“Chloe is pregnant,” Julian said, his voice barely a whisper, standing in the dim shadows of the wedding rehearsal hall. “The wedding goes on as scheduled. After we’re married, I’ll just spend a few days a week taking care of her. Once she’s stable, everything will go back to normal.” I clenched the velvet ring box, my knuckles turning white. “And what about me? What am I in this little arrangement of yours?” “You’re my fiancée. Tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs. Carter.” He frowned, looking at me as if he were trying to reason with a spoiled, throwing-a-tantrum child. “Isn’t that title enough for you?” Chloe stood nearby, wearing an oversized coat that perfectly accentuated her pale, fragile face. She chimed in softly, “Natalie, please. I’m not trying to steal the title of Mrs. Carter from you. I just… I just want my baby to have a father.” I placed the ring box quietly on the table. “Then whoever wants this title can have it.” A man who had already been touched by someone else? I didn’t want him anymore. *** **1** **Natalie Vance’s POV** I was supposed to marry Julian Carter, the man I had loved for years. I had spent the last six months obsessing over every detail of this wedding, down to the exact shade of the customized crystal glasses for our new home. But tonight, during our wedding rehearsal, the giant screen in the ballroom suddenly flickered, playing an unnamed video file. On the screen, Chloe Sterling—Julian’s childhood best friend—was gently rubbing her barely visible baby bump, her voice dripping with sweet innocence: “Julian, the doctor said the baby is doing great. Don’t drink too much at the wedding tomorrow. You promised me you’d spend a few days a week with us after you’re married. Don’t you dare forget.” In the top right corner of the screen, Julian’s contact name for her was saved as: *My Chloe & Baby*. The entire ballroom fell dead silent. Julian, who had arrived late, didn’t even look panicked. He just frowned at me and said, “Don’t make a scene here. Don’t make us a laughingstock.” I stood in the shadows, the corners of the ring box digging painfully into my palm. One of Julian’s groomsmen quickly tried to save face, awkwardly laughing as he blocked the projector. “Hey, this is just a misunderstanding! Chloe’s just joking around like she always does. Natalie, don’t take it to heart. Chloe grew up with us. She’s just a close friend!” The next second, the doors to the hall pushed open, and Chloe walked in. She was wearing an oversized beige coat, holding a thermos, looking perfectly pale and vulnerable. Seeing me, she managed a fragile smile. “Natalie, don’t be upset. Julian and I… it’s really not what you think. The baby was an accident. I never wanted to come between you two.” “An accident?” I asked, my voice calm but cold. Julian stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Stop it, Natalie. There are too many people here tonight.” I looked up at him. “She’s pregnant with your child, and you’re telling me to stop?” Julian scowled, as if my reaction was incredibly uncalled for. “I wasn’t planning on keeping it from you. But now that the baby is here, I can’t just abandon them. The wedding will go on. After we’re married, I’ll spend a few days a week taking care of her. Once she’s stable, everything will go back to how it was.” Chloe chimed in right on cue. “Yes, Natalie, please don’t worry. I won’t steal your place. I’m not greedy. I just want my baby to have a father.” “And what about me?” I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “What am I in this perfect little plan of yours?” Losing his patience, Julian snapped, “You’re my fiancée. Tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs. Carter. Isn’t that enough? Chloe has no family left. I’m just helping her out. Why do you have to act like such a victim?” Around me, some of Julian’s relatives started whispering. They murmured that a man making one mistake before marriage wasn’t the end of the world, that Julian was being honest now, and that since Chloe was being so ‘sensible,’ I shouldn’t make things difficult. I placed the ring box on the table. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was crystal clear. “The wedding is cancelled.” Julian’s face darkened instantly. “Natalie Vance, think carefully before you speak.” “I have thought about it.” I grabbed my designer clutch, stepping around him. “You two can keep rehearsing. Enjoy the show.” As I reached the exit, my phone buzzed. Tristan Brooks’s voice came through the speaker, laced with a rare, tense urgency. “Natalie, if you don’t want to marry him, walk out. Now. I’m parked right outside.” The cold night air hit my face, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. “Wait for me,” I whispered. Standing at the end of the corridor, I called the wedding coordinator. “Don’t open the bridal suite tomorrow. Cancel every single event associated with my name. If there are any cancellation fees, send the bill directly to my email.” The coordinator’s voice shook with panic. “Miss Vance, are you sure we can’t work this out?” I stared at my reflection in the glass window. My makeup was still flawless, but I felt entirely hollowed out. “There’s nothing to work out. The groom has someone else to take care of now. I’m stepping aside.” After hanging up, I opened the wedding group chat on Snapchat. People were still texting about arrival times, joking about Julian not drinking too much tonight. I renamed the group to *Wedding Cancelled* and left the chat. “Go find someone else who’s ‘broad-minded’ enough to be your Mrs. Carter.” With that, I threw the ring box onto the console table. It made a sharp clatter. “We are done.” Ignoring Julian’s furious face, I turned my back on him. I sent one final message to the Snapchat wedding group: *Wedding is off.* Then, I blocked everyone and left the group. *** **2** **Natalie Vance’s POV** The moment I stepped out of the hotel lobby, Tristan’s black Maybach was already idling at the curb. “If you really want out, get in,” Tristan said, looking at me through the open window. That was all he said. No judgment, just safety. My eyes burned as I pulled open the door. “I need to go back to the penthouse to get my passport and papers.” That penthouse was a place I had poured my heart into for six months. But when I pushed the door open, the foyer was cluttered with baby sleeping bags and unopened boxes of prenatal vitamins. Julian’s mother, Victoria Carter, was busy directing the movers to clear out the guest bedroom. Seeing me walk in, she smiled as if nothing had happened. “Oh, Natalie, perfect timing. Chloe is in her first trimester, and she has no one to look after her. I’m having her move in here for a few weeks. You’re going to be the real Mrs. Carter, so you need to be understanding. A good wife keeps the peace at home.” I stared at her coldly. “This is my wedding home with Julian.” “The Carter family trust bought this place, and Chloe is carrying a Carter heir. What’s wrong with her staying here for a bit?” Victoria’s smile vanished, replaced by an icy glare. “Julian is an incredibly successful man. It’s only natural for men like him to have distractions. Do you really not understand how high society works?” “Then go find someone who does, and let her marry your son.” I didn’t waste another breath. I walked straight into the master bedroom, packing my passport, ID, and important documents into a suitcase. Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway. Julian burst into the room, his face pale with rage as he slammed his hand against the doorframe to block me. “How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum? If you walk out that door tonight, what are we supposed to do tomorrow?” “Did you think about what I was supposed to do when you let Chloe move into our home?” I shoved past him, my eyes filled with absolute disgust. “I am not throwing a tantrum, Julian. I am leaving. Did you honestly expect me to stay, give up my guest room, drive her to her OB-GYN appointments, and smile while taking care of her?” Victoria piped up from the living room, “Chloe is pregnant! Watch your mouth, Natalie!” “That’s why I’m leaving!” I snapped back. Julian didn’t believe I would actually walk away. Everyone in our social circle knew I had chased him for four years. I was the one who brought him homemade soup when he worked late, the one who remembered every single food allergy he had, and the one who kept track of his family’s birthdays. Julian was used to my gentle nature. He was used to me hiding my own scars just to keep him happy. He reached out to grab my suitcase. “Go stay at a hotel tonight to cool off. The makeup artists are coming at six in the morning.” I pulled the suitcase back, out of his reach. “Cancel them.” “Natalie Vance,” Julian warned, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Don’t make me say something ugly in front of my mother.” “Go ahead. I’d love to hear it too.” Tristan’s voice cut through the tension. He walked out of the elevator and casually took the handle of my suitcase. Julian’s face contorted the moment he saw him. “What the hell are you doing here?” “Picking her up,” Tristan replied smoothly. “She doesn’t want to stay here, so I’m taking her with me.” Julian let out a harsh laugh. “This is between me and my fiancée. Since when do you get a say, Tristan?” Tristan looked down at me. “Is he still your fiancé?” My answer was instant. “No.” Victoria stood up, trembling with rage. “Natalie! Do you have any idea what you are doing? Marriage isn’t a game. If you run off with another man tonight, do you know what people will say about you tomorrow?” “They’ll say I found out my fiancé got another woman pregnant before the wedding, and I was smart enough to trash the trash.” I looked her dead in the eye. “I’m perfectly fine with that.” Julian stared at me, a cold smile forming on his lips. “Trash the trash? Natalie, you’re talking tough right now, but don’t come crying back to me in two days.” I didn’t look back. Julian lunged forward to grab my wrist. “Natalie, I said don’t leave with him!” I stepped back, slapping his hand away with utter disgust. “Don’t touch me. You make me sick.” The elevator doors slowly slid shut, completely locking away Julian’s furious, panicked face. Only when the elevator began to descend did my tense shoulders finally drop. Tristan stood beside me. After a long silence, he asked softly, “Does it hurt?” “Where?” “Everywhere.” I looked up at him, tears finally threatening to spill. I forced them back, whispering, “Even if it hurts, I’m never going back.” Tristan switched the suitcase to his other hand. “Then we don’t look back.” The next morning, the Carter family tried to push through with the wedding anyway. Victoria kept calling my mother, screaming about how I was ruining their family’s reputation. My father took the phone and gave a cold, single-sentence reply: “The wedding is cancelled. Never contact my daughter again.” Julian tried to call me, but his number was already blocked. He used his assistant’s phone to dial. This time, Tristan answered. “She’s resting,” Tristan said. “Mr. Carter, stop calling.” Julian roared through the speaker, “Put her on the phone!” “Why should I?” Tristan paused, his voice like ice. “You owe her some peace.” He hung up. Richard Carter tried to call my father to negotiate. He barely got half a sentence out before my father cut him off. “My daughter is not marrying into your family,” my father said. “If the Carters feel humiliated, you should ask your son what he chose to display on the screen at the wedding rehearsal.” *** **3** **Natalie Vance’s POV** The news of the cancelled wedding spread through high society like wildfire. Some said I was too dramatic, while others said Julian had crossed a line. Most people stayed quiet, waiting to see if the Vance and Carter families would officially go to war. I didn’t make any public statements. I slept for a full twelve hours in the penthouse apartment Tristan had lent me. When I woke up, I texted my parents to let them know I was safe, and then I settled all the remaining bills with the wedding vendors. The wedding was off, but the florists, photographers, and coordinators had worked hard. I wasn’t going to let my personal disaster affect innocent people. The lead florist called me, her voice incredibly tentative. “Miss Vance, the floral arrangements for the main stage are still fresh. Would you like us to repurpose them for a charity gala instead? Didn’t you mention the Vance Foundation has an event next week?” I held the phone, quiet for a moment. “Yes. Do that. But change the theme completely. No wedding colors.” When Tristan walked out of the kitchen holding a bowl of warm oatmeal, I was busy typing out a checklist on my iPad. “You’re not resting?” he asked. “Someone has to clean up the mess.” I handed him the tablet. “The hotel is taken care of. If the Carters try to harass me, tell them to talk to my father’s lawyers.” Tristan scanned the list, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re much more resilient than I expected.” I smiled faintly. “I used to spend all my resilience keeping Julian happy.” That afternoon, Chloe posted on Instagram. It was a photo of her sitting in a hospital corridor, a warm latte in hand. The caption was short but pointed: *Sometimes, true companionship doesn’t need a legal title. Those who understand, understand.* A mutual friend immediately sent me a screenshot. I looked at it and didn’t bother replying. But then, Julian called me from an unknown number. “What exactly do you want, Natalie?” he demanded the second I picked up. “You cancelled the wedding, made our guests fly in for nothing, and the hotel deposit is gone. Are you happy now?” I replied calmly, “I paid the vendors in full.” Julian choked on his words for a second, then hissed, “You think throwing money around makes you right? Chloe almost had a miscarriage today because of the stress, and you haven’t even called to ask how she is!” I actually laughed. “What does her baby have to do with me?” “You know she has no one else!” “She has you,” I said. “Julian, you don’t get to play the doting father for her child while demanding I play the understanding fiancée. I’m out of the game. You’re free.” Silence fell over the line. Julian’s tone finally softened, a hint of desperation creeping in. “Natalie… I never wanted to lose you.” “But every single thing you did ensured that you would.” I hung up and blocked the number. Tristan stood by the kitchen counter. Seeing me set the phone down, he asked, “What do you want for dinner?” No lectures. No analysis of what I should do. No telling me to “be the bigger person.” Just a simple question about dinner. My nose tickled, and my eyes grew warm. “Something sweet.” Tristan rolled up his sleeves. “You got it. I’m cooking tonight.” Halfway through the delicious dinner, I suddenly stopped eating. Tristan looked up. “Stomach hurt?” I shook my head. “I was just thinking… was I really that easy to appease before?” Whenever Julian told me I was being “annoying,” I would immediately doubt myself and think I was being too sensitive. Whenever he bought me a generic holiday gift, I would instantly forgive him for ignoring me for days. I used to call it “making compromises for love.” Looking back, I was just managing his bad temper for him. Tristan didn’t trash-talk Julian. He just said, “That wasn’t your fault, Natalie. The fault lies with the person who knew how easily you loved him, and chose to hurt you anyway.” I took a sip of the warm soup, the rich flavor making my throat tight. I refused to cry, so I forced a laugh. “Since when did you become such a smooth talker?” Tristan’s hand paused. “I’ve had practice.” “With who?” “With someone I’ve been trying to win over,” he said, staring directly into my eyes. “For a very long time.” As Tristan cleared the table, I sat there in silence. I suddenly remembered the first time I brought Julian home to meet my parents. My mother had pulled me aside and asked, “Does he treat you well, sweetheart?” Back then, I defended him fiercely, saying he just wasn’t good with words, and that successful men always had a bit of a temper. Now, I realized those weren’t explanations. They were excuses I made to protect my own pride. “What are you thinking about?” Tristan asked. I looked up. “I think my mom saw right through him back then. She just didn’t want to break my heart.” Tristan set a warm mug of tea next to my hand. “Well, you don’t have to make excuses for anyone anymore.” *** **4** **Julian Carter’s POV** The reality didn’t hit me until the third day. When I went back to our penthouse, the security code had been changed. The building manager informed me that Miss Vance had authorized her lawyers to handle her half of the property, and all her personal belongings had been moved out overnight. I stood in the empty hallway, holding a box of the tiramisu Natalie loved. In the past, whenever I bought her something sweet, she would always forgive me. She would nag me for a bit, but then she’d open the door, hang up my coat, and ask if I wanted a glass of water. But this time, there were no lights on inside. No one was waiting. I called our mutual friends. One of them sighed over the phone. “Julian, you really messed up this time. Natalie’s family handled all the cancellation logistics. They didn’t even ask the Carters to pay for a single dime. They were incredibly classy about it.” I snapped, “Where is she?” “I don’t know. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” The line went dead. I sat in my car, my chest tightening. My phone buzzed—it was Chloe. She said she had no appetite and wanted the creme brulee from that bakery uptown. I ignored it. Chloe quickly sent a string of texts: *Are you blaming me, Julian? If it weren’t for me, Natalie wouldn’t have left. But the baby is kicking, and I’m so scared.* Staring at the word “baby,” my head throbbed. I had never intended to shirk my responsibility. That night at the college reunion, everyone had had too much to drink. Chloe had cried on my shoulder, talking about how lonely she was, asking me to just hold her for a while. I remembered pushing her away at first. I also remembered waking up next to her. She had smiled through her tears, saying, “It’s okay, Julian. It was just a one-night stand. Let’s just pretend it never happened.” I believed her. Or rather, I wanted to believe her. Because as long as I kept calling her my “friend,” I didn’t have to admit to myself how dirty the situation was. But now that Natalie was gone, that excuse sounded pathetic even to my own ears. That evening, my father, Richard, called me into his study. The Vance family’s lawyer was already sitting there. He pushed a stack of legal documents toward me. “Miss Vance’s terms are clear. Since no marriage license was filed, this is a simple dissolution of an engagement. She has covered all wedding expenses. Here is the list of gifts exchanged during the engagement; everything from the Carter family will be returned to your address.” My mother, Victoria, slammed her hand on the table. “What is she trying to do? Is she trying to run off with another man?” The lawyer raised an eye, his tone polite but firm. “Mrs. Carter, watch your words. Miss Vance is currently single. Who she associates with is none of Mr. Carter’s business.” I stared at the paperwork, my fingers turning numb. “Tell her to come say that to my face.” The lawyer capped his pen. “She has no desire to see you.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Fine. Let’s see how long she can hide.” After the lawyer left, my mother continued to rant about how heartless the Vance family was. But my eyes were glued to the return list. Natalie had returned everything. The engagement necklace, the heirloom bracelet my mother gave her, the designer bags I had casually bought her—even a pair of silver cufflinks I had left behind. She didn’t keep a single thing. She was clearing me out of her life like a tenant cleaning out a rental. “She wasn’t like this before,” I muttered. My mother frowned. “What did you say?” I didn’t answer. Natalie used to take photos of every little thing I gave her, keeping them like treasures. She would be thrilled for days over a simple, mismatched bracelet. She didn’t care about the price; she cared about the thought. Now, she had converted all that love into a cold, neat inventory list. For the first time, I realized that the girl who used to run to me with open arms was truly gone. My father was calmer than my mother, but his expression was grim. Since the Vance family had pulled out of our joint ventures, several major deals we were negotiating had suddenly gone cold. Our partners wouldn’t give us a straight answer, only saying they needed “more time.” But in business, “more time” meant they were backing out. Richard stared at me. “What exactly do you plan to do with Chloe?” I couldn’t answer. Before, I thought I could handle the baby, marry Natalie, and keep everyone happy. Now, looking at those three things, each one felt like a slap in the face. My father sneered, “You always pride yourself on being rational, Julian. How did you manage to fail to calculate the most obvious consequences of your actions?” *** **5** **Julian Carter’s POV** Natalie wasn’t hiding. She had simply erased me from her life. The Vance Foundation’s charity gala went ahead as scheduled. The stage, originally intended for our wedding, had been transformed into a gorgeous spring garden theme. Natalie stood at the entrance wearing a simple, elegant black gown, helping her mother welcome the guests. She looked stunning, her smile poised and effortless. I crashed the event that night. I didn’t have an invitation, and the security guards stopped me at the entrance. My face burned with humiliation. “I’m Natalie Vance’s fiancé.” The guard’s voice was strictly professional. “Your name is not on the guest list, sir.” Those words felt like a physical slap. In the past, whenever I attended a Vance event, I was treated like the guest of honor. Natalie would always register my name weeks in advance, have a driver wait for me, and wave to me from across the room. Now, my name wasn’t even on the list. Tristan walked out of the main hall, his tuxedo jacket casually draped over his arm. “Mr. Carter, tonight is a charity event. Don’t make things difficult for the staff.” I glared at him. “What are you doing here?” “I’m a co-sponsor,” Tristan said, flashing his VIP badge. “Which means I actually have a right to be here.” Furious, I stepped forward to shove him, but a soft voice stopped me. “Julian.” Natalie walked over. Her pace was slow, but it made me freeze. “You’re finally willing to see me,” I said, trying to suppress my anger. “Come home with me.” “I am home,” Natalie said quietly. “Are you still throwing a fit?” My eyes were bloodshot. “Just because Chloe is pregnant, you’re going to throw away all our years together?” “It’s not because she’s pregnant,” Natalie said, looking at me with pity. “It’s because after you betrayed me, you expected me to clean up your mess.” My breath hitched. Guests at the entrance were already starting to stare. My mother, Victoria, rushed over, sighing dramatically. “Natalie, whatever fight you and Julian are having, keep it private. Why make a scene in front of everyone? It’s incredibly disrespectful to us.” Eleanor Vance, Natalie’s mother, walked out of the hall, her face cold. “Disrespectful? My daughter was humiliated by your son and his little friend right before her wedding. We haven’t even made a scene, Victoria, and you’re already playing the victim?” Victoria gasped, unable to find her words. Natalie handed me a small, velvet box. “Your engagement necklace. Consider it returned. The legal papers for the dissolution are inside. Whether you sign them or not doesn’t change the outcome.” I refused to take it. “I don’t agree to this.” Natalie casually handed the box to a nearby staff member. “Then let the lawyers handle it.” She turned and walked back into the hall. Tristan didn’t follow her immediately. He stepped up to me, his voice low. “She made herself clear. If you keep pushing, you’re only going to embarrass yourself further.” I clenched my fists. For the first time, I felt the door to Natalie’s heart close firmly in my face. Inside the hall, Natalie stood gracefully by her mother’s side. When guests subtly brought up the wedding, she didn’t dodge the questions. She simply smiled and said, “If it’s not the right fit, it’s best to stop. Walking away early is better than staying in a mistake.” Those words drifted to my ears just as security escorted me and my mother out through the side exit. Some business associates passed by; they initially wanted to say hello, but seeing my mother and me being escorted out, they quickly looked away. Victoria couldn’t handle the humiliation. “Look at her! Look how she’s humiliating us!” But I could only look at Natalie through the glass doors. She was talking to a donor, her posture straight and confident. There were no tears, no dramatic breakdowns, no desperate pleas for attention. She wasn’t trying to humiliate me. She had just stopped protecting me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “450544”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Three years into our marriage, I lost the use of my hand for him, and my grandmother sold her jewelry to fund his dreams. But in the end, for the sake of his so-called savior’s sister, he gave away our marital home for free and drained the blood from my grandmother, who had just been released from the ICU, just for her. I finally saw him for who he really is. I unilaterally ended the marriage and bought a one-way ticket to London. But after the divorce, he went crazy trying to win me back… #### Chapter 1: Iris’s POV In the third year of our marriage, I walked into the bank to close our joint safety deposit box. The teller looked at the name on the screen and gave me a polite, professional smile. “Mrs. Hale, to close a joint safety deposit box, we need a co-signature from your husband, Ethan Hale.” I pulled back my ID card, my face completely expressionless. “There’s no need. I’m no longer Mrs. Hale. My name is Iris. I’m single.” Just an hour ago, I had watched Ethan sign the equity transfer papers with my own eyes. He had given ten percent of Hale Tech’s founding shares to Chloe—completely free of charge. Chloe was the younger sister of his late best friend, Marcus. Seven years ago, when Ethan had absolutely nothing, my Gran sold her antique family jewelry just so he could buy his first high-end CNC machine. Five years ago, when he couldn’t afford the down payment for his precision laboratory, I hid it from him and risked my life in an illegal, rain-soaked street race to win him two hundred thousand dollars. That night, my left wrist was shattered, leaving me with permanent nerve damage. Three years ago, when Ethan’s company was on the brink of bankruptcy, I worked as a tactical defense driver in a war-torn overseas crisis zone. I drove through active gunfire to rescue Arthur Sterling, the billionaire patriarch of the Sterling Group. In return, Arthur poured hundreds of millions into Ethan’s company. But for the past five years, all Chloe had to do was wiggle her finger, and Ethan would abandon me. He missed my doctor appointments, stood me up on anniversaries, and even gave her our first house. His excuse was always the same: *“Marcus died saving my life. I have to take care of Chloe forever.”* I tolerated it for five years. But today, seeing that equity transfer sheet, the last spark of love inside me died. I pushed open the heavy glass doors of the bank and walked straight out into the freezing drizzle. Before I could even reach the curb, my phone began to vibrate violently. It was a security alert from the bank’s automated system, warning me of an unauthorized attempt to access our joint assets. Two minutes later, a sleek black Maybach screeched to a halt right in front of me, splashing dirty water onto my jeans. The door flew open. Ethan stepped out, radiating a freezing aura. He marched over and grabbed my arm so hard I could hear my bones protest. “Iris! Have you lost your mind?!” Ethan’s brows were furrowed, his eyes a mix of irritation and panic. “You haven’t come home for a week. You won’t answer my calls. Now you’re at the bank trying to drain our joint assets? Do you have any idea that the security alert went straight to my phone? What the hell are you playing at?” I looked down at his hand gripping my left wrist—the scarred wrist that still throbbed with a dull, numb ache. “Let go of me,” I said, my voice completely flat. Ethan hated this side of me the most. When I was calm, he felt like he was losing control. He took a deep breath, trying to hide his guilt with his usual commanding tone. “I know you’re mad about the car I bought Chloe. But Chloe is Marcus’s only sister! Marcus died for me! What’s wrong with me looking out for her? Do you really have to overreact like this and throw away our seven years together over a stupid car?” Before he could finish, the phone in his pocket rang loudly. The caller ID flashed: *Chloe*. Ethan swiped to answer. Chloe’s soft, sobbing voice echoed through the speaker. “Ethan… my car broke down on the highway. People are honking at me, and I’m so scared… my stomach ulcer is flaring up again…” The moment he heard “stomach ulcer,” Ethan’s face changed completely. He forgot all about interrogating me. “Chloe, don’t panic. Lock the doors and stay in the car. I’m coming to get you right now!” He hung up, shoved me aside, and rushed back to his car. “Iris, stop acting out. Chloe is fragile, and she’s sick. I have to go. We’ll talk when I get back!” The Maybach roared away, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust and dirty puddles in the rain. I stood in the cold wind and slowly let out a breath. I pulled out my phone and dialed a heavily encrypted number. “Miss Iris, hello,” the voice on the other end was formal and precise. It was the coordinator from the Federal Security Agency’s Tactical Driving Division. “Regarding your application for high-risk overseas deployment, you have passed the initial screening. Since the deployment zone is near an active conflict area, the danger level is extreme. Are you sure you want to accept this assignment?” I looked at the empty corner where the Maybach had vanished. “I’m sure.” “Understood. Given the classified nature of your mission, our agency has the authority to grant you immediate family isolation privileges. This includes using a federal security channel to bypass the standard waiting period and execute a single-party annulment of your marriage. Do you wish to activate this?” “Yes,” I replied, tracing the ugly scar on my left wrist. “Please finalize the divorce before my departure in two weeks.” “Understood. The expedited annulment process has been initiated. It will take effect in exactly fifteen days.” I hung up, put my phone away, and walked into the rain. *** #### Chapter 2: Iris’s POV Three years later, Ethan’s assistant practically dragged me to Hale Tech’s massive product launch event. “Iris, please,” the assistant pleaded. “Today’s launch determines whether the Sterling Group will provide our next round of funding. Julian Sterling himself is sitting in the VIP section.” In the backstage corridor, Ethan was adjusting his designer suit. He gripped my shoulders, his tone a mix of coercion and fake sweetness. “Just sit quietly in the audience, Iris. Let the media get some photos of us looking happy. I cannot have any negative rumors about my marriage right now, got it?” I stood quietly in the shadows. I didn’t even bother to nod. But when the staff led me into the venue, I realized there was no seat for me in the front row. In the VIP section, right next to Ethan’s reserved seat, sat Chloe. She was wearing a stunning white haute couture gown, gracefully chatting with the investors around her. I was led all the way to the very back, in the dim corner reserved for low-tier media. “Hey, what are you doing sitting here?” a young female employee walked over, tapping my desk arrogantly. “These rows are for the press. Don’t block the cameras. If you knock over this equipment, you won’t be able to afford the damages.” I looked at her, chose not to explain, and quietly stood up. I walked out and stood in the dark exit hallway. The launch began. The applause was deafening. When it came time for the ribbon-cutting ceremony, Chloe walked onto the stage under the spotlight, naturally standing right next to Ethan. They held the golden scissors together. The camera flashes made the stage look as bright as day. In the crowd, a business partner joked aloud, “Mr. Hale, Chloe’s white dress is so beautiful. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a wedding!” The crowd erupted into knowing laughter. On stage, Ethan froze for a fraction of a second. His eyes darted anxiously across the front rows, trying to find me. But the seat he thought I was in was empty. Under the watchful eye of Julian Sterling, Ethan swallowed his explanation. He simply offered a vague, charming smile, letting the crowd speculate, while Chloe leaned a little closer to his side. Standing in the dark corridor, I watched the entire display. The very last ember of feeling in my heart went cold. I unlocked my phone and logged into the airline’s internal booking system. Because the federal security agency had already processed my annulment request, my legal status in the database had already been updated to “Single.” Without a second thought, I purchased a one-way ticket to London for fifteen days from now. Just as the booking confirmation popped up, the event ended. I turned to leave, but Ethan blocked me at the corner of the corridor. His tie was slightly messy, and his eyes were filled with panic and irritation. He stared at my phone screen, which hadn’t gone dark yet. “Who were you texting? Is it those street racer thugs again? I told you a thousand times, you are not allowed to contact those people!” He reached out aggressively, trying to grab my phone. I casually slipped it into my pocket and looked at him coldly. “None of your business.” I pushed his hand away, walked past him, and headed for the exit. Ethan stood frozen in the hallway, a cold wave of helplessness washing over him. *** #### Chapter 3: Iris’s POV By the time I left the venue, the rain had turned into a downpour. I hailed a cab. Instead of going back to the luxury penthouse Ethan had bought, I went straight back to the old garage in Brooklyn. This was where we had started. Five years ago, Ethan was just a broke kid working out of this dusty garage, and I was his only helper. But now, the place was filled with rusted parts, dust, and a single flickering lightbulb. I sat under the dim light, rolled up my sleeve, and pressed a warm, damp towel against my left wrist, massaging it gently. Ethan’s rough grip in the hallway had agitated my old injury, and it was throbbing again. The garage was quiet. Too quiet. I looked at the small plastic medicine cup on the desk, and my eyes stung. Gran’s Alzheimer’s had gotten worse, and she rarely recognized anyone anymore. Last month, she underwent major heart surgery and was now staying at a private care facility on the outskirts of the city. Years ago, when Ethan needed money for his startup, Gran had secretly pawned her cherished family heirlooms to give him cash. Back then, Ethan had held her hand with tears in his eyes, promising to treat her like his own flesh and blood. But once Hale Tech took off, his visits to the care facility dwindled to zero. The sweet “Gran” he used to call her became a cold, formal “Mrs. Ruth.” Before the towel on my wrist could even cool down, the wooden door of the garage was pushed open. Ethan walked in. His expensive designer suit looked incredibly out of place in this dusty, rusted space. “Iris, why did you leave without saying anything? You left me standing in the hallway like an idiot,” Ethan sat on a wooden stool, his patience wearing thin. I turned away and didn’t answer, continuing to apply pressure to my wrist. Ethan sighed, his tone softening slightly. “Once the Sterling Group’s investment clears, I’ll buy you a luxury penthouse overlooking Central Park. You won’t have to stay in this damp, depressing dump anymore.” I looked at him calmly. “Are you done?” “You’re always like this. You can’t even say one nice thing,” Ethan muttered, shaking his head. “I’m having a demolition crew come tomorrow to tear this garage down. Chloe’s new car keeps getting scratched in the public parking lot, and she’s complained to me several times. I’m going to build a private garage for her here. It’s not like we use this space anyway.” Tear down the garage. Tear down the place where we built everything, just to give Chloe a private parking space. I didn’t argue. I stood up, walked to the old desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and took out the deed to the property. I walked back and threw it on the table in front of him. “Take it,” I said, looking at the paper. “Tell them they can tear it down tomorrow.” Ethan stared at the deed, a flash of panic crossing his eyes. My absolute willingness to let it go made him feel like he was losing his grip on me. To hide his unease, his voice turned cold. “Iris, everything I do is for our future, and yet you’re throwing a tantrum over this old garage. If you leave me, how do you expect to survive on your own?” Building a parking spot for another woman was “for our future”? The excuse was so ridiculous it was almost funny. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to defend myself. I didn’t care about his opinion anymore. Suddenly, Ethan’s phone rang. It was Chloe again. He answered, and Chloe’s hysterical crying filled the quiet garage. “Ethan… someone trashed my car! The windows are shattered and the paint is completely ruined right outside the old street… I’m so scared, please come…” Ethan’s expression changed instantly. He glared at me, his eyes sharp. He snatched the deed from the table, stood up, and rushed out. “I have to go. We’ll finish this later!” The door slammed shut. The rain outside grew heavier, pounding against the old glass windows. Twenty minutes later, the door was kicked open with a deafening bang. Ethan stormed back in, soaked to the skin, his suit dripping rainwater onto the floor. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me, his voice shaking with rage. “Iris! How could you be so disgusting?!” *** #### Chapter 4: Iris’s POV “Chloe’s car is completely destroyed, and the security footage shows your Gran was at the scene!” Ethan roared, grabbing my collar and slamming me hard against the metal shelving. “I get that you hate Chloe, but using a sick old lady who just had heart surgery? You actually manipulated her into going out in a storm to trash Chloe’s car?!” My back hit the metal shelf hard, sending a sharp, clattering sound through the garage. My mind went completely blank. Gran… she had suffered an episode. She must have wandered out of the care facility in her hospital gown, walking all the way back to the old garage in the pouring rain. As Ethan shoved me, I instinctively used my left hand to shield myself. My wrist joint popped with a sickening crack, and a wave of agony washed over me, making me gasp for air. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My face turned pale as my fingers trembled, but I didn’t make a sound. Ethan glanced at my shaking wrist, his brow furrowing, but his voice remained accusatory. “Stop acting. I’m sick of your guilt trips. You are going to apologize to Chloe today, or else!” I squeezed my throbbing wrist, barely able to breathe through the pain. At that exact second, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was an urgent text from Gran’s nurse at the care facility: *[Miss Iris! It’s terrible! A group of men just showed up and dragged your Gran out of her room! They said she destroyed private property and took her to confront the owner!]* Before I could even process the pain in my wrist, I shoved Ethan aside and sprinted out of the garage. The rain was blinding. When I finally reached the private car wash Chloe had specified, I could hear the loud hum of a pressure washer from a distance, accompanied by Chloe’s soft, cruel laughter. “Spray some more cold water. Let’s see if that wakes the old woman up. Breaking someone’s car and not even apologizing… how pathetic.” Inside the damp, concrete car wash, Gran was shivering in her thin hospital gown, pinned down onto a metal chair by two of Ethan’s security guards. The high-pressure cold water hose was pointed directly at her fragile face. The poor old woman was shaking violently, her lips blue, barely able to breathe as she whimpered in pain. “Stop it!” I lost my mind and charged forward. But before I could reach her, an arm blocked me. Ethan stood firmly in front of Chloe, his face tense. “Iris, calm down! Chloe was just upset. Your Gran was the one who trashed the car. Chloe deserves an explanation. Once this is sorted, I’ll have someone take her back.” Rain and sweat mixed on my face. I ignored Ethan and looked past his shoulder at the shivering old woman. “An explanation?” My voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human. I stared at Ethan, my eyes filled with absolute despair. “Ethan, when you were broke and crying in her arms, what did you call her? You called her Gran. And now you call her ‘the old woman’?” Ethan flinched, a deep wave of shame crossing his eyes. Chloe hid behind Ethan, pulling at his sleeve, crying like a victim. “Ethan… I didn’t want to hurt her. She used her cane to scratch my car first… I just wanted to ask her why…” Under everyone’s shocked gazes, I walked forward, ripped the pressure hose from the guard’s hand, and threw it to the ground. I pulled my semi-conscious Gran into my arms. Her body felt like ice. I wrapped her in my heavy coat, hoisted her onto my back, and walked out into the storm. There were no cabs in sight in the midnight storm. My Gran’s body temperature was dropping rapidly, and the shattered bones in my left wrist ground against each other with every step I took. Every step felt like walking on broken glass. I fell several times, scraping my knees until they bled, but I held onto her with everything I had. When I finally stumbled through the doors of the emergency room, I collapsed onto the cold tile floor. I used my good right hand to grab a nurse’s scrubs, begging, “Please… save my grandmother… please…” The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital blurred in my vision, and my left arm hung limply by my side, swollen and turning an angry shade of purple. *** #### Chapter 5: Iris’s POV The hospital room was dead silent. I leaned weakly against the glass window of the ICU, my eyes locked on the fragile old woman hooked up to countless machines. The doctor had just pulled me aside. Gran was suffering from severe hypothermia, which had triggered acute heart failure alongside a severe lung infection. Even with ICU care, she was on life support. My swollen right hand gently held my deformed left wrist, which was throbbing with excruciating pain. But I couldn’t feel it. The pain inside my chest was far worse. “Iris, enough is enough. I had to call the care facility just to find you here.” At the end of the hallway, Ethan appeared, holding a basket of expensive fruits and imported ginseng. “Chloe was just emotional. She’s young and reckless, and I already scolded her. I had my assistant pay for the hospital bills and the future recovery fees. Let’s drop this. Stop holding a grudge and come home with me.” I didn’t even turn around. I kept staring at Gran through the glass, my voice barely a whisper. “Okay.” I didn’t even bother to explain myself. I knew that the federal annulment would take effect in exactly ten days. Right now, all I wanted was for Gran to stabilize so I could take her to London and leave this toxic city forever. Ethan assumed I was submitting to him like I always did. He smiled in relief and reached out to pat my head. “That’s my girl. Once I’m done with the Sterling project, we’ll bring Gran home together.” I flinched away from his touch, closing my eyes. Seeing that I was unresponsive, Ethan muttered a few words and left. But I had underestimated how truly evil those two could be. They had no bottom line. Two days later, I was walking back from the pharmacy with a new prescription. When I reached the ICU, the hallway was in total chaos. Several doctors and security guards were wheeling Gran’s bed toward the elevator. My heart stopped. I ran forward, blocking the bed. “What are you doing?! She’s in critical condition! She can’t be moved!” The nurse looked away guiltily, her eyes red. “Miss Iris, I’m so sorry… Mr. Hale gave the order. We have to take her to the VIP wing. Miss Chloe had a boating accident and is suffering from severe internal bleeding. The blood bank is out of her rare blood type, and your grandmother is the only match in the database…” It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck my skull. “She just came out of cardiac arrest! If you draw her blood now, you’ll kill her!” I screamed, using my body to shield the bed. Just then, Ethan’s heavy footsteps echoed from the elevator. He walked over with a cold, hardened expression and shoved me aside. “Iris, stop throwing a fit!” Ethan’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Marcus only has one sister left. I cannot let her die! Your Gran is just donating a little blood. It won’t kill her. I asked the doctors—as long as we control the amount, she’ll be fine. If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility!” “Responsibility? How can you possibly take responsibility?!” I grabbed his sleeve, my eyes bloodshot. “Ethan, look into your heart! How did my Gran treat you when you had nothing?!” “Iris, we don’t have time for this!” Ethan’s face darkened completely. He waved his hand to the guards and doctors, his voice cold and final. “Take the old lady up. Move the cardiology team to the VIP wing to assist with Chloe’s surgery!” “Ethan—!!” My scream echoed down the corridor, but my shattered left hand had no strength. I could only watch as they wheeled Gran into the elevator. Ethan didn’t even look back as he disappeared into the VIP wing with the medical team. The ICU hallway fell into a terrifying silence. Every single on-duty doctor and nurse had been pulled away by Ethan’s orders. An hour later, the heart monitor inside the ICU emitted a long, flat, piercing tone. *BEEEP—* That sound felt like a cold blade slicing through my chest. I burst into the ICU room like a madwoman. No doctors. No nurses. The sterile room was empty, save for the cold machine screaming its flatline tone. I stumbled to the bedside and collapsed to my knees. “Gran…” I reached out with my trembling right hand, grabbing her frail, cold hand. The hand that had held mine as I grew up was rapidly losing its warmth, turning stiff. Gran’s right arm was covered in horrific, dark purple bruising from the aggressive, excessive blood draw. The needle mark still had a trace of dried, dark red blood. “Gran… open your eyes and look at me… we’re going to London… we’re leaving…” Tears poured down my face, splashing onto her lifeless cheek. I pressed my forehead against hers, trying to warm her cold skin with my own body, but there was only the chill of death. The grief trapped in my throat turned into silent, suffocating sobs. The only person in this world who had loved me unconditionally was dead—abandoned in an empty room without a single doctor. And the man who had drained her blood was the very same man I had supported with seven years of my youth. In the suffocating silence, the phone in my pocket lit up. I unlocked it with numb fingers. It was a photo from Ethan. He was sitting by Chloe’s luxurious VIP bed, holding her hand with absolute tenderness. Beneath the photo, there was a text: *[Iris, Chloe is out of danger. I’ve sent the best organic supplements to your Gran’s room. Once I’m done here, we’ll bring her to our new home.]* I stared at the screen, my tears mixing with the blood on my hands, dripping onto the sterile white sheets. A broken, hollow laugh escaped my throat. “Haha… Hahaha…” Ethan, our debts are settled.

