When the doctor told me I might never be able to have children again, Julian’s first reaction was pure agony: “How could this happen to Scarlett? She wants a child so badly!” Scarlett. She was the one he’d always yearned for, the unattainable ideal. Even my five-year-old son ran up to me, his voice sharp with accusation: “Mommy, did you do this on purpose? Daddy says if Aunt Scarlett could have a baby, she’d be way better than you!” A cold realization hit me. In this house, my worth, even as a potential mother, couldn’t measure up to the ghost of his past, the shadow of a woman who wasn’t even here. I was done. I left a divorce agreement and vanished from their lives. I gripped the thin, yet ton-heavy diagnosis – “Unlikely to conceive again.” My hands shook so violently I could barely hold the paper. The sterile white of the hospital corridor blurred, the world spun, leaving only those crushing words, like ice picks tearing through my heart. Why me? Fighting back the torrent of tears, I floated home like a phantom. He glanced up as I walked in, casually asking, “How was the check-up? What did the doctor say?” His tone was light, dismissive. My movements froze. I took a deep, shuddering breath, walked up to him, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “Julian, the doctor said… I might… I might not be able to get pregnant again.” His smile shattered, freezing on his face. After a few seconds of stunned silence, his brows furrowed, tightening into a worried knot. Then, almost a reflex, the words burst out, a bombshell that rocked my world: “How can that be? What about Scarlett? She wants a child so badly…” Scarlett. Scarlett Davies. The woman he’d held in his heart for years, the unattainable ideal he always craved. My blood seemed to turn to ice, chilling me from head to toe. My fingertips quivered uncontrollably. I stared at the man before me, disbelief clawing at my throat. “…What did you say?” My voice was raspy, like sandpaper, every word a struggle to force out. Julian seemed to realize he’d spoken out of turn, but there wasn’t a trace of apology in his eyes. He just turned away, his face etched with annoyance, avoiding my piercing gaze. He tried to backtrack, his voice clipped and stiff: “That’s not what I meant… It’s just… Ugh, this is so sudden, I…” Here I was, just delivered the devastating news that my hope for more children was almost gone, my body and soul in tatters, desperate for comfort and support. And his first reaction wasn’t to worry about my health, or to share my pain and despair. No, it was for Scarlett Davies, a woman who had absolutely no place in our family – *she* wanted a child? So, my inability to conceive again, was first and foremost a betrayal to *his* unattainable ideal? My mouth opened, but no sound came out. The man before me, so familiar yet utterly a stranger, sent a chill so profound it settled deep in my bones, alongside an absurd, cutting irony. These past five years, a colossal, cruel joke. I watched him pace irritably in the living room, then walk onto the balcony, pulling out his phone to make a call. His voice was low, but I clearly caught a few phrases: “…Don’t even ask. My wife’s body isn’t cooperating… Yeah, it is… Ugh, such a hassle…” My body isn’t cooperating?

The next morning, the house was a frozen wasteland. His attitude towards me was noticeably colder, his eyes holding an unspoken distance and a barely disguised disappointment. On the wall hung our family portrait, the three of us. In the photo, my smile was radiant, nestled beside Julian, who held little Leo. The scene was as warm as a meticulously painted oil canvas. Now, looking at it, all I felt was bitter irony. I silently picked up the toys scattered on the carpet, Leo’s masterpiece from last night. Just as I bent to grab a Transformer, Leo’s bedroom door opened. “Mommy!” My five-year-old son, Leo, dashed out. He ran up to me and delivered a blow that felt sharper than any knife: “Mommy! Why can’t you have a baby sister anymore? Daddy says Aunt Scarlett would be better than you if she could have a baby!” My brain exploded. Spots danced before my eyes, my ears rang, and I swayed, almost losing my balance. Aunt Scarlett… Scarlett Davies… He didn’t just feel sorry for Scarlett himself; he’d poisoned our innocent five-year-old son with such vicious, twisted ideas! My face went ashen, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. “Leo…” My voice was horribly hoarse, like an old bellows. “Who… who taught you to say that? Tell Mommy, who was it?” Leo was startled by my pale face and trembling voice. His little lip trembled, and tears welled up, threatening to spill over. “Leo!” Julian’s voice boomed from the study, laced with obvious impatience and a hint of… guilt? He strode over quickly, yanked our son away from me, pulling him behind him as if shielding a precious treasure, cutting off my view of Leo. He didn’t even spare me a glance, only addressed our son, but his words were clearly a “defense” aimed at me: “What does a child know? Don’t scare him!” His eyes were cold as ice, his tone scathing: “It’s the truth, your body isn’t well, so why blame others for saying it? Leo just spoke the truth, why are you so upset?!” He stood on a pedestal of moral superiority, mercilessly judging me. In that moment, I clearly felt the chasm between me and my son being forcibly widened by the man I once loved so deeply.

It felt like my heart had died; there was no greater sorrow. Just as I thought I would slowly numb in this silence, a message from Scarlett arrived, unexpected. “Clara, I heard you’re not doing well? How are you lately? I’m a bit worried about you, thought we could grab coffee and clear your head.” Her tone was gentle, oozing with “concern” and “sisterly affection.” *Ha*. Worried about me? More like eager to see me suffer. Julian’s words, “What about Scarlett?” still echoed in my ears. My instinct was to refuse this hypocritical invitation. But then, a perverse curiosity took hold. I wanted to see what kind of game this “white moonlight,” whom Julian cherished above his own wife and son, was planning to play. “Sure, Scarlett, you’re too kind. Just tell me where.” I replied with a calmness that surprised even myself. The café she picked was a chic, expensive, trendy spot. Scarlett was already there, seated by the window. The afternoon sun filtered through the glass, softly outlining her perfectly delicate profile. She was impeccably dressed today, radiating an air of delicate charm. A brand-new luxury designer bag lay casually beside her. Seeing me approach, she instantly stood, gracefully stepping forward. “Clara, you’re here. Please, sit.” She took my hand. Her fingertips were warm and soft, making my own, cold and stiff from days of shock and heartbreak, feel even more pathetic. “Clara, I’m truly sorry to hear… Julian told me. Don’t be too sad. It’s tough for a woman, you know, if you can’t have children anymore. It’s quite a shame.” A flicker of triumph, quickly masked, danced in her eyes. Beneath that seemingly sincere expression of regret, her schadenfreude was unmistakable. Three pleasantries in, and her real “performance” began. “But don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Julian… he still cares about you, you know.” Her voice held a seemingly “innocent” sigh, yet every word was designed to wound. “It’s just, you know how Julian is; he’s always loved children. He always said he wanted a bustling home, preferably three or four kids. If it hadn’t been for your ability to have children back then…” She paused deliberately, lifting her gaze to me, her eyes filled with feigned sympathy: “Ah, what a pity… He so desperately craved a complete family with children around him. If only back then…” She let the sentence hang, unfinished. If only what? She was blatantly implying that my body’s failure had left an irreparable “void” in his life. And she, Scarlett Davies, was the one who could fulfill his dreams. My heart was cold, my blood seeming to cease its flow. Yet, I struggled to maintain a semblance of composure and dignity. She elegantly raised her hand, gently stroking the exquisitely delicate, diamond-studded bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet shimmered, catching the afternoon sunlight in dazzling, almost blinding flashes. She noticed my gaze on the bracelet, explaining with a touch of coy bashfulness: “Oh, this? Julian just gave it to me. He said he specifically got it from a renowned spiritual retreat; it’s called a ‘fertility bracelet’ and brings good luck for conception… he said it would surely help me realize my dream of becoming a mother.” She continued, turning her “sympathetic” gaze back to me: “Ah, I was going to offer to get you one if you liked it. But it’s a shame, now that you… probably wouldn’t need it.” At the very moment I was diagnosed with a potentially barren future, Julian, my husband, bought *her* a “fertility bracelet”? And he wished *her* to “realize her dream of becoming a mother soon”?

So, Julian didn’t just feel for his unattainable ideal with words; his actions had already been this “thoughtful” and “far-sighted.” Enough. Just *enough*. The last shred of illusion I held for this marriage shattered, completely and utterly, under Scarlett’s meticulously orchestrated “performance.” I placed my water glass down. It hit the polished tabletop with a sharp, clear *clink*, successfully cutting off whatever more “dramatic” lines Scarlett had planned. I tugged at the corners of my mouth, forcing out a cold, hollow smile, staring directly into her eyes, which were brimming with hypocrisy: “Miss Davies, you’ve gone to great lengths. But my affairs are none of your concern. As for your ‘fertility charm,’ keep it and enjoy it all to yourself.” “You can finish that coffee on your own.” With that, I grabbed my bag from beside me and walked out of the café without a backward glance. Outside, the sunlight was intense, almost blinding. I returned to the place I called “home,” which felt more like a cage now. The sprawling house was empty. I didn’t turn on any lights, walking directly to the living room sofa and sinking down. Darkness gently enveloped me, amplifying the emptiness and resolve within my heart. My husband’s slip of the tongue, my son’s accusation, the “white moonlight’s” sickening display… The scenes of the past few days replayed in my mind, slow-motion, painfully clear. Every image, every word, felt like a thousand cuts to my soul. I sat in the dark for a long, long time, until the sky outside the window began to show the first hint of dawn. I stood up, still no lights on, and walked straight into the master bedroom. I only took a few casual outfits from college, comfortable though rarely worn now, along with essential undergarments and basic toiletries. My movements were frighteningly calm, as if I were merely packing for a short trip. But now, I was saying goodbye to that identity, forever. From the dusty depths of a drawer in his study, I pulled out a long-forgotten document – the divorce agreement. I’d actually printed it out a long time ago, in a fit of impulse after a furious argument with Julian about Scarlett. Back then, I just wanted to force Julian to make a choice, or perhaps, to childishly scare him into realizing I had boundaries. Laughably, when he saw the agreement, he merely scoffed, dismissively asking what “drama” I was causing now, then casually tossed it into the bottom of the drawer and never mentioned it again. Looking back, he must have been utterly convinced from the start that I couldn’t leave him, couldn’t abandon this privileged life, or the prestigious title of “Mrs. Julian Harrison.” I picked up the pen. Without a single hesitation, I signed my name, Clara Bennett, clearly and firmly, on the “Wife” line at the bottom of the dusty agreement. Next to it, I took off my wedding ring and gently placed it on the document. Finally, I took one last look around the house I had called home for five years. Pulling a simple suitcase, I silently walked out of that house, out of that suffocating marriage. I blocked and deleted Julian and everyone in his circle.

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My mom was a DEA agent, lost in the line of duty. Since I was a little kid, I had one dream: to reclaim her badge number. The moment I found out my scores were high enough for the police academy, I called my dad, buzzing with excitement. But he blew up. “You, a good-for-nothing loser like you, want to be a cop? Reclaim your mom’s badge number?! Don’t you dare shame your mother! Get lost!” My heart froze solid, my world crumbling around me. I stumbled home, only to be surrounded by a gang of addicts in a dark alley. “Heard your mom, Sergeant Dana, was a narcotics expert, trained a bunch of hotshots, made it impossible for us to even get a fix? Come on, let’s talk!” Naturally, I fought back with everything I had. But they were ready. A sharp knife plunged into my lower back, draining all my strength. Before I blacked out, my dad’s last words echoed in my mind. Dad, did I really disgrace Mom…? It was the dead of night when the police got a call. A large pool of blood was found in a dark alley in South Bayport, but no one was around. The caller thought it was just some drunk fight and quickly reported it, hoping the police would find the injured person and get them to a hospital fast. The police rushed to the scene, only to find the heavy rain had already washed away most of the blood, making it a chaotic mess! There wasn’t a trace of the injured person nearby. They immediately launched a carpet search and soon found dismembered body parts in an abandoned factory nearby. The morgue lights flickered on. “What’s the situation with this case?” A calm, steady male voice broke the silence. A man in a crisp forensic uniform walked in with two young police officers. This was my dad, Dr. Miles, the top forensic pathologist in Bayport. “Dr. Miles, the victim’s condition is pretty grim. Maybe you should prepare yourself…” Dad waved a dismissive hand. “What kind of body haven’t I seen? Just start the autopsy. Let’s solve this case as soon as possible!” He was right. Dad had been practicing for nearly twenty years. He’d seen it all: bloated bodies, headless corpses, dismembered remains, even bodies encased in concrete or reduced to fluid. When it came to forensics, he was a pro. But Dad, did you ever think that the body on that autopsy table… would be your most disregarded daughter? I floated in the air, watching my dad work with a strange detachment. The moment he unzipped the body bag, his brow furrowed. It wasn’t just the jumbled mess of flesh and bone inside; it was the missing, most crucial part. “Where’s the head? Where did it go?” “Uh… Dr. Miles, we searched that abandoned factory thoroughly, but we couldn’t find it. Most likely, the suspect took it.” “Forget it! Let’s start the autopsy.” Dad put on his gloves and began his professional sorting. Bone fragments, tissue, finger pieces… Everything he could identify was carefully laid out. “The victim is female, growth plates were narrow, not yet fully fused, estimated age between eighteen and twenty-three. Height between 5’3” and 5’7”. Probably a student.” “Based on the vitality of the cuts, the culprits must have first brutally broken this kid’s finger bones, radius, ulna, humerus, tibia, and femur while she was still alive. Then they dismembered her limbs. It seems that wasn’t enough for them; they used other blunt objects. Her ribs and spine are almost entirely fractured into tiny pieces…” Dad reported the findings professionally, while the young officer in charge of recording had already gone paper-white. Just hearing the description made him want to throw up! It was even harder to imagine the pain and despair the victim must have experienced! Dad suddenly turned. “Was a murder weapon found at the scene?” “Uh, yes, sir.” The young officer quickly handed a set of photos to Dad. It showed a saw covered in rust and blood, and a large sledgehammer caked with blood and tissue. A dull saw, used to savagely cut off every one of the victim’s fingers, every joint… The pain such weapons would inflict on a living person was beyond words!

