I used to think Oliver’s “baby syndrome” was just his way of showing how deeply he loved me. We sent over two hundred SnapChat messages a day, and he insisted on eating my home-cooked meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He would FaceTime me for a kiss whenever he was exhausted from working overtime, and he’d act clingy at parties, begging me to feed him fruit. I got used to this for three years. But right before our wedding, his childhood friend Vivian found me. She looked at me with a patronizing, pitying smile. “Do you honestly believe a CEO actually has ‘baby syndrome’?” “I came up with that for him. It was just a test to see if you were suitable to be his wife.” “But you two can’t get married. Because the spot next to him belongs to me in the end.” As it turned out, it was all just a test he set up for me. I sat frozen for a long time, then called my best friend, Chloe. “Chloe, I don’t want to get married anymore.” “Well, thank God you finally woke up. Stop talking nonsense and get back to your bed. Your IV drip is almost done,” Chloe grumbled over the phone. I looked down at the cold food container in my lap, my eyes stinging. Half an hour ago, Oliver had texted saying he wanted my homemade lasagna. At the time, I had fainted from low blood sugar while planning the wedding and was rushed to Urgent Care for an IV drip. Afraid I wouldn’t make it in time, I begged the doctor to let me go home to cook. Chloe had scolded me furiously for being a doormat, staying at the clinic just to make sure I didn’t sneak out. Just as I was about to speak, Oliver’s notification popped up. 【Hey baby, who are you on the phone with? I’m meeting an old friend for lunch today, so don’t wait up for me.】 My throat tightened. Before leaving, Vivian had glanced at the container in my bag. She raised an eyebrow and said, “I haven’t told Oliver I’m back yet. I want to surprise him. Sorry about your food.” My nails dug into my palms, my body trembling with rage. I wanted to scream at her, to tell her she knew nothing about our relationship. Oliver never missed a meal with me. He used to say these cozy moments were too precious to lose. Even after late-night business dinners, we’d sit at the table to share a mug of sweet hot cocoa. But now, his text felt like a slap in the face. Leaving me utterly speechless. After giving Chloe a vague reply, I texted Oliver back: 【Is the old friend Vivian?】 Oliver didn’t reply. He probably hadn’t seen it. I was on his “favorites” list; he used to reply to me within seconds. And normally, he would have asked me in shock how I knew. After all, for the past three years, he had never once mentioned Vivian’s existence. Unable to bear the thoughts, I grabbed my bag and caught a cab back to the clinic. When I pushed open the door, I saw my mom and Chloe surrounding a pile of cardboard boxes. I looked around, and seeing my expression, my mom sighed. “Don’t bother looking. Your dad was so furious with you that he refused to come.” My dad had never liked Oliver. He always said, “Are you dating a man, or are you raising a son?” But I had stubbornly believed that since Oliver was a high-powered CEO at work, his child-like dependence on me at home was just his unique way of showing love. My dad had ignored me for a long time, but a few days ago, he suddenly brought a long list of wedding demands for Oliver. Oliver had just nodded agreeably. “Just discuss this with Stella, Dad. Don’t worry about the money.” My dad’s face had darkened instantly, and he walked out. Oliver had wrapped his arms around me, his eyes red with grievance. “Does your dad hate me? Will I still be able to marry you?” My heart had ached for him, and I even called my dad afterward, accusing him of being unreasonable. My mom set down some wedding favor boxes and pulled my hand. “Your dad was just worried you’d be exhausted. He’s just bad with words.” Now that I had calmed down, I finally understood. I was the one handling the catering, the venue, and even the guest favors. Oliver only had to deal with the invitations. My mom had come to celebrate, but she ended up doing all the heavy lifting for me. How could my dad not be angry? Chloe tried to change the subject, pulling over an insulated bag. “Stella, you’re so lucky. This smells amazing. Your dad’s cooking gets better and better.” My eyes welled up as I smiled, tossing my cold container into the trash. Once I was back on the IV and eating, I finally asked, “How did we get this private room anyway?” Chloe coughed guiltily, her tone annoyed. “Oliver arranged it. He said he was busy and asked me to take care of you. Honestly, why are you the one stressing over everything? It’s not like you’re the only one getting married…” I interrupted her sharply. “When did you call him?” “About half an hour ago.” I froze. My heart sank into an icy abyss. Oliver knew I was sick, yet he still chose to have lunch with Vivian. He even took Chloe’s call but ignored my text. My mom’s smile faded at Chloe’s words, but she patted my shoulder gently. “A one-sided relationship doesn’t last, sweetie. Marriage requires communication. We just want you and Oliver to be happy.” I nodded bitterly. At the very least, I needed to hear Oliver’s explanation with my own ears.

At ten in the evening, Oliver finally came home. He paused when he saw me, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he came over to hug me. I stiffened but didn’t pull away. He leaned in to kiss my ear. “Hug me, baby. Why aren’t you asleep yet? Have you eaten?” I shook my head, frowning. His clothes reeked of smoke, alcohol, and a familiar perfume I had smelled earlier today. It seemed he had a wild time with Vivian. Oliver pulled out his phone, looking worried. “It’s so late. Are you feeling sick?” He opened a food delivery app, but I pressed my hand over his. “Oliver, make me some sweet hot cocoa.” He blinked, then laughed helplessly. “You know I don’t know how to cook, baby. Let me order it for you.” I pulled my hand back, disappointed. In the past, whenever he cutely claimed he couldn’t learn to cook, I would always spoil him. But now, suspicion was like a thorn, piercing through my self-deception. Oliver had once learned how to play chess overnight just to impress a client, even playing them to a draw. He was perfectly capable of learning. After ordering the food, Oliver said he was going to take a shower. I called out to him. “Why didn’t you reply to my text today?” Oliver froze, then tugged at his collar and sat down beside me. “I wanted to explain Vivian’s situation to you in person.” “Stella, if she told you anything about some bet we had, that’s all in the past.” I clenched my fists, instinctively wanting to block it out. “She’s just a girl from next door. I did like her once, and when she moved abroad, I was bitter. That’s why I agreed to that stupid ‘baby syndrome’ test. But later, I genuinely fell in love with you. I really do rely on you.” I kept my lips sealed and said nothing. Oliver rubbed the back of my hand. “Do you have any other questions?” …No. How honest, how comprehensive. A perfectly prepared answer. If I pushed further, I would look like the unreasonable one. Oliver let out a sigh of relief. “Actually, there’s something else I want to discuss. I want to change our wedding venue to the mountain resort.” “What?” I stared at him, dumbfounded. Oliver didn’t notice my shock. “Vivian’s parents aren’t in good health, and they’re currently recuperating at that resort. Since they’re our elders, it’s just easier for them.” I was utterly speechless. It had taken me half a month just to choose the hotel. From the theme down to the floral arrangements, I had reviewed everything five times before finalizing it. And he wanted to change it just like that! Noticing my terrible expression, Oliver explained gently, “Baby, my parents already agreed to it.” I swallowed the suffocating lump in my throat. “Fine.” As a future daughter-in-law, I had to keep the peace with his parents. Oliver kissed my cheek, satisfied. “I knew you loved me. I’m going to shower. Grab my pajamas for me, baby.” I stared at his retreating back, taking a deep breath. My parents were running themselves ragged, yet he told me to handle them. But when it came to Vivian, he was more than eager to be thoughtful and accommodating.

The next morning, I was awakened by a delicious aroma. Last night, I used the excuse of being unwell to sleep in the guest bedroom. Oliver had tried to cling to me, bringing his work files to keep me company, but I had shut him out. Yet when I woke up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water, I heard laughter coming from the master bedroom. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Oliver asked, busy frying eggs in the kitchen as he glanced at me. I snapped out of my daze and forced a smile. “You managed to wake up on your own.” In the past, he always insisted I wake him up. I figured this breakfast had a very special destination. Just as I thought this, Oliver placed a plate in front of me. “Try it. Is it good?” I blinked in confusion. “For me?” Oliver grinned. “Of course. Don’t be mad about the hot cocoa last night, baby.” My heart flooded with a sudden wave of bitterness. I couldn’t help but feel my eyes grow hot. Oliver hugged me from behind. “I have to run. Lunch together today?” I nodded, watching him leave. But my smile froze when I saw an insulated lunch bag sitting near the entrance. I rushed into the kitchen. Sure enough, the trash can was filled with food scraps meant for three portions. I stood there for a long time, then sat back down and finished my breakfast in silence. Returning to the living room, I noticed a bag on the coffee table. It contained the wedding invitations. He must have forgotten them on his way to print them. But as I flipped one open, the blood in my veins turned to ice. The names were already written in elegant cursive: Groom Oliver, Bride Vivian! The warmth from earlier felt like a cruel joke. We had agreed to handwrite the very first copy together as a keepsake. It should have been done long ago, but Oliver kept delaying it, claiming he was too busy. It turned out he was just waiting for Vivian… Why was I still playing the fool of a bride? I drove straight to the hotel banquet hall. My dad was discussing something with the staff. Seeing me, his face hardened. “This banquet hall is too small. It makes me look cheap giving away my daughter.” I didn’t say a word. My dad looked displeased. “Fine, we’ll just add a few more dishes. After all, Oliver is…” I interrupted him quietly, telling him about Oliver’s decision to change the venue. My dad stared at me in stunned silence for a few seconds before erupting in fury, marching toward the exit. “Who does he think he is?! I’m going to have a serious word with his parents right now…” I hurriedly called my mom to stop him. The venue coordinator was also flabbergasted when I told her. “Miss Stella, all the materials have been prepared. You want to change it now?” I remained silent for a long moment, making my final decision. “We’re not changing it. We’re canceling it.”

After handling everything, I went straight to Oliver’s office. He seemed to have just finished a meeting, collapsing into his chair with a confused look. “Did you forget to bring my lunch, baby?” I replied flatly, “I didn’t cook.” Oliver stiffened, assuming I was still feeling unwell. I stared blankly at the fresh roses sitting next to his bookshelf. He had already ordered takeout for us. I didn’t sit down. I just said calmly, “Oliver, let’s break up.” Oliver snapped his head up, pausing for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “Stop playing around. Are you still mad about Vivian?” “I’m serious—” Oliver cut me off helplessly. “I told you, that’s all in the past. Besides, once I’m done with these next two busy days, I’m taking some time off to help you prepare for the wedding.” He thought I was just throwing a tantrum. I kept my mouth shut. Oliver pulled me down to sit. “Not mad anymore? Feed me a bite.” Just as I lifted the fork, a knock sounded at the door. Vivian stood there. Her face paled, and she turned and left immediately. A faint smirk played at the corner of Oliver’s lips. The very last shred of affection I had for him shattered into dust. We never finished the meal. Both Oliver and I received calls from our respective mothers. He rushed out in a panic, and I guessed it was because of my dad. As soon as I got into a cab, I called my parents. The other end of the line was a chaotic mess of crying and shouting, and then my dad roared angrily, “Get back here right now! Your mother is crying her eyes out. Is marrying this guy really that important to you?!” “…Dad,” I choked out. “I’m not marrying him. I canceled the wedding.”

My mom had followed my dad to meet Oliver’s parents. They had intended to discuss things calmly. But Oliver’s parents were businesspeople. They didn’t say anything outright nasty, but every word subtly reminded my parents of a daughter-in-law’s “duties.” My dad held back his anger, but my mom couldn’t. She wept as if her world had ended. When she heard I canceled the wedding, she immediately wanted to rush back and apologize to them. Yet, my resolve only grew stronger. “I’m the one who decided this, Mom. I don’t want to degrade myself anymore. Dad, Mom… I want to go home.” They didn’t say another word. After a long silence, a look of pure relief washed over their faces. That evening, Oliver came over with a grim expression, demanding to talk. His very first words were full of blame: “Stella, if you didn’t want to change the venue, we could have talked. Why did you have to send your parents to make a scene? It’s going to be so awkward for me to face them after we’re married.” I stared at him. “Then let’s not get married.” Oliver’s face darkened, his voice laced with suppressed anger. “Stella, I just want you to apologize and smooth things over with them. Isn’t that what you always do?” I wanted to laugh. Oliver didn’t understand. In the past, I humored his parents out of love for him. But things were different now. “Oliver, let’s call off the wedding.” Just as the words left my mouth, his phone began to ring. The apartment was quiet, and I could faintly hear the voice on the other end crying, “Oliver, Vivian is missing!” Oliver’s body tensed instantly. He muttered a quick reply and got up to leave. “Stella, the dress and the rings are already made. Stop messing around. Something happened to Vivian, I have to go.” The moment Oliver left, I went straight to my room and began packing my bags. I still had to deal with the rings, since I paid for half of them. Oliver didn’t return all night, nor did he send a single text. For the first time in years, I slept peacefully. I woke up, finished packing, and headed to the jewelry studio. The sales associate warmly handed me our custom rings, complimenting how beautiful they looked. I offered a polite smile, took them off, and handed them back. “I’d like to refund these, please.” The associate was taken aback, pausing for a few seconds before going to find the manager. Oliver was the one who signed the contract, so getting a refund myself would be tricky. Hearing footsteps, I forced a smile onto my face. But when I turned around, I froze. “Julian?” We hadn’t seen each other since graduation. He was the class genius, and everyone always teased him for skipping reunions. Seeing him now didn’t feel awkward at all. Julian looked equally surprised. After some brief small talk, he asked seriously, “Are you not happy with the rings?” I waved my hands awkwardly. “No, it’s just… the wedding is off.” Julian was clearly shocked, but he didn’t pry. “According to the policy, I need Oliver’s consent to process this for you.” By the time he dialed the number, I was ready to give up. Julian quickly stated the reason for the call: “Hello, Oliver. Stella is here to return the rings—” Before he could finish, Oliver interrupted irritably. “Fine, whatever she wants. Just do it.” Before the call disconnected, I clearly heard a woman whimpering in the background. It seemed Oliver was still busy comforting Vivian and had no time for me. Julian looked at me with pity. But I actually burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face. I booked the earliest flight home and called my parents. After processing the refund, Julian handed me a small, elegant box. Inside was a beautifully crafted sunflower brooch. “Consider this a freebie. Congratulations on your freedom.” A wave of warmth rushed through me as I accepted it. Time flew by. Even as the plane touched down, I still felt like I was in a dream. Just as I walked out of the airport, Chloe called. “Stella, Oliver came to corner me. He refused to take the bill and the credit card you left.” I looked at my parents’ backs and the sky of my hometown. My heart felt incredibly peaceful. “Let him be. Either way… it’s completely over.”

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In New York’s elite circle, everyone knew Vivian Vance was a ruthless, legendary defense attorney. She had never lost a single case, and she was too cold-blooded for anyone to dare cross. No one knew she had a sensory soulmate of ten years—the weak, easily bullied young heir of the Sterling family, Asher. If he was slapped, her cheek would burn for hours. If he was kicked, she would hold her side in pain for a week. If he was publicly humiliated and broken, she would literally spit blood at the most elite corporate negotiation table. Everyone mocked Asher as a spineless orphan whom anyone could step on. Only Vivian stood fiercely in front of him. Anyone who touched him paid with their life. “If he chooses to bow his head, that’s his business. But if anyone dares force him to bow, I will make their life a living hell.” Someone didn’t believe the rumors. At a charity gala, he publicly stepped on Asher and forced him to live-stream an apology to the world. A thousand miles away, Vivian watched the live stream. The sheer vicarious agony made her body spasm. She immediately boarded her private jet and flew back overnight. That night, dozens of black Maybachs blocked off half the city. Vivian stepped on the offender’s face, her voice bone-chilling: “The foot you used to step on him? You won’t be needing it anymore.”

