My reunion with my ex-boyfriend of three years happened during a high-profile SWAT raid. He was the youngest, most promising detective captain in the department. I was a serial killer fleeing across state lines. The moment our eyes met, Ethan Carter froze. “Chloe… how is it you…?” I seized the second of his distraction, spun around, and tried to sprint for the window. But one of his deputies fired. A bullet tore through my calf, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. In the interrogation room, Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. He slammed his fists on the table, roaring at me: “Four lives, Chloe! Four human beings! How could you do this?!” “Tell me it’s a mistake! Tell me! Please, just say it!” Looking at the agonizing pain in his eyes, I suddenly laughed. “You’re right. It is a mistake.” “It’s not four.” I leaned forward, my voice a chilling whisper. “It’s five.” “You care so much about your wife, my former best friend Lily Harrison, don’t you? How have you not noticed that she’s been missing?”

Ethan’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. His hands shook violently as he pulled out his phone. The lock screen, which used to be a picture of me, had been replaced by his wedding photo with Lily. He pressed the call button. A second later, a sweet, upbeat ringtone echoed from my jacket pocket. With a mocking smile, I slid out Lily’s blood-stained phone and answered the call. “Hey, darling.” “Why didn’t you come to save me? I’m so scared…” Ethan lunged across the table, grabbing my collar with terrifying force. “What did you do to Lily?!” Just as I was about to suffocate, the deputy captain rushed in and pulled him off me. “Captain, calm down! This is a public transparency livestream!” Ethan gritted his teeth, his chest heaving. “Where is Lily?” I held up my hands. My handcuffs rattled loudly. “I don’t know.” “Since you were smart enough to catch me, I’m sure you’re smart enough to find her.” “Chloe Miller!” Ethan’s eyes were so red they looked ready to bleed. “Lily treated you like her own sister! When you were bullied in high school, she was the one who stood up for you!” “When your mother was dying in the hospital, Lily was the one who pulled strings to get her into the private ICU. She took care of her every single day, doing more than you ever did!” “She even emptied her own savings account to pay for your mom’s chemotherapy when you couldn’t afford it!” “Is this how you repay her?!” On the large screen broadcasting the live feed, the comment section was exploding. [Wait, is she talking about Dr. Lily from Lincoln General Hospital?] [I know her! She’s literally an angel. My dad was broke when he was sick, and Dr. Lily quietly paid for his meds out of her own pocket.] [Good people always die young. This sick murderer needs to fry in the electric chair!] Facing the digital onslaught of accusations, I let out a cold laugh and turned my head away, refusing to look. My indifference pushed Ethan over the edge. He ripped a silver crucifix pendant off Lily’s phone and slammed it onto the table in front of me. “Three years ago, just because Lily talked to me a few times to discuss your mother’s treatment, you got paranoid. You accused her of trying to steal me, and you stabbed her in the stomach with a knife!” “I had to lock you up. But Lily was too kind-hearted. She signed a waiver to drop the charges so you wouldn’t go to prison! And what did you do? You ran away, vanished without a trace, leaving her worried sick!” “She bought this crucifix for you. She prayed for your safety every single day. And you repaid her by murdering four people, and now her?!” Ethan’s voice cracked with pure hatred. “Do you have any idea that while you were in custody, your mother passed away?” “Lily dragged her injured body, fresh from surgery, to try and save your mother. She stood at the operating table for twelve hours straight without a single drop of water. When your mother didn’t make it, Lily collapsed crying, and she paid for the entire funeral out of her own pocket!” “She blamed herself! She took time off work every single year on the anniversary of your mother’s death to visit her grave. She did everything for you, Chloe! And you slaughtered her!” At the mention of my mother, my eyes finally welled up with uncontrollable tears. Seeing my emotional crack, Ethan relaxed his fists. The hand that had once knelt before me to slip a promise ring onto my finger now gently touched my shoulder. “Chloe, where did you hide Lily?” “If you show remorse and cooperate, I can talk to the DA. I can get you a plea deal.” I looked up at him, my tears turning into a bitter, mocking laugh. “A plea deal?” “Ethan, you are a cheating piece of trash. Who gave you the right to offer me mercy?”

Ethan’s face turned bright red with embarrassment and anger. The deputy captain, who had been taking notes, couldn’t hold back anymore. He stood up and yelled: “That’s complete bullshit!” “After you stabbed Dr. Lily, Captain Carter felt so guilty that he only took care of her out of obligation! He was terrified she would sue you and ruin your life!” “After you vanished, Captain Carter used all his vacation days just to look for you across the country. Even when Dr. Lily came to the station, it was only to share leads about where you might be!” “You were gone for three years. Captain Carter’s father was on his deathbed, and his last wish was to see his son get married. Dr. Lily felt sorry for the old man, so she suggested a fake wedding just to make a dying man happy!” Ethan let out a long sigh and turned his back to me. The deputy captain pointed a shaking finger at my face. “Because we couldn’t find you, and Dr. Lily was single, we all begged Captain Carter to just legally register the marriage to give her some security. She sacrificed her reputation for him!” “And now you frame him as a cheater? Chloe, you are utterly delusional!” Ethan turned around, his face a portrait of profound grief. “Chloe, do you want to know the real reason why Lily and I had that wedding?” He walked over and threw a diamond ring onto the table. “Lily said you hated her because of a misunderstanding. She wanted to use the wedding to lure you out so we could explain everything to you.” “Every single detail of that wedding was designed based on your favorite things. The dress you always wanted, the ring you picked out—they were all waiting in the dressing room for you.” “As for Lily, she wore a cheap, rented dress and a plastic prop ring just to get through the ceremony. When you didn’t show up, she posted the wedding video on TikTok, hoping you’d see it and come home.” The live chat flooded the screen again. [Oh my god, I remember that TikTok! People were mocking her in the comments because her dress looked so cheap and the ring was way too big.] [I was one of those trolls… I thought her husband didn’t love her. I feel sick. I’m so sorry!] [This is heartbreaking. Dr. Lily was a saint.] Looking at the ring on the table, my mind drifted back to three years ago. Ethan had just proposed to me. I had just graduated with my master’s degree and accepted a dream job offer. My mom’s condition was stabilizing, and she was about to be discharged. I was so happy, so full of hope for the future. I had called Lily immediately. “Lily! Ethan proposed! You have to be my maid of honor! I want you to be there to watch me walk down the aisle!” Lily had laughed and agreed over the phone. The moment I hung up, the first thing I searched for wasn’t my wedding dress, but her maid of honor gown. If only I hadn’t seen what I saw. If only I hadn’t walked into that room. The ring that was supposed to be on my finger had been replaced by cold, heavy handcuffs. The man who once held me and whispered that I was his entire world was now standing on the opposite side of the glass. He was demanding that I reveal the location of the monster who destroyed everything. “Chloe, if you have even a shred of humanity left, tell me where Lily is.” I closed my eyes tightly, a single tear slipping down my cheek. “The cemetery columbarium. Section A, Row 3, Niche 2. What you’re looking for is right there.”

The police moved fast, cordoning off the cemetery within minutes. But when they forced the locker open, there were no ashes. Only a thin, lightweight manila envelope. Ethan slammed the envelope in front of me. “Chloe, are you playing games with us to buy time?” The deputy captain urged him, “Captain, let me take over the interrogation. Dr. Lily might still be alive! You and the team need to go search the area. Every second we waste here could cost her her life!” As Ethan hesitated, I tilted my chin toward the envelope. “Did you actually look at the files inside?” Ethan pulled on his gloves and ripped the envelope open. Inside was a signed organ donor consent form. The edges of the paper were stained with dried, dark red blood, but nothing was more painful to look at than my mother’s shaky signature at the bottom. Ethan frowned. “What is this supposed to mean, Chloe?” “Do you think your mother was forced to sign this by Lily? I was there! It wasn’t like that at all!” “Lily didn’t even bring the paper. A nurse on duty mentioned the organ shortage program, and your mother volunteered to sign it herself!” I finally lost my composure. I screamed, my voice cracking: “Volunteered?! Ethan, did you throw your five years of detective training into the trash?!” For the first time, the live chat started to turn. [Wait… is it possible the doctor manipulated the mom into signing the donor card, and then let her die on purpose?] [This is giving me chills. If that’s true, I totally understand why Chloe went on a killing spree. Who wouldn’t?] [She killed four other people, right? Weren’t those victims all connected to the hospital’s transplant unit? Oh my god, we are getting close to the truth.] [I’m crying for Chloe. Her best friend murdered her mother for profit, her detective boyfriend married the killer, and now he’s interrogating her. This is sick.] Ethan noticed the shift in the comments. His face turned incredibly ugly. Just as he was about to argue, the interrogation room door was kicked open. “Captain! We have a major lead!” “Chloe Miller has been operating in South America for the past three years. According to international intelligence, she is a key player in an underground human organ trafficking ring!” The announcement hit the room like a bomb. Ethan stared at me, his jaw clenching so hard I thought his teeth would shatter. “Chloe, your acting is superb. I almost fell for it.” “You were the one who brainwashed your mother into signing that form, weren’t you?” “You traffic organs! And to frame Lily, you didn’t even spare your own mother! Are you even human?!” The live chat went wild. [What the hell! Chloe is the boss of an organ ring?!] [So she forced her mom to sign, let her die, framed the doctors, and then murdered everyone who knew the truth to silence them?!] [Holy shit. This is the plot twist of the century. She is a literal demon.] Looking at the comments, I laughed so hard that tears of blood felt like they were streaming down my face. Ethan could barely stand straight. “Chloe, do you have anything to say for yourself?” I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “What’s left to explain? You’ve already written my sentence.” The deputy captain stood up. “Take her back to the holding cell. All units, mobilize! Find Dr. Lily!” Ethan didn’t move. As the guards dragged me past him, he reached out his hand, hesitating. But in the end, he said nothing. After forty-eight hours of intense search, the police found what was left of Lily Harrison. She was buried in the plot right next to my mother’s grave. Her body was twisted and broken, all her limbs and her spine snapped and shattered. When the forensics team laid her out, they realized she had been buried alive, forced into a desperate kneeling posture of penance and begging. The deputy captain’s eyes turned red. “Chloe is a monster…” Ethan fainted on the spot. The medical examiner’s report concluded: “Every single one of the victim’s viable organs had been surgically harvested.” I hadn’t lied when I said I didn’t know where she was. Because every piece of Lily Harrison was in a different zip code.

When the trial began, Ethan sat in the gallery dressed in black. He sat among the weeping families of the other victims. I kept my eyes down as the prosecutor read the charges. “…The defendant, Chloe Miller, did willfully and with premeditation commit five counts of first-degree murder, resulting in immediate death.” “Furthermore, the defendant has been linked to over 480 counts of international organ trafficking over the past three years, causing catastrophic societal harm.” “Defendant, you may now present your defense.” I remained silent. The gallery erupted into furious screams. “What defense?! She’s a parasite!” “My son studied for twelve years to become a surgeon! She slaughtered him and tried to ruin his reputation by calling him a smuggler!” “She killed five doctors! Hang her! Give her the chair!” They held up framed photos of the deceased, their faces twisted in grief. Dozens of camera flashes blinded me. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it was clogged with rusted iron. It was my old trauma. Whenever my emotions peaked, my selective mutism would paralyze my vocal cords. Lily knew this. Ethan knew this too. That was why, when we were kids, Lily always had to speak up for me when I was bullied. I looked toward Ethan in the crowd. But he was swallowed by the angry mob. Suddenly, raw eggs and small rocks flew over the security barrier, pelted against my forehead. Blood trickled down into my eyes, turning my vision a blurry scarlet. I could only look at the judge and shake my head. When the judge handed down the verdict—death by lethal injection—the courtroom erupted into cheers. The families sobbed and hugged one another. The judge asked one last time, “Defendant, do you understand your right to appeal?” I still couldn’t speak. I nodded, then shook my head. The gavel slammed down. It was over. I closed my eyes. Lily, you won. … As the guards led Chloe away, Ethan instinctively took a step forward. But he was instantly swamped by the cheering families dragging him out of the courtroom. Reporters shoved microphones into his face the second he stepped outside. “Captain Carter! You caught the monster who killed your wife! How do you feel about the death penalty verdict?” “We heard the killer was your college sweetheart. How do you process such a betrayal?” Ethan felt a suffocating pressure in his chest. He couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind. Three years ago, when Chloe supposedly stabbed Lily… she hadn’t said a single word in her defense then, either. The more desperate Chloe was to explain, the more silent she became. Ethan’s face went pale. “Back to the precinct!” he yelled, turning to the deputy. “Pull the evidence from three years ago—the knife Chloe used to stab Lily, and Lily’s original medical report! Now!” The deputy was confused, but seeing the sheer panic in Ethan’s eyes, he didn’t dare hesitate. When the medical files were delivered, Ethan read every single syllable. When he finished, his eyes were bloodshot. He screamed: “File an emergency stay of execution! Chloe’s case is a setup!”

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Five years of living together, and Ethan only gave me $300 a month for groceries. He told me his take-home pay was only $1,500 a month, and that we needed to pinch pennies so we could save up for a wedding. I believed him. I never bought a dress that cost more than fifteen dollars. In the scorching summer, I didn’t even dare to turn on the AC because of the electric bill. Then, while doing the laundry, a custom jewelry receipt slipped out of his suit pocket. It was for a $10,000 diamond ring. I was ecstatic for exactly ten seconds. Until I saw the recipient’s name. It belonged to a woman I had never heard of. I opened his laptop. His bank statements were wide open on the screen. His actual monthly salary was $10,000. And he was transferring $8,000 of it to that woman every single month. The measly $300 he threw my way was the price tag he put on our eight-year relationship. When he came home that night, I asked him about the ring. He paused for a second, then gently stroked my hair. “I just ordered it for a coworker, babe. You’re overthinking.” But the moment he stepped into the kitchen, his phone on the table lit up. The caller ID was a single red heart emoji, followed by a word: Wife.

Ethan didn’t get home until almost eleven o’clock. He kicked off his shoes, saw me sitting at the dining table in the dark, and walked over to gently brush a stray hair from my forehead. “Why are the lights off?” “Saving electricity,” I replied. He let out a soft laugh and pulled a sandwich out of the fridge. “You didn’t make dinner tonight?” I looked him straight in the eye. “Ethan, what was that custom jewelry receipt in your pocket?” His hand holding the sandwich froze. Only for a split second, before his face relaxed into a natural smile. “Oh, that? I ordered it for a coworker. Did you go through my pockets?” “It fell out when I was doing the laundry,” I said. “$10,000. Your coworker must be incredibly generous.” He looked down and chuckled, sliding the sandwich toward me. “Well, she makes good money.” He said it so casually. So casually that I almost believed him. But the image of that $10,000 monthly income statement was burned into my brain, searing hot and painful. As he turned to walk into the kitchen, his phone on the table flashed. The contact name: A red heart emoji, followed by—Wife. I looked down and slowly ate the sandwich. I didn’t say another word. The next day was Saturday. Ethan left early in the morning, claiming his team had to go into the office to audit some urgent data. I sat on the bed for a long time before pulling out my phone to look up the address I had secretly copied down. The Pinnacle Apartments. One of the most expensive luxury high-rises downtown, where even rent was sky-high. I had never even bought a cup of coffee in that neighborhood. Then, I searched the name Chloe Sterling on Twitter. A beautifully curated profile popped up. Her feed was filled with her aesthetic lifestyle. Gym sessions, luxury travel, trendy cafes, and designer outfits. Every single photo radiated the effortless ease of someone who was thoroughly pampered. Her latest post was from yesterday. The caption read: My hubby worked late but still took me to that exclusive sushi spot I’ve been dying to try. Waited two months for this reservation, totally worth it! At the edge of the photo, I caught a glimpse of Ethan’s profile. He was feeding her a piece of premium bluefin tuna, a tender smile on his face. Just last week, I had asked him if we could get sushi. He had said it was a waste of money and that we could just make it at home. I scrolled down. A month ago, she had posted: Woke up to a brand-new car! Hubby thought my old ride wasn’t safe enough, so he bought me a BMW in cash! How did I get so lucky? A white BMW was parked in a pristine underground garage, with a massive bouquet of roses sitting in the passenger seat. My car was a beat-up second-hand sedan. It had broken down several times, and Ethan had never once offered to help fix it. When I said I wanted to buy a new one, he told me that taking the subway was cheaper, so why waste money on a car? I scrolled further back. Three years ago: Happy three-year anniversary! Hubby upgraded all our home appliances! He says a home is the most important place, so we have to live comfortably. Three years. Ethan and I had been together for eight years, living together for five. Which meant, in our fifth year together, he had started a whole new life with someone else. From our fifth year to our eighth year. He had laid next to me in our cramped bed, whispered, “Audrey, just wait a little longer,” while in another home, he was living the exact life he had promised me but never delivered. I locked my phone, leaned against the headboard, and stared at the peeling paint in the corner of the ceiling. It had leaked during last summer’s storms. Ethan had said hiring a contractor was too expensive and that he’d patch it up over the weekend. A year had passed. It was still unpatched. At four in the afternoon, I drove over to The Pinnacle Apartments. I parked across the street, watching the building through my car window. The lobby was bathed in warm, golden light. A doorman in a crisp uniform stood at the entrance. I looked down at my pilled hoodie and faded jeans. I didn’t even have the courage to step inside. I sat there all afternoon. As dusk began to fall, Ethan’s car pulled out of the underground garage. A young woman was sitting in the passenger seat. She was resting her head on his shoulder. Ethan had one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently holding her fingers. There was a look on his face I had never seen before. Relieved, happy, completely carefree. When he was with me, he was always frowning. He was always tired, always stressed, always complaining about pressure. Their car turned the corner and vanished. I started my engine and slowly drove away. At nine that night, my phone buzzed. It was an unknown number. “Audrey, you sat in your car outside The Pinnacle for three hours this afternoon. The building security showed me the surveillance footage.” “You’re Audrey Miller, right? The girl Ethan told me about?” My fingertips turned ice-cold. A second message popped up immediately after. “Don’t worry, I don’t mean any harm. But I think there are some things we need to talk about.” I texted back: “I’m not his ex. I’m his girlfriend. We never broke up.” The other side was silent for a few seconds. “Audrey, you probably don’t know this yet.” “But in Ethan’s mind, you guys ended a long time ago.”

