My mother was dying, and only a costly surgery could save her. So I broke myself for three months to fund it. I clawed my way to top sales rep and seized the million-dollar bonus. But half an hour before her surgery, my bonus account read zero. I immediately called my boss-my boyfriend, Jake. He answered, voice lazy. “Chloe really wanted a vacation, so I took the money and chartered a private jet to Ibiza.” My body froze, then I screamed, my voice laced with panic. “That’s my bonus! My mom needs that money to save her life!” A beat of silence. Then Jake’s voice turned to ice. “It’s just a million bucks. Save your drama.You missed a day last month, so I’m writing it off as Chloe’s trip bonus.” I begged him to return the money. He just hung up on me. Watching the nurses cover my mom with a cold white sheet, I dug out the scam call I’d received that morning and dialed it back. “Ms. Maya, I’m so sorry for your loss.” The doctor placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice heavy. My hands trembled, watching in disbelief as the nurse wheeled my mom out. The doctor spoke with regret. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could. Ten minutes…just ten more minutes might have made all the difference.” I was holding my mother’s cold hand when my phone, silenced for hours, vibrated. Jake’s voice, bright and clear, spilled into the sterile silence of the room. “Chloe, meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you.” In the background, fireworks exploded in a distant celebration. I slumped to the floor. Losing my dearest loved one. Facing the deepest betrayal from the one I loved. The twin blows twisted in my chest like a thousand knives. The pain was unbearable. I don’t know how long I sat there before my phone rang again. Fumbling to stand, I accidentally answered. “This is the Food and Drug Administration. We have confirmed the presence of a prohibited contaminant in your product line. As a first-time violation, you may avoid immediate seizure by posting a fifty-million-dollar bond. Failure to comply will result in the closure of all associated facilities.” I glanced at the number and instantly recognized it as a scam call. I was about to hang up when the image of my mother on the operating table flashed before me. Because of Jake. Because of stolen money. I paused, wiped my face with a trembling hand, and made my voice sound carefully concerned. “Are you sure you have the right company? I’ll send you our product information and company details in a bit. Please double-check. If there’s really an issue, contact our company owner directly.” The person on the other end hummed in acknowledgment. “Alright, send over the company info as soon as possible so we can verify it.” There was so little credible information in their words; it was hard to believe them based on just a few sentences. But with detailed product information, it would sound much more convincing. I hung up, found the company’s product detail file on my phone, and sent it to them without hesitation. Afterward, I walked toward the morgue. I found my mom and sat beside her. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I was blind, I trusted the wrong person, and it cost you your life. I swear, I will make them pay.” Over the next three days, I handled my mom’s funeral. During this time, I received a message from Jake, asking me to contact the factory and our partners to verify if there were any product issues.

I hesitated for a few seconds before messaging Jake back. “The Food Safety Administration inspected a batch of products a few days ago. A few items failed, but we haven’t received instructions on how to handle it yet.” I was actually telling the truth. The Food Safety Administration had conducted a spot check a few days prior, but it was just minor packaging defects that had caused some food spoilage. A few minutes later, I saw Jake post a photo in the WhatsApp work group. It was quickly deleted. But I’d already seen it: Jake, kissing Chloe’s face. Immediately after, Jake sent a voice message. I tapped it, and it was Chloe’s voice. “Oops, I accidentally slipped! Jake’s so tired today, he’s already asleep. I’m just helping him handle some work.” I instantly realized Chloe was deliberately trying to provoke me. In the past, I might have torn my heart out, demanding to know why Jake betrayed me. But now, remembering my mom’s agonizing death on the operating table because of the delayed surgery, I wished I could rip Jake to shreds. She tagged Sarah, our accountant, asking her to transfer fifty million dollars to an account. A faint smile touched my lips. It looked like Jake had taken the bait. If only he’d asked me a few more questions or called the factory, he wouldn’t have believed it so easily. Over the next few days, I didn’t hear from Jake again. As soon as I arrived at my desk, Sarah rushed toward me. “Maya, can you reach Jake? A few days ago, Chloe told me to transfer fifty million dollars to an account, supposedly for the Food Safety Administration. But I have a bad feeling about this account, and it’s overseas. I wanted to ask Jake for clarification, but I haven’t been able to reach him.” I narrowed my eyes slightly and called Jake. An impatient voice sounded from behind me. “Maya, are you calling me all day just to ruin my mood?” I turned around to see Jake walking through the door, Chloe clinging to his arm, her eyes glinting with triumph as she looked at me. “Jake, don’t be so harsh, you might make Maya cry.” Jake looked at Chloe with doting affection. “Chloe, Maya was so mean to you before, yet you’re still looking out for her. If only she had an ounce of your kindness.” The other colleagues in the office looked at me strangely. Jake was my boyfriend, yet he was publicly putting me down for Chloe’s sake, essentially slapping me in the face. I suppressed the anger bubbling inside me and looked at Jake. “Chloe told Sarah to transfer fifty million to an account. Do you know about this?” Jake nodded. “Yes, I know.” I spoke, intentionally injecting a tone of reprimand. “That account is overseas, and it’s a high-risk account. It’s most likely a scammer. What was she thinking, telling our accountant to send money to a fraudster?” Chloe’s eyes immediately welled up, and she began to cry, sounding terribly wronged. “Maya, is this about Jake? Get over it. That account was an FSA bond-fifty million, fully refundable. They threatened to shut us down. I just secured a hundred-million-dollar project. Was I supposed to let it all go to waste?” Hearing this, Jake’s eyes turned cold, and he angrily rebuked me. “Maya, Chloe secured a hundred-million-dollar deal for the company, that’s why I took her on that trip. Can you stop being so petty and jealous, constantly targeting Chloe?”

Jake seemed determined to humiliate me. He turned to Sarah. “Just do what Chloe says. If there’s any problem, I’ll take full responsibility.” With that, he took Chloe’s hand and walked past me, leaving the office. Behind Jake, where he couldn’t see, the corner of my mouth turned up slightly. You said it yourself, Jake. I turned back to Sarah, smiling helplessly. “Jake said it himself. Just do what he says and transfer the money. Don’t want to hold up company progress, right?” Sarah still looked hesitant. “Maya, but that account is so suspicious! And how could the Food Safety Administration have an overseas account?” I shrugged and sighed. “You heard me try to persuade him just now. I can’t do anything more. If you don’t do it, Chloe will probably think we’re deliberately ganging up on her. And Jake listens to Chloe completely now.” Sarah was silent for a couple of seconds. “Fine. I’m just an employee. The boss has spoken, so what can I do?” Back at my desk, I looked at the photo of my mom, then at Jake’s office, my hands clenching into fists. Just then, someone tapped my shoulder. “Maya, are you still mad at Jake? It’s all my fault. I just really wanted to go to Ibiza, and Jake felt sorry for me, so he took me.” I didn’t want to see Chloe right now, so I started to get up to leave. But as soon as I stood, Chloe suddenly stumbled backward and fell. I frowned. I hadn’t even touched her. The next second, Jake rushed over and shoved me hard. My waist slammed into the desk, making me gasp in pain. Jake quickly helped Chloe up, pulling her into his arms, and looked at her with concern. “Chloe, are you okay?” Chloe’s eyes were red, her expression utterly pathetic. “Jake, Maya’s still angry because you used her bonus to take me on vacation. It’s all my fault, I was too impulsive, I shouldn’t have gone.” Jake shot me a warning look. “Let’s be clear, Maya. You missed three days last month. Your bonus was forfeited. Chloe, on the other hand, just landed a nine-figure deal. Rewarding performance is my job.” I was shaking with rage. I slapped Jake across the face. “Jake, for an entire year, I haven’t taken a single day off! The reason I took three days off last month was because I drank so much to secure your deal that I got stomach bleeding and was in the ER for a day and a night!” I then turned to Chloe. “That deal? I was the one who negotiated it! You just took advantage of me being in the hospital to sign it yourself. I didn’t even bother to call you out on it. How dare you have the nerve to try and steal my bonus?” Other colleagues looked over, whispering and pointing at Jake and Chloe. Jake, his pride wounded by my outburst, exploded in anger. “Maya, you’re already lazy, skipping work, and now you’re making up excuses? It’s obvious you stood the client up. If Chloe hadn’t stepped in to sign that deal, it would have collapsed entirely. Could you have shouldered the losses for the company? Instead of thanking her, you have the audacity to twist the truth. How did I ever end up with such an unreasonable girlfriend?” Jake’s twisted words made my chest ache. I truly hated myself for being so blind, for ever falling for such a despicable bastard like Jake. “Jake, we’re over.” Then I picked up the resignation letter I had already prepared from my desk and threw it in Jake’s face. “I quit. And I demand you return my bonus, or I’ll see you in court.”

Jake’s eyes widened, staring at me in disbelief. “Maya, you’ll regret this! Who else would ever want you besides me?” Chloe looked at me, a defiant smirk on her face. “Maya, don’t be so impulsive! Jake’s company is about to go public. So many women would kill to be with him!” I looked at Chloe. “In that case, I’ll give him to you. You two can be together, for all I care.” With that, I picked up the things I’d already packed and turned to leave. As I reached the door, I heard Jake kick a desk and angrily curse. “Maya, when you regret this and come crawling back to me, crying, I won’t want you then!” After arriving home, I lay down on my bed for a short rest. My phone rang beside me. “Hello, is this Ms. Maya?” I hummed in affirmation. “This is the Food Safety Administration calling. Congratulations, you’ve passed the final interview and can begin your appointment within the month.” Hearing this, I suddenly remembered. My mom had always wanted me to pursue a stable job. When she was gravely ill, I’d just casually applied to the Food Safety Administration, never expecting to pass the interview. Now, I was jobless after quitting. I looked at my mom’s framed photo. “Mom, thank you. You helped me again.” I arranged to start work in three days. Over the next three days, after handing over my work at Jake’s company, I went to work at the Food Safety Administration. A month into my job, we received a report of food poisoning. I looked at the files. Coincidentally, it was the chocolate produced by Jake’s company. I accompanied my superior, Mr. Harrison, to Jake’s factory. We collected ten samples for testing. An hour later, the results were in: the product contained excessive amounts of flavor enhancers, posing significant harm to human health. And, coincidentally, one of the victims of the poisoning was Mr. Harrison’s daughter. Upon learning this, he immediately ordered Jake’s company to be shut down for a full investigation and fined thirty million dollars. Mr. Harrison then instructed me to lead the team to seal Jake’s company. I arrived at Jake’s company entrance just as he and Chloe were getting out of a car, arm-in-arm. Seeing me, Jake wore a condescending, triumphant smirk. “Maya, I knew you’d regret it and come begging! But our company is full now. If you want to come back, you’ll have to be a cleaner, and I’ll pay you a thousand dollars a month.” I rolled my eyes at Jake. Then I pulled out the official notice and plastered it on his company door. “Your company’s products have violated food safety regulations. Your company is now being shut down for a full inspection of all products and fined thirty million dollars.” Jake heard my words, unfazed, and scoffed mockingly. “Maya, did you go crazy after breaking up with me?” I pulled out the ID badge from around my neck. My colleagues behind me also stepped forward. “Please cooperate with our work.” Only then did Jake realize this wasn’t a joke. He looked at Chloe. “You must be mistaken! We just paid the Food Safety Administration a fifty-million-dollar deposit a month ago!” Another one of my colleagues spoke up, sounding exasperated. “The Food Safety Administration never charges anything called a ‘deposit’.” Jake’s face went pale. “That’s impossible! We transferred fifty million!” Chloe’s hands shook as she redialed the number. A pre-recorded, robotic message filled the air: “The number you have dialed is not in service.” Panic rising, Jake shoved the transfer receipt at my colleague. “This is your official account! I wired the money here!” My colleague took one glance. “Sir, this is not our account. It’s registered overseas. This is a classic wire fraud scheme.” Jake froze, stunned.

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My mom, Eleanor, showed up still in her cleaner’s uniform after a front-line rotation. My boyfriend, Derek, took one look and lost it. “Anya, You told me your mom was a high-powered executive. So what’s with the janitor getup?” I was about to explain, but Mom grabbed my hand. “There is dignity in all honest work, Derek.” Derek rolled his eyes and dumped me. The next day, he gave my promotion to the new intern, Chloe. When I cornered him in his office, he sneered. “Fairness? I dated you because I thought your family had connections. Now I find out your mom mops floors? You think you still belong here?” “I’ll report you for this.”I warned. He tossed the intern’s resume onto my desk. “Report me? Her father is the Chairman. I suggest you quit.” I froze. My mom founded this company. A new Chairman. A sister I never knew. How? Seeing me frozen, Derek mistook it for fear. His tone softened to a mockery of sympathy. “Anya, you need to accept your station. Some are born with silver spoons. Others, like you, in the mud. If you want to blame someone, blame the family you were born into.” He leaned forward. “I’m willing to let your…outburst slide. But you owe me a lesson.” A hotel key card slid across the desk between us. “I have a dinner with Mr. Harrison tonight. You will attend. And you will personally ensure he gets back to his room.” My blood ran cold. Everyone knew Mr. Harrison’s reputation as a lecherous creep who treated business dinners as a prelude. Taking him to his hotel wasn’t a courtesy. It was a delivery. Derek was making me part of the deal. I scoffed, snatching the key card. His smile started to form, then I slapped him across the face with it. Smack! Surprise flashed in his eyes, then burned into pure rage. “Anya, you dare refuse my generosity?” I crossed my arms, my voice glacial. “Who’s truly shameless here?” “Derek, asking me to ‘escort’ Harrison? We both know what that means. Don’t make me say the ugly part out loud.” He was about to speak when the office door swung open. Chloe, dressed in a frilly Lolita outfit, skipped in, one hand clutching a bag of greasy fries, the other a bubble tea. As her team lead, I’d told her repeatedly that costumes weren’t work attire. Derek had always overruled me. Now I understood. He wasn’t just humoring her. He was currying favor with who he thought was the CEO’s darling daughter. “Derek, I got us the most amazing-” Chloe’s cooing cut off as she spotted me. Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Anya, you bitch, what are you doing in Derek’s office?” “Tell me, are you secretly trying to seduce my boyfriend behind my back?”

Her voice was piercing, and busy colleagues craned their necks to look, whispering amongst themselves. This was the twentieth time today I’d been gawked at like a monkey in a zoo. Ever since she and Derek suddenly declared themselves a couple this morning, Chloe had been like a radar, constantly tracking me. When I felt cold and changed into a red jacket, she shrieked in anger: “Anya, have you no shame? You know Derek loves red, so you wear red? You’re trying to get his attention, aren’t you? How pathetic can you be?!” I just called her “nuts” and kept working. When I got up to use the restroom, she suddenly blocked my way. “I won’t let you go! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You only went because Derek just went to the restroom!” “I’m telling you, he said he’ll never get back with you, he loves me! Going there won’t change a thing!” I really had to go, so I pushed her aside, but she still followed me, chattering incessantly. “My man already warned you off, and you still went to the restroom to hook up with him? Do you know what home-wreckers like you would face in the old days? Public shaming, humiliation!” I locked the door and took a quick pee, but her mouth still didn’t stop. “Just give up, Anya. A man as amazing as Derek will only ever be mine. Your mom’s a cleaner, you’re trash, you…” I couldn’t stand her craziness anymore and decided to text my mom, asking when my junior-level internship would end so I could be transferred. She appeared out of nowhere, snatched my phone, and read my message aloud. Seeing that I’d saved my mom’s contact as “CEO,” she clutched her stomach and burst into mocking laughter. “Your cleaning lady mom, and you saved her as ‘CEO’ in your phone? That’s hilarious!” “Anya, remember this: you and your mom are trash. You belong in a dumpster, wasting space, wasting air. You should just die, die soon…” I slapped her across the face. My team members also spoke up for me. “Chloe, your mouth is spewing pure sewage! Did you forget to eat, or is your breath always this foul?” “Yeah, it’s like a garlic bomb went off, so gross…” Seeing everyone on my side, she reluctantly returned my phone. After two hours of blessed quiet, her “affliction” apparently returned. I didn’t want to stoop to her level; she seemed like someone with serious mental issues. But her incessant badgering was too much. I held up three fingers and swore to the heavens. “Chloe, relax, nobody’s trying to steal that loser from you. No, let me be clearer: I wouldn’t take him even if he came with a bow on top.” “But if you slander me again, I’m calling the police.” I thought she’d back off, but instead, she snarled and threw her bubble tea at me. The sticky, sweet drink splattered all over me. The culprit, however, screamed like the victim. “Anya, you bitch, who are you trying to fool?” “You say you don’t want to hook up with Derek, then tell me, where did that hotel key card on the table come from?”

At her words, colleagues outside the office widened their eyes. A chorus of whispers erupted. “No way! iIs Anya really that desperate? Trying to keep him with her body?” “Playing the victim after causing the scene. No wonder Chloe snapped.” “I heard he dumped her because her mom’s a cleaner. Chloe’s the CEO’s daughter! Anya’s just swinging from the corporate ladder to the… other kind.” A few voices rose in my defense, but they were swallowed by the tide of speculation. If I didn’t clear this up today, my reputation would be ruined. But before I defended myself, I had to get revenge for that bubble tea! I grabbed a cup from the table and splashed it over Chloe. She looked like a drowned rat, her makeup smeared and running, like some kind of ghost. Derek, who had been watching the whole spectacle, played the knight in shining armor, grabbing her and glaring at me to defend her. “Anya, that’s enough! You’re harassing a colleague, disrupting the office, and insubordinate.” “Apologize to Chloe, or clear your desk!” Seeing him abuse his petty power like this, I was filled with regret. Two months ago, the Director of Sales position had opened up. It was a bloodbath. Derek hadn’t even made the GM’s shortlist. I was the one who vouched for him. It took a week of pleading with my mother just to get Derek in the door. The condition was simple: his team’s performance had to double within three months of his promotion, or he was out. I agreed without hesitation. With my client portfolio and connections, hitting his target would be easy. Just yesterday, I’d closed a fifty-million-dollar deal with a personal contact. I was about to hand him that victory and then he saw my mother in her cleaner’s uniform. His whole demeanor shifted. He dumped me on the spot. The next day, he stole my promotion and handed it to Chloe, the intern I couldn’t stand. So much for the deal. Let him pack his bags and get out. He’s earned his failure. A faint, humorless laugh escaped me. I met his gaze. “Is that your final decision?” Derek’s ego couldn’t tolerate being questioned. His temper ignited. “You heard me. Apologize or get out.” Since the day I joined, I’d been desperate to prove I was more than just the founder’s daughter. Dating him only doubled the pressure. I’d poured everything into propping him up. The truth was, I was exhausted. And suddenly, profoundly done. “Fine. Tell HR to prepare my paperwork.” Ignoring him, I walked out of the office. Back at my desk, my friend Grace gave me a thumbs-up. “Whoa, girl, you’re fearless! That was so satisfying to watch.” But soon, her face clouded with worry. “It was satisfying, but with the economy being so tough, jobs are hard to find. Aren’t you being too impulsive? Will you regret this later?” I smiled meaningfully. “Don’t worry, I’m not the one who’ll be regretting anything.” After changing into clean clothes in the restroom, I bumped into Chloe. She smirked with schadenfreude. “Serves you right for being so prideful and ticking off Derek. HR is already in the office, you know. Even if you regret it now, you can’t stay.” I couldn’t be bothered to engage her, but she followed me. “Hey, actually, staying might not be impossible. If you begged me on your knees, maybe I’d be nice enough to ask my CEO dad to let you stay. How does that sound?” I had no respect for this clown, but her repeatedly impersonating me crossed a line. Now she’d see what I was truly capable of. I stepped closer, staring her down. “Chloe, are you really the CEO’s daughter?”

Her pupils dilated, a flicker of panic in her eyes before she quickly regained her composure. “Of course! If I’m not the CEO’s daughter, then are you?” She jingled a set of car keys. “See this? It’s a Porsche 911 key. My dad just gave it to me for my birthday!” I initially thought it was a fake, but then I saw the “XY” engraving on the key and my eyes widened. Wasn’t this the 25th birthday gift Mom gave me last month? She said it was custom-made, one of a kind in the world. I’d sent it to the dealership for repairs a few days ago. How did it end up in her hands? I grabbed her arm, my gaze icy, ready to kill. “Tell me, who gave you this key?!” “If you don’t tell me the truth, I’m calling the police right now!” Chloe, stung by my piercing stare, grew even more flustered and couldn’t meet my eyes. Just then, a crowd of people came into the restroom. She pushed me, snatched the car keys back, and ran off. Watching her retreating back, I immediately called Mr. Davies, our butler. The phone connected, and several jarring music notes blared. I instinctively frowned and moved the phone away from my ear. When I put it back, the music had been replaced by Mr. Davies’s hurried breathing. “Miss Anya, I’m just helping the gardener tidy up the grounds. What can I do for you?” Something felt off, but I couldn’t quite place it. “Is the car I sent for repairs ready? I need to use it.” He paused, stammering, “It’s… it’s fixed. When would you like to use it? I’ll bring it over.” I told him a time and hung up. But it still felt wrong. My mom likes quiet; there would be no music at the villa. And Mr. Davies was always so composed; this was the first time he’d ever stammered. After thinking it over, I texted a friend at the dealership to ask about my car. He sounded surprised: “Your car was repaired three days ago! Your butler picked it up.” “Though, he did have a young girl with him at the time.” I clicked on the surveillance footage he sent me. Seeing the familiar Lolita outfit, I confirmed it was Chloe. So, what exactly was the relationship between Mr. Davies and Chloe? I instructed Assistant Miller, my mom’s special assistant, to investigate, then absentmindedly returned to my desk. Just as I sat down, a document was slammed onto my table. I looked up, meeting Ms. Jenkins’s disdainful gaze. “Sign it quickly, and get out.” I opened the contract and laughed in disbelief at the clauses. “I confirm that during my employment, I disclosed company core secrets and engaged in irregular project operations, and voluntarily waive all unpaid wages, year-end bonuses, and non-compete compensation.” “I agree that I will not join any competitor in the same industry within three years of my departure. If I violate this, I will pay the company 5 million dollars in liquidated damages.” “I voluntarily assume all economic losses caused to the company by my irregular conduct, totaling 800,000 dollars, to be settled in full on the day of my departure.” … Even an idiot could tell Derek had HR deliberately screw me over. Did he think I had no connections and would just swallow this bitter pill? Why should I? These sycophantic, spineless leeches really needed to be dealt with. I opened the contract, taking photos of each page and sending them to my mom. “Mom, your daughter is about to be fired. Look at these ridiculous, one-sided clauses from HR. Don’t you think the company needs a serious overhaul?” No sooner had I sent the message than my desk was violently slammed. Derek glared at me impatiently. “Anya, stop stalling. It’s useless. Just sign the contract and get out!” I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair, calm and composed. “Are you sure you want me to sign? I’m afraid you’ll regret it later, you know?” Derek scoffed, his tone even more contemptuous. “Regret?” “If I ever regret this, I swear to God, I’ll go on live and eat shit!” I was intrigued. I pulled out my phone, started recording, and prompted him to say it again. He took my actions as a challenge, shrugging indifferently and repeating himself. Finally, he didn’t forget to humiliate me. “I’ll just wait and see if you come begging me first, or if I’ll regret it first!” It would definitely be him regretting it first. A message from my mom lit up my phone just then. She was taking me out tomorrow for a formal introduction and a “branch office reorganization.” In other words, Derek was going to be eating his words on live television tomorrow. And I meant that almost literally. With that pleasant thought, I signed the termination papers with a flourish. The moment the contract was in his hands, Derek’s bravado returned. He beckoned over a few colleagues who’d never liked me. “Watch her like a hawk while she packs. If she so much as touches a company pen, call security.” They nodded, forming a loose circle around me like vultures. I didn’t have much to take, just a few family photos. As I reached for the last one, a hand shot out and snatched it from my grasp. It was Mr. Peterson, the GM. He was staring at the photo, his face pale. “How do you have photos with the Chairwoman? Who are you to her?”

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The day I won the National Photography Contest, Liam, my boyfriend of eight years, said he’d personally present the flowers on stage. Standing on that podium, my heart was pounding with anticipation, ready to propose with my championship ring. But then, with a smile that twisted my gut, he publicly handed that bouquet of roses to his female friend, Harper. Under the harsh spotlight, they became the undeniable center of attention. The venue buzzed, and trending topics online exploded with congratulatory messages. Harper’s fans even tagged me in their posts: “Told you not to cling to our favorite couple! Bet you feel silly now, huh?” I simply posted a message on Ins: “Respect. Blessings. May you two be forever tied.” Under the dazzling spotlight, I gripped the trophy, a symbol of the industry’s highest honor, standing center stage in the awards hall. My boyfriend, Liam, walked slowly toward me, a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hands. He’d once promised that when I won the National Photography Contest, he’d announce our relationship during the awards ceremony. Tonight, he must have come specially to give me flowers, even picking roses, symbols of love. It was the first time he’d ever given me flowers, and his expression was so focused. My cheeks flushed as I tried to calm the wild flutter in my chest, my eyes fixed on him as he approached. I mentally rehearsed my plan: the moment he handed me the flowers, I’d pull out the ring and propose to him live, in front of the whole country. Even if we’d been arguing just yesterday over some work disagreements. But what couple doesn’t have a few arguments, right? My fingers nervously traced the outline of the ring in my pocket. “Congratulations on your win!” Liam said, extending the flowers. I reached out, joy bubbling in my chest, ready to take them. But they brushed past my outstretched hand, landing squarely in the arms of my colleague, Harper, who stood beside me. Harper was Liam’s long-time friend, someone he’d known even longer than me, and also a photographer. My smile instantly froze, a brittle mask on my face. Staring at my boyfriend, who was now beaming at Harper, I paused, then let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Harper. Again. I should have known. In his heart, this female friend had always been more important than his girlfriend. Our argument yesterday? It was about Harper, too. Yet, I never imagined he would publicly give flowers, symbols of love, to Harper. Harper, with her unique photography style and rare beauty, had a massive following in the photography community. Giving her flowers in public like that would undoubtedly be misinterpreted by everyone. Silently, I slipped the ring back into my pocket, hearing the entire venue erupt in fan screams. The sound was so loud, it felt like it could tear the roof off. Flashes from cameras exploded, making everything else around them fade into insignificance. The awards ceremony wasn’t even over, and videos of their interaction were already trending. They looked like a perfect match, talented and attractive, prompting countless people to “ship” them as a couple. But all that excitement had nothing to do with me. With a wry smile, I stepped off the stage and walked alone to the backstage lounge. Watching the flood of well-wishes on trending topics, I suddenly felt utterly exhausted. Perhaps it was time to put an end to this relationship. So, I sent Liam a SnapChat message: “Let’s break up. I won’t get in your way anymore.” The moment I sent it, Liam called. I didn’t plan to answer, hanging up immediately. Then I called a cab and headed back to our shared apartment to pack my bags. This apartment was mine and Liam’s. Since we’d broken up, there was no way I could continue living under the same roof as him. While I packed, Liam sent me countless messages: “What do you mean, ‘break up’?” “What are you stirring up now! Can you stop being so petty!” “Alright, everyone wants to celebrate, come on over, Harper and the others are waiting for you!” Every single word revolved around Harper. He gave roses to another woman, then turned around and accused me of being narrow-minded. I scoffed at my phone, turned it off, and zipped up my suitcase. It all happened so suddenly; I didn’t have time to find another place, so I decided to temporarily move into a friend’s vacant apartment. The apartment was quiet. All the other exhibitors were out celebrating. Habitually, I turned on my laptop, exported the raw files from the awards ceremony, and began post-processing. Only when I focused on color grading and composition could I find a semblance of peace.

Liam didn’t call until the middle of the night. I was still sifting through shooting material then. I glanced at my phone on the side, pressed the mute button, and had no intention of answering. Immediately, a flurry of messages popped up. “Why aren’t you home yet?” “Where did you go?” “The flowers I specially picked for you are wilting, where are you? Didn’t you say you liked the flowers I gave you?” Did I need flowers as an apology after the fact? I turned off the screen, a self-deprecating smirk playing on my lips. He was always like this: hit me, then offer a sweet treat. In the past, deeply in love with him, I never saw anything wrong with his behavior. I even rationalized it, convincing myself he truly cared about me. But now, I was clear-headed. I knew he was just stringing me along. I was leaving. In this world, no one is indispensable. Not me, and not Liam. … I pulled an all-nighter that day, organizing my portfolio, then slept soundly until three in the afternoon the next day. I went to my former studio to handle my resignation handover and saw Liam sitting at my old desk, deep in thought. I wasn’t surprised he found me here. After all, besides home and here, where else would I go? Hearing footsteps, he turned and saw me. “What happened last night? You didn’t answer your calls, didn’t reply to my messages. I thought something terrible had happened to you!” I cleared my throat, my voice flat. “I went to bed early.” Liam froze, then frowned. He looked at me, puzzled. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so quiet today?” He was right. In the past, seeing him show up on his own, I would have been overjoyed, practically bouncing off the walls, eager to tell him every little detail of my day. But now, all I had was silence, so it was natural for him to find it strange. And he seemed to have forgotten that I’d already broken up with him yesterday. He certainly wouldn’t remember how he’d publicly humiliated me. Before I could interject, he spoke again: “Today marks Harper’s third anniversary in our photography circle. She’s hosting, let’s go together.” I wanted to make an excuse to decline, but as an insider, my absence might lead to unnecessary speculation. Besides, I wanted a chance to tell everyone that Liam and I were over. I simply hummed in agreement, stood up, straightened my clothes, and followed him to the hotel. When we arrived, I realized it wasn’t just Harper’s friends who were there. There was a large crowd of Harper’s photography fans. More than a celebration of Harper’s three-year anniversary, it felt like a fan meet-and-greet. I hadn’t even entered the door yet, but I could already hear the clamor from the banquet hall. I instinctively looked for Liam, but he was already gone. “Looking for Liam? I’ll take you.” Ryan, Liam’s friend, appeared out of nowhere, leading me straight to a private room on the second floor. Looking down, Liam’s figure appeared on the stage. He was pushing a giant cake, holding a string of pink and white balloons, making a surprise appearance for Harper. Below, fans screamed, shouting for them to get married on the spot, even calling Liam “brother-in-law.” Ryan raised an eyebrow at me, then pointed to the two on stage: “See? Don’t they make a perfect couple?” A bitter taste filled my throat. Yes, they did. A perfect match.

Liam had never put so much effort into anything for me. Even on my birthday, when I explicitly asked for a cake, he would only grumble impatiently, saying we were adults, why bother with such pointless formalities? Yet now, in front of everyone, he had given Harper such a grand surprise. It was clear: only when you truly cared did you put in the effort. Ryan watched my reaction, seemingly satisfied by my obvious distress. A playful smirk played on his lips, twisting a knife in my heart. After the meet-and-greet, Liam and Harper returned to the private room together. Ryan immediately clapped Liam on the shoulder, teasing, “Liam, you prepared such a huge surprise for Harper, aren’t you afraid your girl will get jealous?” Liam’s body stiffened, and he looked up at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Next time it’s your birthday or our anniversary, I’ll prepare a similar surprise for you.” I shook my head faintly. “No need.” If it was exactly the same, how could it still be a surprise? I wasn’t so pathetic as to want something someone else had already used. Liam pursed his lips, seemingly wanting to say more but holding back. Before he could speak, Harper interjected, “Chloe, you’re not angry, are you? Liam was just cooperating for the sake of studio publicity, don’t take it to heart.” “As his girlfriend, you should be more understanding of him, don’t always make him guess your thoughts to please you; it’s very hard on him.” Typical of Liam’s long-time friend, always looking out for him. I let out a soft laugh. “With you looking out for him, who needs anyone else to interfere?” The words carried a hint of provocation, instantly freezing the atmosphere. Harper sighed, offering a helpless smile. “Alright, it seems you really are angry. I apologize then, don’t blame Liam.” Awkwardness hung in the air. Someone quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “We’re all in the same circle, why are we being so formal? Come on, let’s drink, let’s drink.” Ryan squeezed into the middle, grinning. “It’s not just today, you know? Liam even gave Harper flowers yesterday.” He finished, looking at me with a playful smirk, seeking confirmation. His words made Liam think he’d found the key to the problem. He turned to me. “Are you really sulking over something so small?” He said casually, “I bought you flowers yesterday too, but you left early, so I didn’t get to give them to you. But, I still have them.” With that, he walked to a corner of the private room and pulled out a small bouquet of Lisianthus from a cardboard box filled with beer. The moment he brought them out, someone couldn’t help but let out a snicker. The reason was simple—this bouquet of Lisianthus looked cheap, a stark contrast to the red roses Liam had given Harper yesterday. Harper had even brought her roses with her, and placed side by side, the difference was painfully obvious. The gazes around me carried a hint of mockery, as if to taunt me for daring to compare myself to Harper. Harper, meanwhile, proudly raised an eyebrow, her face beaming with triumph. She looked disdainfully at the Lisianthus bouquet, feigning a scolding tone. “Liam, you should have given Chloe roses, why these flowers?” Her tone practically screamed that Liam was treating me like giving scraps to a beggar. Liam replied blandly, “After the dinner party last night, it was already very late when I went to buy flowers; there were no more roses. These flowers are passable; she’s not very picky anyway, she probably won’t mind.” The best for Harper, just “passable” for me. Turns out, love and indifference were so painfully clear. How could he assume I didn’t care? He extended the flowers to me, but I didn’t reach out to take them. Liam’s previously relaxed brow furrowed again. “You don’t like flowers anymore? I specifically picked these for you.” “No, thanks. Give them to someone else,” I replied calmly. “What are you stirring up now?” he pressed. “I’m not stirring anything up; I’m serious. I have things to do, so I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll be leaving.” I opened the private room door and left without looking back. Just a few steps out, the whispers behind me began. “Chloe is taking this way too seriously.” “Harper and Liam’s video went viral, and our studio received a lot of sponsorships. Isn’t that a good thing? Why be so nitpicky?” “Exactly.” Liam lost his patience, tossing the flowers aside. “Let her go, I’m not dealing with her anymore.” Those sharp words stabbed at my heart again and again. I paused, a profound sense of sadness rising within me. In his heart, I was so utterly insignificant.

Back at my temporary place, I made a packet of instant ramen and settled down in front of my computer to continue organizing my contest entries. Only when my eyes started to ache did I reluctantly close the laptop. My phone suddenly pinged with a notification. I opened it to find that Harper had posted on SnapChat. [So glad to have you. You even made me hangover soup when I was drunk.] The photo showed Liam in an apron, busy in the kitchen, looking incredibly cozy in the soft lighting. So, Liam could cook for others. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and commented: “Your boyfriend is so thoughtful. Wishing you two a happy ever after.” Then I completely blocked both him and Harper on SnapChat. Soon after, a call came in from an unknown number. Liam’s voice came through. “Chloe, what was that comment about?” “Do you have to make everyone miserable to be satisfied? Apologize to Harper right now, or you won’t see me for days!” I smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you again.” Then I hung up. In the days that followed, I focused entirely on my new photography project, already adapting to life without him. It wasn’t until the industry networking event that he reappeared before me. At the entrance to the venue, Liam stood tall and handsome in a sharp suit. He really was attractive. I remembered being struck by him the first time we met. Back then, he’d also been at the studio looking for someone. Thinking about it now, he was probably looking for Harper even then. I scoffed, walked around him, and headed straight into the venue. He paused, then quickly followed behind me. “Chloe, how long are you planning to give me the silent treatment?” His tone was slightly impatient. “You haven’t been home for days, and you blocked me. What exactly do you want?” Inside the venue, Harper and other colleagues cast curious, gossipy glances our way. I swept my gaze over them, deciding to make things clear. “Liam, we’ve already broken up.” He looked at me in disbelief. “Are you serious? Just because fans are shipping me and Harper?” A note of accusation crept into his voice. “Chloe, when did you become so arbitrary?” “You know perfectly well those are just online jokes. Harper and I are just friends. Can you please stop making assumptions about our relationship?” At his words, Harper’s expression turned complex, and she looked at me with a hint of triumph. But I didn’t care anymore. I smiled faintly. “You’ll never realize what the problem is.” “Then tell me, what’s my problem? Is it not that you’re overly sensitive?” Liam stared directly at me. I didn’t respond. As the organizers and other guests arrived, I simply picked an empty seat. Liam seemed to want to say more, but, with everyone else present, he had no choice but to leave, planning to confront me after the event.

During the studio’s debriefing meeting, Mr. Davies specifically praised Harper, saying her collaborative photography series with Liam had garnered a sensational response on social media, bringing in numerous new clients and commercial partnerships for the studio. Then, his tone shifted, and he gave me a meaningful glance before announcing a team restructuring. A flicker of subtle triumph crossed Harper’s face, and an ominous feeling immediately rose in my heart. Sure enough, Mr. Davies continued, “Chloe, you’ve contributed a lot to the studio these past two years; everyone sees that. However…” “Considering you need time to recover from your previous car accident, we’ve decided not to assign you to the core shooting projects for the next season for now.” “Harper will take over as Lead Photographer, and she’ll be leading several important commercial projects.” “You’re a veteran here, Chloe, so I won’t treat you unfairly. During your recovery, you can assist the team with post-production photo selection and material organization.” Relegating a Lead Photographer who had just won a national award to an administrative role was nothing short of a demotion in disguise. I couldn’t help but offer a bitter smile. “Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Davies, but I joined this studio to create and shoot. If I can no longer hold a camera, I choose to leave.” Ignoring his frozen expression, I stood up and walked straight out of the conference room. Liam, waiting by the door, looked utterly stunned. Just as he was about to speak, Harper followed me out, her voice laced with provocation. “Chloe, why be so stubborn? If you’re willing to talk nicely, I might be able to put in a good word with Mr. Davies to let you stay and participate in some minor shoots.” She briefly explained the decision to Liam. Liam frowned, trying to persuade me. “Don’t be impulsive. Where will you go to develop your career if you leave here? Doing post-production isn’t so bad; at least it’s stable, and you’ll have more time…” I cut him off with a cold laugh. “No need.” I continued walking out, with Liam and Harper still following behind, attempting to dissuade me. Liam, especially, kept insisting that I should humble myself to Harper. Just then, an out-of-control car swerved violently towards us. Without a second thought, Liam shoved Harper out of the way, shouting, “Harper, watch out!” I, however, couldn’t react in time, was struck by the car, and thrown several feet, hitting the ground hard. Intense pain instantly spread through me, and my vision began to blur. “Chloe!” Liam’s face went white as he rushed toward me. But I no longer had the strength to respond and finally lost consciousness. When I next awoke, I was lying in a hospital bed. Liam was sitting by my bedside. Seeing my eyes open, he immediately leaned closer. “You’re awake?! You were unconscious for three whole days… When the car came at us, why didn’t you dodge?” He babbled on, trying to help me sit up, but I instinctively flinched away from his touch. Liam paused. “Are you… still angry at me?” He quickly explained, “I’m sorry, the situation was so sudden, I just instinctively…” He trailed off mid-sentence, his gaze darting away. I merely responded calmly, “I understand. You just instinctively protected her. You don’t need to explain.” In that moment, his primal instinct had been to choose Harper. That said it all. My heart felt like a still, cold pond, too numb even for disappointment. Liam tried to say something else, but a phone call interrupted him.

He glanced at the caller ID, his expression hesitant, but he answered eventually. “Liam, my wrist really hurts, I might have sprained it when I fell that day… Will it affect next month’s outdoor shoot? Can you come see me?” Harper’s voice, intentionally fragile, drifted from the earpiece. Liam immediately looked anxious, then glanced at me, torn. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine,” I offered, letting him off the hook. He looked relieved, and after hanging up, he was full of apologies. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Harper, she… she gets emotional, I’m worried it might affect her work…” I softly hummed in response, knowing full well he likely wouldn’t be back anytime soon. It wasn’t the first time he’d abandoned me for Harper. Last year on my birthday, we’d planned to go to the mountains to shoot the stars, but he left me alone in the countryside because Harper called saying she’d forgotten her keys. It even started raining heavily that day, and I almost had an accident due to the slippery mountain road. As I was reminiscing, a “nurse” entered, pushing a tray. Seeing the room empty, she frowned. “Where’s your family? No one to stay with you? Don’t they know you need to be observed after a car accident?” I shook my head. “I don’t have family.” The “nurse” looked surprised. “Then… the gentleman who was here earlier, watching over you, wasn’t your boyfriend?” “We broke up a long time ago.” She was speechless for a moment. Just then, my phone rang, and she naturally picked it up for me. As soon as she answered, Mr. Davies’s furious roar came through the phone. “Chloe, find a time to clear out your personal belongings! Your hand is in that state, can you even press the shutter anymore? The studio doesn’t keep idle hands; you’re fired!” The call ended, making the atmosphere in the hospital room even more awkward. My heart sank, my voice hoarse. “My hand… I really can’t shoot anymore?” The “nurse,” however, suddenly lit up, quickly stepping closer. “Who said that! Your injury is an ulnar fracture with ligament sprain, but with good rehabilitation, you can absolutely recover your shooting function!” She paused, her voice becoming excited. “Chloe, if they don’t want you, I do! Come join my team!”

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At the wedding, I reached out my hand, but my fiancé, Ryan Carter, slid the ring onto the finger of Jessica Miller, my father’s mistress’s daughter. My mother’s heart seized up with fury, yet Ryan simply met my gaze, a chilling calm in his eyes. “Carter Corp. is going public next month. Since your mother already signed the divorce agreement, leaving with absolutely nothing, I doubt you can offer me any help. My wife can only be the heiress of the Miller family.” My wedding became Jessica Miller’s wedding. My mother died of a heart attack amidst the biting whispers and cruel laughter. Five years later, Ryan Carter returned home with Jessica and their three-year-old son. He found me making soup in his kitchen and immediately tried to kick me out. “Samantha Kingston, have you no shame? Are you still dreaming of me marrying you? In your dreams!” With that, he grabbed my collar, his grip like iron, and started dragging me towards the door. Just then, his aunt, Carol, emerged from the study. “You insolent brat! Let go of your stepmother!” Ryan didn’t quite hear her, but Aunt Carol’s sheer presence made him visibly flinch, shrinking his neck back. Aunt Carol didn’t even give him a proper look, her gaze sweeping over Jessica. “What do you think this place is? A dog pound? Get her out of here now!”

Aunt Carol despised home-wreckers more than anyone. Realizing Aunt Carol had called her a dog, Jessica’s eyes immediately welled up. “I know you resent me, but my feelings for Ryan are genuine. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone through hell and risked my life to have Leo.” She yanked the boy from the corner, forcing him to his knees. “Leo, come here!” Seeing Aunt Carol remain silent, Jessica crawled on her knees towards me, tears streaming down her face. “Five years ago, Ryan and I truly wronged you. But we’re a family now; that’s an unchangeable fact.” “I’m begging you, please, talk to Aunt Carol for me. As long as Leo can return to the Carter family, I’ll gladly leave with nothing and give Ryan back to you. I promise I’ll never bother you again!” Jessica reached for my clothes, but I recoiled, dodging her. She seized the opportunity, collapsing dramatically to the floor. Before I could react, Ryan violently shoved me. My back slammed into the corner of the dining table, the pain making my fingertips tremble. Ryan acted as if he hadn’t seen it, tenderly pulling Jessica into his arms, as if she were the one truly hurt. “Jessica, I forbid you from talking nonsense! Leo’s mother and my wife can only be you.” “Samantha Kingston! I can’t believe after five years, you’re still so merciless! I wouldn’t marry you five years ago, and I certainly won’t now! The only woman I’ve ever loved, and the only woman I’ll ever have children with, is Jessica! Get out of here and go back to wherever you came from! You’re not welcome in our home.” I didn’t utter a single word through the entire ordeal, only felt my tailbone throbbing. My father had said those very same words when he’d kicked my mother and me out. Even Ryan’s eyes held the exact same look my father had given us five years ago. As if I were the villain, the one who’d driven Jessica to desperation. But five years ago, it was Jessica’s mother who’d forced my mother and me out, leaving us with nothing. In the end, it was the victim who was blamed; it was my fault. I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself, then leaned on my tailbone and offered a faint smile. “Five years, Ryan. No one stays the same.” Just like that stormy night, when I was stabbed through the tailbone by thugs trying to save him. Five years had passed, and it had healed. Though it still ached sometimes, it never hurt like it did back then. Ryan looked at me, surprised, but Aunt Carol slapped him across the face. “You good-for-nothing! Who gave you permission to hurt her?!”

After Ryan’s birth mother died in the line of duty, she entrusted him to Aunt Carol. Busy with her work, Aunt Carol then handed him over to her brother, Arthur Kingston, who lived abroad, to raise. To outsiders, Ryan was Arthur’s foster son. So, after marrying Arthur five years ago, I became Ryan’s foster mother. In the five years since our marriage, no one in the Kingston family dared to raise their voice at me, let alone lay a hand on me. Ryan, oblivious to the truth, thought his words had simply caused Aunt Carol to misunderstand. He started explaining frantically. “No, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, I was just saying— ” Before Ryan could finish, Jessica snatched my hand and lifted the wedding ring, a ring Arthur had spent three months creating by hand, into the light. “You’re married?!” Ryan stared at me in disbelief, grabbing my hand. His face cycled from white to green, then flushed red. “Samantha Kingston, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?!” My wrist throbbed from his grip. I yanked it back forcefully and started rubbing it. “Let go! I have nothing to explain to you.” Ryan’s eyes darkened, his lips parted, but no words came out. Five years ago, it was he who had publicly declared at the wedding that he was marrying Jessica, not me. Shouldn’t he be happy I was married? Why was he complaining? A flicker of unnoticed triumph crossed Jessica’s eyes as she feigned surprise. “Since you’re already married to someone else, why are you still trying to win over Aunt Carol?” “Are you trying to play games, hoping to marry Ryan too, so you can walk all over our family of three and the entire Carter family? Five years ago, my family wronged you, but the entire Carter family belongs to Dad. Doing this shows you have no respect for him!” Jessica was a master at taking a minor incident and twisting it into something excessively manipulative. And the culprit, always, was me. It was like that when I was living at home, and it continued after I met Ryan. The old me would have fought desperately to clear my name. Now, I just saw it as a joke. But Ryan took it seriously, his eyebrows twitching with rage. “Samantha Kingston, you disgusting woman, you’re a curse on any family you join! You deserve to be abandoned by your father, just like your mother!” Before I could even react, there was a sharp *smack*, and Aunt Carol’s full force sent one of Ryan’s teeth flying. Bright red blood splattered across the back of my hand, a sickening spray. I grimaced in disgust. Ryan turned his head, clutching his face, staring at Aunt Carol in disbelief. “Aunt Carol… ” “I’ll kill you, you witch! If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have hit Daddy!” Leo, who had been silently hiding behind Jessica, suddenly lunged like a wild animal, slamming into my stomach. No one had time to react. I was caught off guard and knocked to the ground. A sharp cramp seized my abdomen, and a sudden, terrifying warmth flooded between my legs. I stared at Aunt Carol in terror, tears bursting forth. “Save my baby… ” Even Aunt Carol, who had witnessed countless life-and-death situations, was horrified by the sight of my unstoppable bleeding. She quickly dialed 911 for an ambulance. Jessica, having recovered her composure, stopped Aunt Carol, feigning an air of experienced wisdom as she argued. “Don’t let Samantha’s tricks fool you. I think she just got a little bump from Leo, and her period started early.” “She’s so desperate to marry Ryan, how could she possibly get pregnant with some other guy’s kid? It’s all a ploy. If you fall for it, you’ll walk right into her trap!” Ryan, still dazed from the shock, gradually started echoing her words. “She’s right! Samantha is just like her mother, full of schemes. Otherwise, why would her father eventually lose patience and abandon her?” He then stared at me with disdain, pinching his nose. “Samantha Kingston, how disgusting can you be? You knew your period was coming, why didn’t you prepare? Do you know every single tile you’re lying on was personally overseen by my father for my mother? Now it’s stained with your blood. Aunt Carol not killing you is a miracle! Now get out!” I clutched my stomach, curled into a ball. Cold sweat soaked my clothes, and I trembled uncontrollably from the pain. Aunt Carol quickly scooped me up, practically in tears with worry. Her clenched fists, seeing the culprit was just a child, helplessly relaxed. She could only keep urging me not to sleep. “Don’t you dare sleep! Just hold on a little longer, the ambulance will be here any second.”

I clung desperately to Aunt Carol’s sleeve, as if that alone could hold onto the life inside me. But in my ear, I heard Ryan let out a humorless laugh, looking at me with mockery. “Samantha Kingston, five years unseen, and you’ve certainly grown bolder. Claiming to be my father’s wife! Have you forgotten, my father is known throughout this city as an infamously private CEO? Not just a woman, not even a female ant can get close to him!” “Six years ago, a college student spread rumors that she was his girlfriend. The night my father heard about it, that student mysteriously disappeared! Samantha, are you insane, or do you just have a death wish? How dare you spread such lies in my family’s home?” I was in too much pain to respond. But Ryan and Jessica took my silence as guilt, their words growing even more venomous. “Ryan, don’t be angry. I think she still loves you too much, otherwise, she wouldn’t take such risks using Dad as an excuse.” “But, Sam, I have to remind you. Since you’ve told everyone you’re Dad’s wife, how could Ryan possibly marry you? Wouldn’t that be a generational mess? Or are all your elaborate attempts to marry Ryan just for the Carter family fortune?” “Oh my God! If that’s true, then five years ago, when you risked your life to save Ryan from those thugs… was that all a self-staged act too? How could your schemes run so deep?!” Jessica shielded her son, the culprit, behind Ryan, her timid demeanor instantly igniting Ryan’s fury. He kicked a dining chair aside, then roughly yanked me up from the floor. “Samantha Kingston! You truly are a woman of such calculating schemes! I deserved to be blind for wasting so many years on you! Get out of here right now! The mere sight of you makes my eyes hurt!” I wasn’t careful, and my shirt ripped open. My exposed lower back pressed against the cold floor. The scar on my tailbone felt like a lightning strike, merging with the memory of that stormy night five years ago. Through the pouring rain, I’d screamed at the thug who was beating Ryan. “Let him go! I’ll go with you!” I knew they wouldn’t truly dare to offend the Kingston family. My appearance was just a carefully calculated move on their part. Ryan had struggled, telling me not to intervene. But I’d stared into the downpour, moving closer to him. “Ryan, only if you get out of here can I live.” An unspoken understanding passed between us in that moment. He was just one person. Despite my desperate pleas, he still ran off to get help. As expected, he brought back the feared Arthur Kingston. That was also the first time I met Arthur. I’d knelt before him, begging him to give me a chance to be with Ryan. I don’t remember what he said in response. I only remember that before I lost consciousness, Ryan held me tightly, overjoyed, and said. “Dad agreed! We can finally be together openly. I swear, I’ll never betray you in this life.” At the time, I was weak, my smile forced. Only then did Ryan realize, belatedly, that my entire tailbone had been shattered by the thug. However long I lay in the ICU, Ryan knelt outside the operating room. Back then, Ryan’s act of being madly in love with me had been truly convincing. So convincing, that I’d given him my entire heart and life. But the outcome, well, it was exactly as you’d expect. I didn’t know if he saw the scar on my tailbone, but Ryan was staring blankly at my blood-stained lower back. Aunt Carol scooped me up, kicked him, and roared, “Get out of my way!” Only then did he regain some awareness, murmuring my name. I was rushed into the ambulance by Aunt Carol. Through my blurry vision, I saw Ryan following, his face ashen, saying things I couldn’t understand. “Samantha Kingston, do you have no decency, bullying a three-year-old?!” “Fine, you don’t like Jessica. But I have one condition: you have to treat Leo like your own child!” “Samantha, just show me a little humility, and I’ll make sure you’re set up for life, you and your mother will never have to worry about food or shelter!”

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I was the fake heir. When the real one was found, he was thin and dark. My parents felt so bad for him they immediately offered compensation. But he said, “I’m their biological son. If you’re going to compensate, just give me the company!” My whole family tried to persuade me: “You’re not their real son after all. It’s time to give him back his place.” I smiled, nodded, and handed everything over. The very next day, the company’s biggest client, the core technical team, and all channel partners announced they would *only* work with me personally. My parents panicked, rushing over to beg me. I crossed my arms. “Tell that real heir to come beg me, the ’employee,’ to come back.” When Justin was found, he stood in the living room, looking timid. At that moment, I had just finalized a major deal with MC. On the way home, my assistant, Liam, had told me the family’s biological son had been found. My heart hammered, then settled. *They found him? Good, we’ll raise him well. We’ve got plenty of money.* But I never expected that when the real heir saw me, the timidity in his eyes would suddenly morph into raw jealousy. “I’ll come back, but he’s taken my place for so long, it’s time he gave it back!” “I don’t want anything else, just the company!” I just laughed. “I’ve managed the family business for ten years. Are you sure you can handle it?” My dismissive tone was too obvious. He flushed with anger, his voice rising. “I can learn! If I’d grown up here, I wouldn’t be any worse than you!” My relatives also tried to persuade me. “Alex, just give it to him. He’s the real son after all!” I looked at my parents. My dad, Robert, spoke with difficulty. “Alex, we owe him. Justin has had a really tough life these past years.” My mom, Sarah, was hugging Justin, weeping. “Those damn kidnappers sold him to some village! If we hadn’t found him, Justin might have been lost forever…” “Alex, just agree. Mom won’t treat you badly!” Watching them, I smiled. “Alright!” I agreed. I’d hand everything over to them. I had thought that even if the family’s biological son returned, I’d continue to be myself. I never intended to fight him for anything. I even felt sorry for him and bought him gifts. But I never expected to face this situation upon his return. Compensation, huh? Fine, I don’t want any of it. Right then and there, I had Liam draft the handover documents. I signed everything over to Justin. Justin practically vibrated with excitement, clutching the company papers, then throwing himself into Mom’s arms. I took a deep breath. “It’s all done. If there’s nothing else, I’m heading upstairs to rest.” Mom finally looked up. “Justin just got back. We should all have dinner together, as a family!” “I’m tired. I don’t feel like eating.” “Are you saying you don’t want to see me, Alex? I just got back, and you’re already treating me like this!” Justin’s eyes were red as he stared at me. Mom looked annoyed. “Alex! How can you be so insensitive!” I said calmly, “I just got back from a twenty-hour flight. I’m pretty exhausted. And I haven’t adjusted to the jet lag yet.” Hearing that, she finally remembered I was indeed just back from a business trip. Seeing my bloodshot eyes, she looked a little awkward. I ignored the sounds downstairs and went straight up. But the family group chat on SnapChat kept buzzing with new messages. I showered and glanced at my phone, a cold laugh bubbling up inside me. “Justin’s back! When is Alex throwing a party? This is huge for our family!” “Yeah, it should be a big one! And they can announce the company news at the same time. Oh, by the way, Alex shouldn’t be living at home anymore, right? And what about his engagement? Should that be reconsidered too?” I didn’t care about the others taking cheap shots, but that last message, I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t the family heir anymore, so what would Victoria’s stance be? The group chat kept refreshing, endlessly. I found it boring and just left the chat. According to them, I wasn’t family anymore, so I had no place in the group. I left on my own, saving them the trouble. But I still needed to clarify things with Victoria. The next morning, Justin went out with Mom and Dad. I packed a few clothes, planning to move into my own place.

Victoria asked me to meet her. “Alex, there’s a problem with our engagement.” Victoria and I had known each other for over ten years. As soon as she said that, I knew exactly what she meant. I spoke calmly into the phone. “I hear I’m not the heir anymore, so you want to call off the engagement?” She was silent. Those ten seconds of silence told me everything. “Alright, but ending an engagement isn’t something we can just decide between ourselves. Both families need to discuss it, don’t you think?” After a long pause, she simply said, “Okay.” After hanging up, I let out a long breath, feeling a sense of relief. For ten years, I’d dedicated everything to this family, bringing the company to new heights. Our engagement was also a strategic alliance, where we both got what we needed. I considered myself a pretty good fiancé, and Victoria and I generally got along well. We had an unspoken understanding, always protecting each other’s image in public. I thought Victoria and I had a genuine connection, but I never expected that a change in my status would quickly turn us into this. I took a deep breath and shook my head. After getting all my things sorted, I was about to leave when I found Justin and the others had returned. Money truly is a good thing. Justin, who had been timid yesterday, was now dressed in a sharp suit, looking like a completely different person. His skin was still a bit dark, but a few weeks of pampering would fix that. Seeing me with my bag, about to leave, Justin looked startled. “Are you leaving, Alex?” I nodded. “It’s not very convenient for me to stay here.” “You’re leaving the moment I return? Are you upset with me?” Mom’s face clouded over. “Alex, what’s gotten into you? Justin just gets back, and you’re giving everyone attitude!” “Sarah, let’s be real. Weren’t you all discussing kicking me out in the group chat yesterday? Am I doing something wrong by simply following your wishes now?” At my words, her face immediately froze. “I… they were just talking nonsense. That’s not what they meant. The family can still support you. Are you trying to drag our reputation through the mud by doing this?” I smiled. “If not, why were you consulting with Victoria?” “Victoria already proposed ending our engagement today. I’m giving everything back to you. Moving out now is exactly what you want, isn’t it? Unless you want outsiders to say our family has two sons, even though you didn’t give birth to twins.” My words clearly rattled her. She swayed slightly. Justin, standing nearby, piped up, “Alex, why are you talking like this? Mom means well!” “But Alex, the place you’re going to live is still paid for by the family. If you really want to cut ties, you can’t…” I stopped, turning to face him directly. My presence hardened, and a cold aura radiated from me, immediately making him shut up. “The money Alex earns, *I* decide what happens to it. Whether I relied on the family or the family relied on me, it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand. I’ll have someone teach you properly later!” With that, I walked out. Mom called after me from behind. “Alex! Alex!” I didn’t flinch. Today they forced my hand. Soon enough, they would be begging me. But I hadn’t expected my dad, Robert, to call me the moment I left. “Alex, they don’t understand, and neither do you. Let’s leave some dignity for everyone involved. Don’t make a scene, okay?” “Tomorrow is Justin’s party. You *must* come.” I just smiled, saying nothing. Liam, my assistant, heard I’d left the family and immediately followed me. “Mr. Lee, we’ll go wherever you go.” 3. Everyone in my team also pledged their support. Justin didn’t know that the reason the family could stand strong in this region wasn’t their so-called long-standing reputation, but *me*, Alex. Still, I had to attend his party. The family spared no expense for the party, holding it at the luxurious Grandwood Estate. All the prominent figures were there, and so was I. Upon arriving, I saw a few of the rich kids I used to socialize with, their faces twisted with a sneer. “Alex? You actually have the nerve to show up! Kicked out by your own family, and you’re still trying to act high and mighty? Aren’t you embarrassed!” “Exactly! This party is such a huge affair, clearly for the real heir. And look at you, all those years of hard work, now you have nothing!” “Why don’t you beg me? Maybe I can give you a job. Our company just happens to need a doorman. You’re not bad-looking, you can stand there. How about eight grand a month?” I scanned them, scoffing. “No wonder your families would rather keep their illegitimate children outside than let *you* take over the company!” The moment I said that, they flushed with anger and were about to rush me when Justin appeared. They immediately quieted down. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend our party. We’ve finally found our long-lost son, Justin! From now on, we will fully compensate Justin!” Justin, dressed in a sharp suit, slowly walked onto the stage. After just a few days, he was visibly more ‘regal.’ His forced posture, however, made him look a bit awkward, like his head was too heavy for his body. Meeting my gaze, Justin puffed out his chest. “Although Alex isn’t our biological son, he’s been with the company for many years, and I’m willing to let him continue working there.” “Alex, stop being angry with Mom and Dad!” The moment Justin said that, everyone around turned to look at me, their eyes full of mockery and disdain. I curled my lips into a smile. “No thanks. I’m not short on cash.” “Alex really isn’t short on cash. Unlike me, who had a terrible life when I was out there, but I never gave up on learning.” “Alex, if possible, I hope you can stay on, even if it’s just working for *me*!” Mom and Dad also came to my side. “Alex, I won’t argue with you about moving out, but your brother is right. The family raised you for so many years, it’s time for you to give back.” I raised an eyebrow. “In ten years, I transformed this family from a prominent family into a top-tier powerhouse. Do you think I haven’t given back enough?” “Work for you? I, Alex, only work for myself. If a boss can’t handle me, they shouldn’t expect me to work my butt off for them. *You* taught me that, Mr. Robert!” At my words, Dad’s face turned ashen. The relatives nearby murmured, their voices dripping with sarcasm. “Look at how arrogant he is, still acting like the eldest son!” “Without the family, what is he? How dare he talk big!” “Justin, I think you’re just too soft. Kick him out sooner! He’s occupied your place for so long and still shows no gratitude!” Justin stood high and mighty, his eyes full of triumph. I smiled. *This idiot actually thinks these people genuinely care about him?* I scoffed. “You don’t need to kick me out. I’ll leave. But you need to remember, the moment I walk out that door today, from now on, I have no connection to this family whatsoever!” “Alex!” Dad was furious, but then he sighed. “Don’t blame us for being heartless. Your temper needs to be reined in.” “Alright then. Go ahead and announce it. Publicly acknowledge that Justin is the one in power!” “I’m out!” With that, I turned and walked away, immediately sending out a message that I was cutting all ties with the family. Seeing me leave, Justin got angry. “Dad, Alex is being too petty, isn’t he? He…” Before he could finish, Robert’s phone rang. Not just his, but cell phones across the room started ringing, one after another. “What?! MC only recognizes Alex?! The contract is void!”

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My daughter, Lily, has a severe peanut allergy. But my brother-in-law, Jax, secretly tricked her into eating peanuts. I didn’t hesitate for a second. I hailed the first car I saw and told the driver, “Hospital, now!” In my previous life, when Lily had an allergic reaction, I frantically called my wife, Serena. Serena had been incredibly reluctant. She was at Jax’s graduation ceremony and only came back after I practically begged. But I never imagined that Jax would encounter assailants on his way home that very night and die on the spot. Serena handled Jax’s funeral with unsettling calm. She just told me he’d had bad luck. The following year, on the anniversary of Jax’s death, Serena poisoned my food. As I lay dying, I heard her venomous voice: “You bastard! You poisoned our daughter just to stop me from going to Jax’s graduation!” “You deserve to die. Go atone for your sins to him!” Lily and I died with our eyes wide open, consumed by injustice. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lily had her allergic reaction.

I scooped Lily into my arms. This was an emergency; I couldn’t afford to waste a single thought. I rushed her downstairs. Lily’s reaction came on fast. Rashes spread across her body, and she went into shock within minutes. It was the same in my last life. I was completely out of my mind with panic. I immediately called Serena. Serena initially refused to come. She insisted Lily couldn’t possibly have an allergy; it was just a common cold. I begged and pleaded, and she finally, reluctantly, came back. But it was that very decision that led both Lily and me to our demise. This time, I wasn’t going to beg Serena for help. Instead, I flagged down a car on the street. Halfway there, we saw an Audi parked in the emergency lane. Other drivers, hearing there was a patient in our car, gave way, but the Audi remained stubbornly in place. Our driver honked furiously, but the Audi didn’t budge. The driver cursed, “Damn it! This jerk is doing it on purpose!” Sweat poured down my face. Looking at Lily, her face ghostly pale, my heart ached beyond words. All I could do was try some basic first aid on Lily. Just then, my phone rang. It was Serena. “Oh, so you like playing games, huh? Not going to call me this time? Fine, then you can just rot in that car!” I froze. The Audi blocking the emergency lane… it was Serena’s doing. I roared into the phone, “Serena, are you insane?! This is your own daughter! She’s dying! What kind of monster are you?” A cold laugh echoed from the other end. “Hmph, don’t play the victim. You think I don’t know your little schemes? You just want to ruin Jax’s graduation, don’t you? I’m sick of you, Leo!” Jax’s voice then chimed in. “Leo, can’t you just let me have my graduation? I promise, after this, I’ll give Serena back to you.” “You monster!” My whole body trembled with rage. “We’re stuck in the emergency lane because of the car you called! If you have even an ounce of humanity left, move that car, now!” “Don’t give me that crap. You won’t get your way today. I just want you to taste what it’s like to be messed with.” With that, Serena hung up. I stared at the unconscious Lily, my anxiety mounting with every second. The driver anxiously said, “Was that your wife? You need to make her move that car!” I wiped away my tears and called Serena again. But this time, Jax answered. “Leo, Serena’s busy. Just tell me what you need.” “Let her answer the phone.” “Can’t do that. Serena’s very busy.” I screamed, “Tell her to get that Audi moved!” Jax chuckled softly on the other end. “Even more impossible. Serena said if you got out, you’d just come ruin my graduation. You can just stay in the car for a while.” With that, Jax hung up. The driver was already frantic. He was trying to ram the Audi to clear a path. But the Audi was fighting back, reversing hard against us. The driver cursed, “That son of a bitch!” Left with no choice, the driver called the police again, but they were taking forever. My panic reached a fever pitch. “No, this can’t wait! Lily’s condition is critical. If we don’t get her help now, it’ll be too late!” Last time, Lily had made it to the hospital. Was this second chance going to be even worse? I had no other option. I got out of the car, trying to communicate with the Audi driver. I rushed over and knocked on the Audi’s window. The window slowly rolled down, revealing a familiar face. It was Brianna, Serena’s best friend.

“Brianna, please move the car! Lily is in danger right now!” Brianna grinned, shaking her head. I anxiously reached out to pull her, but she suddenly rolled the window back up. My hand was caught, and a scream of pain ripped from my throat. Brianna, with a malicious smirk, said, “What are you doing? Trying to stage an accident?” By now, other drivers were watching the spectacle. Some started speaking up for me. “There’s a patient in the car behind you! Move it!” “Seriously, you’re putting someone’s life at risk!” Brianna suddenly flung open her car door. I lost my balance, stumbled, and fell. She savored the sight of my humiliation, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Everyone, it’s not that I don’t want to move, but this man’s daughter is perfectly fine.” “His daughter just has a common cold. He’s making such a big fuss just to compete with his brother-in-law, using little girl as an excuse.” Brianna’s words hung in the air, and the gazes directed at me were filled with disdain. I couldn’t bother to explain. I tried to pull her, to make her see for herself. She pushed me away with surprising force. “Gross! Don’t touch me. I don’t know why Serena ever married a jealous man like you, jealous even of her own brother!” “No! Lily really is having an allergic reaction! If you don’t believe me, go look!” I couldn’t even get up. I just lay there on the ground, pleading with her. Then, my driver came over. “Ma’am, please move your car! That child looks really unwell, her face is as white as a sheet!” Brianna first frowned, then smiled knowingly. “Wow, I really underestimated you. You even hired someone to act with you.” I looked at Brianna’s unyielding, maliciously speculative face, filled with a mixture of desperate urgency and furious anger. “Brianna, this is a matter of life and death! How can you be so cold-blooded? This is a living, breathing child! Aren’t you afraid of karma?” Most people, after hearing Brianna, still looked at me and the driver with suspicion. Some even started agreeing with Brianna, accusing me of wasting public resources. “People nowadays, making up drama with their daughters over trivial conflicts. Truly disgusting.” “Exactly, it’s outrageous.” Faced with these baseless accusations, my heart was burning with anxiety, yet I was utterly unable to defend myself. Lily was in critical condition in the car. Every second of delay could mean her life. And yet, here I was, trapped in this ridiculous argument with Brianna. The driver anxiously told Brianna, “Ma’am, you’ve really misunderstood. The child looks very serious. Any more delay could be life-threatening.” Perhaps the driver’s expression was too serious, because Brianna started to waver. She quickly called Serena. “What’s going on? Are you sure it’s not an allergy?” “Of course not! I saw Lily coughing this morning when I left. If she had an allergy, how could I leave her?” To convince Brianna, Serena didn’t hesitate to lie. Brianna nodded, satisfied, and hung up. When she turned back to me and the driver, her contempt deepened. “Hmph, you two are quite the double act, very convincing. But I see right through you. You just want to trick me into moving the car. No way!” My emotions completely snapped. I desperately grabbed at Brianna, wanting her to see Lily’s horrifying state with her own eyes. “Go see! See how bad my daughter is!” Brianna stood perfectly still. Just as we were at an impasse, a police car suddenly sped up, sirens wailing. The traffic cops had finally arrived at the scene.

After assessing the situation, the officer sternly told Brianna, “Ma’am, please move your vehicle immediately.” Brianna still tried to argue, pointing at me and the driver. “Officer, these two are ganging up to trick me! They’re saying the child has an allergy, but it’s just a common cold. They’re wasting medical resources!” The officer frowned, then looked at me. My face was streaked with tears. I desperately pleaded, “Officer, please, believe us! My daughter is almost gone. Any later, and it will be too late!” The officer realized the gravity of the situation and ignored Brianna’s nonsense. He decisively directed other officers to forcibly tow the Audi out of the emergency lane. Brianna was also taken away by the police for obstructing traffic. Our car was finally able to move, speeding like a whirlwind towards the hospital. But when we arrived, I received devastating news. The hospital’s allergy emergency equipment was undergoing comprehensive maintenance and was temporarily out of service. This sudden news hit me like a bolt of lightning, plunging me once again into the depths of despair. This hadn’t happened in my previous life. It was Serena. It had to be her. She was one of the investors in this hospital. “How can this be? What about my daughter? She can’t wait!” I gripped the doctor’s arm, my voice cracking with tears. The doctor anxiously said, “I… I don’t know what to do.” I felt like I’d been instantly dragged into the deepest pit of hell. The doctor was also very worried. “We can try some existing basic medications to start initial anti-allergy treatment and alleviate the symptoms, but this is only a temporary measure. The situation is still very critical.” I looked at Lily, unconscious and breathing faintly on the hospital bed. My heart was ablaze with fear, and I could only nod in agreement. The doctors quickly sprang into action, treating Lily with intense focus. During this, I immediately called the relevant department to file a complaint. To make them take it seriously, I lied, saying the hospital was deliberately withholding allergy emergency equipment because I had offended them. The department took it seriously and promised to investigate quickly and give me a response. Receiving that reply, I finally let out a shaky breath. Time ticked by, second by agonizing second, each one feeling like an entire year. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Serena. “How does it feel? Pretty good to be toyed with, huh?” “Why are you doing this? You know Lily has an allergy!” Serena’s low laugh, like a demon’s whisper, came from the other end. “So what? She’s a bastard child. Don’t think I don’t know, she’s not even my kid.” I froze. Lily was conceived through IVF, using Serena’s and my own cells. She was doubting that? No wonder she had been so cruel to Lily and me in my previous life. I anxiously said, “She really is your daughter! Please, you have to save her!” “Shut up, you poisonous husband! Jax already secretly got a paternity test for me. Lily and I have no blood relation whatsoever!” Jax. It was Jax again. Did he really hate Lily and me that much? I clutched my phone, my heart a twisted knot of anger and despair. “Serena, you just believe your brother like that?” “I only believe evidence. Could a paternity test be fake? You and your bastard Lily can just rot!” With that, she hung up. I slumped to the ground, overcome with grief. Just then, the doctor hurried out of the emergency room. The doctor’s face was grim. “The child’s condition is very critical. If we don’t get allergy emergency equipment soon, it’s possible…” The doctor didn’t finish, but I understood his unspoken words. Just as I was about to sink into utter despair, my phone abruptly rang again.

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When billionaire Brett Thorne found me, I was literally rolling up my sleeves, about to sell my blood to save my mother. “A hundred million dollars. Have my child, and there’ll be a bonus on top.” He said. Staring at the colossal sum on the agreement, I signed without a moment’s hesitation. A year later, I successfully gave birth to triplets. Gazing at my two adorable baby boys and one girl, tears welled in my eyes as I clutched my bag, ready to leave. Brett grabbed my arm, pulling me back into his embrace. “Chloe, are you really that heartless? You got the money, and now you just want to run?” His reddened eyes confused me. Hadn’t I done everything exactly as the agreement stipulated? But before I could even answer, His childhood sweetheart, Valentina, stormed in, radiating fury. “Sign it. I’ll get your mother the best medical team.” Brett Thorne, the most powerful man in the city, held no warmth in his icy expression as he pushed a document toward me. My body trembled as I read the bold words: *Surrogacy Agreement*. I was twenty-two, single, and had never even held a guy’s hand. But I had no choice. My mother was still in the ICU. I picked up the pen and signed the agreement, gritting my teeth. It’s just one child, right? I’ll just grit my teeth and do it. Seeing my signature, Brett’s cool voice broke the silence. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep this absolutely confidential. After the birth, if you wish to continue your studies, I can send you abroad.” “However, from then on, this child will have nothing to do with you. You mustn’t try to get involved, because I already have someone I love.” He seemed worried about something, emphasizing that last part. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why, if he had a beloved, he wasn’t having a baby with her. Looking at his deep eyes, his noble and detached expression… well, the world of the super-rich was truly beyond my comprehension. They probably ordered everything on the menu, while I was lucky to afford a single entree. My job was just to take the money and do what was asked. Even though my heart ached a little as I accepted the check, I was still incredibly happy. My mother was saved. No sooner had we settled the details than the doctor informed me that my mother had been transferred to the best monitoring unit, with specialists from New York consulting on her case. I couldn’t help but glance at Brett with gratitude. No wonder he was the city’s richest man; his efficiency was unmatched. My mother’s surgery went smoothly. Brett arranged for two nurses to care for her, and naturally, I returned to his estate with him. That evening, after dinner, I showered and, feeling incredibly nervous, sat on the edge of the bed. My hands were gripping the silk sheets so tightly, they almost shredded into tassels. It wasn’t until Mrs. Davis, the housekeeper, brought in a special health tonic that I learned Brett had gone to see Valentina, his childhood sweetheart. I cautiously asked Mrs. Davis and found out that Brett and Valentina had grown up together. Brett doted on her immensely; she was the “loved one” he’d mentioned. But Valentina, spoiled rotten, had no desire to marry or have children. She had publicly declared her decision to be child-free, as children would interfere with her enjoying life. Brett’s father had a health scare and wanted to see a grandchild soon, but Valentina absolutely refused to marry or have a baby at this time. So, Brett started looking for other options, eventually finding that my genes were the cleanest, and my physical constitution was excellent. I collapsed onto the bed, utterly deflated. I’d actually thought my extraordinary looks had attracted the CEO. Turns out, my reproductive system was just ‘high quality.’ Brett left me alone in the mansion for a week, not appearing once. Meanwhile, Mrs. Davis meticulously prepared a variety of nourishing meals for me every day. Finally, on the eighth evening, I’d showered and was happily lounging in bed, watching a show, when Brett suddenly pushed the door open. “Today is your ovulation period. We can proceed.” Brett entered, immediately taking off his jacket and loosening his tie, while I stared at him in surprise. I’d been enjoying these past few quiet days so much that I’d completely forgotten our arrangement. Brett walked over and gently gripped my chin. I nervously swallowed. That night, there wasn’t a single word exchanged. All I knew was that Brett had incredible stamina, keeping me entangled with him for five intense rounds. By the last time, I was furious. I bit down hard on his shoulder. It was the first time I heard him gasp, uttering a soft reprimand, “Are you a dog? Biting people like that.”

The next day, I woke up, and the sun was already pouring into the room. I clutched my aching lower back as I shuffled to the dining table, eating the toast Mrs. Davis had brought. In my mind, I cursed Brett a thousand times. Did having a baby have to be this torturous? Wasn’t one time enough? He must have felt like he got shortchanged and wanted to make up for it. Just as I was aggressively poking a piece of bread, imagining it was Brett, a shrill voice cut through the front door. “So you’re the little slut who climbed into Brett’s bed?” Before I could even stand up to see her face, she was already in front of me, delivering a sharp slap across my face. “Slut! Don’t play innocent. You just deliberately waited at the hospital, pretending to be pitiful to get Brett’s attention.” I froze, dumbfounded. When did I ever wait at a hospital to seduce Brett? Could I even *seduce* someone like him? I started to get angry. Yesterday, I was exhausted and sore, and this morning, I was greeted with a slap across the face. This was too much. I was a twenty-first-century college student, not their slave. Okay, I admit I felt a little like a slave. Thinking that, I actually teared up from sheer frustration. “Valentina, I don’t know what I did to upset you, but what gives you the right to just barge in and hit me?” Valentina arrogantly tilted her head, her hand raised again. “What gives me the right? The right that Brett is *my* man, and you’re just some shameless hussy?” But the slap didn’t land. Instead, I heard Brett’s urgent voice. “Valentina, stop it!” Brett burst in, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back. “Didn’t we agree? Why are you here, laying hands on her?” Valentina roared back, “Are you actually falling for her? Why did you stay here all night yesterday?” Brett’s gaze darkened, falling on my swollen face. He finally lowered his voice. “I was just too tired yesterday, and I fell asleep.” He then pulled Valentina into his arms. “There, there. It won’t happen again. You know how I feel about you, don’t you? You also know Grandpa’s pushing for a child.” Seeing Brett soften his voice to appease her, Valentina finally smiled, satisfied. “Then I want shrimp, and you have to peel them for me.” Brett nodded, tapping her forehead. “Fine, I’ll peel them. But no more hitting anyone.” “And you’re not allowed to stay here overnight anymore!” The two of them walked out the door, talking. As she stepped through the doorway, Valentina glanced back at me with a mocking, disdainful look, her smile full of arrogant scorn. A sudden pang of sadness hit me, and I couldn’t help but touch my burning cheek. Once upon a time, I was my mother’s precious darling. She’d save both drumsticks for me when she made chicken stew, braid my hair beautifully, and tell me I was the prettiest little princess. That night, Brett didn’t come home. Instead, he sent a pile of gifts: from designer dresses to diamond necklaces and watches. I didn’t feel excited. I just quietly put them away in the closet. I shouldn’t have been upset, but I couldn’t help feeling sad. Sigh. I’d only had two good days, and now I was being melodramatic. It was just a slap and a few insults; it wasn’t a big deal. Thinking that, I touched the damp corner of my eye and asked Mrs. Davis to make me some more chicken soup, which I gobbled down two big bowls of.

Brett returned three days later. He just stared longingly as I drank my chicken soup, not saying a word. I quickly stood up to ladle him a bowl, awkwardly saying, “I made it. If you’re not picky, give it a try.” Brett immediately sat down, took a spoonful, and tasted it. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he chuckled softly. “Not bad at all. It smells delicious.” Mrs. Davis chimed in at just the right moment. “Mr. Thorne, Chloe isn’t just good at soup. Her fish is excellent, and her steaks are even better than mine.” As she spoke, she brought out the fish I had just prepared. Brett, intrigued, picked up a piece of fish with his fork. His eyes narrowed again, and he took several more bites. “Amazing. Better than any five-star restaurant. The meat is tender and full of natural flavor.” I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. “I marinated this fish in aromatics for thirty minutes, making sure to gently scrape off any surface slime. Then I pan-fried it on medium heat for five minutes, added a dash of soy sauce and caramel color, and let it simmer for half a minute before adding water and boiling it rapidly for ten minutes to reduce the sauce.” Perhaps to humor me, Brett actually finished two bowls of rice and two bowls of chicken soup with the fish. That night, after showering, I tucked myself into bed, assuming he’d just digest for a bit and then leave. But moments later, he walked in, wrapped only in a towel. I immediately tensed up, looking at Brett and stammering, “Brett, it’s only been three days. It’s too soon to tell. We need a few more days.” As I spoke, I pulled the blanket tighter and scooted back. Brett didn’t say anything. He just walked to the bed, sat down, gently gripped my chin, and softly stroked my cheek. “Does it still hurt?” “Valentina has been spoiled rotten. Don’t hold it against her.” He then reached out and pulled me into his arms. Feeling the warmth of his chest, my tears suddenly flowed, uncontrollable. Agreeing to be a surrogate for money had already left me tossing and turning every night. And then to be slapped and called a slut, utterly powerless to refute it. These were all facts. Feeling my tears, Brett sighed above my head, then his lips, warm and tender, pressed against mine. He nibbled, little by little, slowly exploring my mouth. Brett gently kissed me again and again, until the breath was completely drawn from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air. This time, Brett once again physically demonstrated his impressive stamina. In my anger, I refused to give in easily, but ultimately, I was defeated and sank into a deep sleep. When I opened my eyes again, it was already bright outside. I turned my head and my eyes widened. “You haven’t gone to the office yet?” Before Brett could answer, Valentina’s furious shout echoed from downstairs. “Brett Thorne, you bastard!” Then came a crash, likely a piece of porcelain breaking in the living room. My beautiful flowers, which I’d just bought yesterday afternoon, were probably ruined. I quickly dressed and got out of bed, like a mistress caught in the act, urging Brett. Before we could even get downstairs, Valentina stormed up. She rushed over, grabbed my hair, threw me to the floor, and then kicked me. This time, I heard Brett’s furious roar. “Valentina, what are you doing?!” Brett said, pulling Valentina away and shielding me behind him. Valentina was enraged. “Brett Thorne, you’re yelling at me for this cheap slut?!” Brett’s face darkened. “Valentina, can you stop being so unreasonable? She’s just having a child for us, and *you agreed to it*.” Valentina threw herself into Brett’s arms, flailing wildly. “Do you really need a child so badly?!” “Brett Thorne, you’re nothing but a stud! You just want to sleep with women! Tell me, are you tired of me? Looking for someone gentler?” As she spoke, she tried to kick me again, over Brett’s shoulder. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to! You cheap sluts who sleep for money always use every seductive trick in the book to lure men like Brett! Have you no shame?!” Seeing her words grow uglier and uglier, Brett pushed her away, roaring, “Valentina, that’s enough! Do you have any class at all?!” Valentina yelped as she fell to the floor, then glared at Brett with a twisted expression. “Brett Thorne, you bastard! You actually hit me for this slut!” “I’m breaking up with you!” With that, she grabbed a high heel and hurled it at Brett, then burst into tears and ran downstairs.

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I brought my three-month-old son and husband home for Christmas. But my ten-year-old niece, Claudia, and her friend threw my son from an upstairs window. I frantically scooped him up, my mind screaming for the hospital, but it was too late. He died right there. Because Claudia was so young, she faced no punishment. The judge ordered Claudia’s family to pay eight hundred thousand, but Claudia twisted it, claiming I was trying to ruin their lives. I didn’t want compensation; I just wanted my baby back! I sobbed until my chest felt ripped open, demanding justice. My husband, Owen, and his mother, Mrs. Miller, just lashed out at me: “ Claudia is just a child! Are you really going to destroy her life just because *your* son is gone?” My quest for revenge was futile, and eventually, a heart attack claimed me that winter. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on Christmas Day. I immediately called my parents and had them take Kalan away. But this time, Claudia still killed a baby! Whose baby was it?

The moment I’d sent Kalan off with my parents and stepped into Mrs. Miller’s yard, a deafening crash echoed in my ears. “BANG!” A tightly swaddled baby hit the tiled floor. Blood slowly stained the blanket red. I stared, frozen, then lifted my gaze. Upstairs, Claudia gave me a defiant look before she vanished. Owen and Mrs. Miller rushed out at the sound. Mrs. Miller screamed, her legs buckling beneath her. Owen staggered over, trembling, and glanced at the infant. “Cassie, the baby… the baby isn’t breathing.” I couldn’t even bring myself to look. I sprinted upstairs. Claudia had locked herself in a room. I kicked the door hard. “ Claudia! Open this door! Who did you throw down?!” There was no answer from inside, but I could hear her and her friend giggling. “ Claudia, what if they call the cops? My mom won’t hit me, will she?” “Nah, we didn’t mean to, right? Besides, the police don’t arrest minors.” Those fearless words pierced my ears like thorns. I couldn’t stop trembling. I slammed my entire weight against the wooden door. “Get out here! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! This is murder!” Owen, who had just arrived, quickly grabbed me. His eyes were bloodshot. “Cassie, calm down. Don’t scare them.” My eyes, filled with pure hatred, locked onto him. It was just like the last life. Our son was dead, and he was still worried about scaring Claudia. Mrs. Miller wiped away tears. “ Claudia went too far this time, but you don’t have to be so unforgiving.” “The baby was only three months old. He’s gone, so he’s gone. You two can just try for another.” I froze, utterly stunned. It took a moment for their words to register. They thought it was my son who had died. But I had just given my son to my parents. Whose tiny body was lying downstairs?

Owen came up and hugged me, swearing: “Cassie, I promise I’ll get justice for our son, but Claudia is still young and doesn’t understand…” Before he could finish, I shoved him away. “What do you mean? If she’s so clueless, why doesn’t she jump herself?” With that, I grabbed a chair and slammed it violently against the door. The wooden door rattled and groaned, shaking the entire house. “ Claudia, get out here, or I’ll smash this door down!” How dare she kill someone and get away with it? Even if it wasn’t my child who died today, I would still fight for justice for him! Seeing how hard I was hitting it, Claudia yelled from inside: “Stop smashing! If you keep going, I’ll jump!” I was panting from the effort. I turned, rushed to the kitchen, and grabbed a knife, hacking it into the door. The blade bit deep into the wood, stuck fast. “Jump then! If you don’t, I’m coming in there and I’ll kill you myself!” Claudia couldn’t stand the pressure. She opened the door, a look of impatience on her face. “Who did you throw down?” She tilted her head, swaying casually. “Your son, who else?” I slapped her across the face. *Smack!* Her head snapped to the side. Claudia’s eyes immediately filled with tears. She clutched her cheek, disbelief warring on her face. “How dare you hit me? My own mom doesn’t even hit me, you bitch—” I slapped her again. “It’s because your mom *doesn’t* hit you that you turned into an animal!” Then, I grabbed her collar, snarling through gritted teeth. “I’m asking you one more time. Who did you throw down?” Claudia quieted down, still clutching her face. “It was your son, but I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to see what would happen if he fell.” “I didn’t think he’d actually die.” —

I peered into the room. The window was open, letting in a chilling blast of cold air. Claudia’s friend was cowering by the bed, too scared to say a word. They were old enough for elementary school. How could they not know the danger? Owen tried to reason with me. “ Claudia has already apologized, Cassie. You’ve let out your anger. Let’s just bury the baby.” The absurdity of it all struck me. A human life was gone, and an apology was all it took? Mrs. Miller rushed over and tightly hugged Claudia, tenderly stroking her face, murmuring: “You hit her so hard, her face is all red.” Her face was only red from my slap, but that baby had lost his entire life! I roughly pushed Mrs. Miller away, then grabbed Claudia’s hair and dragged her toward the window. “You didn’t know what would happen if he fell, right? Why don’t you try it yourself?” Claudia screamed, terrified, struggling against me. “No! I don’t want to! I’ll die if I fall! You’ll go to jail if I die! To jail!” So she knew about jail, yet she still did it. For two lifetimes, I couldn’t comprehend how a child’s mind could be so wicked! A sharp pain shot up my arm as Owen forcefully pulled me away. The momentum sent me crashing headfirst into the wall. A streak of crimson liquid ran down the plaster. Owen shielded Claudia, his face etched with disgust. “Are you ever going to stop? Our son is dead. Why are you picking a fight with a child? Why didn’t you watch him better?” Both Owen and Mrs. Miller stood in front of Claudia, watching me defensively. In my last life, I finally understood. They were the true family, bound by blood. My three-month-old son and I meant nothing. I clutched my forehead, my hand shaking as I pulled out my phone to call the police. But Owen kicked my phone, sending it flying. “This is a family matter! What are you calling the police for?!” “ Claudia isn’t eighteen yet. It’s useless to call the police anyway.” I pushed myself up against the wall, looking at him with utter disappointment. “Your son is dead. And you don’t care?” Seeing the blood on my forehead, a flicker of remorse crossed Owen’s eyes. “Cassie, we can always have more children.” “But I… I only have one niece.”

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I was born with a heart condition. Doctors said I wouldn’t live past eighteen. When I was ten, my parents brought home a blind child, telling me she was my twin sister, Iris. My family doted on me relentlessly, yet they were always distant and cold towards Iris. Everyone whispered that Iris was here to give me her heart. I tried desperately to be good to this sister who looked exactly like me, hoping to soothe the guilt gnawing at my conscience. Finally, my eighteenth birthday arrived. I lay on the operating table. But what they took wasn’t my heart. It was my corneas. I died. Iris gained sight. The moment the heart rate monitor shrieked, I thought my life was over. My mind flashed through countless memories, finally settling on the first time I pulled open the door and saw Iris. The day Iris arrived, I was sipping my imported medication, curled up on the huge cashmere sofa in the living room. The door opened, letting in a whiff of dusty countryside air. She stood at the entrance. Dark and thin, like a wild weed. Her clothes were old, and she clutched a worn cloth bag in her hand. Her eyes were a hazy gray, like mine, yet completely different. “This is your sister, Iris.” Mom said, her voice flat, not reaching out to her. Iris said nothing, her head bowed. I quickly realized Mom didn’t seem to like this sister. Looking at this child, who was practically my mirror image, a strange tightness gripped my chest. From that day on, I gave her everything I had. New dresses, imported chocolates, my favorite plush bunny. She got the small, north-facing room, while I had the larger one. Everyone in the family clustered around me, laughing and talking. At dinner, they always made sure the best portions were on my plate. When it came to Iris, Mom would just say, “She can serve herself.” Her tone was so flat, so indifferent. I knew they loved me. It was because of my heart condition. Not living past eighteen was my biggest secret. When I was ten, my parents brought Iris home, claiming she was my twin sister, and she couldn’t see. They told me Iris was a gift from above. Everyone quietly informed me that Iris existed so I could live. I believed them. So I tried my hardest to be good to Iris. I wanted to make amends, to compensate for everything with all I had. Maria, our housekeeper, once muttered behind their backs, “Miss Aubrey is the darling, Miss Iris is just a nobody.” I heard her, and I gave Iris things even more often. One time, I held her hand, guiding her slowly through the house. “The curtains, they’re velvet.” “The vase, it’s glass, cool to the touch.” I led her to touch the piano. A jarring note startled her, making her flinch, but then curiosity quickly drew her hand back to explore. That afternoon, we sat on the carpet in my room. The sunlight was beautiful. For some reason, I suddenly took her hand and gently placed it over my left chest. “Iris, feel this,” I smiled, “That’s a heartbeat.” Her small hand was a little cool, resting there quietly. After a moment, she took my hand and placed it on her own chest. Thump. Thump. It beat steadily and strongly. Completely unlike my own fragile heart. I froze. We shared the same blood, the same face, even our heartbeats echoed a similar rhythm. But my heart was dying. And she, who was so vibrantly alive, couldn’t see a thing. I squeezed her hand, a sudden ache gripping my heart. That phrase, which had haunted me for years—”Iris is here so I can live”— Felt like a thorn, piercing me with agonizing pain. In that moment, my heart wavered. Was all this “goodness” I showered on her truly saving her, or was I… killing her?

My memories grew hazy, blurring into a chaotic darkness where I thought I heard voices. “It’s done.” A calm male voice, tinged with post-surgery fatigue. “Very smooth.” Another voice responded. They were the doctors. So… the surgery was a success! I was alive! Iris’s heart was beating in my chest. This realization brought tears to my eyes. But the next second, a crushing wave of guilt washed over me. It was Iris… the one who always quietly followed me, the one with a healthy heart, who had given hers to me. What about her? Was she alright? I used every ounce of my consciousness to try and open my eyes, to take one last look at Iris, who must be on the operating table beside me. But my eyelids felt like they were soldered shut, heavy and unmoving. Only endless darkness, and the increasingly clear voices in my ears. “Finally, a weight off our shoulders.” Mom’s voice carried through the operating room door. “Yeah,” Dad responded, pausing for a moment before saying, “Eight years, finally paid off.” My heart gave a soft tremor. Eight years… was it for me to live? They must have suffered so much too. Now they could finally breathe a sigh of relief. I struggled to get up, focusing my will against the darkness before my eyes. Light flooded in, and I instinctively turned my head, looking at the other operating table beside me. Iris lay quietly on it, her eyes bandaged, but her chest rose and fell gently with her breathing. She… she was alive! Thank goodness, we both made it. This realization brought me a bewildered sense of relief. The doctors must have found another suitable heart donor at the last minute. Fate, after all, was finally kind to us. “Iris…” I mumbled, stumbling off the bed and toward Iris, wanting to apologize to her. I reached out, but my fingertips passed right through her hand resting on the bed’s edge, without any resistance. No warmth, no substance. I looked down at my hands, now faintly transparent, and finally understood my current state. Turning back, on the operating table I had just risen from, a white sheet already covered it, outlining a human form. I walked over and gently lifted it. The “me” beneath had pure white bandages over her eyes, looking as if she were just peacefully sleeping. So, I… I didn’t survive the surgery after all? I looked at my transparent hands, then at Iris’s bandaged eyes. No, it couldn’t be. Mom and Dad loved me so much, how could they… But that phrase, “eight years, finally paid off,” now echoed with a jarring harshness. The operating room door opened. Medical staff entered, skillfully moving Iris’s gurney out. I silently followed alongside. My parents waited outside the door. They immediately rushed forward. Mom gently stroked Iris’s hair. Dad quietly asked the doctor, “Will she… be able to see soon?” “The surgery was a complete success. She’ll regain her sight after recovery.” They wore smiles of relief I had never seen before, as if losing a daughter was something to celebrate. Mom and Dad walked slowly with the gurney down the hospital corridor. They never once looked back. I stood alone in the empty hallway, watching their backs disappear into the light at the far end. Despite a pang of loss, I was happy for them. Iris’s eyes were finally healed. On such a joyous day, seeing my corpse would be bad luck. They could finally start a new life. No longer worried about me, this ailing child, no longer counting down the days with bated breath. A moment later, an orderly came in and turned the gurney carrying my body in another direction. “So young, what a pity.” “I heard her corneas were donated to her sister.” The gurney wheels rolled smoothly, echoing down the cold corridor, heading toward the morgue. So that was it. I hadn’t received a heart; I had given my eyes. My death, in exchange for Iris’s sight.

When I drifted into the hospital room, Mom was carefully moistening Iris’s lips with a cotton swab. Dad stood by the bed, his gaze fixed on Iris’s bandaged eyes— That intense focus, I had experienced it, or so I thought, and yet, it felt alien now. He was rarely home back then. Even when he was, he mostly stayed in his study. For me, he almost always gave me whatever I asked for. No matter what it was, if I mentioned it, it would appear by my bedside the next day. I once thought he was naturally serious, that men simply didn’t know how to express love. Because his gaze towards me always held a veil of impenetrable distance. Now, that barrier had suddenly vanished. A few days later, the bandages were removed. Iris opened her eyes and softly called out, “Dad.” Just that one word, and my father’s eyes welled up. He pulled her into a tight hug, his shoulders trembling slightly. I had called him “Dad” countless times, always met with a controlled smile. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get emotional; he just never got emotional for me. Back home, there was no memorial, no photo. The family picture on the mantelpiece was gone, along with the teapot and slippers I’d given them. Everything. All traces of me were wiped clean, with a chilling speed that sent shivers through my translucent form. Perhaps it was for the best. They wouldn’t have to grieve over my things. People had to move on, right? “Welcome home.” Dad held Iris’s hand, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. He led her through every corner, as if she were the true owner of this house. Finally, they stopped at my old room. It was empty, the walls stark white—freshly painted. “This will be your art studio,” Mom said, her voice filled with anticipation. “You mentioned wanting to learn painting before.” Iris nodded gently. I remembered when Iris had mentioned wanting to paint, Mom had dismissed her, saying, “There’s no spare room.” So swift, so definite. It wasn’t that she lied. She was just waiting— Waiting for me to leave, waiting for Iris to see again. But how could a blind person be so keen on painting? The question flickered, then I quickly pushed it down. Iris could see now; it was perfectly normal for her to want to paint. Watching Mom gently stroke Iris’s hair, an incredibly blurry fragment flashed through my mind. It was like when I was very young, Mom had touched my head like that, humming a song. Dad brought a picture book and sat beside Iris. “Look, these are Monet’s Water Lilies. Aren’t the colors beautiful?” His fingers gently traced the pages, his eyes soft. I suddenly recalled the art book he gave me for my birthday last year; it had been placed on the highest shelf, still in its wrapping. “Aubrey, your health isn’t good. Don’t strain yourself with such taxing things,” he’d said then. Thinking about it now, he was right. My fragile body shouldn’t have wished for too much. Iris looked up, then suddenly asked, “Would Aubrey have liked these paintings?” The air instantly froze. Mom and Dad’s smiles stiffened. “Don’t mention her.” Mom’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it struck my heart like a tiny hammer. “Your sister, she…” Dad hesitated, finally just patting Iris’s head. “The most important thing now is for your eyes to recover well.” My heart ached slightly, but then I quickly let it go. They were just afraid of upsetting Iris by bringing me up. After all, the surgery had just finished; emotional fluctuations weren’t good for recovery. I watched the three of them sitting in the sunlight, looking so happy and content. This was good. Iris could see, and Mom and Dad no longer had to worry about me. My sacrifice was worth it. Still, for some reason, my chest ached. Even though my heart was no longer beating.

I still lingered in the house where I had lived for eighteen years, while my former family had moved on to a new life. Sounds came from the living room. I drifted over and saw Dad taping an eye chart to the wall. “Come on, Iris, let’s see which line you can read,” he said, his voice filled with expectation and encouragement. Mom stood nearby, wringing her hands nervously. Iris stepped forward and clearly read out the smallest line of symbols. “That’s wonderful!” Mom hugged her tightly, her voice choked with emotion. “It’s all right as long as you can see, it’s all right…” Dad also let out a sigh of relief, gently patting Iris’s back. I stood there, stunned. I remembered last year after my school physical, I’d held up my 20/15 vision report, happily showing it to Dad. He’d just given it a dismissive glance and said, “Take care of your eyes, don’t stare at your phone so much.” At the time, I thought he just wasn’t good at praise. But facing a fully recovered Iris, he was like a completely different person. After dinner, Mom brought out a brand-new photo album. “Iris, let’s organize the old photos and put new ones in later.” Mom’s voice carried a lightness, a sense of starting anew. I floated closer to look. In that thick family album, every photo of me had been removed. Those empty spaces were like silent, gaping holes, mocking my eighteen years of life. Dad was organizing the bookshelves nearby. He stacked all my textbooks, leisure reading, even my award-winning essays, preparing to sell them as scrap paper. Without a moment of hesitation. My awards were still taped to the study wall. He reached out, tore them down, crumpled them into a ball, and tossed them into the cardboard box at his feet. His movements were practiced, as if he were simply cleaning out a dusty old relic. Besides the awards, there was also my first painting from kindergarten. In that drawing, I had used childish strokes to draw our family of three. At the time, Dad had praised my drawing and even bought a frame for it. Now, it was casually tossed into the scrap paper box. Every trace proving my existence was ruthlessly cleared away. Except for the perpetually locked drawer in the study, which remained untouched. I stood right beside Dad, watching him. He didn’t notice me at all. An old photo album I’d never seen before fell from the highest shelf. Dad walked over, picked up the album expressionlessly, and tossed it into the scrap paper box without even looking. “Just some useless old photos,” he said blandly, as if explaining, or perhaps talking to himself. Mom went to prepare Iris’s bedtime milk. She opened the highest cupboard and took out that familiar white medicine bottle— The “imported heart medication” I had taken for eight years. “Does she still need to take this medication?” Dad asked, walking in. “The doctor said to continue for a while to consolidate,” Mom replied. She skillfully poured out two pills, crushed them, and mixed them into the milk. “It’s good for eye recovery.” I froze. Good for eye recovery? As Mom left with the milk, a curled label peeled off the bottle and fluttered to the floor. I instinctively floated closer, reading the original medicine name beneath the faded cover— Corneal Repair Agent. So, for eight years, the medication I took diligently every day wasn’t keeping me alive at all.

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The day before our wedding, my fiancé, Julian, threw my medical report in my face. “You filthy whore. You’ve got HIV. And you hid it from me!” “That’s impossible! There has to be a mistake!” I tried to explain, but he kicked me away, as if I carried a plague he desperately feared catching. After that, I spent three years in a psych ward. When I was finally released, news was everywhere: Julian was getting married. The bride smiling in his arms was Vanessa, the same woman who had done my medical exam three years ago. Vanessa’s triumphant smile blazed from my phone screen, a brand of pure victory. Her wedding dress was a replica of the one Julian had commissioned in Paris for me three years ago. He’d said only a woman as pure and talented as I was deserved something so uniquely white. I had never tried it on. The day before our wedding, a single sheet of paper declared me “HIV Positive.” The media exploded with headlines: “Brilliant Doctor’s Promiscuous Lifestyle Exposed: Diagnosed with HIV, Goes Mad, Attacks People!” “Billionaire Julian’s Fiancée Diagnosed with HIV!” … Even now, you could find photos online of me pinned to the hospital floor by security guards, my face covered in blood. Back then, all I’d wanted was to run to the lab and demand a new test. Instead, I was treated as a violent, rabid thing to be contained. My hands and feet were ice cold, my stomach cramping, making me want to throw up. It was ridiculous. Socially isolated, biologically impossible. In seven years with Julian, I had no vector for infection.. But for three years, I just told myself it was sample contamination or a misdiagnosis. Only now did it all click. There was no misdiagnosis. Vanessa had set me up. No wonder when I tried to get re-tested, Vanessa was the first to scream, claiming I was trying to infect her with HIV! She even twisted the knife in front of the media. “I’d seen Dr. Ava getting cozy with male patients before, and I warned her to uphold medical ethics.” Fist clenched, I thought of all the humiliation I’d endured. My phone vibrated suddenly in my palm. The screen lit up with an unfamiliar text. “Ava, I heard you’re out?” It was Julian. The man who once promised to protect me for life, only to deem me “dirty” and personally send me to a mental asylum. I didn’t reply. I just deleted the message. Outside, the wail of a siren pierced the air. Instinctively, I clutched my head, curling into a ball under the counter, trembling uncontrollably. It was a lingering gift from the psych ward. Even back in the light of day, that sound still triggered me like a terrified animal.

Three years ago, I was St. Jude Medical Center’s prodigy. A twenty-six-year-old attending physician, a candidate for a prestigious overseas fellowship, and engaged to a fiancé everyone envied. My fiancé, Julian, was the Dean’s son, the youngest star surgeon. We were the hospital’s golden couple, praised by everyone. As part of the pre-departure protocol, I underwent the standard battery of tests. The day the results came back, Vanessa, the head nurse, walked into my office. She didn’t offer it. Instead, she fixed me with a look I couldn’t decipher-a fleeting, performative pity drowning in a sea of cold, triumphant scorn. “Dr. Ava, your results… there’s a problem.” I smiled, taking the report. “What problem could there be? I’m perfectly healthy.” Until I saw that line of red text. HIV Antibody: Positive. I stared at the words. I knew them, but my brain couldn’t process their meaning. “This can’t be.” My hand shook, and the report fluttered to the floor. Julian pushed the door open just then. He bent down to pick it up, a smile still on his face. “What’s wrong? Not healthy enough to go abroad?” But when his eyes landed on that line of text, he recoiled three steps, as if burned. His face contorted with a horror and disgust I’d never seen before. The way he looked at me… it was like I was a pile of rotting garbage. “Julian, listen to me, this must be a misdiagnosis, I don’t have…” I instinctively reached out to grab his sleeve. “Don’t touch me!” He violently yanked his arm away, so hard I slammed into the corner of the table. All eyes in the vicinity turned to us. I watched him pull out a disinfectant wipe from his pocket, scrubbing at the spot on his sleeve I’d almost touched. Once, twice, three times. As if it had been contaminated by the filthiest thing on earth. “Julian!” I screamed his name, my voice cracking. He finally stopped, lifting his head. His handsome face was cold and resolute, a look I’d never seen. “Ava, our engagement is off.” “Effective today, you are no longer a member of St. Jude Medical Center’s medical team.” “The hospital’s reputation cannot be stained.” He signed my death warrant in front of everyone. I was kicked out of the hospital, utterly humiliated, like a whipped dog. I fled home like a coward, hoping to grasp my last hope. But my home didn’t want me either. I pushed the key into the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. My parents considered me a disgrace to the family name. They’d changed the locks overnight and tossed my luggage onto the street. No one listened to my explanations. No one believed me. That night, it poured. Homeless, I fell from grace into the mud. I developed a high fever, curled up in a cold alley, my consciousness fading. That’s when Vanessa appeared. She stood over me, holding an umbrella, dressed in a pristine white dress, looking down. “Dr. Ava, how pathetic.” Her lips said ‘pathetic,’ but her eyes glittered with malicious glee. She didn’t help me up. Instead, she took out her phone and snapped several photos of me. The next day, my story was all over the internet. Those photos, paired with sensational headlines like “Brilliant Doctor’s Promiscuous Lifestyle” and “STD Infection from Promiscuity,” nailed me to the pillar of shame. Every denial I made only became desperate, self-incriminating excuses. In despair, I thought of the most drastic way to prove my innocence. In front of everyone, I took a scalpel and deeply slashed my wrist. If my blood was clean, wouldn’t that prove my innocence? Blood stained the white coat Julian had given me. I thought death would clear my name. But Julian just stood there, coldly telling a nurse: “Clean up the blood. Don’t let it infect anyone.”

I didn’t die. I woke up encased in padded walls. No window. Just a single, heavy steel door. Julian had me committed to a psych ward. His reason: severe “persecutory delusions,” marked by “suicidal ideation and violent impulses. A forged diagnostic report was even more damaging than that HIV report. It stripped me of my last bit of agency as a normal person. Every morning at six, I was dragged out of bed. Ice-cold water was sprayed directly onto my face. They called it “physical cooling to eliminate viruses.” I’d huddle in a corner, teeth chattering from the cold. Julian never visited, but he sent boxes and boxes of antiviral drugs. They were HIV post-exposure prophylaxis (PEP). The side effects were brutal. He’d given a strict order: they had to watch me swallow them. Three times a day. The medication made me vomit violently, my hair falling out in clumps. I cried, I screamed, I begged them. “I’m not sick! I really don’t have it! Please, just one re-test!” My pleas, in the doctor’s notes, became another cold, impersonal line: “Patient’s condition is unstable, experiencing hallucinations, and resisting treatment.” Then came the electroshock therapy. As the current surged through my temples, my muscles spasmed uncontrollably. I started losing control of my bladder, drooling, convulsing like a true madwoman. But I still held onto a sliver of hope. I thought, Julian is a germaphobe so he’s just terrified. If only I could see him, if only I could explain… Three months later, Vanessa came. Through the thick glass of the visitation window, she showed me photos on her phone. They were her and Julian’s wedding photos. In the pictures, she wore the exclusive wedding dress I’d dreamed of countless times, smiling sweetly and triumphantly. “Ava, isn’t it beautiful?” “Julian said only someone clean in body and soul deserves to wear this dress.” “And you,” she gestured at my baggy patient gown, “deserve to rot in here.” I lunged at the glass like a madwoman, pounding it with all my might. “I’m not sick, it was a misdiagnosis! Vanessa, please, beg Julian to take me for a re-test!” Vanessa looked at me with pity, like I was a dying ant. “So what if it was a misdiagnosis?” “Ava, do you really think the truth matters?” “The whole world believes that report, and Julian only thinks you’re dirty. Do you think you have any chance of turning things around?” At that moment, I saw a familiar figure at the end of the hallway. Julian had arrived. I desperately pounded the glass, screaming his name. “Julian! Please, take me for a re-test! I’m really not sick!” Julian glanced at me from a distance. He frowned, then turned and walked away. Vanessa turned back to me, mouthing words: “He doesn’t want to see anything dirty.” In that moment, the light in my heart went out.

From that day on, I stopped fighting. I knew that here, being lucid was a crime. I wanted to survive. I stopped crying, stopped trying to explain. Whatever the orderlies told me to do, I did. When the doctors gave me medication, I swallowed it obediently. They all thought I had finally been “cured,” transformed into an obedient, soulless puppet. But they didn’t know. Every time I took my medication, I’d hide in a blind spot from the cameras, stick my fingers down my throat, and throw it all back up. To keep myself from going mad, I replayed surgical procedures in my mind, over and over again. Every incision, every stitch. I had to live. Live and walk out of this place. Then, I would uncover everything and clear my name. Three years. Over a thousand days and nights. I endured the withdrawal symptoms, the psychological torture. The hospital eventually declared me “stable, no longer aggressive.” I was finally “recovered” and discharged. No one came to pick me up on discharge day. I just thought I was unlucky, a victim of misdiagnosis and betrayal. … “Mommy!” A child’s innocent voice pulled me back to reality. Leo, with his little backpack, charged into the flower shop like a cannonball and hugged my leg. He was the son of a fellow patient I’d met in the psych ward. His mother had taken her own life, leaving him an orphan. I adopted him. Two people abandoned by the world, finding warmth together in this small flower shop. On a weekend, during the kindergarten’s parent-child event, Leo whispered excitedly in my ear, waiting for the activities to begin. The host’s voice rang out, full of enthusiasm: “And now, let’s give our warmest welcome to today’s special guest – St. Jude Medical Center’s youngest surgical authority, Dr. Julian, who will be giving a lecture on pediatric first aid!” Under the spotlight, Julian and Vanessa walked onto the stage hand-in-hand. Vanessa’s gaze swept through the crowd, and her eyes widened when she saw me. The next second, as if she’d spotted a monster, she deliberately raised her voice. “Oh, my… am I seeing things right?” She raised a perfectly manicured finger, pointing directly at me, her tone a masterful blend of false concern and pure malice. “Isn’t that… Dr. Ava? The one our hospital had to let go… after that whole nasty business with her lifestyle choices?” The entire auditorium fell silent instantly. Parents immediately pulled their children away, scurrying from Leo and me as if we carried a plague. Instinct took over. I pulled Leo firmly behind me, shielding him with my body. Julian also looked our way. When he saw Leo, his face instantly darkened, enough to drip ice. He strode over, directly blocking my path. “Whose kid is that?”

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