I was born with an overactive tear reflex. Whenever I was wronged, my tears would fall before I could even explain. Because of this, people always called me a spineless coward. A guy who did nothing but cry. When I was a kid, my desk mate lost his eraser and accused me of stealing it. Before the teacher could even question me, my eyes were already red and I was shaking. So everyone pointed at me and said, “Look, he’s crying. He must be guilty.” Later, my dad, Arthur Sterling, was sentenced to life in prison for first-degree murder. Our relatives blocked the door of our cramped, run-down apartment, screaming at my mother, calling her a murderer’s wife who raised a little murderer. I clenched my fists, wanting to rush out and explain, wanting to scream that my dad was innocent. But tears flooded my eyes first. My throat felt like it was blocked by a wet sponge, suffocating any sound. They saw my tear-streaked face and grew even more certain. “See? The kid is just like his murderer father. He only knows how to play the victim to get sympathy.” For the last ten years, what I hated most was my own eyes that wouldn’t stop crying. Until Vivian Vance, the top defense attorney in the city, became my empathic soulmate. When I was falsely accused, the helplessness, fear, and desperation I felt would be magnified a hundred times in her. When I was called “the son of a murderer,” she would suddenly suffocate and lose her voice in the middle of a courtroom. When I was forced to bow my head and plead guilty, she couldn’t even finish a sentence of her defense, breaking out in cold sweat from the pain. Eventually, the entire legal and elite circle knew that the high-and-mighty, cold-blooded Vivian Vance had one absolute boundary. “He can cry.” “But he can never be forced to cry by you.” But in the beginning, I didn’t know any of this. I only knew that tonight was my last chance to get back my dad’s only heirloom. That night, the rain in the city was pouring, as if trying to drown the entire world. On the penthouse floor of the Grand Hyatt, a lavish charity gala was underway, filled with glittering gowns and expensive suits. I stood in the corner, wearing a cheap, rented suit, my eyes locked onto the auction stage. On stage, Julian Thorne stood in a bespoke tuxedo, displaying an old, vintage Omega watch with a smug smile. “This watch belonged to a heinous murderer. Today, we are auctioning it off. All proceeds will go to the victim’s family, as a way to atone for that monster’s sins.” Applause erupted from the crowd. But my heart felt like it was being brutally ripped apart. That was my dad’s watch. Ten years ago, my dad was convicted of first-degree murder. Everyone said he killed a passing wealthy businessman for money. But I knew he didn’t. That night, he was just passing by a dark alley and kindly saved a man covered in blood. The real killer escaped, but because my dad was covered in blood, he became the scapegoat. That vintage watch was the one he wore that day, and it was the only thing I had left of him. I grit my teeth and raised my crumpled bidding paddle. “Ten thousand dollars!” It was all the savings I had scraped together from working three part-time jobs for three years. The entire room’s gaze instantly locked onto me, filled with disgust, mockery, and disdain. Julian looked down at me from the stage, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, look, isn’t that the murderer’s son, Asher? What, trying to buy the watch back with the dirty money your dad stole?” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. “I earned that money myself! My dad didn’t kill anyone!” I wanted to scream back, to throw the truth in their faces. But the tears, betraying me as always, welled up in my eyes. My vision blurred. I stood there, trembling violently under their judging stares. Julian sneered and walked slowly toward me. “One hundred thousand,” he uttered casually. I stared at him. “Five hundred thousand,” he continued to raise the price, looking at me like I was an ant. “Asher, aren’t you trying to appeal the case? Didn’t you hire Vivian Vance as your lawyer?” Julian leaned in, his voice barely a whisper, yet every word stabbed like a knife. “Do you really think Vivian Vance would offend the Thorne family for a piece of trash like you?” With a sudden flick of his hand, he threw the vintage watch hard onto the floor. *Crack.* The glass shattered, gears and springs scattering everywhere. “Oops, my hand slipped,” Julian said, crossing his arms and watching coldly. My mind went blank. I threw myself onto the floor, ignoring the sharp shards of glass, desperately trying to gather the tiny gears. Glass sliced into my fingertips, and blood began to seep out. But Julian suddenly raised his voice. “My ring! My sapphire ring is gone!” His bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing me by the collar and dragging me off the floor. “He was the only one near Mr. Thorne just now! He must have stolen it!” “Search him!” I struggled wildly, my eyes swimming with tears. “I didn’t! I didn’t steal anything!” “Let go of me! Let me go!” The overwhelming humiliation, injustice, and fear washed over me like a tidal wave. At that exact moment, thousands of miles away at the International Convention Center. A multi-billion-dollar merger negotiation was taking place. Vivian sat at the head of the table in a tailored black blazer dress, looking cold, sharp, and utterly dominant. But the second I was pinned down by the bodyguards and search-and-seized. The hand she used to hold her pen froze. An indescribable, agonizing pain, mixed with a suffocating wave of despair and humiliation, slammed into her body like a tsunami. Her heart felt like it was being crushed by a giant hand, and her breath caught in her throat. “Ms. Vance?” the foreign representative across from her asked, noticing her sudden change. Vivian’s face went deathly pale, veins popping on her temples as cold sweat drenched her forehead. She stood up abruptly, trying to speak, but a thick, coppery taste of blood welled up in her throat. The next second, under everyone’s horrified gaze. *Cough—* A mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips, staining the billion-dollar contract red. Her assistant, Luke, nearly lost his mind. “Ms. Vance! Call an ambulance!” Vivian gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. She forced down the remaining blood in her throat, her eyes burning with a terrifying, murderous rage. “Find…” her voice was incredibly hoarse, sounding like sandpaper. “Find out where Asher is! Now!”

The drama at the gala was still going on. The bodyguard roughly tore open my cheap bag, dumping its contents onto the floor. A few crumpled bills, a pack of tissues, and the bloody pieces of the shattered watch. No ring. Julian’s face darkened, and he shot a look at the bodyguard. The bodyguard got the hint. He suddenly pointed at my suit pocket. “It’s in here!” He reached in and pulled out a glittering sapphire ring. The crowd gasped. “Oh my god, he really did steal it!” “A murderer’s son is bound to have sticky fingers!” “Call the cops! Throw him in jail so he can reunite with his father!” Vicious curses rained down on me from all sides. I couldn’t defend myself. I shook my head, crying hysterically. “It wasn’t me… you planted it on me…” My tears were completely out of control, and my stomach twisted in painful spasms. Julian looked down at me, a victorious smirk on his face. “Asher, people like you are meant to rot in the mud. Appeal the case? In your next life.” He lifted his foot and slammed his leather shoe down on the back of my hand, grinding it hard. “Ugh—” I gasped, a white-hot agony shooting up my arm. The pain made me break out in a cold sweat. Just then, a loud *crash* echoed through the room. The heavy double doors of the ballroom were kicked open from the outside. Dozens of men in black suits filed in, instantly taking control of the room. The crowd was forced to part, creating a wide path. Vivian Vance marched in. Her suit was slightly disheveled, a faint trace of blood still at the corner of her lips. Her face was as pale as paper, but her dark eyes held a bone-chilling coldness. She walked straight to me, looking at my hand pinned under his shoe and the blood on the floor. At that moment, I saw her body tremble violently, a flash of extreme agony crossing her eyes. “Get off him.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable, crushing authority. Julian froze, clearly not expecting Vivian to show up. “M-Ms. Vance? What are you doing here? This guy stole my ring, I was just teaching him a lesson—” “I said, get off him.” Vivian snapped her gaze to him, her eyes like ice-cold daggers. Julian was forced back a step by her gaze, instinctively lifting his foot. Vivian knelt, completely ignoring the expensive carpet, and gently cupped my blood-covered hand. Her hands were freezing, her fingertips trembling slightly. “Asher,” she said, her voice terribly raspy. “Did I not tell you to call me if anything happened?” I looked at her, my feelings of injustice reaching a peak. “Vivian… I didn’t steal it… It was my dad’s watch…” My eyes were filled with tears, my voice shaking uncontrollably. Vivian’s brows knitted tightly, her throat working hard as she swallowed down another wave of shared pain. She suddenly reached out, pulling my head gently against her shoulder. “Stop crying,” she whispered in my ear, her voice thick with suppressed agony. “If you keep crying, you’re going to kill me with this pain.” I froze, momentarily forgetting to cry. Vivian took a deep breath, took off her blazer, and draped it over my shoulders. Then, she slowly stood up, shielding me behind her. She turned to Julian, her eyes returning to a state of absolute, chilling indifference. “Mr. Thorne. Framing, public disturbance, and aggravated assault.” “Any of these is enough for me to put you behind bars for a few years.” Julian tried to maintain his composure. “Ms. Vance, what is that supposed to mean? He clearly stole my ring. Everyone saw it!” “Oh? Really?” Vivian sneered, turning her head to Luke. Luke immediately stepped forward, opening his tablet and connecting it to the ballroom’s massive projector screen. On screen, a crystal-clear surveillance footage began to play. It showed Julian, when I wasn’t looking, slipping the sapphire ring into my suit pocket. The room fell dead silent. Julian’s face went completely white, his lips trembling. “Th-this… wasn’t the camera broken?” Vivian looked down at him as if looking at a corpse. “Mr. Thorne, you probably didn’t know that this hotel is a subsidiary of the Vance Group.” “To touch my person on my property? You’ve got some nerve.” She leaned in slightly, her voice quiet but ringing clearly in everyone’s ears. “Today, you stepped on his hand. Tomorrow, I will make sure the Thorne family is wiped out of New York.”

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For ten years,I kept our promise to stay child-free.Then I found a family photo tucked under the pillow of my husband,Dante Moretti,the Don of the mafia. In the photo,he was holding a baby in one arm.With his other hand,he was holding the hand of his first love,Celeste Vale. My hands and feet went cold.Clutching the photo,I rushed to the Moretti family headquarters. But when I reached his office door,I heard the intimate sound of panting from inside. Celeste was sitting on Dante’s lap,her arms around his neck as she acted spoiled. “I’m already pregnant with our second child.When are you going to make Evelyn Snow get out?” I felt as if I had fallen into an ice cellar.Staring at the indulgent smile on Dante’s face,I heard the words he had said to me over and over through the years. “I hate children.” In the ten years I was married to him,I had been pregnant three times. Each time,Dante had used the same excuse,that he did not need an heir,and had made me terminate the pregnancy without hesitation. Before the third procedure,the family doctor said my body could no longer take it.If we continued,I might hemorrhage. I cried and begged Dante to let me keep the child. Even if the baby was never entered into the Moretti family records,even if the child could never call him father,I was willing. But he only looked at me coldly. “If you insist on having it,we end the engagement.” So Dante did not hate children. He only hated children born from me. I let go of the door handle.I did not rush in and question him.Instead,I booked a flight out for that night. … Clutching the photo,I walked out the front door in a daze. Rain came down in sheets.I was cold all over. Then I saw Dante’s assistant hurrying a little boy in a raincoat through the entrance,warning him anxiously. “Slow down,please.The steps are wet.Don’t fall.” The child looked back and smiled,his voice soft and bright. “I’m not afraid of falling.I can’t wait to see Daddy and Mommy.” My breath stopped. That face was almost a perfect copy of Dante as a child. Without thinking,I placed a hand over my lower abdomen. During my third pregnancy,the baby had already been five months along. The family doctor performed an ultrasound for me.I saw the tiny outline on the screen,the brows and eyes so astonishingly like Dante’s. I brought the report home and begged him,humbly,to let me keep the baby. But Dante did not even look at it.He moved straight into the study. After that,we were in a cold war for half a month. He treated me as if I were invisible. Even when morning sickness left me too weak to stand and I asked him to pour me a glass of water,he simply walked around me with indifference. I could not bear his cold violence and neglect,so I scheduled the procedure. At last,he was satisfied.He said his first words to me in half a month. “Good girl.I don’t like children.” I looked at the boy who was about to disappear into the rain. He must have been five already. And my fully formed child had been forced away three years ago. It turned out he had not wanted my child because he had already had an heir with Celeste. Tears blurred my vision.I bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood before I forced down the urge to sob aloud. But when I turned,Dante happened to come out holding the child. There was nowhere for me to hide.Through the downpour,our eyes met. The child frowned and shook the extra umbrella in his hand. “Daddy,why is that lady standing in the rain?” “Can I give her the umbrella?She looks so pitiful.” The taste of blood filled my mouth. I did not miss the warning that flashed through Dante’s eyes. He had his assistant bring me the umbrella,then shielded the child as they got into the car. Celeste appeared after them with a little schoolbag in her hand.When she saw how wretched I looked,she laughed with pleasure. Faintly,I heard Dante coaxing the child in a gentle voice. “Nico,people who stand on the roadside in a storm staring into space are usually not right in the head.” “People like that are the easiest to lose control.If you see one in the future,keep your distance.Don’t go near.” The car rolled slowly past me,splashing muddy water across the ground. Through the window,I saw Dante and Celeste with their fingers intertwined. And the child sat beside them excitedly building with Lego. My phone suddenly vibrated.A message from Dante popped up. “Go back to the estate first.I’ll explain.”

I scrolled through our chat history. For an entire six months,it had been nothing but my one-woman show. “Dante,I made the beef bone soup you usually drink tonight.Will you come home for dinner?” He had not replied. “Dante,I fell down the stairs and sprained my ankle.Could you pick up a bottle of pain relief spray from the pharmacy if you pass one?” Still no reply. With trembling fingers,I selected every conversation with Dante. It felt as if I were selecting the entire ten years of our relationship. Then I deleted them with one tap. At the same time,a new follow request appeared on my phone. It was from Celeste. I did not accept it,but as if possessed,I tapped into her Instagram. It was packed with photos of a family of three. As I looked at those familiar dates,tears kept falling. On the day of my first abortion,Celeste had posted a selfie with a peace sign. In the corner of the photo,the trash can was piled full of cigarette packs. “Starting to try for a baby.He quit smoking right away and said he wanted to be the best daddy in the world.” On the day of my second abortion,Celeste lay weakly in Dante’s arms,holding a wrinkled little newborn. “Mother and son are safe.He cried harder than I did outside the delivery room.” I looked at Dante’s reddened eyes in the photo and suddenly remembered many years ago,when I went with him to the docks to negotiate a dangerous deal. A gunfight broke out on the road,and the car window was shattered by bullets. Without hesitating,I threw myself over Dante to shield him. He was unscathed. But glass shards and fragments tore open my chest,leaving me covered in blood. Dante gripped my hand tightly.His eyes were anxious,yet the distance in them could not be hidden. Even at the edge of life and death,he still called me by my full name. “Evelyn Snow,don’t sleep.” I had thought he was born cold and did not know how to love. I tried for ten years to warm him. But it turned out I had never entered his heart at all. I could not tell whether the wetness on my face was tears or rain.I only wanted to call a car and leave at once. But I was soaked through,and several Uber drivers canceled on me. I had no choice but to walk all the way back to the estate. Halfway there,a young couple on the roadside seemed to be having an argument. The boy rubbed his forehead helplessly and reached out to take the girl’s hand. The girl shook him off in grievance and turned her face away. The boy had no choice but to crouch down and carry her on his back,coaxing her softly. “All right,princess.I know you’re tired from walking.I’ll carry you back,okay?” At last,the girl smiled. But I saw the boy’s lips move. “So troublesome.” My heart gave a violent tremble. I suddenly remembered the time after a family charity gala when Dante took me to see the hilltop winery he had just bought. On the way,I accidentally twisted my ankle. He glanced at my red,swollen ankle and asked coldly, “Can you still walk?” Everyone with us stopped to wait for me. I endured the piercing pain,unwilling to miss that rare chance to be close to him. But limping along,I still slowed everyone down. Then Dante suddenly turned back and picked me up in his arms. Back then,I thought he felt sorry for me,and I secretly smiled against his chest. Now that I thought about it,he had only disliked how slowly I was walking.He had only thought I was a nuisance. Tears ran down my cheeks. I took the wedding ring off my ring finger and threw it into the grass by the road. By the time I reached the estate,there were only three hours left before my flight. I shook my dizzy head and leaned against the wall as I entered the door code. The electronic lock vibrated and gave a shrill warning. “Incorrect password.” The next second,the door opened from inside. Celeste looked at my disheveled state with provocation in her eyes,smiling as if apologetic. “Sorry.I casually mentioned that I could never remember the code,so Dante changed the lock to my birthday.” I froze in the doorway. I saw the servants carrying out the furniture,ornaments,and photos I had personally chosen,box by box.

