her remaining hand, her body shaking. “I just never thought he would let Mom and Dad die for it.” I had temporarily placed the urns in my home office. I was waiting for Sarah to be discharged so we could bury them together. She was their daughter; it was her right to be there. As for Carter, I truly did not care if he lived or died. Even if you ignored the two dead bodies and the severed hand, his blatant affair was enough to make my skin crawl. I could never sleep in the same bed as him again. Now, every time I heard his name, all I saw was the gaping wound on Sarah’s face, the ocean of blood on the floor, and the absolute despair in Arthur’s eyes before the knife fell. I sat in silence, holding her shoulder. “Rachel,” Sarah whispered into the sterile hospital room. “After all this, do you still consider me your family?” I nodded hard. “Yes. I will be your sister for the rest of my life. Once you are healed, I will take you to the best plastic surgeons in the country. We will fix your face.” “Rachel, I heard you on the phone that day. I heard everything he said.” Her voice turned to absolute ice. “I want him and that bitch to burn in hell.”

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On our wedding anniversary, I unexpectedly found a pair of provocative lingerie in my wife’s car. Seething with anger, I drove directly to her law firm. As I approached the lounge, I overheard her conversation with her colleagues. “Ms. Shaw always seems so buttoned-up, I never expected her to be so wild in private,” a male voice teased. Another person chimed in, “Didn’t you know? Ms. Shaw and her childhood friend signed an agreement. As long as he’s not married, she has to help him with his ‘needs’.” “Poor Noah Vance, he still thinks Ms. Shaw is frigid,” someone laughed. My wife took a sip of coffee, her tone casual. “It’s fine. He’s been going on dates recently. Once he gets married, I’ll make up everything I owe him.” “Noah’s going to have a rough time after that, hahaha…” Everyone burst into laughter. I clamped my hand over my mouth, barely stifling a sob. 1 Walking down the street, utterly distraught, I couldn’t even remember how I got home. I smashed our wedding photo, staring blankly at the shattered fragments scattered across the floor. I don’t know how much time passed before Amelia Shaw’s voice came from behind me. “Noah, what are you doing?” She walked closer, her brows furrowed as she looked at the broken glass. “I know I’ve been busy with work lately and haven’t had time for you.” She continued, “But didn’t I say I’d make it up to you properly in a few days? Do you have to be like this?” I crouched on the floor, picking up the pieces of the wedding photo one by one. My finger was cut by a sharp edge of glass. A bead of blood welled up, dripping onto the white tile floor like a tiny red flower. I stared at the drop of blood for a few seconds, feeling no pain. My heart had shattered long before my finger. Amelia stood behind me, sighing. She pulled a tissue from the coffee table and offered it to me. “Alright, stop picking it up.” I didn’t take it. She then rummaged through a drawer, found a bandage, and bent down to put it on my finger. “I know I’ve neglected you lately; that’s my fault.” Her voice was soft, and her slender fingers wrapped around mine. “Once this busy period is over, I’ll take you to the Scottish Highlands, okay?” She asked, “Haven’t you always wanted to see the snow?” I looked at her, her expression earnest as she tried to soothe me. I wanted to laugh. And I wanted to cry. Three hours ago, I had heard her colleagues joking in the lounge. “Everyone knows about Ms. Shaw’s agreement with her childhood friend. As long as he’s not married, Ms. Shaw has to take care of his ‘needs’.” And now, she was still putting on an act for me. “Noah, Noah, are you listening?” I nodded. “Yeah, Scottish Highlands.” My voice was so flat it sounded alien even to me. Amelia probably thought I had calmed down and reached out to help me off the floor. Just then, the bedroom door opened. Harold Borle emerged from inside, wearing only a silk robe and rubbing his eyes. His hair was disheveled, his clothes unkempt. There were several glaring red marks on his neck and collarbone. Harold paused slightly when he saw us in the living room. Then he quickly pulled at the lapel of his robe, covering the marks on his neck. But his expression showed no panic at all. In fact, a faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips. “Amelia? Noah?” He tilted his head, his voice soft and sweet. “When did you two get back?” Amelia’s face changed. She glanced at me. Then she quickly walked over to Harold, whispering something to him. I couldn’t hear what she said. But I saw Harold pout, tugging at her sleeve, and whispered back, sounding wronged, “But I was asleep.” He added, “It’s all your fault for wearing me out.” As he said this, he deliberately glanced in my direction. My temples throbbed. Blood seeped from the edges of the bandage, dripping down between my fingers. I heard my breathing grow heavier and heavier. That phrase echoed repeatedly in my mind: “Poor Noah, he still thinks Ms. Shaw is frigid.” Frigid. I had been married to Amelia for five years. On our wedding night, she said she was too tired and told me to go to bed early. Every night after that, she was either working late, or entertaining clients, or simply slept in the study. I thought she was naturally low on desire. I was considerate of her, never bringing it up myself. To avoid putting any pressure on her, I even kept myself fully dressed at home. And what was the result? She wasn’t frigid. She just didn’t want to touch me. All her energy and passion were reserved for the man in front of me. I took one step forward. Then another. Harold Borle was still pretending to be innocent behind Amelia. I rushed forward and slapped him hard across the face. The sound was crisp and loud, echoing in the spacious living room. Harold shrieked, clutching his face as he stumbled backward. Amelia’s reaction was faster than I expected. She spun around, shielding Harold completely behind her. Then she turned back to me. Her gaze was so cold it sent chills through me from head to toe. “Noah, what the hell is wrong with you?” She demanded, “Harold was just staying the night; did you really need to hit him?” I stared intently at her back, shielding Harold. Five years. She had never once protected me with such a stance. “Staying the night?” My voice trembled. “Amelia Shaw, look at his neck. And then look at whose clothes he’s wearing.” Amelia’s frown deepened, her gaze avoiding mine. “What nonsense are you talking about?” Harold peeked out from behind her, his eyes red-rimmed, biting his lip in a pathetic display of hurt. “Amelia, darling… you misunderstood…” Harold huddled in Amelia’s arms, his body trembling slightly. He raised his hand, pressing it against his slightly red and swollen cheek. Tears began to stream down. “Amelia, it hurts so much…” He whimpered, “If Noah can’t stand me, I’ll leave right now… I don’t want you two to argue because of me…” His tear-streaked, pitiful act successfully provoked Amelia. Before I could react, she suddenly grabbed my wrist. I felt a tremendous force, and my body was brutally flung backward. My lower back slammed hard against the corner of a cabinet behind me. Intense pain instantly swept through my entire body. I gasped, my legs gave out, and I nearly crumpled to the ground. I gritted my teeth, desperately holding on, refusing to fall. Amelia clenched her fists, her voice cold. “Apologize to Harold Borle.” I looked up in disbelief, my eyes bloodshot. Apologize? Why should I? I practically screamed. “Never!” I yelled. “Why should I apologize to a pathetic excuse for a man who slept with someone else’s wife?” The moment I finished speaking, a flicker of anger crossed Amelia’s eyes. Her face was ashen. “Noah, I know you’ve never liked Harold Borle.” She took a step forward. “But there’s nothing going on between us.” Her thin lips parted, her gaze evasive. “Do you really have to use such vile words to insult him?” “Nothing going on?” “Amelia Shaw, do you think I’m an idiot?” I almost laughed aloud. I turned and walked into the walk-in closet, dragged out a suitcase, and started throwing clothes into it. My hands were shaking, and the items were stuffed in haphazardly. Amelia followed me to the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. “Think carefully,” her voice came from behind me, icy cold. “Once you walk out that door, don’t even think about coming back.” My hand paused. Then I zipped up the suitcase and stood up. “Couldn’t ask for anything better.” Harold Borle’s soft sobs echoed from the living room. As I dragged the suitcase past them, I heard Harold whisper, “Amelia, darling, go after Noah. It’s all my fault…” Amelia didn’t move. I knew she wouldn’t follow. It was raining outside. A heavy rain. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. The wheels of the suitcase rolled through puddles, soaking my pant legs. I didn’t start crying until I walked out of the complex gates. Not for Amelia, but for these five years of my life. So foolish. Truly so foolish. The next morning, I went to the law firm to collect my personal belongings. I had worked as Amelia’s assistant for three years. Calling myself an assistant was a stretch; it was more like doing odd jobs. Serving tea and water, organizing files, greeting clients. The partners treated me as if I were invisible, openly mocking my marriage behind my back. And I, like an idiot, thought they were just being polite to me. The underground garage was quiet. I clutched a bag containing certificates and personal documents, looking down for my car keys. The sound of leather shoes echoed from afar. Clack, clack, clack. I looked up. Harold Borle stood leaning against my car, wearing a white shirt. He looked at me, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Noah, already leaving?” He tilted his head. “What a shame… Married for five years, and you probably never even saw all of your wife, did you?” I tightened my grip on the document bag, walked around him towards the driver’s seat. But he followed, his leather shoes clicking, and leaned close to my ear. “Let me tell you, Amelia is wild in bed.” He whispered, “It always lasts for hours.” He paused, then adopted a look of feigned realization. “Oh, my bad, you wouldn’t know.” My hands were shaking. “If that’s all you have to say,” I said, my voice strained. “Please, leave.” I opened the car door expressionlessly. Harold Borle suddenly rushed over, snatched the document bag from my hands, and dumped its contents into a puddle nearby. “What are you doing?!” I rushed to pick them up. The documents were already soaked in dirty water, the ink bleeding. “Smack!” “Smack!” Two sharp sounds came from behind me. I spun around. Harold Borle was forcefully slapping his own face. Once, twice. Hitting himself with extreme brutality. Within seconds, his cheeks were red and swollen. Then he directly collapsed to the ground, letting out a heart-wrenching scream. “Help… Stop hitting me… Noah, please stop hitting me…” Hurried footsteps approached from a distance. Amelia Shaw rushed from the garage entrance. She had originally been walking. Hearing Harold Borle’s screams, she immediately ran over, frantic. Harold Borle scrambled into her arms, burying his face in her shoulder. “Amelia, darling… I just came to tell Noah not to leave…” He whimpered, “But he not only hit me… he said he was going to kill me…” Amelia looked down at Harold Borle’s swollen face, and her entire demeanor changed. She strode over to me and snatched the car keys from my hand. “Noah.” Her voice was devoid of any warmth. “I thought a night to cool off would make you think straight.” She sneered. “I never imagined you could be so vicious.” “Amelia, he hit himself—” “Enough!” Her scream echoed through the garage. I clamped my mouth shut. The remaining words stuck in my throat, unable to be swallowed. She wouldn’t believe me. Never would. “Kneel.” Amelia stood before me, her face expressionless as she spoke the word. “Apologize to Harold Borle. Apologize until he forgives you.” My entire body froze. Kneel? She told me to kneel? “Amelia, he slapped himself! Check the surveillance—” “The surveillance cameras on this floor of the garage are broken,” Harold Borle suddenly blurted out from behind her. I turned to look at him, my fingers unconsciously clenching. He had deliberately chosen this spot. He had known there were no cameras here all along. “Amelia, darling…” Harold Borle began again. He softened his body, slowly sliding downwards. “My head feels a bit dizzy… Noah’s hitting me… it seemed pretty bad…” Amelia immediately rushed over, carefully supporting him. After a quick look, Amelia’s face became extremely grim. She turned and walked towards me. One hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head back. “Smack.” A slap landed on my face. My head buzzed. A second. A third. My lip was cut, and the taste of blood spread in my mouth. “Ame—” “Shut up. I don’t want to hear your excuses right now!” She kept hitting me. I don’t know how many slaps it took, but my knees gave out first, and I fell to the ground. Amelia stepped back, looking down at me as I knelt. “Those slaps are a lesson for you.” She warned. “If I ever find out you try to hurt Harold Borle again…” She crouched down, bringing her face close to mine. “Don’t test my patience.” She stood up, walked to Harold Borle, and bent down to help him up. Harold Borle leaned on her shoulder, mouthing a silent message to me. “Serves you right.” The engine started. The tires crunched over the puddles on the ground. Mud splashed all over my face and clothes. I knelt on the ground, my clothes covered in blood, water, and mud. The documents were scattered everywhere, completely ruined. The underground garage was empty, the lights stark and pale. I tried to get up. My arms were useless. I tried twice but couldn’t stand, falling back down. My vision began to blur. It was exhaustion. Or perhaps my heart had died, and my body simply refused to move. Through the haze, blinding headlights flashed. A black Maybach silently pulled up in front of me. The car door opened. A pair of hands lifted me from the ground. I smelled a faint, woody perfume. So clean. Utterly out of place in this dirty environment. Before I completely lost consciousness, I heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice.