Dad frowned deeply. “This wasn’t a random attack, was it? How much hatred could they possibly have for this kid?” Normally, even in a revenge attack, the assailants wouldn’t go to such extremes. The young officer respectfully replied, “Dr. Miles, preliminary investigations by Detective Reed’s Serious Crimes Unit have ruled out robbery and random attacks. It’s definitely a vendetta. Detective Reed and his team are now checking all newly reported missing person cases across the city.” “Understood.” Dad quickly pieced together the body parts, hoping to find some useful information to help solve the case. But it was all in vain. Even teeth, which can identify a person no matter how disfigured, had been taken by the criminals along with the head. Identifying the true identity of a nearly pulverized body, without any clothing, was almost impossible! I floated in the air, half relieved, half wistful. Good, Dad didn’t recognize me. Otherwise, he’d probably call me a loser again… Dad sighed. “What a pathetic kid! Why inflict such cruelty on a child because of their parents’ feuds…” There were tears glimmering in Dad’s eyes. Dad, meticulously piecing together every inch of bone. Dad, desperately searching for every bit of useful information. Dad, showing sympathy for a stranger, a headless female corpse. He felt so… unfamiliar. I knew Dad didn’t like me. When I was in elementary school, I had a fever on a rainy night. He took me to the emergency room alone. Dad thought Mom, who worked tirelessly day and night, deserved some rest, so he didn’t wake her. But Dad didn’t know that Mom got an urgent mission notification shortly after. She didn’t even wash her face before rushing to the scene. And it was that rainy night that Mom died in a shootout with The Viper. Mom’s body… Dad handled that one too. I was too young then to understand what death meant, what it felt like. Now that I think about it, even Dad wouldn’t want to personally send off his own wife, right? It was all my fault, for getting that strange fever on that particular night. It was only natural for Dad to hate me. If I hadn’t been sick, Dad would have fought to stop Mom from going on that mission, and if she hadn’t gone, Mom wouldn’t have died. It was all my fault… I looked down at Dad, who still hadn’t recognized me on the autopsy table. I glanced at the body again, fragmented and soiled. Covered in what looked like mud or blood, each piece of flesh looked gray and black, no different from leftover food dumped in a sewer. Even I couldn’t have recognized myself. No wonder Dad didn’t. The tranquil morgue was suddenly pierced by a ringing phone. Dad stopped, frowning, and looked at the two young officers. They shook their heads quickly. “Dr. Miles, we didn’t bring anything in!” Dad then realized it was his own phone. He pulled off his gloves to check. It was Aunt Sarah. “Hello? I’m busy…” “Oh, Miles, I don’t know… Chloe, have you seen her? I can’t reach her phone…” “Chloe?” Hearing my name, Dad’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know! I disciplined her yesterday. She’s probably out messing around. Just ignore her!” Aunt Sarah sounded anxious. “Why did you scold her again? I heard Chloe scored really well on her college entrance exams, enough for the police academy! She was so happy yesterday!” “Police academy, my foot! Someone as worthless as her? She should just pick some easy major, get a regular job, and make money! Becoming a cop would be an insult to the entire profession!” Dad’s voice was as sharp as ever.

Aunt Sarah was silent for a moment. “That’s been Chloe’s dream for ages. She finally did so well on her exams, and I was planning to invite her over for a big dinner. I bought so much seafood…” Dad was furious. “I forbid her from applying to the police academy! If she does, then she’s no daughter of mine! She can go die for all I care!” With that, Dad hung up. He seemed to forget he wasn’t alone, his chest heaving with anger as he stood by the autopsy table, speechless for a long time. I’m sorry, Dad. I won’t apply to the police academy. Please don’t be angry; it’s not good for you. I wanted to say that so badly, but all I could do was float in the air, watching everything unfold, utterly powerless. I wanted to cry, but as a spirit, I had no tears. By now, Dad had pieced together most of the body, but he couldn’t put my ten fingers back together. He frowned deeply, instructing the young officer to record. “Right ring finger and pinky are missing. Have the officers at the scene search again. If they can’t find them…” My heart clenched. When I was little, I was mischievous and went to tease a police dog. It bit through the flesh of these two fingers, leaving terrible scars. That dog, because of my accidental injury, was forced into early retirement. Dad scolded me relentlessly for that incident. Had he forgotten? Of course, Dad didn’t care about me at all… No! It’s better if Dad doesn’t remember! I don’t want Dad to know that he personally sent off both his wife and daughter! The young officer saluted. “Understood! If they’re not found, it means those two fingers have distinct identifying features!” Dad nodded. “Exactly. To find the victim, look for individuals with old injuries or tattoos on their hands!” He cut a small piece of flesh. “Get a DNA test done. Compare it with the database. Find the direct relatives as soon as possible!” Hearing Dad say that, my heart clenched. If they checked DNA, wouldn’t I be exposed quickly?! Dad! Don’t check the DNA! Dad! Let this case go! Don’t investigate further! I screamed silently, but Dad heard not a single word. Dad worked in the morgue for over ten hours. He’d arrived at dawn, and by the time he emerged, night had fallen again. “Dr. Miles, you’ve worked tirelessly.” Dad nodded, about to head home for rest, but then he saw Aunt Sarah waiting anxiously at the police station entrance. “Miles, Chloe’s been missing for a whole day and night! I asked her classmates; no one’s seen her! I checked all the entertainment spots near the school, couldn’t find her! What do we do?!” Dad looked annoyed, his brows tightly knit. “This is just her using petty tricks to make me agree to her joining the police academy! Impossible! Someone as worthless as her just needs to be law-abiding. What, she wants to uphold justice too?!” Aunt Sarah was on the verge of tears. “Forget about college applications for now! Our child’s safety is more important! I just came here and heard about a major case! A young girl, just turned adult, was dismembered, right?! Aren’t you worried Chloe might have run into those people?” Dad snapped back. “Don’t pry into cases that haven’t been announced! Chloe is eighteen; she can take care of herself! If something happened to her, she can only blame her own bad luck! Knowing how dangerous it is out there, why did she have to go running off?!” Aunt Sarah paused. “I’m not prying, I… I’m just afraid something happened to Chloe!” Dad’s eyes held contempt. “If she can’t even manage basic risk assessment or know how to avoid danger, then what good is she for the police academy? She might as well go get a job!”

“Miles Chen! Listen to yourself! Chloe lost her mom when she was little; she’s already had it tough enough! She didn’t let it get her down; she became even more driven, and you keep knocking her down every single day! Are you even human?!” Aunt Sarah shrieked, tears streaming down her face. “I’m telling you, you’d better pray to God the victim in this case isn’t Chloe! Otherwise, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!” My heart leaped. Had Aunt Sarah found out? But looking at her expression, it didn’t seem like she knew the truth. It was more like she was deliberately trying to provoke Dad. Sure enough, at her words, Dad’s face instantly changed. “Impossible! Don’t you think I’d know my own daughter?! The victim in there absolutely cannot be Chloe!” Aunt Sarah bit her lip. “If it really is Chloe, don’t even think about claiming her body back! You never liked the kid anyway; let her come back to our family!” Dad raised his voice. “Fine! Take her! Do you think I care?! I’ve wanted that bad luck charm out of my life for years!” Aunt Sarah trembled with rage. “You rotten Miles Chen! If you don’t want Chloe, I do! Such a good kid, she’s suffered enough injustice living with you! You cold-blooded, heartless bastard! Ugh!” I floated in the air, a little overwhelmed. I knew Aunt Sarah was incredibly good to me. After Mom died, Dad rarely paid attention to me. Beyond making sure I ate, he ignored everything else. I still remember Aunt Sarah being the one who bought me my first bras and sanitary pads during my teenage years. I wanted to study hard and get into the police academy, but Dad wouldn’t pay for tutoring classes. In the end, it was Aunt Sarah who secretly took me to enroll. From the smallest daily necessities to tutoring, smartphones, tablets, and computers, Aunt Sarah almost always paid for them out of her own pocket. To Aunt Sarah, I was practically her own daughter. Aunt Sarah, fuming, stormed out of the police station, her trembling fingers typing a message on her phone. I floated over, peering at the screen. ‘Chloe, it’s not safe out there right now. No matter how angry you are at your dad, you still need to come home! If you don’t want to come home, that’s fine. Come to Aunt Sarah’s. I’ll send you to college and pay your tuition! We don’t need your dad. Aunt Sarah’s place will always be your home, sweetie. Be good.’ I blinked, feeling tears well up. Aunt Sarah had lost her only sister on that rainy night years ago too. Yet, she didn’t hate me like Dad did. Instead, she poured all the love she had for her sister into me. I’m so sorry, Aunt Sarah. I’m afraid I’m destined to disappoint you. It seemed that because my body was inside the police station, I couldn’t follow Aunt Sarah further than a certain distance. I could only watch helplessly as she left. When I floated back into the station, I found Dad slumped in a chair, looking exhausted. Officer Miller saw him and couldn’t help but advise, “Dr. Miles, you’ve worked for twenty hours straight. You should go home and rest!” But Dad shook his head. “No, I’m a bit uneasy about this case… I’ll just rest here briefly, then go back and see if there are any more clues on the body.” “Uh… alright.” I watched Dad’s swaying body, both admiring his dedication and wishing he’d get some proper rest. … “The DNA results are in!” A shout echoed through the police station, instantly energizing everyone! Even I couldn’t help but feel a surge of tension! Dad, who had been staying at the station for two nights, rushed to the data room. “The database, has it been checked? Have you identified the victim?” “Still comparing. It’s taking a bit. Don’t rush!” Everyone gathered around the computer, nervously watching the progress bar crawl forward. 75%… 88%… 95%… 100%! Everyone held their breath, waiting for the final result.

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My wealthy wife would ‘gift’ me an investment property every time she spent the night at her male assistant’s place. Two years into our marriage, I held titles to 96 properties scattered across the city. Each one a stark reminder of the 96 times she’d wounded me. When the 97th property deed landed in my hands, her male assistant immediately sent me a taunting video. “So what if Celeste gives you money? I have her heart, her very being. What good is being an international supermodel if you still can’t even get your own wife into bed?” I didn’t stoop to his level. Instead, I thoughtfully mailed him a new, high-fashion outfit straight from the latest runway. When my wife found out about my generous gift, she rewarded me by inviting me to an exclusive high-society party with her. During a party game, her male assistant lost three times in a row and was dared to lick the cream off Cassie Vane’s thigh. He shattered a wine bottle, pressing the jagged edge to his throat, vowing not to comply. “Celeste, I refuse to let anyone humiliate me!” My usually aloof wife instantly panicked. She pleaded with me to take the punishment for him. “It’s just licking some cream. I promise that after this, I’ll go home and spend some quality time with you.” Everyone waited for me to make a fool of myself, but I quietly accepted without a fuss. She didn’t know this was the 97th time she’d hurt me. And I no longer wanted to be her plaything. I was simply waiting to repay her kindness for saving me. Once that was done, we’d have nothing left between us.