When Dante saw me drenched in rain,he frowned in displeasure. “The hall was just cleaned,and now you’ve dirtied it again.” My heart went completely cold. The tears I had barely managed to stop broke loose again. Cold wind drove rain through the crack of the door.Celeste gave a soft sneeze. Concern flashed instantly in Dante’s eyes.He took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Why haven’t you closed the door?What if Celeste catches a cold?” Numbly,I closed the door. When I walked,the soles of my feet hurt as if needles were stabbing into them,and watery blood left faint trails on the floor. But Dante did not spare me even a glance.He only ordered the servants to make hot tea. He carefully helped Celeste sit down,as if she were fragile porcelain. Celeste giggled and pushed his hand away. “I’m not that delicate.” Then,as if only now noticing the blood on the floor,she covered her mouth in surprise. “Dante,Evelyn’s feet are all torn up.Hurry and have someone bring the first-aid kit.” Dante then noticed my injured feet. His brows drew tight. Just when I thought he was about to have someone fetch medicine,and I was ready to refuse his belated kindness. He picked Celeste up in disgust and ordered the servants coldly,”Bring disinfectant.Wipe down every place she walked.” The servants hurried over with alcohol and disinfectant,pouring them over the places I had crossed. Alcohol splashed onto the wounds by my feet,like fine needles drilling into bone. But that pain was not even one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart. Dante looked at me as if I were some contaminating germ,as if he wished he could drive me out of the house at once. After a moment of silence,that was exactly what he did. “Butler,pack a few clothes for Evelyn and send her to a hotel for now.” Celeste leaned smugly in Dante’s arms and stroked her slightly rounded belly. “I’m sorry,Evelyn.He’s only worried that with you this dirty,you might harm the child in my belly.” “You’ll have to suffer a little and move out for a few days.” I looked up at the estate I had once considered my home. Now it had become unrecognizable. The wedding photo on the wall had been torn up and thrown into the trash. The custom fridge magnets of Dante and me lay scattered in a mess on the floor. Even the white roses I had planted by hand on the terrace had been uprooted by someone. To make Celeste comfortable,Dante had personally erased every trace of me. When I saw the childish pair of couple mugs on the dining table,my heart felt as if it had been gripped by an invisible hand,aching so badly I could hardly breathe. After the induced labor of that five-month-old child,I asked a jeweler to seal the ashes he left behind inside a tiny star pendant. I wanted to carry it with me at every moment. As if he had never left me. That day,I hung the little star at the head of the bed and slept well for the first time in a long while. But when I opened my eyes again,the pendant was gone. I broke down and searched the entire room,yet I could not find a single trace of it. Dante came out of the study and said lightly, “That childish little trinket?I thought it was an eyesore,so I threw it away.” He thought it was childish. So without even telling me,he could throw away the last trace of my child. But now,he used childish couple mugs with Celeste,used childish stickers with her,and helped her and the child turn this estate into their home. I curled my lips in mockery and met Dante’s icy eyes. “No need to trouble the butler.” “I’ll pack my own things.” “I’ll disappear soon enough and never offend your eyes again.” I hurried upstairs.All I wanted was to take my documents,passport,and the relics my mother had left me. But when I reached the corner,a crisp shattering sound came from the bedroom.

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This was my eighteenth wedding to Don Luca Rossano. This time,my parents and my fiancé left with my adopted sister again. My parents only called me.Their voices were impatient. “Vera’s stomach is acting up again.We’re taking her to the hospital.The wedding is canceled.Handle it yourself.” My bridesmaid,Vivian,my best friend since childhood,questioned me with disgust. “Do you really think your wedding matters more than Vera’s health?She was in so much pain she almost passed out,and you still didn’t want us to take care of her.When did you become this vicious?” As for my fiancé,Luca,he did not even bother to call. He only sent one text:The wedding is canceled.We’ll talk next time. I stared at those few words over and over. He had brushed me off with the same line eighteen times. A cold laugh slipped from my lips. Only then did I realize I felt nothing at all. Eighteen times. Enough. I no longer wanted to beg people who had already made their choice. … I picked up the microphone and walked onto the wedding stage.The stage was covered in amethyst violets,Vera’s favorite flowers.My wedding was filled with the flowers my adopted sister loved most. “I’m sorry,everyone.Today’s wedding is canceled.” The guests exchanged glances. Not one of them looked surprised. “I knew it.Out of all these weddings,has a single one ever actually happened?If I were Isabella,I wouldn’t have the nerve to show my face.” “Their whole family revolves around that younger daughter.If I were Isabella,I’d just hand the man over to her and leave.At least she’d save herself some humiliation and keep a little dignity.” “What do you know?She’s like that girl in Just My Luck.Whatever she touches turns lucky,and everyone around her hits the jackpot. Every time Don Luca tries to cut things off with her,the Rossano family’s hidden port accounts blow open the next day.He’s tried several times and lost multiple cargo routes.If not for that,he wouldn’t still be with her.” I walked down from the stage under their stares. I heard every word. But this time,losing a few cargo routes would probably be the least of their worries. I changed out of my wedding dress and drove back to the Bellini estate,ready to take my things and leave. But the moment I reached the door,a large group of people came pouring in. Vera was in the middle of them,surrounded by everyone,all of them smiling as if she had just come back from the brink of death. The second they saw me,their smiles vanished. Luca’s eyes darkened. “Isabella,you canceled the wedding without even giving the guests a reason?Now everyone will think it was because of Vera again.You can take the blame for this yourself.” My father gave a cold snort,too lazy even to look at me. “You really made a mess this time,Isabella.Every time before this,you handled the public opinion yourself.We never had to worry. Now go tell everyone the wedding was canceled because you caused a scene.” Vivian had already taken out her phone. “I’ll have my contacts pass the line to a few street channels.Isabella can still apologize now.Then we’ll get a few street accounts to drag her for not knowing the rules,and no one will keep staring at Vera.” I did not answer any of them. I only stood there. Good. Very good. I’m fed up. Three days. I would give myself three days to cut every tie,then leave this life for good. “Isabella,are you even listening?I’m telling you,if you don’t clean this up,I can’t promise when the next wedding will be.” Luca stopped in front of me,his voice sharp and impatient. Just then,Vera finally spoke,her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. “It’s all my fault.I ruined Luca and Isabella’s wedding.Blame me.” “There are still a few good dates this month.The wedding can still…” Before she finished,she started coughing. Luca rushed to her side at once and patted her back. “It’s not your fault.Don’t overthink it.Your sister can’t live without me,so it doesn’t matter when we get married.” “You’re overthinking it.” Those were the first words I said after entering the house. Everyone froze. I lifted the bag in my hand. “I’m leaving.” The words had barely fallen. The next second,a crisp slap cracked through the air.

The slap rang through the entire living room. I turned my face aside and gave a bitter smile. The hand my mother had used to slap me was still trembling. “Are you done making a scene?The Bellini family has given you so much,and this is what you’ve become?A spoiled,ungrateful little ingrate?” “You want to leave?Where can you go?Do you want the whole city saying we abused you,slandering us for favoring Vera? Isabella,when will you stop acting out and embarrassing the Bellini family?God,I truly regret giving birth to you.Vera would never do something this rotten.” The taste of blood spread through my mouth. I ran the tip of my tongue over the corner of my lip. Yes. If this had been before,I would have screamed and fought. Because I did not understand. Why,when Vera broke the antique cigar box in Father’s study,it somehow became my fault. Why,when there was clearly surveillance footage,they still refused to believe I had not pushed Vera down the stairs. I also did not understand how buying a few flowers,which happened to trigger Vera’s allergy,became proof that I had deliberately tried to harm her. This was not the first time my mother had hit me. The last time was only two days ago,when I refused to let Vera wear my wedding dress. Then she fainted on the spot. Mother shoved me,then took scissors and cut apart the custom wedding dress I had waited six months for. Because of Vera,my mother and I had almost become enemies. Before,I would fight back.I would scream.I would force them to tell me I was not crazy. But this time,I did not want to make a scene. Because they needed me.I did not need them. I had always been the luckiest person in this family. The day after I was born,the Bellini family secured passage rights to the east docks.That deal dragged the entire family back from the guns of their creditors and made my father the most powerful Don in Aurelia Port. His stage-two liver cancer went into complete remission around the same time,for reasons the doctors could never explain. My friend Vivian had been an ordinary,forgettable girl before she met me. After we became inseparable in elementary school,she slowly grew into the kind of beauty people could not help turning to look at. She won every audition,took Best Actress,and became the country’s biggest box-office star. Later,even the mafia families called her”the princess who came out of the neighborhood.” And Luca. He used to be nobody.A man selling fake cigarettes and fake watches at the dockside night market,chased by cops and beaten black and blue by other crews. Until one night,he found me lost at a street market and brought me home. I fell in love with him on the spot. After that,everything he touched turned to gold. He took over his first gray cargo route,never lost a dock negotiation,and before he turned thirty,pushed the small Rossano name into the leading seat on the port committee. They doted on me for more than twenty years. Luca,too,once treated me as the center of his universe. But later,Vera was brought into the Bellini family. And everyone changed. Seeing me stay silent,Father’s voice turned cold. “You want to leave,Isabella?Then leave.This time,we will hold a family hearing and formally sever ties with you.From now on,you are no longer the daughter of the Bellini family,and you are no longer protected by this name.” “Take all her things away.Everything here belongs to this family.She doesn’t get to bring a single thing with her.” They did not even let me take a change of clothes before pushing me out the front gates. Luca sighed and quietly slipped a key into my hand. “Take it.It’s an apartment.You can stay there.Isabella,we’re all tired.This is where we end.” “I really wish the person I saved that night had been Vera,not you.” I let out a scoff. “Then marry her.” Luca released a long,exhausted breath. “Stop making a scene.I said I would marry you,and I will marry you.That won’t change.” “Vera is a good person,a truly kind person.I won’t let you talk about her like she’s something that can be thrown away.Don’t say that again.” After saying that,he turned and walked back up the steps. I threw the key on the ground and turned to leave. But Vera rushed over and grabbed my sleeve. “Don’t go,Isabella.I overstepped.I wanted something that wasn’t mine.I don’t deserve any of this.” “You stay.I’ll leave.I’ll leave this house right now.” I knew exactly what she was doing. So I only stood there and let her clutch me while she cried her fake tears. But when she realized I was not pushing her away like before,she suddenly gasped for air and collapsed at my feet. “Vera!” “Call the doctor!Vera,my precious daughter!” Everyone rushed over and surrounded her. Luca’s hand closed around my throat,his eyes so dark he looked ready to kill. “You dared to push her?Do you really think I won’t lay a hand on you?” So this was what remained when anger reached its end:laughter. I had not even touched her. Yet in the end,I was still the one punished. “Luca,I hope none of you ever regret this.” No one took that sentence seriously. Father’s voice lashed over like a whip. “Someone lock her in the basement.No one lets her out without my order.”

The basement was damp and dark. This was my second time being locked in here. The memory of the first time was still as clear as if it had just happened. That time,I caught Vera sneaking into Luca’s bedroom in the middle of the night. I saw her in his bed. She cried and said it was sleepwalking caused by childhood trauma. She said she did not know why she had walked into Luca’s room. She only felt safe there. She had not meant to. My parents and Luca all believed her. Luca even told her gently that if she was scared in the future,she could come to him anytime. Back then,I was at the height of my obsession with Luca.I could not even tolerate a female assistant getting close to his private office. So I slapped Vera. Then my parents locked me in this basement. Seven days. Only half a bottle of water each day. They did not let me out until hunger had broken me completely and I agreed to apologize. This time,they clearly did not plan to merely starve me. Father walked in holding an old leather whip,with Luca behind him. “Thirty strikes would have been enough.But Vera pleaded for you and told me not to use a bat.So I switched to the whip.Fifty.” Crack. The first lash fell,and a bloody welt rose on my skin at once. He whipped me more than a dozen times. The swollen marks split open one by one. Every lash after that carried a numb,burning agony. No wonder Vera had begged him to use the whip instead. The whip had been soaked in something—chili water. “Are you going to apologize or not?” He never got the answer he wanted,so he struck harder and harder. After fifty lashes,my back and arms were covered in split wounds. Flesh curled open in strips.Blood ran down my spine and dripped onto the floor. Pain numbed me. I curled up in the corner,struggling to breathe. Father threw the whip on the ground and turned to leave. Before he walked out,he left one final sentence. “Stubborn bones.” Luca crouched in front of me. “Vera sent medicine and clean clothes for you.She has always been good to you,Isabella.You’re her sister,and I’m about to be her brother-in-law.We should be taking care of her.Why do you always have to make her out to be the villain?” “Apologize and end this.Stop letting the other families laugh at us.” He unfolded the clothes Vera had prepared and draped them over my back. When the fabric touched the open wounds,my whole body went rigid,as if a basin of salt water had been poured over me. I bent forward sharply and curled into a ball. “Really good at acting.Vera goes pale every time she’s in pain,and even she doesn’t exaggerate like you.” Luca stood up in disgust and walked out. The iron door closed behind him. Only then did I finally manage to draw a breath. Two more days. I only had to hold on for two more days.

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“I’m sorry, Valentina,” my coach said. “But the final roster has been confirmed. There wasn’t a mistake.” I stood outside the administration office for almost five minutes, staring at the sheet taped to the board. My name was gone. Under the National Ice Training Grant, where Valentina Moretti should have been, was Bianca Bellini instead. My first thought was that something had gone wrong with the roster. Then I saw the Romano family guarantee stamped into the review column, and I understood Dante Romano had done it. He had made his family people alter the files and take my spot from me. When I found him, he was leaning against an armored car, scrolling through his phone. He saw me and only flicked ash from his cigarette, squinting at me through the smoke. Two family guards in black suits stood beside the car, silent as walls. “Bianca lost her protection,” he said before I could even open my mouth. “Her stepmother’s side owes money in Jersey and Boston. If she doesn’t get that national grant, she’s finished.” “You’re strong. You can fight your way into the East Coast Ice Trials on your own.” “That national grant comes with a fully funded place at the Olympic Ice Training Center, housing, and training covered,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You know what that means to me.” I stared at him. He looked everywhere except at my face. Then he sighed, reached into his wallet, and pulled out a black card stamped with the Romano crest. He held it between two fingers, like he was tipping a valet. “Fine. Listen. I’ll pay for your training. Coaches, rink fees, equipment, all of it. Consider it me buying the spot from you. Are we good now?” The rain started. I looked at the card in his hand. Then I looked at his face. He used to tell me that if I trained hard enough, I could leave my ruined family behind, leave this dirty, chaotic place controlled by mafia power, and step onto a bigger stage where my dream could actually mean something. So I trained until my body hurt. The irony was that now he was trying to buy my dream out from under me. I turned around and started walking. His voice cut across the parking lot, even and cold. “Are you serious right now? You’ve spent your whole life chasing money, and you’re really going to walk away from this much?” “What I’m offering you is more than you’d make washing thousands of dishes at that part-time job, more than you’ve ever seen in your life, and you still want to play noble?” I stopped and turned my head just enough to see him through the rain. For years, I had believed some things were untouchable. Then all at once, they rotted through. I gave him a faint smile. “Sure, Dante. Think whatever you want.” By the time I got back to my part-time job, my phone was buzzing. Sofia Quinn, my friend. “Valentina. Tell me I’m reading the list wrong. Tell me Bianca’s name isn’t sitting where yours should be.” “You’re reading it right.” “It’s Dante. It has to be Dante. Did you confront him?” “I just came from him.” I leaned against the back counter, looking at a pile of dirty bowls. “He offered to pay for the rest of my skating career. Said he was buying the spot from me.” The line went quiet for a long beat. “That entitled bastard,” Sofia Quinn said finally. “Tell me you cursed him out.” “I walked away.” “Valentina, you have to fight this. That national grant is yours. Do you have any idea what you went through to earn it? The all-night training, your father—” “It won’t matter.” “What do you mean it won’t matter?” “The spot is funded by the National Sports Bureau, but the Romano family controls this school and half the city around it. The school leaders won’t care whether my place gets stolen. They’ll only listen to the next don of the Romano family.” She went quiet again. “I just saw Bianca’s Instagram story. Dante booked out an entire private club restaurant to celebrate her nomination.” “Fine.” “Fine? That’s it?” “I have to go. The boss is coming.” I hung up before she could say anything else.

