I was forced into a marriage with my sworn enemy, Liam Hartwell. We’d barely stepped out of City Hall when he shoved a contract in my face, his expression ice-cold. “Don’t touch me. Don’t cross the line. Whoever falls first walks away with nothing.” I was about to have cold laugh — when a voice suddenly exploded inside my head: 【OH MY GOD SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL. The marriage certificate literally smells so good. I want to kiss her, hold her, pull her so close she becomes part of me — Liam, keep it TOGETHER. Do NOT let her underestimate you!】 My eyes went wide. I stared at the man in front of me — perfectly tailored suit, blank expression, not a single emotion on his face. Oh, really? If he wanted to play games, fine. I’d play along — and I’d tear that fragile self-control of his apart piece by piece. He had less than a month before he’d be on his knees, eyes red, begging me to love him. “Sign it, Ruby Valentine. Let’s get one thing straight — this marriage exists for one reason: to keep both our companies’ stock prices from tanking. Don’t touch me. Don’t cross the line. Whoever falls first walks away with nothing.” In the backseat of the Rolls-Royce parked outside City Hall, Liam tossed a prenuptial agreement onto my lap without so much as glancing at me. He was wearing a perfectly fitted custom suit, and behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were as cold as ice. I looked down at the contract and laughed inwardly. Liam and I — Boston’s most notorious rivals. We’d been competing our whole lives. I ranked first in our grade, so he went and won a national math olympiad. I launched a startup in college, so he turned his family’s company into a publicly traded corporation. And even today — getting married — was only happening because a joint overseas investment project had blown up in scandal, and to stop our stock prices from free-falling, our families had decided to tie us together. I reached for the pen to sign — and then the car slammed to a sudden stop. “Ugh—” I hadn’t buckled my seatbelt. I lurched forward, completely out of control, and my forehead crashed straight into Liam’s chest. The faint scent of dark sandalwood wrapped around me instantly. I was about to snap at him — when a deafening voice exploded in my head: 【HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. She just fell into my arms. She’s so soft. She smells so good. Oh my GOD — did she do that on purpose? She’s definitely doing this on purpose. She’s trying to seduce me. Hold it together! Liam, you are a cold, powerful CEO. Do NOT blow your cover!】 I froze completely. I jerked my head up and stared at him like I’d seen a ghost. He still had that same frigid, unapproachable expression — if anything, he looked annoyed. He pushed me away with one hand and brushed off his jacket with the other. “Ruby Valentine. Rule number one: don’t touch me. And you’re already throwing yourself at me?” But inside my head, that voice was still screaming: 【HELP. The way she just looked up at me — those eyes — I want to kiss her. I want to pin her against this seat and kiss her until she can’t breathe. But I can’t. If I do that now, she’ll laugh at me forever. I have to stay cold. I have to make HER fall first.】 I swallowed hard and pointed at him in disbelief. “You — what did you just say?” Liam let out a cold scoff. “I said wipe your mouth. Don’t get drool on my custom suit.” I took a slow, deep breath. Okay. So I’d somehow developed a superpower. I could hear this insufferable man’s inner thoughts. I looked at his perfectly composed, completely fake expression — and felt a wicked little thrill rise up inside me. Playing hard to get, are we? Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep this up. Instead of snapping back at him like I normally would, I let myself sink lazily against the seat. I tugged my neckline down just slightly, letting my collarbone catch the light, and said in the sweetest voice I could manage, “honey~ That hurts, you know. Aren’t you going to rub a little for me?” Liam’s entire body visibly stiffened. 【honey?! She called me honey?! She actually just called me HONEY. Is this real life? How is this free? oh no, I’m going to have a nosebleed. 】 【CALM DOWN. Have a deep breaths. This is obviously a trap. Ruby is trying to get me to fall first so she can take my shares. Do not fall for it. Do NOT fall for it.】 He clenched his jaw so hard I could almost hear it, and forced out each word like it cost him something. “Ruby. Did you mess up with your head?” I burst out laughing, grabbed the contract, and scrawled my signature across it in one dramatic sweep. “Sure, Mr. Hartwell.” I smiled at him. “Let’s see who begs first.”

On my first night in Liam’s house, I decided to “hit “him hard. We were rivals. We’d signed a contract saying whoever fell first would lose everything. So naturally, I was going to win — by whatever means necessary. After my shower, I skipped my own pajamas entirely and dug through his closet until I found an oversized white dress shirt. I pulled it on. It just barely covered the tops of my thighs — enough to cover everything, not enough to leave much to the imagination. My legs dangled bare in the cool air. I ran a towel through my half-damp hair, pushed open the door to his study, and walked in. Liam was sitting at his desk, in the middle of an international video call. His English was flawless — sharp, cold, and completely professional. He heard me come in and turned his head. The moment his eyes landed on me, his voice cut off mid-sentence. 【Thump thump! Thump thump!】 I could practically hear his heart slamming against his ribs. 【Oh my God. Why is she dressed like that?! Those legs… that waist… wait — that’s MY shirt! She’s wearing MY shirt! She’s doing this on purpose. Is she trying to kill me tonight?!】 I was dying laughing on the inside, but I kept my face perfectly innocent. I picked up a glass of warm milk, walked over to him, and leaned down slowly. The neckline of the shirt fell open just enough. “Honey, it’s so late — you should take a break.” I let my breath brush right against his ear, warm and soft. “I brought you some milk.” Liam’s throat moved in a hard swallow. He snapped his laptop shut — cutting off the video call entirely — and his expression darkened into something dangerous. “Ruby.” His voice came out rough, like he was grinding the words between his teeth. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 【Don’t lean that close! I’m losing my mind! One more inch and I swear I won’t be able to control myself. Does she know? Has she figured me out? No — impossible. I’ve been so careful.】 I blinked at him, all wide eyes and innocence. “I just wanted to take care of you. What’s wrong?” I glanced down at the shirt and smiled. “This smells so good, by the way. I didn’t bring any pajamas, Mind if I borrow yours? You’re not being stingy, are you, Mr. Hartwell?” As I said it, I reached out and traced a slow circle on his chest with one finger. Liam’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. His grip was startlingly strong. His eyes burned dark, locked onto mine. “Take it off.” I held his gaze and raised an eyebrow. “And if I don’t?” 【Don’t take it off! Please, for the love of — just keep it on! AHHHH I can’t take this anymore, someone save me! How does she always know exactly how to drive me insane?!】 Watching him scream internally while keeping his face completely blank on the outside — I almost lost it. I nearly burst out laughing right then and there. I let my foot slip on purpose. I stumbled forward and fell straight into his arms. Liam’s body always told the truth, even when his mouth wouldn’t. His arms came up on instinct and caught me, pulling me firmly against him. His muscles were rigid as stone. His heart was pounding so hard I could feel it. 【She’s so soft… she smells so good… I’m done. I am completely done.】 【She’s moving again — if she does that one more time I’m going to lose all self-control! No. No, Liam. You have to hold it . If you give in now, you’ll never have the upper hand in this relationship again. Not once. Ever.】 He pushed me back — firmly, but carefully, like he was afraid of hurting me. “Stay away from me. Go back to your own room.” Then he turned and bolted like he’d seen a ghost, making a beeline straight for the bathroom. A moment later, the sound of rushing water came through the door. Cold water. I leaned against the doorframe and listened to him fall apart on the inside: 【Cold shower. I need a cold shower. Okay. Clear your mind. Think of nothing. Think of anything else… God, she has an incredible figure… ugh, this is so unfair. I’m a married man taking cold showers in my own house. oh no.】

The next morning, I slept in on purpose. By the time I came downstairs, Liam was already sitting at the dining table with his coffee. He looked absolutely dreadful, sporting heavy bags under his eyes and a stormy expression, surrounded by a palpable ‘keep your distance’ energy. Clearly, the cold shower hadn’t done much for his sleep. I walked over, pulled out the chair right next to him, sat down, and propped my chin in my hand. “Rough night, honey? Can’t sleep without me holding you right?” Liam’s coffee cup jerked in his hand. He nearly spilled it. 【Here she goes again! She’s doing it again! This is absolutely on purpose — she wants to watch me embarrass myself!】 He set the cup down and gave me a flat, cold look. “Ruby. Drop the act. I’m not interested.” Just then, the front doorbell rang. The housekeeper had barely opened the door before a voice floated in — soft, trembling, soaked in tears. “Liam!” A woman in a white dress came rushing inside, her expression fragile and pitiful. It was Liam’s cousin, Lily Ward. Lily had been attached to Liam since they were kids. She’d never bothered to hide how much she disliked me. Everyone in Boston knew Lily followed Liam around like a little tail. She didn’t even glance in my direction. She went straight to Liam, eyes red and glistening. “Liam, I heard you and Ruby got married ?How could you marry her ! You always said you couldn’t stand women like her — pushy, mean, manipulative. You said she was exactly the type you hated most!” The whole room went still. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Liam with a slow, amused smile. Oh? The type he hated most? The color drained from Liam’s face — and then it went completely, furiously dark. 【Bullsh*t! When did I ever say that?! My wife isn’t vicious — she’s fierce! She’s a queen! Who the hell do you think you are, talking about my wife like that?!】 【Oh no, oh no — what if Ruby misunderstood? What if she gets so mad she files for divorce on the spot? Lily, you idiot, are you trying to get me killed!】 I took a slow, unhurried sip of my milk and watched quietly to see how he’d handle it. Liam drew a deep breath, shot to his feet, and fixed Lily with an ice-cold stare. “Lily, first — call me Mr. Hartwell.” “Second, Ruby is my legal wife and the rightful lady of the Hartwell family. I can barely keep up with how much I love her. Dislike her? Where would that even come from?” “Third — who gave you the nerve to walk into my home and speak to my wife like that? Get out.” The rapid-fire words hit Lily like a slap. She stood there, stunned. Her eyes went wide with disbelief, tears streaming down her face. “Liam… you said you love her?” She wasn’t the only one caught off guard. I blinked too. Liam seemed to realize he’d let something slip. A flicker of panic crossed his face. 【Oh sh*t. That just came out! Does that count as me fall first? No — no, it doesn’t! I was just putting on a show for the outsider! Right, it was all an act! Ruby’s smart enough to know I didn’t mean it. She won’t take it seriously.】 Watching him scramble internally, clearly losing his mind, I nearly burst out laughing. I stood up, walked over to Liam, and slipped my arm through his. I leaned my head against his shoulder and gave Lily my best winner’s smile. “Miss Ward — did you catch that? My husband just said he loves me. So please, do us a favor and stop interrupting our time together from now on. The door’s right over there. show yourself out.” Lily trembled with rage, jabbing a finger at us. “You two… you’ll regret this!” With that, she pressed a hand over her face and ran out sobbing. Liam watched her go and let out a long, quiet breath. 【Thank God. I thought I was screwed — good thing Ruby played along. But that woman Lily is a trouble. I’m never letting her through that door again.】 He turned his head and noticed my arm was still linked through his. His body went stiff all over again. 【She’s still holding on to me. This feels so good… I don’t want her to let go…】 I wasn’t about to give him what he wanted. I pulled my arm free, smoothed out the wrinkles in my sleeve, and said coolly, “Not bad acting, Mr. Hartwell. You almost had me fooled for a second.” Liam’s expression dimmed. He let out a cold scoff. “Same to you. It was just a performance, Mrs. Hartwell. Don’t buy it.” 【She really didn’t take it seriously. When am I ever going to get to hold her without hiding it…】

A few days later, on the weekend, the Hartwell family held their monthly dinner at the old estate. As newlyweds, Liam and I were expected to attend together. The Hartwell family had deep, murky waters beneath the surface. Liam’s parents had passed away when he was young, and he had been raised entirely by his grandmother Elizabeth Hartwell. And then there is his uncle, William Hartwell. Always hungry for the CEO seat of The Hartwell Group, he has always viewed Liam as a thorn in his side. The moment we walked in, Elizabeth Hartwell’s face lit up and she waved me over warmly. “Ruby, sweetheart, come sit with me. I’ve been waiting for long long time — and you’re finally part of our family.” She took my hands in hers, beaming from ear to ear. “You two have been bickering since you were kids — I always knew it was just that classic love-hate thing. If Liam ever gives you a hard time, you come straight to me. I’ll sort him out.” I smiled and nodded sweetly. “Thank you, Grandmother Hartwell.” Nearby, Lily watched the exchange, a flash of cold resentment crossing her eyes. She was here too, standing beside William. Before long, Lily walked over carrying a steaming cup of herbal tea, a syrupy smile plastered on her face. “Mrs. Hartwell, don’t let us keep you from your tea. I made this especially for you — please have it.” I was standing close enough that the moment she brought the cup over, I caught it — a scent. Faint. Almost imperceptible. But unmistakably off. My brow furrowed sharply. I recognized that smell. It was a byproduct from a targeted drug my family’s pharmaceutical company was currently developing. The compound itself was colorless and odorless — but when heated, it released a very specific scent. And it was lethal. Only someone who had personally overseen the development of that compound would recognize the smell. Lily was trying to poison Elizabeth Hartwell — and frame me for it it. That drug only existed in my family’s lab. I had just married into this family. If Elizabeth died, William would have every reason to seize control. What a vicious, airtight setup. I watched Elizabeth smile and lift the teacup toward her lips. There was no time to think. I lunged forward and slapped the cup out of her hand. Crack. Scalding tea splattered across the floor. The fine porcelain cup shattered into pieces. Dead silence fell over the room. Elizabeth flinched, staring at me in shock. Lily screamed first. “Ruby! Have you lost your mind?! You just knocked the cup out of Grandmother Hartwell’s hands — what is wrong with you?!” William shot to his feet, his voice sharp as a blade. “How dare you! Ruby, you just stepped through the door and already you dare to cause trouble in this old estate? Someone grab her — now!” Several bodyguards closed in immediately, their expressions dark and threatening. Liam’s face went pale. He tried to push through to reach me, but William’s men blocked him hard. [Let go of me! Any of you dare touch her! Ruby is not the kind of person who cause trouble without reason — something is wrong with that tea!] Hearing him defend me without a single doubt, I felt a quiet warmth move through my chest. I fixed my eyes on Lily’s smug face and snapped, “Nobody move. There’s poison in that tea.” The room erupted. Lily went white — then immediately fired back. “That’s insane! I brewed that tea myself. How could it be poisoned?! Ruby, you’re making things up!” “Am I?” I pressed forward, step by step. “Then prove it. Lick the tea off the floor.” At that moment, one of the servants suddenly dropped to her knees, pointing at me and sobbing. “Elizabeth Hartwell — Mr. William Hartwell — I saw it myself. I watched her sneak something into the teapot. A white powder. I saw it with my own eyes!” A witness. Physical evidence. A perfectly constructed frame-up. Elizabeth already had a weak heart. The shock of it all was too much. She clutched her chest, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. “Grandmother Hartwell!” Liam’s eyes went red. He tore free from the bodyguards and rushed to catch her. The entire hall descended into chaos. I stood where I was, watching the cold smile creeping at the corner of William’s mouth — and the gleam of satisfaction in Lily’s eyes. This had stopped being a game of love and loyalty. It was a fight with blood on the line.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432634”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In my past life, I spent ten years turning Alexander from a broke nobody into a billionaire. In return, he teamed up with my adopted sister, drove my parents to their deaths, and threw me into the fire with his own hands. As I lay dying, a cold mechanical voice echoed in my mind: “Congratulations, Host, on completing the early angst arc. After rebirth, please use a gentler love to redeem him.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back — back to the day Alexander was pinned down in an underground casino, about to lose a hand. The system told me to step in and take the blade for him. I smiled and said yes. I grabbed the knife right out of the man’s hand — and brought it down myself. Alexander’s blood splattered all over my face. The underground casino reeked of cheap cigarettes and blood. “Hold him down! You think you can cheat at my table and walk away with both hands?!” The scarred man’s roar shook the walls. I stood in a dim corner, watching Alexander get slammed onto the gambling table with cold, detached eyes. That sharp, arrogant face of his was smeared with dust and cold sweat. His eyes — wild, like a cornered animal — were locked straight onto me. Beneath the surface churned desperation, humiliation, and the faintest flicker of a plea for help. This exact moment, in my past life, was when those eyes fooled me. I had thrown myself forward like a madwoman, taking that rusted cleaver for him. The tendon in my right hand was severed. I never held a paintbrush again. And he — he gave me one cold glance, then calmly reached over and took the check I’d brought to pay off his debt. 【Host! Step forward immediately and take the blade for the male lead!】 【Current blackening level: 90%. Redemption progress: 0%.】 【Please follow the original script and warm his cold heart with your selfless love!】 The sharp mechanical voice screeched inside my head. I picked up a half-finished glass of red wine from the bar and gave it a slow swirl. The deep crimson liquid spun inside the glass — just like the blood pooling around my parents when they died. My dear little sister Chloe had been curled up in Alexander’s arms at the time, smiling — sweet and cruel all at once. A tearing pain radiated from somewhere deep in my chest. I lowered my eyes, buried every emotion, and swallowed down the bitterness and hatred rising in my throat. Then I took a quiet sip of wine. 【Warning! Host behavior has critically deviated from the main storyline!】 The system blared an alarm. I ignored it. “Victoria! What are you doing standing all the way over there?! You here to watch me suffer?!” Alexander finally snapped. He ground his teeth, his voice rough and low as he snarled at me. He was always like this — demanding things from me like it was his birthright. As if I had been put on this earth to give him everything. I let out a soft laugh and drained the rest of my wine. “Yeah,” I said. My voice was quiet, but it carried clearly to his ears. “I’m here to watch you lose that hand.” Alexander’s pupils shrank. He stared at me like he didn’t recognize me anymore. “You think playing hard to get is going to make me grateful?” He let out a cold laugh. “Victoria, you’re disgusting.” I looked at his smug, superior expression — even now, with a blade about to come down on him — and thought: the version of me from my past life was a complete and utter fool. “What are you waiting for?” I glanced over at the scarred man. “Looks like he doesn’t want that hand anyway.” The scarred man blinked — then broke into a vicious grin. The blade came down. “AAAGH—!” A raw, agonized scream tore through the entire underground casino. Blood splattered across the green felt of the gambling table. It was a brutal sight. Alexander crumpled to the floor, clutching his bleeding right hand, his eyes burning into me — filled with hatred. I set the empty wine glass back on the bar and walked out. This time, I was going to watch him — every step of the way — as he fell into the abyss. The early autumn night breeze carried a faint chill. I pushed open the front door of the Astor family villa. The living room was bright and warm. Mom was arranging flowers. Dad sat in his reading glasses, watching the financial news. When they saw me walk in, Mom immediately set down her scissors and came toward me. “Vicky, why are you home so late? It’s windy out — are you cold?” Dad looked up too. He didn’t say anything, but the worry in his eyes was impossible to hide. The moment I saw their faces — alive, real, right in front of me — my eyes filled with tears. I stepped forward and pulled Mom into a tight hug. “Mom… Dad…” I breathed them in, almost desperately, like I was trying to hold onto the feeling forever.