“Oh, the international supermodel actually agreed to lick it? What a woman Celeste is, she really knows how to handle her men!” “What if he doesn’t lick it, then? Are we really going to let Leo do it? That’s Celeste’s precious Leo, the one she’s always pined for!” The mocking chatter around me was incessant, and I felt nothing but humiliation amidst it all. Yet, amidst this sickening display of condescension, Celeste Kingston half-knelt in front of Leo Thorne, carefully applying a bandage to his neck. Then she turned, her eyes cold as she gestured at me. “Asher Hayes, don’t play games. Leo is waiting for you to finish so we can continue the game.” Leo, Leo… She only cared about Leo, never once asking if I was willing. She completely forgot I was her husband. Seeing me frozen, someone abruptly shoved me. “Why are you just standing there? Go on, lick it! You’re not backing out, are you?” I stumbled, regaining my balance, and looked at Celeste again. Her gaze was already fixed entirely on Leo once more. “Ninety-six times. This is the ninety-sixth time.” I silently counted, stiffly walking towards Cassandra Vane, the notorious socialite who had cream on her leg. But just as I stooped down, her hand suddenly clamped onto my chin. She looked at Leo. “Mr. Thorne, this isn’t right. You lost three rounds to me. Just one lick won’t do.” “How about the ‘Egg Challenge’? If you can convince him to do it, the punishment is null and void.” The ‘Egg Challenge’? What in the world was that?! An unknown dread immediately surged through me. I quickly looked to Celeste. But the next second, Leo was already looking at Celeste with pleading eyes, clinging to her arm, whimpering playfully. “Celeste, it’s just a dare. Can you get Asher to agree just this once…?” Seeing Leo’s fragile body trembling, Celeste was filled with nothing but tenderness. Her eyes blazed as she looked at me. “Asher, you’re willing to lick cream, so you won’t mind taking another dare for Leo, right?” “Yay! Thank you, Celeste!” Leo jumped up, beaming with triumph. Watching Celeste gently ruffle Leo’s hair, her expression doting and indulgent, I started to laugh. My dignity had been trampled. I was nothing but a toy, to be tormented and played with. Celeste, how could you be so heartless as to make me perform some twisted act, to be humiliated for him again? Oh, right, I almost forgot. Leo was her unattainable moon. She’d pursued him for years with no success. Then, their families had torn them apart, and Leo had left the country overnight. Now that she finally had what she desired, how could I possibly compete? Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I spoke stiffly. “So, does that count as a forgiveness voucher?” A forgiveness voucher? Everyone laughed at my strange question, but Celeste suddenly looked at me. She knew what I was talking about. After a moment, she nodded. “It counts!” I gave a bitter laugh. “Alright, I agree.” Eight years ago, I had just entered the modeling world when I was noticed by a powerful, ruthless circle of women, who essentially confined me on an island. There, alongside other young men, I became their… ‘entertainment.’ I was lucky. Celeste Kingston was the first woman I met there, and she fell for me instantly. For my sake, she systematically took over their businesses, ensured they ended up behind bars, and rescued me from that life. Only later did I learn that my features bore an uncanny resemblance to Leo’s. But on the night I was rescued, I asked her how I could repay her kindness. Her eyes were sincere. “Marry me.” I gave her a playful squeeze. “I’m serious.” Her breath hitched as she clung to me, her words a tangled whisper: “Then… give me ninety-nine forgiveness vouchers.” “Forgiveness vouchers?” I was curious, clinging to her, not understanding. At that moment, she smiled. “Silly boy. If—and I mean *if*—if one day, I hurt you ninety-nine times, I’ll use these vouchers to make you forgive me ninety-nine times. Once the vouchers are used up, this debt of gratitude will be paid off.” For the next five years, she poured massive resources into my career, turning me into an international supermodel. She cherished me like precious treasure. Until two months ago, when Leo returned. Everything changed. This was the 97th time. Just two more. My debt would be repaid. Seeing Celeste agree, Cassie Vane pulled me into her private VIP room, a dimly lit chamber draped in silk. Boiled eggs were scattered across a low table, and on the floor, two or three men lay in disheveled heaps, a cloying scent of decay and degradation hanging in the air. A shiver of dread crawled up my spine. My blood ran cold. So the “eggs” Leo talked about meant… stuffing them into a private place… Celeste, who had followed us in, suddenly stiffened, her pupils constricting. She turned to Leo. “Wasn’t it about eating eggs?! What is this?” But Leo ignored her. He simply pushed me forward. “Cassie, Mr. Hayes used to be a dancer, his flexibility is sure to… impress you.” “Don’t you want to try it yourself? Challenge the limits?” As Leo’s words fell, I, already terrified, trembled violently and immediately looked to Celeste for help. At the very least, I was still her husband. She had loved me once. Though she’d put me through a lot for Leo, she wouldn’t really hand me over to a pervert, would she? But to my shock, the next second, Celeste walked to the table, poured a glass of wine, and pressed it into my hand. “Why don’t you offer Cassie a toast? Get this party started, Asher.” Get the party started? Was she serious? She… she actually agreed? In a daze, I saw Leo give me a strange, knowing smile. “Asher! Didn’t you hear Celeste?” As I watched Leo approach, unsure what to do, he suddenly kicked me in the knee. My body instantly lost balance, and the wine in my hand splashed across Cassie Vane’s face. Then I fell onto the shattered glass, my arm instantly gushing with several cuts. My eyes met the twisted, pale face of one of the men on the floor. Leo’s sharp accusation rang in my ears: “Asher, if you don’t want to toast, just say so! There’s no need to pretend to be crazy to provoke Cassie. Is that how Celeste’s husband acts? You’re just trying to embarrass Celeste!” Cassie’s expression froze for a moment, then she reacted, her eyes widening as she looked at me. “You… you’re the rumored husband of Celeste Kingston?” I was speechless, slumped on the floor, my body and heart aching almost to the point of suffocation. Cassie reached out to grab my arm, but Celeste immediately caught her wrist. Celeste’s gaze swept over my blood-soaked face. Her eyes suddenly turned dark and chilling as she looked at Cassie, gritting her teeth. “Get out!” Cassie was intimidated. She could only swallow her anger and slink away, muttering under her breath as she left. “Celeste Kingston! You’re crazy! If I’d known you were this lunatic’s husband, I wouldn’t have touched him!” As Cassie disappeared, I tried to get up, but a large hand clamped onto my arm again. “Asher, you’re happy you didn’t have to take the punishment, aren’t you? Did those two years on the island teach you nothing about obedience?” “All you had to do was offer a toast, and this whole thing would’ve been over. Why did you have to play crazy? You knew perfectly well that by asking you to toast, I wanted to end this! Are you blind?” As I stared at an enraged Celeste, my bloodshot eyes were my only answer. This time, I finally didn’t hold back. I retorted: “Celeste Kingston! I’m your husband! If you had just stated my identity, this whole thing could have been resolved just as easily!” My words were clear. It was *her*. It was her vanity, her desire to protect Leo at that moment, that made her keep my identity secret. My accusation hit a nerve. Celeste looked momentarily flustered. Seeing this, Leo tried to interject on her behalf. But Celeste, unusually, frowned and cut him off. “Enough! Shut up, go wait for me in the car.” Once his footsteps faded, she sighed. “I’m sorry, but I still need to explain. I genuinely didn’t know what the ‘Egg Challenge’ meant. If I had, I never would have agreed in the first place.” “As for Leo, I hope you can understand. After all, he just returned to the country and saw that I was married…” Celeste’s words trailed off, but I could still guess the rest. She wanted to say that Leo was upset about her marriage and deliberately made things difficult for me, so I should forgive him. Our eyes met. Celeste seemed to grasp the mockery in my gaze, and she sighed again. “Alright, I see you’re hurt. I’ll have the driver take you to the hospital. Leo’s not doing well, I need to check on him. We can discuss this more when I get back.” Without waiting for my reply, she added, “Even though you didn’t complete the task, I’ll allow you to count it as a forgiveness voucher.” With that, she turned and left. Watching her walk away, I touched my still bleeding forehead and laughed out loud. But I didn’t care anymore. Two more times. Once the debt of gratitude was paid, I would leave. From then on, I wouldn’t suffer her indignities anymore.

The driver took me home. It was late, and Celeste hadn’t returned. I didn’t ask. The next day, her assistant delivered her gifts: two commercial property deeds. She had specifically emphasized that one was compensation for forcing me to lick the cream, and the other was an apology for making me do the ‘Egg Challenge.’ I expressionlessly labeled the deeds 96 and 97, then casually tossed them into the safe. Next to me, Mrs. Davis, the servant, gave a knowing, doting smile. “Madam Kingston certainly spoils you, Mr. Hayes. These gifts are becoming more and more frequent.” I smiled without a word. She didn’t know these were just Celeste’s compensations each time she hurt me. Looking at the overflowing safe, I knew I would be leaving soon. But before I left, I only wanted to take one thing: a camera containing something I had to destroy. Celeste had a strong exploratory curiosity when it came to intimacy. In moments of passion, she would impulsively use the camera to record us. Before, those videos were just a part of our marital fun. But now, I didn’t want them to remain. If they were ever exposed, my life would be ruined. I searched every corner of the room, but I couldn’t find the camera. Just as I was about to search again, Mr. Harrison, my agent, called, his voice booming with rage. “Asher Hayes, have you lost your mind? Look online, private photos of you are everywhere! How dare you secretly accompany other wealthy women behind Celeste’s back? If you want to die, don’t drag the whole company down with you!” In an instant, my mind exploded. I only heard my agent’s last line. “You’d better give me an explanation for the online videos immediately! And Celeste’s fury… otherwise, we’ll haunt you even from the grave!” The call ended. I quickly opened my phone. The top trend was a series of my private videos. And the bold, explosive headline: **[International Supermodel Asher Hayes Sleeps His Way To The Top]**. Celeste was pixilated, but my face was clearly visible in the center, flushed with desire. Millions of netizens were online, spewing hateful comments, calling me a slut for sleeping with multiple wealthy women for resources, a man who could be used by anyone. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor. But in the last moment of exhaustion, Celeste, who had suddenly appeared, firmly caught me in her arms. “Don’t look at those. It’s okay. I’ll handle it. Trust me!” Her comforting words had barely faded when she turned, her face cold, and roared at everyone in the room. “Who did this! Tell me! Who did this!” Seeing her raw, unbridled fury, my eyes instantly stung with tears. At the same time, Leo’s casual voice drifted into the room. “Celeste, you mean the videos? I uploaded them!” The hand wrapped around my waist tightened abruptly. Celeste and I simultaneously looked at Leo. “Don’t look at me like that! I just happened to see them and thought Asher’s body was too amazing to be seen only by you, Celeste. What a waste! So I took it upon myself to share them!” “After all, beautiful things are meant to be shared for everyone to enjoy, right?” Immediately, blood rushed to my head. I stood up to slap Leo, but Celeste firmly caught my hand. “Asher! That’s enough!” I was grief-stricken and furious. I shouted, “But he…” To my surprise, before I could finish, Celeste glanced at a triumphant Leo, then turned back to me, frowning. “I’ll have the trending topics taken down. This matter ends here. Don’t cause trouble for Leo, okay? You know, he’s just…” “No! Celeste, why should I let it go?! He’s ruined my reputation! Why should I let it go?!” “I’m going to sue him for defamation! He has to pay for this!” My bloodshot eyes met Celeste’s, refusing to back down even an inch. “Asher! You!” Celeste took a sharp breath, about to continue persuading me. But Leo tugged at Celeste’s sleeve, feigning sobs, his eyes red. “Celeste! Don’t say anymore. I know I was wrong. Just let Asher sue me. It’s my fault for being jealous, jealous that Asher married you. It’s all my fault! If only I had tried harder back then!” As he spoke, Leo’s eyes turned red, and he actually started to sob. “Asher, I truly know I was wrong. I’ll get on my knees and apologize to you. Please, don’t make things difficult for Celeste.” “Whatever makes you happy. I’ll go confess right now and clear your name! What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll be ruined too. But please, don’t let this ruin your relationship with Celeste.” Seeing Leo about to kneel to me, Celeste’s eyes turned icy again, and she said to me in a low voice: “Asher! Leo already knows he made a mistake. It’s best to be merciful when you can.” “Anyway, your reputation is already gone. Why don’t you just retire from the industry and live a life of leisure as a wealthy young man at home? Wouldn’t that be better?” I was shocked by her blindness, disbelieving that Celeste would still indulge him to this extent. I was about to say more, but the next second, I received a stinging slap across my face. My cheek burned. Her knuckles were red, her breathing ragged, and a never-before-seen violence surged in her eyes. She threw a disclaimer at me. “Be a good boy and sign this. Once the storm passes, I’ll help you make a comeback.” “But if you dare to call the police again, don’t even think about stepping out of this door!” “I won’t sign!” I gritted my teeth, staring fiercely at her. But no matter how I struggled, how I refused to sign, Celeste forcibly pressed my handprint onto the disclaimer. The moment I collapsed to the floor, exhausted. An unprecedented sense of powerlessness and piercing pain swept over my entire body, like a thousand needles pricking my heart. They left, their casual conversation like venomous insects burrowing into my ears: “Celeste, is Asher okay…?” “He’s fine. As long as he wants to make a comeback, he’ll listen to me. At worst…” “I’ll give him a forgiveness voucher. There are still dozens left anyway. He’ll be obedient.” No, there weren’t. Only one last one remained. Celeste Kingston, I won’t be your puppet anymore. I lay stunned on the floor for a long time before returning to my room and retrieving my journal. Though everyone said the modeling industry wasn’t much cleaner than entertainment, I truly loved my career. Standing on that runway, enveloped by the spotlight, that surge of confidence was where I found my worth. But now, it was utterly destroyed. Perhaps even fate was telling me it was time to leave, to let go. Tears streaming, I wrote about the day’s events in my journal, ending with “98.” Each time she hurt me, I would record it in my journal, reminding myself not to soften. But then, Celeste’s voice suddenly came from behind me. “What does 98 mean?”

