I stood in the auditorium, watching my daughter, Ivy, about to step onto the stage to receive an award for the robotics competition. Suddenly, a man in a sharp suit rose, his voice booming. “I recall your school has a policy: a five-million-dollar donation adds ten points to a student’s score in this year’s competition. This card holds five million dollars. The first prize should go to my son!” Everyone present was stunned. The teacher, after a moment of hesitation, nodded in acknowledgment. Ivy, looking bewildered on stage, exclaimed, “But I was the real first place winner!” The man’s son shot Ivy a disdainful glance, sneering, “Ivy Zheng, what’s the point of trying so hard? My mom’s rich. The chance to study at a top-tier lab is only for me.” Ivy’s eyes welled up. I walked over, taking her hand, a faint smile playing on my lips as I looked at the smug father and son. “You said the card holds five million dollars,” I began. “Is that true? Perhaps we should verify it on the spot.” The man arrogantly nodded. “Of course, it’s true. My wife has plenty of money. Swipe it now!” My smile deepened. The card in his hand was clearly the supplementary card I’d given my wife—her allowance! … Patrick Chen gave me a dismissive glance and haughtily handed the card to the school teacher. Immediately, someone gasped, exclaiming, “This… this is an Apex VIP Black Card! Only individuals with verified assets exceeding a hundred billion would have one!” “Good heavens! Liam Chen’s family is a top-tier dynasty!” Patrick was clearly relishing the adulation, his eyes conveying undisguised arrogance. He then shot Ivy a look that was a mix of disdain and pity. “Little girl, blame it on your folks not having five million. You commoners can try as hard as you want, but you’re just stepping stones for us.” Ivy’s small face flushed crimson. She shouted indignantly, “That’s not fair! I won first place!” She had loved artificial intelligence since she was a child. She’d prepared for this competition for three whole years, and the advanced study opportunity was her dream. The murmurs from the parents in the audience rose and fell. Someone couldn’t help but sigh. “That’s really cruel to the kid.” “But the elite are the elite, especially in a private international school like ours. Wealth is privilege. There’s no fairness in the face of privilege; this is a necessary lesson for her growth.” Even the teacher shook his head at Ivy. “Rules are rules.” Liam, seeing this, laughed even more wildly. “See? I told you, Ivy Zheng, you can’t beat me! What good is your ability?! Your efforts are worthless in front of me!” “Dad, can I go accept the award now?” Patrick grinned triumphantly, glancing at me before telling his son, “Of course.” Ivy’s whole face crumpled, her eyes slightly red, stubbornly repeating under her breath, “I won first place. I won first place!” I felt both heartache and amusement. I leaned in and whispered to her. Her eyes widened. “Dad, is that really true?” I nodded to her. “Watch this.” Just as Liam was striding confidently towards the podium, the teacher suddenly rushed over. “Mr. Chen, this card is locked and completely unusable!” Patrick frowned, raising his voice. “How could that be?! You country bumpkins just don’t know how to use it!” The teacher, helpless, handed the card reader to him. With a “ding,” a robotic female voice announced: “Your card is unusable!” “How is this possible?” Patrick gasped in surprise, unconsciously taking half a step back. Other parents in the audience couldn’t help but snicker. “Mr. Chen, did you just pick up that card?” “If you don’t have five million, why put on such a show? Aren’t you embarrassed?” Patrick’s face turned red with frustration. He gritted his teeth, swiping the card on the machine again and again. “Your card is unusable!” “Your card is unusable!” The laughter and chatter in the crowd grew louder. Liam, too, started getting anxious. “Dad, what’s going on? I need to get my award!” Watching Patrick’s slightly disheveled look, I stepped forward, smiling. “Since Mr. Chen can’t produce the five million, then first place still belongs to my daughter.” Ivy’s face had already cleared. She winked at me, about to walk towards the podium. “Hold on. There’s an issue with this card, but that doesn’t mean I can’t produce the five million. This award today can only go to my son.” Patrick stared at me with a dark expression. After speaking, he immediately made a call, and soon, my wife Eleanor Shen’s voice came through. Patrick hung up, his face once again beaming with confidence. “Don’t worry, son. No one can snatch this award today. It’s yours and yours alone!” He then shot me a challenging look. I let out a cold laugh. Just moments ago, Patrick and Eleanor had put on a public display of affection over the phone, their intimate tones making everyone blush. Soon, my phone rang. Eleanor’s voice, haughty and imperious, immediately came through: “Ethan Zheng, what’s going on with that card you gave me? Contact the bank to unlock it immediately, and increase the limit to fifty million!” I remained unusually calm. “What do you need that much money for?” “For business dealings and entertaining, of course. Don’t ask so many questions, just get it done!” I subtly lowered my eyes, concealing the cold fury swirling within them. Anyone familiar with me, who had been behind the scenes pulling strings for the group for over a decade, knew this was a signal that someone was heading for utter destruction. How absurd. A woman who owed her very existence to the Zheng family dared to keep a lover under my nose and order me around. It seemed I had been too lenient, making her forget who the true master of this household was! Seeing my lack of response, Eleanor sent a few frustrated voice messages, then fell silent. Conversely, Patrick directly raised his phone, displaying his bank balance to everyone: a full five million! A polite smile appeared on his face, but his eyes were filled with triumphant smugness. “Teacher, feeling reassured now? I told you, a family like ours wouldn’t be short five million. Even fifty million is chump change. Unlike families who earn dead-end wages, who haggle over even a hundred thousand.” He first gave me a pointed look, then, feigning kindness, spoke to Ivy: “Little girl, next life, remember to pick a good family to be born into. Don’t let people easily snatch away the fruits of your hard work again.” Ivy smiled sweetly at Patrick. “Mr. Chen, no one can take what’s mine!” I stepped forward, my smile unwavering, and said unhurriedly, “Exactly, no one can take what belongs to my daughter!” “Five million, that’s all.” A kind teacher stepped forward and tugged at my sleeve. “Ivy’s father, five million is no small sum. For the elite, it’s just pocket change for a designer bag, but for ordinary families, it’s an astronomical amount. This advanced study opportunity is rare, but don’t sacrifice your and your wife’s future for it.” Other well-meaning parents also started advising me not to act impulsively. Then there were the sycophants, chiming in with sarcastic remarks: “How much do you earn in a year? Trying to throw money around like the elite, aren’t you afraid of losing your house?” “Some people just want to show off, without considering their own weight class!” It was also my fault for always teaching Ivy to be low-key. In everyone’s eyes, we were just an ordinary working family, and Ivy’s good grades were the only reason she got into this private international school. I scanned the sycophants, and in an instant, the names of their affiliated companies flashed through my mind. I already had a plan. Then, I politely smiled at the teacher. “I’ll do the same as Mr. Chen and transfer the money to the school account.” “Ding!” “Five million credited!” The robotic female voice echoed from the teacher’s phone. A hush fell over the surroundings, then someone shouted, “Holy crap! Ivy Zheng’s dad actually forked out five million!” Patrick’s face darkened. He gritted his teeth, furiously tapping on his phone, then a robotic female voice announced: “Ding!” “Ten million credited!” Immediately, the crowd erupted. Parents gawked. “Ten million?! Are they crazy?!” “You don’t get it, this is what top-tier wealth looks like! Mr. Chen truly has the power, you just can’t deny it!” Three large donations arrived consecutively, and even the teacher couldn’t help but wipe sweat from his forehead. Liam couldn’t help but gloat, “Go, Dad!” Patrick, basking in the surrounding praise, patted his son’s head. “Son, don’t worry. Your mom said, whatever you want, she’ll support you, no matter the cost. What’s ten million, anyway?!” Yes, what’s ten million? A woman, cheating on me, using my money to bolster her lover’s image, bullying my daughter – she truly had a death wish! I was rather curious to see how far Eleanor would go for this father and son, and just how much money she had embezzled behind my back. Under Patrick’s arrogant gaze, I calmly spoke. “Twenty million!” Everyone’s eyes widened, filled with disbelief. “Is Ivy Zheng’s dad insane? Does he even have twenty million?!” Patrick gnashed his teeth. “Just running your mouth won’t do any good…” He hadn’t even finished his sentence when the robotic female voice, “Ding!” “Twenty million credited!” echoed in everyone’s ears. My smile deepened. “Of course, I don’t mind contributing more to education. Do you want to continue raising your donation? I’m in this until the end!” “Good heavens, Ivy Zheng’s family is not so simple after all! I never would have guessed!” The teacher again wiped sweat from his forehead, an uncontrollable ecstasy on his face as he looked at Patrick and asked, “Mr. Chen, are you going to raise the price again?” Patrick’s cold gaze gradually darkened. He then pulled out his phone and called Eleanor again. A moment later, his eyes and brows regained their triumphant look. He even deliberately unfolded his tri-fold phone, subtly revealing the wallpaper. Someone with sharp eyes immediately noticed. “The woman on the screen is Eleanor Shen, the General Manager of Oceanfront Group! Oh my God, she’s Liam Chen’s mom!” “Look, the photo on the screen is of their family of three. It’s hard to imagine that the aloof goddess, known as a highly educated elite dominating the business world, could show such a sweet smile.” “Then Ivy Zheng’s first place is completely out the window. No matter how rich her dad is, he can’t surpass Oceanfront Group in Ocean City!” Even more well-meaning parents earnestly pulled me aside. “Ivy’s father, don’t push it anymore. Everyone in Ocean City knows how powerful Oceanfront Group is. If you offend them, you won’t even be able to do business, and you’ll lose everything!” Patrick approached me, chin lifted, his eyes full of contempt and scorn. “I originally wanted to keep a low profile, but some people just can’t take a hint. Now you know how powerful we are, don’t you? Even if you have a few stinking bucks, in the eyes of an elite family like ours, it’s not even worth a glance!” I raised an eyebrow, deliberately asking, “Are you saying your wife is Eleanor Shen, the General Manager of Oceanfront Group?” “Dad, that’s clearly…” Ivy almost blurted it out. I quickly pressed her hand, then winked at her. She immediately understood and nodded. Patrick and his son, engrossed in the continuous flattery from the crowd, naturally didn’t notice my daughter and my actions. He haughtily nodded at me. “Scared now, are you?” Then, he smirked maliciously. “You’ve offended me today. But I’m a magnanimous man. If you and your daughter, Ivy Zheng, bow three times to me and my son in front of everyone, I’ll tell my wife not to pursue your transgressions.” “Otherwise, my wife will make your family bankrupt!” “Little girl, you won’t just be out of the robotics competition; you won’t even be able to afford school anymore!” Ivy was furious. “I’ve never seen such a shameless person!” She spat directly onto Patrick’s face. Liam, seeing this, angrily charged at Ivy, intent on hitting her. “I’ll kill you, you little brat! How dare you spit on my dad!” I instantly turned cold. With a swift movement, I pushed him to the ground. A shriek. “Dad! My knee’s busted, it hurts so bad!” Patrick glared at me fiercely. Seeing Liam’s bloody and bruised knee, his eyes were terrifying as he delivered a harsh threat. “This isn’t going to end well today. My wife will be here any minute. Oceanfront Group’s legal team isn’t to be trifled with. You and your daughter can spend the rest of your lives in prison!” I raised an eyebrow. Well, that saved me the trouble of figuring out how to get Eleanor here. The group’s executive assistant and top legal experts were already on their way with divorce papers and Eleanor Shen’s termination letter. Today was the end for this scumbag man and unfaithful woman! Upon hearing that Eleanor was arriving, the sycophants immediately swarmed Patrick and Liam, showering them with concern, eager to curry favor. They continued to mock me, their words growing increasingly vile and morally bankrupt: “Indeed, commoners never know their place. Ms. Shen’s wrath isn’t something little people like you can bear! Get ready to lose everything in compensation!” “Ivy Zheng, you won’t need to go to school anymore. Go pick up trash with your dad!” “Picking up trash won’t be enough. The old one will find a sugar mama, and the young one will learn from him and go after rich men too! That’s how you make quick money!” Just then, a sleek sedan sped up. Someone shouted, “It’s Oceanfront Group’s executive car!” “Ms. Shen truly is a virtuous wife, keeping her husband and son so close to her heart, arriving so quickly! The Zheng father and daughter are completely finished now!” The sycophants unleashed their malice on Ivy and me without restraint, their eyes as if they wanted to devour us alive. Patrick’s face twisted into a grotesque smile, filled with the joy and arrogance of impending revenge. “You pathetic loser, my wife is here. Your and your daughter’s doom has arrived!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “428153”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mind kept replaying the nightmare of my past life. My mother-in-law had been on a public bus, heading to the market for groceries, when a toxic gas leak suddenly erupted. The police, frantic, reached out to my wife, Summer Meng, at her lab, desperately hoping her purification materials could save the day. But Summer had already bought up every last bit of the city’s purification agents. She’d used them to create a romantic fireworks display for her high school sweetheart, Zayeed. I’d rushed, completely reckless, to reclaim the materials. I managed to save my mother-in-law, but Zayeed’s grand fireworks show was ruined. Heartbroken, Zayeed accidentally triggered a chemical incident, and was incinerated in the ensuing explosion. Summer said she didn’t blame me, but on the day my mother-in-law was discharged, she locked me in the lab and detonated a gas bomb. “The fireworks Zayeed never got to see? You’ll be their grand finale!” she’d shrieked, laughing maniacally, as I was blown to smithereens. This time around, when the police called, I refused their request to contact Summer. Zayeed finally got his meticulously planned fireworks spectacle. But Summer… she went completely mad. 1 The twenty-five desperate screams from the bus passengers echoed through the intercom in my right ear. “Gas concentration is climbing. Oxygen levels are dropping fast. They won’t last much longer!” Someone shoved me, and as my body tilted, a sudden clarity hit me. I had been reborn. Through the phone still pressed to my left ear, Summer’s impatient voice crackled. “Haven, are you done yet? Can’t you go five minutes without calling?” “I told you, it’s Zayeed’s birthday today. I’m celebrating with him. I don’t have time for you! Stop bothering me!” The line went dead. I clutched my furiously pounding heart, overhearing someone nearby. “The gas concentration is too high. Any contact with outside air will cause an explosion. No one inside will make it out alive.” “The only way is to purify the gas inside the vehicle first, then open the doors!” A police officer, brows furrowed, looked at me. “Isn’t your wife a renowned chemist? Contact her for help!” I offered a bitter smile, saying nothing. The moment the need for purification materials became clear, I had already called her. But she’d just erupted in fury. “Haven, I tolerate your jealousy towards Zayeed normally, but today, to stop me from celebrating his birthday, you’re cursing my mom!” “How could there be a gas leak on a bus? Do you just make up lies without thinking?” “What gas? And it specifically needs LumaGlow to purify it? You know it’s Zayeed’s favorite material! I’m using all of it for fireworks to make him the happiest man in the world!” How utterly ridiculous. My wife of three years, on our wedding anniversary, was saying she was celebrating another man’s birthday. And she wanted to use the very material that could save my mother-in-law to light a romantic fireworks show for him! Ten feet away, inside the bus, everyone was frantically pounding on the windows. My mother-in-law, dressed in her simple clothes, was struggling to wave at me. She probably couldn’t even imagine that the daughter she’d lovingly raised would abandon her now. By late afternoon, a gas expert arrived. “After our assessment, the gas component is from an insecticide made by a biotech company. Here’s the director’s number.” The call connected. “Mr. Harold, this is a toxic gas expert from the police department. There’s a gas leak on a bus on Willow Road, traced back to your company.” “Purifying the gas requires LumaGlow. Please cooperate and send all your company’s LumaGlow to Willow Road.” A few seconds of silence, then a sniffle, tinged with feigned hurt, came from the other end. “Summer, your husband is so desperate to stop you from setting off fireworks for me that he’s hired actors pretending to be cops.” “It seems he really minds you being nice to me… Forget it, I don’t need the fireworks. Just go back to him.” The gas expert’s words were caught in his throat. Summer’s infuriated voice cut through. “Haven, are you out of your mind?! You can’t stand to see Zayeed happy?” “I’m warning you, if you ruin this fireworks spectacle today, I’ll never forgive you!” I bit my lip, looking at my mother-in-law, whose face was already pale inside the bus. “Summer, your mom is on that bus.” “They won’t last much longer.” Summer swore under her breath. “Don’t you dare try to manipulate me with my mom! She worked hard her whole life, I brought her to the city to enjoy herself, not to be used by you for attention!” Zayeed continued to sniffle. “Summer, don’t be angry. Your husband didn’t mean it… I understand his jealousy.” “But honey, you really shouldn’t lie to Summer about her mother!” “Listen to Zayeed, how thoughtful he is! If you were half as considerate as Zayeed, I wouldn’t have had to bring my mom to live with us and take care of everything!” “Chris…” The sounds of passionate kissing came through the phone, and everyone present exchanged uncomfortable glances. Before the call ended, Summer’s venomous voice spat, “Haven, if you dare interrupt me setting off fireworks for Zayeed again, you’re out of our house!” 2 The gas expert, clutching the now-disconnected phone, looked at me with a complicated expression. Before he could speak, someone guarding the bus yelled, “Another leak!” We rushed over. Near the driver’s seat, there was a large box containing a dozen bottles labeled “Oxygen.” The expert was still cursing, “Who’s sick enough to fill oxygen tanks with deadly insecticide? This road is bumpy to begin with, and just a few jolts can cause leaks. One leak can trigger a chain reaction!” “There are twenty-five lives on that bus!” My mother-in-law saw me and desperately pounded on the glass. Faint sounds reached me. “Haven! I can’t breathe! Open the door!” My heart twisted. I tried to rush forward but was pulled back by a police officer. I could only shout, “Mom! There’s toxic gas in the bus! It’ll explode if we open the door, you’ll all be killed!” On the other side, a woman cradled her baby, sobbing uncontrollably. “Please, do something! My baby is only two months old!” The gas expert finished another call nearby, then came over, his face grim. “I’ve asked every colleague I could reach; none of them have LumaGlow.” “Not just our city, but the entire state and even neighboring states, all of the LumaGlow has been bought up by Summer Meng.” “She said it was to ignite the most romantic fireworks for the man she loves most!” “And since LumaGlow is her patent, no one else can refuse her!” The distraught families quickly asked, “Can’t we get it from somewhere else?” “The closest LumaGlow we can find would take four hours to transport, but they…” His hesitation ignited the crowd of families outside the bus. “Four hours! How could they possibly last four hours?!” The baby’s father was heartbroken. He had left for work this morning with everything fine, his wife and child sleeping at home. Now, on his way home, eager to see them, he received a call saying his wife and child were trapped on a bus, about to be poisoned to death! “Enough with the excuses! Summer Meng is your wife, isn’t she? Make her send the LumaGlow and save them!” I lowered my head, tears streaming. “I contacted her. She refused…” The expert clenched his fist in anger. “This Summer Meng even received an award for filial piety! To think her own mother is about to be poisoned to death, and she’s only thinking about celebrating her lover’s birthday and setting off romantic fireworks for him! What kind of damn fireworks are more important than twenty-five human lives?!” Someone asked, “Are there no other materials? Does it have to be LumaGlow?” “Yes, the gas on the bus contains components from Zayeed Harold’ biotech company, and LumaGlow was co-developed with Summer Meng’s lab. Their big marketing pitch was that one could be developed into a deadly insecticide, and the other could purify that specific toxin. So, it can only be LumaGlow.” A sudden commotion erupted on the bus. The young mother, clutching her now lifeless child, let out a heart-wrenching, hysterical scream. “Baby! Don’t scare Mommy! Mommy can’t live without you!” “If you die, what will Mommy do? Baby… baby…” We stood outside the bus, watching helplessly as the child’s mother’s arm fell, and she, too, stopped breathing alongside her beloved child. The young father completely lost it. He grabbed my throat, his eyes bloodshot. “I don’t care if your wife is with her lover or whatever! My wife and child are dead, and you’ll die for your wife!” I stood my ground, letting him choke me, the suffocating sensation making my vision swim. In my previous life, when I desperately forced the LumaGlow to be brought, most of the people inside the bus were already dead. Even if my mother-in-law survived, I became a shell of a man, living every day with overwhelming guilt for the others. This time, if my life could save everyone on the bus, I would willingly die right now. In my fading consciousness, I heard my mother-in-law’s voice. “Haven! Let go of my son-in-law! Haven, run!” I immediately snapped back to reality, breaking free with the help of the police, coughing violently. Through tear-blurred eyes, my mother-in-law desperately pounded on the glass, looking at me with urgency. The driver in the front tried to reach her but suddenly rolled his eyes and collapsed inside the bus. No, I have to save them. I grabbed the megaphone and shouted, “Mom! Everyone, sit down, regulate your breathing! Don’t get emotional!” “The more agitated you are, the more gas you inhale!” A police officer picked up his phone again. “I’m sending the closest officers to persuade her! Where is she now?” The moment he spoke, a deafening sound of fireworks echoed from the southeast. “That direction… that’s the villa she bought for Zayeed.” 