### My boyfriend had been missing on his business trip for three days, so I finally called 911. Right after I hung up, the doorbell rang. He stood there, holding a bunch of red roses, smiling. “Hey baby, did you miss me?” My entire body froze. Cold sweat broke out across my back. We had a secret code using rose colors. Red roses meant… *Danger. Run.* I stared at his face. It was identical to the one in my memory. But he never said such cheesy things. This man was absolutely not my boyfriend. 1 “Liam?” My voice forced its way out of my throat, sounding as dry as sandpaper. He tilted his head, thrusting the roses into my arms. “Only gone for three days, and you already forgot what I look like?” The thorns pricked my palm. The sharp sting forced me to stay sharp. I stepped aside to let him in, my eyes locked onto his every move. Taking off his shoes, setting down the suitcase, hanging up his coat. Every single movement matched Liam’s habits perfectly. He even remembered the exact spot for the grey slippers on the second shelf of the shoe rack. I bought those slippers just last month. Liam had only worn them twice before he left. “Claire, why do you look so pale?” He turned around, reaching out to touch my forehead. Instinctively, I took half a step back. His hand froze in mid-air, but his warmth quickly returned as a smile. “Are you mad because I went off the grid? The reception out there was terrible, and my phone broke. It took forever to get it fixed.” “Oh, really?” I forced a smile, casually setting the roses on the entryway cabinet. I tried to keep my movements natural, but my fingers were trembling. “Yeah, the project had some last-minute issues. I had to work overtime to pull it off. I wanted to call you sooner, but my phone died. It was driving me crazy. You have no idea—there wasn’t even a decent repair shop nearby. I had to drive forty miles to find one.” He spoke smoothly and naturally, even pulling out his phone to show me. There was indeed a brand-new screen protector on it, with a tiny chip on the corner. The last time Liam dropped his phone, it had chipped in that exact same spot. Even the details matched. I stared at his face. Every feature told me this was Liam. The same brow bone, the same jawline, even the way his left eye squinted slightly more than his right when he smiled. Yet, the cold sweat on my back refused to dry. “I’m gonna take a shower. I smell like outdoor sweat,” he said, patting my shoulder before heading toward the bedroom. I leaned against the wall, my heart hammering so hard it felt like it would burst. Before Liam left for his trip, we had one last phone call. His voice had been incredibly low, as if he was terrified of being overheard. He had said, “Claire, if there ever comes a day when I tell you to run, don’t ask questions. Just run.” I asked him why. He was silent for a long time—so long that I thought the call had dropped. Then he said, “Because my dad didn’t run in time.” Liam’s father was a cop who died in the line of duty ten years ago. Liam never brought it up, always avoiding the subject. Over time, I stopped asking. But now, I was beginning to doubt everything. I pulled out my phone and opened the call log. Three minutes ago, I had dialed 911. It rang twice, and then I hung up. If the man in the other room wasn’t Liam, where was the real Liam? And if I called the cops now, what would I tell them? I had absolutely no proof. He hadn’t made a single slip-up. No, wait. He did. The red roses. — ###

2 During our second year together, we were curled up on the couch watching a crime show. The characters in the show used flower colors as secret codes to pass messages. Liam was fascinated. He turned to me and said, “Let’s make one too. Red roses mean danger, white means safe, and yellow means be careful.” I thought he was being overly dramatic at the time, but I played along and nodded anyway. That agreement was a secret only Liam and I shared. If the man in my house wasn’t Liam, why did he bring red roses? Unless… This slip-up was left for me on purpose. The sound of running water came from the bathroom, mixing with the rapid thudding of my heart. I quietly pushed open the bedroom door. Liam’s suitcase was open on the floor. His clothes were folded neatly. He always traveled like this—every shirt rolled into the exact same shape, lined up perfectly in the suitcase. I knelt down, my fingers shaking as I rummaged through the side pockets. His passport, a charger, a half-used pack of tissues. Nothing. Just as I was about to stand up, my eyes caught a piece of fabric peeking through the closet door. I pulled the closet door open. It was the grey jacket Liam wore before he left. He had owned this jacket for years. The cuffs were starting to fray, and though I offered to buy him a new one, he insisted this was his most comfortable piece. I reached my hand into the pocket. My fingertips brushed against something soft and slightly damp, like it had been sitting there for days. I pulled it out. It was a red rose petal. The petal was slightly withered, its edges curling and turning a dark, bruised color, as if it had been soaked in something. Written on it in black ink were two words: *RUN.* The handwriting was messy and rushed. The last stroke of the ‘N’ dragged out long, as if he had been interrupted mid-write. I recognized this handwriting. It was Liam’s. His handwriting was just like him—seemingly neat and orderly, but if you looked closely, the final stroke of every word always flicked upward. The water in the bathroom stopped. I quickly shoved the petal back into the jacket pocket, shut the closet door, pushed the suitcase back to its exact spot, and retreated to the living room. Just as I sat down on the couch, he walked out, drying his hair with a towel. He had changed into loungewear—a grey T-shirt and dark blue shorts. They were all Liam’s clothes, and they fit him perfectly. “Claire, can you check if I left my charger brick in the suitcase? I can’t find it,” his voice called out from the bedroom, carrying the lazy warmth of someone who had just showered. I called back an answer and stood up to walk over. His back was turned to me as he rummaged through the suitcase, exposing the skin of his neck. The overhead light was bright—bright enough for me to see every detail of his skin. I stared at his neck, and my heart seized. — ###

