My childhood best friend carried the transfer student to the campus infirmary, leaving bleeding me behind. I won the game, but I lost him. Afterward, he apologized to me, and I just smiled and said it didn’t matter. Because I didn’t love him anymore. If everything went according to plan, he would never see me again in this lifetime. Years later, he hiked seven treacherous mountain trails on foot, but he truly couldn’t find the girl he had carelessly thrown away. 1 The atmosphere at the track and field meet was electric. When Liam ran toward me, my mind went blank for a second, and then my entire heart started to tremble. We had been giving each other the silent treatment for almost two weeks. We were childhood sweethearts who grew up together. We shared the same crib as babies and basically shared the same wardrobe as toddlers. From the moment we could babble, whether we were playing house or getting into fights with other kids on the playground, we were always on the same team. We were inseparable. Our relationship was so intertwined that our parents naturally treated us like an engaged couple. They would get together for drinks and joke that once we got married, they’d hand the family businesses over to us and happily travel the globe. To prepare for this grand retirement, our mothers had already mapped out their cross-country RV routes and European cruises. Everyone thought we would end up together. Even I thought so. So, when we had our huge fight two weeks ago, I expected him to eventually cave and apologize like he always did. I never imagined he would actually ignore me for fourteen straight days. On the sun-baked turf of the football field, I watched the boy running toward me. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his usually calm face was etched with frantic anxiety. It was the first time I had ever seen him look so panicked. The rough rubber of the track dug painfully into my scraped calf. Thinking of our two-week cold war, I felt a surge of grievance. I reached my hands out toward him. “Carry me…” To the nurse. Before I could finish my sentence, Liam bent down, scooped up the transfer student, Maya, who had fallen next to me, and sprinted toward the campus clinic. He didn’t even spare me a single glance. I froze in place, my outstretched hands stiff in the air. The bleachers were roaring with cheering students, but all I could hear was a ringing in my ears. The boy I had loved for over a decade had just carried away another injured girl. 2 Maya was a new transfer student this semester. She was a straight-A student, polite, and universally liked. She aced every AP class she took, and her reputation as a sweet, helpful girl was known by everyone. More importantly, she was beautiful. Her only “flaws” were that she came from a low-income neighborhood and was a bit painfully introverted. When Maya first transferred, Liam and I still shared a desk in homeroom. She was seated directly behind us. I always liked pretty, hardworking girls. I was the one who showed her around campus, introduced her to people, encouraged her to run for student council, and even chased away the creepy guys who tried to harass her at the bus stop. Back then, Liam used to get jealous of how much attention I gave Maya. “People can’t just have zero friends forever, can they?” I would say, poking him in the spine while riding on the back of his bicycle. “When I get my period at school and forget a tampon, I can’t exactly ask you to bring me one, can I? You can’t help me pick out bra sizes either. Relax, you’ll always be my absolute favorite person in the world.” In my heart, Liam was my boyfriend. Maya was just a good friend. And Liam had genuinely cared for me once. When I got my first period, I thought I was dying. He was the one who sprinted to the pharmacy, his face burning red, to buy me pads. I was an extrovert, impulsive and hot-headed, which meant I accidentally offended people a lot. Every single time, he was the one who smoothed things over for me. He used to affectionately ruffle my hair and tease me, saying my temper was so explosive that no guy would ever want to marry me when I grew up. “Chloe, maybe if you beg me, I’ll agree to be your boyfriend.” 3 I don’t know exactly when Liam and Maya became so close. I didn’t even notice when the back of his bicycle stopped being my reserved seat, or when we stopped walking to the parking lot together after the final bell. Maya struggled with her French pronunciation, so he stayed after school to tutor her. Maya’s mom got sick, so he offered to drive them to the hospital. Without me realizing it, the roles reversed. I was no longer the one making him jealous; I became the one quietly staring at his back. No, I was staring at their backs. One day, Maya tapped me on the shoulder and asked timidly, “Chloe, is it okay if we switch seats? You’re a bit too tall, and I can’t see the whiteboard from back here.” I didn’t say a word. I just looked at Liam. His eyes gave away nothing. I noticed his hair was cut a little shorter than usual, and Maya had recently changed her hairstyle too. On the day we swapped seats, Liam was the one who helped Maya move her heavy desk. As I carried my things away from him, he looked at me like he wanted to say something, but he swallowed his words. Liam wasn’t much of a talker, and Maya was quiet too. Yet, whenever Maya asked him a question, he would patiently explain the answer, even handing over his perfectly organized study notes to her. Sometimes, when Maya’s test scores improved, I would catch him secretly smiling. It felt like I was watching a coming-of-age romance movie play out right in front of me, and I wasn’t the female lead. I drifted further and further away from Liam, to the point where my jealousy mutated into a deep dislike for Maya. During a volleyball match in Gym class, Maya’s team happened to play against mine. Maya had transferred from an underfunded public school where they rarely played structured sports. For the first time in my life, a vicious competitiveness flared up inside me. I spiked the ball mercilessly. She couldn’t receive a single one. Her team was getting crushed, and during one dive, she tripped and scraped her knee on the hardwood floor. “Chloe, did I do something to offend you?” With everyone watching, Maya looked at me with tearful, pitiful eyes. “I thought of you as my best friend. I know your family is rich and powerful, but I’ve never asked you for anything. Why are you targeting me?” The other students started whispering, wondering what Maya could have possibly done to earn my wrath. I was the star of the volleyball team, but I had never humiliated an opponent like this before. That was exactly when Liam walked into the gym. He gently guided Maya to the bleachers, then picked up the volleyball. The smirk on his lips was one I knew intimately—it was his calculating, game-on smile. “Maya isn’t great at this. Let me play against you.” And for the rest of the period, he absolutely destroyed me on the court. 4 The track meet was still roaring outside. I limped back to our empty classroom. The only other person there was Asher Hayes, the notorious bad boy of our grade, who was sleeping at his desk because he had injured himself and skipped the events. Hearing me walk in, Asher cracked an eye open. “Ooh, trouble in childhood-sweetheart paradise?” I ignored him, staring at the two desks in the front row. They were perfectly aligned, their textbooks stacked neatly. They looked like a matched set. I had taken off my sneaker. The scrape on my calf ran all the way down to the top of my foot, and blood was smeared everywhere. Because I didn’t want to see Liam and Maya at the clinic, I had refused to go get it treated. I lowered my head and blew on the wound. Without warning, a tear dropped directly onto the raw skin. The boy I had loved for over a decade had abandoned me today. When Liam finally walked into the classroom, I had just finished swabbing my leg with iodine. He stared at my bloody leg, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he was only just now realizing I had been hurt. I saw his lips part several times, but not a single word came out. It wasn’t until I slung my backpack over my shoulder to leave that he reached out and grabbed the strap. “Why didn’t you go to the nurse?” He looked at me, exasperated. “Stop throwing a tantrum. Maya feels incredibly guilty. Because you didn’t go to the clinic, she feels like she did something wrong to you.” “Wow, she’s such a saint.” My smile must have been dripping with sarcasm, because Liam’s face darkened with displeasure. I yanked my backpack strap out of his grip. Suddenly remembering something, I turned back around, reached into my desk, and pulled out a small, gold-stamped box. I thought back to the volleyball match. Because I couldn’t beat him, I had ultimately dove too hard and skinned my own knees. Back then, we hadn’t started our silent treatment yet. He was the one who took me to the nurse. While bandaging me, he had asked why I hated Maya. “I know you. You’ve never been overly competitive,” he had said. “Even if you want your team to win, you never spike the ball so viciously that the other person can’t even touch it.” “Chloe, Maya’s home life is a mess. We should be more forgiving of her.” My heart felt numb. I couldn’t even recall the sting of his words from that day. But in this moment, I suddenly felt the urge to let go. I shoved the gold-stamped box into Liam’s chest. I wanted to smile, but my facial muscles wouldn’t cooperate. “I’m taking next week off. Happy early birthday.” I had never missed Liam’s birthday in my entire life. A flash of genuine panic crossed Liam’s face. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Chloe, what are you doing? You promised…” “Liam, that was in the past.” In the past, he had also promised that if anyone else ever tried to marry me, he would break their legs. 5 I wasn’t a girl with massive, world-changing ambitions. My family was wealthy, my parents were liberal, and they didn’t put a ton of pressure on me. The only real plan I ever had for my life was to study hard, get into Stanford with Liam, take over my parents’ company, and fulfill their dream of traveling the world. I never imagined a future without Liam. When my dad heard I wanted to overhaul my college applications, he was so shocked he thought I had a fever and almost dragged me to the ER. “There’s no deep reason, Dad. I just don’t like the West Coast anymore. I want to apply to the East Coast.” Liam was the one obsessed with staying in California for Bio-Engineering. Not me. As long as I wasn’t breaking the law, my parents let me do whatever I wanted. Changing my college list was a minor blip to them. That night, I was already in bed when someone knocked on my door. Assuming it was my parents, I called out, “Come in.” I turned around to find Liam standing by my bed, his face pale and serious. “You’re still coming to my birthday party, right?” He sounded uncertain. He tried to sit in his usual spot on my favorite armchair, but he clearly felt the icy hostility radiating from me. “Does it matter if I go? It’s just the usual crowd. Nothing special.” I flicked on the bedside lamp, and the light revealed a nasty bruise on Liam’s cheekbone. I wanted to ask what happened, but the words felt stuck in my throat. As he had pulled closer to Maya, I had naturally been pushed away. Liam didn’t expect me to be so cold. “You aren’t going to ask what happened?” “It’s about Maya, isn’t it?” I didn’t need to ask. He nodded. “Her parents’ marriage is toxic. Her dad is an alcoholic with a gambling problem. When I went over to drop something off, they were fighting. I lost my temper and got into a fistfight with her dad.” “And why are you telling me this?” “If possible, I hope you stop targeting her at school. Maya is truly pitiful. Compared to you, she doesn’t even have a safe home to go to…” I picked up the tube of ointment he had tried to hand me and tossed it straight into the trash can. I let out a dry laugh. “Listening to you, it sounds like I’m the cause of all her misery. Don’t forget, when those creeps from the public school harassed her at the bus stop, I was the one who stood up for her.” That incident was the actual catalyst for our cold war. After the volleyball game, I ignored Maya completely. She relentlessly tried to apologize, but I coldly ripped up her apology letter and threw it away. Liam told me I had crossed a line. But I didn’t think I was wrong. I disliked her. I disliked her a lot. Upset over the torn letter, Maya wandered off campus alone and got cornered in an alley by some sketchy dropouts. Without thinking, I sprinted in to help her. Liam was right behind me. But to my shock, I watched him pull Maya into his arms, taking the hit from a baseball bat that was meant for her. And me? Liam grabbed Maya’s hand and bolted, leaving me surrounded by the dropouts. In a panic, I smashed the cash register of a nearby convenience store to trigger the alarm, which ended up getting me hauled into the police station. Just like Liam explained later: I had taken private self-defense classes since I was a kid. I knew how to protect myself better than Maya did. That was how Liam and I fell out. 6 I really didn’t go to Liam’s birthday party. Maya did. She wore the designer dress I had gifted her on her first week of school. In the photos posted by our classmates, Liam stood in the center of the crowd. Maya was leaning softly against his shoulder, her cheeks flushed, smiling gracefully, surrounded by everyone like a princess. Our mutual friends hadn’t yet realized the tectonic shift between Liam and me. Later that night, Liam’s mom came over to my house. “I know you must be sick since you missed the party, sweetie. Are you feeling any better?” My parents were out of town on business, so our housekeeper and I hosted her. Liam’s parents treated me like gold, especially his mom. Every year for Liam’s birthday, she would prepare two gifts: one for him, and one for me. “This year, I bought you two pairs of heels. Our Chloe is a grown woman now; it’s time to start building your stiletto collection.” Liam had been right about one thing. I grew up surrounded by love. Whether it was my parents or his, I was cherished. I wasn’t lacking money, and I wasn’t lacking love. But I also knew clearly that I owed Maya absolutely nothing. Her unfortunate life had nothing to do with me. “Thank you,” I hugged his mom affectionately, just like always. “When I take over the company, I’ll send you and my mom on that round-the-world cruise you’ve always wanted.” No matter what happened between Liam and me, I would always be grateful for his parents. I had always been at the top of my class. When midterms rolled around, my rank jumped up even higher. Liam and Maya still sat in front of me. The only difference was that Liam occasionally turned around to talk to me. “Chloe, want to walk home together after school?” It had been a very, very long time since we walked home together. Before I could answer, Maya chimed in with a sweet smile. “You should, Chloe. The street near the school is under construction, and there have been some muggings lately. It’s too dangerous for you to walk alone. I specifically told Liam to make sure you got home safe.” I never thought the day would come when my childhood best friend offering to walk me home would be a favor granted by another girl. I briskly shoved my books into my bag. “No thanks. My driver is picking me up.” I rejected their “charity,” but when the final bell rang, Liam and Maya were standing by the school gates, looking determined to escort me. I tried to walk past them, but Maya grabbed my arm. “Chloe, I know you’re mad at me. I thought about it a lot, and I realize Liam and I have been too close lately. We neglected you, and that’s why you’re upset. Don’t worry, I’m giving Liam back to you right now.” I honestly didn’t understand why she was crying. I hadn’t done anything, but she was sobbing like her heart was shattered. My mom used to say that because I grew up shielded by money, there was a lot of manipulative malice in the world I didn’t understand. “Liam is a living, breathing human being, not a toy we trade back and forth. He can hang out with whoever he wants. Stop acting like I’m bullying you.” I yanked my arm out of her grip. In her dramatic flailing, she lost her balance and fell to the pavement. 7 Liam and I got into another explosive fight. “Just apologize to her. Please, I’m begging you.” It was the first time I had ever heard Liam speak so low and desperately to anyone. I was a wealthy heiress, but wasn’t he a privileged rich kid too? “Maya has it so hard. After school, she has to work shifts to support her mom. She’s the exact same age as us, but she has to fight just to survive. I’m begging you. You have everything. Just say sorry. She constantly feels guilty around you.” I just stared at him coldly. In that moment, it hit me clearer than ever. Liam and I had never actually spoken the words “I love you.” Everyone just assumed we’d get married, but technically, we weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. I kicked Liam out of my house. I stewed in my room for a long time, until I got an email notification. I had been officially accepted into Columbia University’s undergraduate business program for the fall. Getting that definitive answer extinguished a lot of my anger. I realized that because I spent all my time with Liam, I didn’t actually have any other close friends. I drove alone to a local barbecue joint and ordered a massive platter of ribs and brisket to celebrate. “Tsk. Where’s the golden boy?” It was the kid who slept through every class: Asher Hayes. “If you’re trying to pick a fight while I’m alone, I suggest you rethink it.” I took a bite of my ribs, barely glancing at him. “Or I won’t hesitate to complain to your dad.” My family’s backing meant I feared absolutely no one. Including Asher. Asher was the exact opposite of Liam. Liam and I were the obedient golden children. We competed for first place, never caused trouble, and were the pride of our social circles. Asher was a famous delinquent. He skipped class, had terrible grades, and rumor had it he put a guy in the hospital a few years ago. His billionaire father had to pull massive strings just to keep him out of juvie. “You make me sound like a monster.” Asher casually reached over and grabbed one of my ribs. “Princess, can’t you just accept that I saw a classmate sitting alone in a sketchy neighborhood and came over to protect you?” 8 I thought Asher had lost his mind. Out of nowhere, he demanded to be my desk-mate, claiming that sitting next to the valedictorian would miraculously cure his bad grades. It was true that Liam had been so distracted by Maya’s drama that he had dropped out of the top ten, while my grip on first place was ironclad. To his credit, Asher didn’t actually drag me down. He spent every class either sleeping or silently playing games on his phone under the desk. He never participated in group projects. During study hall, I slammed a group worksheet down in front of him. “You better finish your half of this, or you can crawl back to whatever dark corner of the classroom you came from.” I had zero interest in reforming my classmates. The only person I ever cared enough to manage was currently busy managing someone else. Asher definitely didn’t need my pity. Asher looked at me like I had just told a hilarious joke. He propped his head up on his hand and smirked. “Princess, do you think you own the school? You make me move my desk, now you’re forcing me to do homework? Is this your version of bullying?” I rolled my eyes, annoyed. I refused to let my parents see my group project average drag down my GPA. Under my withering glare, Asher rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Fine. It’s just a few questions. I’ll do it.” “Seriously, Princess, you’re the sole heir to a massive company. Why do you work so hard? You’re already going to inherit the earth. Leave some oxygen for the rest of us trust-fund kids.” I ignored him, keeping my head down and focusing on my AP Calculus homework. Suddenly, I felt eyes on me. I looked up and met Liam’s gaze from the front row. Our eyes locked, but neither of us spoke. Strangely enough, I was gradually losing interest in what Liam did. I rarely checked to see what he and Maya were doing during class anymore. “You don’t need to help me anymore.” Maya’s voice broke his stare. “My mom was discharged from the hospital. She’s recovering well, so I don’t need to work as many shifts at the diner. You don’t have to go either.” With Liam’s financial help, Maya’s mom had quit her terrible job and opened a small diner. She had collapsed from exhaustion recently, so Liam and Maya had been working there after school. Liam looked at Maya with that eternal, gentle warmth. “Okay.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “425833”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I have a terrible temper. I roast anyone who crosses me, and I’ve made it my personal mission to give corporate America a brutal reality check. Coincidentally, our conglomerate got a new CEO. He shares my last name. Instantly, a rumor spread through the agency that I was the new big boss’s daughter. Hahaha. So don’t even think about texting your auntie for a project proposal at midnight. Got it? 1 My manager was a complete moron. When I first joined the company, the first thing he did was poke around to see who I was connected to. I told him I didn’t pull any strings; I got in by passing the brutal multi-round corporate assessments fair and square. He looked at me like I had just told a joke. “No connections? How the hell did you get a desk here?” I ignored him. What a clown. Later, he snooped around and even tracked down the HR rep who interviewed me. Once he confirmed that I actually got in on pure merit, he started looking down his nose at me. I was the youngest in our department, the only Gen Z hire. He claimed he wanted to “challenge the younger generation,” but in reality, he just dumped all the grunt work on me—the stuff the older, do-nothing lifers in the office refused to do. And this work was mind-numbingly stupid. For example: finalizing the schedule for cross-departmental meetings, and then making me call every single department head one by one to inform them. Right after I finished calling everyone, Greg Patterson—my manager—would casually say, “Oops, let’s change the time.” Then he’d make me call everyone back. And I would be the one getting yelled at by the annoyed department heads. After bowing and apologizing on the phone, I’d walk back to our suite. Before I even pushed the door open, I could hear Greg gloating inside, saying that young hires needed to be broken in and put in their place so they’d be obedient. I laughed out loud. According to the laws of corporate physics, if I get yelled at, you’re not escaping the blast radius either, buddy. I pushed the door open, smiled sweetly, and said, “Did you guys catch the news lately? My dad always says the men who have no control over their own lives love acting like everyone’s father at work. Take care of your own miserable little cubicle first before trying to play daddy to the rest of us.” Greg’s face turned sheet white. I pretended I just noticed him and gasped. “Greg! Why do you look so pale? You should really get a prescription for testosterone or something. Balance yourself out!” A few coworkers stifled laughs, quickly biting their lips and looking down. Whatever. They were scared of Greg. I wasn’t. Before getting this job, I made a killing running a snarky commentary channel on YouTube. I only took this corporate gig to make my grandfather, who was bedridden in the hospital, happy and proud. To say something incredibly rebellious: I had already decided that the day my grandpa passed away, I would quit this place. But before I quit, I planned to march up to Greg’s desk and slap every single document he ever wrote—complete with all his typos and horrific formatting—right across his face. He was an incompetent hack who did nothing but bark orders. A total waste of oxygen. On Friday morning, I handed my project proposal to Greg. He was glued to his phone, aggressively texting either his wife or his mistress. He didn’t read a single word of the proposal. I couldn’t care less. When the clock struck 5:00 PM, I grabbed my bag and headed for the elevator. Suddenly, he cared about the work—specifically, my work. “Riley! Are you done with everything? Leaving so early?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been here for my required eight hours. Are you approving overtime pay if I stay?” I walked out without waiting for an answer. Our conglomerate was massive, and hiring was strictly regulated. Greg didn’t have the authority to fire me. He didn’t even have the power to give me a raise or a promotion. So, his entire management strategy consisted of shifting blame, making empty promises, and using verbal manipulation. Before me, two or three junior staff members had quit entirely because of this idiot. When I first started, a guy from the neighboring department warned me that Greg was a nightmare to work with. I told him it was fine. There isn’t a coworker in this world I can’t “get along” with. And if we can’t get along, they become my enemy, and they don’t deserve to be in my airspace anyway. I’ve had plenty of bosses. Some were perfectionists, but as long as we got the job done, I could reason with them. But someone as aggressively stupid as Greg? This was a first. I handed in my proposal on Friday morning. He didn’t say a word. Fast forward to Saturday night. I was at my apartment playing with my cat when he tagged me in the massive, company-wide Slack channel. “@Riley Lawson, there are glaring issues with this proposal.” Wow. The sheer audacity. Our department had its own private group chat. Are you blind? You’re dragging me in the company-wide channel just to show the executives that you’re “working hard” on a Saturday night, right? I put my cat down and cracked my knuckles over my keyboard. “Good evening, Greg! I actually sent that proposal to you on Friday morning. But you seemed pretty busy all afternoon having a very loud phone conversation about how to grill the perfect brisket.” “I reminded you to review it, but you ignored me. I’m so sorry there are mistakes! Please point them out so I can fix them. Oh, and while you’re at it, drop that brisket recipe in the chat! It sounded delicious.” Enter. Send. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour. The company-wide channel was dead silent, but my DMs were blowing up. Coworker A: Riley, you absolute legend! Me: Thank you, I try. [Blushing Emoji] Coworker B: LMAOOOO! Now I want brisket! Me: Tell Greg to drop the recipe. Coworker C: Girl, that was the MAIN channel! Me: Exactly. It’s the MAIN channel, Greg! Greg was completely mute. He didn’t reply in the main chat, and he didn’t even dare DM me. My dad was right. The men who love playing alpha dog are just paper tigers. They bully the weak and cower before the strong. It takes a man to know a man! 2 Monday morning. Greg slammed the printed proposal down on my desk. Smack. His face was the color of a bruised plum, his eyes bulging out of his head. My coworkers held their breath, furiously typing on their keyboards to look busy. Yeah… most people would be intimidated. But this is Riley we’re talking about. Back in my YouTube days, I dealt with internet trolls wilder than anything in a corporate office. You think I’m scared of a guy going through a midlife crisis? Greg glared at me, dead silent, waiting for me to speak first. Always the considerate employee, I asked with deep concern, “Greg, your face is super red. Is your blood pressure spiking? You can’t mess around with high blood pressure at your age. It leads to strokes, and strokes lead to paralysis. If you’re paralyzed, your wife is going to end up pushing your wheelchair while she flirts with the pool boy.” Greg’s face went from plum to a vibrant crimson. He slammed his fist on my desk. “Riley Lawson! Is that how you speak to your manager?!” I immediately feigned panic. “Huh? Greg, I’m just a straightforward person! I don’t mean any harm, I’m just worried about your health! Don’t hide your symptoms from your doctor!” He looked like he wanted to hit me. He literally rolled up his sleeves. My coworkers hesitantly looked over, looking like they were ready to break up a fight. I shrank back in mock terror and asked tentatively, “You’re not going to assault me in an office building exactly three blocks away from the Chicago Police Department headquarters, are you?” Yep, the precinct was right around the corner. Response time would be phenomenal. Greg roared, “Fix your proposal! I spent my whole weekend correcting it! Don’t ever make me clean up your messes again!” I nodded, pretending to be terrified. “Yes, yes, absolutely. I will heed your wise teachings and fix it at the speed of light.” Greg stomped back to his corner office. Before stepping inside, he shot me a death glare. Ugh. When beautiful people glare, it’s fiery and romantic. When ugly men glare, they look like wild boars stuck in a fence. If Greg had just left me alone, I actually would have fixed it immediately. But there was nothing fundamentally wrong with the proposal. He was just nitpicking to assert dominance, demanding the corporate equivalent of drawing a transparent line with red ink. Since he wanted to disgust me, I decided the proposal could wait. Time to look at some handsome celebrities to cleanse my eyes. The number one rule of office slacking: master your keyboard shortcuts. You must be able to switch to an Excel spreadsheet in a fraction of a second. To set the trap, I piously opened the company’s internal intranet homepage and left the top news bulletin running in the background. Then, I opened a pop-culture site and happily scrolled away. Footsteps approached! I unleashed the finger speed of a twenty-something gamer and instantly swapped my tabs. Greg roared with righteous fury, “Riley! What the hell are you looking at?!” I looked up innocently. “Huh? I’m reading the company news portal. Did you want to read it too, boss?” Greg thought he had me cornered. “I saw the reflection in the glass! You’re reading garbage tabloid news!” I silently turned my monitor around so the whole office could see, and slowly read the headline of the intranet article aloud: “Conglomerate Appoints New CEO: William Lawson Takes the Helm.” I looked at him politely. “Greg, are you saying the new CEO is garbage tabloid news?” Greg’s face turned a sickening shade of green. My coworkers’ expressions were absolutely priceless. 3 The rumor mill fired up immediately. Word around the water cooler was that I was William Lawson’s daughter. One day, Jessica from HR came over to subtly interrogate me. I found it hilarious. Sure, the new CEO kept his private family life strictly confidential, but still… “You guys have my background check and emergency contact forms, right?” I asked. Jessica gave me a knowing wink. “Come on, it’s just us, you don’t have to play dumb. The CEO’s daughter is your exact age. And on your HR forms, the ‘Father’ section is left completely blank. We get it. We just didn’t expect a nepo baby to be so low-key… well, I guess you’re not that low-key, hahaha. We should have known! With an attitude like yours, you definitely have someone powerful backing you.” Yep. My father, who is currently resting in peace in the cemetery, is backing me. I’ve got the ghosts of my ancestors on my side. Are you scared yet? I told my best friend about this over drinks. She laughed so hard she choked. “Did you clarify things?” I took a sip of my martini. “I basically inherited a billionaire work-dad for free, and no one actually confronted me directly. Would you clarify it?” She slammed her glass down. “Clarify my ass. Only an idiot would correct them.” Exactly. The rumor spread like wildfire. With my new “cheap dad” in play, my work life became unexpectedly smooth. Every department head was suddenly incredibly polite to me. If I stared at them for more than two seconds, they started sweating. Except for Greg. During the week the rumor peaked, Greg was away on a business trip. I don’t know if his social standing was just that terrible or if people were intentionally trying to screw him over, but absolutely no one told him about the “Riley is the CEO’s daughter” theory. He was completely in the dark. When he came back, he was as arrogant and obnoxious as ever. He walked into the office, didn’t even sit down, and started screaming. “I leave for one week, and the office looks like a dump! Do you people not know how to clean? Do you expect me to do it?” After venting his weird midlife-crisis rage, his eyes darted around and locked onto me. “Riley, go mop the floor and Windex the glass partitions.” Was he actually insane? We had a dedicated janitorial staff that cleaned the building every night. Plus, we were on the 30th floor. Who the hell washes the outside windows? If you want me to fall to my death, just say it directly. I sat in silence for two seconds. Suddenly, Brenda, a senior woman in our office, shot up from her chair. “I’ll do it! Riley, you focus on your work!” I stared at her in shock. Brenda used to be Greg’s number one lackey. Whenever us younger hires got tortured, she played deaf and blind. But today… she clearly realized that my metaphorical thighs were much thicker than Greg’s, so she was jumping ship to my side. Greg was baffled. “Brenda, you don’t need to cover for them. You work hard enough taking care of your kids. Take a rest.” Oh right. Brenda was the one who constantly complained about how hard it was to be a mom, using it as an excuse to dump her actual corporate workload onto the juniors. She spent her days in the office knitting sweaters and doing her kids’ arts and crafts homework. Watching her had honestly made me fear marriage and childbirth. Brenda waved her hands frantically. “I’m not tired at all! It’s the young kids who are tired from working all the time! Hahaha, I’ll go get the mop.” She practically sprinted out to find a bucket. Um… ma’am, I’m actually not tired at all, because I don’t do overtime. Greg watched her leave in utter confusion. When he caught me staring at him, he quickly adjusted his expression and snapped at me. “Young people need to have some initiative! You shouldn’t have to wait for management to tell you what to do! How did your parents even raise you?!” The moment those words left his mouth, the temperature in the office dropped to absolute zero. Brenda had just walked back in with a mop. Hearing that, she dropped the bucket in sheer terror and stammered, “Oh my god, Greg, you really shouldn’t say things like that.” Greg puffed out his chest. “I said what I said! So what? Dragons beget dragons, mice beget mice. In my opinion, her attitude is a direct reflection of her parents!” Seeing the sheer panic in Brenda’s eyes, I nodded in profound realization. “Greg, that makes perfect sense! No wonder you look like a giant rat!” … Greg was genuinely awful. He couldn’t beat me in an argument, so he resorted to sabotage. Later that day, he told me to take a report upstairs to Mr. Davis, a senior director. I actually needed to talk to Mr. Davis about something else anyway, so I grabbed the folder and headed to the elevators. On the way up, I bumped into Mr. Davis’s secretary. When she heard Greg sent me, her eyes went wide. “He sent you?” “Yeah, why?” The secretary leaned in and whispered frantically, “Mr. Davis is furious right now. Your department submitted a summary report that is completely botched. We have representatives from our sister companies visiting today, and Mr. Davis is going to rip whoever walks through that door to shreds.” I was stunned. “Which report?” She gave me a brief description, and I instantly knew what was happening. That shameless rat Greg. It was the garbage report he wrote himself while he was on his business trip. To prevent us from “stealing his credit,” he refused to let any of us review it and submitted it directly to the director. Haha. So when there’s glory, you hoard it. But when there’s a grenade, you throw me on top of it? I don’t think so. The secretary gave me a sympathetic look. “Go back down. Tell Greg you’re busy and make him bring it up himself. What’s he going to do, fire you?” A wicked idea formed in my head. I smiled brightly. “No way, I have to go. If I don’t, who’s going to speak up for our dear Greg?” 4 The moment I pushed the door open, a heavy folder came flying at my head, accompanied by a furious roar. “Look at the garbage you submitted!” Thankfully, I have good reflexes. I dodged it, and the folder smacked loudly against the wall. The secretary nervously picked it up and whispered, “Mr. Davis, it’s Riley Lawson.” Mr. Davis looked up. When he saw it was me, his tone instantly changed. He tried to quickly swap his furious scowl for a polite smile, but his facial muscles spasmed awkwardly in the process. “Oh, Riley! Uh, well… the proposal your department submitted has some, um, issues.” The visiting executives sitting on his couches drinking espresso looked at each other in confusion. They clearly didn’t understand why the ferocious Mr. Davis had suddenly turned into a polite golden retriever. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the visitors texting someone under the table: William Lawson. The other visitor saw the text and his eyes widened in sudden realization. I wanted to laugh so badly. Is this what it feels like to ride the CEO’s coattails? It’s incredible. Facing Mr. Davis’s strained, twisting smile, I spoke with the utmost sincerity. “Mr. Davis, no one else in our department has even seen this proposal. Greg wrote it entirely by himself during his business trip. We offered to proofread it for him, but he insisted on submitting it directly to you. So…” Mr. Davis, likely recalling the rumors of how I was being bullied in the lower ranks, understood the assignment immediately. He slammed his hand on his desk phone, hit the intercom, and bellowed, “Greg Patterson! Get your ass up here right now!” Greg scurried up. The moment he walked through the door, he tried to take control of the narrative. “Mr. Davis, please don’t be angry! The young hires in our department are so careless. I will discipline her the second we get back to our desks!” You son of a bitch. You walk into the room and immediately throw your auntie under the bus? I instantly put on my best ‘wronged victim’ face. “Greg… I haven’t even seen this report…” Greg yelled at me, “Riley, your work ethic is slipping! You didn’t even bother to review the departmental report, and you have the nerve to make excuses? Are you even earning your paycheck?” My dad pays your entire bloodline’s paycheck, buddy. The harder I cursed him in my head, the more pathetic and teary my face looked. “But Greg… you’re the primary author of this report…” Before he could react, I took two quick steps forward, grabbed the report from the secretary, and flipped it open on Mr. Davis’s desk. Right there on the third page, printed in bold, was Greg Patterson’s name. Note: Only Greg’s name. Greg panicked and opened his mouth to yell at me again. Mr. Davis slammed his hand on the desk. “Enough! Look where you are! You’re embarrassing us in front of our guests!” The visiting executives, who had been enjoying the drama while sipping their espresso, immediately straightened their ties and put on serious, professional faces. I could read their minds perfectly: What? Who doesn’t love workplace drama? Corporate life is a grind, let us enjoy the circus! Sweat poured down Greg’s forehead. “Mr. Davis, please let me explain…” Mr. Davis snatched the folder from my hand and shoved it hard against Greg’s chest. “The aggregated data is completely wrong! You didn’t even separate the incremental assets from the base inventory! You’re a department head, and this is the trash you produce? You’ve been coasting in your position for far too long!” That set the tone. It wasn’t just a critique of the report; it was a direct attack on Greg’s entire work ethic and job security. Fly high, Greg. Carry your own garbage. Greg’s face sagged. His voice went completely soft. “Mr. Davis, I apologize. I will rewrite it immediately.” Mr. Davis, still fuming, didn’t even look at him. “Get out!” Greg walked out looking like a beaten dog. I followed behind him, looking meek and submissive, while internally doing cartwheels. In the elevator, it was just the two of us. He dropped the pathetic act instantly and glared at me with venom. “Riley, you’re pretty ruthless, aren’t you? You think you’re so clever.” Is this guy brain-dead? I gave him a polite smile. “I’m not clever at all, Greg. After all, I didn’t write the report. You’re the truly clever one—trying to make a junior employee take the fall for your incompetence. A grown man like you, you should be proud.” Greg turned fully toward me, furious. “So what if I made you take the hit? Everyone goes through it! Young people need to be yelled at to build character and mental resilience!” Idiot. An absolute idiot. I replied softly, “I don’t know if getting yelled at builds character when you’re young. But looking at you, all those years of swallowing insults clearly just made you mentally unhinged.” My floor arrived. I stepped forward to leave. Just as the doors began to open, Greg violently mashed the ‘Close Door’ button and screamed, “Riley, shut your filthy mouth!” I pointed up at the security camera in the corner of the elevator. “Greg, language. We’re trying to foster a professional corporate environment here. Everyone has a role to play.” The doors slid open. A crowd of people was waiting for the elevator. They had clearly heard Greg screaming through the doors. Their expressions were a kaleidoscope of shock and gossip. I mentally reviewed my own dialogue. Perfect. I sounded like an upstanding, highly professional corporate citizen. Hehe. 5 Why had no one told Greg the rumor about me? I was genuinely puzzled. Was he really that universally hated? My best friend explained it to me over drinks. “Isn’t it obvious? Based on your stories, who would actually want to talk to him? Everyone hates him. They’re hoping he digs his own grave, offends the CEO’s daughter, and gets fired so they can get a normal manager.” I didn’t have the actual power to fire him, unfortunately. But Greg definitely wanted to fire me. A few days later, he somehow procured a biometric fingerprint time clock and announced that our department—and only our department—would be strictly clocking in and out. He claimed that the total hours tracked by the machine would be the sole basis for our end-of-year performance bonuses. Haha. Moron. HR hadn’t issued any such policy. What right did he have? But since I honestly didn’t care about a few hundred extra dollars in my bonus, I ignored him. The machine was obviously targeted at me, since I refused to do unpaid overtime. But Brenda was the first one to snap. Because she had to drop her two kids off at schools on opposite sides of the city, she was chronically five to ten minutes late every single day. Consequently, just a few days after the fingerprint scanner was installed, the power cord mysteriously snapped. Greg was furious. “Who did this?! Who broke it?!” Brenda casually filed her nails. “Probably chewed up by mice?” Greg exploded. “There are no mice in a Class-A corporate high-rise!” I smiled. “Rats get pretty bold during the day, so it makes sense they’d come out to grind their teeth at night.” Greg stared at me, opening his mouth, but surprisingly didn’t say anything. He just went back to inspecting the frayed cord. Sigh. He was so uncultured. He didn’t even understand I was calling him a rat. It’s lonely at the top. That afternoon, Jessica from HR invited me to lunch. Her department always had the best gossip, so I happily took my salad over to their table. To my surprise, the VP of Human Resources—a guy you rarely saw mingling with the plebs—walked over and sat at our table. Jessica immediately looked terrified and stopped chewing. I was completely chill. He wasn’t my boss. The VP asked me very warmly how I was adjusting to the company. Then he mentioned that the conglomerate was undergoing massive structural reforms, and asked if I had any “suggestions” regarding HR policies. He looked at me like a royal eunuch trying to divine the Emperor’s true intentions. Wow. So this is what it feels like to be part of the inner circle? Succession really nailed the corporate sycophant dynamic. If I didn’t use this opportunity to drop a metaphorical piano on Greg’s head, I’d be wasting my golden ticket. I pretended to think deeply, then spoke slowly. “I do have one curiosity… when did our company introduce fingerprint time clocks?” The VP immediately shot a sharp look at Jessica. “We did?” Jessica looked like she was about to cry. “No, sir! It’s just Riley’s department. Greg bought a machine himself and mandated it. Department heads do have a certain level of discretionary authority, so we didn’t feel we could intervene.” The VP poked at his salad with his fork, saying nothing. I smiled sweetly. “Discretionary authority is a wonderful thing! But you know… today he installs a time clock. Tomorrow, another manager installs their own system. If every department creates its own unique evaluation metrics, what do we even need an HR department for? The relevance of HR really starts to… plummet.” His fork stopped moving completely. I threw some more fuel on the fire. “We have a lot of VIP hires here. Daughters, sons, relatives of important people. If they all start getting written up by rogue time clocks, they won’t blame Greg. They’ll complain to their connections that HR is targeting them. You’ll be the one taking the fall, sir.” The VP might not care about the lives of entry-level employees, but he absolutely cared about his own turf. If HR’s relevance dropped, his personal power dropped. And if the nepo babies complained to the C-suite, he’d be the one getting fired. Corporate survival 101. Since Greg loved making me read Machiavelli and corporate strategy books to write his reports, I was putting that theory into practice. Using executive paranoia to crush middle management is like dropping a nuke on an anthill. Upon hearing this, the VP abandoned his lunch entirely. He threw his napkin down and said, “Riley, you make an excellent point. We are one unified company, and we must operate under one unified system. I am going to have a chat with Greg right now.” He marched off with righteous fury. I watched his retreating figure, then looked down at his plate. A perfectly cooked, untouched filet mignon. Corporate executives are crazy. They get so caught up in power struggles they forget to eat their steak? You could have at least given it to me! 6 Later that afternoon, a contract electrician came up to replace the cord on the time clock. Greg, already in a foul mood after getting chewed out by HR, snapped at the guy. “Stop working on it! Just leave it. Dammit.” His “dammit” was aimed at the VP of HR. They had gotten into a screaming match in the hallway that everyone heard. So, the poor electrician became his punching bag. But here was the problem: the building’s electricians were external contractors. In other words, Greg had zero authority over him. The electrician dropped his tool bag, his face hardening. “You called dispatch four times crying about this wire, and I skipped my lunch to come fix it for you. Who the hell are you cursing at? Watch your mouth.” If they had been alone, Greg probably would have apologized and backed down. But all of us junior employees were watching. Greg felt his fragile masculinity was at stake. “So what? What if I did curse? Fixing things is your job, isn’t it? I’m the client! I can say whatever I want!” Idiot. An absolute, colossal idiot. The electrician was a no-nonsense blue-collar guy. He didn’t say a word. He just picked up his heavy canvas tool bag and swung it directly at Greg’s face. Whack. Holy shit. Holy shit. Greg’s face turned into a bloody pulp instantly. A full-blown brawl erupted. Worried the electrician might get in trouble for defending himself, I quickly signaled the two guys in our office to step in and pull them apart. I grabbed a push broom, shoved myself between them, and started swinging wildly to “break up the fight.” Naturally, my wild swings were exclusively landing on Greg. I’m a very loyal person, and Greg was the enemy. The electrician was a guy who worked with his hands all day. He was infinitely stronger than Greg and was basically beating him like a rented mule. And Greg still had the nerve to yell, “Let me at him! Don’t hold me back!” Bro, if we weren’t holding him back, you would be dead on the carpet right now. Have some self-awareness. Hearing Greg’s taunts, the electrician broke free and lunged forward again. Greg panicked. He blindly grabbed a heavy glass paperweight from his desk to defend himself, but it slipped from his sweaty hands— Crash. It slammed directly into my shin. Motherfucker. My mom always warned me to stand back when watching a fight. She was so right. I clutched my leg and instantly began wailing, taking full advantage of the situation. Brenda screamed at the top of her lungs, “Stop fighting! Riley is hurt! Her leg!” The electrician, realizing I was the one who had secretly helped him hit Greg with the broom, immediately backed off and stood down. Greg was thrilled to have an excuse to stop getting beaten up. He scrambled over, trying to play the concerned boss. “Riley! Are you okay?” I unleashed a cry worthy of an Oscar. “It hurts so much! Greg, what is wrong with you today?! Why did you provoke the electrician, and why did you attack me?!” I had to establish his guilt on the record immediately so the electrician wouldn’t take the blame. Everyone in the office stared at Greg. He looked incredibly guilty. “I didn’t do it on purpose…” I drowned him out with a theatrical wail. “Call an ambulance! I think my leg is shattered!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “425832”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I asked my brother to buy me a pack of tampons. When his girlfriend found out, she immediately cursed me out in our family group chat. “How do you have the nerve to ask your brother to buy something as intimate as tampons? Don’t you know boundaries? You’re shameless! Are you so terrified of dying alone that you’re trying to seduce your own brother?” The next day, not only did she show up at our house to mark her territory, but she also tried to set me up on a blind date with an old creep. When we rejected him, she threw a tantrum and threatened to abort the baby in her belly. My parents just shrugged calmly. “We aren’t the Royal Family. We don’t have a throne to pass down. Do whatever you want!” 1 Aunt Flo arrived early, I had run out of tampons, and my cramps were killing me. I had no choice but to text my brother, Liam, who happened to be at the grocery store downstairs, to pick up a box for me. Who knew that half an hour later, Liam’s girlfriend, Emma, would send a barrage of explosive texts to our family group chat? [Do people have absolutely zero sense of boundaries nowadays? Asking your brother to buy something as intimate as tampons? You’re completely shameless!] [You’re almost thirty and you don’t even have a boyfriend. Are you trying to seduce your own brother because you can’t get a man?] [Even animals know not to mate with their own kin! If you’re that desperate and thirsty, I can introduce you to some guys.] [I haven’t even married into this family yet, and there’s already a pick-me trying to steal my boyfriend.] Staring at the wall of text attacking me, I was stunned. I admit, asking Liam—who had a girlfriend—to buy tampons might have been a slight oversight on my part, and I made a mental note to be more mindful. But if she minded that much, she could have just communicated it calmly. Was it really necessary to hurl abuse at me? After all, we hadn’t even met in person yet. We had only exchanged a few polite greetings two days ago when Liam added her to the family group chat. I hadn’t done anything to offend her. Why was she suddenly firing off like a loose cannon? Was there something wrong with her brain? And cursing at me was one thing, but accusing me of seducing Liam? That was crossing a massive line. I was adopted, so I shared no blood with Liam, but we had grown up together. Our bond was exactly like real siblings. How could her mind be so filthy? After thinking it over, I forwarded the screenshots to Liam. I hoped he would handle the situation appropriately. But Liam didn’t reply. Seeing my silence in the group chat, Emma probably thought I was scared. Feeling emboldened, she fired off a few more vicious insults. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I replied directly in the chat. [I suggest you go to the doctor and get tested for a stomach infection.] Emma replied instantly: [What is that supposed to mean?] [Because your breath stinks!] Furious, she immediately tagged Liam. [Look at your sister! I haven’t even walked through your door yet, and she’s already bullying me! They say a sister-in-law is just a second monster-in-law. They weren’t wrong!] I was typing out a scathing reply when Liam’s message finally popped up. 2 [Alright, both of you say a little less. It’s late, Mom and Dad are sleeping. Stop arguing in the chat.] Only then did Emma back down, and the group chat finally went quiet. A little while later, Liam came home. He handed me the tampons and explained what happened. Apparently, he had been on FaceTime with Emma while checking out. Eagle-eyed Emma spotted the tampons in his cart and immediately interrogated him. He explained they were for me, and without noticing the shift in her mood, he hung up to pay for his groceries. By the time he checked his phone again, we were already at each other’s throats. “Sis, I apologize on Emma’s behalf. Don’t take it to heart.” I took a deep breath, patted his shoulder, and gave him a subtle warning. “You might want to evaluate your girlfriend’s character a bit more closely.” Liam pushed his glasses up and quickly defended her. “Sis, Emma is actually a really sweet person. It’s just because she recently got pregnant. Her hormones are making her unstable and extra sensitive. That’s why she blurted out all that nonsense. Don’t hold it against her. I’m actually bringing her over tomorrow to meet Mom and Dad. Once you meet her, you’ll see.” Since Liam put it that way, I didn’t say anything else. My cramps were agonizing anyway, so I didn’t dwell on the drama. I washed up and went straight to sleep. I didn’t expect to be woken up the next morning by frantic, aggressive knocking on my door. I checked the time. It was barely 7:00 AM. Groggy, I opened the door and saw a girl in a tube top and a tight mini-skirt, standing with her arms crossed, glaring at me. “Who are you?” I asked, confused. The girl’s face instantly dropped. She rolled her eyes at me and barged straight into the living room. That’s when it clicked. This was Emma. Wow. Coming over as a guest and acting like this right off the bat? And Liam said she was a “sweet person”? I rolled my eyes, walked into the bathroom, and started brushing my teeth. Through the door, I overheard Emma complaining to Liam. “She knew I was visiting your family for the first time today, and she didn’t even wait at the door to greet me. She’s actually sleeping in? Is she a lazy pig?” Standing there with a mouth full of toothpaste, I really wanted to march out and slap her across the face. Wait at the door to greet her? Who did she think she was? The Queen of England? Did her arrival bring glory to our humble home? If that wasn’t enough, she called me a pig. Did she have zero social filter? But she didn’t seem to realize how rude she was being, and just kept running her mouth. “And your parents! They’re nowhere to be seen. It’s obvious your family doesn’t respect me at all.” “Who said that? It’s just because you came over so early!” Liam coaxed her while peeling a lychee for her. “And my sister wasn’t feeling well, so she slept in. As for my parents, they knew you were coming, so they woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the farmers market to buy fresh seafood for you. They just aren’t back yet.” Emma happily ate the fruit. By the time I changed my clothes and walked out, my parents had returned. Seeing Emma, they gave a simple, polite greeting and went straight to the kitchen to prep the food. I could tell their attitude was cold. They were early risers, which meant they had definitely seen Emma’s unhinged texts in the group chat from last night. They clearly didn’t have a good impression of her. But for Liam’s sake, they didn’t make it too obvious. I didn’t want to look at her either, so I headed toward the kitchen to help. Surprisingly, Emma grabbed my arm, acting incredibly sweet and affectionate. 3 “Sis, I noticed your bedroom is way bigger than Liam’s, and the interior design is totally my vibe. How about you give it to me starting today?” She smiled ingratiatingly, acting as if her cursing me out last night had never happened. But I wasn’t about to let it slide. Disgusted, I yanked my arm away and gave her a fake smile. “We only have three bedrooms. If I give mine to you, where am I supposed to sleep?” She casually pointed toward the storage room, speaking as if she were granting me a favor. “That room is a bit small, but if you clean it out, it’s perfectly livable. Besides, it won’t be an inconvenience for long. Once you finally get married, you’ll have to move out anyway.” Heh. She hadn’t even married into the family yet, and she was already acting like the lady of the house, barking orders and trying to evict me. Her audacity was off the charts. To avoid embarrassing Liam, I swallowed my anger and looked pointedly at him. If he had any sense, he would shut down Emma’s ridiculous demand himself. To my shock, even though he clearly heard her, he just kept his head down, peeling his lychee, not daring to utter a single word. Instead, it was my mom, who had just walked out carrying a plate, who pushed back with a polite smile. “The storage room can’t even fit a twin bed. How is anyone supposed to sleep there? Besides, when you and Liam get married, you’ll be sharing his room. Why would a married couple sleep in separate rooms?” Emma looked displeased. She pouted her lips. “Auntie, I’m pregnant! Liam tosses and turns in his sleep. I wanted separate rooms because I’m afraid he’ll hurt the baby.” “Well, that’s the house we have. Liam will just have to be more careful,” my mom said with a helpless shrug. Failing to get her way, Emma’s face darkened. She looked like she was fuming. I pressed my lips together, smiling silently. Nice try. Did you really think being pregnant gave you a free pass to act like a tyrant? You clearly didn’t know who you were dealing with. My mom definitely didn’t subscribe to the archaic “favor boys over girls” mentality. Just then, my cat smelled the food and darted out, accidentally brushing against Emma’s leg. She shrieked, dramatically jumping into Liam’s arms, and began bossing him around. “Why is there a cat in this house?! I’m terrified of those things. Liam, hurry up and throw it out!” She aggressively nudged Liam to take action. Liam stood there looking incredibly awkward. As he hesitated, the cat jumped into my arms. I stroked its fur and smiled at Emma. “Sorry about that. She’s mine.” Emma sneered in dissatisfaction. “Those things carry so many parasites. It’s incredibly dangerous for a pregnant woman. I don’t want to see it ever again. You need to send it away immediately.” Listen to her commanding tone. If I didn’t put her in her place, I was going to give myself an ulcer. “Then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. My cat is a member of this family. We value her very much, and we won’t be sending her anywhere.” Emma stamped her foot in a panic and yelled at my mom, “I’m carrying the eldest grandson of the Liam family! Do you value a cat more than you value me?!” Using her pregnancy to pressure my mom again. But my mom wasn’t buying it. 4 “If you truly feel Chloe’s cat is a risk to you, you and Liam can always move out and get your own place. Wouldn’t you prefer to enjoy some privacy as a couple anyway?” Digging a hole and almost burying herself in it, Emma completely panicked. She knew full well that our current house was located downtown and worth millions. She was terrified that if Liam moved out, the house would go entirely to me. Desperate, she shot a frantic look at Liam. Liam finally stepped up to smooth things over. “Mom, Emma is just joking with you! Please don’t take it seriously.” For Liam’s sake, my mom didn’t push the issue. Emma sensibly kept her mouth shut, but she started checking her phone obsessively, furiously typing away as if arguing with someone. A while later, my dad finished cooking. Just as we were about to sit down to eat, the doorbell rang. When we opened the door, we were greeted by a balding, greasy, middle-aged man with a massive beer belly. He looked to be about the same age as my dad. He was holding two gift boxes, smiling widely at us. We had no idea who this man was. While we stood there bewildered, Emma hurried over, beaming as she introduced him. “Uncle, Auntie, this is my cousin, Richard!” I finally understood why she had been checking her phone so aggressively. She was rushing her “cousin.” My parents assumed Richard was here as a family representative to check out Liam’s background. They warmly invited him to the table. But the second Richard sat down… Emma delivered a fatal blow. “Uncle, Auntie, Richard is the blind date I set up for Chloe.” I literally felt my soul leave my body. Was she out of her mind? Who brings a blind date for their future sister-in-law to the very first meet-the-parents dinner? We didn’t know anything about this. We didn’t even know this guy. If she wasn’t embarrassed, we were embarrassed for her. My parents’ faces darkened, but Emma remained completely oblivious to the shift in the room. She kept proudly hyping Richard up. “Uncle, Auntie, Richard has a Ph.D. Honestly, if he wasn’t divorced with a kid, a woman with Chloe’s older age and lower education wouldn’t even deserve him. “He only agreed to come today as a favor to me, his cousin. Otherwise, he has a long line of young girls chasing after him. He’d never usually settle for leftover goods like Chloe.” Elevating him while stomping all over me. If she wasn’t pregnant, I would have slapped her across the face twice. But what left me truly speechless was Richard himself. He proudly adjusted his glasses, looking me up and down with arrogant disdain, and chimed in. “Your age is definitely a bit on the high side, but your face and figure aren’t bad. I can make a compromise and we can try dating.” Barf. Does anyone understand how insane this is? A man twenty years older than me was acting like he was settling for me. Where did he get this unearned confidence? I fought the urge to flip the dining table, watching Emma excitedly fish for compliments from my parents. “Uncle, Auntie, see how capable I am? I solved two major unmarried-children problems for your family in one day! Since it’s convenient, we might as well use this dinner to discuss Chloe and Richard’s wedding plans too!” My dad didn’t say a word. He just gripped his chopsticks tightly, staring at Liam. He clearly wanted Liam to stop Emma’s manic episode and save her some face before things got ugly. But instead of appreciating the lifeline, Liam actually agreed with Emma. “I think Emma is right. We should strike while the iron is hot. After all, Chloe isn’t getting any younger.” Liam’s words chilled me to the bone. I had been holding back my temper this entire time purely to save his dignity. I didn’t expect him to be such a scumbag. Not only did he waste my good intentions, but he was actively enabling Emma’s delusions. Since they both wanted to act like clowns, fine. I had no choice but to go completely unhinged. 5 I slowly picked up a steak knife, dragging it back and forth across my empty plate. I pretended to look incredibly casual as I spoke. “Mr. Richard, your cousin is absolutely right. I don’t just lack education… I also have a mental illness.” The moment those words left my mouth, the smug satisfaction on Richard’s face morphed into panic. Trying to keep his composure, he asked, “What illness?” I let out a creepy, hollow laugh. It sounded genuinely deranged. Richard and Emma stared at me in horror. I twisted my body unnaturally, sliding my chair right next to Richard’s. I raised the steak knife and began waving it wildly, pointing it directly toward his crotch. “I don’t know why, but whenever I see a man’s junk, I just get this overwhelming urge to slice it right off.” As my voice dropped, I shook my head tragically, letting out a heartbroken sigh. “I guess my first love cheating on me really broke my psyche beyond repair!” That little performance nearly gave Richard a heart attack. He stared at me, trembling, and swallowed hard in absolute terror. “You… you’re not sick… I-I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you! I’m leaving!” Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, he leaped out of his chair, shot Emma a furious glare, and sprinted out the front door as fast as his legs could carry him. “Richard, wait! She’s lying!” Emma tried to call after him. My dad finally snapped. He roared at her, “Get out!” Emma froze, then pointed toward the door in confusion. “He already ran out.” My dad snatched the knife from my hand and pointed a shaking finger directly at Emma. “I mean YOU should get out! Act like a decent human being for once! Yesterday you cursed Chloe out in the group chat, and we let it go for Liam’s sake. Today, without our permission, you bring a freak into our home to set her up? What normal person does something like this?!” Emma flinched, then immediately burst into tears, playing the victim. “You’re calling me abnormal? Ha… I poured my heart into helping your family, and this is how you treat me.” As she cried, she suddenly let out a bitter sneer. “You have the nerve to despise my cousin? How is Chloe any better? If she keeps being so picky, even old men won’t want her anymore. Is she planning on staying home and leeching off you for the rest of her life?” My mom couldn’t take it anymore either. She slammed her hand on the table. “Even if she stays unmarried for the rest of her life, we’d gladly let her leech off us. What’s it to you?!” Emma looked shocked, which quickly turned into furious indignation. “Your money and property are supposed to go to me and Liam! What gives you the right to waste it on her? Did you ask for our permission? “Besides, if you spend all your money on her, what about the baby in my belly? Don’t forget, this is the eldest grandson of this family! If you don’t marry her off, I’ll abort the baby!” Emma threatened us triumphantly, assuming my parents would immediately cave for the sake of their grandchild. But she miscalculated drastically. My parents delivered a fatal blow. 6 “We aren’t the Royal Family. We don’t have a throne to pass down. Do whatever you want!” Emma stared at my parents in utter disbelief. It took her a long moment to snap out of it, and then she turned around and started hitting Liam. “Did you hear that?! That’s your parents’ attitude toward me! Just to protect their adopted daughter, they don’t even care if their own grandchild dies! Liam, do you see this clearly? To them, the three of us combined aren’t as important as an adopted kid.” Liam was already upset by my parents’ words, and with Emma throwing fuel on the fire, his anger reached its boiling point. “Mom, Dad, I truly didn’t expect you to be this biased. Don’t forget, I am your biological son.” Facing their seething accusations, I almost laughed out loud. His girlfriend showed zero respect for human life, using an unborn child as a bargaining chip to threaten his parents. And instead of correcting his toxic girlfriend, he was blaming my parents? What kind of twisted moral compass was that? “Liam, your brain is rotting from this relationship. Have you lost all sense of right and wrong? Apologize to Mom and Dad right now.” But Emma was even more frantic than Liam. She lunged forward and screamed at me. “Did Liam say anything that wasn’t a fact?! Why should he apologize? You’re just thick-skinned! You’re thirty years old and still living at home, trying to steal your brother’s house. Let me tell you right now, everything in this house belongs to us. If you know what’s good for you, pack your bags and get the hell out. Otherwise, when we get married, you’ll never be allowed to visit your family again.” Before I even had a chance to retort, my mom slapped Emma hard across the face. “Don’t even mention the fact that you aren’t married to Liam yet. Even if you were, you do not run this house. Who gave you the right to speak like that?!” “You dared to hit me?!” Emma clutched her burning cheek and raised her hand, ready to hit my mom back. My instincts kicked in. I grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, my face dark with warning. “Try touching my mom. See what happens.” Liam rushed forward and pulled her back, and only then did Emma fiercely rip her hand out of my grasp. My dad had reached his limit. He pointed at the door and roared, “Get out… our family does not welcome people like you.” Emma was so enraged she violently knocked over a dining chair, pointing her finger at us as she screamed. “You just wait! You want to play favorites, right? One day I’ll make you taste what it’s like to be treated this way!” With that, ignoring Liam’s attempts to calm her down, she stormed out. Having no other choice, Liam shot us a look of pure hatred and chased after her. My parents didn’t stop them. After all, Emma was pregnant. No matter how twisted her morals were, or how utterly lacking in manners she was, they couldn’t bring themselves to force Liam to break up with her. With all that chaos, no one had the appetite to eat. After comforting my parents, I started cleaning up the mess Emma had left behind. Not long after, I got a text from my boyfriend, Noah. [When does the ugly son-in-law finally get to meet the parents?] My mood instantly brightened. I subconsciously replied: [In a few days!] My grandma’s birthday was coming up in a few days. My family still didn’t know I had a boyfriend. Since the whole family would be gathered together, I figured I would just officially announce it then. It would finally stop my relatives from relentlessly trying to set me up on dates. Seeing that I had finally agreed, Noah was ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to take me out shopping to prepare gifts for my family. Unable to talk him out of it, I agreed. But I never expected that while we were out shopping, I would accidentally bump into Emma. She was walking arm-in-arm with a man. And that man wasn’t Liam. It was her “cousin.” The creepy older man she had set me up with.

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I was blacklisted by the entire internet for supposedly being the “other woman” in an A-list movie star’s relationship. The production crew of a dating reality show wanted to watch the world burn, so they invited me to join the show alongside the star and his girlfriend. I didn’t want to go, but they simply offered too much money. The whole world expected to watch me fail at seducing him. Instead, a silver Maserati MC20 roared into the frame. The driver, with a wicked smirk and a lazy drawl, said: “Honey, why did you leave for the set without waiting for me?” With that one sentence, the entire live stream crashed. 1 Because I was photographed looking “too close” with my co-star, Austin Hayes, I was labeled as the homewrecker destroying his relationship with his non-celebrity girlfriend. My fans tried to defend me, which only led to more accusations—claiming I was “bullying a commoner.” In the heat of the scandal, the producers of the reality show Catch the Spark decided to lean into the chaos. They invited me to be a guest. I wasn’t interested in the drama, but the paycheck they offered had too many zeros to ignore. Austin and his girlfriend, Lila Moore, were the “it” couple of the show. They had a massive following of “shippers.” That’s why everyone was so vicious toward me when the rumors broke. But this was a dating show. What was I supposed to do there? Be a mascot? The producers were vague. “Just show up,” they said. “We’ll handle the rest.” On the first day of filming, the moment I appeared on screen, the comment section exploded. Most of it was pure vitriol. —”WTF? Sienna actually showed up?” —”She has no shame. Dancing right in front of the real girlfriend.” —”Cancel the homewrecker!” The few fans brave enough to speak up were instantly buried under a mountain of hate. See? To destroy a female actress, all you have to do is whisper the word “mistress.” As I stood there lost in thought, a familiar black SUV pulled up. Austin and Lila stepped out. He carefully shielded her as she climbed down, as if she were a piece of fragile porcelain. The camera crew, clearly looking for a viral moment, cut between the two of them looking deeply in love and me standing alone on the corner like a pathetic loser. The comments peaked: —”The showdown! The showdown!” —”The mistress meets the wife. This is better than the Oscars.” —”Austin is so protective! Ugh, Sienna is such trash for trying to ruin this.” I couldn’t agree more. I also wanted to know what I was doing there. Lila was wearing a simple yellow sundress. She barely had any makeup on—just a bit of tint on her lips. She looked like the “girl next door,” pure and innocent. She looked at me as if she had never seen the tabloids. She smiled gently and reached out her hand. “Hi, you’re Sienna, right? I’m Lila.” As she reached out, a massive diamond—a total “rock”—flashed under the sun. Every woman loves diamonds. And damn, that thing was blinding. Lila seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly pulled her hand back, looking apologetic. She covered the ring with her other hand, a classic “I’m trying to hide it but I actually want you to see it” move. Message received: He’s mine. The comments caught it too. —”OMG! Was that an engagement ring?!” —”Did Austin propose? Is that a rock or a planet?!” —”LMAO, look at Sienna’s face. She looks so awkward.” —”Producers, get her off the screen. She’s an eyesore next to them.” Just then, a roar of an engine echoed from the distance. The camera panned away. A silver Maserati MC20 drifted into the shot. The driver rolled down the window just enough to show a hand with well-defined knuckles. His profile was sharp, a pair of dark aviators resting on a high bridge of a nose. Even the staff cleared a path. Lila looked over with curiosity. She had been on the show for several episodes, but she’d never seen a guest arrive with this much swagger. The butterfly doors swung upward. It was effortlessly cool. The driver stepped out, his long legs moving with a lazy grace. The world seemed to go silent. My heart beat in sync with his movements as he took off his sunglasses. The wind caught his dark hair. Even in a tailored suit, he had this air of untamed rebellion. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. A faint, wicked smirk touched his lips as his eyes locked onto me. The camera zoomed in on his face. The chat went dead for three seconds before a nuclear explosion of comments occurred. —”HOLY CRAP! Who is this guy?!” —”Does anyone know him? Is he a new model?” —”I’ve never seen him in Hollywood. Who is he?!” While the internet was losing its mind, the mystery man spoke. He looked straight at me, his voice low and honey-thick. “Honey, why did you leave for the set without waiting for me? You left me all alone in bed.” The internet broke. —”Did he… did he just say… HONEY?” —”Am I hallucinating?” —”Is he talking to… Sienna? No way. No freaking way.” He didn’t wait for the comments to catch up. He walked over, his long strides reaching me in seconds. Lila stood there with her mouth open, looking between the producers and this newcomer. She clearly hadn’t been briefed on this. Ignoring the cameras, the man buried his face in the crook of my neck. “I missed you, baby.” Me: ??? Internet: ??? —”My eyes are failing or my ears are lying!” —”Is this Sienna’s boyfriend?!” —”I need a background check! Now! Who is this man?!” 2 And just like that, Rowan became the new guest on the show. Watching us standing there with our fingers interlocked, the other guests had… complicated expressions. Rowan’s background was a fortress. If he didn’t want you to know, you could dig six feet under and still find nothing. He didn’t seem to want to reveal his full identity yet. When the director asked for an introduction, he just smirked. “Just your average trust-fund kid.” He held my hand so naturally, like we had been together for a lifetime. I looked down at our joined hands. Faded memories started to clear. I remembered many years ago… Rowan had said to me: “Sienna, I’m coming back for you. Even if you don’t wait for me, it doesn’t matter. I’ll find you.” He actually did it. After the intros, we headed to the rooms to unpack. In the stairwell, Rowan glanced at the cameraman. The poor guy was so intimidated he immediately turned his back to “film the wall.” Rowan wrapped an arm around my waist from behind, his chin resting on my head. “Baby, I was gone for a while. Did anyone bully you?” The cameraman turned the lens away, but he forgot to turn off the mic. That one husky, protective sentence sent the live stream into another meltdown. —”CAMERAMAN! I order you to turn around right now!” —”His voice is so hot! The protectiveness!” —”Is this what it feels like to be a VIP member? I want more!” Tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to turn around and tell him how much I missed him, and how much the internet had hurt me. But I held it in. I’d tell him after the cameras were off. I wasn’t giving the haters the satisfaction of seeing my private heart. Rowan carried my luggage up. Before we could even settle, the producers sent an envelope with our first task. “Guests, please settle your luggage. Gentlemen, please assemble in the lobby. Ladies, please wait in your rooms.” Rowan kissed my forehead. “Be right back.” —”Help, why do I think they’re the perfect match?” —”They have so much chemistry. This can’t be scripted.” —”Don’t be naive. Sienna probably hired an actor to wash off the mistress labels.” 