3 Zayeed’s company was set up by Summer, and the villa was bought by Summer. The toxic gas components and LumaGlow were both developed by Summer, yet she gave him the patent for them. He never had to do anything; he just spent her money and lived a lavish lifestyle. I, her legitimate husband, had to use my salary to cover household expenses and take care of my mother-in-law. Fortunately, my mother-in-law was understanding and treated me wonderfully, like her own son. But today, she was trapped on that bus, and her own daughter, who could save her, only cared about another man! Amidst the explosions of fireworks, police officers, having connected by phone, rushed to the villa. The call hadn’t been hung up, and we could hear the fireworks growing clearer. An officer introduced himself, then said, “The passengers on the bus are still awaiting rescue. We urgently need the LumaGlow to purify the gas. Please hand over the materials immediately!” But then, a cry of “Oh!” erupted. “My brother-in-law is so idle, he even hired actors to come to the door?” The officer, eager to save lives, was about to pull out his ID when he was punched. “How much did Haven give you? I’ll offer ten times that! Just stop bothering me!” The distraught family members around me roared with anger. “Are you insane?! My son is still on that bus! Bring the materials now!” Summer heard the commotion and snatched the phone. “Who are you, his latest fling?! Haven, how dare you cheat on me?!” “Tell me! How long have you two been hooking up?! You even have a son together!” That family member was beyond enraged; if the police hadn’t held them back, they probably would have smashed the phone. I sighed, completely disheartened. “She’s a passenger’s relative from the bus. Her son is sitting right in front of your mother…” “Haven! You’re still making up stories! I’d die before I believed there’s toxic gas on a bus!” “The gas was in oxygen tanks, and the component is…” “Are you going to say the component is from Zayeed’s company? You’ve fabricated such an elaborate story just to ruin my romantic gesture for Zayeed! I truly regret marrying you, you’re so malicious!” Summer’s furious voice was interrupted by Zayeed. “It’s okay, Summer, your husband is just doing all this because he loves you. What’s wrong with a man who loses his mind for love?” His comforting words soothed Summer. “Zayeed, you’re always so understanding. I must have been out of my mind back then; I should have crashed your wedding.” “It’s not too late now, Summer…” The sound of passionate kissing came through the phone, then the line went dead. A few minutes later, the officers called back, their voices bitter and angry. “Summer Meng threw us out and had people barricade the villa complex. No one’s allowed in!” “She also told us to pass on a message: if we dare disturb their fireworks again, she’ll set all the LumaGlow on fire.” Dozens of furious eyes glared at me, as if they wanted to skin me alive. “Grandma, don’t fall asleep, please hold on!” a little boy cried out. “You’re all I have, Grandma. What will I do if you leave?! Grandma!” We grew desperate, forgetting our anger, and rushed forward in a frenzy. A man, wielding a fire extinguisher, tried to smash the glass, but a police officer grabbed him around the waist and dragged him back. “No! The gas concentration in the bus is at its peak; any misstep will cause an explosion!” I watched my mother-in-law struggling to breathe, yet she kept murmuring my name. “Haven…” I lost my mind, grabbed my phone, and started recording. “Summer Meng! Open your eyes and look! Your mother and everyone on this bus are about to die because of you!” I sent the video. An exclamation mark appeared, she had blocked me. The fireworks from the villa continued, each burst a different color and shape. Some even spelled out Zayeed’s initials, a blatant display of affection. Social media was ablaze with this romantic fireworks spectacle, its trending topic eclipsing our cries for help. It even drew countless people to the site, paralyzing traffic, and several reporters who wanted to cover the story were stuck on the roads. I watched the collapsing eyes in the bus and my mother-in-law’s fading pupils, before I, too, collapsed onto the ground, unable to bear it any longer. Suddenly, I remembered Summer’s business partner. I quickly dialed her for a video call. “Hey, Haven, why are you calling me?” I turned the camera towards my mother-in-law on the bus. Cassie gasped, instinctively shouting, “Auntie! What happened?!” “Cassie, you’re the only one who can save them now!” 4 Cassie listened to the gist of it, then immediately located the unused LumaGlow in the warehouse and sent me photos. “Haven, I’ll send it over to you right away!” Hope surged through us. Everyone cheered, continuously encouraging those inside the bus to hold on. “Mom, look, Cassie says she’ll bring the LumaGlow!” I showed my mother-in-law the chat messages and pictures, but she simply slumped in her seat and asked, “Isn’t LumaGlow my daughter’s research? Why isn’t she bringing it?” My mother-in-law’s voice was weak, and the glass further muffled it, yet it still tore at my heart. I couldn’t tell her the truth. I just wiped away my tears and said, “Mom, Summer will come too!” A video call came in. Cassie whispered, “Haven, I can’t leave. Can you send someone?” The police immediately said, “Dozens of our officers are already on their way. Just deliver it to the complex gate!” Cassie acknowledged, but then the camera suddenly shook, and Summer’s grim, enraged face appeared. “Well, well, Haven, so you’ve set your sights on my business partner now!” Cassie quickly said, “Summer, we need to save Auntie first. Other things can wait!” I quickly aimed the camera at my mother-in-law in the car. My mother-in-law’s eyes lit up when she saw her daughter. “Summer, save me…” “I bought your favorite beef. Tonight when I get home… I’ll braise beef short ribs for you…” A flicker of helplessness crossed Summer’s eyes. “Mom, I’ve tolerated you protecting him all this time, but now you’re even going along with his nonsense?” “What… Summer, I can’t… I’m so uncomfortable, I can’t breathe… save me…” “Ugh, I should have never brought you here. So much trouble.” Summer sighed, then kicked Cassie. “Are you blind? Can’t you see my mom’s just acting?” “Haven seems pretty close to you these days, doesn’t he? What, you’re falling for him?” Cassie was furious. “What are you talking about! Saving lives is what’s important!” “Saving lives, huh? I think what’s most important is for me to get a divorce so you two adulterers can be together, right?” Summer’s words grew increasingly nasty. I couldn’t help but growl, “Summer, you bastard!” “What, does it sting? Then you two get married and go comfort him properly in bed.” She said through gritted teeth. From the background, Zayeed called out. “Summer, hurry up, I’m so cold!” Summer’s face flushed as she yelled, “Coming!” Then, into the phone, she said, “Mom, you guys have fun. I’m busy celebrating Zayeed’s birthday tonight, so I won’t be home. We’ll have the braised short ribs tomorrow.” “Here, I’ll send you two thousand to spend as you please. Is that enough?” “Such a hassle. I shouldn’t have gotten into this messed-up marriage, and now I’ve even corrupted my mom…” The moment the video call ended, my mother-in-law’s tears began to fall. When I proposed, Summer had promised to live a good life with me, and my mother-in-law had vowed I wouldn’t be wronged. But after the wedding, I learned that Summer’s heart belonged to Zayeed, and she only married me because he had married someone else. Every day, she regretted not crashing his wedding. So, she and Zayeed rekindled their romance, buying him luxuries, even the villa I had only dreamed of. When I wanted grilled meat, she claimed she was busy, yet that evening she took Zayeed to a high-end restaurant. When I had a fever, she impatiently told me to drink more hot water, then rushed Zayeed to the hospital after he merely sneezed. Even this very fireworks show was something I had begged her for endlessly and never received. “Have you done the dishes? Washed the clothes? Did you get Mom’s foot bath ready? You haven’t done anything, yet you have time to watch fireworks?” “The materials in our lab are precious, and LumaGlow, in particular, is the fruit of my hard work. Do you think just anyone is worthy of seeing it?” On Zayeed’s social media, Summer, with her bare back to the camera, was nestled in his arms, kissing him passionately. Fireworks, dedicated to him, lit up the sky. But the adults and children on the bus, who had already stopped breathing, wouldn’t even see tomorrow’s sunrise. “Haven, it’s my fault for not raising my daughter well. I’ve harmed you, and so many other people…” My mother-in-law spoke her last words, then her body went limp, collapsing onto the seat, lifeless. “Mom! Mom, don’t go to sleep!” I frantically pounded on the window, but she would never open her eyes again to call my name, “Haven.” In that moment, I wanted to tear Summer and Zayeed limb from limb! Meanwhile, in the fireworks-lit villa, someone knocked on the bedroom door. Summer, annoyed by the interruption, refused to release Zayeed, who lay naked in her arms. “Get lost!” The person outside, panicked, shouted, “Ms. Meng! The bus gas leak incident is on the news!”

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I shelled out $25,000 for a house with a past. On my first night there, the kitBaker light flickered on by itself. Under its glow, an old woman sat at the dining table. She smiled at me. “Sweetie, why are you so thin?” she asked. Later, I learned she was the previous owner. And she had been dead for three years. 1. “Sis, three rooms, one living room, twenty-five thousand dollars. Interested?” The real estate agent, a young guy, chased me out as I was sitting on the steps outside, nibbling on a bagel. I’d been house-hunting for two weeks, and couldn’t afford anything. With twenty-eight thousand dollars in hand, I couldn’t even buy a bathroom in this city. “Twenty-five thousand? For three rooms and a living room?” “Yeah. It’s just… a bit special.” “Special how?” The agent rubbed his hands together, lowering his voice. “Someone… died in this house.” The house was on the sixth floor of an old apartment building, no elevator. I followed the agent up, panting by the time I reached the door. It was an old-fashioned security door, the lock a bit rusty. Pushing it open, the inside was surprisingly clean. Three rooms, one living room, south-facing, with excellent natural light. The living room was spacious, the kitBaker had a window, and the bathroom was split into wet and dry areas. This kind of setup would normally go for over a quarter million. “The previous owner was an old lady, Mrs. Bridgeforth, seventy-eight years old.” The agent stood at the doorway, hesitant to enter. “She passed away in the house. Her neighbors found her three days later.” “How did she die?” “Natural causes, no foul play. It’s just… she lived alone. No one was with her when she passed.” I walked around the living room. The floors were spotless. On the kitBaker counter, there was an enamel mug, emblazoned with “Serve the People.” “No one bought it before?” “A house flipper bought it, lived there for three days, broke his leg, then resold it at a loss.” The agent looked at me, his expression asking, “Do you still want it?” I thought for three seconds. “Can you go any lower?” On the day of the transfer, the notary public staff looked at me three times. They probably figured a twenty-four-year-old girl buying a “death house” was either foolish or desperately broke. They were right on both counts. On moving day, my entire belongings consisted of two suitcases and a cardboard box. The suitcases held clothes, the box held books and an old laptop. No furniture, no appliances. The living room was empty. I propped the suitcases against the wall and laid a yoga mat on the floor to serve as a bed. Lying down, I noticed a crack on the ceiling, winding like a crooked river. “Joanna, you’re really something.” I told myself. “Twenty-four years old, living in a haunted house, sleeping on the floor.” But at least it was my own place. Three rooms and a living room, with my name on the title. I closed my eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep. At two in the morning, I was woken by a noise. It came from the kitBaker. Clanking and rattling, like someone rummaging through things. My heart rate instantly rocketed to 150. Didn’t they say someone died here? Could there really be… No, I don’t believe in that. It must be a mouse. I fumbled for the slipper beside me and tiptoed towards the kitBaker. The kitBaker light was on. I definitely hadn’t turned it on. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the kitBaker door. An old woman sat at the small kitBaker table. Her hair was white, neatly combed, and she wore a floral cotton blouse. In front of her sat the “Serve the People” enamel mug. She was holding the cup, sipping tea. Seeing me enter, she looked up. “Sweetie, why are you so thin?” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. “There are pork ribs in the fridge. I’ll teach you how to stew them.” She said, reaching for the teacup. Her hand passed right through the cup. 2. I shrieked, and my slipper flew, hitting the wall with a thud. The old woman glanced at the slipper, then at me. “What’s all the screaming about in the middle of the night?” I turned and ran. I dashed into the bedroom, locked the door, and leaned against it, panting. My heart pounded as if it would explode. The old woman’s voice came from outside the door. “Sweetie, why are you running? I don’t bite.” “You… you’re a ghost!” “So what if I’m a ghost? Can’t a ghost talk to you?” I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. Okay. Calm down. I’m an adult. I bought a house where someone died. Now the previous owner of that house has appeared. This is perfectly logical. No, this is not logical at all. “Sweetie, open the door. I want to tell you something.” “No!” “I can get in even if you don’t open the door. I’m a ghost.” I froze for a moment. The door hadn’t opened, but the old woman was already standing in front of me. She’d passed right through the door. I screamed again. “Alright, alright, stop screaming. The neighbors will call the police.” The old woman sat down on the floor opposite me, cross-legged, looking more at ease than I did. “My name is Susan Bridgeforth. This house used to be mine. I lived here for forty years, and I died here too.” She said it calmly, as if discussing the weather. “Why… why are you still here?” “Can’t leave. I’m tied to this house.” “Tied? Who tied you?” “Who knows? Maybe the Grim Reaper forgot to collect me, or maybe I just don’t want to leave.” She looked around. “I cleaned this house for forty years. I can’t bear to leave it.” I stared at her, slowly calming down. She really didn’t look like a ghost from a horror movie. No disheveled hair, no bloody face, no crawling. Just an ordinary old lady, wearing a floral blouse, speaking with a slight accent. “You’re not going to harm me?” “Harm you? Why? You haven’t wronged me.” She looked me up and down. “Besides, you have a kind heart. That house flipper last time, the moment he walked in, he was already calculating how to raise the price. I made him take a tumble.” “That was you?!” “Served him right. My house isn’t for him to flip.” The next morning, I went to work with dark circles under my eyes. I hadn’t slept well all night, Mrs. Bridgeforth’s face swirling in my mind. Before leaving, she had written a line on the bathroom mirror. I saw it while brushing my teeth and almost swallowed my toothbrush. The mirror read: Take Maple Street, not Willow Avenue. I hesitated for a moment but decided to listen to her. I took a five-minute detour, walking down Maple Street. When I got to the office, I found out—Willow Avenue had a burst water pipe that morning, causing a two-hour traffic jam. Half the company was late. And I arrived ten minutes early. Just in time for the boss’s impromptu roll call. The boss scanned the room. Only I and two other people were there. “Joanna, good job, punctual.” I smiled, wondering to myself: Was that a coincidence? After work, I came home to find Mrs. Bridgeforth sitting in the living room watching TV. Yes, she could turn on the TV. Although her hands passed through solid objects, she could control electrical switches. “Grandma, how did you know Willow Avenue would be jammed today?” “I didn’t know. But that street’s pipes haven’t been replaced in thirty years. It was bound to burst.” “…You’ve lived here for forty years and you know the age of the pipes?” “I’m telling you, there’s nothing in this building I don’t know.” She changed the channel to a business news program. “Oh, there are pork ribs in the fridge. I’ll teach you how to stew them tomorrow.” “You’ll teach me?” “I’ll write the steps on the mirror; you just follow them.” I glanced towards the bathroom. “You can cook?” “I cooked for forty years when I was alive. I haven’t forgotten, even after I died. I just can’t do it myself anymore.” The next evening, following the recipe on the mirror, I stewed a pot of pork rib soup. Mrs. Bridgeforth directed from the side. “Not enough salt.” “Too high heat.” “When blanching, always put it in cold water. How many times have I told you?” I fumbled for over an hour. Sitting at the table with my bowl, I took a sip. It was so savory it almost made me cry. Not because it tasted good. It was because, in the two years I’d been in this city, it was the first time anyone had taught me how to cook. 3. The good times didn’t last long. The company started layoffs. “Last-in, first-out. Based on hire date.” The supervisor’s cold voice announced in the group chat. I was the last to be hired. I was definitely the first to be laid off. That evening, I collapsed on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. Mrs. Bridgeforth floated over, glancing at me. “What’s wrong? Why so glum?” “I’m getting laid off.” “They’re laying you off? Why?” “Because I was the last one in.” Mrs. Bridgeforth scoffed. “Then find another job. This crummy company isn’t worth staying at.” “Easy for you to say. Jobs aren’t that easy to find.” “Just you wait.” She floated away. In the middle of the night, I was woken by my phone vibrating. I picked it up. The screen had automatically lit up, opening a job hunting website. Three positions on the page were marked with asterisks. One was a copywriter for an internet company, salary $8,000 per month. One was a content manager for a new media company, salary $10,000 per month. One was a creative director assistant for a brand company, salary $7,000 per month. My current salary was $3,000. “Grandma, did you do this?” No one answered from the living room. But the TV turned on automatically, displaying a line of text: Apply for all three, don’t be picky. I applied. Three days later, all three companies sent interview invitations. I sat on my bed, staring at my phone, a little stunned. When it came to sending out resumes, getting one response out of ten was considered lucky. Three for three? The night before the interviews, I tried on clothes in front of the mirror. White blouse? Too plain. Black suit? Too serious. Gray knit? Too casual. Slowly, a line of text appeared on the mirror: Wear the blue one. The interviewer has an affinity for water. “Grandma, you know about elemental affinities?” Another line appeared on the mirror: I don’t. But blue makes you look radiant, and it suits you. I smiled. On interview day, I wore the blue blouse. The interviewer was a woman in her forties, wearing silver earrings, with a cup of herbal tea on her desk. She glanced at me and smiled. “Blue blouse, very fresh. I love blue.” The interview lasted forty minutes. She asked me about projects I’d worked on; I answered truthfully. She asked for my views on the industry; I shared my thoughts. She asked about my salary expectations; I said $8,000. She nodded. “Alright. Start next Monday.” Just like that? I walked out of the company building, standing in the sunshine, feeling it was all a bit surreal. Three days ago, I was worried about being laid off. Now my salary had tripled. Back home, Mrs. Bridgeforth was sitting in the living room, the TV on, playing a dating show. “How’d it go?” “I got it. Eight thousand.” “Only eight thousand?” “Grandma, I was only making three thousand before.” “Three thousand and you call that a salary?” She shook her head, a look of disdain on her face. “I’m telling you, you’re worth fourteen thousand.” I smiled and sat down, a warmth spreading through me. This ghost of an old lady, she was more protective than my own mother. First day at the new company, I arrived half an hour early. The receptionist processed my ID badge and led me to my workstation. I set down my bag, ready to turn on my computer. The chair at the cubicle next to me swiveled around. Someone was sitting there. Mark Baker. My ex-boyfriend. He saw me, froze for a second, then smiled. “Joanna? You’re here too?” My smile froze on my face. This luck, was it too much of a good thing? 