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1 When my birth parents found me, they swore they would treat me and the imposter who had taken my place with absolute equality. We wore the same designer clothes, attended the same university, and were even married off to a set of twin brothers. It all fell apart the day the headlines screamed that the imposter’s husband was having an affair with a famous actress. In response, my parents called my husband over. And they arranged a mistress for him—a young, beautiful secretary. This, they said, was a special favor to me. The secretary had a clean background and, crucially, was infertile. She would never threaten my position as the wife of the younger Covington heir. I didn’t lose my temper. I just picked up my phone and called for an entire club’s worth of escorts. I told my family, “Why stop at one? If we’re going to do this, let’s do it with style. And if that’s not enough, I can always call for more.” My brother, Tristan, scowled, accusing me of being too extreme. He insisted our parents were only looking out for me. “Scarlett is prettier and more accomplished than you,” he sneered. “If even her husband cheated, what makes you think you can hold on to your marriage?” I nodded slowly, looking him straight in the eye. “He’s right. I can’t. So I’m done.” “I don’t want the husband. And I don’t want any of you, either.” … My father’s hands trembled with rage. “You wretched girl! How could you say something so heartless to your own family?” My mother’s eyes welled up as she clutched her chest. “Seraphina, we searched so long for you. How can you throw us away so easily?” Tristan’s voice was a furious hiss. “You’re nothing but an ungrateful brat!” Just then, a breaking news alert flashed across the television screen. “Sources report that Ms. Scarlett Blackwood, heiress to the Blackwood Corporation, jumped from the balcony of her marital home at five o’clock this afternoon…” The camera showed Scarlett, pale as a ghost, being loaded into an ambulance. She’d jumped from the fifth floor, but right into the swimming pool below. She didn’t even have a scratch on her. But my parents and Tristan were already in a full-blown panic. “Hurry! Get the family hospital cleared out! I want the best team of specialists on standby!” I watched their frantic retreat, then calmly walked to the window. “Scarlett jumped. So I’ll jump, too. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” I made a move to climb onto the sill. Three terrified screams ripped through the air behind me. They scrambled back, yanking me away from the window with frantic strength. My mother clung to me, sobbing hysterically, while Tristan pinned my arms. My father slammed the window shut, locked it, and then, turning back, he slapped me hard across the face. “Seraphina, how dare you use suicide to threaten us?” Tristan and my mother froze. It was the first time any of them had laid a hand on me since they’d rescued me, covered in wounds, from an illegal sweatshop. My mother was the first to react. “What are you doing? You scared her! Apologize to Seraphina right now!” But I just stared at them, my cheek burning, my voice eerily calm. “You slapped me.” “So now you have to slap Scarlett. To be fair. Right?” All three of them stared at me as if I were a lunatic. My father’s voice shook with fury. “You’ve lost your mind!” I smiled. A broken, empty thing. “Isn’t this what you’ve been teaching me all along?” When they first brought me home, they spent a full week brainwashing me. They said they’d raised Scarlett for twenty years and loved her too deeply to send her back to her impoverished biological family. But they made a solemn vow: they would be perfectly, absolutely fair. Neither of us would ever feel neglected. And they kept their word. If Scarlett got a new haute couture gown, an identical one would appear in my closet. The family assets and company shares were divided equally between us, down to the last cent. If Tristan made a sarcastic remark to me, my parents would immediately force him to repeat the exact same words to Scarlett. Their love was perfectly distributed. No need to fight for it, no need to guess. After seeing so many online dramas about real and fake heiresses tearing each other apart, I once thought this arrangement was for the best. But then, everything soured. Scarlett hit her rebellious phase. She got into fights at school and started dating some dropout with bleached hair. My parents were heartbroken. As punishment, they made her kneel in the cold, dusty family chapel—and they dragged me there to kneel beside her. Their reasoning was flawless, in their eyes. “We share the good times and the bad. That’s what a real family does. That’s what’s fair.” Later, Scarlett flunked her college entrance exams. While my parents comforted her, they were also tearing up my acceptance letter to a top-tier university. They sent me to the same third-rate arts college abroad that Scarlett was going to. I’d studied sciences my whole life, but they changed my major to Arts Management, the same as hers. “You and Scarlett will both be taking over the family business someday, so it doesn’t matter what you study,” they’d said. “But we promised to be fair, which means you must receive the exact same education.” I knew something was deeply wrong. But after a childhood of being passed around and treated like dirt, I was desperate for a family. I couldn’t bear to let go of this fragile, imitation warmth. At least, I told myself, they were trying to be good to me. That delusion lasted until Scarlett became obsessed with Damien Covington, the eldest son of the Covington dynasty. And Damien, conveniently, had a twin brother, Daniel. My parents gave me no choice. They arranged my engagement to Daniel. Our weddings were set for the same day. Scarlett and I wore identical gowns and carried identical bouquets. The venue, the ceremony, even the seating charts for the guests were perfect mirror images of each other. When the priest read the vows, I saw Scarlett beaming with pure joy. But all I felt was a wave of nausea. Today, when they so casually tried to arrange a mistress for my husband, I finally understood the source of that feeling. Their idea of fairness wasn’t about treating me as an equal. It was about turning me into Scarlett’s living duplicate. But there was one thing they didn’t know. I had a way out. I’m not from this world. 2 I was transmigrated here. The System that brought me gave me one mission: to collect affection points from the three members of the Blackwood family. I was close to maxing them out. When I told the System I was giving up, it tried to reason with me. “Host, the affection points don’t lie. They truly care about you.” Before I could argue, my parents and Tristan had dragged me into the car and were speeding toward the hospital. “Are we going so I can be admitted alongside Scarlett?” I asked dryly. “We wouldn’t want her to feel an imbalance, after all.” The atmosphere in the car turned to ice. All three of them looked horrified, but they didn’t dare scold me again. My mother took my hand. “Seraphina, we’re bringing you because we’re a family. Scarlett will need your support.” Her voice softened. “We were wrong before. We hurt you, and it will never happen again.” Just as she finished speaking, Tristan’s phone rang. It was the hospital. Scarlett was pregnant, but the shock of her “jump” had put the pregnancy at risk. The doctors said she couldn’t handle any more stress. My father slammed on the brakes. “Seraphina, you never liked the smell of hospitals, did you? Why don’t you go do some shopping? Clear your head.” My mother pressed a black card into my hand. “Buy whatever you want. Take your time.” Tristan opened my door and practically pulled me out of the car. “Don’t you dare go near Scarlett and cause a scene,” he warned. “She can’t take it right now.” The car sped away, leaving me on the curb. I held the card and asked the System, “Did their affection points go up?” There was a long, strange silence. “…They went up a little.” I laughed, a humorless sound. “It seems your sensors aren’t very accurate. It’s confusing guilt for affection.” “Now,” I said, my voice hardening. “Initiate my exit protocol.” This time, the System didn’t hesitate. “Exit protocol confirmed. Initiating…” I walked into the nearest luxury department store and, for the first time, chose an outfit based on my own taste. I had just changed when Tristan called. His voice was urgent. “Get to the hospital. Now. You need to tell Scarlett that you’re pregnant, too.” “If you can convince her not to terminate her pregnancy, I’ll make Mom and Dad officially add your name to the family trust! I swear!” I was about to refuse, but he cut me off, his voice exploding with rage. “Seraphina Blackwood! I knew it! You’ve always been jealous of her!” “She’s fragile! If she goes through with an abortion, it could destroy her health!” “It’s just a little lie! It’s not like it’ll cost you anything!” No, it wouldn’t cost me a piece of my flesh. But it would cost me my freedom. They would lock me in the house to “gestate” alongside Scarlett. We would wear the same maternity clothes, eat the same nutritional meals. They’d probably even want our weight gain to be identical. Then, after ten months, they would find some random baby and hand it to me. But none of that mattered anymore. I was leaving. I looked up at the hospital looming in the distance. “What I mean is,” I said into the phone, my voice calm, “I don’t need my name on your family trust.” Tristan was silent for a second, then his voice dropped to a menacing growl. “You better not pull any stunts.” Inside the VIP hospital suite, my parents were fussing over Scarlett, who was propped up in bed. When they saw me walk in, their faces filled with worry and apprehension. Before I could say a word, Scarlett snatched a fruit knife from the bedside table and lunged, aiming for my stomach. “I don’t want this baby,” she shrieked, “and I won’t let you have one either!” 3 I didn’t dodge. I even grabbed her hand, guiding the blade, and pushed it deeper into myself. The System had warned me that a self-initiated exit would result in punishment. But there was a loophole: if I died as a direct result of the abuse from the Blackwood family, I would not only be freed but also receive compensation. I watched as my parents and Tristan rushed toward me, their faces contorted in horror. They were screaming for doctors, their hands fumbling to press against the bleeding wound. For the first time, Tristan’s face was a mask of pure, helpless confusion. A small smile touched my lips. Looks like I wasn’t going to die. Not yet. When I woke up, all three of them were by my bedside. They looked haggard, with dark circles under their eyes. Seeing me awake, Tristan spoke first. “Dad already slapped Scarlett.” I gave a faint “mm.” That small sound was like a spark to a powder keg. Tristan shot to his feet, his voice a low roar. “She cried all night because of that slap! The stress almost made her miscarry! And that’s all you have to say? What more do you want?” “I don’t want anything,” I said quietly. My father sighed heavily. “Seraphina, I’ll transfer a portion of Scarlett’s assets to you as compensation. You won’t be at a disadvantage in this, I promise.” My mother dabbed at her eyes. “Scarlett didn’t mean it, darling. She was just… overwrought…” I ignored them, my voice distant as if recalling a dream. “When I first came here, I got a kitten.” “Scarlett was playing with it, and it scratched her face.” “You said that to be fair, you had to do the same to me. You held the cat down and scratched my face with its claws.” “Then you had the cat put down.” The room fell into a dead silence. They were frozen, speechless. Finally, Tristan broke the silence, veins bulging in his neck as he yelled, “That’s not the same thing!” “Dad already promised you compensation! And besides, you’re fine, aren’t you?” Just then, the doctor walked in. “The patient had to have a hysterectomy. The family needs to be vigilant about preventing post-operative infections.” I slowly turned my head to look at the three statues standing by my bed. I smiled. “So, how are you going to make this fair?” My mother stammered, “S-Scarlett’s child will know you as their godmother… when you’re old, they’ll take care of you…” A laugh, sharp and self-mocking, escaped my lips. “So the assets you’re giving me as ‘compensation’ will ultimately go to her child anyway.” They opened their mouths, desperate to explain, but I cut them off, closing my eyes. “I was just kidding.” “I trust you. I trust that you will always be perfectly fair to both me and Scarlett.” 4 Tears welled in my parents’ eyes. They moved to embrace me, but I pushed them away. “I only have one request now.” “I want my own birthday.” “For the last ten years, I’ve had to share my birthday with Scarlett.” “I just want to eat a cake that’s all mine.” “I just want to hear you say ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, and only me.” They agreed without a moment’s hesitation. Racked with guilt, they planned a party of extravagant proportions. Every detail was dripping with luxury. And it was all kept a secret from Scarlett. The System’s voice echoed in my mind. “Are you… starting to feel reluctant to leave them?” I shook my head. Before the System chose me, I was an orphan with no one in the world. But it had shown me the original Seraphina’s memories from before she was lost—a life filled with warmth and genuine love from her family. That’s why I had agreed to come here. I believed they truly loved their daughter. For ten years, I waited, hoping to see a flicker of that love from the memories return. But I was done waiting. On the day of the party, just as I expected, Scarlett showed up. Her face was a mask of pure malice. “Do you really think Mom and Dad love you?” she hissed. “They found you years ago. But I was having a hard time, throwing tantrums, hurting myself. They were worried about me, so they decided not to bring you home. It was the same week your foster father almost…” She let the word hang in the air. “They only came for you later, when you were about to be beaten to death in that sweatshop, because they had no choice.” “But they promised me. They promised they’d use ‘fairness’ as an excuse to make sure you were always one step beneath me.” I looked at her, my expression unreadable. “Are you finished?” Scarlett’s face contorted with rage. “You just wait. In a minute, I’m going to ‘accidentally’ fall down the stairs and tell everyone you pushed me. Let’s see how calm you are when Mom and Dad throw you out!” I grabbed her wrist. “No need to pretend,” I said. “I’ll make it real for you.” And with all my strength, I shoved her down the grand staircase. My parents and Tristan, drawn by the noise, arrived just in time to see Scarlett tumble. My father lunged at me, his foot connecting brutally with the fresh stitches on my abdomen. The force sent me flying over the second-floor railing. I landed in the living room, crashing directly onto the five-tiered birthday cake. Cream and strawberry filling flooded my mouth. It was sweet. Just like the happiness I had always imagined. In the ensuing chaos, Tristan still remembered to have the guards drag me to the basement. “We’ll deal with you when we get back!” he roared. The basement was dark and cold. No one remembered me. Three days later, they finally returned, muttering about how they were going to punish me. But when they opened the basement door, all that greeted them was the thick, cloying stench of decay. From the cake. And from me.

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A two-week trip to the Caribbean had been just what I needed, the endless blue of the sea and sky slowly mending the fractures in my soul. Then the text message came, shattering the peace. It was from her. Her tone was a familiar blend of urgency and unquestionable entitlement. “My mom needs surgery. You’ve got savings, right? Get over here and pay for it.” Her words were a needle, instantly puncturing the fragile calm I’d carefully rebuilt. I stared out at the turquoise water, my fingers slowly tapping out a reply. “For something like that, you should probably ask your new husband.” My mind drifted back two weeks, to the moment I’d found the marriage certificate in her purse. The document felt like a brand against my skin. The man in the photo beside her was grinning, a dazzling, triumphant smile. And I, her boyfriend of five years, suddenly felt like a complete and utter fool. I didn’t shed a tear. I didn’t scream or demand an explanation. I just quietly zipped her purse shut, pretending I’d seen nothing. The next day, without a second thought, I booked a flight to the Caribbean, turned off my phone, and vanished from her world. 1 After sending the text, I immediately dragged Ava’s number into my block list. The screen went blessedly silent. I placed my phone face down on the arm of the deck chair, severing all ties to that other world. The salty air, thick with the unique humidity of the tropics, washed over my face. In the distance, the azure sea churned with white-capped waves, stretching to the horizon. But my world had been cleaved in two by that small, official document. The phone vibrated against the armrest, a persistent buzz against my fingertips. I didn’t need to look. I knew it was her. When her calls wouldn’t go through, she resorted to a barrage of texts. The first was a question. “Nathan, what the hell? Did you block me?” The second was pure rage. “Don’t you forget how my mom treated you! She’s lying in a hospital bed while you’re off living it up. Do you have a conscience?” The third was softer, tinged with a flicker of panic. “Nate, please, stop messing around. My mom really needs this money. I’m begging you.” I picked up the phone. The screen’s glare stung my eyes as I read the messages, and five years of memories flooded back, threatening to drown me. I remembered when we first graduated, crammed into a tiny studio apartment in the worst part of town. I’d used my first paycheck to buy her a suit for an interview. She’d hugged me so tight, her eyes shining like stars, and promised that one day she’d get me the house of my dreams. We did eventually move into a new place—a three-bedroom condo in a great neighborhood. The down payment was $200,000. I put in my entire life savings, $150,000 earned over three years of grinding. Her family scraped together the other $50,000. Both our names were on the deed. This is our home, she’d said. But that home was now the marital home she shared with another man. I remembered paying for her sister’s college tuition and living expenses. Her dad would always praise me on the phone, saying their family was blessed to have a son-in-law like me. Now, those words felt like a series of sharp slaps across my face. I wasn’t their son-in-law. I was a tool, a workhorse dutifully pumping money into their family. A convenient partner. A fool who was bankrolling their family’s financial security. A gaping hole opened in my chest, and a cold wind howled through it. I took a deep breath and called my best friend, Zack. He picked up on the first ring. “Nate, my man! The financial wizard finally decides to rejoin the living! I was starting to think some island beauty had kidnapped you.” My voice was calm, so calm it felt alien. “Zack… Ava got married.” The other end of the line went dead silent. For a full thirty seconds, there was nothing. Then Zack’s roar nearly shattered my eardrum. “She what? Who the hell did that snake marry? What about you? What the hell happened?” “The groom wasn’t me.” I gave him the short version, from finding the certificate to her text demanding surgery money. Zack exploded, a torrent of curses that would make a sailor blush. “That monster! That goddamn leech! She sucks you dry for five years, and now she wants you to pay her mom’s medical bills? The absolute nerve!” “Nathan, I’m serious, you get on the next flight back here. I’ll get some guys, and we’ll go down to that hospital and unplug her mom’s damn oxygen!” His fiery rant actually helped. The suffocating weight on my chest seemed to lift a little. “Easy, man,” I said, my own voice steady. “I’m not going to let this go.” “So what’s the plan? Don’t you dare go soft on me. Any kindness to a person like that is just cruelty to yourself.” I watched the setting sun paint the sea gold, and my gaze turned to ice. “Don’t worry. I’m not a fool.” “Five years isn’t something you can just erase with a few words.” After hanging up, I went back to my hotel room and took out my laptop. I opened an encrypted Excel file. The title read: “Shared Living Expenses.” It was a professional habit, a meticulous record of every major expenditure. Every single dollar I had spent on Ava and her family over five years was logged here, clear as day. The mortgage payments, of which I paid two-thirds. Her sister’s tuition, $15,000 a year. The $20,000 I gave them to renovate their parents’ house. Gifts and cash for holidays and birthdays, totaling over $30,000 in five years. And then there were the countless daily expenses, a dense, endless list that filled the entire screen. I calmly typed a final line at the bottom of the spreadsheet. “Grand Total: $285,750.00.” The number burned my eyes, sharp and painful. So that was what my love was worth. No. It was worthless. I closed the laptop and walked out onto the balcony. The sea breeze whipped through my hair. It was time. Time for a final, ruthless accounting of a love that was now dead. Ava’s text-bombing stopped after I blocked her. I figured she assumed I was just throwing a tantrum and that, once I cooled down, I’d come crawling back like always, ready to clean up her mess. She was so used to me giving, she saw it not as a gift, but as her due. She had miscalculated badly. The next morning, just after a refreshing dive, a call came through from an unknown number. The area code was from my city. I answered but said nothing. A familiar, sharp voice, laced with a pathetic whimper, came through the line. “Nate, son, it’s me.” It was Ava’s father. His voice sounded weary and wronged, as if he were the most injured party in the world. “What’s wrong with you, boy? We couldn’t reach you. Didn’t you know Ava’s mother is sick? How can you be so heartless?” He launched straight into accusations, not even bothering to ask why I hadn’t answered. He’d already found me guilty. I could picture him perfectly, putting on his best “I’m so disappointed in you” face, ready to pass moral judgment. I’d heard it a thousand times over the last five years. “Nate, Ava has a demanding job, you need to be more supportive.” “Nate, the family is counting on you.” “Nate, our Ava is so lucky to have found you.” It all sounded like a sick joke now. I didn’t get angry. I just held the phone, listening to his award-worthy performance. “Did you and Ava have a fight? There’s nothing a young couple can’t talk through. What’s this nonsense about running away from home? Do you have any idea how worried she is?” “Her mother is lying in a hospital waiting for money for an operation, and you’re off on vacation.” “You get yourself back here right now and pay that bill. Whatever the problem is, I’ll sort it out for you.” Every word was a poison-tipped dart, aimed at a place in my heart that used to be soft. Now, it was plated in steel. I waited until he had vented, until he had run out of steam, before I spoke. My voice was soft, but every word was crystal clear. “Sir, are you aware that Ava is married?” His tirade stopped cold, as if he’d been choked. I could hear his sharp intake of breath, followed by a dead, ringing silence. I didn’t give him time to recover. I continued, my pace steady and deliberate. “And her husband isn’t me.” That sentence was a bomb, and it detonated on the other end of the line. After a long moment, her father found his voice. It was dry and shrill. “What… What nonsense are you spouting? Which little tramp has been whispering lies in your ear?” He didn’t believe it. Or rather, he refused to. His first instinct wasn’t to question his daughter, but to attack me, the messenger. Pathetic. “You can ask your perfect daughter if I’m lying.” “I saw the marriage certificate with my own eyes. The guy in the photo is a lot better looking than me, too.” “Right now, your concern shouldn’t be whether an outsider like me is coming back to pay her bills.” “It should be whether your brand-new son-in-law is willing to foot the bill for his new family.” I finished and, without giving him another chance to speak, hung up. The dark screen reflected my emotionless face. I could only imagine his shock and rage. He would call Ava immediately. A storm was about to break within their family. And all I had to do was sit here, enjoy the sea breeze, and watch the show. Ava, this is just the beginning. You owe me. And I’m going to collect every single cent, with interest. My dignity and my money. I’m taking it all back. A friend request from a “Marcus Thorne” popped up on my social media the next afternoon. The profile picture was a guy in a flashy suit at what looked like a black-tie gala. I accepted. A message came through instantly. “Nathan? My name is Marcus Thorne.” Polite. Formal. As if we were strangers. I didn’t reply, just watched the screen. My silence didn’t seem to bother him. A second message appeared. “I know it’s presumptuous of me to contact you, but I wanted to apologize for the situation with Ava.” Apologize? That was a new one. Did he think stealing someone’s fiancée could be smoothed over with a two-word apology? “Ava told me everything. She said she tried to break up with you for a while, but you wouldn’t accept it. I understand. Five years is a long time, and it’s natural to have trouble letting go.” His wording was clever. In just a few sentences, he’d painted a picture where he was blameless. Ava had tried to end it. I was the clingy ex. And he, Marcus Thorne, was the innocent party caught in the middle. What a piece of work. I still didn’t reply, just tapped my finger on the back of my phone, enjoying his sad little one-man show. When I remained silent, Marcus finally got to the point. His tone shifted from fake sympathy to smug superiority. “To be honest, my parents weren’t thrilled about me and Ava at first. You know, our family’s situation… They felt she wasn’t from the right background.” “But Ava really loves me. She stood up to all that pressure for my sake. She told me she’s never loved anyone the way she loves me.” “She even gave me her debit card to manage for her. And the renovations on our new condo? All done exactly to my taste.” He sent a picture. It was the “home” we had planned together. The sofa I had picked out, the design blueprints I’d stayed up all night drawing, the decor I had slowly accumulated. Now, in the center of the living room in the photo, hung a massive wedding portrait of him and Ava. She was nestled in his arms, her smile radiant and sickeningly sweet. It was a declaration of ownership. A brutal, slow-twisting knife for the ex-boyfriend. An invisible hand squeezed my heart, a suffocating ache. But I showed nothing. I just looked at the photo and saved it to my phone. Marcus’s performance wasn’t over. “Nathan, I know you’re a smart guy. Ava chose me. She chose the future my family can give her. Let the past be the past.” “Dragging this out will only make things more awkward for everyone, especially you.” There it was. The final blow. Everything before this was just a warm-up. He was telling me to back off gracefully. “Oh, by the way, I heard Ava’s mom is sick? Ava’s been really worried about it.” “If you’re willing to give her the money you two saved together to help with the medical bills, I’ll consider it your severance package.” “After all, you were with her for five years. We can’t let you walk away with nothing, can we?” Severance package? Using my money as my own severance package? I actually laughed out loud. Was this guy for real? Was he that naive, or just that stupid? He must have thought I was the same pushover who did whatever Ava wanted. That he could buy me off with a pittance of my own money. I didn’t read any further. I took a long screenshot of the entire chat history. Then, I sent him my first and last reply. “Screenshotted.” After sending that one word, I blocked and deleted him. I had no interest in a war of words. It was pointless. The best way to deal with a smug idiot like him was to let him fall headfirst into the pit he’d dug for himself. And these screenshots were the first shovel of dirt I was going to throw on his grave.