3 The lobby was filled with racks of women’s clothing. The host explained: “Tonight, we are hosting a gala. The men must choose a complete outfit for their partners. The ladies will wear whatever you pick.” The comments were already laughing. —”LMAO, I’m so curious about Austin’s taste.” —”I’ve been married for ten years and I still don’t let my husband buy me socks.” The racks were overwhelming. Arthur, an older actor, went straight for a classic, modest emerald gown for his wife. It was safe and dignified. Austin and a younger idol named Jax were struggling. Austin walked around with a frown, especially when he saw the more “daring” designer dresses. —”Hahaha, Austin looks like a grumpy dad at a mall.” —”He looks offended by every sequin!” Finally, Austin went to the casual section. He picked a thick, white cable-knit sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. He paired them with… sneakers. The chat lost it: —”The logic is there, but why did he pick the one with a cartoon sheep on it? It’s so ugly!” —”Lila is an adult woman. Why the sheep sweater?!” —”It’s a gala! Why did he pick casual clothes?” In the interview booth, Austin looked into the camera. “It’s fall now. It’ll be cold tonight. I want Lila to be warm and modest. Those other dresses are too revealing. Lila looks best when she’s covered up.” —”Ugh, typical controlling boyfriend vibes.” —”He’s literally that guy who gets mad if you show an inch of skin.” —”Is Lila actually going to wear a sheep sweater to a gala?” —”Look! Rowan is picking. I wonder what the ‘average trust-fund kid’ chooses.” Rowan walked past the racks everyone else was ignoring—the high-fashion, bold silhouettes. He pulled three dresses and studied them seriously, as if he were analyzing a stock market crash. Finally, he chose a white strapless piece. It was architectural and sharp, with a thigh-high slit and a trail of star-like diamonds at the hem. He even picked out the perfect stilettos. The chat went silent, then roared: —”Taste. Absolute taste.” —”I saw that dress on a runway last month. It’s gorgeous but so hard to pull off.” The director asked him: “Why this dress? The other men went for ‘safe’ designs.” Rowan looked at the camera, his eyes brightening. “Because Sienna will look like a goddess in this.” “She loves to be beautiful, so I want to give her the best. It’s a party. I want her to shine. My job is just to protect her while she burns the room down.” The chat shifted. While the other men chose based on their comfort—making sure their women weren’t “too exposed”—Rowan chose based on what I would love. He smirked at the lens. “I have to pick the best. If she doesn’t look stunning, she won’t be happy. And I hate it when she’s not happy.” —”I officially ship them! To hell with the haters!” 4 I was thrilled with the dress. Rowan knew me too well. But when I stepped out of the dressing room, Rowan didn’t look happy. He was sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. “Sienna, doesn’t your agency handle this crap?” He was looking at the leaked “intimate” photos of me and Austin. I walked over and flipped his phone face down. “Don’t look at that. Look at me. Do I look good?” Rowan looked up and his expression softened instantly. “I knew you’d be breathtaking.” He pulled me into his lap, burying his face in my waist. His voice was muffled. “I just hate that they talk about you like that.” “Sienna, you’re the best person I know.” 5 I expected the other men’s choices to be bad, but I didn’t realize they’d be this bad. Lila was wearing the sheep sweater—which was at least two sizes too big—and jeans that swallowed her legs. She looked like a middle-schooler at a pajama party. Jax’s girlfriend, Chloe, a high-fashion model, was forced into a strawberry-print sundress. It looked ridiculous. I stood at the door, almost afraid to walk in. Lila looked like she was on the verge of tears. I felt bad for her—Austin really had zero sense of style. When I walked in, the chat went from “LMAO” to “HOLY SH—.” —”Goddess. Absolute goddess.” —”Rowan is a visionary. This outfit is legendary.” —”My eyes are being blessed.” The host announced: “Gentlemen, please invite your partners to the dance floor.” The lights dimmed. Rowan bowed slightly, extending his hand. “Sienna, may I have this dance?” The Rowan in front of me overlapped with the teenage boy in my memory who had asked for my first dance with that same fiery gaze. I nodded and slid into his arms. The other couples looked miserable in their outfits, and Lila eventually excused herself, claiming she didn’t feel well. The world narrowed down to just Rowan and me. He spun me around, our noses almost touching. —”KISS HER! KISS HER! I’M BEGGING YOU!” As if hearing the internet’s prayer, he tilted his head and kissed me deeply. —”AHAHHAHAA! MY SHIP IS SAILING!” —”Kill me now, this is too sweet.” Suddenly, a new hashtag exploded on Twitter: #SiennaSugarDaddy A tabloid leaked photos of me from a few years ago. I was leaning affectionately against a middle-aged man in a suit. Internet sleuths quickly identified him: The Chairman of the Sterling Group, one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country. —”God, are these real?” —”So she does have a benefactor.” —”No wonder she got that lead role last year. She’s been a kept woman this whole time.” —”Mistress habits die hard. First a billionaire, now a movie star.” The staff signaled for me to go backstage. The comments were turning toxic again. Rowan was called away too. He looked furious. When I saw the photo, I… blanked out for a second. Rowan walked in, saw the photo, and his brow instantly relaxed. I had thought it was a deepfake or a clever angle. But the photo was real. I even had the original on my phone. The man in the photo was the Chairman of Sterling Group. His name is Robert Sterling. Rowan’s father. My uncle-in-law. The photo was cropped. In the original, Rowan was sitting right on the other side of me. We were at Robert’s birthday party. Rowan looked at the screen, his face cold. He grabbed his phone and called his PR department. “Give me the login for the official Sterling Group Instagram.” He logged in and posted the full, uncropped photo with a caption: “Family dinner.” The reversal was the fastest in the history of internet scandals. —”Wait, what? That’s Rowan’s DAD?!” —”I’m dying. Tabloids tried to frame a girl for dating her own father-in-law.” —”Wait… Rowan’s dad is the Chairman? So Rowan is…” Rowan’s true identity was out. —”ROWAN IS THE STERLING HEIR?!” —”He said he was an ‘average trust-fund kid.’ Dude is literally royalty.” —”Who could ‘hire’ a Sterling to play a boyfriend? This is real love.” —”I’m eating my words. They taste like crow, but they’re delicious.” Rowan didn’t care about the show anymore. He sat in the staff area and registered his own personal account. His first post: “Hi everyone, I’m Rowan Sterling. Sienna and I have been together for years. I joined this show to surprise her, not realizing she was being bullied by fake rumors. Whether it was the photos with Austin or my father, it’s all absurd. We will be taking legal action against every account that defamed her.” The internet crashed. Again. #RowanSterlingHeir #SiennaAndRowan #TheSterlingProtector The other guests looked at us with entirely different eyes now. 6 Back in the bedroom that night, I looked at Rowan. “Rowan, now that everyone knows… should I quit acting?” I knew he didn’t care, but the “Old Money” world usually looked down on Hollywood. My own father had threatened to disown me when I started. (I didn’t care, I was already the black sheep.) “Sienna,” Rowan said, his voice serious. “I have enough power now to make sure you never have to worry about what ‘they’ think. You shine on screen. I watch every one of your movies on repeat. I’ll back your career until the day you decide you’re done. I love you, and I love the version of you that follows her dreams.” My eyes watered. No one had ever chosen me this firmly. I grew up in a wealthy family, too, but compared to the Sterlings, we were new money. My parents were obsessed with the “right” image. After my mom passed away, my dad remarried and had a new “perfect” family. I was the leftover child. Then I met Rowan. He was the high school rebel. The guy who treated the school rules like a suggestion. Everyone was terrified of him, or obsessed with him. I thought he was just another bored rich kid. But he chased me for a year and a half. He took me to movies, watched me play volleyball, taught me how to ride a horse, and made me laugh until I forgot I was the “unwanted” daughter. The day of his father’s birthday, he took me to meet his whole family. He announced to the room: “This is my girlfriend, Sienna. Isn’t she beautiful? You guys are all jealous, I know.” His family was actually lovely. Later, I found out the “deal” he made with his dad to let us be together was that he had to go abroad to study business and prove he could run the company. “Sienna, wait for me,” he had said. “And if you don’t, it’s okay. I’ll still find you.” I waited. Shortly after he left, an Oscar-winning director found me. He said my mom had helped him years ago, and he wanted to pay it back. He offered me a lead role. I became a star overnight. I never went back to my father’s house. For years, we were a world apart. Sometimes I’d be filming until 3 AM, just as he was waking up. We lived in the gaps of our time zones. I missed him so much it hurt. 7 Now he was right here. Rowan pulled me into his arms. “Go to sleep, baby.” “We’re never being apart again,” I whispered. “Never.” 8 The next morning, the director—ever the opportunist—changed the rules of the show to capitalize on our fame. We were sent to a remote countryside village to live in “farmhouses.” Rowan and I were the first to arrive. We picked a small cottage by a stream. The owners were an elderly couple who treated us with amazing warmth. The comments were peaceful for once: —”I’m just here to watch the nepo-heir experience a farm.” —”He looks so confused by the chickens.” We were tasked with feeding the chickens. Rowan looked at the birds like they were a new species of alien. He crouched down, staring at a particularly scruffy chicken with a bald tail. He pulled out his phone and opened a “Pet Translator” app. He spoke into the phone: “Hey, scruffy. What happened to your tail?” The phone translated: “Cluck cluck cluck!” (Translation: None of your business!) I stared at him. “Why do you have that app? Does it actually work?” The chicken tilted its head and let out a sharp cry. Translator app: “Eat my dust, human.” The chat exploded: —”LMAO! Rowan is a comedy genius!” —”The chicken really said ‘None of your business!’” The old couple asked me if Rowan liked the chicken. I hesitated. “I think so…” The chat: —”I have a bad feeling about this. Look at the grandma’s face.” —”They’re gonna cook the chicken, aren’t they?” Sure enough, for lunch, the scruffy chicken was served on a platter. Rowan looked like he was about to cry. He took a photo of the dish and whispered, “Rest in peace, buddy.” Then he took a bite. “Damn… he’s delicious.” The chat: —”RIP Scruffy. You were tasty.” —”Rowan is so chaotic, I love it.”

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My best friend wouldn’t stop nagging me, listing out every pathetic, desperate thing I had done while chasing Tristan Vance. “You gave him your entire heart,” she said, exasperated. “And he treated you like a piece of furniture.” Finally, she sighed, poking me hard in the forehead. “Please tell me you’re done running after him like a lost puppy!” I hesitated for a moment, genuinely confused, and asked, “Who is Tristan Vance?” 1 The moment the words left my mouth, the hospital door creaked open. A man in a crisp white button-down and tailored trousers stood in the doorway. He had a lean, sharp build. With his fine features and gold-rimmed glasses, he radiated an aloof, old-money elegance. My best friend, Harper, let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Mr. Vance! You actually found the time to visit?” She then shifted her gaze to the woman trailing right behind him. “Oh, and Miss Blake is here too? Makes sense. Our Stella almost died saving Tristan, which means she practically saved you too, Serena. You definitely owe her a ‘thank you’, don’t you think?” Harper sneered. “Your timing is impeccable. If you came any later, Stella might have already been discharged.” Amidst the verbal crossfire, I turned my attention to this “Miss Blake.” She was wearing a blush-pink skirt suit, her chestnut hair half-pinned up in a chic, elegant style. Even after hearing Harper’s heavily veiled sarcasm, her expression didn’t change. She spoke in a soft, gentle voice. “I came specifically to thank Stella. I heard she’s being discharged? Her injuries must not be too serious, then.” 2 According to Harper, I ended up in the hospital because I was trying to protect Serena. Well, more accurately: the moment the massive billboard collapsed on the commercial set, Tristan rushed to shield his childhood sweetheart, Serena. And I, like an idiot, rushed to shield my boyfriend, Tristan. The result? The golden couple stared lovingly into each other’s eyes, perfectly safe and unharmed. Meanwhile, the collateral damage—me—got exactly what I asked for: a trip to the ER. Serena stepped past Harper and stood by my bed, her voice soothing. “Stella, we’ve investigated the incident. We’ve confirmed the fault lies with the brand’s production team, and Tristan has already dispatched our lawyers to hold them accountable.” She gently slid a settlement agreement onto my lap table. “Anyway, it’s not a huge deal. Tristan and I both agree it’s best if you just sign this liability waiver for now. Once this blows over, we’ll make sure you’re compensated. “Besides, to be completely honest… if you hadn’t suddenly thrown yourself at him, things probably wouldn’t have gotten this messy.” Tristan and I. She said it so naturally, instantly drawing a thick line in the sand between “them” and “me.” Looking at the two strangers in front of me, my heart gave an involuntary, painful squeeze. I frowned, finding my own physical reaction completely baffling. Seeing my silence, Serena casually pushed the waiver closer, looking utterly confident that I would sign it on command. “Tristan and I have to catch a flight for a business trip, so we won’t disturb your rest.” Tristan stood off to the side, his handsome face completely unreadable. He offered a single, cold sentence: “Get some rest. Stop causing unnecessary drama.” And just like that, he turned and left with Serena. 3 The second they were out the door, Harper absolutely exploded. “Stella Monroe, are you a complete doormat?! That woman practically wiped her shoes on your face, and you just sat there?!” I stayed silent for a moment. “Look, I really want to be mad with you, but I literally have no idea who those people are…” Harper sucked in a sharp breath. It finally dawned on her that when I asked Who is Tristan Vance?, it wasn’t a dramatic expression of a broken heart. I, Stella Monroe, had been hit in the head so hard I literally got amnesia. 4 After the doctor confirmed my diagnosis, Harper practically wept tears of joy. “Getting hit in the head was the best thing that ever happened to you.” A giant question mark materialized above my head. “?” Harper looked at me with deep sincerity. “While you still have a functioning, rational brain, let me give you a piece of advice: stay the hell away from Tristan Vance.” Then, she filled me in on the messy, dramatic love triangle between me, Tristan, and Serena. “Serena is Tristan’s childhood sweetheart. Unfortunately for them, her family went bankrupt during their sophomore year of college, and her dad shipped her off to Europe.” Meanwhile, I had just started my freshman year. I spent four entire years chasing Tristan before I finally managed to thaw the campus ice prince. It was the peak of the tech startup boom, and Tristan and I decided to build a company together. I was always by his side—networking, pitching to investors, working the room. We spun like tops, working ourselves to the bone. We went from drinking with clients until we ended up in urgent care, to finally sitting at the head of the boardroom table, having people respectfully call us Mr. Vance and Ms. Monroe. Back then, we were the power couple of the industry. The year our company went public, Tristan had planned to propose to me. But that was the exact same year Serena returned to the States. 5 The moment she came back, she effortlessly took everything that was mine. The company I had built from the ground up, bleeding and sweating alongside Tristan for years? Serena just frowned, sighed, and said she “couldn’t find a reason to stay in the country.” With that single sentence, she wiped out years of my hard work and successfully ousted me, stepping in as the new Brand Director. And me? One of the original founders? I was demoted to a mid-level manager handling logistics. Hearing this backstory felt like listening to a stranger’s life. Not a single ripple of emotion stirred in my chest. Harper watched my calm face cautiously. “Stella… how are you feeling right now?” I thought about it for a second, then said firmly, “He’s human garbage. To hell with him.” 6 The next time I saw Tristan was the day of my discharge. Dressed in a charcoal-gray suit, he was holding a generic fruit and floral basket. His long, elegant fingers looked like they belonged in a magazine. He was conventionally gorgeous, exuding an effortless, old-money aura. Serena trailed behind him like a delicate little bird, smiling. “I told Tristan you were getting discharged today. We didn’t want to show up empty-handed, so we specifically picked out this basket.” Her eyes immediately darted to my bedside table. It was empty. Her face tightened. “Stella, what’s going on? It’s been days, and you still haven’t signed the liability waiver? “Do you have any idea how much pressure the corporate sponsors are putting on us? Are you dragging this out just to throw a tantrum? “You’re being completely unreasonable and unprofessional.” 7 I completely ignored Serena’s interrogating tone. I turned to look at Tristan. “Tristan Vance?” He looked down at me, a hint of impatience in his voice. “What is it now?” I nodded. As long as he was the right guy. “Let’s break up.” He froze. Harper had just walked in from the hallway and heard exactly that. Her face lit up with pure, unadulterated triumph. She strutted to my side and tapped her temple. “Mr. Vance, our Stella…” She was about to say my brain was finally working. Tristan snapped out of his daze, his brow furrowing. “Is there something wrong with your head?” 8 Harper’s face turned beet red with anger. She slammed my medical chart right into his chest. Reading the diagnosis on the paper, Serena couldn’t hide her shock. She looked me up and down, then gently tugged on Tristan’s sleeve. “Tristan, maybe we should go talk to the doctor. Let’s see what exactly is wrong with her.” Tristan’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he gave a slight nod. He turned and walked out with Serena. The hospital door clicked shut. Through the thin walls, Serena’s soft, calculating voice drifted in. “Amnesia? Really? “How come she remembers everyone else, but conveniently forgot only you? “Even if she forgot everyone, knowing Stella’s personality, she should still remember you. “Of course, I’m not saying she’s faking it… but you were about to break up with her. Maybe she’s just using this as a new tactic to make you stay…” A moment later, Tristan’s calm, arrogant voice filtered through the crack in the door. “Yeah. She could never forget me.” 9 Serena kept going. “I know you’re worried about her, but if she’s using tricks like this to manipulate you now, what extreme things will she do next?” She urged him to leave. “It’s just a girl throwing a temper tantrum. Tristan, you have a company to run. Let me stay and talk some sense into her.” Tristan remained silent for a second, then said coldly, “Handle it.” Her blatant manipulation oozed through the door. Harper was practically breathing fire. I didn’t care at all. I seized the moment to ask the only question that actually mattered. “Hey, you said the company Tristan and I founded went public. I’m a shareholder, right? So I should be getting a massive annual dividend?” Harper scoffed. “Obviously. “If your company wasn’t pulling in insane revenue, do you think Serena would have dropped her ‘holier-than-thou’ act and practically begged to join the executive team?” Harper looked at me proudly. “What is it? Have you finally come to your senses? Are you going to use your board power to kick her out and take your throne back?! “I’ve been telling you to do that for years—” I cut her off, waving a dismissive hand. “If I’m already rich, why would I fight her for a stressful Brand Director job? “She wants to work overtime to make me money? Sounds like a great deal to me.” 10 When Serena walked back into the room, Tristan was gone. “Stella, Tristan is incredibly busy right now. If it isn’t an absolute emergency, please stop bothering him.” Her gentle tone masked a thick layer of arrogance. “I know you two are technically dating, but given his status and position now, your lack of tact is putting him in a very difficult spot.” I smiled agreeably. “Don’t worry, Ms. Blake. I definitely won’t hold him back. “After all, I co-founded the company with him. I want him to succeed more than anyone. Why would I cause trouble for my own cash cow?” I was thrilled he was out there grinding to boost my stock portfolio. Serena’s face stiffened. She forced a smile and slid a freshly printed document onto my tray. “I’m glad you see it that way. In that case, sign this liability waiver.” I smiled. “Yeah, I can’t sign that.” Serena gave me a look that screamed I knew it. “You’re causing all this drama just to force me out of the Brand Department. But it’s not going to work.” I cut her off. “Harper told me the contracting company that built that set was recommended by you. “A massive structural failure happened under your watch, and you think you can just sweep it under the rug with a piece of paper?” 11 I might have amnesia, but I wasn’t stupid. While I was in the hospital, I took the time to read through the case files. Serena’s frantic desperation to get my signature meant this accident was directly tied to her. “Who was contracted to build that massive set? I heard your family fell on hard times. Landing a massive corporate contract like that… your little brother must have been thrilled, right?” Serena’s face turned ugly. I ignored her and kept going. “A multi-million dollar project, completely botched. You must be having a really hard time explaining this to the board and the sponsors. “If you can get me to sign this waiver, you can hand it over to the corporate clients as a neat little peace offering. Problem solved, everyone is happy… except me, the sacrificial lamb. “But tell me, Serena,” I looked at her, genuinely perplexed. “Why on earth would I do that for you? “Do you honestly think you hold any weight with me?” 12 Serena took a deep breath. “Stella, I have no idea what you’re talking about. It was just a freak accident. Whether you sign it or not, I have my ways of handling it. “But Tristan is ready to dump you. You’d better start thinking about your own future. “You can’t rely on his lingering pity to leech off him forever.” She turned to leave, tossing one last quiet insult over her shoulder. “He doesn’t love you anymore. Forcing yourself on a man who doesn’t want you is just pathetic.” 13 I couldn’t care less. I unlocked my phone. Besides work group chats, my messages were completely peaceful. Pinned at the very top was Tristan. I tapped on his profile. The chat history was entirely me, pre-amnesia, acting like a desperate simp. Paragraphs of checking in on him, bringing him lunch, asking about his day. And scattered sparsely in between were his cold, one-word replies. [Yeah.] [Got it.] [Fine.] It read exactly like an employee texting a hostile boss. Harper walked me to the elevator, giving me strict instructions. “Be careful. Call me immediately if you can’t remember something.” I laughed and promised I would. The building concierge helped me scan my fob and took me up. Using my fingerprint to unlock the door, I stepped inside and looked out at the stunning, panoramic city view. My mood was fantastic. Beep. The smart lock chimed again. Tristan had come home. He was wearing a gray wool overcoat, looking like a strict, repressed academic. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his sharp eyes carried a trace of exhaustion. Seeing me, he paused. “You’re fully recovered?” His gaze was freezing, looking at me like I was a clown performing a terrible magic trick. “If you have amnesia, how did you know how to get home?” 14 I replied politely, “Mr. Vance, I have amnesia, I didn’t lose half my brain cells.” “Drop the childish games.” His eyes flared with annoyance. “Since you’re better, get back to the office tomorrow. “You’re already severely lacking in competence. With you gone these past few days, Serena has had to do all your work on top of hers.” He rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with tired frustration. “I’ve told you a million times, Serena and I grew up together. I view her as family. Why do you insist on making her life so difficult?” I nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I really shouldn’t be making her life difficult.” I didn’t care about their childhood romance. All I cared about was that she kept generating revenue for my shares. Tristan froze, clearly not expecting me to agree. “Are you finished, Mr. Vance? If so, please leave.” Harper had told me that in my peak simp era, I had bought this luxury condo to be our future marital home. As he brushed past me, Tristan suddenly grabbed my arm. His brow furrowed, his handsome face hiding a dark irritation. “What kind of reverse psychology is this now?” 15 Silence hung in the air for a second. Then, Tristan dropped my arm like it was trash. “Forget it. You always pull these stunts. Is this your new strategy to get my attention? “Don’t forget to show up to work tomorrow.” With that, he left without a shred of hesitation. Before going to bed, I scrolled through Instagram to familiarize myself with my old life. The first thing that popped up was a new photo. It was Serena, smiling sweetly, leaning her head on Tristan’s shoulder. They looked like the perfect power couple. The comments were flooded with: [Goals!] [You guys are so cute together!] [When’s the wedding?!] I dropped a comment below: [Office romances are cute, but please don’t let it affect your productivity.] Do not mess with my dividends. Three seconds later, Tristan replied to my comment. [Are you insane?] 16 The next day, the second I sat at my desk, I saw a mountain of files piled high. The guy sitting at the next desk spun his chair around and barked orders at me. “Stella, handle these. And don’t forget you need to go on-site this afternoon to oversee the brand promo setup.” He scoffed, full of disdain. “You got a tiny scratch and acted like the sky was falling. Do you know how many days you’ve been out? If everyone took time off like you, this company would collapse.” A guy in thick black glasses chimed in with a sneer. “She’s a nepo-baby, what do you expect? Manager Higgins, you better watch your mouth around her. “Taking off over a little scratch, leaving Director Blake to clean up her mess and apologize to the sponsors…” Wow. Serena had some loyal lapdogs. Harper was right. My old brain really was broken to put up with this. I was a founding equity partner, yet I was sitting here doing grunt work for free, letting middle management talk down to me? I beamed a bright smile at them. “A tiny scratch? How about I drop a steel beam on your head and we see how you feel? “And with gossiping little men like you running around, the company’s already collapsing.” The guy in glasses turned bright red, then pale. Serena materialized out of nowhere. “Stella, you just got back. Why are you picking fights with your coworkers?” She stepped in to play the peacemaker, putting on the act of a benevolent leader protecting her team. “You were gone for days. Their workload doubled. Isn’t it normal for them to be a little frustrated? “We all work for the same company. Why are you being so petty?” Oh, so when they insult me, she watches the show, but when I insult them, I’m being petty? I clapped my hands slowly. “Bravo, Director Blake. You’re so kind and generous. It’s just a shame about your hearing. You didn’t hear a single insult they threw at me, did you? “Since you love playing the martyr with other people’s dignity, should I commission a statue in your honor?” Serena’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to publicly humiliate her like this. “Are you targeting Serena again?” I turned around. Tristan was standing there, looking down at me with an icy glare. He was just as deaf and blind as she was, only seeing what he wanted to see. With Tristan backing her up, Serena instantly grew a spine. She smiled gently, looping her arm through his. “It’s fine. Don’t blame Stella. I’m used to it.” Tristan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Is this company your personal playground to throw tantrums?” Before I could answer, he ordered, “My office. Now.” 17 The moment the door closed, Tristan started tearing into me. “Why won’t you sign the waiver? Do you have any idea how much money the company will lose because of your petty stubbornness? “Stella, I thought you at least knew how to look at the big picture.” His tone was heavy with disappointment. “The old you knew exactly what was appropriate and what wasn’t.” I nodded in sudden realization. “In other words, you got too comfortable treating me like a doormat, and now you feel entitled to it?” I tossed the dossier I had compiled last night onto his desk. “The contractor who built that promo set entirely ignored our safety regulations and blueprints. That’s why it collapsed. “In other words, they cut corners. It wasn’t an ‘accident.’” The air in the room shifted. Tristan frowned, glancing down at the papers. I looked at Serena. “This project was overseen by Director Blake. She should bear at least ninety percent of the liability. Furthermore, it appears the contractor is actually Director Blake’s younger brother?” Tristan’s head snapped up. He stared hard at Serena. Serena bit her lip, her voice trembling. “Stella, I know you’re angry that I took your Director position, but you shouldn’t stoop this low. “Corporate bidding has strict protocols. I’m just a mid-level director, I don’t have the power to rig a bid.” Serena was utterly incompetent, but she was a master at using Tristan’s name to bully the procurement department into doing her bidding. I didn’t have the time or energy to fight her on this. A faint smile touched my lips. “I’m thrilled you’re working for me, Director Blake. Why would I frame you? “I don’t dislike you because you’re malicious. I dislike you because you’re talentless, yet you insist on acting like you run the place. “You’re in way over your head.” 18 All the color drained from Serena’s face. She furrowed her brow, and her two loyal lapdogs immediately jumped in to defend her. Serena’s assistant barked at me, “Just because you’re the CEO’s girlfriend doesn’t mean you can throw your weight around and make up lies! Everyone knows how hard Director Blake works! “You might be dating Mr. Vance, but does anyone in this company actually respect you? “If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut and be grateful I get to ride his coattails, instead of making a fool of myself.” I stood there calmly. The mocking, scornful eyes of the office staff were fixed on me. Whispers hissed through the bullpen. Through the glass walls of his private office, Tristan stood silently, just watching the circus unfold. It was hilarious. “I compiled all the evidence in that file. You didn’t even look at it before accusing me of abusing my power. “I am Tristan’s ex-girlfriend, yes. But more importantly, I am a founding equity partner of this company. “If I truly abused my power, you would have been fired an hour ago, and you wouldn’t be standing here running your mouth.” I stood up, my voice turning to ice. “I officially resign from my position as Operations Director.” Tristan jolted, staring at me in shock. I thought he was going to threaten my severance package. Instead, his lips parted slightly. “Ex-girlfriend? What are you talking about?” I looked him dead in the eyes, enunciating every word. “Before I left the hospital, I told you we were broken up, Mr. Vance.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “425829”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After the accident, the doctors insisted I had amnesia. But I remembered everyone who came to visit me. Well, almost everyone. I remembered everyone except the Hollywood A-lister, Carter Hayes—the very star I had bankrolled into fame. So, I pulled all my funding and investments from his projects. I even started publicly shipping him with his on-screen romance. The internet cheered, congratulating Carter for finally escaping the clutches of the “spoiled East Coast heiress.” But in a corner where no one could see… He was begging me, “Sienna, can’t you just try to remember how it felt to love me? I swear I’ll do better this time.” 1 After the car crash, the doctors were absolutely certain I had amnesia. Yet, every single person who came to visit me, I recognized perfectly. The doctor was a top-tier neurologist, one of the best in the country. Faced with my skepticism, he remained steadfast. “Ms. Sterling, I assure you, you are definitely missing a piece of your memory.” I sat in my hospital bed, hugging my laptop, complaining to my best friend, Chloe, and my childhood friend, Liam. “This doctor is just trying to cover his bases. I’ve seen everyone I’m supposed to care about these past few days. If there was someone so important missing, wouldn’t you guys know who it is?” Chloe fell silent and exchanged a long look with Liam. Liam seemed lost in thought for a second before a slow, amused smile spread across his face. “Exactly,” Liam said. “If you remember everyone you’re supposed to, what kind of amnesia is that?” We all agreed. It was time for me to check out of the hospital. 2 Today was discharge day. Suddenly, an uninvited guest burst into my VIP suite. He looked travel-worn, his handsome face etched with exhaustion, like he had been flying across the country just to get here. Seeing me in my hospital gown, he froze in the doorway, his expression darkening. “Sienna, I’m late.” “I didn’t know this time… it was real.” “I’m sorry.” The guy’s sorrow seemed so genuine, and that broken, brooding look elevated his already incredible face to another level. He was exactly my type. Blinded by his good looks for a moment, I didn’t think too deeply about the implications of his words. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Come on in, it’s drafty in the hallway.” Perhaps sensing my friendly tone, the tension in his eyes eased a bit. But then he pushed his luck. He actually stepped forward and grabbed my arm. “How are your injuries?” Even though he was gorgeous, I hate being touched by strangers. I frowned and pried his fingers off my arm. “My injuries are fine, but… do we know each other?” The room fell dead silent. He stood up straight, looking at me with a bizarre expression, his perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting together. “Sienna, are you still mad at me?” “I admit, going to London was a sudden decision, and I didn’t discuss it with you. But this isn’t the time to throw a tantrum. I took a red-eye flight back here. I’m exhausted. Stop playing games, okay?” He spoke with such conviction, using my first name like we were close. He didn’t act like a stranger at all. Besides… he managed to get in. The trained security guards outside my door hadn’t stopped him. That meant he must be someone I knew. Before he could finish his lecture, a sudden realization hit me. I hit the nurse call button. It felt like I had just figured out the twist in a murder mystery, and I was oddly thrilled. “Hold the discharge papers! I think the victim of my amnesia just walked in!” 3 Chloe, who had been out finalizing my paperwork, rushed back into the room. She first glared at the two security guards who were standing there awkwardly, cursing them out. “Why are you letting any random stray dog into this room?” Then, like a fiercely protective mother bear, she stepped between me and the guy. “Carter Hayes, do you have no shame?” Chloe comes from a long line of Ivy League academics; she’s pure old money. Hearing her swear, I sat up straighter. I realized this situation was more complicated than I thought. “I was overseas for the past two days. I only had time to check the news yesterday and realized the car crash wasn’t a stunt,” Carter said, standing under the harsh fluorescent lights. The cold light highlighted the obvious regret in his dark eyes. But judging by Chloe’s reaction, he wasn’t exactly a good guy. “Get out. The kid is grown, and now you want to be a dad? The revolution is over, and you’re still waving the old flag. What does this have to do with you? Stop acting like you care!” Chloe sneered, clearly not done. She pointed a finger right at his face, backing him toward the door. “Who do you think you’re fooling? You went overseas just to accompany that weak, manipulative little childhood sweetheart of yours to her classes, didn’t you?” “What, did she pretend to be sick again so you’d run to her?” Carter, who had been silent, looked like a nerve had been struck. His expression instantly darkened. “Watch your mouth. I make my own decisions. Maya hasn’t done anything to you. If you have a problem, take it out on me.” “I was waiting for you to say that.” “I’ve been dying to teach you a lesson, you ungrateful prick.” The voice answering Carter didn’t belong to Chloe. It was a lazy, arrogant male voice. Liam, whom I had sent downstairs to grab a package, had materialized in the doorway at some point. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and lived life exactly how he wanted. Before Carter could even react, Liam dropped his easygoing smile and threw a hard punch right at Carter’s face. Liam is a fitness fanatic. He’s built like a tank, with a ridiculously low body fat percentage and terrifying strength. Accompanied by Chloe’s delighted laughter… Carter Hayes hit the floor. 4 I was successfully discharged. Carter Hayes was admitted. On the ride home, I relentlessly pestered Chloe for details. She remained stubbornly tight-lipped about everything involving Carter. But I knew how to use Google. Even though I wasn’t entirely sure how to spell his last name at first, the moment I typed “Carter H”, his name popped up as the top suggested search. It made sense if he was a celebrity. And honestly, if he needed it, throwing some resources his way wouldn’t have been a big deal. After all, Liam had beaten him up without asking questions. And Carter hadn’t pressed charges. If this had escalated to the police, Liam’s dad would have grounded him, and Liam would have whined to me about it endlessly. Giving Carter a few roles as a thank-you for keeping quiet would have been an easy fix. As I scrolled, I saved a few photos of him to my phone—he was definitely my type visually. That was, until I started seeing my own name pop up frequently in his comment sections and fan forums. My smile froze. 5 [Dying from the cuteness… You guys, look at these photos a fan took in the UK of Carter and Maya walking on campus from behind! [Don’t judge me, but I’m kind of glad the ‘Plague’ got into a car crash and was hospitalized. Otherwise, when would Carter ever have a moment to breathe and visit Maya?] [Watching the Plague chase after Carter for years, I felt nothing. But seeing the elite, sophisticated vibe of Maya standing next to him actually makes my heart ache. Only the true girlfriend can make a toxic solo-fan break down.] [Everyone chill out. What if the Plague wakes up from her crash and gets so mad she shuts down our fan page? She’s a top-tier East Coast heiress with massive industry connections, remember?] [Honestly, I think you guys are being too mean to Sienna. She’s a big reason why Carter was able to fight his way to the top and stand before us today. They’re both women, why pit them against each other?] [LMAO, get out of here you gold-digging apologist. Why should we feel sorry for the Plague? She used her money to tear apart young lovers and forced Carter to be with her! If the genders were reversed, the comments would be destroying her.] … It took me a minute to process it. I was the “Plague” his fans wanted to burn at the stake. The comments revealed way too much information. I had the gist of it now. Shocked, I immediately locked my phone, bolted out of my house, and went straight to Chloe’s. I needed the full story. 6 “So you’re telling me, I used to be this unhinged over a guy named Carter?” After listening to Chloe’s two-hour, non-stop, highly animated recap, I was dumbfounded. I had actually thrown a drink at a business partner in public, just for Carter. Was this guy cursed? I furiously deleted the photos I had just saved and unfollowed him on Instagram. Because my emotions were now involved, that face I had thought was stunning ten minutes ago suddenly looked bland. Honestly, he wasn’t even as good-looking as Liam. Chloe’s throat was dry from talking. She chugged a glass of water, looking exasperated. “You get amnesia, and I have to be the one to relive all these toxic memories. It’s not fair.” This was the first time I actually felt the weight of having amnesia. When I tried to access those memories in my brain, there was just a bizarre, empty void. “So I really threw my weight around, acted like a bully, and played the homewrecker who tore apart childhood sweethearts?” “Yeah, right,” Chloe slammed her water glass down on the glass table. “That little hypocrite Maya rejected Carter at first because he was poor. She never accepted his feelings. It was only after you threw millions at him and made him a star that she came running back. How does that make you the homewrecker?” She glared at me. “You’re giving yourself too much credit! The way I see it, you were just the ultimate sugar mommy getting played.” It was hard to believe I had done something so stupid. I forced down my nausea and summarized the situation. “So I spent my money and energy turning him into an A-lister, and he turns around and dates his childhood crush, getting both the career and the girl, while I get nothing?” “Not entirely nothing,” Chloe patted my shoulder. “At least you got a terrible reputation out of it.” Um… okay. What a spectacular return on investment. 7 A week passed, and the internet was still cursing my name. I figured it out: fans take after their idols. If they liked a backstabbing ingrate, I’d just let them have him. Besides, Liam was driving me crazy, so I didn’t have the mental energy to care about meaningless internet drama. Since the day I was discharged, Liam, who usually did whatever he wanted, started acting like a lunatic. Except for going to his office, he went nowhere else. He just followed me around everywhere. He even moved his workouts to the home gym in my basement. Forced to sit and watch him do dumbbell flys, I rubbed my temples. “Liam, my sweet brother, you follow me around all day. Don’t your girlfriends—numbers one through eight—mind?” Between sets, he turned to look at me. His attractive, flirtatious eyes were sharp but filled with amusement. “Of course they don’t mind. I might play the field, but Sienna is always number one. That’s a known fact.” “Alright, just to make sure you haven’t forgotten me, it’s my turn to test you. How did you celebrate your eighteenth birthday?” I: “…” 8 Ever since Liam found out that my amnesia was real, but specifically isolated to Carter Hayes… He dragged me to several different hospitals. Only after getting confirmation from multiple doctors did he first show a profound sense of relief, like a massive weight had been lifted. But somehow… It had devolved into this ridiculous routine where he tested my memory of him every five hours. We grew up together. I couldn’t imagine forgetting Liam’s name; if I did, my brain would be completely useless. I answered him casually: “I remember. Back then, I was about to go to college, and my brother wouldn’t let me go skydiving. You secretly took me to Dubai to do it. Later, your dad beat you up for it, and you were stuck in bed for two days.” I listed the events easily. But a jolt went through my heart. Some memories really don’t fade. Even though so many years had passed, that near-soul-leaving sensation of free-falling from the sky in a foreign country was still vivid. Equally vivid was the rebellious, fearless teenage Liam. A strange feeling bubbled up inside me. When did that cynical little boy suddenly grow into society’s definition of a golden boy? Seeing that I remembered perfectly, he smiled in satisfaction. But then he muttered, “Did you forget the person you liked the most, or the person you hated the most? Why do you remember me so clearly, but…” Here we go again. I was the one who was in a car crash, but he was acting like he was the one with brain damage. Thankfully, my phone rang. Without checking the caller ID, I answered it like a lifeline. The tone on the other end wasn’t very respectful. In fact, it sounded like an aggressive interrogation: “Ms. Sterling, I heard you’re doing fine and have fully recovered, but we still haven’t received the contract for Director Nolan’s new movie that you promised. I’m calling today to confirm—did you forget?” “Who is this?” What kind of nobody talks to me like this? The voice paused. “Ms. Sterling, this is Carter Hayes’s manager.” “I don’t know you.” I realized that not only had I forgotten Carter, I had forgotten everything and everyone associated with him. “Ms. Sterling, are you flaking on us? To be honest, our team prioritized this project. We cleared his schedule for the entire second half of the year for this. This is…” I actually laughed out loud. “What does that have to do with me?” The manager clearly didn’t expect that response. “Excuse me?” My patience was gone. “I said, I have absolutely no relationship with Carter Hayes. This is my private number. Do not bother me again.” Over her shocked gasp, I hung up the phone. Hearing the name Carter Hayes, Liam reacted like a triggered alarm. He dropped his dumbbells and marched over. “What happened? Are you upset? Did that punk cause trouble for you again?” He had just finished lifting. His muscles were pumped. He looked like he was ready to kill someone. Liam, you crazy kid. You really are a good friend. I patted his shoulder to calm him down. “It’s not a big deal.” I had amnesia; what kind of impact could Carter possibly have on me now? He was just a smudge of dirt. I’d just wipe him away. My life afforded me plenty of room for error. 9 I pulled all the resources I currently had invested in Carter. But he had already made a name for himself in the industry. Even without my help, his career was booming. Aside from losing the role in Director Nolan’s film, the impact wasn’t huge. When we talked about it, Chloe was furious. “It’s too easy on him. If it weren’t for you, an amateur like him would never have broken into the elite Hollywood circles.” I rested my head on my hand, bored, looking at my freshly manicured nails. “Let it go. He’s just a passing phase.” I could make him or break him with a thought. But it wasn’t worth my time. Having power and not abusing it, always leaving a little leeway—that was the philosophy my father taught me. I kept it close to my heart. Just as my manicure finished, my phone rang. I answered it. It was a man’s voice, slurred with alcohol. “Sienna, I want to see you.” 10 I recognized Carter’s voice. Not because I was secretly obsessing over him. Mainly because his commercials and news were everywhere; it was hard not to recognize it. But I was curious. “And?” I wondered to what extent I had spoiled him in the past… To make him think that I, Sienna Sterling, was someone he could summon just because he “wanted” to see me? There was a pause on the other end. The man’s voice was mumbled, but the grievance in his tone was obvious. “The internet says you don’t want me anymore.” Thinking of those comments, I looked down to admire the rhinestones on my nails and chuckled dismissively. “They’re right.” “Your fans seem very happy about it.” I had unfollowed Carter on Instagram. Fans sniffed out the drama, dug around, and discovered that numerous brands associated with me had ended their partnerships with him. The reaction was pure joy. [Best news ever! The Plague is finally letting our star-crossed lovers go! sobbing Star-Moon shippers, it’s time to celebrate!] [Carter, you survived! You made it through the darkness. Your future is going to be so bright!] [LMAO, the heiress wants to ship them now? A grassroots star turned A-lister x Ivy League gorgeous scholar. Overcoming a rich girl’s obsession and long distance—it’s the ultimate ‘love conquers all’ trope. Anyway, if you’re going to love Carter, you might as well love the Star-Moon ship! You won’t regret it!] Some big fan accounts were even doing cash giveaways to celebrate Carter escaping the “spoiled heiress’s clutches.” I honestly didn’t understand what they were so happy about. They still didn’t get it. The entertainment industry replaces people quickly. Beauty isn’t a scarce resource. Power is. I was the one holding the power in this dynamic. I was the one who could pull out and walk away whenever I wanted. I wasn’t the Plague to their idol. I was his ATM. They didn’t understand that now, but that was fine. I was bored, and feeling a little wicked. While Carter was still crying on the phone… I casually retweeted a photo of Carter and Maya posted by a shipper account, and added a comment: [Absolutely stunning couple. God-tier pairing. Love it.] Send. Since his fans wanted me to ship them, I’d oblige. It was a great way to signal to the world that I had moved on from Carter. I like doing things that are low-cost and highly efficient.