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To repay Aunt Clara for her kindness in raising me, I stepped in for my cousin. I married Mira Sterling, the eldest daughter of the prominent Sterling family, who suffered from autism. For seven years, she was nothing but cold to me. I swallowed my pride, even tried to climb into her bed. But all I got in return was endless ridicule and scorn. Later, I successfully organized a painting exhibition for her. Yet, in front of me, she took another man’s hand. I knew then. My mission was complete. It was time to leave. To outsiders, my marriage into the Sterling family was an act of destiny, a stroke of good fortune. As one of the most renowned old-money families in the city, the Sterlings typically arranged strategic business marriages. And I? I was just a discarded orphan, living under someone else’s roof. I was only six when my parents died. More than sadness, I felt a gripping fear for the future. My uncles, caught in a bitter fight over the family inheritance, couldn’t stand the sight of me. They claimed I was cursed, a jinx, and none of them wanted the responsibility. So, they decided to send me to an orphanage. I didn’t want to go. I’d heard stories of a monster there that ate kids who didn’t sleep. Desperate, I found my father’s old phone and tried calling Aunt Clara. It was my first time reaching out to any of my father’s relatives. He’d been a scion of a wealthy family himself, but he’d cut ties with them all to marry my mother. Aunt Clara listened to my plea, then hung up without a word. I tried to console myself. My father had hurt her deeply; it was only natural she wouldn’t want to deal with me. But for some reason, the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing, no matter how much I wiped. The next morning, I woke up early, packed my backpack, and prepared to run away. I’d rather go hungry and sleep under a bridge than be eaten by some monster. But the moment I slipped out of my room, I bumped into a woman. I recognized her instantly—it was Aunt Clara. She looked so much like my father. Aunt Clara gently touched my head and asked if I’d had breakfast. I shook my head. She picked me up, carried me to her car, and drove me back to her home. My grandparents had passed away long ago. Aunt Clara frowned, looking at my thin, gaunt frame. “I have Liam and Lily to look after; I don’t have time for him. You brought this trouble home, you deal with it yourself,” my uncle snapped. “Don’t worry, he’s a good kid. Just give him food, and he’ll manage everything else on his own,” Aunt Clara replied, though a little hesitantly. To prove Aunt Clara right, I started teaching myself to eat, dress, go to school, and sleep independently. Beyond that, I proactively helped look after my younger cousin, Lily. My cousin Liam, who was only two months older than me, was a proud young master. Growing up, he never called me his younger brother. Instead, he treated me like a servant, barking orders. But I never got angry. Everyone has their fate. He certainly had reasons to be proud. For me, just growing up safely and healthily felt like a miracle. After high school, Aunt Clara wanted to send Liam and me to study in the UK. But Mira Sterling’s appearance completely derailed all our plans.

She came with Mrs. Sterling to propose marriage to Liam. My grandfather, when he was alive, had indeed arranged a childhood engagement with Mr. Sterling. It was a casual remark made over drinks, a jest, and I never imagined Mrs. Sterling would take it seriously. The atmosphere in the living room grew awkward. Mira, who had been silently staring at the floor, suddenly stood up and walked towards the backyard. Aunt Clara quickly told me to follow her, instructing me to look after her carefully. At first, I didn’t know she had autism. I just found it odd how rude this Miss Sterling was. It was late spring, early summer, and the roses in the garden were blooming in vibrant, delicate hues. Mira, as if by magic, pulled a canvas and easel from her backpack and began to paint with intense focus. I didn’t dare disturb her, so I stood silently behind her, just watching. It’s no exaggeration to say Mira was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had stunning bone structure, flawless, porcelain skin. Her eyes, deep enough to make your heart skip a beat, exuded an aristocratic aura. Just as I was silently marveling at how some people just hit the genetic lottery, something dramatic happened. Mira seemed intensely dissatisfied with her painting. With a frustrated growl, she crumpled the canvas into a ball. I wanted to offer some comfort, but she suddenly reached out and squeezed the sharp thorns on a rose stem. Blood instantly welled up and trickled down her hand, but she didn’t seem to feel any pain. Instead, she tilted her head, looking thoughtful, as if observing something profound. “Let go! Please, let go!” I was frantic, like a cat on a hot tin roof. Miss Sterling was a distinguished guest of the Sterling family. If she got hurt under my watch, who knew how much trouble it would cause Aunt Clara. I yelled loudly, but she didn’t react at all. Left with no choice, I reached out to grab her arm. The moment my hand touched her sleeve, she suddenly flew into a rage, shoving me hard to the ground. I was terrified. Her expression was absolutely horrifying. I even thought she would hit me. But she didn’t. She just turned back and continued painting. Mrs. Sterling, hearing the commotion, rushed over. She was clearly used to such incidents and quickly led her daughter away. After they left, Liam burst into tears. “I don’t want to marry her! I want to go to the UK! If you dare force me, I’ll end it right here!” Aunt Clara’s heart ached, but beneath it was a profound sense of helplessness. The bulk of our family’s business relied on the Sterlings. Offending Mrs. Sterling would have unimaginable consequences. Aunt Clara tried to comfort her son while secretly glancing at me. “The family doesn’t have just one son, why are you always looking at Liam?!” my uncle questioned. Liam nodded furiously. “Exactly! Let Owen marry her! Mom and Dad have raised him for so many years; it can’t be for nothing.” “What nonsense are you talking about? Miss Sterling has autism! How could I possibly push Owen into such a difficult situation?!” Aunt Clara retorted, her voice strained. “So you’d rather your own son jump into that difficult situation…”

Aunt Clara and my uncle argued all night. I hid in my room, listening in silence, my decision already made. The next day, I told Aunt Clara that I was willing to take Liam’s place and marry into the Sterling family. “Liam is right. You and Uncle have been so good to me. Now it’s my turn to repay you.” Aunt Clara’s eyes welled up. She took my hand, wanting to say something, but ultimately, no words came out. Because Mira had special needs, the wedding was very simple. I thought her willingness to marry meant she was ready to share her life with me. But I was wrong. On our wedding night, the moment I stepped into the bridal room, her face hardened. “Get out!” “This is my room,” I protested. “You are not allowed to sleep here.” I tried to reason with her, to explain the meaning of marriage. But she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she tore down all the red wedding decorations plastered around the room. I was filled with helplessness and had no choice but to turn around and leave in shame. My mother-in-law, seeing the scene, sighed deeply and called me into her study. She told me that Mira wasn’t inherently bad, just reclusive and unwilling to interact with people. Since I had married her, I had to take on the responsibility of caring for my wife. She believed that if I was devoted enough, I could definitely help Mira open up her heart and accept me. I decided to try. Caring for someone with autism was both mentally and physically exhausting. Every day, I personally cooked her three meals, reminded her to take her medication on time, and accompanied her to her follow-up appointments. To understand her more thoroughly, I bought every book I could find on autism, immersing myself in them until the early hours of the morning. My efforts gradually yielded results. Mira slowly adapted to my presence, no longer resisting me as she had at first. I was allowed to ride in the same car as her, or sit at the same table for meals. Knowing I liked fruit, she would meticulously arrange a beautiful fruit platter for me with her own hands. I had low immunity and often caught colds or fevers, so she would bring me ginger tea and force me to drink it. Time passed quickly, and the seasons flowed by. We both grew accustomed to this routine. The only dissatisfied person was my mother-in-law. Every few days, she would call me for a talk, her sole purpose being to pressure me to have a baby. Forced into a corner, I had to be direct. Mira was completely unaware of intimate matters, and she wouldn’t even let me sleep in the same bed as her. My mother-in-law, exasperated, sent Mira to the hospital for a check-up. The doctor said there was nothing wrong with her physically; she just couldn’t overcome her psychological barriers and accept such intimacy. “It all comes back to you,” my mother-in-law fumed. “Can’t you find a way to make her fall in love with you?!” I was lost and bewildered. What was love? I didn’t even know myself, let alone Mira.

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Five months pregnant, my husband, David Miller, secured approval for family relocation on base, yet he had no intention of bringing me. “Audrey, Leah’s husband died saving my life. I owe them everything.” “Just wait a little longer. In six months, I promise I’ll come for you and Mom.” I waited year after year. At first, my husband would still send letters, but then, complete radio silence. The local scoundrel, seeing my family’s vulnerability, came to force me into becoming his woman. To protect me, my mother-in-law, Martha, was beaten to death with a wooden club. My daughter was thrown into a well and drowned. David finally came back, only to curse me, calling me a loose woman who had caused our whole family’s demise. He forced me to sign divorce papers, then turned around and held a city-wide sensational wedding with his ‘benefactor’s’ widow. While they feasted in their sprawling mansion, I was left to starve to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—the day before that scoundrel showed up. This time, I vow to lead Martha and Daisy to the life that should have been ours!

“Audrey, why don’t you go hide somewhere?” “When Butch comes tomorrow, he’ll see it’s just me and Daisy. He won’t touch us.” Mom, her back stooped, looked at me with a worried expression, pleading. I shook my head, hearing her words. “No, Mom.” In my last life, I listened to Mom and hid in the mountains. Who knew that monster, Butch, would fly into a rage when he didn’t find me? He beat Mom to death with a wooden club. Neighbors said Mom was bleeding all over, and before she closed her eyes, she was still thinking of me: “If I’m gone, how hard will it be for Audrey to take care of the child alone?” And Daisy, for biting Butch, was directly thrown into the well. Her heart-wrenching screams abruptly ceased. Daisy was gone, her body swollen from the water. This time, I would never allow such a tragedy to happen again. I looked at my daughter, gaunt and pale from malnutrition, then at Mom, barely fifty but looking eighty. A decision solidified in my heart! “Mom, we’re going to the base to find David!” “Otherwise, even if Butch doesn’t come for us, we’ll starve to death anyway!” “Alright… alright.” Mom roughly wiped away her tears with her threadbare sleeve. “Since you’ve decided, Mom supports you.” “Are we going to find Dad?” A spark of excitement lit up Daisy’s eyes. “Yes!” I nodded firmly. No sooner said than done. I packed the last three potatoes we had in my pocket and set off with Mom and Daisy. We walked and rested, asking for directions until we finally found Major Miller’s unit, the 211th. Staring at the solemn, imposing gates of the military base, a sarcastic smile touched my lips. So, the 211th Unit’s base was this close. Barely a ten-mile distance, yet David hadn’t come home in three years, not even a single letter. Did he know that, in those three years, our home had run out of everything? Mom and I lived by digging wild vegetables and begging every day. My poor daughter, so young, suffered countless stares and insults alongside us. The entire village bullied us. Butch tried every trick to take advantage of me. And my husband… was ‘serving his country with utmost loyalty’ barely a stone’s throw from home! How… ironic! I held my frail daughter in one arm and supported my limping mother-in-law with the other, walking towards the guard post. “Officer, who can I help you with?” “David Miller.” “Major Miller?” The guard’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Strange, isn’t the Major an orphan?” The guard mumbled softly, then as if something clicked, a look of realization flashed in his eyes. “Ah, I get it! You must be relatives of the Major’s wife!” I froze. The Major’s wife? Then who was I? Just as I was about to ask, a familiar voice suddenly called out from behind me. “Audrey!” I turned to see David Miller. Compared to when he left, he seemed stronger and more handsome. “What are you doing here?” David’s face was filled with shock as he quickly walked towards us. “Major Miller, they’re relatives of your wife.” The guard eagerly explained. Hearing this, David’s face turned grim. He pulled us aside. “This is outrageous! Showing up without a word, acting on your own! What gave you the nerve?!” David looked utterly displeased. Mom was stunned, her face etched with confusion. “Son, who is he talking about? Whose wife?” David’s face stiffened. Daisy, oblivious to the tension, excitedly hugged David’s leg: “Are you my dad?” “Shut up!” David barked, glaring fiercely at Daisy. Just then, the guard not far away suddenly called out, “Mrs. Miller, you have visitors!” David quickly pushed Daisy away. He pushed too hard, and Daisy fell heavily to the ground.