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I once believed the five years Victor gave me were a testament to true love. He laid the best of the world at my feet. It wasn’t until I was holding the positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy and ready to surprise him, that I stumbled upon the truth. Everything he had done, every grand gesture, was a calculated move to help his sister steal the man I truly loved. When I confronted him, Victor offered me two choices, as if tossing scraps to a beggar: take ten million dollars and disappear forever, or pretend nothing had happened and continue to bask in the warmth of his “love.” Everyone thought I would choose the latter. After all, I had loved him so deeply. But without a moment’s hesitation, I chose the money. That’s when Victor truly panicked. He grabbed my hand, his voice cracking as he pleaded, “Zoe, why can’t you just love me one more time?” I pulled my hand away and told him, my voice calm and steady, “Victor, I don’t want you anymore. This time, I’m choosing to love myself.” 1 For thirty consecutive days, Victor had sent me extravagant, one-of-a-kind gifts. Today, he burst through the door covered in blood, cradling a single, delicate flower in his hands. I recognized it. It was the same type of flower that had been the only splash of color in our bleak world that winter we lived under a bridge. “Zoe, the flower, it bloomed again! I brought it back for you!” His face was alight with a desperate hope, as if this single blossom could erase all the darkness between us. I watched him, my expression a mask of ice. The light in his eyes slowly died. Without a word, he forced a smile, found a vase, and placed the flower on the windowsill where I often sat. I wanted to tell him that his smile was more painful to look at than any tears. Two of his bodyguards rushed in after him, their faces etched with anxiety. “Mr. Augustine, you’re injured! You need to go to the hospital, now!” A drop of blood trickled from his forehead and landed on a pristine white petal. “Zoe, I’ll wipe it off,” he said, his voice frantic. His hands were smeared with blood. I remembered that winter, how he had tried to pick one of those flowers for me then, too. He’d scratched his hands and twisted his ankle in the process. I had thought those were scars of our love. Now I knew they were just part of the act, another scene in the play designed to win my devotion. My gaze was cold. The crimson on the white petal was jarring. “Don’t bother,” I said. “Once it’s stained, it’s stained.” I turned to my housekeeper. “Mrs. Gable, throw it out.” Victor’s hand froze mid-air. His face went white as he watched Mrs. Gable take the vase and toss the flower out the window. He wanted to stop her, but he was powerless. He turned back to me, that painful smile returning. “Zoe, I’ll… I’ll come back tomorrow?” It was a placating question, an attempt to pretend this horror wasn’t happening, just as he had always done after hurting me. The once-dashing tycoon, now covered in mud and blood, looked pathetic. I sighed, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Victor, don’t come back. I never want to see you again.” He stumbled, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from his body. But his guards caught him, and he managed to straighten up, that awful smile still plastered on his face. “You must be tired, Zoe. Get some rest.” Then, as if fearing another rejection, he practically fled. Mrs. Gable looked from his retreating back to me, then went outside and retrieved the flower, placing it back on the windowsill. “I don’t know what happened between you two,” she said, her tone reproachful, “but I can see that Mr. Augustine is truly sorry. He really loves you. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive him?” I looked at her, my smile full of a weary sadness. “But, Mrs. Gable,” I whispered, “I don’t have the chance to forgive him anymore.” That very morning, I had lost my sense of taste completely. 2 Five years ago, two men stood before me, and I chose Victor. We were together for five years. At our lowest, we lived under a bridge, scavenged for food, and slept under the open sky. I was with him through poverty and despair, all the way to his triumphant return, when he reclaimed his family’s empire. For those five years, he would have given me the stars from the sky and the moon from the water. He made his devotion to me a public spectacle, a love so grand it overshadowed even the affection he had for his precious sister, Amelia. I believed it was real. Until… The day I found out I was pregnant. I rushed to find him, the test results clutched in my hand, ready to share the joyful surprise. But I found him with Amelia wrapped in his arms. “Victor,” she was saying, “Noah finally proposed! Thank you. If you hadn’t sacrificed yourself to win over Zoe, I might have waited forever for this day!” Victor stroked her hair, his smile gentle. “As long as you’re happy, my sacrifice was worth it.” A lightning bolt struck, and all the strength drained out of me. The pregnancy test slipped from my fingers, but I felt nothing. [Host, you have failed.] Years ago, I had gone against the System’s warnings and changed my mission target to him. The System had been clear: [He is not your destined one. Failure to complete the mission will result in your annihilation.] I had traversed many worlds, completed many missions. This was the first time I had ever let personal feelings interfere. “I want to make a choice for myself, just once,” I had told the System. I lost. I accept that. But… I laid a hand on my flat stomach. A new life was growing there, a life I had yearned for. “Can’t you…” [No! You know the rules!] I laughed, covering my eyes as hot tears streamed through my fingers. 3 In the private room, everyone was celebrating Amelia’s engagement and Victor’s “liberation.” “Vic, once Amelia marries into the Sterling family, Zoe will be useless. What are you going to do with her?” “Hey, how about you give her to me? I’m not ambitious. I just want a taste of the woman who could captivate Noah Sterling and keep you entertained for five years…” “Get lost!” Laughter filled the room. My tears had run dry. I looked at the people inside and pushed the door open. The room fell silent. When they saw it was me, strange, knowing smiles spread across their faces. I’d seen those smiles before, but only now did I understand their true meaning. It was the look of the wealthy elite observing a plaything they had tired of. Victor’s hand, holding a glass of wine, paused. He looked at me, his eyes devoid of emotion. “You heard?” “Yes.” “How much?” “Everything.” A brief, tense silence. Everyone looked at Victor, waiting to see how he would dispose of his “plaything.” He set his glass down, his voice cold and unfamiliar. “Two choices. One, take ten million dollars and disappear. Never show your face in front of Noah Sterling again. We go our separate ways.” “Or two…” He paused, walking over to me. He gently stroked my hair, the coldness in his eyes replaced by a deep, seductive affection. “You can choose to stay with me. We’ll pretend this never happened. I’ll continue to be good to you.” The same old tenderness, as if nothing had changed. Amelia couldn’t help but let out a sneer. “Zoe, you really are pathetic.” Everyone, including Victor, probably thought I would choose the second option. After all, I had loved him so much. I had stayed with him when he had nothing, living under a bridge for six months, surviving on instant noodles for three, ruining my health to the point that getting pregnant was a miracle. I looked at the man I had loved with all my heart for five years and managed a faint smile. I took a step back, out of the warmth of his hand, away from the embrace I had once craved. “I choose option one.” 4 The answer stunned everyone. Victor’s face changed, his hand freezing in mid-air before slowly clenching into a fist. By the time he tucked it into his pocket, his expression was once again cool and detached. I suppose it didn’t really matter to him. One plaything gone, another could be found. He was a prince, after all, his pride untouchable. “Since it’s your choice, I respect it.” I walked out of that room like a zombie. … Back at the villa, I began to put my affairs in order. That evening, Victor arrived with his friends to move his things out. “This villa was bought for you,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s yours.” I didn’t look up, just grunted in acknowledgment. He stood there for a long moment, waiting for a reaction. When he got none, he stormed upstairs, the sounds of him packing echoing through the house like angry thunder. I ignored it. I was busy writing, trying to jot everything down before my memory failed me completely. Mrs. Gable had taken care of this house for years. She was getting older and had arthritis. I would leave most of the cash to her, hoping she could live out her remaining years in comfort. My neighbor, a woman starting her own business, needed designer clothes and bags to make a good impression. She had borrowed from me before, always returning them with a small gift, her face flushed with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. I understood her struggle. I had been there, too. Victor had bought me countless designer items over the years, most of which I’d never even used. They would all go to her. The jewelry, I decided, would be donated to charity. I doubted Victor would object. My biggest worry was Pip. He was a stray dog we’d adopted during our time under the bridge. A scruffy mutt of indeterminate heritage, with a perpetually messy coat, a bad temper, and a comical underbite. If I was gone, what would happen to him? Who would tolerate his moods, who would love him despite his scruffy appearance? Pip and Victor had been close. I considered leaving him with Victor, but Amelia despised him. She only liked purebred show dogs and would openly kick Pip away if he got too close, even in front of me. If I were gone, all it would take was a word from her, and Victor would probably abandon him. Pip was old. How long would he survive on the streets? I stroked the fur of the dog curled at my feet. “Maybe you should come with me, Pip? At least you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore…” For a moment, I understood the mothers in the news who took their own lives and their children’s with them. I quickly pushed the horrifying thought away. I would ask my friends at the dog park. Surely one of them would take him. Lastly, I signed an organ donation form. In the end, I would leave nothing of myself behind in this world.