4. Mark Baker. We dated for a year, broke up three months ago. Reason for breakup: He thought I was poor. His exact words were, “Our spending habits are different.” Translated into plain English: You can’t afford the restaurants I want to go to, can’t wear clothes I consider presentable, and don’t fit into my social circle. Now he sat in the cubicle next to me, smiling as if nothing had ever happened. “What a coincidence, I never expected to run into you here.” “Yeah, quite a coincidence.” I opened my laptop, expressionless. “Lunch together? Catch up?” “No, I have plans for lunch.” “Then dinner?” “Dinner too.” “You have plans every day?” “Yes.” He smiled, saying nothing more. But I knew he wouldn’t give up. Mark was the kind of person who got more persistent the more you rejected him. That evening, I got home and told Mrs. Bridgeforth about it. She was watching TV. After hearing me out, the remote control slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a clatter. “What did you say? Your ex-boyfriend?” “Yes, he’s sitting right next to me.” “Broke up with you because you were poor?” “Yes.” “Now that you’ve joined a good company, he’s trying to latch on again?” “Pretty much.” Mrs. Bridgeforth’s expression changed. It wasn’t anger; it was a cold, knowing smirk that said, “I’ve seen his type a million times.” “Don’t go near him.” “I know, I didn’t agree to anything.” “I’m not talking about dinner. I’m saying, don’t have any contact with a man like that.” She floated to the bathroom mirror and began to write. She filled the entire surface. I followed to read. The mirror read: I’ve seen many men like him. My ex-husband was the same way. He’s not coming back because you’re more valuable now. Not because you’re worthy. It’s because he hasn’t found anyone better. You’re just his backup option. I looked at the words, my nose stinging a little. “Grandma, you went through something like this too?” The words on the mirror stopped. Mrs. Bridgeforth was silent for a moment. “…We’ll talk about that later.” The next day, Mark came again. This time, he simply bought two coffees, placing one on my desk. “Americano, your favorite.” I used to drink Americanos because they were cheap, not because I loved them. But I didn’t say that. “Thanks, but no thanks.” “Don’t be such a stranger, we’re colleagues now.” He leaned beside my cubicle, lowering his voice. “Joanna, I’ve always wanted to tell you, breaking up was my mistake. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think we’re still a great fit.” I looked at him. His expression was very sincere. If it had been three months ago, I might have softened. But not now. “Mark, we’re not a good fit.” “Just think about it—” “No need to think.” His expression stiffened for a moment, but he quickly regained his smile. “Alright, then I’ll wait for you to come around.” He left. I picked up the coffee and tossed it into the trash. On the third day, Mark started waiting for me by the company entrance. When it was time to leave, he stood by the main door, holding a bouquet of flowers. “Joanna—” I was about to take a detour when my phone suddenly vibrated. A private message notification popped up from TikTok. Not my account—it was Mark’s. He had used my phone to scroll TikTok before, logged into his account, and had forgotten to log out. I had also forgotten to log out. The private message was from a girl, with a heart emoji: “Honey, where are we going this weekend?” I tapped it open and scrolled up. The screen was full of messages. “Whatever you say, I’ll listen to you~” “How about that hot spring resort we went to last time?” “Oh, yes, yes, I miss you” The date was last week. I stared at the screen for three seconds. I looked up, at Mark and the flowers in his hand. I smiled. “Mark, who did you go to the hot spring resort with last week?” His smile froze. “What?” I turned the phone screen towards him, letting him see. His face went paler by the second. “This… this is…” “Your chat history.” I pulled my phone back and walked past him. “The flowers are nice. Give them to your ‘honey’.” Ten steps away, I heard the sound of the bouquet hitting the ground behind me. So satisfying. Truly so satisfying. Back home, Mrs. Bridgeforth was in the living room, watching the news. “All sorted?” “All sorted.” “Don’t ever bother with people like him again.” “Got it.” I sat down, hesitating slightly. “Grandma, you said your ex-husband was like that… did you go through something similar?” Mrs. Bridgeforth watched the TV, not turning around. A long silence. “…Yes. I married an unreliable man when I was young, and later we divorced.” I paused. 5. I wanted to press for more details, but Mrs. Bridgeforth floated back to her room and closed the door. A ghost closing a door. I knocked for a long time, but she ignored me.

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That graduation trip disaster left me lost on a strange beach for a solid six hours. Passing a brightly lit bar, the voices spilling out felt like ice picks stabbing through my eardrums. “I deliberately ditched her,” it was Michael’s voice, my fiancé. He was complaining to Chloe, the senior beside him. “I never intended to bring her in the first place.” “Harper’s so clingy, it’s honestly annoying.” His casual tone was colder than the ocean waves. “If only she could be as mature and independent as you.” That sentence shattered the last remnants of my fantasy. I ran like a maniac along the beach, screaming his name over and over until my throat was too raw to make a sound. Without even the strength to storm in and confront him, I turned and silently walked back to the hotel, grabbed my passport, and headed straight for the airport. As boarding time approached, Michael’s call finally came through, his voice as light as if nothing had happened: “My phone just charged. You must be frantic, right? Send me your location, I’ll come get you now.” I hung up directly, my fingertips trembling as I texted him four words: Wedding canceled. 1 “Harper, what do you mean? You couldn’t keep up with me, ran off somewhere, and now you’re taking it out on me?” The message had only been sent for three seconds before Michael called. I could vaguely hear our companions on the other end trying to smooth things over. Chloe’s voice was clearly the closest. “You two are practically married, Michael. Be nice to Harper. You need to sweet-talk a girl.” Laughter erupted around her, but Michael’s voice grew colder. “Well, we only booked the venue, invitations haven’t even gone out. If Harper wants to cancel the wedding, she can go right ahead!” The call ended. Michael’s anger abruptly cut off. And my phone wallpaper still showed his sunny smile. I paused, then decided to change it immediately. But when I opened my photo album, Michael was everywhere. I loved capturing every little moment Michael and I shared. Him grimacing after a sip of Americano. Him begrudgingly eating the mushrooms I’d picked out for him. And the silly dance videos I’d dragged him into. I selected them one by one, deleting them. Until, finally, I just cleared the entire album. For some reason, my heart felt a huge chunk had been hollowed out too. A fellow traveler’s nudge made me realize my phone was ringing incessantly. It was Michael again. This time his tone had softened considerably. “Harper, I was out of line just now, I was too upset.” “Don’t be mad at me. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up right away.” Seeing I still wasn’t speaking, Michael sounded a little anxious. “We’re supposed to go snorkeling tomorrow, isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to do?” I opened my mouth, instinctively wanting to say something. Because Michael loved snorkeling, I, a complete non-swimmer, had specially hired a private instructor before this trip. I didn’t want my clumsiness to wear out Michael’s patience. So, I’d conquered my fear again and again, holding my breath underwater, and leaving lessons with bloodshot eyes from the chlorine. Now, I felt it was all for nothing. “I…” I wanted to say, Let’s break up. I’m not getting married. But my throat felt like it was scraped with gravel, hoarse and painful. The silence, lasting for several seconds, completely infuriated Michael. “Harper, you’re really something else.” “If I can’t find you at the hotel in an hour, we’re over!” Whenever Michael and I argued before, this tactic always worked. Because I loved him, seemingly more than he loved me. But this time, I wasn’t going to back down. At the very last minute for check-in, I walked towards the counter with my passport. The ground staff looked up at me, then handed my documents back. Only then did I realize that in my haste, I’d grabbed Michael’s passport by mistake. And tomorrow’s flight back home was fully booked; the earliest I could rebook was the day after. An hour and a half later, I returned to the hotel, exhausted. I’d planned to swap passports and find another place to stay. But I happened to run into Michael and Chloe in the hotel lobby. Michael was clearly drunk, leaning heavily on Chloe’s shoulder. “Harper, seriously, how could she just leave without a word, leaving me behind?” “Here, have some water.” Chloe held a glass of water to his lips; there was a noticeable lipstick mark on the rim. Spotting me, she guiltily pushed Michael towards me. “Oh, good, you’re back. Michael’s all yours.” I have allergies. The moment I got close, the perfume scent clinging to Michael triggered a series of sneezes. Without a second thought, I pushed him back towards Chloe. My voice was flat. “He’s your handiwork, Chloe. You can take care of him.” On the way back, I’d bought some throat lozenges; swallowing one helped a lot. I turned and went upstairs, ignoring Chloe’s darkening expression. There were six of us on this trip. Three were Michael’s roommates from college. He wouldn’t be without a place to sleep tonight. After washing up in my room, I found Michael’s phone on the bedside table, constantly buzzing with notifications. I found it annoying and was about to put it on silent. But my face ID, which I’d set up earlier, automatically unlocked it. Michael’s group chat immediately popped up. “Seriously, what does Michael even see in Harper? She’s nothing but clingy.” “Chloe brought him back when he was hammered. I swear those two are perfect for each other.” “It’s just that Chloe was almost engaged back then, so Michael only agreed to Harper.” My fingers froze, unable to press the power button. Because Chloe had a boyfriend, I’d never questioned Michael’s excessive concern for her. At most, I’d pretend to be mad for a couple of days and wait for Michael to come and coax me. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Since I’ve decided to break up, why do I even care about this stuff anymore? Seeing the latest message pop up in the chat, I let out a cold laugh. “You guys didn’t know? Chloe broke up with her boyfriend at the beginning of the month.” I paused, then suddenly understood why Michael had been in such a rush to organize this trip. Taking me snorkeling? Filming beautiful videos of me? Turns out, all the reasons he kept spouting were just excuses. I turned to look at my suitcase, filled with various dresses. For me, this was supposed to be a special journey. Because after returning home, I would dive into wedding preparations, ready to become a wife and perhaps even a mother. The day before we left, I was still up all night doing research. But fate always seems to enjoy playing tricks on the earnest. Both this relationship and this trip. They had both failed spectacularly. I looked out at the silent sea beyond the French doors, feeling my tears were utterly superfluous. Just as I was about to put down my phone and go to sleep, Michael’s phone received another message. From Chloe. Just a few simple words: “Feeling better?” I stared at it for two seconds, then, on an impulse, tapped the video call icon. It connected instantly, and Chloe, in a deep purple slip dress, filled the screen, her figure on full display. “You—why are you…” Facing her undisguised embarrassment, I smiled. “Chloe, honestly.” “If you want to hook up with someone else’s boyfriend, at least wait until I’ve broken up with him first. Then it’ll be legitimate, won’t it?” Chloe’s face went pale as she ended the call. … Perhaps it was pure exhaustion, but I slept incredibly deeply. Until Michael burst in and dragged me out of bed. “Harper, Chloe just broke up with her boyfriend, why would you upset her?” “If anything happens to her, I swear I’m through with you!” Chloe’s disappearance that morning had Michael pacing like a cat on a hot tin roof. Calling the police wasn’t enough; he even considered contacting the embassy. I kept wondering if Michael had ever been so anxious for me. But it seemed, not once. I always arrived ten minutes early for dates. I’d report everything I did outside, everyone I met. If Michael missed me, even if I was vacationing with my parents, I’d take the fastest flight to be there. That was my way of loving him. But in Michael’s eyes, it just made me clingy. Annoying. I didn’t know if I was using the wrong approach. Or perhaps, the fault wasn’t mine at all. That morning, Michael had yelled at me in front of his roommates, then later came back to ask for my help contacting the local expat community. Given my parents’ influence, they would certainly lend a hand. But why should I? Not only did Chloe have nothing to do with me. Even Michael, not yet married, was nothing to me. So I refused. “Chloe is an adult. She’s responsible for her own safety.” Those were the exact words Michael had told Chloe yesterday after he’d left me behind. Now, I returned them to him, word for word. Michael, however, became furious. “Harper, I only just realized today what a petty, small-minded woman you are!” “Do you think every man in the world should revolve around you?” “If you didn’t like me inviting Chloe on the trip, why didn’t you just say so?” Even his roommates chimed in. “Michael only invited Chloe because he didn’t want you to be the only girl, to make you feel comfortable.” “Harper, Michael’s been good enough to you. What more could you want?” Before Chloe left, she’d texted saying she didn’t want to spoil my fun. They immediately assumed I’d said something nasty to her. I had, indeed, but it was all true. Chloe, however, had used this method to turn the tables, and she’d succeeded. Since I couldn’t leave, I wasn’t going to waste my time. I was now by the sea, doing my pre-snorkeling warm-ups. The instructor said there was a good chance of seeing whale sharks today, and I was absolutely thrilled. As we prepared to head out, I saw Michael and his friends approaching, with Chloe at the center of their group. “I knew you wouldn’t hold a grudge against Harper, it was all a misunderstanding.” With that, Michael shot me a look, signaling for me to say something conciliatory to Chloe. I fought hard to keep from flipping a table right then and there, and instead turned and boarded the boat. Looks like I won’t have any peace today. It turned out Chloe had just been in a bad mood and had gone exploring the local market by herself. She even thoughtfully brought gifts for everyone. Leaving no room for complaint. After the boat set off, Michael, right in front of me, put on the handmade necklace Chloe had given him. “Chloe really has great taste.” Michael looked like he’d found a treasure. He then took off his original necklace and casually handed it to me. I remembered, it was my birthday gift to him last year. Michael had said he’d wear it forever, that it was a way for me to keep him close. Now, it seemed the meager sense of security he’d given me was entirely disposable. I silently lowered my hand, letting the necklace be swallowed by the waves without a sound. Letting go, that was my freedom too. At the snorkeling spot, Michael’s three roommates eagerly jumped into the water. He, like an expert, patiently helped Chloe adjust her mask, fins, and other gear. By the time Michael remembered me and turned to help, I was already fully geared up and had flipped over the side of the boat. There was no fear, only the thrill of exploring the ocean. Even in those few seconds when a whale shark swam alongside me, I felt an immense sense of fulfillment. Life’s choices, perhaps some are right, some are wrong. But they always correspond to different scenery. I’ve been here, I’ve loved, that’s enough. After snorkeling, the atmosphere on the boat ride back was incredibly awkward. Chloe, the university league champion for the 1000m butterfly, had surprisingly been afraid to get in the water today. Michael had ended up staying on the boat with her all afternoon. When the instructor enthusiastically showed off the snorkeling videos and photos he’d taken of me. It was clear Michael felt a pang of regret. “Harper, let’s come back again when we get married for our honeymoon.” Even now, Michael still thought I was just being dramatic yesterday. I was about to take this opportunity to make things clear, but then the wind suddenly picked up on the sea. The change happened in an instant. When the boat capsized, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t panicked. I instinctively reached out to Michael, who was closest to me. But my fingertips grazed his arm, grasping at empty air. I watched Michael, without hesitation, swim determinedly towards Chloe. For a moment, I was stunned, then a massive wave crashed over me, pulling me deeper into the sea. I struggled desperately, but it was useless. Both Michael and the shore were getting further and further away. Michael and I were neighbors, we went to the same elementary and middle schools. Back then, my family’s business was just starting, and my parents were very busy, so they had Michael and me walk to and from school together. Michael always loved to tease me as a kid. On the first day of school, he deliberately left me behind. I was timid back then, too scared to go anywhere. So I sat by the school gate, waiting from sunset until deep into the night. “Harper!” It wasn’t my parents who finally found me, it was Michael. “Are you stupid? You don’t even know how to get home!” After scolding me, Michael opened his backpack. It was full of snacks, all his apologies. “Remember to stick close to me from now on, understand?” Because of what Michael said, I became his shadow. Once, in a daze, I almost followed Michael into the boys’ restroom. I was so mortified, mocked by everyone, that I didn’t want to go to school. Michael then punched the leader of the bullies, knocking out his front tooth. It was as if he was telling everyone through his actions that being his sidekick wasn’t something to be ashamed of. In high school, my parents sent me to an international school. Michael attended the state’s top-ranked high school. Every Friday, I would wait for him early by his school gate. Michael would always toss his backpack at me with an annoyed look. Inside, it wasn’t full of snacks anymore, but bundles of love letters. Some were for him, some were for me. “Harper, don’t come to my school anymore. All these admirers of yours are driving me crazy.” I habitually followed behind Michael, meekly apologizing. But secretly, I’d open the love letters people sent him. Reading the veiled or bold confessions of affection, I’d get so jealous I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why, but I just felt that I was the only one who could be Michael’s girlfriend. He was never a patient person. Yet he would stay with me in the library for an entire afternoon. He would wait in line with me for two hours to buy trendy ice cream. On my 18th birthday, Michael, amidst shouts of encouragement, kissed me on the forehead. My face flushed crimson, wanting to disappear. My friend said Michael would definitely ask me out after college started. To go to the same school as him, I put in a lot of effort. Even my parents, who insisted I study abroad, were persuaded. But I never expected Michael to break his own rule for another girl on freshman orientation day. Chloe was a year above us and responsible for welcoming new students. On orientation day, my parents were busy, so Michael and I went together, eager to explore the campus where we’d spend the next four years. At the club recruitment fair, I was bumped. Michael shielded me, getting into an argument with a senior, almost coming to blows. Chloe stepped in to mediate and was accidentally grazed on the elbow by Michael. Michael immediately panicked, insisting on taking Chloe to the infirmary. And in the crowded hall, I couldn’t hold onto his arm. Michael’s phone was dead, so I couldn’t reach him, but I thought he’d eventually come back for me, so I waited where I was. In the end, Michael never showed up. That day, Chloe showed Michael around campus and invited him to join the swimming club. At the freshman welcome dance that evening, they were the most dazzling pair, while I arrived late. From that moment on, I decided I would no longer wait passively. I memorized Michael’s class schedule, always secretly making my way to his classrooms. If the photography club had an event, I’d volunteer as an external staff member. Everyone called me Michael’s inseparable shadow. But no one knew I was terrified, afraid Michael would be snatched away by someone else, like the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. College life was different from before. Michael had many friends; he no longer took me everywhere, even lying to me. I heard Michael was celebrating New Year’s Eve by the river with his roommates. Despite the heavy traffic, I braved the cold wind and rode a shared bike for two hours, just to watch fireworks with him at midnight. But when I shared my location, Michael was ten miles away at the mall, celebrating Chloe’s birthday. “Oh, Harper, while you’re at it, could you swing by Willow Street and grab a box of caramel egg tarts? Chloe’s craving them.” Even though both ends of the phone call were filled with noise. I felt an eerie silence all around me, being jostled by the New Year’s Eve crowds, like driftwood on the ocean, with no place to anchor.