Thud! Daisy’s head hit the ground, and instantly, blood welled up. “It hurts so much! Mom!” Daisy wailed. Watching her forehead swell rapidly, my heart ached. I quickly knelt down, gathered Daisy into my arms, and gently comforted her: “It’s okay, Daisy, Mom will make it feel better.” “David! How could you?! Why would you hit a child so hard?!” Mom’s eyes flashed with resentment. For the past three years, Daisy had been her precious little girl. She’d rather starve than let Daisy go without, always giving her the last potato. Now seeing her granddaughter injured, a flicker of anger ignited towards her son, who hadn’t returned home in so long. “David, who *are* these people?” The woman sashayed over to us, her eyes openly contemptuous. I looked up at her. She wore a designer dress, the form-fitting waistline accentuating her perfect figure. Her makeup was exquisite, her hair fashionably curled, and a faint sweet scent wafted from her. As for the white heels she wore, I’d seen them in town—they cost a fortune, easily twenty dollars. Then I looked at myself: a faded, patched, and worn old dress, my canvas shoes torn at the front, my big toe peeking through. My sun-baked face was covered in burn marks. No wonder… David hadn’t wanted to come home in three years. With a beauty like her by his side, he probably long forgot about his long-suffering wife. “Leah, what are you doing here?” David looked a bit awkward. “I was just heading to the daycare to pick up Leo.” Then, she pointedly glanced at me: “Aren’t you going to introduce us, David?” “This is… my mother, my daughter, and… my wife.” David’s voice grew softer with each word, the last two barely a whisper. Hearing this, Leah’s face stiffened, a flicker of displeasure flashing in her eyes. “Audrey, this is Captain Miller’s widow, whom I’m looking after.” David looked at me. But I didn’t respond. I’d known who she was all along. In my last life, after David forced me to divorce, he turned around and threw a city-wide sensational wedding with Leah Stewart. Leah, adorned in an expensive Western-style wedding gown, dripping in gold rings, earrings, and necklaces, shone like a movie star. Meanwhile, I was barely clothed, collapsing on the street after three days without food. How could I forget her? “Mrs. Miller, why didn’t you notify us you were coming?” Leah spoke politely, as if she were the lady of the house, exchanging pleasantries. A sarcastic smile touched my lips. “Do I need to notify someone to visit my husband?” “And please, don’t call me ‘Mrs. Miller’. What if those guards over there misunderstand?” Hearing this, Leah’s face turned grim. Seeing her expression, David quickly explained: “Audrey, you know military regulations are pretty strict. Only official family members can live on base.” “That’s why I asked Leah to pretend to be my wife. But we’re completely innocent, you have to believe me.” “That’s right, Mrs. Miller. It’s thanks to David’s help all these years. I truly don’t know how to thank your family enough.” Watching their sickening charade, my stomach churned. I was utterly disgusted. I really didn’t want to say another word to Leah. I looked at David, my voice cold: “Daisy’s head is bleeding. Take us to the base clinic to get it bandaged now.” “But…” David looked hesitant. “What’s wrong? You can’t even do this small thing?” I was getting angry. Leah, seeing my frustration, smiled sweetly and pulled David behind her: “Mrs. Miller, let me explain this to you.” **截断点**

“Mrs. Miller, the medical clinic on base has a limited supply of medicine. David’s quota for this month has already been used for my son, Leo.” “So it’s not that he doesn’t want to take you, it’s that there’s no point.” Leah pretended to be helping David, but her eyes were filled with triumph. My anger flared. “Daisy is your own daughter!” I roared at David. “Keep your voice down!” “Come home with me first! We’ll talk there!” With that, David scooped up Daisy and strode forward. Seeing this, I had no choice but to help Mom follow. “Wow! Dad, is this where I’m going to live? It’s so big and beautiful!” As soon as we entered the house, Daisy excitedly exclaimed. I looked around. There was even a black and white television in the living room. Even though I already knew David was living a comfortable life, I was still stunned. Even the wealthiest families in our village didn’t have a TV. After all, it was a luxury money couldn’t always buy. I couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it, but David quickly snapped: “Don’t touch it! If you break it, Leo won’t be able to watch cartoons tonight.” Hearing his words, my heart ached. Leo? He’s so ‘dedicated’ to raising someone else’s son. But what about his own biological daughter? Daisy is three, and she’s barely had a proper meal. Is he even human? I looked at David coldly: “Didn’t we agree that you’d send your military pay and allowance home every month? Why didn’t you do that?” “Audrey, you need to be more understanding.” David frowned. “It’s tough for me on base. I have to take care of Leah and her child, and I also have to spend money to grease the wheels with my superiors. I don’t have any extra.” “Besides… you three don’t really have any expenses in the village anyway!” “You shouldn’t be so demanding!” Hearing this, Mom’s eyes flashed with disbelief: “David, are you even speaking like a human being?” “Do you have any idea how hard Audrey worked? She was out in the fields, working back-breaking hours, even right after giving birth to Daisy, and you call her demanding?” “If we hadn’t come to find you today, the three of us would have starved to death!” Mom’s old tears streamed down her face as she spoke. Just then, Leah returned with her son, Leo. “Who are you? Why are you touching my toy!” Seeing the toy car in Daisy’s hand, Leo yelled unhappily. Daisy flinched, her voice trembling slightly: “Dad let me play with it.” “You little brat, who’s your dad?!” With that, Leo lunged forward, trying to snatch the toy car from Daisy’s hands. I looked at Leah with cold eyes: “Is this how you teach your child?” “Mrs. Miller, kids say the darndest things, don’t take it to heart.” Leah smiled sweetly. Just then, Leo suddenly bit Daisy. Daisy cried out in pain and instinctively pushed Leo. Leo tumbled backward and sat on the floor, wailing aggrievedly. “Dad, Mom, she bullied me!” Leo looked at Leah and David. Their hearts immediately ached. “Daisy! Who told you to hit people?!” David roared. Leah, hugging Leo, looked utterly wronged: “David, since your family is here, Leo and I will just leave. Why would you let your daughter bully Leo like this?” “I… I didn’t.” David stammered, trying to explain. Leah said nothing, just silently let the tears fall. Seeing this, David actually turned his anger towards Daisy. “You brat! Who told you to hit people!” With that, David raised his hand and harshly slapped Daisy across the face. *Smack!* Daisy flew backward, her head hitting the television cabinet with a sickening thud. “Daisy!” I cried out in alarm! “David Miller! You monster! How could you hit your own daughter like that!” I shrieked, rushing towards Daisy.

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It was almost eleven PM when Jaxson Hayes announced he wanted homemade soup. Despite a raging fever, I dragged my exhausted body, carrying the hearty corn and rib soup that had simmered for three hours, to the entrance of the bar. The moment I stepped inside, a bucket of water splashed all over me, chilling me to the bone. “Hahaha, I told you Simp Aubrey would show up! What’s a fever? She even came rushing over like a loyal puppy when she was in the hospital with a broken leg, just because Jaxson called.” “Simp Aubrey, heard you’re running a fever. We’re just helping you cool down, so you really ought to thank us.” Jaxson took the thermos from my hands, then, right in front of me, poured the soup into the trash bin. “Aubrey Miller, what you make is so bad even a dog wouldn’t touch it. You seriously expected *me* to eat it?” Listening to their collective mockery, it finally hit me: this was just another one of his cruel little charades, all to amuse his delicate childhood sweetheart. Seeing my silence, Jaxson tossed our engagement ring into the cheering crowd: “Aubrey Miller, I won’t be showing up to our wedding in three days. Either find some random guy to marry, or get ready for the ultimate public humiliation with your power-hungry dad.” But later, when I truly walked down the aisle, arm-in-arm with my new groom, Jaxson Hayes was on his knees, sobbing, begging me to come back. 0

I knocked on the VIP room door, holding the hearty corn and rib soup that had simmered for three hours. Maybe the music was too loud, or maybe they were intentionally trying to humiliate me, but I had to knock for five minutes before they finally let me in. The moment I stepped inside, a bucket of water splashed all over me, chilling me to the bone. “Hahaha, I told you Simp Aubrey would show up! What’s a fever? She even came rushing over like a loyal puppy when she was in the hospital with a broken leg, just because Jaxson called.” “Simp Aubrey, heard you’re running a fever. We’re just helping you cool down, so you really ought to thank us.” “Simp Aubrey is really something, huh? Always good for a fresh laugh.” Wave after wave of mockery hammered at my ears, making me clench my hand around the insulated container. Water dripped from my dress, and drops from my hair clung to my lashes like unshed tears. I bit back the chattering of my teeth, swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, and said softly, “Jaxson Hayes, your soup.” “Ohh~ Jaxson Hayes, *your* soup~” Listening to their passive-aggressive jabs, Willow Jenkins, Jaxson’s childhood sweetheart, who was practically glowing in the center of their adoration, chose that moment to flash a mocking smile. Jaxson finally stood up from the VIP booth and slowly walked towards me. He casually brushed the damp hair from my cheek, his tone almost too light. “Really, Aubrey, that was too much trouble for you. You’re not mad, are you?” “Look, guys, you went too far with that joke. Aubrey’s sick, and she still dragged herself here to make soup for everyone. We should be thanking her, not this.” I thought he was genuinely realizing he’d gone too far and was about to say it was nothing, when Jaxson, right in front of me, poured every last drop of the soup into the overflowing trash bin. His voice was gentle, but his words felt like a knife twisting in my gut. “But Aubrey, didn’t I tell you? What you make is so bad even a dog wouldn’t touch it. How could *I* possibly eat it?” I silently met Jaxson’s gaze. My fever-addled brain spun, making me stumble two steps back. Jaxson instinctively flinched away, leaving me unsupported. My head slammed hard against the doorframe, a dull thud echoing in the sudden silence. Jaxson’s expression was laced with mockery. “Stop acting all delicate with me, Aubrey. You gave a speech steady as a rock even with a broken leg, and you’d rush to my side after a car crash with just one call. Now you’re just running a fever, so why the sudden damsel-in-distress act?” “If you think this little stunt will grab my attention, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not feeling any sympathy.” “So, Aubrey, if you know what’s good for you, tell your dad to call off our engagement himself. You’ve been clinging to me, begging me daily. You might not have any shame, but *I* do. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have you following me around all the time?” It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart, draining the color from my face. I knew Jaxson resented me because of our arranged engagement. But this was the first time I’d truly realized that the person who stood before me as a child, promising to protect me forever, had vanished into the unforgiving currents of time. I braced myself against the wall, barely managing to stand steady. Before I could even speak, amidst their jeers, Jaxson tossed the ring I had lovingly made for him into the screaming crowd: “Aubrey Miller, I won’t be showing up to our wedding in three days. Either find some random guy to marry, or get ready for the ultimate public humiliation with your power-hungry dad.” I watched his smug grin, and a genuine, almost relieved, laugh bubbled out of me. “Good.” *** 0

“What?” “I said, ‘Good.’ I’ll find a new groom.” Everyone immediately burst into laughter. “Aubrey Miller, everyone knows you’ve been so obsessed with Jaxson, you haven’t even had a male mosquito buzz near you! And you think *now* you’ll find a new groom? What, do you think this will make Jaxson regret it?” “I think she’s been reading too many romance novels, her brain’s fried. Seriously, you think if you just marry some random guy, Jaxson will suddenly regret it and chase you down like in those ‘chase-the-wife-to-the-crematorium’ plots? Is that it? You actually believe there are that many ‘gonna-regret-it-and-grovel’ storylines in real life?” “Seriously! You think this will threaten Jaxson? Aubrey, don’t flatter yourself.” Jaxson paused for a second, then, hearing everyone’s comments, he too started laughing. “Aubrey Miller, you actually *said* that fake nonsense? Fine, go find a groom. I’d like to see who in high society would dare marry you. Or are you planning to hire some actor to put on a show so your family doesn’t look too bad? No way, no way, the supposedly most brilliant socialite of the city, Aubrey Miller, can’t even find a man willing to marry her?” Amidst their rising tide of mockery, Willow Jenkins lightly coughed twice and walked to Jaxson’s side. “Jaxson, how can you talk to a girl like that? Aubrey is still a girl, after all. Aubrey, I’m so sorry, Jaxson just isn’t very good with words. Please don’t hold it against him. Your families’ engagement was decided by your parents, so no matter how upset you are, you can’t joke about something like this.” “Aubrey, honestly, what happened today… it’s partly my fault too. I didn’t know you had a fever. I thought you just didn’t want to see me, and Jaxson and the others were just trying to defend me. I’m so sorry. Can you please not blame them?” I watched Willow’s eyes well up before I’d even said a word, and I just found her hypocrisy utterly laughable. She was the one who orchestrated this entire scene, yet now she was pretending to apologize to me. Before Willow Jenkins came back, I was still Jaxson’s fiancée, someone he needed to cherish and protect. He used to brave three hours in a freezing winter storm to buy me that artisanal pastry I’d casually mentioned wanting. He used to drive five hours, exhausted, just to be by my side and meticulously care for me when he knew I was sick. He used to unwaveringly stand in front of me, declaring to everyone that hurting me meant hurting him. It was his consistent kindness, day after day, that made me accept his proposal. Yes, our marriage wasn’t some arranged alliance, as the rumors claimed. Jaxson actually had to work hard to earn my parents’ approval before he even *dared* to propose. But ever since Willow Jenkins returned, everything changed. Honestly, at first, I even wanted to get along with Willow. I even rushed around, getting her appointments with the best doctors when I heard she was sickly. But all my good intentions were shattered by one of Willow’s dramatic outbursts: “Just because I’m not strong, does that mean I don’t deserve to hang out with you all?” After that, Jaxson and I somehow reached a point of mutual disgust. I can’t even count how many times we argued over Willow this past year, or how many times I watched Jaxson’s retreating back, filled with absolute resolve. At first, I even thought Jaxson had suddenly gotten amnesia, like some cheap plot twist in a bad romance novel, which was why his attitude towards me had plummeted. So, I had indulged his every whim during this time, just to keep our shaky relationship afloat. But then, yesterday, I overheard Jaxson complaining to his friends: “Aubrey Miller’s fine, I guess, but constantly doting on her? It’s exhausting. And we’re engaged, but she still won’t let me touch her, like I was from the 18th century. What if she’s a dead fish in bed once we’re married?” “Besides, I’ve been spoiling her for so long, it’s about time I broke her a little, taught her who wears the pants in this relationship. Wouldn’t want her walking all over me once we’re married.” I don’t remember how I left the Hayes’ mansion that day. All I remember is regaining consciousness to find myself getting an IV drip. Coming to the bar with the insulated container was purely out of habit, pure instinct. But that bucket of water just now splashed my dazed brain awake. Jaxson can already openly use my humiliation as entertainment for Willow Jenkins. What about the future? Maybe when you hurt enough, the pain just goes numb. My hand drifted to my slowly beating heart. The water dripping from my dress, like my love for Jaxson, slowly pooled on the floor, then vanished completely. 0