3 Liam had a mole on the back of his neck. It was tiny and very light. You wouldn’t notice it unless you were looking closely. The only reason I knew about it was because we were messing around on the couch once, and my nail accidentally grazed it. He flinched, laughing, and told me that was his most ticklish spot. The man in front of me didn’t have it. The mole was completely gone. There were no scars from laser removal either. It was as if the mole had never existed in the first place. My fingers started to tremble. I hid my hands behind my back, clenching my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The pain cleared my head a little. “Find it?” He turned around, his eyes scanning my face. I forced a smile. “No. Did you leave it at the hotel?” That smile took every ounce of my energy. My face felt stiff, but I knew if I didn’t smile, he would notice. He frowned. The angle of his brow, the expression—it was identical to Liam’s. “Maybe. I’ll call them later. The hotel staff seemed nice, so they probably found it.” He stood up and stepped closer to me. A drop of water from his wet hair fell onto the back of my hand. “Claire, did you miss me?” His warm breath brushed against my ear. I froze, the blood in my veins turning to ice. “Of course I did,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “Then why aren’t you hugging me?” He opened his arms, offering a warm, gentle smile. The exact same smile Liam always gave. Every time Liam came back from a trip, he would open his arms like this and say those exact words. It was our little routine, starting from our very first year. I stepped forward and lightly wrapped my arms around his waist. His body was warm. His heartbeat was steady and strong, pulsing against my palm through his thin T-shirt. But all I wanted to do was throw up. “You lost weight,” he said, stroking my hair with genuine concern. “Just stressed at work.” I buried my face in his chest to hide my expression. His chest smelled like body wash—the exact brand I used. Liam never used that brand. He complained it was too floral and always used unscented soap. But this man used it. Did he not know Liam’s preference, or was it intentional? Liam, where the hell are you? Who is this man? He made dinner that night. Garlic butter pasta, roasted asparagus, and grilled chicken. These were Liam’s signature dishes, and they tasted exactly the same. “Eat up. Look how thin you’ve gotten.” He placed some chicken on my plate. He was holding his fork in his left hand. Liam was a lefty. He wrote with his left hand, ate with his left hand, and shot hoops with his left hand. I used to tease him about being a lefty freak, and he’d joke that left-handed people had more developed right brains, making them smarter than average. I kept my head down, shoving pasta into my mouth as my mind raced. How long had this man watched him? How long did it take to copy Liam’s habits to this degree? Many of these details weren’t things you could learn just by watching from afar. Unless he and Liam had lived together. “By the way,” he said suddenly. “Did you call the police?”

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The day my mother was wheeled into the ICU, Ethan Sinclair didn’t lend me a single cent. He said:”My money is for venture capital, not for throwing money into a black hole.” “I sent you those personal loan platforms with low interest rates. Figure it out yourself.” I crouched in the hospital corridor clutching the insurance denial letter, but I could hear him standing by the window on a phone call. “The five million in seed funding has already been wired to your account.” “Even if it’s a loss, it’s on me. Consider it a learning experience for you.” That was his company’s fresh-out-of-college management trainee. I gripped the letter so tight my nails dug into my palms. Ethan turned around and saw me standing there calmly. No crying, no scene, no more begging. He nodded approvingly: “That’s more like it. Stop acting like a child running to someone else every time something goes wrong.” “Learning to be independent is being responsible for yourself.” I said a quiet “mm.” He didn’t look at me again. He turned and left. In that moment, I finally understood. When someone truly gives up, they don’t cry. They don’t scream. They don’t even have the strength to demand answers. I reached into my bag and pulled out the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago. Stroke by stroke, I signed my name. From now on, he was him. And I was me. …… By the time Ethan came home, it was nearly one in the morning. I sat in the living room. In front of me were the hospital bills, the critical condition notice. And the signed divorce agreement. He walked in, saw me, and only frowned. “Why are you still up this late?” I looked up at him. “My mother is still in the ICU.” He hung up his coat and walked to the bar counter to pour water. “I know.” His tone was as calm as if he were commenting on the weather. “But proper rest can help you solve the problem better.” I stared at the glass in his hand, and suddenly thought of that afternoon in the hospital corridor. The way I’d looked when I begged him for money. I’d said: “Ethan, thirty thousand dollars. Just to save her life.” He’d said: “Amber, people have to learn to accept reality.” Then he’d turned around and wired five million to Nora Chase. I thought I was already numb, but seeing him come home as if nothing had happened— something still slammed hard against my chest. Ethan finished his water. His gaze fell on the table. “What’s all this?” “Divorce papers.” His movements froze. A few seconds later, he looked as if he’d heard some absurd joke. “Amber, what are you throwing a fit about now?” I pushed the papers toward him. “I’ve already signed.” He didn’t pick them up. He just looked down at the words, his eyes going cold by degrees. “Because I didn’t lend you money?” “No.” My voice was very soft. “It’s because I finally realized today—you’re not broke, and you’re not incapable of helping people.” “You just won’t help me.” Ethan’s expression darkened. “The Nora project is a company investment. It’s not personal.” “I’ve seen the contract.” I looked at him. “Wired from a personal account. Personal guarantee. You cover the losses.” “You call that a company investment?” A flash of impatience crossed his eyes. “You went through my things?” I smiled. So his first reaction wasn’t to explain. It was to blame me for finding out. Ethan set the glass down hard on the table. “Amber, you’re out of control right now. I’m not discussing this with you.” “Your mother’s situation—I understand. But you can’t take your stress out on me just because you’re under pressure.” I looked at him. “She’s the woman you called ‘Mom’ for six years.” Ethan looked away. “I never said I wouldn’t help.” “I just don’t think we should throw money into something with no foreseeable outcome.” After he said it, as if realizing how harsh it sounded, he added: “I can help you find specialists. Help you ask around for resources.” “But the money—you need to figure that out yourself.” I suddenly felt my stomach lurch. I stood up, picked up the divorce papers, and slid them into the folder. “Tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock. Your attorney’s office. We sign together and file uncontested.” Ethan stared at me for a long time. “Amber, if you leave me, how will you pay for your mother’s treatment?” The moment those words landed, my fingers clenched hard. He knew exactly what I feared most. And exactly what I needed most. So he used it to force me to submit. I looked up at him. “I’ll figure it out myself.” Ethan seemed stung by my resolve. His expression turned even colder. “Then don’t come crawling back to me.” I said nothing more. I turned and went to the bedroom. Before I closed the door, I heard him answer a call in the living room. His voice dropped much lower. “Nora, I’ve read through the materials.” “Don’t worry. I’ll be there with you for tomorrow’s pitch.” I shut the door, leaned against it, and slowly sank to the floor. A dull ache pulsed in my lower abdomen. I’d been so consumed with my mother these past few days, I never went back for the follow-up. A reminder from the hospital still sat unread in my phone. [Ms. Thorne, you are currently 7 weeks pregnant. Please schedule your prenatal checkup.] I stared at that line for a long time. Then I pressed the screen dark.