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I had explicitly told Landon that I had zero tolerance for infidelity. During the raffle at the department’s celebratory dinner, the big screen paused briefly on newcomer Lily’s name, then finally settled on mine. The entire room instantly erupted. Colleagues gave Landon meaningful looks, especially since the prize was a seven-day couple’s cruise to Macau. “You two are so lucky!” “Don’t worry about work, we’ve got it covered, you two just enjoy your trip!” Everyone chattered excitedly, even pushing Landon onto the stage. I, brimming with joy, held up the cruise tickets to him. But he, expressionless, simply pulled them from my hand. After stepping down, he walked directly over to Lily and handed her the entire set of tickets. Only then did he turn to me and say, “The machine glitched. Lily was supposed to win; this prize belongs to her.” He added nonchalantly, “It’s just a trip, I’ll take you another time.” Watching Lily’s ecstatic reaction to holding the tickets, my lips curved into a cold, involuntary smile. I simply replied with one word: “Fine.” Because for me, one betrayal meant being discarded forever. 1 The female manager beside me instantly changed her expression. She pulled me aside and whispered, “Harper, you had the biggest contribution to this project. This prize was originally set aside for you…” “It’s fine, boss. It’s good to encourage newcomers.” The surrounding colleagues, hearing the commotion, were already sizing up Lily. She wore an ill-fitting dress, gazing at Landon with admiration. Landon gave her a slight nod and returned to his seat. The raffle continued, the next winner took the stage, and the room grew lively again. The celebratory dinner dragged on, and I sat at the head table, feeling a hundred eyes on me. Every time I turned, I’d meet the hurried averted gaze of three or five colleagues. Their eyes all seemed to ask, “How can you tolerate this?” On Landon’s side, Lily had already pulled her chair next to him. The overly narrow distance between them looked particularly out of place at the dining table. Lily shouldn’t have been at this celebratory dinner. The project was already winding down when Lily joined the company. It was Landon who insisted on bringing her, saying it would help new hires integrate faster. Furthermore, Landon often took her to various high-level meetings, claiming it was for experience. When I toasted my manager, she frowned and said, “Lily’s been with the company for almost three months, and I haven’t seen her sparkle yet, but her relationship with Manager Landon is a bit too close…” “Young people, not focused on their work. Her probation period, I think…” “Perhaps she just hasn’t found the right opportunity yet.” I clinked glasses with my manager. “You can observe her a little longer.” My manager snorted, dropping the subject. Finally, the banquet ended, and I had had more than a few drinks. As people were thinning out, Landon finally came up to me, complaining, “Why did you drink so much?” He naturally helped me up, chattering as usual: “Walk on your own, I can’t carry you…” I sat in the passenger seat, and Landon buckled my seatbelt. The car started, streetlights blurring outside the window, and we drove in silence. As we neared home, he finally couldn’t help but speak, “Are you mad about today?” “You saw it, Lily’s name flashed on the screen first, then maybe it glitched and showed yours.” “Giving it back to its rightful owner. Don’t fuss with a young girl.” I didn’t answer, just gazed out the window. In the underground garage, he gallantly opened my car door, helping me out. “Still mad? Didn’t I promise I’d go with you next time?” “Once the bonus comes in, I’ll take you to Macau for as many days as you want, on a cruise even more luxurious than this one.” My heart felt like it was being flayed repeatedly with a dull knife. I had lost count of how many times he had told me, “next time I’ll go with you,” or “next time I’ll buy it for you.” I only remembered he’d never once followed through. He always had an endless supply of excuses. He took it for granted that no matter how many times he disappointed me, I would always be there waiting for him. “Landon.” I stopped, fixing my gaze on his eyes. “I’ll be thirty in a few days. I promised my dad I’d be married before I turn thirty.” Landon was silent for a long time, then shifted his gaze away. “Thirty is still so young, what’s the rush?” He quickened his pace, walking ahead of me. “Besides, your thirtieth birthday is in less than half a month. We both have work; where would we find time to get married?” “We have plenty of time, no need to rush.” Getting married at the courthouse only takes a few hours. I remembered when the project was nearing completion, our manager called us both aside for a private chat. “You two put in a lot of time and effort on this project, and I’ve noticed.” “Once the project is over, come to me anytime for leave. I’ll approve whatever you need. You two should be getting ready for marriage, right?” Landon awkwardly brushed it off: “We’re busy now; let’s talk about it after the project is successfully wrapped up.” Afterward, he fled back to his cubicle as if escaping. In that moment, beyond gratitude for my manager, there was a deep sense of sorrow. Seven years of feelings, still unable to blossom into something concrete. Back inside, Landon took off his jacket and changed his shoes, his entire body relaxing. He seemed to think today’s incident was behind us, and turned to hug me. I sidestepped, avoiding him. Landon froze. “Let’s just… end it.” He widened his eyes, staring at me, silent for a long while. Finally, he chose to brush it off lightly: “You’re tired too. Let’s just leave it for today. You get some rest, I won’t bother you.” Ding-dong, his phone chimed. He picked it up, a frown creasing his brow. “Lily has a stomachache. I’m driving her to the hospital.” “It’s late, and it’s not safe for a young girl to go out alone.” He picked up his keys again, but didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he stood there, waiting for my reaction. It was as if he’d already prepared his lines, expecting to deal with my questions. But I just nodded calmly. “Okay.” Then, without looking back, I walked into the bathroom. Behind me, I heard Landon slam the door shut. I sank into the bathtub filled with hot water, feeling all the day’s exhaustion wash away. After showering, I returned to the bedroom. Staring at the photo display cabinet, now empty on one shelf, I felt a prolonged sense of disbelief. The largest, central shelf was where we’d planned to put our wedding photos. Now, the white surface was covered in a thick layer of dust. I walked over, looking at them layer by layer. Photos of dates in college, travel pictures, graduation photos… Fewer photos after starting work, but important days were always remembered. Another shelf held countless greeting cards he’d written to me. Back then, he would scour the internet for every sugary-sweet phrase he could find, copying them out for me. The topmost one was a postcard we bought during our graduation trip to Tibet. On the back, in his handsome handwriting, he’d written, “Praying to the Buddha, I vow to marry Harper Quinn before I turn thirty!” I always remembered the determination in his eyes when he wrote that line. Now, the paper had long yellowed, and his sincerity had long changed. I looked at them one by one, reminiscing day by day. I don’t know how long passed, but then I heard the front door open. My bedroom door gently pushed open. I was in the midst of putting the old photos back into the cabinet. Landon walked closer, looking at the photos in my hand, his expression softening. “You’re not sleeping yet, just to look at these pictures?” “Haven’t you seen them a million times?” I didn’t answer his question, casually asking, “How’s Lily?” “Nothing serious, just overate.” His voice held a hint of indulgent exasperation. “She just stuffs her face with anything tasty she sees. So undisciplined.” He then took the photos from my hand and shoved them all into the cabinet. “Stop looking, go to sleep.” He was already changed and in bed, urging, “Come on in.” I silently got up, turning to face him, my expression unruffled. “What’s wrong?” “Let’s end this.” Landon blinked twice, then laughed wryly: “Still mad about the cruise tickets? Such a small temper.” He switched off the bedroom light, plunging the room into instant darkness. His voice was lazy, tinged with fatigue: “Fine, I’ll plan the trip tomorrow. We’ll pick a date and go to Macau together.” I gazed at him in the darkness, my voice very soft: “I’m getting married, on my thirtieth birthday.” In the darkness, Landon sat bolt upright. His eyes gleamed with a cold light. “Harper Quinn, stop messing around. I’m very tired today.” “Who else are you going to find to marry besides me? Getting married isn’t something you can just decide to do and have happen instantly.” I calmly explained: “My parents have arranged everything. I just need to show up.” Landon suddenly became enraged. “How many times have I told you, don’t always listen to your parents so much. Our lives are for us! They tell you to get married now, and you just have to get married?” “I’ve taken leave. I’m getting my marriage license tomorrow.” Click, the blinding light momentarily stunned me. Landon’s chest heaved violently. “Harper Quinn! Have you ever respected my opinion?” “We do have time to breathe now, but we’re both in the prime of our careers. I know you want to get married quickly, but you can’t completely disrupt my career plans!” His career plan included time to travel with Lily for a week, but no time to get married to me. I had never, at any point, asked him for a grand wedding or ceremony. I just wanted to get legally married, for peace of mind. His time was scarce. After allocating it to work and Lily, there was naturally none left for me. If he wouldn’t give it to me, I had no choice but to seek it from someone else. I met his gaze, my heart unperturbed. “Yes, I want to get married quickly.” With that, I turned and walked into the guest room. I lay on the bed, staring blankly. This guest room only had one bed. We had originally planned to decorate it as a nursery, and the designs were all ready, but Landon’s “it’s too early” put it on hold. It became the guest room for when my parents visited. Lost in thought, my phone vibrated twice. It was a text from my dad. “Harper, have you talked it over with Landon? It’s still not too late to tell that boy the wedding is off.” There was nothing to discuss. His actions today were the best answer. “You two have been together for so many years. If Landon really isn’t willing, then wait a bit longer. It’s just that this marriage has been delayed for so long, and your mom and I are getting a little anxious…” “Your mom and I don’t want to pressure you. Your happiness is what matters most.” I had already waited too long for him. Perhaps reality had told me long ago that we weren’t right for each other. I just hadn’t wanted to believe it then. I typed out a line: “No need to wait. I trust you both to choose a good husband for me.” To avoid me, Landon moved directly into his office. I hadn’t explicitly said we were over, but my words, I’m sure, had made the implication clear enough. Even if he was now avoiding and refusing to communicate, it didn’t matter; the die was cast. This time, I didn’t ask Landon for his opinion. I simply paid the down payment on the house I had long admired, to be our marital home. I had already contacted a real estate agent to sell the current house. After packing my belongings, thinking the agent would come to take over the house in a few days, I still felt I should tell Landon. To see if he wanted to take it over or find another place to rent. But I called him five or six times, and all were rejected. Messages sent only received red exclamation marks. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to notify him in person at the office. When I arrived, the department office door was closed, but I could faintly hear laughter from inside. It was the weekend, and surprisingly, there were others in the office besides Landon and Lily. Lily’s voice chimed in then, “Landon, you have to vouch for me. It really wasn’t me who stole Harper’s prize; the machine just malfunctioned.” “Now a lot of people in the company are spreading rumors, and some are even saying I deliberately broke you two up!” My raised hand froze mid-air. Another male colleague teased, “Landon is so popular. Harper is still with him, but this young lady is already asking for a proper title. Trouble in paradise, eh?” Despite the teasing, Lily didn’t seem annoyed. “Don’t talk nonsense. What ‘proper title’? We just have a normal boss-employee relationship.” At that moment, Landon’s voice finally chimed in, “I’ll find an opportunity to hold a meeting and tell everyone. It’s time to clarify things. Lily shouldn’t be falsely accused.” That sentence stirred a memory from long ago. When our relationship became public, I had just started at the company, and Landon held a higher position than me. Some colleagues speculated that I was trying to gain advantages by deliberately seducing him. I wanted Landon to explain privately that we had been together since college. But back then, he said it wasn’t necessary, that colleagues would forget about it after a while. At the time, I didn’t understand. It was just a simple explanation; he could have cleared it up in casual conversation. Now I understood. He simply didn’t care enough about me. A chill settled in my heart. His indifference had been evident all along. Another colleague asked, puzzled, “Landon, are you really marrying Harper Quinn? I saw her post on social media that she already got married today.” Landon let out a mocking laugh. “Just a self-directed performance.” “We’ll see how she handles it when the groom doesn’t show up.” Someone sighed, “Landon, you’re really not going?” “Of course not. This time, she needs to learn a lesson.” “But Landon, you two have been together for a long time, haven’t you? I think you still need to talk things through, otherwise this might really be the end for you two…” The gossiping colleague, surprisingly, seemed to care more about our relationship than he did. Before Landon could speak, another colleague quickly interjected, “If it ends, it ends. Michael still has Lily anyway.” Lily, at the center of the conversation, laughed. “Oh, stop teasing me! I don’t want to be a home-wrecker~” Landon didn’t offer any explanation. Everyone started joking again, “Of course you’re not a home-wrecker~ If you ask me, if I were Landon, I’d swap Harper out. Been looking at her for too many years, gotten boring.” Having clearly heard all of this, I withdrew my hand from the door and turned to leave. It seemed Landon didn’t care even if I married someone else. In that case, having the agent come in a couple of days to clear out all his belongings and leave him homeless… I guess it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t tell him.