The next morning, I went to the school to submit the East Coast Ice Trials paperwork. I was halfway down the corridor when I saw them, Dante with Bianca on his arm. Bianca saw me first. She flinched and ducked behind his shoulder. “Dante, I’m scared.” He stepped in front of her like a wall. “Valentina. Don’t start.” I tried to walk around him. He caught my wrist. “What is wrong with you? Bianca didn’t do anything to you. None of this was her decision, so why do you have to make a scene?” I yanked my arm back. “Let me go.” People in the corridor started looking over: uniformed heirs of family lines, girls wearing diamonds, the young heir who had just finished combat training, and the security guards pretending not to hear.. Bianca’s eyes filled with tears right on cue. She slipped out from behind Dante and took one step toward me. “Valentina, I’m really, really sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen. If hitting someone is the only way you can vent, then hit me. I deserve it.” She came closer with her chin lifted, and Dante wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. “Look at her,” he said to me, his voice low and furious. “Look at what you’re doing to her. I never thought you could be this cruel, Valentina.” The whispers started. “That’s her, right? The poor girl stuck in the elite school?” “Wait, isn’t she the one who lost the national grant?” “Lost it to Bianca. Honestly, look at her face. No expression at all. Any man would go cold looking at that. No wonder Dante moved on.” “Bianca is literally an angel. I’d choose her too.” I didn’t look at any of them. My eyes stayed on Dante. “I said, let me go.” He didn’t let go. Instead, he shoved me. I stumbled back and hit the row of steel lockers behind me, my shoulder blades cracking against the metal. For a second, I stayed there with my back against the lockers, looking up at him. He looked right back at me. There was nothing on his face, no flicker, nothing at all. We grew up together. When he was ten, the Romano family was in a bloody feud with another mafia family, and to keep him safe, they threw him into our small town. During his first week there, he picked a fight with three older boys behind the rink and was getting his teeth kicked in when I came around the corner. I held up a sharpened skate blade. They ran. After that, he followed me everywhere. When a boy at the training school bullied me, Dante put him on the ground and beat him hard enough that nobody forgot it. Back then, he would say, “Valentina, I’ve got you. Always.” “We’re getting out of this town. Both of us. National team, international competitions, the whole thing. You and me.” And now he was standing in front of me with another girl pressed against his side, after he had just shoved me into a wall. Bianca cried even harder. “Dante, please, let’s just go. It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.” He turned his head and kissed her hair. “It’s not your fault. Not any of it.” He gave me one last warning look, then led her past me and away. I stayed against the steel lockers until I could breathe again. The administration office was at the end of the corridor. On the way there, I passed the Featured Athletes wall. Bianca’s photo was in the center, bigger than everyone else’s. Beneath it, in clean black letters, it read: A promising young talent moving forward through hardship. A story of resilience. I looked at it for one second and laughed bitterly. I remembered one night after a late training session, when I came back to the rink equipment shop. My father was waiting in the parking lot. I could smell the whiskey on him from ten feet away. “Where’s the money?” I didn’t answer. I tried to get around him and reach the door. He grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the side of the building. “I’m talking to you. Are both your ears deaf now?” “There isn’t any money.” “Bullshit. That Romano kid throws cash around like water, and you’re stuck to him twenty-four hours a day. You’re telling me you can’t squeeze a few hundred out of him for your old man?” He slapped me across the face. “You hiding it? Where is it? Huh?” He started searching me, yanking at my pockets, and I shoved him away. That was the wrong move. He kicked me in the stomach so hard I went down on the asphalt. “You ungrateful bitch. You’re just like your mother. Trash, both of you.” He went looking for something heavier, a tire iron or a piece of pipe. I didn’t see clearly. That was when Dante’s car pulled into the parking lot. The engine hadn’t even stopped before he got out. In two moves, he put my father on the ground, then pulled me up from the asphalt. His hands moved over my face, my arms, my ribs, checking. “Where did he hit you, Valentina. Where.” I couldn’t answer. He took off his own coat and put it around my shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He didn’t go home that night. He sat on the broken couch in the back of the shop until morning. The next day, he walked into the precinct and did not leave until they had my father in a holding cell. When he came back, he sat down beside me and said, “From now on, I’m taking care of you. You don’t have to worry about anything. Ever.” I had actually believed him.

A week before the East Coast Ice Trials, our training school held its final mock competition. There was a full judging panel, full scoring, and several committee observers in black suits sitting by the boards; the whole thing was run like the real event. I took first. My total score was almost twelve points higher than second place. Bianca came in last. She took the score sheet off the board, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash on her way off the ice. “Doesn’t matter. I got the national training grant.” Dante was waiting at the boards with two coffees. He handed one to her. Then, with a sincerity that made my stomach turn, he said, “It’s fine. You were beautiful.” I watched Bianca smile like she had just been crowned. She pressed up onto her toe picks and kissed him on the cheek. I walked past them toward the locker room. “Valentina.” I did not stop. “Valentina. Hey.” He came around in front of me, blocking the path. “Are you still angry about the national training grant?” I didn’t answer. “I get it. But come on, look at her situation. She needs this more than you do, and you could win the East Coast Ice Trials in your sleep.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “The card I offered you is still valid. Whatever you need, coaches, training camps, I’ll cover it.” He thought money was the answer, as if money could smooth over every wound he had opened. I shook my head. “I don’t need it.” “There you go again.” His jaw tightened. “How long are you going to keep doing this? Do you know how much you make in a month? What I’m offering you is more than you’ll ever pull out of that place in your whole life.” Bianca skated up behind him, all false softness. “Dante, don’t be like that. You can’t be so harsh with a girl.” She gave me a practiced little smile. “Valentina, I know you hate me right now, but I really, truly had no other choice. After my father lost everything, my stepmother has been awful to me. I had nowhere else to turn.” Her eyes shone with tears. I had watched her perform like this for a year. In every conversation, she was the victim; in every room, I was the one making her cry. “Dante said he’ll take care of you,” she went on, her tone soft and generous. “Whatever you need, tell us. Dante and I will help you.” Us? As if that one word meant they had been tied together for life. I couldn’t help the corner of my mouth from lifting. Dante frowned. “What’s funny?” “Nothing. I just think the two of you match each other. I hope it lasts.” His face changed. “Valentina—” I walked past him into the locker room. “Valentina, come back.” I ignored every word. That night, Sofia sent me a photo, a screenshot she had saved from Bianca’s Instagram. Bianca and Dante were in an underground bar. Dante held a bottle of champagne, while Bianca leaned across his lap. Their friends were in the background, raising glasses and shouting, “CONGRATS BIANCA!” Sofia: Dante is rotten through. Walk your own road. He is not worth your grief anymore. She was right. I closed the app and tossed the phone aside. Then I picked up my training journal from the nightstand, opened to the next blank page, and started writing out my East Coast Ice Trials program. As long as I kept training, I did not have to think about anything else.

A week before the East Coast Ice Trials, the training school cut hours for tapering. Most of my teammates used the time to rest, but I still went to my part-time shifts like usual. Wednesday afternoon, I saw Dante’s car parked outside the place where I worked. “Valentina. Come here.” I kept working and ignored him. “I’m talking to you.” He frowned and walked over. He reached for my arm, saw the dirt on my hands, and pulled his fingers back before touching me. “Go wash up and come with us.” “Where?” “The safehouse up the mountain. Bianca wants a few days away from everything. You’re coming with us.” I straightened. “I’m not going.” “Don’t start this again.” He let out a sharp breath. “I drove all the way here. Bianca wants to make peace, so stop being so difficult.” “I have nothing to make peace about with her.” “Valentina.” “I’m training.” He laughed once, short and ugly. “Training. That’s just a ridiculous excuse. You could skate the East Coast Ice Trials hungover and still take first.” “Come on. Leave this dump for a weekend. Bianca actually wants to fix things with you.” “I’m not going.” His patience vanished. He stared at me for a second, then laughed again, his smile cold with disgust. “Are you worried your boss will dock your pay if you leave?” He pulled out his wallet and flung several hundred-dollar bills at my face. The money drifted down through the air and landed on the floor, soaking up dirty water. “Is this enough? No?” He pulled out another stack. “How about now?” Rourke, the owner of the shop where I worked, rushed out, took one look at the cash on the floor, and lowered his voice. “Mr. Romano, what is going on here? We don’t need any of this.” Dante didn’t even look at him. His eyes stayed on me. “Pick it up, then come with me.” I still didn’t move. Bianca had been waiting in the car. When she saw what was happening, she ran over at once. “Dante, please stop. You’re scaring her.” She crouched and began picking up the bills one by one. “Valentina, don’t be mad at him. He’s only trying to be good to me. He didn’t mean to treat you like this.” She held the money out to me with both hands, eyes wet. “Please come with us. I don’t want to be the person who ruins things between you two.” I looked at her, then at Dante. He was not sorry for anything he had done. He thought he was being generous, and therefore I should kneel and thank him. I walked past both of them, went into the back of the shop, and shut the door. Through the wall, I heard him say, “See? She isn’t worth helping. You help her, and she doesn’t even know how to be grateful.” The car engine started, and the sound moved away down the street. A minute later, Rourke came in. He set the stack of cash on the workbench in front of me. “Take it, kid.” “No.” “Valentina.” He pushed it closer. “Your father drinks and gambles. With your situation, you need this.” I stared at the bills. They seemed to carry the smell of Dante’s expensive cologne. I walked to the sink, turned the water as hot as it would go, and started washing my hands. I kept washing until my skin was red and raw. That night, my father came back. He was drunker than usual, and he had seen the cash through the front window. He took it, then started taking everything else. He even put a chair through the front glass. I called the police. When they arrived, he was still swinging a hockey stick at the lights. Two officers put him in cuffs. On his way out, he spat at me. “You called the cops on me? On your own damn father? You were born for men to fuck, you filthy bitch. You should die. You should rot in hell.” I watched the cruiser pull out of the parking lot. Then I looked back at the wreckage in the shop and covered my face. So this was what it felt like to have nobody left around me.

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Selena, my family’s driver’s daughter, used my identity to online date billionaire Ethan. She messed up and offended him. In a fit of rage, Ethan ruined my family’s company, and my parents ended up in jail. I knelt before him, begging: “That wasn’t me! Selena impersonated me!” He yanked my hair, looking at Selena’s face – almost identical to mine – and sneered, “Still lying?” Selena, of course, had already taken the money and run. I couldn’t bear the crushing blow, so I swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills. In my final blurry moments, the door opened. Selena walked in, wearing my favorite white dress. She pinched my chin, a smirk playing on her lips. “Chloe,” she purred, “I actually messed with him on purpose. So, how’s it feel? Losing your home and family, isn’t it fun?” I stared at her in disbelief. “We look so alike, so why do you get to be the heiress while I’m just the driver’s daughter?” She tilted her head. “Rest easy, now. I’ll gladly take all your bags and shoes. And all that money Ethan gave me? It’ll be enough for me to live lavishly for most of my life.” As I drew my last breath, my heart was consumed by an ocean of hatred. Then, I opened my eyes again. I was back to the day Selena first used my identity to charm Ethan.

The bitter taste of the pills still lingered in my mouth, and Selena’s cruel words – isn’t it fun losing your home and family? – echoed in my mind. Before I could fully process it, I heard a ruckus from my closet. Selena stood with her back to me, pulling clothes out of my wardrobe one by one, carelessly tossing them onto the floor. She mumbled, her tone full of disdain, “Ethan loves pink, but why doesn’t she have a single pink dress?” “No wonder, she always acts so low-key. Who’d know she’s Chloe Hayes, the heiress?” My heart clenched. I’d always preferred to stay out of the spotlight and avoided social events, which was exactly how Selena found her opportunity. I moved my head slightly, letting out a faint sound. Selena’s body stiffened, a flicker of guilt flashing in her eyes. “Oh, you’re awake? You scared me!” She turned around, patting her chest, her voice laced with annoyance. “Why didn’t you say anything? You’re like a ghost.” I gazed at her innocent-looking face, remembering the horror of my family’s destruction in the previous life. My eyes burned with fury. Growing up, we shared everything—food, home, school. My mom felt sorry for Selena losing her mother early, so she made sure Selena had everything I did. I treated her like my own sister, always indulging and spoiling her. It was my indulgence that had turned her into an entitled and selfish person. I clenched my fists, my gaze sharp, and spoke coldly, “What are you doing?” Selena froze. She’d never seen me like this. After a moment, she blurted out defensively, “I’m looking for clothes to wear! Ethan’s coming back next week to meet me, and your closet doesn’t have a single suitable outfit. It’s so annoying!” Meet you? I scoffed. Selena, did you really think you’d get to meet Ethan next week in this life? Selena, seeing I wasn’t immediately offering to buy her clothes as usual, pouted. “Forget it, you’re never nice to me anyway. I’ll just go buy some myself.” With that, she casually wadded up my clothes and stuffed them back into the closet. Then, she nonchalantly picked up my perfume from the vanity and sprayed a few times. She acted as if she were the actual heiress of the Hayes family. I slowly stood up and said calmly, “I’ll go with you.” “Huh?” Selena looked surprised, then pushed me back. “No need, you just woke up. Get some more rest; I can go by myself.” I smiled, deliberately asking, “Why? Why can’t I go? Are you hiding something from me?” Selena’s gaze darted away, then she forced a strained smile. “No, of course not. I just don’t want you to get tired.” I put on my jacket and instructed Mr. Peterson, our driver, “Take us to the store Selena usually goes to.” Mr. Peterson nodded and soon dropped us off. The moment Selena walked in, the sales assistant greeted her like a celebrity. “Miss Hayes, you’re here!” The assistant said with an ingratiating smile. “We have some new limited edition items today; I saved the best ones for you.” I stood behind Selena, watching the assistant fawn over her. Miss Hayes? It seemed Selena had been using my identity quite a bit. Out of the corner of my eye, Selena nervously glanced at me, afraid I’d expose her on the spot. One of the sales assistants looked at me and asked curiously, “Miss Hayes, who is this?” Before I could speak, Selena quickly pinched my side, then said rapidly, “This is my driver’s daughter. She’s just with me to see the sights.”

I gasped, the pain almost making me cry out. Hearing Selena’s words, the sales assistants looked at me with a hint of subtle disdain, their attitudes immediately cooling. Selena, afraid I’d say another word, immediately pushed me into a nearby fitting room. She lowered her voice. “Chloe, I’ve always told them I’m the Hayes heiress. Otherwise, they’d treat me like dirt. You wouldn’t want me to be looked down on, would you?” I scoffed. “I’m just borrowing your identity. You never go out anyway, and we look so alike, nobody will ever find out.” Selena intimately linked her arm through mine. “Please? Let’s just pretend we’re playing dress-up today.” I lowered my eyes, concealing the surging anger within. Selena, enjoy your moment for now. After all, the higher you climb, the harder you fall. I smiled. “Okay.” Selena immediately tried on clothes with glee. She finally picked three items, placed them on the counter, and called out without looking back, “Checkout.” Seeing my delay, she turned to look at me, a flash of impatience in her eyes, as if asking, What are you waiting for? Why aren’t you paying? I looked at her and found it almost amusing. A driver’s daughter, in front of strangers, looking at the Hayes heiress as if she were an ATM. I remembered how in my past life, whenever we went out together, I always paid. And she would simply accept it, occasionally saying, “Chloe, you’re the best.” My kindness to her had become a weapon pointed at myself. I hid the mockery in my eyes, raised my hand, and pointed at the high-end, dusty pink gown on the mannequin in the display window. My voice was calm. “Wrap that one up.” Selena’s eyes instantly lit up. She quickly stepped forward and intimately linked her arm through mine. “Chloe, you’re so good to me! But this one isn’t really for me; the color is too deep. Why don’t you buy me a bracelet instead…” I subtly withdrew my arm and slowly said, “This is for me.” Selena’s smile froze. She stared at me in disbelief. The next second, a hint of suspicion flashed in her eyes. “Chloe, why are you suddenly changing your style?” Seeing I didn’t speak, she looked me up and down, her gaze critical. “Chloe, have your tastes gone bad? Pink is too sweet. You’re usually so cool and understated; you can’t pull it off. It’ll just look tacky and awkward on you.” “You don’t even wear makeup. Wearing that with a bare face would look so strange.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. Calmly, I took out my phone and scanned the QR code to pay. Selena’s face completely fell. As if something clicked, she said in a sarcastic tone, “I get it! You heard me say Ethan loves pink, so you’re deliberately buying these dresses to follow suit? You want to steal my thunder, you want to take my place and charm Ethan, don’t you?” The more she spoke, the more convinced she was she was right, her voice filled with accusation. “Chloe, Ethan and I have been talking for so long. Who do you think you are, suddenly showing up? You’re my best friend, how could you do this?” Not far away, a few sales assistants tidying clothes whispered to each other, their eyes openly disdainful of me. “They look so alike… Could she really be trying to steal her boyfriend?” “She’s the Hayes heiress, after all. If a driver’s daughter had such ideas, she wouldn’t know what hit her.” “Exactly. She should look in a mirror. Does she really think looking like Miss Hayes will turn a pauper into a princess?” “Shameless.”