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1 That evening, a message popped up from the kid my mother was sponsoring. He sent a sheepish text explaining that he’d changed our Wi-Fi password when he came over to drop something off for Evelyn. He said he was just bored. He followed it up with a string of letters: CluelessOldFossil. I remembered how the Wi-Fi had suddenly cut out earlier that day, flashing a “wrong password” error. I’d asked Evelyn about it, but she just said it was probably a glitch. She was buried in her work, so I let it go. I didn’t reply to his text. That night, I had dinner with Evelyn, just like always. The next day, I changed the password again. At the morning meeting, I made a point of looking right at the kid. “By the way, the new Wi-Fi password is ‘HomeWrecker.’ Make sure you type it in right next time.” … Evelyn held it together for the entire day. The moment we got home, she exploded. “What the hell was that at the meeting this morning? Now everyone at the office thinks something is going on between me and Liam. Are you happy now?” “So you admit he was in our house while I was gone,” I said, my eyes fixed on the financial news flickering across the TV. I didn’t have to look at her to picture the storm brewing on her face. A second later, she stormed over and snapped the TV off. “Don’t forget, you’re the one who got him the job. He’s an employee, and he was here to deliver work files. What’s the big deal?” she shot back. “And what about that time on the bus? You humiliated him in public. Did you even once think about how that made me feel?” That time. I’d seen it with my own eyes: the cool, ever-composed Evelyn, squeezing onto a crowded city bus right alongside Liam. The old me would never have been able to imagine such a scene. For our anniversary last year, I’d planned a sunset bike ride. It was supposed to be romantic. Instead, she trailed me in her sports car, practically idling, watching me pedal by myself like an idiot. Finally, she’d just rolled down the window and said, “God, could you be any more cliché?” The memory soured in my mouth, and I fought to keep the rage out of my voice. “How long has it been going on between you two?” Silence stretched between us. She tilted her head back and let out a long, weary sigh. “I told you, it’s just work. Do you have to turn everything into a fight?” She paused, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “You’re becoming more and more like your father. Always looking for trouble where there isn’t any.” My blood ran cold. Eight years ago, my mother began sponsoring Liam and his mom. My father became convinced they were having an affair. The suspicion drove him mad. He slit his wrists in the bathtub. The water turned a deep, sickening crimson, spilling over the edge to lick at my feet. It felt scalding, and my whole body shook. Evelyn rushed over when she got the call. She wrestled the blade from my hand as I tried to follow him, her arm taking the cut meant for me. She just held me, repeating over and over, “It’s okay, it’s okay…” It’s the nightmare that has haunted me my entire life. And now, she was using it to shut me up. By the time I surfaced from the memory, Evelyn was already in the bathroom. Her phone, left on the table, was open to Liam’s social media feed. She’d just liked his latest post. [Did a good deed with the boss today! She was so scared of needles she buried her face in my chest! Guess I’m the only one who’s seen her this vulnerable] The screen was a blur of flower and heart emojis, each one a weight crushing the air from my lungs. Evelyn has a severe phobia of blood. I know this better than anyone. When I was in that car accident, bleeding out, she was a perfect match. But she just stood there, watching me writhe in agony, sweat pouring down my face. She wouldn’t give a single drop. By the time the hospital found a compatible donor, I was already in the ICU. The doctor told me a few more minutes and I would have been gone. The comments section was a party. [Dude, details on the “buried her face” part?] [Her own husband almost died and she wouldn’t give him a drop of blood. How’d you manage this?] [Liam, you’re a legend!] Liam’s replies were flirty and vague, but I couldn’t really see them through the haze in my eyes. The only thing in focus was Evelyn’s thumbs-up. Her “like.” I tilted my head back, wiped the moisture from my eyes, and dialed my lawyer. “I need you to draw up divorce papers.” At 3 a.m., Evelyn shook me awake. “I just learned how to make dumplings. Get up and have some.” She dragged me into the kitchen. Flour dusted every surface, and bits of filling were scattered like confetti. It was my father’s recipe, the one he always used to recite from memory. She’d never stepped foot in the kitchen before. She used to complain about the smell of cooking oil on my clothes. Now, here she was, her face smudged with flour, her hands clumsily but intently folding the dough. The old me would have snapped a nine-photo collage for social media: [My wife made me dumplings by hand. I’m the luckiest man alive.] But now, I just fought back a yawn. “Have you ever cooked for him?” Her hands stilled. She shot me a look that screamed, Here we go again. “I made you food. I said nice things. What more do you want from me?” The next second, the bag of flour hit the floor with a soft thud. The dam inside me broke. “You let him come and go from our house as he pleases, you go with him to donate blood, everyone in the company is whispering about you two—” “Enough!” Her voice shot up, sharp and cracking. “You are my husband, Ryan, not some low-life picking fights in an alley. Look at yourself! Look at how crazy you’ve become!” She wasn’t done. “Liam comes from nothing, but he works hard and everyone at the company loves him. But you? The employees can’t stand you. Maybe you should take a look in the mirror and ask yourself why!” As she spoke, she was already typing on her phone. A notification popped up in the company-wide group chat. An official announcement firing me from my position. It took me five years to climb from an entry-level position to director. It took her one second to erase it all. “There. Are you satisfied?” she spat, yanking off her apron. “Now you won’t have to see any of this so-called ‘gossip’ from your employees anymore!” She stormed out of the house, leaving her phone on the counter. Some dark impulse made me pick it up. I opened her chat with Liam. Liam: [Did the trick I taught you work? Even the most stubborn old fossil can be tamed, right? ;)] Evelyn: [Haha, not so sure it’ll work on Ryan.] So, the dumplings were his idea. And she agreed with him. I was the stubborn, old fossil. Evelyn didn’t come home that night. Instead, she appeared in a live photo on Liam’s social media feed. Two shadowy figures, tangled together in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her CEO office. The sound of a kiss, just for a second, was a knife twisting in my ear. The comments flooded in. [Is the boss getting a new husband?] [Finally! Maybe we can get rid of that old fossil for good. Things will be so much better at work!] She had to have known he was filming. She had to. She wanted me to see it. She wanted me to know that without the title of ‘Evelyn’s husband,’ I was nothing. No one would respect me. I had no right to question her. I would end up just like my father. My hand trembled as I liked the post. I went back to our bedroom, opened a suitcase, and started packing. The framed photo of us on the nightstand went straight into the trash. I was done. I was done with all of it. I sat awake until the early hours of the morning, when the email from my lawyer finally arrived. The divorce papers. I opened the file, signed my name without a moment’s hesitation, and asked him to have a physical copy delivered. I don’t know how long she’d been standing there, but suddenly Evelyn was behind me, a confused frown on her face. “Who’s getting a divorce?” “A friend,” I said, my voice flat, my expression unmoving. The tension instantly drained from her shoulders. She let out a knowing little laugh. “I figured,” she said. “Your father is dead. Your mother is drowning in debt from a lifetime of charity, needing her son’s wife just to pay her hospital bills. What right could you possibly have to ask for a divorce? I was worried for nothing.” Every word was a razor blade slicing me open. I said nothing. Her tone softened slightly. “As long as you play the part of my husband and stop with these baseless suspicions, I can give you anything you want.” She turned to leave, tossing one last comment over her shoulder. “The company’s promotion ceremony is tomorrow. It wouldn’t look right if you didn’t go.” For a split second, my heart fluttered. A foolish, desperate part of me fantasized that she was going to acknowledge my five years of hard work. I stayed up all night preparing a speech. I tried on the custom-tailored suit she had bought for me. The next day, the banquet hall was buzzing, glasses clinking. I stepped inside, and the condescending stares that met me wiped the practiced smile right off my face. Up on the brightly lit stage, Evelyn personally announced Liam as the new director. My replacement. “Oh, good, you’re here,” she said, her eyes finding me in the crowd. Her tone was casual, breezy. “If Liam has any questions moving forward, you can help him out. You’ll have plenty of free time at home, might as well do something useful.” A wave of snickers rippled through the room. The whispers found their way to my ears. “Looks like we were right. There’s no place for him at the company anymore.” “Not just the company. I bet there won’t be a place for him in the family for much longer either.” “He used to be Mr. Walker, Director Walker, throwing his weight around. Now look at him. He’s nothing! Ha!” … Evelyn heard them. She had to have heard them. She didn’t say a word to defend me. She stepped down from the stage and leaned in close, her voice a low murmur. “This promotion was Liam’s birthday wish. I had to make it happen.” “Besides,” she added, “you won’t have to work so hard anymore. Isn’t it better to just stay home?” She asked it so matter-of-factly, so certain I would just nod and agree. “But I…” But I poured my soul into this for five years to get to this point. She didn’t have the patience to hear me finish. She was already turning away, taking Liam by the arm to introduce him to industry executives, to all the important players. Just like she used to do with me. But that was then. She handed my project proposals to Liam, coaching him line by line on how to handle the executives’ toughest questions. The whole thing was a grotesque farce. I couldn’t stand it for another second. As I turned to leave, Liam’s voice stopped me. “Ryan,” he said, grabbing my arm, his grip deliberately tight. “You’re not mad at me for taking your job, are you? Please don’t hate me.” The innocent, grateful boy my mother had sponsored was gone. In his place was this… thing, his eyes glinting with provocation. I looked down, a bitter laugh escaping my lips, then met his gaze. “My mother sponsored you, paid for your college, supported you and your mom. It wasn’t so you could steal my wife.” The smile on Liam’s face froze for an instant, then returned, wider and uglier. “Well, may the best man win.” With that, he let out a sharp cry and stumbled backward, collapsing right into Evelyn’s arms. “Evelyn,” he whimpered, “seeing Ryan… it’s bringing back all the nightmares from college.” His voice broke. “His mother… she took advantage of me! She used the sponsorship as an excuse to…” The room erupted. Every head turned, every pair of eyes stared at me, filled with shock and disgust. My nerves screamed. My voice rose an octave. “What are you talking about? My mom would never do something like that!” Liam just clung to Evelyn, trembling like a frightened child. “I was always too scared to say anything,” he sobbed. “But now that Ryan’s not at the company anymore… I finally feel safe enough to tell the truth…” Evelyn’s head snapped up. Her eyes were chips of ice. I stared at her, my brow furrowed in disbelief. “You believe him?” Her gaze was venomous. “Your mother,” she said, each word a hammer blow, “knows exactly what she did.” And just like that, it was fact. In the eyes of everyone there, my mother was a predator. And I was her son. “Using charity as a cover for that? What kind of monster does that?” “And him? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “No wonder he was always going after Liam. He was afraid the truth would come out!” “To think someone like that was working right beside us. It’s terrifying.” The faces around me twisted into ugly masks. The accusations rained down. I shook my head, helpless. “No, you’re wrong. My mom would never…” I lunged for Liam, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Tell them! Tell them the truth! My mom gave up everything for you! She went without new clothes, she worked while she was sick, just so you could go to college!” A hand shoved me back. It was Evelyn, her face a cold, hard mask of fury. “How dare you threaten him to change his story?” she snarled. “Liam is a good, honest person. Why would he ever lie about something that shames him like this? I think you’re just angry you got caught!” Right there, in front of everyone, she pulled out her phone and called the hospital. “Stop all payments for my husband’s mother’s care, effective immediately. A person like that doesn’t deserve to live.” My world collapsed. Wine glasses and pieces of cake flew through the air, pelting me. The words “predator’s son” echoed from all sides. “His mother doesn’t deserve to live, and neither does he!” “Just go die already!” Fists and palms rained down on my face. They spat on me. Someone slashed my cheek with a broken piece of a glass. Through the chaos, Evelyn started to move toward me, but Liam let out a sudden cry of pain. “My head… it hurts so much! I think… I think I see him coming for me…” Without a second thought, Evelyn had someone hoist Liam up and rush him to the hospital. The shouts and curses around me faded into a dull roar. All I could see was my mother’s face, her expression of anguish when she heard the lie. Amid the kicks and punches, I fumbled for my phone, desperately dialing the hospital. The voice on the other end was calm, clinical. “Mr. Walker, I’m very sorry for your loss. Your mother received several abusive phone calls a short while ago. Her heart gave out. She passed away moments ago.” The fight drained out of me. I went limp, letting the blows fall where they may. The voice on the phone said to “take care,” but I couldn’t shed a single tear. I don’t know how much time passed. The crowd eventually dispersed. My phone rang. It was Evelyn. “I’ve sent some money to your mother’s account. She won’t die just yet. As for the truth, we’ll let the police handle it.” Her voice was tired. “I think you’ve caused enough trouble. Stay home and think about what you’ve done. I won’t be back for three days.” “Okay,” I whispered into the phone. After hanging up, I deleted her number. I deleted everything. I went home, picked up my packed suitcase, and placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. I said goodbye to the home I had lived in for nearly ten years. One last stop. I picked up my mother’s ashes from the hospital and boarded a flight that night. Evelyn, this is goodbye. For good. Three days later, Evelyn came home carrying groceries and a bouquet of fresh flowers. The moment she pushed open the door, she froze.

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I’m eight months pregnant as I push open the bedroom door. My husband Francis is rolling around on our marital bed with another woman. The floor is littered with torn clothes and used condoms. I rush forward like a madwoman, trying to pull them apart. Francis backhands me with a slap, sending me sprawling. He slowly puts on his bathrobe and looks down at me condescendingly. “Chloe, you’re just a stand-in I bought with money. You really think you’re Mrs. Carter? I’ll fuck whoever I want. Make another scene and get the hell out.” The woman on the bed walks over with a coquettish laugh and kicks me in the stomach. “Mr. Carter says the bastard in your belly doesn’t deserve the Carter name.” The pain makes cold sweat pour down my face. I tumble down the stairs and stop breathing in a pool of blood. When I open my eyes again, I’m back at the moment before pushing open the master bedroom door. Hearing the moans coming from inside, I don’t open the door. I turn and go downstairs, call a welder, and have the master bedroom door welded shut. Then I dial the police station. “I’m reporting illegal prostitution at my house. The scene is extremely perverted.”

The moans and sounds of bodies colliding continue endlessly inside the door. I stand in the hallway, my stomach churning. The excruciating pain from my previous life seems to linger in my abdomen. I touch my protruding belly and take a deep breath before turning downstairs. Half an hour later, two welders carrying equipment stand outside the master bedroom door. “You really want it welded shut?” The welder looks at this expensive solid wood double door with some hesitation. I hand over two stacks of cash. “Weld even the door cracks shut. Add two layers of steel bars.” “You got it!” The welding machine emits a piercing roar. Dazzling sparks scatter through the hallway. The pungent smell of burning instantly fills the air. Inside the room, they finally sense something’s wrong. “What’s going on out there?!” Francis’s irritated voice comes through the door. Then comes the sound of the handle being violently twisted. “Chloe! Are you out there making trouble?” “Open this door!” I pull over a chair and sit steadily outside the door. I watch as the welder finishes welding the last steel bar to the door frame. “Francis, don’t you like playing in there?” “Today I’ll let you play to your heart’s content.” My tone is calm, without a hint of emotion. The door shakes violently from being kicked. “Have you lost your mind! You dare lock me in?” “When I get out, I’ll kill you!” The woman next to him also starts screaming. “Mr. Carter, I’m so scared. Is this woman mentally ill?” I let out a cold laugh and take out my phone. “Officer, yes, the address is Villa A in the Seaside Villa District.” “Come quickly. They’re organizing illegal prostitution inside.” Ten minutes later, five fully equipped police officers rush up to the second floor. “Who called the police?” The lead officer looks at the welded door and freezes. “Officer, I made the report.” “This house is my marital home under my name.” “My husband is illegally soliciting prostitutes inside.” The police exchange glances. “Listen up, people inside! This is the police! Open the door immediately!” Inside the room goes instantly quiet. A few seconds later, Francis’s exasperated voice comes through. “Chloe, you dare call the police? Are you tired of living!” The police look at the steel bars on the door and directly call in the fire department. Hydraulic cutters sever the freshly welded steel bars, and the door is forced open. A foul, fishy smell hits them in the face. Francis is naked, clutching a towel in front of him. The woman is even more terrified, curled up in the sheets trembling. “Don’t move! Put on your clothes and stand against the wall!” The police raise their body cameras. Francis’s face turns ashen as he points at my nose and curses. “Chloe, you’ve got nerve! You dare bring people to arrest me?” “What the hell are you! How dare you meddle in my business?” I walk forward and slap him across the face. The crisp sound of the slap echoes through the room. Francis’s head snaps to the side, half his face instantly swelling and turning red. “You dare hit me?” His eyes widen as he raises his hand to strike back. Two officers immediately step forward and pin him to the ground. “Stay still! You dare assault someone in front of police?” Francis is pressed firmly to the ground, his face against a condom on the floor. He gags in disgust. The woman wraps herself in the sheets, crying pitifully. “Officer, I’m his girlfriend. We’re in a normal relationship.” I throw a stack of photos in her face. “Normal relationship? Lester, last month you were detained for illegal prostitution and drug dealing at a nightclub. Should I pull up the records?” Lester’s face turns deathly pale, unable to say a word. The police pick up the photos from the ground, take one look, and pull out handcuffs. “Take them away! Back to the station for investigation!” Francis is handcuffed and struggles desperately. “Chloe! You wait!” “You’re just a cheap stand-in I bought for Austin!” “When I get out, I’ll make sure you leave with nothing! I’ll make the bastard in your belly die without a trace!” I look at his wretched state and smile slightly. “Sure, I’ll wait.” “Enjoy your time, Mr. Carter.”