In my past life, this house had burned to ash. And my parents — they had been driven to jump from the rooftop. “Hey, what’s all this? Who upset my little princess?” Mom rubbed my back gently, her voice full of tenderness. I shook my head and forced the tears back down. “Nothing. I just missed you guys.” I made a silent vow: in this life, anyone who dared to touch the Astor family — even slightly — I would make them pay with everything they had. I had barely steadied myself when hurried footsteps sounded just outside the door. Chloe walked in supporting Alexander, whose face was deathly pale and whose right hand was wrapped in thick bandages. Chloe’s eyes were red and swollen, looking utterly pitiful. “Victoria, you’re back,” she said, glancing at me timidly. “I was passing by that off-the-books clinic on the south side of town and found Alexander badly hurt.” “I always thought you cared about him more than anyone. How could you just leave him there alone?” “I couldn’t bear to, so I brought him home. Please don’t be upset with me for taking matters into my own hands.” In just a few sentences, she’d painted me as a cold-blooded, heartless woman who’d let someone die without lifting a finger. And she was the kind, pure-hearted savior. In my previous life, I fell for that fake-innocent act of hers. I thought she was a sweet, well-behaved little sister. I had no idea she’d already been secretly involved with Alexander, the two of them plotting to strip the Astor family of everything. Alexander leaned weakly against the doorframe, cold sweat soaking through his shirt. He looked past Chloe, his gaze cutting straight toward me. There was a hidden challenge in his eyes. He was waiting for me to lose it — waiting for me to rush over and fuss over him with worried questions. After all, in the past, even if he got the tiniest scratch, I’d be too anxious to sleep for the entire night. Dad frowned. “Chloe, why are you bringing strangers home? What happened to his hand?” Chloe’s tears came tumbling down. “Dad, Alexander is in such a bad way — someone slashed his hand. If I hadn’t helped him, he could’ve bled out.” As she cried, she snuck glances at me, watching my reaction. I sat on the sofa, picked up the cup of black tea the housekeeper had just brewed, and blew on it gently. Alexander’s brow furrowed deeply. My calm was making him inexplicably irritated. “Victoria.” He finally couldn’t hold back anymore. His voice was weak but laced with suppressed anger. “Are you done with your little tantrum?” I set down my teacup and looked up at him. “Alexander, who the hell do you think you are? You’re not worth throwing a tantrum over.” My tone was completely flat, without a single ripple of emotion. “If Chloe likes picking up strays, let her. The Astor estate is big enough — we can afford to feed one more.” Alexander’s face turned ashen instantly. He stared at me, his chest heaving violently. The movement pulled at his wound, and he sucked in a sharp breath from the pain. Chloe was stunned too. “Victoria, how could you say something like that about Alexander…” “Shut up.” I cut her off coldly. “You brought him here, so you pay his medical bills. Don’t expect the Astor family to spend a single dime. And don’t let him stain the Persian rugs — they’re expensive.” With that, I stood up and walked straight toward the stairs. As I passed Alexander, he suddenly shot out his left hand and tried to grab my wrist. “Victoria, what the hell is wrong with you today!” he growled through gritted teeth. I stepped aside and brushed off my sleeve with distaste. “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” In the days that followed, Alexander naturally settled into one of the Astor family’s guest rooms. Chloe used looking after him as an excuse to hover around him all day long. The two of them went everywhere together, exchanging glances and secret smiles.

At dinner, Chloe even made a show of coyly serving food onto Alexander’s plate right in front of me. Dad couldn’t stand it. He dropped hints more than once that Alexander should move out. Each time, Chloe threw a massive fit — crying, screaming, threatening that if they kicked Alexander out while his hand wasn’t healed, it was the same as sending him to his death. Everyone expected me to be jealous. Everyone expected me to snap. But I didn’t. Every day, I followed Dad to the office, learning the core business operations, and handled several important documents with swift, decisive action. When I came home, I didn’t spare either of them a single glance. That total indifference sent Alexander into a panic. He was used to me chasing after him. He was used to me making him the center of my entire world. Now that his prey had suddenly slipped out of his control, his pathetic ego took a massive hit. On Saturday evening, I had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock at my door. Alexander pushed it open and walked in. He was wearing a clean shirt. The bandages on his right hand were already gone, leaving behind a jagged scar. He was holding a neatly packaged dessert box. “Vicky.” He softened his voice and walked toward me. “Chloe’s been working so hard taking care of me these past few days. I spent a little extra time with her — don’t give me the silent treatment anymore.” He set the box on the table, his tone carrying the air of someone bestowing a favor. “These are the mango mille crepe cakes from your favorite place. I stood in line for two hours to get them.” This is Alexander. Every time he hurts me, he tries to make it up to me with some cheap gesture like this. In my past life, the tiniest bit of sweetness from him was enough to move me to tears. Even though I’m severely allergic to mangoes. To avoid putting a damper on his mood, I’d force myself to swallow every bite, endure the agony of my swollen throat in silence, then sneak antihistamines in the middle of the night. I stared at the beautifully wrapped box and let out a cold laugh. “Take it away.” I didn’t even glance at him. I went back to flipping through the proposal in my hands. Alexander’s expression darkened. “Victoria, how long are you going to keep this up?” His patience had run out. “I already swallowed my pride to come and smooth things over, and you’re still going to push me like this? Do you have any idea how unreasonable you’re being right now?” I finally closed the proposal and looked up at him. Staring at the face I once loved with every fiber of my being, all I felt was nausea. “Alexander, do you think all you have to do is snap your fingers, and I’ll come crawling to you like a dog wagging its tail?” I stood up, grabbed the dessert box, and walked over to the trash can. Let go. With a thud, the delicate mango mille crepe hit the bottom and turned into a pile of mush. “I’m allergic to mangoes. Did you not know that?” I watched his expression freeze, and said each word slowly. “When you bought this — was it actually to make me feel better, or just to make yourself feel good about the gesture?” Alexander’s face twisted. He stared hard at the ruined cake in the trash, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Victoria, my patience has limits!” I smiled. “Funny. Mine just hit its limit too.” I pointed at the door. “Now get out of my room. First thing tomorrow morning, pack your things and get out of the Astor family home.” Alexander went completely still. He finally realized — I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was genuinely done with him. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by something darker. Just then, Chloe’s timid voice drifted in from outside the door. “Victoria, please don’t kick Alexander out.” Chloe pushed the door open and walked in, her eyes red. “Alexander’s hand may be injured, but he’s really talented. Dad already agreed to let him intern in Astor Group’s R&D department.” I narrowed my eyes, looking at the two of them. So that’s what this is about. Couldn’t even wait a little longer before trying to sink their hands into the core of Astor Group, could they? Alexander met my gaze, his chin lifting slightly, that familiar air of cold arrogance settling back over him. “Victoria, I’ll prove to you that I’m not some deadweight who needs to leech off you.”

Alexander got exactly what he wanted — a spot in Astor Group’s R&D department. With his genuine talent and his relentless, almost obsessive drive, he carved out a solid position for himself in the department within just one month. He was desperate to prove himself to me. He pushed himself hard every single day, staying at the office late into the night. Rumors started circulating around the company — that he was the future son-in-law of the Astor family, a rare tech prodigy. Every time we crossed paths in the hallway, he’d look at me with that pointed, meaningful gaze. He thought it would make me feel threatened. That I’d come running back to him. What he didn’t know was that every move he’d made was exactly what I had planned for. Because Astor Group was about to launch the development of its “Deep Sea” AI medical chip. In my past life, it was this very project that became the spark that burned the Astor family to the ground. Alexander had used his position in the R&D department to quietly steal the core source code for “Deep Sea.” He then handed it over to a shell tech company that Chloe had secretly registered under a fake name. In the end, Astor Group didn’t just miss its window in the market — the massive R&D funds poured into the project couldn’t be recovered, and the cash flow collapsed entirely. My father had scrambled to save the company, borrowing from every direction he could, until they finally maneuvered him into a corner with no way out. This time, I was the one who made the first move. I granted the senior researchers in the R&D department access to the core code repository for “Deep Sea.” Of course, that code had been carefully… dressed up by a top-tier hacker I’d hired. On the day of the Annual Tech Summit, every seat in the venue was taken. Alexander stood at the entrance in a perfectly tailored bespoke suit. He radiated the sharp, hungry energy of someone who was absolutely certain he was about to win — nothing left of the disheveled wreck I’d seen at that casino. When he spotted me walking toward him, he stepped forward to meet me. “Vicky,” he said, lowering his voice with the condescending air of someone doing her a favor. “All you have to do is swallow your pride right now, apologize to Chloe, and promise to stop going after her. In return, I’ll hand over a core piece of technology I hold to Astor Group—free of charge—and protect Astor Group’s standing in the industry.” He thought he had Astor Group by the throat. He thought he’d finally found a way to crush me under his heel and force me to submit. I looked at him standing there, so full of himself, and almost laughed. “Alexander, are you out of your mind?” I shot back without an ounce of courtesy. His expression darkened. He reached out to grab my shoulder. “Victoria, don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be. You have no idea what you’re walking into. Don’t make me be the one to tear that pride of yours apart.” I stepped aside, avoiding his hand, and stared at him coldly. “Go ahead. I’d love to see you try.” The summit officially began. Tech companies took the stage one by one to showcase their latest innovations. When the host announced “Starlight Tech”—the name of Chloe’s shell company—a wave of murmurs rippled through the room. After all, it was a brand-new company that no one had ever heard of. But when Alexander walked onto the stage as Starlight Tech Chief Technology Officer and unveiled their AI medical chip called “Nova” the entire room went silent. Because Nova’s specifications and architecture were nearly identical to Astor Group’s “Deep Sea” chip—matching it almost point for point, and even edging it out slightly in certain processing speeds. Alexander stood beneath the spotlight, his gaze burning as he looked down at me from the stage. He was waiting for me to look shocked. Desperate. Shattered. Waiting for me to crawl to him and beg. Chloe sat nearby, the satisfaction on her face impossible to hide. The investors in the audience were buzzing, throwing offers at Starlight Tech left and right. The host announced with barely contained excitement, “Starlight Technologies’ Nova chip is, without a doubt, a landmark breakthrough in medical technology!” Thunderous applause. Alexander looked at me through the crowd, his eyes gleaming with the arrogance of a man who thought he’d already won. “Victoria,” he mouthed slowly. “I told you you’d regret this.” I ignored him. Instead, I reached into my bag and pulled out a slim laptop. I stood up and walked straight toward the stage. I grabbed the microphone right out of the host’s hand. “Congratulations to Starlight Tech,” I said, my voice steady and clear, “for successfully unveiling a ticking time bomb that could blow up the entire global healthcare system.”

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Only right before I died did I see the screen full of floating comments: 【I’m dying laughing. This male supporting character is so stupid. He spent five years as a blood bank and still thought it was love.】 【Once he dies, Vivian and Julian will inherit his fortune and officially announce their marriage.】 【A pure ATM plus a walking blood bank. This tool man is seriously miserable.】 I looked at Vivian, who was holding her first love in her arms while letting me bleed to death, and I finally understood. I was living inside a tragic romance novel, and I was the stupidest tool man in it. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the car accident. Vivian was holding Julian, who had only scraped a little skin, and fussing over him, then she turned around and was about to scold me for driving carelessly. I ignored her and called my lawyer directly. “Freeze all of Vivian’s assets, pull funding from every project, and also get back every cent I’ve spent on her over the past five years, principal and interest included.” The comments exploded. 【Holy shit! He awakened!!】 【The living devil is online! This trash couple is done for!】

The violent crash tore through the night sky. My body rolled with the car, and my forehead slammed hard against the window as warm liquid slid down my cheek and blurred my vision. “Ethan! Ethan, how are you?!” Vivian’s panicked voice echoed inside the cramped car. She kicked open the twisted car door and desperately shielded Julian, who had been sitting in the passenger seat, in her arms before helping him out with extreme care. From beginning to end, she never once looked at me, trapped in the back seat with both legs pinned tightly beneath the seat. “Vivian…” I struggled to open my mouth, my voice as faint as a thread. “Save me…” Vivian’s footsteps paused. She turned back, her cold gaze sweeping over my mangled, bloody legs as her brows drew tight. “Ethan, Julian has a clotting disorder, and he scraped his skin, so the bleeding has to be stopped immediately.” “You’re just stuck, and you won’t die, so be good and wait in the car for the ambulance.” After she said that, she supported Julian and rushed toward a taxi she had stopped by the roadside without looking back. They sped away in a cloud of dust. I watched the taillights disappear into the rainy night, and my heart felt like it had been crushed by an invisible hand. Just then, a blinding red light suddenly flashed before my eyes. Immediately after, lines of strange floating comments abruptly appeared in midair. 【Sigh, the tool-man male lead is about to be abused again.】 【He doesn’t know that he’s just the “walking blood bank” for the Oscar-winning actress’s true love. Vivian is with him just so Julian can get blood transfusions anytime.】 【Once both his legs are crippled, Vivian will naturally bring up breaking up, then turn around and get together with Julian. The two of them will use the male lead’s money and resources to become the model couple of the industry.】 【Poor thing. Before his mom died, she gave him all her shares, but he dumped everything onto that trash woman and ended up being drained of blood alive.】 I stared hard at those red words, my mind completely blank. A walking blood bank? An ATM? Drained of blood alive? It turned out that my years of devotion had only been an elaborate pig-butchering scam. Agony, mixed with extreme rage, spread wildly through every inch of my body. I bit through my lip and tasted the strong tang of blood. I was not dead. I, Ethan Hale, would never die just like this at the hands of a trash woman. Using the last bit of strength in my entire body, I pulled my phone from my bag and called my private lawyer. “Attorney Miller.” “Cancel all resources and financial support under my name for Vivian’s studio.” “Yes, all of it.” “Do not leave her a single cent.”