Those words cut me like a knife. Selena heard them too. She didn’t say a word in my defense; instead, the corner of her mouth curved into a pleased smile. I turned to face Selena directly, emphasizing each word: “Miss Hayes, I have no interest in Ethan.” I allowed a slight smile. “My birthday is the day after tomorrow. I’m planning a birthday party and simply picking out a dress I like.” “What?” Her voice suddenly shot up. “A birthday party? When did you say you were having a birthday party? How come I don’t know about it?” I picked up my shopping bag and turned to walk out of the store. Selena, behind me, completely panicked. She knew that if this birthday party happened, all the prominent families would be there, and Ethan would definitely come. Then, Ethan would find out she had lied to him. Thinking of Ethan’s ruthless methods, Selena was instantly terrified. I heard her ragged breathing behind me, and in my peripheral vision, I caught her pale face, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “Chloe,” Selena hurried to catch up. “What’s wrong with you? You never liked these things before. Didn’t you say parties were too much trouble? Didn’t you say you hated socializing? Why suddenly…” I stared at her and slowly said, “Why are you so anxious about me having a party?” Selena instantly stiffened. Seeing my half-smile, a surge of anger rose within her. She stomped her foot, her voice forceful. “No, I don’t agree to you having one.” She took a step forward, grabbing my wrist, and spoke rapidly. “If you suddenly have a birthday party now, they’ll think all your past low-key behavior was an act. You have to understand, everything you do represents the Hayes family’s reputation. Your dad just handed the company over to you to manage; if you’re so high-profile now, you’ll be embarrassing him.” “And, you’ve rejected so many invitations before, saying you dislike socializing. Now you’re suddenly throwing your own party, what will people think? They’ll think you used to look down on them, deliberately put on airs, and now that they’re doing well, you’re trying to butter them up.” “Chloe, I’m doing this for your own good.” I lowered my eyes, looking at her hand gripping my wrist. Her nails were manicured; I had paid for that last month. The ring on her finger was a birthday gift I’d given her last year. The watch on her wrist was a limited edition my mom brought back from Switzerland; she said she liked it, so I took it off and gave it to her. Everything on her, from head to toe, was mine. And she was using this hand, adorned with my possessions, to stop me from reclaiming what was rightfully mine. I scoffed and said calmly, “Oh, but I’ve already sent out the invitations.” “What?” Selena gasped, her voice trembling. “Who did you send them to?” I feigned thoughtfulness. “The Brooks family was the first, and then the Stone family… I’ll help you test Ethan to see if he’s a good match for you. And the Harrison family…” Seeing Selena looking on the verge of collapsing, I directly pulled open the car door and got in. Selena was absent-minded all day. That night, as I lay in bed, I heard a phone conversation coming from the next room. “Baby, I heard you’re having a birthday party. Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” Selena’s voice was feigned calm. “I thought you’d be back next week anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. Honey, you don’t need to come.” “How can I not?” Ethan’s tone was serious. “How could I miss your birthday? I’ve already bought my flight ticket. I’ll be there right on time on the day of the party.” Selena’s heart tightened. Just as she was about to try and dissuade him, Ethan hung up. “No,” she murmured to herself. “I can’t just sit here and wait for disaster. This party has to be mine.” I scoffed. Can’t sit here and wait for disaster? I’d like to see what kind of trouble you can stir up.

Three days later, at the birthday party, all the city’s elite had arrived. “Chloe, it’s time to change.” Selena pushed open the door, holding a glass of orange juice. She was wearing a beautiful gown and exquisite makeup, looking even more like the birthday girl than I did. “Drink this, line your stomach. You’ll be busy tonight,” she said, handing me the orange juice. I took it and glanced down. The orange juice looked normal and smelled normal, but I noticed a tiny white particle on the side of the glass that hadn’t fully dissolved. “Thank you,” I said, looking at her and smiling. Then I raised the glass to my lips and took a large sip. Her eyes brightened. With the orange juice in my mouth, I used the pretense of wiping my lips to spit most of it into a tissue. A moment later, Selena leaned in solicitously. “Chloe, what’s wrong? You don’t look well.” I swayed a bit, playing along, and held onto the bedside table. “I feel a little dizzy. Maybe I’ve been too busy today.” “Then lie down for a bit,” she said gently. “The party’s still early. You rest, and I’ll keep an eye on things.” I lay down and closed my eyes. In that instant, I saw Selena flash a triumphant smile. It was identical to the one she’d given me when she squatted in front of me in my previous life. Selena stood by my bed for a moment, seemingly confirming I was really out. Then, she lowered her voice. “Come in.” The door opened, and I heard two sets of footsteps. “Tie her up, gag her, and take her to that abandoned factory on the west side of town. Don’t come back until I call you.” Ropes wrapped around my wrists, duct tape sealed my mouth. I didn’t struggle throughout the entire process. Then, two men carried me out of the bedroom, through the back door, and into a van that drove further and further away. Meanwhile, Selena slowly descended the stairs, a graceful smile on her face. “Happy birthday, Miss Hayes, you look stunning tonight!” “Mr. Hayes, you’re so lucky. I hear your company is running smoothly.” Selena smiled and nodded, graciously accepting all the compliments, comfortably enjoying all the glory that should have been mine. For twenty years, she had meticulously imitated my tone and expressions. Coupled with a face almost identical to mine, no one suspected she was a fraud. “Mr. Stone has arrived!” a voice announced from the entrance. All eyes in the room turned to the door. Ethan stood there, dressed in a black suit, holding a large bouquet of roses. He gazed deeply at Selena, then quickly walked forward and knelt on one knee. A collective gasp rippled through the banquet hall. “Miss Chloe Hayes,” his voice filled with tenderness, “I owe you a formal confession.” He took out a velvet box from his pocket, opened it, revealing a massive pink diamond ring. “Will you be my girlfriend?” The banquet hall was silent for three full seconds. Then, someone started clapping, someone shrieked, and people began chanting, “Say yes! Say yes!” Selena stood there, her heart pounding, a blissful smile on her lips. She took a deep breath and slowly extended her hand. “I…” The next second, the banquet hall doors were kicked open. The entire room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at the entrance. My gaze cut through the crowd, landing directly on Selena. “You’re Miss Chloe Hayes? Then who am I?”

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For five years, Ethan Stone spoiled me, making me the envy of every woman in the city. He remembered I didn’t eat spicy food, that I hated noise, and that I preferred simple, understated white dresses. He even had white noise machines ready in advance, knowing I’d have trouble sleeping on rainy nights. Everyone said he was madly in love with me. Until that night, when I saw a list titled “My Dearest” in his notes app. That’s when I realized I didn’t actually dislike spicy food, and I was never afraid of noise. Every single item on that list, which he had memorized by heart, was about his first love. For five years, he had merely been meticulously carving me into another woman’s image. Now, the dream was over. Mr. Stone, I’m not going to be your stand-in anymore. The auction house glittered with dazzling lights. My eyes were glued to the ruby necklace on stage. It was the main item of the night, and something I’d coveted for a long time. “Fifty million.” Ethan Stone, next to me, raised his paddle, his voice deep and cool. My heart fluttered. I turned to him. “Ethan, are you really buying it for me?” Ethan didn’t even spare me a glance. He stood up and, from the hostess, accepted not the ruby necklace, but a diamond bracelet. I froze. He had just bought that bracelet for sixty million. Ethan casually handed the ornate box containing the diamond bracelet to his assistant behind him. “Deliver this to the Willow Creek Estate immediately.” “She’s a light sleeper. Don’t ring the doorbell. Just give it to the butler.” The assistant nodded respectfully, then quickly left. I watched the assistant’s retreating back, my heart sinking little by little. The Willow Creek Estate. That was where Sophia Grey had been staying since she returned to the country. Ethan finally turned to me, giving me a look. He looked at my plain white evening gown, completely unadorned, and his brows slightly relaxed. “That ruby is too flashy. It doesn’t suit you.” “Don’t you always prefer simple and elegant things?” His tone was matter-of-fact, as if stating an undeniable truth. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I didn’t like simple things. I loved bold reds, vibrant passion, and anything that sparkled. But five years ago, the first time I stood before him in a red dress, he frowned and said, “Too garish. Change it.” After that, my closet only held black, white, and grey. My jewelry box only contained pearls and thin, plain bands. I thought that was the way he liked me. On the drive home, the silence in the car was suffocating. Ethan leaned back, closing his eyes to rest. Suddenly, his phone automatically connected to the car’s Bluetooth. An obnoxious calendar reminder popped up on the screen. “Thunderstorm tonight. Remember to remind her to drink hot milk and turn on white noise.” My breath hitched. I turned to look out the window, and sure enough, a fine rain had begun to fall. But I was never afraid of thunder. I slept deeper than anyone during rainstorms. I didn’t need white noise at all. Ethan suddenly opened his eyes, quickly dismissing the reminder on the screen. He offered no explanation, merely stating, “Just a work reminder.” I looked at his perfect profile, and suddenly felt incredibly estranged. Was it really just work?

Late at night, Ethan was showering in the bathroom. The water rushed loudly. His phone, resting on the bedside table, lit up with a message notification. Sophia: “Received the bracelet, it’s beautiful. Thank you for remembering I like this style.” I stared at the message and, as if compelled, picked up his phone. The password was his birthday. I had always known that. But I had never checked his phone. Because I trusted him implicitly. Tonight, however, that trust felt like it had been eaten through. I tapped on his notes app. At the very top, there was a pinned folder named “My Dearest.” Inside, there was a long, detailed list. “She doesn’t like bright colors; her clothes should be white.” “Her taste is light; she absolutely can’t touch chili.” “She’s afraid of noise; she dislikes crowded places.” “She’s allergic to seafood; be careful with meals.” “She gets scared during thunderstorms; needs company.” Every single item, every word, felt like a sharp knife stabbing into my eyes. I looked at these “preferences” he held as gospel. I was chilled to the bone, as if plunged into an ice cave. I loved bold reds. I lived for spicy food. My favorite was all kinds of spicy dishes. I loved going to music festivals, loved screaming in the crowd. My favorite food was spicy seafood. I wasn’t allergic at all! For five years, he had strictly followed this list, dictating my life. When I took him to a spicy restaurant, he’d coldly say, “Eating this isn’t healthy. Didn’t you say you disliked it?” When I wanted to go on a beach vacation, he’d say, “The beach is too noisy. Let’s go to a private resort instead.” I thought he was just controlling, just a bit arrogant. For love, I desperately suppressed my true nature to fit his “rules.” Only today did I understand. I wasn’t being cherished. I was just being loved wrong. The person he loved was never me. He was merely carving Sophia’s image onto me, stroke by stroke. The sound of the shower stopped. Ethan walked out, drying his hair. He glanced at the phone in my hand, and his face instantly darkened. “Summer, who gave you permission to touch my phone?” He strode over and snatched the phone away. There was no guilt in his tone, only offended fury. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. “Ethan Stone, I’m not allergic to seafood.” My voice trembled as I spoke each word. Ethan froze for a moment, then frowned. “What’s gotten into you in the middle of the night?” “Didn’t you break out in a rash last time after that sushi place?” I laughed, tears streaming down my face. “That was from the raw cashew cream at that fancy vegan restaurant you insisted we go to!” “I told you many times, I’m not allergic to seafood. I love spicy food. I love rubies!” Ethan’s gaze turned cold. “Summer Lynn, are you throwing a tantrum over that necklace today?” “It’s just a necklace. Tomorrow I’ll have my assistant buy you ten plain gold chains.” “Don’t make a scene. I’m tired.” He turned, tossed his phone onto the sofa, and got into bed. Leaving me with only his cold back. I looked at his back and suddenly felt a wave of nausea. This was the man I had loved for five years. He didn’t even know what I truly liked. He didn’t even have the desire to understand me.

The next morning, I went to my jewelry design studio. I’m a jewelry designer. But in these five years of marriage, my work had become increasingly scarce, and my style more and more monotonous. All minimalist, simple, lifeless lines. As soon as I walked into the studio, Mia, my assistant, rushed over. “Summer, this is bad!” “Mr. Stone canceled the media pre-interview for the international jewelry exhibition next month!” I stopped abruptly. “Why?” Mia’s face was grim. “Mr. Stone’s secretary called to say you don’t like being in the limelight, don’t like being surrounded by too many people.” “He said such noisy occasions weren’t suitable for you, and asked the organizers to withdraw your name.” I stood there, my fingertips digging deep into my palms. That was the big exhibition I’d been preparing for an entire year! I’d pulled countless all-nighters for this exhibition, designing a collection of colored gemstones. I wanted to use this opportunity to rediscover the radiant person I once was. But Ethan Stone, based on a single line in his notes app — “She’s afraid of noise” — had casually crushed all my hard work. He didn’t just want to control my life; he wanted to strangle my career. Just then, the studio door opened. Ethan walked in. Beside him was Sophia Grey, dressed in a simple white dress, looking delicate and fragile. The atmosphere in the studio instantly dropped to freezing point. Mia and the other employees exchanged glances, not daring to breathe. Ethan surveyed my studio, a slight frown on his face. “Why is this place such a mess?” He turned to Sophia, his voice immediately softening. “Sophia, you’ve just returned. You want to open an art gallery, and I think this location is perfect.” “Summer doesn’t really need this much space anyway. Why don’t we just give half of it to you?” I stared at Ethan in disbelief. This was my studio! It was a place I’d saved up for and bought myself before we got married! How dare he decide, with a single sentence, to give half of it to his first love? Sophia gently tugged on Ethan’s sleeve, smiling graciously. “Ethan, let’s not. Don’t make Summer feel awkward.” As she spoke, she browsed the display cabinets. Suddenly, her gaze stopped at a glass case. Inside was the centerpiece of my recently completed colored gemstone collection — an exaggerated, wildly styled ring set with a top-grade pigeon blood ruby. Sophia’s eyes lit up. “Ethan, this ring is so unique.” Ethan walked over, glanced at it, and his frown deepened. “The color is too intense. It doesn’t suit your delicate style.” Sophia bit her lip, looking a little hurt. “But I really like it.” Ethan turned to me and said in a condescending tone: “Summer, wrap this ring up and give it to Sophia as a welcome-back gift.” “Your overly flamboyant designs don’t sell anyway. You might as well do someone a favor.” I stood there, feeling all the blood rush to my head. “No.” I coldly spat out the single word. Ethan’s face instantly darkened. “Summer, don’t be so petty.” “Sophia isn’t feeling well. Can’t you just indulge her a little?” I walked to the display cabinet and locked the glass cover. “Ethan Stone, this is my passion project. It’s not a prop for you to use to flatter other people.” “Want to give a gift? Go buy one yourself!” Sophia’s eyes instantly welled up, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, Summer. I didn’t know this ring was so important to you.” “Ethan, let’s go. I don’t want it anymore.” Ethan protectively put his arm around Sophia’s shoulder. He turned to me, his eyes filled with utter disgust. “Summer Lynn, why have you become so petty and mean-spirited?” “You truly disappoint me.” With that, he shielded Sophia and walked out of the studio without looking back. I watched their retreating backs and suddenly burst out laughing. Laughing until tears streamed down my face. Petty and mean-spirited? For him, I had turned myself into a soulless puppet. In the end, in his eyes, I was just a jealous woman who wouldn’t even give a ring to his first love.

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Chloe and I had been together for seven years. For seven years, we crammed into a tiny rental apartment, pinching pennies until we finally saved enough for the down payment on the beachfront condo we had our eyes on—our future marital home. On the day we were supposed to sign the contract, she didn’t show up. She sent me a text, saying Ethan had been in a car accident, and she needed to be with him at the hospital. We’d sign the house papers next week. Then she added one last line. “Don’t overthink it. I just see him as a little brother.” I stared at the screen for three minutes, then replied with just one word: “Okay.” I immediately turned around, walked into the sales office with my bank card, and paid the full amount for the condo instead of just the down payment. The deed only had my name on it. As I walked out of the sales office, I happened to scroll past a new post from Ethan. He wrote: “When I was most scared, she was the first one there. The hospital’s disinfectant smell is awful, but with her here, I feel so much peace.” The accompanying picture showed Chloe leaning in to drape a jacket over him, their shoulders touching, an intimacy that was glaring. My finger paused, then I liked the post and left a comment: “You two look good together. She’s all yours from now on.”