Unlike his passive-aggressive jabs at me, Jaxson’s gaze towards Willow Jenkins was laced with genuine concern. He draped his jacket over Willow’s shoulders. “Why are you apologizing to her? She brought this on herself, didn’t she? If she wasn’t so utterly intolerant, how could your health, which was already improving, have deteriorated so badly?” “But since Willow’s pleading for you, I’ll begrudgingly forgive your rudeness towards her. Just kneel down and apologize to Willow right now, and maybe I’ll even consider showing up at the wedding…” “I won’t kneel.” I calmly ran a hand through my wet hair, trying to look less like a drowned rat. “Jaxson Hayes, I won’t kneel, and I won’t marry you. Don’t show up at my wedding in three days. I don’t want to cause any trouble for myself or my husband. Since neither of us intends to honor the engagement, I hope we can both inform our families.” “From now on, the Millers and the Hayes are officially done. We go our separate ways.” Jaxson frowned, his arm, wrapped around Willow Jenkins, suddenly tightened. “Aubrey Miller, what do you mean? I’m telling you, my patience has limits. You better not test me. This is your last chance. Are you sure you want to talk to me with such attitude?” I pulled my gaze from his hand, scoffing softly. “Jaxson Hayes, though nothing but poison has come out of your mouth this past year, you did say one thing right.” “As the city’s most sought-after woman, I’ve never lacked for suitors.” So, Jaxson, do you understand? I was never indispensable to you. I took one last look at the varying expressions on the faces in the private room, then turned and walked towards the bar exit. “Aubrey Miller, if you leave, we’re really over!” My steps never faltered as I left the bar, leaving Jaxson’s infuriated barks behind me. Back home, the adrenaline that had kept me upright finally crashed. My body, which hadn’t fully recovered, had been doused with cold water and then walked for so long in the night. I burned with fever for two days straight before I barely felt human again. When I finally woke up, I saw my dad, a hesitant, almost uncomfortable look on his face. I propped myself up, took a sip from the water a housemaid handed me. “Dad, is there something you want to say?” My dad silently watched me, then, fingering the pack of cigarettes for a moment. “Your engagement with that Hayes boy…” I finally remembered what I had forgotten. My gaze fixed on him, unwavering. “Dad, I don’t want to marry Jaxson Hayes.” My dad looked at me in astonishment. His favorite cigarette pack slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. “Aubrey, are you serious?” I nodded, then handed him the marriage certificate from my bedside table. “Dad, I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’ve truly moved on from Jaxson. Sorry, I was afraid you wouldn’t agree, so I acted first and asked for forgiveness later.” My dad looked at the man’s name on the marriage certificate, falling silent for a moment. “Aubrey, you still say you’re not throwing a tantrum. If you wanted to Photoshop something to piss off that Hayes boy, you should have found someone believable! It’s not that I’m looking down on you, but the chances of Darian Thorne from Thorne Industries marrying you are lower than the Earth exploding tomorrow.” I watched him in silence. Okay, if I wasn’t the one involved, I probably wouldn’t believe it either. After all, who would have thought that Darian Thorne, a titan in the business world, secretly loved reading alpha billionaire romance novels? And even more surprisingly, he loved the ones written by an obscure writer like me. But before I could explain, a mocking voice interrupted me. “Darian Thorne? Aubrey Miller, you’re not saying your new groom is Darian Thorne, the CEO of Thorne Industries, are you?” 0Jaxson Hayes held the marriage certificate, scrutinizing it for a moment, then carelessly tossed it aside. “Aubrey Miller, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with something more convincing. You seriously expect me to believe this level of nonsense? Who is Darian Thorne? He’s someone you could ever hope to ‘climb up’ to?”

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Married for six years. It was a union between our families, but also a love story that began in childhood. Watching him now, holding a girl who looked somewhat like me, but was so much younger, so much more innocent. Tears streamed down my face. Childhood sweethearts, it seems, aren’t always meant to last a lifetime. The divorce papers were the last gift I left for him. Outside the car window, rain lashed against the body of the car. Through the glass, I watched the two of them by the dorm entrance. Julian, in a black trench coat, held a young, beautiful girl in his arms, who was playfully snuggling into him. He raised his hand and gently stroked her head, a gesture full of comfort. The streetlights beside the dorm cast their glow into the rain, making the scene look like something out of a romantic drama. Seeing this, I had no desire to wait for their lingering goodbyes. I spun the steering wheel and drove straight off. On the way back, a drop of rain landed on my arm. I blinked, realizing it was a tear. I wiped my face haphazardly, feeling utterly numb. Back in college, when we were dating, Julian often walked me to my dorm like this. Once, during a heavy rain, I casually mentioned I craved those street noodles near the campus gate. Half an hour later, Julian appeared downstairs from my dorm. His coat was a little damp, but those noodles were still piping hot. My tears fell uncontrollably onto my hands, burning just like those noodles did back then.

As soon as I got home, I quickly got ready for bed and burrowed under the covers. Julian tiptoed into the room, a bouquet of flowers in his arms, which he gently placed on the table. He walked to the bedside, resting an arm on my shoulder, his voice full of apology, tinged with a hint of playful cajolery. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I had some business to discuss today and couldn’t make it for dinner with you.” I looked at him, saying nothing. His routine was exactly the same as before, only then it was for work engagements; now, it was for his young girlfriend. He then opened a gift box, revealing a necklace from a brand I often wore. It was indeed a style I liked. “Honey, do you like it? Let me put it on for you.” I stared into his eyes. “No need. I really like the one you gave me before. I’m not that greedy.” Julian paused, then grinned. “Honey, that’s not greedy at all! The old one’s beautiful, but with a new one, it’s nice to switch them up. My wife is so gorgeous, everything looks good on you.” As he spoke, he reached out, cupped the back of my head, and leaned in to kiss me. I fought down the surge of nausea and turned my head, avoiding his lips. I managed to compose myself, unwilling to waste another word on him. “Just wash up and go to bed. I’m a bit tired from today. I want to sleep.” Julian, just like always, affectionately stroked my head. “Alright, honey. Get your rest. Beautiful people need their beauty sleep, you know.”

When I woke up the next day, it was almost noon. I barely slept last night, only drifting off in the dead of night. I opened SnapChat, found Madison’s chat, and scrolled, stopping at our conversation from two days ago. “Girl, is this Julian? My brother’s doing his grad studies at this university, and I dropped him off today. Thought I’d check out some hot guys, and guess what? I saw your husband!” “Why is your husband downstairs from the girls’ dorm? Does he have a sister studying here?” Ten minutes later. “Did I see that right? Your husband is hugging that girl? Is that a sister? That’s clearly a *girlfriend*!” I tapped on the first picture. It was identical to what I saw yesterday: the two of them, flirting outside the dorm, just like a newly infatuated couple. “I think I stumbled upon a huge secret.” Below the photo was a video. In the video, Julian opened the car door for the girl, shielded her head, then got into the car himself, and sped away. My thoughts drifted, back to the past. A girl’s playful voice echoed. “Julian! Is that you? Where’s Mr. Lim?” Julian rested one hand on the sports car window, slowly turning his head, his tone lazy. “Our houses are close. You can just ride with me, it’s on the way. No need to trouble Mr. Lim.” He walked up to me, took my small backpack, opened the passenger door, and made a “please” gesture. “Get in, my princess?” I gave a small huff, as if granting a favor, and stepped into the car in my cute leather shoes. “You don’t have to flatter me like this. Don’t worry, I’ll still give you the courtesy of riding with you.” Julian fastened my seatbelt, then grinned, his eyes blinking at me. “So, does this mean we’re good? You’re so generous; don’t be mad at me anymore.” Mad? Why was I mad? I couldn’t remember. We were about the same age; little squabbles were common, but from childhood on, Julian always made it up to me. I didn’t understand why Julian would fall for someone else. I reached for something, wanting to tidy up, but I didn’t know what to organize. It felt like there was nothing I absolutely had to take with me. I just felt like a jumbled program, emotions running wild. I needed to grip something, anything, to keep myself from unraveling. Then, a photo album appeared in my hands. Inside were photos of Julian and me. I flipped through them, page by page, each picture seemingly telling me that Julian loved me. Tucked deepest inside was a high school yearbook photo of us. I was in my school uniform, white shirt, blue blazer skirt, hair in a high ponytail, leaning my head against the person beside me, smiling and giving a peace sign to the camera. Beside me was Julian, his hair closely cropped, holding two bunny ears above my head, his smile exceptionally bright. I looked into the eyes of my 18-year-old self in the photo, tears blurring the image. I couldn’t control my tears, and I couldn’t control the 28-year-old Julian falling in love with someone else. I took a deep breath, deciding to go find him. Julian, the 18-year-old you, please save me one more time.

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After the game, my boyfriend held the championship trophy and publicly declared his love. The girl? My rival roommate. Seeing my face turn ashen, Liam Harrison didn’t even bat an eye. “It was just a bet. What’s the big deal?” “Worst case, you can just have someone declare their love for you, too. We’ll call it even?” He was so sure I’d never do something like that, and no one around dared to cross him by showing me any interest. But then, his sworn enemy walked towards me. He held his individual achievement trophy out to me, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “Daisy Miller, I’ve always liked you.” “Would you be willing to finally look at me, and be my girlfriend?” I finally took the trophy, nodding emphatically. That night, Liam Harrison went absolutely insane trying to find me. The whistle blew. The host excitedly announced, “Congratulations to the Engineering team for defeating the Athletics team 4-3 and winning this year’s championship!” During the awards ceremony, the stands erupted in cheers. I unclenched my clasped hands. Our university had sent two powerhouse teams to the state championships, and they swept both the championship and runner-up titles. For us, the state tournament practically felt like an internal practice match, a given. Normally, the Athletics team was way ahead. This time, the Engineering team finally held their heads high, and their captain, Liam Harrison, was openly weeping tears of joy. Then, he walked towards the stands, holding the trophy high. Sitting in the front row, my heart began to pound rapidly. “Daisy,” “I’ll propose to you when I lift the trophy.” Liam’s promise, made over dinner with both our families during the holidays, still echoed in my ears. I’d asked him why he thought of that, and he’d answered candidly. “My desire to win this trophy is as strong as my desire to marry you. It means everything.” Indeed, the Athletics team captain, Cole Sterling, had been his sworn enemy since childhood. They were equally matched in family background and looks, but while Liam was more well-known in social circles, when it came to actual skill and campus popularity, Cole was superior. At that moment, a rush of warmth surged through me, and tiny beads of sweat formed on my palms. Nervousness, anticipation, and excitement intertwined, making my heart feel like it would burst from my chest. Clutching my skirt, I even felt a little grateful. I looked pretty today. Every time Liam had a game, I’d dress up carefully to watch, wishing from the stands for him to win. I didn’t dare stare too openly, so I just sat quietly in the stands, waiting. His tall figure knelt down, poised for what I’d hoped would be a proposal. I awkwardly lowered my head, waiting for one of the most important moments of my life to arrive. But his voice came from beside me instead: “Chloe, I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?” It wasn’t me… It was Chloe Davis. My roommate, the one I never got along with. How could it be her? My heart instantly ripped open. A sudden blow landed squarely on my head. My mind was filled with static, and my vision blurred. I felt like I’d been slapped in public. All my anticipation shattered, my body trembled uncontrollably, and my spirits plummeted into an icy abyss. My broken heart bled, making it impossible to maintain even basic composure. “Say yes…” Cheers and catcalls erupted around us, non-stop. Chloe feigned surprise as she took the trophy, glancing at me. But I caught the quick, undeniable glint of triumph in her eyes. Liam slowly stood up, clicking his tongue. “Alright, that’s enough. Doesn’t a girl need some face? Stop all this shouting.” You cared about her reputation. What about mine? My heart pulsed, bleeding in rhythmic throbs, and I couldn’t stop shivering. “Daisy?” Finally noticing me standing beside him, Liam frowned in displeasure. “Are you crying?” “It was just a bet. What’s the big deal?” Chloe, on one side, pretended to turn and look at me. “Oh, Daisy, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad. I was going to tell you tonight… but it was hard to bring up, since it was just their team’s bet. Liam will explain it to you later, okay? Please don’t let this affect your relationship with him.” I searched her face for a hint of guilt. There was none. My lips twitched, my voice trembling. “Really?” Liam shrugged carelessly. “Anyway, I told you it was just a bet.” I suddenly remembered Chloe’s deliberate effort to dress up today, and how, for the first time, she’d been nice to me, coming to the game together. That was it. It was a bet designed to humiliate me, and everyone was waiting to watch the show. What was there to explain? Liam’s indifferent attitude made everyone around him look down on me, too. One of his teammates couldn’t help but say, “It really was just a bet, Daisy. Don’t be a sore loser.” Others quickly chimed in. “Come on, Daisy, don’t ruin the fun for everyone.” “We finally won for once. It’s just a joke, let’s have some fun.” It was as if my not agreeing with them now would make me a huge party pooper. But did I deserve to endure their cruel games? Chloe hurriedly handed the trophy to me. Its golden, shiny surface reflected my humiliated face. She pretended to comfort me, “Daisy, don’t be mad. You can hold the trophy.” Then she gave Liam a coy look, softly complaining, “How could you be like this…?” Their interaction was clearly familiar and close. Liam knew perfectly well that Chloe and I didn’t get along. Yet he was secretly interacting with her behind my back. This time, it truly disgusted me. I threw the trophy away, my voice choked, but my chin held high. “Liam Harrison, we’re over.” **截断点** Chapter