At the city police station, I sit in the mediation room drinking warm water. The door is suddenly pushed open. Francis’s mother, Aurora, storms in on high heels with an imposing air. Her well-maintained face is full of fury. Seeing me, she pulls out a check from her bag and throws it in my face. “Chloe, haven’t you caused enough trouble?” “One million. Go tell the police right now it was a misunderstanding.” “Francis is the heir to Carter Group. He can’t have a criminal record!” The check floats lightly to the ground. I don’t even glance at it. “Aurora, soliciting prostitutes is illegal.” “The police caught him in the act. How do you expect me to change my statement?” Aurora crosses her arms, her eyes full of contempt. “Stop acting high and mighty. If you didn’t look somewhat like Austin, would Francis have married you?” “You’re just a poor girl from an orphanage. Being able to marry Francis is incredible luck.” “What’s wrong with men having a few lovers? Don’t you have any tolerance?” I stand up and look directly into her eyes. “He brought a call girl to my marital bed and had sex with her in front of my eight-month pregnant belly. This is your Carter family upbringing?” Aurora chokes on her words and becomes furious with embarrassment. “Don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!” “I’ve investigated you. That grandmother of yours with kidney failure is still lying in the hospital, right?” “Believe it or not, with one word from me, I can have the hospital stop her medication and throw her out on the street to die?” I look at her condescending face and suddenly laugh. I take out my phone and open a video. In the video, my grandmother is lying in a VIP room at a top private hospital with a dedicated caregiver. “I’m very sorry, Aurora.” “Just an hour ago, I transferred my grandmother to another hospital.” “That hospital is foreign-controlled. Your Carter family’s reach doesn’t extend that far.” Aurora’s face stiffens. “Where did you get the money?” I put away my phone. “That’s none of your concern.” “I’m officially notifying you now that I want a divorce from Francis.” “Have him prepare the property division agreement.” Aurora acts like she’s heard the biggest joke and bursts out laughing. “Divorce? Divide property?” “Chloe, are you still asleep?” “Francis did a prenuptial property notarization. Even if you divorce, you’ll leave with nothing!” “The child in your belly won’t be recognized by the Carter family either!” I nod. “Perfect if you don’t recognize it. I also find your Carter family genes dirty. As for property, I’ll see you in court.” I walk past her and head straight out. Passing the detention room, I see Francis behind the iron bars. He’s wearing a prison uniform, his hair disheveled, no longer showing any trace of the dignity of a wealthy young master. Seeing me, he rushes to the iron railing with a twisted expression. “Chloe! Get my mom to bail me out!” “The food in here isn’t fit for humans!” “If you just get me out, I’ll forgive your unreasonable behavior!” Unreasonable behavior? I stop and look at him coldly. “Francis, soliciting prostitutes carries a detention of ten to fifteen days.” “Enjoy your stay.” “Oh, and remember to exercise more so Lester on the outside won’t think you’re weak.” Francis curses furiously. “Bitch! You dare curse me!” “When Austin comes back, I’m divorcing you immediately!” “You won’t get a single penny!” I ignore his ranting and leave the police station. The sunlight outside is somewhat blinding. I touch the child in my belly. Baby, Mommy will take you away from this cesspool.

Back at the so-called marital villa. The air still seems to carry that disgusting smell. I immediately call a moving company. “Send ten trucks. Bring large garbage bags.” Two hours later, dozens of workers flood into the villa. “Boss, what should we move?” I point at everything in the master bedroom. “The bed, mattress, carpet, men’s clothes in the closet—throw it all away.” “Also all of Francis’s personal items in the study. Don’t leave a single thing.” The workers move efficiently. The custom-made bed worth a million is dismantled into eight pieces. Francis’s expensive custom suits and limited edition sneakers are all stuffed into black garbage bags. They fill five large trucks. “Boss, where should we take these things?” I give the foreman an address. “The scrap recycling station in the west part of the city.” “Tell the manager these things are free. He can dispose of them however he wants.” Looking at the empty room, I feel extremely satisfied. Next, I contact a real estate agent. “This villa—list it at twenty percent below market value for urgent sale.” “Full payment required. The faster, the better.” Although Francis bought this house, he added my name after we registered our marriage. According to the law, I have half the disposal rights. After handling all this, I move into the large flat I bought long ago. I purchased this with my premarital savings and money I earned over the past two years. Francis always thought I was just a housewife depending on him. He had no idea I’m a top-tier financial analyst. Over these three years, using an anonymous identity in the stock market, I earned more money than Carter Group’s annual net profit. Three days later, the agent calls. The house sold. Twenty million in full payment, already transferred to my overseas account. Just then, the doorbell rings. I glance at the monitor. It’s Lester. She’s wearing a revealing camisole dress and sunglasses, standing arrogantly outside the door. I open the door. Lester pushes her way in and looks around. “Well, Chloe, your new place is nice.” “How much hush money did you take from Mr. Carter to afford this kind of house?” I look at her coldly. “What are you doing here?” Lester takes off her sunglasses and smugly touches her flat stomach. “I’m here to inform you that I’m pregnant.” “With Mr. Carter’s child.” “Aurora already promised me that if I give birth to a boy, she’ll give me fifty million.” “The money-losing girl in your big belly—the Carter family doesn’t care about it at all.” I look at her smug face and find it hilarious. “Is that so? Then you should go to the Carter family for money. Why are you looking for me?” Lester leans close to me and lowers her voice. “Mr. Carter says your pregnant body is out of shape, like a sow.” “He gets disgusted just looking at you.” “Be smart and get lost. Give up the position of Mrs. Carter.” Without hesitation, I slap her across the face. “Smack!” Lester screams and covers her face. “You dare hit me? I’m carrying the Carter family’s child!” I backhand another slap. “I’m hitting you, you shameless bitch.” “You think Francis is something good?” “He can even call his own flesh and blood a bastard. You think he’ll care about that piece of meat in your belly?” Lester becomes frantic and lunges at me with bared teeth and claws. “I’ll fight you!” I sidestep and stick out my foot to trip her. She falls heavily to the ground, groaning in pain. I walk over and step on her back. “By the way, let me remind you.” “Francis has severe oligospermia. I only succeeded with this pregnancy after three IVF attempts.” “Whose bastard is really in your belly—you know in your heart.” Lester’s face changes drastically, her eyes shifting evasively. I take out my phone and play the recording I just made. “I’m here to inform you that I’m pregnant… with Mr. Carter’s child…” Lester panics. “You recorded that? Delete it now!” I kick her away. “Delete it? This is evidence you delivered to my doorstep.” Right in front of her, I send the recording to the Carter family group chat and the Carter Group executive group chat. “Get out.” Lester scrambles away on all fours.

When his detention period ends, Francis is released. He immediately rushes back to the villa, only to find the gate locked. Through the windows, he sees the place is completely empty—even the floors have been pried up. He frantically calls me. “Chloe! What did you do to the house? Where are my things?” I sit on the sofa in my large flat, drinking bird’s nest soup. “Garbage naturally goes to the dump.” “I’ve already sold the house. The money is in my account.” The sound of things being smashed comes from the other end of the phone. “You dare sell my house? That’s robbery!” “Give me the money back immediately! Otherwise I’ll call the police and have you arrested!” I laugh lightly. “Go ahead and report it.” “I have half ownership of the house. My sale was legal.” “You’d better worry about your company’s stock price first.” I hang up. Carter Group’s stock price has hit the daily limit down for three consecutive days due to news about Francis’s prostitution and drug use. Market capitalization has evaporated by nearly ten billion. Half an hour later, Francis finds my large flat and kicks the door. “Chloe! Open up!” I open the door. He charges in like an enraged lion. “What the hell do you want?” “Playing hard to get has limits!” “You think making a big scene will make me look at you more?” I throw the divorce agreement I prepared earlier in his face. “Sign it.” Francis sees the words clearly, his face turning ashen. He tears up the agreement. Paper scraps scatter everywhere. “Divorce? Dream on!” “You haven’t finished your duties as a stand-in. What right do you have to ask for divorce?” “You think after leaving me, you can still live this kind of luxurious life?” Just then, his phone rings. The screen flashes with “Austin.” Francis’s expression instantly becomes incredibly tender. He answers the phone, his voice so gentle it could drip water. “Austin, you’ve landed?” “Okay, I’ll send a car to pick you up right away.” “Don’t be afraid. With me here, no one can bully you.” After hanging up, Francis looks at me, his eyes cold again. “Did you hear? Austin is back.” “Your job as a stand-in is over.” “After the child is born, hand it directly to Austin to raise.” “She’s in poor health and can’t bear children. Consider this child your compensation to her.” I look at his matter-of-fact expression and feel utterly disgusted. “My child—why should I give it to her?” Francis snorts coldly. “Why? Because you’re a waste living off the Carter family!” “You’re just a breeding tool.” “Being able to raise a child for Austin is your honor.” I point at the door. “Get out.” Francis straightens his suit and arrogantly raises his chin. “You’d better behave.” “There’s a charity gala tomorrow night. You must attend with me.” “To prove to the public that rumors of our marital discord are false.” “Otherwise, I have a hundred ways to make your life worse than death.” I watch his departing back. A charity gala? Fine. I’ll prepare a gift you’ll never forget.

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I’ve been married to Alpha Connor for five years, yet he’s never marked me. For five years, he’s had an endless parade of mistresses. When he caught us in bed together yet again, Connor finally showed some reaction. Only this time, it was me lying naked in bed. Soon enough, he regained his composure and even thoughtfully tore open a condom for me. “I told you from the start we’d each do our own thing after marriage. Glad you finally listened.” Then he smiled as he tore open the condom and handed it to the man on top of me: “Be careful not to get her pregnant.” As he left, he even patiently reminded me: “I’ll be right next door. Have fun, and if you need any pointers on technique, feel free to ask anytime.” Watching his carefree retreating figure, I lowered my head. This five-year marriage needed to end. “Luna Clara, should we continue?” The man on the bed looked at me, his eyes seemingly filled with pity. I awkwardly got out of bed and stiffly pulled on my clothes, my heart sour and bitter. I took out a stack of cash and handed it to him. “I don’t want a fourth person knowing about tonight.” When I came out of the room, Connor was waiting in the hallway with his arm around his mistress Yvette, looking at me with a mocking smile. “I thought you’d finally grown a spine, but turns out this is all you’ve got?” I froze and looked up at him. Connor laughed. “Clara, since we agreed not to interfere with each other, even if you actually had sex with someone else, I would never make a scene and cause a commotion like you do. Don’t worry, I’m very generous.” These words made my breath catch. Yes. He was indeed generous. In a situation like earlier, even if it was just an act, no wolf would say something so casually like Connor just did. It was simply because he didn’t care. He didn’t care about me, so nothing I did would stir any waves in his heart. Between us, I was always the one who couldn’t be generous enough. That’s why five years ago, when I first discovered him having sex with someone else, I showed a completely different reaction than his current one. I smashed everything I could, cried hysterically, acted like a madwoman. But Connor showed no excess emotion from beginning to end. He just quietly watched me and sighed: “Clara, if it weren’t for your father being the Alpha of Ironpaw pack, we never would have gotten married.” “We’re just a political alliance between Dubois pack and Ironpaw pack. Why make such a spectacle of yourself?” I felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on me instantly. My heart went completely cold. Connor would never understand how I felt at that moment, just like he didn’t know I’d had a crush on him since childhood. Because I liked him, even when I met my fated mate at eighteen, I told him I had feelings for someone else and broke the mate bond. He would never know that when I learned he was my arranged marriage partner, my heart soared like it was flying on clouds. Because he said we were just a political alliance, I, his wife in name only, no longer had the right to even question his later scandals. After bringing a mistress home to have sex one time, Connor told me: “I’m not marking you because I don’t want to be bound by the mate bond. That’s also why I broke up with my fated mate. I still want to have sex with many women. Of course, you can also find other men to sleep with. We’re just a political alliance. We can each do our own thing.” Facing one instance after another of catching him in bed with others, I gradually evolved from hysteria to calm, and finally to numb. Like now, though I was still sad, I could finally calmly accept the fact that our marriage was coming to an end. I looked at Connor, gathered my composure, and mimicked his manner, curving my lips into a smile. “Sorry for the poor performance.” Connor froze, looking somewhat confused, unable to read me for the first time. But Yvette, standing beside him, laughed out loud and said coquettishly, “Connor, how can you say that to Luna Clara?” “She went through all that trouble to strip naked and throw herself into another man’s arms just to get your attention, to make you jealous! How can she save face after what you just said?” She pushed Connor toward me and poked his chest. “You should comfort her! Look, Luna Clara is about to cry.” Hearing this, Connor glanced at me and smiled carelessly. “It’s just a political alliance. I have no obligation to comfort anyone.” “Deal with your own emotions. If you don’t want to embarrass yourself again, don’t do such laughable stupid things in the future.” He pulled Yvette’s slender waist back into his embrace. “I promised to spend tonight with you. How could I break my word?” After speaking, he didn’t bother looking at me again and turned to enter the room. The moment the door closed, Yvette glanced back at me, her eyes filled with undisguised triumph and provocation. Soon, intimate sounds began. It seemed like they wouldn’t stop until her voice was hoarse. They knew I hadn’t left, and I knew they were doing it on purpose. I don’t know how long I stood outside the door until both legs went completely numb before I stumbled home and called my lawyer. “Draft a divorce agreement for me. Get it to me as soon as possible.” Since Connor kept saying it was a political alliance, it shouldn’t matter if I changed alliance partners. After all, which Alpha I married for political reasons was all the same, wasn’t it?

This time Connor disappeared longer than ever before. He was nowhere to be seen for nearly half a month, but Yvette’s social media updates appeared on time every night. Auctions, banquets, various elite social gatherings—even the private island where I had my honeymoon was now graced with her presence. Yvette truly deserved to be Connor’s longest-standing mistress. She always knew exactly how to hurt me. Rather than showing off, this was more like provocation. But unfortunately, she would be disappointed this time. Since I had already decided to let go completely, I wouldn’t waste emotions on Connor anymore. Just as I closed my phone to rest, a message from Yvette popped up. “I’ve prepared a gift for you. Hope you like it.” It was followed by a trending topic link. The moment I clicked it, I felt like someone had stepped on my face. [Dubois Pack’s Luna Clara Cheats During Marriage, Secret Late-Night Meeting with Lover!] Under the explosive headline were dozens of intimate photos from that night, showing my grief-stricken face and red-rimmed eyes. But my restraint and sadness were completely twisted in the netizens’ mouths into filthy, unspeakable words. The comment section was flooded with unbearable insults directed at me. I scrolled through them one by one, shaking with anger. I was clearly the victim in this marriage, yet the real betrayer remained unscathed while I became the slut condemned by everyone. I finally calmed down and tried to get the trending topic removed, but they told me someone had paid a premium to keep this news on the front page for a full day and night. After hanging up, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cellar. Yvette didn’t have that kind of power. The person backing her up, wanting to destroy my reputation, was Connor. I racked my brains but couldn’t understand why he hated me so much. Five years of marriage, even if it was hollow, the feelings I had for him weren’t fake. My care and concern for him weren’t fake. Even if Connor had no feelings for me, there was no need to disgust me like this. Fortunately, I soon learned his answer. At the evening banquet the next afternoon, Connor and I attended together. Because I hadn’t slept all night, I had a minor incident driving there and arrived a bit late. The banquet hall was very noisy, but I still spotted Connor immediately. He was surrounded by a group of wolves, with a woman leaning against him like she had no bones. Who else but Yvette? I was about to walk over when I heard his conversation with friends. “Connor, I saw the trending topic! I never thought you’d be the one getting cheated on. Clara’s really something!” “That’s what you get for stealing women from me. How’s that karma treating you?” Someone teased: “Come on! You always brag about your experience. Can’t you even see this? Those photos on the trending topic clearly show nothing real happened! Clara was obviously just putting on a show to win him back!” “But Connor, don’t you think you went too far this time? Keeping it at the top of trending and letting people criticize and insult Clara—she’s still a woman. How can she show her face in public after this?” Hearing this, Connor leisurely picked up his wine glass, a mocking smile curving his lips. “How else will she learn her lesson? I want her to never dare find a lover again, even if it’s just an act.” The person said in surprise: “You can have endless mistresses yourself, so why restrict Clara from finding lovers! Don’t tell me that ‘each do our own thing, don’t interfere with each other’ line you always spout only applies to others and not yourself?” Connor frowned and said nothing. “You’re pretty slick. You don’t fulfill your duties as a husband but demand she fulfill her duties as a wife. And because of your ‘don’t interfere with each other’ line, she doesn’t even have the right to be jealous or angry!” “As your buddy, I really envy you. Unlike me—my wife caused a scene at my company last month. I lost all face!” “Hey, how about this—when I get back, I’ll make the same agreement with my wife. Just like you, we’ll each do our own thing and not interfere. What do you think?” This time Connor laughed outright. “Don’t. You absolutely shouldn’t say that. If you do, just wait for your wife to break the mate bond and divorce you.” “My situation is different from yours. After all, Clara likes me.” His tone seemed both proud and teasing, but all the blood in my body instantly turned cold. So he knew I liked him.