The next day, Ethan didn’t show up at his attorney’s office. I waited for him two hours. I called. He didn’t answer. It wasn’t until eleven-thirty that he finally sent a message. [Nora has her investor pitch today. Can’t step away.] The next one popped up right after. [If you really want this divorce, file a petition yourself.] I stood outside the attorney’s building, still holding the unsigned papers. Wind swept up from the street below, stinging my eyes. I didn’t reply. I went to the hospital. The doctor said my mother’s condition had worsened. Insurance had denied coverage for the experimental treatment she needed, and the out-of-pocket cost was crushing. Without it, they could only keep her on the basic protocol. “The family really needs to sort out the funding for the advanced treatment. The longer you wait, the greater the risk.” I looked down and said okay. I listed my premarital studio apartment for an emergency sale and maxed out my credit cards. The realtor went quiet for a few seconds when he heard my asking price. “Ms. Thorne, this is way below market value.” “Can it close today?” “It can, but—are you sure?” I said: “I’m sure.” After I hung up, I crouched in the hospital stairwell, palms slick with cold sweat. A notification popped up on my phone. Nora Chase had posted something new on Instagram. In the photo, she stood on the pitch stage in a white blazer. Ethan sat in the front row, looking up at her with a patience I hadn’t seen from him in a very long time. The caption read: [Starting my first venture with someone who has my back. So this is what it feels like to be chosen.] Someone commented below: [Mr. Sinclair is so generous.] Nora replied: [He just said he didn’t want to see me lose too badly.] I stared at those words, my fingertips going cold inch by inch. That afternoon, Ethan came to the hospital. He stood in the corridor, suit impeccably pressed, holding a stack of papers. “My assistant put this together. Loan platforms.” “A few of them have decent limits. Should help you bridge the gap.” I stared at the papers. I didn’t take them. He pressed them into my hands. “The money situation—that’s your call.” Then he turned and left. I looked down at the loan application forms in my hands, tore them up one by one, and dropped the pieces into the trash. A few minutes later, a nurse came running. “Ms. Thorne, your mother’s blood pressure is dropping. The doctor needs you to sign off immediately.” My legs buckled. I grabbed the wall just in time to keep from falling. The pain in my lower abdomen flared again. This time, sharper than last night.