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The day my mother died of a hemorrhage while giving birth to my little brother. My wealthy biological father was too busy pampering his mistress. He pulled every OB-GYN from the wing just to treat her mild migraine. That night, my mother and my unborn brother died on the operating table. Shortly after, the mistress framed me and had me thrown out of the house. Twenty years later, I am now the CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate. And the mistress’s daughter, who helped ruin my mother’s life, has ended up as an intern at my company. On the day the return offers were announced, everyone assumed she had it in the bag. But in front of the entire boardroom, I calmly slid the termination letter across the table. “Amber Harrison, you didn’t pass.” The room fell silent instantly. The other four interns, holding their official contracts, stood frozen. They looked at Amber, completely lost. My assistant was stunned too. Standing beside me, he frantically tried to catch my eye. “Ms. Vance…” I ignored him, my eyes locked calmly on the girl sitting across from me. She looked so much like her mother. The same pretty face, the same clever eyes, and that sense of entitlement. Out of everyone in the room, Amber was the only one who didn’t panic. She was startled for a fraction of a second, but she quickly regained her composure. Slowly, she opened her leather portfolio and spread her performance reviews across the mahogany desk. “Ms. Vance, I’ve interned here for three months. I managed four projects, two of which I ran entirely on my own, with a one hundred percent client satisfaction rate.” Her tone was polite but firm, highly professional. “My quarterly evaluations have been perfect for two consecutive rounds. My sales numbers are the highest among all the interns.” She paused, looking up to meet my eyes. “If you are rejecting me, I deserve a reason.” She tilted her chin up slightly. There was no vulnerability in her eyes, only the controlled indignation of someone who believed they were untouchable. That kind of confidence came from her bones. It was the kind of arrogance only a spoiled, wealthy girl with a perfect, loving family could possess. I leaned back in my leather chair, watching her for a long moment before speaking. “I don’t need a reason.” Amber’s face tightened. “This is my company. I want you gone. It’s that simple.” Her perfect composure finally began to crack. Her face flushed, but she quickly forced a cold sneer. “Ms. Vance, this is workplace bullying.” She snapped her portfolio shut, her voice dropping to a icy whisper. “If I leak this to the press, I’m afraid it won’t look good for Vanguard Tech’s reputation.” I smiled. “I’m not bullying you.” I looked at her, my face completely expressionless. “If you think this is bullying, maybe the problem is you. Truly talented people never feel targeted. Only those with a guilty conscience do.” At those words, Amber’s expression completely changed. She was finally losing her temper. My assistant whispered anxiously in my ear. “Ms. Vance, shouldn’t we reconsider this? Amber’s performance has been flawless. Plus, the board ran a background check. Her father is the CEO of the Harrison Group.” “Richard Harrison.” I raised a hand to cut him off, keeping my eyes locked on Amber. “That’s your father, right?” Amber blinked, then raised her chin even higher, clearly proud of her family name. “So, Ms. Vance has heard of my father.” Her voice was dripping with smug confidence. “Since you know who he is, you should also know that keeping me here would secure a massive partnership between Vanguard and Harrison Group in the future.” She spoke with absolute certainty. Over the past twenty years, although the Harrison Group had passed its prime, it was still a powerful old-money giant. To a normal company, their business was a dream. “No, thank you.” Amber froze. “I don’t need anything from the Harrison Group.” I pushed the termination letter closer to her. “Now, pack your things and get out.” Amber completely lost it. Her face flushed bright red, not from shame, but from pure rage. She had been a princess her entire life. She had never been publicly rejected like this. “Fine.” She glared at me with pure hatred, snatching the letter off the table. “I’ll remember this, Ms. Vance. I hope you won’t regret it.” After she stormed out, I dismissed the other four interns. My assistant was still panicking, desperately trying to talk some sense into me. “Ms. Vance, why did you do that? The Harrison Group still holds massive market resources. Publicly firing Richard Harrison’s daughter is not a smart business move!” “Are you done?” My voice was dead cold. The assistant immediately shut his mouth. “Copy every single project file Amber touched during her internship and bring them to my office.”