Because I liked him, he could trample me without restraint, stepping on my dignity and letting his mistresses trample on it freely. All these years of suffering were simply because he knew I liked him. How ridiculous. Their conversation continued. “My God! Connor, you’re such a bastard!” “But since Clara is devoted to you and you have no intention of divorcing her, why did you arrange for her to lose your baby when she was pregnant?” Hearing this, I instantly froze in place. He was right. I had once been pregnant with Connor’s child. But at three months, there was an accident. On my way home, I was suddenly attacked by a group of Rogues. I was injured. When I barely escaped and got to the hospital, the baby couldn’t be saved. Not only that, but the doctor announced on the spot that my body was damaged and I likely wouldn’t be able to get pregnant again. What a coincidence—the wolf doctor who performed my abortion was Yvette. When I came out of the operating room, Connor showed me something like heartache for the first time. He walked over and hugged me, his tone rarely gentle. “It’s okay. If the baby’s gone, it’s gone. As long as you’re fine.” I naively thought I had touched his heart back then. Now it seemed there was another story behind it. Connor’s friend continued talking: “The doctor said Clara’s situation was indeed dangerous, but with proper care, the baby might have been saved. But you went ahead and secretly sent her into the operating room without telling her, and the abortion left her with health problems.” “I really don’t know what you were thinking. Connor, can you tell me?” Hearing this, Connor’s expression became complicated. Whether annoyed or something else, he lit a cigarette, squinted as he took a drag, and said irritably: “What else could it be? At the time, I hadn’t had enough fun yet. I didn’t want to be a father so early!” “Besides, Clara getting pregnant with my child was just trying to use it to control me. Our packs are just a political alliance. If a child affected the core interests of our Dubois pack, wouldn’t that be counterproductive?” “Damaging her body wasn’t my intention. I’ll compensate her later. And don’t mention this again. If she finds out, she’ll probably make a fuss again.” Hearing this, I couldn’t control my trembling. Overwhelming and desperate emotions nearly swallowed me whole. When I came to my senses, I had already walked in front of Connor. With my appearance, the scene became so quiet only breathing could be heard. In this situation, even Connor couldn’t stay calm. A flash of panic crossed his eyes. He glanced at me somewhat guiltily and coughed lightly. “Since you’re here, come sit.” I didn’t move or speak. The atmosphere became extremely awkward. Seeing me like this, Connor felt embarrassed and frowned. I knew this was a sign he was about to get angry. I used to fear his anger most, but now I just silently took out the divorce agreement I had prepared and placed it in front of him. “Connor, I don’t know when you’ll have had enough fun, but I don’t want to play along anymore. Sign this divorce agreement. After this, you can play however you want. I won’t interfere anymore, and I’ll never try to use a child to affect your Dubois pack’s core interests.” “Let’s end things here.”

Connor stared at the document in front of him, his expression extremely ugly. After a long while, he looked at me with a cold laugh. “Threatening me?” I smiled bitterly. “If that’s what you think, then sure.” He looked at me, dangerously narrowing his eyes, his tone somewhere between threatening and pressuring. “I’ll ask you one last time. You really want to divorce me?” I nodded without hesitation. Seeing this, the watching friends exchanged glances and couldn’t help but try to persuade me, but my attitude showed no sign of yielding. Connor had never lost face like this before. He immediately signed his name on the divorce agreement like it was spite, looked at me coldly, and said through gritted teeth: “Clara, you’ve got guts. Don’t come crying back to me!” I ignored him, took the agreement, and turned to leave. Not long after I walked out, their conversation reached my ears again. This time Connor’s friends were betting on how long it would take before I came back to him and begged. Everyone chimed in, getting more excited. Finally, Connor concluded: “Stop guessing. Three days at most. She’ll definitely come crying back begging me not to divorce.” Hearing this, I curved my lips in mockery. I was afraid he would be disappointed this time. Not only would I not go to him with my head down, I would make him lose all face! I tolerated him before only because I liked him, but now, there was no need to endure anymore. So after getting home, I immediately contacted the media, extracted surveillance footage of Connor messing around with numerous mistresses from our home security system, and posted it online. The most explosive footage was undoubtedly him and Yvette. I copied his approach exactly, letting this news hang on trending for a full day and night. Public opinion completely reversed. This time, they became the targets of everyone’s condemnation. During this time, Connor kept calling, but I hung up every single time without exception. See? The knife only hurts when it cuts your own flesh. They should also experience what it feels like to be condemned by everyone. But what I didn’t expect was that a few days later, the hospital called. “This is bad, Luna Clara. Your mother’s condition suddenly relapsed. She needs surgery immediately!” My mother had been poisoned by wolfsbane years ago. Though the poison was later cured, it left her body damaged. She’d been bedridden for years. Three months ago she had just finished surgery and her health had slightly improved. I never expected something to happen at this critical moment. Even more unfortunately, my father wasn’t around. He had recently gone abroad to handle business matters and couldn’t return anytime soon. When I rushed to the hospital, the doctor explained the situation to me. “Luna Clara, the lesion has begun to spread. This surgery requires extreme precision, but your mother’s previous attending physician went abroad to study half a month ago. It seems only his student, Dr. Yvette, can try. The situation is urgent. You need to decide quickly.” Hearing this, I felt like I’d been hit with a club. But right now, compared to my mother’s life, what was my dignity worth? Before I could find her, Yvette came to find me first. Connor stood beside her. When they saw me, neither looked pleased. After I explained the situation. Yvette said: “Clara, the stunt you pulled online almost cost me my job. Now you want me to help you. Shouldn’t you apologize first?” I said, “What do you want me to do?” Yvette glanced at me and said with undisguised malice: “Unless you kneel down and beg me now, I might consider it.” Hearing this, my eyes widened and I instinctively looked at Connor standing beside her. But Connor said: “When you’re asking someone for help, you should have the right attitude. Whether to save your mother or not is up to you.” With these words, the hope in my heart completely shattered. For my mother’s sake, I could only throw my dignity on the ground for others to trample. The moment my knees hit the ground, I heard Yvette’s undisguised mocking laughter. A moment later, my mother was sent into the operating room. After an agonizing wait, the light finally went out. Yvette walked out with two nurses. I rushed forward to ask about the situation, but she shook her head and said: “I did my best, but your mother’s fate was sealed. There was nothing I could do.” A nearby nurse whispered: “That’s not true. If you hadn’t… if you hadn’t been distracted during the surgery, the patient wouldn’t have…” She couldn’t continue. Hearing this, my mind went completely blank. When I came to my senses, my hand had already landed heavily across Yvette’s face. “You did it on purpose! Yvette! You did it on purpose, didn’t you!” Seeing me like this, a flash of heartache crossed Connor’s eyes. He reached out his hand toward me, about to say something, but when Yvette started crying, he changed his tune. “Clara, no surgery is one hundred percent successful. Yvette is a doctor. Why make her sound so terrible?” “Your mother had been ill for a long time. This might be a relief for her. You should thank Yvette, not be so aggressive like this.” In this moment, my heart completely died. Over the next half month, I handled my mother’s funeral and completely bid farewell to this disgusting place. The moment I boarded the plane. An explosive news story appeared on the homepage. [Alliance Between Ironpaw Pack and Dubois Pack Terminated, May Form Alliance with Ashclaw Pack Instead!] At the same time, Connor was awakened from his sleep by an urgent phone call!

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The entire Moonclaw Pack knew that Alex loved me. When I was twenty years old, I was captured by vicious rogues. Alex ventured alone into the terrifying forbidden forest to rescue me. I thought I’d never meet anyone who loved me more than he did, not even a so-called fated mate. So we got together. In his younger days, he was wild and had many lovers. I knew this. During our first few years together, women constantly tried to seduce him. But those women would vanish the next day, as if they’d evaporated from existence. I thought I was the only one in his heart. But I was wrong. Before our Mark ceremony, Chloe appeared at Alex’s side. On her first day, Alex participated in a death match at the underground fight ring, all because Chloe wanted the necklace offered as a prize. On her seventh day, they slept together. On her twentieth day, he brought her back to what was supposed to be our home. So I decided to cancel my union with Alex and marry his brother instead—the former Alpha of Moonclaw Pack.

Lily POV This morning, Alex told me he was hosting a barbecue party with his friends. So today I left work early to help Alex entertain his friends. But when I reached the garden, I only saw a barbecue grill with no one around. Looking a bit further, I saw Alex pressed on top of a woman, their moans piercing my ears with each gust of evening breeze. My breath hitched. I strode over quickly. Then I violently flipped over the entire barbecue grill. “Ahhh—!” The searing coals scattered across the cobblestone ground with shrill screams. I watched as Alex whipped around, using his entire back to shield the woman, blocking most of the flying sparks. In that instant, my heart felt like someone had viciously squeezed it. He would actually protect her like this. “Chloe, are you okay?” His tone was so gentle it nearly made me sick. The woman called Chloe trembled as she grabbed his reddened, burned arm, sobbing softly. “I’m fine. But you… does it hurt?” I laughed coldly. “Stop acting. Get out.” Chloe’s face went pale as she shrank back. But Alex stepped in front of her, looking down at me from above, his voice cold as ice. “Apologize.” The Alex I’d known for seven years had never shown me such a cold expression before. I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white. “In your dreams.” I ground out the words through gritted teeth, then turned and walked toward the house. The moment the door closed behind me, I could no longer pretend to be unaffected. Tears fell. I never imagined he could be so gentle with someone else. He betrayed me, yet demanded an apology from me. And I had to witness it today, in our home. I knew he’d been getting close to that woman recently. But she was just an Omega working as a waitress. I thought he was just fooling around. But I was dead wrong. He brought her home, right in front of me. He probably didn’t expect I’d accidentally discover them. Of course he didn’t expect it. He’d hidden it so well. Maybe his refusal to Mark me was precisely for this reason. He didn’t want to remain faithful to our relationship. I collapsed onto the bed that once belonged to both of us, tears dropping onto the pillow. I don’t know how much time passed before I was violently pulled from the bed and thrown onto the floor. Looking up, I saw Alex’s cold face. His shirt still bore traces of coal burns on the back, though the wounds had already healed. “What are you doing?” I asked hoarsely. He didn’t answer, just grabbed my shoulder. “The coals burned her just now. With such a serious wound, an Omega like her can’t guarantee it’ll heal on its own.” I froze, then laughed. The sound was particularly jarring in the quiet room. “So what? Are you going to burn me back now?” He was silent for a long time before sighing. “Lily, why do you have to target her? I promise you, in a month I’ll still become your mate. But for what happened today, you must make amends to her.” “Alex—” Before I could finish, I felt a sharp, searing pain in my shoulder! He actually burned me with a piece of coal he’d gotten from somewhere, its heat still lingering! I gasped for breath, the pain making my vision go black. I nearly laughed up blood. “You want me to apologize? Screw you!” His expression turned completely grim. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Think about your Pack. Think about your broken father. Now answer me—will you apologize or not?” I felt thunderstruck, tears instantly blurring my vision. “You know what I care about most, and you’re actually using them to threaten me?” Yes, my pack wasn’t doing well right now. After my mother died, my father was devastated and never recovered. He no longer dealt with pack matters, and no longer had the ability to, because his wolf suffered every moment from the pain of losing his mate. A pack without an Alpha could hardly resist erosion by those with ambition. Even though I tried hard to maintain everything, to become the new leader, I couldn’t do it. That’s why I was here. Alex was the Alpha of the world’s most powerful Moonclaw Pack. My pack needed Moonclaw Pack’s protection. Fortunately, Alex loved me. At least that’s what I used to believe. A complex emotion flashed through his eyes. His tone softened, though it remained cold. “Lily, Chloe is different from you. She’s a poor Omega who’s been looked down on since childhood. You have things she never had. Why must you argue with her?” “So,” my voice trembled, “I should give her my man too?” He paused, avoiding my gaze. “No matter what I do this month, you’ll still be my mate. The Luna position will always be yours.” I closed my eyes, feeling dead inside. The burning pain in my shoulder intertwined with the coldness in my heart. “Fine. I’ll apologize.” He dragged me downstairs to the living room. Chloe was already waiting there, wearing my silk robe that she’d found somewhere. I lunged forward, trying to tear the robe off her. “That’s mine!” But Alex blocked me, his tone impatient. “It’s just a piece of clothing. I’ll buy you a new one. Hurry up and apologize!” His large hand gripped the back of my neck with force that nearly suffocated me. Only when I squeezed out “I’m sorry” through gritted teeth to Chloe did he finally release me with satisfaction. Watching the relieved smile at the corner of his mouth, my heart felt torn to shreds—a hundred times more painful than the burn on my shoulder. If he were my enemy, I would have bitten through his throat. But he wasn’t. He was my lover. And I still needed to rely on him to protect my pack. I thought this terrible farce had finally ended. But the next day, his people escorted me to the Pack medical center. He didn’t even look at me, just said to the doctor: “Take her in.” The cold operating table, the blinding surgical lights, the doctor expressionlessly preparing instruments, the needle gleaming with cold light. Before I fully understood what was happening, I heard him outside the door, speaking in the casual tone one might use to discuss the weather— “Chloe is very upset about the scar on her shoulder. Use your skin for her regeneration treatment.” The anesthetic needle pierced my skin with a sharp pain. I struggled in horror, but was held down firmly. Before I could resist or cry out, my consciousness rapidly sank into endless darkness. When I woke up, the white ceiling made me dizzy. Alex’s beta Evan quickly came forward to help me up. “Lily, you’re awake? Thank god. I’ll get the doctor.” Beta Evan hurried off to find someone, leaving his phone on a nearby stool. The screen was lit, and a conversation in the chat group between Alex and several of his close friends popped up. “Alex, what’s going on with you and Chloe? Are you really not going to be with Lily anymore? Your Mark ceremony is in a month.” “I didn’t say I wouldn’t. But this is the first time I’ve met someone like Chloe. She’s really sweet, really innocent. I feel soft every time I see her.” “Then what about Lily? She can’t tolerate any grain of sand in her eyes.” “Don’t worry. Her Pack is falling apart right now and needs my protection. She won’t leave me.” I gripped the phone tightly, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. The cold metal edges dug painfully into my palm. In that moment, the last trace of hope and doubt lingering in my heart was finally shattered by these naked words. So in his eyes, I was nothing more than someone begging for his protection, someone who could be discarded and used at will. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, wanting to laugh, but my throat felt bitter. Then I took out my own phone and calmly dialed the number of Alex’s mother. “Eleanor,” my voice sounded unnaturally calm, “I don’t want to marry Alex anymore.” Eleanor on the other end anxiously inquired. I answered softly, each word clear and terrifying. “No, I’m not refusing the union with Moonclaw Pack.” “I just… want to change the person.” “I want to become mates with Alex’s brother—Sebastian Sterling.”