They worked on my mother for four hours. When the doctor came out, his mask was still on. “She’s stable for now.” “But she needs the advanced treatment protocol. Without it, we can only do so much.” I nodded. My throat was too dry to speak. The apartment sale closed that same evening. Fire-sale price. The buyer barely hesitated. The moment the funds hit my account, I called the hospital’s financial counselor to authorize the treatment. She glanced up at me from her desk. “Just you, then? No other family?” I said mm. “Your husband?” I didn’t answer. In that moment, I felt a sudden, sharp humiliation. I was married. Yet I was like a person with no one in the world. That night, I went back to the house to get my documents. The moment I pushed open the door, I heard a woman’s laughter in the living room. Nora Chase was sitting on the sofa. In front of her was a celebration cake. Ethan was cutting her a slice. When she saw me, Nora jumped to her feet immediately. “Amber! You’re back.” She said it sweetly. But around her neck hung a diamond pendant. I recognized that pendant. Last month, on my birthday, I’d lingered at the jewelry counter for a moment too long. Ethan had said: “The markup on those things is ridiculous. That’s not your style.” Now it was on Nora’s neck. Ethan frowned at me. “Why are you back?” I looked at him. “This is my home.” Nora’s expression froze for a second. Ethan set the cake knife down. “Nora’s pitch went well today. I brought her back to grab some files.” “And to celebrate, while we’re at it.” While we’re at it. My mother lay in the hospital with tubes in her body. I’d sold my apartment to scrape together the money. And he was here, in our home, celebrating with another woman. Nora ducked her head, voice soft. “Amber, please don’t misunderstand.” “Mr. Sinclair was just worried I’d be nervous for my first fundraise, so he encouraged me.” She touched the pendant at her throat. “This was a team reward. It’s not what you think.” I walked over and looked at the writing on the cake box. It read: [To Nora — First victory down, limitless future ahead.] The handwriting was Ethan’s. He’d once told me even a birthday cake was an unnecessary expense. Said that kind of sentimentality was pointless. I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell. I just went to the bedroom, opened the drawer, and collected my documents. Ethan followed me in. “Who exactly are you putting on this face for?” I gathered my passport, my Social Security card, and my important papers into my bag. “Move.” He blocked the doorway. “Amber, you’re becoming completely unreasonable.” “Nora is so much younger than you. She’s out here in this city with no one. As her superior, is it so wrong for me to look after her?” I looked up at him. “My mother is alone in the ICU too.” “Have you looked after her?” He was caught short. His expression quickly turned cold again. “Your mother’s situation is different from hers.” “How is it different?” “Nora still has a future.” After those words left his mouth, the room went silent. Ethan seemed to realize it himself. But he didn’t apologize. He just turned his face away and said quietly: “What I mean is—investment has to factor in return.” I looked at him. My chest felt as though something had been carved out of it with a blade. My mother had no future. So she wasn’t worth it. I had no future either. So I didn’t deserve it. I picked up my bag and walked past him. In the living room, Nora was eating cake with a fork. Seeing me, she seemed to gather her courage and said softly: “Amber, honestly? A woman really should be more independent.” “You can’t rely on a man for everything.” I stopped. Ethan stood behind me. He said nothing to stop her. I looked at Nora, and I actually laughed. “Did he teach you that line?” Her face flushed. I nodded. “Then remember it well.” “The day he decides you have no return on investment either, you’ll hear that exact same speech.” Nora’s smile froze. Ethan’s voice cut in, cold: “Amber. That’s enough.” I didn’t look back. On my way downstairs, a sharp, dragging pain pulled through my lower abdomen. I braced myself against the elevator wall and stayed there a long time. My palms were drenched in sweat. My phone rang. It was the hospital. “Ms. Thorne, your mother’s condition has deteriorated again. Please come back immediately.” My vision went black. I nearly collapsed right there in the elevator.

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Three years ago,at our engagement party at the Plaza Hotel,my future sister-in-law,Scarlett,made a flippant bet.She dared her godfather—my fiancé,Julian Thorne—to give me an unforgettable“surprise”in front of all of New York’s high society. To make his precious goddaughter laugh,Julian walked out in the middle of my speech.He chuckled to his friends: “She’s a pushover.Let her cool off for a few days,buy her a bag,and she’ll get over it.” His friends whistled and jeered,mocking me as just another gold digger trying to marry into a rich family,claiming I could never survive without the Thorne family’s protection. Scarlett even walked onto the stage and“accidentally”spilled red wine on my white Vera Wang gown,then exchanged a knowing smile with Julian across the room. Amidst countless looks of pity and contempt,I was unnaturally calm. From a distance,Julian raised his glass and mouthed to me: “That’s the kind of poise a Thorne matriarch should have.Wait for my call at home.” Hearing that,I just felt a sense of absurdity. Poise? No.I was just numb. Three years later,Julian blocked the street in front of my art gallery with a fleet of black Cadillacs and a massive yellow diamond,staging a grand,dramatic proposal: “Are you done being angry,darling?I’m here to keep my promise.” I didn’t even spare him a glance,carefully shielding my very pregnant belly. “Excuse me,please move.My husband is waiting for me at my prenatal appointment.” … “Hiring someone to make a custom silicone belly for this act?Is this really necessary,Evelyn?” Julian Thorne stood with one hand in his trouser pocket,his gaze casually sweeping over my swollen abdomen. His tone was full of certainty and the kind of innate arrogance that came with being a Wall Street titan. I met his gaze without flinching. “Mr.Thorne,please move.” The entrance to the Sotheby’s building,where I worked,was completely blocked by his six gleaming black Cadillacs. Drones flew overhead,holding a giant banner that read“Evelyn,Marry Me Again”in a fancy script. A crowd of office workers and tourists was gathering,their whispers reaching my ears. Julian didn’t care.He stepped forward,holding out a bouquet of Ecuadorian red roses. “It’s been three years.Your cooling-off period should be over.” He stared at me.“You know I hate it when women make a scene,but for you,I’ve already made an exception and given you three years.”

I looked at the vibrant roses. Three years ago,when I was at a private clinic getting an IV for a pollen allergy,he had his assistant send me the exact same flowers. He’d said on the phone that Scarlett picked them out and told me not to be ungrateful. I didn’t reach for them. I just placed a hand on my belly and took a small step back. “Julian,I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I looked him in the eyes,my voice soft. “I’m married.And I’m five months pregnant.” Julian let out a short laugh. He casually tossed the bouquet to his assistant. “You’d even make up a lie like this just to get me to bow down?” He took a blue Tiffany box from his suit pocket and snapped it open. Inside was a yellow diamond ring worth an estimated ten million dollars. “I owe you a ceremony from the engagement party three years ago.I’m making it up to you today.” He didn’t even get on one knee.He just held the box out. “Put it on.My assistant will take you to pick out a wedding dress tomorrow.This time,I promise I’ll see it through to the end.” He said it so matter-of-factly,as if he were doing me a huge favor. I looked at the brilliant diamond,feeling nothing. At the party three years ago,he abandoned me on stage for Scarlett’s childish bet,in front of all our business partners and the city’s elite. His goddaughter,Scarlett,had stepped on my gown with her high heel,leaving a clear footprint. What did he say then? He said I had poise and told me to wait for him at home. That night,I took off the dress alone,cut off the stained hem,and threw it,along with the engagement ring,into the Hudson River. From that moment on,the name Julian Thorne was dead to me. “I don’t need it.” I walked around him,heading for the street.