The messages kept popping up on my screen. Ethan told me you have severe depression and that you’re mentally unstable. He was terrified of breaking up with you. He was scared you’d do something crazy. That’s why he’s been dragging this out, giving you a little allowance every month just to keep you calm and safe. I stared at the words “keep you calm,” and a wave of nausea hit my stomach. I typed out a reply: “How much did he tell you about me?” Chloe replied instantly. Everything, honestly. About how your mother had a mental breakdown and jumped off her building. About how you were bullied as a kid, and how you tried to slit your wrists in high school. Ethan said he’s been carrying you on his back this whole time, but he’s just so exhausted. He said you’re like a black hole. No matter how much love he pours in, it’s never enough. My fingers hovered over the screen. I couldn’t type a single word. Those were the dark secrets of my past, the abyss I had spent over a decade crawling out of. It was the past I had finally overcome so I could sleep without nightmares, walk alone at night without shaking, and look in the mirror and smile. Ethan had told me that my scars weren’t a burden to him. He had promised he would never tell a soul. And now, a woman he had known for less than three years knew exactly where my deepest scars were, better than I did. Chloe kept typing. Audrey, I didn’t mean to hurt you. In the beginning, Ethan didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend. When he finally confessed, I agreed to wait for him. But we truly love each other. Look, this is what he got me for my birthday last month. An image popped up. A Tiffany necklace resting next to a bouquet of red roses. The card read: To my darling Chloe, Happy Birthday. Here’s to the rest of our lives together. My birthday was also last month. Ethan had sent me a Snapchat: Happy birthday! I’ll make you some noodles tonight. Not even a single flower. After he made the noodles, he went straight to his room, saying he was tired. I had sat alone in the living room, eating those noodles, actually feeling like I was the luckiest girl in the world. Chloe sent a voice note next. I tapped it. A sweet, high-pitched voice filled the quiet room. “Audrey, Ethan only loves me. He says you’re too clingy and that you make him feel like he’s suffocating. Just let him go, and let yourself go too, okay?” I locked my phone and walked out onto the balcony. The night wind whipped against my face, freezing cold. The streetlights below cast a dim, yellow glow. People were walking briskly, none of them stopping. I stood there for a very long time, until my shoulders grew completely numb. I went back inside and sent her one final message. “Thank you for telling me all this.” She replied instantly: So you’re willing to back off now? I didn’t answer. Two days later, Ethan quietly unlocked the front door and walked in. A luggage tag was still attached to his duffel bag, but he had already changed into clean clothes. Seeing me sitting on the couch, he smiled and handed me a small paper bag. “Audrey, the business trip was so hectic, but I managed to grab you these cookies.” I took the bag. They were cheap, five-dollar supermarket cookies. He went on a trip and brought me a five-dollar box of cookies. And for that other woman, a $10,000 diamond ring. I looked at his face and asked him, word for word. “Ethan, where exactly did you go on this business trip?” “Seattle,” he said smoothly. “Then why did Chloe post a picture of the two of you in Hawaii two days ago?” The living room went dead silent. The smile on Ethan’s face completely shattered. He slowly sat down on the other end of the couch, clasped his hands together, and bowed his head. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “So you know.” It wasn’t a question. It was just a cold, tired sigh.

“Yes,” I said. “I know everything.” Ethan rubbed his temples and looked up at me. There was no panic in his eyes, and certainly no guilt. There was only the calm, resigned look of someone who was glad the act was finally over. “Audrey, I’m tired of lying to you.” “Chloe and I have been together for almost three years.” “She… she’s the one I actually want to marry.” When those words hit my chest, it felt like a blunt blade hacking me right down the middle. “And what about me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Ethan’s eyes flickered. “You?” He let out a bitter, soft laugh. “Audrey, it’s not that I don’t care about you. But you’re just too heavy.” “Every single day with you, I’ve had to walk on eggshells. I had to manage your emotions, your illness, your fears.” “Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?” “I never asked you to carry me,” I said, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve been seeing my therapist. I’ve been taking my meds. I was getting better.” Ethan shook his head. “You think you were getting better, but I wasn’t.” “Every day I come back to this cramped, 400-square-foot studio, looking at your anxious face, these faded curtains, and that leaking ceiling…” “I felt like I was suffocating.” His phone buzzed again. He glanced at it. He didn’t answer, but his lips involuntarily twitched into a small smile. “Then why didn’t you just break up with me?” I demanded. “You could have just told me. Why did you have to go behind my back?” Ethan took a deep breath, finally letting his real thoughts slip out. “Because I was terrified you’d kill yourself.” He stared at me, his gaze cold and clinical. “Your mother did the exact same thing. She decided life was too hard and just jumped off a building.” “You’re just like her. The moment something goes wrong, you look for an exit.” “In high school, when you slit your wrists and called me in the middle of the night… my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the phone.” “I never wanted to go through that nightmare again.” “So I stayed. I humored you. I sent you $300 every month just to keep you fed and stable.” “But Audrey, that isn’t love.” “That was—” He paused. “A chore.” I sat frozen, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. I was fourteen when my mother jumped. A crowd had gathered at the bottom of the building. I had rushed downstairs so fast I lost a shoe. She was lying on the pavement, blood seeping from her hair, her eyes half-open. After that, I had to transfer schools three times. At every school, kids would point at me and whisper—”Her mom was crazy,” “Her mom jumped,” “She’s going to lose her mind too.” Only Ethan had stood by me. He had held my hand tight and told me, “Audrey, you are not your mother. You’re going to be okay.” He was the one who dragged me out of the dark. And now, he stood before me, ripping open my deepest, most sacred wound just to use it as an excuse for his betrayal. My throat tightened, my voice shaking violently. “Ethan, you promised me. You promised you would never use my past against me.” He shrugged. “I’m not using it against you. I’m just stating facts.” “Chloe is different. With her, I can breathe. I can be happy. I don’t have to watch her every second, terrified she’s going to snap.” “Your anxiety, your illness, your trauma… it’s too heavy.” “I can’t carry it anymore.” The doorbell rang. Ethan stood up to answer it. Chloe was standing outside. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress and immediately wrapped her arm around his. She glanced at me, her eyes filled with condescending pity. “Ethan, are you okay? I was worried you couldn’t handle her on your own.” I stood up, holding myself steady against the table. “Don’t worry,” I said, looking her in the eye. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.” Ethan squeezed Chloe’s hand and looked back at me. “Audrey, I didn’t want to hurt you. Let’s just end this civilly, okay?” I forced my trembling legs to stand straight. “Okay.” They left together. The moment the door clicked shut, I collapsed onto the floor. My entire body shook uncontrollably. But I didn’t cry. I couldn’t shed a single tear.

For four whole days, I didn’t step outside that door. The curtains were drawn tight. My phone sat on the far end of the couch, and every time it buzzed, my body flinched. Chloe’s messages were relentless. I knew they were from her because the screen lit up every few minutes. On the fifth day, I finally picked up the phone. Thirty-two unread messages. They were screenshots of her conversations with Ethan. Baby, I already booked the wedding dress appointment for next month. Are your bags packed? I’ll pick you up for our flight tomorrow morning. I miss you. FaceTime tonight? Every word was like a red-hot iron rod, searing into my numb flesh. She had also sent a paragraph of text. Audrey, he saw that you turned off your phone and said he’s finally relieved. He said he hates it when you throw fits. He told me that when you have an episode, nobody can stop you—just like your mother. Just like your mother. Those words spun in my head a thousand times. I threw the phone against the wall. Then, I crawled over to pick it up. The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. I curled up in the corner of the kitchen, staring at the small pot on the stove that Ethan used to make oatmeal for me every morning. A sticky note was still stuck to the fridge in his handwriting: Remember to eat breakfast. Eight years. I remembered him sitting in the back row of our high school classroom, sliding his lunch into my lap. I told him I wasn’t hungry. He said, “If you don’t eat, I don’t eat.” He was the one who helped me report my stepfather, Frank. The day the police dragged that monster away after six years of abuse, Ethan had sprinted over and wrapped me in his arms. He had said, “Audrey, no one will ever hurt you again.” “I’ll protect you.” His eyes had been red, his chin resting on my head, his chest warm and comforting. That was the first time in my life I felt like living might actually be worth it. But now. He had taken those precious memories and turned them into weapons to discard me. I didn’t know when he had started playing the savior to my face while calling me a psycho behind my back. On the night of the sixth day, I took a shower and put on clean clothes. I turned on the lights and began packing my things, one by one. I only took what was mine. My toothbrush, my towels, and the dark red cardigan my grandmother had knit for me before she passed away. The lamp Ethan bought me? Left behind. The letters he wrote me? Left behind. The framed photo of us? I turned it face down on the table. I zipped up my suitcase and walked to the entryway. I stuck a sticky note on the shoe rack. Eight years. I’m returning them to you. I placed the apartment keys right next to it. When I stepped out, the hallway was dead silent. The elevator dinged open. I rolled my suitcase inside and pressed the button for the lobby. Before the doors closed, I took one last look at the place I called home. And then, I never looked back.

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I loved collecting limited-edition mystery boxes. Once, I finally managed to snag a super rare, limited-edition figure. Overjoyed, I placed it gently on my husband’s office desk. He glanced at it, then casually tossed it into the trash can. “You’re twenty-six, Clara. Still playing with toys? Grow up.” My heart sank. Left with no choice, I listed the figure on eBay. Almost the second it went live, it was bought by a local woman. She messaged me, saying she lived nearby and asked if I could hand-deliver it to her place. The moment I stepped into her house, I froze. An entire wall of custom glass display cases met my eyes, packed to the brim with incredibly rare, astronomically expensive designer toys. The hostess smiled at me warmly. “My younger boyfriend bought all of these for me,” she said softly. “I know I’m thirty-eight, but I still love these mystery figures. My boyfriend says that in his eyes, I will always be his little girl. He supports whatever I want to buy.” As she spoke, the front door clicked open. A man walked in, carrying two cups of Starbucks. He walked straight over to her, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. The moment I turned my head and saw his face, my entire body went numb. This man, who spoiled a thirty-eight-year-old woman like a queen, was the exact same husband who, just yesterday, had sneered and told twenty-six-year-old me that I was being childish. Ethan Smith!

Our eyes met. In an instant, every drop of blood drained from his face. “Ethan, honey, you’re staring. You’re scaring her.” Vivian wrapped her arm around his intimacy, then handed one of the coffee cups to me. “She’s Clara. She’s the girl who sold me the limited-edition figure.” Ethan forced himself to look calm. He gave me a stiff nod. “Hello.” But the very next second, he turned his head to Vivian, his voice softening into a gentle tone I had never heard before. “You don’t need to buy secondhand figures anymore. Whatever you want, I’ll buy you brand new ones.” Vivian playfully shook his arm. “Secondhand is fine! Otherwise, my heart aches thinking about how you have to wait in line for hours just to get those limited releases.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my palms. Yet, I felt absolutely no pain. Just now, Vivian had bragged that this entire wall of toys had been sourced by her boyfriend from all over the world. One particular figure caught my eye, making my vision blur with tears. It was an overseas exclusive released a year ago. I had wanted it for so long. Back then, Ethan had been on a business trip to that exact country. I hadn’t even dared to ask for the expensive figure itself; I had only quietly begged him to bring back a matching commemorative sticker. He had frowned coldly and snapped at me: “I have a mountain of work to handle on this trip. I don’t have time to mess around with useless little things.” It turned out he wasn’t busy. He just didn’t want to spare even a shred of patience for me. For Vivian, he was more than willing to stand in line for an entire day just to get her the rarest collectibles. “Oh, Clara, I actually have a duplicate of one figure. Let me give it to you. I’ll go grab it from the bedroom.” The moment Vivian turned and ran into the hallway, Ethan lunged forward. He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the corner near the entrance. “Go home first,” he hissed in a low, panicked whisper. “Wait for me there. I’ll explain everything when I get back.” My voice cracked. “Explain what? Explain how you’ve been keeping another woman behind my back? Explain your affair?” A flash of sheer panic crossed his eyes. He shoved me out the front door and slammed it shut. My wrist throbbed where he had grabbed me. Tears finally spilled over, hot and uncontrollable. Through the heavy wooden door, their voices drifted out. “Where did Clara go? I didn’t get to give her the toy yet.” “I just had her leave first.” “She’s just a stranger selling secondhand toys. There’s no need to get close to her anyway.” Then came the unmistakable, soft sound of them kissing. I leaned against the hallway wall, my stomach churning with sudden, violent nausea. I almost charged back in to scream at them, but a sudden realization hit me. My period was a month late. I stumbled all the way home, my hands shaking as I tore open a pregnancy test in the bathroom. Two bright red lines. I was pregnant. Before I could even process the news, the front door lock clicked. Ethan was back. In a panic, I wrapped the pregnancy test in toilet paper and shoved it deep into the trash can. He walked into the living room. Seeing my deathly pale face, he frowned slightly. “Why do you look so pale? Are you sick?” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I coldly flinched away from his hand. “About earlier, it’s not what you think,” he said, drawing his hand back with a sigh. “Vivian is my childhood neighbor. When I was young and my family was struggling to put food on the table, her family practically kept me fed.” “She has congenital heart disease. Before her mother passed away, she begged me to take care of her. I only agreed to pretend to be her boyfriend to keep her stress-free so she can recover.” “So you cheated on our marriage and bought her a whole wall of designer toys just to keep her ‘stress-free’?” My chest felt so heavy, as if a massive boulder was crushing my lungs. I could barely breathe. “Ethan, I only just realized that you have another home out there!” “And she is eight years older than you!” I couldn’t control the volume of my voice anymore. My entire body was shaking like a leaf. “You called me childish for liking these toys, but you flew across the globe just to fill an entire wall for her!” A flicker of guilt crossed Ethan’s eyes, and his tone softened slightly. “Alright, look. I always thought those toys were stupid anyway. If you want them so bad, I’ll buy them for you from now on.” “I’ll handle things with Vivian. She has a weak heart and can’t take any shocks. Do not go and make a scene in front of her.”

I stared quietly at this man I had loved for six years. Suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” He assumed I was just throwing a tantrum. A disdainful smirk played on his lips. “Stop acting up. I’m only taking care of her. It’s not like I don’t love you. You’re the one who holds our marriage certificate. You’re my actual wife.” “Besides, you can’t survive without me anyway. Don’t mention divorce ever again.” “I have to go take Vivian to the movies now. Stay home and stop being so unreasonable.” The front door clicked shut softly behind him. I squeezed my phone, my fingers trembling as my vision blurred. Six years of dating. Three years of marriage. I had poured my heart and soul into this relationship, only to be told not to “make trouble” for his mistress. Before I could even catch my breath, a Snapchat message from Vivian popped up on my screen. I am so sorry about earlier. My boyfriend has a bit of a temper, so we couldn’t host you properly. I saved a mystery figure for you. Come over and get it whenever you’re free, okay? I tapped into her Instagram profile. I scrolled all the way to the bottom, reading through years of her posts. Every single caption was about Ethan. The figure collection I wanted was completely sold out worldwide, but Ethan contacted the manufacturer directly and had a custom set made just for me! My birthday surprise was a giant box of rare figures. He even skipped a massive business meeting just to wait in line for them. My sweet boy spoils me so much. I casually mentioned that I liked a celebrity-endorsed figure, and he had it delivered to me the next day. My man always keeps his promises. In every single photo, there were traces of Ethan. Years ago, to help Ethan secure his first big business contract, I had drunk myself to the point of vomiting at dinner meetings just to get the investors’ approval. All of that, just so he would occasionally have time to accompany me to a toy store. Yet, he always found the time to snatch up the latest releases for Vivian at the very first second. By the time I scrolled past her last post, the sharp pain in my chest had faded into a cold, hollow numbness. I typed back a reply: No need. I don’t want it. I didn’t care about the toys anymore. And Ethan? I didn’t want him either. I immediately contacted a divorce lawyer and packaged every single piece of evidence of his infidelity. That entire wall of figures in Vivian’s house had been bought using our joint marital assets. When we went to court, I wouldn’t leave them a single penny. That night, Ethan came home carrying a brand-new, freshly released luxury box set of figures. He held it out to me. “Look. Isn’t this the series you wanted for months?” I didn’t even look up. I continued folding my clothes. “Return it. I don’t want it.” The smile on his face slowly dissolved into irritation. “You literally cried begging me for this before. Now that I bought it, you’re pushing it away? Stop picking fights on purpose, Clara.” “I really don’t want it,” I repeated, my voice entirely flat. “What you owe me is never going to be paid back by a box of toys.” His face darkened completely. “Clara, is there ever going to be an end to this!” Right then, his phone rang. In his frustration, he accidentally hit the speakerphone. Vivian’s sobbing voice echoed clearly through the quiet room: “Ethan… my chest hurts so much. I can barely breathe…” Ethan’s face went pale. He spun around to rush out, swinging his arm back violently. His elbow slammed hard into my chest, throwing me violently to the floor. He didn’t even notice. My lower back collided painfully with the sharp corner of the nightstand. I gasped, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. The next second, a sharp, stabbing pain bloomed in my lower abdomen. “Ethan!” I grabbed the hem of his coat, my eyes red with sheer terror. “My stomach hurts so much… please, take me to the hospital first. I’m begging you…” He yanked his coat out of my grip with an impatient scowl. “Enough, Clara! Stop using these fake illnesses to compete with her! She is facing a real life-or-death emergency!” With that, he turned on his heel and rushed out. The pain in my abdomen grew excruciating. Something warm and wet began to trickle down my thighs. Using every ounce of strength left in my body, I dialed 911. By the time the ambulance rushed me to the hospital, it was too late. Because of the physical impact, I had miscarried. I lay on the cold hospital bed, my eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. My throat was so dry I couldn’t even squeeze out a single tear. While the agonizing D&C surgery was tearing my body apart, Vivian posted on Instagram. In the photo, she was nestled comfortably in Ethan’s arms while he leaned down, gently rubbing her chest. The caption read: Ethan was so scared. My heart actually didn’t hurt that bad, I just wanted to trick him into coming over to cuddle me. Tehehe, setting this post to “Hide from Ethan”! Seeing those words, the emotions I had bottled up for years finally shattered. I buried my face in the hospital pillows and sobbed hysterically. I had waited three years for this baby. And because of one petty lie from her, my child was gone! Not long after, another message from Vivian popped up. Clara, let’s meet up. You really have to take this figure, or I’ll feel too guilty to sleep. My fingers hovered over the screen before typing a single word: Okay. Perfect. It was time to lay everything out on the table. The next day, the moment I walked up to the entrance of the designated cafe, Vivian charged straight at me. Before I could even react, she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.

Slap! The sound was deafening. “Clara, have you no shame?” Vivian’s eyes were bloodshot, her voice shaking with rage. “I genuinely wanted to be your friend, but you’ve been seducing my boyfriend behind my back!” I clutched my burning cheek, my ears ringing. She unlocked her phone and shoved the screen right in front of my face. It was a photo of Ethan and me holding hands, walking in the park a month ago. “I went through your Instagram and found out you two have been hooking up for ages!” “You selling me that figure and coming to my house was just an excuse to brag and hurt me, wasn’t it?” Her crying grew louder, drawing the attention of everyone around us. She clutched her chest, her knees bending as if she was about to kneel on the floor. “I’m begging you, please. My heart is weak. I can’t live without Ethan.” “Please let us go. I’ll give you my entire wall of toys, okay?” The crowd of onlookers began to whisper, pointing their fingers and aiming their phone cameras directly at me. “How shameless. Being a homewrecker and bullying a sick woman? Doesn’t she fear karma?” I took a deep, freezing breath. I raised my hand and slapped Vivian back with twice the force. “Your boyfriend?” My voice shook as I pulled our official marriage certificate out of my purse. “Ethan and I have been legally married for three years.” “As for you, every single toy in your house was bought with our joint marital assets.” “My lawyer has already prepared the paperwork. I will reclaim every single cent.” The crowd fell dead silent. Then, the whispers shifted: “Wait, they have a marriage certificate?” “So the sick woman is actually the mistress?” Vivian swayed on her feet, her face turning pale. “No… that’s impossible… Ethan told me he was single…” Before she could finish, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and shoved me aside. “Clara!” Ethan rushed forward, shielding Vivian protectively in his arms. The gaze he threw at me was filled with pure hatred. “Who gave you the right to hit her? You know she has a heart condition!” Vivian clung to his chest, whimpering softly. “Ethan, tell me the truth… are you married?” “Am I… am I the other woman?” Ethan hesitated for a single second. “No.” “She’s delusional. That marriage certificate is fake. She’s just a crazy stalker who has been obsessed with me.” Those words pierced through me like icy needles, freezing me in place. “Ethan, how can you lie like this? We are legally—” His face went completely cold. He grabbed Vivian’s hand. “Vivian, hit her back.” I stared at him in utter disbelief. “She put her hands on you first. Give her what she deserves. I will never let anyone bully my girlfriend.” His words gave Vivian all the confidence she needed. Slap! Another heavy blow landed on my other cheek. Vivian bit her lip, looking smug. “That’s what you get for lying and trying to be a homewrecker. You deserve it.” Then she looked up at Ethan, putting on a worried face. “But… how did she get such a realistic certificate? Forging legal documents is a crime. Should we call the cops on her?” A flicker of hesitation crossed Ethan’s eyes. The next second, he snatched the marriage certificate from my hands and ripped it into pieces. The white shreds fluttered to the dirty pavement like drops of cold rain. I remembered the day we got married. He had held that certificate like it was the most precious treasure in the world, kissing it over and over. “Clara, you’re finally my wife.” But in just three years, for another woman, he had torn our marriage to shreds. “It’s just a fake piece of paper anyway. Now let’s see what you use to spread your lies.” His voice was cold and final. The crowd erupted again: “So she really is a crazy stalker!” “What a psycho!” Ethan’s expression shifted slightly, and he seemed like he wanted to stop the crowd from crowding me, but Vivian grabbed his sleeve and collapsed. “Ethan, my chest… it hurts so much…” Before he could worry about anything else, he scooped her up in his arms. He threw a quick, cold glance at me before turning and running toward his car. The angry crowd surged forward. Shoves, curses, and kicks began raining down on me. But I couldn’t feel any pain. The blows felt distant, as if they were happening to someone else. My vision blurred, and I welcomed the darkness as I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Ethan was sitting beside me, holding my hand, his eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. “You’re awake? Don’t move. You have multiple soft tissue bruises. You need to rest.” “I’ve dealt with the people who attacked you. Don’t call the police. Let’s just let this go.” I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip and let out a dry laugh. “Mr. Smith, what is our relationship?” He paused, his brows furrowing. “What nonsense are you talking about? Of course we’re married.” My eyes burned, but I just laughed louder. “Married? Do we have a certificate?”

A flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by impatience. “Vivian has a heart condition. I had to say that at the moment. Why did you have to bring that paper out to provoke her in public anyway?” “Did you really want to watch her die right in front of you?” “It’s just a piece of paper. I’ll take you to get a replacement certificate once she’s stable.” It felt like my heart had been sliced open, letting the freezing winter wind howl through my chest. I gripped the hospital bedsheets tightly, barely able to breathe. “Ethan, let me go.” “Let’s get a divorce. I’ll step aside for both of you.” His breath hitched. A trace of panic flashed in his eyes, and his voice softened. “I had nothing when we started, Clara. You stayed with me through the worst of it. We are meant to be together for life.” “I’m only taking care of Vivian out of gratitude. As my wife, you should support me.” “Besides, if you hadn’t gone to confront her with the certificate, I wouldn’t have said those things.” “Just focus on resting. I’ll make this up to you.” He stood up and left, leaving the room in deafening silence. How pathetic. There were a million ways to repay a debt of gratitude, yet he chose the one that ripped my heart to shreds. I shook my head with a bitter smile, pulled the IV needle out of my hand, and discharged myself. My bags were already packed at home. The signed divorce papers were placed neatly in the center of his desk. As I was about to carry my suitcase downstairs, the loud sound of a drill echoed from the living room. A few construction workers were busy working on the wall. “Are you Mrs. Smith?” One of the workers smiled warmly. “Mr. Smith ordered us to install a custom, floor-to-ceiling glass display wall for your designer toys.” “He paid extra to ensure we used the highest quality materials. Your husband really spoils you…” Spoil me? I let out a mock laugh. I opened my phone, and Vivian’s latest Instagram post popped up on my feed. In the photo, she was flaunting a massive five-carat diamond ring on her ring finger. So glad my man finally cleared up the misunderstanding with that crazy stalker. We are going to be so happy. To all the irrelevant people out there, please disappear. The comment section was bustling. Someone asked about the wedding date, and she replied with a blushing emoji. Wedding is tomorrow! Every guest gets a limited-edition mystery toy as a party favor! I looked down at my own ring finger, where a cheap silver band sat. When his first business failed and he was completely broke, we had bought this ring from a street vendor for fifteen dollars. He had held my hand with tear-filled eyes, promising: “Clara, I can’t give you a proper wedding right now, but I will make up for every single thing I owe you in the future.” Now that he was incredibly wealthy and successful, he had all the money in the world to buy grand gestures—but they were all for someone else. The glass wall he promised me was never meant for me. And the diamond ring he promised was now on another woman’s finger. The front door opened, and Ethan walked in. He glanced at the near-complete glass wall. “Do you like it? I had them rush the installation just for you.” “Yeah.” “By the way,” he paused, his tone casual, “I’m going to hold a wedding ceremony for Vivian tomorrow.” “Her heart is failing fast. The doctors said she doesn’t have much time left.” “I just want to do a good deed and make sure she doesn’t leave this world with regrets.” I smiled softly. “I see.” “You’re… not mad?” He was taken aback, then a look of relief washed over his face. He quickly pulled out his phone and wired a large sum of money to my bank account. “Don’t worry, it’s just a fake wedding. Once it’s over, I’ll take you to get our marriage certificate replaced.” “Go buy whatever toys you want over the next few days. Fill up this wall. I’ll check on it when I get back.” I accepted the transfer and nodded. “Okay.” Before he could say anything else, his phone rang. Vivian’s voice came through, sweet and needy. “Ethan, come quickly! Help me choose my wedding dress…” Ethan immediately turned on his heel and rushed out. The workers packed up their tools and smiled. “We’re all done, ma’am. Are you satisfied with the result?” I thanked them and sent them on their way. Once they were gone, I went to the storage room, grabbed a heavy metal hammer, and walked back to the living room. I raised it high and smashed it hard against the glass wall. Shatter! With a deafening crash, spiderweb cracks shot across the expensive glass. One swing to shatter six years of devotion. One swing to destroy every ounce of love I had for him. One swing to end this broken marriage. “We’re done, Ethan.” I dragged my suitcase out the door. Before boarding my flight, I set a scheduled email to go off the next morning. Attached were my miscarriage report and the photo of the shattered glass wall. The email body contained only one sentence: I returned your toy wall. Happy wedding. I turned off my phone and boarded the plane. When I landed the next day and turned my phone back on, a barrage of missed calls and texts flooded my screen.

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“Give me the baby.” The smell of blood still lingered in the delivery room. I lay weakly on the operating table, watching Sebastian Sterling lift our newborn daughter from my side and place her into Vanessa’s arms. She lowered her head with a smile and kissed the baby’s forehead. “Sebastian… she looks just like you.” “Sebastian… give me back my baby…” I screamed with the last bit of strength I had left. All I got in return was a cold glance from above. “Chloe, you were nothing more than a surrogate.” “The baby belongs to Vanessa. That’s your fate.” The door slammed shut behind them, shattering the ten years of love I had sacrificed everything for. After he left, a massive fire consumed the private recovery center. Now, I sit in the top-floor office of W Capital, watching the security footage as Sebastian charges into the burned-out ruins like a madman. He drops to his knees before a charred body, letting out a desperate, heart-wrenching scream. I lift my coffee, take a slow sip, and smile. “Mr. Sterling…” “Welcome to hell.”

Chloe’s POV A charity gala in London. The venue was incredibly luxurious. I wore a black haute couture gown, sitting quietly on a sofa in the corner. I was eight months pregnant, my belly heavily swollen, my face deathly pale. Not far away, in the center of the crowd, Vanessa Kent stood in a white dress, smiling sweetly. She held a beautiful boy of about three in her arms. “Mommy, I want that cake,” the boy pointed at the long dessert table, his voice clear. “Okay, sweetie. Mommy will get it for you,” Vanessa pampered him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. The socialites around them showered them with compliments. “You are so lucky, Mrs. Sterling. Sebastian spoils you to death. And your son is so smart and cute.” “Yeah, everyone in London knows Vanessa is the only woman Sebastian Sterling loves.” Hearing those words, my fingers tightened around my glass, my knuckles turning white. Mrs. Sterling? I, Chloe Vance, was Sebastian’s legal wife. And that boy calling Vanessa “Mommy” was Ethan. The son I carried for ten months. The son I spent a whole day and night in agonizing labor to bring into this world. But now, my own son called my enemy his mother. And I, his biological mother, could only sit in the corner like an invisible ghost, watching them play happy family. The click of high heels drew closer. Vanessa walked up to me, holding a glass of champagne. She looked down at my swollen belly, a smirk playing on her lips. “Chloe, why do you look so awful? Is the pregnancy too hard on you?” Vanessa’s voice was barely a whisper, meant only for the two of us. I didn’t look up. My voice was ice cold. “Get lost.” Vanessa didn’t get angry. Instead, her smile widened. “Sebastian said that once this baby is born, whether it’s a boy or a girl, I will raise it. He said I’m too weak to conceive, and since you’re so healthy, you should have more babies for me.” I snapped my head up, glaring at her. Vanessa flinched slightly at the coldness in my eyes, but she quickly recovered her smug, victorious look. “Don’t look at me like that. You know Sebastian would never have married you if it weren’t for the Vance family’s influence in Europe. You’re nothing but a surrogate to him.” “Shut up,” my voice shook. “What? Can’t handle the truth?” Vanessa laughed softly. “Chloe, so what if you hold the title of Mrs. Sterling? I am the one Sebastian loves. Your son calls me Mommy, and the baby in your belly will call me Mommy too. You get nothing.” Just then, the heavy doors of the ballroom pushed open. Sebastian walked in, dressed in a sharp, bespoke black suit. He was tall, his face cold and handsome, radiating a powerful, intimidating aura. The moment Vanessa saw him, her smugness vanished, replaced by a weak, fragile look. She swayed on her feet, as if she were about to faint. Sebastian rushed over, catching her by the waist. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” There was a rare note of panic in his deep voice. “I’m fine, Sebastian.” Vanessa leaned into his chest, her eyes red as she shot me a timid glance. “I just wanted to come over and check on Chloe. I think I said the wrong thing and upset her.” Sebastian’s cold gaze swept over to me. I sat there, my back straight. I met his gaze without explaining, without flinching. “Chloe,” Sebastian’s voice was low, laced with warning. “Vanessa is fragile. Don’t push her.” I found it almost laughable. Me? Pushing her? “Sebastian, which of your eyes saw me push her?” I asked coldly. Sebastian frowned. I knew he hated it when I spoke to him in this tone. After all, I used to be soft, gentle, my eyes always filled with love and a desperate need to please him. “You better behave yourself,” Sebastian let go of Vanessa and looked down at me coldly. “Remember your place. You are just a trophy wife. The children belong to Vanessa. Don’t cause any more trouble, or I won’t hesitate to send you back to the countryside estate early.” My heart felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing it, making it hard to breathe. This was the man I had loved for ten years. I took a deep breath, forcing down the bitterness, and let out a mocking laugh. “Fine,” my voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Since you care about her so much, Mr. Sterling, keep her on a leash. Don’t let her run around like a mad dog, biting everyone she sees.” “Chloe!” Sebastian snapped. People around us were starting to stare. Sebastian lowered his voice, his eyes dark and menacing. “Have you lost your mind?” “Yes, I have,” I stood up. Because of my large belly, my movements were slow. I looked him dead in the eye. “I lost my mind the day I married you.” Without another glance at them, I turned and walked toward the exit. Behind me, I heard their voices. “Sebastian, did I make things difficult for you?” Vanessa asked, her voice cracking. Sebastian’s tone softened. “No. I’ll have someone take you and Ethan home first.”

Chloe’s POV The Sterling Countryside Estate, London. The autumn wind was freezing, making the dry leaves rustle in the dark garden. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, staring at the night. Sebastian had forced me back here to wait for labor. Meanwhile, he, Vanessa, and my son Ethan lived in a luxury penthouse in downtown London. This place was nothing but a gilded cage, keeping me, the forgotten Mrs. Sterling, locked away. The next afternoon, the roar of a car engine echoed outside. Sebastian’s Maybach pulled into the courtyard. The door opened, and Vanessa stepped out, holding Ethan’s hand. Sebastian followed closely behind. Seeing that tiny figure, my eyes immediately welled with tears. I hadn’t seen Ethan in three months. Supporting my lower back, I hurried out into the garden. “Ethan,” my voice trembled. I pulled a small, hand-painted wooden transformer toy from my pocket, one I had spent days building for him. “Look, what is this?” Ethan stopped. He looked at me, then looked back at Vanessa. Vanessa smiled gently. “Ethan, go say hi to Miss Vance.” Miss Vance. The name felt like a dagger piercing my chest. Ethan walked up to me, but he didn’t take the toy. Instead, he shoved me with all his might. Being heavily pregnant, my center of gravity was already off. The sudden push sent me stumbling back, and I fell hard onto the grass. “Bad woman!” Ethan pointed at me, screaming. “Mommy said you want to steal me away! You’re a bad woman! I don’t want your stupid toy!” The wooden toy fell to the ground, snapping in half. I clutched my stomach, my face turning pale. I looked at the son I had carried for ten months. Seeing the raw hatred and fear in his eyes tore my heart into bloody pieces. “Ethan!” Sebastian strode over, pulling Ethan behind his back. He glared down at me, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” I couldn’t speak. I just stared blankly at the broken toy on the ground. Vanessa rushed over, hugging Ethan tightly, looking utterly heartbroken. “Ethan, don’t be scared. Mommy’s here. Chloe, if you have a problem, take it out on me! Don’t scare the child!” As she spoke, she suddenly slipped, falling toward a nearby rosebush. “Ah!” Vanessa screamed. Sebastian reacted instantly, catching her by the waist and pulling her into his arms. But a stray rose thorn still managed to scratch her arm, drawing a bead of blood. “Vanessa!” Sebastian’s face turned pale, his eyes instantly turning icy. He turned his head and glared at me, having just scrambled up from the grass. His eyes were filled with pure disgust and rage. “Chloe, haven’t you had enough?” Sebastian’s voice was freezing. “Not only did you scare Ethan, but you also pushed Vanessa? What the hell is wrong with you?” I stood in the biting wind, shivering. “I didn’t push her,” my voice was quiet but firm. “I saw it with my own eyes. You still dare to lie?” Sebastian wouldn’t listen to a single word of my explanation. He pointed to the open lawn and said coldly, “Since you love being outside so much, stand right there. You can come back inside when you realize what you did wrong.” The autumn wind whipped against my face like knives. Dressed in a thin maternity dress, I stood alone in the empty garden. “Sebastian, forget it. Chloe is still pregnant…” Vanessa murmured hypocritically, leaning against his chest. “She brought this on herself,” Sebastian said without an ounce of pity. “If I don’t teach her a lesson, she will never learn.” With that, he picked up Vanessa, took Ethan’s hand, and walked back into the villa. The heavy front door slammed shut, locking all the warmth inside. I was left alone in the dark. The wind grew stronger, cutting through my thin clothes. I wrapped my arms around my swollen belly, my body shaking uncontrollably. I stood straight. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t beg. I was like a soulless statue. I knew Sebastian was watching me from the window. I also knew he wanted to see me break. He wanted me to cry and beg him like I used to. But I didn’t.

Chloe’s POV I stood in the freezing wind for two agonizing hours. My body felt completely numb, and then, a sharp, pulling pain shot through my lower abdomen. At first, it was just a dull ache, but quickly, it turned into intense, crushing waves of pain, like a saw tearing me apart from the inside. I doubled over, cold sweat instantly drenching my back. “It hurts…” I groaned, biting my lip. A sudden gush of warm liquid ran down my thighs, soaking my dress. My water had broken. “Chloe!” Sebastian’s voice echoed across the lawn. He rushed down the steps and scooped my freezing body into his arms. I felt like a block of ice, cold sweat dripping from my forehead. “Go to the hospital! Get the car now!” Sebastian roared at the butler, a hint of panic in his voice that even he didn’t seem to notice. The Maybach sped through the dark streets. Outside the VIP delivery room, through the glass window, I could see Sebastian pacing back and forth. The air was thick with the sharp smell of disinfectant. Vanessa had arrived too. She stood to the side, watching Sebastian’s anxious pacing with a flicker of jealousy in her eyes. She walked up, gently taking his hand to comfort him. It took ten agonizing hours. As the first morning light broke, a loud, healthy baby cry finally echoed in the room. The nurse walked out holding a small bundle, a smile on her face. “Congratulations, Mr. Sterling. It’s a healthy baby girl. Both mother and child are doing great.” Inside the room, I lay exhausted on the bed, drenched in sweat, barely having the strength to keep my eyes open. “The baby… let me see my baby…” I whispered weakly to the nurse. The nurse was about to bring the baby over, but the door suddenly pushed open. Sebastian walked in, with Vanessa right behind him. “Give me the baby,” Sebastian told the nurse. The nurse hesitated, glancing at me on the bed, but she ultimately handed the baby to him. Sebastian took the bundle, turned, and handed it directly to Vanessa. “Vanessa, this is our daughter,” his voice was incredibly soft. Vanessa took the baby carefully, her face lighting up with absolute joy. “Sebastian, she’s beautiful. She looks just like you.” Lying on the bed, watching this scene, my pupils dilated in horror. “Sebastian…” I squeezed the words out of my throat with the last of my strength. “Give her… back to me…” Sebastian turned, looking down at me. His eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth. “Chloe, we already agreed. Vanessa will raise this child.” “No…” Tears finally spilled from my eyes, soaking into my hair. “She’s my daughter… I beg you, let me hold her, just once… let me look at her…” I struggled to sit up, but the IV line in my wrist yanked painfully. “Vanessa’s depression is acting up again. She needs this baby to stabilize her emotions,” Sebastian’s voice didn’t waver. “Since you’ve given birth, rest well. I will handle your family.” With that, he wrapped his arm around Vanessa, who was cradling my baby, and they walked out of the delivery room. “Sebastian!” I screamed in pure despair. But the only response was the heavy slam of the door. In that moment, I heard the sound of my own heart shattering. Ten years of love, ten years of humility, ten years of silent endurance. Shattered into dust by the man I loved. I stared at the blank white ceiling. My tears ran dry, and my eyes became completely hollow, dead. My heart was dead.