The smell of disinfectant in the hospital was sharp. I lay in the hospital bed with my right leg in a thick cast. The doctor said that if I had been brought in half an hour later, my leg would have been completely ruined. The door to the ward was shoved open. Julian rushed in wearing an oversized hospital gown, his eyes red. “Ethan, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it.” He rushed to my bedside, his voice choked. “If Vivian hadn’t been trying to protect me, she wouldn’t have left you alone…” “Please don’t blame her. If you have to blame someone, blame me.” Behind him stood Vivian, her face dark. She looked at my casted leg, and there was not the slightest trace of pain in her eyes, only impatience. “Ethan, are you done making a scene?” “Julian was so worried about you that he came running over before his own wound was even bandaged, so who are you trying to impress with that cold face?” “I’ve already had the company release a statement saying the accident was an accident and won’t affect Julian’s reputation, so cooperate and repost it later.” I looked at the two of them playing off each other and almost laughed out loud. 【I’m dying laughing. A cat crying over a mouse. Such fake mercy.】 【This woman is still thinking about burying the trending topic. She has no idea the male lead has already pulled the rug out from under her.】 【Julian is such a drama queen. His acting is more convincing than Vivian’s, and she’s the Oscar winner.】 I raised my hand, avoided Julian’s outstretched hand, picked up the wet wipe by the bed, and wiped my fingers one by one as if they had been stained with something dirty. “There’s no need to apologize.” “After all, I don’t plan to forgive you.” Julian’s crying froze, and he looked at me in disbelief. Vivian frowned, her tone thick with warning. “Ethan, Julian didn’t do it on purpose, so don’t be so unreasonable when you already have the upper hand.” “He has been in poor health since childhood, so it’s only right for you to give way to him.” It was this same speech again. Ever since we were kids, whenever Julian and I had any conflict, everyone told me to give way to him. Because he had a clotting disorder, and because he was the weak one who needed care. And I was the soil that provided nutrients for him, so I deserved to be sacrificed. I threw the used wet wipe accurately into the trash can and looked up at her coldly. “Vivian, have you forgotten that I am your fiancé?” “At the scene of the accident, you abandoned your fiancé whose legs were pinned down and went to take care of a man who had only scraped his skin.” “Now you even want me to cooperate with your statement and cover up your shamelessness?” “Who the hell do you think you are?” Vivian’s face instantly turned livid. She stared hard at me as if she no longer recognized me. In the past, as long as she frowned, Ethan would rush over in distress to ask if she was okay. He would never look at her with eyes that seemed to be looking at garbage. “Ethan, what the hell is wrong with you?” She gritted her teeth and stepped closer. “Do you know that because you threw a tantrum and froze my cards, several projects at my studio have all been shut down?” “Call the bank immediately and unfreeze them. Otherwise, our engagement ceremony will be postponed indefinitely.” She thought that if she threatened me with the engagement, I would compromise like I used to. I looked at that self-righteous face and suddenly felt utterly sick. “There’s no need to postpone it.” I pressed the call button beside the bed. “Vivian, we’re breaking off the engagement.”

The ward fell into deathly silence. Vivian froze in place, a trace of panic flashing through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by contempt. “Ethan, what kind of hard-to-get game are you playing now?” “Breaking off the engagement? Can you bear to do that?” “Everyone in New York high society knows that you, Ethan Hale, love me so much that you don’t even want your dignity.” “Now you’re using the engagement to threaten me? Do you think I’ll believe you?” Julian quickly spoke too, timidly saying, “Ethan, don’t be angry with Vivian.” “I know you’re mad because of me, so at worst… at worst, I’ll never see Vivian again.” As he spoke, his eyes reddened again, as if he had suffered some huge injustice. Vivian immediately stood in front of him in distress and glared at me. “Ethan, look at what you’ve become.” “Julian thinks of you in everything, but you make things difficult for him at every turn.” “I’m telling you, if you don’t unfreeze the cards and apologize to Julian today, then I won’t marry you.” I coldly watched this man and woman perform, and not a single ripple stirred in my heart. There was only disgust. “Nurse.” I looked at the nurse who had just pushed the door open and come in. “These two are disturbing my rest, so please ask them to leave.” “Also, notify security that from now on, without my permission, these two are not allowed to step into my ward.” The nurse looked at me, then at Vivian’s livid face, and politely issued the order to leave. “You two, the patient needs quiet rest, so please leave.” Vivian’s face completely lost its composure. She pointed at me, her finger trembling slightly. “Fine. Ethan, don’t regret this.” “When you come crying to beg me, I’ll see how you clean up this mess.” After saying that, she dragged Julian with her and slammed the door in a rage as she left. The ward finally quieted down. I took out my phone and called my assistant, Josh. “Josh, help me prepare a press conference, and set it for tomorrow afternoon.” “Also, bring me the recording pen from my safe.” There were some surprises saved in there. Since we were going to tear things apart, then we might as well tear them apart completely.

The next afternoon. The tags “Ethan Hale Seriously Injured in Car Accident” and “Vivian Abandons Fiancé” stayed on the trending list all night. Vivian’s PR team desperately tried to suppress the trending topics, but my team spent ten times the money and pinned the heat firmly at the top. At the press conference, camera flashes fell like snow, dazzling enough to make people dizzy. I sat in a wheelchair with my right leg in a cast, my face pale but my eyes firm. Vivian actually came too. She was probably afraid I would say something reckless in front of the media, so she had rushed over specifically to “control the scene.” She walked to my side and tried to hold my hand like usual, but I coldly avoided her. Her hand froze in midair, and a trace of darkness flashed through her eyes, but facing the cameras, she still forced out an affectionate smile. “Thank you for your concern, friends from the media. Ethan’s body is still recovering, so I hope everyone will not disturb him too much.” “As for last night’s accident, it was only a small incident. The situation was urgent at the time, and I simply sent Julian, who was more seriously injured, to seek medical treatment first. I did not abandon Ethan.” “My relationship with Ethan is very stable, and the engagement ceremony will proceed as scheduled.” She spoke in such a dignified way, as if she really were the best woman in the world. I looked at her hypocritical face, picked up the microphone in front of me, and gave a soft laugh. “Miss Vivian, it’s truly a shame your acting never won you an Oscar.” The entire room erupted. Every camera instantly turned toward me. Vivian’s face changed, and she lowered her voice to warn me. “Ethan, are you crazy?” I ignored her, swept my gaze over the reporters below the stage, and slowly spoke. “I invited everyone here today because I want to announce something.” “I, Ethan Hale, am officially breaking off my engagement with Miss Vivian Shaw starting today.” The flashes went wild. “Mr. Hale, is the engagement being broken off because of last night’s car accident?” “Is it because Miss Shaw showed favoritism toward Mr. Julian Grant?” Vivian panicked completely. She shot to her feet and tried to snatch my microphone. “Ethan is just throwing a tantrum with me. Please don’t misunderstand…” “Throwing a tantrum?” I sneered, took the recording pen from my assistant, and pressed the play button. “Vivian, are you really going to marry that man?” It was Julian’s voice, carrying a hint of coquettishness. “Be good. If I don’t get close to him, how can I take his money to promote you? How can I make him willingly become your walking blood bank?” “When I’ve squeezed his money and usefulness dry, I’ll break off the engagement with him and be with you openly and gloriously.” “By then, all of the Hale family’s business will be ours.” It was Vivian’s calm and cruel voice. The recording was very long, filled with countless moments of them coveting my property, plotting against my body, and mocking me as a “tool man.” Every sentence was like a sharp blade, cutting their hypocritical masks to pieces. When the recording finished, the whole venue fell into deathly silence. Every camera was aimed at Vivian’s deathly pale face. I looked at her, the corner of my mouth curving slightly. “Miss Shaw, are you satisfied with this recording?” “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you.” “The company shares my mom left me automatically took effect the day I came of age.” “In other words, the villa you live in now, the sports car you drive, and even the studio you’re so proud of were all bought for you with my money.” “Now, I don’t want to play anymore.” “So please pack your things and get the hell out of my world.”

As soon as I finished speaking, the reporters at the scene were like sharks smelling blood, and the room instantly boiled over. Countless microphones were shoved into Vivian’s face. “Miss Shaw, is the content of the recording true?” “Did you approach Mr. Hale only for his money and blood?” “What exactly is your relationship with Mr. Grant? Were you conspiring to commit fraud?” Vivian was blocked in place, her face changing colors more dramatically than a paint palette. She opened her mouth, but she could not say a single word. 【Hahahaha, public humiliation scene. So satisfying, too satisfying.】 【Look at that woman’s expression. She looks like she swallowed a fly.】 【The male lead is awesome. This counterattack is fast, accurate, and ruthless.】 I watched the floating comments, turned my wheelchair, and left the venue under the protection of bodyguards. The clamor and curses behind me became the background music of my victory. That night, tags like #VivianShawGetOutOfHollywood, #JulianGrantDramaQueen, and #FeelBadForEthanHale took turns dominating the top of the trending list. All of Vivian’s endorsements, film and television resources, and variety shows terminated their contracts with her overnight. The “serious award-winning actress” persona she had worked so hard to build over the years collapsed completely. What awaited her would be astronomical breach-of-contract penalties worth hundreds of millions. Julian was not doing much better. The lead roles in several major IP projects he had originally been in talks for were all recast. Netizens even dug up his old history of bullying classmates and demanded that he get out of Hollywood. Just when I thought I could finally catch my breath for a moment, my phone rang. Caller ID: Father. Richard Hale. I looked at the name flashing on the screen, and a hint of coldness flashed through my eyes. When I answered the call, Richard’s roar, suppressed with anger, immediately came from the other end. “Ethan, are you done making trouble?” “Release a statement immediately saying that recording was forged. Otherwise, I’ll freeze all your cards.” I leaned against the headboard and casually pinched my fingers. “Oh? So you still know I’m your son?” “I thought your only son was Julian.” The other end of the phone went silent. After a long while, he finally spoke coldly. “Don’t forget that Hale blood runs through your veins, and everything you enjoy was given to you by the Hale family.” “I had you get together with Vivian for the company’s interests, and it was also for your own good.” “Now that you’ve made such a mess, do you know how much the company is going to lose?” I laughed, and my throat tightened from it. “The company’s interests? For my own good?” “Dad, put your hand on your heart and tell me, did you really have me get together with Vivian for the company?” “Wasn’t it because Julian needed a walking blood bank who would come whenever he called, and Vivian was the most suitable ‘blood bag keeper’ you had chosen?” On the other end of the phone, there was deathly silence. Just when I thought he had nothing to say, he suddenly let out a sinister laugh. “Ethan, do you think you’ve won?” “Do you think that once you get rid of Vivian, you can get rid of your fate?” “I’m telling you, it’s not that easy.” “Julian is my son, and as long as I’m alive, you must serve him.” “Back then, your mother was willing to donate bone marrow to Julian for my sake. Why can’t you learn from her?” All the blood in my body froze instantly at that moment. My mom… didn’t she die in an accident?

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To scrape together the money for my sister’s treatment, I became Vivian Grant’s contracted lover for three years. For three years, I came whenever she called and threw away every last shred of dignity. I thought that as long as I was obedient enough and knew my place, I would eventually warm her heart. Until that charity gala, when I heard her chatting with her best friend, her voice full of contempt. “Liam Reed?” “He’s just a little toy I keep around with money, nothing more. He’s very obedient. Give him some cash and he’ll go away.” “The Sullivan family can help me secure the land in South Bay. Next month, I’ll get engaged to Ethan Sullivan, and when the time comes, I’ll kick Liam out.” At that moment, the last bit of love in my heart went out completely. In front of a room full of elites, I smashed the million-dollar watch she had just bought for me back into her arms, then walked into the pouring rain without looking back. A year later, I became a rising star in the business world, holding a project worth hundreds of billions, with admirers lined up all the way to France. But that once-arrogant heiress of New York’s elite knelt outside my door on a stormy night, soaked to the bone, crying in a hoarse voice. “Liam, I was wrong. Please, look back at me…” I looked at her through the floor-to-ceiling window and calmly instructed my assistant, “Call the police. Someone is harassing me.”

Late autumn in New York was cold enough to cut into the bones. But the charity gala on the top floor of the Peninsula Hotel was filled with elegant gowns and polished guests, warm as spring. I sat in the corner of the lounge, looking down at the balance on my phone. Mia’s medical funds were almost drained again. Vivian brought me here tonight, saying she was going to bid on something for me as a gift for our third anniversary. To be honest, I had been looking forward to it. It had been three years, and she had never brought me to a public event before. This was the first time. Footsteps and teasing laughter came from outside the door. “Vivian, that was a huge move. Thirty million for a limited-edition Patek Philippe, and you didn’t even blink.” It was Vivian’s best friend, Zoe Carter. “Ethan likes it, so what’s thirty million?” Vivian’s voice was lazy and careless. My heart sank hard. Ethan? That heir of the Sullivan family who had just come back from overseas? “But what about the one in your lounge? He’s been with you for three years. Even if he hasn’t contributed much, he’s at least put in the effort, right?” Zoe lowered her voice, her tone teasing. Vivian let out a soft laugh. That laugh, separated from me by a thin door, stabbed into my heart like a knife. “Liam Reed?” Her tone was indifferent, as if she were talking about some irrelevant object. “He’s just a pastime I can dismiss with money. His sister’s life is still in my hands. He wouldn’t dare make trouble.” “True. The Sullivan family has the core technology for the South Bay project, and you’re getting engaged next month, so it’s time to clean up those messy relationships.” I sat on the sofa, my whole body ice-cold. It felt like I had fallen into an ice cellar. Engaged? Three days ago, she had held me in her arms and murmured in my ear, saying that after Mia’s surgery, we would go to Iceland to see the northern lights. So it had all been a lie. I thought time had turned into love, but it was only charity after she weighed the benefits and losses. The door was pushed open. Vivian walked in wearing a couture gown, holding the velvet box with the luxury watch inside. When she saw my dark expression, she frowned slightly. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” She walked over and instinctively reached out to touch my face. I turned my head and avoided her hand. Her hand froze in midair, and her eyes darkened. “Why are you throwing a tantrum?” Her tone carried a trace of impatience. I stood up and looked straight into her eyes. “You’re getting engaged?” I heard my own voice, calm in a terrifying way. Vivian froze for a moment. Then she tossed the box onto the coffee table and crossed her arms. “You heard?” She showed no panic at being exposed and instead looked perfectly entitled. “The Sullivan family can help me secure the land in South Bay. A marriage alliance with them benefits the company.” She looked at me like she was soothing a clueless subordinate. “Be good. This watch is yours, and your monthly allowance will double from now on. Aside from status, you won’t be missing anything.” I looked at the watch gleaming with a metallic shine. Suddenly, I found it unbearably disgusting. “Vivian Grant,” I called her name. “Do you think my spine is made of money?” She sneered. “What else would it be? Have you paid your sister’s dialysis fee for tomorrow? Without me, you two would have starved to death on the streets long ago.” She was certain I could not leave her. Because I was poor, and because I had a sick little sister dragging me down. I took a deep breath. Then I picked up the velvet box on the table. A mocking curve appeared at the corner of Vivian’s mouth, as if she thought I had finally compromised. The next second. I threw the box back into her arms. Bang! The box hit her arm, bounced to the floor, and the watch slid out, rolling deep into the carpet. Vivian’s expression changed instantly. She glared at me in disbelief. “Liam Reed! Are you insane?” “Yes, I’m insane.” I looked at her coldly. “These three years, just consider them my wishful thinking. We’re done.” After I said that, I turned without hesitation, pushed the door open, and walked into the cold wind of the hallway.