Julian’s brow finally furrowed. He reached out to grab my wrist. I sidestepped,and his hand met empty air. “That’s enough,Evelyn.” His voice grew heavy with a warning tone. “My patience is limited.Who are you putting on this act for?” Just then,his phone rang. It was a special ringtone.A girl’s saccharine voice whined,“Julian,did you get Evelyn?I think I have a fever,I feel so dizzy…” It was Scarlett. Julian’s expression softened instantly. He replied with a voice message. “Sweetie,take some medicine.I’ll bring her back to see you soon.” After sending the message,he looked back at me. “Scarlett is sick,and she’s still worried about you.You shouldn’t be so hostile towards her.” His tone was chiding. “What happened three years ago was just a joke.She’s young and doesn’t know any better.As her sister-in-law,are you really going to hold a grudge this long?” I looked at his self-righteous expression and suddenly felt a wave of nausea. It was a normal part of pregnancy,but this man’s presence made it worse. I took a deep breath,trying to calm my stomach. “Julian,do you not understand English?” I pointed to a Lincoln sedan waiting for a passenger by the curb. “My husband is waiting for me at the clinic.Get out of my way.” Julian’s face turned to ice as he stared at my stomach. “Evelyn,are you ever going to stop?Do you have to use such cheap tricks to humiliate me?”

“Cheap tricks?” I repeated the words,finding them laughable. “Think whatever you want.” I was done arguing with him.I walked straight to the Lincoln. I opened the door and eased myself in,protecting my belly. Julian quickly slammed his hand on the door to stop it from closing. “Which clinic?I’ll take you.” He looked down at me. “I want to see for myself which bum you hired to play this part with you.” I stared coldly at his hand on the car door. “Let go.” “Evelyn,don’t push it.” His patience seemed to have run out.He opened the passenger door and sat down. Defeated,I gave the driver the name of a top-tier private OB-GYN clinic on the Upper East Side. The driver glanced at me,then at the imposing figure of Julian,and hesitated. Julian pulled a few hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and tossed them on the dashboard. “Drive.” The car pulled smoothly into the Manhattan traffic. The silence in the car was suffocating. Julian leaned back,turning his head to look at me. “You used to be afraid of needles.Now you’re wearing a fake belly just to spite me?” His gaze scrutinized my abdomen. “Take it off.Aren’t you hot in that thing?” I zipped my coat up to the collar and closed my eyes,ignoring him.

Half an hour later,the car stopped in front of the clinic. I got out,and Julian followed close behind. The private clinic’s lobby was quiet and luxurious. I went to the front desk and gave them my appointment information. Julian stood behind me,watching as the nurse handed me my maternity chart. His eye twitched,but he quickly regained his composure. “You’ve really committed to the act.” He sneered. I took the chart and walked to the elevator.He followed me,step for step. On the third floor,in the VIP waiting area,I found an empty seat. Just as I sat down,the elevator doors opened again. Scarlett emerged,wearing Jimmy Choos and carrying a bouquet of white lilies. She spotted us immediately and hurried over. “Julian,Evelyn.” She held the bouquet of white lilies—the flowers of mourning—in front of me,a look of innocent delight on her face. “I heard you were pregnant,so I came to congratulate you.” The strong scent of the lilies hit me,and I couldn’t help but sneeze. Julian immediately frowned at Scarlett. “She’s allergic to pollen.Get those away from her.” Scarlett bit her lip,looking hurt. “Oh,I’m so sorry,Evelyn.I forgot.I was just so happy for you.” She placed the flowers on the empty seat next to her and sat down beside Julian. “But Evelyn,getting married so quickly?” Scarlett eyed my stomach. “The baby’s already so big.You didn’t just marry some random guy to get back at Julian,did you?” She giggled,covering her mouth. “And for such an important appointment,why isn’t your husband here with you?” “He didn’t just leave you here all alone,did he?How irresponsible.”

Julian listened without saying a word. Instead,he looked at me,as if waiting for my reaction. “Her husband’s busy.He doesn’t have time for her,”Julian answered for me,his voice dripping with mockery. “How dedicated can you expect a hired actor to be?” I watched them,their words a coordinated attack,and felt surprisingly calm. This was the man I had loved for seven years. He watched as others humiliated me,not only refusing to help but joining in. “Is there an Evelyn Reed here?”a nurse called out,holding a chart. “Here,”I said,standing up. The nurse looked at me,then at Julian and Scarlett behind me. “A family member needs to be present to sign some forms.Who is the patient’s family?” Julian instinctively stepped forward. “I am.” I turned and cut him off coldly. “He’s not.”