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For five years of marriage, my wife, Maya, always had her ex-husband, Chris, on her mind, while remaining utterly indifferent to me. On our wedding anniversary, she suddenly pulled out a scratched lottery ticket, telling me we’d won two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Before I could even process the joy, she added that Chris was planning to study abroad, and this money would be perfect for his tuition. The mortgage foreclosure notice in my hand slipped, hitting the floor with a soft thud. I stood there, completely stunned. “Our mortgage is already overdue, and my mom needs fifty thousand for life-saving surgery!” I couldn’t help but confront her. “If you give him that money, what about our house? What about my mom’s illness?” She frowned, countering, “The mortgage can be delayed a bit longer. We can find another way to scrape together your mom’s surgery fees.” “Chris has been depressed since our divorce, and he’s finally picked himself up. I can’t abandon him now,” she said self-righteously. I was silent for a long time, then took a deep breath and nodded. “Fine. If you want to give him the money, give it to him.” “But I won’t help you support your ex-husband anymore,” I calmly told her. 1 Maya’s face instantly hardened. “Julian, you’re not a child. Stop always bringing up divorce.” “You know my relationship with Chris. He never used to care about anything, and now, he’s finally making plans for the future.” She paused, her eyebrows relaxing, a faint smile playing on her lips: “This is a good thing. We should support him.” It was August, yet I felt a cold draft creeping up from my ankles, chilling my entire body. “So, our mortgage, my mother’s illness—you’re abandoning them?” The smile froze on her face. Maya turned her head away. “The mortgage can be put off a little longer. Your mother isn’t in immediate danger.” “But my mom’s surgery is scheduled for three days from now.” My voice trembled: “If we don’t pay fifty thousand within three days, the surgery won’t happen.” Maya stared directly at me, trying to reason: “It’s just that the surgery won’t happen, it’s not like she’s going to die immediately.” “But Chris has severe depression. If I don’t help him, he could commit suicide at any moment.” “You need to understand what’s urgent and what’s not.” I felt suddenly dizzy. My temples throbbed, my mind reeling with disbelief. “Maya, Chris’s severe depression isn’t new.” “From the moment we got married, you’ve said he could commit suicide at any moment, that we needed to look out for him. Yet, five years later, he’s still alive, isn’t he?” Maya, who had been leaning against the balcony railing, suddenly straightened up. “Watch your language. How can you talk about Chris dying?” I clenched my fist: “You were the first one to say that word about my mother. You can say it about my mother, but I can’t say it about Chris?” She immediately looked guilty. Her previously stiff posture slumped again: “That’s not what I meant. But Chris’s depression is because of the divorce; I have to take responsibility for that.” “His studies abroad will cost two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in tuition. The lottery winnings after tax are just enough. If I have the money but don’t help him, I’ll never have peace of mind.” After all the arguing, she was still going to give the money to Chris. I suddenly felt so tired. I leaned against the doorframe, hearing her phone ring with its custom tone. She answered, her voice soft and sweet: “It’s fine, Julian just has that temper. He’ll get over it in a couple of days.” “No, I told you I’d pay for your tuition, and I won’t go back on my word… Chris, studying abroad is the best decision you’ve ever made. Don’t give up on yourself.” She always encouraged him so gently. My phone vibrated. A message from my mom: “Julian, the family in the bed next to me gave me so many salted duck eggs. Maya loves these, doesn’t she? Come get them when you have time.” I looked at the smile in Maya’s eyes and, for the first time, interrupted her: “My mom…” I’d barely spoken two words when she immediately looked up, pressing a finger to her lips, letting out a sharp shhh. The tenderness she had for Chris turned entirely into impatience when she faced me. In that instant, my words caught in my throat, unable to come out or be swallowed. I tugged at the corner of my mouth. It was a laugh at her, and even more so, at myself. Maya’s call lasted half an hour. When she finally hung up, smiling, I was packing my suitcase. “Where are you going?” “The hospital, to stay with my mom.” She froze, then pursed her lips: “Your mom’s surgery can be delayed. It’s fine if you don’t stay with her.” “Tomorrow, I’m going to pay the tuition fees and help Chris buy some things for his studies. He’s worried you’ll misunderstand, so he asked me to bring you along.” My movements didn’t stop. I smoothly zipped up the suitcase. “It’s not the first time. There’s nothing for me to misunderstand.” “What…” “From now on, how you want to spend time with him, how much money you want to give him, it’s all up to you.” After changing my shoes, I gave her one last look before closing the door: “Maya, from today, you can support your ex-husband yourself.” “I’ll have my lawyer send you the divorce papers. I’m actually curious, once I become your ex-husband, will you treat me the same way you treat him?” At the hospital, Mom still didn’t know what had happened. She proudly showed me the salted duck eggs, reminding me to take them back for Maya tomorrow. I didn’t nod or shake my head. I just lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling until dawn. The next day, shortly after I mailed the divorce papers, Chris called me, sighing: “Julian, are you two still fighting?” “I’m sorry, I always cause you trouble, becoming a burden…” Patients and family members came and went in the hallway. I suddenly felt intensely irritated. “Chris, I’m busy. I don’t have time for your sob story.” “If you want to cry, go find Maya. She’s free as a bird; she can revolve around you 24/7.” With that, I hung up and went to the cafeteria to get food for my mom. My phone rang again while I was in line. Maya, barely controlling her anger, demanded: “Julian, how many times have I told you Chris has severe depression and can’t be provoked!” “How could you call him a burden!” I frowned, bewildered: “He said it himself.” Maya immediately flared up: “You’re still denying it? Do you know that because of what you said, Chris cut his wrists!” “How could you be so heartless? He’s a living, breathing person! I was going to use the lottery money to help him regain hope, and now you’ve ruined everything!” I immediately stopped, walked to the side, and chilled my tone: “You know he has severe depression. ‘Burden’ is his catchphrase; I never said it.” “Also, he’s a life. Is my mom’s life not a life?” “When we got married, you didn’t bring any dowry and were buried in debt. My mom took out her one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in savings to help you pay off those debts. Now you’ve won two hundred and fifty thousand, and you can’t even spare fifty thousand for my mom’s medical treatment. What right do you have to call me heartless?” The other end of the phone fell silent. Maya seemed to want to speak, then stopped several times: “I will definitely pay back your mother’s money, and I’ll find another way to cover the medical fees.” I gritted my teeth: “Have you signed the divorce papers?” “I won’t sign them. I won’t divorce you.” Chris suddenly called her name from nearby. She sped up her words: “Just calm down, I’ll deal with Chris’s situation and I promise I’ll give you an explanation.” The call ended. I took a deep breath, got the food, and brought it to my mom. Mom sensed something was wrong and asked if we had argued. I shook my head, quickly changing the subject to avoid it. But in reality, in our five years of marriage, we had argued for five years because of Chris. We were husband and wife, yet her thirty thousand salary had two hundred and fifty thousand going to her ex-husband. This was a clause she had actively added to her divorce settlement. She spent her days chatting with him, taking him to therapy, and traveling with him every quarter to clear his head. His messages were always replied to instantly, and if he needed anything, she would immediately drop me and rush to his side. Even when my mom had a sudden medical emergency in the middle of the night, Maya would drive away our only car because Chris “was having a bad day.” I had argued and fussed, but she always came back to the same phrase: “Chris’s depression is because of me; I can’t abandon him.” Too much disappointment, accumulated into despair. But now, my biggest regret was marrying her without hesitation, all because of the little bit of kindness she showed me back then. Mom felt sorry for my bare-bones wedding and used all her savings to help Maya pay off her debts. She thought this would help us live a good life, but in the end, it was all just a mess. After dinner, the nurse suddenly came to find me, saying the card I’d given her didn’t have enough money. My mind reeled. That was the eighty thousand dollars I had painstakingly borrowed from friends, intended for the surgery prepayment. I urgently called Maya, but she hung up on me ten times. Just as I was about to call the police, she sent a nonchalant message: “I transferred the money from the card. Chris’s depression has severely relapsed, and I’ve booked him a therapist.” I immediately took a taxi to the most exclusive psychology clinic in the area. In the past, every time Chris had an episode, Maya would take him for treatment. The cost was ridiculously high, eighty thousand dollars for two hours, and she always paid. When I entered, Maya was waiting at the door. Seeing me, she rushed over: “What are you doing here… Don’t make a scene. Chris is in therapy, he can’t be disturbed.” She lowered her voice, trying to pull me away. I bit down hard on my molars and pushed her away, asking each word clearly: “That’s eighty thousand dollars I borrowed from friends, to pay for my mom’s surgery!” “Maya, how could you… how could you transfer all of it?!” I finished shouting, breathing heavily, and the previously quiet hallway filled with murmurs. Maya’s eyebrows furrowed, and her face darkened: “I told you, Chris cut his wrists. If I hadn’t gotten there in time, he would be dead. If I don’t book him a therapist now, he’ll become even more radical!” “Then why didn’t you use your lottery money? Maya, you won two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!” Anger made my body rigid, my voice trembling uncontrollably: “You have a full two hundred and fifty thousand dollars! You could spare a little and he’d be able to see ten therapists!” “Why did you touch the eighty thousand dollars I painstakingly gathered? That’s my mother’s life-saving money!” Someone not far away looked over. Maya’s throat bobbed. Her tone was both flustered and resolute: “That two hundred and fifty thousand is for his studies abroad; it can’t be touched.” I froze, then let out a hollow, absurd laugh. She sighed heavily: “I’ve talked to you about it. I divorced Chris because of personality differences, but it wasn’t until I married you that I found out I was already pregnant with his child back then.” “I had an abortion to marry you. When he found out, it led to his depression.” “This is what I owe him.” I bit my lip: “Maya, you can pay back what you owe him yourself, but are you really so eager for my mom to die?” Maya’s expression instantly changed: “What nonsense are you saying? Your mom is my mom. How could I possibly want her to die?” “I asked a friend about your mom’s surgery; it’ll be fine if she has it next year.” “If Chris is okay today, he’ll go to Canada to study, and I’ll finally be at peace. I’ll work hard and save money for your mom’s surgery in the future.” I slowly shook my head: “I don’t believe you!” “Give the money back right now!” No sooner had the words left my mouth than the consultation room door suddenly opened. Through the crack, I saw Chris crying. Maya instantly lost her composure, turning to rush inside. I desperately gripped her sleeve: “Give me the money back!” Her entire face was scrunched up. She pushed me away: “You go home first. I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve calmed Chris down.” The door closed. Maya’s incredibly gentle voice drifted out, comforting him. I was unwilling to give up, my nerves taut as I was about to pound on the door, when I suddenly remembered our house. We had bought it together after we got married. It wasn’t big, but it could sell for several hundred thousand dollars. Ignoring everything else, I rushed to contact a friend, planning to sell the house. But on the way to the housing registry, my friend called, hesitating. “Julian, your house has already been sold. Didn’t you know?” I gasped. “When?” “Last month. After all the fees and late penalties, it fetched five hundred thousand dollars.” “Your wife personally signed the papers. After selling it, she rented it back from the new owner for six months…” My fingers loosened, and my phone dropped to the ground. My last hope had vanished last month. Every step back to the hospital felt like my legs were filled with lead, hard to move, yet I couldn’t stop. Only when I reached a red light did I snap back to reality and open Chris’s social media. Last month, he posted daily fitness videos. He supposedly hired the best celebrity personal trainer, whose fees were exorbitant, and one-on-one sessions were double that. Maya liked every post, and on one, she even sent a clapping emoji. “Be confident, take your time, I’m always here.” I found it strange back then. He couldn’t find a job due to his depression, and Maya had supported him for five years. How could he afford hundreds of thousands of dollars for a celebrity trainer? But now I understood. To give him confidence, to prevent him from suicidal thoughts, my wife had sold the house we bought together and hired him a trainer. My nails dug deep into my thigh, but I was already numb. I mechanically answered the hospital’s call, apologizing repeatedly, promising to pay all fees as soon as possible, begging them not to cancel the surgery schedule. After hanging up, I looked up at the gloomy sky. In the two months I dated Maya, I thought I had found true love. But after five years of marriage, I had nothing. A sudden clap of thunder struck. I steadied myself and headed back to the hospital to care for my mom. That night, I borrowed from every relative and friend I knew, but by morning, it still wasn’t enough. A friend remarked: “If Maya hadn’t had those debts, your mom’s savings would definitely be enough.” I sat bolt upright. When we got married, Maya had no house, no car, and wasn’t a gambler. Where did these debts come from? I opened Chris’s social media again. Updated ten minutes ago: [Going to study abroad in Canada soon. It’s a shame to leave the house empty. Contact me if you want to rent it!] He has a house? Didn’t Maya say she and Chris had a bare-bones wedding and rented? The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt. I went home and pried open Maya’s desk drawer. She had a habit of keeping everything related to money. There was a stack of various receipts on top, with the celebrity trainer’s payment slip in the middle. Flipping to the very bottom, a property purchase contract boldly appeared. “One hundred thousand dollars, property owner, Chris.” This was the debt she spoke of. Rage instantly choked me. I pulled out my phone to take photos for my lawyer, then suddenly noticed several luxury item receipts in the contract. A watch, bespoke clothing, rings, a bracelet, and cufflinks, totaling almost fifty thousand dollars. In the bottom right corner, Maya’s handwriting read: “What I owed you when we got married, I will make up to you little by little.” I opened my mouth, staring in disbelief over and over, then looked at the purchase date. It was the second month after Maya and I were married. We had just returned from our honeymoon, and I was still full of hope for the future, when she solemnly told me about her ex-husband’s illness. From then on, I was trapped by the words “Chris’s severe depression,” unable to escape. But today I learned that the one hundred and fifty thousand dollars she got from my mom under the guise of “debt” was used to buy Chris a house and all those luxury items. All these years, her concern for her ex-husband wasn’t guilt; it was clearly that she had never truly broken things off with him. I was just stuck in the middle, wasting five years of my life. An icy chill shot up from my feet. My heart was completely dead. I swallowed hard, photographed all the receipts for my lawyer, and then called the police. “I want to report a scam. The amount involved is at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and the perpetrator is about to flee the country by plane. I request immediate interception!”

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When I awoke, I found myself back on the day I was to operate on my husband’s cherished former love. In my past life, I spent ten grueling hours in surgery to save her, only to be framed by my husband afterward. He bribed a nurse to testify I gave the wrong drug, causing her death, and accused me of killing her out of jealousy. My medical career was destroyed, and I was shunned by all. My mother, trying to defend me online, was driven to suicide by cyberbullying. Overwhelmed, I jumped from the hospital roof. After I died, I saw my husband take my insurance and inheritance, then live happily with his “reborn” first love. This time, on the morning of my scheduled promotion to Vice President, I took an iron weight and crushed my right hand. The injury made me miss the crucial surgery. Everyone pitied me for ruining my future. Overjoyed, I went home and drank two bottles of fine Bordeaux. 1 “What the hell happened to Dr. Pierce’s hand?” “Who knows? Maybe she was terrified of botching tomorrow’s surgery. A failure like that would humiliate our newly appointed VP!” I walked through the hospital corridors, completely ignoring the gossip and wild speculation filtering out of the breakrooms. My face remained an mask of total calm as I headed straight for the Director’s office. My phone screen lit up. A text from my husband, Declan. [Val, I’m leaving Serena in your hands tomorrow. I know you’ll fix her. Love you babe, xoxo.] It was the exact same message he sent in my past life. Back then, my heart had fluttered at the words “Love you.” Now, only a venomous chill spread through my veins. Director Brooks stared at my heavily casted right hand, his forehead wrinkling into a deep frown. “How could you be so careless, Valerie? Of all the times to get injured.” “I was planning to use tomorrow’s surgery to solidify your authority here. You know perfectly well there’s still a faction opposing your promotion to Vice President.” I lowered my eyes, letting my gaze fall onto my completely immobilized fingers. After a long, deliberate pause, I spoke. “I’m so sorry, Director Brooks. I know I let you down.” “Let my father-in-law take the scalpel tomorrow. Adam has the seniority and the surgical skills to outshine almost anyone in this hospital.” Director Brooks let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose we don’t have a choice. Go home, Valerie. Take some time to rest.” Leaving the hospital grounds, I hailed a cab and headed straight to my mother’s house. Watching the city streets blur past the window, my heart felt a strange, profound peace. Everyone pitied me for losing the perfect chance to prove my worth. But I was the only one who knew the truth. That supposedly glorious surgery was nothing but a massive, meticulously planned trap. Before I could even fish my keys out of my purse, the front door swung open. My mom stood there, her eyes red-rimmed as she stared at my bandaged hand. Pure maternal panic was written all over her face. “Valerie! Honey, is your hand going to be okay?” Seeing my mother standing there, alive and breathing, a painful lump formed in my throat. I practically threw my arms around her, hugging her tighter than I ever had. “Mom, I missed you so much.” She stiffened in surprise for a second before gently rubbing my back. “Sweetheart, did someone at work treat you badly?” “Listen to me. Tell your bosses you need a leave of absence. Stay home and rest. I don’t care about you being a big shot doctor. I just want my daughter to be safe and happy.” A single tear slipped down my cheek. Mom, I want you to be safe too. I’ve been given a second chance at life, and I swear to God I will rewrite both of our fates. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced a lighthearted smile. “Don’t worry, Mom. The Director gave me a whole month off.” “I just need to pop into the hospital tomorrow to sort out some paperwork, and then I’m all yours.” My mom beamed, nodding repeatedly. “Oh, an old woman like me doesn’t need babysitting. You should spend that time with Declan. You’ve been working yourself to the bone these past few years. It hasn’t been easy on him being home alone so much.” The warmth drained from my face the second I heard Declan’s name. Right on cue, my phone buzzed with another text from him. [Valerie, why aren’t you replying? Serena said you didn’t even do rounds today. What kind of attending physician are you? Are you even prepped for tomorrow’s surgery?!] 2 In my previous life, I basically lived in the hospital archives trying to guarantee Serena’s survival. I read endless medical journals and watched surgical recordings until my eyes bled. But the moment I pulled Serena back from death’s door, the husband I adored threw me to the wolves. He accused me of treating human life like garbage just to settle a petty, jealous grudge. My brilliant, hard-earned future was shattered into a million dark pieces. To make the charges stick, he bribed a scrub nurse. I can still remember the blinding flash of the press cameras as that nurse pointed right at me, his face twisted in fake outrage. “I saw Dr. Pierce swap the patient’s life-saving medication with my own two eyes!” Worse, Declan leaked a video of an argument between Serena and me. In the clip, I had lost my temper and shouted, “Why won’t you just drop dead?!” Those words became the final nail in my coffin. No matter how loud I screamed, no matter how desperately I pleaded my innocence, I couldn’t fight their manufactured witnesses and fabricated evidence. The world decided I was a monster hiding in a white lab coat. Only my mother stood by me. But the harder she fought to clear my name, the more viciously the internet tore her apart. It broke her mind, eventually leading to her fatal fall into the river. On the day the police came with a formal arrest warrant, I climbed to the hospital roof and stepped off the ledge. As a ghost, I haunted Declan’s side just long enough to see Serena miraculously come out of hiding, completely cured. Maybe the universe felt the suffocating weight of my hatred, because it actually hit the rewind button. This time around, Serena’s surgeon was Declan’s own biological father. Let’s see how he plans to dump this bucket of blood on my head now. The next morning, I arrived at the hospital early. I practically superglued myself to Director Brooks, staying in his office to discuss administrative matters all day long. When the timing felt right, I finally excused myself. The moment I stepped toward the surgical wing, Declan appeared. He brought a massive crowd of people with him, completely blocking my path. Because I kept my cast hidden inside the deep pocket of my oversized white coat, Declan had no idea my hand was crushed. He stormed right up to me and slapped me hard across the face. “Valerie Pierce! You call yourself a doctor?! You murdered your own patient out of pure, petty jealousy! You are a sick, twisted psychopath!” I pressed my tongue against the inside of my stinging cheek, tasting a hint of copper. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone in Declan’s mob already holding up a phone, recording everything. I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “What the hell are you talking about? When did I ever kill a patient? Serena’s surgery…” Declan’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked completely unhinged as he cut me off. “Did you really think calling it a surgical complication would let you get away with murder?!” “You killed Serena on purpose!” The crowd, supposedly Serena’s grieving relatives, immediately began shouting. They didn’t give me a single second to speak, rushing forward to grab and shove me. “You piece of trash! You shouldn’t be allowed near a hospital!” “You’re going to pay for this with your life!” Luckily, hospital security was already sprinting down the hall. I only took one punch to the jaw and a few muddy footprints on my lab coat before the guards formed a barricade. Standing safely behind a burly security guard, I glared daggers at Declan. I spoke slowly, enunciating every single syllable. “I didn’t kill Serena. If you’re going to make accusations, Declan, you better have proof.” Declan didn’t look panicked at all. Instead, he put on an Oscar-worthy performance of a heartbroken, morally conflicted husband. “Valerie, I might be your husband, but I’m a human being first. I can’t just turn a blind eye to your evil.” “Don’t blame me for this. Before God and the law, I have to do the right thing. I have to get justice for the dead.” Right at that exact moment, Director Brooks hurried onto the scene, looking furious. 3 “I am the Director of this hospital! What on earth is happening here? If you’re intentionally causing a riot outside my operating rooms, I will have you all arrested.” Declan immediately spoke up, his tone dripping with fake respect. “Director Brooks, thank god you’re here. Valerie abused her medical authority to intentionally murder a patient on the operating table. This hospital owes the grieving family an explanation.” Director Brooks gave Declan a highly skeptical look. “If my memory serves me right, you are Dr. Adam Pierce’s son, and Valerie’s husband.” Declan’s facial muscles twitched for a split second. “I am. But I refuse to bury my conscience just to protect my wife. If I cover for a murderer, I won’t be able to sleep at night.” Watching Declan act like the patron saint of justice physically hurt my chest. Since the day we married, I had catered to his every whim. My mother treated him like the son she never had. And in return, he pushed us into a literal grave. Director Brooks crossed his arms, looking utterly baffled. “That makes no sense. Valerie hasn’t been scheduled for an OR rotation in days. And her surgical record is flawless.” Declan’s voice cracked an octave higher. “Are you blind? She literally just operated on Serena this morning!” I finally stepped out from behind the security guard. “I wasn’t Serena’s surgeon. I spent the entire day inside Director Brooks’ office.” The Director nodded firmly, verifying my alibi. The chaotic hallway instantly dropped into a dead silence. Declan clearly hadn’t accounted for this plot twist. He stood frozen, his brain visibly short-circuiting. Suddenly, a new thought seemed to spark in his eyes, and he pointed a shaking finger at me. “I get it now! You finished the surgery early, killed her, and then ran to the Director’s office to establish a fake alibi behind his back!” Honestly, I had to admire his desperate imagination. Right on cue, a young nurse pushed his way to the front of the mob. He pointed directly at me, his chest heaving with rehearsed indignation. “I can prove it! Dr. Pierce is the one who killed Serena!” Looking at Toby’s handsome, innocent-looking face, pure rage bubbled in my gut. I would recognize this toxic little snake even if he were burned to ash. In my past life, Toby used that exact same innocent face to lie to the press and the police, turning my life into a living hell. But in this life, I hadn’t even set foot in the surgical wing. How the hell was he planning to frame me now? Swallowing the venom in my throat, I stared him down. “Nurse Toby, I’ve never done anything to you. Why are you trying to frame me?” A flicker of guilt flashed in Toby’s eyes, but he quickly masked it, speaking with dramatic conviction. “You’re right, Dr. Pierce. We have no personal issues. But I took an oath to protect patients.” “I saw it with my own two eyes! You swapped Serena’s IV meds. You made sure she died on that table.” “And everyone knows why. You suspected Serena of sleeping with your husband, so you took your revenge!” To seal the deal, Toby pulled out his phone and played the exact same video that had doomed me in my past life. 4 The video played loudly. There I was, face flushed with anger, arguing with Serena in her hospital gown. My voice echoed through the hallway speakers. “Why won’t you just drop dead?!” The nurses and doctors who had gathered to watch the drama began whispering furiously among themselves. “I always thought Dr. Pierce was so elegant. I didn’t know she was psycho behind closed doors. Does she have anger issues?” “You really never know a person. How else do you think she became Vice President so young?” “Do you think she really killed a patient over a guy?” The family mob flared up again. A few heavily built men cracked their knuckles, looking like they were ready to rush me. But the moment they lunged, twenty hospital security guards slammed them back against the wall. Prevented from throwing punches, they settled for screaming vicious curses at my face. Even Director Brooks looked at me with a hint of doubt. Seeing this, a smug, victorious gleam appeared in Declan’s eyes. He seized the moment to deliver the final blow. “Valerie, the motive, the witness, the evidence. It’s all here. What lies are you going to spin now?” I didn’t flinch. I just smoothed down the lapels of my coat. “A heavily edited video clip with zero context isn’t evidence of anything.” Toby ground his teeth, stepping closer. “Prove it’s edited, Dr. Pierce. Prove it.” I tilted my head, smiling coldly. “No, Toby. You prove I swapped the medication. Tell everyone exactly when and where I did it.” Toby puffed out his chest, clearly prepared for the question. He sounded entirely convinced of his own lie. “It was right before the surgery this morning. In the prep room. You injected an unknown substance directly into Serena’s IV bag.” “So I personally pushed the syringe?” I asked. “Yes! I saw you do it!” Hearing his confident answer, I locked eyes with Director Brooks. The Director’s face turned a violent shade of purple. He stepped forward, pointing a heavy finger at Toby. “What department do you even work in, son?” Under the Director’s crushing authority, Toby’s fake confidence began to crack. “I… I’m a scrub nurse in the surgical wing, sir.” “If you work in the OR, why are you out here actively slandering one of our top doctors?! Do you have any idea what happens to liars who try to destroy this hospital from the inside?!” Toby turned completely pale, stammering defensively. “Director, I swear I’m telling the truth!” “You can’t just throw a junior nurse like me under the bus just to protect your precious Vice President!” Declan shot me a filthy look before turning to the crowd, expertly fanning the flames. “He’s right! You can’t threaten a whistleblower just to cover up Valerie’s crimes!” “Does human life mean absolutely nothing to you corporate doctors?!” “I’m calling the cops right now. The police will get us the truth.” I took a step forward, my voice ringing loud and clear down the corridor. “Please do. Call the police. Because I would love to ask a detective how a surgeon with shattered fingers managed to push a syringe, let alone operate on a patient.” Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my right hand out of my deep pocket. The massive, thick cast securing my severely broken hand was finally exposed to the fluorescent lights. Declan and Toby stared at my cast. All the color drained from their faces simultaneously. But my broken hand wasn’t the only nightmare waiting for Declan. A split second later, the heavy electronic doors of the operating room slid open. A surgeon wearing blood-spattered scrubs walked out. When he saw the Director, a tired but relieved smile spread across his face. “Director Brooks. The surgery was a total success. Once the anesthesia wears off, the patient can be moved to a regular recovery room.” Declan let out a horrifying, high-pitched scream. “Dad?! Who did you just operate on?!”