“Stop!” Vivian shouted behind me. I did not stop. The elevator at the end of the hallway happened to open, and I strode in, pressing the close button. The elevator doors slowly shut, cutting off Vivian’s furious face. When I walked out of the hotel entrance, cold wind and fine rain hit me head-on. I wrapped my thin coat tighter around myself and stepped into the rain. My phone vibrated crazily in my pocket. They were all calls from Vivian. I turned it off, pulled out the SIM card, and threw it into a trash can by the road. I returned to the large apartment in the city center. Everywhere there was filled with Vivian’s presence. The walk-in closet was full of custom suits she had bought for me, and the shelves were lined with expensive skincare products in matching sets. I found an old suitcase. I only packed a few of my old clothes, several professional books, and a broken laptop I had used for five years. I did not touch a single one of those glittering luxury watches or designer bags. I neatly placed the black card, car keys, and access card Vivian had given me on the shoe cabinet in the entryway. Then I took one last look at the “golden cage” I had lived in for three years. With a bang, I closed the door. Dragging my suitcase, I took the last night bus. I arrived in the city’s poorest neighborhood. This place was the gutter of this glamorous city. The alleys were cramped, sewage covered the ground, and the air was filled with the sour stench of cheap takeout mixed with drains. I knocked on the door of a rental agency with a red light on. “What’s the cheapest room you have?” The landlady looked me up and down, then spat out a sunflower seed shell. “Top floor, no AC, shared bathroom, six hundred a month, three months up front plus one month deposit.” “Fine.” I paid the money and got the key. The room was only ten square meters. There was a wooden plank bed and a wobbly wardrobe. The wall paint was peeling, and there was a yellow water stain on the ceiling. I sat on the hard bed board, listening to the snoring and a baby’s crying from next door. It was very noisy. But I felt freer than I ever had before. Early the next morning. I went to the hospital. Mia Reed lay on the hospital bed, her face as pale as a sheet of paper. When she saw me, she forced out a smile. “Liam, you didn’t come see me yesterday.” “Yesterday… I had overtime.” I walked over and tucked the blanket around her. “Liam, where’s Vivian? She hasn’t come in a long time.” Mia asked innocently. My heart stung. “Mia,” I looked into her eyes and said seriously, “don’t mention her again from now on. We have nothing to do with her anymore.” Mia froze. Although she was sick, she was not stupid. She looked at my tightly furrowed brows and seemed to understand something. “Liam, is it because of me…” Her eyes reddened. “Am I dragging you down?” “Nonsense.” I held her ice-cold hand. “You’re my only family in this world. As long as you’re okay, I’m not afraid of anything.” After I left the ward, the head nurse at the nurses’ station stopped me. “Liam, the money in your sister’s account is only enough for three more days. Her targeted medication afterward costs fifty thousand per injection, so you need to find a way quickly.” “I understand. Thank you.” I walked out of the hospital and stood on the busy street. The sunlight was harsh. I touched the jade pendant hanging around my neck. It was the only thing my father had left me. I gritted my teeth, turned around, and walked into a pawnshop on the corner. “Final sale, one hundred thousand.” The owner studied it with a magnifying glass for a long time before naming a price. “This is high-grade glass jade!” I said in a suppressed voice. “Young man, the market isn’t good right now. The quality of this pendant is average, so that’s the price. Take it or leave it.” The owner looked like he knew he had me cornered. I closed my eyes. Mia’s pale face flashed through my mind. “Fine. I’ll pawn it.” With the one hundred thousand in hand, I immediately deposited it into the hospital account. That one hundred thousand would only last half a month. I had to find a job as soon as possible.

I thought that with my degree from a top university, finding a job would not be hard. But I underestimated Vivian’s methods. In one week, I sent out over a hundred resumes. Either they disappeared without a reply, or after I passed the interview, I would get a call the next day saying I was not a good fit. Then I went to a fairly decent internet company. HR handed my resume directly back to me. “Mr. Reed, if you offended someone you shouldn’t have, then don’t try to make it in New York. Go back to your hometown.” I clenched the resume, my knuckles turning white. Vivian Grant. She was trying to force me into a dead end and make me go back to beg her. I stood under the blazing sun, looking at the Grant Group building in the distance. It towered into the clouds, arrogant and untouchable. “Vivian Grant, don’t even dream of it,” I said through gritted teeth, one word at a time. If I could not get into a big company, then I would go to a small one. I would go somewhere that did not require connections, did not care about education, and only looked at performance. In the end, I joined a newly established real estate agency. The base salary was fifteen hundred, and the commission depended entirely on my own hustle. The office had no AC, the electric scooter was old, and every day I handed out flyers on the street under heat close to forty degrees Celsius. “Hi, are you looking to buy a house? There’s a new development in the South District, right by good schools!” I stopped a passing middle-aged woman and handed her a thick flyer. The woman waved me away in disgust, as if shooing a fly. “Go away, go away. It’s too hot!” The flyers scattered all over the ground. I crouched down and picked them up one by one. Sweat flowed into my eyes, stinging sharply. My white shirt was already soaked through with sweat and stuck tightly to my back. But I had no time to complain. After half a month, I was tanned and had lost ten pounds. But I had also closed three small deals and earned over ten thousand in commission. On payday, I bought a roast chicken and brought it to the hospital to eat with Mia. Mia ate until her mouth was greasy, smiling happily. Looking at her, I felt everything was worth it. Just when I thought life was finally getting back on track. Trouble came to my door. That afternoon, the manager suddenly called me into his office. “Liam, there’s a big client tonight who specifically wants to see that villa at Nanshan Manor. Come with me.” The manager rubbed his hands together, his face full of excitement. “Nanshan Manor? That’s a mansion worth over a hundred million!” “Exactly! If this deal closes, the commission alone will be over a million! You’re lucky, kid!” A faint unease rose in my heart. How could such a huge deal fall into the lap of a newcomer like me? But a million in commission was too tempting. With that money, Mia’s surgery and follow-up recovery fees would all be covered. I pushed down my doubts and followed the manager to Nanshan Manor. The moment I pushed open the door to the luxury private room. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze. On the leather sofa. Vivian sat with her legs crossed, holding a glass of red wine and looking at me with a half-smile. Ethan sat beside her in a custom suit, his face full of superiority. There were also several rich heirs from their circle in the room, all staring at me like they were waiting for a good show. “Ms. Grant, I brought him.” The manager nodded and bowed as he hurried over. I turned to leave. “Stop.” Vivian spoke coldly. Two bodyguards immediately blocked the door. I turned back and looked at her coldly. “Ms. Grant, if you want to buy a house, then look at the house. If not, I still need to get off work.” Ethan burst out laughing. “Vivian, this is the man you said had such a backbone? How did he end up like this?” He looked me up and down, taking in my cheap work clothes and sun-roughened skin, his eyes full of contempt. “I heard you’re selling houses? Fine.” Ethan took a stack of cash from his bag and threw it onto the table. “Drink these three bottles of liquor on the table, and I’ll sign the contract for this hundred-million-dollar villa with you.” On the table sat three bottles of strong liquor. The manager kept desperately winking at me from the side. “Liam, drink it! Ms. Grant and Mr. Sullivan are giving you respect!” I looked at the three bottles of liquor. I was allergic to alcohol, and if I drank that much, I could die. Vivian looked at me, her gaze carrying the charity of someone high above me. “Liam, as long as you drink it, this deal will be yours. Not only that, I’ll pay for all of your sister’s follow-up treatment overseas.” She was certain I would compromise. Just like every time over the past three years when she had used Mia to threaten me. I walked to the table. Ethan’s smile grew even more smug. “A loser really is a loser. For money, he doesn’t even care about his life.” I picked up a bottle of liquor. I twisted off the cap. Then. I flipped my wrist. Splash! The entire bottle of liquor landed precisely on Ethan’s custom suit worth hundreds of thousands.

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Cameron Lee is a man of rigid boundaries. In Manhattan’s elite circles, everyone knows his “no-touch” policy. For five years, I was the only exception—the wife who held the keys to his world. Until I didn’t. For the third time, our wedding anniversary comes up as an “incorrect password.” I have no choice but to call him. “Cameron, your tablet is acting up. You need to take it to the shop tomorrow.” A playful, high-pitched voice answers the line. “Mrs. Lee? Oh, I’m so sorry! I was playing games on the CEO’s tablet in his office yesterday. I may accidentally changed the password to my birthday.” I freeze for seconds, then hang up. When Cameron returns home that night, I toss the divorce papers onto the coffee table in front of him. He rubs his temples, his face a mask of pure irritation. “Why are you being so petty with a young girl? She’s inexperienced. What’s your excuse for being so immature?” I let out a cold laugh. “Then go spend your life with her and her ‘inexperience.’” Cameron leans down, picks up the papers, and tears them into shreds without even glancing at the terms. He drops the confetti into the trash, his gaze ice-cold. “Rebecca, you’re becoming completely irrational.” “I’m done discussing this, Cameron Lee,” I say, my eyes void of any warmth. “Our marriage was always a strategic merger. We have no emotional foundation. A clean break is the only way out for both of us.” My heart feels like it’s being pierced by a thousand invisible needles. It’s true that we were a business alliance, but over five years of living together, I had unknowingly fallen for him. But what does love matter now? There’s always a first time, and then a second. If I pretend nothing happened this time, what about the next? And the time after that? Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life swallowing my dignity? Gracie Day’s words today were a blatant act of war. Everyone in Manhattan knows that Cameron Lee doesn’t let women get close to him. He’s obsessed with his boundaries and personal space. When he was twenty, a maid’s daughter thought she could play a game. She took advantage of his drunken state after a gala, loosened his tie, and tried to frame a scandal to secure her future. In the end, he had both her hands broken before throwing her out of the Lee estate. She was never heard from again. Cameron has a severe “no-touch” policy. For years, I was the only exception. I was the only one allowed to touch his personal items—his tablet, his phone, his laptop. Even if I wanted to check his messages, he would just ruffle my hair with a tired but indulgent smile, telling me not to stay up too late. Well, from today, that privilege expired. The warning bells are screaming, and I need to cut my losses before I sink any deeper. … A suffocating silence stretches across the living room. We are in a deadlock. He knows my temper. He knows I don’t tolerate a single grain of sand in my eye. On our wedding night, I told him clearly: if he ever found someone else, I would step aside. No drama, no clinging. Back then, he held me so tightly I thought he’d merge me into his own skin. He told me we were a perfect match, a pair made by fate. He said that even without “love,” we could grow old together. He didn’t mind my touch, and I didn’t mind his. Compared to the useless, cheating playboys of the Upper East Side, I preferred him as my husband. For five years, we were the golden couple of the city. Every joint venture between the Lees and the Powells was a massive success. Three months ago, on Cameron’s birthday, I told him I wanted a baby. He had stroked my tear-stained face, moved by the intensity of the moment. “Rebecca, are you sure?” I had sobbed, wrapping my weak arms around his neck. I still remember that second—the flash of light in his dark, narrow eyes. Before I drifted off from exhaustion, something warm and wet dropped onto my face. Then, he pulled me into his broad, warm chest. “Becca… thank you.”

The memory snaps, and I force myself to bury those beautiful moments. I push down the bitterness rising in my throat and sharpen my voice. “Cameron, I want a divorce.” Long minutes pass, and Cameron remains silent, offering no reaction. I’ve always hated his silent treatment. I turn around and head upstairs to pack my things. Half an hour later, as I’m dragging my suitcase toward the door, Cameron finally moves. He blocks my path with his arm. “Rebecca Powell, you’re throwing away a marriage over the password of my tablet?” It’s been a long time since he called me by my full name. I take a deep breath and look him in the eye. “Yes.” His frown deepens. Maybe he’s thinking about the baby in my womb, because his tone softens slightly. “Rebecca, let me explain.” I don’t plan on giving him another chance, but I’m curious to see what kind of lies he’ll spin. “The girl’s project pitch passed the board of directors. She didn’t want a bonus. She told me she hadn’t played games in a long time and asked to use my tablet for a few rounds. So I agreed. The password has been changed back. It was a minor thing, Becca. I’ve already talked to her, and she knows she was wrong. She even said she’d come by to apologize to you in person.” “Be the bigger person. Don’t make things difficult for a girl who just graduated. I promise, I won’t have any contact with her outside of work.” I catch the hidden meaning immediately. “Cameron, you’re already protecting her? Do you see me as some malicious, jealous wife now? You two are ‘innocent,’ I’m the one being unreasonable?” “Becca, that’s not what I meant.” I let out a sharp, jagged laugh. “I don’t care what you meant. I’m getting this divorce. As for the baby… I haven’t decided yet. But don’t worry, even if I have it, I won’t use it to blackmail you.” I leave it at that, pushing past him and walking out of the villa. The staff are terrified, none of them daring to stop me. I take an Uber back to the Powell estate. I expected my parents to support me once they heard the story. The reality is the exact opposite. My father, Josh, chainsmokes one cigarette after another. “Rebecca, it’s not that we don’t want you to be happy, but our business relies entirely on Cameron’s investment. If you divorce him, he’ll divest, and the Powell Group will be underwater by morning.” My mother, Lailah, wearing an expensive face mask, scolds me for being ungrateful. “Cameron has been wonderful to you. He’s a provider. Don’t be impulsive and hand him over to another woman on a silver platter.” Even if he did have a little fun on the side, there’s no such thing as ‘true love’ in the elite world. Marrying into the Lee family was the luckiest thing that ever happened to you.” It all boils down to one word: profit. Over the years, my father’s poor management has brought the company to the brink of bankruptcy multiple times. Cameron saved it every single time. I thought I would be devastated. I thought I would scream. But I feel nothing. I look at them calmly and ask, “So, what do you want me to do?” Josh crushes his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’ve already texted Cameron since you arrived. He’s on his way. Go back with him and be a good wife. Stop running home every time you’re upset; it makes us look like a joke.” Lailah chimes in. “Listen to your father, Rebecca. We only want what’s best for you. Ah, also, Leo has his eye on a piece of land owned by the Lees. Make sure you mention it to Cameron. Ask him to do Leo a favor.” There it is. The reason I was raised as a bargaining chip was Leo Powell. My brother. The Golden Child.