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I was kidnapped as a child. To fill the void, my parents adopted a girl from an orphanage. Years later, when I finally reunited with them, the adopted daughter committed suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. She left behind a thick photo album—a meticulous record of her life as the family’s “perfect princess.” Seeing those photos, my parents were utterly devastated. At her funeral, they wept until they choked, screaming curses at me: “If you hadn’t come back, Mia would never have done this!” They said I was the one who deserved to die. And their wish came true—my biological brother ran me down with his car. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the reunion ceremony. 1 I woke up on the bus. My adoptive mother, Martha Miller, gently shook my arm. “Chloe, sweetie, we’re here. Wake up.” I opened my eyes, staring at the familiar scenery with a momentary blankness in my mind. I had just had a dream. In that dream, I was killed. My biological brother, Maverick Sterling, hit me with his car, sending me flying thirty feet. My arm snapped like a dry twig. Maverick had stepped out of the car, looking down at me in a pool of blood with nothing but ice in his eyes. “Chloe Sterling, you’re the one who should be dead,” he’d hissed. “Why did you have to come back? Give Mia back to me!” The curses of my biological parents still rang in my ears: “If you hadn’t come back, Mia would never have sought death.” They hated me to my core, yet they were the ones who had searched for me. Mia was their adopted daughter. After I was snatched by traffickers as a toddler, my parents were paralyzed by grief. It was Maverick, my older brother, who suggested: “Mom, Dad, we’re never going to find her. Let’s just adopt someone from the orphanage.” They took his advice and adopted a girl around my age. They named her Mia—a name meant to signify that she was “theirs” forever, a vessel for the love they could no longer give to me. Mia was raised like a princess. Meanwhile, I was sold from one trafficker to another, forced to beg on street corners. Eventually, I ended up in a dusty Midwestern town, nearly starving to death under a bridge. Martha Miller found me. Her husband had died in a construction accident years prior, and she was raising a son three years younger than me. After taking me in, she worked three jobs—cleaning houses, waitressing, and sewing—to raise us both. We were poor, but I felt a warmth and love I never knew existed. Then, Arthur and Catherine Sterling found me. They arranged a grand “reunion ceremony.” In my past life, I had died on the way back from that very life. Looking at the Sterling Building now—the massive headquarters where the ceremony was being held—I felt a cold shiver down my spine. Arthur had invited the media to build hype, using my “tragic return” to boost the company’s stock. “Chloe, is that the building? It’s so grand,” Martha said, her eyes turning red. “You’ve suffered enough, baby. Once you go back, you won’t have to live this hard life anymore…” She choked back her tears, forcing a bitter yet relieved smile. I knew she didn’t want to let me go. In my last life, she had spent the entire bus ride home crying after I left with the Sterlings. 2 I looked at her. “Mom, did you bring my photo album? Give it to me.” “I did.” Martha pulled a tattered, worn-out album from her bag and handed it to me. I flipped through it. It was a record of my survival. Every page was a testament to the life I actually lived. Mia had an album too. Hers was a fairytale—the story of a little girl becoming a high-society heiress. In my previous life, on the day of the reunion, we all cried together. Mia had slipped away early, locked herself in her room, and swallowed a whole bottle of pills. By the time my parents brought me home, cheering and celebrating, the housekeeper found her. The joy vanished instantly. Arthur carried Mia’s limp body to the car, screaming for the driver. The doctors shook their heads. “We did everything we could. Prepare for the funeral.” Catherine had fainted. Mia had tucked a suicide note into her “princess” album. [Mom, Dad, Maverick—thank you for the endless love you gave me.] [Now, I’m giving everything back to Chloe.] [Goodbye. If there’s a next life, I want to be your real daughter.] My parents wept over her childhood photos. She was their “Crown Jewel.” They thought: How much pain was she in to do this without a word? Maverick flew back from his study abroad program that night. He sat in Mia’s room until dawn, whispering her name, consumed by guilt. “Mia, I was too late. I didn’t protect you.” “Why were you so stupid? Why didn’t you talk to me?” “You want to die? I’ll go with you. But first, the person who caused this will pay.” They blamed Mia’s death on me. They regretted finding me. At the funeral, they told me to get out and never show my face again. As I walked aimlessly down the street after the service, Maverick’s sports car came screaming toward me… 3 I snapped back to the present. I took Martha’s hand and walked toward the Sterling Building. The lobby was packed with reporters. My biological parents were waiting at the front, their necks craned, searching for my arrival. Maverick wasn’t back from London yet. When we appeared, the Sterling employees parted to let us through. Cameras flashed. Reporters swarmed. Arthur and Catherine walked toward me, their eyes welling up. Catherine opened her arms. “Chloe, we finally found you! Our baby girl!” I didn’t run into her arms. I didn’t cry. I stepped back, avoiding her embrace. They froze. Arthur tried to smooth things over. “Chloe, you’ve suffered so much. Come home with us. We’ll make it up to you a thousand times over.” I looked past them. In the back of the crowd, Mia was standing there in a custom Chanel suit. Her eyes were filled with nothing but disdain. I cleared my throat and looked at the couple in front of me. “I came today because I wanted to tell you one thing: I am not going back to the Sterling house.” I looped my arm through Martha’s. “My mother raised me through blood and sweat. I have to repay her. I’m staying with the woman who actually took care of me.” Arthur and Catherine’s faces paled. They never expected this script. “Chloe, don’t be difficult,” Arthur said. “We appreciate what your adoptive mother did. We’ll compensate her. We’ll give her a million dollars.” The employees began whispering. “Does she even know what Sterling Industries is worth?” “If she goes home with the Chairman, she’ll have more money than she can spend in a lifetime. Is she an idiot?” “Her adoptive mom looks like a total peasant. A million dollars is more than she’d make in ten lifetimes.” A reporter piped up. “Chloe Sterling, your parents are among the top three wealthiest people in this city. They’ve prepared luxury cars and estates for you. Don’t make a mistake.” I looked at him calmly. “I am an adult. I have the right to choose my own life. I choose my mother.” I thrust the tattered album into Catherine’s hands. “You missed my childhood. This album will show you exactly how I grew up. Consider it my gift to you. Goodbye.” I took Martha’s hand and pushed through the crowd, walking out of the building. Behind me, I heard Mia’s mocking voice: “What an actress. She’s probably just playing hard to get to ask for more money. Absolutely disgusting.” 4 Catherine frowned. “Mia, don’t talk about Chloe like that. This family owes her.” Arthur dismissed the media and the staff. He walked over to Mia, his tone sharp. “Mia, watch your mouth. What kind of heiress speaks like that?” Mia pouted. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Then she shifted gears. “Since she doesn’t want to come back, maybe we should just let it go? Blood isn’t thicker than water. To her, that woman is her mother. Just like me—even if my biological parents showed up, I’d only ever recognize you two.” Catherine felt a pang of guilt. Her voice was strained. “It’s not the same. We pampered you from birth. Chloe’s mother is poor. Chloe must have suffered terribly.” She flipped open the album. The first photo was of me at five years old, wearing rags, helping Martha shuck corn in a dusty field. Arthur looked at the photo, and both of them felt a sharp sting in their chests. It triggered a memory. When I was born, the Sterlings were just starting their business. They weren’t wealthy yet. When I was three, they took Maverick and me to a theme park. Maverick wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. I was too small. Catherine wanted to stay behind with me, but Maverick threw a tantrum. “I want Mom and Dad to sit with me! Dad on the left, Mom on the right!” They relented. They always spoiled him. They left me at a snack stand, telling me not to move. The park was packed. The vendor was overwhelmed. No one was watching. Maverick laughed with delight as the Ferris wheel rose. The three of them watched from the air as a man picked me up and vanished into the crowd. By the time they got down, I was gone. As they turned the pages of the album, Catherine started to cry. The album showed me growing up in the mud. They looked at Mia—who had been a dirty orphan once—and realized they had given her everything they owed to me. They had pampered her until she was spoiled and arrogant. Every photo reminded them that I and Mia had swapped lives. I was the one who belonged in the palace; she was the one who belonged in the dirt. Mia noticed the sympathy shifting. She grabbed the album and slammed it shut. “Mom, stop looking at this. She doesn’t even want you. Why are you staring at her photos? It’s just going to make you miserable. I’ll burn it for you.” 5 “Stop it!” Catherine snatched the album back. “Mia, give it to me.” Mia wouldn’t let go. “Mom, why are you doing this to yourself? I’m doing this for your own good. I don’t want you and Dad to be sad.” Catherine pulled so hard she fell to the floor. Arthur’s temper exploded. He slapped Mia across the face. “Enough!” Mia clutched her cheek, tears welling up. “Dad… you’ve never hit me before.” Arthur’s face was grim. “Mia, can you be sensible for once? Your mother and I are stressed enough. Stop causing trouble.” “I’m the one causing trouble?” Mia laughed through her tears. “Fine. I’m the problem. I guess there’s no room for me in this house anymore.” She wiped her eyes and stormed out. “I’m leaving. I won’t bother you again!” Catherine watched her go, filled with regret. “Arthur, was that too much? We’ve never laid a hand on her. What if she does something desperate?” Arthur looked at his palm and sighed. “I was angry. I hit her too hard.” He paused. “Call Maverick. Tell him to go find her and talk some sense into her.” 6 A few days after I returned to my real home, Arthur and Catherine showed up with their arms full of designer bags and gifts. I had worked part-time throughout college and saved enough to renovate Martha’s house the year before. It was decent now, but to the Sterlings, it was still a hovel. Martha invited them in. They tried to act friendly, asking about my life. I told them I had a degree in Biotechnology and was working as a junior technician at a local lab. Arthur’s eyes lit up. “Chloe! Sterling Industries specializes in skincare and cosmetics. Your major is exactly what our R&D department needs. Come work for the family company.” When I didn’t answer, he added, “I’ll triple your current salary.” Catherine played the emotional card. “Chloe, competition is fierce right now. Our new product line is hitting a wall. Please, come help your parents.” I stood up to show them out. “I’ll think about it. If that’s all, you should go.” They looked at me pleadingly. “Chloe, just call us when you’ve decided. We just want our family to be whole.” I said coldly, “Your adopted daughter doesn’t seem to want me there. I’ll consider the job, but moving into your house? No.” Arthur promised, “Don’t worry about Mia. We’ll handle her. She won’t give you any trouble.” “I’ll let you know.” I waved them off. 7 Martha told me she’d support whatever I chose. I waited two weeks. During that time, Arthur and Catherine called me daily. I also heard that Maverick was back. After Mia got slapped, she had gone to a club and gotten trashed. Maverick had picked her up and carried her home. She had cried in his arms all night. The next day, to cheer his “princess” up, Maverick took her on a shopping spree, spending hundreds of thousands of dollars. She had asked him: “Maverick, if Chloe comes back and bullies me, whose side will you be on?” Maverick ruffled her hair. “Silis, don’t be stupid. I grew up with you. She’s a stranger. I’ll always protect you.” Maverick had a girlfriend, a wealthy socialite currently finishing her degree in Paris. I finally called Arthur and agreed to the job. The refusal at the ceremony was just a move to gain leverage. Of course I was going back. How else would I get my revenge? The memory of Maverick killing me was a nightmare I couldn’t shake. My tragedy was tied to him, and I wasn’t going to let him off easy. Arthur and Catherine picked me up the next day. Since I refused to move into the mansion, they got me a luxury apartment near the office. I joined the R&D department as a lead technician. That weekend, they invited me to the mansion for dinner. Maverick and Mia were there. It was the first “family” dinner. Maverick was cold. He looked at me with the same hostility as Mia. In their eyes, I was the reason Maverick had been abused by his parents. When I was kidnapped, Arthur and Catherine had blamed him for years, telling him that if he hadn’t been so selfish about the Ferris wheel, I wouldn’t have been taken. He had grown up under their shadow and their lashes. Mia was his only light. After a beating, she’d bring him candy. “Don’t be sad, Maverick. You still have me.” She was his savior. I was the demon who had dragged him into hell. At the table, Arthur tried to break the silence. “Chloe, are you seeing anyone? Do you want us to set you up?” Before I could answer, Catherine jumped in. “I think Silas Vance, the second son of the Vance family, would be perfect. We have a merger plan with them…” Mia interrupted. “Mom, didn’t you tell me to get to know Silas? Why are you giving him to Chloe now?” Catherine smiled awkwardly. “I had tea with Mrs. Vance yesterday. She mentioned Silas wasn’t interested in you. I thought Chloe might have better luck.” Mia’s face darkened. “Mrs. Vance is wrong. Silas and I are great. He even invited me to a concert!” Arthur smoothed it over. “Fine, Mia. You keep seeing Silas.” Mia’s expression softened. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll secure the Vance alliance.” Maverick dropped his fork, his cold face becoming even colder. He stood up. “I’m full. I’m going to my room.” Mia took two bites of food and followed him. “Mom, Maverick looks sick. I’ll check on him.” 8 After dinner, Catherine showed me the house, telling me to pick a room for when I felt “ready.” The estate was massive. I told her I’d walk around on my own. As I passed a door on the second floor, I heard Mia and Maverick arguing. “Mia, Silas Vance is a playboy. He’s not good enough for you. I won’t let you marry him.” “Maverick, I have to marry someone eventually, don’t I? You have a girlfriend. I don’t like her, but you aren’t breaking up with her.” “She’s pregnant,” Maverick’s voice was strained. “I can’t just leave her. But Mia, you don’t have to marry. I can take care of you for the rest of your life.” “She’s pregnant?” Mia laughed, her tone bitter. “Wow. I guess I really should focus on Silas. Maybe we’ll actually fall in love.” “Don’t you dare.” “Just watch me.” Yikes. Over the next few months, I buried myself in work. Mia worked in Quality Control. We had to interact often, and she tried to sabotage me constantly, but I neutralized every move. I learned that the Sterlings and Vances had a messy history. The Vances used to be the main suppliers for Sterling Industries. They had helped Arthur start the company and even bought shares when the Sterlings were struggling. But as the company grew, Arthur kicked the Vances off the board and switched suppliers. He burned the bridge. Now, Sterling Industries was stagnating, while the Vances had patented a new technology that everyone wanted. Arthur’s solution? A marriage alliance. It was a desperate, almost delusional move. One weekend, Mia posted a photo on Instagram: [At a concert with my favorite person.] It showed two hands linked together. She was officially with Silas Vance. The next morning, I ran into her in the elevator. She brushed her hair back, revealing hickeys on her neck. She smirked at me. “Silas is mine. Don’t even think about the merger.” “Congratulations,” I said flatly. “To the future Mrs. Vance.” “Stop acting like you’re above it,” she hissed. “You’re dying of jealousy. Don’t think for a second that working here makes you a Sterling. You’re just an ugly duckling. You’ll never be a swan.” Mia was in a white designer dress and diamonds. I was in a sharp black power suit. Looking at our reflection, I didn’t think I was the one losing. The elevator hit the lobby, and Silas Vance was standing there in a tailored suit. Our department had invited him for a technical seminar. Silas stepped in, his eyes immediately locking onto me. Mia grabbed his arm. “Silas, let’s have lunch later.” “I’m here for work, Mia,” Silas said, pulling his arm away coldly. “Maybe later.” Mia’s face fell. She saw Silas staring at me in the mirror. “Hi, Mr. Vance,” I said politely. He reached out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you. You must be Chloe.” Mia looked like she was going to explode. She thought I was her rival for a man. She was wrong. I was only interested in the supplier.

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A five-year-old boy with a severe heart defect lived for barely a month because I defied his family’s wishes and fought tooth and nail to perform a heart transplant on him. The result? He drowned the very day he was discharged. His family stormed the hospital and stabbed me eighteen times. My boyfriend, pretending to try and save my life, leaned in close and whispered viciously in my ear. “Know why you’re being stabbed? Because I tricked this hillbilly family into thinking you botched the surgery…” “Sarah, you have to die so I can take your place as the Chief of Surgery!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first consulted that little boy. 1 “Surgery? You only do surgery on crippled people!” “My sweet grandson is perfectly healthy! You’re just a quack trying to squeeze money out of us!” The shrill, grating insults echoed in my ears. I clutched my chest, gasping for air. What was happening… Didn’t I just get stabbed to death? “Ma’am! Watch your language!” “Dr. Jenkins is the youngest Attending Surgeon in the entire cardiothoracic department!” Jessica, a medical intern, stepped in front of me, indignantly defending my honor. I slowly raised my head. I saw a ragged-looking older woman clutching a five-year-old boy in her arms, spit flying from her mouth as she yelled. Sitting across from my desk was a scruffy, middle-aged man, his head down as he scrolled on his phone. That man! That was Billy Miller—the man who stabbed me eighteen times! Why was I seeing him again… Could it be… Did God open His eyes and give me a second chance at life?! Before I could fully process it, Billy crossed his legs and spoke with absolute arrogance. “I just looked it up on WebMD. My son’s symptoms match a basic respiratory infection. Just write us a prescription for some antibiotics so we can leave.” Jessica was so furious she could barely stand still. She fired back instantly. “You can’t trust random things you read on the internet! Dr. Jenkins has clearly explained that your son’s heart condition is critical!” “The only option is a transplant! If he doesn’t get surgery, your son won’t live past the month!” Billy slammed his hand on the desk and stood up, pointing a menacing finger at me and Jessica. “You little bitches dare curse my son?! You looking for a beating?!” “If you mention surgery one more time, I’ll tear this whole hospital apart!” The five-year-old, Tommy, realizing what was going on, started throwing a massive tantrum in his grandmother’s arms. “I don’t want surgery! I don’t want it! I don’t want it!” “Surgery hurts! They want to hurt me! Grandma, hit them! Kill them!!” “Oh, my sweet boy, don’t cry, you’re breaking Grandma’s heart! I’ll beat her up for you right now!” The grandmother, Martha, hoisted Tommy up, raised her hand, and swung it directly at my face. This entire scene was sickeningly familiar. In my past life, holding true to my medical ethics, I forcefully admitted Tommy to the hospital. When a suitable donor heart became available, I spent hours convincing his mother to sign the consent form and personally performed the transplant. The surgery was a massive success. His recovery was flawless. A few days later, he was discharged. But I never expected that on the very day he went home, the family—unable to say no to the brat’s whining—would completely ignore my strict medical orders and let him go swimming in a freezing lake! The extreme shock sent his heart into an arrhythmia. He couldn’t even make it to the shore before he drowned. Bang! I slammed my hand down on the desk. Martha froze mid-swing. Billy snapped his head to look at me. I looked at them, my voice completely calm and indifferent. “Don’t worry. From this day forward, I will never operate on him.” Today, I finally understood a universal truth. My top-tier medical resources shouldn’t be wasted saving idiots. People who seek death don’t deserve to live. 2 Billy assumed I was intimidated by his outburst. He sat back down, looking smug. “Should’ve said that from the start! You women just need to be put in your place!” Martha pulled Tommy back into her arms and spat on the floor toward me. “What terrible luck! Getting up bright and early to come to the hospital, only to get assigned this black-hearted quack!” “Let’s go! We’ll make the nurses find us a real doctor!” “What’s going on? Why is it so loud in here?” A male voice came from the doorway. Everyone turned to look. A handsome doctor in a crisp white coat walked in. It was Dr. Mark Evans, my boyfriend of seven years. I stared at him, my eyes bloodshot. His vicious words right before my death echoed in my skull. I used to think we were the perfect couple, moving from medical school sweethearts to successful professionals. I had no idea he had viewed me as a thorn in his side this entire time! “Dr. Evans! Thank god you’re here!” “These people are actually insulting Dr. Jenkins’s expertise!” Jessica let out a sigh of relief, looking at Mark like he was our savior. Mark frowned slightly upon hearing the different titles—”Dr. Evans” versus “Dr. Jenkins” (who held the title of Attending Professor). Without asking my permission, he casually picked up Tommy’s charts and scans. “Is that so? Let me take a look at the scans.” “Hmm… there is a bit of inflammation. A few days of IV antibiotics will do the trick. It’s nothing serious.” Hearing this, the three Millers let out a collective sigh of relief, looking at Mark like he was a god. “Male doctors are just more reliable! See? I told you my son was fine!” “You are so smart and moral, doctor! Not like this black-hearted woman who actually wanted to cut my precious grandson open!” Mark stood next to me and spoke with a sickeningly modest tone. “Sarah is young. She relies entirely on her surgical skills to hold her position, so it’s natural that she likes to show off in front of patients.” “She just got a little too eager and made a mistake this time. Please, forgive her.” I watched his performance with cold, dead eyes. This kind of gaslighting—pretending to defend me while actually throwing me under the bus—wasn’t a first for Mark. It was laughable how blind I was in my past life, actually believing he was looking out for me. “Dr. Evans, could you be our doctor instead?” “If we stay in the hands of this black-hearted woman, my grandson will end up dead!” Martha grabbed Mark’s hand like it was her lifeline. Being treated like a savior clearly fed Mark’s ego, but he put on a conflicted face and looked at me. “If I take over Sarah’s patient, she’ll get angry. I don’t think that’s very…” “It’s fine. He’s yours.” I spoke with absolute sincerity, then turned to Jessica. “Hand Tommy Miller’s entire file over to Dr. Evans.” “Oh… okay…” Jessica hesitated for a second, but handed all the documents to Mark. I checked my watch. “Clinic hours are over, right? Let’s go grab lunch.” “Sarah, don’t be so immature. The patients are right here, this isn’t the time to eat…” Mark frowned in disapproval, but before he could finish his sentence, I had already walked out the door with Jessica. In the hallway, Jessica kept looking back, finally asking in confusion. “Dr. Jenkins, aren’t you angry?” “Of course not.” The Millers were thrilled, acting like they had just struck gold. Little did they know, the real reason Mark hadn’t been promoted all these years was because he was an incompetent hack. In this entire hospital, outside of my retired mentor, I was the only one who could accurately diagnose Tommy’s true underlying condition, and the only one capable of performing that specific transplant. I couldn’t wait to see what Tommy’s condition would look like after a few days of Mark’s “treatment.” 3 Martha, having grown up in a rural trailer park, was a walking megaphone. It didn’t even take a day before she had broadcasted the tale of the “Black-Hearted Sarah Jenkins” and the “Savior Mark Evans” to the entire hospital. The drama even reached the ears of the hospital’s upper management. That afternoon, the moment I opened the door to the Chief of Surgery’s office, a flurry of papers was thrown right at my face. Dr. Davis, the Chief, pointed a furious finger at me. “Sarah, read the complaint letter from Tommy Miller’s grandmother yourself!” “Attempted murder for profit, medical incompetence, disrespecting the elderly… You’ve really outdone yourself this time!” I picked up one of the papers and glanced at it. Wow! It was neatly typed out on a printer! For a woman who could barely string a coherent sentence together, Martha was surprisingly tech-savvy. “Medical-patient relations are already tense, and you pull a stunt like this!” “The board has decided: your salary is suspended for six months. And your nomination for the ‘Surgeon of the Year’ award is being revoked and given to Mark!” I looked at Mark, who was standing proudly next to Dr. Davis, and smiled knowingly. The “Surgeon of the Year” award was the ultimate stepping stone for a promotion to Attending. No wonder he went through so much effort to orchestrate this circus. Dr. Davis turned and patted Mark on the shoulder, his tone softening considerably. “Since this has blown up, the local media is actually interested in Tommy’s case. You absolutely must cure him.” “Tomorrow morning, I’ve scheduled a tour with several news outlets. You will be the face of our hospital’s excellent patient care. Make sure you perform well!” Mark gave Dr. Davis a warm, confident smile. “Thank you for the opportunity, Dr. Davis. I won’t let you down.” It was almost time to clock out. Mark and I walked out of Dr. Davis’s office, one after the other. Mark quickened his pace and grabbed my wrist. “Sarah, it’s been all day! Stop throwing a tantrum!” I slapped his hand away and pulled out a tissue, wiping my wrist aggressively as if I had been touched by infectious bacteria. “I forgot to tell you, Mark. Let’s break up.” Over the past seven years, I had never once gotten genuinely angry with him, let alone mentioned breaking up. Because of that, Mark didn’t even take my words seriously. He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation. “You just want me to coax you, don’t you?” “Fine, fine, fine, it’s all my fault. Are you happy now?” “Yes, I took your patient, and I took your award nomination… but you’re just not skilled enough. Is that my fault?” Not skilled enough. What an unfamiliar critique. I hadn’t heard that since my first year of med school. I crossed my arms and looked at Mark, genuinely amused. “Mark, you really shouldn’t think so highly of yourself.” Mark stepped forward, blocking my path, seamlessly transitioning into his practiced gaslighting routine. “Sarah, a woman’s career will never outlast a man’s. It’s just biology.” “Look at yourself. You’re in your thirties, your surgical skills are regressing, and your reputation is tanking.” “How about this: you just resign, hand all your clinical trials and networking contacts over to me, and we’ll get married right away.” “Get out of my way! Good dogs don’t block the road!” I didn’t listen to a single word he said. I raised my right leg and delivered a brutal, precise knee strike directly to his groin. “AGHHHH!!” Mark collapsed to the floor, clutching himself in agony, letting out a shriek that sounded like a slaughtered pig. “Sarah Jenkins! You’re going to pay for this!” 4 Early the next morning. The hospital was swarming with reporters. Mark walked at the forefront, followed by a massive entourage, looking every bit the prestigious hotshot doctor. “Our hospital prioritizes patient care above all else. Every patient who walks through our doors receives five-star service.” “Nurse Jessica! Why are you eating breakfast? Hurry up and check the blood pressure in bed 2!” “Interns in the back! You look tired from your night shift? Go re-organize the medical files for this entire floor!” … When I walked out of my office, I saw my colleagues being ordered around like slaves, every single one of them muttering curses under their breath. Jessica, who had already heard about my breakup with Mark, was standing with her hands on her hips, fuming. “All morning, he’s been bossing around the nurses and interns from the entire building just to cater to his one patient!” “He gets a tiny bit of power and completely loses his mind!” I handed a platinum credit card to Jessica and took the medical files from her hands. “We’re already short-staffed; we can’t have the team burning out. Go use my card to buy everyone a massive breakfast spread. I’ll go do the rounds for Emily Carter myself.” VIP Room 404. Before I even walked in, I heard a vicious argument. “It’s just a stupid toy piano! So what if my sweet grandson broke it!?” “Look at you, dressed like a slut! Who knows what man you slept with to get that money? You have no morals, no wonder your kid got a heart disease! It’s karma!” “Yeah! My grandma said everything I see is mine! If you don’t give it to me, you can’t have it either!!” Pushing the door open, I saw Tommy stomping on a shattered toy piano like a little wrecking ball. Martha was standing with her hands on her hips, verbally abusing Emily and her mother. Mrs. Carter held Emily tight against her chest, her eyes red with tears, too stunned by the sheer trashiness to respond. “Destruction of private property, illegal trespassing in a private VIP room, defamation of character… the witnesses and evidence are all here. I’m calling the police.” I pulled out my phone and dialed clearly. Right then, Mark’s parade of reporters arrived at the door. Acting like a benevolent CEO in a soap opera, he reached out and swatted my phone down. “I arranged for Tommy to be placed in the VIP wing. I can personally pay full price for the broken toy.” “Sarah, you’re being far too aggressive. You need to learn how to be kind!” I crossed my arms and stared him down. “The VIP room costs $10,000 a night. You booked them for ten days. The toy piano is a limited-edition designer piece that costs $20,000. That’s $120,000 total. Pay up right now.” Mark’s eyes practically popped out of his skull. His annual salary was barely over $200,000. This was equivalent to giving up more than half a year’s pay! “What’s wrong? Dr. Evans made a grand promise in front of all these reporters. Are you trying to back out now? Your ‘good guy’ persona is going to crumble.” Mark glared at me with pure hatred, reluctantly pulling out his debit card. Noticing the row of camera lenses pointed at him, he quickly adjusted his expression and let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Sarah, I know you’re bitter because Martha realized your skills were lacking and chose me over you.” “But they weren’t wrong to choose a more capable doctor. You should just admit your own shortcomings!” I rolled my eyes, too lazy to argue with his delusions, and turned to walk toward the nurse’s station. Surprisingly, Mark followed me, pulling me into a secluded corner. Seeing that the reporters were busy filming Tommy’s family, he dropped the act and showed his true, malicious face. “Sarah, since you’re so bitter, let’s put our cards on the table. Want to make a bet?” I paused. “What kind of bet?” “If I cure Tommy, you voluntarily resign your Attending position and recommend me as your replacement!” After dating for seven years, this was the first time I truly saw Mark’s real face. A rotten core with zero medical ethics, willing to gamble with a patient’s life just for a promotion! I was practically trembling with rage. “And if you don’t cure him, you stand in the main hospital lobby and scream ten times that you’re a useless scrub who lived off Sarah Jenkins. How about that?” “I want the Attending position, but I’m putting my entire reputation on the line. You’re not losing out on this deal, Dr. Jenkins!” So Mark knew exactly what he was. He knew he had lived off my success. During med school, his grades were so mediocre he could never have gotten my elite mentor to advise him. I had to beg on his behalf. When applying for jobs, if I hadn’t made it a strict condition that any hospital hiring me had to hire him too, he wouldn’t have even been allowed to clean the floors at this top-tier hospital. Looking at his insanely confident face, I was both furious and highly amused. “Since you’re so desperate for me to agree, I look forward to seeing your so-called ‘capabilities’.” 5 After calling janitorial to clean up the room. Mrs. Carter grabbed my hand, her eyes red. “Dr. Jenkins, thank you for helping us just now.” “To be honest, I really don’t know how to deal with unreasonable people like that. I had already contacted the charge nurse to switch our rooms.” Looking at Mrs. Carter, my heart ached. In my past life, when Billy Miller lunged at me with a knife, it was Mrs. Carter who threw herself in front of me, taking several fatal stab wounds on my behalf. Tragically, Mark never even attempted to save me, and I bled to death. I failed Mrs. Carter’s bravery, and I missed Emily’s surgery the very next day… “Mrs. Carter, don’t worry. I promise you, Emily will recover and be perfectly healthy.” Logically, doctors shouldn’t make absolute guarantees to avoid giving false hope. But facing Mrs. Carter, I bet my entire medical career and reputation on that firm promise. Mrs. Carter smiled through her tears. “Dr. Jenkins, I believe you.” “Don’t listen to those rumors. You are the best doctor here!” After that day, articles, videos, and photos of my confrontation with Mark went viral, even trending at number one on social media. The news outlets created a dedicated reality-style column covering “Dr. Jenkins and Dr. Evans: Two Doctors, Two Heart Patients,” assigning reporters to document everything. Mark changing Tommy’s bandages? Filmed. Tommy going to the bathroom alone? Filmed. I didn’t participate in the circus. I spent all my time aggressively coordinating with organ networks to secure a suitable donor heart for Emily as quickly as possible. A week later. Jessica came running to me in a panic. “Dr. Jenkins! Something happened! Tommy is crashing!” By the time Jessica and I reached VIP Room 404, a massive crowd had gathered outside. On the bed, Tommy, who had been full of life days ago, was as pale as a corpse. The monitors were flatlining, screaming continuously. Mark was kneeling on the bed, using a defibrillator to shock Tommy while turning his head to scream at the assisting doctors and nurses. “Turn up the joules! Are you all useless?!” Clear! Tommy’s body jerked violently into the air like a broken ragdoll, then slammed back down. Martha and Billy were sobbing hysterically in each other’s arms, their previous arrogance completely gone. “It’s still not working! Higher!” A male intern, sweating profusely, finally yelled out. “Dr. Evans, we can’t go any higher! You’re going to fry the patient’s organs!” Watching from the doorway, I frowned. “Tommy’s condition was critical, but it shouldn’t have deteriorated to this stage in just a week. What happened?” Jessica, ignoring the reporters circling them, explained it to me. “It was Dr. Evans. He insisted on treating Tommy’s condition purely as inflammation. To ‘cure’ him faster for the cameras, he massively overdosed him on IV antibiotics!” “Idiot.” “Mark is an idiot, and the Millers are idiots for trusting him.” Remembering how the Millers had murdered me and ruined my reputation in my past life, I turned around with Jessica and walked away. The male intern inside spotted me and screamed. “Dr. Evans! Dr. Jenkins is right outside! Let’s ask her to come in and help!!” 6 The eyes of the entire crowd locked onto me. I looked at Mark, who was frantically searching for another instrument. “If I take over Dr. Evans’s patient, he’ll get angry. I don’t think that’s very appropriate.” “However, I suppose I am a doctor with morals. If Dr. Evans gets on his knees and begs me, I’ll agree.” “A human life versus kneeling down—it should be an easy choice, right?” Mark’s eyes were bloodshot with hatred. He instantly refused. “Who needs your help?!” “From now on, if you dare interfere with this patient, I’ll make you pay!” Exactly the answer I expected. I left the scene without looking back. That afternoon, after clinic hours ended. Jessica ran over, excitedly gossiping about the morning’s fallout. “Dr. Jenkins, I got the full scoop on what happened after you left.” “I heard Dr. Evans pumped Tommy full of heavy stimulants to revive him. The kid is alive, but he’s basically hanging on by a thread.” “To prove his treatment plan was right, Dr. Evans personally ran a full diagnostic check on Tommy again from head to toe.” “When the results came out, every doctor and nurse in the hospital saw that Tommy actually had a severe heart defect, and that Dr. Evans had rapidly worsened it in just a few days! It totally cleared your name…” I suddenly stopped walking. Jessica followed my gaze and saw Mark arguing with Martha in a secluded corner of the hallway. “Tommy’s condition is extremely critical. He needs a heart transplant immediately.” Martha cried, beating her chest in agony. “Why does he need surgery?! Didn’t you say it was just an infection?! You have to take responsibility for this!” Mark, struggling to contain his impatience, repeated himself. “That’s why I’m telling you, Tommy needs surgery right now. Sign the consent form so I can make the arrangements.” Martha shrieked and jumped up like a madwoman, slapping and hitting Mark wildly. “No surgery! Absolutely not! If we wanted surgery, we would have stayed with that female doctor! Why did we even hire you?!” “My sweet grandson was perfectly healthy, and you turned him into this!” “You monster, give me back my grandson! Give him back!” Mark’s patience snapped. Dropping the facade entirely, he slapped Martha across the face, sending her crashing to the floor. He walked over and ground his expensive dress shoe into her hand, his voice chillingly dark. “Do you think I’m some bleeding-heart saint like Sarah Jenkins who saves everyone she sees?” “If curing that little brat wouldn’t get me a promotion, do you think I’d waste a second on you?” “Let me be clear. The reporters are at lunch. It’s just the two of us in this hallway. If you don’t sign this paper right now, I have a hundred ways to make you die of ‘extreme grief and a sudden heart attack’ right here on the floor.” Martha was so terrified she wet herself. Trembling, she picked up the pen and paper, and shakily scribbled her name at the bottom. The old saying is true: evil is best tortured by evil. Having watched a great show, my mood improved significantly. I quietly put away my phone, which I had been holding up to record for the last five minutes, and walked away with Jessica. 7 Jessica was so creeped out her arm hair was standing up. “Dr. Jenkins… I don’t recall Dr. Evans ever performing a heart transplant before…” “He has.” I thought back. “He assisted me. Standing next to me and handing me tools.” “Since he’s acting so confident, maybe he thinks he’s a genius who can learn a highly complex surgery just by watching it once?” Jessica let out an awkward, nervous laugh. “Dr. Jenkins, you have a very dark sense of humor…” I looked down at my phone, checking an email. Seeing the latest reply, I smiled. “Mark shouldn’t be worrying about how to perform the surgery right now. He should be worrying about finding a donor heart.” “Because I’m sorry to say, my Emily found one first.” Emily and Tommy shared the same rare blood type. In my past life, Tommy was registered first and was higher on the emergency list. When a matching heart was found, Mrs. Carter and Emily actually told me not to feel guilty, and to prioritize Tommy’s surgery. But what I could never have imagined was that the heart—a miracle countless families prayed for—was given to Tommy, who completely wasted it! The mother and daughter’s immense grace was rewarded with the tragedy of “the surgeon was murdered, surgery cancelled.” In this lifetime, no one was taking Emily’s heart away! VIP Room 506. I delivered the news to Mrs. Carter and Emily. Mrs. Carter wept tears of joy, holding my hand and asking over and over to confirm. “Really? Emily can really have the surgery?” “Dr. Jenkins… I… I’m not hearing things, right?” I smiled and nodded, sitting on the edge of Emily’s bed, gently encouraging her. “Emily, don’t be scared. Dr. Sarah is going to prepare very carefully. It won’t hurt at all.” Emily’s soft little hands gripped mine, and she shook her head. “I’m not scared of pain.” “Dr. Sarah, make sure you don’t get too tired, okay?” My heart melted. I looked at Mrs. Carter. “The surgery is scheduled in three days. I will give it everything I have.” A heart transplant is a massive procedure. As soon as I booked the OR, the entire hospital knew. When I was getting into my car to go home, Mark blocked my path in the parking garage. “I heard you found a matching heart?” I ignored his nonsense, trying to close my car door. Mark shoved his hand into the doorframe, speaking with absolute self-righteousness. “Give the OR slot and the donor heart to me. You know how important Tommy’s surgery is to me.” “It’s important to you. Why the hell should I care?” “You’ll give it to me.” Mark looked at me like he had me completely figured out. “Let’s put aside the fact that you’ve loved me for seven years and could never be that ruthless. Just based on your bleeding-heart savior complex, there’s no way you’d sit back and watch Tommy die.” I took a step forward and whispered directly into his ear. “Then you are dead wrong.” “If you and that little brat somehow manage to survive this, I’ll step up and stab you myself.”

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My childhood best friend and the school’s resident bad boy made me confess my love to him fifty times before he would agree to date me. After my 49th failed attempt, I gave up. For my final attempt, I chose to love myself. In a quiet corner of the campus, Carter Hayes, the brilliant chess prodigy who had recently skyrocketed to fame, pulled me into his arms, his voice laced with grievance: “Maya, will you consider me now?” 1 On the college football field, I made my 49th confession to Nolan Pierce. Nolan smiled, patting my head. “Maya, I’m sorry, but I still can’t say yes.” Laughter erupted from the students gathered around us. Chloe Sterling, the school’s reigning queen bee, stood proudly next to Nolan. “Maya, why do you keep doing this to yourself? How many times has it been? If you aren’t tired, we’re definitely tired of watching it.” She playfully slapped Nolan’s shoulder. “And you, couldn’t you be a little gentler with your rejections?” Nolan shrugged helplessly. The casual intimacy between them made them look incredibly close. Nolan stepped forward and slung an arm over my shoulder. “We’re heading out to grab lunch. Want to come with us? Silly girl.” He was always like this. Every time he rejected me, he would immediately give me the illusion that if I just tried a little harder next time, I’d succeed. I subtly shifted my body, slipping out from under his arm. “No thanks. I still have a few case briefs to memorize. I need to go back and study.” Nolan seemed used to me using studying as an excuse to reject his invitations. He let out a cold scoff. “Boring.” Then, he draped his arm around Chloe’s shoulder and walked away. “Boring.” That was the word Nolan used most often with me. “Why do you always wear jeans? You don’t have any feminine charm at all. Boring.” “We’re in college, and all you know how to do is study? You’re like a nerd. Boring.” “Other girls know how to cook, and you don’t? Boring.” And so, I changed my tomboyish personality. I studied less, started wearing dresses, and learned how to make bento boxes. I tried so hard to become the gentle, cute girl Nolan liked. But none of that was the real me. I pulled the ribbon out of my hair and handed the lunch I had spent hours making for Nolan to the janitor sweeping the bleachers. 2 While I was in my dorm memorizing case briefs, I got a text from Nolan. [For your 50th confession, don’t wear the dress you had on today. It’s ugly.] Because I didn’t reply for a while, Nolan sent a second message. [My mom says she hasn’t seen you in a while. Come over for dinner this weekend.] Nolan and I grew up together, and I had liked him for a very long time. During my very first confession, Nolan made a deal with me: once I confessed to him fifty times, he would agree to be with me. But I had also made a decision. After the 49th failure, I would give up. The first 49 times were my pursuit of love. The final time would be my defense of my own dignity. Even if he said yes on the 50th try, our relationship would never be equal. I wanted to be with Nolan, but being with him wasn’t the only goal I had in life. The previous 49 confessions had slowly eroded my feelings for him. I quietly blocked his number and went back to memorizing my briefs. Would Nolan notice? He probably would. After all, in the past, if I didn’t reply, he would just keep texting. But he probably wouldn’t care. With his bad-boy charm and top-tier grades, he certainly wasn’t lacking beautiful girls around him. 3 The next day, I walked into the classroom wearing baggy sweatpants and a hoodie. Nolan was surrounded by Chloe and a few other girls, laughing and joking around. When he saw me, he looked me up and down once, then immediately looked away. Because he liked girls in dresses, I had basically only worn dresses recently. “Maya, I heard you confessed again yesterday, and surprisingly, you got rejected by Nolan again.” Tyler, the guy sitting behind me, suddenly announced loudly. The students around us went quiet, looking like they were ready for a show. I turned my head and caught Nolan looking over from the corner of his eye, but he made no move to stop Tyler. Tyler continued his mocking. “If you ask me, Nolan and Chloe are the perfect match. The handsome guy and the beautiful girl, a match made in heaven. You should stop daydreaming.” I smirked. “So what? What does it have to do with you? Do you have a crush on Chloe?” Tyler stammered, “Y-you don’t talk nonsense. I’m not delusional like you.” “At least when I like someone, I have the guts to go for it openly. Do you?” Tyler was speechless, glaring at me with a face pale from anger. Nolan stepped in to smooth things over. “Alright, alright, class is starting soon. Everyone quiet down.” He shot me a deep look before taking the seat behind me. I turned back to the front and continued reading my textbook. My roommate, sitting next to me, looked at me with starry eyes. “Maya. You’re so cool.” In the past, to maintain the gentle image Nolan liked, I would always silently endure any mocking without responding. I wasn’t going to coddle them anymore. After the first two periods, an announcement came over the PA system. Carter Hayes, a chess prodigy from our major, had just won another international championship. The TVs around campus started playing the interview Carter gave after his victory. Everyone started buzzing with excitement. Because of his tournaments and training, Carter rarely attended classes in person, and he hardly interacted with anyone. People were endlessly curious about him. They wondered why someone so incredible at chess would choose to major in pre-law. 4 My roommate excitedly tapped my shoulder. “Maya, do you know Carter? I saw him from a distance once. His face is unreal.” I nodded. “Yeah, I know him. He’s pretty handsome.” Tyler, overhearing me, scoffed from behind. “Maya, stop bragging. Carter’s barely been to class a few times, how could you possibly know him?” “Or did you realize you couldn’t get Nolan, so you decided to switch targets? Don’t be delusional. Carter would definitely never look twice at you. I actually saw him talking to Chloe once.” Chloe immediately smiled bashfully. “Oh, it was nothing. He’s just very serious, and we’re a bit more familiar with each other. I’ll introduce you guys next time, we’re all classmates after all.” Nolan was playing on his phone next to her, completely ignoring the conversation. He only sneered when Tyler said “Carter would never look twice at you.” I wasn’t lying. I really did know Carter. After all, last night, he had trapped me in a corner and held me in a suffocatingly tight hug. When he found out my 49th confession had failed, Carter immediately hopped on a plane back to campus. By the time he reached my dorm building, you could still see the frantic panic in his eyes. Carter’s hug was so warm, I couldn’t bear to push him away. “Maya, will you consider me now?” Carter’s voice was soft, carrying a mix of hope and grievance. It completely contrasted with his cold, aloof exterior. Once he found out I liked Nolan, he had been waiting for my 49th failure. Waiting for me to give him a chance. I hugged him back. “Let’s see how you do.” Those few words were enough to make the guy in front of me ecstatic, spinning me around in the air several times. While the class was still gossiping, they suddenly saw Carter walk through the classroom door. Everyone went dead silent. One of Chloe’s friends whispered, “Chloe, do you think Carter is here to see you?” Chloe looked thrilled, but played coy. “Don’t be silly.” Carter was wearing a black turtleneck under a trench coat today. The dark clothes made his skin look even paler, and the unapproachable aura around him was even more pronounced. He walked straight to my desk and pulled out two movie tickets. His voice was careful and hesitant. “Last time you said if I won the championship, you’d give me a reward. Let’s go see a movie, okay?” 5 Everyone around us stared in shock. No one could believe I actually knew Carter, let alone had this kind of relationship with him. “Sure. Wait for me at the campus gate after class.” Carter smiled and nodded, ruffling my hair. “Remember to bundle up. You aren’t wearing enough.” Then, looking entirely satisfied, he left. The second Carter left, almost the entire class swarmed my desk, asking how I knew him. Even Tyler shamelessly walked over, hoping I’d introduce him. Carter was his idol. I just smiled and gave a few polite, vague answers. I didn’t care about Nolan’s face, which had turned completely thunderous. In the afternoon, because I was copying down notes, I was the last one to leave. As I packed my bag and headed for the door, Nolan blocked my path. He used his body to block the exit. “Maya, what kind of game is this? Playing hard to get?” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “Nolan, what gives you the right to talk to me like that?” He suddenly smiled, almost like he was conceding defeat, and pulled out two movie tickets, stepping closer. “Weren’t you just trying to force me to watch some boring tearjerker with you? I really don’t understand how girls’ brains work. What’s so great about these movies?” Girls? Right. Nolan always had plenty of girls around him. I took a few steps back. “I’m sorry, I’m busy today. Ask someone else.” I tried to walk away, but Nolan grabbed my wrist from behind. “What is that supposed to mean?” I answered without hesitation. “It means I already have plans with someone else.” The words hung in the air, leaving both of us stunned. Nolan’s smile turned icy. “Maya, holding grudges is boring. “Do you really think I care who you watch a movie with? Trying to use another guy to trigger my competitive side is incredibly childish. “Fine! There are plenty of people who want to watch a movie with me. I don’t need you.” With that, Nolan let go and swaggered away. Actually, I was just stating a fact. I didn’t mean anything else by it. Nolan was overthinking things. 6 A few years ago, when my grandmother passed away, the person I was closest to, Nolan knew how devastated I was. But when I called him, hoping he would come keep me company, Nolan said no. He had already made plans to play basketball with his friends. His exact words to me were: “I already have plans with someone else. I’ll hang out with you tomorrow.” His tone had even carried a hint of impatience. Nolan did come keep me company the next day, but the moment I needed him most had already passed. Maybe he thought I was saying it now as revenge, but I wasn’t that petty. Revenge meant you still cared, and I was slowly learning not to care about him at all. At the campus gate, Carter stood in the snow, his head bowed, leaning against a sleek black sedan. I didn’t know how long he’d been waiting. Even with a mask and a beanie, his 6’2″ frame and innate, aloof aura made him the most conspicuous person in the crowd. When he saw me, Carter’s dark eyes instantly lit up. He stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. I was startled and tried to push him away. He wouldn’t budge. He leaned his lips close to my ear, his voice whining. “Just a hug. I’ve been waiting for you out here forever, I’m freezing to death.” Nolan, who had just walked out of the campus gates, saw the entire thing. His expression shifted slightly, but the next second he morphed back into the joking, laughing guy with his friends. A friend bumped his shoulder, and he just raised an eyebrow indifferently, walking right past us. Carter let go of me quickly and opened the passenger door. In the car, I looked at him curiously. “When did you get your driver’s license? Didn’t George always drive you around?” George was Carter’s manager. Carter’s ears turned bright red. “I just got it last month. I can’t exactly bring a third wheel along when I’m trying to woo a girl, can I?” Hearing that, my face flushed slightly. When we got to the theater, I went to buy popcorn while Carter waited. When I came back, he was surrounded by several girls asking for his Snapchat. Carter shot me a desperate look for help. Suddenly feeling mischievous, I stood where I was. I wanted to see how he’d handle it. Normally, George would have already stepped in to block them. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Carter looked at me with pure affection. He suddenly leaned down, said a few words to the girls, and pointed at me. The girls immediately looked disappointed and walked away. “What did you tell them?” I asked curiously. Carter looked at me pitifully. “I said, my girlfriend is watching me from right over there, and she probably wouldn’t be happy about it.” Hearing that, I blushed and coughed, shoving the bucket of popcorn into his chest before turning and speed-walking into the theater. Carter quickly followed. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was smiling. 7 After the movie, Carter walked me back to my dorm building. Just as I turned to leave, he suddenly pulled down his mask, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pressed his lips to my forehead. A small gift box was slipped into my hand. The second the kiss ended, Carter’s face turned beet red. He practically sprinted back to his car. In his panic, he fumbled with the ignition before finally driving off. My cheeks felt burning hot. I didn’t know if it was windburn from the snow or just plain embarrassment. Back in my dorm, I opened the box. Inside lay a delicate, beautiful bracelet. I looked down at the slightly worn bracelet currently on my wrist. Nolan had given this to me for my 18th birthday. Back then, I had sworn I would wear it for the rest of my life. Later, I found out Nolan had originally bought it for another girl, but she thought it was too cheap and rejected it. Nolan went out and bought her an expensive one instead, and tossed this one to me. It even had the other girl’s initials engraved on it. Thinking back on it now, I unclasped Nolan’s bracelet and put on the one Carter gave me. The next day was Saturday. My family lived locally, so I always went home on weekends if I wasn’t busy. Nolan lived right next door. Our families were close, and we had frequent dinners together. Today was no exception. Nolan’s mom came over early with a mountain of groceries. I hurried over to help her carry them in. Nolan’s parents had always been wonderful to me, so I respected them deeply. Nolan trailed behind his mom, glaring at me coldly. “Oh no, I forgot the jalapeños and garlic. You two run out and grab some for me.” Nolan and I exchanged a look. Without any valid excuse to refuse, we headed out together. On the way, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Carter. A cartoon cat saying: [Miss you]. The corners of my mouth curled up. 8 [Did you get to the airport yet?] Carter had to fly out of state for an intensive training camp today. Once he arrived, his phone would be confiscated. He wouldn’t be able to communicate with the outside world for days. [Just got here.] Carter sent a picture. It was of him kissing my forehead in the snow last night. Following the photo was a voice memo. He sounded cautious. “Maya, George just sent this to me today. I don’t know who took it, but they posted it to the campus Confessions Page. Please don’t be mad, okay?” I tapped the original photo and zoomed in. It clearly showed my profile and Carter’s. I hadn’t realized we were standing so close yesterday. My smile widened, and I casually hit ‘save’. [I’m not mad. Focus on your training.] Carter: [Okay. I’m boarding now. Wait for me.] Followed by a “goofy smiling puppy” sticker. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Was this really the cold, aloof chess prodigy the news always talked about? Suddenly, I noticed the street had gotten noisy. I looked up to see a few girls approaching Nolan, asking for his Snapchat. Nolan glanced at me, then pulled out his phone, smiling brightly. “Sure. It’s my honor to be added by such beautiful girls.” The girls, flattered by his charm, laughed happily and even invited him to hang out. Nolan said he was busy but promised to hit them up next time. Only then did they reluctantly leave. In the past, seeing a scene like this would make me feel miserable and angry. Now, it felt like I was an objective bystander. I just thought Nolan’s smile looked incredibly fake. Nolan suddenly leaned in close. “Jealous?” “No,” I replied flatly. “Take me off your block list, and I’ll delete those two girls right now.” Nolan sounded incredibly confident, like he was sure I would agree. I ignored him. Suddenly, the phone in my pocket was snatched away. “Stop being stubborn. Are you really going to keep me in the penalty box forever? Unblock me, and we can go back to how things used to be.” Nolan held my phone high out of reach. I reached up to grab it, exposing my slender wrist. When Nolan saw the bracelet Carter had given me, his pupils shrank. He violently grabbed my wrist. “Where is your bracelet?” 9 While Nolan was stunned, I snatched my phone back. “I lost it.” “Lost it? Didn’t you say you’d wear it for the rest of your life? Think hard, where did you lose it? We’ll go look for it together.” Nolan grabbed my hand, trying to pull me along to search. I yanked my hand back. “It’s just a piece of junk nobody wanted anyway. Why are you so frantic?” “What do you mean ‘nobody wanted’? I bought that specifically for you.” I really couldn’t stand his hypocritical acting anymore. I couldn’t hold back. “ZWY. The initials engraved on the bracelet. Nolan, do you really still have the nerve to say you bought it specifically for me?” Nolan froze. Maybe even he had forgotten who the bracelet was originally meant for. I turned around. “Go buy the groceries yourself. I’m going home.” When I got home, I went straight to my room. What was supposed to be a good mood had been completely ruined by Nolan. Remembering the Confessions Page Carter mentioned, I went online to check it out. Maybe because it was the weekend and fewer people were online, the photo hadn’t gotten much traction. Just a few comments saying we looked cute together. My mood slowly settled, and I pulled out my textbooks to study, forcing myself to completely forget about the drama. When my parents called me for dinner, I didn’t go out. I just said I was tired and wanted to sleep. Monday morning, I had class, so I headed to campus early. I didn’t know why, but I felt like everyone I passed was staring at me, pointing and whispering. At first, I thought I had accidentally worn my pajamas to school. I looked down. My outfit was perfectly normal. When I walked into the classroom, I saw Nolan holding his phone, looking at me with eyes full of ice. I glanced to the side and saw the picture of Carter kissing my forehead on his screen. A girl sitting near Chloe suddenly announced loudly to her, “Thank God you knew the inside story, Chloe, otherwise we really would have thought that girl was Carter’s girlfriend. Turns out she’s just a desperate stalker.” Chloe smiled bashfully. “Carter and I grew up in the same neighborhood. Our families are close. Both his parents are high-profile lawyers, so he was just raised to be very polite. He doesn’t know how to reject girls who throw themselves at him.” “Carter’s mom has told him off for it a few times, but he’s always worried about hurting girls’ feelings.” Hearing this, I understood what had happened. 10 Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to explain myself, but I just walked to my seat expressionless, pulled out my phone, and checked the Confessions Page. Initially, there were plenty of people commenting that we were a cute couple. But in the middle of the night, an anonymous user posted a massive paragraph claiming I was a stalker obsessed with Carter, constantly harassing him. Many others piled on, claiming they’d seen me following Carter everywhere. They even accused me of two-timing—confessing to Nolan while simultaneously harassing Carter, calling me garbage. The court of public opinion had completely turned against me. Suddenly, a girl sat down next to me. “Maya, you really are just a desperate stalker. First you harassed Nolan, now you’re harassing Carter. I advise you to give up while you can. Carter will never like you. He likes elegant girls from good families, like Chloe.” Others chimed in. “Yeah, if Carter really liked Maya, he would have stepped up to defend her since this blew up so fast. The fact that he hasn’t proves he doesn’t care about her at all.” Chloe walked over to Nolan’s desk and glanced at him. “Don’t talk nonsense, guys. Even if Carter liked me, I’d still have to think about it.” I didn’t respond, just picked up my book and started reading. In a situation like this, explaining was useless. People only believe what they want to believe. Finals were next month. I needed to keep my GPA as high as possible to achieve the goal I had set for next semester. A sudden gasp from Chloe broke my concentration. “Nolan, is this for me? How did you know this is my favorite brand of chocolate?” Sitting on Nolan’s desk was a beautifully wrapped box of chocolates, which Chloe was just about to open. Nolan snatched it away from her. Chloe froze. Nolan patted her head. “Be good. I’ll buy you something even better next time.” Even as oblivious as Chloe was, she understood this wasn’t for her. She looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh, it’s fine. I’m sick of chocolate lately anyway.” Nolan dropped the chocolates onto my desk. “I don’t like sweets anyway, so consider it your lucky day.” Everyone watched in shock. No one expected Nolan to take the initiative to offer an olive branch to me. This was the first time Nolan had ever bowed his head to me. In the past, whenever we fought, I was always the one to apologize. Chloe’s expression was already crumbling, but she forced a strained smile. “Well, with everything that’s happened, Maya probably needs some sugar to help her mood.” I pushed the chocolates away, my voice cold. “My desk isn’t a trash can. Don’t give me things you don’t want.” No one expected me to reject Nolan. Nolan picked up the box, his face flushed with anger, but mindful of the audience, he just gritted his teeth. “Fine!” As if to prove it really was just something he didn’t want, Nolan walked straight to the trash can and threw the chocolates away. Chloe’s face looked even worse. After all, she had just said she wanted those chocolates. Now Nolan threw them in the trash rather than give them to her.

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I came home for the holidays with a busted lip. My childhood friend, who always had a problem with me, smirked. “Did you get bit by a dog again?” With a room full of people staring at me, I said, “My boyfriend bit me.” His face instantly darkened. 1 On the absolute last day of the deadline my mom gave me to come home for the holidays, I finally arrived that evening. The second I walked through the door, I saw my childhood friend, Nate, and his parents sitting in our living room. We locked eyes for a second before Nate put on a mocking smirk. “Avery, did you get bit by a dog again?” When I was five, I insisted on kissing a stray dog and got bitten instead. I had to get three rabies shots. Nate was the one who accompanied me to get the shots, even though he complained the whole time. Since then, it had become his favorite running joke to mock me with. Remembering the story, all the adults in the room chuckled. I reached up and touched my lip. A scab had formed, looking incredibly obvious against my pale skin. Over the sound of their laughter, I spoke up. “No, my boyfriend bit me this morning.” The laughter stopped dead. Under the shocked gazes of everyone in the room, Nate was the only one whose face turned pitch black. Because, once upon a time, our parents used to joke that we were destined to get married. 2 In a silence so quiet you could hear a pin drop, Nate’s mom finally spoke. “Avery, you have a boyfriend now?” I replied politely, “Yes, he’s a senior at my college.” Ignoring Nate’s furious glare, I continued, “He didn’t have time to come with me this trip, but I’ll have him come over after the holidays so we can all get dinner together.” Nate finally snapped, roaring, “Eat my ass!” Then he turned and stormed out to the balcony. Nate’s mom shot me a panicked look and hurried out after him. I shrugged, used to his dramatic outbursts, and pushed my suitcase into my bedroom while the remaining adults exchanged awkward glances. I could hear muffled arguing coming from the balcony. “You were the one who said you’d rather die than marry Avery! Now that she has a boyfriend, why are you throwing a fit?!” After his mom yelled at him, there was a long silence before Nate replied, “I just won’t accept it!” I lowered my eyes and smiled to myself. Three years ago, at a joint family dinner, Nate’s mom joked around and called me her “future daughter-in-law.” To everyone’s shock, Nate blew up. He yelled at his mom for taking the joke too far, then turned his anger on me, calling me shameless for following him around like a lost puppy. He told me to stop bothering him. Nate’s dad slapped him across the face right then and there. And Nate blamed me for the entire humiliation. We had a massive falling out. When it came time to pick colleges, I purposely chose a university in California, as far away from him as possible. I thought our relationship would strictly remain casual acquaintances from then on. So what exactly was he doing now? 3 By the time I changed into my loungewear, Nate was already sitting at the dining table. I didn’t know how his mom managed to calm him down. He didn’t look as furious as he had a few minutes ago. During dinner, everyone deliberately avoided what just happened, sticking to safe questions about my classes. Just as the atmosphere started to relax, my phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, I couldn’t help but smile. “I need to take this. Please, keep eating.” I stepped out into the hallway. It was Connor, my boyfriend. He asked if I was eating. I lowered my voice and asked, “Why did you bite my lip so hard it bled? I didn’t even notice until I got here.” Connor whined on the other end for a solid minute before finally admitting, “I did it on purpose.” Just as I was about to reply, there was a loud BANG from the dining room. I turned my head. Nate was standing there, his face flushed red with impatience. “Are you going to eat or not? If you don’t eat, you’re doing the dishes.” Connor heard him through the phone. “Are you still eating? Should I order you some DoorDash?” Hearing Connor’s voice, Nate’s face turned iron-gray. “Who is that?” I looked up at him, flashed a sweet smile, and said slowly, “My boyfriend.” 4 Connor went silent on the phone for a moment before saying, “Call me tonight. I’ll wait for you~” The line went dead. In the entryway, only silence remained between Nate and me. Nate stared at my bruised lip for a long time before suddenly asking, “How long have you two been dating? You’re already… kissing?” I locked my screen and slid the phone into my pocket. “We’ve been together for almost a year.” I watched his face cycle from black to red. “Why haven’t I ever seen you mention him?” I thought about it. Nate was probably talking about my Instagram. After our falling out, I never blocked or deleted him, but we basically never texted. I rarely posted on social media anyway, never changed my profile picture or bio, and had never posted anything related to Connor. “I forgot to post about it,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets. Nate let out a light scoff. “Looks like you don’t like him that much.” He sounded like he was breathing a sigh of relief. I looked at him, confused. “Why would you say that?” “If you actually liked him, you wouldn’t keep him a complete secret.” I gently clenched my fists. “You’re wrong. I really love him.” I looked up, staring directly into Nate’s eyes, wanting him to know I wasn’t lying. Nate looked down at me. Seeing that I was entirely serious, a flash of anxiety crossed his eyes. I didn’t want to deal with him anymore and turned to leave. As I brushed past him, he asked softly, “How did you move on so fast?” 5 When Nate publicly humiliated me in front of our parents that day, I was truly devastated. When we were kids, we were inseparable best friends. He had even sent me mixed signals before. During high school, reading romance novels was a massive trend among the girls. The classic trope was always the childhood friends turning into lovers. Everyone who knew Nate and me teased us about it, because we fit the trope perfectly. And Nate never expressed any annoyance. He still walked me home from school, bought me hand warmers in the winter, and refilled my water bottle. I genuinely thought he liked me too. But then he delivered that fatal blow right in front of our parents. What was even more heartbreaking was what my desk-mate told me the very next day: “Did you hear Nate and Brooke got together?” Brooke was the undisputed most popular girl in our grade. She had openly crushed on Nate for three years, but he had never reciprocated. At the graduation party after finals, Brooke confessed to Nate again in front of all our teachers. Everyone cheered them on, even the teachers were smiling, but Nate didn’t say yes then. Yet, someone just told me that the day after Nate humiliated me, they started dating. I thought about it and replied, “I know now. I have some stuff to do, talk to you later.” I tried to distract myself by reading a book, but I couldn’t resist opening Instagram. The first thing on my feed was Brooke’s post announcing their relationship. In the photo, she and Nate were leaning their heads together, looking incredibly intimate. I didn’t even have the courage to click on the picture to enlarge it. A few close friends messaged me asking what was going on. At that moment, I was glad I was naturally low-key on social media. Otherwise, as Nate’s “rumored girlfriend” for all those years, I would have had to make some sort of public statement. But a few minutes later, I put my phone down. A single tear dropped onto the open page of the book in front of me. 6 I didn’t have much time to grieve. I had originally promised Nate we would go to the same college on the East Coast, but I was breaking that promise. When applying, I chose a massive university out in California. That summer, encouraged by my parents, I got my driver’s license, learned how to swim, and traveled to a few different states. When your schedule is packed, you realize you don’t actually have time to be sad. My mom said Nate’s dad brought Nate over to our house a few times, but they never caught me. I was either traveling or taking a class. It wasn’t until right before the fall semester, while I was packing my bags with my mom, that I saw Nate again. Nate’s dad looked at me and said, “You got a tan.” I smiled and nodded, saying I had traveled a lot. Nate stood to the side, saying nothing, just glancing at me every now and then. Maybe he was in a bad mood. He didn’t speak the entire time, only giving me a deep, lingering look right before they left. I kept my head down and didn’t look at him. Before going to bed, I opened Instagram and saw an update from Brooke. She posted: “The new girl can never beat the childhood friend. What you can’t have becomes your white rose.” A classmate commented below: “What happened?” Brooke replied: “We broke up.” Seeing that, I finally understood why Nate had looked so miserable earlier that day. They had broken up. But Brooke’s comment—”The new girl can never beat the childhood friend”—confused me. I didn’t recall Nate having any other childhood friends besides me. If this was the past, I would have definitely gone to ask Nate about it. But during that summer, I had made peace with it. From now on, Nate and I would be friends, at best. I didn’t care anymore. On the day I left for college, right before boarding my flight, I turned my phone off early, missing Nate’s text: “Why did you choose to go to California?” 7 College life was incredibly busy. I picked up a minor and my weekends were completely packed. When Nate suddenly messaged me out of the blue, asking me to click a referral link for some sketchy shopping app, I realized how long it had been since I had even thought about him. I replied: “Sorry, I don’t have that app downloaded.” The “typing…” bubble showed up for a long time on his end before he finally sent: “It’s fine.” I had no desire to make small talk with him, so I put my phone down and went back to writing my essay. It wasn’t until the library was closing that I saw he had sent another message: “When does your summer break start?” It was sent five hours ago. I didn’t reply. And now, Nate was standing in front of me, asking how I could move on so fast. A ridiculous thought sprouted in my head, but I immediately squashed it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. Nate didn’t say anything else, and I walked straight back to my room. 8 When I got back to campus, Connor came to the station to pick me up. The moment he saw me, he grabbed my suitcase. “You must be exhausted! I’ll take you to get something good to eat.” While walking, Connor looked a little uneasy. I asked him what was wrong. He mumbled for a bit before saying, “About biting your lip that day… I’m really sorry, I just…” He looked down. “I just felt so insecure.” Connor and I had naturally talked about our past relationships once. I didn’t hide anything and told him about my crush on Nate. At the time, Connor acted like it didn’t bother him, but I caught the panic in his eyes. Just like now—looking wronged and panicked. He was worried I might still have feelings for Nate. So I grabbed his hand. “It’s fine. Treat me to ramen and we’ll call it even.” 9 How Connor and I met was actually pretty magical. The library had closed early that afternoon for a holiday. While I was carrying my books back to my dorm, a small puppy suddenly darted out from the bushes. I made eye contact with it for a few seconds before it ran over and rubbed against my leg. I crouched down and pet its head. And then it just stuck to me. The puppy had a collar, so it clearly wasn’t a stray. With no other choice, I sat there, waiting for its owner to find it. After a few minutes, the puppy started whining and burrowed into my arms. I held it, gently rubbing its belly, and it fell asleep almost instantly. A few minutes later, a guy came running over, looking frantic. He looked at me and the puppy in my arms, put his hands together in apology, and said it was his dog. To show his gratitude, he asked for my number. That guy was Connor. 10 Connor was two years older than me, currently in his first year of grad school. When we first met, he would always use “thanking me for finding his dog” as an excuse to bring me lunch at the library or help me organize my study notes for finals. He quietly and seamlessly infiltrated my life. Even my friends couldn’t stop praising him. But I wasn’t the type to be swayed just because the people around me approved. Nor did I treat Connor differently just because he was handsome. I had already learned my lesson with a pretty face when it came to Nate. What made my heart flutter was a tiny incident. Connor asked me to go to an amusement park. Honestly, this was the first time I had ever gone out alone with a guy. I used to ask Nate to go, but he would always verbally agree and then never actually follow through. When Connor brought me to the park that day, I was in a bit of a daze. In the past, I never would have imagined my first time at an amusement park would be with someone else. Seeing me space out, Connor waved his hand in front of my face. I snapped out of it and smiled at him, but accidentally bumped into a little girl wearing a princess dress. Her ice cream cone fell to the ground. Looking at the little girl’s face, which was about to burst into tears, I panicked. Connor reacted faster than I did. He immediately crouched down to comfort her. “Oh no, where is this little princess from? Princesses don’t cry so easily.” He wiped away a tear that was about to fall with a tissue. “The big sister didn’t bump into you on purpose. Big brother will buy you a brand-new ice cream to make up for it, okay?” Connor looked up and gave me a quick wink. I got the hint, crouched down, and started apologizing. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart! Sister didn’t mean it.” Connor used the distraction to run and buy the exact same ice cream. When he handed it to the little girl, her face lit up. He sweet-talked her a bit more, and she happily walked away. I instinctively froze in place, waiting for Connor to scold me for being clumsy. Because in the past, whenever something like this happened, Nate would always scold me, looking completely annoyed. Nate never seemed to have any patience for me. But Connor just smiled and patted my head. “The little princess is gone. Now, my lady, if we don’t hurry, we’re going to miss the fireworks.” He gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward. He talked the whole way, mentioning he had already checked TikTok to find the best spot to watch the fireworks and take pictures. I stared at him and blurted out, “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Connor stopped and looked at me, seemingly confused as to why I would even ask that. A second later, he flashed a bright smile. “Cinderella lost her glass slipper because she was nervous. It’s actually really cute when Miss Avery is a little clumsy. On campus, you’re always this serious, perfect academic. I never get to see this side of you.” My nose suddenly stung. So, one day, when Connor came to the library to study with me, even though he was sitting right across the table, he slid a piece of paper over to me. It read: “Will you be my girlfriend?” Drawn at the bottom was a crying little puppy. I burst out laughing. I realized then that I had completely stepped out of the shadow Nate had cast over me. The man sitting across from me was emotionally stable and gave me so much security that I could throw myself wholeheartedly into a healthy relationship. So, I wrote “yes” on the paper. 11 Connor was incredibly thoughtful whenever he planned holiday surprises or gifts. He would always check my schedule in advance to make sure his plans wouldn’t stress me out. He would randomly pull a flower out of his coat on the way back from a date, or plan fully-researched weekend getaways. During a long weekend, he took me to a coastal city nearby. We went to the beach I had been dying to visit, and he took a perfect polaroid of us. He placed that polaroid in the clear case on the back of his phone. He took care of everything; there wasn’t a single detail he missed. Our three-day trip was perfect. If it weren’t for the uninvited guest waiting for us when we got back, the joy would have lasted much longer. We were walking hand-in-hand back to my dorm when my roommate called. “Avery, your brother is on campus. The RA wouldn’t let him into the building, so he’s waiting for you downstairs.” I was confused. “What brother?” “I don’t know, he’s tall and handsome. A bunch of girls already asked him for his number.” As we approached my dorm. I spotted Nate in the crowd instantly. He looked over, about to call out to me, when his eyes locked onto our intertwined hands. Nate’s eyes instantly turned red.

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