The nurse paused,her eyes darting between Julian and me. Julian’s hand,which had been reaching for the chart,froze in mid-air. His face darkened. “Evelyn,stop it.” He lowered his voice,a clear warning in his tone. “This is a hospital,not a place for you to throw a fit.” I didn’t look at him.I addressed the nurse. “I don’t know them.They’re just strangers.My husband is on his way.” The nurse nodded and took the chart back. “Okay,then please wait out here for your husband.Some of these documents must be signed by your spouse.” The nurse turned and went back into the exam room. Julian slowly lowered his hand,jamming it into his pocket. He looked at me,his eyes turning dangerous. “Strangers?” He let out a cold laugh. “Three years and you’ve grown bold.Now I’m not even allowed to be your family?” Scarlett saw his anger and quickly stood up,grabbing his arm. “Julian,don’t be mad.” She turned to me,her eyes instantly welling up with tears. “Evelyn,are you still upset about that joke from three years ago?” She sniffled,her voice full of grievance. “I just made a little bet with Julian that day to liven things up.” “Who knew you couldn’t take a joke and would just run away from home.” She called his abandonment a joke,and my heartbreak an inability to take one.

I looked at her pitiful face and found it absurd. “Using an engagement party for a bet was a joke?” I looked at Julian. “Leaving me alone on stage in front of all of New York’s high society and the media was a joke?” I turned back to Scarlett. “Staining my dress,pulling off my veil,and mocking me for being a social climber was also a joke?” Scarlett flinched and hid behind Julian. Julian’s brow was tight as he protectively shielded her. “That’s enough,”he snapped. “Scarlett was spoiled growing up;she can be thoughtless.You’re older than her.Can’t you be a little more generous?” He looked at me with disapproval. “It was a small thing,and you’ve held a grudge for three years.Evelyn,you were never this petty.” Never this petty?I stared at him. I had spent two weeks working sleepless nights to plan that engagement party,personally overseeing every detail. I waited until two in the morning for him to try on his suit,only to be told he was“too busy.” I thought our engagement was the start of our happiness.Instead,it was a cup of poison he handed me himself. “Julian.” I said his name softly. “Do you really think that all you have to do is snap your fingers,and I’ll come crawling back with no self-respect?” Julian’s gaze flickered. “I never said that.I just don’t think you needed to marry some random guy to spite me.” He paused,his tone softening slightly. “This supposed husband of yours can’t even show up for a prenatal appointment.Does he really know you better than I do?” He even remembered my old habits. “You’re afraid of getting your blood drawn;you always needed someone to coax you.Does he know that?” I looked at his self-proclaimed deep affection and found it pathetic. “He doesn’t need to know.” I touched my belly. “Because he would never make me face these things alone.” The exam room door opened again. The nurse came out with a stack of papers. “Ms.Reed,this is your initial intake report.Please confirm the information.” She handed the file to me. Julian,using his height advantage,glanced over the report. His eyes suddenly froze on the signature line for the spouse. A name was signed there in a strong,confident script. It was undeniably a man’s name.

The color drained from Julian’s face. “You’d even forge medical records to trick me?” He looked up,his eyes filled with disbelief and rage. “Forging medical documents is a felony,Evelyn.Have you gone insane?” He reached out,trying to snatch the report from my hands. I turned,protecting the documents against my chest. “Mr.Thorne,have some self-respect.” I looked at him coldly. “This is my private information.It has nothing to do with you.” Julian’s hand hung in the air,his fingers twitching slightly. He gritted his teeth,his chest heaving. “Fine.Great.” He laughed coldly again and again. “I’m going to see for myself what kind of coward this is,who doesn’t even dare to show his face.” At that moment,Scarlett,who was standing nearby,suddenly cried out,“Oh!”and stumbled towards me. “I twisted my ankle!” She yelled,her arms flailing as she fell directly at me. The waiting area hallway wasn’t wide. Behind me was a row of hard,wooden chairs. Seeing her fall towards me,I instinctively wrapped my arms around my protruding belly and tried to back away. With a dull thud,my lower back slammed hard against a chair’s metal armrest. A searing pain shot through me.

Immediately after,my abdomen began to tighten. I gasped,a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Clutching the chair,I slowly slid to the floor. “Evelyn!” Julian cried out. He didn’t move to help me first. Instead,he instinctively caught the falling Scarlett,holding her securely in his arms. “Julian,it hurts so much…”Scarlett whimpered in his embrace,tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean to.I just lost my balance.” Julian soothed Scarlett while frowning at me. “Evelyn,you knew she twisted her ankle.Why didn’t you help her?” His voice was thick with blame. “Why did you dodge?So what if you got bumped?Did you have to sit on the floor and be so dramatic?” I clutched my stomach,too much in pain to even speak. The tightening in my abdomen grew more intense,and a terrible sense of foreboding washed over me. The nurse heard the commotion and rushed over. “What happened?Why is the patient on the floor?” Seeing my pale face,the nurse immediately hit the emergency button on the wall. “We need help in here!Get a gurney!The patient is showing signs of premature labor!” The hallway instantly descended into chaos.