Cameron arrives in ten minutes. His usually perfect hair is slightly messy, a rare sign of haste. He ignores my resistance and grabs my hand, offering my parents a polite, apologetic smile. “This is all my fault. I upset Rebecca.” My father immediately tells the butler to bring out the best tea leaves. My mother insists on cooking dinner herself to keep Cameron for the evening. And I’m just… there. A ghost in the room. No one cares how I feel. Just like that, I’m back in the car, heading back to Cameron’s villa. Before I leave, Mom pulls me aside and mysteriously hands me a small bottle of pink liquid. She claims it’s a “miracle” for marital intimacy. “Men stray not just because of the other woman, but because the wife fails her duties. You’re pregnant now, and Cameron has needs.” “Listen to me, Becca. This potion will make him obsessed with you again, and it won’t hurt the baby.” Instead of taking the bottle, I look at her like she’s a complete stranger. We share the same blood, but today, I finally see her for who she really is. Seeing me frozen, she forces the bottle into my hand. On the other side of the lawn, Dad is frantically trying to light a cigarette for Cameron. Cameron refuses. “Dad, second-hand smoke isn’t good for a pregnant woman.” Josh laughs awkwardly. “Right, right. My mistake.” The scene is absurd. … A few days later, Cameron hires a therapist for me. The therapist claims my “irrationality” is just hormonal shifts from pregnancy. Cameron returns to being the attentive, perfect husband, treating me with such care that I almost wonder if the fight was just a bad dream. But I’m not fooled by the staged sweetness. The coldness and impatience he showed that night left a scar that won’t heal. Every time I feel a phantom pain, I’m reminded of the truth. I can’t act like everything is fine, so I mostly give him the cold shoulder. As long as I don’t mention divorce, Cameron doesn’t get angry. He thinks I’ve been “tamed.” He has no idea that I’ve already booked a one-way ticket to New Zealand. I’m leaving him in a week. I’m leaving Manhattan. I’m never coming back. Not for him, and not for my parents. I’m done being used. I’ve also scheduled an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. It’s tomorrow. But Cameron is keeping a tight leash on me. Even when he’s at the office, he has bodyguards following me. I can’t tell if he’s protective of me or just the heir in my belly. The next morning, I do something out of character: I make him breakfast. He’s visibly surprised. In five years, I’ve rarely stepped into the kitchen, let alone made a full spread tailored to his tastes. After he finishes eating, I tell him I’m going for a prenatal check-up. He reaches for his phone. “I’ll push the morning meeting to the afternoon.” “No need. I can go by myself.” I take the initiative to help him straighten his tie. “Cameron, I’m not a child. I don’t need you or the guards breathing down my neck. Go to your meeting. I’ll call you if I need anything.” Cameron looks down at his perfectly knotted tie, then at me. After a moment of hesitation, he nods. Before he walks out, he reminds me a dozen times to be careful. Then he adds, “Becca, come home early after the check-up. Gracie spent half her salary on a gift for you. She’s coming over tonight to apologize.”

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My father is the Don of Marchetti family and tonight, seven of his men walked out of my mother’s bedroom. He’s standing in the doorway with his new whore on his arm. They both stare at my mother lying motionless on the bed. And he smiles like she’s the entertainment. “You used to look down on Bianca, Isabella. And look at you now, the great Moretti princess, not so high and mighty anymore.” His voice makes me want to throw up. “I think it’s time you let me make Bianca my second wife.” My mother doesn’t scream or cry. She forces herself up off the bed, every movement shaking. This time, she pulls the diamond pendant off her neck—the one he gave her the night he proposed—and drops it into the fire. The next morning, my father throws a wedding. Bigger than the one he gave my mother fifteen years ago. Three hundred guests from every family on the East Coast, all here to watch my father make his mistress official. I’m wearing a black dress. Nobody notices. Halfway through dinner, the lights flicker. The big screen behind the head table turns on by itself. It’s my mother. Naked. On her own bed. Seven men taking turns. The video is high-definition. Someone wanted us to see every detail. I lunge for the screen, trying to block it with my own body. “What the fuck is this?! Turn it off! TURN IT OFF!” The guests are laughing. Some of them are filming. Some of them are pointing at the men in the video and naming them out loud, like it’s a party game. My father’s face goes purple. “You like showing off so much, Isabella?” He’s on his feet, champagne flute shaking in his hand. “Fine. I’ll give the whole family a turn.” He snaps his fingers. “Take her to the Room.” I scream and throw myself at him. The housekeeper catches me from behind, one hand clamps over my mouth, and drags me out of the ballroom while my mother is hauled in the opposite direction. The guests’ laughter follows me into the hallway. “Once a woman’s been in the Room—passed around to every man in the family—she doesn’t walk right again. Wears diapers the rest of her life. Might as well bury her.” “Generous of the Don, though. Sharing his own wife with the boys.” “A Moretti princess. Soft hands, soft skin. Bet she moans prettier than the club girls…” The housekeeper drops me in my bedroom and locks the door from the outside. I sit on the floor in my black dress and ask her, “What’s the Room?” She whispers, through the door, “The worst thing the Marchetti family does to a woman, Cleo.” … I don’t sleep. By noon the next day, they let me see my mom. The smell hits me before I’m through the doorway. Blood. Sweat. Strangers. My mom is on the bed. Eyes open. Not blinking. Under the thin white nightgown they put on her, every inch of her skin is bruised. “Mama—” My voice cracks. My fingers hover over her arm; I can’t bring myself to touch her. I turn to the door to scream for the family doctor— The door swings open first. My father walks in with Bianca on his arm, both of them in fresh silk, both of them perfumed. Bianca makes a tiny gagging sound and covers her nose. My father looks at my mother the way you look at a stain on the carpet. “Isabella. Drop the act.” I freeze. “I gave the men orders. Nobody actually touched you.” He’s bored. “Stop performing.” I open my mouth and want to shout—she’s bruised, she’s bleeding! But my mother’s hand closes around my wrist to stop me, and she reaches under her pillow. It’s divorce papers. Already signed. “Dante.” Her voice is a husk of itself. “Sign them. I don’t want the money. I don’t want the house. I don’t want the name.” “I just want Cleo.” My father’s eyebrow lifts like he’s heard a child threaten to run away from home. “Don’t be stupid, Bella. Your father’s dead. Your brother’s dead. Your mother’s been dead for ten years. Where the hell are you gonna go?” I stare at him. So he remembers. He remembers that Uncle Rafael took six bullets covering his retreat in the northern territory war. That Rafael’s body is still buried under a warehouse floor in Buffalo because we never got it back. He remembers that my grandfather—the old Don Moretti—put a gun to his own temple in front of the Commission to force them to back my father up. He remembers kneeling in front of the Moretti family crest the day he married my mother, swearing on his blood and his bones: I, Dante Marchetti, will protect Isabella Moretti until the day I die. One wife. One love. No exceptions. But “until the day I die” is a long time. Three years into the marriage, he came home from a job up north with Bianca Costa. Said she’d saved his life. Said my mother needed to be understanding. When my mother grew tulips in the garden, Bianca said the pollen made her sneeze. My father had every flower torn up by the roots. When my mother got pregnant with my baby brother, Bianca cried and said that something terrible would happen to her if my mother kept the baby. That night, my father held my mother down himself and forced the pills down her throat. She bled through her dress and onto the rug. She screamed for six hours. While he was three rooms away, listening to Bianca sing. I bet he heard every second of it. But He didn’t move. That was the night I understood: my father—the man who used to lift me onto his shoulders to watch the fireworks— was already dead.

Like he’s afraid she’ll say the word divorce again, my father snatches the papers out of her hand and throws them in the fireplace. The paper curls. Blackens. Gone in three seconds. He sighs—soft, the way he used to sigh when I was little and skinned my knee—and reaches out to smooth my mother’s hair. She turns her face away. His hand hangs in the air for a long, ugly second. Then he yanks it back and his jaw locks. “Tonight,” he says, voice flat, “I’m taking Bianca to the Commission’s annual gala. Give her your Bulgari set.” “No.” I’m already in front of the bed before my mother can speak. “That’s my grandma’s. She left it to my mom. Nobody touches it.” Bianca’s eyes well up on cue. The tears actually slide down her cheeks; I have to give her credit, she’s good. “Dante, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m not worthy of the Moretti family heirlooms.” She presses a hand to her mouth. “It’s okay. Just let them laugh at me. I’m used to it…” My father’s face goes to stone. “Isabella. This is how you raised our daughter? Mouthing off, no manners, no respect for Bianca?” His voice drops. “Maybe Cleo should move in with Bianca. Learn some respect.” My mother’s face goes white. She pushes herself upright on the bed and puts herself between me and him. “Take the jewelry. Take all of it. Don’t touch my daughter.” Bianca’s mouth twitches. For half a second, I see the smile she’s trying to hide. Then she wipes her tears and says, very softly, “Dante, I’m scared I’ll embarrass you tonight. I’m just a club girl. I don’t know how to act around those people.” She squeezes his arm. “What if Isabella came with us? As my maid? Just so I don’t make a fool of myself.” The Don’s wife. A maid. To his mistress. In front of every family on the East Coast. My father doesn’t even hesitate. “Done.” … At sunset, they throw a grey servant’s dress through the door. I watch my mother peel off her silk slip and pull the cheap dress on. There’s not a clean inch of skin on her back. I’m crying before I know I’ve started. She wipes my face with her thumb. Then she pulls something out from under her pillow and presses it into my palm. A small gold cross on a thin chain. “Cleo, baby. Listen to me.” Her eyes are clear for the first time in months. “I’m not going to be here much longer. I need you to listen.” “Mama, don’t—” “Listen. When I’m gone, you take this cross. You get on a plane. You fly to Los Angeles. You go to Luca Moretti.” I know the name. The Don of the West Coast. The man who spoiled me rotten when I was little, who treated me like his own kid—until he and my father started hating each other for reasons nobody would explain, and he stopped coming around. “Show him this cross. He’ll know what it means.” Her voice catches. “He’ll keep you safe. He’ll do it for me.” “I’m sorry I won’t see you grow up, baby.” I close my fist around the cross so hard the edges cut my palm. I know exactly how worn down she is. She fought. God, she fought. When Bianca first arrived, my mother put her in an apartment across town—a nice one, paid for, just not in our house. The next morning, my father called it jealousy. He made her walk barefoot down Fifth Avenue in a silk robe to bring Bianca home herself. Six months ago, after the miscarriage, my mother came at Bianca with a kitchen knife. My father dragged her to the cemetery, stood her in front of my grandmother’s grave, and told her if she touched Bianca again, he’d dig the body up and dump it in the East River himself. Three days ago, somebody leaked Bianca’s old videos from her stripper days to half the families on the coast. My father decided my mother did it. That same night, he had her drugged and locked in the basement with a dozen men who’d broken family code, and he let them have her until morning. After that night, she stopped fighting. I lean my forehead against her bony shoulder. I can feel every rib through her cheap dress, and I choke on a sob. “Mama.”

Bianca isn’t done with us. At the gala, she makes a show of it. Snaps her fingers at my mother to refill her champagne. Drops a napkin and waits, smiling, until my mother kneels on the marble to pick it up. Every woman in that room watches the Moretti princess serve drinks to a stripper Dante picked up in a back-alley club in Atlantic City. When Bianca’s had enough sport with the crowd, she walks us out to the gardens behind the venue. There’s a pond. No witnesses. She tugs off one of her diamond earrings and flicks it into the water. “Go get it.” My mother doesn’t move. Bianca’s face goes ugly so fast I almost laugh. “Isabella. You’re my maid tonight. I tell you to do something, you do it. Go get it.” My mother looks at her for a long, quiet second. “A ring won’t change what you are, Bianca. You’re a mistress. You’ll die a mistress.” Bianca’s hand flies up to slap her. I get there first. I shove Bianca hard in the chest—she stumbles back two steps in her heels—and I plant myself in front of my mother. “Get the fuck away from her.” “You little bitch—” She swings on me. My mother yanks me into her arms a half-second before her nails connect; instead of my cheek, Bianca’s nails rake down my mother’s throat. Four red lines well up instantly. And for one beat—one single beat—my mother’s eyes flash with something I haven’t seen in three years. The old Moretti fire. The look she had in the photos from before she married him. Bianca actually flinches back. Then she remembers where she is, and she sneers. “You’re all bark, Isabella. No bite.” She turns to me. “Fine. Don’t get it. But Cleo’s marriage contract is sitting on Dante’s desk right now, and I get a say. Want me to recommend the Falcone man? Or the Romano heir?” The Falcone man is forty-three and on his fourth wife. The Romano heir is nineteen and beat a maid to death last summer for serving cold coffee. His father paid it off. My mother’s hand jerks against my shoulder. “I’ll get the earring,” she whispers. The water is freezing. My mother walks down the stone steps into the pond fully dressed. Her lips are blue inside of two minutes. “Mama!” Bianca slaps me. Hard. Then again, backhand. “Shut your mouth, you spoiled little bitch—” “What the hell is going on?” Dante’s voice. Bianca reacts in a heartbeat. She grabs my hand—drives my palm into her own chest—and throws herself backwards over the low railing into the pond. The splash is theatrical. Then Dante is in the water before his jacket is off, and he hauls Bianca out cradled against his chest like she’s made of glass. My mother is twenty feet away, drowning. A waiter from the gala—not family, not blood, just a kid trying to keep his job—is the one who jumps in and drags her to the edge. Bianca clings to Dante’s lapels and shakes. “I’m sorry, Dante, I’m so sorry—I shouldn’t have come tonight—” She sees me and screams, hides her face against his shoulder. “Don’t let her hit me again, please, please—” “I didn’t touch you!” I’m shaking. My cheek is on fire from her slap. “She made my mother get in the water for an earring! She called me a bitch! She’s been hitting me, look at my face, look—” Dante looks at my mother instead. Bruised, half-drowned, lips blue, barely breathing on the wet stones. For one second, something flickers behind his eyes. Something that almost looks like he still loves her. Then Bianca sobs against him. “Dante, please—I know she hates me. Fine. But to drag Cleo into it? To make a child lie for her?” She lifts her tear-streaked face. “I admit it. I slapped Cleo. Because she called me a bitch. She said I spread my legs for every man and insulted my dead mother.” Bianca’s voice climbs. “I was nobody before you, Dante, but I have pride. I’d rather drown than be treated like that—” She lunges for the railing like she’s going to throw herself in again. “Enough.” Dante’s voice is ice. “Take her to the basement. Twenty with the belt.” “No!” My mother throws herself in front of me before the guards drag me. “She’s mine. I raised her. Whatever she did—do it to me.” Dante looks down at her. Cold as hell. “Forty.” … The basement is cold. Concrete floor. One bare bulb swinging from the ceiling. My mother kneels on the floor. By the tenth, I’m sobbing so hard I can’t breathe. By the twentieth, my mom can’t even hold her head up. And I taste blood where I’ve bitten through my lip. I’m on my knees outside, screaming at the men, screaming at Dante, screaming at God— “Please. Please! She’s my MOM! Please stop!” By the end, she coughs up blood and collapses face-down on the concrete. I get her back to her room. I pay the family doctor double to come at midnight. Until dawn, I can’t hold it anymore and pass out beside her. I wake up again because someone is in the room. Dante. He’s kneeling beside the bed. He lifts the back of her nightgown with hands that are actually shaking, and a tear lands on her shoulder blade. He cleans the wounds himself. He whispers to her, voice broken. “Bella. Bella, why do you have to be so stubborn.” “Bianca’s a good girl. She saved my life. You don’t know what she did for me. You don’t know.” “Just let her have a baby. Once she gives me a baby, I’ll send her away. You and me and Cleo. Back to how we were. Like before.” I shut my eyes quietly. There is no “how we were.”

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It was our eighth anniversary party. I lost at Truth or Dare. My punishment? A full glass of 151 rum. The amber liquid sat before me. All eyes in the Manhattan penthouse locked onto Julian Vance. The taunts began. “Julian, time to be the hero!” “Take the fall for your queen!” After all, everyone in New York high society knows me. Aurora Hayes. Severely allergic to alcohol. Five years ago, one bite of a rum cake put me in anaphylactic shock. I ended up in the ICU. Julian stayed by my bedside for three days, his eyes bloodshot. He swore he’d never let me touch a drop of alcohol again. I looked at him. But Chloe, his new intern, sat beside him. She pouted, her innocent look now edged with challenge. “Oh? Does sweet Aurora get to skip the rules?” The party fell silent. Julian didn’t take the glass away. Instead, he calmly pushed it closer to me. “She’s right. A game’s a game.” He ruffled my hair. “Be good. I brought your EpiPen. I won’t let anything happen.” Triumph flashed in Chloe’s eyes. I didn’t glance at the medicine in Julian’s hand. My hand closed around the glass of rum. I tilted my head back and downed it. The liquor burned my throat like a blade. Julian was right. A game’s a game. This eight-year game of love was over. … The rum hit my stomach like a bomb. I grabbed the marble countertop. “Excuse me,” I muttered, stumbling towards the door. After my last ICU trip, my doctor’s warning was dire. He’d said it in front of Julian. For my allergy, pills were useless. Alcohol meant immediate throat swelling. I would need an injection and a hospital, fast. A mild reaction meant shock. A severe one meant death. Luckily, a private hospital was across the street. I could make it. “Aurora!” I reached the door when Julian grabbed my wrist. “It’s just a game. Don’t be dramatic. Here, take this. I’ll drive you to the hospital now.” From his suit pocket, he produced a sleek metal case. The cap twisted off as he tipped it into his palm. Empty. He froze, shaking it again; nothing.