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1 I left my rich family to live in a cramped basement with Grayson, giving up my socialite life for him while pregnant. I used my entire billion-dollar trust fund to rebuild his failing business. Months later, Grayson became Chicago’s wealthiest billionaire. Everyone said I’d gambled and won. But the day I went into labor, my ex-best friend Tessa did too. As I struggled in pain, Grayson signed surgical forms for us both, announcing that both babies were his. He admitted Tessa was his college sweetheart who’d left him when he was poor. I was just a stepping stone. Now wealthy, she’d returned and even allowed her child to bear his name. Through my pain, Grayson laughed, saying I’d naively welcomed Tessa into our home and served her. He offered to let me keep the title of Mrs. Rowland if I didn’t mind sharing him, but warned I’d sleep alone. With no family or society to turn to, he asked if I needed him to spell out my choice. … The violent agony of the induced labor swallowed my senses. I bit down on my lip until I tasted copper, enduring the sensation of my body tearing itself apart. “Why tell me today?” I forced the words through my trembling teeth. Grayson raised a casual eyebrow. He reached out to smooth my sweat drenched hair, his expression carrying a sickening mix of relief and fake pity. “Tessa is having her baby today too. I swore to her that I would give her a proper title.” “She endured a whole year of hiding in the shadows for me. It’s time to put an end to her suffering.” My heart violently seized, suffocating me. I wanted to scream, to curse him for his sick deception, but the excruciating pain in my stomach reduced me to quiet, breathless sobbing. “Grayson, do you even have a heart? I abandoned my entire family for you.” I thought I would see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. At the very least, a trace of conflict. But his next words turned the blood in my veins to solid ice. “Amy, how much longer are you going to hold that over my head?” “You chose to do that. I never begged you for a dime. Stop playing the tragic victim.” His face was completely blank, as if he were discussing the weather. I lay completely frozen until a fresh wave of blinding cramps dragged me back to reality. “It hurts. It hurts so much.” I let out a guttural cry. Grayson finally turned to call for a doctor. But right at that moment, a piercing scream echoed from the VIP suite next door. “Grayson! The baby is coming!” The man snapped his head toward the door. Without a second thought, he peeled my desperate, clinging fingers off his sleeve one by one. “Hold on a minute, Amy. Tessa is crowning. I’ll be right back to sign your epidural release.” “Grayson, they gave me pitocin!” I shrieked, my vocal cords tearing. The only response I got was the sight of his retreating back as he sprinted out the door. The heart monitor beside my ear shrieked in warning. Hot, thick blood poured relentlessly over the delivery bed, soaking the sheets. My lower body felt like it was being ripped open by a jagged blade. I didn’t even have the strength left to cry for help. Every single available doctor and nurse had been summoned to Tessa’s room. I dragged my trembling hand toward the emergency call button clamped to the bedrail. My sweat slicked fingers slipped. With a heavy crash, I tumbled off the mattress onto the cold tile floor. The heavy IV pole toppled over, smashing directly onto my back. Laying in a pool of my own blood, I felt my womb growing terrifyingly hollow. Total despair swallowed me whole. My mind flashed through everything Grayson had done to win me over. Before I met him, I was the beloved heiress of the Kensington family. The line of wealthy heirs begging for my attention stretched all the way to Paris. But Grayson wanted me. He lowered his pride to act as my personal bodyguard. He let my snobby socialite friends treat him like a stray dog without a single complaint. When I mentioned a dress I liked, he tracked down exclusive designers across the globe to custom make pieces just for me. He offered to sign away his pride and marry into my family, taking my last name just to prove his devotion. Even when I surrounded myself with gorgeous male models at parties, he just stood in the corner with red eyes, willingly playing the role of my pathetic backup plan. Eventually, he broke through my walls. I fell madly in love with him. I never imagined it was a meticulously crafted trap to steal my fortune. When I opened my eyes again, my heart was hammering frantically against my ribs. I grabbed the sleeve of a passing nurse. “Where is my baby?!” The nurse offered a sympathetic smile. “Miss Kensington, your daughter was very weak. She’s currently stabilizing in the neonatal incubator.” Knowing my little girl was alive, a flood of hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I covered my mouth, completely overcome by muffled, shaking sobs. But through the thin walls, I heard deafening cheers erupting from the adjacent room. “Congratulations to Tessa for giving the boss a baby boy!” “Hell yeah! Tessa is the real deal. Not like Amy, popping out a useless little girl!” The nurse gave me an awkward, pitying look before stepping out. I stopped crying. I wiped my face with the back of my bruised hand, my eyes hardening into glass. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and opened the Kensington family group chat. I hadn’t sent a message in over a year. “Mom, Dad, Cole. I was so wrong. I’m ready to come home. I’m bringing my daughter to New York.” Grayson Rowland, since you never cared about our child, don’t blame me when we disappear from your life forever. Just as I locked my phone, Tessa walked into my room. Her eyes were artificially glossy with fake tears as she cradled her newborn son against her chest. “Amy! I am so sorry. It’s all my fault for having such a long labor. I heard you hemorrhaged from the delay.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet sincerity, as if my near fatal blood loss was the greatest tragedy of her life. “But don’t worry, Amy. Even though you only had a girl, my son is basically yours too. You can be his godmother.” My face was a mask of pure frost. “I seriously doubt Grayson would ever let me touch his precious heir.” Tessa’s face drained of color. “Amy, you… you know everything. Please don’t overthink this. Grayson and I were just friends with benefits.” Friends with benefits. A dark, venomous laugh escaped my throat. What kind of best friend sleeps with her friend’s boyfriend and shamelessly calls it a casual arrangement? And then has the audacity to birth his bastard child. I spent fifteen years protecting Tessa. When her stepdad abused her, I called the cops and hid her in my mansion. When she fell into deep depression, I paid for the best therapists in the country to pull her out of the dark. I spent millions of dollars making sure she had a good life. And she repaid me by turning into a bloodsucking parasite. Pure, boiling rage consumed me. I glared at her pathetic, innocent mask. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from my nightstand and hurled it directly at her face. The glass shattered against the wall with a deafening crash. But it didn’t hit Tessa. Grayson had materialized out of nowhere, shielding her. A thick stream of blood slid down his forehead where a piece of shrapnel caught him. His broad back was rigid, acting as a human shield for Tessa and his newborn son. “Amy Kensington, that is aggravated assault. I will lock you in a federal prison for the rest of your life.” My chest physically ached at the sight. Then came his cold, disgusted reprimand. “Tessa dragged herself out of bed right after giving birth just to check on you. She cares about you to a fault, and you throw a fucking vase at her head?” “If you had hurt my son, how would you ever repay me? You have absolutely nothing left to your name.” Those two questions dug into my brain like rusted spikes. My lips twitched into a bitter smirk. I stared at Grayson, my eyes hollow with profound disappointment. When his company’s funding collapsed and his parents were sent to federal prison on fraud charges, he had absolutely no one. It was me who threw away my pride. I begged my elite friends for high interest loans to bail him out. When the money still wasn’t enough, I crawled on my knees begging my parents and my brother. When they refused, I sneaked into my grandfather’s estate in the dead of night, legally liquidating my billion dollar inheritance just to save Grayson’s pathetic life. I was a billionaire heiress who had never done a load of laundry in her life. Yet I followed him to cheap motels, ate instant noodles, and sold off my designer bags one by one to pay his lawyers. During my pregnancy, I was so malnourished I could barely stand. I refused to buy meat just to save a few extra dollars for his startup. And now, for the sake of his mistress, he casually erased all my sacrifices and nailed me to a cross. A faint cry from the incubator down the hall broke the suffocating silence. I suddenly remembered my fragile daughter, hooked up to a dozen IV needles because of my delayed labor. I grabbed my water glass, the floral arrangement, anything I could reach, and violently hurled them at the two of them. “Get out! You disgusting pieces of trash. I hope you two rot in hell together!” I screamed until my lungs burned. My entire body shook uncontrollably with absolute fury. Grayson just tightened his grip on Tessa and escorted her out the door. Once they were gone, the adrenaline faded. I collapsed back onto the cold linoleum floor, completely numb and drained. Suddenly, a terrifying wave of manic depression hijacked my brain. My skull throbbed with a splitting agony. I grabbed fistfuls of my own hair and began slamming my head violently against the floor tiles. After cutting ties with my family, the prolonged, crushing stress of poverty had given me severe bipolar depression. When the episodes hit, the urge to destroy myself was a living, breathing monster. Losing total control, I grabbed a jagged piece of porcelain from the broken vase. I dragged it hard across my forearm, watching the blood well up. The hospital door was suddenly kicked open. Grayson dropped to his knees, pulling me tightly into his chest. Panic laced his voice. “Amy, I’m here. I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s over.” The manic rage inside me wasn’t satisfied. Just as I raised the bloody shard to cut myself again, Grayson shoved his bare forearm directly against my mouth. My teeth sank deep into his flesh. I heard his sharp hiss of pain ringing in my ear. I froze. Clarity slowly seeped back into my fractured mind. I looked down and saw his arm was already covered in a dozen faded bite marks. Tessa also suffered from severe depression. A sudden, horrifying realization washed over me. I let out a miserable, broken laugh. “Why Tessa?” “Grayson Rowland, are you actually stupid or just pretending? She stole your company’s classified data from me. She sold your entire empire out to the Sinclair Group. Did you conveniently forget that?” Grayson lowered his gaze. His thumb gently wiped a tear from my cheek. “I haven’t forgotten. But that’s in the past. After my parents went to prison, you were completely obsessed with the legal battles. You never noticed my suffering. Tessa was the one who stayed by my side in the dark. She pulled me out of the abyss.” I threw my head back and let out a hysterical, mocking laugh. Tears poured freely down my face. So my sleepless nights bribing lawyers, begging for leniency, running myself into the ground until I looked like a corpse. The night I was cornered by thugs in the slums and almost assaulted just trying to deliver his legal paperwork. To him, all of that meant absolutely nothing compared to Tessa’s fake sympathy. An invisible hand gripped my heart, squeezing until I was on the brink of total collapse. Like a glutton for punishment, I asked one last question to finally kill whatever love I had left for him. “How did we both get pregnant at the exact same time?” Grayson stiffened. A nostalgic, almost amused smirk touched his lips. “A year ago, after you were cornered in that alleyway. You swore those guys didn’t touch you. But honestly, the thought of it disgusted me. You flinched every time I came near you. Under all that pressure, Tessa and I rekindled things. She told me she was doing it for your sake. We even signed a casual hookup agreement.” “Now that I’m a billionaire, she doesn’t have to leave me. She even went under the knife for breast implants just for me. She bought endless sets of lingerie to keep things interesting. When your depression flared up and you locked yourself away, I couldn’t handle the suffocating energy. I went to a hotel with Tessa. We went through five boxes of condoms in a single night.” “I can lie to the press, Amy, but I can’t lie to my own heart.” Every single word was a serrated hook ripping through my flesh. I couldn’t fathom it. This was the same man who once promised me a pure, childfree life. The man who claimed he only wanted a deep, emotional connection with me. And yet he surrendered his entire soul for a pair of fake breasts and cheap hotel sex. My stomach violently turned. No wonder the first time we slept together after my trauma, when I was crying and begging him to stop because it hurt, he just forced himself on me like a feral animal. All my life-threatening sacrifices had been weighed and given a cheap price tag. Even his grand pursuit of me was nothing more than a calculated scheme to drain my family’s wealth and pay off his debts. My eyes were bloodshot. My throat felt like I had swallowed burning coals. Grayson noticed my devastated expression. He looked down at me with casual arrogance. “You don’t need to play the innocent victim, Amy. The only reason my parents are rotting in prison is because your parents bribed Tessa to plant the evidence. They wanted to force me to leave you.” “I know your elite family looks down on me. But the debt is settled now. Moving forward, you get me on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Tessa gets the rest. I’ll make sure it’s fair.” A massive wave of pure irony washed over me. I let out a dark sneer. Grayson had no idea. In the beginning, my parents actually tried to secretly fund his failing company. It was only when they uncovered the Rowland family’s illegal money laundering that they pulled their support. And yet, he used this fabricated grudge to mentally torture me for an entire year. I straightened my spine, slipping perfectly back into the untouchable posture of the Kensington heiress. “Your sense of fairness makes me sick to my stomach.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the flash drive my brother had just securely messaged me. It contained the undeniable proof of Tessa framing Grayson’s company. I slapped the small metal drive into his palm. “Everything you actually need to know is in there.” He didn’t even look at it. He let out a condescending scoff. “Amy, I already know the truth. Handing me fake files now just proves you’re terrified I’ll cut you off now that your parents don’t want you.” “Relax. As long as you don’t pick fights with Tessa, I’ll write thirty percent of my estate into your will.” Without a backward glance, he walked straight back to Tessa’s room. Through the wall, I heard the sickening sounds of their happy new family laughing together. I looked down at my phone. My flight to New York was booked for three days from now. The morning of my departure, I dressed impeccably. My family was hosting a massive welcome back gala at the Kensington estate to officially announce my return to high society. But the moment I stepped out of my cab, rough hands clamped over my mouth. I was violently dragged into the backseat of a tinted Rolls Royce. Grayson was sitting in the dark leather interior. Tessa was curled in his arms, weeping hysterically. Her clothes were torn, and there were fresh, shallow cuts on her arms. My heart dropped. Then Grayson’s venomous voice filled the car. “Amy, I was wondering why you were acting so quiet lately. Turns out you were busy crawling back to your mommy and daddy.” “You actually had them send an online mob after Tessa. She had a major depressive episode. She tried to jump off a building three times today!” “How much blood do you people need to draw from her?!” I stared blankly at Tessa. Beneath her fake tears, her eyes danced with malicious triumph. For a split second, my numb heart felt a sharp sting. I treated this woman as my soul sister, and she was actively trying to destroy my life. “What do you want from me?” I asked coldly. “At your welcome gala tonight, you are going to take the microphone and publicly expose your parents for cyberbullying and corporate terrorism.” My pupils shrank. My voice involuntarily spiked. “Are you insane? They are my family!” Grayson sneered. He threw a massive stack of manila folders aggressively into my face. “If you refuse, I will leak these documents to the press. They prove the Kensington Corporation committed massive tax fraud and forged federal stamps. Do you want your parents to die in federal prison?” “You only have one choice, Amy.” My knuckles turned white. The heavy fabricated evidence stung my cheeks. My teeth chattered with suppressed rage, but I closed my eyes and surrendered. “Fine. I’ll do it.” The gala was breathtaking. My parents were glowing with pure joy, holding my hands tightly, their eyes red with happy tears. “Amy, you finally grew up.” “As long as you’re home, sweetheart, everything we own is yours.” I couldn’t look them in the eye. Standing under the glittering chandeliers, surrounded by the most powerful elites in the country, I raised the microphone to my lips. My voice shook violently. “I… I have a confession to make.” The ballroom went dead silent. “I am reporting Richard and Margaret Kensington for severe corporate extortion, withholding employee wages, and orchestrating a malicious cyberbullying campaign against an innocent woman.” Every word felt like a knife dragging across my own throat. The crowd erupted in absolute chaos. My parents looked like they had been struck by lightning. My brother, Cole, turned pale with fury. With tears streaming down my face, I stepped off the stage, desperate to whisper an explanation to them. But Cole lunged forward, grabbing me by the collar. He roared in my face. “Amy, have you lost your fucking mind?! How dare you throw dirt on this family in front of the press?! Do you know you just ruined our entire legacy?!” I looked at him in sheer panic. I turned my head and saw the massive projector screen behind the stage displaying the fabricated tax fraud documents Grayson had blackmailed me with. My brain practically short-circuited. I shook my head wildly. “No… no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Grayson promised me!” Acting on pure instinct, I looked up toward the VIP balcony overlooking the ballroom. Grayson had Tessa pressed hard against the glass railing. They were completely naked, having sex right there in the shadows, watching my life burn to the ground. Tessa locked eyes with me through the glass. Her arrogant smirk said everything. You lost, Amy. I didn’t just take your man. I took your entire family. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs felt like they were literally going to explode. Cole shoved me to the ground, his eyes filled with absolute disgust. “You are a rabid dog, Amy. We never should have let you back in.” My world shattered. I tried to crawl toward my parents, but the paramedics were already rushing them out on stretchers. They had collapsed from the shock. The wealthy guests and corporate executives didn’t hold back. Someone threw a heavy cocktail glass at my head. Another splashed an entire bottle of red wine over my designer gown. A tidal wave of vicious insults crashed over me. “You cursed bitch! You ruined your own empire for a piece of trash boyfriend?!” “I feel so sick for her parents. Raising a monster like this!” “Brainless little slut!” I curled into a ball on the marble floor, trying to protect my head. But my defensive posture only seemed to enrage the mob further. High heels kicked my ribs. Hands grabbed my hair, dragging my bruised and bleeding body straight out the front doors and throwing me into the middle of the busy intersection. “Let’s teach this ungrateful bitch a lesson her parents couldn’t!” Cars swerved violently around my body. The sheer terror and trauma finally triggered my depression. I knelt on the asphalt, screaming and smashing my forehead into the pavement like a maniac. I didn’t stop until I saw Grayson’s sports car pull out of the valet line. He and Tessa drove right past me. Acting like a completely deranged lunatic, I screamed wildly, chasing their taillights down the avenue. By the time I stumbled into the hospital lobby, my bones felt like shattered glass. I barely made it to the third floor before four burly nurses ambushed me. They pinned my arms behind my back and dragged me forcefully into a blood-draw room. “Who are you?! Get your hands off me!” I shrieked. They ignored me, handing the fresh vials of my blood to Grayson, who was standing in the doorway. “The match is one hundred percent perfect, Mr. Rowland. We can proceed with the pediatric bone marrow extraction immediately.” Bone marrow extraction? A sickening, impossible thought clawed its way into my brain. I stumbled forward, grabbing Grayson by his expensive lapels. My eyes were bloodshot, practically glowing with madness. “Where is my daughter?!” He gently wiped a streak of dried blood from my cheek. “Amy, the doctor said our little girl won’t survive past her first birthday. Her heart is failing. But Tessa’s boy was just diagnosed with aggressive leukemia. Their bone marrow is a perfect match.” My scalp went completely numb. I stared at Grayson like he was a terrifying, alien monster. “You are going to harvest my daughter’s organs to save your bastard son?!” “Over my dead body!” I shoved him away and sprinted toward the surgical wing. But a sharp prick pierced the back of my neck. Grayson looked down at me with cold, detached pity as he pushed the plunger of a heavy sedative syringe. “Amy, we can always make another baby.” Black spots danced in my vision. Pure, suffocating terror wrapped around my throat like a venomous snake. I collapsed onto the cold floor. When I woke up, Tessa was standing over my bed. Her eyes were gleaming with pure malice. She tossed a small gold locket onto my chest. “You really are pathetic, Amy. You couldn’t even save your own brat.” “Honestly? My son never even had leukemia. But he is going to be the sole heir to the Rowland empire. Your little mistake had to be erased.” My pupils violently dilated. A primal scream tore from my throat. I grabbed the heavy surgical scalpel off the medical tray next to the bed and lunged straight for her throat. In a flash, Grayson tackled me from the side. “Amy! I told you not to touch her!” I stared at him in stunned silence. As we fell, the blade missed Tessa completely. Instead, Grayson’s momentum drove the handle hard against my chest, burying the blade deep into my own stomach. Hot, dark blood sprayed violently across Grayson’s face. His pupils trembled with sudden horror. Blood bubbled from my lips. I used the absolute last ounce of my strength to let out a weak, mocking laugh. “Grayson… you are so fucking stupid.” “You’re so blind… you don’t even know Tessa is the one who put your parents behind bars.” “You’re so stupid… you don’t even know your son was never sick.” Seeing my eyes slowly roll back into my head, Grayson froze completely. Total panic finally shattered his arrogant mask.