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For three years, I raised the bastard my serpent husband had fathered with my own younger sister. Because I believed he was mine. Three years ago, I suffered an accident while pregnant. When I woke up, the pup inside me was gone. My husband showed me paperwork from a shifter hospital and told me my body could no longer carry the baby, but my sister had agreed to act as my surrogate and preserve my bloodline. He said the child growing inside her carried my blood. He said she was only giving birth to him for me. So no matter how much I hated her, I endured it. When my sister cramped during heat, I brewed medicine for her. When pregnancy made her ears painfully sensitive and kept her awake at night, I brushed the knots from her snow-leopard fur and sat beside her bed. When she went into labor, I knelt outside the delivery room for an entire day and night. The little snake she gave birth to curled around my wrist, lifted his wet, innocent slit-pupiled eyes to me, and called me Mommy. Meanwhile, his real mother took my husband into the mating den that should have belonged to me every single night. Three years ago, I caught them in bed. In a rage, I slapped them both. My husband was a black-and-gold king cobra. He offered no explanation and showed no guilt. He only wrapped his freezing tail around my ankle and told me that the shock I had caused had sent my father and brother into severe feral episodes. They had been committed to the highest-security shifter containment facility in the country. If I ever touched my sister again, he would make sure they died in there wearing suppression collars. For my father, my brother, and the hatchling I believed was my own flesh and blood, I lowered my snow-leopard ears and endured three years of humiliation. Only after the hatchling’s first-moon celebration did I dare ask my husband to release my family. He lounged behind his desk, his black tail draped over the edge, and opened a video call. My father was holding the hatchling. My brother sat beside my sister, gently brushing out her white tail. They had never been committed. For three years, they had been with her the entire time. They watched me care for her. Watched me raise her child. Watched me submit because I was terrified of what might happen to them. Then my husband casually told me the truth. My father and brother had been the ones who delivered my sister to his mating den in the first place. The hospital records were fake. The surrogacy was fake. My baby had died in that accident three years ago. The little snake I had cherished and raised was the bastard my husband had conceived with my sister. They had even placed bets on how I would react once I found out. My sister bet I would trash the office. My father bet I would hurt myself. My brother bet I would demand they send her away. My husband bet I would cling to his tail and beg him not to abandon me. Laughter poured through the phone. My silver ears slowly flattened beneath the sound. But I did not scream. I did not beg. I wiped away my tears and lifted my head. “If you want to compensate me, give me one hundred million dollars.” For the first time, my husband’s smile froze. Then I named my price for the others. Fifty million from my father. Thirty million from my brother. Three years of servitude. Ten years of marriage. Every time I had called them Dad and Brother. I was willing to sell all of it. Once the money arrived, we would be even. My father and brother called me greedy and vulgar. They said I was unworthy of the snow-leopard bloodline. My sister pressed herself against my husband, her soft ears lowered as she pretended to plead on my behalf. My husband opened a drawer and pulled out a bond-dissolution agreement. My sister had given birth to a male serpent heir. Only a son born to a legally registered mate could enter the main bloodline and inherit his corporate empire. So he intended to dissolve our marriage, register my sister as his mate, and legitimize the hatchling. He told me it was nothing more than paperwork. His fangs had already marked the back of my neck. His mating venom still lived in my blood. Once the hatchling was entered into the family registry, he would divorce my sister and bring me home again. “You will always be my mate.” That was what he said. I picked up the pen and signed my name without hesitation.

My husband could not believe I had agreed to dissolve our bond so easily. He stared at my lowered ears and asked whether money was truly all I cared about. He even pulled the agreement halfway out of my reach and told me that if I begged, he would tear it up on the spot. But all I could remember was the night I lost my baby three years ago. I had been five months pregnant, curled alone inside our mating den while pain tore through my body. My snow-leopard tail wound so tightly around the bedpost that my muscles cramped. Sweat soaked the fur around my ears. I called my husband seventeen times. He never answered. He returned at dawn. My sister’s sweet heat scent clung to his collar, and the black scales along his throat were still warm from mating. I was lying in a bed soaked with blood. He did not hold me. He did not ask whether I was in pain. He only frowned and ordered the servants to clean the blood before my sister smelled it. She was pregnant, he said. Blood would upset her. Later, he brought me forged hospital documents and claimed that although my body could no longer carry our child, my sister had “saved” the pregnancy. I believed him. I had even been grateful to her. Only now did I understand that the child he had been worried about that night was never mine. It was the baby growing inside my sister. Even now, he still believed I would never truly leave. He promised that once the hatchling entered the bloodline registry, he would restore my title as Serpent Consort and move me back into the main residence. I pretended to believe him and asked him to book me a flight to the mountains. There was a lake there we had promised to visit when we were young. Relief softened his face. His tail circled my waist as he pulled me into his arms. “Go ahead of me.” “When everything is settled, I’ll come find you.” I rested against his shoulder and said nothing. Because I knew I would never wait for him again. Then he asked for the keys to our mating residence. My sister had just given birth. Her senses were delicate, and the cedar scent I had left throughout the house made her anxious. He wanted me to remove all my belongings so I would not upset her or the hatchling. I calmly placed the keys in his palm. We had designed that house together. I had chosen the curtains, the rugs, the temperature of the den, and every piece of furniture in the nursery. I once believed we would raise our own child there. But while I lost our baby alone, he had been in my sister’s bed. After I left, I did not go to the new villa he had prepared for me. I went to the shifter containment facility. For three years, every time I visited the father and brother I believed had gone feral, I had seen a young black dragon locked in solitary confinement. He had been framed during a family succession war. One of his horns had been sawed short. Suppression rings clamped his pointed black ears, and iron chains bound the still-growing wings at his back. Everyone claimed he had lost his mind. I was the only one who knew he had been lucid all along. I opened the isolation cell and removed his suppression collar. “I have the money.” “I’m taking you home.” My husband had no idea that I was never going to the mountains. I was crossing the ocean to the overseas territory ruled by the deep-sea black dragons.