Julian looked stunned. His head snapped towards Chloe. “Mr. Vance…” Chloe blinked, her voice trembling. “The… the stuff inside… I threw it out…” “I was tidying your suit jacket… I thought it was an empty, expired vitamin bottle, so I got rid of it.” Her eyes welled up as she spoke. My throat started itching and burning. My vision began to blur. Julian finally realized something was wrong, pulling me close. He glanced at Chloe, let out a sigh, and said, “Just be careful next time.” A bitter sting shot through my chest. I leaned on him, each breath a struggle. After eight years together, I knew Julian inside and out. He was a control freak, possessive of his space. No one, including me, was allowed to touch his things. When we first moved in, I tidied his study once. I organized some papers he’d left on his desk. He came home, saw it, and his face went dark. He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night. I sent over twenty apology texts. He read every single one but ignored them all. A midnight drive to his office, Beef Wellington in hand, was my last resort. All that effort earned me was a grudging, “Don’t let it happen again.” I learned my lesson that night. From then on, his things were completely off-limits. But Chloe, an intern for six months, went through his pockets. She threw away the medicine that could save my life. And all she got was a soft, “Just be careful next time.” The color drained from my lips. A frantic rhythm hammered in my chest. Then my legs gave out from under me. I slid down his body, falling to the ground. “Aurora!” Julian’s voice was sharp with panic. He fumbled, trying to lift me. The room erupted into chaos. Someone yelled, “Call an ambulance!” Chloe let out a piercing scream. “Ah!” The arms about to lift me paused. Then they pulled away, turning elsewhere. A sickening thud. My head slammed against the cold, hard floor. The crystal chandelier above shattered into glittering specks. Through the haze, I saw Julian’s back. He was bent over Chloe, anxiously checking her ankle. Something deep inside me snapped. A voice in my head spoke with clarity. This eight-year game of love was over. I had lost. Then, everything went black. I blacked out.

I woke up in a private VIP room. A nurse came to check my vitals. “Miss Hayes, you’re aware of your severe allergy to alcohol, correct?” I just nodded. She flipped through her clipboard, her tone sharp. “You knew, and you drank anyway? You were in shock last night. Ten more minutes, and you would’ve been dead.” My head cleared a little. I held onto one last sliver of hope. “Who… who brought me here?” She gave me a look like I was an idiot. “The paramedics. A server found you passed out on the apartment floor and called 911.” It was his party with all his friends. If even he left me there, why would any of them help? The nurse was still lecturing me. “Remember, you can never, ever touch alcohol again.” “I know. I’ll make sure she stays away from it.” I froze, my head snapping towards the voice. Julian stood in the doorway. Chloe stood right behind him.

She was wearing a cream cashmere sweater. It had a small, embroidered logo, a perfect match to the one Julian had on. That was the matching set I’d commissioned from a designer in Italy for his birthday. We were supposed to wear them on our trip to the Amalfi Coast. But Julian had always called the sweater “childish.” He never once put it on. Yet here he was, wearing his, while he’d given mine to Chloe. His eyes caught mine; he nervously tugged at the hem of his sweater. “Things got messy last night. A drink spilled all over Chloe’s silk dress, soaked right through. I had to take her back to the apartment to change. By the time I got back, the server said an ambulance had already taken you.” His explanation revealed an even crueler truth. The night I was being rushed to the ER, he took the woman who pushed me to drink to our home. Bile rose in my throat, but nothing came up. Chloe hid behind him, looking like a scared little rabbit. “Aurora, I am so, so sorry about last night. I told Mr. Vance this morning I absolutely had to apologize in person.” I didn’t say a word. My eyes were locked on the sweater she was wearing. My voice was ice when I finally spoke. “Take it off.” Chloe shuddered. Julian immediately stepped in front of Chloe. “Aurora, what the hell are you saying? She came to apologize and you’re telling her to strip?” My knuckles went white on the bedsheets. I gritted my teeth, my glare burning past him, fixed on the collar of her sweater. “I said, take it off!”

Tears instantly flooded Chloe’s eyes. She shot a helpless glance at Julian, then slowly unzipped the sweater. Beneath it, a vintage dress appeared. It was a vintage Dior. My mother’s hands had restored it for me, the same winter she was diagnosed with cancer. The chemo made her hands tremble. But from her hospital bed, stitch by painful stitch, she mended the torn lace and intricate beadwork. She told me she wanted me to wear it for our first dance at the wedding. “I might not be there to see it, honey… but if you wear this, it’s like I’m with you.” I remembered Julian making a solemn vow.  “I swear, if I ever hurt Aurora, I don’t deserve to live.” My mom just looked at him, sighed, and said nothing. After she died, I held that dress and cried for days. I thought at least I still had him. But that promise was now smoke. Julian’s eyes followed mine, landing on the dress. His expression changed. His voice was sharp, accusatory. “Why are you wearing that?” Tears clung to Chloe’s lashes as she bit her lip. “You said I could pick anything from the closet… I saw this one in the very back and just assumed it was… old…” Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the side zipper. “I’ll take it off for Aurora right now.” There was a sharp, tearing sound. She’d yanked the fragile antique zipper. The seam my mother had sewn at the waist ripped apart. A long gash now split the delicate satin.

“Chloe!” I shot up in bed, my eyes burning with rage. “Ah!” she shrieked, clutching the torn fabric to her chest. “I… I didn’t mean to.” “Enough!” Julian snapped, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Aurora, it’s just a dress. Did you really have to push her this far?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That dress was…” “I know. The last thing your mother gave you…” His voice rose, thick with impatience. “But she’s gone! It’s just a dress. Things get old, they tear. It happens. If you’re so attached, I’ll have a replica made. A perfect one. Ten of them, if you want! A hundred!” A white-hot rage flooded my veins. My grip on the sheets tightened; blood backed up into the IV tube. “My mother restored this herself! It’s one of a kind! You can’t buy that!” As we screamed at each other, Chloe’s sobs grew louder. “Please, stop fighting… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have worn your clothes. I’ll pay for it, okay?” She pulled out a cheap, worn-out purse and fumbled for crumpled bills. A twenty, a ten, a five… “Take this. If it’s not enough, I’ll give you my paycheck next month… and the month after…” She held out the pathetic pile of cash, leaning over to place it on my nightstand. The jacket slipped, exposing her bare shoulder again. Chloe gasped, scrambling to cover herself, her face a mask of embarrassment. His face filled with pity, Julian pulled a black card from his wallet. He threw it on the bed. “There’s two million on it. Buy all the vintage dresses you could ever want.” He looked down on me, his eyes like chips of ice. “Aurora, what have you become? Humiliating a girl over a dress, trying to shame her with money. You’re being irrational. Get some rest. We won’t bother you again.” He put his arm around Chloe and walked out without a glance.

Before she left, Chloe looked back over her shoulder. With a victorious smile on her face, she raised an eyebrow. Then she hooked her arm through Julian’s, right in front of me. The door slammed shut. I picked up the black card, tears finally breaking free. This was the card for our joint trust account. We’d made a pact to put money in it every month. It was for our future wedding, our first house, our global travels… our entire life together. And now, for another woman, he took it out without hesitation. My tears dripped onto the plastic, blurring our names. “Aurora Hayes” and “Julian Vance” bled together into an unrecognizable smudge. Just like our relationship.

I checked myself out of the hospital alone. I went back to our penthouse in SOHO to pack. Now that it was over, nothing was left for me in that home. The apartment was a rental. A clean break. I dragged out a suitcase and started throwing things inside. A folder tumbled out from the walk-in closet. I bent down to grab it and saw what was inside: a property deed. My whole body went rigid and I rubbed my eyes hard. The owner’s name was printed in sharp, clear letters: Chloe Miller. The date on the deed was three years ago. A sudden, icy dread washed over me. Chloe had only started at Julian’s company six months ago. An intern, who was immediately made his executive assistant. I’d questioned it. Making an intern his right-hand woman seemed reckless. But Julian said he’d seen himself in her. A kid from nothing who just needed a chance, just like he’d been. He never mentioned they already knew each other. He kept saying Chloe was just an employee. And I believed him. But looking at this, the lies started three years ago. The rot in our relationship had set in long ago. I was just now smelling the stench. Then, I heard a key turning in the lock. “Aurora?”

Julian’s face lit up when he saw me. He smiled. “You’re back. Why didn’t you call? I would’ve picked you up.” He didn’t explain why Chloe was behind him. He strode over to hug me, boasting to her over his shoulder. “See? I told you. Aurora can’t stay mad at me for long.” I dodged his arm and threw the property deed down in front of him. “What is this?” The smile vanished from his face. “Oh, that…” He swallowed, forcing a casual tone. “Chloe’s from my hometown. Her family is struggling. They wanted her to drop out and marry for money. No education, no way to survive in the city. So when she came to New York, I set her up with a small apartment through the company.” “But don’t worry, it’s just a loan. She’ll pay it back.” He shot a look at Chloe. “Right, Chloe?” I thought of her crumpled bills in the hospital. The irony almost made me laugh. “How is someone who pays for a dress in installments going to repay a three-million-dollar apartment?” Chloe’s face turned bright red. The innocent act dropped. “Who the hell are you to judge me? You’re the other woman here. Why shouldn’t my fiancé spend money on me?” She grabbed Julian’s arm, chin held high, pointing right at me. “Truth is, when we wore those matching outfits, we were meeting the parents. We’re engaged, and we’re setting a date.” The words hit me like a lightning bolt, the room starting to spin. I had prepared myself for him cheating. I had prepared for lies. But I never, ever imagined he had a whole fiancée back home. I stared at him in disbelief, my lips trembling. “Is that… true?”

His eyes darted away, unable to meet my gaze. “It was an old arrangement from back home. A promise our families made… But I swear, nothing happened between us! I have never cheated on you!” He sighed, as if making a huge sacrifice. “Since you already know, I’ll just be straight with you. The apartment is compensation for her.” “Why are we compensating her?” Julian just kept finding a new low. That apartment was worth three million dollars. Two million of that was my inheritance. My mother’s legacy. Another six hundred thousand was from my personal savings. Julian only put in four hundred thousand, and half of that was a loan. His face flushed with anger. “I’ve supported you for eight years! So what if you pitched in?” I gave him the seed money. My contacts were his first clients. I built the core of that company. He was just the face of the operation, and now he was claiming he supported me. The sting of betrayal faded, leaving only a cold numbness. I looked at him, my voice flat and steady. “Julian. We’re done.” I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave. His face tightened as he started after me. But Chloe grabbed his arm. “You can go. But you need to pay the rent first.” “This apartment is in my name. You’ve lived here three years without paying a single dime.” I stopped dead and turned back to Julian. Seeing he had my attention, his tone softened instantly. “Alright, stop making a scene. I just hadn’t gotten around to telling you. And let’s be real, Aurora. You’re twenty-eight. Who do you think you’ll find after me? Be smart, okay?” Right on cue, Chloe snickered. I looked at the man in front of me. He was not the man who knelt by my mother’s bedside and swore to protect me. At this point, I didn’t even care about the money anymore. I looked up at Julian, and a slow smile spread across my face. “Fine.”

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On Valentine’s Day, a $5,200 charge popped up on my credit card. I was still processing it when an unknown number called. “Hello, is this Ms. Tiffany Vance? I’m calling about the Valentine’s package from Mr. Jenkins. The Ecuadorian roses and the Dom Pérignon are out for delivery, and your 3-star Michelin dinner reservations for tonight are all set. Will you be at the office to receive the delivery?” I froze. Liam and I kept our office romance a secret for three years. Just two days ago, he held me close and reassured me: “Baby, just wait a little longer. Once I make Director, we can finally go public.” I asked the so-called luxury concierge, “Are you sure you have the right person?” The guy paused, checking his notes. “Let me pull up the details… It says here it’s from your boyfriend, Liam Jenkins. Is that right?” I nodded at first, but then it hit me. My last name is Vance. But my first name isn’t Tiffany. Tiffany was our new intern. The second she joined, she made sure everyone knew she was the CEO’s niece. By week one, she closed a massive client I’d spent three months chasing. Liam scoffed at her back then. “Total nepo baby. She only landed that deal by riding her uncle’s coattails. What’s the big deal?” I just smiled and let it slide. Turns out, he was playing the perfect boyfriend to someone else—on my dime. I let out a cold laugh. “Actually, swap those roses for a massive funeral wreath. And cancel that dinner reservation.” …… I hung up just as Tiffany strolled in, armed with a dozen aggressively expensive coffees. “Happy Valentine’s Day! My boyfriend wanted to treat the whole department to coffee!” She slammed a cup on my desk with a smirk. “Emilia, this is Blue Bottle. You’ve probably never had it, right?” My coworkers instantly swarmed her, kissing up as usual. “Your boyfriend is so good to you! Rich, handsome, and so considerate—he even thought of us!” “Seriously, Tiffany is literally God’s favorite. The CEO’s niece and she has a perfect boyfriend? When do we get to meet this dream guy?” Tiffany noticed my silence and seized the moment. She raised her voice so the whole office could hear. “Emilia, didn’t you mention you had a boyfriend too? What did he get you for Valentine’s? It’s awfully quiet over there…” She looked at me in pure mockery. “Don’t tell me… he didn’t get you anything at all?” A coworker scoffed. “Emilia talks about this guy every day, but have any of us actually met him? Three years, and not a single sighting. I bet she just made him up!” “Yeah, totally. Look at Tiffany’s boyfriend—the surprises never stop. Emilia, what has your boyfriend ever given you?” I shot a glance at Liam. Panic flashed across his face. He forced an awkward laugh, scrambling to change the subject. “Come on guys, leave Emilia alone. So she invented a guy to save face. It’s no big deal.”

My instincts told me something was off. Usually, whenever coworkers joked about my boyfriend, Liam would just ignore them and play dumb. But today, he was way too eager to brush it off. I checked my banking app, only to find my alerts under $1,000 were turned off. $388… $698… $999… Dozens of charges I never made. All from this month alone. So that’s why. No wonder Liam tried to shut them up so quickly. He was terrified I’d connect the dots. My blood boiled. I shot out of my chair. “Liam…” But before I could finish, Tiffany’s shrill voice cut me off. She walked over, flashing a smile as she looped her arm through Liam’s. “Everyone, let me officially introduce you. Liam is my boyfriend.” “I wanted to keep it low-key, but Liam didn’t want to keep me hidden anymore. He insisted on going public for Valentine’s Day!” The office erupted. “Wait, Liam is your boyfriend? No wonder I saw you guys leaving together last month!” “You two are literally a perfect couple! Wealthy heiress and handsome high-flyer!” “Come on, Liam. Don’t tell me coffee is all you got her for Valentine’s. Spill!” Tiffany giggled behind her hand, but her gaze cut me like a knife. “Oh, it’s nothing crazy. He just Zelled me $15,000 for Valentine’s, ordered 999 roses and booked a Michelin-star dinner. They’ll be delivered here in a bit, you’ll see.”