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My wife and I had been married for three years. After desperately trying, we finally learned we were expecting twins. Overjoyed, I was about to share the news when I found an appointment slip for an abortion clinic hidden in her drawer. Confronted, she broke down crying and confessed: Mr. Shaw, an uncle-like figure, was dying of cancer, and his only wish was for his son Tristan to continue the family line. I pleaded with her not to end the pregnancy. Even friends and family tried to reason with her. But she stubbornly insisted, asking if I could let an old man die with regrets. She accused me of controlling her body and reminded me how her family had supported me all these years. Seeing her self-righteous expression, my heart broke. The face I once loved now felt cold and strange. As a last compromise, I offered to let her keep our twins and later be a surrogate for Tristan through IVF. In response, she removed her wedding ring, dropped it on the table, and said she owed Tristan—who’d once saved her life—too much to let his family die out. She stated she wasn’t asking for my permission, only informing me. My fists slowly unclenched, my palms marked with bloody crescents from my nails. In that moment, all my love for her vanished. I looked her in the eye and said, “I want a divorce.” 1 The entire room froze. Serena stopped dead in the doorway. She turned around slowly, her eyes wide with absolute disbelief. “What did you just say? Divorce?” Before I could even open my mouth to reply, my father stormed across the room. He raised his hand and delivered a stinging slap across my jaw. “Can’t you talk things out like an adult? Throwing the word divorce around like that, are you even a man?” The relatives rushed forward to hold back my furious father. A swarm of buzzing voices filled my ears, everyone telling me to calm down and compromise. Serena frowned, looking at me with pure irritation. “Rowan, you are thirty two years old. Why are you acting like a petulant child?” “Tristan is six years younger than you, yet he thinks about the bigger picture. This IVF decision was made after careful consideration.” “Tristan already promised. Once he fulfills his father’s dying wish, he will give the child to us. You can be the father. Tristan is perfectly willing to help us raise this baby without any complaints.” Serena listed her reasons with absolute entitlement, her tone dripping with disappointment at my supposed narrow mindedness. Her words hit me like a tidal wave of pure agony. So I didn’t deserve my own flesh and blood. Raising another man’s child was supposed to be a gracious charity bestowed upon me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Ten years ago, I was the target of vicious bullying in college. Serena, our class president, was the one who stood up for me. She stood at the podium, fiercely ripping into those rich kids, exposing their fake generational wealth. After that, she used study groups and tutoring sessions as an excuse to slip me generous amounts of cash to help me survive. Back then, she was the sun breaking through my dark clouds. She was the only reason I managed to graduate. I thought we were just intersecting lines, destined to drift apart after college. But the year we graduated, the Lockwood family was hit with a massive smuggling scandal. All their assets were frozen, and Serena’s father died mysteriously in prison. Serena was left with a mountain of debt, chased and beaten by loan sharks. Without a second thought, I abandoned my corporate job offer at a Fortune 500 company to stay by her side. We spent three grueling years digging up evidence to prove a corrupt vice president had framed her father. We spent another seven years rebuilding Lockwood Enterprises from the ground up. I swallowed my pride. I begged former tech leads to return. I drank myself into the hospital at business dinners just to secure the contracts that kept her company afloat. Back when the loan sharks cornered us in an alley, I used my own body as a human shield for her. They broke three of my ribs and delivered a brutal beating that permanently damaged my fertility. When the doctors delivered the devastating news, Serena held me and wept bitterly. She swore she would never leave me. I refused to give up. Once the company stabilized, I underwent years of agonizing medical treatments. Three years ago, the doctors finally told me my condition had improved. We started trying for a baby. The day we found out she was pregnant with twins, I stayed awake all night, holding her in my arms, crying tears of absolute joy. Now, looking at the cold determination in her eyes, my gaze drifted down to her stomach. The memories of our happiest moments twisted into a poisoned blade, plunging directly into the softest part of my heart. I opened my mouth to speak, only realizing then that my face was drenched in tears. My voice came out as a broken rasp. “Serena, I waited ten years for those babies. How can you be so utterly heartless?” Seeing my devastation, a brief flicker of guilt crossed her face. “I am sorry, Rowan. But I have to do this for Tristan. I can’t let him live with this regret forever.” “Besides, your genetics aren’t exactly perfect anymore. Even if I carried these twins to term, they might have health issues.” “Tristan is young and athletic. If I give birth to a highly intelligent, healthy baby, you will get to raise a superior son.” I let out a hollow, agonizing laugh. “Serena. So in your eyes, I am just a cripple. And my children would just be cripples too.” “If this was really just about giving him a child, we could have paid a surrogate. Why did you have to kill my babies? Are you deliberately trying to humiliate me?” Serena’s face flushed crimson. Her voice pitched into a defensive shriek. “Rowan, how can you say something so disgusting? Tristan’s child isn’t something just anyone is worthy of carrying!” “I told you, this is strictly a favor for Tristan! When I am on that operating table, I will be thinking of you!” The relatives in the room awkwardly turned their heads, coughing into their hands. One by one, they muttered weak excuses and shuffled out the front door. “Rowan, I know you are upset, but Serena is thinking about the future. A superior baby will eventually take over Lockwood Enterprises. Just think it over.” With that final piece of unsolicited advice, the door clicked shut. I collapsed onto the sofa, letting the suffocating darkness swallow me whole. Later that afternoon, a mutual friend texted me an update. Serena had gone to the clinic. Tristan was tenderly supporting her as she walked out of the recovery room. He was spoon feeding her hot chicken soup. Serena leaned happily against his chest, her face pale but glowing with contentment as she sipped from the spoon. The attached photo of the finalized abortion paperwork burned my eyes. My heart plummeted into an absolute, freezing void. I had endured years of mockery and swallowed endless suffering to protect her, but in the end, I couldn’t even protect my own unborn children. My soul felt entirely hollow. I pulled out my phone and made a single call. “Mr. Caldwell. I accept your offer to head the overseas expansion. I am leaving, and I am never coming back.” I packed a single suitcase, printed the divorce papers, and drove straight to the hospital. When I pushed the door open, Tristan was lounging on the hospital bed, holding Serena in his arms. Their bright smiles instantly vanished. I felt no rage. I felt no need to scream. I simply walked over and handed the divorce agreement to Serena. “Sign it.” Serena’s hands trembled. She stared at the bold letters at the top of the page, her eyes slowly pooling with tears. “Rowan, are you actually serious?” Her shock quickly melted into defensive anger. “We built an empire together over the last ten years, and you are throwing it away like a joke? Why can’t you just try to understand me?” She ripped the papers into shreds and threw the confetti violently into my face. I watched with dead eyes as the tears spilled down her cheeks. She buried her face into Tristan’s chest, sobbing like she was the victim. “You have no conscience, Rowan! I elevated you from a penniless loser to the Vice President of my company. I gave you all my love, and you want to abandon me?” “Am I really less important to you than a fetus? Was everything you ever promised me a lie?” I looked at her and smiled a cold, chilling smile. The principled, bright girl I fell in love with was completely gone. I noticed her eyes constantly darting toward me. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was waiting for me to cave. She was waiting for me to comfort her. In the past, the second she frowned, I would blame myself for failing to protect her and do whatever it took to make her smile again. This time, I just calmly reached into my briefcase, pulled out a second copy of the divorce agreement, and placed it on her lap. “Sign it.” Serena completely lost her mind. Tears streamed down her face as she screamed. “You bastard! Are you trying to drive me to my death?!” Before I could react, Tristan lunged off the bed. He swung his fist, catching me right on the cheekbone. “You piece of trash! How dare you treat Serena like this? You are a pathetic cripple living off her charity. You have no right to demand a divorce!” “Serena fed you, clothed you, and gave you a life of luxury. You ungrateful parasite!” I crashed hard onto the linoleum floor. Tristan scrambled on top of me, grabbing my hair and delivering vicious slaps across my face. He pounded his fists into my skull. Blood poured from my nose and mouth. My vision swam with a violent red haze. Through the blinding pain, my hand brushed against the leg of a metal stool. I grabbed it and swung it blindly into Tristan’s head. He let out a pathetic yelp, clutching his bleeding scalp as he rolled onto the floor. I forced myself up, preparing to kick him away. Suddenly, a heavy metal food tray slammed directly into the side of my head. The world spun. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Serena’s furious scream. “Rowan! You are a monster! How could you hit him?!” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Serena shoved me aside. Completely ignoring her own post operative weakness, she dropped to her knees and pulled Tristan into her arms. “Tristan, are you okay? Are you dizzy? Let me get the doctor.” She helped him up and practically carried him out the door. She didn’t look back at me once. I swayed on my feet before my vision faded to black. I woke up to the sharp sting of a needle. An emergency room doctor was injecting local anesthesia into my scalp. “Sir, you took a severe beating to the head. I am stitching the lacerations now, but you need an immediate CT scan.” I shook my head, refusing the scan. The doctor immediately lost his temper. “You are too young to be throwing your life away. You have five deep lacerations on your skull. If you have internal bleeding, you will be dead before you can regret it.” He shoved the imaging requisition forms into my hand. Defeated, I took the papers and walked toward the radiology department. Just as I reached the waiting area, Serena walked out of the double doors, holding Tristan up. The moment she saw me, her face contorted with rage. She marched over and slapped me across the face. “Rowan, you make me sick.” “I just had surgery, and you show up to my room demanding a divorce. Tristan was just trying to protect me, and you smashed a stool into his head.” “As my husband, you refused to take care of me, and you tried to murder the man who did. Do you want me to die?!” The patients and family members waiting in the hallway immediately turned their attention to us. Hearing Serena’s dramatic accusations, the crowd began whispering fiercely, shooting me looks of pure disgust. “Wow, what a piece of work. Refusing to take care of his wife after a miscarriage, and throwing a tantrum when someone else does. If he was my husband, I would put him in the ground.” “He deserves worse. Beating people up in a hospital? Call the cops. Throw this psycho behind bars.” Tristan leaned heavily against Serena’s shoulder, playing the frail victim perfectly. “Serena, I feel dizzy. Please don’t be mad at him on my account.” “He just wanted to use those babies to secure his control over Lockwood Enterprises. That’s the only reason he cared so much about those defective kids.” My blood boiled over. I threw my medical papers aside and drove my fist straight into Tristan’s chest. “You son of a bitch. Say the word defective one more time.” My heart physically ached. Those poor, innocent babies I had prayed for every single night. They were gone. And they were never defective. Tristan collapsed onto the floor, his eyes rolling back into his head. Serena let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Tristan! What is happening?! Don’t scare me!” She glared up at me, her eyes bloodshot with hatred. “Rowan! If he dies, I swear to God I will end you!” The crowd was fully riled up now. “This is assault! He is completely unhinged!” “Call the police right now! Keep this animal away from society!” A flicker of hesitation crossed Serena’s eyes as she looked down at Tristan. Right on cue, Tristan dramatically fluttered his eyes open. He let out a weak, theatrical cough. “Serena, you just had surgery. Please don’t stress yourself out. I can take a few punches.” He looked up at me with fake terror. “Rowan, it is all my fault. I apologize. Please, just promise you won’t beat me every time you see me.” “If you kill me, it will ruin Serena’s reputation.” Serena’s expression hardened into absolute stone. She gritted her teeth. “Rowan, I have spoiled you for far too long. I let you forget your place. It is time you learned a lesson.” She pulled out her phone and dialed the police. The cops arrived in minutes. Tristan was still clinging to Serena, gasping for air. “We got a call about a public assault. Who is the aggressor?” Serena straightened her back, pointing an accusing finger right at my chest. “Officers, it is him. He brutally attacked my friend unprovoked. Please arrest him.” She looked like a righteous hero fighting against absolute evil. The crowd eagerly chimed in, serving as her witnesses. “We saw everything! His wife lost her baby, and he showed up to cause a scene and put her friend in the hospital.” “Lock him up, officer! Men like that are a danger to society.” I had no defense. My words meant nothing against a dozen witnesses. I just stared at Serena with hollow, dead eyes as the officer locked the cold steel cuffs around my wrists. An hour later, we were sitting in an interrogation room at the precinct. I calmly explained the entire situation to the detective. I told him Tristan threw the first punch. The detective looked at me with deep sympathy, but he sighed heavily. “I hear you, man. But regardless of the history, you hitting him in the hallway is caught on camera. Abortion and infidelity are moral issues. Assault is a felony.” Tristan sat across the room, holding an ice pack to his head. “Officer, let us just drop it. A verbal warning is fine. I don’t want to press charges.” Serena immediately slammed her hand on the table. “Absolutely not! Officer, you must press charges. He needs to serve jail time. If he doesn’t learn his lesson, he will only get more violent.” The detective looked at Serena, clearly bewildered by her venom. “Ms. Lockwood. Rowan is your legal husband. If you push this, he will go to prison. He will have a permanent criminal record. It will ruin his life. Are you absolutely certain?” Serena kept her chin high, her eyes freezing cold. “I am certain. Unless he gets on his knees, apologizes to Tristan, and swears he will never lay a hand on him again.” I looked at her unwavering conviction and actually let out a laugh. “Serena. You want me to get on my knees and apologize to the man sleeping with my wife?” Serena slammed the table again. “Watch your mouth! Tristan is not a homewrecker! You are projecting your own filthy thoughts onto innocent people. He is my savior’s son. He is family.” I kept smiling, a cold, bitter smile. “Stop pretending, Serena. I am not an idiot. The way you look at him says it all.” “I am not apologizing. I did not betray our marriage. You did.” Serena went dead silent for a moment. “Fine. Then enjoy your time in a prison cell.” A younger officer grabbed my arm and pulled me out into the hallway. “Mr. Davies. I worked security at your charity gala last year. I know you are a good man, and I know you are getting screwed here. But you can’t let your pride ruin your life. If you don’t settle this, you are going to federal prison.” He leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Listen to me. That pretty boy in there has connections. If you go inside, he will make sure you don’t come out breathing. Think about it.” A chill ran down my spine. Tristan was absolutely capable of arranging an accident behind bars. And with Serena protecting him, no one would ever investigate my death. I took a deep breath, swallowed the last shred of my dignity, and walked back into the room. I lowered my head. Before I could even speak, Serena crossed her arms. “If you want to prove you are actually sorry, kneel. Bow your head and swear that if you ever target Tristan again, you will die a miserable death.” A physical pain sliced through my chest. I stared at her, completely stunned. For the sake of another man, she was forcing her husband to kneel and curse his own life. Time seemed to stand still. Tristan leaned against Serena’s shoulder, shooting me a look of triumphant mockery. The sympathetic officer nudged my shoulder. “A real man knows when to bow his head. Just say it.” Gritting my teeth until I tasted blood, I forced the words out, syllable by syllable. “I am sorry. It was my fault. I swear I will never lay a hand on Tristan Shaw again. If I break this promise, may I die a miserable death.” A satisfied smile spread across Serena’s face. “Rowan, I knew you wouldn’t make things difficult. Realizing your mistakes is the first step.” “Go back to the office. I am taking Tristan to get a full MRI. I will be staying at the hospital for a few days to monitor his concussion. Handle any corporate emergencies while I am gone.” She linked her arm through Tristan’s and confidently walked out the door. Once I was outside the precinct, my phone vibrated. “Mr. Davies. The tickets to Munich are booked. We fly out tonight.” “Good. Have the car pick me up at eight. I have one condition. I am taking my entire tech team with me.” “Done. I will arrange a larger private jet. You dictate their salaries. Whatever they need, give it to them.” Before leaving the city, I stopped by the hospital. Tristan was standing guard outside the VIP suite, refusing to let me in. I calmly handed him a manila folder containing the divorce papers. “Tristan. Tell her it is an urgent corporate contract. I know you will make sure she signs it.” Tristan gave me a sly grin. “Wait at the end of the hall.” Ten minutes later, he strutted down the corridor, aggressively tossing the folder into my chest. “Rowan, now that you are legally dumped, stay the hell away from her. I don’t share. If you ever try to contact Serena again, I have a hundred ways to make you disappear.” He glanced down at my battered knees with absolute contempt. I just smiled faintly. I opened the folder and saw Serena’s elegant signature on the dotted line. Just as I suspected. Tristan held so much power over her that my three years of begging for a divorce was eclipsed by ten minutes of his manipulation. An hour later, I had the expedited divorce certificate in my hand. I left her copy on the coffee table in our empty mansion. At exactly eight o’clock, I boarded a private jet with my loyal engineers, leaving the country behind. As the city lights faded beneath the clouds, I looked out the window. Serena. Every debt I owed you is paid in full. We will never see each other again.