“Liam, are you out of your mind? You liked his post? And commented ‘happily ever after’?” Ryan snatched my phone, his voice trembling with anger. “Don’t you know Ethan’s post was deliberately designed to piss you off? He’s declaring war on you!” I took my phone back from Ryan and pressed the screen dark. “I know.” Ryan froze. He stared at me, as if he didn’t recognize me, then slumped onto the sales office sofa. “Then you’re just going to let him walk all over you? Chloe’s such an airhead; doesn’t she know what today is? It’s the down payment for your new home! That’s the place you two have been looking at for a whole year!” “Ryan, do me a favor.” “Tell me, are we going to the hospital to confront that couple? I’ll go get the car right now!” “No.” I shook my head, pulling the purchase contract from my bag. “Come with me to the bank. I need to make a large transfer.” Ryan’s eyes lit up: “You’re going to pay the down payment yourself? Not putting her name on it?” “Not the down payment.” I looked at the blank space on the contract where two names were supposed to go. “The full amount. I’m buying it alone.” Ryan’s expression shifted from shock to a complex silence. He didn’t ask anything else, just clapped me firmly on the shoulder. At ten that night, Chloe’s text finally popped up, slow as ever. “Liam, Ethan’s calmed down, just minor scrapes. I’ll treat you to a big dinner tomorrow to make it up to you.” “I’ll definitely take time off next week to go with you for the house stuff. I’ve already told the agent.” “Go to bed early. Don’t overthink it.” There were those words again. Don’t overthink it. For seven years, every time she flaked on me for Ethan, or put me second for Ethan, the ending was always those light, airy words. As if all my anger and dissatisfaction were due to my narrow-mindedness, and not because she lacked boundaries. I replied: “Okay.” She instantly sent back a hug emoji. I tossed my phone onto the sofa and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Her electric toothbrush was still on the counter, next to the women’s facial cleanser she’d just unsealed yesterday. I grabbed a trash bag and swept in her toothbrush, facial cleanser, makeup remover, and the towel she kept at my place. Ryan leaned against the bathroom doorframe, watching me. “Liam, are you serious this time?” I didn’t turn around. I pulled a few of her jackets from the balcony and folded them into a cardboard box. “A month ago, I submitted a transfer request to head office for the European branch. Back then, I just wanted a change of scenery. But today, I truly don’t want her anymore.” “Because of that post?” “Because this morning, before she left, she poured me a warm glass of honey water.” Ryan didn’t understand: “What’s wrong with that?” “Last week, Ethan said his stomach had been bothering him recently and he needed honey water every morning. But she forgot that honey gives me severe stomach cramps.” I covered my faintly aching stomach and forced a smile. In college, I’d mistakenly eaten honey and had such acute stomach cramps I was writhing in pain in bed. She was the one who took me to the infirmary. Later, she remembered honey water was good for Ethan’s stomach, but forgot that honey would make me miserable. Ryan fell silent. The tape on the cardboard box made a harsh tearing sound. I sealed the box and brushed the dust from my hands. I didn’t say anything more. I just felt that seven-year mark, at this moment, had become utterly ridiculous.

The next morning, the agent from the sales office called. “Mr. King, your full payment has been processed. The contract is finalized, and the property now entirely belongs to you.” “Okay, thank you.” “And Ms. Chloe…” “Don’t worry about her. I paid for it, I signed the contract. It has nothing to do with her.” After hanging up, Ryan handed me an iced Americano. “Does Chloe know you have this much money?” “No. She thought my salary these past few years all went to daily expenses.” “Then this money…” “I started taking on freelance design gigs right after college, pulling countless all-nighters to save it up. I’d originally planned to keep it for her to start a business after we got married.” Ryan heavily thumped his coffee cup on the table: “Liam, how much have you actually poured into her these past seven years?” I opened my budgeting app on my phone and showed him. Her Mercedes. Her parents paid the down payment, and she thought the monthly car payment was only five thousand. It was actually eight thousand. I secretly transferred the remaining three thousand into her account every month. She loved photography. That forty-five-thousand-dollar Hasselblad camera? She thought it was a prize from a brand giveaway. But I’d actually bought it with a month’s salary and conspired with the brand manager to stage the whole thing. Last month, her mom was hospitalized, short thirty thousand for surgery. Chloe was frantic. I didn’t hesitate to cover the cost. Later, her mom held Ethan’s hand and said, “Ethan is such a thoughtful child, coming to visit me every day.” I stood outside the hospital room, holding the homemade soup I’d carefully prepared, listening to the joyful laughter inside, then turned and threw the soup into the trash. And on my birthday, Chloe gave me a cheap belt, saying that since we were getting married, practical gifts were the most important. The more Ryan read, the deeper his frown became. Taken individually, these might have just been small frustrations. But seven years of accumulating grievances had long since suffocated me. At noon, Chloe sent a text. “Liam, what do you want for lunch? I’ll pick you up.” “I neglected you yesterday, so I’ll spend the whole day with you today.” I replied: “No thanks, Ryan and I are out.” She instantly replied: “What about tonight? I booked your favorite restaurant.” My favorite restaurant. The last time I’d gone there was three years ago. But in those three years, she’d taken Ethan there no less than five times. I’d even seen check-in photos of that restaurant on Ethan’s social media, with the man wearing the suit I’d bought sitting across from him. “I’m busy tonight too. I have plans.” Two minutes later, her call came in. “Liam, are you still mad?” Her tone carried a hint of helpless amusement, as if she were coaxing a temperamental child. “No. I really have plans.” “What could be more important than having dinner with me?” she retorted with a laugh, her voice filled with certainty. She was certain I couldn’t leave her, certain I’d always wait for her. I looked at the property registry confirmation text I’d just received on my phone and said calmly, “I’m getting my property deed.”

Dead silence on the other end of the line. After a full five seconds, she let out a dry laugh: “What kind of joke are you playing with me?” “No joke. I bought the condo, full payment. With only my name on it.” “Liam!” Her voice instantly rose, carrying an unsuppressed anger. “Are you done making a scene?” I didn’t speak. “Just because I didn’t go yesterday? Didn’t I explain it to you? Ethan was traumatized by the car accident. What’s wrong with me, as his friend, going to be with him? Do you really have to make such a big deal out of nothing?” “Yes, I know. So I bought it myself. You don’t need to trouble yourself.” “You… you just wait. I’m coming to find you right now!” She hung up. Ryan looked at me, raising an eyebrow: “Did she freak out?” I tossed my phone back into my bag, finding that my heartbeat was surprisingly steady. At three in the afternoon, Chloe burst into the coffee shop where Ryan and I were. She was panting, sweat beading on her forehead, and when she looked at me, her eyes were filled with disbelief. “Liam, say what you just said again?” “I said, I bought the condo, full payment, my name only.” She slammed her hand on the table, making everyone around them turn their heads. “Where did you get that much money? Are you insane? That was supposed to be our marital home. What right do you have to decide alone?” “It’s my money, of course I can decide.” I took a sip of my coffee. “As for a marital home, now it’s just *my* home.” Chloe took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She pulled out a chair and sat down, reaching out to take my hand, but I pulled it away. She awkwardly withdrew her hand, her tone softening: “Liam, I know you’re upset about yesterday. But this condo is where we’re supposed to live together. How am I supposed to explain this to my parents if you do this?” She wasn’t worried about me being wronged, but about not being able to explain it to her parents. “No need to explain.” I looked at her. “Chloe, I’ve been considering something recently.” “What is it?” “Something about work.” She visibly relaxed, her tense shoulders slumping. She even managed a slight smile. “You scared me. I thought you were going to call off the wedding!” Her tone when she said that was so light it was almost cruel. As if the idea of “Liam leaving Chloe” was a wild fantasy. “Oh, right.” She pulled a delicate little velvet box from her pocket and pushed it across the table to me. “These are cufflinks I bought for you when I passed the mall. Consider it an apology. Ethan said this style really suits your temperament.” I looked at the box, not touching it. “Ethan picked them out for you?” “Yeah, he has good taste. He also said he felt bad about taking up your time yesterday and insisted I get you a gift.” I opened the box. Inside was a pair of silver cufflinks. They looked familiar. I opened Ethan’s social media. Three days ago, he’d posted an update: “I love these cufflinks so much, but they’re too expensive. I’ll come pick them up next payday.” The accompanying picture was of these very cufflinks. I pushed the box back. “I don’t like them. You should give them to him.” Chloe’s face changed: “Liam, don’t be ungrateful. I’m humbling myself to appease you, and you have to be so sarcastic?” “I’m not being sarcastic. I just think that since he likes them, they’d be more suitable for you to give to him.” I stood up and picked up my bag. “I have something to do. I’m leaving.” “Liam!” she called after me. “If you walk out that door today, don’t expect me to ever try to appease you again!” I didn’t look back. I pushed open the coffee shop door and walked out into the dazzling sunlight.

Wednesday afternoon, I was finalizing the transfer handover checklist at work. Ethan posted an update visible only to me. In the photo, he was wearing those cufflinks, smiling smugly. The caption read: “Someone always remembers the little things you say. Thanks for the gift.” I expressionlessly screenshotted it and saved it into an album named “Decluttering.” That album already contained dozens of screenshots. Late-night takeout orders she’d placed for Ethan. Jackets she’d lent to Ethan. Their backs as they secretly held hands, away from the crowd, during a company team-building event. Ryan said I was torturing myself. But I wasn’t. It was my reality check. Whenever I thought of the past seven years, and felt even the slightest hesitation, I would flip through that album. After seeing it, my heart would turn completely cold. Before leaving work, Chloe sent a text. “I have a dinner engagement tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me.” I replied: “Okay.” Before, if she said she had a dinner engagement, I would always stay up waiting for her, prepare hangover soup, and help her take off her alcohol-soaked jacket. Now, I just wanted to go to bed early. At eleven that night, my phone vibrated. It was a call from Chloe. “Liam…” Her voice was slurred; she was clearly drunk. “What is it?” “I… I’m at The Lure Bar. Can you come pick me up? I’m so dizzy…” The background was noisy, but I clearly heard a man’s voice. “Chloe, slow down. I’ll help you.” It was Ethan. I said calmly, “Since Ethan’s there, let him take you home.” “No! I want you to pick me up! You’re my fiancé!” she shouted into the phone like a spoiled child. “I’m really tired. I’m already asleep.” I hung up the phone directly and turned it off. When I turned it back on the next morning, over a dozen missed calls popped up on the screen, along with messages from Chloe on SnapChat. “Liam, you’ve changed. You never used to ignore me.” “I threw up the whole way home last night, and Ethan took care of me all night.” “What are you even mad about?” I looked at those messages and found them utterly ridiculous. I’ve changed? Yes, I finally stopped being her on-call, boundary-less nanny. I didn’t reply to her. Instead, I opened the email from HR. “Appointment Notice Regarding Liam King’s Transfer to Director of European Branch.” Effective date: The tenth of next month. I confirmed receipt. Less than twenty days until I leave this city, and this person.

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I stood by James for four years, helping him fight for revenge after his Pack was destroyed. Yet, at the celebratory banquet, he proposed to my half-sister, Olivia. He told me, “That special status is only for Olivia. You? You were just my most obedient tool.” Olivia deliberately stumbled and framed me for causing her miscarriage. Then she had someone inject me with poison. He witnessed it all but chose to believe her, not me. It wasn’t until the mate Ceremony, when the surveillance video of the truth played, that her malicious self-staged act was thoroughly exposed. James was shattered with regret, begging me to come back to him. But I simply linked arms with my fated mate, Alpha Ethan, and smiled faintly. “James, it’s too late.” Emma Wilson POV The Mooncrest Pack was invaded, and James fled in a desperate escape with his core members. Everyone said the powerful Pack was gone forever, but I was the only one who stood by James and fought with him. I believed he could rise again, that he could exact his revenge and reclaim the Pack. Four years later, he proved me right. James not only defeated the invaders but, with his immense strength, elevated the Mooncrest Pack to an even stronger position than before. After four years, he once again stood at the pinnacle of power, unrivaled. Everyone marveled, saying James was truly a genius Alpha, unlike any other. “Emma, your hardships are finally over.” My best friend, Sophie Miller, called, her voice full of joy. “I heard James is proposing at the celebration banquet tonight. Such a big deal. Did he drop any hints?” James was proposing at the celebration banquet tonight? My heart skipped a beat. I knew about the celebration banquet; it was a dinner to mark the Mooncrest Pack’s successful reclaiming of its territory. Many members from other Packs were invited. It was a grand announcement of the Mooncrest Pack’s return and James’s alpha status. But a proposal… he’d planned this in secret? “He didn’t tell me. Maybe he wants to surprise me,” I said, a smile I couldn’t hide blooming on my lips. “Alright, I can’t talk now. I’m picking up his gift.” I hung up and took the deep blue velvet box from the clerk. Inside was a pair of cufflinks, two perfectly cut black diamonds set on a platinum base. These cufflinks were a special, custom-made gift I’d commissioned for James to celebrate his successful revenge. But I hadn’t expected him to propose at this celebration banquet. Thinking of it, my heart was wrapped in a warm, sweet sensation. I put the box away, about to leave the jewelry store, when suddenly, a familiar voice drifted from behind a pillar nearby. “Are the items ready?” It was James. “They’re ready. This ring was custom-made according to the design you personally provided and the measurements. Please take a look.” His design? So, for tonight’s proposal, he’d even personally designed the ring. He truly wanted to surprise me tonight, just as I wanted to surprise him. My heart felt even sweeter, and my anticipation for tonight’s banquet grew. I was debating whether to go over and greet him when I heard the calm, smiling voice of Charlie Green, James’s friend and now his Beta. “When Olivia sees this ring you custom-designed for her, I wonder if she will be more delighted or surprised?” I froze, like a nail suddenly hammered into place, my mind a sudden blank. Olivia. My half-sister. Charlie sounded curious. “You specifically invited Olivia to tonight’s celebration, but Emma will be there too. Aren’t you worried she will see you propose to another woman and cause a scene?” The air seemed to still for a moment. Then, I heard James speak in a tone so calm it was almost indifferent. “She won’t know. I’ll find a reason to keep her from showing up.” Charlie sighed. “Four years ago, when the Pack was invaded, everyone thought we were finished. Only Emma believed in you. She endured four years of hardship with us, gave up her job and her life to help you, and even sold her grandmother’s sapphire necklace to buy supplies… Does all that still not compare to Olivia, who saved your life when you were young?” “During the toughest times, Emma was willing to follow me. She was indeed very good to me.” James was silent for a few seconds, then spoke slowly, his voice low. “I can give her anything, but Olivia not only saved me, she’s also my fated mate…” Charlie let out a sigh. “Alright, since you’ve already made up your mind, I won’t say anything more.” Footsteps quickly receded from behind me. I gripped the cold jewelry counter, my fingertips trembling, my blood freezing in an instant. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. My phone vibrated then, a message from James. “Emma, many Pack members will be at the celebration banquet tonight. You always dislike those large shifter gatherings, don’t you? Would you mind waiting for me at home? I’ll come back to you once the banquet is over.” I stared at the words, a chill spreading from deep within me. He didn’t know that I disliked shifter gatherings only because I didn’t want to run into members of the Silvermoon Pack. But these past few years, to help him, hadn’t I interacted with various Packs enough? Slowly, I lifted my stiff fingers and sent a reply: “Okay.”