I stood there, staring at Liam in disbelief. Three years of a secret romance. He told me he valued his privacy. That he didn’t want to be office gossip. I respected that. I never breathed a word about us to anyone. But now? Tiffany just claimed he insisted on going public for her. Then what the hell was I? What were our three years together? Liam came from nothing. He sent most of his paycheck back to his family every month, and I never complained once. I figured he was strapped for cash, so I always picked up the tab. No big deal. It wasn’t until this moment that the truth hit me. He wasn’t broke. He just didn’t think I was worth his money. I bit my lip hard, refusing to let him see me break. Tiffany shot me a taunting look. “Emilia, what’s with that look? Aren’t you going to congratulate us?” Looking at her expression, it all clicked. She knew about Liam and me from the very beginning. She did all of this on purpose.

I ignored her, locking eyes with Liam. My voice cracked. “Liam, I don’t buy it. Tell me yourself.” Liam avoided my gaze for a split second. But he quickly squared his shoulders. His tone was cold and detached. “Emilia, I admit you’re attractive, but face reality. Tiffany is the one I love.” “Could you stop obsessing over me? It’s pathetic. You’re acting like a total stalker.” I scoffed. Thinking back, when Tiffany landed that massive client, Liam wasn’t sneering. He was jealous. Bitter that his own girlfriend was just a nobody. Bitter that a trust-fund baby like Tiffany wasn’t already in his pocket. At his words, the coworkers’ stares felt like daggers. “Jesus, Emilia. Did you seriously think you were Liam’s girlfriend?” “This is hilarious. Tiffany is rich, connected, and capable. What do you even have?” “Tiffany, your uncle is the CEO, right? Just have him fire this psycho. Sharing an office with her is gross.” I let out a cold laugh. “Fire me?” “Why don’t you ask Tiffany if she has the pull?”

Tiffany paled for a second. But the crowd’s flattery fueled her ego. She marched up to my desk, glaring down at me. “Emilia, do yourself a favor and just quit. I’ll pretend the whole ‘hitting on my boyfriend’ thing didn’t happen. Otherwise, I’m calling my uncle to get you kicked out!” I sat back down, unbothered. “Sorry, but I won’t be quitting. If anyone has a problem with me, there’s the door. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” “You—” Tiffany’s face turned beet red. “Fine, Emilia! Since you’re so desperate to humiliate yourself, I’ll let you see what a real Valentine’s gift looks like!” “If Liam is really your boyfriend, where’s your surprise?” I let out a laugh. A surprise? Bring it on. I’ll wait. Because they’re the ones in for a rude awakening today… Not me.

The office drama died down for now. I stepped out to use the restroom, only for Liam to corner me in the hallway. He looked impatient. “Emilia, was I not clear enough? Why are you still dead set on hanging around the office?” “Tiffany is the CEO’s niece. Being with her fast-tracks my career by ten years. And you? What could you possibly offer me?” I stared at him. So this was the real Liam. “You’re dumping me just because Tiffany claims to be the CEO’s niece?” Liam frowned. “Don’t make it sound so ugly. People trade up. I did nothing wrong. If you want to blame someone, blame your own family for being nobodies!” He turned and stormed off. I watched him walk away with a cold laugh. When I first joined the company, my dad—Robert Vance, the real CEO— wanted to put me straight into the executive suite. But I wanted to work my way up from the bottom. Just to prove myself. To avoid any special treatment, I kept my identity under wraps. After three years of grinding it out, my dad decided it was time. At the quarterly meeting, he’d reveal who I was and make me Marketing Director. I had planned to tell Liam today. Give him a Valentine’s surprise. I didn’t expect a slap in the face instead. Three years of my life, completely down the drain.

Back at my desk, I pulled up every charge Liam made on my cards. Especially all the times he secretly swiped my card to buy gifts for Tiffany. I screenshotted every receipt and built a detailed document. Right before I clocked out, a huge commotion erupted outside. Two coworkers rushed up to my desk, sneering down at me. “Liam’s gift for Tiffany is here, down in the lobby! Come see what a real gift looks like!” “I bet you’ve never seen anything this luxurious in your life.” They didn’t stop talking as they grabbed my arm, dragging me out. Instead of fighting back, I just went with it. After all, they had a point. I had never seen what a $5,200 funeral wreath looked like. I kind of wanted to see it myself. As we hit the lobby, a concierge’s booming voice echoed through the space: “Delivery for Tiffany? Valentine’s gift from a Mr. Jenkins.” I looked over. Inside the black van sat a massive object shrouded in velvet. Tiffany gloated before stepping forward, acting shy. “Hi, my boyfriend ordered this for me. Thank you.” The crowd buzzed with envy. A few even shot me mocking looks, hoping for a scene. The next second, the concierge yanked the velvet cloth away. Underneath sat a giant wreath of white lilies and chrysanthemums. The concierge raised a megaphone and blared: “One funeral wreath from your boyfriend, Mr. Jenkins. Sign here, please.” The room went dead silent. All the color drained from Tiffany’s face.

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On the eve of my promotion to Chief Healer, my Alpha, Leander, secretly submitted a medical deployment application to the Northern War Zone in my name. When I confronted him, he brushed it off. “Celeste used my computer yesterday and accidentally submitted it for you. It was just a little joke.” “Isn’t there a second confirmation? You could have rejected it.” Leander knew perfectly well that if I failed to respond within twenty-four hours, the application would be automatically confirmed. Once it went through, I would have to spend three years in the Northern War Zone, where whether I lived or died would be anyone’s guess. Not only had he kept it from me beforehand, but he had also called it a joke, as though I would be vicious for holding Celeste accountable. Seven years together, and in the end, they meant less than a pretty intern who had been hovering around him for three months. My heart went cold. I said nothing more and confirmed the deployment myself. I never expected him to regret it. … APPLICATION SUBMITTED. If not actively withdrawn within twenty-four hours, deployment to the Northern War Zone will be automatically confirmed for a three-year assignment. When I received the email from the Moonbound Healers Alliance about the Northern War Zone medical deployment, I froze for a second. Then anger surged through me. The documents I had asked Leander to submit yesterday were clearly for my promotion to Senior Healer. What came back instead was a deployment application. My phone buzzed. A colleague from the Alliance’s Human Resources Office had messaged me. Dr. Hart, did you submit the wrong form? High-risk territory deployment applications have a twenty-four-hour cooling-off period. You can still withdraw it. Leander and I had been together for seven years. As an Alpha, there was no way he did not know how dangerous the North was. He had almost died on the border himself. And now I was learning that he had filled out an application sending me there. Our Mate Bond ceremony was supposed to take place next year. I took a deep breath and called Leander with trembling hands. “I received a deployment confirmation for the Northern front. Why?” His careless voice came through the line. “Oh, that. Celeste came to my office yesterday to discuss the data and saw me organizing your materials. She said the Northern War Zone needed complex-trauma specialists like you the most, so she jokingly submitted the application for you.” He paused, his tone as light as if we were discussing what to have for lunch. “She just graduated from the Wolf Medical Academy. She’s passionate and impulsive. She was only joking with you. There is a twenty-four-hour cooling-off period, isn’t there? Just withdraw it.” Celeste. Again. She was the new trainee healer Leander had brought into the pack this year, and after I was promoted to Chief trauma Healer, she was the person most likely to take over my position on the project. Young. Pretty. And every time she looked at Leander, the worship in her eyes was impossible to miss. He knew that if the application was not actively withdrawn within twenty-four hours, it would automatically enter the review process. And once a Northern War Zone medical deployment was approved, it meant at least two years away. Yet he described it as a little joke. “If I hadn’t checked my email in time, that order would have gone into effect. Do you understand how serious this is?” My voice tightened. I could not understand why he had not told me earlier. Leander sighed into the receiver, the impatience in his voice obvious. “Elowen, when did you become so uptight?” “It was a joke. Celeste was going to remind you today anyway. Even if you had really missed the email, she would have told you tomorrow at the latest.” “If you want to report her, go ahead and report me too. I was the one who gave her access.” Then he hung up. I stood before the tall window of the Blackridge Pack Medical Center, looking out at the empty streets before dawn. For the first time, I felt as if I had never truly known the person beside me for the past seven years. Withdrawing the application would take only one email. But at that moment, I no longer wanted to withdraw it. I opened the border medical station database and began downloading epidemiological data, combat-trauma protocols for werewolf patients, and maps of local armed factions. A colleague knocked on the duty-room door. “Dr. Hart, someone is looking for you downstairs.” Celeste was standing in the medical center lobby with two coffees in her hands. When she saw me, she hurried over, her smile bright. “Dr. Hart.” She handed me one of the coffees. “I just spoke to Alpha Leander. He is taking the team to the Northern territories this weekend for a medical outreach program, and he invited me to be his assistant. Do you think it would be appropriate for me to go?” Her eyes were clear, her tone sincere, as though she truly wanted my opinion. It had been three months. Ever since this top student from Stanford Wolf Medical School had joined Leander’s project team, she had been doing the most provocative things with the most innocent expression. I took the coffee but did not drink it. “What do you think? You two have already made up your minds. What do you need my blessing for?” Celeste tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Alpha Leander said this medical outreach is important. But I was worried you might misunderstand. After all, you used to be the one who partnered with him…” “Then don’t go.” She froze. “Weren’t you asking for my opinion?” I set the coffee down on the reception desk. “That is my opinion. Don’t go.” Celeste’s expression shifted. Before she could speak, the elevator doors opened. Almost at the same moment, tears welled in her eyes. Leander frowned when he saw her. “Celeste, what happened? Did someone upset you?” “Alpha, no one upset me. I only came to ask Dr. Hart for her opinion… I was afraid she would be unhappy.” Celeste lowered her head, tears falling at exactly the right moment. “I just didn’t expect her to say she didn’t want me to go.” Leander patted her shoulder and comforted her. “It doesn’t matter whether she agrees or not. Since when do I need someone else’s approval to choose my assistant?” Then he turned to me, his eyes full of impatience. “Look how much Celeste cares about your feelings. And you? You’re still making things hard for her over the Northern application?” “She cares about my feelings? For three months, she has been bringing you breakfast and leaving caring notes right in front of me. She fights to sit beside you in meetings, posts ambiguous photos of the two of you on Instagram, and now she wants to act innocent? Who is she performing for?” “I am your partner. But everywhere she goes, she acts as though she is the one who belongs beside you. She has no sense of boundaries at all. She is trying to take my place right in front of me. Calling you ‘Alpha’ every other sentence–doesn’t it make you sick?” “She calls me Dr. Hart to my face, but behind my back she probably wishes I would disappear.” Celeste went pale. She even forgot to cry. Leander stared at me as if he were looking at a stranger. “Are you done? When did you become this cruel?” “Celeste is on my project team. It is my responsibility to mentor her. Why do you always have to make everything so ugly? It’s a normal professional relationship, and you’re twisting it into something dirty.” “Celeste is generous enough not to argue with you. Apologize to her, and this ends here.” I laughed from sheer anger. “Are you insane? You want me to apologize to the person who submitted a Northern deployment application for me? Impossible.” Leander pressed his lips into a thin line. “Elowen, if you insist on refusing to apologize, then the Mate Bond ceremony we planned for next year can be canceled too.” Looking at the man before me, I felt more and more as if he were a stranger. The way he protected Celeste made my anger seem like a joke. I lowered my eyes and said softly, “Fine. Then let’s do as you said. Cancel the ceremony. End whatever bond is left between us.” Shock flashed through Leander’s eyes. Celeste immediately looked as though she wanted to mediate. “Alpha, Dr. Hart must only be saying that because she is angry. Please don’t argue because of something so small involving me.” Leander came back to himself and gave a cold laugh. “Fine. Canceled, then. Don’t come crying to me in the middle of the night, begging to get back together.” He left with Celeste. Before they were gone, I heard him speak to her in a gentle voice. “Don’t worry. We have been together for so many years. She always comes around.” “I have spoiled her too much all these years. This time, she needs to learn a lesson.”

When I returned to the duty room, the computer screen was still glowing. Three hours remained on the withdrawal countdown. I began searching for the latest briefings from the Northern border medical stations. Last week, an ambulance had been ambushed and two healers had been killed. One treatment station, short on supplies, had been forced to choose which of the wounded could receive care. But it was also where the most advanced combat-trauma techniques for werewolf patients were being developed, and where the world’s best healers rotated through the front line. If I returned after two years, that experience alone would allow me to compete directly for a Senior Healer position. Maybe it was not so bad after all. In the past, to fit into the stable life Leander wanted, I had given up three chances to take high-risk territory deployments. Now, it seemed I no longer had to worry so much. I shut down the computer. A message from my best friend, Maeve, popped up. Elowen! I saw Leander and Celeste at pack social night! God, the two of them were practically pressed together during the game! She sent me a video. The lighting was dim, but I recognized Leander at once in the center of the crowd. Celeste sat beside him, her cheeks flushed. Someone shouted, “Leander, truth or dare? If it’s a dare… hug the nearest woman for thirty seconds!” Amid the laughter, Leander turned and naturally pulled Celeste into his arms. Whistles and cheers exploded around them. They looked so intimate that anyone would think they were the fated pair. My heart stung as if pierced by a silver needle. I replied to Maeve: I know. Leave them alone. Then I began organizing the documents I needed to take with me when I left. After all, there was not much time. I would depart in a month. Two weeks later, Leander’s beta delivered an invitation. “Tomorrow evening, Alpha is hosting a project wrap-up dinner at the Mooncrest Medical Exchange Center. He asks that you attend.” “I’m busy.” The beta looked surprised. “But you contributed a great deal to this project…” “I have plans.” He smiled. “You may bring a companion. Alpha specifically said he hopes you will be there.” Several colleagues looked over at us. I accepted the invitation. On the night of the banquet, Celeste stood at the entrance to the hall in a pink cocktail dress, holding a certificate for Outstanding Young Researcher. The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up and she hurried over. “Dr. Hart, you’re here. Today is the day I passed my probation. I was afraid it wouldn’t feel festive enough, so I begged Alpha to combine his project wrap-up dinner with my celebration.” Expressionless, I said, “Congratulations.” “Thank you, Dr. Hart.” Her smile was radiant. “We saved you a seat at the main table.” I found a seat in the corner. Leander came looking for me. His suit was impeccable, his face handsome, his expression cold. “Elowen, go to the main table. What are you doing hiding here?” “It’s quiet here. I like it.” Leander took a deep breath. “I have let you give me the silent treatment for two weeks. Are you not finished yet? Since when have you not sat beside me at a celebration banquet? All this over a deployment order that has already been withdrawn?” Several people looked toward us. I met his eyes and said nothing. I also did not tell him that I had never withdrawn the order. A familiar professor smoothed things over. “Dr. Hart, come sit with us. We have kept a seat for you.” There was indeed an empty chair beside Leander. Celeste walked over naturally and took it. Then she turned to Leander. “Alpha, this is perfect. We were just discussing next month’s Global Pack Medicine Summit. Now that I have become a full staff member, you said you would take me out to see more of the world.” She looked at me with clear eyes. “Dr. Hart should come too. The three of us can go together.” I lifted my glass of water. I remembered the night Leander and I returned from South Sudan last year. He had said he would definitely take me to the next global summit. “When the time comes, you need to take photos with those top experts,” he had said while helping me smooth my skirt. “Let the people who say you rely on me see that this is your own strength.” The way my heart had moved then was real. The way it had gone cold now was real too. “The two of you should go. I don’t have time lately.” The moment I finished speaking, Leander’s face darkened.