My self-respect had been trampled enough. Liam and I had no future. “Daisy, stop being so dramatic. Just apologize to me, and I can pretend I didn’t hear any of that.” “You heard me clearly. I said, we’re breaking up.” Liam, rarely offering an olive branch, saw that I wasn’t taking it, and his face darkened. Then he let out a ridiculous laugh, a thin layer of anger mixed with confusion. “It was just a bet I lost. How far do you need to take this?” “Worst case, you can just have someone declare their love for you, too. We’ll call it even?” He was certain that I only ever liked him and wouldn’t be able to do something like that. The people around were pretty much all of Captain Liam’s teammates, his hangers-on, or his fair-weather friends. And absolutely no one would dare to meddle in his personal affairs. For a moment, the atmosphere grew tense. “Go on, tell me. Who do you want to declare their love for you?” Liam snapped his fingers, his gaze, sharp as a knife, sweeping across the men present. The meaning was unspoken. Everyone’s eyes on me immediately took on a playful, taunting look. Chloe then spoke up, seemingly innocent. “Liam, don’t be like that. Daisy’s used to being a pampered princess. How could she possibly handle a joke like this?” A joke had its limits, and they had completely overstepped them. And now they were twisting the narrative, making it sound like I couldn’t take a joke? She was really good at chiming in. I didn’t want to say anything more to them; I just felt sick staying there another second. However, just as I was about to stand up, a deep male voice spoke from a nearby section. “Daisy, I’ll declare my love for you.” I looked up, seeing the man walking towards me clearly. Cole… The two teams’ resting areas were separated. The commotion on our side couldn’t be fully heard by the other team. So I had completely forgotten that the Athletics team members hadn’t left yet. Everyone else was also startled by his sudden move. After all, the rumor was that this guy was a complete sports fanatic; nothing else ever caught his eye. More importantly, he had always been Liam Harrison’s sworn enemy. Why would he… While my mind raced, Cole had already held his Best Scorer individual trophy out to me, a smirk playing on his lips. “We’ve known each other for years, and everyone knows I’m a sports fanatic, but they don’t know that the one I’ve always been most obsessed with is you.” “Would you be willing to finally look at me, and be with me?” Liam’s face changed slightly, but he still sounded casual, a sneer in his voice. “Cole, you’re a sore loser, so you’re using a woman to get back at me?” But Cole didn’t look at him, his gaze still fixed on me. Seeing this, Chloe subtly hinted, “Daisy, you can’t possibly not know that Cole and Liam have always been at odds, right…?” I scoffed, my voice dripping with anger. “Liam knew *you* and I didn’t get along, but he still declared his love for you, didn’t he?” As if seeking revenge, I took the trophy and nodded emphatically. “Daisy, put his trophy down.” Liam immediately tried to grab me, but Cole blocked him. “Be a little more gracious, Liam. It’s just a declaration of love.” “Captain Liam, don’t be a sore loser.” Liam was enraged. He wrapped an arm around Chloe, scoffing. “You think I can’t handle it?” “Fine then. Whoever declared their love for someone, that person goes home with them tonight.” Cole raised an eyebrow. “As you wish.” Without hesitation, Cole smoothly took my free hand and led me directly towards the Athletics team’s area. He asserted his dominance. “Alright, guys! Our captain just got a girlfriend tonight! Let’s celebrate! Anywhere you want to go for the party, I’m treating!” “Go, Captain!” “Welcome, Captain Cole’s lady!” The Athletics team erupted in cheers, everyone packing their things and heading out. They left the Engineering team with their jaws dropped. “Is that really Cole? I heard he never even looked at women.” Chapter

The first time I sat in Cole’s car, it still felt like a dream. It wasn’t until he leaned over to help me fasten my seatbelt that I snapped back to reality. My face felt slightly awkward. “Just now… I didn’t expect you to bail me out.” “Thank you, Captain Cole.” Because I had grown up with Liam, I had secretly helped him badmouth Cole plenty of times. I never imagined Cole would actually protect me, saving me from utter humiliation in front of everyone. Cole started the car, eyes on the road, and simply murmured, “Mm.” He sounded a little unhappy. Did I say something wrong? I quickly added, “No need to trouble you, Captain Cole. You still have a celebration to go to. You can just drop me off at the curb up ahead.” “I’ll take a cab home myself.” Cole suddenly stomped on the brake, looking at me. “What? You’re not coming to the celebration with me?” I froze, then suddenly remembered the scene earlier. I didn’t expect Captain Cole to take the joke seriously… He was Liam Harrison’s sworn enemy, after all. Now, I didn’t want any involvement with either of them. It was better to keep my distance. I said sincerely, “Thank you so much for what you did tonight, Captain Cole.” I couldn’t help but recall the rumors about him. People said he was a sports fanatic who wasn’t interested in women. He’d never had a woman around him, and his greatest hobby was playing football with his team. Many even said there was a 100% chance he was gay. “Besides ‘thank you,’ don’t you have anything else to say?” “Huh…?” I racked my brain, wondering what I might have said that was inappropriate. After thinking it over, it hit me. There must be a guy Cole liked on the Athletics team. He was being a good friend, helping me out, and I couldn’t let his crush misunderstand… So, feeling quite righteous, I patted my chest and declared, “Don’t worry, Captain Cole. What happened between us was a complete misunderstanding. I’ll definitely explain it to the teammate you like.” A confused Cole said, “The teammate I like?” “Oh, is the person you like not on your team?” *Crack!* I thought I heard Cole’s knuckles crackle. “You think I like men?” Cole practically gritted through his teeth. Maybe I was too blunt, making him uncomfortable in front of someone he didn’t know well. But there was nothing wrong with liking someone. I chuckled awkwardly, trying to explain. “Captain Cole, love knows no gender. Don’t be embarrassed.” “I totally understand…” My voice trailed off as I watched Cole’s face grow darker and darker. Finally, I timidly mumbled, “Really, I don’t discriminate against gay people…” Then I shut my mouth. Cole focused on driving, no longer bothering to speak to me. What a weird atmosphere. For a while, all I could do was pull out my phone and constantly refresh Ins. People always pretend to be busy when they’re awkward… Suddenly, my scrolling finger stopped. Two minutes ago, Chloe Davis had just posted something on Ins. “I accept Captain Liam’s declaration of love.” Below it were two selfies: her holding the trophy, and her and Liam intimately cheek-to-cheek. My roommate Mia Rodriguez commented: *Oh, so Captain Liam actually likes you, huh? Ugh, Daisy went to all his games every day. She must be furious now.* Chloe replied: *Don’t say that, Daisy will be unhappy.* My hand, clutching the phone, trembled slightly from how hard I was gripping it. My vision went black. What a load of crap, that bet was just a cover-up. These two had probably already been secretly involved. That’s why Liam declared his love for her, even knowing she and I didn’t get along. Just then, my phone suddenly rang, snapping me back to reality. “Hello, Daisy, are you and Captain Cole really still together?” It was the teammate who had called me a sore loser earlier. “We’re playing truth or dare at the celebration, and they forced me to call and ask.” “Daisy, come on, tell us. Is Captain Cole’s boyfriend mad at you?” “Hahaha…” A burst of laughter came from the other end of the phone, likely a group gathered to hear my humiliation. Before I could even speak, Liam Harrison’s voice cut in. “Ask her if Cole just abandoned her halfway there.” “Tell her to apologize and beg a little, and I don’t mind picking her up.” Liam’s voice was mocking and crude. My blood rushed to my head. “None of your business! And even if he ‘can’t perform,’ he’s still way more impressive than you are!” There was a brief silence on the other end, then Liam’s furious roar: “What did you say? Daisy! Are you and Cole…?”