Emma Wilson POV Perhaps it was the last shred of hope I still held for him, but I simply couldn’t believe that James would truly propose to another woman. Even less could I believe that the woman he was going to propose to was my half-sister. In the end, I still went to the Packhouse where the celebration was being held. It was easy for me to avoid anyone who might recognize me. I sprayed myself with perfume to mask my scent and changed into a maid’s uniform. The banquet hall was crowded. James was wearing the outfit I’d picked out for him that morning. He stood tall, chatting effortlessly, his eyes sparkling with renewed ambition. Olivia wore a shimmering silver mermaid-cut gown, her makeup exquisite and tasteful, one hand held firmly by James. The two walked in side-by-side from the entrance, heading towards the center of the venue under everyone’s gaze. My eyes fixated on Olivia. A distinct, dark red hickey was visible on her neck, just above her collarbone. And on the ring finger of the hand James was holding, a diamond ring sparkled, reflecting dazzling light under the chandeliers. James raised his glass and began to speak. “Welcome, all of you, to witness the return of the Mooncrest Pack. Four years ago, our Pack was invaded, my father was killed, and we lost everything. But today, we have not only successfully avenged ourselves and reclaimed what is ours.” He paused, his gaze turning to Olivia beside him, his voice filled with unprecedented solemnity. “I have also found my fated mate.” He took her hand, raising it high so everyone could see the ring on her finger. “Her name is Olivia Parker.” He looked at the woman beside him, her cheeks faintly flushed. “Without her, perhaps I wouldn’t be standing here today.” The entire hall erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers, people raising their glasses in congratulation. “Congratulations, Alpha Anderson!” “A fated mate! How wonderful!” I stood in the shadows, watching the couple embrace, watching them accept the blessings and adoration of the crowd. My nails dug deep into my palms, but I felt no pain. So, all this time, for four years, Olivia was the most important person to him, and without her, there would be no James today? What about me? What did all my years of companionship and sacrifice count for? A foolish joke? I tried to smile, but the curve of my lips was purely bitter. I didn’t rush out, didn’t make a scene to disrupt the meticulously planned proposal ceremony. Instead, I quietly turned and left the ceremony that wasn’t mine. The April night wind felt chilling. I walked aimlessly through the town streets, like a ghost. After an unknown amount of time, a wedding dress shop display caught my eye. The pristine white wedding gowns on the mannequins looked like an unreal dream under the warm yellow lights. The floodgates of memory suddenly opened. I remembered one of our most desperate times, when James and I passed a high-end bridal shop, and I couldn’t help but glance at the dresses. James noticed my longing for a wedding gown, squeezed my hand tightly, and said, “Emma, I’m sorry, I can’t give you anything right now. But someday, I’ll personally buy you a unique wedding dress and make you the most beautiful, happiest bride in the world.” At that moment, the light in his eyes was so bright and genuine. So I believed him, and I was willing to sacrifice everything for it. But now, he had put a ring he personally designed on another woman’s finger. Yes, he only said he would buy me a unique wedding dress and make me the happiest bride, but he never said he would make me his most beautiful bride. An uncontrollable ache bloomed in my chest again, tears blurring my vision. My trust in him had become a colossal joke. Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was an unsaved number, but one I knew well. I intended to hang up, but the moment my finger touched the screen, I hesitated. Then, I took a deep breath, masking my emotions, and answered, “Hello?” “Ms. Wilson, I apologize for calling so late, but we genuinely admire your abilities. Our Alpha sincerely invites you to join us, and he said he would agree to any conditions you propose. Are you truly not reconsidering?” This wasn’t the first time they’d called, extending an offer. This time, I suddenly no longer wanted to refuse them for James’s sake. I was silent for a moment. “Alright, I accept your offer to join you.” The person on the other end was clearly surprised by my decisiveness this time. “Really?” “Give me some time to handle things on my end.”

Emma Wilson POV I returned to the house James and I currently shared. He knew I wasn’t comfortable living in the Packhouse, so he bought this apartment in town for me. Thinking about it now, he never truly considered me a Pack member, did he? I placed the gift box containing the cufflinks on the shoe cabinet and went back to the bedroom. I barely slept until dawn. The next morning, as I was about to leave, I noticed the gift box on the shoe cabinet remained untouched. Clearly, James hadn’t returned all night. I stared at it for a few seconds, then left it undisturbed and walked out the door. News of James’s proposal had already spread like wildfire. “Emma!” The moment I stepped into the bar, Sophie Miller rushed towards me, angry, pulling me aside without a word. “What’s going on? How could James propose to Olivia? Has he lost his mind? And who even is Olivia, where did she come from?” Sophie was a friend I’d met while working at the bar, and also a shifter. But unlike me, she had her parents’ permission to leave her Pack and come here. I, on the other hand, had secretly escaped. Besides Charlie, only Sophie knew about my relationship with James. I was about to answer her when Charlie Green suddenly burst in. “Emma, Alpha James would like you to see him.” I patted Sophie’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll tell you later.” At the Alpha’s house in the Packhouse, Charlie announced at the door, “James, Emma’s here.” “Emma.” James took a few quick steps to take my hand, leading me into the room. His tone was apologetic. “I was too tired last night, so I just slept here and couldn’t come back to you. Did you eat on time this morning? You’re not mad at me, are you?” I didn’t know if he was really too drunk to come back, or if he just chose to stay at the Packhouse. I didn’t want to ask. I gently pulled my hand away and handed him the resignation letter I held in my other hand. “If you’re worried about me being angry, then just sign this.” In truth, James had never acknowledged any other identity for me. To him, I was perhaps just a trainer, a healer, or some other tool. But whatever I was, I had decided to leave now. “What’s this?” James took it curiously, then looked up at me in surprise after seeing the contents. “You’re leaving?” “Yes.” I offered no further explanation. James seemed confused as to why I was suddenly leaving, but seeing my calm expression, which didn’t suggest a tantrum, his face relaxed. “Of course. You’ve been with me for four years without a proper day of rest. Now that the Pack is back on track, it’s only right for you to get some good rest.” He smiled. “After all, I can give you anything now.” He picked up the pen from the table and signed the approval section. “There. Hand this to Charlie. Someone else will take over the development of the ointment and the training of the shifters.” Handing the paper back to me, his tone was light. “I’ll take you out to lunch. What do you want to eat?” “James!” Before I could speak, Charlie burst into the room. He came to James’s side and whispered, “Olivia says she needs to see you. She’s at the entrance.” James’s expression shifted slightly. He turned to me and said, “Emma, something urgent just came up. I need to step out for a moment.” He didn’t even wait for my answer, just grabbed his jacket from the chair and rushed out of the room. Watching his retreating back, I clenched the paper in my hand. Originally, I just wanted to live in an unfamiliar place, so I came to this town and applied for a bartender job at a local bar. But I didn’t expect to meet James. He was a regular at the bar, and the Alpha heir of the Mooncrest Pack. I fell irresistibly in love with him, even though he wasn’t my fated mate. I picked up the combat skills I’d abandoned, started trying to regain my strength, hoping to be worthy of James. Later, when the Mooncrest Pack was invaded, I carried my love and courage for him, accompanying him to a remote hideout. We huddled in that small space, gathering strength for revenge. We defeated enemies who came after us, tried various ways to earn money for supplies… Those nights fighting side-by-side, our combined efforts, forged into a burning fire of revenge that transformed the Mooncrest Pack and brought it back into the spotlight. I thought that after these four years of companionship, I had found a place in his heart. But in the end, he still chose Olivia. The pain in my chest spread. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and put away the paper. Stepping out, the sunlight was a bit dazzling. I squinted, and suddenly saw James carefully helping Olivia into a car by the roadside. He then quickly rounded to the driver’s seat and got in. “James?” Sophie, who had come looking for me, was furious and about to storm over. “What does he mean? What does he take you for? I’m going to find out!”

Emma Wilson POV I hastily pulled back Sophie, who was about to rush forward. “No need. There’s no need to ask him.” “What do you mean, no need?” Sophie was both angry and anxious, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Emma, you gave him so much! How could he treat you like this?” I couldn’t answer her, just smiled faintly. “Come have a drink with me.” Sophie looked at me, understanding that beneath my calm exterior, I was heartbroken. Her anger was replaced by concern. “Let’s go! I’ll drink with you all you want today!” In the noisy bar, I drank glass after glass. The burning liquid slid down my throat, searing my stomach, but it couldn’t warm my slowly chilling heart. After an unknown number of drinks, I got up to go to the restroom. I leaned against the sink, looking at my reflection. Red-rimmed eyes. Disheveled. I tried to smile, but couldn’t. As I exited the restroom, a figure stumbled into me, nearly knocking me over. I frowned, stepped back, and looked up to see Ben Carter, another friend of James’s. He looked like he’d had a lot to drink, his face flushed from the alcohol. “Isn’t that Emma?” Ben squinted, recognizing me. He slapped me hard on the shoulder. “Here to find James, right? Come on, come on, he’s inside, I’ll take you!” Before I could refuse, Ben dragged me around the corner and to the door of a private room. “James, look who I brought!” Ben flung open the door, shouting with a triumphant air. The laughter inside the room instantly died. Everyone’s gaze turned towards us. There were seven or eight people inside, all close friends of James, and Charlie Green was there too. James sat on the central sofa, with Olivia, dressed in an exquisite dress, sitting closely beside him. At this moment, James’s hand was still holding Olivia’s. They looked very intimate. Time seemed to freeze at that moment. James’s smile stiffened. The others exchanged glances, and the atmosphere instantly turned cold. Ben belatedly realized what was happening. He slapped his forehead, his drunkenness momentarily scared away, stammering, “Uh, no, that… Emma, I…” Before he could finish, I turned without a word and walked away. “Emma!” James’s face changed. He quickly rose and chased after me. In the hallway, James grabbed my wrist, pulling me back and forcing me to face him. “Emma, why are you here? And why are you turning around and leaving?” I looked up at him. “If I stayed there, wouldn’t the atmosphere be awkward for you?” James was silent for a moment before saying, “Did someone tell you something?” “Do I need to be told?” I laughed bitterly. “You proposed to Olivia. All your friends know. The Pack is buzzing about it. You never even intended to hide it. You were just waiting for me to leave on my own, weren’t you?” “That’s not what you think!” James interrupted me, eager to explain. “Olivia is the daughter of a prominent Silvermoon Pack Alpha. She saved my life once, and these past four years, she’s used her Silvermoon Pack connections to get me a lot of support. She’s even made enemies because of it. I owe her too much.” “So what? What does that have to do with me?” “She’s my fated mate. I can’t abandon her.” He grasped my shoulders with both hands. “But Emma, I still love you. As long as you don’t mind her presence, nothing between us has to change. It can be just like before.” I was stunned, completely incredulous. “So you’re saying you want me to be the other woman in your mate bond with someone else?” James’s expression faltered. He wanted to defend himself, but his words were cut off by a sudden voice. “James, what are you doing out here?” Olivia gracefully approached us.

Emma Wilson POV Hearing her voice, James quickly composed himself, releasing his hands from my shoulders. Noticing his action, I couldn’t help but curve my lips into a mocking smile. Standing beside us, Olivia’s gaze darted between us, finally asking him curiously, “James, aren’t you going to introduce me?” James frowned, his throat bobbed. He looked a bit unnatural as he said, “She’s Emma. A Pack warrior. A healer.” Hearing his introduction, I found it absurd and laughable. Four years of shared hardship, four years of unreserved sacrifice, and in the end, in his words, I was just a healer. James avoided my gaze, turning to ask Olivia, “Why did you come out here?” Olivia pouted playfully, “I saw you run out, thought something was wrong, and wanted to check.” With that, she naturally linked arms with James. James’s body stiffened for a moment. He looked at me hesitantly, his lips moving as if to say something. But I wouldn’t give him the chance to speak. I turned my back and left without looking back. After leaving the bar, I didn’t return to the town apartment. Instead, I went to the hideout where James and I had lived for four years. It was a mountain villa a little further from town, purchased by James’s father. It was remote enough not to be discovered by enemies, but close enough to monitor the situation at the Packhouse. So we lived there. Though most of the time, to avoid being found by patrolling shifters, we hid in the basement. Unlocking the door with a key, a scent of old times rushed in. The hideout wasn’t large, only one story, but it was filled with our tough yet sweet memories. I remembered one time, James held me from behind, his chin resting on my head, whispering, “Emma, I’ve put you through so much living here. Someday, I’ll give you the best of everything in the world.” Later, on the night James organized the revenge operation to reclaim the Pack, when he asked what I wanted, I only asked for this villa. Because this place held great sentimental value for me. So James gave it to me, and the keys remained with me. Now, it seemed, this sentiment was more like a sarcastic joke. I curled up on the old sofa in the living room for a night. This was my last time mourning our past. The next day, I contacted an agent and put the villa up for sale. “The price is negotiable. My only request is to complete the transfer of ownership as quickly as possible.” “Understood.” The agent was very efficient, quickly arriving to take photos and assess the property. After all that was done, I was about to leave when I saw an unexpected figure. Olivia leaned against a white sports car, seemingly having waited for a long time. I didn’t want to see her at all, and was about to leave, when Olivia suddenly greeted me proactively, “I heard you and James lived here for four years, so this place must mean a lot to you, right?” My footsteps stopped. I slowly turned to face her. “What do you want?” Olivia looked down, gently caressing the ring on her ring finger, her expression smug. “Even though you and James went through a lot together, it’s a shame the Moon Goddess arranged me as his mate. I’ll soon be the Luna of the Mooncrest Pack.” “Well, congratulations then,” I replied indifferently. “Wishing you both happiness in advance. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” “Emma, didn’t you expect this yourself? You spent four difficult years with him, but still lost to me?” An ache pulsed in my chest, but I suddenly laughed. “You’ve always liked to snatch things from me since we were kids. Now that you’re grown, you’re snatching my man. What’s so surprising about that? After all, you and your mother, Maggie, both love to steal other people’s men.” Seeing Olivia’s suddenly enraged eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a deep irony. James never knew that I was once the Alpha heir of the Silvermoon Pack. But after my mother passed away, my father, Robert, brought Olivia and her mother into our home, and we lived together. Olivia always tried to take everything from me growing up, and Robert always favored Olivia, making me give in again and again. So, as an adult, I left the Silvermoon Pack and cut ties with them. “Olivia, you’re so proud of picking up my cast-offs. Don’t you find it disgusting?” I finished my sarcastic remark and turned to leave. “Stop! What do you mean ‘cast-offs’?” Olivia, enraged, rushed over and grabbed me. “You just couldn’t win against me! You lost!” I sneered. “I lost to you?” Olivia gritted her teeth, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. “This time, I’m going to make you lose even more thoroughly!” Suddenly, before I could react, Olivia grabbed my hand and forcefully pushed it against herself. Then, Olivia staggered backward, her back slamming hard against the car, letting out a pained scream. To anyone watching, it clearly looked like I had forcefully pushed her to the ground. “Olivia!!!”

Emma Wilson POV A sharp pain shot through my shoulder as a man, rushing forward, slammed into me, sending me back two steps. By the time I managed to steady myself, I saw James cradling Olivia in his arms. “Olivia, are you alright? Where did you fall?” James’s voice was filled with a panic I had never heard before. He hadn’t even stopped to think: how could an Alpha’s daughter be so easily harmed? But then again, perhaps that was the power of a fated mate. I sneered, stepping back. If this was how it was, then I truly needed to step aside. Just then, Olivia began to wail. “My stomach… my stomach hurts so much…” Olivia looked to be in extreme pain, fine beads of cold sweat on her forehead. James followed her gaze and saw a patch of dark red blood flowing down her upper thigh. I saw it too. That jarring red, like a bolt of lightning, struck my mind, leaving it suddenly blank. “James, save… save our baby…” Olivia clutched James’s arm, crying, looking at him. “You have to save our baby…” “Okay, okay, don’t talk. I’ll take you for treatment!” James scooped Olivia up and rushed to his car like a madman, not even sparing me a glance. I stood rooted to the spot, stunned. A baby? They actually had a baby? I hesitated, but still followed them back to the Packhouse. At the clinic. The healer emerged from the treatment room, her expression grim. James immediately went up to her. “How is she?” “I’m very sorry. She had a miscarriage. We’ve treated her, and the mother is out of danger.” “A miscarriage…” James’s tall frame swayed. Then, he slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on me in the corner. His eyes were as cold as daggers. As if questioning me, why did you do that? I opened my mouth to speak, but just then, hurried footsteps approached. As I started to turn towards the newcomer, a resounding slap landed hard on my face. My cheek instantly throbbed painfully, my ears rang, and my head was snapped to the side. I tasted a hint of blood. Seeing this, James rushed over. “Robert, what are you doing?” “James, you don’t need to get involved! This is our family’s business!” “What?” Robert didn’t explain James’s confusion. Instead, he glowered at me. “Emma, how could you be so vicious? That’s your sister, and she was pregnant! How could you do such a thing?!” I clutched my swollen, red cheek, looking at my biological father, the man I shared blood with. I said coldly, “I didn’t push her. She deliberately fell to frame me.” “You dare to argue?!” Robert trembled with rage. “Olivia has always been kind and thoughtful, but you! You’ve always been selfish since you were a child, always fighting with Olivia for everything, and you’ve laid hands on Olivia more than once or twice. I think you just don’t want to see your sister happy!” “I’m selfish, I like to fight with her, I don’t want her to be happy?” Yes, Robert was always like this. In his eyes, Olivia was always kind and thoughtful. And I, Emma, was always the immature, narrow-minded one. It was always Olivia who liked to snatch my things, always Olivia who provoked me with her words, but in the end, it was always my fault. He never listened to my explanations, never gave me justice. Maggie cried, heartbroken, to Robert, “Olivia lost her baby because of her, and she’s still trying to argue. As their father, shouldn’t you do something for Olivia?” “Since she’s still so malicious, then send her back to the Silvermoon Pack to face punishment!” Robert said, cold and resolute, ordering the warriors behind him, “Take her back, lock her up, and keep a close eye on her!” A warrior stepped forward to restrain me, but I said coldly, “Back off. I’ll go myself.” I knew nothing I said would matter. No one would believe me. But before I was led away, I couldn’t help but look at James. I heard my dry voice ask, “And you? You don’t believe I didn’t push her, either?” James frowned. He said, “I saw you push her with my own eyes. How do you expect me to believe you?” I looked at him and suddenly laughed. My eyes held no warmth, only the coldness of utter disappointment. James, I really don’t love you anymore.