Halfway through the banquet, I went out to the terrace for air. Leander followed me and grabbed my wrist. His palm was callused from years of holding surgical blades. “Elowen, what exactly do you mean by this?” “Exactly what I said.” I pulled my hand free. Leander laughed in anger. “How long are you going to keep acting like this? Is this still about the Northern deployment order?” Clearly, from beginning to end, he had believed I was merely throwing a little tantrum. “I asked Celeste. She really did plan to remind you. Even if you hadn’t seen the email, she would have told you the next day at the latest. Stop being so petty.” I nodded. “Yes. You’re right. I should thank her.” “Don’t use that tone with me.” He released my wrist, his voice hard. “You are coming with me to the summit next month. We agreed on that.” Then he turned and left, the hem of his suit jacket cutting a sharp line through the air. At eight o’clock on the morning of the summit, I stood at my apartment window and looked down. Leander’s car was parked below, and Celeste leaned against it, occasionally glancing up toward my floor. I drew the curtains shut. My phone vibrated with a message from Leander. Come down. Do not make me say it again. I replied: Packing. Not going. Is the summit less important than packing? If you do not come this time, don’t regret it. After sending that message, he left with Celeste. That day, he posted three updates on Instagram. Every single one included Celeste. Brought a young researcher to her first world-class summit today. That spark in her eyes reminds me of the beginning. She got shy after a few legends in the field praised her work. Summit photo. New voices deserve to be seen. The future belongs to them. Comments from mutual friends appeared one after another. Is Alpha bringing a student or a mate? He is so attentive. Dr. Hart didn’t go? Did the strongest healing duo break up? Celeste really is talented. Alpha has an eye for people. Maeve sent me screenshots, furious. Celeste is absolutely doing this on purpose! You and Leander may not have gone public, but everyone in the circle knows you’ve been together for seven years. This is disgusting. Aren’t you going to do something? Was it disgusting? A little. But more than that, it was liberating. One intern had been enough to let me see clearly what seven years of love had been worth. The more I cherished him, the more he took it for granted. The withdrawal period for the Northern deployment order had passed. That was that. I began preparing my gear. High-risk territory aid was not easy. I needed ballistic armor, emergency healing kits, multiple vaccines, antimalarial drugs, and psychological training for battlefield post-traumatic stress disorder. But once my mind settled, it felt less like exile and more like a new beginning. Before I left, I asked Maeve to have dinner with me. Northern food would take some getting used to. I might as well start early. Maeve stared at me. “Leander and that intern are already acting like that, and you still have the mood to try new food?” “Why wouldn’t I?” I smiled. Work was work. Love was love. Whenever Leander and I had argued before, I had always been the one to make peace. But this time, he had crossed my bottom line. On the way back to my apartment, I even found myself humming. Maeve looked at me in disbelief. “Have you really let go? I saw Leander and Celeste’s Instagram. They’ve been interacting even more since they came back from the summit…” I did not answer. When we passed the old campus of the Wolf Medical Academy, I asked Maeve to go ahead and went alone into the ivy-covered laboratory building. The rooftop was where Leander and I had first met. Eight years ago, I had still been a wolf medical student. He was already the youngest regional director of the Moonbound Healers Alliance and the newly appointed Alpha of Blackridge Pack. That night, I had been harshly criticized by my mentor for a surgical error and had hidden there to smoke. He found me and led me to the railing. “Look down.” He pointed at the thousands of city lights below. “What is one mistake in the span of an entire life?” From a terrified wolf medical student, I later became the partner who worked most seamlessly with him. Before every dangerous mission, we often came here. Together, we discussed injuries, argued over treatment plans, and shared our breakthroughs. Leander liked leaning against the railing and looking out at the lights of the medical center in the distance. “Elowen, you’re improving so quickly that I almost feel threatened.” Back then, I had smiled at his profile. “Then you had better work hard. Don’t let me surpass you.” In our third year, in an interpack border zone, a breach appeared in the area under my responsibility and three team members were infected. Headquarters investigators accused me of negligence in front of an entire tent of people and wanted to send me back to the pack. Leander stood up and stepped in front of me. “I am the chief supervisor of this epidemic zone. I will take responsibility for every issue. Dr. Hart’s protective protocol carried my final signature. If anyone is to be disciplined, discipline me.” He bore all the pressure and voluntarily applied to extend his time stationed there as a remedy. After the investigators left, I stood in the tent that reeked of disinfectant and watched Leander’s profile as he organized medical reports. My trust in him and my love for him grew so full they almost overflowed. We got together after that night. Now, those memories had become sharpened silver blades, cutting deep.

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It was the day before Valentine’s, the day Julian Thorne had finally agreed to marry me. But that morning? He married his ex-wife instead. We were on our way to Manhattan City Hall. He suddenly pulled his Bentley over to the side of the road. I looked at him in confusion, but he just stared blankly at the traffic. “We can’t get married today. Isabelle is back with my son, Leon. His condition has gotten worse, it’s complicated. Lawyers advised us to remarry. It’s to simplify the medical decisions and get him the best treatment faster.” My mind went blank. He tapped his knuckles on the steering wheel, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s a legal formality for the kid, Ella. You’ve always been so smart. You should understand my position. Our lavish wedding at The Plaza is still happening. You’ll still wear the Cartier ring. Nothing changes between us except a piece of paper. My feelings for you haven’t changed.” I looked at his handsome but unfamiliar face and felt sick. I was about to tell him the news. That we were finally having the baby we’d always wanted. But now, this selfish bastard didn’t deserve to know. And like that, this marriage meant nothing. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “So, Julian… when you went to City Hall yesterday and signed a marriage license with another woman, did you think about what that would make today for me?” Julian finally turned to face me, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “Ella, don’t be dramatic. My marriage to Isabelle was always a business alliance. You know that. Reinstating it is for guardianship and medical consent. It’s the fastest way to get Leon treatment. Besides, you’ve always said you hate complications, right?” He was right. I used to swallow all my problems so he could focus on the chaos of Wall Street. He always praised me for being “independent and not clingy.” Now, the independence he praised was the knife he was twisting in my back. I let out a laugh. “So, to avoid ‘complications,’ I’m supposed to accept my fiancé is legally another woman’s husband, right before our own wedding?” “Julian, what the hell am I to you?”

He reached for me, but I flinched. His hand froze between us. He sighed, dropping his hand to his side. “Ella, after five years, does a piece of paper really matter more than us? I’ve given you everything. I gave you the best life. You know that. I love you. You’re the only one I want to spend my life with. Nothing has changed.” My mind flashed back to a year ago. We were walking past a baby boutique on Fifth Avenue. He’d pulled me inside, picking up a tiny pair of sneakers. “Ella, once we’re married, let’s have a baby right away. I can’t wait to see a little you, looking at me with your eyes, calling me Dad.” His excitement had been so real then. And this betrayal felt as real now. My hand moved to my stomach. I lowered my voice. “And the child? He gets your name, your insurance… and then what? What’s the plan for them, Julian? Are you going to stay legally married to her forever?”

Julian relaxed. He thought I was caving. “Leon’s condition is complicated. He needs long-term care, and Isabelle can’t manage it alone. I’ll set them up in an apartment on the Upper East Side. They’ll have the best care. I’ll only visit once or twice a week. Ella, I promise. I’ll spend most of my time with you.” I felt an overwhelming sense of irony. How can a man about to be married have two homes? Two families? His phone buzzed. It was his mother. The unshakeable matriarch of the Thorne family. He answered. “Mother. On our way. I’m bringing Ella to the estate in the Hamptons for dinner.” He hung up, not even bothering to ask if I agreed. He spun the car around and merged onto the Long Island Expressway. A glance from the corner of his eye, his tone shifting from demanding to desperate. “Ella, I know how unfair this is. I have no right to ask anything of you.” He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “But the wedding has been announced. All of New York knows. And my mother… she adores you. You know her heart condition. She can’t take a shock right now.” “I’m begging you. Just give me a little time. Let me get Leon and Isabelle settled. Let me find the right way to handle things with her.” He looked at me, his eyes swirling with an emotion I’d never seen before. “Tonight, can we have dinner with her? Please? Give me some time.” I stared at his familiar profile. For the first time, a chill settled deep in my bones. He was turning pressure into a plea. Disguising his selfishness as a necessary evil. He was painting himself as the victim, trapped and torn between two worlds. He was making a bet. A bet on five years of my love. My stomach churned again. I bit my lip and fought not to throw up on the leather seats.

The Thorne estate in the Hamptons was grand enough to feel unreal. As we walked in, Julian’s mother greeted us. Mrs. Thorne, elegant and imposing, took my hand. “Ella! The chef made your favorite macarons.” She didn’t know. In her eyes, tomorrow was a celebration. Her son was marrying the love of his life. At the dinner table, Julian was the perfect fiancé. He cut my steak, poured me vintage champagne. A flawless performance. “Ella, enjoy it. You’ve gotten too thin preparing for the wedding.” Mrs. Thorne looked at us gently. Julian froze for a second, then forced a smile. “She’s right, you need to eat.” He looked at me, his eyes a mix of warning and pleading. He was making a bet. Betting I wouldn’t defy his mother. Betting I wouldn’t humiliate this kind, oblivious woman in front of everyone. After dinner, Mrs. Thorne quietly led me to her study. From a safe behind a painting, she retrieved a velvet box. Inside lay a sapphire necklace that glittered under the light. It was the Thorne family heirloom. “Ella, only a Thorne bride wears this,” she said, fastening it around my neck herself. “I can see how much Julian truly loves you. He used to be so wild. You changed him.” She patted my hand, her eyes growing misty. “You two build a beautiful life. And give me a grandchild soon. With my health… I hope I’m around long enough to hold one.”

The cold weight of the sapphires pressed against my skin. My throat tightened. I swallowed the words of refusal, again and again. The secret pressed on me harder than ever. The grandchild she was praying for was already here, inside me. But her son would have nothing to do with the baby. Later that night, back at our Central Park West penthouse, Julian came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He smelled of scotch, pressing hot kisses against my neck. “Honey…” My body went rigid. Pure, physical revulsion washed over me. I shoved him off, bolting for the bathroom where I retched over the sink. He followed, gently rubbing my back. “What’s wrong? Was it something you ate?” I splashed my face with cold water, staring at my own pale reflection. “Julian. Don’t touch me.” His hand froze. His expression hardened. “Are you still on this? Ella, I thought you’d cooled off.” I turned, backing up against the cold marble counter. Putting a barrier between us. “So what’s my role in this perfect plan of yours, Julian? Am I the publicly adored Mrs. Thorne, with no legal standing whatsoever? Or a tool to help you cover up your dirty deal, to make it all look respectable?”

He lit a cigarette. His patience was gone. “I already told you. You can have everything but the marriage license. The company stock, this penthouse, all of my personal assets. What I have with Isabelle is duty. That’s it.” Duty. There was that word again. “And what about me? What’s your duty to me?” “With you, it’s love!” he snarled, as if he were the one being wronged. “Don’t push me, Ella.” His voice turned to ice. “You know how much my mother adores you. Her heart can’t take a shock. If we split and something happens to her… could you live with that?” A chill went through me. He was using her against me again. It wasn’t a statement of fact. It was pure emotional blackmail. Her health was her doctor’s and family’s responsibility, not a cage to keep me trapped. He saw my silence and pressed his advantage, exploiting my kindness. “You’re a good person. You’ve always treated her like your mother, right?” Yes, I’m kind. But I’m not a fool. “Besides,” he said, playing his final, brutal card. “Your father’s experimental treatments at Sloan Kettering… the millions of dollars each year. I am paying for that. Can you give him that care if you leave me?” First, emotional blackmail. Then, a financial threat. He knew exactly where to hurt me. My compassion, and my devotion to my father. I looked at the man in front of me. It felt like I’d never known him. Was the gentle man I loved now this monster, chaining me with money and guilt? “Fine.” I said, my voice hollow. “I’m listening to you.” Julian sighed in relief, moving in for a hug. “I knew you’d see reason, Ella.” I sidestepped him. His arms froze in mid-air. I pointed to the guest room. “But I don’t want to look at you. You’re sleeping in there tonight.” His face darkened, but he nodded, desperate to secure my temporary surrender. “Alright. Get some rest.” When the door shut, I sank to the floor. I cried.

To make me accept this absurd reality, Julian took me to see Isabelle. He drove me to our first apartment in Brooklyn. A tiny loft that held all our history. The hard years and the good ones. Now, it was home to his legal wife and their son. The industrial space I remembered was gone. Replaced with a warm, cozy family home. Isabelle was gently giving medicine to a small boy. She wore a simple cashmere set, no makeup, her blonde hair loosely pinned up. She gave me a calm nod. “Please, sit down. Sorry, the place is a mess.” The boy was five or six, pale and thin, but he had Julian’s eyes. He hid behind Isabelle, whispering, “Daddy.” Julian walked over as if I wasn’t there. He knelt, checked Leon’s forehead, and got him a glass of water from the kitchen. He patiently coaxed the boy to take his medicine, wiping a drop from his chin. It was a father’s love. That much was obvious. Deep, instinctual, and impossible to fake. I stood in the doorway, like a stranger intruding on their family. Julian took Leon to his room to show him a new toy. Leaving me alone with her. Isabelle handed me a cup of herbal tea and sat across from me. “I told Julian, you know. That this is incredibly unfair to you.” She sighed. “But you know how he is. Once he makes a decision, no one can change it.” She said it so casually. “He wants it all. The responsibility he can’t abandon… and the thrill he can’t give up. The most important thing is to take care of ourselves, right?”

Her words were meant to sound like comfort. But she was putting me in my place. She was the duty, the responsibility. And I was just the thrill. She picked up a silver frame from the table. A photo of their little family. She wiped a speck of dust off the glass, then gave me a sad, knowing smile. “He never let me throw this away,” she said. “Not even when we were divorced.” “Some ties, you can’t break.” My eyes went from their smiling faces to the sapphire necklace on my chest. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous. The whole thing was a sick joke. I didn’t say a word. I just got up and walked out. She didn’t try to stop me. Her voice floated after me, light and airy. “Ella, don’t blame him. And don’t be so hard on yourself. Give it a few years. You’ll get used to it.” Get used to it? Get used to this twisted, sickening arrangement?

The wedding planning continued, as if nothing was wrong. Julian thought I had accepted it. He was back to being gentle and attentive, desperate to please me. “Ella, how do you like this Vera Wang gown? I had it rushed in just for you. And the ring, I had Harry Winston’s designer upgrade it to ten carats.” He was trying to cover his lies with expensive gifts. He took me to the gallery to pick up our engagement portrait. A giant, framed photo of us kissing on a beach at sunset. In the picture, I was smiling, thinking I was the luckiest woman. Now, the sight of that smile made my stomach turn. Julian pointed at it, mesmerized. “See, Ella? We’re made for each other. I’ll give you the world, I promise. Everything you could ever want.” I stared at that fake smile, and another wave of nausea washed over me. “I need the bathroom.” I ran, hunched over the toilet, and dry-heaved until my throat burned. Only bitter acid came up. The date on my ultrasound report flashed in my mind. I had been pregnant for almost three months.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Julian had his back to me. He was on the phone, his voice a low murmur. But I still heard every word. “…Isabelle, stop it. I can’t get away right now.” “Leon’s running a fever again? Did you give him his medicine?” “Okay, okay, I’m on my way. Don’t panic. I’ll stop by Magnolia Bakery and get his favorite cupcakes.” It was Isabelle. Even now, in the middle of our wedding plans. All she had to do was mention their son. And he was gone. He hung up, turning to see me standing there. Panic flashed across his face. Then it was gone. He walked toward me, looking regretful. “Honey, something urgent came up at work. A major client just flew in from Europe. I have to go.” I didn’t call out his lie. I held his gaze. “Julian, do you remember what day it is?” He looked at me, completely blank. He’d forgotten. I answered for him. “It’s my birthday.” Guilt washed over his features as he rushed to fix it. “Oh god, Ella, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so busy.” “What do you want? We’ll go to Fifth Avenue right now, you can have anything.” He reached for my hand. I took a step back and shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. You have an emergency. You should go.” He looked relieved that I was being so “understanding.” He kissed my forehead and left. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. A huge party when I get back. Wait for me.” He grabbed his car keys and rushed out the door. He never looked back.

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