Chloe’s POV Three days after giving birth. The VIP room was quiet, save for the rhythmic, cold beeping of the heart monitor. I leaned against the pillows, my face pale, but my eyes were terrifyingly calm. No crying, no screaming. I was like a hollow shell with its soul sucked dry. The door clicked open, and Vanessa walked in. She was wearing a gorgeous designer suit and high heels, cradling a pink blanket in her arms. My eyes fell on the bundle. My fingers twitched, but I quickly forced myself back into a state of numbness. “Chloe, how are you feeling today?” Vanessa walked to the bedside, looking down at me with a victorious smile. I didn’t say a word. I just stared at her coldly. Vanessa didn’t care. She gently rocked the baby. “Look how good she is. Sebastian named her Lily.” Lily. I repeated the name in my head, feeling a wave of intense nausea. Sebastian, you really are heartless. “Do you know? Sebastian held Lily and rocked her all night long,” Vanessa leaned down, lowering her voice, her words dripping with venomous pride. “Chloe, so what if you have your family backing you? You’re nothing but a surrogate, a tool to hatch my baby. Now that the job is done, you’re lower than a dog in the Sterling house.” I listened in silence. Suddenly, a cold, faint smile appeared on my lips. Underneath the blanket, my hand secretly hit the record button on my phone. “Are you done?” My voice was raspy, but it carried an eerie, chilling calm. “If you are, get the hell out.” Vanessa was taken aback by my gaze, her anger flaring. “Chloe, what are you so proud of? Believe it or not, with just one word from me, Sebastian can kick you out of this country whenever he wants!” Just then, the door opened again. Sebastian strode in, holding a luxurious velvet jewelry box. Seeing Vanessa there, he frowned slightly. “Vanessa, why are you here? There are too many germs in a hospital. It’s not good for the baby.” “I just wanted to check on Chloe,” Vanessa instantly wiped the smugness off her face, replacing it with a gentle, caring expression. “Sebastian, Chloe seems depressed. I was worried, so I brought Lily to keep her company.” Sebastian looked at me. I leaned against the headboard, watching them coldly, as if I were watching a pathetic comedy show. Sebastian walked to the bedside and placed the velvet box on the nightstand. “This is a pink diamond necklace I just bought at an auction,” Sebastian said, his tone carrying the high-and-mighty air of charity. “Consider it compensation for giving birth to Lily. Recover well, and stop throwing tantrums.” I stared at the box, and suddenly, I laughed. I reached out, picked up the priceless necklace, and right in front of Sebastian’s face, I flipped my wrist. Thud. The luxury box fell straight into the trash can next to the bed. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Vanessa gasped. Sebastian’s face turned dark. He leaned down over the bed, his hands framing my shoulders, trapping me in his shadow. “Chloe, do you have any idea what you just did?” he growled, his hot breath fanning across my face, filled with dangerous pressure. I met his gaze, my eyes completely lifeless. “Sebastian, take your compensation, take your woman, and get the hell out of my room,” my voice was quiet but powerful. “You disgust me.” Sebastian’s pupils shrank. He grabbed my jaw, his grip so tight I thought he was going to shatter my bone. “What is this? Playing hard to get?” Sebastian sneered. “Chloe, do you think acting like this will get my attention?” I didn’t struggle. I just stared at him as if he were a complete stranger. “I just find you repulsive,” I said coldly. Sebastian let go of my jaw as if he had been shocked. He stared at me deeply, then turned and stormed out of the room. “Sebastian!” Vanessa cried, cradling the baby as she chased after him. The room fell silent once more. I pulled out my phone and saved the recording. Looking out at the gray sky, a sharp, decisive light flashed in my eyes.

Chloe’s POV One month later. The annual Sterling Group press conference was held at the London Convention Center. Because rumors of our rocky marriage had leaked, the company’s stock price had been fluctuating. To reassure the board and the shareholders, Sebastian demanded that I show up and play the doting wife. In the backstage dressing room. I wore a perfectly tailored white business suit, my hair styled elegantly, my makeup flawless. I looked nothing like a woman who had just given birth a month ago. I sat on the sofa, staring coldly at my phone. On the screen was a message from Brandon, my father’s trusted assistant: “Miss Vance, everything is ready. The team in New York has secured the escape plan.” I typed back a single word: “Good.” The door opened, and Sebastian walked in. He looked powerful and commanding in his sharp navy suit. He walked over to me, his eyes lingering on my makeup-clad face. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his usual coldness. “You know what to say out there, right?” Sebastian’s voice was deep. I locked my phone and stood up, smoothing down my blazer. “Don’t worry, Mr. Sterling. Playing the perfect wife is my job, after all.” Sebastian’s brows knitted. I knew he hated my cold, business-like tone. “You better not pull any stunts,” he warned coldly. The press room was blinding with camera flashes. Sebastian held my hand as we walked onto the stage. In front of the cameras, he was the picture-perfect, caring husband, and I was the elegant, supportive wife. “Mr. Sterling, there are rumors that you and Mrs. Sterling are divorcing, and that you have a mistress. Is that true?” a reporter asked sharply. Sebastian smiled warmly, turning to look at me, his eyes dripping with fake tenderness. “Rumors are just rumors. My wife and I are happier than ever. We just welcomed our second child, and our family is complete.” The reporter pointed the mic at me. “Mrs. Sterling, is that true?” I looked straight into the camera, my lips curved into a flawless smile. “Yes. My husband is wonderful, and we are very happy.” My smile was perfect, but the hand Sebastian was holding was as cold as ice. Once the conference ended, we returned backstage. The moment the door shut, I yanked my hand away and took two steps back, putting distance between us. This action completely set Sebastian off. He took a large step forward, trapping me against the wall, his hands slammed on either side of my head, locking me in his chest. “Why are you pulling away?” Sebastian growled, his eyes locked onto mine. I looked up at his angry face, my eyes still dead. “The show is over, Mr. Sterling,” my voice was flat. “What’s wrong? Did you get too into character?” “Chloe!” Sebastian gripped my shoulders, his hold incredibly tight. “Why do you have to speak to me like a corpse?” “How else should I speak to you?” I mocked, a cold smile on my lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A quiet, obedient tool? I am playing the perfect surrogate and PR prop just like you wanted. What else do you want from me?” “Do you think acting like this will make me feel guilty?” Sebastian sneered, hiding his sudden panic. “Chloe, you will never escape being Mrs. Sterling.” He let go of me and stormed out of the dressing room. I leaned against the wall, watching him leave. My eyes grew entirely cold. Escape? Sebastian, very soon, you will see exactly how I escape you.

Sebastian’s POV Lately, even though I went back to the penthouse every day, my mind was elsewhere. I would spend hours alone in the study, staring at my phone, and sometimes, looking at Lily would bring a wave of heavy thoughts. Late one night, a few days later. I was working on documents in my study when I heard the nanny scream in terror from downstairs. “Oh my god! Vanessa cut her wrists!” I bolted from my chair and ran downstairs. In the bathroom, Vanessa lay in a pool of blood. There was a deep cut on her wrist, blood staining the white tiles red. “Vanessa!” I rushed over, scooping her up. “Call an ambulance! Now!” Thanks to the quick response, Vanessa’s life was saved. In the hospital room, Vanessa leaned weakly against the pillows, tears streaming down her face. “Sebastian, I’m sorry… I don’t want to live anymore, I can’t take this…” she sobbed pitifully. “What happened?” I held her hand, my face dark. With trembling hands, Vanessa pulled a black notebook from under her pillow and handed it to me. “The nanny found this in the room Chloe used to stay in… See for yourself.” I took the notebook and flipped it open. It was filled with Chloe’s handwriting, every line dripping with pure hatred: “I hate Vanessa. I hate her for taking my baby.” “Why won’t that little brat Ethan just die? If he dies, Sebastian might finally look at me.” “That stupid Lily… I will strangle her with my own hands one day. I will make Vanessa suffer.” Reading those words, the blood in my veins turned to ice. My hands shook, and rage completely took over my mind. “She doesn’t just curse the kids. She sends me anonymous threatening texts every day.” Vanessa sobbed, hugging me. “Sebastian, I’m so scared. I’m scared she’ll actually hurt Ethan and Lily.” I slammed the notebook shut, standing up, radiating a terrifying, murderous aura. Half an hour later, I kicked open the doors of the countryside villa. Chloe was sitting on the sofa, reading. Hearing the noise, she looked up, her face completely calm. Smack! The black notebook was thrown hard at her face. The sharp edge of the paper cut her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. “Chloe, how can you be so evil?!” I roared like a wounded beast. Chloe didn’t touch her face, nor did she look at the notebook on the floor. She just stared at me. “Look at what you wrote! You cursed your own children! Are you even human?” I rushed over, grabbing her collar, dragging her up from the sofa. I stared into her eyes, desperately searching for a hint of panic or an excuse. If she explained, if she said she didn’t write it, I might… I might have actually investigated it. But Chloe didn’t. She looked at my furious face, and suddenly, she laughed. It was a laugh filled with mockery and deep sadness. “Yes, I am that evil,” Chloe’s voice was soft, but crystal clear. “Sebastian, since you’ve already decided it was me, why bother asking?” My heart plummeted. She didn’t even care enough to explain. “Good. Very good,” I gritted my teeth, my eyes savage. “Since you’re so crazy, I’ll send you to a place meant for crazy people.” I shoved her away, pulled out my phone, and called my assistant. “Send her to Blue Water Sanitarium. No one is allowed to visit her without my permission, and she is never to step foot outside!” Blue Water Sanitarium was built on a secluded cliff on the outskirts of London. On paper, it was a rehab center. In reality, it was an isolated prison. Chloe was dragged away by two bodyguards. As she reached the door, she suddenly stopped and looked back at me. That look was so cold, so empty, as if she were looking at a dead man. My heart skipped a beat under that gaze. A suffocating feeling instantly wrapped around my entire body.

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I was forced to kneel on the floor, using a pin to alter my husband’s mistress’s evening gown. My knees pressed against the cold marble floor, and an old injury throbbed as if shattered bones were grinding together. Ethan Smith stood nearby, gazing at Amber Rose with unmistakable tenderness. Those same eyes had once looked up at me as he knelt before me, swearing that if he ever cheated again, he would give up his inheritance. Now, all he said was, “It’s the first time she’s ever loved something this much. I just want to give her the best.” The needle pierced my fingertip. A drop of blood bloomed across the hem of the gown. Lowering my eyes, I quietly wiped away the blood. The only thought in my mind was this: Next week, while my flight takes off from Paris and Ethan escorts Amber down the red carpet at Milan Fashion Week, the court’s divorce papers will arrive on his phone right on schedule. Chloe POV Ethan Smith spent an entire year chasing Amber Rose, a rising young model. Over the past year, his gifts to her, from diamond necklaces to luxury yachts, had constantly made headlines in New York. And now, he was spending a fortune to host a solo fashion show for Amber. He wanted her to shine on the runway at Milan Fashion Week next week. To make that happen, Ethan actually came to me, asking to borrow a few custom gowns from my studio. One of the gowns Amber had her eyes on was my masterpiece. I had spent three years designing and crafting it for the upcoming International Fashion Design Competition. But Ethan didn’t care about my hard work. He brushed it off like it was nothing. Seeing my silence, Ethan’s face darkened slightly. “You have designed so many dresses, Chloe. Missing one won’t hurt you. You can just use another piece for your competition.” “But Amber is different. She just started modeling. The major luxury brands won’t lend her their couture lines yet.” I swallowed the bitter laugh bubbling up in my throat. But in the end, I couldn’t help but let out a cold sneer. “Well, Ethan, you can buy her a yacht. Why not just buy her a custom couture gown? Surely, the great Ethan Smith isn’t getting cheap now?” A no-name model like Amber could only rent out-of-season designs from three years ago, even with her agency’s best efforts. Sure, Ethan could buy her a brand-new season runway piece. But wearing retail luxury would only make his new mistress a laughingstock in the elite fashion circle. He obviously didn’t want that. But if Amber wore an exclusive piece from a rising, award-winning independent designer like me… The next day, her PR team could spin it as her having “unique, sophisticated taste,” solidifying her image as an elegant muse. Ethan’s expression hardened. His voice turned ice-cold. “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” “A tantrum? I am your legal wife. Why would I waste my energy being angry at a mistress? Am I right, Ethan?” I looked at him, my eyes filled with nothing but cold detachment. I didn’t know if Ethan was too arrogant, or if he truly didn’t care. How could he possibly think that I could watch my own husband publicly chase another woman and feel absolutely nothing? Ethan frowned, as if suppressing his annoyance. He softened his tone slightly, trying to sound gentle. “Chloe, no one can ever take your place. You will always be Mrs. Smith.” “This is the first time I’ve genuinely liked a girl this much. I just want to give her the best.” I almost laughed out loud. Looking at the deeply emotional man in front of me, I felt a wave of absurdity. Five years ago, when I wanted to marry Ethan, his grandfather, Arthur Smith, was dead set against it. To prove my worth, I was locked in the freezing, damp cellar of the Smith estate, kneeling on the icy stone floor for three days and nights without food or water. During those three days, Ethan stood outside the locked door, crying with me. He swore to God that if he ever betrayed me, he would deserve to burn in hell. My knees were ruined that week, leaving me with chronic joint pain that could never be cured. Yet, just two years later, he cheated on me for the first time. Back then, I threw my wedding ring in his face and demanded a divorce. Ethan went crazy. He self-harmed and even crashed his sports car into a guardrail just to force me to show up. He bought a private island, knelt before me, and cried, promising that if he ever looked at another woman again, he would forfeit his inheritance to the Smith empire. I thought he genuinely couldn’t live without me. So, I agreed to take him back. But only two years had passed, and he was doing it again. My understanding, my gentleness, and my quiet compliance… In Ethan’s eyes, they had all become boring and taken for granted. Meanwhile, Amber’s wild defiance and constant rejections had reignited his urge to conquer. I forced down the rising bitterness in my chest and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So I should thank you for keeping me as Mrs. Smith? Do I need to help you win over your mistress too?” The faint smile on Ethan’s lips vanished. He stared at me blankly. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing my brow down to my jawline. Suddenly, he squeezed hard, making me gasp from the pain. Then, he uttered cold, harsh words. “Have the dress delivered next week. I’ll write a check to double the investment in your studio.” My eyes welled with tears from the physical pain, but I just smiled silently. Ethan’s patience was thin. This was his warning sign before a blowout, and I knew better than to push him right now. But beneath my sleeves, my fists clenched so hard that my nails dug deep into my palms. Ethan let go of my face and turned to leave without another word. The moment the front door slammed shut, I took out my phone and made a call. “Grandpa Arthur, I’m divorcing Ethan. Please arrange my departure as soon as possible.” On the other end of the line, Arthur Smith let out a long sigh, but agreed immediately. “No problem, Chloe. I’ll have everything ready for you.” After hanging up, I opened my email. There lay an acceptance letter from the Paris National School of Decorative Arts. Without a second thought, I clicked the “Accept Admission” button.

Chloe POV The more Amber acted distant and proud, the hotter the passion burned in Ethan’s eyes. He turned his gaze toward me, where I sat quietly in the corner of the studio. “Chloe has a gentle heart. She won’t mind,” Ethan said smoothly. “Take Amber to the fitting room and try the dress on. See what needs to be adjusted.” I twitched the corner of my mouth, said nothing, and stood up. “Miss Rose, follow me.” The moment the fitting room curtain pulled back, even Ethan, who was used to seeing beautiful women, had a flash of awe in his eyes. The dress hugged Amber’s slender figure perfectly, complementing her cold, aloof vibe. It made her look like an ethereal fairy. Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He walked over to her, his eyes filled with intense possessiveness. “You look beautiful.” Amber rotated her wrists, but her brows knitted together slightly. “It is a beautiful dress. But the waist is too tight, and the train is a bit too long. It’s uncomfortable to walk in. I have to take huge steps, which completely ruins my posture.” Hearing her complaints, Ethan didn’t think she was being difficult. Instead, he comforted her gently and turned to order me: “Chloe, fix it for her. Adjust it until she’s comfortable.” The room went dead silent. This dress was my masterpiece for the international competition. Every single seam, every proportion was the result of countless calculations. If I altered it to fit Amber’s body, the original structure of the design would be completely ruined. More than that, Ethan was asking me, his legal wife, to act as a personal tailor for his mistress. It was humiliating. I didn’t move. I just stared at Ethan. Ethan’s brow furrowed, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. “Adjust it for her.” He was absolutely sure that I wouldn’t dare defy him right now. My fingers curled tight inside my sleeves. Finally, I let out a self-deprecating laugh, grabbed the pins from my sewing kit, and slowly knelt on the floor. The moment my knees touched the cold marble, an icy pain shot straight into my bones. This was the permanent damage left from kneeling in that freezing cellar for three days just to marry him. Once, during the winter, Ethan would cup my knees with his warm hands, his eyes red as he begged me to forgive him for letting me suffer. But now, he stood there, completely indifferent, watching me kneel at another woman’s feet. Seeing me kneel so submissively, Amber looked slightly uncomfortable and took a half-step back. “Mrs. Smith, you don’t have to do this yourself…” “Hold still, Miss Rose,” my voice was calm, completely devoid of emotion. “I am a designer. Altering clothes is part of my job.” I kept my head down, focusing all my attention on pinning the hem of Amber’s skirt. I did a sloppy job. In fact, I was practically ruining my own artwork. But this dress didn’t belong to me anymore. I didn’t want it. Ethan stood by, looking at Amber with warm eyes, occasionally glancing down at me. His voice softened. “Chloe, if Amber wins an award in this dress, it will be great publicity for your studio too. Don’t overthink this.” I didn’t reply. My hands trembled as a sharp pang of pain shot through my knee joints, distracting me. The sharp pin in my hand slipped and stabbed deep into my thumb. A bead of bright red blood welled up instantly. Without even flinching, I casually wiped the blood onto the inside lining of the dress, hiding the stain in the deepest, darkest fold of the fabric. “Done.” I stood up. But because I stood up too fast, my vision went black, and I swayed on my feet. Ethan saw me stumble and instinctively reached out to catch me. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amber watching. Remembering how much Amber hated my status as his wife, he pulled his hand back. I caught his retreating motion, laughing silently at myself. To show his loyalty to his mistress, there was truly nothing he wouldn’t do. “The fabric of this dress is very delicate. Make sure to steam it before wearing it,” I advised flatly, purely out of professional habit. Amber looked at me with her usual haughty expression. But in front of Ethan, she managed a nod. “Thanks.” Ethan let out a sigh of relief, thinking I was finally being “obedient.” He wrapped his arm around Amber’s waist and led her out of the studio. The moment the door closed, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Grandpa Arthur’s lawyer: “Miss Chloe, your divorce petition has been fast-tracked and approved by the court.” “Your plane ticket and enrollment paperwork for Paris are all set.” I stared at the screen, slowly closing my eyes. I wiped the remaining smear of blood from my finger onto the cold marble table. A soft smile played on my lips as I looked in the direction Ethan had gone. I felt completely at peace. I was actually a little curious. Next week, when Ethan realized he was single again… How would he react? Probably not at all. Our love had died a long time ago anyway.

Chloe POV I had no idea how I managed to drag myself out of the studio and back to the penthouse. The moment I unlocked the front door, the icy pain I had been suppressing all day finally exploded in my joints. It felt like thousands of frozen needles were biting into my knees. Thud. My legs gave out completely, and I crashed heavily onto the cold floor. A cold sweat broke out over my forehead instantly. As I lay there, pale and trembling, trying to crawl toward the medicine cabinet under the table, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. Ethan walked in. He was back earlier than I expected. His charcoal grey suit carried the damp chill of the autumn rain outside. He saw me collapsed on the floor. His movements paused as he took off his shoes, his brow furrowing. “Why are you on the floor?” His tone was still gentle, but carried a hint of exasperation. “Are you still throwing a fit about pinning the dress earlier?” I was so pale my face was bloodless, cold sweat dripping down my cheeks. My voice shook with every breath. “Ethan… my knees. The chronic pain is acting up. Please… get me my medicine box…” Ethan just stood there, looking down at me. There was no panic in his eyes, only cold detachment. “Chloe, I only asked you to adjust a dress,” he said slowly, draping his suit jacket over the back of the sofa. “Don’t use self-harm to get my attention. The floor is cold. Get up by yourself.” My chest felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, making it heavy and painful to breathe. Before I could say another word, Ethan’s phone on the sofa buzzed violently. He picked up and answered right in front of me. In the quiet living room, the driver’s panicked voice came through clearly: “Mr. Smith! Miss Rose insisted on getting out of the car on the coastal highway! She refused to take your car and won’t let me follow her!” Ethan’s calm face instantly shattered. “Keep an eye on her! Follow her slowly! I’m coming right now!” He hung up without a second thought, grabbed his jacket from the sofa, and turned to rush out. “Ethan…” Using the last of my strength, I dragged myself forward and grabbed the hem of his trousers. My knuckles turned white from the sheer effort. Ethan’s footsteps stopped. He looked down at his gripped trousers, then at my pathetic state on the floor. He knelt down slightly, reached out with his long fingers, and grabbed my wrist. Then, one by one, he forced my fingers off his pants. “Chloe, she’s out in the rain,” Ethan said, his voice steady and flat. “She’s too stubborn. If I don’t go, she’ll walk in the storm until morning before she ever asks anyone for help.” He pried my thumb away and stood up straight. “You know how to take care of yourself. Take some pills and go to sleep.” He looked down at me, his eyes showing a touch of cruelty. “Babe, don’t make trouble for me right now.” With that, he threw his coat over his arm, turned around, and walked out the door without looking back. The heavy front door clicked shut. I collapsed back onto the cold floor, staring at the closed door. Amber was walking in the rain, refusing his car and his men. Yet he was frantic, terrified she would catch a cold, rushing to find her. Meanwhile, I was lying here, in too much pain to even crawl, and he abandoned me. I didn’t shed a single tear. I quietly listened to the roar of his sports car engine fading into the rainy night. Slowly, I let my stiff fingers relax. Looking at my empty palms, I let out a soft, relieved laugh.

Chloe POV I dragged myself through the long, agonizing night on the cold floor. It wasn’t until daylight broke that the worst of the bone-crushing pain in my knees finally subsided. Drenched in sweat and exhausted, I pulled myself onto the sofa and swallowed two strong painkillers. Just then, my phone vibrated. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen. I answered. There was no question about how I was doing after last night. “Did you see the news? Come to the office immediately.” His voice was laced with obvious frustration. I leaned back against the sofa, my voice weak from the night of agony. “What happened?” “Someone snapped photos of me picking Amber up on the highway last night. Now the internet is saying she’s my mistress,” Ethan said coldly. “This is going to ruin her show next week. You need to clear this up.” My grip on the phone tightened. The wound on my thumb from yesterday’s pin prick was red and swollen, throbbing painfully. “How do you want me to clear it up?” “The driver is outside your door. Just come to the office. PR has the statement ready for you.” Before I could answer, he hung up. Half an hour later, I arrived at the Smith Group headquarters. Dragging my legs, which were still numb with pain, I walked into the VIP lounge of the executive suite. The room was already packed with cameras and reporters. Ethan was standing in the corner. My eyes followed his gaze. Amber was sitting on the sofa, looking as cold and aloof as ever. She was flipping through some runway materials, seemingly annoyed by the drama surrounding her. Ethan stood beside her, whispering something to her with absolute tenderness. When the PR director announced that the live stream was about to start, Ethan stood up and walked over to sit next to me on the love seat. He glanced at my pale face and whispered in a voice only I could hear, “Amber’s reputation can’t be ruined. This show is crucial for her.” The live stream started. The flashbulbs were blinding, and the reporters’ questions were sharp: “Mrs. Smith, reporters photographed Mr. Smith and Amber acting intimately last night. Is it true that Amber has come between your marriage?” Before I could speak, Ethan reached over and squeezed my hand tightly as it rested on my knee. He squeezed with immense force. His palm pressed directly onto my swollen, injured thumb. The wound that had barely clotted split open instantly. Sticky blood rushed out. A sharp, agonizing pain shot up my arm straight to my brain. I shivered violently from the pain. But Ethan didn’t notice a thing. He looked directly at the cameras, smiling warmly. “Those rumors are completely false.” His voice was firm and confident. “My wife, Chloe, is an incredibly talented independent designer, and Miss Rose is a key model we are collaborating with.” Ethan turned his head slightly, looking at me with deep affection. But beneath his amber eyes lay a cold, demanding threat. “Isn’t that right, Chloe?” The throbbing pain in my hand intensified as blood seeped into the cracks of Ethan’s fingers. Looking at the man in front of me, a wave of nausea washed over me. Suppressing both the pain in my hand and my knees, I forced a perfect, elegant smile. “Yes,” my voice was calm and steady. “Both my husband and I highly appreciate Miss Rose’s talent. The rumors of her being a mistress are completely baseless.” With that single statement, the PR crisis was instantly resolved. The moment the live stream ended and the cameras turned away, Ethan let go of my hand immediately. Without glancing at my bloody fingers, he stood up and walked straight toward Amber in the corner. “It’s done,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “Everything is cleared up. Come on, let me take you out to eat.” Amber closed her folder and stood up, her face still cold. “No thanks, Mr. Smith. I have a photoshoot later.” She walked right past him and headed out the door. Despite being ignored in public, Ethan wasn’t angry. Instead, a helpless, indulgent smile crossed his face. He didn’t even look back at me as he quickly followed her out. In the massive lounge, I was left entirely alone. I sat on the sofa. Looking at my bleeding thumb, I suddenly felt a strange sense of relief. I pulled a tissue from my pocket and slowly wiped the blood from my hand until it was completely clean. Then, I unlocked my phone and opened the chat with Arthur’s lawyer: “What time is my flight?” The lawyer replied instantly: “Monday morning, 9:00 AM. Private hangar.” I locked my screen and stood up slowly. What a coincidence. That was the exact same day Ethan was taking Amber to Milan for her big red-carpet debut.

Chloe POV As soon as the press conference ended, Amber went up to the rooftop to shoot her promotional posters. Ethan demanded that I accompany them. His reason was non-negotiable. “You’re the designer of the dress. If anything goes wrong with the gown during the shoot, you need to fix it immediately.” It was freezing on the rooftop. My thin clothes offered no protection against the biting wind, and every step I took felt like walking on knives. After only two setups, Amber suddenly stopped and glared at her hemline with frustration. “What’s wrong?” Ethan rushed over, his voice dripping with worry. “The seam is ripped,” Amber complained, her cold face twisting with annoyance. “I can’t shoot like this. I’m leaving.” She turned toward the elevator. Ethan grabbed her wrist, soothing her gently. “Don’t be mad. I’ll have it fixed right away.” He turned his gaze toward me, standing in the corner. “Chloe, come sew this up.” I looked at the dress. It was obvious that the seam had been intentionally snipped with scissors. I didn’t call her out. I just walked over and said calmly, “She needs to take it off first. Otherwise, the tailoring will be ruined.” “No way. Taking it off and putting it back on takes too long. It’ll ruin my flow,” Amber rejected instantly. Ethan looked at me and said, “Just sew it while she’s wearing it. Work around it.” I looked at Ethan, finding the situation utterly ridiculous. Sewing it while she wore it meant I had to kneel on the ground to reach the hem. “My hand was injured and got infected last night. I can’t hold the needle steady,” I said, showing him my swollen, red thumb as a final plea. Ethan frowned, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes. He didn’t seem to think my injury was a valid excuse. His tone remained smooth, but his words were merciless. “It’s just a couple of stitches, Chloe. Don’t make everyone stand in the cold waiting for you.” I looked at him, and suddenly, I smiled. Without saying another word, I pulled out my needle and thread, slowly bent my knees, and knelt at Amber’s feet. The moment my knees hit the concrete roof, a sharp pain shot through me. Cold sweat instantly soaked my back. My fingers were so stiff they barely worked. I struggled to hold the tiny needle, forcing it through the heavy fabric. The wind grew stronger. Amber shivered. “Are you done yet? I’m freezing.” Without a thought, Ethan took off his heavy designer coat and wrapped it tightly around Amber. He used his own body to block the freezing wind, shielding Amber completely in his arms. Meanwhile, I knelt at their feet, bearing the brunt of the icy wind alone. Ethan didn’t spare me a single glance. All his attention was on Amber, asking her softly if she was still cold. My fingers grew completely numb. My hand slipped, and the sharp needle plunged deep into my thumb again. Blood welled up instantly, staining the inside of the skirt. “What are you doing?!” Amber gasped. “Don’t get blood on my dress!” Ethan finally looked down. Seeing the blood on my hand, there was no worry in his eyes, only annoyance. He felt like I was ruining his moment with Amber. “Wipe the blood off and finish it quickly,” Ethan said coldly. I said nothing. I quietly put my thumb in my mouth, sucked the blood away, and went back to sewing. For ten agonizing minutes. When I finally bit the thread off and used the wall to pull myself up, my legs were completely numb. “Done.” I didn’t look at either of them. Dragging my stiff body, I turned and walked toward the elevator.

Chloe POV For the next few days, Ethan didn’t come home. Occasionally, I saw headlines of him and Amber attending high-society parties together. I also heard he was making meticulous preparations for Amber’s upcoming runway debut. But I didn’t care about those mocking news articles anymore. Whenever I had free time, I researched my upcoming courses at the Paris school. I couldn’t show up completely unprepared. Grandpa Arthur’s lawyer sent me my flight details on Sunday evening. But unfortunately, because of the freezing wind on the rooftop, I came down with a high fever on Saturday night. I had always been sensitive to the cold. Now, my body fluctuated between burning hot and freezing cold. My head throbbed painfully. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to board the flight on Monday. I lay weakly in bed, lacking even the strength to open my eyes. The bedroom door pushed open, and Ethan walked in, wheeling a suitcase. He walked over to the closet and began packed his clothes methodically. He didn’t even notice my pale, sweaty face. Only then did I remember that Monday was also the day Ethan and Amber were leaving for Milan. The grand fashion show he spent millions on. I closed my eyes. My heart no longer felt pain. Only a dead, numb silence. “Ethan,” I squeezed out the last bit of my strength to look at the man in his pristine suit. “I have a fever. Can you get me a glass of water?” Ethan paused his packing. He turned around, walked to the bedside, and touched my forehead. “Why don’t you take better care of yourself?” A weak, humorless smile touched my lips. Yes. If a woman doesn’t even love herself, how can she expect anyone else to love her? I used to be so stupid. But I never would be again. Ethan frowned. He was about to get me some water when his phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, Ethan answered immediately. Within seconds, his voice grew anxious. “How could she just disappear? Wait for me, I’m coming right now.” “Don’t worry about the flight on Monday. Everything will be fine.” Hanging up, Ethan zipped his suitcase closed. He quickly poured a glass of water, tossed some flu medicine on the nightstand, and looked at me with a mix of guilt and impatience. “Remember to take the medicine. I have an emergency. I’ll fly straight to Milan on Monday. Let’s celebrate our anniversary when I get back.” I was a bit dazed. Right. Our wedding anniversary was in a few days. He actually remembered. But I had completely forgotten. I didn’t ask him to stay. I watched him turn around and leave the penthouse without hesitation. As the front door locked, the entire place fell into a grave-like silence. I lay there quietly, feeling the fever drain the moisture from my body. After a long time, I slowly raised my hand, looking at my wedding ring. When Ethan slid this ring onto my finger years ago, he swore that if he ever betrayed me, he would lose everything. I slowly slid the platinum band off my ring finger. Then I rolled over, closed my eyes, and drifted into a heavy sleep. The next day, my fever went down a bit. I got up to clean the place. Because tomorrow was not only the day Ethan and Amber flew to Milan… It was also the day I would leave him forever and fly to Paris. I didn’t waste a single second. I dragged out several heavy black trash bags. Everything Ethan had given me over the years, I threw away. I didn’t even touch the millions of dollars worth of jewelry in the safe. I simply texted Ethan’s assistant to have them cleared out tomorrow. I only packed the things I had brought with me. In the study, I found the sketches of the custom tie clips I had designed for Ethan over the years. I fed them into the shredder without hesitation. Finally, I stood in front of our massive wedding portrait in the living room. I calmly smashed the glass frame, pulled the photo out, and set it on fire. Suddenly, the front door lock beeped. Ethan walked in. He was in a rush, probably having forgotten something. His footsteps stopped dead in the middle of the living room. He looked at the two packed suitcases on the floor, then at the ashes of our wedding portrait still smoldering in the trash can. His brow furrowed tightly, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Chloe, you use this trick way too often. It’s getting old.” His tone was still calm, but carried a condescending smirk. In his mind, my packing was just another desperate attempt to get his attention. Two years ago, when I threw my ring and packed my bags, he had begged on his knees. Now that I was doing it again, he just found it annoying. I zipped up my last suitcase, not even looking up at him. “My things are packed. I didn’t take a single thing of yours.” Ethan adjusted his cuffs and walked over to me. “Are you really going to keep throwing this tantrum just because of the Milan show?” He sighed. “This show is incredibly important to Amber. I have to be there. Be good, okay? When I get back next week, we’ll talk.” “No need,” I said, lifting my suitcase. “We have nothing to talk about.” Ethan’s face darkened completely. I knew he hated this quiet, detached version of me the most. “Fine,” he snatched his forgotten documents from the table and walked toward the door, his voice cold. “Just a reminder: the Smith family trust meeting is next Wednesday. As Mrs. Smith, you are required to attend.” He was absolutely sure I wouldn’t leave. He was sure I would show up next Wednesday, standing meekly by his side as his perfect wife. I looked at his back and gave him a perfectly calm reply. “Okay.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432644”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

We were getting ready to buy a house and get married, so the real estate agent showed us a crappy, 30-year-old fixer-upper that fit my budget. Chloe lost her mind right on the spot. She accused the agent of looking down on us. All of her friends lived in luxury high-rise condos. She threatened to break up with me if I dared to buy this run-down dump as our future home. Just as I was about to smooth things over and suggest we look elsewhere, a raspy, ancient voice suddenly echoed inside my head: “This girl has absolutely no eye for value! I’ve got 160 ounces of solid gold stashed inside these walls. That’s enough to buy ten of her friends’ luxury condos!” “Opportunity is literally slapping them in the face, and they’re throwing it away. No wonder they’re bound to be broke forever!” My entire body went stiff. I stared at the wall separating the living room and the bedroom, wondering if I was having a full-blown auditory hallucination. That wall was indeed noticeably thicker than the other walls in the apartment. 160 ounces of gold. At current market prices, that was worth nearly half a million dollars! Chloe shoved my shoulder. “What are you spacing out for? I am not living in this dump!” I snapped out of it. Marcus, our agent, was still standing there with a strained, polite smile. “Ma’am, I know it’s a bit old, but the location is unbeatable. It’s just five minutes from the subway, in a great school district, and most importantly, it’s a steal…” Chloe cut him off instantly. “A thirty-year-old piece of garbage? Eight hundred thousand dollars for barely 550 square feet? You call that a steal?” Marcus looked incredibly awkward. Chloe glared at me. “I’m putting my foot down, Ethan. If you buy this trash heap as our wedding house, we are done. I refuse to be the laughingstock of my friend group!” I opened my mouth to comfort her, but that raspy, old voice popped up again: “Hah! What a bunch of blind fools. I’ve also got three million dollars in cold, hard cash stuffed in the kitchen ceiling! With the gold in the walls, that’s a fortune. And they’re complaining about my house being old?” “Birds of a feather really do flock together. The girl is blind, and the guy is a spineless wimp. A match made in heaven!” My knees buckled. I almost fell to the floor. Three million dollars in cash in the ceiling?! I couldn’t help but glance upward. This was an old building, but a cheap drywall ceiling had been installed. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Marcus quickly stepped closer to me. “Sir, do you actually think the place has potential? The elderly owner is in a rush to sell. Her late husband was a senior accountant for a major multinational firm before he retired. He was a great guy, but he passed away suddenly and didn’t leave a will.” “The old lady is terrified of living here alone. She’s moving to Europe to live with her daughter, which is why she listed it so cheap. Market value is easily over a million.” An accountant? How did he get 160 ounces of gold? And why hide it in the walls? “What about the rest of the family?” I asked. “Just the one daughter. She’s already settled abroad. It’s not easy for her to fly back. The old lady said everything left in the house is a bonus. Furniture, appliances—do whatever you want with them. She’s not taking anything.” My heart skipped a beat. So the gold in the walls and the cash in the ceiling… were considered “bonuses”? Pretending to inspect the apartment, I strolled over to the thick wall and knocked on it twice. It sounded dull and hollow. Marcus chimed in. “The best thing about these old apartments is that you can remodel the layout easily. This wall between the living room and bedroom isn’t load-bearing. Knock it down, and you double the size of the living area. It’ll look brand new.” Afraid he’d notice my suspicion, I quickly pulled my hand back and walked into the bathroom, pretending to check the pipes. “Is the price negotiable?” Marcus’s eyes lit up. “Eight hundred thousand is already rock bottom. But man, if you’re seriously interested, I can talk to her and see if she’ll shave off another twenty or thirty grand.” Chloe stared at me in absolute disbelief. “Ethan, are you insane? Are you seriously thinking about buying this trash can?” “Can’t you see the paint peeling off the walls? The bathroom is microscopic, and the kitchen doesn’t even have a window! Do you honestly think this is all I deserve?” I opened my mouth, wanting to explain, but there was no way I could tell her about the hidden treasure in front of the agent. Just then, the old voice spoke up again, dripping with mockery: “Still trying to haggle? Do you have any idea how many people are eyeing my place?” “That bastard Derek next door—he tried to marry Arthur’s daughter years ago just to bleed them dry and steal their estate. He failed back then. But now that Arthur is gone, he’s coming for this house. He’s scheduling a viewing tomorrow. If you let him snatch it, don’t come crying to me!” My brain went entirely numb. The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them: “I actually love this place. Let’s sign the contract today.”

Marcus immediately started rummaging through his bag for the paperwork. “That’s amazing! If we sign today, we can finalize the paperwork tomorrow!” As soon as the words left his mouth, a loud, aggressive knock rattled the front door. Marcus went to open it. Standing in the doorway was a short, middle-aged man in his thirties wearing a navy windbreaker, holding the arm of an elderly woman with silver hair. “Derek? What are you doing here today?” Marcus gasped. Derek pushed his way inside, his eyes scanning Chloe and me. “The lady wanted to take a look today. We were worried tomorrow might be too late. The place isn’t sold yet, right?” Marcus looked embarrassed. “Well… actually, Ethan here is already negotiating. He’s very serious.” “Don’t waste your time,” Derek cut in smoothly. “I’ll add fifty grand. Eight hundred and fifty thousand, all cash. I can wire the money today.” The old voice in my head instantly panicked: “I told you! That piece of garbage Derek! Years ago, he begged to be a live-in husband, but Arthur saw right through him. Now that Arthur is dead, he’s sniffing around the house. What is he planning? Does he know Arthur left a secret stash?” Adrenaline rushed straight to my brain. “I’ll add two hundred thousand!” I yelled. The room fell dead silent. Chloe stared at me like I had grown a second head. Marcus’s jaw practically hit the floor. Derek let out a mocking sneer. “You? You can pull a million dollars out of your pocket?” Marcus looked torn. “Derek, Ethan was here first…” Derek patted his jacket pocket. “I have eight hundred and fifty thousand ready to go on my card right now. I’m just worried the guy who got here first is all talk and no cash.” I clenched my fists. I only had fifty thousand dollars in my savings. The rest would have to be borrowed. But thinking about the gold in the walls and the millions in the ceiling… “I will have the full amount ready within three days. Let’s sign the contract now.” Derek gave me a cold glare. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you sign and can’t produce the cash, you lose your deposit.” Marcus quickly added, “That is the policy, Ethan. Are you sure you don’t want to think it over?” Chloe finally snapped. She grabbed my arm, dragged me out into the hallway, and hissed under her breath: “Ethan, are you out of your mind?! A million dollars for this dump? Where are you going to get a million dollars? Has this agent completely brainwashed you?” Looking at her furious, tear-stained face, my mind raced. Should I tell her the truth? Would she even believe me? “Chloe, please trust me just this once. This house actually has…” “Has what?” Tears finally spilled down Chloe’s cheeks. “We’ve been together for three years, and you can’t even afford a decent apartment. My friends’ husbands all bought them brand-new, luxury places. I didn’t hold that against you, but now you’re forcing me into this disgusting, crumbling dumpster! If you sign that paper, we are done. I mean it!” She turned on her heel and ran down the stairs. When Marcus handed me the pen, my hand was shaking. After signing the papers and stamping my thumbprint, Marcus tucked the contract away, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re a man of action, Ethan! We’ll start the process tomorrow. Just make sure the full payment is wired within three days.” Derek sneered at me on his way out. “You’re willing to ruin your relationship over this trash heap? Did you find something hidden in here?” My chest tightened. The old voice laughed in amusement. “This dog actually has a good nose. Does he suspect there’s gold in the walls…?” I took a step forward, blocking his view, and pointed to the vintage, hand-carved wooden bed in the bedroom. “I won’t lie to you. I bought this place for that bed.” “That’s a rare antique,” I said, pretending to be an expert as I patted the wooden frame. “If it’s authentic, it’s worth more than the entire apartment.” Marcus’s cheek twitched. “Sir… are you serious?” “Anyway, the contract says everything left in the house belongs to me. This bed is mine now. No one touches it.” Derek’s eyes flickered with suspicion. He walked over to inspect the bed, running his fingers over the carvings. His brow furrowed as he looked back at me. I didn’t give him another second to think. I ushered both him and Marcus out of the door. “Alright, I’m heading out. See you tomorrow morning to finalize things.” I rode my bike down two blocks, pulled over by the curb, and called Chloe. On my seventh try, she finally picked up. “Did you sign it?” “Yeah.” After three seconds of silence, she let out a bitter laugh. “Ethan, we are over.” “Chloe, listen to me! Last night I had this crazy dream about my grandfather. He told me that inside the walls of this apartment, there is…” Before I could finish, she hung up on me. I let out a heavy sigh. Fine. If she didn’t believe me now, she would once I dragged the gold out and threw it at her feet.

By 11 PM, unable to sleep, I snuck back into the dark apartment through the fire escape. I clicked on my flashlight and pulled a metal detector out of my backpack. Crouching in front of the thick wall, I pressed the sensor against the plaster. “Beep. Beep. Beep.” My hand trembled. I moved the sensor to different spots. The top of the wall was silent. The middle gave a weak signal. But the lower I went, the sharper and louder the beeping became. I collapsed onto the floor, my back drenched in sweat, a manic grin spreading across my face. There really was something in the wall. I sat in the pitch-black living room, laughing like a lunatic. With this money, I’d never have to work another day in my life. Who cared about a breakup? Once I showed Chloe the money, we could buy ten luxury penthouses. But my smile quickly faded. I had signed a contract for a million dollars. I had to pay it in full within three days. I had fifty thousand. I was still short by nine hundred and fifty thousand. The gold was in the wall, and the cash was in the ceiling. But without the keys and ownership, I couldn’t start demolishing the place. Where the hell was I going to get nearly a million dollars in three days? I stared at my contacts on my phone. I stopped at the name Zach—a high school classmate who now ran a high-interest payday loan business. When the call connected, Zach stayed silent for a few seconds. “Bro, are you getting scammed? That run-down apartment complex is barely worth half a million.” “Just help me out with this. You set the interest rate.” Normally, I would never dare touch hard money lenders, but this was different. In three days, the keys would be mine, and I’d tear that wall down the very same night. With millions of dollars waiting for me, what was a high-interest loan? The day the funds cleared, my dad called me, furious. “Ethan, have you lost your mind?! Zach called and said you took out a massive loan to buy a property? Since when do you flip houses?” “Your mother hasn’t slept a wink! Our family has always lived honestly, step-by-step. You’ve been brainwashed by some slick agent! Cancel the deal and get our money back right now, do you hear me?!” I gripped my phone tightly and said nothing. My dad cursed a few more times before slamming the phone down. Finally, the three-day deadline arrived. I wired the million dollars to Marcus, received the deed and the keys, and immediately changed the locks. I shut the door, pulled the curtains tight, and prepared to dig.

At 6 PM, Chloe showed up. She stood at the doorway, her eyes red and puffy, her voice shaking. “Your dad called me. He said you took out a massive, dangerous loan to buy this trash heap. Ethan, are you mentally unstable?” “Come inside,” I said softly. “Come in, and I’ll show you why.” She hesitated for a few seconds, biting her lip, before stepping inside. I dragged her over to the thick wall, knelt down, and pressed the metal detector to the base. “Beep. Beep. Beep.” Chloe froze. “What is that?” “A metal detector.” I looked up at her. “There’s something inside this wall.” Her mouth fell open. “So… your dream was real?” “Yes,” I lied smoothly. “I had to make sure, so I tested it. There’s definitely something here. I’m breaking it open tonight. If it’s gold, we are getting married tomorrow, buying a penthouse, and leaving all your snobby friends in the dust.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she threw her arms around my neck. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered against my chest. “I found out two days ago. I was going to get an abortion after we broke up…” She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face. “Ethan, please don’t let me down.” “I won’t. Everything changes tonight.” By 9 PM, the neighborhood was completely quiet. I pulled a sledgehammer and a crowbar from my bag. Chloe sat on the dusty sofa, nervously wringing her hands. Before raising the hammer, I looked at the wall and whispered, “Sir, forgive me. Once I get the money, I’ll remodel this place beautifully.” But the old voice didn’t reply. A sudden wave of anxiety hit me. But I quickly brushed it off. The detector had beeped. It couldn’t be a mistake. I swung the hammer with all my might. “SMASH!” A huge chunk of plaster shattered, revealing red bricks underneath. I dropped the hammer and clawed at the bricks with my bare hands, sending debris showering to the floor. The space behind the brick wall was completely hollow. My hands froze in mid-air. “Where’s the gold?” Chloe asked, peering over my shoulder. I didn’t answer. Like a madman, I tore away the remaining bricks. The hole got wider and wider, revealing a completely empty space inside the wall. There was absolutely nothing there. “This is impossible…” My voice trembled violently. Chloe’s hopeful expression drained into a ghostly pale. “Ethan, stop joking. This isn’t funny.” I grabbed the crowbar and began violently smashing the kitchen ceiling. The thin drywall shattered instantly, showering my head and face in thick white dust. I reached my hand inside the gap, feeling around frantically. Nothing but dust. It was completely empty. I collapsed onto the pile of shattered bricks and drywall, my entire body shaking. Chloe stood nearby, covering her mouth as tears seeped through her fingers. “Ethan… where is the gold?” I opened my mouth, but my face was dead white. “Chloe, listen to me…” She snapped. She wiped her tears aggressively. “Ethan, I’m getting the abortion. Have a nice life!” She turned and bolted out of the apartment. I sat alone in the ruins of the living room. The gaping hole in the ceiling stared down at me like a hollow black eye. The room smelled of thick dust and old mold. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was my dad. I answered, only to hear my mother’s hysterical, sobbing voice: “Ethan, come to the hospital right now! Your father had a massive heart attack!” “The doctors said he needs emergency surgery immediately, and we don’t have enough money for the deposit…” The phone slipped from my hand, the screen shattering on the concrete floor. “But the detector beeped… how could there be nothing…” I mumbled to the empty room. I stared blankly at the demolished wall. Just as I was about to sink into complete, numbing despair, that familiar, raspy voice echoed in my head once again. And what it said made my adrenaline surge, freezing me in place.

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After finding out that Austin gave Chloe a $300,000 pre-wedding gift, Brooke insisted on coming home with me to attend their wedding. In my past life, I didn’t think much of it and brought her along. But the next morning, Brooke ended up naked in Austin’s wedding bed, screaming that Austin had assaulted her. Chloe, who was five months pregnant at the time, was so traumatized that she miscarried on the spot. Austin couldn’t clear his name. He fell into a deep depression and passed away within two years. Brooke, however, used that “accident” to blackmail my parents into accepting her as their daughter-in-law. She moved into the master bedroom that Chloe had lovingly decorated and pocketed the $300,000 that was meant for Chloe. Years later, she looked at me with a smug smile and said: “Maya, the best thing I ever did in my life was going back to your hometown with you.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day Brooke asked to join me. Brooke poked her head out from the next cubicle, her eyes glittering with anticipation. “Maya, I heard that attending weddings brings good luck. My big project is signing next month. Just to be safe, can I come home with you to get some of that good energy?” I swallowed hard, pushing my office chair back with a loud scrape. “I’m so sorry, Brooke. I actually just got a text. Austin called off the wedding.”

The light in Brooke’s eyes instantly vanished. “Called off?!” Her voice went up an octave. Several colleagues nearby turned to look at us. Realizing she had lost her composure, she quickly lowered her voice, squeezing out a worried expression. “Why would they suddenly call it off?” “Is Chloe feeling unwell?” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, and nodded. “Yeah, she’s pregnant.” “Austin doesn’t want her to get too tired. They’re just going to sign the papers at the courthouse first. The big party will be later.” Brooke’s eyes flickered, but she quickly put on a sweet smile. “I mean, that makes sense.” “They’re legally married anyway, and she already got the $300,000 wedding gift.” She paused, then asked as if it were just a casual thought: “By the way, Maya, did Austin really give Chloe $300,000?” I looked up at her. She immediately waved her hands. “Don’t get me wrong! I just think Chloe is incredibly lucky.” “Most guys these days complain about spending even thirty grand, but Austin casually gave her three hundred grand.” “Any girl would be blessed to marry a guy like that.” She smiled sweetly. But all I felt was a freezing chill running down my spine. In my past life, she did the exact same thing. First, she praised Austin. Then, she talked about how lucky Chloe was. In the end, she destroyed our family and moved into Chloe’s house. I forced a weak smile. “So, there is no wedding party. You don’t need to come.” The smile on Brooke’s face faded. She lowered her head, nervously playing with the corner of her folder. “It’s fine. I was being too pushy.” “I was just thinking about my big deal next month.” “The client is super superstitious about luck.” “My mom even paid a psychic who said I have a bad aura this year. She said I need to attend a close friend’s wedding to cleanse my bad luck.” “But if it’s inconvenient, forget I asked.” She forced another smile, but her eyes were red, brimming with tears. In my past life, I was fooled by this exact act. I agreed to take her home, which triggered the downfall of my entire family. Seeing her fake tears now only made me sick to my stomach. I rolled my eyes mentally, not wanting to deal with her. But just as I turned to leave, our boss, Vance, walked out of his office. “What project?” Vance frowned as he walked toward us. “Brooke, which project were you talking about?” Brooke looked startled. Her eyes grew redder as she sniffled. “It’s the deal with Mr. Zhang… our team has been working on it for six months…” “I knew he cares about good vibes, so I wanted to attend a wedding to bring some luck to the project… but Maya…” Brooke stopped halfway. Vance, not knowing the truth, immediately turned on me. “Maya, we’re all a team here. Look at Brooke, she’s putting the company first. And you? You won’t even let a coworker tag along to a wedding.” “I’m making the executive decision. You’re taking Brooke with you. The travel expenses will be covered by the company. Just submit the receipt to HR.” Other colleagues immediately chimed in. “Yeah, Maya, it’s just adding an extra plate at the dinner table.” “It’s not like your family has to adopt her.” “If this deal falls through, our team bonuses are gone.” “Don’t be so selfish, Maya.” I tried to explain that Austin wasn’t hosting a ceremony. Brooke’s eyes welled up even more. She whispered: “It’s okay.” “If a wedding is inconvenient, just a casual dinner with the couple is fine.” “I just want some peace of mind.” I was speechless. The colleagues grew bolder, throwing sarcastic remarks at me. Vance even threatened that if the project failed, I would be held fully responsible. Sitting at my desk, I felt suffocated. Brooke was still pretending to cry, but the corners of her mouth twitching upward gave away her triumph. Looking at their faces, I took a deep breath. “Fine. I agree.” “Brooke can come with me.” Vance immediately beamed, patting my shoulder. “That’s more like it! A wedding is about sharing joy, not bad luck. What’s there to be afraid of?” He then turned to Brooke. “Make sure to expense the trip. Clearing bad luck is important. Don’t be cheap about it.” Brooke smiled brightly. “Don’t worry, Boss. I won’t let the team down.” “Wait, I’m not finished yet.” I interrupted them, pulling up a destination wedding ad on my phone, and smiled. “Austin just decided to do a destination elopement. Brooke, you’re welcome to join, but the bride and groom won’t be there. That’s not a problem, right?”

I purposely emphasized the words “the bride and groom won’t be there.” Brooke panicked, grabbing my sleeve. “How does that work? A wedding without the bride and groom isn’t a wedding!” “If Austin isn’t there, how am I supposed to—” She cut herself off. I looked at her, a cold smile on my lips. “Why did you stop? How are you supposed to what?” Brooke’s eyes darted around. She quickly took my hand, acting like the victim again. “Look, I don’t want to make things hard for you.” “The psychic said as long as I can have a meal with the couple, the bad luck will be cleared.” “Maya, we’ve been colleagues for so long. Just help me out this once, okay?” She looked like she was about to cry again. Vance and the others began to frown at me. I laughed. “Fine. I’ll help you out.” Once we arrived in my hometown, I took her straight to a hotel and booked a private dining room. Brooke was stunned. “Aren’t we going to your house?” I shook my head and asked back: “Didn’t you say you just wanted a meal? Austin and Chloe will be here soon.” “Or did you only want Austin to show up?” Brooke’s face flushed with awkwardness. “What… what are you talking about?” A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. “Why would I care about Austin…” I watched her, holding back my disgust, and pushed her into the room. “Great. You’ll have dinner with the couple, and my job is done.” As soon as dinner was over, I would buy her a ticket straight back. I wanted to see how she could trap Austin this time. After ordering, I made an excuse to get some fresh air and blocked Austin and Chloe at the hotel entrance. “When we have dinner with my colleague in a minute, don’t say a word to her. And do not get close to her. Got it, Austin?” Austin looked at me with pure confusion, scratching his head. “Huh? Why?” “Don’t ask questions. Just do as I say.” I then took Chloe’s hand. “No matter what happens tonight, you must stay with Austin. Understood, Chloe?” Chloe’s face flushed red instantly. “Maya, it’s broad daylight. Why are you saying things like that…” “I’m not joking.” I stared into Chloe’s eyes, speaking slowly and seriously. “Listen to me. Tonight, you must stay by Austin’s side. Do not leave him for a single second.” “I’ll explain everything later. Just trust me on this.” Seeing how serious I was, Chloe’s embarrassment faded, replaced by a solemn nod. “Okay. I trust you.” Seeing them agree, I finally let out a sigh of relief and led them into the private room. During the entire dinner, Brooke acted exactly as expected, constantly trying to get close to Austin. She gestured for him to sit next to her. I cleared my throat, and Austin immediately took the seat furthest away from her. She tried to put food on his plate. Chloe frowned, and Austin immediately swapped his entire plate and bowl for clean ones. Then, Brooke brought up the $300,000 wedding gift, her voice dripping with envy. “Chloe, you’re so lucky. Austin is so sweet and generous. He didn’t even mind that you got pregnant before the wedding.” “Unlike me. I’m very traditional. I’ve never even held a guy’s hand…” Chloe was stunned. She turned to me, mouthing the words: “No wonder you told me to watch out for her.” I forced a bitter smile. Remembering how Chloe had miscarried from shock in my past life, my nose stung, and tears threatened to fall. As soon as dinner ended, Austin and Chloe practically ran out of the restaurant as if they were being chased. I immediately booked a train ticket for Brooke and personally escorted her to the station. Only when her figure disappeared into the crowd and the train pulled away did I finally breathe a sigh of relief. This time, things had to be different. Right? I didn’t dare go home that night. I ended up dozing off on a bench in the station waiting room. At 8:00 AM the next morning, my phone rang frantically, jolting me awake. “Maya, Austin is in trouble!”

My mother’s voice felt like a knife stabbing into my brain. I snapped awake and bolted toward the house like a madwoman. When I arrived, the front yard was already packed with people. Our relatives, Chloe’s family, and nosy neighbors—dozens of people were crowding around, whispering and shouting. Some were gossiping in hushed tones, some were crying, and others threw complicated, pitiful looks at me. I pushed my way through the crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs, a loud buzzing in my ears. Inside Austin and Chloe’s bedroom, Brooke was lying in the middle of the bed completely naked, clutching the blanket to her chest as she cried. Austin stood by the side of the bed. He was still wearing the pajamas Chloe had bought him, his face deathly pale. Chloe stood nearby, holding her pregnant belly, her eyes red and swollen. She was clearly still in shock. Seeing me, Austin’s eyes welled with tears, and he rushed over. “Maya! Maya, please explain to them! I didn’t do anything… I swear I was sleeping next to Chloe last night… I don’t even know how this girl got here…” Brooke screamed: “You’re lying! You texted me last night saying Maya left something for me and told me to come get it! When I got here, you… you did this to me! If you don’t believe me, look at this!” She pulled down the blanket to reveal a sharp bite mark on her shoulder. Austin’s voice went hoarse from screaming. “I didn’t do that!” “Then who did?” Brooke looked up, her eyes as red as a rabbit’s. “Could I bite myself on the shoulder?” The crowd erupted into whispers. Some gasped, some pulled out their phones to record, and others started shouting insults. “The poor girl is crying like that, and you’re still lying!” “His fiancée is five months pregnant, and he does this? He’s going to hell!” Chloe’s family looked furious. “You piece of trash!” Chloe’s dad, Mr. Davis, punched Austin in the face, his eyes wild with rage. “This is my daughter’s wedding house! How could you… how could you…” His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the floor. “Dad!” Chloe screamed, grabbing her stomach as large beads of sweat rolled down her face. “My stomach… it hurts so bad…” My parents panicked. My mom held Chloe, crying hysterically. “How did this happen…” My dad tried to help Mr. Davis up, but Chloe’s relatives shoved him away. He crashed into the wooden table, groaning in pain. But he didn’t dare complain. He just kept bowing and apologizing. My dad, who had lived a dignified life, was now bending his spine, wishing he could bury his head in the concrete. Austin’s voice was completely hoarse. His palms were bleeding from clenching his fists so hard as he pleaded: “I really didn’t touch her…” Brooke cried even louder, a look of desperate resolve on her face, acting like a victim with nothing left to lose. “Fine! Since you won’t admit it, call the police! Let them handle it!” “I’ll make sure you rot in jail…” She reached for her phone, and the crowd started murmuring again. “If they call the cops, how many years will he get?” “His life is completely ruined.” “Well, he brought it on himself. It’s sexual assault. Who knew he was such a monster?” The comments kept coming. The light in Austin’s eyes slowly died, replaced by a hollow, lifeless stare. He knew that no matter how much he explained, nobody would believe him. My mom bit her lip until it bled, almost falling to her knees. “Please don’t call the police… please…” My dad seemed to age ten years in an instant. Watching this scene play out, my mind spun. How? I had sent Brooke away. Why was this still happening? Why wouldn’t she leave our family alone? I slowly turned my gaze to Brooke. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes, though she quickly masked it with a look of fake martyrdom. “If you don’t want me to call the police, there is another way. He has to marry me. And I want the same $300,000 wedding gift. My reputation is ruined anyway, who else would marry me now…” “No way!” Austin roared, his eyes bloodshot. “Then I’m calling the cops. You will pay for what you did,” Brooke sobbed. My parents’ shoulders slumped even further. The room fell into a tense, suffocating silence. At that moment, I finally spoke. “Fine. We agree.” Brooke’s face lit up with joy. “You agree to let him marry me?” I shook my head, my voice so calm it made everyone think I had lost my mind. “No. We agree to call the police.” “Maya!” My mom shrieked, looking at me in disbelief. I grabbed her hand, keeping my grip firm and steady. “Mom, trust me.”

Hearing that I wanted to call the police, Brooke’s body trembled. Not out of fear, but excitement. It was as if everything was going exactly according to her plan. In my past life, Brooke did call the police. With the scene, the physical evidence, and the “witnesses” all pointing to Austin, he was arrested on the spot. The lawyer said he was looking at at least twelve years. My parents couldn’t take the shock. Their hair turned white overnight. In the end, they had to beg Brooke for mercy and accept her as their daughter-in-law. Remembering my past life, I clenched my fists so tight my nails cut into my palms, but I couldn’t feel the pain. Ignoring my parents’ begging looks, I called the police. Ten minutes later, two officers arrived. “Move aside. What’s going on here?” The officers pushed through the crowd and entered the room. “Who called?” Before I could speak, Brooke burst into loud, dramatic sobs. “Officer! You have to help me! I was assaulted…” She loosened her grip on the blanket, deliberately showing the bite mark on her shoulder, crying hysterically. If I didn’t have the memories of my past life, even I would have been fooled by her acting. My dad closed his eyes, unable to watch. My mom’s hand was shaking in mine. The officer walked over, examined the bite mark on Brooke’s shoulder, and then looked at Austin. “Do you have anything to say?” Austin’s face was pale, his voice cracked. “I didn’t touch her. I was sleeping with my fiancée last night. She got up to use the restroom in the middle of the night, and when I woke up, this woman was next to me.” “I swear, I didn’t touch her!” Chloe had recovered slightly and spoke up weakly: “He’s telling the truth. I went to the bathroom last night, but when I came back, the bedroom door was locked.” “I didn’t have my phone on me… and I didn’t want to make a scene, so I just slept in the guest room. I had no idea this would happen…” Chloe closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. The officer frowned. “So, you don’t have an alibi for the rest of the night?” Austin’s face went completely white. The officer turned to the crowd. “Did anyone else see anything?” The crowd exchanged looks. Suddenly, our next-door neighbor, Mr. Miller, spoke up. “Last night… I saw Austin pulling a woman into the yard…” “The girl looked like she was resisting… and she wasn’t pregnant… Now that I think about it… it must have been her.” Mr. Miller pointed at Brooke. “You’re lying!” Austin roared. “I didn’t see anyone last night! I was asleep in my bed! You’re making this up!” “Why would I lie?” Mr. Miller crossed his arms, sounding self-righteous. “It’s not my reputation on the line. Why would I lie to the police?” “Do you think everyone is like you, cheating on their pregnant fiancée? Disgusting!” With that statement, the case seemed clear. The officer looked at Austin with disgust, then turned to Brooke, his tone softening with pity. “What do you want to do, ma’am?” Brooke looked up, her tear-filled eyes looking incredibly fragile. “It’s simple. Everyone saw what happened. My dignity is gone. If Austin doesn’t marry me, I don’t want to live anymore.” “So, either he marries me and I drop the charges, or… I’ll press charges and send him to jail. I’ve never even been married before…” Austin clenched his teeth so hard they nearly shattered. “In your dreams!” My mom dropped to her knees. “Please, spare my son…” Brooke ignored her, continuing to sob quietly. The officer sighed and pulled out his handcuffs. “Alright, Austin. You’re coming with us…” “Wait!” I stepped forward, blocking the police from Austin. “Brooke, let me ask you one more time. Are you absolutely sure my brother assaulted you?” Brooke didn’t understand why I was asking, but she answered with firm conviction: “Of course! I barely even knew Austin before this. If he didn’t force me, why would I risk my own reputation to make this up?” Good. Very good. I smiled, wiping away the tears that had been falling since I entered the room. Pointing at the stuffed bunny on top of the wardrobe, I said loudly: “Everyone! The moment I got back yesterday, I placed a hidden spy camera inside that stuffed bunny.” “Whether Austin brought a woman in last night, or whether he touched Brooke, it was all captured on video!”

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Ten minutes ago, I was joking with my friend about how my wife had been complaining about a sore back lately. I even told him I was going to sign her up for some high-end private training sessions. But the next second, I spotted her white coupe parked outside a private one-on-one fitness studio. Suppressing my rising doubts, I walked up to the front desk and gave her name and phone number. “Could you check if Olivia has an appointment today?” The receptionist looked up, her eyes darting away as she forced a polite, professional smile. “I’m sorry, sir. We cannot disclose client information.” I stood frozen. A chill ran down my spine. Cannot disclose? That meant she was definitely here. Mark stared at the white coupe in confusion. “Wait, didn’t Olivia say she was out of town on a business trip? What is her car doing here?” Exactly. She supposedly flew out last night and said she wouldn’t be back until this evening to celebrate my birthday. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. No answer. I checked the time: 11:30 AM. “Forget it, let’s just go up,” I said. This high-end private gym was located in the most expensive commercial district in the city. They specialized in one-on-one personal training, physical therapy, and premium athletic conditioning. My lower back had been acting up lately, so Mark had planned to drag me here on my birthday to check out their rehab programs. The elevator doors slid open, and the receptionist greeted us with a polished smile. “Welcome, gentlemen. Do you have an appointment?” “Yes, under Mark—” “No,” I interrupted, gently pulling Mark behind me. “My wife booked it. Olivia Clarkson.” The receptionist hesitated, glancing down at her screen. Then, she looked back up. “I’m sorry, sir. Due to client privacy policies, I can’t confirm any appointment details with you.” My chest tightened.

Mark glanced at me, immediately catching on. A woman who claimed to be out of town suddenly showing up at a high-end private gym? She wasn’t here just to work on her glutes. I took a deep breath and looked at the young woman behind the desk. “Here’s the thing. My wife mentioned she wanted to look into a rehab program for me and told me to come by today to add my name to her family plan.” “My back is really killing me right now. Can I just go sit in the lounge for a bit?” The receptionist’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m sorry, sir. Without an appointment confirmation, we can’t let you into the member area.” I nodded. “I understand. Could you do me a favor and call her to confirm?” “Just tell her James is at the front desk and ask if she could come out and get me.” The receptionist hesitated for a second. “James?” “Yes. My wife’s name is Olivia.” She typed the name into her system, found the file, and picked up the intercom. My heart leaped into my throat. “Hi, Olivia. This is the front desk.” “A gentleman named James is here. He says he’s here to complete the family registration for the program you inquired about.” “Could you come out to receive him?” There was a long pause on the other end. “Who did you say?” The receptionist turned back to me. “Sir, what’s your full name?” “James Clarkson.” “Got it.” She spoke back into the receiver. “A Mr. James Clarkson is at the front desk. Is it convenient for you to come out?” One second. Two seconds. Just when I thought she had hung up, a voice finally came through. “I’ll be right out.” The call ended. The receptionist smiled professionally. “Mr. Clarkson, you can wait in the lounge.” She was indeed here. But right now, I only knew she was at this gym. I had no idea who she was with. The receptionist wouldn’t tell me. Privacy. Isn’t it ironic? The rules protected her privacy while she was with another man, but didn’t give the betrayed spouse a single warning. My phone lit up. It was Olivia calling. I stared at her name on the screen and hit decline. A second later, a text popped up on SnapChat. “James, my company suddenly arranged a quick meeting near here. Why don’t you and Mark look around? I’ll be down in a minute.” “What did she say?” Mark asked. I turned the screen toward him. He read it, a curse escaping his lips. “Are you kidding me? How can she be so shameless?” He stared at me, looking angrier than I was. “But we still don’t know who she’s with.” I looked at the warm, elegant lighting of the studio and the neat rows of brochures. I took a deep breath. “Who said I was going to ask her right now?” “Then what are you—” “We wait for her.”

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On the day my grandmother Nana was in critical condition, Scott accompanied me back to my small hometown. For a second, I thought he had finally decided to put me first. But at the hospital’s billing counter, he left his phone in my hand when he went to use the restroom. The screen lit up. It was a group chat notification from his friends. “Scott, are you seriously at the hospital with Elly right now?” “Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out you only agreed to marry her because Aurora refused to see you?” “What’s there to fear? Elly is so easy to handle. A few sweet words and she’ll believe anything.” “Seriously, though. If Aurora comes back, are you still going to marry Elly?” Scott replied two minutes later: “Stop asking stupid questions. If Aurora comes back, this wedding is off.” I stood in front of the payment window, my hands trembling so hard I couldn’t even insert my credit card into the slot. Catherine walked up just then to drop off some food. She caught a glimpse of the screen and let out a sharp laugh. “Well, Elly. It turns out you’re nothing but a placeholder bride, huh?” “And here you are, telling Nana every day how good he is to you. Hilarious. If Nana heard this, she’d jump right out of her hospital bed.” Late that night, as I sat on the bench outside the ICU, I quietly canceled my bridal photoshoot reservation with Scott. Then, I opened my laptop. I took my pending transfer request to Chicago—the one I had submitted just to be closer to him—and changed it to an application for International Medical Relief.

When Scott returned from the billing department, he held a cup of iced coffee. He popped the straw in and handed it to me, his voice soft and gentle. “Drink something first, Elly. The private nurse is watching Nana.” I stared at the coffee cup but didn’t reach for it. In the past, I would have fallen for this gesture instantly. When he was two hours late for our dates, I would make excuses for him. When he refused to make our relationship public, I would tell myself he was just a private person. Only today did I realize it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to love. He just didn’t love me. Seeing me frozen, Scott reached out to brush my hair back. I stepped half a foot away, leaving his hand hanging in the cold air. Catherine stood nearby, watching the drama unfold with a smug smirk. “Come on, Elly. You’re not seriously going to throw a tantrum over some silly guys’ group chat, are you?” “Guys talk big before marriage. You should be throwing a party that you’re even marrying into the Franklin family.” “Did you honestly expect him to treat you like a worshiped goddess?” My face darkened. “Catherine, Nana is still in there.” Catherine shrugged. “I’m just speaking the truth. So what if he has someone else in his heart? He’s still marrying you in the end, isn’t he?” I looked up, my eyes cold. “Shut up.” Catherine gasped, startled, and then rolled her eyes. “The date is set, invitations are sent out. Who are you putting on this show for?” Scott finally sensed something was off. He looked at me, his brow furrowing. “Elly, did you look at my phone?” I handed the device back to him. “Yes, I did.” Scott put the phone in his pocket. I expected him to get angry at me for invading his privacy. Instead, he avoided my gaze, nervously tapping on his Apple Watch to check the group chat. Sometimes I hated having such perfect eyesight. I saw the new message pop up on his wrist: “Aurora just landed in Chicago. Scott, you going to pick her up?” The next second, he tapped a quick reply on his watch. “Stop texting. Don’t let Aurora see this.” A quiet laugh escaped my lips. So, it didn’t matter what I saw. What mattered was that Aurora didn’t see. Hearing my laugh, Scott looked up, a flash of panic crossing his face. “Elly, they were just joking.” “Were the things you said a joke, too?” Scott fell silent. That silence was louder than any confession. Catherine scoffed from the side. “Elly, that’s enough.” “Nana is holding on just to see you get married. If you call off the wedding now, aren’t you afraid you’ll literally kill her?” Slap! A sharp crack echoed through the quiet hallway. Catherine clutched her burning cheek, staring at me in absolute disbelief. “Elly! Are you out of your mind?” I looked at her, my voice dead calm. “Make one more joke about Nana, and I’ll have security drag you out of this hospital.” Catherine’s eyes welled with tears as she turned to Scott for support. But Scott didn’t say a word to defend her. Ignoring them both, I turned and walked into the ICU. Nana hadn’t woken up yet. The oxygen mask covered her face, her breathing so shallow it felt like it could slip away at any second. I sat by her bedside and took her frail, thin hand. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a notification from the hospital’s HR portal. 【Your application for International Medical Relief has been submitted. It cannot be withdrawn once approved.】 I tapped “Confirm.” On the bed, Nana’s fingers twitched slightly. I leaned down, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, and whispered: “Nana… I think I need to go somewhere far away.” This time, I was done waiting for someone to choose me.

Nana woke up briefly the next morning. The first thing she did was look for Scott. “Where is Scott?” Scott was in the hallway taking a business call, but when he heard the nurse call him, he hung up immediately and rushed in. He leaned down and held Nana’s hand, his tone perfectly warm and attentive. “I’m here, Nana.” Nana offered a weak, tired smile. “Good. Now I can rest easy.” “Elly has always been too soft. She keeps all her pain to herself. You have to protect her for me from now on.” Scott’s eyes reddened. “I will, Nana. I promise.” As he spoke, his Apple Watch lit up again. It was a text from Aurora: 【I’m back in Chicago. I heard you’re out of town… Is it because of her?】 Scott glanced down. That single glance was enough to shatter what little hope I had left. A few seconds later, he tapped a quick reply: 【No. My fiancée’s grandmother is in critical condition. I can’t leave right now.】 I looked down, the sharp scent of antiseptic stinging my throat. Nana didn’t see any of this. She was still smiling, her voice raspy and faint. “My Elly finally has a home…” I squeezed her hand, not daring to make a sound. The doctor called me into his office shortly after, telling me Nana’s organs were failing and that I should prepare for the worst. When I walked out, Scott was standing by the stairwell, on the phone. “Aurora, don’t overthink it. I really can’t leave right now.” I couldn’t hear what she said on the other end. After a brief silence, his voice dropped to a whisper. “We can talk about the wedding details later. You just got back, just focus on resting.” My footsteps paused at the doorway. Scott turned and saw me, his expression tightening. “Elly.” I walked right past him. He chased after me, grabbing my wrist. “Let me explain.” “Explain what?” I turned to look at him. “Explain that you didn’t stay here for me? Or explain why the wedding can be discussed ‘later’?” Scott pressed his lips together. He was rarely cornered by me like this. I used to be so understanding—so eager to please that if he even frowned, I would be the first to apologize. Catherine, returning with breakfast, immediately shoved herself into the conversation. “Elly, Nana is literally dying in there. Can’t you be a little mature? Do you have to pick a fight right now?” I looked at her. “By ‘mature,’ you mean I should just pretend to be blind?” “So what if a guy has an ex in his mind? Isn’t that normal?” She rolled her eyes. “If you actually had what it takes, you’d make him forget her. If you can’t, accept your place and stop playing the victim.” Scott frowned. “Catherine, shut up.” In the afternoon, Aurora actually showed up. Holding a bouquet of fresh lilies, she stood near the nurse’s station, looking so pristine and out of place in this drab hospital. When Scott saw her, he froze. Aurora looked at me first, a polite, faint smile on her face. “Hi, Elly. I heard your grandmother was ill, so I thought I’d stop by and pay my respects.” I turned my gaze to Scott. “You told her?” Aurora quickly spoke up for him. “Don’t misunderstand, Elly. Someone mentioned it in our mutual friend group.” She turned back to Scott. “Scott used to hate hospitals more than anything. I didn’t expect him to stay here overnight for you.” Those words felt like a slap to my face. I was the one who had been sleeplessly guarding Nana. Yet, the moment Aurora arrived, everyone assumed Scott was the one making the grand sacrifice. Scott said quietly, “Aurora, you should leave.” Aurora’s eyelashes fluttered, looking hurt. “Scott… am I bothering you? Should I not have come?” Scott’s tone instantly softened. “No, that’s not what I meant.” I couldn’t stand to watch them anymore. As I turned to walk away, Catherine whispered in my ear: “See that? They actually look like a couple. You’re just a placeholder trying to force your way into a frame you don’t fit in.” I didn’t look back. That night, my phone buzzed with a refund notification from the bridal shop. A moment later, the coordinator sent a follow-up text: 【Hi Elly, sorry to bother you, but are you sure you want to cancel? 】 【Scott originally booked this exact theme for Aurora a couple of years ago before they canceled. We thought he was finally getting to use it.】 I stared at the screen, my heart sinking into a cold, dark abyss. So, even the wedding theme wasn’t chosen for me. I was just filling a slot that Aurora had abandoned.

Nana passed away in the early hours of the third day. Before she went, she had a brief moment of absolute clarity. Only Scott and I were in the room. She weakly reached out, taking my hand and pulling Scott’s hand over to rest on top of mine. “Scott… Elly is a good girl, but she keeps everything inside.” “Please don’t make her carry things alone anymore.” Scott’s eyes filled with tears. “I won’t, Nana. I promise.” Nana then looked at me, her voice barely a whisper. “Elly, don’t be afraid… Even when I’m gone, you have to live a good life.” The tears I had been holding back finally poured down my cheeks. She passed away peacefully. Scott reached out to hug me, but I instinctively pulled away. His arms hung in the air for a second before slowly dropping to his sides. The funeral was arranged in a rush. My parents flew in from out of town. Their first question wasn’t whether Nana suffered at the end. Instead, they dragged me into a corner of the chapel. My mom whispered urgently, “When is the Franklin family wire transferring the wedding fund? Your father’s business is in a really tight spot right now.” I stared at her. “Nana just died.” Her expression soured. “I know you’re grieving, Elly, but the living still have bills to pay.” “Once you marry into the Franklins, our family will finally be secure.” Catherine, scrolling on her phone nearby, let out a chuckle. “Mom, stop pushing her. Elly is too busy throwing a tantrum at Scott right now.” My dad frowned. “The wedding date is set. All our relatives know. Don’t embarrass us at a time like this.” An overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me. They weren’t worried about my happiness. They were worried about losing face if I called off the wedding. And, of course, they were terrified of losing their cash cow. At the church, Scott played the part of the perfect, grieving future grandson-in-law, looking even more solemn than my dad. The relatives praised him, whispering about how lucky I was and how Nana had chosen well. On the last day of the funeral services, Aurora showed up again. Scott was stunned when he saw her. “Why are you here?” Aurora said softly, “I wanted to pay my respects to her. Please don’t be mad at me for showing up uninvited, Scott.” The surrounding relatives immediately began to whisper and stare. Catherine leaned in close, mocking me. “Wow, Elly. Even his first love showed up. You sure have a lot of influence as the fiancée.” Aurora walked up to me, her eyes filled with a perfectly practiced look of sympathy. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Elly.” She glanced at Scott. “Scott must be exhausted from these past few days. Try not to make things too hard on him.” I looked at her and suddenly found myself smiling. “Aurora, do you even know whose funeral this is?” She blinked, taken aback. I said, “My grandmother is the one lying in that casket. Not Scott.” Her face went pale. Scott instinctively stepped in front of her. “Elly, Aurora is just trying to be nice.” I turned my eyes to him. “So, her telling me not to make things hard on you is her being ‘nice’?” Scott choked on his words. Aurora’s eyes pooled with tears, looking as though she was the one being bullied. “I really didn’t mean it that way…” I didn’t bother responding. Arguing with them here would only turn Nana’s final send-off into a trashy soap opera. On the drive back to Chicago, Scott insisted on driving me. The silence in the car was suffocating. Finally, he spoke. “We can postpone the wedding. We’ll do it whenever you feel ready.” I stared out the window. “I never said I wanted to do it at all.” The car abruptly screeched to a halt by the curb. Scott’s face was incredibly dark. “Elly, don’t say things you don’t mean just because you’re angry.” “Nana just passed away. I don’t want to fight with you.” “I am completely sober and rational, Scott. Let’s call off the wedding.” He stared at me as if I had lost my mind. “Just because of a group chat?” “It’s not just that.” I looked at him and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Scott, I didn’t just decide to leave you out of the blue.” “I’ve just finally accepted the fact that you never truly wanted me in the first place.” I pushed the car door open and stepped out. He jumped out of the car and grabbed my arm. “Elly! Where do you think you’re going?” I peeled his fingers off my arm, one by one. “Anywhere is better than sitting next to you.” That night, Scott called me over a dozen times. I didn’t answer a single one. Finally, one last text lit up my screen. 【Marriage isn’t a game, Elly. We will talk when you’ve calmed down.】 I stared at it for a long moment before replying with my final text: 【There is nothing left to talk about.】 Then, I put his number on Do Not Disturb.

Even after we got back to Chicago, Scott didn’t cancel the wedding preparations. When his mother, Paula, called me, her voice was cold but wrapped in polite condescension. “Elly, Scott told me you’ve been stressed lately.” “We understand you’re grieving, but a wedding is a family merger. It’s not just about you.” I asked quietly: “If Aurora agreed to marry Scott today, would you still want me to walk through your doors, Paula?” The line went dead silent for a moment before Paula’s voice sharpened. “Elly, watch your mouth.” I laughed softly. “Does the truth hurt that much?” Paula clearly didn’t expect me to talk back. Her polite facade shattered completely. “Do you seriously think Scott can’t find anyone else?” “Let me tell you something. The only reason the Franklin family accepted you is because you were quiet and obedient.” “If you keep acting up like this, you’re the only one who’s going to end up embarrassed.” “Then let’s be embarrassed together.” I hung up. That night, I packed all my documents into a folder. My ID, my medical license, my physical exam reports—everything was ready. My colleague, Cole, walked past my desk and stopped when he saw the paperwork. “Are you really going through with the International Medical Relief deployment?” Cole was an ER attending. He was two years older than me, a man of few words but incredibly steady and reliable. I nodded. “The roster is being finalized.” He frowned slightly. “The conditions out there are much harsher than you think.” “I know. But staying here is worse.” Cole didn’t try to change my mind. Instead, he reached into his white coat, pulled out a box of cold medicine, and placed it on my desk. “Supplies are limited over there. Getting sick is a nightmare. Keep this with you.” I blinked, surprised. “Thank you, Dr. Cole.” He looked at me. “Don’t be so formal.” Once the official deployment list was posted, the hospital arranged for us to leave for pre-deployment training immediately. I didn’t tell a soul. On the morning of my departure, the sky was a dusty gray. As I rolled my suitcase into O’Hare Airport, a text from Scott popped up. 【I rescheduled the bridal shoot. You can choose whatever style you want this time. I’ll listen to you.】 I shut off my screen and didn’t reply. As the plane lifted off, I took one last look at the Chicago skyline below. This city held too many of my humiliations, and the ghost of a man I once thought I’d spend forever with. Now, it was all left beneath the clouds. The day after I left, Scott went to the hospital to find me. His car was parked by the curb, the backseat filled with new bridal catalogs. Sensing my usual delay, he finally lost his patience and called my phone. Still, no answer. Frowning, he walked into the ER lobby and stopped at the front desk. “Hi, could you page Elly from the ER? I’m here to pick her up for a wedding appointment.” The nurse blinked. “Dr. Elly?” “Yes, her.” Scott’s tone was casual, as if speaking of something entirely routine. “She’s throwing a bit of a tantrum and isn’t picking up her phone. Just tell her I’m waiting downstairs.” The nurse’s expression turned incredibly strange. A younger resident doctor nearby looked up at him. “Who are you to Dr. Elly?” Scott’s brow furrowed. “I’m her fiancé.” The resident fell silent for a few seconds before speaking in a low voice. “You don’t know? Dr. Elly is gone.” Scott froze. “What do you mean, gone?” “The International Medical Relief team left yesterday. She was in the first wave of volunteers.” It felt like the air was instantly sucked out of the room. The bridal catalogs in Scott’s hand slipped, clattering loudly onto the polished floor. But he didn’t even notice. After a long pause, his throat tightened, his voice cracking. “What did you just say?”

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Marcus has face blindness. We’ve been married for eight years, yet he can still mistake another woman for his wife when we’re walking through a shopping mall. To help him with his condition, I signed him up for specialized visual training and tried to take him to his therapy sessions. But today, I caught him on TikTok, showering a fashion influencer with expensive virtual gifts. I smiled and asked him casually, “Since when did you start watching this kind of stuff?” Because of his face blindness, he always used to say everyone in short videos looked exactly the same to him. He found it boring. A few years ago, I suggested he download TikTok so we could post vlogs of our married life together. He rejected the idea instantly. He said if his clients saw it, they would laugh at him for being childish. Marcus leaned back against the sofa, guiltily rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s nothing. It just popped up on my feed, so I took a look.” After saying that, he lowered his head again, his eyes glued to the screen, feverishly sending more gifts to the female streamer. I clutched his medical files tightly in my hand. I stared at the “No. 1 Fan” badge next to his username on the screen, and then looked at the woman with big, bouncy curls showing off her glamorous outfit. For a moment, I was completely dazed. It wasn’t until that night, while searching through Marcus’s study, that I found a sketchpad. The heavy sketchbook was filled from cover to cover with detailed, exquisite drawings of that same female streamer. Every single page had a note written on it: Scarlett today. Underneath the sketchbook lay nine hundred and ninety-nine movie ticket stubs—all for movies watched with the exact same person. At that moment, the cold truth finally hit me. He didn’t have face blindness at all. He just never bothered to remember my face.

The blood in my veins turned to ice, and a loud buzzing rang in my ears. My hands shook violently as I turned the pages of the sketchbook. Scarlett’s smiles and expressions were captured in those drawings with absolute devotion and care. Marcus’s medical records slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. Those pages were covered with my messy handwriting, detailing his symptoms, his therapy plans, and daily things he needed to watch out for. I had spent a whole month attending medical seminars and observing him every single day, taking endless notes just so his “face blindness” would get better. But looking at the sketchbook in my hands, I realized how incredibly stupid and pathetic I was. With a shaking hand, I picked up the medical records and tore them into shreds. Guided by my memory, my trembling fingers typed Scarlett’s username into the search bar. Aside from her fashion videos, her account was packed with photos of her and Marcus! In the videos, Marcus happily posed and cooperated with Scarlett. Was this really the same Marcus who told me that taking photos was childish? Scarlett had recently posted a picture showing off matching couple rings on their ring fingers. There were comments from her followers underneath. “Such a handsome couple! Scarlett and her boyfriend are so sweet together!” I remembered last year when I noticed Marcus had stopped wearing his wedding band. I had asked him about it back then. He told me it was uncomfortable to wear while working. My eyes welled with tears as I kept scrolling down. There were over a thousand videos, dating from three years ago to the present day. Marcus’s face appeared in almost every single one of them. So, they had been sleeping together since three years ago! I clicked on one specific video. In it, Scarlett was lying on a hospital bed, her sweet, pampered voice echoing from the phone speaker. “Great news, everyone! Both mommy and baby boy are doing great. Thank you all for your love!” In the video, Marcus was sitting right by her bedside, gently blowing on a cup of warm water before carefully feeding it to Scarlett. “You did amazing, sweetheart. Thank you for your hard work.” When I saw the upload date of that video, my mind went completely blank. That was the exact day of my miscarriage. I had fallen down the stairs that day. I called Marcus, but he brushed me off, saying he was too busy at work and couldn’t leave. He said he would send his assistant. But his assistant never showed up. I was in so much pain I was about to pass out, so I called my grandmother. Because of my panicked call, my grandmother drove in such a rush to get to me that she got into a fatal car crash on the way. Because I was left alone for another half hour, the baby didn’t make it. My uterus was severely damaged, and the doctors told me I could never get pregnant again. For a long time, I blamed myself entirely. I saw myself as a murderer. To try and get pregnant again, I took countless pills and endured so many hormone injections that my stomach was covered in needle marks. I even developed severe depression and thought about ending my life. Back then, Marcus had fallen to his knees before me, his eyes red. “It’s okay if we don’t have kids, Hathaway. I only care about your health.” But the truth was, he already had a family waiting for him outside! I bit my lip so hard the skin broke, filling my mouth with the metallic taste of blood. With trembling fingers, I dialed my best friend Juliet’s number. “Marcus is cheating on me. How can I get a divorce in the shortest time possible?” Just as I hung up, the phone on the desk vibrated. A text from Marcus popped up: “I have to work late at the office tonight. I won’t be coming home. Don’t wait up for me.”

A wave of overwhelming rage and betrayal washed over me. I pulled up his real-time location on my phone. Because of Marcus’s supposed face blindness, I had installed a GPS tracker on his phone, terrified he would get lost. The Uber sped down the road, getting closer and closer to the pinpoint on the map. My nails dug so deep into my palms that they bled. I stared at the screen, putting myself through torture, yet a small, pathetic part of me still hoped this was all a giant mistake. Until the Uber pulled up near the amusement park downtown. Amidst the crowded streets, I spotted Marcus instantly. He wasn’t at the office. He was holding a glowing wand in his right hand, while his left hand was wrapped tightly around Scarlett’s slender wrist. His face wore a look of pure adoration I had never seen before. “Marcus, I want to go to the movies later,” Scarlett whined, tugging at his arm like a spoiled teenager. “Today is your birthday, babe. I’ll give you whatever you want,” Marcus smiled, tapping her nose playfully. He pinched her youthful, collagen-filled cheek and kissed her deeply. “You’re a mother now, and you still act like a little girl.” Behind them, fireworks exploded in the night sky. I stared at them, my tears finally spilling over. Today was also my twenty-fifth birthday. This morning, I had asked Marcus if we could go watch a movie together after his therapy session. Marcus had merely given me a cold, dismissive glance. He said, “You’re twenty-five, Hathaway, not fifteen. Can you stop being so childish? I’m too busy with work for that.” In our eight years of marriage, he had only taken me to the movies once, and that was after I begged him for weeks. Every time I wanted him to spend time with me, he always used the “busy with work” excuse. But then I thought of those nine hundred and ninety-nine movie tickets in his drawer. No matter the weather, no matter how busy he was, he always had time for Scarlett. Watching them kiss under the fireworks, I felt my heart being ripped to pieces. I thought of my unborn baby, who had been discarded like trash before even having a chance to live. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed the car door open and charged toward them. I wanted to scream at Marcus and demand to know why! For all these years, I had been his perfect little housewife, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of his demanding parents. Why did he do this to me? But before I could reach them, a loud fire alarm echoed through the entire park. Someone screamed, “Fire! There’s a fire!” The amusement park was surrounded by dense woods, and the dry brush ignited instantly. The flames spread rapidly, heading right toward my direction. The moment I saw the roaring fire, the dark memories of my childhood broke through my mind, suffocating me. I gasped for air, my knees buckling. I tried to turn around and run, but the panicked crowd shoved me to the ground. My ankle twisted with a sickening pop, and the sharp pain kept me from standing up. The fire grew larger, thick black smoke filling the air. People were screaming and running in all directions. I choked on the smoke, coughing violently. Through my tear-filled eyes, I saw Marcus running desperately in my direction. I coughed up tears, thinking he had finally spotted me. I reached my hand out to him in desperation. “Marcus… help me…” But he didn’t even look at me. He ran straight past me, as if I were a complete stranger, and grabbed Scarlett, who was right behind me, pulling her tightly into his arms. “Scarlett, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” Scarlett clung to his chest, sobbing loudly. “You scared me to death! I was so worried your face blindness would make you mistake someone else for me…” Marcus held her as if she were his entire world. “Silly girl. I could fail to recognize anyone else, but never you. Your face is carved into my heart. How could I ever forget?” He lifted her up, and the two of them ran out of the park, leaving me behind. Memories of our teenage years flashed before my eyes. When my stepmother had locked me in a burning shed, trying to cremate me alive, it was Marcus who had kicked the door open and pulled me out of the flames. He had put ointment on my burns and sworn to protect me forever, promising he would never let me be scared again. Ten years of knowing each other, eight years of marriage, and in the end, he left me to burn while carrying another woman. The fire crept closer. I stared at Marcus’s disappearing back, choking on the thick smoke until darkness finally claimed me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at the sterile white ceiling of a hospital. An IV was hooked to the back of my hand, and my left arm was wrapped in heavy bandages. Beneath the gauze, the pain told me my skin had been badly burned. The door burst open, and Marcus rushed in, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Hathaway! The doctor called and said you were hospitalized for burns. Didn’t I tell you to stay your ass at home?” As he spoke, he rushed to the bed next to mine, grabbing the hand of the woman lying there with deep concern. “Who the hell are you? Why are you touching my wife’s hand?!” the woman’s husband snapped, shoving Marcus away. The nurse nearby gave Marcus a pitying look, sighed, and pointed at me. “Hathaway is in Bed 48.” Marcus froze. He turned around and stared at me for a long time before he finally recognized me. He scratched his head awkwardly and walked over to take my hand. “Hathaway…” The strong scent of Scarlett’s perfume on his clothes hit my nose. I stared at him in dead silence. There was a bright red lipstick stain on his neck. Looking at his face—the face of the man I had lived with for eight years, the same face that had abandoned me in a burning park to save another woman—I felt nothing but disgust. I looked at my bandaged, ruined arm. I let out a cold, self-deprecating laugh and slapped his hand away. “Marcus, tell me, how does it feel to keep a mistress on the side?” The moment those words left my mouth, every eye in the ward locked onto Marcus. His face flushed red with embarrassment, his eyes darting around guiltily. He lowered his voice and hissed at me. “Hathaway, are you out of your mind?!” “Just because I couldn’t spend your birthday with you due to work, you’re making this giant scene? Is this really necessary?!” Looking at his angry, defensive face, I felt sick. I unlocked my phone and shoved the pictures I took at the amusement park right in front of his face. Marcus took one look at the screen, and his voice died in his throat. “Hathaway, I…” He looked around nervously. I sneered. “What else do you want to say?” The other patients and their families started whispering, leaning in to get a glimpse of the photos. Marcus’s face turned pale. He snatched the phone from my hand and grabbed my arm, violently dragging me out of the bed. “There are too many people here. We’re talking outside!” “Why? Are you actually ashamed of the disgusting things you did?!” I screamed, struggling against his grip. Marcus yanked me out into the hallway. The IV needle was ripped violently out of my vein, and blood began to gush down my arm, but he didn’t even notice. Once we reached an empty corner of the hallway, he threw my hand down. “Hathaway, have you had enough?!” “Scarlett is a public figure! Why the hell are you taking photos of her? What are you trying to do, ruin her?!” “If you have a problem, take it out on me!” He was absolutely furious. I realized then that he hadn’t dragged me out here to apologize or explain. He was just terrified that his precious Scarlett would get hurt. Marcus’s chest heaved. It wasn’t until he noticed the pool of blood dripping down my hand that he paused. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grabbed my shoulders. “Hathaway, just calm down and listen to me. It was an accident.” “We both got wasted at a bar that night. Scarlett was a virgin. How could I just walk away and not take responsibility for her?!” My heart felt like it was being sliced into pieces by a thousand knives. I had been with him since I was eighteen. He had face blindness, and he had mistaken other women for me countless times, but I had never blamed him. Even that one time we were held up by thugs, and Marcus rescued the wrong girl because of his condition, leaving me behind. I was stabbed and nearly died, leaving a permanent scar on my chest. Even then, I never blamed him. Because I believed he didn’t mean to do it. Eighteen years. For eighteen years, he couldn’t remember my face. Yet, it only took him three years to memorize Scarlett’s. When he decided to “take responsibility” for Scarlett, did he ever think of me, sitting at home keeping the dinner warm, waiting for him? Marcus looked at me, speaking with a straight face. “Don’t worry. I know the difference between having fun outside and loving you. As long as you don’t make a scene, you will always be Mrs. Marcus.” My body trembled as I stared at the man standing in front of me, dressed in his expensive suit. I couldn’t believe this shameless cheater was the same man who used to tear up whenever I got a tiny scratch. Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrated. I saw the caller ID on the screen: My Precious Scarlett. In all our years together, my contact name on his phone had only ever been my first and last name. Scarlett’s sobbing voice came through the speaker. “Marcus… our baby has a high fever. We need to take him to the ER. Please come home quickly…” Marcus’s face instantly filled with panic. He gave me a hurried, dismissive glance. “Alright, let’s just let this go. Take care of yourself, and I’ll come back to see you later.” With that, he turned on his heel and rushed out of the hospital without looking back once. Watching his retreating figure, all the strength drained from my body. I collapsed onto the cold floor, pulling my knees to my chest, and cried my eyes out. Until a pair of expensive, blood-red high heels appeared in front of my eyes. Scarlett stood there, holding a baby, looking down at me with pure disdain. “You’re Hathaway, right? We need to talk.” Sensing her hostile intentions, I secretly dialed Juliet’s number and kept the line open. “If anything goes wrong, call the cops immediately,” I texted her quickly.

Scarlett dragged me down to the cafe on the first floor of the hospital and got straight to the point. “Actually, Marcus and I got married eight years ago.” She smiled triumphantly, kissing the baby in her arms, and pushed two marriage certificates across the table. My eyes widened in disbelief as I flipped open the documents. The registration date on them was March 16th, eight years ago. While Marcus and I had “gotten married” in April of that same year. Marcus had lied to me. Not only had they been together for eight years, but my marriage certificate was a fake! Looking at my devastated state, Scarlett burst into a mocking laugh. “When you had that miscarriage, I was the one who lured Marcus away on purpose.” “And your grandmother? I was the one who made sure she was taken care of.” She chuckled, her smile becoming downright wicked. “That old woman was so useless. She got so scared that she drove her car straight into a semi-truck. You can’t blame me for that, can you?” She stood up, looking down at me. “So, you’re the actual homewrecker here. Your mother couldn’t hold onto her man, and her daughter is just as pathetic!” I glared at her, every cell in my body screaming for blood. My grandmother’s last phone call flashed through my mind. She had gasped for breath, telling me to take care of myself, apologizing that she was too weak to protect me. My sanity snapped. I lunged forward and grabbed Scarlett’s neck. “You bitch! Why did you do that?!” But the harder I choked her, the more excited Scarlett seemed to get. She grinned at me as the baby in her arms began to scream. The next second, a powerful kick slammed into my stomach. “You psycho! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I was knocked backward, my forehead slamming against the sharp edge of the table. Warm blood gushed down my face. The pain was so intense I gasped, my face turning deathly pale. Marcus stood there, glaring at me with murderous rage. Scarlett sobbed, shrinking into his chest. “Marcus… I just wanted to beg Hathaway to give us a place to live. But she said I ruined her family and tried to kill me…” The fire in Marcus’s eyes burned even hotter. I tried to explain through the pain. “No… my grandmother… she killed—” “Enough!” Marcus roared, cutting me off. “You are evil, Hathaway! Scarlett is holding a baby! How dare you attack her?!” He picked Scarlett up in a bridal carry and turned to leave, giving me a cold, disgusted look. “Hathaway, I told you to behave, but you just wouldn’t listen.” “If I don’t teach you a lesson, you’ll never learn!” After they left, I dragged my numb body up, intending to go back to the ER to get my head stitched. But my phone suddenly went crazy, vibrating with endless calls and texts, many of them cursing me to die. Panicked, I opened my social media. The trending hashtag on Twitter made my heart stop. #Hathaway The Homewrecker Attempted Murder# Scarlett had posted a video on her TikTok account. In the video, she tearfully accused me of being a homewrecker who stole her husband and tried to kill her and her baby because Marcus wanted a divorce. The comment section was filled with venomous abuse, and some people had even leaked my mother’s phone number. My mother called me, her voice gasping for air. “Hathaway… how could you do something so shameful? Are you trying to kill me?!” My father had cheated on her, so my mother hated mistresses more than anything in the world. Over the phone, I could hear her having a panic attack. “Mom! No, listen to me—” Before I could finish, the people in the cafe suddenly surrounded me, shouting slurs and kicking me to the floor. Outside the glass window, Scarlett was cradling her baby in Marcus’s arms, watching the scene with a smug grin. Marcus looked away, seemingly unable to watch, and sent me one final text. “You made Scarlett angry. This is your punishment. Just bear with it, and once this blows over, we’ll go back to how we were.” But when he saw my face covered in blood, he finally made a move to come inside and stop them. Suddenly, a loud police siren wailed outside. A squad of police officers burst into the cafe. “Freeze! Nobody move!”

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