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I found a pair of battered-up lingerie stockings in my girlfriend’s bag. My gaze locked on the irregular yellowish stains on them, and I froze. I stayed silent, doing nothing but secretly pouring some fiery hot chili oil into the lube. From that day on, I became a regular at the hospital. Not for me, though. It was for the genes of a Black man. The day she gave birth, she clutched the newborn Black baby, her expression manic, as if struck by lightning. “No, wait, who put this in my belly?!” Chloe and I had been together for almost two years, but things had never gotten truly intimate. She swore she was old-fashioned, that she was saving herself for our wedding night. I chuckled and nodded, trusting her completely. Until yesterday night, when I found a pair of heavily used lace stockings in her pocket. The yellowish stains on the stockings were crystal clear. I didn’t even need to lean in to smell it. That sickening, acrid odor… any man would know exactly what had happened. My vision blurred. It felt like a physical blow. We weren’t young anymore, and both our families were pushing us to get married. So, a couple of days ago, I suggested we go for pre-marital health screenings. But Chloe seemed hesitant. “Liam, I think that’s a bit too soon…” I just thought she was shy and didn’t suspect a thing. “Chloe, it’s not too soon. We’re getting married soon anyway. Besides, with the screenings, we can get extra vacation days for our honeymoon! You’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii and Europe, right? We can get it all done at once.” Memories flooded my mind, and my blood ran cold. The sound of rushing water from the bathroom was fading. Chloe was almost done with her shower. I quickly put the stockings back where I found them. But my mind was already racing, unable to stop. When did she betray me? Two months ago, Chloe, who never wore stockings, suddenly, inexplicably, bought two pairs. She complained to me, saying the faculty really valued her and would often send her to academic conferences. She was too junior, so she’d just be there as a formality, standing all day. She said she read online that wearing stockings could effectively protect her calves, and told me not to overthink it. I didn’t sense anything was wrong; I just felt bad for her. But now, who could tell me what kind of standing position could turn a pair of stockings into *this*? I was dazed, feeling like I’d fallen into an ice abyss. Just then, Chloe emerged from the bathroom. I walked towards her, my hand barely touching her waist before she slapped it away. “Liam, please respect me! I told you I’m traditional. Can you just respect that?!” *Slam!* The bedroom door was violently shut. I gritted my teeth, rage churning inside me. I don’t respect you? Touching my own girlfriend is disrespectful, huh? Then what the hell is *this* ‘battle-damaged’ stocking from your academic conference?! I clamped down on my fury, refusing to explode right then and there. That night, I stayed awake on the balcony, not sleeping a wink. I’d heard grad students could be pretty wild. Had she hooked up with some younger guy? I suppressed my anger and secretly followed her for several days, but found nothing suspicious. The next day, I staked out her university entrance early. At six in the evening, she appeared near the gate. She was alone, but she kept looking around, a clear sign she was waiting for someone. I pulled my hat lower and moved to a higher vantage point. Almost simultaneously, a smile suddenly bloomed on Chloe’s face. She raised her arm, waving in a certain direction. I clenched my fists, staring intently. At the edge of my vision, a figure appeared. I didn’t rush out blindly to beat him senseless, as I’d imagined I would. Instead, I stood frozen, bewildered. It was indeed a man. And I knew him. He was Chloe’s mentor, Dr. Marcus Thorne, in his late fifties. Chloe had told me before that he’d pulled a lot of strings to help her attend those academic conferences. The two exchanged polite greetings and walked out of the university gate. Everything seemed perfectly normal. I felt a mix of bewilderment and relief. Maybe it was just my remaining fondness for her, acting up because I hadn’t caught her red-handed. But the next moment, I felt like I’d plunged into an ice abyss again. As Chloe got into the car, the man, in a gentlemanly gesture, used his left hand to shield the car door, while his right hand slipped into Chloe’s chest. Chloe shyly pulled back, but quickly pushed her chest out again, provocatively flashing her cleavage.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Chloe… and her mentor? A man old enough to be her grandfather! I don’t know how I made it home that day. Her tablet was on the console table in the hallway. She must have rushed off and forgotten it. I took a deep breath and opened their chat logs. “But my stockings were brand new, barely worn for half a day.” “You little vixen, you’re just too captivating. I can’t resist. I bought you other styles. Come get them tomorrow, and put them on right then and there.” “You need to be more careful. What if my boyfriend finds out?” “You’re too tempting. I just can’t hold back.” “Hmph, so between me and your wife, who has a better body, who’s prettier?” “That old hag can’t even compare to you. You’re a siren, the kind that makes me lose all control.” “Oh, stop it~ But we can’t always be in your office. What if someone hears us?” “We get so few chances to be alone. The office is the only place we can be open. And you’re too timid, you don’t even dare to make a sound. It’s much more exciting outside.” “Next academic conference, Daddy will make you feel like you’re flying.” “So embarrassing, don’t say that…” My face was ashen, my neck flushed with anger. The chat logs weren’t just filled with obscene words; there were countless indecent photos and videos. I couldn’t believe Chloe, who always presented herself as conservative and traditional, was truly this person. They had even talked about me. “Why are you still with that boyfriend of yours? What do you see in him? He knows nothing about passion.” “He doesn’t know passion, but he’s really generous with money. Besides, I’m so pretty, it feels good to have him dote on me.” “Dote on you? Can he dote on you like I can? Hmph, I’m jealous.” “Oh, you’re jealous? I haven’t even said I’m jealous yet! If you divorce your wife, I’ll break up with him immediately, and then I’ll give you two healthy baby boys. How about that?” “Baby, enough about that. Kiss me, mua~” That single “Baby” made me want to gag. I would have never in a million years thought that my girlfriend of almost two years, after such a long-term relationship, was this kind of person! In their eyes, I was just a cuckold, a walking ATM, and a personal servant? I thought back to these past two years. As her rightful boyfriend, I had to wait for her mood to even kiss her. Let alone any further intimacy. I even thought I’d found a good girl. That’s why I always respected her so much. But now, reality had slapped me hard across the face. This supposedly virtuous lady was, in fact, a backstabbing slut! I was worse than a simp! My lips trembled with rage. Dr. Marcus Thorne. This old creep was truly something. He’d published articles in numerous top-tier journals, a renowned figure in his field. In his late fifties, yet he showed no signs of aging; his posture was upright, he was refined and elegant, with an air of scholarly sophistication. His wife came from a prominent family, his two daughters attended top universities, and his own academic reputation was well-known in his circle. He probably thought his life was perfect. My face contorted into a grotesque grimace. Damn it! Cuckold me and make him a cripple? And I’d have to pay for that? That’s too easy on him. I’m going to destroy his reputation! I’m going to ruin him forever! I saved all the evidence, then put the tablet back in its original spot. Just as I finished, Chloe came back. Chloe usually came home after nine, but today she was back early, before eight. As soon as she opened the door, she asked if I’d seen her tablet. I pretended to be oblivious, and we “found” it together near the console table. Chloe grabbed the tablet and subtly let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me! I thought I’d lost my tablet.” Then, she took the tablet and went straight to her bedroom. I watched it all unfold with a calm gaze. She’d only left at six to have dinner with the old creep, and now she was rushing back so urgently. Wasn’t it just to delete evidence? When Chloe emerged from her bedroom, the slight heaviness on her face was gone. Right in front of me, she cheerfully answered a call. “Dr. Thorne, I’m back. Everything went smoothly.” “Thank you for worrying. Understood.” “I know. I’ll come to your office first thing tomorrow morning when I get to school.” Chloe covered the mouthpiece, naturally whispering a complaint: “These grad students are just slaves. Mentors aren’t teachers, they’re bosses. They make me do personal favors all day, I’m exhausted.” Personal favors? I scoffed internally. Yes, those were definitely personal favors. She lazily stretched out her legs and said softly, “Honey, I was standing all day at that academic conference yesterday, my legs are so weak. Could you give me a rub?” My lower lip bore the imprint of my teeth. Why were they weak? How dare she spout such trash? Did she really think I was a complete fool?! I excused myself, claiming I needed to use the restroom, and blew her off. Three days ago, I would have eagerly rushed over to rub her legs. But now, I saw it clearly. These two were deliberately seeking cheap thrills. You want thrills, huh? I’ll give you a thrill you won’t forget!

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In my past life, I was the one he chose, becoming the most humiliated bride at the wedding. Everyone thought I’d struck gold, that my luck was beyond belief. Only I knew it was a complete and utter nightmare. The night before the wedding, his ‘white moonlight’ had drunk herself to death, overwhelmed by grief. The next day, his eyes blazing red, he accused me of “killing her” and personally dragged me to hell. In the bridal suite, he whipped my back, lash after lash, screaming another woman’s name. “You stole her place, now you’ll feel her pain.” He publicly tore my dress, then locked me in a dog cage for three days and three nights, all because I wore the wedding gown she loved before she died. He even turned her ashes into perfume, forcing me to wear it daily, claiming it was so she could watch me atone. Finally, I died on the jagged rocks by the ocean, still wearing that blood-stained wedding dress. He said I owed her a funeral. This time, I swapped the selection number in advance. But then, he came at me, eyes red, gripping me like a madman: “Chloe, this time, I only want you.”

Late at night, in the Sterling family’s Heirloom Selection Chamber. I walked in, mop in hand, pretending to clean. In reality, my fingers were already clutching a tiny, folded number card. Number 47, Chloe Sterling. I squeezed it tight, tucking it under the mop head. With a swift, practiced movement, I pulled out another card and slipped it into the numbered slot. That card read – Vivian Thorne. The day of the selection ceremony, the Sterling family’s main mansion glittered with gold. Nine hundred and ninety-nine women arrived, dressed to the nines. Each one was like a peacock in full display, desperate to show off every ounce of their refined elegance to Alexander Sterling. “I heard the hot pick this year is Chloe Sterling?” “That cold face of hers? Does she even *deserve* to be a Sterling wife?” “Are you blind? Doesn’t she look *exactly* like… *her*?” I stood in the furthest corner, lowering my head, slowly tearing the number card from my collar into tiny pieces. When the host called out the number, the entire hall fell silent. “Number 47, Vivian Thorne.” The next second, applause erupted. Alexander Sterling stormed down the stage, his eyes bloodshot, looking utterly insane. He yanked Vivian into his arms, holding her so tightly it looked like he wanted to embed her into his very bones. “Vivian.” His voice trembled. “This time… it’s finally you.” The entire hall gasped. Alexander lowered his head to look at Vivian, his gaze tender to the point of madness, a smile uncontrollably spreading across his lips. “You’re back. You finally came back.” Vivian leaned against him gently, her cheek pressed to his chest, as if confirming his heartbeat. But her eyes, subtly, swept across the crowd and settled squarely on me. I gave a small, knowing smile, as if seeing through her, and through this entire charade. Alexander Sterling finally looked up at me. He had surely anticipated my breakdown, my tears, my angry questions. He’d probably even prepared a speech, ready to comfort me, to offer a sliver of false pity. Too bad. I didn’t give him the chance. In my previous life, when “Number 47, Chloe Sterling” was called, my eyes had welled up with tears of激动. I stood beneath the crystal chandeliers, my face flushed, my voice trembling as I called his name. But Alexander Sterling, seated below the stage, looked terrifyingly cold. He stared at the shadow at his feet, as if my selection was a personal insult to him. I raised my hand, calmly applauding them. *Clap. Clap. Clap.* The sharp sound echoed, and the entire hall fell silent again. His expression froze. His throat moved, but no words came out. I smiled and nodded, my eyes devoid of emotion. “Lord Sterling, you’re truly fortunate.” “I wish you both a happy ever after.” His brow furrowed fiercely, his eyes so dark they seemed to bleed. “Chloe Sterling, what do you mean?” “I mean nothing.” I smiled, turning to walk away. “You two are perfectly matched.”

The moment I left the ballroom, my step-mom dragged me into a side room and slapped me across the face. “Chloe Sterling, who are you trying to fool, playing all high and mighty?!” “This opportunity, I spent months begging Uncle Arthur for!” “And what do you do? You just hand it over to someone else?! Do you want me dead?!” I sneered. “The Sterling family gives me ten million a year, and I give you seven million for your retirement. And you spent it all on plastic surgery!” “What did Uncle Arthur even see in that worn-out face of yours?!” Her face darkened. She gnashed her teeth and hissed, “If you don’t marry Alexander, the Sterling family will cut you off! What about your sister?!” I straightened my collar. “Didn’t you insist on shoving me into the Sterling family? Fine. Let’s try a different direction.” “Have Uncle Arthur arrange the next selection for me. Throw my name into the hat for Julian Sterling.” Her face changed. “Are you insane?! You’d dare mess with *that* man?” “A Sterling is a Sterling. He throws around just as much cash as Alexander does.” I didn’t bother to explain further. She looked stunned. Julian Sterling, a distant cousin of the Sterling family, nicknamed “The Wild Card.” Rumors said he was quite the player, dabbling in both circles, with whispers of past affairs with rising stars and influential figures across the city’s elite. But I knew better. The year my sister was sick, he’d visited her in the hospital once, bringing her a soft bunny toy – a small, quiet act of kindness that stood out. He wasn’t inherently bad. I stopped at my room door, pausing for a few seconds. The lock had been changed, and a new plaque was affixed to the door— [Ms. Vivian Thorne’s Private Quarters] This room was designed by Alexander Sterling himself, just for me. He’d said, “With you sleeping here, I feel at peace.” Now, he was peaceful enough to give it to someone else. Just as I turned to leave, a maid hurried after me, whispering, “Miss Chloe, Lord Sterling wishes you to move to the West Wing. He says it’s quieter there.” The West Wing was an old guesthouse, damp and isolated, without even hot water. I murmured “Mm-hm,” saying nothing else. I picked up my bag and quietly went to pack my things. At dinner, the moment I entered the dining hall, I saw Vivian. Vivian was seated to Alexander’s left, her entire being nestled against his side. She said, “My appetite hasn’t been good lately. I can only eat porridge.” He immediately rose, personally serving her a bowl, his voice gentle: “The kitchen changed the rice. It’s the texture you used to like.” I stared down at the plate in front of me, my stomach clenching. I hesitated, then quietly signaled to a maid nearby. “Could I have a bowl of porridge too?” My stomach had always been sensitive. It started when he was in a car accident years ago, and I stayed up for half a month, nursing him sleeplessly. He knew that. Before the maid could move, a cold voice spoke from nearby: “Miss Chloe, that porridge is exclusively for Miss Thorne.” My spoon paused in mid-air. A second later, I heard his icy voice: “If you want to drink it, drink it. Then get out of here. Don’t be an eyesore.” I looked up at him. His eyes lingered on me for half a second. Something flickered in their depths. But it quickly turned cold again. I smiled, put down my spoon, and wiped my fingers. “On second thought, I’ll pass.” I stood up and walked towards the drinks bar, casually picking up a glass of red wine. Just as I raised it to my lips, Vivian walked over, smiling. Her voice was soft. “Oh, sister, drinking alone? How pathetic.” I couldn’t be bothered with her. I replied coolly, “Whether I drink or not, how is that any of your business?” She suddenly swayed, directly bumping into me. The red wine instantly splashed all over me, and the glass shattered into pieces on the floor. I took a step back, my dress soaked. But she dramatically stumbled to the ground, her arms and wrists reddening in splotches, a dense rash breaking out. “Ah, it’s so itchy… Did I have an alcohol allergy again…?” Before I could even react, Alexander Sterling had rushed over, immediately scooping her into his arms. Then, he glared at me, his voice a low, furious growl: “Are you insane? You know she has an alcohol allergy, and you still threw wine on her?” I opened my mouth, but before I could explain, he already issued an order: “Someone, hold her down!” “Make her kneel on these glass shards for half an hour, then have her clean the floor!”

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