In the afternoon, right after my assistant delivered the files, my office door was slammed open. I looked up. A meticulously preserved woman in a classic Chanel suit marched in, her high heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. The diamond ring on her finger was blindingly large. Her makeup was so heavy you couldn’t tell her real age. Victoria Sterling. Twenty years had passed, and she was living like a queen. “Are you the owner of this company?” She sat down across from me, tossing her Hermès Birkin bag onto my desk like it was trash. “Who gave you the right to fire my daughter?” I ignored her, calmly picking up my mug to pour myself a fresh cup of coffee. “Mrs. Harrison, you still have quite the mouth on you. It seems you’ve been living comfortably all these years.” Victoria paused. She stared at my face for a few seconds. But she didn’t recognize me. Of course she didn’t. Twenty years ago, I was just a scrawny six-year-old child whom she banished from her sight with a single lie. Now that I was the powerful CEO of a billion-dollar company, how could she connect me to that miserable little girl? She assumed I knew her only because of her husband’s status. “Since you know who I am, let’s not waste time,” Victoria said, her voice dripping with the casual condescension of someone used to getting her way. “Amber is my daughter. Working at your little tech startup is a favor to you. Honestly, with her talent, a regular position is insulting. Make her a department director immediately.” I smiled faintly. “Does she deserve it?” Victoria’s face twisted. “What did you say?!” I set my mug down and looked her dead in the eye. “I said, she doesn’t deserve it.” Victoria bolted upright, her face turning pale with rage. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you! My daughter working here is a blessing for you. Do you have any idea how many projects the Harrison Group controls?” “With one word from my husband, we could give you enough business to feed this company for a lifetime!” Watching her ugly, arrogant face, I couldn’t help but wonder. Did she have this exact same expression when she threatened my mother to sign the divorce papers twenty years ago? “I’m sorry, but I have no interest in the Harrison Group.” I pressed the intercom button on my desk. “Security, get up here.” Two security guards entered the office and grabbed Victoria by her arms. Her eyes widened in absolute shock. She clearly never expected anyone would dare to touch her. Suddenly, the office door was kicked open again. A tall, skinny young man rushed in. He looked to be in his early twenties, dressed head-to-toe in expensive streetwear. He pointed a finger directly at my face and screamed. “Who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my mother? I’ll have my dad shut this pathetic company down by tomorrow!” I stared at his angry, youthful face. His eyes and jawline were a carbon copy of Richard Harrison. Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind. That rainy night twenty years ago, when I lost my mother and my unborn baby brother. If that baby had survived, he would have been exactly this boy’s age. “Is this your son?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Of course,” Victoria sneered, straightening her suit. “This is Jack, Richard’s only son.” I stared at the two of them, and then, I laughed. “Perfect.” I stood up and looked at Jack. “Go back and tell your father. Tell him I’m waiting to see how he plans to shut me down.” The security guards dragged them both out. I sat back down, picked up my lukewarm coffee, and drank the entire cup. I knew this was just the beginning.

After throwing them out, I gave my assistant another task. “Find out everything you can on Jack Harrison. I want every single detail.” An hour later, a file was placed on my desk. Jack Harrison. Twenty-one years old. A college senior. Currently interning at the local TV network. What a coincidence. The TV network? I stared at the file for a long time before picking up my phone. The call was answered almost instantly. “Sera? Why are you calling me now? I thought you said you were swamped today.” Hearing Marcus’s voice, I fell silent for a few seconds. He was my boyfriend, and also the executive producer at that exact TV network. I didn’t want to drag him into my dark past. But he was the only one who could help me with this. “Do you have an intern at your station named Jack Harrison?” “Yeah,” Marcus answered quickly. “I heard he’s the heir to the Harrison Group. Why? Do you know him?” I hesitated, but finally, I made my demand. “I don’t want to see him there anymore. Can you fire him?” Marcus went quiet on the other end. He knew me. He knew I was never unreasonable or petty. “Sera, what happened?” “Nothing,” I whispered, not wanting him to know the painful details of my childhood yet. “I just really dislike the Harrison family.” Marcus didn’t push. He just gave me a firm, comforting answer. “Okay. Consider it done.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, a wave of warmth rushing through me. “I’ll pick you up from the station tonight.” After work, I drove to the TV station. As soon as I got out of my car, I saw Jack being held back by two security guards, screaming curses at the top of his lungs. “On what grounds are you firing me? Just because I yelled at a coworker? I’m telling you, my dad is Richard Harrison! If you mess with me, you’re messing with the entire Harrison Group!” A manager was standing nearby, trying to calm him down. “Mr. Harrison, please calm down. You physically assaulted a colleague. We are just following company policy…” “Policy? I am the policy! If you don’t fire that loser and make him apologize to me on his knees, I’ll ruin this entire station!” Just then, Marcus walked out of the building. He spotted me immediately and walked straight toward me, naturally taking my hand. “Have you been waiting long?” “No, I just got here.” I smiled at him. Jack caught sight of us. When he saw how close Marcus and I were, his eyes flared with understanding. “You bitch! It was you! Firing my sister wasn’t enough, so you had your boyfriend fire me too?!” He broke free from the guards and charged at me with his fist raised. Marcus’s face darkened instantly. He stepped in front of me, shielding me, and delivered a swift, hard kick to Jack’s stomach. Jack collapsed, groaning. “Get him away from here,” Marcus ordered the guards, his voice dangerously low. The two security guards grabbed Jack and dragged him away. “You’re dead!” Jack screamed as they dragged him down the street. “My dad is going to destroy you! Just you wait!” Marcus turned to me, his eyes full of concern. “Richard Harrison is one of the most powerful men in this city, Sera. What is going on?” I shook my head, keeping my lips sealed. That night, my phone rang. It was an unrecognized number, but the voice was deeply familiar. It was Richard Harrison. Twenty years. Hearing his voice again made my heart stop for a agonizing second.

“Are you Sera Vance, the CEO of Vanguard Tech?” On the other end of the line, his voice was heavy with arrogance. “I am.” “Who gave you the permission to mess with my kids?” I let out a dry laugh. “Mr. Harrison, are you confused? Compared to Vanguard, your company is practically a relic of the past. Why would I waste my time targeting a failing business?” “You arrogant brat!” My words completely set him off. He had probably never been spoken to like this by a younger professional in his life. I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing over the line. “Fine! Very good! Let’s see how long your precious Vanguard can survive after tonight!” “I’ll be waiting,” I said quietly, and hung up. Richard moved fast. The next morning, my assistant burst into my office, holding his iPad. His face was pale. “Ms. Vance, you need to see this!” Trending at number three on Twitter was: #VanguardTechCEOScandals. I scrolled down. Several media accounts had posted long articles claiming that a woman in her early twenties couldn’t possibly become a CEO without a wealthy sugar daddy. Then, they posted several threads hinting that Vanguard’s core technology was stolen, claiming our success was built entirely on fake marketing. “Ms. Vance, several of our key partners are calling,” my assistant’s voice shook. “If we don’t handle this, they might pull their funding.” Before I could speak, there was a frantic knock on the door. A PR coordinator ran in with her laptop open. “Ms. Vance, Amber Harrison just posted a video on TikTok!” I grabbed the laptop. In the video, Amber was sitting in front of the camera, looking professional and polished. She displayed her project reports one by one. “These are the projects I completed during my internship at Vanguard Tech. I poured my heart into them, and my metrics were the highest. But Ms. Vance terminated me without any explanation.” She paused, her eyes turning red and tearing up. “Later, I found out that two of the male interns had private meetings with Ms. Vance. I don’t want to make assumptions, but the facts speak for themselves.” At the end of the video, she posted a comparison of her metrics versus one of the male interns who got the job. The caption read: What did I do wrong? My assistant slammed his fist on the desk. “This is absolute garbage! That male intern was working on backend infrastructure! He didn’t even have client-facing metrics!” The PR director wrung his hands in panic. “Ms. Vance, public opinion is completely against us. Everyone is calling us a toxic workplace. Should we release a statement?” I nodded slowly. “Yes. We definitely need to release a statement.” But I didn’t release a clarification. Instead, I filed a lawsuit against Amber Harrison for defamation and corporate slander. My retaliation pushed the Harrisons over the edge. Within hours, Richard Harrison contacted a major TV network and arranged a live-streamed debate. He publicly challenged me to go head-to-head with him on air. I was about to accept when Marcus stormed into my office, stopping me. “Sera, don’t go. Richard bought off the media. The host, the guest panel, they are all on his payroll. It’s a trap. The moment you step on that stage, they will tear you apart live.” I listened quietly, then looked up at him. “Marcus, can you get control of the broadcasting booth?” He blinked, surprised. “I can do that, but…” “That’s all I need.” I unlocked my phone and sent a message back to Richard Harrison. “I’ll see you there.” I put my phone down, walked into the executive bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a sharp, charcoal-grey pantsuit. I stood tall and proud. Twenty years. From the night my mother died until today, I had been waiting for this exact moment. I looked at my reflection and whispered, “Mom, the day is finally here.”

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In my past life, I desperately tried to stop Lucas from donating his kidney to Chloe, the girl he worshipped. Because he couldn’t receive the transplant in time, Chloe passed away three days later. Lucas kept his kidney and eventually joined a prestigious NASA-affiliated aerospace program. He had a brilliant, limitless future ahead of him. But he hated me for the rest of his life. My parents told me I was cold-blooded. They said I murdered Chloe and ruined Lucas’s chance at a perfect life. Later, they ruined my college graduation opportunities and sabotaged my career. I ended up dying alone from an untreated illness in a damp, rented room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lucas was about to sign the organ donation consent form. This time, I didn’t stop him. I just quietly turned on the voice recorder on my phone and asked calmly, “Lucas, do you confirm that you fully understand all the risks? And do you promise you won’t hold it against me in the future?” On the table in the transplant center’s meeting room sat a thick stack of files. The top page was the Living Organ Donor Informed Consent Form. My brother, Lucas, gripped a black pen, his knuckles turning white. In my past life, today was exactly the same. I had burst into the room and snatched the pen out of his hand. I had said, “Lucas, you can’t do this. You have your physical exam for the astronaut program next month. You’ve had high blood pressure and protein in your urine. The doctor said your risk is way higher than a normal person’s.” I had screamed until my throat was hoarse. And Lucas had hesitated. The surgery was eventually canceled. Chloe only lasted three days. After she died, I became the ultimate sinner of the family. Lucas’s career went incredibly smooth after that. But every time he got a promotion, every time he won an award, every time people praised him for being a young genius, he would stab me with his words: “If it wasn’t for you, Chloe would be alive to see this.” My parents were the same. They enjoyed the glory of Lucas’s health and success, yet they blamed Chloe’s death entirely on me. They took away my tuition money, forced me to give up my opportunities for Lucas, and sabotaged my job interviews and relationships. They said I owed Chloe a life. Until the day I died, they never picked up my last phone call. Now, I was back at the exact moment before Lucas put pen to paper. Seeing me walk in, my mother instantly blocked Lucas. “Hazel, I’m warning you. If you make a scene today, I will never forgive you.” My dad looked at me with a cold face. “Lucas is saving a life. It’s a good deed. Don’t embarrass yourself with your selfish little thoughts.” I almost laughed out loud. In my past life, when I stopped him, they had actually let out a sigh of relief. But after Chloe died, they didn’t want to admit they were terrified of their son getting hurt. So, they needed a villain. Lucas looked up at me. “Hazel, I know you don’t like Chloe, but she really can’t hold on much longer.” Chloe, pale and weak in her wheelchair, looked at me. “Hazel, please don’t blame Lucas. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be a burden to him…” Lucas’s heart broke for her, just like I knew it would. “Chloe, don’t say that.” My mom started crying too. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t be scared. We won’t just stand by and watch you die.” Everyone was waiting for me to lose my mind. They expected me to cry, beg, and scream like I did in my past life, taking all the blame onto myself. But this time, I didn’t. I took my phone out of my bag. I tapped the record button. My dad frowned. “What are you recording?” “Just keeping a record.” I placed the phone flat on the table. “No faces, just audio. I want to make sure nobody says I forced Lucas to donate in the future. And I definitely don’t want anyone saying I ruined his life by not stopping him.” My mom’s face twisted. “What is that supposed to mean? We’re family. Do you have to make things so ugly?” In my past life, when I was burning up with a fever and drifting in and out of consciousness, I called home seventeen times. No one answered. Back then, why didn’t they care about being “family”? The doctor sitting at the table looked a bit awkward. “Miss Miller, the hospital keeps records of the pre-op interview. You don’t need to be so nervous.” “I’m not nervous,” I said. “I just want every adult here to be responsible for the words that come out of their mouths.” Lucas stared at me coldly. “You’re disgusting.” In the past, those words would have made me shake with hurt. Not anymore. I looked at the pen in his hand. “Before you sign, I have a few questions.”

Suppressing his anger, Lucas sat down. “Ask.” I picked up the risk disclosure form the doctor had handed over earlier. I read it out loud, line by line. “First, after a kidney is removed, the donor needs long-term follow-ups and must avoid high-stress, high-intensity work. Are you aware of this?” Lucas gritted his teeth. “Yes.” “Second, you have a history of mild hypertension and occasional protein in your urine. Although your current tests look fine, your surgical risk is still elevated. Are you aware of this?” The doctor nodded. “We have explained this. It’s not an absolute disqualification, but the donor must be fully informed.” Lucas’s voice dropped a bit. “Yes, I know.” “Third, you are scheduled for the NASA Astronaut Candidate physical exam next month. That selection has strict requirements for kidney function, medication use, and physical stamina. After this donation, you will likely fail the medical clearance. Are you aware of this?” The room fell dead silent. My mom panicked first. “But didn’t the doctor say people can live a normal life with just one kidney?” The doctor sighed. “Mrs. Miller, a normal life and a specialized military-grade physical exam are two entirely different things. We explained this before.” My mom froze. In my past life, it was this very sentence that made her hesitate. But later, she conveniently forgot all about it. Lucas gripped the pen tighter. “I know.” I kept going. “Fourth, the surgery carries risks of bleeding, infection, and rare but serious anesthesia complications. Are you aware of this?” “Yes.” “Fifth, even after a successful transplant, Chloe will need lifelong immunosuppressant therapy. It is not a permanent cure. Are you aware of this?” This time, I looked directly at Chloe. “You answer.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I… I know.” “Sixth, do you confirm that you are accepting Lucas’s donation entirely of your own free will, without any coercion from him or pressure from the Miller family?” Tears immediately spilled from Chloe’s eyes. “Hazel, why are you asking me this? How could I ever…” “Answer the question.” My voice was completely flat. She froze. In the past, as long as she cried, I would instantly become the bitter, cruel sister in everyone’s eyes. But today, I wasn’t giving her that power. She had to answer. “I confirm. I am accepting it willingly.” I nodded, then turned to my parents. “And you two? You fully support Lucas’s donation, right?” My dad said coldly, “He’s my son. He’s doing a noble thing. Of course we support him.” My mom hesitated for a fraction of a second. But quickly, she wiped her tears. “Yes. As long as it saves Chloe, we support him.” I pulled three copies of a supplemental confirmation agreement from my bag. I slid the papers across the table. “Sign here.” My dad slammed his hand on the table. “Hazel! You actually prepared this? Are you here to help, or are you here to scheme against your own family?” I looked up at him. “I’m not here to help.” The room became silent as a grave. I said every word clearly: “I am only here to witness your choices.” Lucas let out a cold laugh. “Fine. I’ll sign.” He grabbed the pen and scribbled his name. The scratch of the pen on paper sounded like he was slicing open his own future. My dad signed too. My mom’s hand shook as she signed. When it was Chloe’s turn, her tears dripped onto the paper, smudging the ink. “Hazel, do you really have to push us this far?” I looked at her. “I didn’t push any of you.” I gathered the papers, took photos of them, uploaded them to my Google Drive, and emailed them to my backup account. “You all said you were doing this willingly.” Outside the door, my aunt Clara whispered to another relative, “She’s so cold-blooded. Her brother is saving a life, and she’s treating it like a business transaction.” I spun around to look at her. “Do you think donating an organ is that honorable?” She blinked, startled. “Of course it is.” “Well, your son is an adult too. Why don’t we get him tested to see if he’s a match?” Her face drained of color instantly. “What nonsense are you talking about?!” I smiled. “So it’s honorable when it’s someone else’s body, but it’s nonsense when it’s your own family. Your charity really knows how to choose its targets.” The hallway fell dead quiet. Lucas handed the consent forms to the doctor. “Doctor, please schedule the surgery.” He didn’t look at me again. “Hazel, as of today, I don’t have a sister anymore.” I nodded. “Fine.” I had heard that exact phrase too many times in my past life. This time, it didn’t feel like a punishment. It felt like freedom.

The surgery was scheduled for that afternoon. Before Chloe was wheeled into the operating room, she held Lucas’s hand tightly. “Lucas, if I survive this, I will owe you my life forever.” Lucas leaned down to wipe her tears. “Don’t be scared. You’re going to make it.” My mom was crying uncontrollably next to them. My dad patted Lucas’s shoulder, his eyes full of pride. “Lucas, I’ve never been prouder to call you my son.” I stood far away, near the exit. As the nurse was checking the charts, she asked casually, “Aren’t you going to say something to your brother?” Lucas cut in coldly, “No need.” The nurse gave me an awkward look. I said nothing. In my past life, I had said too much. I had screamed until I lost my voice, knelt on the floor, and begged. In the end, every single one of those actions was turned into proof of my cruelty. This time, I was as quiet as a wall. The operating room doors swung shut. My mom finally found the time to put me on trial. “Hazel, your behavior today is absolutely heartbreaking.” I kept my head down, organizing my bag. “Okay.” “Lucas is lying in there on an operating table, and you don’t care at all?” “My worrying won’t change his surgical outcome.” She choked on her words. My dad said in a deep, booming voice, “Lucas is sacrificing his entire future to save Chloe. As his sister, the least you could do is show some support instead of being so sarcastic.” I looked up. “I warned him about the risks to his career. You both said saving a life was more important.” My mom’s eyes welled with tears again. “Do you have to say things like that right now?” “Then what do you want me to say?” I looked her in the eye. “Do you want me to say you were right, so that when things go south later, you can blame me again?” Her face froze. My dad snapped. “How can you be so vicious? The surgery isn’t even over, and you’re already cursing Lucas?” I didn’t bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and messaged my academic advisor. I applied for an early return to campus. In my past life, after this day, I stayed at the hospital to help. I paid the bills, bought the food, picked up the lab reports, and stayed overnight. When Chloe woke up and Lucas recovered, they received all the credit. Meanwhile, because I missed too many classes, I missed the final presentation for my national law competition. Later, I lost my early-admission slot for grad school because of it. Back then, my dad had said, “You’re just a woman. Why do you need so much education anyway? Lucas’s career is what matters.” This time, I was not going to leave my life sitting at the door of their hospital room. Four hours later, the surgeon stepped out. “The surgery is complete. Everything went smoothly. The recipient is stable, but the donor will need close monitoring.” My family rushed forward immediately. “Thank God.” “Lucas is such a brave soul.” “Chloe is so blessed to have him.” In my past life, they had crowded around him just like this. Except back then, they were praising his promotions, his bonuses, and his bright future. And then they would add: “It’s a shame Chloe didn’t have the luck to live.” And finally, they would glare at me. “Hazel’s heart is made of stone.” My mom sat by Lucas’s bed, crying tears of pity. “Lucas, my poor baby, you’ve suffered so much.” The anesthesia hadn’t fully worn off, and his eyes were unfocused, but he was still asking, “Chloe… is she okay?” My dad’s eyes were wet. “Yes, she’s perfect. You saved her.” A slight smile appeared on Lucas’s face. It looked like he had finally received the gold medal he had always wanted. I placed a receipt on the bedside table. “This is the $3,700 I advanced. Make sure to Venmo me.” My mom snapped her head up. “Lucas just got out of surgery, and you’re asking us for money?” “It’s not Lucas’s money,” I said. “Chloe’s family didn’t have enough for the pre-op deposit, and you told me to put it on my card.” My dad’s face turned purple. “Are you really that desperate for three grand?” “Yes,” I looked at them. “My rent is due next month.” My mom stared at me as if I were a stranger. “You never used to be like this.” Used to be? I used to think that if I was just obedient enough, they would finally love me. But I finally realized they just didn’t think I deserved to be loved.

I picked up my bag. “I’m heading back to campus.” My mom panicked. “What about Lucas?” “He has his parents, his nurses, and Chloe’s eternal gratitude.” I stopped at the doorway. “I only have myself.” When I left the hospital, there was a food truck selling hot clam chowder downstairs. In my past life, I had bought countless meals here. Lucas would complain it was too bland, Chloe would say it was too hot, and my mom would yell at me for taking too long. This time, I bought a bowl just for myself. As the warm steam hit my face, tears almost came to my eyes. Not because I was sad. But because for the first time in two lifetimes, I had bought a warm meal just for myself. Chloe survived. Lucas became the ultimate romantic hero in our social circle. My mom posted on Instagram every single day. “My brave son gave a part of himself to bring another beautiful soul back to life.” The post had hundreds of likes. Someone commented: “Where is Hazel? Lucas did such an incredible thing, she must be so proud.” My mom replied: “She’s still young and selfish. She doesn’t understand.” I saw it. I didn’t comment. I was too busy preparing my final presentation for the law competition. Three days after returning, I packed up and moved out of my tiny bedroom at my parents’ house. In my past life, that room was eventually turned into Lucas’s home office. My things had been tossed into cardboard boxes and shoved onto the balcony. My mom had said, “Lucas is under so much pressure. He needs a quiet study. You’re a girl, you can crash anywhere.” This time, I didn’t wait for them to kick me out. I left on my own. The apartment I rented was tiny. Downstairs was a noisy night market, and the smell of greasy food drifted through my window every evening. But the lock on the door was mine. The light was mine. The yogurt in the fridge was mine. No one was banging on my door at midnight demanding I make Lucas ramen. No one was rifling through my drawers to steal my cash to buy Chloe organic supplements. I had never felt so safe. Two weeks later, Lucas was discharged. Chloe was moved to a general ward. Our family threw a small welcome-back party. But I didn’t go. My mom called me, her voice dripping with irritation. “Lucas is finally taking his first steps out of bed today. You’re not even going to come see him?” I kept my eyes on the legal essay on my laptop screen. “I’m busy.” “What could possibly be more important than your brother?” In my past life, this question had trapped me for years. This time, my answer was instant. “My life.” The line went silent for a few seconds. My mom’s voice turned icy. “Hazel, don’t you dare regret this. If you act like this now, don’t expect this family to help you when you’re struggling.” I smiled. “Sounds great. Good practice for the future.” She hung up in a rage. That night, I got a text from Lucas. It was just one sentence: “Chloe said she’s going to spend the rest of her life by my side.” I stared at the screen for a long time. In my past life, after Chloe died, Lucas had said something similar at her grave. He had said, “I will never love anyone else for the rest of my life.” He never got married. And everyone blamed his loneliness on me. But in this life, Chloe was alive. Would she really stay by his side forever? Three months later, the decision everyone had praised so highly began to unravel from the inside out.

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After our divorce, I moved thirty-three times. To win me back, my ex-husband slit his wrists, jumped into a river, swallowed sleeping pills, and even slit his throat right in front of me. In the end, I gave in. We got remarried. For the past three years, he seemed like a changed man. He changed all his passwords to my birthday. He handed over his paychecks. He shared his real-time location with me twenty-four hours a day, taking meticulous care of me and our daughter. Until late last night, when I glanced at his iPad and noticed he had forgotten to log out of his burner Snapchat account. A message from Chloe popped up: “Did you still not touch her tonight? Ugh, I missed out on another live show.” He replied almost instantly: “I haven’t touched her since she got pregnant.” “Stop watching the security feed and go to sleep. If you stay up late again, you’ll feel terrible tomorrow.” It turned out the camera in our bedroom was never meant for monitoring our baby. It was to prove his “innocence” to her. This time, I will not let him drag me down again.

From the bedroom, I could hear Ethan’s soft, patient voice singing a lullaby to our daughter, Lily. But I felt ice cold. The thought of me breastfeeding Lily in that room every day, completely exposed and off-guard, while the person I hated most watched the entire thing… It made me want to throw up. Hearing me gasp, Ethan rushed out of the room. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?” He frowned, concern written all over his face. I calmly locked the iPad screen. “My stomach hurts a bit. Can you get me a glass of water?” He did so immediately, carefully holding the glass to my lips. “Better?” When I didn’t answer, he gently touched my cheek, then my forehead. “Still feeling bad? Do you want to go to the hospital?” I looked into his eyes, searching for the warmth that now felt so fake. I spoke softly. “Ethan, are you still in touch with Chloe?” His eyes flickered. “Of course not. We haven’t spoken in years. Why would you ask that?” Seeing my silence, his eyes welled up with tears. He dropped to his knees, his voice cracking with desperation. “I promised you I’d cut her off, and I meant it. Clara, please don’t leave me again.” “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you doubt me?” I dug my nails into my palms, fighting back the tremors racking my body. I forced a tiny smile. “It’s nothing. I just suddenly thought of the past.” He let out a long sigh of relief, taking my hand and pulling me back toward the bedroom. “You always overthink when you can’t sleep,” he teased gently. We lay down, and he reached out to pull me into his arms, as he always did. My body reacted before my brain could. I flinched away, turning my back to him. “It’s too hot.” He paused for a second, then picked up the remote and lowered the AC by two degrees. “Clara, I’ve changed. You can’t keep punishing me based on baseless suspicions.” I said nothing. A long time passed. He probably thought I had fallen asleep. In the darkness, the glow of a phone screen lit up. The sound of fast typing was incredibly sharp in the quiet room. It was quick, accompanied by a faint, amused chuckle under his breath. I couldn’t sleep. Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, soaking the pillow. I stayed awake all night. The next morning, before he left for work, he kissed my forehead. “Don’t let your mind wander while you’re home alone. Call me immediately if you feel sick.” The moment the front door clicked shut, I bolted to the bathroom and threw up. A few minutes later. I turned on the faucet, washing the sour taste from my mouth. Walking back to the living room, I opened the iPad. The chat logs between him and Chloe showed a level of intimacy that proved they had never actually stopped talking. It was just like three years ago, when I caught them pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window of a hotel room, completely tangled up in each other. I bit my tongue hard, forcing my eyes open to read every single word. I watched as the man who refused to touch me after I got pregnant under the guise of “safety” discussed buying kinky sex toys with Chloe. I watched as the man who refused to let me accompany him on business trips because he “didn’t want to get distracted” took Chloe to out-of-town conferences, treating her to luxurious vacations. When Chloe asked him, “Who do you like better, Clara or me?” he replied instantly: “Her body is ruined after the pregnancy. She doesn’t compare to you.” Just one sentence. It completely destroyed me, the woman who had let her guard down to remarry him and bear his child. I was nailed to a cross of absolute humiliation. My tears splashed onto the screen, blurring the words. I opened my phone, pulled back my resignation letter, and submitted an application for an overseas transfer. My manager, Marcus, called me almost immediately. “Clara, I’m thrilled you want to come back. But a transfer to New York? Are you sure?” “This is a highly confidential project. Even though you can bring your family, you won’t be allowed to have any contact with the outside world for at least three years.” I gently stroked Lily’s sleeping face. “I’m sure.” This time, I would take my baby and disappear. Ethan would never find me. Just as I hung up, another message from Chloe popped up on Ethan’s iPad. “Ethan, you promised me. Once Clara gives birth to our baby, you’ll divorce her. When is that happening?” “Lily isn’t weaned yet. We have to wait until she’s at least two.” “Then promise me you won’t touch Clara again. Now that the baby is here, she’s off-limits.” My hands and feet went completely numb as I stared at the screen. So, the only reason he begged me to remarry him was because Chloe wanted a baby. But she was terrified of the pain, and she didn’t want stretch marks. So he suggested that I should be the one to carry it. “Clara is family, we can trust her. Once the baby is born, I’ll divorce her and take full custody.” I suddenly burst out laughing. But as I laughed, my throat felt like it was being choked.

For the past three years, everyone said Ethan loved me to death. He would drive four hours in the middle of the night just to get me the specific cinnamon rolls I suddenly craved. When I ran a high fever, he didn’t sleep for three days and three nights. Once my fever broke, he collapsed from exhaustion. During my pregnancy, when my legs cramped, he massaged them every single night before bed, only sneaking out to the living room to put ice packs on his sore hands after I fell asleep. It turned out all this devotion was just the compensation he paid me for being his surrogate. How pathetic. I had actually felt so bad for him balancing work and taking care of us that I planned to resign and become a full-time stay-at-home mom. As I sat in a daze, another notification chimed. “I saw you gave her a necklace in the bedroom the other day. Didn’t you say you bought that for me?” “If you want it, I’ll buy you another one.” She seemed to get upset. “That’s not the point! Why did you give her something you promised me?” “And last time, you said you’d watch a movie with me, but you stood me up because her breasts were engorged. You ran across the city to find her a lactation consultant. I waited until the movie ended, and you never showed.” “Are you being too nice to her?” He remained silent for a long time before replying. “Chloe, she is still your sister, not your enemy. We did her wrong. I’m just trying to make up for it.” Reading his words, I only felt a deep sense of irony. Chloe was supposed to be my closest family. Our parents passed away early, and I had taken on the burden of raising her from a very young age, which made me mature and reserved. Ethan used to say he loved my quiet elegance, but after meeting Chloe, he changed his tune, saying girls should be lively and free-spirited. I wasn’t blind to his special treatment of her. But when I asked him to keep his distance from my sister, he only laughed and ruffled my hair. He told me not to be petty, asking why I was jealous of my own sister. The things that followed were so dramatic that I hadn’t let myself think about them for a long time. They got closer and closer, eventually sharing the same straw. When we first got married, he even chose a wedding ring style that she liked. On our first anniversary, I walked in on them wrapped around each other. Chloe only stared back at me with a mocking look in her eyes. When I screamed and demanded to know why, her voice was quiet and cold: “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to share everything with me.” And Ethan? He shielded her behind his back, remaining completely silent. I couldn’t handle being betrayed by the two most important people in my life. I divorced him and blocked them both. I thought we would never cross paths again. But he went to such extreme lengths to get me back that my heart softened. Thinking about it now, I laughed like a fool, my tears falling uncontrollably. I was so stupid. Stupid enough to believe he had repented. Stupid enough to believe he actually cared. But once you peeled back the mask, the core was completely rotten. Thankfully, there was still time. After deciding to leave, I began clearing out my things. This house was decorated according to my taste. I chose most of the furniture. Ethan had said he wanted me to feel comfortable, to feel happy the moment I opened my eyes and came home. I chose the dusty blue curtains. I sat on dozens of sofas before choosing this one. The paintings on the wall, I had only glanced at them once, and he immediately bought them. Now that I thought about it, this wasn’t a home. It was a golden cage tailored specifically for me. The things I once loved now made me sick to look at. I stuffed them all into black trash bags. After clearing the clutter, I pulled out my suitcase and packed only the essentials. Ethan walked in, his brow furrowing as he looked around. “Why does the house look so empty?” I didn’t look up, continuing to pack. “Just getting rid of old things. I’m planning to buy some new stuff.” “As long as it makes you happy. Let me know if you need money.” His eyes drifted to my empty vanity. “I’m going on a business trip in a few days. Do you want me to bring you anything from the duty-free shop?” “No, thank you.” “Didn’t you say you wanted that designer face cream last time?” I gently patted Lily’s back to soothe her to sleep, my voice flat. “I don’t really want it anymore.” The things, the people, I didn’t want any of it anymore.

Before the overseas transfer, accompanying family members also needed a physical exam. After taking Lily for her checkup, I was waiting for the results when I saw Ethan and Chloe standing near the fever clinic. She was speaking in a whiny, nasal voice. “It’s all your fault. You kept the car AC so high yesterday, and now I have a fever.” He pinched her nose playfully. “Who was the one begging to do it in the car? Take this as a lesson. Don’t do it again.” The loudspeaker called his name, and his phone rang at the same time, so he didn’t go in with her. He hung up, turned around, and saw me standing there quietly. The moment our eyes met, he froze. Then, he quickly walked over. “Clara? What are you doing here? Is Lily sick?” He reached out to touch Lily’s face, but I took a step back, my voice calm and even. “Company physicals. I brought Lily along.” “Oh,” he glanced toward the clinic room, offering an unprompted explanation. “A client of mine got sick. I came to accompany them.” I didn’t ask what kind of client was so important that the CEO himself had to accompany them to a fever clinic. “I’m heading home first.” Before he could answer, I turned and walked away without looking back. I didn’t see the complicated look in his eyes behind me. That evening, he came home much earlier than usual. I was sitting in the living room watching TV, ignoring him. He walked over, holding a cake box. “Clara, didn’t you say you wanted to try the cake from this bakery? I took a detour after work to get it for you.” I glanced at the logo. I didn’t recognize the brand. But I had seen it on Chloe’s Instagram page a couple of days ago. The bakery was in the suburbs, miles away from his office. I smiled faintly. When you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned eventually. Seeing me smile, he thought I was happy. “Go ahead, try it.” He handed me a spoon. I didn’t take it, my smile vanishing. “Ethan, I never said I wanted to eat this.” He froze. I rarely called him by his first name. “I… I must have misremembered,” his breathing turned shallow, and he leaned in to kiss me. “Don’t be mad. Tell me what you want, and I’ll go buy it right now.” I pulled away. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” The color drained from his face. “Just because of a cake?” I didn’t feel like making up an excuse. I stood up. “Sure. Let’s go with that.” “Where would you even go if we divorced?” Seeing me walk toward the bedroom, he snapped, his words turning sharp and desperate. “Who would want a divorced woman with a kid?” My footsteps halted. The air in the room grew suffocatingly quiet. “I didn’t mean that…” his voice panicked. “I just… I can’t accept you wanting a divorce.” His eyes darted to the fruit knife on the table. He grabbed it, pressing the blade against his wrist. “You know how hard it was for me to get you back. You can’t break your promise.” I stared at his bloodshot eyes. I wanted to tell him that he was the one who broke his promise. But I realized it was pointless. In the silence, the blade pierced his skin, and bright red blood began to ooze out. This old trick might have made my heart ache in the past. But now, I felt nothing but numbness. Since a mutual divorce agreement was out of the question, I would have to take him to court. I took a deep breath and forced a relaxed smile. “I was just kidding. I was just a little upset because I saw you with another woman at the hospital today.” “I told you, she was just a client,” he let out a huge sigh of relief, dropping the knife. “What’s wrong with you lately? You’re always overthinking.” “Probably just postpartum mood swings,” I said quietly, turning to walk into the guest bedroom. “Lily and I will sleep in here for a while. I need some space to clear my head.” I didn’t push further, and he didn’t say another word. Over the next few days, we tacitly avoided the topic, both of us busy with our own things. He was busy preparing for his business trip, and I was busy preparing to disappear. Before he left, he slid a heavy gold bracelet onto my wrist. “Wait for me to get back. I have something important to tell you.” It was a Vance family heirloom. I had seen it in his family’s vault registry in his study. He had never offered it to me before, and I didn’t know why he was giving it to me now. But I didn’t care. On my phone, Chloe’s Instagram was updating constantly. Her latest post was a photo of the sunset over the Seine. In the corner of the frame sat a half-empty coffee cup, and the edge of a sleeve was visible. The agate cufflink on the sleeve was the birthday gift I had given Ethan last year. Her caption read: “Twilight in Paris is so long, perfect for two people to walk slowly. I never want this business trip with you to end.” The posts before that were just as lively. One day she was taking a selfie with a crepe in front of the Louvre, the next she was posing under the Eiffel Tower at night. He made frequent appearances in her photos, tying her shoelaces, holding an umbrella for her. I screenshotted every single one of them. Chloe seemed very happy. No one would ever guess that she was actually an abandoned baby left near a bridge. My parents had adopted her and kept the secret until the day they died. I wondered how she would react when she finally found out the truth about her birth. On the day of my flight to New York, I left a thick folder and a signed divorce agreement on the coffee table. Next to them sat the heirloom bracelet and my wedding ring. I left a note: “I am taking an overseas transfer for at least three years. Review the agreement. If you agree, sign it and mail it to my company’s legal department. If not, we will proceed with a contested divorce after two years of separation.”

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When I was chasing Victor, the cold and penniless campus heartthrob, I didn’t just cover his tuition. I even paid for his mother’s life-saving surgery. With nothing but raw passion and my family’s deep pockets, I finally won him over. I thought marriage would be my happily ever after. But Victor never loved me. Not for a single second. During our years of marriage, he wore a mask. Secretly, he loathed me, believing I was a wicked woman who used money to humiliate him. So, on the day I went into labor, which happened to be the wedding day of his first love, Vivian… In utter despair, he refused to sign the C-section consent form, leaving me and our unborn twins to die on the operating table. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in college. This time, I immediately donated the money to the school’s financial aid fund instead. Ignoring Victor’s shocked stare, I smiled and accepted the proposal of a wealthy heir who actually matched my status. “A power couple,” I said. “We were always meant to be.”

“Victor, if you’re struggling, you can apply for a tuition waiver.” “No need, Mr. Harrison. Alice will pay it for him.” I opened my eyes abruptly. I wasn’t on that blood-stained hospital bed anymore. I was sitting in a university classroom. Right now, our professor, Mr. Harrison, was trying to convince Victor to apply for financial aid. My classmates were smirking, expecting me to jump in and pay Victor’s tuition like I always did. I pinched myself. The sharp pain told me everything. I had been reborn, back to fifteen years ago. Back then, I was Victor’s ultimate simp. I followed the cold campus heartthrob everywhere, throwing money at him. Not only did I cover his tuition and fees, but I even begged my parents to get the city’s top surgeons for his sick mother. In my past life, I was helplessly infatuated with him. I gave him my heart and my wealth, but all I got in return was his cold shoulder. Yet, after ten years of my relentless chasing, he finally agreed to date me. I thought my love had finally melted his icy heart. In reality, he only did it because Vivian was injured and desperately needed money for surgery. Once I found out, I cried my eyes out and tried to let him go. But his eyes went red. “Alice, don’t leave me.” He promised over and over that we would build a real life together. He started treating me like a queen. Stupidly, I forgave him. Later, Victor took over my family’s business. I stepped back to focus on our home and soon got pregnant. But the day Vivian’s wedding invitation arrived, my beautiful dream shattered into a million pieces. When I had a difficult labor, Victor refused to sign the C-section consent form. As I was dying of pain on the delivery table, Victor leaned down, his eyes bloodshot, and whispered in my ear: “This is your punishment, Alice.” “If you hadn’t used your money to force me, threatening me with Vivian’s life and my mother’s medical bills, Vivian and I would never have broken up.” “Just die. Once you’re gone, I’ll inherit the Bowman family fortune and be with Vivian.” “Consider this your compensation to us!” The labor went on too long. My twins suffocated inside me, and I drew my last breath in agony. Three lives gone, just like that. I paid with my life to learn a lesson: some things can never be forced. Recalling my horrific death, I pulled back my hand just as I was about to hand over my credit card. I looked up at Victor, who was standing tall and proud. He still had that arrogant, aloof expression, rejecting Mr. Harrison’s suggestion to apply for financial aid.

The classroom started whispering. “Alice has spent so much on Victor anyway. What’s a little tuition?” I let out a cold, mocking laugh. Suddenly, Victor yelled: “I may be poor, but I have pride! I’d rather drop out of school than accept Alice’s charity!” He strutted over to my desk, chest puffed out. “Stop trying to bind me with your money. I wouldn’t be with you even if I were begging on the streets!” Hearing this, it hit me. Victor had been reborn too. In our past life, he would only frown and look reluctant, but he still accepted my money. This time, he was rejecting me outright. Great! What a man of steel! I turned around and handed a thick stack of cash to Mr. Harrison. “Mr. Harrison, since the school helps students in need, I’d like to donate this money directly to the university’s scholarship fund.” “I hope it goes to students who actually need it.” Mr. Harrison froze. Victor froze too. “Alice? Did I hear you right? Isn’t this money for Victor?” I nodded. I looked at Victor and caught the shock and humiliation written all over his face. Seeing the rich girl who used to chase him suddenly stop his allowance made his fragile ego crumble. He sneered, “Alice, stop playing hard to get. I said I won’t take your money.” “Unless you promise not to force me to be with you, then maybe I’ll let you sponsor me.” I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I asked loudly, “Victor, did I ever say this money was for you?” “Whether you swallow your pride to apply for aid or pack your bags and drop out, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.” The classmates, who were waiting for a show, burst into laughter. Victor was famous for being aloof and noble. But he was too used to being confident. After a brief moment of panic, he composed himself. He turned to me and said, “I only accepted your help before because you insisted. But don’t you dare think you can buy my love.” “Swear to everyone here that you won’t force me to date you, and I’ll accept your tuition money.” Wow. Even the onlookers couldn’t hold back their chuckles. It was their first time seeing a beggar try to be a chooser so shamelessly. “Is Victor deaf?” “Alice just said she’s giving the money to the school fund. When did she say she was sponsoring him?” “Man, if Alice hadn’t been boosting his ego all this time, where would he get this delusion?” “Maybe Alice really did force him because of his looks, and he’s just fed up?” Everyone was whispering, and the gossip quickly drifted back to me “forcing” Victor to date me.

I wasn’t about to carry the reputation of a desperate rich girl who bought a boyfriend for a second lifetime. I had to clear my name right then and there. I looked Victor dead in the eye and said coldly: “You still want my money?” “The school has financial aid, but you’re too proud to apply, expecting me to beg you to take my cash?” “Do I look that pathetic to you?” Seeing my serious face, Victor’s confident facade began to crack. He blustered, “I don’t care if you’re playing mind games or trying to blackmail me with money.” “You will never separate me from Vivian again, you wicked woman.” By now, the crowd understood. I was done being his ATM. Besides, I had never forced Victor to do anything in my life. How could I have “stolen” him with money? Sure, Alice used to be a simp, but times change. Who says I have to love Victor forever? With that established, no one could throw dirt on me anymore. “Victor, just apply for financial aid. Everyone knows your situation anyway.” “Yeah, dude. Don’t demand pride and cash at the same time. Let Alice go.” “Honestly, Alice gave you so much money, and she never forced you to date her.” Hearing a few voices take my side, the sheer injustice of my past death washed over me. I admitted I liked him. I liked his pride and aloofness, but I never forced him. Instead, he was always cruel to me. He took my money and then insulted me for being a useless rich girl. For him, I fought with my parents and moved into his tiny, run-down apartment. I took care of his sick mother, did all the chores, and even paused my studies to help his career. I was a silent giver, yet he always saw me as a monster who humiliated him with wealth. He believed I ruined his chance with Vivian and forced him into marriage. I used to hate that he couldn’t see my devotion. But now, I only hated his hypocrisy, cowardice, and double standards. I announced loudly, “Victor, yes, I used to chase you.” “But starting today, we are strangers. I want Mr. Harrison and everyone here to be my witness.” “And of course, you won’t get another single penny from me.” Leaving a stunned Victor behind, I turned on my heel and went home.

My parents were shocked and thrilled to see me home. Looking at them, and remembering how they suffered in my past life, I burst into tears. My dad, who had been furious with me for obsessing over Victor, panicked when he saw me cry. “Alice… if you really love him that much, I won’t stop you!” My mom was heartbroken. Thinking someone had bullied me, she wanted to go pull some hairs out. I choked back my sobs. “No, Dad. It’s over. I was stupid.” “Victor just wanted to bleed us dry. I was ungrateful and made you guys suffer for nothing.” My dad let out a massive sigh of relief. He didn’t care why I suddenly woke up; he was just glad I did. I wiped my tears and sat down at the dining table under their warm gazes. The table was packed with my favorite dishes. Mom smiled, “Eat up, sweetheart. You’ve gotten so thin lately.” In my past life, to protect Victor’s fragile ego, I wore cheap clothes, took the bus, and refused to use our family chauffeur. Now, looking at my designer clothes and perfect makeup in the mirror, I found my past self hilarious. I was born to stand on top of the world. Why did I drag myself through the mud for a piece of trash? The next day, I had my chauffeur park my Maybach right at the school entrance. As the door opened, whispers erupted. “Is that Alice in a Maybach?” “Didn’t she walk to school every day just to spare Victor’s feelings?” I walked past the crowd with my head held high, only to be blocked by Victor at the corner of the hallway. His collar was stained with grease, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. I glanced at it. It was a tuition warning letter. “Move,” I said, not even looking at him. “Alice!” He grabbed the strap of my designer bag, pulling so hard I almost fell. “Do you think playing hard to get will make me bow down to you?” I slapped his hand away and sneered, “Victor, you’re blocking my way.” His breathing turned shallow, and he slammed the letter against the wall. “Stop pretending! Didn’t you beg me to spend your money in our last life?” “Wait… did you get reborn too?” He stepped closer. “So what if you did? You’re still the same desperate girl who would do anything for me!” “Go to the office right now, cancel that donation, and pay my tuition! And Vivian’s too!” I almost laughed out loud. “Why on earth would I do that?” “Because you’re the reason she can’t afford school!”

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I was on a romantic getaway abroad with my fiancée, Grace Fletcher, when our plane went down in a catastrophic crash. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been reborn. We were back to the days when we had just met. In my past life, I loved her to the point of madness for three years. I spoiled her rotten, but she never allowed me to get physically close to her, using her extreme germophobia as an excuse. It was only by pure accident that I discovered the truth—she was still deeply in love with her childhood best friend, Isaac Vance. Having been given a second chance at life, I decided to let her go. I chose to step aside and stop entangling myself with her. Five years had passed. Grace, now an award-winning actress, was walking arm-in-arm with her childhood sweetheart, Isaac, handing out wedding invitations to a line of her loyal fans. When she noticed me standing alone at the very back of the line, her face twisted with sheer disdain. “Edward, no matter how amazing I am, is it really necessary for you to stalk me through two lifetimes?” I couldn’t be bothered to waste my breath on her. Instead, I reached down and scooped up my daughter, Maria, into my arms. The color instantly drained from Grace’s face. She screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking with hysteria: “You promised me! You said you would only ever marry me, and that I was the only one allowed to be the mother of your children!”

Five years later, I ran into Grace again at an exclusive private country club. I had just finished planning, coordinating, and setting up three major weddings back-to-back. Absolutely exhausted and looking a bit of a mess, I was sitting in a quiet corner of the lobby, nursing a bottle of water. Nearby, Grace and Isaac were handing out invitations to a crowd of adoring fans, soaking in their endless flattery. “Grace, you’re literally the breakout star of the industry! An Academy Award in just three years!” “And you and Isaac are finally getting married! You really have it all!” “Seriously! Grace is the most sought-after actress both here and abroad. Her wealth and connections are insane now.” “Isaac is a rising star in Los Angeles’ elite circles, too. You guys are the definition of couple goals!” “Grace, if your next movie needs extras, please throw us a bone! Let us experience the star life too.” “Yeah, let us ride your coattails and make some quick cash!” Grace smiled warmly, pointing at the man beside her. “Once our wedding is over, I’ll make sure Isaac sets something up for you guys.” Suddenly, one of the fans piped up, “Hey, Grace, is that guy Edward still stalking you?” “Ugh, remember how he used to follow you around like a lost puppy? It was so annoying.” “Yeah, rumor has it that the first TV show you invested in was actually based on your story with him.” Hearing my name, I paused and looked up. Grace’s smile vanished, and she frowned in annoyance. Being the perfect, attentive fiancé, Isaac quickly stepped in with a smooth smile. “Oh, come on, guys. Those are just internet rumors.” “If Grace and Edward actually had anything going on, would I be standing here handing out our wedding invitations today?” The young fans nodded in agreement, immediately turning their anger on the internet trolls who started the rumors. Sitting in my corner, I let out a mocking, silent laugh. In our past life, Grace had once told me that if she ever became an actress, she would tell the whole world our love story so everyone would envy how pure our love was. Back then, we were both kids raised by single parents. We met through a mutual college roommate and gradually became inseparable. Perhaps because we shared similar lonely childhoods, we always had endless things to talk about. After a group dinner one night, Grace got a little tipsy and confessed her feelings to me. With blushing cheeks, she had said, “Edward, you’ve been in my heart for so long. I want to be with you forever.” Young and hopelessly in love, I happily agreed. At that time, I genuinely believed I had found my soulmate. But reality soon started slapping me in the face. Clank! My water bottle slipped and rolled across the marble floor, the sharp noise instantly drawing everyone’s attention to my corner. “Wait, isn’t that Edward? Is he seriously stalking Grace again?” “Look at that blue utility jumpsuit. Don’t tell me he’s working here as a janitor?” “We, as Grace’s loyal fans, are all high-class people with actual money.” “You sneaked in here without an invitation. Don’t get caught by the paparazzi, you’ll make Grace look bad!” “Honestly, let’s just start a GoFundMe and throw him a thousand bucks so he can get the hell out of here! He’s embarrassing us!” The crowd erupted into nasty laughter, throwing looks of pure disgust my way. I calmly picked up my water bottle, wiped it down with a napkin, and ignored them. Grace looked at me with a complicated expression, her voice dripping with condescension. “Edward, look at yourself. What have you become?” Isaac wrapped a comforting arm around her waist and said gently, “Now, Grace, we did know Edward back in the day.” “Since he’s reduced to working as a low-level setup guy here, we should show some charity and help him out.”

Isaac looked at me, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Seriously, Edward, if you’ve been struggling so hard these past five years, you should have just asked us for help!” “Even if you were too embarrassed to face Grace, you could have come to beg me.” “A man with no money and no stable job… it’s just pathetic.” The fans cheered at Isaac’s words, praising his generosity. I got up, opened the heavy glass doors for a pregnant woman walking by, and then turned back to decline his offer. “No, thank you. I can feed myself.” Having just managed three luxury weddings in a row, my entire body was aching. All I wanted was to sit down and rest. Since I was already wearing my durable work clothes, I didn’t care about manners and simply sat back down on the clean floor. The fans gasped, looking like they wanted to physically throw me out. “Wow, the nerve of this guy! Isaac was just being nice, who do you think you are?” “He’s staying here on purpose just to play the victim card in front of Grace.” “He wants Grace to pity him and throw him some cash! Disgusting!” A storm of emotions flashed through Grace’s eyes, her frown deepening. Suddenly, she reached into her designer bag, pulled out an expensive emerald necklace, and threw it right into my lap. “Pawn it. The cash you get will be enough to buy a decent apartment.” “Whether you live in it or rent it out, you won’t have to humiliate yourself working as a janitor anymore.” “Edward, there’s no need to make yourself look this miserable. No matter how much you loved me, we are in the past now.” “I don’t even hold a grudge against you anymore.” “Can’t we just live our own lives? Why do you have to show up like this and make things awkward for both of us?!” Leaning against the wall, I looked at her, utterly baffled by her sudden outburst. I couldn’t understand what I had done in our past life—where I had literally given her my heart and soul—that made her “grudge-holding” and so determined to completely cut me out of her life after we both got a reset. In our past life, Grace carried the heavy burden of her mother’s terminal cancer bills. But she was vain and beautiful, obsessed with the dream of becoming a famous Hollywood star. To support her dream and be her rock, I didn’t hesitate to remortgage the house my parents left me and gave her every single penny. When she said she wanted to move to another state to attend an elite acting school but worried about her hospitalized mother, I didn’t hesitate. I quit my job just as I was about to be promoted to regional manager. I spent my days and nights at the hospital, taking care of her dying mother so she could pursue her Hollywood dream without any worries. Back then, I gave her everything. I just wanted her to know that I loved her, and that she could lean on me. But when she was preparing for a crucial audition and couldn’t find a single designer dress in her closet, she completely snapped. She lost her mind, scratching my arms until they bled. “I was crazy! Why did I ever get stuck with a loser like you?!” “You can’t give me anything! If I had just accepted Isaac’s sponsorship, I wouldn’t be struggling like this!” “I hate myself for choosing you!” From that day on, Grace became a completely different person. She stopped talking about her acting dreams with excitement, and she stopped going to auditions. Our relationship turned ice-cold. The memory of her harsh words still felt like a physical stab to my chest. To cheer me up, a close friend gifted me two tickets for a three-day tropical getaway. Terrified of losing her, I got down on one knee on the plane and proposed. “Grace, you are the only one I want to marry. Let’s make this official.” But I would never forget the look of absolute disgust in her eyes. She slapped the silver ring out of my hand and snapped, “No money, no house, and you want to get married? Are you insane?” “Do you have zero self-awareness? How did you even come up with such a pathetic idea?” “Let me make this clear. I could marry anyone in the world, but you? Never.” Her cold, ruthless words made me realize it was truly over. I sat back in my seat, utterly hollowed out. Even when the plane began to violently shake and dive, I felt no fear. As the nose of the plane plunged toward the ocean, I closed my eyes and whispered in my heart: Let it end. Let this messy, miserable life finally end.

The tiny spark of affection I once had for Grace had been completely incinerated in that plane crash. In this new life, we had both silently agreed to ignore each other’s existence, living like parallel lines that would never intersect. Even running into her now, I had zero desire to have anything to do with her. I calmly picked up the emerald necklace and tossed it back into her lap. “Miss Fletcher, if you want to make a charitable donation, the orphanage is down the street. I’m not your trash can.” Grace’s face flushed with anger. “Edward! You know exactly what I’m trying to do. Why do you have to twist my words like this?” “Miss Fletcher,” I replied, my voice cold and flat. “You are a taken woman. Please mind your boundaries.” “I don’t need to understand your intentions, nor do I care. I make enough money to support myself, and I’m perfectly content.” With that, I turned my back on her. Furious, Grace slammed the emerald necklace onto the floor, the heavy gems making a sharp clattering sound. Isaac’s expression darkened instantly. He picked up the necklace, dusting it off, and looked at me with a condescending, patronizing smile. “Edward, we’re both men here. I get it, you’re trying to save face.” “But Grace is my fiancée, and since she sincerely wants to help you, I’ll make sure it happens.” “Since you’re too proud to accept a valuable piece of jewelry, how about a comfortable, easy job?” “Grace and I just got a golden retriever, and we need a live-in dog nanny. The pay is five thousand dollars a month, room and board included.” “Drop the useless pride, Edward. Come report to our mansion tomorrow morning.” The fans immediately began to murmur in awe. “Oh my god! Grace and Isaac are literally saints!” “They’re basically offering to feed him and pay for his retirement.” “Playing with a puppy pays way better than being a janitor!” “If he rejects this, he’s just being greedy and probably wants to blackmail Grace for more!” “Seriously, does he not look in the mirror? He’s not even a fraction of the man Isaac is!” My brows furrowed. “No interest,” I said coldly. Grace lost her patience and snapped, “Fine! If you love being a lowly setup guy so much, keep doing it. Go ahead and rot at the bottom of society!” Seeing Grace turn hostile toward me, her rabid fans immediately jumped at the chance to please her. The fan who had been called out earlier for spreading rumors stepped right in front of me, a nasty, mocking sneer on her face. “Hey, Edward, aren’t you just holding out for more money?” “Tell you what. If you crawl through my legs ten times and call me ‘gorgeous’ each time, I’ll gladly pay for your rent and meals. What do you say?” The girls next to her, eager to show off in front of Grace, surged forward and aggressively shoved me. Losing my balance, I tripped and fell hard right at her feet, my forehead hitting the floor as if I were bowing to her. “What the hell is wrong with you guys?!” Grace’s face turned furious. She rushed over and violently shoved the fans away. “Is this the kind of garbage behavior my fan club represents? Who gave you the right to do this?” “If anyone ever pulls a disgusting, low-class stunt like this in front of me again, get the hell out of my sight! You’re making me sick!” The fans who had been pushed to the ground were completely stunned. Realizing they had crossed a line, they burst into tears, begging Grace for forgiveness. But Grace showed no mercy, coldly kicking their hands away. Isaac quickly grabbed her arm, whispering urgently, “Grace, calm down. People are watching. Don’t let anyone record this and twist it!” “You just won Best Actress! You need to protect your public image!” Grace glared at the crying fans, her chest heaving with anger. “Then they shouldn’t be acting like trash under my name!” I slowly sat up, feeling incredibly perplexed. Did Grace just turn on her own fans… to defend me? Isaac quickly tried to change the subject, pointing to the massive LED screen in the club lobby. “Grace, do you know why I booked your fan meetup at this specific private club?” “The owner of this place is a legendary billionaire tycoon. She owns over fifty major media, entertainment, and production companies.” “Almost all the award-winning blockbusters recently were produced by her companies. Everyone in the industry is desperate to get a meeting with her.” “Today, she’s bringing her family here for a routine inspection.” “If we can get on her good side, our careers will skyrocket!” The fans who had been crying a moment ago immediately forgot their tears and crowded around the entrance, craneing their necks to look outside. A moment later, a sleek, custom stretch Lincoln pulled up at the entrance. A crowd of elite bodyguards and private nannies walked in, surrounding a beautiful little girl. A fan squealed in excitement, “Oh my god, the billionaire’s family is here!” I tried to step through the crowd to see the little girl. But a fan violently shoved her elbow into my chest. “Get out of the way, loser! Only Grace’s VIP fans get to stand here. Who do you think you are?” “You insulted Grace and refused to be my boy toy. You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as us!” Isaac smirked slightly, giving the fan an encouraging look, and another girl pushed me hard. The little girl in the center of the crowd suddenly gasped, her face turning pale. She broke away from her nannies, running past the security guards straight toward me. “Daddy! Are you okay?”

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In my husband Alex’s car accident insurance claim, I saw a life insurance policy worth five million dollars. The beneficiary wasn’t me. It wasn’t our four-year-old daughter, Betty, either. It was a name I had never heard of—Aurora. I stared at the name. The blood in my veins turned to ice. The insurance agent on the other end of the line was still speaking in a polite, professional tone: “Mrs. Wilson, your husband’s injuries are not severe. It’s mostly soft tissue bruising. You don’t need to worry too much.” “Regarding this policy…” “I got it.” I heard my own voice. It was incredibly calm—scarily calm. “Thank you.” I hung up and sat on the bench in the hospital corridor, clutching the thin photocopy of the document. There it was, in black and white: Policyholder: Alex Wilson; Insured: Alex Wilson; Beneficiary: Aurora. The policy was opened five years ago. The very first year of our marriage. The annual premium: fifty thousand dollars. Paid consecutively for five years. That was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in total. For the past five years, I had stood by his side through his startup journey. I watched him go from having absolutely nothing to building a decently sized tech company. I gave up my job as a Creative Design Director to become a stay-at-home mom, being his strongest support system. I poured my entire life savings and the $600,000 cash gift my parents gave us for our wedding straight into his so-called tech startup. To save money, I scoured grocery apps for coupons. I only bought Betty’s clothes from the clearance racks at Target. The trench coat I was wearing right now was one I had bought three years ago. Yet, in a dark corner I knew nothing about, he was spending fifty thousand dollars a year to secure a five-million-dollar future for a strange woman. I suddenly wanted to laugh. Alex, my dear husband. What on earth did you take me for?

“Christy? What are you doing here?” Alex was lying in the hospital bed, his left leg in a cast. When he saw me, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he quickly hid it. “I came to see you.” I set down the insulated food jar. Inside was the slow-cooked oxtail soup he loved most. I had simmered it for four hours. “It’s just a minor injury. You didn’t have to trouble yourself.” He tried to sit up, but the movement winced his wound, making him gasp. I walked over, adjusted the bed head, and placed a pillow behind his back. “Is the office busy? Where is Betty?” he asked. “The office is fine. I dropped Betty off at my mom’s place.” I pulled my hands back, opened the container, ladled a bowl of soup, and handed it to him. “The doctor said you have a minor bone fracture. You need bed rest for three months.” “Three months?” He frowned. “What about the company? We have a crucial project launching right now.” “Your health comes first,” I said quietly, watching him take sip after sip of the soup. After a few mouthfuls, he seemed to remember something and put the bowl down. “By the way, did the insurance company call you?” “Yes.” “What did they say?” His eyes darted away. “Nothing much. Just verifying some basic details.” I lowered my gaze, staring at the cast on his leg. “Alex, when I was organizing the claim files today, I saw your accidental life insurance policy.” His hand shook, almost imperceptibly. “Oh… that one. I bought it years ago.” He pretended to be casual, picking up his spoon to stir the soup. “The beneficiary is Aurora,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Who is she?” Alex’s face turned instantly pale. His hand froze mid-air. A drop of soup dripped from the spoon, staining the white bedsheet with a greasy spot. “Christy, I…” He opened his mouth, trying to find a plausible excuse. “Who is she?” I repeated. The air in the room seemed to freeze. He avoided my gaze and remained silent for a long time. It was so long that I thought he wouldn’t answer at all. “…She’s a… friend of mine,” he finally spoke, his voice raspy. “A friend?” I laughed. The sound was sharp and mocking in the quiet room. “What kind of friend is worth you keeping secrets, spending fifty thousand dollars a year to buy her a five-million-dollar safety net?” I took a step closer. I slammed the lid of the food jar onto the nightstand, making a sharp clattering sound. “Alex, we’ve been married for five years. How did I not know you had a friend you’d trust with your life and death?” He didn’t dare look at me anymore. His eyes fixed on the greasy stain on the bedsheet as if it held his saving grace. “Christy, it’s not what you think,” he muttered weakly. “Aurora has a bad heart. She was born with congenital heart disease. I just wanted to leave her some security.” “Congenital heart disease?” I repeated, finding it utterly ridiculous. “Alex, do you actually believe that lie yourself?” “It’s true!” He looked up quickly, trying to grab my hand, but I stepped back to avoid him. “She’s the daughter of my college mentor. Years ago, he died in an accident while saving my life.” “On his deathbed, he entrusted Aurora to me. I promised him I would take care of her for the rest of her life.” He spoke with such passion, his eyes even turning red. What a touching story. A heroic mentor, a frail orphan girl, and a loyal student. If the beneficiary of that policy weren’t Aurora instead of me, I would have clapped for my husband’s “noble character.” “Your mentor? How come I’ve never heard you mention him?” I looked at him coldly. “I went to your college graduation. Your mentor, Professor Johnson, just retired this year. He actually emailed us baby pictures of his grandson last month.”

Alex’s face went from pale to ash gray. He probably didn’t expect me to remember such a detail so clearly. “It was another professor,” he stammered, still trying to fight it. “Which one? What’s his name? What year did he pass away? I’ll go to your university’s archives tomorrow to check.” He fell completely silent. The room became dead quiet. I looked at him. This was the man I had loved for five years, the man I had given my youth and savings to. In this moment, I felt nothing but disgust. “Alex.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the nausea rising in my throat. “I am asking you one last time. Who is Aurora?” He remained silent for a long time, until the sunlight outside shifted its angle. Finally, he looked up, his eyes filled with exhaustion and silent pleading. “Christy, just don’t ask, okay?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m begging you. Just blame me. But there is really nothing romantic between us.” “I’ll find a way to cancel that policy.” “Cancel it?” I laughed. “Five years. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. And you say you’ll just ‘cancel’ it?” “Alex, that was our family’s money! That was the startup capital I saved by pinching pennies! That was Betty’s college fund!” My voice rose uncontrollably, my chest heaving. He was startled by my reaction. His lips trembled. “Christy, don’t be mad. I’ll pay you back…” “With what?” I glared at him. “Your company just got on track. Every single penny needs to be reinvested into projects. Tell me, where are you getting the money to pay me back?” He had no answer. Looking at his pathetic, guilty face, the last shred of warmth in my heart died. I turned around and grabbed my bag. “Where are you going?” he asked frantically. “Home.” I didn’t look back. “Have a good recovery, Mr. Wilson.” I spat out “Mr. Wilson” coldly. As I walked out of the hospital lobby, the bright sunlight stung my eyes. I stood by the curb and called my best friend, Charlotte. Charlotte was a fierce, sharp-witted corporate lawyer, and the only person I trusted completely. The moment she picked up, her voice came through: “Hey Christy, what’s wrong? You sound off.” “Charlotte.” My voice shook, but I forced myself to stay steady. “Can you help me dig into someone?” “Who?” “Aurora.” Saying the name felt like swallowing a needle. “Female. That’s her name. I don’t know anything else.” The line went silent for a few seconds. “Is this about Alex?” Charlotte asked sharply. “Yes.” “Alright.” She didn’t press further. “Give me half a day. Where are you now? Don’t be alone.” “I’m outside the hospital, about to head home.” “Okay. I’ll handle my meetings and come find you.” “Remember, until we have all the facts, do not make a move. Don’t pick a fight with him.” “I know.” After hanging up, I took an Uber home. The house was empty. Without Betty’s laughter, it felt cold and hollow. I walked into our bedroom and opened the closet. The left side was mine—only a few clothes hung there. Mostly cotton tees and jeans. The most expensive piece was a trench coat I bought three years ago. The right side was Alex’s—expensive suits, designer shirts, silk ties, all organized and perfectly pressed. Every single piece cost a fortune. He had told me that in business, appearance was everything. I had believed him. I thought him dressing sharp was for our family, for our future. How pathetic of me. I walked into the study and booted up his laptop. The password was Betty’s birthday. I used to be deeply moved by this detail, thinking he kept us close to his heart. Now, it just felt like a mockery. I searched the name “Aurora.” Soon, an account popped up on Instagram. The profile picture was a woman’s silhouette. She had long, flowing hair and stood in a field of flowers, looking elegant and artistic. Her handle was simply “Aurora.” Her bio read: Artist. Idealist. I clicked in. Her feed was filled with an aesthetic lifestyle—art exhibitions, luxury travels, fine dining, fresh flowers. Every photo looked like a movie still. She was living the life I had once dreamed of, the life I had sacrificed to support Alex.

I scrolled down. A post from three weeks ago caught my eye. It was a photo of a painting. The caption read: “When my inspiration runs dry, thank god I have you.” The painting depicted a beach with a lighthouse. I knew that lighthouse all too well. It was the beach in my hometown. It was the exact spot where Alex and I had officially started dating. He had told me I was his lighthouse. My fingers shook uncontrollably as I opened the comments section. The top comment was from an account named “A.W.” The profile picture was just a black screen. He had replied with just one word: “Always.” A.W. Alex Wilson. I clicked on “A.W.’s” profile. It was completely empty. He only followed one person—Aurora. I went back to Aurora’s Instagram and kept scrolling. I saw countless photos of her traveling the world. The Eiffel Tower in Paris, cherry blossoms in Kyoto, blue-domed churches in Santorini. I looked at them one by one, matching the dates of her photos with the dates in my memory when Alex was “away on business.” Paris, three years ago: He said he was attending a tech summit in New York. Kyoto, two years ago: He said he was meeting a client in Toronto. Santorini, last year: He said it was a company retreat in Miami. It turned out his “business trips” and “company retreats” were actually spent accompanying another woman on the other side of the world, indulging in romance. And what was I doing during those times? I was probably haggling over grocery prices at the market. I was probably holding a feverish Betty in my arms, waiting in line alone at the ER. I was probably at home, washing piles of his dirty socks, looking forward to him coming home from his “hard work.” I shut the laptop down. I felt utterly frozen, as if I had been dropped into a glacial lake. The love I believed in, the marriage I was so proud of—it was all a carefully crafted scam from the very beginning. And I was the fool who had been kept in the dark the longest.

In the afternoon, Charlotte arrived. The moment she stepped in, she gave me a tight hug. “I got everything.” She pressed me down onto the sofa and handed me a warm cup of water. “Drink this, calm down, and listen to me.” I held the cup and nodded. “Aurora, twenty-eight, professional painter. She owns her own gallery and studio in the city’s trendiest art district.” Charlotte spoke fast and clear. “She has a luxury condo downtown, 1,700 square feet, fully paid off. It was bought four years ago.” “And she has zero history of heart disease. She’s perfectly healthy.” “Four years ago…” I whispered. That was the second year of our marriage. That was when I handed Alex our wedding fund cash to help him expand his company. “Exactly,” Charlotte looked at me, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I also checked her gallery. She is the legal representative, but the biggest investor is… Alex’s company.” “How much did he invest?” “Over three million dollars in total.” “On the books, it was masked as ‘art procurement’ and ‘brand image design’ expenses.” I laughed. What a brilliant “art procurement.” What a creative “brand image design.” He used my money to fund his mistress’s dreams, throwing millions to pave a glamorous path for her. Meanwhile, I, his legal wife, had to hesitate before buying a single piece of new clothing. “There’s more.” Charlotte paused, pulling a document from her bag. “This is the equity structure of Alex’s company. Take a look.” I took it. My hands were shaking violently. It was clearly written. Alex owned 60%, his partner Jack owned 30%, and the remaining 10%… was under Aurora’s name. “Jack is his co-founder, I know that.” I pointed at Aurora’s name. “But what is this ten percent?” “The corporate registry shows this ten percent was transferred from Alex’s personal shares to her, free of charge, three years ago.” Three years ago. Again. The exact year he went to Paris with her. “A free transfer?” “Yes.” Charlotte’s expression was grim. “Christy, this means legally, Aurora is a shareholder in Alex’s company. She gets annual dividends.” I stared at the document, my vision blurring. I had poured my life savings into his company, and all I got was the empty title of a “supportive wife.” But that woman, without contributing a single dime, became a shareholder and sat back to collect dividends every year. Alex, you really are something else. What did you think of me? A free housekeeper who guards your house, bears your child, serves you, and funds your mistress? “Christy, are you okay?” Charlotte asked worriedly. I shook my head and set the papers back on the table. “I’m fine.” My voice was incredibly calm, surprising even myself. “Charlotte, if I file for divorce right now, what can I get?” Charlotte blinked, then took a professional tone. “Don’t rush. Let’s take this step by step. First, the most important thing is evidence.” “I have it,” I said. “The five-million-dollar insurance policy, and everything you just found.” “It’s not enough,” Charlotte shook her head. “These only prove his infidelity and the dissipation of marital assets. But to get back what you truly deserve, we need ironclad proof, especially the paper trail of that $600,000 your parents gave him.” “I bank-transferred that money to him in two installments. There are bank records.” “Did you write a memo on the transfer?” “No. Back then… I trusted him completely.” Charlotte sighed. “That makes things trickier.” “He can easily argue that the money was a gift, or that it was already spent on family expenses. To prove it was a business investment and that he misappropriated it, we need to get our hands on the company’s internal accounting books.” “He will never give them to me.” “I know,” Charlotte’s eyes turned sharp. “So, we have to find a way to get them ourselves.”

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My engagement video on TikTok went viral. Just as I was about to close the comment section, a top comment with tens of thousands of likes caught my eye and made me laugh. “Your fiancé and the girl standing next to him definitely have something going on. Their outfits look more like a matching couple’s set than yours.” “Agreed. And in that last photo, the guy has a smudge on his upper lip that perfectly matches her lipstick. Looks like Chanel Rouge Allure shade 154.” I replied: “Thanks for the concern, guys! But you’re overthinking it. She’s my best friend, and she and my fiancé have never really gotten along. It’s just a coincidence.” After hitting send, a strange impulse drove me to zoom in on the picture. I stared at the reddish smudge on his lip, lost in thought. I didn’t own that shade. But it was my best friend’s absolute favorite. A second later, I shook my head and laughed at myself, thinking I was being paranoid. I still remembered the first time I introduced Ethan to my best friend, Rachel. They literally ended up arguing in the private dining room. Ever since then, they would bicker every time they met. Whenever we went out, I had to choose between the two of them to avoid a scene. Tonight, Ethan was working late at the office. I turned on one of my usual sleep-aid live streams on TikTok. Just as I was drifting off, a familiar voice jolted me awake. “I hooked up with my best friend’s fiancé. I don’t want to lose either of them. What should I do?” I sat straight up in bed, completely wide awake. Although the woman on the split-screen stream was wearing sunglasses and a face mask, I recognized her instantly. It was Rachel.

My sleepiness vanished. I sat there in the dark, my heart hammering against my ribs. On the screen, the host scolded her for a bit before kicking her off the live stream. I immediately searched for her username. It was clearly a burner account, and it was set to private. I requested to follow her, but she didn’t accept it right away. Rachel was a night owl; there was no way she was asleep at this hour. I changed my Snapchat display name to “Team True Love,” and a second later, she accepted my request. Rachel’s profile had dozens of private videos. Every single one of them showed her and Ethan in incredibly intimate poses. As I scrolled down, I realized that every time Ethan claimed he was working late, he was actually with her. My hands shook so violently I could barely hold my phone. “Did you see that live stream? Do you think we actually have a future together?” A message from Rachel popped up. Reading those two short sentences felt like a physical blow to my chest. I bit my lower lip hard, typing back: “Yeah. When did you guys start seeing each other? Aren’t you afraid your best friend will cut you off?” Rachel replied almost instantly: “We’ve been together for over a year. He confessed to me first.” “Of course I’m scared. But I can’t control my heart. I think once she finds out, she’ll understand.” My fingers froze. The phone slipped from my hand and fell onto my lap, but I couldn’t even feel the impact. Ethan and I had been engaged for exactly one year and two months. Rachel had met him for the very first time at our engagement party. Rachel sent a few more messages after that, but I couldn’t bring myself to read them. Just then, a notification popped up at the top of my screen. “Ethan, who you follow, just shared a new post.” I tapped into Ethan’s Instagram. It was a new photo. I recognized the background instantly—it was Rachel’s bedroom. One of our mutual friends had commented: “You spent the night at Rachel’s and actually dared to post it on Instagram?” “Aren’t you afraid Chloe will find out?” Ethan replied: “She hasn’t logged into Instagram in ages. She won’t notice.” With trembling hands, I scrolled through Ethan’s Instagram feed. I discovered that he had soft-launched his relationship with Rachel a year ago. He had even posted a picture of them kissing passionately in the dark. I stared at the photo, zooming in over and over again. But no matter how hard I tried to deny it, the man in the photo was indeed my fiancé, Ethan. And the woman was my best friend, Rachel. In the three years I had been with Ethan, I had asked him countless times to post about us on Instagram. He had always refused, giving me all kinds of excuses. Yet, he had no problem declaring his love for my best friend on his secret account. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next morning, Ethan came home. He walked into the bedroom as usual, leaning down to kiss my forehead. As he drew closer, a heavy scent of perfume washed over me. It was Rachel’s signature scent. I opened my eyes, startling him. “Chloe, why are you up so early?” I subtly pulled back, creating some distance between us. “Couldn’t sleep. Were you out drinking with clients again? The perfume smell is overwhelming. Go take a shower.” A flash of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes. He let out a forced laugh and quickly headed to the bathroom. Once I heard the shower running, I carefully picked up his phone. I automatically entered his birthday. “Incorrect Password.” My fingertips trembled. In all the years we had been together, he had never changed his passcode. Suppressing the lump in my throat, I tried entering Rachel’s birthday. It unlocked. No matter how careful Ethan thought he was, he had left traces. I opened his hidden photo album. It was filled with photos of him and Rachel—taking selfies in different countries, hugging on beaches. Every time his company had a business trip that allowed a plus-one, I had asked to go. But he had always turned me down. “Chloe, I’m going there to work. Having you there will only distract me.” I had genuinely believed he was just keeping his professional and personal life separate. But now I knew. He had been taking another woman with him, letting her live the life that belonged to me. The sound of the running water began to fade. Realizing Ethan was about to come out, I quickly put the phone back and pretended nothing had happened. “Chloe, come back to bed. I’m exhausted.” Ethan pulled me into his arms as he lay back down. Just thinking about how these hands had held Rachel in the exact same way made me want to throw up. As he drifted off to sleep, I went to push him away, but then I heard him mumble: “Rachel… don’t leave me. I love you.” I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I couldn’t move. Ethan was a reserved man. He had never said “I love you” to me. Even at our engagement party, he had only whispered: “Chloe, you’re finally mine.” I turned my head away, wiping my tears silently. I slipped out of bed, walked out of the room, and dialed a number. “Hi, this is Chloe. Regarding the wedding in two weeks… I’d like to change the bride’s name on the program to Rachel.”

When Ethan woke up, he reached out to the empty, cold space beside him, looking a bit dazed. Usually, I would be right there, eagerly waiting for him to wake up. But not today. He washed up and came downstairs. I was sitting on the couch, watching our engagement video. “Chloe, you look really pale. Did my sleep-talking wake you up?” I could hear the subtle questioning in Ethan’s voice. My face remained blank. “No.” He let out a quiet sigh of relief and sat down beside me. “What are you watching? I’ll watch with you.” I paused the video. “Hold on. Someone else is coming.” Before Ethan could ask, the doorbell rang. I got up to open it. Rachel had completely changed her style today. She was wearing a simple white sundress, with barely-there makeup. I looked her up and down, a cold smile playing on my lips. “Rachel, this isn’t like you. What’s the occasion? Did you find a new guy to impress?” I didn’t miss the flicker of expression on Rachel’s face. Her smile stiffened, and she avoided my gaze. “No, I just… wanted to try out the style you like.” I said nothing. I knew exactly who she was trying to impress. Ethan loved the “innocent, pure girl” look, which was why I had spent years dressing up in white dresses just to please him. I stepped aside to let her in. When Ethan looked up, his eyes practically locked onto her. Realizing he was staring, he cleared his throat and started putting on his usual act. “Rachel? What are the odds of you showing up this early? Great, now I’ve lost my appetite for breakfast.” Rachel shot back, matching his energy: “Oh, please, Ethan. You think I want to see your face? If it weren’t for Chloe, I wouldn’t even step foot in your house.” I watched them trade barbs. How had I never noticed how fake their acting was? If I hadn’t known the truth, I would have stepped in to play peacemaker. But now, I just stood there, watching the show, finding it almost laughable. Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, Ethan gave a cold huff, wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and sat down. As we turned, I caught a fleeting glimpse of jealousy and hurt in Rachel’s eyes. Probably to avoid suspicion, she chose to sit on the armchair furthest from us. Now that everyone was here, I pressed play on the video. The screen showed a close-up. It was Ethan and Rachel, whispering intimately in a corner, completely ignoring me. “Ethan, since when did you and Rachel get so close? I had no idea.” “Seeing how you two were practically at each other’s throats just now, one might think you’re just putting on a show for me.” I threw the question out casually. Rachel, already on edge, looked at me in pure panic. “Chloe, you’re overthinking it. It must be the camera angle. You know how much I can’t stand him.” Ethan took a sip of his coffee, chiming in, “Yeah, definitely a bad camera angle.” I kept my eyes on the TV screen, but Ethan and Rachel were clearly squirming. “Chloe, I’m going to use the restroom,” Rachel said. A few minutes later, Ethan’s phone vibrated. Though he quickly flipped the screen over, I caught the name on the lock screen: “Rachel.” “Chloe, I need to take this work call.” I stared at his back as he walked toward the hallway bathroom, and then I silently got up to follow him. Hiding around the corner, I watched Rachel open the bathroom door, reach out, and pull Ethan inside. When we remodeled the house, Ethan had insisted on using lightweight doors so he could hear me if I ever slipped or needed help. Because of that, the bathroom door had zero soundproofing. “Ethan, you touched her just now. I’m jealous. Did you guys do anything behind my back this morning?”

Rachel’s voice was dripping with jealousy. Ethan let out a soft laugh. The blurred shadow against the frosted glass leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Silly girl, you know you’re the only one I love, right?” “I gave you my everything last night. Where would I even find the energy? Besides, I promised you I wouldn’t touch her.” I covered my mouth, forcing myself not to make a sound. Ever since we got engaged, our intimacy had dwindled to almost nothing. We hadn’t slept together in over a month. He had always been a man with a high sex drive. But when he used the “I’m just too stressed with work” excuse, I had actually believed him. They flirted and made out inside for a while longer. By the time they came out, I was already back on the couch. Ethan had a faint smear of pink lipstick on his collar and the corner of his mouth. I pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. “Look at you. You’re a grown man, yet you still eat like a kid. What did you sneak into?” I let the double meaning hang in the air. Ethan panicked, grabbing his phone screen to use as a mirror, frantically wiping his mouth. “Oh, uh, I must have gotten some of your lipstick on me when I washed my hands.” I didn’t call him out. Rachel couldn’t stand being there any longer. She adjusted her smudged lipstick and said: “Chloe, I have some errands to run. I should go.” She practically fled the house. Behind Ethan’s back, a slow, cold smile crept onto my face. I turned off the television, picked up my phone, and permanently deleted the engagement video. Ethan noticed. “Chloe, why did you delete our engagement video? I thought that was your favorite.” I looked him straight in the eyes, my smile not reaching my eyes. “I don’t like it anymore. Besides, the wedding video in a few weeks will be much more exciting. That’s the one worth keeping.” My words were smooth and flawless. The brief suspicion in Ethan’s mind quickly dissolved. Since it was his day off, he spent the afternoon begging me to go out with him. “Chloe, I’ve been so busy with work lately. I know I’ve neglected you. There’s a new movie playing today, and I already bought the tickets. Let’s go.” The rejection at the tip of my tongue was swallowed back down. Ethan hated shopping and movies. I wanted to see what kind of game he was playing today. Was this guilt after cheating, or did he have another motive? I bypassed the rows of white dresses in my closet and threw on a casual, oversized sweater and jeans. When I walked out to the hallway balcony, I saw Ethan looking down at his phone, a massive grin on his face as he texted someone. The moment I stepped downstairs, he quickly put his phone away. “Chloe, why aren’t you wearing a dress? I always love seeing you in white sundresses.” Without looking up, I pulled out a dusty pair of sneakers from the closet. “I suddenly don’t like them anymore.” “Ethan, don’t you think it’s weird? People can change overnight. The things we used to love can suddenly mean absolutely nothing to us.” Ethan’s body stiffened for a fraction of a second before he forced a smile. On the drive to the mall, he kept glancing over at me. Unable to stand his fake face, I simply closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. Once we arrived at the mall, he held my hand tightly, as if he was terrified I would run away. “Ethan, you’ve been acting so strange lately. Did you do something wrong? Is this your way of making it up to me?” I looked at him with a smile. His grip on my hand tightened, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. “I’m just kidding. Look how nervous you are. Don’t tell me you actually did something?” He swallowed hard. Before he could answer, a familiar voice called out from behind us. “Chloe!”

I turned around. It was Rachel, wearing a sweet smile as she walked toward us. More accurately, her eyes were locked onto Ethan. I couldn’t help but shake my head inwardly. How had I been so blind to such obvious looks before? “Chloe, what a coincidence! Are you guys shopping too? Let’s walk together.” Rachel grabbed my arm, and almost instantly, she and Ethan started their usual bickering routine. “Let go of her. I want to walk with Chloe.” “Why should I? Chloe is my best friend. If anyone should let go, it’s you.” I glanced at Ethan. He was really committed to this act, wasn’t he? In the end, I had no choice but to walk in the middle, with Ethan on my right and Rachel on my left. When we reached the restaurant, Ethan pulled out his VIP card. The hostess bowed slightly. “Mr. Vance, correct? Your table for three is ready. Right this way.” Hearing that, everything clicked. This was never a romantic date night for the two of us. It was just a cover so he could openly go on a date with Rachel with me as his shield. Ethan’s face flushed red and white. “You must have made a mistake. I booked a table for two.” I waved my hand, too exhausted to play along with his embarrassment. “It’s fine. Rachel is here anyway, so we have exactly three people. It worked out perfectly.” Ethan had pre-ordered the food. As the dishes were served, I realized almost all of them were tailored to Rachel’s taste. “No peanuts in this one, please. Can you swap it for another dish?” Ethan pointed at one of the plates and told the waiter. I kept my mouth shut, quietly setting down my fork. Only after speaking did Ethan realize how natural his tone had been. Seeing that my expression was neutral, he quickly tried to explain: “I remembered you’re allergic to peanuts, so I wanted to make sure the kitchen got it right.” I gave a soft hum. Out of the three of us, Rachel was the only one with a severe peanut allergy. After dinner, Ethan went to get the movie tickets. Coincidentally, Rachel pulled out her phone and showed me her ticket—which was for the same movie, in the seat right next to ours. “Chloe, we are seriously soulmates!” I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, not even blinking. “You and Ethan are the soulmates. He’s the one who bought the tickets.” Rachel’s smile faltered. “Ugh, I would never want to be soulmates with that annoying jerk.” During the entire movie, my mind was miles away. Meanwhile, Ethan and Rachel were whispering and giggling, discussing the plot with great enthusiasm. When the movie ended and we walked out of the dark theater, the dim lighting made it hard to see. I stumbled slightly. But in the light from a passing screen, I saw Ethan holding Rachel’s hand tightly to guide her. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “It’s still early, Chloe. Let’s go look at wedding bands. The wedding is this weekend. I can’t believe it’s finally happening!” The excitement on Ethan’s face felt incredibly surreal. Inside the jewelry store, the sales associate brought out the latest seasonal collection for us to choose from. I had zero interest. I tried on a few pieces half-heartedly, not liking any of them. “Oh, I think this one is gorgeous! Whoever marries me in the future has to get me this ring,” Rachel exclaimed, admiring a diamond ring on her finger and flaunting it in Ethan’s direction. In the end, we didn’t buy anything. But after we got into the car, Ethan claimed he forgot something and ran back into the store. When he returned, he was holding a small shopping bag. He pulled out a box and put a necklace around my neck. “I saw this necklace just now and thought it would look perfect on you. I was right.” He tossed his coat onto the back seat, giving Rachel a subtle, reassuring glance. I opened my phone camera under the pretense of taking a selfie, only to spot the corner of a ring box tucked deep inside his coat pocket. Fast forward to the day before the wedding. According to tradition, the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other. I packed all my belongings, left the necklace and my keys on the kitchen counter, and walked out without looking back. The next morning, Ethan received a FaceTime call from the wedding planner. “Mr. Vance, I just wanted to do a final check with you. The bride’s name is Rachel, correct?”

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I woke up, back on the morning of our wedding anniversary. In my past life, I had booked a restaurant a week in advance. I even spent hours in the kitchen making his favorite Beef Bourguignon from scratch. At 3:00 PM, I sent him a message: “7:00 PM tonight. Our usual spot. I’ll be waiting.” He didn’t reply. It wasn’t until 5:00 PM that he sent a voice note. “Clara, baby, I’m so sorry. An important client just flew in. I’ll try my best to make it, but go ahead and eat without me. Don’t wait up.” And I, like a fool, replied, “It’s okay. Work comes first. I’ll wait for you until nine.” At 9:00 PM, I drove to our second home—the new apartment we bought. And there, through the bedroom door, I heard Chloe Miller’s giggles and Ethan Sterling’s deep, breathless voice. I heard the words that carved themselves into my bones: “She’s got nothing on you. You’re so much better in bed.” I couldn’t even remember how I rushed out of the building. I only remembered the screeching of tires on the asphalt. And the memory of the text message I saw on Ethan’s phone later. It read: “Babe, our usual spot tonight. Miss you.” The timestamp was 4:20 PM. Right after I told him, “See you at our usual spot at 7:00 PM,” he turned around and invited his “babe” to another “usual spot.” Chloe Miller was Ethan’s college junior. She used to chase him back in school, then moved abroad. Last year, she returned and immediately joined Ethan’s company as his personal assistant. During a company party, Ethan brought me along, and Chloe was there too. She smiled sweetly, calling me “Clara” with false intimacy, but the look in her eyes whenever she watched Ethan was dripping with undisguised lust. At the time, I brushed it off as innocent admiration. I didn’t think twice. But then, Ethan started bringing her up more and more. “Chloe is really capable. She took a lot off my plate.” “Chloe stayed up all night helping me prep this report. I should take her out for dinner to thank her.” And back then, I foolishly chimed in, “Oh, you definitely should. Make sure to thank her properly.” Looking back, it was all just a cheap affair hidden behind the excuse of work. I opened my contacts and called Harper Davis. She was my best friend and ran a highly successful digital media company focusing on women’s lifestyle and relationship content. “Hello? Clara? Why are you up so early? Did the sun rise in the west today?” Harper teased over the phone. “Doesn’t my favorite stay-at-home wife usually sleep in?” “Harper,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I need a favor.” Harper immediately picked up on my tone. “What’s wrong? Did Ethan screw up again?” “Worse than that.” I took a deep breath. “I want to do a livestream.” “But you hate being on camera! You wouldn’t even show up for my company’s annual gala last month,” Harper said, confused. “I’m livestreaming a cheating husband,” I said flatly. A few seconds of dead silence followed. Then, Harper’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Clara, what the hell did you just say? Say that again. Ethan… is cheating?” “Yes.” I walked to my vanity and sat down. “And today is our wedding anniversary. He booked a date with Chloe at their little love nest tonight.” “Holy shit!” Harper cursed. “Chloe? That thirsty college junior of his?” “That absolute dog! Where are you? I’m coming over right now!” “Don’t come over,” I interrupted. “I need you to set up a livestream for me. “The equipment needs to be discreet, the video quality has to be crystal clear, and the audio needs to be perfect. Multiple angles, if possible. “I also need a reliable tech team to manage the stream in real-time. Make sure it doesn’t get shut down. “And most importantly, I need clout. “I want this stream to hit number one on trending.” A cold smile crept onto my lips. “The title will be… ‘Anniversary Surprise: Let’s see what my husband got me today.’” “Clara…” Harper’s voice cracked slightly. “Are you sure about this? Blowing this up in public won’t do you any favors. “We can find another way. Collect evidence, hire a lawyer, clean him out in the divorce…” “Clean him out?” I laughed. “Harper, I don’t just want his money. “I want him ruined. I want both of them to never be able to hold their heads up in public again. “I can make my own money. But this rage? I have to let it out. “Fine. My tech team has the gear. We can handle it.” “Wait for me. I’ll bring the team and the gear to your place in two hours.” “No,” I refused. “Don’t come to my house. Let’s meet somewhere else.” “Alright. 9:00 AM at the coffee shop downstairs from my office.” “Deal.” I hung up. The plan was in motion. Ethan, you like playing time manager? Let’s play.

Inside the private room of the coffee shop, Harper was already waiting with a man and a woman. “Clara!” Harper stood up the moment she saw me, pulling me into a seat. “This is Justin Carter, our head of tech. He’s a genius with livestreams. “And this is Mia Taylor, our live producer. She’s incredibly quick on her feet.” She turned to them. “This is my best friend, Clara Vance.” Harper looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. “Clara, have you really thought this through? “The gossip, the pointing fingers… it’s going to follow you for a long time.” I met her gaze dead-on. “Harper, I passed the point of no return a long time ago. “I’m not the one who should feel embarrassed. The cheaters are. As for the gossip…” I let out a cold laugh. “As long as I live a better, more glamorous life than them, words can’t hurt me.” Harper didn’t say anything else. She just squeezed my hand tightly. I looked at the laptop screen. Several major relationship gossip accounts with millions of followers on Twitter had already started posting teasers: “Tonight at 8:00 PM, tune in to @NeverForget for a very special ‘Anniversary Surprise.’ You don’t want to miss this!” “A romantic proposal or a total train wreck? Stay tuned!” “Marriage is a gamble. Do you dare to see the cards? Tonight’s livestream exposes the truth behind the perfect husband.” “She thought she married for love, but on their anniversary, she uncovered a shocking secret…” The hype was instant. The comment sections were already flooded with speculation. [An anniversary livestream? Sounds juicy!] [Is this scripted?] [Setting my alarm. I’m ready for the drama.] [If this is just some cheesy couple goals video at the end, I’m unfollowing!] The storm was brewing. Looking at the metrics, Harper said, “The engagement is crazy. At this rate, the live viewer count will be massive when we go live. “Clara, what’s your next move?” “I need to get him to confirm tonight’s date on tape,” I said. “And I need to catch him and Chloe on camera together. “His phone definitely has more evidence, but I can’t get to it. “Tonight, I’m going to make him expose himself.” Harper frowned. “Are you going to tail him? Driving your own car is too risky. A taxi isn’t reliable either.” I had already planned for this. “Ethan’s car has a GPS tracker. I installed it for safety reasons a while ago, and he probably forgot it even exists. “I can see his real-time location. “Plus, I rented an unremarkable sedan with standard plates. “I’ll park near his office ahead of time.” With everything set, we left the coffee shop. I picked up the rental car, sat in the driver’s seat, and buckled up. The car rolled toward Ethan’s office building. I found a spot with a clear view of the parking garage exit and waited. I opened Snapchat and sent Ethan a message. “Happy anniversary, babe! I booked a table for us at 7:00 PM. Our usual spot.” The message was sent. Silence. I switched to the livestream dashboard. The pre-live hype was still climbing. The hashtag had already cracked the top ten local trending topics. Some skeptical comments started appearing, calling it clout-chasing or a PR stunt. Harper used her burner accounts to steer the conversation: “Scripted or not, we’ll find out tonight. If it’s real, I hope she stays strong.” “Waiting for the receipts. Too many trash men out there lately.” “If this is real, he deserves to be canceled!” At 1:00 PM, Ethan finally replied. Just two words: “Busy now.” I took a screenshot and saved it. At 3:00 PM, he sent another message. “Got a dinner meeting with a client tonight. Can’t make it. Go ahead and eat. Don’t wait up.” I replied, keeping my tone intentionally sad but understanding: “Oh… okay. Work is important. Come home early when you’re done. I’ll wait for you.” He replied with a thumbs-up emoji. It wasn’t until 4:30 PM that the red dot on my tracking app finally started moving. I started the engine and followed him from a safe distance. Eventually, his car pulled into a luxury gated community called The Lumina. The security was incredibly tight. My rental car couldn’t get past the gates. I parked outside, in a spot where I had a clear view of the main entrance. I picked up my phone and sent a voice note to Harper, my voice steady. “He’s inside. I can’t get past the gate, so I’m waiting outside. You can start the countdown for the stream.” Harper replied almost instantly: “Got it. Have you checked the gear? How are you holding up?” “Gear is good. I’m fine.” I watched the security guards standing at attention. “This place has high security. I bet he plans on spending the night here. “I need to find a way in, or wait for him to come out.” “Safety first! Don’t force your way in!” Harper warned. “I know.” By 6:30 PM, the tracker showed that Ethan’s location hadn’t moved. I opened the livestream app. Justin had the stream key ready, and Harper messaged me: “The hype is at its peak. Thousands are waiting. We can go live anytime. When do you want to start?” “A little longer,” I replied. “Let’s wait until he comes out, or until I find a way in. I want absolute proof.”

By 7:30 PM, the sky was completely dark. The heavy iron gates of the community opened, and that familiar black Mercedes rolled out. Sitting in the passenger seat was Chloe Miller. I immediately started my engine and followed them. At the same time, I opened the app and hit “Go Live.” The camera pointed at me, and through the windshield, it captured the car ahead. I forced a sad, resolute smile for the camera. “Hi everyone, I’m Clara. Today is my third wedding anniversary. “Right now, I’m on my way to give my husband an ‘anniversary surprise.’ “I hope you can all bear witness with me.” The viewer count began to skyrocket. Comments started flooding the screen like a tidal wave. I looked at the rapidly scrolling text, keeping my voice in a state of controlled trembling. “A lot of you are asking where I’m going. “Do you see the car in front of me? “That is my husband’s car. “The girl in the passenger seat is his assistant, Chloe Miller. “Twenty minutes ago, they walked out of The Lumina together. “Yes, that luxury condo complex where units start at three million dollars.” The chat went wild: [Holy shit! Starting off with a bang?!] [The Lumina? Isn’t that mistress central?] [So on their anniversary, the husband takes his side piece out of a luxury condo? Real life is wilder than fiction!] [Her voice is shaking. I feel so bad for her…] [Wait, is this legal? Is she tracking him?] The moderators Harper set up immediately pinned a comment: [This stream has been legally cleared. The stream is strictly for securing evidence of marital misconduct to protect the spouse’s legal rights.] [Please stay respectful and respect privacy.] I continued, “This morning, I texted my husband. “I reminded him it was our anniversary and booked his favorite restaurant. “This afternoon, he told me he had a client meeting and couldn’t make it. “And now, it seems Miss Miller is his client.” The Mercedes finally parked in front of a high-end French bistro. It was a trendy, overhyped Michelin-star restaurant that required reservations a month in advance. When I had asked to go there last month, Ethan had told me it was “too much hassle and not worth it.” The car doors opened. Ethan walked around to the passenger side, gallantly opening the door for Chloe. Chloe stepped out, laughing, and naturally wrapped her arm around his. I parked the car, grabbed my purse containing the hidden camera, and stepped out. As I walked, the camera captured the clear view of the two of them walking arm-in-arm into the restaurant. The chat was in absolute chaos: [Busted! Look at that! Colleagues? My ass!] [Ditching his wife on their anniversary to take his mistress to a fancy dinner? Trash bag behavior!] [That girl looks familiar… is she that influencer?] [Stay strong, girl! We got your back!] [Go in there and rip them apart!]

I didn’t follow them in immediately. I spoke softly into the microphone. “They’re inside. I wanted to come to this restaurant with him, but he told me he hated it. “I guess he didn’t hate the restaurant. He just hated the person he’d be eating with.” My voice carried a perfect touch of heartbreak, but there were no tears on my face. “Now, I’m going in. I want to ask him myself if Miss Miller is indeed his most important ‘client’ tonight.” I walked into the restaurant. The host greeted me. I gave him Ethan’s name. “My husband booked a table. Ethan Sterling.” The host checked the system, his expression turning slightly awkward. “Mr. Sterling booked a table for two. By the window. May I ask who you…” “I’m his wife,” I said with a sweet smile. “I’m here to surprise him.” The host hesitated for a second but ultimately led me over. Ethan was the first to see me. The smile on his face froze instantly. A flash of panic crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly masked it, replacing it with a smug, mocking look. The chat: [Look at his face! He looks like he saw a ghost!] [The mistress is actually smirking? The audacity!] [Stay calm, Clara! Destroy them!] Ethan stood up, his face darkening. “Clara? What are you doing here?” “What am I doing here?” I repeated his words, my voice terrifyingly calm. “On our wedding anniversary, I couldn’t find my husband. My tracker showed him at The Lumina, and then I saw his car pull up here. “Ethan, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” The surrounding diners began to whisper, turning their heads to watch. Ethan lowered his voice, his tone laced with anger. “Are you tracking me? Have you lost your mind? We are going home to talk about this!” “Go home?” I laughed. “Which home? Our apartment, or your little love nest at The Lumina?” Chloe stood up then, putting on her best innocent, victimized act. “Clara, you’ve got this all wrong. “Ethan and I were just discussing a project. The launch went really well today, so Ethan offered to buy me dinner to celebrate. “We…” “Does discussing projects require wrapping your arm around his?” I cut her off, my eyes locking onto her hand, which was still lightly touching Ethan’s sleeve. Chloe’s face flushed red, then turned pale. Ethan yanked his arm away from Chloe’s touch and tried to grab my wrist. “Clara, stop making a scene! This is embarrassing! “Chloe is just my assistant. We were genuinely talking about work! Stop being so dramatic!” “Dramatic?” I pulled up the screen of my phone, displaying the evidence right in front of him. “Ethan! Today is our third wedding anniversary! “I booked a restaurant and waited for you, and you told me you were too busy! “I worried about you working too hard, while you were busy taking another woman out of your private condo for a romantic dinner! “Is this your anniversary gift to me?”

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