Lily POV I knew that my Evans Pack was currently in a precarious position. If I lost Moonclaw Pack’s protection, those loan shark rogues would be the first to rush in and kill us all. But Eleanor didn’t only have Alex as a son. As long as I married into Moonclaw Pack, no matter who the partner was, Evans Pack could get a chance to breathe. Moreover, Alex’s brother Sebastian was the previous Alpha. However, during a hunt, he was ambushed and poisoned with something even witches were helpless against. His wolf was sealed, and he became extremely weak. On the other end of the phone, Eleanor’s voice carried surprise and hesitation. “Lily, you… have you thought this through? I know what Alex has done recently has hurt you, but the poison in Sebastian… if he Marks you, you might be affected by the poison too.” I closed my eyes, my voice calm. “Lady Eleanor, you know me. I’ve never been a magnanimous person. Since Alex likes that woman so much, I might as well fulfill their wishes.” I thought for a moment and added, “Besides, you should know my bloodline is pure enough. Maybe the final result will be that Sebastian’s poison gets cured.” I couldn’t guarantee this plan would be completely successful. But what if? My mother once said she had Lycan blood, though I didn’t know if it was true or not. My father used to be a powerful Alpha. My wolf was strong enough too. Marking a sufficiently powerful mate could always bring benefits. I believed Eleanor wanted Sebastian to recover more than anyone, not just because Sebastian was her son. But also because Alex wasn’t a responsible, qualified Alpha—he only knew how to sleep with women. Eleanor on the other end hesitated before finally agreeing. “Since you’ve made up your mind, I won’t try to persuade you otherwise.” After hanging up, I stared at the white hospital ceiling, feeling hollow inside. Just then, Evan came in with two nurses to change my dressing. No matter how strong a werewolf’s healing ability was, having a piece of skin removed still required time to recover. If treatment was neglected and infection occurred, healing would be even slower. The two nurses chatted while working. “Hey, that Omega in the next room is so lucky. It’s just a tiny wound from the skin graft, but Alpha Alex had all the doctors from the medical center go see her.” “Yeah, making such a big fuss. Said he was worried about her wound getting infected.” I sat on the bed, listening to those casual remarks, and actually laughed. So Alex knew wound infections were dangerous. He just didn’t care about me. I couldn’t help but think of a year ago, when Alex and I were still deeply in love. I got a minor injury during a hunt. At that time, Alex did the same thing. He brought in all the doctors from the medical center, looking tense, as if I had suffered some life-threatening injury. I found it both funny and sweet then. But now, he gave the same tenderness to another woman. Back then I thought it was ridiculous but also touching. Now he was giving that same gentleness to another woman. After the nurses left, beta Evan seemed like he wanted to say something. I raised my hand to stop him. “Don’t bother. You can go. My injury isn’t serious. I don’t need care.” He hesitated for a moment before nodding and saying softly, “Then get some rest.” After I was alone in the hospital room, I braced myself against the bed and slowly stood up. The anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet, making my steps unsteady. I had just reached the bathroom door when I heard Evan’s voice in the hallway: “Alpha Alex, shouldn’t you go see Lily? She’s all alone, it’s kind of pitiful…” “What’s pitiful about her?” Alex’s voice was very impatient. “Chloe is the victim. She’s the perpetrator. What’s happening to her now is what she deserves.” I froze in place, my chest feeling tight. The next second, I pushed open the bathroom door and locked it behind me. I didn’t want to hear another word from him. I suddenly remembered the night I fell in love with Alex. I had gone to an upscale nightclub to meet a strange Alpha, hoping to find aid for my Pack. That bastard actually had the audacity to slip his hand under my skirt. I angrily threw my drink in his face. Just as the guy grabbed my hair and was about to hit me, Alex appeared. Without a word, he pressed the man to the ground, his fists pounding down again and again, so viciously it frightened me, but also made my heart race. From that day on, I accepted Alex’s help and obtained the promise of protection from Moonclaw Pack that he represented. And I secretly decided in my heart that I was willing to give everything for this man. I knew he liked “pure” women. So I changed my style of dress, my makeup, my way of speaking. I became the “model of gentleness” in everyone’s eyes, became what he liked. Only when I saw Chloe did I finally understand. He didn’t like me. What he liked was that “fragility” that could stir his compassion. No matter how much I imitated it, I was only pretending. But her—she was naturally like that. Thinking of this, I laughed. Laughed at myself for diving headfirst into a trap I knew was there. Since it was like this, letting go was fine too. At least this time, I was the one who said goodbye first.

Lily POV On the seventh day at the medical center, he finally called. “How long are you going to keep this up? It was just one treatment. Are you planning to stay at the medical center forever? Chloe’s already gone home. When are you planning to come back?” I leaned against the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling and laughing coldly. “Home? Alex, that’s not my home anymore.” The other end went quiet for a moment. His tone seemed to soften slightly. “Lily, stop making a scene, okay? That’s your home, and our future home.” I had no interest in listening to his high-sounding lies and simply hung up the phone. But the next second, the screen lit up again. “Lily, you hung up on me?!” The anger in his voice nearly burst through the receiver. “Is there anything else? I need to sleep.” I was too lazy to deal with him. “If you dare hang up, I’ll withdraw all aid promises.” He said this through gritted teeth. The smile on my face instantly vanished. “Alex,” I said coldly, “you’re threatening me with this again? Are you addicted to it?” Silence for a few seconds. “It’s because you won’t talk to me properly.” I took a deep breath, suppressing my rising anger. “What do you want?” “There’s a charity gala the day after tomorrow. I’ll send you an invitation.” He said, “You must come. Consider it… my compensation to you.” The word “compensation” coming from his mouth was ironic. But I knew now wasn’t the time to tear off the facade. My Pack was teetering on the edge. Once he reneged on his aid promise, everything would be over. At least for now, Alex was still the Alpha. But I swore, after Sebastian and I held the Mark ceremony, he wouldn’t be anymore! So I answered, “I understand. Can I hang up now?” He wanted to say something else, but Chloe’s soft voice came through the phone. He quickly hung up. I watched the screen go dark, a hint of self-mockery on my lips, then turned off my phone. Two days later, Alex had someone deliver a gown to the medical center. The moment I opened the box, I froze. It was a white gauze dress—gentle, pure, respectable. Exactly the “look” Alex liked. I picked up scissors and cut it to shreds without hesitation, throwing the pieces in the trash. Then I made a call and had someone send over a red strapless gown. Confident, bold, sexy—that was me. After applying heavy makeup, I smiled at myself in the mirror. During those years with Alex, my clothes were always muted colors, my makeup so light it was nearly transparent. But I never liked muted colors, and I never liked pretending to be docile. Since I’d already decided to leave him, I didn’t need to pretend anymore. The charity gala venue was brilliantly lit. The moment I entered, I felt countless gazes focus on me. That kind of attention gave me a long-lost sense of satisfaction. After all, no one had seen me look like this. “Isn’t that Lily? Why is she dressed like that?” I heard someone’s surprised voice. The moment Alex turned around, I saw him visibly freeze. I smirked, raised my champagne glass, and toasted him from afar. His face darkened a few shades. Someone nearby teased, “Did you two break up? Does that mean I can pursue her now?” Alex laughed coldly. “She and I haven’t broken up. She’s probably jealous that I’ve been too close to Chloe lately, so she’s dressed like this to win me back.” Win him back? I laughed softly, the sound more bitter than wine. He continued socializing with others while I held my glass, drinking one after another. Until someone approached me, a hand reeking of alcohol trying to rest on my shoulder. I frowned in disgust and warned coldly, “Back off.” But the man grinned lewdly and still tried to touch me. I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and smashed it hard against his shoulder. The sound of shattering glass was deafening. He screamed and fell to the ground. I looked down at him, bared my fangs, my tone as cold as ice. “That’s a warning. Touch me again and I’ll bite through your throat!” The security warriors came and dragged him away. I picked up another glass of wine and continued mingling. Glass after glass went down, and my consciousness began to blur. I staggered toward the restroom, but just as I entered, I heard ambiguous panting sounds. That sound—I recognized it immediately. Alex. I froze in place, my fingertips going cold. For my “compensation,” he specifically called me here, yet turned around to embrace another woman. How absurd. I calmly washed my hands. The face in the mirror with red lips and heavy makeup looked cold and unfamiliar. The place in my chest that once held feelings now felt only numb. As the charity gala was ending, I finally understood his real purpose in calling me here. A thick stack of cooperation agreements sat on the table—all projects I wanted. At least tonight, I got what I wanted. “Wait for me at the parking garage,” I told the driver. I walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement level. The elevator doors opened. I had just stepped out when everything went black— I lost consciousness completely.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “392100”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In the third year of my marriage to Adrian, I accidentally saw him having sex with my adopted sister on the home security footage. Their voices came through the monitor loud and clear: “When are you finally going to divorce that woman? I’m tired of sneaking around.” Adrian stroked her hair, his eyes carrying a coldness and calculation I had never seen before: “Soon. Her sense of smell is already deteriorating. Once she can’t smell a thing, can’t write new formulas, and has no value left to exploit, I’ll divorce her.” So the bowl of nutrient solution he personally handed me every night never held affection—it held chronic poison. I let out a cold laugh and immediately activated “Project Abyss”—a top-secret program that would make my social identity completely dead. Seven days left, and I would disappear forever. But before I disappeared, I was going to take back everything they owed me. Sophia POV “Sophia, your application for the Abyss Project has been approved. It’s a completely isolated twenty-year undersea research project. Once you enter, you’ll be declared legally dead to the outside world. All contact will be cut. You have fifteen days to back out.” The director’s voice was mechanical and cold. My fingers gripping the phone went white, but my voice stayed calm. “I won’t back out. I’ll report on time in fifteen days.” I hung up, set the phone face-down on the table, and looked up at myself in the mirror. Pale face. Eyes heavy with exhaustion. I was an internationally renowned perfumer. And the wife of billionaire Adrian Blackwell, CEO of Blackwell Corporation. We’d been married for three years. In everyone’s eyes, I was the luckiest woman alive. Adrian showered me with affection. No matter how busy, he always came home for dinner. He treated me like I was made of glass. Click. The villa’s front door opened. Adrian walked in wearing a custom-tailored suit, carrying my favorite mousse cake from that boutique downtown, bringing in a wave of cold air. When he saw me standing in the living room, his sharp features instantly softened. He strode forward and pulled me into his embrace. “Sophia, why are you standing here dressed so lightly? You’ll catch cold.” His voice was low and tender, filled with concern. I didn’t return his embrace as usual, but stood stiffly, letting him hold me. Adrian noticed nothing wrong. He pulled me onto the sofa and opened the cake box like it was a gift. “Try it. I had Mary make you some herbal tonic. You’ve been having insomnia. Drink this and sleep well.” Mary, our maid, brought over a steaming bowl and set it on the table. The tonic was dark and smelled faintly of herbs. I stared at that bowl of tonic, my stomach suddenly churning. I shoved Adrian away and rushed to the bathroom, dry heaving. Adrian hurried after me, patting my back while asking anxiously. “What’s wrong? Is your stomach bothering you? I’ll call the doctor right away!” “No need.” I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face, using the sound to hide the tremor in my voice. “Probably just something I ate.” I raised my head, looking through the mirror at the man standing behind me. The concern in his eyes seemed so genuine. So genuine that if I hadn’t received that medical report today, I would have been kept in the dark forever. This afternoon, I’d gone to the hospital for a comprehensive toxicology screening. The report showed that a rare chronic neurotoxin had been accumulating in my body for an extended period. This toxin was colorless and odorless, slowly destroying one’s olfactory nerves, eventually leading to complete loss of smell and even mental breakdown. And the source of this toxin was precisely the “herbal tonic” that Adrian insisted I drink every single day without fail. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Adrian took a towel and gently wiped the water from my face. “You look terrible. I’ll take you to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow.” “Okay.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the despair and coldness in them. Back in the living room, Adrian picked up the now-lukewarm bowl of tonic and held it to my lips, his eyes tender enough to drown in. “Be good, drink your tonic. You’ll feel better after drinking it.” I looked at his long fingers, my heart twisting like a knife. I’d loved Adrian for ten years, been married to him for three. I thought I was his salvation, never imagining I was just meat on his chopping block. I took the bowl, tilted my head back, and in front of him, drained that bowl of poisoned tonic in one gulp. The poison slid down my throat, burning my internal organs. Adrian smiled with satisfaction, bowing his head to plant a light kiss on my forehead. “Good girl. Get some rest early. I need to handle some documents in the study.” Watching his retreating figure as he went upstairs, I bit my lip hard until I tasted blood. Fifteen days. Adrian, in fifteen days, I’ll return this life to you, along with all your false affections.

Sophia POV Late at night, the villa was silent. After Adrian fell asleep, I quietly got up and went to the study. I installed a micro camera in the most concealed corner of the bookshelf, the lens pointed directly at Adrian’s desk. After finishing, I returned to the bedroom and lay down beside Adrian. The man habitually pulled me into his arms, chin resting on the top of my head, breathing evenly. I kept my eyes open until dawn. The next day, after Adrian left for the company, I claimed I wasn’t feeling well and stayed home. I opened my laptop and connected to the study’s surveillance feed. At ten in the morning, the study door opened. The person who entered wasn’t Mary the maid, but Vivian. Vivian was the adopted daughter of the Sterling family, and nominally my sister. She wore a flamboyant red dress and high heels, walking straight to Adrian’s desk and opening his computer with practiced ease. Before long, the door opened again. Adrian had returned. In the surveillance footage, Adrian showed no surprise whatsoever. Instead, he locked the door behind him. Vivian draped herself over him like a boneless cat, hooking her arms around his neck and pouting. “Adrian, didn’t you say you had a morning meeting? How’d you get back so fast?” Adrian naturally wrapped his arm around her waist, lowering his head to kiss her lips, his voice husky. “I missed you, so I came back.” The two kissed shamelessly in the room, the image so piercing I could barely breathe. I stared at the screen, nails digging deep into my palms. When the kiss ended, Vivian leaned against Adrian, playing with his tie, her tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. “When are you finally going to divorce that woman? I’m tired of sneaking around.” Adrian gently stroked her hair, his eyes holding a coldness and calculation I’d never seen before. “Soon. Her sense of smell is already deteriorating. Once she completely loses it and can’t create new formulas, I’ll have her committed to a psychiatric hospital. Then everything from Sterling Enterprises, plus all those top-secret core formula patents in her hands, will be yours.” Vivian’s eyes lit up. “Really? What about that ‘First Snow’ formula she’s been developing…” “Already copied to your flash drive.” Adrian pulled out a silver flash drive from his drawer and handed it to Vivian. “Next week’s International Perfume Competition. This will be your entry. I’ll pave the way for everything, make you a legitimate master perfumer.” Vivian excitedly took the flash drive, standing on tiptoe to kiss Adrian’s cheek. “Adrian, you’re so good to me! But… what if Sophia finds out?” “Finds out?” Adrian laughed coldly, his tone contemptuous. “She’s like an idiot now, completely obedient to me. So what if she finds out? She’s been drinking that tonic for so long, her nerves are already damaged. Who’s going to believe what a crazy person says?” In front of the screen, my whole body turned ice cold, as if I’d fallen into a frozen lake. So that was it. All his tenderness and consideration over these three years. It was all for Vivian. He not only wanted to destroy my career, but also my body, and even drive me insane! The love I took such pride in was nothing but a premeditated slaughter. I shut down the laptop. I didn’t cry or make a scene. My tears had already dried up last night. I pulled out my phone, looking at the countdown on the calendar. Fourteen days left. I stood up, walked to my vanity, and removed the expensive jewelry Adrian had given me piece by piece, throwing them in the trash. Since he wanted my formulas, wanted my life, then before I left, I’d play a good game with them.