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Returning from a London business trip, I froze at the sight in my living room. My best friend Harper was lounging on my sofa while my boyfriend Sebastian carefully cracked snow crab legs, placing the meat in her bowl. His eyes held a deep, sweet adoration I had never seen him give me. It reminded me of three months ago, when Harper’s cheating ex left her with no alimony. I immediately moved her in, took her on trips, stayed up comforting her, and gave her an unlimited credit card. Whatever it took to make her smile, I did. Sebastian had frowned and complained back then. He mocked her for taking Uber Black everywhere, wearing dresses once before discarding them, and needing her seafood shells cracked. He criticized her for eating only the heart of a watermelon and the tips of strawberries. He even asked if I was her lapdog, saying someone so high maintenance deserved to be left. That was the first time I truly lost my temper with him. I told him Harper was my dearest friend and had always been there for me. I begged him to be patient, if only for my sake. Soon after, I left for London. I video called Harper every day, watching her gradually step out of the shadows. She began job hunting and planning her new life. I really thought everything was getting better. 1 A suffocating, dead silence filled the living room. The only sound was the canned laughter of a reality TV show playing on the flat screen. Harper was the first to react. She scrambled off the sofa, her face draining of all color as she stumbled toward me. “Stella… when did you get back? Why didn’t you text? We… I would have picked you up.” Sebastian stood quietly behind her. He didn’t say a single word. Harper forced a rigid, trembling smile. “You must be exhausted from the flight. Let me get you some water.” She spun around in a blind panic, grabbing a glass from the coffee table. Her hands shook so violently she knocked over the heavy glass pitcher, sending water spilling all over the expensive rug. Sebastian frowned. He immediately grabbed a handful of napkins and knelt to clean up the mess. “Stop trying to help. You don’t know how to do these things.” His tone sounded like a scolding, but the profound, effortless intimacy wrapped in his words was undeniable. The very last shred of naive hope in my chest disintegrated into ash. My grip on my suitcase handle tightened until the leather dug a painful trench into my palm. “When did this start?” Harper froze. She instinctively turned around to look at Sebastian. His expression remained completely stoic. He reached out with a long arm, pulling her safely behind his back. “This has nothing to do with her. It is all on me.” His voice was perfectly level. He sounded like he was discussing the weather. Sebastian was naturally aloof. In the corporate world, he was known for being a cold, ruthless shark. People always whispered that he was completely unapproachable, and that Stella was the only person who could ever pull a real emotion out of him. I used to believe I was his one and only exception. Until this exact second. He was standing on the opposite side of the battlefield, using his trademark coldness to completely sever me from his life. Harper looked frantic. “No… Stella, please listen to me. Let me explain, we aren’t…” I stood rooted to the spot, watching her stammer helplessly, unable to string a single coherent sentence together. A bitter, self-deprecating laugh slipped past my lips. “Can you really not even invent a decent lie to feed me right now?” Harper turned deathly pale. Sebastian firmly grabbed her trembling hands, his voice dropping into a low, soothing register. “Breathe. Let me handle this, okay?” He stepped forward and reached for my suitcase. “Stella, let us step outside to talk.” I stared at his face. Three months. That was all it took for the man I loved to become a complete stranger. I bit the inside of my cheek to fight back the burning tears. My voice wavered. “Sebastian, this is my house. You are asking me to leave?” He paused for a fraction of a second. A hint of pleading crept into his tone. “Stella, please. Do me this favor. She caught a chill yesterday and she is fighting a cold. Let her get to bed early, alright?” I pressed a hand hard against my chest. There was no physical wound, but the agony was so severe I felt like I was bleeding out. Sebastian picked up his designer coat from the back of the dining chair. He turned to Harper, his voice dripping with gentle concern. “Be a good girl and go to sleep. Leave the rest to me. I will stop by the deli on Pearl Avenue and bring you that creamy crab bisque you love on my way back.” I threw the front door open and practically ran out of the house. I couldn’t let them see the pathetic, humiliating tears streaming down my face. Inside a sterile hotel suite an hour later. Sebastian sat on the sofa furthest away from me, maintaining a polite, icy distance. He smoked two cigarettes in total silence before finally speaking. “I take full responsibility. Ask for whatever compensation you want. I will write the check.” “I was the one who caught feelings first. Don’t blame her.” I dug my fingernails mercilessly into my own skin. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Why?” Sebastian lit a third cigarette. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “Stella, you are brilliant. You are calculating, and you are entirely self-sufficient. But Harper is different. If I leave her, she will literally not survive.” Looking at his handsome face illuminated by the glowing cherry of his cigarette, I found the entire situation absolutely hilarious. A few months ago, Sebastian couldn’t stand the sight of my best friend. He called her a toxic drama queen, completely out of touch with reality. He said she was a useless parasite who only knew how to feed off other people’s bank accounts. When I was forced to take the London project three months ago, I practically had to beg him on my knees to occasionally check in on her. He had acted like a stubborn child back then, playfully biting my cheek. “Stella, I haven’t even put a ring on your finger yet, and you already have me doing your family chores. You are dumping a massive headache on my lap. You owe me big time for this.” I had stood on my tiptoes, kissing him softly, promising him that the second this London project wrapped up, we would finally get married. Three months. That was all it took for my entire universe to rot away. 2 Sebastian stood up. He pressed his lips together, his expression complicated. “I know I did you dirty. For the joint development projects we currently share, I will surrender twenty percent of my profits to you. If you ever need a favor in the industry, my door is open.” “But I have one demand. You mean the world to Harper. She does not want to lose you as a friend.” I looked up at him. It felt like I was listening to the punchline of a sick, twisted joke. I actually laughed so hard fresh tears spilled over my eyelashes. Three months ago, I used the exact same excuse to beg him to take care of my best friend. Three months later, I was the one being ordered to tolerate the betrayal so she wouldn’t feel guilty. My voice trembled with raw, unadulterated anger. “Sebastian, do you two honestly not realize how completely psychotic you sound right now?” “What makes you think I deserve to be treated like garbage? I am going to expose every single filthy thing you both did. If you have the guts to screw my best friend, you better have the guts to own it in public.” Sebastian took a step back. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Stella, stop throwing a tantrum. You built your company from the ground up. You crawled through hell to get where you are. Do not ruin your own career over a petty emotional outburst.” The thinly veiled threat in his voice sent a violent chill down my spine. He stood tall, looking down at me with the absolute arrogance of an apex predator. People always told me Sebastian was ruthless and completely devoid of human empathy. I always defended him. Now, staring into his cold eyes, I realized the rumors were perfectly accurate. He just used to reserve all his warmth for me. Now, he was giving it to someone else. “I am heading back. If I am gone too long, she won’t be able to sleep.” “I will pack her things and move her out tomorrow. Sorry to make you sleep in a hotel tonight.” The heavy hotel door clicked shut. I finally collapsed onto the pillows, screaming and crying until my lungs burned. Outside the window, the city lights glittered like diamonds. I had flown thousands of miles, completely exhausted, desperate to sleep in my own bed. Instead, I was discarded in a freezing hotel room. Just a few blocks away, the two most important people in my entire life were tangled in my sheets, sleeping in my bed. It was pure, suffocating irony. The next morning, I put on a pair of oversized sunglasses to hide my swollen eyes. I parked my car outside a trendy artisan bakery downtown. Harper was wearing a cute pastel apron. When she saw me walk through the door, her eyes lit up with hope for a split second, but she quickly lowered her head in shame. She brought a cup of black coffee to my table and sat across from me. She forced a pathetic smile, her voice timid and careful. “Stella, I know you are furious with me. I am so sorry. I know you treated me better than anyone. I owe you my life…” “But look at me now! I have a real job. I promise I will pay you back every single cent I owe you…” I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. I stared at her. She was working as a junior baker, yet she was wearing a Cartier necklace that cost more than this entire storefront. “Pay me back? On a baker’s minimum wage?” Harper flinched. She had married rich right out of college and spent years living as a pampered housewife. Her ex-husband treated her like a princess, catering to her every insane demand. Combined with my unconditional, protective friendship, Harper had cruised through life on easy mode. Until six months ago, when her husband was caught sleeping with his secretary. Within two months, his lawyers legally butchered her. She was kicked to the curb with zero assets. If I hadn’t swooped in to rescue her, she would have literally starved on the streets. She claimed she wanted a fresh start. But after years of being completely detached from the real world, she couldn’t handle a normal corporate job. Because she used to bake cupcakes for fun in her massive suburban kitchen, she somehow landed a job at this high-end bakery. I didn’t say a word. I just raised my hand. The bakery manager immediately rushed over, bowing respectfully. “Ms. Davis, it is an honor to have you visit.” All the blood drained from Harper’s face. Her eyes widened in absolute horror. I took off my sunglasses, my voice dead and hollow. “After your divorce, you were suicidal. You finally told me you wanted a job to feel normal again.” “Harper, you are not stupid. Did you really never wonder why every single place rejected you, but this specific elite bakery miraculously hired a woman with zero professional culinary experience?” “I gave you my entire heart. I funded your life. And this is how you repay me?” Harper’s eyelashes fluttered wildly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice shook violently. “I didn’t know… Stella, I swear I didn’t know…” She lunged across the table, desperately grabbing my hands. “But he is so good to me! He actually loves me! Stella, you are a powerhouse. You are successful, you are beautiful, you can survive without anyone. But I can’t.” “You always told me you would share anything you had with me. I don’t want your money anymore. I just want him. Please, Stella, let me have him.” I sat perfectly still, staring at the woman I had known since we were three years old. A quarter of a century of sisterhood had mutated into something absolutely grotesque. “Growing up, I gave you anything you ever asked for.” “But Harper, taking what isn’t yours behind my back… that makes you a thief.” 3 When Sebastian stormed into the bakery, he found Harper practically kneeling at my feet, sobbing hysterically. His expression turned lethal. He closed the distance in three massive strides, violently pulling her up and shoving her safely behind him. He glared at me, his jaw clenched tight enough to shatter teeth. “Stella, I told you to come at me. Stop terrorizing her.” “Add up every single dollar she spent on your credit cards. Give me the final number, and I will wire it to your account right now.” I looked at him, letting out a barrage of cold, bitter laughter. “Wow. It must be nice to throw your money around, Sebastian. But the debt you two owe me can’t be paid off in this lifetime.” Sebastian’s eyes darkened. He opened his mouth to fire back a vicious insult. Suddenly, Harper screamed at the top of her lungs. “Enough!” Her entire body was shaking, but she forced herself to look me in the eye. “Stella, this is what you owe me. I don’t care if you resent me or hate my guts. I am not letting him go. From this day forward, our friendship is officially dead. We are even.” She ripped off her pastel apron, grabbed Sebastian’s hand, and dragged him toward the door. They walked out without looking back. I sat alone by the window. Outside on the sidewalk, two teenage girls in high school uniforms were laughing brightly, sharing a single ice cream cone. I felt something cold drop onto my hand. I reached up and realized my face was completely soaked with tears. Harper and I had known each other since preschool. We were inseparable through elementary, middle, high school, and college. As far back as I could remember, my parents did nothing but scream and throw things at each other. They only stayed married because neither of them wanted the burden of keeping a child. Every time they destroyed our living room in a screaming match, Harper would quietly slip through the front door. She would help me sweep up the broken glass, grab my hand, and drag me to her house for dinner. The year we graduated high school, Harper secretly pawned her grandmother’s vintage gold locket to pay my college tuition. I remember her licking an ice cream cone, acting like it was no big deal. “Hey, my grades are garbage anyway. But you are a genius. It would be a crime if you didn’t go to a top university.” “Stop crying, Stella. I know you are going to be a massive CEO one day. When you strike it rich, just buy me ten Cartier bracelets to make up for it.” In the dark, lonely years of my youth, Harper was my very first hero. She was the most important piece of my soul. By the time I drove back to my house, every trace of them had been scrubbed clean. I stood in the center of the massive, empty living room, feeling completely untethered. When I first bought this multi-million dollar property, I specifically reserved a master guest suite entirely for Harper. Sebastian had been incredibly annoyed about it. I just smiled at him and told him it was a promise I made a long time ago. At Harper’s wedding, I was her Maid of Honor. When I caught the bouquet, I hugged her tight and swore that as long as I was breathing, she would always have a home with me. Now, I was the one left without a home. The house was still haunted by the things Sebastian left behind. Our framed certificates from university business competitions. Photos from our vacations to the Amalfi Coast. His toothbrush sitting in the master bathroom. The cashmere blanket he left tangled on the sofa, and a half-read novel resting on the coffee table. Every time I closed my eyes, my brain forced me to visualize the two of them rolling around together on that very sofa. I slapped a hand over my mouth, sprinting to the bathroom sink. I dry-heaved violently until my throat bled, feeling like I needed to vomit my own organs out to feel clean again. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. I looked haggard and completely unrecognizable. Sebastian was my senior in college. We were partners in the national startup championship. The night he confessed his feelings to me, his usually icy face was flushed red. “Stella, you are the most brilliant, resilient woman I have ever met. Please give me the honor of taking care of you.” After graduation, I gained experience at a tech giant before catching a market trend and launching my own firm. Sebastian was my rock. He guided me through the darkest days of the startup grind. He was my partner in battle, and the love of my life. Because of him, I actually started healing from my childhood trauma. I started believing that I could actually build a healthy family. I truly planned to spend the rest of my life with him. I stared into the mirror, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. They were the reasons I wanted to live. They were the ultimate goals of all my blood, sweat, and tears. And they rewarded me by driving a knife directly into my spine. Why should they get away with this? I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in a very long time. 4 Three days after I made that phone call, Sebastian barged into my executive office. He slammed the heavy glass door so hard the walls vibrated. “Stella, did you call Harper’s parents?!” “Her mother called her last night and screamed at her for a solid hour! She called Harper an ungrateful snake and said she was dead to the family! Harper cried so hard she almost passed out. Are you happy now?!” I let out a sharp laugh. “If you two had the guts to do it, why are you so terrified of people finding out?” But beneath my cold exterior, a sharp ache hit my chest. I never forgot how kind the Davis family was to me when I was a neglected kid. When my company took off, I repaid their kindness ten times over. I bought them cars and paid for their luxury vacations. Mrs. Davis had called me in tears, apologizing profusely for her daughter’s sins. Yet the person who actually owed me an apology hadn’t offered a single word of remorse. Sebastian took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Stella, this is your absolute last warning. You are going to march over there and apologize to Harper right now. If you do, I will pretend this entire incident never happened.” I looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Apologize? I am pretty sure I am the last person in this room who needs to apologize.” His face hardened into pure ice. “Starting today, I am permanently terminating all corporate partnerships with your firm. You are currently leading the Eastside Development project. The primary investors happen to be my people. You know perfectly well that without my backing, that project will implode.” “I am giving you three days to think this over. Stella, you have been a brilliant strategist your entire life. Do not commit professional suicide over petty jealousy.” Hearing his chilling ultimatum, the very last trace of affection I held for him vanished. When Sebastian loved someone, he would lay the entire world at their feet. But the second he turned on you, he was a merciless monster. He stayed true to his threat. Overnight, the Eastside investors pulled their funding. The project ground to a halt, and panic spread through my company like wildfire. But I refused to beg. Ten years ago, I was a broke orphan who bit down on my own tongue and clawed my way to the top of the food chain. Ten years later, I could easily carve a bloody path out of this mess on my own. A month later, I received a text from Harper. [Stella, Sebastian and I are getting married next month. You are the most important person in my life. I want your blessing. I know I betrayed you, but please, just this one last time. Can you forgive me?] I glanced at the message, locked my phone, and went back to my boardroom meeting. I didn’t reply. On the day of their wedding, I arrived exactly on time. Harper looked like a delicate little bird, clinging tightly to Sebastian’s arm. Her eyes were swimming with toxic, artificial sweetness. The moment they saw me walking down the aisle, the color drained from both of their faces. The crowded ballroom fell completely silent. My high-profile relationship with the ruthless Sebastian Lockwood was common knowledge in our elite circle. Yet somehow, within six months, the bride had miraculously changed. Sebastian instinctively stepped in front of Harper, staring at me with hyper-vigilant hostility. Harper looked at me, tears welling up in her eyes. “Stella… I…” I looked at the two of them and offered a bright, serene smile. “Relax. I promised you years ago that I would never miss the most important day of your life.” “I am just here to drop off my wedding gift.” Behind them, the massive screen playing their sickly sweet wedding montage suddenly went pitch black.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “428144”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel