My fiancé Ethan Gray and his secretary were playing a game of “strip billiards” at the pool club—lose a shot, lose a piece of clothing. Before long, the secretary had stripped down to just her bra and panties. She leaned against the pool table, whining coyly: “Mr. Gray, I’ve lost everything. What should I take off next?” Ethan turned his gaze toward me with a smile: “Natalie, you strip for her. And while you’re at it, put up that villa under your name.” The people around us burst into laughter, waiting to watch me—the good girl—make a fool of myself. I said nothing. I just calmly took off my jacket, revealing the tight silk camisole underneath. I picked up a cue stick and bent over the pool table, my body forming a perfect curve at the waist and hips. “Sure. But we’re changing the rules. For every shot I win, you two not only strip, you also put up shares in Gray Corporation.” Today, I guarantee I’ll make you both lose everything. Ethan laughed. He tossed the ball in his hand and said contemptuously: “Natalie, have you lost your mind? You can’t even hold a cue stick steady, and you think you can win shares in Gray Corporation?” Melissa Moore’s large chest shook with laughter. “I had no idea you could play pool! If you’re not careful, you might poke yourself in the face with the cue.” The rich playboys around us roared with laughter: “So even the cold Natalie gets jealous!” “Ethan, your fiancée’s got quite the ambition—going after Gray Corporation shares.” I ignored the grating noise. “What’s wrong?” I looked up, my gaze landing on Ethan’s face. “Is Mr. Gray afraid to take the bet?” The smile vanished from Ethan’s face. He couldn’t stand anyone publicly challenging his authority. “Natalie, don’t bite off more than you can chew. I brought you out tonight to do you a favor. You want shares? Fine. But what if you lose?” I tapped the cue stick lightly on the floor. “If I lose, I’ll give you the villa under my name, plus the ten percent stake I hold in Sterling Group. All of it.” Everyone present fell silent, their eyes filled with shock. Ten percent of Sterling Group was worth hundreds of millions. Add the villa, and that was nearly my entire fortune. Even Ethan froze. “Are you serious?” “Actions speak louder than words.” I pulled out my phone and called my personal attorney. “Mr. Brown, bring a betting agreement to Nightfall Pool Club. Ten minutes. I need to see the documents.” I hung up and walked to the bar to pour myself a glass of ice water. Melissa fanned the flames from the side. “Mr. Gray, Miss Sterling isn’t having some kind of breakdown, is she? Making a joke with this much money?” Ethan snorted coldly and wrapped his arm around Melissa’s waist. “Since she’s so eager to hand over money, the Gray family has no reason to refuse.” “When I win her villa, I’ll transfer it to your name immediately. Consider it your birthday present next month.” Melissa excitedly kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Mr. Gray. I knew you were the best to me.” Listening to their sticky conversation, I felt my stomach turn. Ten minutes later, Mr. Brown arrived with the freshly printed temporary betting agreement. Ethan signed his name with a flourish, putting up fifteen percent of Gray Corporation shares, his eyes full of the confidence of a sure winner.

He tossed the agreement on the table. “Natalie, you brought this on yourself. Don’t come crying and running home to Sterling Manor when you lose.” I picked up the pen and signed my name. “The rules stay the same.” I handed the agreement to Mr. Brown for safekeeping. “Lose a shot, lose a piece of clothing. One game decides it all. Whoever pockets all their balls first wins.” Melissa laughed coquettishly and picked up a cue. “Miss Sterling, I won’t hold back then.” First game. Melissa broke. She deliberately stuck out her rear, striking what she thought was a seductive pose in front of Ethan. Ethan moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, guiding her hands to aim. “Lower your waist. Don’t shake your hand.” A sharp crack rang out, and two striped balls dropped into the pockets. “Wow, they went in!” Melissa jumped up. Ethan lifted his hand and tapped her nose. “Not bad. You’re improving.” Under Ethan’s “careful guidance,” Melissa sank three balls in a row. It wasn’t until the fourth ball stopped at the pocket’s edge due to a bad angle that it became my turn. I pushed the cue forward, but the cue ball slipped. Not only did it miss my target ball, it actually knocked in one of Melissa’s balls for her. “Ha ha!” Laughter erupted again. “Did I see that right? That was a gift. Did Miss Sterling practice with a mop?” Melissa doubled over laughing, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Miss Sterling, you’re too kind—helping me sink balls!” She walked up to me with a look of someone enjoying the show. “According to the rules, shouldn’t you strip now?” Ethan stood nearby with his arms crossed. “Natalie, a bet’s a bet. Don’t waste everyone’s time.” Without expression, I raised my hand and removed the diamond earrings from my ears, tossing them onto the pool table. The diamonds glinted harshly under the lights. “First piece.” I spoke. Melissa wasn’t satisfied. “Hey, we said clothes. What are you doing bringing out jewelry?” “What’s the rush?” I picked up the chalk and leisurely rubbed it on the cue tip. “The rule is lose a piece. No one said it couldn’t be jewelry. Besides, these were the engagement gift your boss begged me to accept. Taking them off—perfect timing.” Ethan’s expression darkened. “Natalie, cut the sarcasm.” I didn’t look at him anymore. I stepped back. “Your turn, Miss Moore.” Melissa strutted forward smugly and continued shooting. Because of my “mistake,” the table layout favored her greatly. Soon she’d cleared all but her last two balls. My balls—not one had moved. Ethan’s friend Derek Chase started cheering from the sidelines. “Ethan, the villa’s about to be yours.” Ethan’s lips curved upward, his eyes scanning me up and down without disguise. “Natalie, if you’re willing to bow your head and admit you were wrong now, kneel down and beg me, I might still leave you some dignity.” I looked at him. “Ethan, don’t speak too soon. The game isn’t over yet.” Melissa said sweetly, “Mr. Gray, ignore her. Watch how I deal with her.” She bent down and aimed at the second-to-last ball. If this one went in, then she’d sink the eight ball, and I’d lose. Everyone’s eyes focused on Melissa. The cue struck. The target ball rolled straight toward the corner pocket. Ethan was already preparing to applaud. But just as the ball was about to drop, it bounced lightly off the pocket’s edge and stopped. Just that tiny bit short. A wave of disappointment swept through the room.

“Oh no, so close!” Melissa stamped her foot in frustration. She turned her head and glared at me viciously. “Consider yourself lucky.” I walked to the table, looked at the scattered balls, and smiled. Time to close the net. I picked up the cue and walked to a position with a tricky angle. The cue ball was blocked by two of my opponent’s balls. The target ball was at the far diagonal corner pocket, with several obstacle balls in between. Anyone who knew anything about pool could tell—this shot was basically unsalvageable. The playboy Derek Chase shook his head from the side. “No way. Even professional players would have a headache over this shot, let alone a beginner.” Ethan walked up beside me, speaking in a tone of charity. “Natalie, stop struggling. There’s no way you can make this shot. Just hand over the villa keys now, take off your jacket, and we’ll call it even for today.” Melissa chimed in. “Exactly, Miss Sterling. Dragging it out just makes you look worse. Why bother?” I didn’t look at them, just quietly stared at the table. I calculated the angle, force, friction, and every possible trajectory after ball collision in my mind. Three seconds later, I straightened up. “Ethan, aren’t you celebrating too soon?” I walked to the other end of the pool table and changed positions. This time, I dropped all pretense. An aura belonging to a top-tier player made all the surrounding noise die down. Derek froze for a moment and rubbed his eyes. “Holy shit, that stance… why does it look familiar?” Ethan frowned too, but then sneered. “Putting on airs. You think striking a pose will bring a dead ball back to life?” I blocked out his voice and adjusted my breathing. My gaze locked on the four o’clock position at the lower right of the cue ball. English, draw shot. “Crack!” A clear, penetrating strike rang out. The target ball dropped into the diagonal corner pocket on cue. The entire room fell dead silent. Everyone’s eyes widened, mouths hanging open, unable to say a word. Derek’s wine glass fell to the floor, the sound of shattering glass especially clear in the quiet pool room. “Holy fuck, this… is this even humanly possible?” The color drained from Ethan’s face, his eyes filled with shock. “Just luck…” He gritted his teeth, staring at the pocketed ball. Melissa panicked too, her words stuttering. “R-right… it must be luck. How could anyone make such a weird shot?” I slowly straightened up, resting the cue on my shoulder, looking at them. “Whether it’s luck or skill, you’ll know soon enough.” The situation from here on was simple for me. I didn’t even pause for a moment. I moved quickly around the pool table, bending, striking—smooth and fluid. My movements flowed without a single wasted motion. Crack. Crack. Crack. The continuous sound of balls dropping, one after another, hammered on Ethan and Melissa’s hearts. In less than a minute, all my balls on the table were cleared. Only the last one remained—the eight ball.

The room was so quiet you could hear breathing, only the sound of my heels striking the floor. I walked up to the eight ball and looked up at Ethan’s ashen face. “Mr. Gray, it seems your shares are in jeopardy.” Melissa’s face was completely bloodless. She grabbed Ethan’s sleeve. “Mr. Gray… what do we do? She’s going to win…” Ethan stared at the solitary eight ball on the table, veins throbbing at his temples. He couldn’t have imagined that his usually gentle, docile fiancée was actually a pool shark in disguise. “Natalie, you set me up.” Ethan’s voice squeezed out between his teeth. I chuckled lightly, but my eyes were cold. “Set you up? You signed the agreement yourself. You set the rules. What, can’t handle losing?” I held the cue and slowly walked to the optimal shooting position. This was a simple straight shot with no difficulty whatsoever. One gentle push and the eight ball would drop. This bet would be over. Fifteen percent of Gray Corporation shares would be mine, and Ethan and Melissa would be utterly humiliated here. I bent down, positioned the cue, and aimed at the center of the cue ball. Everyone held their breath, staring at my movements. Melissa could barely stand. “Wait!” Just as the cue was about to touch the cue ball, Ethan suddenly slapped the bar and shouted. The shout came so suddenly, carrying a desperate, frantic edge. Everyone jumped. My cue stopped less than a centimeter from the cue ball. I slowly raised my head, my gaze falling on Ethan. “What does Mr. Gray think he’s doing? Interrupting the game means an automatic loss according to the rules.” Ethan panted heavily, his eyes bloodshot. He strode to the pool table and glared at me. “Natalie, you dare sink that ball and see what happens.” He pointed at my nose, his voice trembling. “You really think winning this game means you can take Gray Corporation shares? Dream on.” “I’m telling you, if you dare to win today, our two families are done for good.” “Put down that cue right now. We’ll call this game a draw.” I looked at his ugly expression and suddenly found it laughable. This was the man I once wanted to spend my life with. Arrogant when winning, throwing a tantrum when losing. Seeing Ethan lose his temper, Melissa gained courage too and started shouting at me. “Did you hear that, Natalie? Mr. Gray told you to stop. Don’t push your luck. Gray Corporation shares aren’t for you to touch.” “Tear up that agreement right now and get out of here. Mr. Gray might pretend today never happened.” The friends around us started whispering, advising me to quit while I was ahead. “Natalie, just let it go. If you really push Ethan over the edge, it won’t be good for you either.” “Yeah, we’re all friends. No need to make things this ugly.” Everyone assumed I wouldn’t dare truly offend Ethan. In their eyes, I was ultimately just a woman who needed to depend on a man. I slowly straightened up. “Ethan, do you think I’m playing games with you today?” I bent down again, the cue aimed at the eight ball, my eyes devoid of any warmth. “This ball—I’m sinking it.” Crack! A sharp, violent collision shattered the standoff. The cue ball shot toward the eight ball without a shred of hesitation, without a hair’s breadth of error.

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A photo leaked online. It showed the lean, tensed waist of Xander Sterling—the heir to the Sterling tech empire—covered in a massive tattoo of a Hibiscus. A hand, wearing a pink diamond ring that cost more than a private jet, was pressed firmly against his rock-hard abs. Fingers tipped with blood-red polish rested right in the center of the bloom. It was pure, unadulterated fire. That same night, A-list starlet Seraphina Frost posted a photo of a ring. It was a perfect match for the pink diamond in the leak. The internet went nuclear. Everyone was congratulating the “it-couple” on their secret engagement. Only I knew the truth. She was clout-chasing. Because that hand in the photo… was mine. 1 I’m a “nobody” in Hollywood. Two years since my debut, and I’ve only booked three shows—all minor supporting roles. It’s not because I lack talent or a “sugar daddy” to bankroll my career. It’s because I have a boyfriend who is a world-class jealousy addict. Xander Sterling. He can’t stand the idea of me doing a romantic scene, and he hates it when I’m away on location for months. He’d honestly prefer it if I were tethered to him at all times. As a result, I’ve remained a fringe actress, hovering at the bottom of the A-list. My agent finally booked me a spot on a high-profile reality show to get my face out there. The twist? I’d be sharing the stage with Seraphina Frost, the lead from a fantasy epic I once played a maid in. The same Seraphina currently “confirming” her engagement to my boyfriend. … The show was live-streamed with a real-time fan chat. The host announced: “Let’s play a game. Seraphina and Scarlett, you’ll both draw a challenge from the jar.” In typical reality TV fashion, the “random” draw was rigged. Seraphina went first and pulled out a card the producers had clearly planted: [Cook a home-style meal and invite a close friend to the set to dine with you.] The chat immediately lost its mind: [Chat: This was SO planned! They want her to invite the Sterling Heir!] [Chat: If Xander Sterling shows up, this show’s ratings will break the internet!] [Chat: I need to see Seraphina and Xander being cute together. Goals!] Xander Sterling is a legend in the city. Pedigree, lethal good looks, and a collection of vintage Ferraris that could fund a small country. The rumors about him and Seraphina started a year ago when she “accidentally” posted a photo of a custom silver Ferrari identical to one of his. Over the next twelve months, she dropped hints—matching watches, same-day vacation spots, and eventually landing an endorsement deal for a luxury brand owned by Sterling Global. Her fans ate it up. They called it the “modern-day fairy tale.” The peak was three days ago. Xander had posted that “thirst trap” photo on his private social media. His tensed abs, the Hibiscus tattoo, and that hand with the red nails and the pink diamond. Seraphina’s “matching” ring post that night was seen as the ultimate confirmation. The internet was already planning their wedding. But I knew better. I took that photo while I was pinned under him in a moment of… celebration. The original photo included his face—wearing a pair of ridiculous cat ears I’d forced on him—but he’d cropped the top half before posting. The host looked at Seraphina. “So, Seraphina, who are you inviting? Could it be the man everyone is talking about?” Seraphina glanced at the monitor, playing coy. “He’s incredibly busy, but… usually, if I call, he drops everything for me.” A soft blush crept onto her cheeks. “Let me try him.” The host leaned in. “We have to know—what is his name in your contacts?” Seraphina turned her phone to the camera. The contact name was just one letter: [X]. The chat went into a frenzy over the “intimacy” of the nickname. Seraphina smirked and hit dial. 2 As the face of a Sterling brand, it wasn’t hard for her to get his office line. The call connected quickly. A professional, smooth male voice answered—definitely not Xander’s. “Miss Frost? Is something wrong?” I recognized the voice. It was Caleb, Xander’s executive assistant. Seraphina explained she was filming a show and wanted him to come for dinner. The reply was clipped: “I’m afraid Mr. Sterling is in a board meeting. He is unavailable.” The line went dead. Seraphina hadn’t put it on speaker, so only those of us on set heard the cold rejection. She didn’t blink. She put on a practiced “annoyed girlfriend” face and sighed to the host. “He’s such a workaholic. Board meetings, always board meetings.” The chat was undeterred: [Chat: Even his assistant knows her! It’s basically official.] [Chat: Can you imagine being so rich you stand up a movie star for a meeting? Sterling is such a boss.] [Chat: Seraphina is basically the First Lady of the Sterling Empire at this point.] The host played along. “That’s a shame. Who else will you invite?” Seraphina tilted her head. “Give me a second to think… I have so many options.” While she “thought,” the host turned to me. “Scarlett, your turn. Same challenge. Who are you inviting? A fellow actor?” I shook my head. “No, not an actor.” “A friend? Family?” I hesitated, then nodded. “Can we ask who it is?” I thought about the human volcano of jealousy waiting for me at home. The challenge required me to invite someone to a public dinner. If I invited any other man, Xander would literally level the building. So, I said his name. “Xander Sterling.” The host’s smile froze like a wax apple. The live chat exploded. [Chat: What is this Scarlett girl doing?] [Chat: The audacity! You’re inviting another woman’s fiancé?] [Chat: This is the ultimate clout-chase. A nobody trying to steal Seraphina’s spotlight!] The producers were torn. On one hand, the ratings just doubled. On the other hand, Seraphina’s fans were becoming toxic, and they were worried about the stream getting flagged for harassment. The host, sensing drama, asked, “And what do you have him saved as in your phone? Can we see?” I looked at the lens and shook my head. “The number is private. I can’t show the screen.” Xander’s personal cell was a state secret. I wasn’t about to leak it on live TV. The chat hissed: [Chat: She’s lying!] [Chat: There’s no way a D-list actress has his personal cell! Thirsty much?] Only a few lonely voices tried to defend me: [Chat: To be fair, if it IS his real number, she’d get sued for showing it…] Seraphina’s face was dark. Her voice was sharp. “Some people need to know their place. Chasing clout you didn’t earn usually ends in a career-ending crash.” I didn’t even look at her. I just hit dial. 3 Three rings. Xander didn’t pick up. My brows knit together. Another three rings. He declined the call. My jaw tightened. I remembered what the assistant had told Seraphina: Mr. Sterling is in a board meeting. Xander wasn’t a trust-fund playboy; he actually ran the empire. He took his work seriously. Declining a call during a meeting wasn’t new, and he always called back to apologize. But being humiliated like this on live TV? My blood was simmering. The chat was a bonfire of mockery. [Chat: LMAO! REJECTED!] [Chat: Did she really think he’d answer her? Delusional.] Seraphina looked at me with fake pity. “Scarlett, honey, I know you wanted a viral moment, but this is just embarrassing.” She pointedly displayed her red-manicured nails to the camera. “You don’t have a very good sense of humor, do you? That joke was… awkward.” The atmosphere on set turned ice-cold. The host scrambled to recover. “Seraphina, have you decided on your guest?” Seraphina nodded gracefully. “I’ve invited Sebastian Vance, the lead designer for the E’S fashion house. He’s on his way.” The chat pivoted back to praising her. [Chat: Her circle is insane!] [Chat: E’S is basically Sterling’s personal wardrobe. This is a huge flex.] While the host interrogated Seraphina about the designer, my phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from Xander. Xander: [Baby, I’m in a meeting. My dad is chairing the year-end review. I have to play the good son today.] Xander’s father was a traditional, stern man who had already chewed him out for the tattoo. Last night, in the bathtub, Xander had been whining to me about it. He complained that if he was going to get yelled at for a “Scarlett-themed” tattoo, he at least deserved the right to go public with me. He had been so pathetic and needy that I’d finally caved and agreed to let him go public. And now, this show was the perfect stage. I thought about the rejected call and felt like being a brat. I texted him the details of the live stream and dangled a carrot: Scarlett: [If you miss this chance to go public, we might have to wait another year. Your choice, big guy~] This time, the reply was instant. Xander: [I’m on my way.] 4 With the guests confirmed, we started cooking. I worked in silence, while Seraphina spent the entire time chatting with the host. “Sebastian is a very close friend of mine and Xander’s,” she told the camera. “Most of our custom gala pieces come from his studio.” The chat was buzzing. [Chat: E’S is the ultimate Sterling brand. Seraphina sounds like she’s already the matriarch of the family.] I glanced at her. The smugness on her face was almost blinding. E’S was indeed a brand under the Sterling umbrella. But the real mastermind behind it wasn’t “Sebastian.” It was Stanley Vance, a legendary tailor who had served the Sterling family for decades. Xander had told me that Sebastian was Stanley’s son, a guy who hated his real name (Stanley Jr.) and insisted everyone call him Sebastian to sound more “European.” The show’s pattern was clear now: The producers wanted to contrast me against Seraphina—the “Nobody” vs. the “Future Sterling Queen”—to generate rage-clicks and engagement. The host walked over to me, smiling that fake, sugary smile. “Scarlett, since Mr. Sterling was… busy, did you find someone else to join us? You can invite your parents or a friend if you’re lonely.” The chat followed her lead. [Chat: She has no friends. Look at her.] [Chat: Bet she invites her Uber driver.] I didn’t look up from the tomatoes I was slicing. “Who said Xander Sterling isn’t coming?” The host froze. She glanced at the director, wondering if this was a scripted twist she’d missed. “So… Mr. Sterling is actually coming?” “You’ll see in twenty minutes, won’t you?” I smiled at her. Seraphina scoffed. “Integrity is a rare quality, Scarlett. I hope you find some eventually.” The chat was a mess. [Chat: She is obsessed!] [Chat: Seraphina literally just said he’s in a meeting! This Scarlett girl is mental!] I ignored them. I ignored Seraphina. I had a beef brisket to braise. Halfway through the prep, the host exclaimed, “Oh! You’re both making the same dish? Tomato-braised Brisket? What a coincidence!” Seraphina looked at the camera, her voice cold. “Tomato brisket is Xander’s favorite dish. It’s also my specialty.” Translation: I’m the real one. She’s the copycat.

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I was the only kept woman by the side of Manhattan’s most eligible billionaire heir. One day, I happened to glance at his phone and saw a suggestive text pop up: 【Baby, I’ll be waiting at our usual spot tonight~】 I froze for a split second, then calmly locked the screen for him. He works so hard every day; what’s wrong with him spending the night with another girl? 1 It’s not that I don’t know how to be jealous. It’s just… why should I? Everett Thorne has eight-pack abs, a model’s physique, and a face that could put Hollywood A-listers to shame. The line of women waiting to date him stretches from New York to Paris. As the “trophy girl” by his side, I might have to swallow a little pride, but the $150,000 monthly allowance is more than enough to numb the pain. With benefits like these, why would I ever want to rock the boat? A smart woman never goes looking for trouble. 2 Everett walked out of his study and lazily sat back down beside me. He pulled me close while I watched some mindless reality TV, then picked up his phone. Suddenly, his brow furrowed, and his fingers tapped the screen a few times. Using my 20/20 vision, I caught a glimpse of his reply: 【Understood.】 Aha. So the Prince of the Upper East Side won’t be coming home tonight? Doesn’t that mean I can finally go out and run wild? I suppressed my excitement and even played the part of the attentive partner by pouring him a glass of water. Everett didn’t drink it. Instead, he reached out with his long arm, pulled me into his lap, and leaned against me with lazy affection. His lashes were thick, his voice a low mumble: “I have a business dinner tonight. Do you want to come with me?” Uh… no. I’m not about to crash your wonderful night with whatever “trophy sister” sent that text. I don’t need to be a part of your kinky roleplay. I complained internally, but my voice was soft and submissive: “You go ahead. I’m not really cut out for those high-stakes events.” Everett gave a non-committal “Mm.” He didn’t push it. He just held me like he was cuddling a cat for a long while before grabbing his coat and lazily heading out. The second he was gone, I called my best friend and headed straight for the Meatpacking District. My friend, Sarah, teased me: “How did your keeper let you out tonight?” I scrolled through the club’s lineup, eyeing the new male DJ, and replied: “Everett’s busy tonight. I’m out to live my best life while the coast is clear.” Sarah laughed, but then she dropped a bombshell: “I heard a rumor that you and Everett are getting engaged.” My hand tightened around my martini glass. “What?” “Cody told me. He said Everett’s been making massive preparations for an engagement lately. It’s a huge deal. Man, if you actually landed the heir to the Thorne empire, you’re going to shock the entire social register.” I slowly sipped the rest of my drink. It took a long time before I could find my voice. “Forget them. I’m pretty shocked right now.” 3 When Sarah tried to dig deeper, I played it off and changed the subject. But my mind was racing. Everett and I had a signed contract. In public, we were the perfect, doting couple—I was the buffer to handle his overbearing parents and the socialites throwing themselves at him. In private, I was just the girl he kept in his penthouse. But now, he’s getting married? Who is he marrying? And does our contract still mean anything? My head started to throb. Everything felt like a mess. I downed two more drinks to numb the anxiety and headed to the dance floor to blow off some steam. As I stood up, I noticed a commotion at the entrance of the club. I instinctively looked over and saw a group of elite young men and women walking in. One man stood out—tall, refined, and radiating an effortless nobility. The strobing club lights hit his face—a face that looked like it had won the genetic lottery. The people around him were practically gravitating toward him. Wait. Holy crap. What is Everett doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be at a “usual spot” with some girl? 4 Maybe my gaze was too intense, because Everett suddenly looked in my direction. My heart skipped a beat. I immediately ducked into the booth, barely breathing. Dead. I’m dead. The persona I maintained in front of him was “sweet, fragile little lamb.” If he sees me here, surrounded by smoke and tequila, he’ll probably blow a fuse. I glanced at Sarah, who was losing herself on the dance floor, and grabbed my bag, ready to bolt for the restrooms. Safety first. Survival is the priority. I figured the “Golden Boys” would head straight for a VIP lounge. I’d wait for them to pass, then slip out. But to my horror, they sat down at the massive booth right next to mine. They were laughing and carrying on. It was a high-energy scene that drew the eyes of every girl in the room. I crouched in the shadows, not daring to move. I only caught a glimpse when a server brought them a round of bottles. As luck would have it, Everett was sitting directly across from my booth. He was leaning in, listening to a woman next to him, his sharp profile perfectly defined. I pulled back further, screaming internally. How am I supposed to leave? If I stand up, he’ll see me instantly! Just as I was plotting an escape, I heard the conversation from the next booth: “Everett, not drinking?” “No. You guys go ahead.” “Ah, I get it. The ‘Missus’ hates the smell of booze on you, right?” “If you know, why ask?” Everett leaned back lazily, playing with his phone, a smirk playing on his lips. “You guys have fun. I’m going to give her a call.” “Oooooh—!” Amidst the teasing, I was utterly bewildered. Who is this “Missus”? I’ve never once complained about him smelling like alcohol. So it’s true. Everett has another girl. As I was lost in thought, the phone in my bag started ringing. In the relatively quiet booth area, it sounded like a siren. Damn it! Who is calling me right now?! I scrambled to grab my phone and silence it. When I saw the caller ID, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. 5 Why was Everett calling me? I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t. I sat there trembling, waiting for the call to go to voicemail. Usually, at this time, I’d be in the shower. I hoped he’d just assume that. Sure enough, he didn’t call back. I let out a sigh of relief, peeking over the edge of the booth. Everett was staring down at his phone. His expression was unreadable. I didn’t have time to wonder what he was thinking. I needed to move. But just as I stood up to slip away, a loud, eager male voice boomed right next to me: “Hey, beautiful! Did you drink too much and fall? “Let me help you up.” I stayed hunched over, waving him off frantically, whispering: “No, I’m fine. Go away.” The guy didn’t take the hint. “Come on, you shouldn’t be alone. Your face is all red.” It’s red because I’m panicking, you idiot! I didn’t want to deal with this “nice guy” creep. I just wanted him to vanish before he attracted Everett’s attention. I looked at him coldly. “I don’t need your help. Please leave.” The guy smirked. “Oh, playing hard to get? Why so cold? Let’s just have some fun.” He reached out to grab my arm. The commotion started drawing eyes. I was desperate. Then, a cold, familiar voice rang out from behind the guy: “Didn’t you hear her? She told you to get lost.” I stiffened. I closed my eyes, wishing for the sweet release of death. It’s over. The world is officially on fire. 6 When Everett is angry, he has an overwhelming presence. It’s like the air around him drops twenty degrees. The creep muttered an apology and scurried away. The creep was gone, but I was still in the line of fire. I tried to scramble for an explanation, but Everett just looked down at me with dark, swirling eyes. He turned to his friends at the next table, said he had an emergency, and walked out without another word. I panicked. Forgetting Sarah, I chased after him. By the time we got to the car, Everett still hadn’t acknowledged me. I scrambled to buckle my seatbelt, and he slammed his foot on the gas. The acceleration pinned me to the seat. I didn’t dare say a word. I felt like I should just get on my knees and apologize. How am I supposed to fix this? Should I say I was possessed? Should I say I was just passing by? Is he going to fire me? While I was spiraling in fear, the car stopped. We were home. Everett got out, rounded the hood, and before I could even step out, he hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Everett… Everett!” My stomach was pressed against his shoulder, and it hurt. I struggled a little. He gave my backside a firm, sharp smack. “If you have that much energy left, you’re staying up all night with me.” “…” My ears turned bright red. I went limp on his shoulder, not daring to move.

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That Valentine’s Day, I left him standing all alone on the streets of Manhattan and walked away without ever looking back. Years later, when we met again, he was already a top-tier magnate controlling the lifeblood of Wall Street. He appeared at a star-studded charity auction, dropping an astronomical sum on a necklace for his current girlfriend. People teased him: “Mr. Sterling, should we be expecting wedding bells soon?” Hudson Sterling barely lifted his eyes. “We’re just playing around. It doesn’t count.” The moment those words left his mouth, he saw me. The smile on his lips instantly died. Under the watchful eyes of the entire room, he stood up and walked steadily toward me. My mind went completely blank. I only had time to formulate the simplest greeting: “Long time no see—” The next second, his large, knuckle-defined hand clamped ruthlessly around my neck, pinning me against the freezing marble wall. “You actually dared to come back?” He smiled like a spring breeze, but his eyes were as cold as the arctic. “Did I or did I not say, if you ever showed your face again, I would kill you myself?” 1 I hadn’t seen Hudson for a full twenty-four hours. The food on the dining table had gone cold and been reheated multiple times. “Mrs. Miller, clear the table,” I said. “Ma’am, are you not going to eat?” In this house, even the housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, cared about me more than my own husband did. In my designer bag was a lab report from my hospital visit that morning. The joy of carrying a new life had only lasted two minutes. Across the hospital corridor, I had seen Hudson. He was carefully supporting Serena Thorne as they walked into an examination room. I sat on a chair in the hallway, hesitating over whether I should wait for them to come out and tell Hudson, right in front of Serena, that he was going to be a father. But even after they emerged and their silhouettes disappeared down the other end of the corridor, I remained frozen in the exact same position, like an invisible, irrelevant statue. I didn’t know why I was being such a coward. I wasn’t some desperate lapdog; the union between the Sterlings and the Brooks was a marriage of equal corporate giants. I had every right to march up and scream at him! The one who falls in love first, loses. Truly the wisest words ever spoken. “What are you doing here?” Matte leather dress shoes stopped right in front of me. I looked up. Hudson was frowning, his handsome face etched with exhaustion. “Where does it hurt?” “My stomach.” “Stomach acting up again? How much coffee did you drink?” Hudson glanced down at his luxury watch. “Did the doctor check it out?” “Yeah. Nothing serious.” “Drink less coffee. Eat your meals on time.” Hudson took a step toward the elevators. “I have some business to attend to…” “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to brush me off…” He let out a soft chuckle and stepped into the elevator. “I’ll explain when I get home.” 2 By the time Hudson got home, it was already 10 PM. “Her husband beat her. I took her to the hospital.” After stating the facts, Hudson added with emphasis, “There is nothing going on between us.” Since he said it like that, I’d pretend to believe it. “I only have one boundary. Keep your distance.” “I will.” His promise was still echoing in my ears when his phone rang. He immediately rolled out of bed. “Marcus went to the hospital. I have to go check.” I sat up immediately. “I’m going with you.” The opposing family members were making an appearance; what reason did I have to hide? Hudson didn’t say a word, just knit his brows and walked at a blistering pace. I had to jog just to keep up with him. “Drive a little slower.” Hudson was treating the city streets like a drag strip, slamming the gas and the brakes. I almost threw up my dinner in his passenger seat. “Why did you even come with me?” Even though he tried to rein in his tone, his impatience was palpable. “Fine, I won’t go. Turn around and take me home.” Hudson sighed. “Could you please stop throwing a tantrum?” “Could you please drive slower? Serena’s marriage is dead; do you want to drag the two of us to the grave with her?” Knowing he was in the wrong, Hudson silently eased off the accelerator. 3 In the private hospital room, Serena sat on the bed, crying beautifully like a fragile porcelain doll. Marcus was on his knees, bawling louder than she was. “I’m a piece of trash. I deserve to die… Serena, please, give me one more chance…” “What’s the point of saying this now?” Serena’s attitude was unyielding. “Leave. I don’t want to look at you.” Marcus opened his mouth to beg, but Hudson—playing the ever-chivalrous knight in shining armor—couldn’t sit still. He took a long stride over, grabbed Marcus by the collar like a helpless chicken, and hoisted him up. “She said she doesn’t want to see you.” Against Hudson’s absolute physical dominance, Marcus stood no chance. He was tossed out and left banging on the hospital room door, shouting her name. “If he keeps making that noise, how are the other patients supposed to rest?” Serena turned her head away, shedding silent tears. “Who cares about the others? Serena is going through so much right now…” This was the second time Hudson had lashed out at me for Serena’s sake. I glared at him, making a mental note to settle the score when we got home. Seeing me open the door, Hudson snapped, “What are you doing?” “Pacifying the guy outside. What else? Are we just going to let him cause a scene?” 4 I went to the convenience store downstairs and bought Marcus some sports drinks and snacks. He hadn’t eaten properly in days. The Thorne family empire had filed for bankruptcy. It hadn’t hit the news yet, but their assets were already frozen. He had begged Serena’s family to bail him out, but the Thornes refused. “Just because the Thornes wouldn’t bail you out, you use your wife as a punching bag? Does that make you a man?” He dropped his head, burying his face in his hands as he wept. “Stop crying.” I tossed a pack of tissues in front of him. “A grown man sobbing in a hospital hallway…” “Could you please help me talk to Serena? Tell her not to abort the baby… The baby is innocent…” Serena was pregnant? “You have the nerve to ask for favors after beating a pregnant woman? Are you even human?” Marcus suddenly dropped to his knees, grabbing the hem of my pants. “I only found out after… Please, help me. I have absolutely nothing left…” “You know exactly why Serena married you. In our circle, marriage is a transaction. Love is a luxury—a luxury that money can’t even buy. Wake up, Marcus.” 5 When I pushed the door open, Hudson immediately turned around and pressed a finger to his lips, shushing me. Meanwhile, his other hand was tightly clasped in the hands of a sleeping Serena. “You go home first…” he whispered. “Okay.” Why stay and be the third wheel? At 2 AM, the streets of New York were deserted. I waited half an hour and couldn’t hail a single cab. “Where are you heading?” A kind-hearted driver rolled down their window. They looked like a young married couple. “It’s too late for you to be out. We can give you a ride.” “Thank you so much.” I slid into the backseat. “Upper East Side, 16th Street.” “Got it, GPS is set.” The car cruised smoothly along the wide, empty avenues. “Babe, take tomorrow off. Don’t go into work,” the man said, checking the dashboard clock. “It’s already 3 AM…” The woman shook her head. “No way. Missing a day means losing hundreds of dollars…” “Your husband can support you. It’s settled. Rest at home tomorrow. I’ll make you some porridge when we get back; we’ll keep it light…” The woman smiled silently, clearly accepting her husband’s suggestion. “We’re here.” The man glanced out the window at the pitch-black street. “Do you want me to walk you to your lobby?” “No need, it’s just a five-minute walk.” I pulled a business card from my wallet. “Avery Brooks, Apex Logistics. If you two ever need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.” The kind couple took the card and exchanged a surprised look. “Have a good night. Bye!” “Bye, take care!” The autumn wind was biting, swirling the yellowing leaves across the pavement. Today was the first frost of the year. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and started the walk home. 6 Serena scheduled her abortion. “With a cowardly loser for a father, the kid is better off reincarnating,” Hudson remarked callously. I found it inexplicably funny. “Mr. Sterling, the squab soup is ready.” Mrs. Miller placed the thermal thermos on the table. “I added some jujubes and goji berries.” “Yeah.” Hudson picked up the thermos. “I’m heading to the hospital. Go to sleep early tonight, don’t wait up.” Tch. As if I’d wait up for him. Back in the bedroom, my best friend—Chloe, who also happened to be an HR executive at Sterling Group—sent me a voice memo. “What? He’s running to the hospital every day? Is he planning to nurse Serena through her postpartum recovery too?” I filed my nails nonchalantly. “He definitely wouldn’t be this attentive if I were the one recovering.” “Did you tell him you’re pregnant yet?” I shook my head with a fake smile. “When would I get the chance? CEO Hudson is either working overtime or playing nurse at the hospital.” Chloe sat up straight on the FaceTime call. “Listen to me. Tomorrow, you take the soup to the hospital. Tell him you’re pregnant right there. Make sure that Thorne bitch hears it loud and clear.” “Ugh, I don’t know… That makes me look so manipulative…” “Tsk,” Chloe clicked her tongue. “You have to out-manipulate the manipulator. Strike first to gain the upper hand, or strike late and just cry about it.” “I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow and read the room. We’re all old acquaintances; I don’t want to make it too ugly.” The next day, Hudson asked his driver, Leo, to come back for the soup. I said, I’ll go. I’d give him a surprise. Through the glass window of the hospital room, I saw the two of them hugging. I kept the ‘shock’ for myself and decided to paste the ‘surprise’ right onto the hospital door. Hearing my knock, Hudson forcefully pushed Serena away and got up to open the door. “Didn’t I tell Leo to come back for this?” Hudson took the thermos from my hands, his eyes dodging mine, his tone accusatory. “I missed my husband. Is it a crime to come see you?” I laid the groundwork for my upcoming announcement. The moment I saw them hugging, any concern for ‘looking manipulative’ flew right out the window. “Hudson, you should go home. I’ll be fine by myself…” Serena put on a show of insisting he leave. Playing the victim to gain sympathy? Two could play at that game. I played along smoothly. “She’s right. Go home and get some rest. I can take over here.” “You know how to take care of people?” Hudson scoffed. “Give me a break.” Just then, Hudson’s phone rang. “I need to take this…” “You and Hudson have really worked so hard these past few days…” Serena sure had a way with words. Hudson did all the work, but she forcibly dragged my name into it, putting herself in the center of our dynamic. “We’re all friends. We help when we can.” Outside the door, Hudson was on the phone, occasionally glancing inside. “I’m a little hungry. Could you pass me the soup?” Serena asked. “No problem. Easy.” I poured a small bowl of soup and handed it to her. She let out a sharp gasp and dropped it. The bowl of scalding soup splashed all over the floor. The boiling liquid splattered onto my feet. My soaked stockings clung to my skin, burning and sticky. I immediately sat on the edge of a chair, kicked off my heels, and used wet wipes to cool the burns. Hudson burst into the room, rushing straight to check Serena’s hands. “Did you burn yourself?” “It burned my foot!” I yelled at him. “I’m fine! It’s all my fault, I didn’t hold it tight enough…” Serena blamed herself perfectly. “Hudson, quickly, check if Avery is okay…” “Her voice is loud enough to wake the dead. She’s fine.” Hudson bent down to pick up the ceramic shards, tossing them in the trash. “I’ll get a janitor to clean this up.” “Hudson is always so considerate. I’m so jealous of you…” This level of manipulation really was an art form. “Marcus wasn’t so bad himself. Before the divorce, he handed over his entire paycheck. After the divorce, he shouldered all your joint debt alone…” “Avery, do you ever listen to yourself?” Hudson pushed the door back open, glaring at me. “All you ever talk about is money…” The janitor finished mopping the floor, and Serena thanked them softly. There was only half a bowl of soup left in the thermos anyway. And when I handed her the bowl, I deliberately held it from the bottom so she could hold the coolest edges. I could hold it just fine. Just how delicate were her hands supposed to be? The soup literally splashed onto my feet, and she was completely unhurt! The more I thought about it, the higher my blood pressure spiked. If I stayed any longer, I’d need medication. “I’m leaving!” “Don’t let the door hit you.” Until the door clicked shut behind me, Hudson didn’t spare me a single glance. 7 That night, I stared blankly at the ceiling in the dark. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. I immediately squeezed my eyes shut. Hudson walked in, turned on the light, and pulled back the covers. “What are you doing?” “Let me see your foot. Why are you being so aggressive?” I stubbornly tucked my feet deeper under the blanket. “She just had surgery. She’s physically uncomfortable and emotionally unstable… When she suddenly hugged me, I didn’t have time to react…” Hudson sounded genuinely wronged. “Give me a straight answer. How long are you planning on playing her personal nurse?” Hudson’s lips parted, but he couldn’t give me a specific timeline. “Let me know when you figure it out.” Hudson and I inexplicably spiraled into a Cold War, completely ignoring each other. The day of my dad’s birthday banquet, I assumed he wouldn’t show up. I had already crafted a perfect excuse for his absence. But then he appeared, gift in hand. “Had some business to tie up. Got delayed… Happy Birthday, Dad.” My dad beamed. “Avery, take your husband to get some food! Rushing all the way over here, he must be starving.” “Sit next to me.” I had someone add a chair beside mine. “How did you find the time?” “I told you, if I have time, I’ll come.” For all my previous family events, he was miraculously always “out of time.” On the drive home, the silence in the car was deafening. “Spit it out. What is it?” I asked. “Do you always have to view me through such a transactional lens?” Hudson complained. “I came to genuinely celebrate Dad’s birthday.” “Miss this opportunity, and you won’t get another.” Hudson finally confessed. “There’s something I need to run by you.” “Speak.” “I want to place Serena in a role at the Group.” No one knows a son better than his father, and no one knows Hudson better than me. “Thorne Industries went bankrupt too?” Hudson explained, “She just got divorced. If she goes back to the Thorne family business, she’ll be a target for gossip. It’s better if she gains some experience at Sterling for a couple of years before heading back.” “Are you asking for my opinion, or just notifying me?” “Avery, being this aggressive is getting old.” Playing the bad cop didn’t work, so now he was playing the good cop. That’s fine. If he wanted to change faces, I could play the Cold War game flawlessly.

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It was our fifth year together when Ian and I had another explosive fight. He grabbed his keys, stormed out the door, and chose the cold shoulder once again. I sat quietly on the sofa. After stewing for half the day, I started scrolling through TikTok, giggling at the videos. At 2:00 AM, my phone ringing woke me up. Ian’s voice on the other end was cold enough to freeze water. “I’ve been outside until now, and you couldn’t even bother to call me once?” I awkwardly remembered he was still wandering out there in the freezing snow. Feeling a bit embarrassed, I said, “Uh, well… how about you just don’t come back? Let’s just call it quits?” 1 After I said that, a brief silence fell over the phone. Then, with a sharp click, he hung up. My eyes were so heavy I could barely keep them open. I rolled over in my warm bed and fell comfortably back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I heard a rustling noise in the living room. I went out to look. It was Ian, packing his bags. He acted like I was invisible, keeping his head down and blindly shoving his stuff into a suitcase. I frowned and stood there watching him for a while, just to make sure he didn’t accidentally take any of my things. He finally finished packing, zipped up the suitcase, and said flatly: “You need to cool off. Let’s not talk for a while.” Those words sounded familiar. Something similar had happened last year. After a massive fight, he grabbed his keys to leave. I had broken down, grabbing onto him. “Why does it have to be like this again? Why do you always leave me alone? Can’t we just talk it out face-to-face? Why do you always run away!” He stopped trying to leave the apartment but turned back and locked himself in the bedroom. Just as my emotions started to settle down, I saw him walking out with a suitcase. His voice was detached and calm, a complete contrast to my hysteria. “You need a few days to cool off. We’ll talk in a while.” After that, he really didn’t contact me for over two weeks. Every message I sent, every call I made, sank like a stone in the ocean. Zero response. I was losing my mind back then. I cried myself to sleep every night, and eventually, I was the one who broke down and sent texts begging for his forgiveness. Once it happens, it happens again. Ian realized the silent treatment worked like a charm on me. He didn’t even have to put in effort to fix things—I would fix myself. So, he started using it constantly. From my initial desperate need for a response, I slowly learned to digest it all on my own. Only I knew how agonizing that transition was. Now, he was standing in front of me with his suitcase again. His expression was blank, completely devoid of emotion. He even offered some generous advice: “Don’t overthink this. Eat well, focus on work. You do have a life outside of clinging to me, right?” I rubbed my sleepy eyes and casually replied, “Yeah. Drive safe.” Ian’s aloof expression stiffened slightly. He clearly hadn’t expected me to not even try to stop him. I took two steps toward the bathroom, remembered something, and turned back to remind him: “Did you pack your summer clothes too? If you can fit them, you should take them all today. Save yourself a trip later.” His face turned dark. He didn’t say a word, just slammed the door shut and left. My chest suddenly felt incredibly light. It was finally over. 2 Today was Saturday. I used to always beg Ian to spend the weekends with me. Later, Ian figured out the perfect way to deal with me. The second we argued, he’d grab his bags and leave. And he’d be gone for at least half a month. I was forced to get used to spending weekend after weekend alone. It only took a year for me to transition from writing paragraphs of hysterical texts, to feeling numb and detached, and finally, back to enjoying my weekends like I did when I was single. I made myself a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. After eating, I curled up on the couch with my cat and put on a horror movie. Outside, the sky was gloomy, and a cold winter rain was falling. I had the heater on, enjoying the cozy solitude. After the movie ended, I made a hot cup of tea and casually scrolled through Instagram. The very first post was from Ian. [Traveling for business with Ms. Sterling.] The photo was a selfie of him and Sarah at the airport, her arm slung casually over his shoulder. Sarah was his college classmate and business partner. They were very close. Every time Ian and I had a “Cold War,” they always ended up going on a long business trip together, just the two of them. The first time I found out, it ate me alive for a long time. I wasn’t sure if their relationship was purely professional, or if there was something more. Until the second Cold War, and the third. Without fail, Ian would drag Sarah out of state for “work,” leaving me alone in the apartment. I started obsessively calling and texting Ian, demanding to know what the hell he was doing. Why did he always go on a business trip the second we fought, and why was Sarah always with him? He usually took an assistant on business trips, but when he went with Sarah, they didn’t even bring one. Three days later, Ian sent a cold, brief reply: [Think whatever you want.] Then he went radio silent again. Not a single word after that. I knew right then that there was no point in continuing the relationship. Wiping my tears, my hands shaking, I typed out a few words: [Then let’s break up.] I locked my phone immediately to stop myself from going crazy and making a fool of myself. I buried myself in work to distract myself. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. I couldn’t even last three minutes before picking it up to check. It was a message in my work group chat. It was a push notification from an app. It was an automated birthday text from my bank. It wasn’t until 9:00 PM that a message with Ian’s name finally popped up. Two short, cold words. [Suit yourself.] I completely broke down, burying my face in my pillow and sobbing. While crying, I sent him a barrage of messages accusing him of never loving me. I listed out every single disappointment and instance of neglect I felt in our relationship, hoping to trigger even an ounce of guilt, hoping to make him realize he was a terrible boyfriend. But everything sank like a stone in the ocean, just like always. It was as if no one was on the other side. Or rather, he couldn’t even be bothered to read a single sentence. Looking at his Instagram stories, there were pictures of him and Sarah out to dinner with clients. It was a joyful scene, everyone laughing happily. It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. I clearly saw myself as a clown—jumping up and down, making a fool of myself, trying so hard. My rational mind told me very clearly that he was a piece of trash. I finally stopped sending messages. But my life became a blur. I forced myself to act normal around other people, but everything felt mechanical and numb. It was only when I dragged my exhausted body back to my empty apartment that I couldn’t stop myself from crouching on the floor and crying. I knew he was probably a horrible person. But I missed him so much. I knew I was useless and fragile, but just pretending to be a normal person exhausted all my energy. I let myself suffer in the dark, agonizing over him. I didn’t know when it would ever end. Until thirty-six days later, when he finally contacted me again. [Have you cooled down?] [Do you still want to break up?] I stared numbly at the message. It was a message that came too late. It couldn’t spark any anticipation or excitement in me anymore. I slowly typed out three words: [Whatever you want.] He sent a voice memo. “I got you a birthday present. I’m heading back now.” His voice was upbeat, carrying a smile, and I could hear a woman laughing next to him. That laugh was distinct. It was Sarah’s laugh. Even through the phone screen, I could picture the two of them stepping off the plane, looking tired from the travel but full of life and confidence. Not like me. Like a dirty, trapped animal pacing in a cage. All my pain and torment hadn’t affected Ian in the slightest. Everything I felt in this relationship was supposedly just me being overly sensitive, paranoid, and dramatic. While Ian was the magnanimous, stable one who put up with me. 3 My thoughts snapped back to the Instagram post in front of me. There were already several comments underneath. A: [You guys look great together, Mr. CEO.] B: [Nonsense, Sarah’s got both brains and beauty!] Ian: [Good eye.] C: [Out of town for a month? Leaving the missus home alone again, how are you gonna sweet-talk your way out of that one? #DogDoge] Ian: [We’re adults. Does she expect me to babysit her 24/7?] C: [True that, can’t spoil women too much.] Amidst all the nonsense, a glaring comment suddenly appeared. Chloe: [Girlfriends don’t need company, but female partners definitely need to tag along on every trip~] The “~” was practically dripping with sarcasm. Chloe was the girlfriend of Josh, the other male partner at Ian’s firm. I heard they were supposed to get married this year, but it was almost the end of the year and there was still no news. Her boyfriend, Josh, went on solo business trips with Sarah just as often as Ian did. Rumor had it that when Chloe’s mom was hospitalized and she was running herself ragged taking care of her alone, Sarah posted a cheek-to-cheek selfie with Josh under the Eiffel Tower. They said it was a business trip, but anyone else would have thought they were on a honeymoon. Chloe threw a massive fit over it. Even though they made up, their relationship was never the same, and marriage hasn’t been brought up since. When her comment popped up, the previously lively comment section seemed to hit pause. There were no new comments for a while. Just as I was about to scroll past, a new reply appeared. Sarah: [Little girls shouldn’t be so dramatic. Is business more important, or your petty little romance?] Sarah: [If you want to marry rich and get a free ride, just be a good little trophy wife. Don’t make a fool of yourself.] Chloe replied instantly. [Compared to certain people who can’t even take an assistant on a business trip and absolutely need a male partner to chaperone them every single time, I’m plenty independent at my own job. Who exactly is the trophy wife here?] It took ten minutes for Sarah to reply with three words. [You have no idea.] Ever since Chloe found out Josh was constantly traveling alone with Sarah, she and Sarah hadn’t gotten along. She took shots at her whenever she could, and even I was used to it. I closed Instagram and was about to make dinner when my landlord called. “Hey Avery, your lease is up next month. Are you planning on renewing?” I looked around the apartment. A spacious, bright penthouse. Out the window was the most bustling night view in the city. Back then, Ian kept telling me to move into his place. But I was always worried about living in someone else’s house and the risk of being kicked out, so I stubbornly insisted on living alone. He was very clingy back then. The next day, he stood outside my door with his suitcase, looking like a lost puppy. I had just entered the workforce and didn’t have much money. I was living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny 300-square-foot studio, way out in the suburbs. I knew Ian was used to a nice lifestyle. Making him live with me in that tiny apartment felt like I was wronging him. So, the moment I passed my probation period and got a raise, I bit the bullet and moved here. It ate up almost half my paycheck every month. “No, I won’t be staying,” I told the landlord. “I’m planning to move to the East Side.” It was closer to my office. And I wouldn’t have to leave the house at 6 AM every day to catch the subway. The landlord was surprised. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you say you liked this area because it was close to your boyfriend’s office?” “Yeah,” I replied softly, kicking at my slippers with my head down, and smiled. “We broke up.” The landlord was very sympathetic. After comforting me for a bit, she kindly recommended a moving company before hanging up. 4 My company was preparing to host a live-stream event at a mall recently. I took my new junior colleagues to coordinate at the mall. The juniors were two recent college grads, bursting with energy and enthusiasm. They even made us office veterans feel a bit more energetic. After wrapping up the setup that day, the two of them insisted on dragging me to a Korean BBQ spot, saying we needed to relax after working so hard. At the outdoor BBQ stand, I took a picture of the table packed with skewers under the warm, dim streetlights. The two guys leaned their heads into the frame, smiling brightly. I snapped the photo and happily posted it on Instagram: [Setup complete! I can finally have a real weekend tomorrow!] By the time I got home, it was past midnight. A message from Ian, which I hadn’t seen in a long time, popped up on my phone. He had sent a picture of himself having dinner with a client, almost like he was reporting in: [Heading back in a week.] [Got you a present.] I pretended I didn’t see it, sanitized my phone, plugged it in, and put it on the nightstand. Back when I first started getting the silent treatment, I would panic and send him messages like crazy, begging for even the slightest response. Later, I forced myself to try and get used to single life every time he left. I slowly stopped sending him messages. He, in turn, softened his Cold War strategy. He wasn’t as completely silent anymore. He went from sending one message a month, to calling every half a month, to once a week, to once every three days. What a blessing. A blessing anyone else could gladly take. After taking a shower and getting into bed, I saw Ian had sent a few more messages. [What did you do today?] [Tired from work?] [Asleep?] I muted his notifications. I didn’t delete him, didn’t block him, and didn’t reply. I was doing just fine without him. 5 There were still over twenty days left on my lease. I started packing my things early. Packing a little bit every day made it pretty easy. When Ian’s mother came over, she saw my apartment filled with cardboard boxes of all sizes. I had opened the door thinking it was my Uber Eats, completely off guard, and she barged right in. She was carrying a thermal lunchbox and kicked a cardboard box blocking the hallway with her pointed heels. Her voice was as overly familiar as ever. “Oh, Avery dear. Ian is out of town on a business trip. Did you two get into a fight about something? He’s so distracted at work now. He asked me to come check on you.” As she spoke, she walked straight into the apartment, sat down on the sofa, crossed her legs, and acted like she owned the place: “Ian specifically asked me to bring you food. I told him he’s being ridiculous. You’re twenty-six or twenty-seven, not a toddler. Do you really need someone to watch you eat?” I took a deep breath, turned around, and was about to speak when she suddenly looked around the room, frowning: “Ian always tells me how clean you are, but look at this place. How can a girl let her apartment get this messy? “Even though our Ian makes good money and won’t have a problem hiring a maid in the future, you shouldn’t be this sloppy, right?” My face darkened. Ian was a local, born and raised in the city. The exclusivity of the locals here was an open secret. Ian’s mother was the stereotypical local matriarch. She always assumed that any girl from out of town was scheming for her son’s money and a city residency. “Mrs. Sterling, Ian and I broke up,” I said as calmly as I could. It was like she didn’t even hear me. She even let out a soft scoff. But she quickly plastered a smile back on her face and looked up at me: “You just have too much of a temper. I always tell our Ian, he might not be able to handle the temper of an out-of-town girl. But he just won’t listen. Young people, right? They don’t know it hurts until they hit a brick wall.” Seeing my face getting darker, she laughed: “Don’t take it the wrong way, I’m not talking about you. Come, come, come, eat your food first.” She opened the thermal lunchbox, laid everything out on the table, took pictures from every angle, and sent them to Ian. “I have to report back to him, tell him I delivered your food. “I’m not trying to lecture you, but you’re not a kid anymore. When you throw a tantrum, you need to know when to stop. Ian is a businessman. If you keep ruining his mood, won’t it affect his work? How does that benefit you? “You need to settle down. You two are getting married next year. Best if you have a kid before the end of the year. That job of yours doesn’t pay much anyway, just quit early.” I let out an exasperated laugh. “Mrs. Sterling, did you not hear me? Ian and I broke up. I am not marrying him.” She pursed her lips: “Alright, alright, I’m too lazy to listen to this. You’ve just been brainwashed by too many TikTok videos. Thinking about staying single and childless, talking about ‘female independence.’ Independent this, independent that, you’re still spending my son’s money.” This wasn’t the first time she had said this. But every time she did, Ian never defended me, not even once. He would just calmly tell me afterward, “My mom is older, that’s just how she thinks. Don’t take it to heart.” Thinking about it now, maybe he actually agreed with her. He was just using his mother as the bad cop, subtly trying to put me in my place. I packed the lunchbox back up, shoved it into her hands, and pushed her straight out the door. Mrs. Sterling looked shocked, cursing as she stumbled backward: “What is wrong with you, little girl?! Is this how you treat your elders? You think you can marry my son acting like—” SLAM! As the door slammed shut, the apartment finally returned to peace. 6 The weather was beautiful on moving day. A few friends volunteered to come over and help. Chloe was a mutual friend of mine and Ian. She glanced at my face and asked: “Avery, why isn’t Ian here? His girlfriend is moving and he doesn’t even show up. What is he so busy with?” Another friend nudged her arm, laughing to smooth things over: “Isn’t Ian out of town? It’s normal that he couldn’t make it back.” Chloe didn’t say anything. A while later, she pulled me aside and showed me a post on Sarah’s Instagram. The background of the photo looked like a hotel room. Ian looked drunk, his eyes hazy, his face pressed against Sarah’s as they smiled. The caption: [Mr. CEO’s alcohol tolerance is lacking!] Chloe was furious: “Avery, didn’t you see Sarah’s post? What kind of person is she? There are three male partners at their firm, and she’s clinging to all of them. Look at this picture, what’s the difference between this and…” She lowered her voice: “What’s the difference between this and an intimate photo? “No matter how disciplined Ian is, he can’t withstand a woman throwing herself at him like this. Why haven’t you called him back? If you wait, something’s really going to happen!” I let out a bitter laugh, feeling somewhat helpless. “Chloe, Ian and I broke up over half a month ago.” Recently, Chloe wasn’t the only one who had shown me Ian and Sarah’s photos. I wasn’t the type to air my private life in public, but feeling that those two were haunting me like ghosts, I decided to post a status: [A clean break. A new beginning.] I tossed my phone on the table and went back to moving boxes. The morning flew by after a few trips up and down the stairs. My phone suddenly vibrated. I was carrying a heavy box with Chloe. My younger colleague, Tyler, glanced at the phone and called out to me: “Avery, do you want me to answer this? There’s no caller ID, it’s probably spam.” I casually replied: “Sure, answer it for me.” Tyler picked it up, his voice suddenly mature and deep: “Hello, who is this?” I don’t know what the person on the other end said, but he turned slightly away: “She’s really tired right now. Call back later.” I only heard that one sentence before walking out the door, feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I had taken a load of boxes downstairs and came back up that I asked, “Who was it?” Tyler looked innocent: “I don’t know. I asked, but they wouldn’t say. Probably a telemarketer.” I nodded and went back to moving boxes, but the phone rang again. Panting, I casually answered it. “Hello?” There was no voice on the other end, just the sound of someone breathing slightly heavily. I frowned at the screen. No caller ID. Annoyed, I raised my voice: “Hello? I’m hanging up if you don’t speak!” Tyler walked over with some strawberries he just bought. “Avery, take a break if you’re tired. I’ll go wash these.” Before I could say anything, Ian’s furious voice exploded through the phone: “Avery, what the hell are you doing?! Who is that guy?!” His voice pierced through the speaker, so loud that almost everyone in the apartment heard it. Feeling awkward and mortified, I walked to the other side of the room and lowered my voice: “Ian, are you crazy? We’re broken up. Stop calling me.” Ian let out a cold laugh: “When did I ever agree to break up with you? These past few days, I’ve been checking in on you, I even had my mom bring you food and drinks. What more do you want? What exactly do you want from me?” I suddenly fell silent. What was the point of saying anything to him? Didn’t I already know that this guy just didn’t understand human language? —Oh, it wasn’t that he didn’t understand human language. He just didn’t understand my language. I hung up the phone and blocked that number too. The move was successfully completed before 3:00 PM. After treating my friends to hotpot, we chatted and laughed before going our separate ways. Back in my newly rented apartment, my cat jumped onto the entryway cabinet and flicked her tail at me. I washed my hands, picked up the cat, and curled up on the balcony sofa. Outside the window, there were no more skyscrapers or neon lights. Just two patches of yellowish-green foliage wrapped around a dim, yellow streetlight. I remembered when I first graduated, living in that tiny 300-square-foot studio. I really enjoyed living alone back then. Because it was the first time I felt completely in control of my own life. Then I met Ian. The first two years with him flew by. I was so happy. Looking back now, it feels surreal, almost like a dream. By the third year, minor issues and small arguments started to crop up. But back then, all I had to do was shed a tear, and he would sigh, come over, and hold me. Sometimes he would slam the door in anger, but within half an hour, he would be back with cake, bubble tea, and flowers. By the fourth year, the arguments became frequent and intense. He became indifferent to my tears. There were no more apologies, no more listening. He just grabbed his keys and slammed the door. Until our first Cold War, which lasted over thirty days. He seemed to have discovered the “ultimate weapon” and used it flawlessly ever since. I was originally someone who enjoyed solitude. But after falling in love, I became clingy and lost myself. I couldn’t bear him not texting me for a day, let alone leaving for dozens of days out of anger. Every day without a response, I spent agonizingly overthinking everything. But I was never supposed to be like that. A healthy relationship shouldn’t be like that either. My cat meowed softly in my arms. The late March wind already carried a hint of spring warmth. I took a deep breath, feeling incredibly light. At this moment, I was no longer waiting for anyone’s message. I was fully enjoying the peace of the present.

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I stumbled upon a post online. [My wife and I created a fake account to add our daughter as a friend. Now, we’re her long-distance boyfriend. We know all her little secrets.] I instinctively scrolled past it, but the IP address caught my eye. I froze. What a coincidence. It was the exact same city I lived in. The next second, my online boyfriend sent me a message. [Baby, go to sleep early. No staying up late.] A warm feeling bloomed in my chest. I replied sweetly: [Going to sleep right now!] The moment I hit send, I heard the sound of my parents’ bedroom door locking next door. 1 I didn’t think much of it and quickly fell into a sweet, peaceful sleep. His name was Ethan. He was two years older than me, a sophomore in college. He was the first person I had ever met online. We clicked instantly. He was considerate, gentle, and patient. He would seriously listen to me vent about the little annoyances in my life. I was constantly amazed by how compatible we were. He could always guess exactly what I was thinking, quickly and accurately. —[You seem upset. Did you get into a fight with your parents again?] —[Do you want to talk about it? Maybe there’s just a misunderstanding between you guys? You have to believe that your parents definitely love you.] I rubbed my eyes and typed out my frustrations and confusion on the keyboard, hitting send. He was so smart. He could always pinpoint exactly what the conflict was. And his advice was always incredibly useful. I was quickly able to resolve misunderstandings with my parents and make peace. I started relying on him more and more. We made a promise: we would meet in person after I finished my SATs and high school graduation. When the time came, I promised I would apply to the university he was attending. 2 The next day, that post was updated. Someone asked: [Isn’t that kind of messed up? What if your daughter finds out?] The poster replied: [We’re doing it for her own good. She was dead set on leaving us. She was planning to apply to colleges all the way across the country. But now, she’s decided to apply to a local university. For a girl, it’s better not to be too far from home.] My breath caught in my throat. Ethan’s university was local. And before I met him… I had wanted to go to an out-of-state college. Because of that, my relationship with my parents had become incredibly strained. Ever since I was little, I had to follow their arrangements for absolutely everything. What school I attended, what books I read, what friends I saw, what clothes I wore. Even whether I did my math homework or history homework first. Even whether I drank my soup before or after I ate my dinner. I lived like a robot. If I ever voiced a disagreement, they would violently object. Then, they would put on a deeply wounded expression. “Mia, Mom and Dad are doing this for your own good. You’re breaking our hearts.” I felt like I was suffocating. During the days when I felt like I couldn’t survive another second, I frantically searched online for the most painless ways to leave this world. That was when Ethan found me. He didn’t try to talk me out of it. Instead, he enthusiastically researched different “methods” with me. We often talked late into the night. As we were chatting one night, he suddenly said: [It looks like the sun is about to come up. Let’s pause the hanging idea and go watch the sunrise first.] I thought he was so interesting. Without realizing it, I started pouring out all my feelings of oppression and the suffocating control my parents had over me. He replied slowly, but he patiently helped me analyze and process my emotions. He even gave me little tips and tricks on how to handle them. I tried communicating with my parents using his advice, and to my surprise, it actually worked. I managed to fight for a tiny sliver of freedom to breathe. Occasionally, I could decide what clothes I wore, and I could even choose to just eat my food and skip the soup. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to go to a college far, far away. I wanted a period of my life that was entirely under my own control. When I told Ethan about it, he replied happily: [Of course I support you! But I do have a tiny, selfish wish. I was hoping you’d be a little closer to me.] He sent a shy emoji. I belatedly realized what he meant. Clutching my wildly beating heart, I asked him: [Why?] After sending the message, I tossed my phone aside and buried my head under my blanket. For the first time in my life, I felt the flutter of a teenage crush. He sent a barrage of messages back. [Honestly, the first time we talked, I felt like you were different from anyone else…] [I like you.] [I’ll take good care of you and cherish you in the future. A beautiful girl like you deserves to be treated well…] My face burned red. My eyes were glued to that sentence: [I like you.] It was the first time anyone had confessed their feelings to me. The first time anyone had told me I was good. And just like that, we secretly started dating online. He would casually send me pictures of his campus. The cafeteria, the library, the tree-lined paths… [The food at the dining hall is pretty good. But it would definitely taste better if you were here with me.] [The AC in the library is blasting. If you were here and got cold, I’d give you my jacket.] [When autumn comes, this whole path will be covered in golden leaves. They say if a couple walks down this path together, they’ll stay together forever.] [I really want to watch the autumn leaves fall with you.] … I drowned in the sweetness of romance. The scales in my heart slowly tipped toward him. Finally. I said: [After graduation, I’ll come find you.] 3 I stared at the post on my phone for a long time. I looked up at my parents sitting across the dining table. They looked completely normal. For a moment, I hesitated. Maybe it was just a coincidence? When I went to my room to change my clothes, I thought about it. My fingers hovered in my closet. Instead of my usual jeans, I pulled out a skirt. My mom’s brow instantly furrowed. “Wear pants. That skirt is too short.” I looked down. “It’s past my knees.” My mom opened her mouth to object, but my dad gently tugged on her sleeve, shooting her a pointed look. They exchanged a glance. My mom sighed. “Fine, whatever you want.” She turned and walked into the bathroom. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed. Ethan sent a message: [Baby, I checked the weather. It might get cold today. Remember to wear a few extra layers.] I stared at the frosted glass window of the bathroom for a long moment. I looked down and replied: [Okay! Thanks for caring, baby.] I changed back into pants. My parents smiled, exchanged a look, and a satisfied expression appeared on their faces. My heart plummeted into my stomach. It wasn’t a coincidence. 4 I walked out the front door. The second I was sure I was out of sight from the living room window, I leaned against the brick wall of the building and started dry heaving uncontrollably. Disgusting. It was absolutely disgusting. With trembling hands, I tapped on the poster’s profile. He had updated the thread again. [This method works perfectly. She willingly tells us all her little secrets, and it makes her much more obedient and easier to manage.] [Like just now, she threw a fit about wanting to wear a short skirt. With a little trick, we pacified her instantly.] [And because we use a fake account, she’ll never blame us, her parents, no matter what happens. It doesn’t affect our relationship at all.] Fighting down my nausea, I scrolled through my chat history with “Ethan.” —[Baby, I missed you so much today.] —[I want to hold you.] —[Miss you. Kisses.] … I crouched on the sidewalk, my mind flashing back to the image of my parents exchanging those knowing, conspiratorial glances just moments ago. My stomach churned violently. So disgusting. How could anyone be so shameless? What were they thinking when they sent me those messages? Did they not feel sick to their stomachs? What kind of parents lure their own daughter into an online romance? And then confess their love to her? I couldn’t fathom it. How could a human being do something so utterly revolting? Just to satisfy their own sick need for control? And then try to justify it by saying it was “for my own good”? Shameless! 5 When I returned home, I forced myself to appear calm. Pretending to be casual, I asked: “Mom, Dad, if I started dating someone, would you be against it?” They exchanged a glance and forced smiles onto their faces. “Of course not. Mia, you know Mom and Dad are very open-minded.” I twitched the corner of my mouth into a smile. They had the most suffocating need for control, yet they always insisted they were “open-minded.” Before this whole “Ethan” online romance started, if I even touched my phone in front of them, they would hover over me, monitoring my searches and staring at my conversations with classmates. But after Ethan, they suddenly became incredibly “open-minded.” “Mia, you’re growing up. You need your own space. From now on, you keep your phone. Use it however you want.” At the time, I was so moved. I thought they had genuinely changed. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, my mom tested the waters: “Mia, why are you suddenly asking this? Is there a boy you like?” My dad quickly added: “Don’t worry, your mom and I aren’t old-fashioned. You’re about to go to college. If you want to date, we won’t object.” It sounded so normal. They sounded exactly like two supportive, understanding parents who only wanted the best for their child. It almost made me doubt myself. It almost made me think I had hallucinated that Reddit post. I lowered my head, staring at the tips of my shoes. “I met a guy online. He says he goes to a local college, he’s a sophomore. I’ve read a lot of stories online about scammers, so I was worried he might be lying. I wanted to ask if you guys could go to his campus and check him out for me.” I heard them both let out a quiet sigh of relief. They agreed readily: “No problem.” I looked up, staring at them in feigned surprise. “Aren’t you… going to ask how we met?” They froze for a second, then quickly scrambled to correct themselves. “Oh! Yes, right, right. How did you guys meet?” I made up a random story. They listened absentmindedly, zero genuine curiosity on their faces. They didn’t ask a single follow-up question about how far our relationship had progressed. 6 A few days later, they told me, “He’s a great young man. You need to work hard and try to get accepted into his university.” I dug my nails into my palms, forcing a smile. “But my teachers said that with my grades, if I push a little harder, I could get into a much better university out of state.” Their faces instantly darkened. They didn’t explicitly forbid it, but they didn’t agree either. Instead, they just started talking non-stop about how beautiful the local university was, and how close it was to home. They practically yelled it into my ears. “That school is really fantastic. It would be amazing if our Mia could go there.” “Yeah, she’d be able to come home and stay with us every weekend. So convenient.” I hugged my backpack and walked back to my room. Before closing the door, I looked back at them. “Dad, Mom, is that guy really that great? Did you actually see him? Are you sure he’s not a scammer?” Caught off guard, my dad blinked uncomfortably and mumbled, “We asked around. He’s not a scammer.” I nodded and shut my door. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.” Shortly after my door closed, my phone buzzed. Ethan sent me a picture of a university study hall. [I’m so jealous. Everyone else has their girlfriend here studying with them.] I didn’t reply. I opened that Reddit post again. It had gone viral. A lot of people were tearing into him: [I can’t even imagine how your daughter would react if she found out.] [This is terrifying. You’re a psychopath.] [Having you as parents is a literal curse.] He ignored all the criticism and only liked the comments praising him. Someone even asked him for advice: [I think this is a great idea, but I don’t know how to act like a teenager chatting with my kid. The generational gap is huge, I feel like they’d catch on.] The poster replied smugly: [It’s easy. Download an AI chatbot app. Whatever she sends you, just copy and paste it into the AI, and use whatever response it gives you.] I closed my eyes. So, all that deep understanding, that perfect harmony and empathy… that was where it came from? Fake. It was all completely fake. I bit down hard on my knuckle, unable to suppress a choked sob. The beautiful romance I thought I had found… behind it was something so horrifyingly, unspeakably ugly. 7 Because I hadn’t replied, Ethan sent a barrage of messages. I didn’t move. I leaned against the corner of my bed, listening quietly to the sound of pacing footsteps in the living room. It sounded frantic. After a while, the footsteps slowly approached my door. “Mia, can Mom come in and bring you some fruit?” The tone of her voice held absolutely zero intention of asking for permission. The moment the words left her mouth, the door was already being pushed open. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be fast asleep. My phone was tossed far away on my desk. I heard her whisper: “She’s asleep. No wonder she didn’t text back.” They quietly turned off the lights and backed out of the room. In the darkness, I opened my eyes, letting the tears fall silently down my cheeks. My phone, which had been buzzing with notifications every few minutes, instantly went dead silent. I had already asked a senior friend to look into it for me. At that local university, in that specific major, there was absolutely no one named Ethan. It was just another cage they had meticulously designed for me, pre-selecting my college and my major. 8 I created a burner account and left a comment under his post: [You guys really are dedicated parents.] Amidst a sea of insults, my compliment stood out. He seemed to think he had found a kindred spirit, and replied quickly: [Exactly! We parents break our backs worrying about her. This kid never talks to us about anything, we just wanted to understand her better.] Someone asked him: [I get your starting point, but I just don’t understand why you had to become her romantic partner? Wouldn’t playing an older sibling/mentor figure have worked? If she finds out, it’s going to cause severe psychological trauma.] He didn’t reply. In fact, because that comment started getting a ton of upvotes, he deleted it entirely. I let out a cold scoff. Swallowing my nausea, I praised him a few more times. Then, I sent him a direct message: [My kid’s situation is pretty similar. Please, I need advice.] Within minutes, he replied. [No problem! My kid is a total success story. I’m telling you, just follow my lead and it’ll work.] I pretended to be a frustrated parent, flattering him while asking for advice. Then, I screenshotted and screen-recorded every single message he sent me. He proudly detailed every single step of his deranged plan. [Just search online for compliments girls like to hear. Add a little bit of flirting to build the emotional connection. My daughter eats that stuff up.] As he spoke, he sent me a few screenshots. It was exactly the same messages he had sent me as Ethan. I took a deep breath. [Isn’t that a bit inappropriate? As a parent, saying those things to my kid… I feel like I wouldn’t be able to say it. It feels too weird.] He sent a ‘laughing behind his hand’ emoji. [It’s fine, bro. Haven’t you heard the saying? A daughter is her father’s lover from a past life. As fathers, we’re basically giving them some early dating experience so they don’t get tricked by toxic guys later.] I stared at those words, feeling something deep inside me completely shatter. What about my mom? Did she feel the same way?

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Married to the heir of the Sinclair Empire for two years, he had always treated me with icy indifference. One night, I got up to go to the bathroom, and he suddenly grabbed my hand. When I turned around, the corners of his eyes were rimmed with red, his voice trembling: “Lily Monroe, are you trying to abandon me again?” 1 I never expected to run into Oliver Sinclair. In the VIP lounge of an upscale club, Bella affectionately pulled my arm, introducing me to Oliver. “Lily, this is my best friend from London. She just moved back.” Oliver looked at me, raising an eyebrow, his tone lazy and drawling. “Oh? Just moved back.” The knuckles of his hand gripping his whiskey glass slowly turned white. Bella leaned in and whispered in my ear, “That’s Oliver Sinclair. The heir to the Sinclair Empire. We’re all friends here, so if you ever need a favor, you can go to him.” Oliver stared at me, his eyes bottomless and dark. I forced a smile and extended my hand. “Oliver, long time no see.” Bella looked surprised. “You guys know each other?” “Yeah, we know each other,” I said, my voice cutting through the loud music. “But we’re not that close.” Bella, always the carefree optimist, didn’t overthink it upon hearing my response. Oliver looked at me and let out a scoffing laugh. He tilted his head back and downed his drink in one shot. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. In the past, I used to love teasing Oliver. I’d grab him, press my face against his neck, and kiss and bite that exact spot. I’d watch his breath hitch, pull away, and leave him looking at me with misty, puppy-dog eyes. Oliver looked away, his gaze falling coldly on the screen behind me. “Yeah, definitely not close.” My extended hand hovered awkwardly in the air. Bella quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Well, the more you hang out, the closer you’ll get!” She patted my shoulder. “Don’t mind him, Lily. He’s just got a cold personality.” I gave a quiet “Mm.” Bella wanted to say more but was interrupted by the people around her. “Bella, your song is up.” “Lily, come sing with me!” Bella was in high spirits tonight and had clearly had a lot to drink. I was forcibly dragged along by her. In the corner of the room, a few girls were huddled around Oliver. Oliver sat with a dark expression, looking completely detached. But whenever a drink was offered to his lips, he didn’t refuse. This sent the girls, who were already thrilled just to be near him, into fits of excited squeals. The laughter from the corner was too loud. Bella jutted her chin toward Oliver’s direction. “Oliver’s acting totally out of character today. He usually doesn’t even spare a glance at girls like that.” I lowered my eyes and handed the microphone back to her. “Bella, it’s a bit stuffy in here. I’m going out for some fresh air.” Around the corner of the hallway, there was an open-air balcony. The cold, damp air sobered me up a bit. Oliver had his own reckless, vibrant life. And he and I were never meant to cross paths again. I leaned against the railing, staring blankly at the streetlights in the distance. The heavy sound of footsteps approached from behind. I turned around. Our eyes met. His narrow, pitch-black eyes were like a massive, inescapable net, ready to swallow me whole. Oliver’s voice was deadly cold: “Lily Monroe, how dare you show your face in front of me again?” 2 Our breakup was incredibly ugly. Oliver had escaped from the hospital to see me. Even though he was severely ill, he cooked an entire table of food for me. I don’t know where he heard it from, but he believed the saying, “The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.” But I always forgot to tell him that his cooking was genuinely terrible. All the food went straight into the trash. “Oliver, here are your keys. Don’t come back.” The IV catheter was still taped to the back of his hand. He tried to grab my hand, but I dodged him. Oliver was never known for his good temper, but at that moment, he forced a smile. “Lily, please. Let’s not break up, okay?” My response was a long, agonizing silence. “Lily, I know I have a bad temper and I get jealous easily. I’ll change. “From now on, you can wear whatever you want. You can go wherever you want, hang out with whoever you want. I won’t interfere.” A knock sounded at the door. I turned and opened it. Four or five burly bodyguards immediately swarmed in and pinned Oliver down. “Lily, you actually called my mother’s security team!” Oliver’s face paled instantly. His breathing grew rapid and ragged as he gasped for air. He was having an asthma attack. Out of habit, I reached for his pocket, but he didn’t have his inhaler. Taking advantage of my movement, Oliver gripped the hem of my shirt like a lifeline. Between violent gasps, he looked up at me. His hair was a mess across his forehead, and his beautiful, fox-like eyes were bloodshot and filled with moisture. He looked utterly defeated. He gasped, “Lily, if you think we’re breaking up… there’s no way in hell! I do not agree!” I pried his fingers off my shirt, turned my face away, and delivered my final, merciless blow. “Oliver, even if you die right here, we are breaking up.” Oliver was dragged away by the bodyguards. A few days later, my mother jumped off the roof of the hospital. There was no funeral. I took her ashes and left the country. It had been three years. 3 I lowered my head and tried to walk away, but Oliver stretched out his leg to block my path. “Since you’re here, aren’t we going to catch up?” I kept my eyes down. “We have nothing to talk about.” “Nothing?” Oliver scoffed. “Right, because even if I died right in front of you, you wouldn’t blink an eye.” He stared at me, his face as cold as ever, but the veins on the side of his neck were bulging. I looked at him and said softly, “Oliver, back then—” “Back then? You actually dare to bring up back then?” he cut me off, his tone turning vicious. “Back then, I was like an absolute idiot, holding onto hope, thinking you would soften. I lay in that hospital bed, hoping every single day that you would visit. And what did I get? You leaving without a single word.” He grabbed my wrist. His eyes were dark and heavy. “Lily, aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?” “You won’t,” I said, looking up at him. “Oliver, you won’t.” He clearly didn’t expect me to react this way. He froze for a second, and even his grip on my wrist loosened slightly. After a long moment, he gritted his teeth. “Lily, don’t think I won’t do it just because I still care.” “I’m no longer the pathetic idiot who let you play him, the one who just wanted to know if you cared when I was hurting.” “I know,” I said. “You know?” He laughed out of pure anger. “So you intentionally came here today just to make me miserable?” “I didn’t,” I defended myself quietly. “If I knew you were going to be here, I wouldn’t have come.” His face darkened, and his grip tightened significantly. “Lily, I really want to cut you open and see if you even have a heart.” The distance between us vanished. I could feel his breath on my face. In his eyes, there was a madness he could barely suppress. I struggled to break free. “Oliver, let me go!” He refused. Everything felt like an arrow pulled back on a bowstring, ready to snap. Until a voice came from behind us— “Mr. Sinclair, holding onto my girlfriend in public… isn’t that a bit inappropriate?” 4 Oliver’s pupils shrank instantly. His voice grew tight, dripping in disbelief. “Girlfriend?” “That’s right.” Noah Harrison walked over, gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and asked softly, “Are you okay, Lily?” I shook my head. Noah wrapped an arm around my shoulder, a polite smile on his face. “Lily just moved back. She doesn’t know all the rules of the city yet, so please forgive her, Mr. Sinclair.” Oliver lifted his gaze, his pitch-black eyes locking onto me. “Girlfriend?” My silence served as a confirmation. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Ready to detonate. A long moment passed. Oliver let out a mocking scoff, his eyes drifting lazily between me and Noah. “Well, isn’t that nice. You two are a perfect match.” Noah took my hand and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Sinclair.” Oliver pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He brushed past Noah. “Lily,” he stopped and looked at me over his shoulder, his brow arched, enunciating every word. “Welcome back.” Before I could even react, he disappeared down the hallway. Noah let go of my hand, looking apologetic. “Lily, it was the heat of the moment. I hope you don’t mind.” I shook my head. “Thank you, Noah.” Noah wasn’t my boyfriend. When I almost died in London, Noah was the one who saved me. I looked at him, worried. “Noah, Oliver holds grudges. You just moved back, and you haven’t even secured your footing in your family yet—” He cut me off, gently ruffling my hair. Like a warm spring breeze, he said, “I know what you’re going to say. It’s okay. I’ll be careful.” When Noah and I returned to the private room, the group was playing Truth or Dare. Oliver sat right in the center. As we walked in, Bella called out, “Lily, come join us!” I waved my hand. “No, thanks, you guys go ahead.” Bella turned, noticed Noah standing behind me, and teased, “No wonder you’ve been so distracted. The person you were waiting for finally showed up.” Oliver’s hand, which was spinning the bottle, paused. I quickly explained, “No, I just wasn’t feeling well today.” Noah pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. “What’s wrong?” The crowd started cheering and whistling. “Oh my god, feeding us dog food the second he walks in! Give us single people a break!” My face instantly burned. I brushed Noah’s hand away and shook my head. “I’m fine.” CRASH. A glass bottle shattered. “Oliver, your hand is bleeding!” The girl’s shriek shifted everyone’s attention. Oliver said casually, “My bad. It slipped.” “There aren’t any pharmacies nearby. Let’s order some first-aid stuff on Postmates.” Bella called out to me, “Lily, you usually carry band-aids, right?” Oliver was practically royalty, but when we were together, he loved doing little DIY projects to make me smile, and he always ended up clumsily cutting his hands. Over time, carrying band-aids became a habit for me. I hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I have some.” I held the band-aid out to Oliver, but he didn’t take it. “My hand hurts. I can’t put it on myself.” He stared straight at me. He had drank a lot tonight. His face was flushed, and his eyes were damp. I didn’t say a word. I just handed the band-aid to the girl sitting next to him. Her face lit up. “Oliver, I’ll do it for you—” “I don’t need it.” He stood up abruptly. The table shook, and a glass bottle clattered to the floor. His gaze shifted between me and Noah. “She’s not playing, so are you?” I nervously grabbed the hem of Noah’s shirt and shook my head. Noah patted my hand and looked at Oliver. “Mr. Sinclair, you should really take care of that wound first.” Oliver’s eyes darkened. His lips pulled into a sneer. “What? Too scared?” Noah smiled. “As you can see, my girlfriend won’t let me. I have to pamper her, right?” Noah paused and looked at Oliver. “If she breaks up with me over this, what am I supposed to do?” Oliver glared at me, his eyes burning with intensity. I turned my head, avoiding his gaze. “You guys are together?! Since when?!” Bella jumped in, looking shocked. “We’re friends, and you didn’t even tell me.” “It’s been a while,” Noah said, glancing at me. “When we have the time, Lily and I will treat everyone to dinner.” Oliver lowered his eyes. The blood from his fingers seeped into the pure white napkin. He radiated an icy chill. Bella wanted to gossip more, but I squeezed Noah’s hand and whispered, “Noah, I don’t feel well. Take me home.” 5 Noah drove me back to my apartment building. When I stepped out of the elevator, the hallway lights were out. Maintenance hadn’t fixed them yet. I fumbled in the dark for my keys. “Lily Monroe, you chose the wrong guy this time.” A familiar voice rang out behind me. I didn’t turn around. I just kept searching for my keys. “Noah Harrison looks successful, but he’s just the adopted son of the Harrison family. “The old Chairman is on his deathbed. Noah is going to be kicked out of the Harrison family any day now.” The key slid into the lock. “I know,” I said. Oliver grabbed my hand and pinned it against the door. “You know? “You know he’s about to lose everything, that he’s going to be kicked out like a stray dog, and you’re still willing to be with him?” My refusal to answer infuriated him. “Fine.” He let out a mocking scoff. “Since you love him so much, I’m sure you wouldn’t want him to lose the Westside Waterfront project, would you?” My head snapped up. “What do you mean by that?” Oliver chuckled, his tone careless. “What? Are you nervous? It’s just a tiny piece of land my family bought for fun.” With Chairman Harrison’s health rapidly declining, Noah desperately needed to secure his position within the family empire. The Westside project was the perfect stepping stone. He had been negotiating for it in secret for a long time but hadn’t been able to secure it. I never expected the true owner of that land to be the Sinclair family. I stared at him. “Whatever is going on between us, don’t drag other people into it.” Oliver looked at me like I’d just told a joke. “Did you forget? This is exactly the kind of person I am. “Selfish, ruthless, and willing to do whatever it takes. “I only pretended to be nice back then to please you.” I took a deep breath. “What do you want?” He lifted his gaze. “It’s simple. Break up with him.” I frowned. “Oliver, even if I break up with Noah, we—” “We what?” He sneered. “Lily, did you think I wanted to get back together with you? You think a little too highly of yourself.” He stared at me, his eyes burning. “Since you don’t want to be my girlfriend, then—” “Oliver,” I cut him off. “Let’s get married.” 6 “What did you say?” His grip on my wrist tightened abruptly. He froze, his face darkening. “Say that again.” “I said.” I placed my free hand over his. His hand was trembling. “Oliver, let’s get married.” “Get married?” He let go of me and took a few steps back, his face filled with mockery. “For Noah Harrison, you’re willing to trade your marriage.” “This has nothing to do with Noah,” I said, looking straight at him. “Are you willing to marry me or not?” He scoffed. “What? Are you trying to make me the official husband while you keep your side pieces on the outside?” He grabbed my chin. “Lily, I am not that generous!” I broke free from his grip. “Noah and I are just friends. He was only helping me out tonight. So, you don’t need to make things difficult for him.” Oliver’s eyes darkened, and his lips curled into a sneer. “So all of this is just because you’re worried I’ll cause trouble for him, right?” “Oliver, I’m telling the truth.” “Fine, even if you are telling the truth!” His jaw clenched, his eyes pitch-black. “Lily, am I a dog to you? “When you’re happy, you wave me over and pet me, and when you’re done, you kick me away. “You leave when you want, and you come back when you want!” His voice was tight with suppressed rage. “What do you take me for? Huh? “What makes you think I would ever marry you now?” I looked at him. The air grew heavy. After a long pause, I turned and twisted the door handle. “Okay, I understand.” “What the hell do you understand?” Behind me, Oliver’s voice was arrogant and cold. “Lily, if you think I’ll ever marry you in this lifetime, keep dreaming.” 7 I cut off all contact with Oliver. For the next two weeks, I was busy sending out resumes, looking for a job, and picking out a nice cemetery for my mother’s ashes. Just as I finished an interview one afternoon, Bella called and asked me out to dinner. I hesitated. “Is Oliver coming?” “Oliver?” She paused. “No, he’s not coming. He seems super busy lately, I have no idea what he’s up to. Why? Do you need to see him?” I let out a breath of relief. “No, it’s nothing. Send me the address.” “Don’t worry about driving, Noah said he’s going to pick you up.” That evening, in the private dining room at the restaurant. Before everyone arrived, I got up to use the restroom. I didn’t expect to run into Stella. She was dripping in jewelry, yet she still managed to look cheap. Like an over-decorated, obnoxious Christmas tree. “Well, well. Why didn’t you tell anyone you were back?” Stella looked at me, intentionally trailing her fingers over the stunning, flawless emerald pendant resting on her collarbone. “If Dad knew, he’d be so hurt.” I stared dead at the necklace, my throat tightening. “Take it off. Who gave you permission to wear that?” “Why should I?” She put on a look of mock realization. “Oh, I remember now. This belonged to your mother. “But what can you do? Dad already gave it to me. “If I felt like it, I could treat it like trash and flush it down the toilet.” I grabbed her wrist and yanked it hard. “I said it once. Take it off!” She yanked her hand back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Lily, why are you yelling? Do you still think you’re the precious, untouchable princess of the Monroe family? “You’ve been in London for three years. Has Dad called you even once?” She took a few steps forward, getting right in my face. “But you know, I really should thank your mother. Because she was so good at making money, my mom and I get to live this fabulous life now. “It’s just a shame she was destined for a short life. She didn’t get to enjoy any of it.” The next second— A crisp slap echoed down the hallway. Stella clutched her right cheek, looking at me in disbelief. “You hit me! You’re just a bastard child my dad had out of wedlock, why wouldn’t I hit you?!” Furious, she screamed, “Do you have any idea who I came here with today?!” I smiled. “Oh? Who?” “It’s—” SMACK! I clapped my hands together. “There, now it’s symmetrical.” Stella’s cheeks were bright red. She gritted her teeth and shrieked, “Lily, I’m going to make you wish you were dead!” 8 The commotion in the hallway drew a crowd. Stella was sobbing on her phone. Noah rushed over, his eyes full of worry. “Are you hurt?” I shook my head. Not far away, a man radiating arrogant, sleazy energy swaggered over. Stella threw herself into his arms, crying, “Cole, you have to teach her a lesson today.” Cole Preston looked over, his tone light and dismissive. “Ah, it’s Noah Harrison’s friend.” I lowered my voice and asked Noah, “You know him?” Noah nodded, stepping in front of me to shield me. He smiled. “There must be some misunderstanding. Please forgive her, Mr. Preston.” Seeing this, Stella tugged at Cole’s shirt, pouting and shaking her head. Cole’s tone shifted instantly. “Since she’s your friend, we’re all friends.” Then, his voice dropped into something much more threatening. “As long as she slaps herself in the face four times, right in front of the entire restaurant, we’ll call it even.” Noah’s expression froze. The hesitation lasted only a second. He steadied himself. “Mr. Preston, regarding this matter—” “I heard Chairman Harrison hasn’t been doing too well lately.” Cole casually twisted the ring on his thumb. It was an open secret in our social circle that Noah’s position within the Harrison family was incredibly precarious right now. I looked up at Noah. I couldn’t let my impulsive actions make his life even harder. Revenge is a dish best served cold. A few feet away, Stella looked overwhelmingly smug. I stepped around Noah. “Four slaps, right?” “Exactly.” Stella stepped closer to me, unable to suppress the triumphant smirk on her face. “Do it. I want to watch you do it closely.” I closed my eyes and raised my hand. The next second, my wrist was caught from behind in an iron grip. Over Stella’s shocked scream… Oliver’s cold, indifferent voice rang crystal clear in my ears. “You think you have the right to hit the person I want?” 9 Oliver hit much harder than I did. With one slap, he nearly knocked the silicone out of Stella’s cheek. The best part was, my hand didn’t even hurt. When Cole saw Oliver, his entire demeanor changed. He immediately piled on the sycophantic charm. “Oh, she’s Mr. Sinclair’s girlfriend! Please forgive me, it was a huge misunderstanding. We’re practically family!” “Family? Do you think you’re worthy?” Cole’s smile died awkwardly on his face. Oliver cast a cold glance at Noah, then grabbed my wrist and dragged me away. Behind us, Cole yelled out, “Mr. Sinclair, let’s grab dinner sometime soon!” In the restaurant’s garden. “What? This is the guy you picked?” Oliver looked at me, mocking. “I told you, Noah and I are just friends.” Oliver crushed his cigarette out. “You think I’m blind? The way he looks at you—it’s obvious he’s in love with you.” I kept my eyes down. “I don’t like Noah.” “What about me?” His voice was low, sounding like it took immense restraint to ask. “Do you still like me?” I looked up at him. The warm yellow lights illuminated his face, softening the sharp, aggressive lines of his brow bone. A long silence passed. “Oliver, I—” “Fine, don’t say it.” He stood up abruptly. “Tomorrow morning at 7:30. I’ll pick you up.” “Huh?” He turned his face away, speaking coldly. “City Hall opens at 8:00. Let’s get it over with early, I’m very busy.” I stared at him in silence. He forced a smirk. “What? Are you regretting it?” I shook my head and asked softly, “Why?” “No reason.” He leaned in close, his voice deep. “I finally caught the perfect opportunity to torture you. Why would I let you go?” I looked straight into his eyes. “Can we do it the day after tomorrow?” His expression changed instantly. “What kind of game are you playing now?” “Tomorrow I have an appointment at the cemetery to inter my mother’s ashes.” He froze. Even his voice grew infinitely softer. “Do you want me to go with you?” I shook my head. “You’re busy. I can do it alone.” “Don’t worry, I won’t run away,” I added, seeing his silence. He stood up straight. The evening breeze ruffled the hair on his forehead. His voice sounded almost ethereal. “Lily Monroe, you weren’t the one who was abandoned back then. “If you dare lie to me again, you’re dead.” 10 The night we got our marriage license, I moved into his mansion. But he didn’t come home all night. This went on for a long time. He was like a completely different person. Forget torturing me; we barely even saw each other. On the rare occasions we did cross paths, he treated me with icy indifference, acting like I was invisible. I could think of one reason why. But it seemed he realized I was trying to wait up for him, because lately, he stopped coming back to the mansion entirely. One night, I went to the beach alone. Back in London, when I was completely heartbroken and hopeless, it was Noah who pulled me out of the freezing water. Oliver ended up giving the Westside project to Noah anyway. The power struggle within the Harrison family was reaching its boiling point, and I didn’t want to distract him. I tried to call an Uber, but realized I forgot my phone. The night was growing late, and the coastal breeze was freezing. I pulled my coat tighter and started the long walk back to the mansion. When I arrived, the massive front doors were slightly ajar. Oliver’s furious, low roar echoed clearly into my ears. “Martha, I told you to keep an eye on her! How could you let this happen?! “She’s missing! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” Martha was trembling. “Sir, her things are still in the house. I’m sure she’ll be back.” “She won’t! She’s never coming back!” A vase shattered on the floor. “Why do I pay you people?! “Find her! If you can’t find her tonight, you’re all fired tomorrow!” I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. “Oliver, I’m home.” He snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot. The next second. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist so hard it hurt, pulling me flush against him. His voice was trembling. “Where were you?!” His grip was painful. I swallowed the pain and tried to soothe him. “Oliver, I just went for a walk by the coast, I forgot to bring—” He hugged me. I rested my hands on his back. His shirt was soaked with sweat. “Oliver, don’t worry. I won’t leave.” As if realizing he had lost his composure, he pulled away and immediately reverted back to his cold, aloof persona. “Me? Worried about you? Lily, don’t flatter yourself.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426742”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My roommate tossed her spare phone into my lap with a look of pure disgust. “This 35-year-old boomer is so annoying! Constantly making me memorize finance vocabulary, write market reports, and he even tries to control my weekend clubbing!” “It was just some online flirting. He’s such a control freak, acting like he’s my dad!” “But even though he’s a nag, he wires five hundred bucks for living expenses right on time every month. It’s perfect for a broke girl like you. The account is yours.” I didn’t bother responding, ready to get back to my textbook. Suddenly, a translucent floating comment appeared in front of my eyes: [Brooke is so adorably clueless! She has no idea her online fling is the multi-billionaire Wall Street legend!] [Is that control? He was literally grooming her to be the future Mrs. Billionaire!] [Just wait until the boss comes back to the States and realizes she swapped herself out. He’ll crush this stand-in side character and then start his groveling ‘chasing the runaway wife’ arc with Brooke.] I picked up the phone and smiled at my roommate. “I’ll take this burden off your hands, then.” A stand-in? A groveling arc? I didn’t care. I just wanted to ask the billionaire: Are there any shortcuts to getting into a top-tier business school? 1 Right in front of Brooke, I changed the phone number linked to the account and handed the spare device back to her. She took it, giving me a mocking look. “This cheap old guy might drop some coins, but his demands are psycho. He acts like a high school principal. Enjoy.” True, the designer bags the frat boys and trust-fund kids gave Brooke cost upwards of ten grand. Five hundred dollars a month was nothing to her. Brooke left for a date. The dorm quieted down, and I opened the chat with the profile that had no picture. The last message was from last night. [Read this week’s front page of the Wall Street Journal and send me an analysis report.] [Why aren’t you replying?] [You better fix your attitude and take this seriously. I don’t have time for your tantrums.] My eyelid twitched. I scrolled through their six months of chat history. It turned out they met on an elite financial forum. Brooke wanted to fish for a rich finance bro, so she played the part of a hardworking but impoverished straight-A student. This man, going by the screen name “N,” answered a few of her questions, and eventually, they exchanged numbers. Their conversations had absolutely zero flirting. It wasn’t “online dating” at all. It mostly revolved around: What books did you read today? How many economic models did you memorize? Are you following the latest fed rates? It was obvious he genuinely wanted to mentor her. Brooke’s English and grades were decent, so she took it seriously at first. But as time went on, she started faking sick, whining, or using ChatGPT to write garbage just to brush him off. At first, ‘N’ patiently corrected her mistakes. But lately, sensing her lack of effort, his tone had grown increasingly cold. Yet, he still transferred the $500 allowance right on time every month. In Brooke’s eyes, $500 wasn’t even enough for a nice pair of shoes. But to me—a genuinely broke student working four part-time jobs just to cover meals and textbooks—it was a godsend. The floating comments started rolling again: [N is Nathaniel Reed, the legendary titan of the venture capital world! A crumb of his insider info is enough to feed a normal person for lifetimes, and Brooke just gave him away?] [Does this cannon fodder Aria really think she struck gold? Nathaniel despises liars. When he finds out they switched, she’s dead meat!] I ignored the malicious text and focused on the message demanding an analysis report. I was a regular sophomore finance major. Because my family was poor, I couldn’t afford grad school prep courses. So I knew from a young age that studying was my only way out. I stayed up for five straight hours, reading last week’s financial briefs, looking up historical data, and writing a comprehensive report. After checking my grammar, I sent the document over. [I’m so sorry, I had my tonsils removed the past couple of days. Sorry for the late reply.] Fifteen minutes later, he replied: [You wrote this report yourself?] My heart clenched: [Yes.] …Another long silence. Then, a transfer notification popped up on the screen. $10,000. [Your angle is quite innovative. It’s worlds better than the empty garbage you were sending before. This is your reward.] [If you’re sick, rest. Goodnight.] Brooke’s “cheap old guy” casually dropped ten grand?! I stared at the zeros, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. The comments immediately turned sour: [WTF, this side character has insane luck! She got ten grand for one crappy report?] [Nathaniel only gave it because he values Brooke’s potential. Aria is just leeching off the female lead’s aura!] [Take it, take it. The more she takes now, the worse she’ll die later. Gold diggers never get a good ending.] I gritted my teeth and declined the transfer, sending the money back. N sent a question mark: [Not enough?] [No, no. It’s just that compared to money, I want an opportunity more.] [I want to apply to a top business school. Right now, I don’t have a good mentor, and I don’t have access to premium industry data.] […Could I be a little greedy and ask to borrow a premium Bloomberg Terminal account from you?] After I sent the message, it was like a stone dropping into the ocean. Half an hour passed. Nothing. I stared at the screen, my palms sweating cold. The comments started mocking me: [Looks like she crashed and burned! Playing hard to get, and now she lost the ten grand!] [What tier of a boss is Nathaniel? Did she really think he wouldn’t see through this cheap trick?] [Exactly. A regular college student wanting to get into Wharton? She thinks the boss is running a charity?] Just as I thought I had overplayed my hand and ruined this path, my phone buzzed. [Send me your detailed background information.] I immediately sent over a resume I had prepared long ago. I redacted my personal identifying info, leaving only my past grades and the simulated trading competitions I had participated in. The next day, I received a call from an unknown number. “Hello, I am Mr. Reed’s executive assistant. My last name is Hayes.” His tone was strictly professional. “The boss instructed me to meet with you to evaluate your specific situation. Are you available this afternoon?” I suppressed my excitement and forced a calm voice. “Yes, you can set the location.” 2 That afternoon, I changed into a clean, neat business suit and arrived at Mr. Hayes’s office on time. He looked me up and down, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. The comments popped up right on cue to dig at me: [This hillbilly really doesn’t know her place, wearing a cheap suit to meet Assistant Hayes.] [He’s Nathaniel’s right-hand man. He’ll see right through this fake.] My palms were slightly sweaty, terrified I’d be exposed. But to my surprise, he only flipped through my portfolio, completely unbothered by my identity. “The boss believes you have some foundation, but you are still quite far from the requirements of a top-tier Ivy League program.” I agreed. “It’s exactly because there is a gap that I need guidance. As long as you give me the resources, I will catch up.” “The boss doesn’t give out resources lightly.” Mr. Hayes closed the folder. “He can provide you with the terminal account, and even arrange a team of Ivy League-level private tutors for you. “The condition is, you must absolutely obey all arrangements and meet every single performance metric.” “I accept!” I answered without a second thought. He nodded. “Then starting today, your schedule and study plans will be fully taken over by us.” 3 Three days later, I moved out of the dorms and into an ultra-luxury penthouse suite at a five-star hotel. There was an entire wall of books, a high-end laptop, and three private tutors on standby. Every morning at 6 AM, I woke up to listen to global financial news. At 8 AM, I underwent hellish training on relevant financial concepts. The afternoon was high-intensity oral presentations and breaking down real-world corporate case studies. And at night, without fail, I had to report my day’s progress to N. His replies were always brief. Sometimes it was just a single “Read.” Other times, it was a long string of razor-sharp critiques. He really was like a strict principal, using high-pressure tactics to reshape my entire way of thinking. The cold words on the screen didn’t make me feel wronged; instead, a surge of excitement welled up inside me. So this is the world of the strong? No warm and fuzzy feelings, just pure competence. In the morning, N sent me a message. [You’ve made significant progress recently. I’m giving you half a day off today.] I got praised! I couldn’t help but smile. I went back to campus to grab a few books. Just as I pushed open my dorm room door, I bumped straight into Brooke. She was decked out in designer clothes, holding a luxury bag, looking absolutely radiant. Looking at the plain white T-shirt I was wearing, she scoffed out loud. “The straight-A student finally decided to come back? What, did that old man dump you?” “No, he’s been tutoring me lately,” I told the truth. “Tutoring you? Hahaha…” She laughed loudly, as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world. “Aria, is your brain fried? A loser you met online who can’t even afford a decent gift—what do you expect him to teach you? “Teach you how to survive on five hundred bucks a month?” She poked the English finance textbook in my hand with her freshly done acrylic nails. “Chad is becoming the VP of his family’s company next month. He promised to give me a cushy corporate job soon. “I suggest you get a grip on reality. It’s better to marry well than to work hard. What’s the point of burying your nose in these stupid books? You’ll still end up working for someone else and suffering.” I dodged her hand and said flatly, “Everyone has their own goals. Five hundred bucks is fine, and working is fine too.” I hoped I could suffer this kind of “hardship” for the rest of my life. With the “female lead” making an appearance, the comments naturally got active again: [If Brooke knew she gave up a multi-billionaire, she’d literally die of regret!] [Is this seriously the female lead? Look at that smug, gold-digger face. She looks way worse than the side character!] [Traitor upstairs, shut up! The male lead always belongs to the female lead, okay? Learn the rules!] [Just wait. When the male lead takes back all his resources, the side character is going to be ruined!] I ignored the comments and walked away with my books. Was he going to forcibly rip the knowledge out of my brain? Over the next two months, my progress was visible to the naked eye. N’s attitude toward me also underwent a subtle shift. He no longer just issued one-sided commands. Occasionally, in the early hours of the morning, he would send a few casual photos from his business trips abroad. 4 But late tonight, after reading my notes, he suddenly sent a message. [Brooke, your writing style has changed recently. It’s much more rational and analytical than before.] My heart skipped a violent beat, and the comments started cheering. [The boss is getting suspicious! The identity reveal is finally happening!] [Side character, your days are numbered. Get ready for the hurricane…] I steadied my breathing and typed rapidly on the keyboard: [I’ll take that as a compliment! People grow. Right now, my only focus is on improving myself!] A long time after the message was sent, N sent a voice memo. “Good. Keep up that drive and ambition.” This was the first time I had ever heard his voice. Deep, magnetic, and carrying a detectable hint of amusement. “I’m flying back to the States mid-next month. I’m hosting a private business gala. You will attend as my plus-one. It will be the perfect time to evaluate you.” After listening to the voice memo, my fingers tightened around my phone. This day had finally come. [Famous scene incoming! The ultimate showdown!] [Brooke is going to be there too! The real and fake online girlfriends meeting at the gala—just thinking about it is thrilling!] [Following the plot, Nathaniel is going to expose the side character on the spot, kick her out of the gala, and immediately go beg Brooke for forgiveness.] Looking at those blinding words, I secretly clenched my fists. I didn’t study day and night just to be someone’s stepping stone. 5 Mr. Hayes sent someone to deliver an evening gown a day in advance. Along with a fifty-page dossier on the guests. “The core assets and recent primary investment intentions of tonight’s VIPs are all in here. “The boss doesn’t need a trophy date for show. You need to memorize the dossiers of the top ten core figures. “Remember, all of it.” I didn’t dare slack off. I spent the entire night memorizing them until I could recite them backward. Not only that, but I also used the terminal account to dig up everything I could on the recent financial reports of the companies owned by those ten titans. No matter what consequences my identity reveal would bring, I had to prove I was worthy of the resources he had invested in me. That evening, the car pulled up to a sprawling estate on the outskirts of New York. The air smelled of champagne and cigars. Guests conversed in hushed tones. Behind seemingly casual chatter lay cash flows worth billions. I grabbed a glass of sparkling water and stayed in a quiet corner. I silently matched the faces in the room with the dossiers I had memorized last night. Suddenly, a familiar female voice broke my concentration. “Aria? What are you doing here?” I turned my head and, unsurprisingly, saw Brooke. She was holding onto the arm of a slicked-back, flashy young man, staring at me in shock. This guy was probably the “rich boyfriend” she had mentioned. “This is a top-tier business gala. How did a broke student like you sneak in?” Brooke stepped closer, lowering her voice, her tone dripping with malice. “Don’t tell me you hooked up with some sketchy waiter and came through the back door?” The comments floated by right on time: [Brooke isn’t wrong. Isn’t that exactly how the side character snuck in—by scamming Nathaniel?] [Just waiting for the boss to walk in and publicly expose this vain girl’s true colors!] [Rubbing my hands together in anticipation…] I gave Brooke a sideways glance, didn’t respond to her, and let my gaze fall on the man beside her. “Chad, isn’t it? Your father’s factory was just cited for failing environmental compliance last quarter, and the bank is threatening to pull your loans, right?” Chad had originally been eyeing me with a frivolous, sleazy gaze. Hearing my words, his face dramatically changed. I smiled slightly. “Instead of trying to help your family weather the storm, you have the leisure to bring a date here and show off. Your priorities are truly astounding.” “Who… who are you? How do you know this!” His voice was already trembling. They had been keeping this a strict secret. If word got out at an event like this, he’d be finished. “If I were you, I’d immediately go over to Mr. Liu from Vanguard Holdings and have a few drinks with him. He has a pool of idle capital right now that might save you. Instead of asking me pointless questions.” Chad followed the direction of my finger, his face turning pale. Finally, he glared fiercely at Brooke. “Didn’t you say she was just a bookworm hillbilly? How does she know more about my industry than I do!” He threw off Brooke’s hand and hurriedly walked toward Mr. Liu. “Chad! What are you doing!?” Brooke stomped her foot in anger, glaring at me through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you playing at? You think reading a few financial news articles makes you a big shot in this circle?” I couldn’t be bothered with her tantrum. A commotion at the front of the hall caught my attention. The main doors were pushed open from the outside, and the banquet hall instantly fell silent. A tall man walked in, his facial features deep and sharp. He only gave a slight nod in response to everyone’s greetings, but his mere presence shifted the atmosphere of the entire room. Nathaniel Reed had arrived. 6 [AHHH! The male lead is here! So handsome, save me!] [Aria’s execution date has arrived. The boss will definitely realize at a glance that she’s not the girlfriend he saw in videos!] [As soon as Brooke complains, Nathaniel is going to be furious and start crushing the side character.] Brooke also recognized Nathaniel. Even though she didn’t know this was her “cheap old guy,” almost everyone had seen that face. He was a regular on the covers of financial magazines. She smoothed her hair and instinctively straightened her posture. “Aria, you think playing a little trick to scare off Chad makes you a winner? The man up there is a true titan. You better behave yourself!” The problem was, I couldn’t just “behave.” I adjusted my breathing off to the side. The judgment was imminent, and it would be a lie to say I wasn’t nervous. After exchanging pleasantries with a few senior figures, Nathaniel looked past the crowd and began searching the room. He finally locked onto my corner and strode directly toward me with his long legs. The crowd automatically parted to make way for him. Brooke, blushing with excitement, put on a coy smile and stepped half a pace forward to intercept him. “Mr. Re—” She barely opened her mouth to greet him. Nathaniel didn’t even give her a fraction of a glance. He brushed past her and stopped squarely in front of me. He looked me up and down with sharp eyes. “Aria?” His deep voice was exactly the same as in his voice memos. The surrounding crowd broke into murmurs. Brooke froze in place, staring at us in absolute disbelief. The comments also lagged for a second before exploding into a string of question marks. [What’s going on? Why did he call the side character… Aria?] [Right, shouldn’t he be calling her Brooke? He actually knows her real name!] [Oh my god, did the boss know they switched a long time ago?!] Looking at the wildly scrolling comments, I was also stunned. Where did I slip up? Was it really my writing style… Brooke had clearly recognized Nathaniel’s voice. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Mr. Reed… your voice is… N? “B-babe! I’m right here! Don’t you remember me?” Her pitch suddenly went shrill. She pointed at me and yelled. “You’ve got the wrong person! She’s my roommate! I’m the Brooke you’ve been texting for half a year!” The room fell dead silent. Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between the three of us. Nathaniel turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping coldly over Brooke’s face. “Brooke? I don’t know you. I only know her name is Aria.” It wasn’t until his eyes met my stunned expression that the chill in his gaze seemed to melt slightly. Brooke stood to the side, trembling with rage. “Babe! Don’t let this vain woman fool you! I gave her that account! She just wanted the living expenses you were sending! “You and those five hundred dollars should have been mine! I only let her take it because she was so poor and I felt bad for her!” Nathaniel finally looked her straight in the eye, but his gaze was filled with pure disdain. “You? You aren’t worth five hundred dollars.” Those words were like a physical slap to Brooke’s face. “The resources I provide only belong to those capable of catching them. Whether it’s connections or money. “Since you already traded the opportunity away, stop embarrassing yourself here.” Mr. Hayes appeared right on cue, bringing two security guards to forcibly escort Brooke out. She struggled wildly, screaming. “What are you doing! Let me go! Babe, I’m your real girlfriend! Aria is a complete fraud!” But no matter how much she screamed, Nathaniel didn’t spare her another glance. The guards efficiently covered her mouth and dragged her out of the venue. After a brief pause, the comments boiled over again. [The boss knew they switched the whole time?! Then what kind of roleplay has he been doing all this time?] [He pretended not to know so he could secretly play a ‘grooming a protégé’ game! OMG, why is this so cute?!] [What the hell is going on? Not only did the male lead not get mad at the side character, he kicked the official female lead out?!] [What happened to exposing her true colors? What happened to the groveling arc? The plot is broken, and their character arcs are completely wrong!] [Um… am I the only one who thinks the way the male lead is looking at the side character is intensely romantic?] Nathaniel shifted his gaze back to me, offering his arm, a very faint smile appearing in his eyes. “Stop spacing out, Ms. Aria. The evaluation begins now.” I took a deep breath, forced down the tidal wave of shock in my heart, and took his arm. 7 For the next two hours, whenever someone threw a question our way, Nathaniel skillfully deferred to me. Relying on the dossiers I had practically memorized until the pages fell out, and the business intuition I’d built under his intense pressure, I answered flawlessly. I could feel the gazes that had initially dismissed me slowly changing their tune. By the time the gala ended, I was physically exhausted, but mentally, I was in a state of unprecedented hyper-arousal. I did it. I didn’t embarrass him. That also lessened my guilt significantly. Late that night, the car drove smoothly down the highway. I turned to look at the man resting his eyes beside me and asked the question I’d been holding back all night. “When… when did you know I wasn’t Brooke?” Nathaniel answered with a question of his own. “You too. You didn’t seem surprised by my identity at all?” I coughed dryly. I couldn’t exactly tell him I had a cheat code. Nathaniel slowly opened his eyes. “After reading your very first analysis report, I knew.” “Huh? Just from one report?” He chuckled deeply. “The stuff Brooke sent was always very colloquial, filled with translation software junk and rambling. “Your logic was rigorous, filled with professional terminology. It was obvious you did the research and possessed independent critical thinking. “You can fake your appearance, but you can’t fake your brain.” I sighed. A titan is a titan. My little tricks were nothing in his eyes. No wonder Mr. Hayes never brought up my identity from the very beginning. “Since you knew it was someone else early on, why did you still provide me with such incredible study resources?” Nathaniel leaned slightly toward me. “I don’t run a charity, but I do know how to invest.” His tone was relaxed, revealing a very straightforward admiration. “I had Mr. Hayes run a background check on your real identity. “A girl from a poor background, working four jobs a day, yet still maintaining the top GPA in her major. Faced with the temptation of ten thousand dollars, not only did you not take it, but you used the opportunity to negotiate for a much bigger chance. “Your ambition and execution showed me a very high ROI. My firm needs talent like you.” My heart beat uncontrollably faster. He didn’t blame me; instead, he gave me incredibly high praise. I forced myself to stay calm. “So, did I pass the evaluation? How do you plan to arrange things for me next?” Nathaniel suddenly leaned close and unbuckled my seatbelt for me. His warm breath brushed past my ear, and I was so nervous I held my breath. “Move into one of my penthouses temporarily tomorrow. Before you get into business school, you’ll join my firm as an executive assistant.” He pulled back half an inch. “Aria, don’t fall behind. I’m very much looking forward to the day you truly stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me.” [Lifting you up to become a better version of yourself! Who can resist this kind of elite mentor boss?! Answer me!] [As expected, the adult world relies on value exchange. That’s the only way to maintain an absolutely stable relationship.] [Hey? Did you guys notice? Nathaniel’s gaze is so intense. He’s absolutely fallen for the side character!] I didn’t see that last comment. At that moment, I couldn’t stop my lips from curving upward. I had never felt so lucky in my entire life.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “426741”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the holidays, my brother added his brand-new girlfriend to our family group chat. My mom instantly redirected her matchmaking artillery at me: [Look at your brother. Look at the amazing girl he found.] My brother, who had betrayed the “Single Forever” alliance by getting a girlfriend first, fanned the flames in the chat: [Zoey, you have no idea how perfect she is.] If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I replied: [Yeah, yeah, yeah. If she’s so great, I’ll just date my sister-in-law.] The group chat fell dead silent for a full minute. Then, my mom and my brother sent back-to-back 60-second voice memos screaming at me. Meanwhile, my “sister-in-law” simply replied with a blushing emoji. They all thought I was joking. But I’m actually gay. 1 In previous years, because my older brother Connor was a confirmed bachelor, he took all the heat when it came to our mom’s relentless pressure to get married. I could always hide safely behind him and enjoy a peaceful holiday. This year, before flying home for Christmas, I specifically texted him to double-check: [Do you have a partner yet? Tell me you didn’t betray the alliance.] Connor was reliable as always: [Nope. Come home in peace. I’ll take the heat again this year.] I replied with a thumbs-up emoji: [You’re a real one!] It wasn’t that I didn’t want to find someone. It was just that if I actually brought a woman home, Mrs. Hayes—my mother—would probably disown me on the spot. To preserve our mother-daughter relationship, I kept the closet door welded shut. Whenever she nagged me, I just deflected it onto my brother: “Connor isn’t even married yet! It’s not right for the younger sister to date before the older brother.” Mrs. Hayes would immediately shift targets, scolding Connor for not setting a good example. This year, she dropped an ultimatum in the group chat, using both the carrot and the stick: [This Christmas, whoever brings a partner home gets a $10,000 holiday bonus. Whoever comes back single can forget about calling me Mom!] When Mrs. Hayes got angry, the whole family trembled. I texted Connor: [Bro, do not turn on me. Stay strong.] He took half the day to reply: [Don’t worry. I’ve got this.] Despite his reassurance, my right eyelid kept twitching. Sure enough, the day before my flight, Connor suddenly added a new person to the “Hayes Family Hub” group chat. [Everyone, let me introduce Audrey Mitchell. She’s my girlfriend, and I’m bringing her home for the holidays.] Audrey immediately followed up: [Hello, Mrs. Hayes. Hi, Zoey.] I opened a private chat with Connor and fired off three question marks. What happened to not betraying the alliance?! Connor didn’t reply. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hayes sent several voice memos to the group. I clicked on them, and they were filled with her joyous laughter and overwhelming words of welcome. I played dead. Was it too late to cancel my flight? After practically showering Audrey with affection in the chat, Mrs. Hayes finally remembered the one fish that slipped through the net: me. [Have you found anyone yet?] [I’m not asking you to get married tomorrow, but at least start dating!] [Look at your brother. Look at the amazing girl he found.] Not only did Connor ignore my private texts, but he also joined in on the bullying: [Zoey, you have no idea how perfect she is.] I could practically see the gloating smirk on his face. He had zero remorse for his betrayal. My anger flared. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em: [Yeah, yeah, yeah. If she’s so great, I’ll just date my sister-in-law.] 2 The group chat fell dead silent. A minute later, Mrs. Hayes and Connor sent back-to-back 60-second voice memos. Audrey simply replied with a blushing emoji. They didn’t take me seriously. But I was genuinely gay. Ignoring the bombardment of messages in the group, I sent Connor one last private text: [The alliance officially strips you of your brotherly privileges. You’re dead to me!] After hitting send, I closed my eyes to sleep. I needed to rest up so I could handle Mrs. Hayes’s artillery. Sure enough, the moment I stepped through the front door, Mrs. Hayes started with her sarcasm. “Oh, whose stray kitten is this? Did you wander into the wrong house?” My skin is thick. I hugged her and acted cute. “My wonderful, beautiful mother, your sweet daughter is home!” Her eyes held a smile, but she kept her face stern. “If you were really sweet, you’d get married. Your dad visited me in a dream the other day. He said seeing you and your brother still single makes him toss and turn in his grave.” My dad passed away when we were young. My mom raised us single-handedly. Later, when Connor and I moved away for work—him to Miami and me to New York—we tried to get her to move in with us, but she refused to leave her hometown. I lit a candle by my dad’s portrait on the mantle and joked, “Dad, Connor brought someone home this year. You can finally rest easy and close at least one eye.” Mrs. Hayes was so annoyed she raised her fists to lightly pummel me. I spun around and ran toward the kitchen. “I’m starving! I want your crispy fried chicken wings!” Mrs. Hayes yelled from behind me, “I didn’t make any!” But sitting right there on the kitchen counter was a fresh, steaming plate of crispy wings—timed perfectly for my arrival. Classic Mrs. Hayes: sharp tongue, soft heart. I pouted and said sweetly, “Thank you, Mom!” Mrs. Hayes busied herself pulling various snacks out of the cabinets. “Alright, alright, enough sweet-talking. Text your brother and ask how far away they are.” Just the mention of Connor made me irritated. That traitor still hadn’t replied to my private message. I slumped onto the sofa and sent a voice memo: “Mom wants to know how long until you get here.” This time, he replied quickly with a voice memo of his own. I tapped it, but a woman’s voice came through: “Your brother is driving. We’ll be there in about ten minutes.” My scalp tingled. That deep, slightly husky, elegant voice absolutely destroyed me. Where the hell did Connor find a girl with a voice like that? Before she even walked through the door, I was already intensely curious about Audrey Mitchell. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. I sprang up from the sofa. Mrs. Hayes rushed to the door with a massive smile. Connor’s booming voice came first: “Mom, your favorite son is home!” Then came Audrey’s voice: “Happy holidays, Mrs. Hayes.” As the three of them exchanged pleasantries in the doorway, Mrs. Hayes turned around, smiling so hard her eyes crinkled shut. Both her hands were full of gifts Audrey had brought. When Connor, who was blocking my view, finally stepped aside, Audrey’s tall, slender figure came into view. She stood there and slowly raised her eyes to look at me. Oh, my god. This woman was my absolute dream girl! Seeing me frozen in place, my mom urged, “What’s wrong with you? Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Say hello.” I looked at Connor. He was reasonably handsome, sure. But then I looked at Audrey. She was a drop-dead gorgeous, top-tier beauty. What did Connor do to deserve this?! The confusion slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it: “Sister, does my brother have some kind of blackmail material on you?” 3 Audrey froze for a second. When she processed what I said, she broke into a radiant smile. Her eyes seemed to hold sparkling galaxies. I was completely mesmerized. Connor’s expression turned incredibly weird, and uncharacteristically, he didn’t say a word. Mrs. Hayes glared at me. “What is wrong with you? How could you say that?” She turned to Audrey, looking embarrassed. “Zoey is spoiled rotten. Please don’t mind her.” Audrey replied gracefully, “Not at all. Zoey is very cute.” The pretty lady called me cute. While Audrey was pulled away by my mom for a chat, I sidled up to Connor and kicked his shin, lowering my voice. “Spill it. What is going on?” Connor rubbed his nose, his eyes darting away. “What do you mean, what’s going on?” He quickly ducked into the kitchen. “Hey Mom, what do you want for dinner? Let me show off my cooking skills.” Something wasn’t right. He was intentionally avoiding me! In the living room, my mom and Audrey were chatting animatedly. I couldn’t get a word in edge-wise. Connor was busy cooking dinner, and since I had zero culinary skills, I couldn’t help in the kitchen either. Bored out of my mind, I retreated to my bedroom to play video games. I got on voice chat with my gaming buddy, Jess. As we played, the conversation inevitably drifted to Audrey. I described her with wild enthusiasm, totally losing myself in the excitement. Finally, with the dramatic agony of someone whose wife had been stolen, I punched my mattress and sighed: “She is literally my exact type.” My headphone cable accidentally yanked out of the jack, and Jess’s hyena-like laughter blasted loudly through my bedroom speakers. Always eager for chaos, Jess yelled, “Then steal her from your brother!” At that exact moment, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I was lying on my stomach on the bed. I twisted my head around and saw Audrey standing at the half-open door. “Dinner’s ready. Your mom asked me to come get you.” The air went dead silent for three seconds. Then, Jess’s voice echoed loudly from the speakers: “Holy sh*t!” I frantically jammed the headphone cable back into the jack and scrambled to sit up. Through my headset, Jess was screaming about how Audrey’s voice was “literally lethal.” In front of me, Audrey’s lips were curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. That sentence about “stealing her from my brother”… how much of it did she hear?! 4 Throughout dinner, that single thought consumed my mind. I was so panicked I didn’t even dare to look up at Audrey sitting across from me. Yet, she was incredibly attentive to me. One minute she was putting food on my plate, the next she was serving me soup. If someone didn’t know better, they’d think I was the guest. The conversation at the table had originally been about her and Connor. But one sentence from Audrey suddenly turned the spotlight on me. “Zoey, do you have anyone you like?” I choked on a bite of rice, looking up to glare at her. Why are you bringing this up?! But she ignored my glare and pushed further. “What are your standards? I… have some friends with great backgrounds.” Mrs. Hayes, feeling like she had found an ally, immediately answered for me. “That would be wonderful! Zoey, say thank you.” But the way I saw it, this was Audrey’s polite way of rejecting my “stealing her” comment. I felt a pang of annoyance in my chest, though I knew I had no right to feel that way. A mischievous, slightly petty urge took over. It was my small revenge for her turning the conversation to me: “Then I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Audrey. As for standards… I think someone exactly like you would be perfect.” Mrs. Hayes flicked my forehead. “Stop talking nonsense. Audrey is a woman.” I rubbed my forehead, keeping my fragile closet door tightly shut. “I know that. I mean finding a guy with the same qualities as her. That works, right?” Mrs. Hayes laughed. But the instigator of the conversation, Audrey, saw her eyes darken. She didn’t put any more food on my plate for the rest of the night. She was a strange one. I played along with her, and she still got mad. And despite being mad, she still had to sleep in the same room as me tonight. I only had one bed in my room. Since she was the guest, I volunteered to sleep on the floor. But Mrs. Hayes waved it off. “You’re both girls, sleeping in the same bed is fine, right, Audrey?” My mom was a completely clueless, straight-as-an-arrow woman. Audrey lowered her eyes and agreed immediately. This made me doubt whether she actually heard my “stealing” comment or not. But right now, that wasn’t the most pressing issue. The most pressing issue was that Audrey, fresh out of the shower, was wearing a very thin, breezy silk slip dress. Even though the heating in the house was blasting, the moment she stepped out of the steamy bathroom, she still shivered slightly. I glanced at her, but quickly lowered my head, staring intensely at my phone to cover up my panic. I looked calm on the surface, but my mind was screaming. The only thing I could see was the brief, accidental glimpse of her full figure and those two very prominent, undeniable points. She wasn’t wearing a bra. 5 I had laid out a soft, clean rug on the floor next to the bed. I sat on the floor, leaning against the bed frame. I felt like I was floating, absolutely terrified to let my eyes wander. Audrey stood by the window, blow-drying her hair. The loud whirring of the hairdryer masked the sound of my heart, which felt like it was about to pound right out of my chest. Even though I had already showered, the back of my neck grew hot again, breaking out in a light sweat. I was seriously debating whether I should go squeeze into my mom’s bed for the night. My brain was completely short-circuiting. I didn’t even realize when the hairdryer finally stopped. When I snapped back to reality, a pair of pale, bare feet appeared in my line of sight. I looked up and crashed straight into Audrey’s scrutinizing gaze. I stammered, “W-what’s wrong?” Audrey leaned down. From this angle, a garden of spring colors filled my vision. “I called your name several times and you didn’t react. What are you spacing out for?” She was such a strange person. In front of Mrs. Hayes, she was gentle, graceful, and elegant. But when we were alone, her aura felt so overpowering I almost wanted to drop to my knees and call her “Ma’am.” My legs felt weak, my eyes darted everywhere, and I just kept blinking, absolutely refusing to look straight ahead. After her shower, she smelled exactly like my body wash. The faint, sweet scent was intoxicating. I leaned as far back as I could, but my back was against the bed. I had nowhere to retreat. She noticed me hiding. She pulled back, stood up straight, and looked down at me, her brow furrowing slightly as she spoke in a cold voice: “If you really don’t want to share a room with me, I can book a hotel and stay there.” If she did that, Mrs. Hayes would literally murder me. Besides, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to stay with her; I just didn’t dare to. Before I could even reply, she grabbed her coat and started walking toward the door. In a panic, I scrambled forward on my knees across the rug and lunged to grab her wrist. How was this any different from kneeling and begging? “Look at you, getting all impatient! I never said I didn’t want to. I’m just a little slow to react. What are you doing?!” Audrey stopped, looking down at my hand wrapped around her wrist. She said meaningfully, “Your reaction time really is very slow.” It felt like she was talking about what just happened, but also like she was talking about something else entirely. I awkwardly let go of her wrist, stood up, and sat back on the edge of the bed. Trying to steady my breathing, I patted the mattress. “Do you prefer sleeping on the inside or the outside?” She flipped off the light switch. In the darkness, her voice drifted over. “Either is fine.” As her silhouette moved closer, I panicked, scrambled onto the bed, and plastered myself against the wall on the inside. Audrey paused by the bed for a few seconds before finally lifting the blanket. That’s when I realized Mrs. Hayes had only left us one large comforter. Which meant Audrey and I were truly sharing the same bed, under the same covers. If my gaming buddy Jess found out, she would probably be jumping up and down screaming. I pressed my back against the cold wall, putting as much distance between us as possible. From the moment she lay down, she didn’t move an inch. Her breathing was steady, her sleeping posture perfectly composed. Just as I thought she had fallen asleep, a warm body shifted closer. Then, a soft arm brushed against mine, and a voice completely devoid of emotion whispered: “Cold.” Because I had intentionally pulled away earlier, there was a gap between us letting cold air into the blanket. Wearing only a thin slip dress, of course she was cold. My entire body went rigid. I said dryly, “Then… tomorrow I’ll ask Mom to get another blanket.” “No need. Just sleep.” She was too close. I was terrified she could hear my heartbeat. I stared wide-eyed at the dark ceiling, completely unaware of when I finally drifted off. That night, I had a dream. I dreamt there were dozens of huge, soft, fluffy, sweet-smelling marshmallows. I had one in my left hand, one in my right, and I was eating them happily. But when I woke up, I was horrified to discover… The soft, fluffy marshmallows from my dream might have actually originated from the woman in front of me… whose chest was incredibly soft and full. 6 Before we fell asleep, we were both perfectly well-behaved. But waking up to find myself buried in her chest, tightly wrapped in her arms… what the hell was going on?! Oh God, I’m a sinner. I didn’t dare to move a muscle. Listening to the sounds outside the door, my mom and Connor were already up. It wouldn’t be long before Audrey woke up too. My brain worked at lightning speed, trying to figure out a way to break this awkward embrace without waking her up. But before I could come up with a plan, her eyelids fluttered. She was about to wake up. I immediately squeezed my eyes shut, played dead, and threw the impossible problem into her lap. A few seconds later, Audrey stirred with a soft groan. When she realized what was happening, her entire body stiffened. But unlike me, she quickly relaxed. However, she didn’t make any move to let me go. I could feel a heavy gaze locked onto my face, and her warm breath brushed against my skin. My muscles were slowly cramping up from the tension. Just as I was about to crack and open my eyes, she gently released me. The sound of the mattress shifting as she got up, the rustle of clothes as she stood by the bed, and the soft click of the door opening and closing. Listening closely, I finally concluded she had left the room. I let out a massive sigh of relief and slowly opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the white ceiling. White. The marshmallows in my dream were also so white. Realizing what I was thinking about, I quickly sat up. But when I saw the person leaning against the bedroom door, I almost screamed. Audrey hadn’t left the room at all. She was looking at me with a half-smile, tilting her head as she asked: “Did you sleep well last night? I didn’t disturb you, did I?” 7 Actually, I slept great last night. But she definitely disturbed me. Otherwise, why would I have dreamed of grabbing giant, fluffy marshmallows with my bare hands? I lowered my head and mumbled, “It was fine.” Audrey seemed to be in a great mood. Only then did she open the door and leave. I flopped back onto the bed, kicking the blankets, gripping my hair, screaming silently in frustration. “Oh, right.” The person who just left suddenly popped back in. I immediately sat bolt upright. Audrey’s eyes were dancing with amusement, but her face was completely serious. “I slept wonderfully last night.” She glanced at my head. “Your bedhead is very unique.” With that, she turned and left. I swear I heard her laugh! It’s all my fault for being blind. I thought she was a cool, mature goddess, but she was actually completely devious. And the freshly baked biscuits on the breakfast table only made my vision go dark. After last night’s dream, anything “fluffy” and “round” was a banned word for me. But the clueless Mrs. Hayes found it strange. “Didn’t you always love these biscuits for breakfast? Why haven’t you taken a single one?” Everyone at the table stared at me, including Audrey. I picked up my bowl, chugged my oatmeal in one breath, set it down, and fled. “I’m full, you guys take your time.” My mom called out from behind me, “Don’t run off just yet. In a bit, you and your brother are going to the supermarket to buy groceries for the holidays. I’m going to the farmer’s market.” I absolutely refused to be a third wheel. I frantically winked at Connor. But he completely missed the signal. Instead, he said, “Zoey, you take Audrey. I’ll go with Mom to the market. I’m cooking New Year’s Eve dinner tonight, so I know exactly what ingredients I need.” Mrs. Hayes thought this was incredibly reasonable. She beamed at Audrey affectionately. “Audrey, pick out whatever you want to eat, and let Zoey pay for it.” Unable to disobey my mother, it ended up being just me and Audrey going to the supermarket. The store was packed with people doing their holiday shopping. I pushed the cart, and Audrey initially followed a step behind me. But as the crowd grew denser, carts bumping into each other, Audrey eventually slipped one arm around my waist, resting her hand on the cart’s handle. She was practically half-embracing me. With her free hand, she grabbed things off the shelves, occasionally leaning down to softly ask if I wanted something. This silent, seamless care radiated ultimate “big sister” energy. My face inexplicably burned, and I didn’t dare to meet her eyes. When she leaned down to ask me a question for the nth time, she finally noticed something was wrong. “Why is your face so red? Are you feeling sick?” I desperately fanned myself with my hand, trying to cover it up. “It’s probably just because there are so many people. It feels stuffy.” This time, she firmly wrapped her arm around my shoulders, navigating us out of the crowd until we reached a relatively empty aisle. She pulled out her phone and brought up her QR code. “Add me on WhatsApp. Send me the shopping list, and I’ll go get the rest.” “No, it’s fine. I’m okay,” I said embarrassedly. After all, “stuffy” was just a convenient excuse. But she stubbornly held her phone out, her expression leaving no room for argument. And just like that, I added her. “Sorry for the trouble.” I stood in place, staring blankly at the bustling, noisy crowd, feeling a sudden, strange sense of loneliness wash over me. I suddenly wished that, in this massive world, there was one person who existed entirely for me. Audrey was incredibly efficient. Not long after, she returned with the rest of the groceries. She was tall and strikingly beautiful. Everywhere she walked, people turned to look at her. She navigated through the crowd, walking straight toward me, and finally stopped right in front of me. My wandering gaze found its focus, locking onto the face of the woman in front of me. Audrey dropped the items into the cart. One hand gripped the handle, while her other hand gently wrapped around my wrist. Her voice was soft. “Let’s go home.” My ears rang for a second. I want to steal her from my brother. 8 That thought flashed through my mind for a split second. It was so strong that when we got home and I saw Connor, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and subconsciously avoided him. Connor noticed. A few times he looked like he wanted to say something, but I always found an excuse to do something else and dodged him. Somehow, I made it to the evening. The whole family sat in the living room watching the New Year’s Eve broadcast. Mrs. Hayes got tired early, handed out our red envelopes, and went to bed. In previous years, it was always just me and Connor staying up till midnight. This year, there was an Audrey between us. They occasionally exchanged a few words, mostly Connor talking to Audrey. I was curled up on the sofa, texting Jess. She was mercilessly roasting the TV performances in the chat, and I couldn’t stop laughing. The other two in the living room looked over at the sound. Connor, always the gossip, asked, “Who are you chatting with? You’ve been grinning at your phone all night.” Audrey didn’t say anything, but her eyes were also fixed on my phone. I put my phone away, sat up straight, and stared at the TV. “Nobody. Just a friend.” “A boyfriend?” Connor teased. I instinctively glanced at Audrey. She had lowered her eyes; I couldn’t read her expression. “A girl.” Even Connor didn’t know about my sexual orientation, so he didn’t think much of it. Instead, he started lecturing me: “Why do you always hang out with girls? You need to expand your social circle, meet some guys. You can’t stay single your whole life…” He found a girlfriend and immediately started lecturing me. I was already annoyed because of the intrusive thought I had earlier that afternoon. I grabbed a throw pillow and whipped it at him. “You’re so annoying! Mind your own business.” Connor threw his arm up to block it. “I’m your brother. If I don’t look out for you, who will?” The pillow deflected off his arm and bounced straight into Audrey. Both of us instantly went dead silent. Connor scrambled like a loyal lapdog, snatching the pillow away and smiling apologetically at Audrey. “Sorry, sorry! Did that hurt?” Seeing them made me incredibly irritated. I snapped, “Just focus on your own relationship. I’m going to bed.” Connor’s face darkened. “Stop right there. Did you eat gunpowder today? Who made you mad? Staying up for the countdown was Dad’s tradition. Now that he’s gone, you won’t even listen to your older brother, is that it?” I looked up at Dad’s portrait. The man in the picture was smiling warmly, but I felt a sudden urge to cry. I sniffled and sat back down without saying a word. Seeing this, Connor’s aggressive posture deflated. He explained awkwardly, “Hey, you’re not actually crying, are you? I wasn’t trying to yell at you.” I hugged the throw pillow, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m not crying.” My phone chimed. It was a Venmo transfer from Connor. The amount was generous. He kept his eyes glued to the TV. “New Year’s gift from your brother. We good?” I didn’t hesitate. I tapped accept. “We weren’t even fighting.” He reached over Audrey and ruffled my hair. “Little gold digger.” This time I didn’t complain. I quietly let him mess up my hair. Audrey, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly spoke up softly. “You two are very close.” Connor looked quite proud. “Of course we are.” The TV was playing a cheerful comedy sketch, and the live audience laughed constantly. But as I watched, I grew increasingly silent. Connor was right. We had a deep bond as siblings. Despite our bickering, ever since Dad passed away, he automatically stepped up as the person who protected me. I couldn’t steal his girlfriend. Just past midnight, Connor took us downstairs to light firecrackers and fireworks. He even specifically gave me and Audrey a few sparklers to play with. Audrey and I stood in a safe spot, watching Connor light the firecrackers in the distance. As the fireworks shot into the sky and the firecrackers popped, I lit the sparkler in my hand. Without looking at Audrey beside me, I stared at Connor’s back in the distance. “Audrey, happy New Year. I hope you and my brother have a sweet relationship and stay together forever.”

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In the book, I was the kind-hearted adoptive mother who took in two orphaned sisters and nurtured the older one into a master pianist. Once she achieved fame and fortune, she publicly claimed that being adopted by me robbed her of her childhood, leaving her with nothing but endless piano practice. Overnight, I became the most despised “monster mother” on the internet. After I died in a car crash, those two sisters drove my biological daughter to suicide and stole my entire fortune. The day I transmigrated into this book, I was at the orphanage looking for a playmate for my daughter. The “prodigy” girl stared at me stubbornly. “Ma’am, if you don’t adopt my sister too, I won’t go with you.” “Then stay here,” I said coldly. 01 After I rejected her, Bella clenched her little sister Mia’s hand, staring at me with pleading eyes. I glanced at Mia, then looked back at Bella. “Your last name is Smith, and hers is Jones. You aren’t real sisters, are you?” Bella immediately took a half-step forward, shielding Mia completely. “Ma’am, Mia looks up to me like a big sister.” Losing her earlier defiance, she softened her voice, “Please, adopt both of us!” “Mommy.” Mia ran out from behind Bella and hugged my waist. “Please! Take us with you!” I didn’t respond. Bella’s eyes darted around, then landed on my biological daughter, Melody, standing beside me. “Melody, didn’t you want a friend to play with?” “Mia and I can play with you. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Melody clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, her lips pressed together. In the book, Melody was obedient and quiet. As she grew up, she was bullied and driven to a mental breakdown by these “good sisters,” eventually fleeing the state. It wasn’t until my husband and I died in a car crash that Melody rushed back for one last look. But she was blocked at the funeral home by Bella’s people. Mia pointed her finger at Melody’s nose and screamed in front of everyone: “You never came back while Mom and Dad were alive!” “Now you come back pretending to be a dutiful daughter? You just want to fight for the inheritance!” Right now, they were acting sweet and innocent, but the moment I adopted them, they would team up to target Melody. I looked at the two kids and remained silent. The director hurriedly told the staff to take them outside. “Mrs. Miller, these two are very close. They just don’t want to be separated.” The director smiled apologetically at me. “I’ll go talk to them. Bella is a sensible girl. She’ll go with you.” I wasn’t the original host of this body; I could see right through Bella’s manipulation. All she had to do was flap her lips, and boom—she’d drag Mia along with her, securing a loyal henchwoman in my house. Even better, by making the director “persuade” her, she would look like she was forced to accept the adoption, earning a reputation as a selfless, devoted sister. “Director, forget it!” I glanced at Bella, who was hiding outside the door. “I originally came here to find a companion for my daughter. “If we forcibly separate those two, the one I adopt will harbor resentment. She’ll just end up bullying my daughter in the future.” The director’s face changed slightly. “How could that be!” “The fact that Bella made that request proves she’s a deeply loyal child! If you’re good to her, I’m sure she’ll repay you when she grows up!” “Repay?” I patted Melody’s head. “I have my own child. I didn’t come here looking for a return on investment.” In the book, I threw endless money and resources at Bella, turning her into a master pianist. I also set Mia up with a glamorous corporate job. And the result? Once they became successful, they completely forgot about me, their adoptive mother. We lived in the same city, yet they never visited or even called. During an interview, Bella publicly declared that her childhood under my supervision was nothing but endless, joyless piano practice. Overnight, I became the internet’s most hated “monster mother.” To clear our heads, my husband and I drove out to see Melody, but we got into a car accident and both died. After our deaths, Bella and Mia immediately returned to fight Melody for the estate, teaming up to drive her to suicide. Thinking of this, I didn’t want to stay another second. I took Melody’s hand and left. I really wanted to see how high those two sisters could climb without my resources. 02 When we got home, my husband, Arthur Miller, looked past Melody and me, searching behind us. “Where is she?” “Weren’t you going to pick up that girl? Why is it just you two?” I bent down to take off my shoes. “She didn’t want to come.” “Impossible!” Arthur blurted out. “I had an agreement with her.” I looked up at him. Arthur was a renowned pianist. He was obsessed with finding a prodigy to inherit his legacy. He had forced Melody onto a piano bench before she was even three years old. Now ten, the tips of her fingers were covered in thick calluses, but all she ever got from him was a dismissive, “You have no soul.” This trip to the orphanage was supposedly to find a playmate for Melody, but it was actually to adopt Bella, whom Arthur had his eye on. Last week, he had performed at a charity event at the orphanage. After he finished a piece, Bella, who had been standing in the corner, stepped forward and played it back almost perfectly. She only missed three notes. Arthur’s eyes lit up instantly. “Do you want to be my student?” Bella nodded eagerly, but then nervously mentioned that kids at the orphanage weren’t allowed to just leave whenever they wanted. That night, Arthur came home and said to me, “Melody is too lonely. Let’s adopt a kid to keep her company.” When I read the book, I didn’t understand why he didn’t just say he wanted an apprentice. Instead, he used Melody as a constant foil for Bella, comparing them until Melody was so bitterly disappointed in this family that she left. Since he was still lying to me, I played dumb. “The girl said so herself.” “Unless we take her ‘sister’ from the orphanage too, she absolutely refuses to come with us.” Arthur froze. I looked displeased. “I originally agreed to adopt a child because I thought you were too strict with Melody, and I wanted her to have a friend. “But if that girl insists on bringing someone else, what happens when they team up to bully Melody?” “Don’t assume the worst of people.” Arthur brushed it off. “It’s just an extra kid! Taking them both back is no big deal. It’s just another mouth to feed.” “Adopting a child isn’t like shopping at a buy-one-get-one-free sale!” I glared at him. “Arthur, I do not agree to adopting those two girls.” Arthur stared at me like I was a stranger. At that moment, a cold little hand gently grabbed mine. Melody was trembling slightly. I squeezed her hand tightly and turned to lead her upstairs. 03 The next day, I was wearing an apron, cooking in the kitchen. Arthur came home, followed by a skinny little figure. It was Bella. She peeked at me timidly and whispered, “Auntie.” I didn’t respond, staring straight at Arthur. He patted her shoulder and said gently, “Bella, this is your home from now on.” Only then did he look at me. “This kid has a gift for music. It would be a tragedy not to nurture it, so I brought her home.” “So, saying you wanted to find a playmate for Melody was a lie?” I slammed my kitchen knife onto the counter. “Is it really that hard to just admit you wanted an apprentice?” “What did you want me to say?” Arthur’s face darkened. “Did you want me to tell you that your biological daughter has zero talent? You would have just thrown a fit.” “Why would I throw a fit?” I scoffed. “You didn’t pass your musical genes down to your daughter. Shouldn’t you reflect on yourself first?” In the book, Arthur always blamed me for Melody’s lack of musical talent. If he wanted to gaslight me now, I was going to throw it right back in his face. Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you looking at? Did I make this kid by myself?” I rolled my eyes at him. “Since you look down on Melody so much, starting today, she doesn’t need to practice piano anymore.” “Nonsense! She’s been practicing for years. How can she just quit?!” “Didn’t you say she had no soul?” I picked up the knife and aggressively smashed a clove of garlic. “Now that you have a star pupil, do you just want my daughter sitting there as a prop to make her look better?” Arthur’s face turned pale. “What the hell are you talking about?! I would never use Melody as a prop.” “Auntie, I don’t have to learn piano from Mr. Miller.” Bella quickly chimed in from the side. “I just want a place to eat in this house. That’s all.” Before Arthur could promise her anything, I stared him down. “If you force Melody to keep practicing piano, this kid is not stepping foot in this house.” “Choose.” 04 Arthur chose to keep Bella. When Melody came home from school and found out she didn’t have to practice piano anymore, her eyes lit up. Then, she looked at Bella. “Are you going to change your last name to Miller?” Bella immediately shook her head. “I’m keeping my mom’s last name. It’s the only thing I have left of her.” “Keeping your mother’s maiden name, huh.” I glanced at Arthur. The book mentioned that his first love was also a Smith. “It’s just a last name. It doesn’t matter,” Arthur interjected smoothly. Bella looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Dad.” I studied them. Their facial features weren’t particularly similar. But just in case, I took hair samples from both of them and secretly sent them for a paternity test. The results came back exactly as I suspected: they were not biologically related. I put the report in my bag and went home. As soon as I opened the door, I heard Mia’s shrill voice from the living room. “I’ll hit you, you hear me?!” I didn’t alert them. I stood in the entryway and watched Mia point aggressively at Melody. “If it wasn’t for putting Bella in a tough spot, I would’ve ripped your face off!” “You broke my stuff, and now you’re trying to hit me?” Melody was shaking with anger. “What ‘your stuff’? Since Mr. Miller adopted Bella, this is her house too!” “Alright, stop arguing.” Bella intervened softly, turning to Melody. “Sister, I didn’t know that doll was yours. I saw Mia liked it, so I let her play with it.” “Before you guys came here, I was the only child in this house.” Melody fought back tears. “If the doll isn’t mine, whose could it be?” “You’re just jealous that Mr. Miller is teaching Bella piano.” Mia suddenly shoved Melody hard. “Who cares about your stupid doll! It’s your fault you don’t have any talent!” With that, she threw the doll on the floor and aggressively stomped on it with her shoe. Melody fell to the floor. Red-eyed, she tried to scramble up to hit Mia, but Mia kicked her leg, tripping her again. I rushed over and pulled Melody up. Seeing me, she threw herself into my arms and burst into tears. In the book, because she was afraid of causing arguments between Arthur and me, she always swallowed the abuse silently. The two “sisters” purposely bullied her when I wasn’t looking, and even set up traps to make it look like Melody was the one bullying them. Mia panicked when she saw me. When she realized what was happening, she tried to hug me. “Mom! You’re back!” “Don’t call me that.” I shoved her away. “Since when do I have a daughter like you?” Mia stumbled and hit the living room wall, bursting into loud, obnoxious tears. 05 Arthur came out of his study and looked at Melody. “What’s all this noise?” I sneered. “So you are home!” “Those two teamed up to bully Melody, and you’re deaf?!” Arthur’s face darkened. “Watch your tone.” “Melody is an only child; she doesn’t know how to share. Both of these kids are younger than her. What’s wrong with letting them have their way?” I walked over and slapped him hard across the face. Then, I raised my leg and kicked him to the floor. He groaned in pain, unable to get up for a long moment. The three kids were stunned. Bella and Mia covered their mouths in terror. Melody snapped out of it and tried to go help him. “Don’t.” I stopped Melody. “Save yourself the trouble before your confused dad takes his anger out on you.” I pulled the paternity test report out of my bag and threw it at Arthur. “Anyone else would think Bella was your biological daughter.” “Your actual daughter gets bullied by two orphans right in front of you, and you take their side?” Arthur looked down and flipped open the report. A few seconds later, his head snapped up, his face even more furious. “Avery! Have you lost your mind?!” “This paper says Bella and I have no biological relation!” “You did this behind my back? Do you have any respect for me?!” “Respect? I didn’t agree to adopt Bella, but you brought her home anyway.” I pointed at the terrified Mia. “And while I was out, you brought another one back.” “She pointed right at Melody’s face and called her talentless, saying she deserved to be ignored by you! And you hid in your study.” “Arthur, since the day I married you, what have I ever done to cause you stress?” “But you? Besides calling your daughter stupid and useless, what have you ever done?” “If it wasn’t for you constantly belittling her, do you think these two orphaned girls, who haven’t even been in this house for a minute, would dare to trample all over her?!” Arthur’s pupils shrank. Bella’s face turned pale, and she bit her lip, terrified to make a sound. Melody stood beside me, trembling at first. But as she listened to my words, she slowly straightened her back, looking at her father with a quiet, almost unfamiliar gaze. I pulled out the divorce papers I had drafted earlier and placed them on the coffee table. “Sign it.” “There’s no place for my daughter and me in this house anymore.” “Keep your precious prodigy and your pitiful orphan. I’m taking my daughter.” I grabbed the luggage I had packed earlier and led Melody toward the door. Arthur scrambled up from the floor, roaring, “Avery! Are you using divorce to force me to send Bella away?” “Mia is just here as a guest! I haven’t filed any adoption papers for her!” Seeing that I didn’t stop, he raised his voice. “It’s easy for you to take Melody now, but it won’t be so easy to support her on your own!” I looked back at him. “Arthur, I’m not asking for a divorce to force you to send anyone away.” “I actually want a divorce.” He froze, looking like he didn’t understand. I didn’t explain further. I held Melody’s hand and walked out the door. 06 I walked away from the Miller house with Melody, never looking back. She was very quiet the whole way, her small hand tightly gripping the hem of my shirt. It wasn’t until I brought her into the apartment I had rented that she looked up and gently hugged me. “Mom.” She sounded anxious. “Did you really divorce Dad just for me?” I knelt down and looked into her eyes. “Not just for you. For both of us.” “A home shouldn’t make you feel like you have to hold your breath.” I smoothed her hair. “Mom just wants to watch you grow up happily. You can become whatever you want. If you don’t like something, that’s perfectly fine.” She buried her face in my chest and softly called me “Mom.” In the book, Arthur was also a pawn. He exhausted all his energy turning Bella into a star, only to be stabbed in the back. After transmigrating, I had considered changing his fate. But he stubbornly insisted on adopting Bella, and today, he sat in the house while those girls bullied Melody. It made me realize that not all storylines can be completely overturned. I didn’t consider telling Arthur the original plot. If he thought I was crazy and threw me in a psych ward, my transmigration would be pointless. Leaving that house—even though my bank account was low—I knew that my knowledge of the plot would allow me to give Melody a great life. 07 A few days later, Melody came home from school, her eyes shining as she looked at me. “Mom.” Her voice carried a rare chirp of excitement. “My music teacher said I sing really well.” “She also said she wants to recommend me for the city vocal competition.” “What do we need to prepare?” I asked with a smile. She instinctively pressed her lips together and gripped her shirt—her nervous habit. “But.” Her voice dropped. “Dad always said I didn’t inherit his musical talent.” “What if I don’t win an award?” I patted her head. “It’s about participating!” “Besides, you already passed your Level 10 piano certification this year.” “Melody, it’s not that you don’t have musical talent.” “It’s that your dad’s standards are too narrow. If your music teacher wants to recommend you for a competition, she definitely sees your strengths.” She looked at me, her eyes slowly turning red, and nodded firmly. That night, after watching TV, I walked past Melody’s room and heard singing. I leaned against the wall outside, not going in to disturb her. Even if a child truly has talent, if they are never seen or validated by the people closest to them, they will be like a dusty crystal, slowly losing their light. That light might be hidden in a hesitant, cautious attempt, or in a warm, encouraging smile. A parent’s eyes shouldn’t be those of a judge. They should be the first ones clapping for their child. 08 Five years after my divorce from Arthur, my stock investments paid off. Not only did I buy a luxury condo, but I also opened a flower shop. Melody won the city vocal competition championship back then and got into a top-tier high school. Afraid of Bella’s “main character” plot armor bouncing back, I enrolled Melody in MMA classes. She grew taller, more confident, and vibrant. She was no longer the little girl who shrank back when her father called her useless. I occasionally thought about the insecure Melody from the book. She wasn’t untalented; her father was just too eager for her to succeed, and her mother blindly followed his lead. Add in the two “sisters” trying to steal her adoptive parents, and they constantly smothered her light. I never planned on seeing Bella again. Until she pushed open the door of my flower shop and walked in timidly. The fifteen-year-old girl actually looked more haggard than Melody, who was currently a high school senior. She was swimming in an old, oversized coat I had left behind years ago. The cuffs were frayed. “Auntie.” She approached me cautiously. “Mr. Miller misses you and Melody a lot. When are you going to come home and visit him?” “Does he not have a mouth, or does he not have legs?” I snipped a flower stem. “You’re the one who wants me to come back, aren’t you? After all, living with a man who only cares about music can’t be easy.” “Auntie, I admit I was greedy back then. I wanted Mia to have a home too. “I figured adopting two of us was just adding an extra plate to the table for you. I never expected you to divorce him.” “Did you come here today to criticize me?” I put down the shears and looked at her. “No.” Bella shook her head frantically. “It’s been five years, and Mr. Miller still can’t get used to my cooking.” I stared at the cracked shoes on her feet, realizing that Arthur only cared about having a talented prodigy; he completely neglected their actual care. In the book, whenever I bought something for Melody, I bought the exact same thing for Bella. I also gave her an allowance every month. But after I left, Arthur’s world fell apart. After the divorce, he threw himself entirely into his music and didn’t care about the household at all. Forget about food and clothes—he didn’t even know how to pay the utility bills. Five years ago, when I left with Melody, he was certain I’d come crawling back begging him. Instead, I bought a house, opened a business, and thrived. He had tried to reconcile with a condescending attitude, but I rejected him. I heard later that he dumped all the household chores onto Bella, who was only eight at the time. But what did her miserable life have to do with me? I definitely didn’t want that mess back. “Didn’t Arthur adopt Mia?” I rejected her directly. “You got your wish. And now you want to guilt-trip me into coming back to take care of you?” “No, I just…” “Don’t come back.” I pointed at the door. “My divorce has nothing to do with him adopting you.” Bella looked at me, full of grievance. “But you came to the orphanage to adopt me back then. “Are you saying you hate me just because I suggested adopting Mia too?” She looked down. “When I said that back then, I just wanted to look like a kind-hearted kid.” Even now, Bella was still trying to guilt-trip me. “A truly kind kid doesn’t put others in a difficult position.” I smiled and patted her head. “Go back. Don’t let Arthur worry about you.”

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