Sophia POV Three days later, the Sterling family manor hosted a banquet. I walked into the hall in a black dress, my expression cold. The hall was filled with laughter and conversation. My biological parents, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, were gathered around Vivian, their faces full of affection. “Vivian is really making something of herself. She’ll definitely win first place at this International Perfume Competition!” Mrs. Sterling held Vivian’s hand, smiling from ear to ear. Vivian lowered her head with false modesty. “I just got lucky. Don’t praise me. Sophia is the real genius perfumer. My entry ‘First Snow’ was actually inspired by her previous work.” “What kind of genius is she!” Mr. Sterling snorted coldly, glancing at me with disgust as I entered. “Always with that sour face, like someone owes her millions. Nothing like you, considerate and sensible. If she had even half your talent, I’d thank the heavens!” I stood there, listening to my biological father’s degradation, feeling nothing inside. It had always been like this. Ever since Vivian was adopted, I became the Sterling family’s unwanted child. No matter how hard I worked, how excellent I became, in their eyes I could never match a single word of Vivian’s sweet talk. Adrian came downstairs, naturally walking to my side, putting his arm around my shoulders, smoothing things over. “Mr. Sterling, Sophia hasn’t been feeling well lately. Please don’t scold her.” He turned to look at me, his eyes so tender they seemed ready to drip water. “Sophia, why so late? Your hands are freezing.” I calmly avoided his touch, walked to the sofa and sat down, looking directly at Vivian. “You said your competition entry is called ‘First Snow’?” I caught a flash of guilt in Vivian’s eyes, but backed by Adrian’s support, she forced herself to remain calm. “Yes, Sophia. Why?” “Nothing.” I coldly curved my lips. “Just thought the name sounded familiar. If I remember correctly, this is a top-secret formula I started conceptualizing six months ago and locked in my laboratory safe.” The moment I spoke, the hall fell silent. Vivian’s face paled, her eyes instantly reddening as she looked at Adrian with grievance. “Adrian, Sophia… how can she slander me like this? This is clearly a formula I stayed up several nights to create!” Mrs. Sterling immediately stepped protectively in front of Vivian, pointing at me and cursing. “Sophia, have you no shame! You can’t write anything yourself because your inspiration’s dried up, so you’re jealous of Vivian? On what basis are you claiming Vivian’s hard work as yours!” “Whether it’s mine or not, checking the lab surveillance and computer records will tell us.” My tone was calm but each word hit hard. Adrian frowned slightly, stepping forward to stand between Vivian and me. He pulled out a stack of printed documents from his pocket and handed them to Mr. Sterling. “Mr. Sterling, these are Vivian’s creative drafts and timestamped records. Three months ago, Vivian had already completed the initial draft of ‘First Snow.’ And the records in Sophia’s lab were only created yesterday.” Adrian looked at me with pained, disappointed eyes. “I know you’ve been stressed lately, Sophia. But you can’t steal Vivian’s work just because you can’t come up with your own formulas. And then blame her for it.” I looked at the forged evidence in his hands and laughed. A cold, mocking laugh. He didn’t just steal my formula. He altered the timestamps and made me look like the thief. Slap! A resounding slap struck hard across my face. Mr. Sterling trembled with rage, pointing at me and roaring. “You shameless thing! Apologize to Vivian right now!” The blow made my head turn to the side, a trace of blood seeping from the corner of my mouth. I didn’t cover my face or defend myself. I just looked at this group of people with the gaze one reserves for the dead. “Fine, I’ll apologize.” I wiped the blood from my mouth, my voice cold as ice. “Vivian, I hope you win worldwide fame with my formula.” With that, I turned and strode out of Sterling Manor. I didn’t look back, but I knew that to them, the words of someone they considered mentally unstable and crazy wouldn’t matter at all.

Sophia POV My sense of smell was fading at a terrifying rate. A nose that could once easily distinguish the subtle differences between thousands of fragrances could now only detect the faintest bitter note even from the most potent rose essence. I knew the toxin had invaded my central nervous system. That evening, Adrian walked into the bedroom carrying a bowl of steaming soup. “Sophia, get up and have some soup.” He sat on the edge of the bed, helping me sit up, his movements gentle as if handling a fragile treasure. I leaned against the headboard, staring at the bowl of soup with vacant eyes. No scent. I couldn’t smell anything anymore. Adrian scooped up a spoonful of soup, blew on it to cool it, and held it to my lips. I didn’t open my mouth, just quietly looked at him. “Adrian, what exactly have you been making me drink every day?” Adrian’s hand paused slightly, then he smiled without changing expression. “Nutritious soup, of course. You’ve gotten too thin. The doctor said you need more nutrition.” “Is that so?” I suddenly reached out and knocked the soup bowl from his hand. The scalding liquid splashed onto Adrian’s hand, instantly turning it red. He shot to his feet, his expression darkening. “Sophia Sterling, what the hell is wrong with you!” “What’s wrong with me?” I laughed coldly, my eyes sharp as knives. “Adrian, do you dare drink this soup yourself? Do you dare tell me why my sense of smell is disappearing day by day!” Adrian’s pupils contracted sharply. He stared at me, seemingly assessing how much I actually knew. After a moment, he suddenly smiled. That smile tore away his mask of pretense, revealing cruel fangs beneath. “Since you already know, there’s no need for me to keep pretending.” Adrian methodically pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the soup from his hand. “That’s right, I’ve been poisoning you. Who told you to occupy the position of my wife while hoarding Sterling Enterprises’ core formula patents and refusing to hand them over?” He leaned forward, gripping my chin with force that nearly crushed my bones. “Sophia, you’re too smart and too proud. Only by destroying your pride will you obediently listen.” I was forced to raise my head, looking at this face I’d once loved to my bones, feeling nothing but revulsion. “Don’t even think about getting the rest of my formulas.” I said through gritted teeth. “Oh really?” Adrian snorted coldly and flung me aside. He turned and walked to the door, coldly instructing the guards outside. “Sophia is having a schizophrenic episode with severe self-harm tendencies. From today on, she cannot leave this room without my permission. Seal all the windows. Except for meal delivery, no one is allowed to visit.” The door slammed shut heavily, the sound of the lock clicking echoing especially harsh in the empty room. I was completely imprisoned. There wasn’t a trace of light in the room. All communication devices had been confiscated. I was like a trapped beast in a dark cage, unable to make any contact with the outside world. But I didn’t break down. I felt my way to the bed in the darkness, reaching under a loose floorboard to retrieve a palm-sized backup phone. This was the escape route I’d hidden long ago. I turned it on. The screen’s faint light illuminated my pale face. I skillfully dialed a complex encrypted number. “Abyss Project Headquarters. Ms. Sterling, how may we assist you?” My voice was terrifyingly calm. “My situation has changed. I’m requesting early evacuation.” “Received. Evacuation protocol initiated. Countdown: seven days. You must maintain stable vital signs and await extraction.” I hung up and hid the phone again. Seven days. Adrian, Vivian. What you owe me, I’ll collect every single debt over these seven days.

Sophia POV On the third day of my confinement, an uninvited guest came to the villa. Vivian wore a haute couture suit and arrogant high heels, walking into my room flanked by guards. The room was dark and damp. I was curled up on the corner sofa, hair disheveled, face pale as paper. Seeing my wretched state, Vivian let out a triumphant laugh. “Well, well, if it isn’t our high-and-mighty genius perfumer Sophia. How come you’re hiding here like a stray dog now?” I didn’t even lift my eyelids, treating her like thin air. This disregard completely enraged Vivian. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Don’t act so high and mighty! You think you’re still the Sterling heiress? Let me tell you something. Adrian already transferred every share of Sterling Enterprises to my name. You’re nothing now!” My scalp screamed, but I just stared at her. “Sleep well at night, knowing you took what’s not yours?” “Not mine?” Vivian cackled. “Sophia Sterling, don’t you get it yet? Adrian was never after you. He came for your family’s formula patents. He’s never loved you. The only woman he’s ever loved is me.” She let go, wiped her hands, and walked to the cabinet. Inside sat my mother’s only set of vintage perfumes. The last things she left before she died. “These broken bottles you worship like treasures? Just garbage.” I saw a flash of malice in Vivian’s eyes. She suddenly swept her hand across the display, sending all the perfume bottles crashing to the floor. Expensive glass shattered everywhere, rich fragrance instantly filling the entire room. This was my mother’s life’s work, my last connection to her in this world. “Vivian!” My eyes blazed with fury as I lunged forward, trying to stop her. But Vivian was prepared. Not only didn’t she dodge, she rushed toward me. Blood immediately gushed out. “Help! Sophia’s trying to kill me!” Vivian collapsed on the floor, screaming shrilly. The door was kicked open violently. Adrian burst in. Seeing Vivian lying in a pool of blood, his eyes filled with rage. He strode forward and kicked me flying. I slammed hard into the wall. It felt like all my internal organs had shifted. My throat sweetened as I coughed up blood. “Adrian, it hurts so much… Sophia’s gone crazy, she tried to kill me…” Vivian hid in Adrian’s arms, crying pitifully. Adrian tenderly lifted Vivian, then turned to look at me like I was already dead. “Sophia Sterling, you’re evil to the core! Vivian came to check on you out of kindness, and you tried to kill her!” I leaned against the wall, looking at this vicious pair, and suddenly burst into laughter. I laughed until tears came, laughed until my heart was torn apart. “Adrian, are you blind? She clearly cut herself!” “Enough!” Adrian roared, cutting me off. “You lunatic, nothing but lies! Since you love hurting people so much, those hands are useless anyway!” He set Vivian down, walked toward me step by step, and without mercy raised his leather shoe, stomping hard on my right hand. The hand I used for perfume creation. Crack. The sound of breaking bones rang clearly through the room. The pain shot from my fingers to my heart. My whole body convulsed, but I bit my lip hard and didn’t let out a single scream. I stared at Adrian, carving his twisted face deep into my bones. Adrian, that stomp severed the last thread of feeling between us.

Sophia POV With a shattered right hand, I received no medical treatment. Instead, Adrian had me transferred overnight to a secretive private psychiatric hospital. “Mr. Blackwell instructed that Ms. Sterling suffers from severe mania and persecution delusions, requiring mandatory treatment measures.” In the cold hospital room, a white-coated doctor emotionlessly read Adrian’s orders. I was roughly strapped to a frigid treatment bed, my limbs secured tightly with reinforced leather restraints. My right hand was swollen like a purple-red loaf of bread, every breath accompanied by excruciating pain. “What are you planning to do?” I looked at them coldly, my voice hoarse but eerily calm. The doctor didn’t answer, just waved his hand. Two nurses approached and attached cold electrode pads to my temples. “Begin electroshock therapy. Set voltage to maximum.” As the switch was flipped, a powerful current instantly surged through my brain. Indescribable agony blanked my mind completely, my body convulsing violently beyond my control. The restraints cut into my flesh, drawing blood. I bit my lip hard until my mouth filled with the thick taste of blood, but I never begged for mercy. Once, twice, three times… I don’t know how long it lasted before the electroshock finally stopped. I lay there like a dying fish, gasping for air, my body soaked in cold sweat, lacking even the strength to move a finger. “Ms. Sterling, Mr. Blackwell said that as long as you sign this equity transfer agreement and core formula authorization, you can suffer less.” The doctor held out a document before my eyes. I weakly opened my eyes, looking at that document, a mocking smile curving my lips. So this was his ultimate goal. Drain every last drop of use from me, then let me die like a madwoman in this sunless place. “I’ll… sign.” I forced out those words with difficulty. Surprise flashed in the doctor’s eyes, seemingly not expecting me to surrender so quickly. He unfastened my right hand restraint and shoved a pen into my hand. Enduring the agony of shattered bones, I used that nearly useless right hand to sign my name crookedly on the document. The moment I finished signing, it felt like all my strength had been drained. I collapsed limply on the bed. The doctor left with satisfaction, document in hand. The hospital room returned to deathly silence. I closed my eyes, silently calculating the time in my mind. Three days until the final deadline for the “Abyss Project” evacuation. Adrian, you think you’ve won? What you took is just garbage I don’t want. And I’ll let you taste what it’s like to fall from heaven to hell at your moment of greatest triumph. Over the next two days, I became abnormally quiet. I no longer resisted, no longer spoke. Like a true puppet with its soul extracted, I let the doctors and nurses do as they pleased. My compliance gradually made the psychiatric hospital guards lower their vigilance. Deep in the night, I used an extremely small blade hidden under my tongue to slowly cut through the leather restraints on my wrists. This was my last chance. I couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Sophia POV Evacuation countdown. Final day. Adrian came to the psychiatric hospital. A rare visit. He wore a perfectly tailored silver-gray suit. His hair was immaculate. He looked like a victor. Like a man who had already won everything. Tomorrow was Vivian’s global launch for her perfume brand, “First Snow.” And the celebration banquet for Blackwell Corporation’s complete takeover of the Sterling family assets. The hospital room door opened. Adrian looked down at me sitting in a wheelchair. I wore an oversized hospital gown, thin as a skeleton. My once vibrant face was now pale as paper, eyes vacant and dull, right hand hanging limply at my side like a lifeless rag doll. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but he quickly suppressed any extraneous emotion. “Sophia.” He walked over, crouched down, and tried to take my hand. I didn’t dodge, just looked at him woodenly, as if looking at a stranger. “Tomorrow is Vivian’s launch event. Once everything settles, I’ll bring you home.” Adrian’s voice was soft, carrying a false tenderness. “I’ll find you the best doctors, heal your hand, cure your illness. We’ll start over, okay?” Start over? I laughed coldly inside. Grind me into the mud, drain my blood, then condescend to say “start over”? I slowly raised my head, pretending those dead eyes suddenly held a flicker of light. I looked at Adrian, the corners of my mouth curving into an extremely faint smile. “Okay.” My voice was hoarse like sandpaper scraping. “I’ll wait for you… to take me home.” That word, that smile. It seemed to instantly relax Adrian’s tense nerves. He thought I’d finally accepted my fate, finally been completely tamed by him. “Good girl.” He satisfactorily reached out to stroke my hair. “After tomorrow, you’ll still be the distinguished CEO’s wife.” Adrian stood and turned to leave. He walked so decisively, steps light, never looking back once, eager to embrace his bright future. The moment the hospital room door closed again. Click. That soft sound seemed to sever the last thread of pretense. The wooden submission on my face vanished instantly, replaced by bone-chilling coldness and determination. I stood up, flexing my stiff joints. My bones made faint cracking sounds. Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night. At 2 a.m., the psychiatric hospital corridor was silent except for occasional patient murmurs and the footsteps of nurses on duty. I moved like a ghost along the walls, precisely avoiding every surveillance camera blind spot, slipping silently into the medication room at the end of the corridor. I mixed several highly volatile and flammable chemical agents in specific proportions, my movements without a moment’s hesitation. I built a simple delayed bomb and snuck into the records room. I wedged it into the back of the ventilation shaft, where years of dry paper records had piled up. Once lit, the fire would race through the ducts. It would erase every trace of me and throw the place into chaos. When I was done, I followed the same path back to my room. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the bedside table next to the suicide note I’d written long ago. Both neatly laid out. The note contained only one sentence. “Adrian, I’m giving your life back to you. May you two torment each other forever. May you never find peace.” I read the words, and the corner of my mouth twitched. At 3 a.m.,  the night was pitch black. A low, deep rumble approached from the distance, breaking the dead silence. The sound of helicopter rotors. The Abyss Project extraction team had arrived.

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