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At the intermission of the concert, when the lights dimmed, Ethan Vance’s hand on mine slowly slipped away. I stayed in the front row and watched him walk into the side corridor. He found Chloe Davis there. He cupped her face, leaned down, and kissed her. Applause rose around us. Someone nearby said, “Mr. Vance and Mrs. Vance really do have a strong marriage.” Another voice followed, “Even after all these years, they’re still so sweet.” I stood up and pushed through the crowd. I walked right up behind them and tapped his shoulder. Ethan Vance turned. I lifted my left hand into the light. The missing knuckles on my fingers were exposed for everyone to see. “You’ve got the wrong person.” The applause died midair. “I’m June. I am your wife.” June Abbott POV Even my own mother couldn’t stand the sight of my imperfect left hand. But it was the distinguished Ethan Vance who, under everyone’s gaze, took that very hand. We got married in just one month. My family, the Abbotts, had raised me for twenty-four years, always terrified of anyone seeing my left hand with its missing ring finger. No matter how pale my skin was, it couldn’t hide that glaring flaw. The guy I was supposed to marry, the one my parents had set me up with, was sitting in our living room. He was there to break things off. One moment, he was praising my gentle nature. The next, he saw my left hand offering him tea, and he flinched, not even taking the cup. From that day on, Mom wouldn’t even let me serve tea. “Just sit still. Don’t move.” Mom roughly pulled my sleeve down, her voice a hushed whisper. “Don’t make people feel unlucky the moment they walk in.” I got used to shrinking into corners. At the music shop, I used my right hand for writing, my right hand for turning sheet music. My left hand was always clenched tightly in my lap, hidden in my sleeve. If anyone glanced at it, I wanted to hide it behind my back. Until that night at the charity concert. I was still sitting in the most inconspicuous corner. On stage, Ethan had just finished his last piece. Applause roared like a tide. Countless dignitaries and socialites, clutching flowers, waited for him in the aisles. Ethan elegantly rose to bow, but he didn’t take flowers from anyone. He walked through the crowd, heading straight for the most secluded spot. Under the astonished gazes of others, that tall figure stopped in front of me. I panicked, clenching my left hand so tightly my nails dug deep into my flesh. But Ethan slowly bent down. His warm palm covered my cold hand, gently, irresistibly, one by one, unfolding my curled, deformed fingers. The glaring spotlights shone down, exposing the imperfection I most wanted to hide to everyone’s view. My breathing stopped completely. Anyone else would have frowned and looked away. But Ethan just bowed his head, his thumb gently stroking my missing knuckle. He looked for a very long time. He showed no disgust, nor did he let go. In that moment, I heard my own frantic heartbeat. So, in this world, there really was someone who could see my imperfection and was still willing to stand before me. A month later, I married him. Engagement, marriage registration, moving into the villa. It all happened so fast, like a dream. Before leaving, Mom adjusted my veil, her words as harsh as ever. “The Vances agreeing to take you is your good fortune. Once you’re married, don’t let that hand make you a nuisance.” Sitting in the wedding car, I looked at my left hand. The memory of Ethan gently unfolding it that night was all the courage I had to say yes. But the sweetness of our new marriage lasted only a few days. I soon realized that Ethan’s thoughtfulness was layered with an unyielding ice. At breakfast, I tried to reach for my cup with my left hand. Ethan saw me. He thoughtfully pushed the cup closer. But his fingers, brushing against the back of my hand, quickly recoiled. On walks, I tried to offer him my left hand. Ethan would take it, but his palm’s warmth was perfunctory. Once we crossed a street, he’d naturally let go. At the dining table, I placed my hand near his. He’d glance down at his documents, casually tap my fingertips as a response, then continue turning pages. He never initiated holding my hand. Every single time, I was the one who offered my imperfect left hand. He’d briefly hold it, like completing a task, then let go. I started having sleepless nights. I couldn’t help but recall that concert night. He had unfolded my hand, gazed at it for so long. But it turned out, he only ever unfolded it. He never truly held it tight. The villa’s temperature was certainly warm, yet I felt a chill seeping into my very bones. I stopped offering my hand, instead retreating it into my sleeve, just as I had in the Abbotts’ house. Ethan noticed my unusual behavior and, for once, actually asked, “Cold?” I numbly nodded. The next day, Ethan instructed the staff to turn up the underfloor heating by three degrees. He was still the impeccable, faultless husband, but my heart sank further with each passing day. Late that night, unable to sleep from anxiety, I went to his study to find him. The study door was ajar, only a dim desk lamp illuminating the room. Ethan sat with his back to the door, wearing headphones, his posture slightly hunched. I was about to push the door open, but through the crack, I saw something that froze my blood. Ethan, who was always composed and emotionally unreadable to the outside world, now sat with his eyes closed, tears silently streaming down his handsome face. One hand pressed tightly against his headphones, as if desperately trying to catch every subtle sound inside, looking both desperate and out of control. The headphones’ noise cancellation was good, but the room was too quiet. A very faint female voice still leaked out. “I can hear you.” In that instant, I felt like I was nailed to the spot, my fingertips turning icy cold. That wasn’t my voice. After so long of marriage, Ethan was always courteous and considerate towards me, never raising his voice, yet he also never showed the slightest emotional fluctuation towards me. All his pain, suppression, and loss of control, it turned out, were reserved for the woman in those headphones. I stiffly lowered my head, looking at my left hand, hidden in my sleeve. This hand, which he had publicly unfolded at the concert, which I had humbly offered countless times, and which he had politely and coldly released countless times. It turned out, what I thought was salvation was nothing more than a misunderstanding. I took a step back, shrinking my left hand deeper into my sleeve. Through the door crack, Ethan still sat with his eyes closed, the tear stains on his face gleaming coldly in the dim light. I retreated into the dark hallway, my loose sleeve falling, completely covering my imperfect left hand without a trace.

June Abbott POV I then hired someone to investigate. The investigation report quickly arrived. The paper envelope was thin, yet it felt like a thousand pounds in my hand. The private detective put the file down. Before leaving, he looked at me with a hesitant, sympathetic gaze. “Mrs. Vance, the latter part of the report… you should prepare yourself.” I sat alone in the silent room and broke the seal. The first page caught my eye. At the top, a name: Chloe Davis. I had heard that name. In Seattle’s socialite circles, Chloe Davis didn’t have a good reputation. Capricious, arrogant, and bullying. That was almost everyone’s assessment of her. But I didn’t know that Chloe and Ethan had been good friends since childhood. The report detailed an old incident: Years ago, on a rainy day, Ethan changed his piano practice location at the last minute. Chloe Davis ran out to chase his car and was hit by a truck at an intersection. Her life was saved, but due to brain damage, Chloe’s hearing severely deteriorated, almost to deafness. The sentences on the paper were cold. My fingertips dug fiercely into the edge of the page. I suddenly understood. That night, Ethan in the study, wearing headphones, crying as he listened to “I can hear you”… That wasn’t a declaration of love at all. That was the first thing Chloe Davis said to Ethan after her last rehabilitation surgery, when she regained her hearing. He had recorded it, treated it as salvation, as a treasure, punishing himself with it over and over again every night. I trembled as I flipped the page. After Chloe’s accident, Ethan frantically searched for doctors for her, contacted overseas rehabilitation centers, and all expenses were paid from his private account. Every year on Chloe’s birthday, the gifts he sent were the most exclusive custom-made hearing aids. Tucked into the report were a few photos. One showed Ethan standing at the entrance of a rehabilitation center, holding a precision instrument gift box. Another showed Chloe Davis in a wheelchair, her eyes red-rimmed, looking up at him. The last one was a dimly lit hospital corridor. The distinguished and extraordinary Ethan bent down slightly, his expression incredibly gentle and focused, patiently adjusting the hearing aid behind Chloe’s ear. His movements were so light, so practiced. I looked at the photos, my eyes stinging. I thought of my left hand, which I had offered countless times after marriage. He found even holding it for an extra second perfunctory, but it turned out he could be so careful and gentle when touching another woman. However, a deeper, more brutal despair lay in the latter half of the report. It was a doctor’s diagnosis and rehabilitation recommendation. “Patient Chloe Davis, after the car accident, suffers from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Her psychological state is extremely fragile. It is recommended to keep her in a stable, routine relationship environment. Building a sense of family security by observing normal couple interactions can help reduce her fear of loneliness.” Below this sentence, a note in Ethan’s handwriting, penned in ink: “I need a quiet wife, preferably from a good background, emotionally stable, to maintain a long-term family setting.” “A quiet wife…” I murmured the words, tears abruptly splattering onto the paper. At this moment, I finally understood that charity concert completely. There was no divine intervention, no salvation. The reason Ethan walked towards me in the corner, under everyone’s gaze, wasn’t because he felt pity for my imperfect left hand, and certainly not because of love. It was because I was sufficiently insecure, sufficiently quiet. I had an imperfect hand, I had suffered neglect in the Abbotts’ household. Just a tiny flicker of light, and I would obediently stay in the position of Mrs. Vance. I was the perfect, faultless tool. Ethan needed a perfect marriage in name, an act for the psychologically fragile Chloe Davis to observe. He needed to use his seemingly happy family to heal another woman’s trauma. A low whimper escaped my throat. I began to tremble uncontrollably. The paper crumpled in my hands, my knuckles turning a horrifying white from the force. No wonder he wouldn’t touch me after we married. No wonder he found even holding my hand for an extra second a burden. Because this marriage, from beginning to end, was merely a meticulously planned scenario therapy. In this house, I was just a prop in a display window. Whether this prop was called June Abbott or another name, Ethan simply didn’t care. He never walked towards me. He merely chose my manageable insecurity at a time when I most longed for salvation. The room was deathly quiet, save for the faint sound of paper being crushed. Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside, a staff member passing by, then quickly fading away. I didn’t become hysterical, nor did I tear up the papers. I just gritted my teeth, held back my tears, and then, with my imperfect left hand, carefully straightened and smoothed out the scattered documents, page by page. The edges of the paper were sharp, cutting my fingertips and drawing tiny beads of blood, but I felt no pain. I put the documents back into the envelope and tucked it into the deepest part of the drawer. When I pushed the drawer shut, the wood caught for a moment. The corner of the page, the one about observing normal couple interactions, peeked out. I looked at it expressionlessly, then reached out and forcefully pushed the drawer all the way in. All my self-deception, I personally locked away in the darkness.

June Abbott POV I arranged to meet Ethan at the music shop three days after reading that investigation report. I didn’t ask about Chloe, nor about the “normal couple interaction model.” Asking wouldn’t change anything. I just wanted to try one more time, to put my left hand in front of him, to see if he would actually come over. The music shop wasn’t busy that afternoon. A few colleagues were organizing sheet music in the back. When Ethan walked in, I was already sitting at the piano by the window. He checked the time. “Something wrong?” I placed my left hand on the keys. That hand was naturally imperfect; it couldn’t play full chords. I’d practiced for many years, knowing how to avoid the empty spaces, how to make a one-handed piece sound less awkward. When the first note fell, the shop quieted a bit. Ethan stood behind me, his gaze on the keys. My left hand slowly moved between the black and white keys, the missing part of my finger always exposed. Each press required a little more force than for an average person. The piece was short. After the last note faded, my left hand remained on the keys. I looked up at Ethan. “Could you teach me to play a four-hand duet?” Ethan didn’t speak immediately. I finished my request. “I’ll play the left-hand part, you play the right. Just once.” This was the first time I’d asked him for anything since our marriage. Not a cup, not a car, not the title of Mrs. Vance. I wanted him to sit beside me and play one piece on the same piano. Ethan’s phone vibrated. He looked down at the screen, his brows quickly furrowing. I watched his expression change. I already knew who that expression belonged to. “Chloe’s rehab training didn’t go well today.” Ethan silenced his phone. “She’s having a bit of a breakdown. I need to go to her.” My left hand, still on the keys, froze. “This piece is very short,” I said. Ethan picked up his jacket from the back of the chair, walked over to me, and patted my shoulder. “Next time.” The words were light, and familiar. He turned and walked out. The music shop’s glass door opened, and the chime above it rang once. His figure quickly disappeared down the street. My colleagues in the shop had all stopped what they were doing. Someone still held a stack of sheet music, another a polishing cloth. Their gazes fell on me, then quickly shifted away. I sat at the piano, my left hand still on the keys. The keys were cold. The chill crept up from my fingertips, along the back of my hand, to my wrist. The most constant thing Ethan left me was the coldness each time he let go. A colleague softly called my name. “June?” I looked down at the keys. The four-hand duet music was still spread on the stand, the right-hand part densely noted. That part should have been played by Ethan, sitting beside me. Now the right side of the bench was empty, the corner of the sheet music fluttering in the breeze from the window. I reached out my right hand and pressed down on the score. The sounds of talking resumed in the shop. A customer trying out a piano could be heard from the other end. No one looked at me anymore, but that scene had been witnessed by everyone. I sat for a long time. When I finally lifted my left hand from the keys, faint white marks were pressed into my fingertips. I placed my right hand on the edge of the piano lid and slowly closed it. The lid lowered with a soft thud. The shop fell silent for another moment. I closed the four-hand duet music book and put it back on the lowest shelf.

June Abbott POV The day Chloe’s hearing temporarily regressed, Ethan stayed at the rehab center all night. I called him a few times, but the phone just rang unanswered. Later, I got the address from the driver, changed my shoes, and rushed over. The rehab center’s corridor was long, with stark white walls and lights, and tightly shut patient room doors. A nurse passed by me and asked, “Are you looking for Mr. Vance? Should I go in and tell him?” I shook my head. I thought Ethan would come out soon. I stood outside the patient room in high heels. The heels were thin, the shoes stiff, and at first, my heels just felt warm. Minutes ticked by, and the nurse asked again. I still said no. Occasionally, very low voices came from inside. Ethan’s voice was hushed, as if afraid of startling someone. I moved closer to the wall, shifting my weight to my other foot. The shoe was rubbing against my skin, and the pain grew sharper. After more than an hour, I glanced down. The inside of the shoe was already stained dark red. A blister had burst. Blood clung to the leather, and every movement pulled at the wound. The patient room door finally opened. Ethan stepped out, his eyes bloodshot, his shirt sleeves rolled up. I instinctively angled my injured foot towards him. “Ethan.” He saw me standing in the corridor, and his expression darkened a little. “What are you doing here?” I leaned against the wall, my heel still bleeding. I was about to speak when Chloe let out a muffled groan from inside the room. It was very faint. Ethan immediately turned around. He didn’t even look down at my foot. The door closed in front of me, a gust of air rushing from the gap, then quickly dying out. I stood there, blood from my heel seeping down the shoe. A few minutes later, Ethan came out again. He held a pair of slippers, blue plastic soles, with the rehab center’s logo on the top. He bent down and placed the slippers at my feet. “Put them on.” I looked down at those slippers. The edges of the soles still had a bit of dirt, and the front was creased from many people stepping on them. The communal items from the rehab center were now placed at my feet. Ethan had already pulled out his phone. The screen was lit, Chloe’s profile picture displayed. “She wants an energy drink, a specific brand. The convenience store downstairs is about to close. I’ll go buy it.” I looked up. He remembered Chloe’s needs so clearly. The brand, the time, when the convenience store closed. For the blood on my heel, he only left a pair of communal slippers. “Ethan,” I called him. Ethan paused. I asked, “Did you see my foot?” He glanced back, his brow furrowed. “Just put on the shoes. Don’t make a scene.” Another sound came from the patient room. Ethan’s patience snapped. He turned and walked towards the elevator, his steps quick. The corridor lights shone on his shoulder, and he didn’t even put down his phone. I stood there, watching the elevator doors open and close. Those communal slippers remained in place at my feet. I didn’t put them on. I bent down and took off my high heels, placing them against the wall. When my feet touched the ground, the cold tiles pressed against my skin. The wound tore open, and blood dotted the floor. A nurse looked up at me from the station, startled. “Ma’am, your foot…” I picked up my bag and walked out barefoot. Every step hurt. The blood from my heel left faint marks on the corridor floor, trailing from the patient room door all the way to the elevator. The communal slippers remained in their spot, their toes pointed in the direction I had left.

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