When I returned to the mating residence to collect my documents, all my belongings had been dumped across the living-room floor. My sister descended the staircase wearing my white bonding gown. Her snow-leopard ears resembled mine, though hers were smaller and softer. She deliberately lowered them to look innocent while her tail arched proudly behind her, betraying her triumph. My husband had designed that gown himself. His black-serpent crest and my silver snow-leopard markings were embroidered along the inside of the skirt. My sister told me he had already agreed to give it to her. After losing my baby, she said, my body had changed. I would never fit into it again. I did not lunge at her. I did not tear the gown apart. I simply told her it was worth thirty million dollars. If she wanted something that belonged to me, she could pay for it. Humiliation twisted her face. She raised her hand to strike me, only to trip over the heavy skirt and fall. My father and brother rushed in at the sound. My father did not ask what had happened. He slapped me across the face. My head snapped to the side. My silver ears jerked, and the ring on his hand sliced the tip of one ear open. Blood beaded through my fur. He pointed at me and called me greedy, vicious, and no better than my dead mother. He said I did not deserve to belong to the snow-leopard family. My brother stepped between us. For one fragile second, hope rose inside me. Then he said coldly, “Do not hit her where people can see it.” “If she shows up bruised at the registration ceremony, she’ll embarrass our sister.” He threw a black card containing thirty million dollars at my feet and told me to take it and disappear. I stared at the card. Then, under all their eyes, I bent down and picked it up. I told my brother that the gown, the furniture, the jewelry, and everything else I owned inside that den now belonged to him. I would take only my identification. From that day forward, I was no longer my father’s daughter. And I was no longer my brother’s sister. I turned to leave. My sister called me back. She said there was still one thing I had not surrendered.

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My husband, Dante—Don of the Marchetti family in New York—handed the lead investigative reporter position I’d spent five years chasing to Camilla Ricci, his “first love.” Four years into our secret marriage, my career and my feelings had always ranked below whatever counted as “more important.” When he embraced Camilla in front of everyone yet again, I ended it all with a divorce agreement disguised as a family authorization document. The next day, I boarded a plane bound for the war zone in Ukraine. Later, when he crossed half a war-torn world and found me in the ruins, my eyes held nothing but the stillness of a battlefield blizzard. … I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of the law office, fingertips grazing the edge of the document. “Mrs. Marchetti, are you certain you want to do this?” My attorney, Ashford, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “We’re talking about the Don of the Marchetti family.” I turned to look at him. “Ashford, the moment I sign this, I’ll be more clear-headed than I’ve been at any point in the last four years of marriage.” Beyond the window, the Manhattan skyline glittered. Four years ago, when I came to this city from Boston, I thought I would live a completely different life—a successful career in journalism, a marriage built on mutual respect. The second part, at least in theory, had been achieved. I had married Dante Marchetti, Don of the Marchetti family, though almost no one knew it. He had told me: “You understand what I am. Making our marriage public would turn you into a target for every enemy in the underworld. Once I’ve cleared away every threat, I’ll give you a title the entire world can see. Until then, secrecy is what keeps you alive.” Looking back now, that was probably the first warning. “He’ll sign it,” I said. “He never actually reads anything I hand him.” Ashford sighed. “You still have three days to change your mind.” “I don’t need three days.” I tucked the document away. “After he handed my exclusive—the one that should have been mine—to his first love, Camilla Ricci, I stopped needing them.” By the time I returned to the penthouse in Marchetti Tower, it was already evening. Dante being home at all was rare. Rarer still—Camilla was there too. Camilla Ricci, my colleague at the network, and Dante’s first love. She was seated across from my husband, holding the bone china tea set I’d brought back from Paris. “Elena.” Dante didn’t even look up, his eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand. “Camilla’s apartment is being renovated. She’ll be staying in the guest room for a few weeks.” Camilla smiled at me, a smile so flawless it seemed rehearsed. “I hope I’m not intruding. Dan said you have plenty of empty rooms here.” “Dan.” She always called him that—a childhood nickname she claimed she couldn’t shake. Their families had grown up in the same rooms, at the same dinner tables. Some habits, apparently, came more easily to her than to me, the so-called wife. “Of course not,” I said, so calm it frightened me. “Shall I have the housekeeper prepare anything?” “No need.” Dante finally lifted his eyes for a brief, familiar, assessing sweep. “Where were you?” “The station.” I headed for the study. “Some paperwork to handle.” “Still those reports?” Camilla’s voice carried just the right note of curiosity. “I really do admire how persistent you are. Though times have changed, haven’t they? Audiences prefer in-depth personality profiles now—business leaders, financiers. The Halston Capital CEO who’s been everywhere lately would be perfect.” I stopped at the study door. Dante’s voice came from behind me. “Camilla just landed the Halston Capital CEO exclusive. Her team did solid work, so I gave her a hand. Don’t read anything into it.” Halston Capital. The door I’d knocked on for three straight months without so much as a crack of light in return. Now Camilla had it. And my husband had used the Marchetti name to hand it to her. Three months ago, when I had swallowed my pride and asked Dante for help, he had said, plainly: “The Marchetti family’s influence isn’t for trivial things like this. If you really want to interview him, put in the work yourself.” “Congratulations,” I said, and closed the door. … I pulled out the divorce agreement and slipped it beside a blank quarterly authorization form from Marchetti Holdings. Ashford was right—it was madness. But sometimes a mad marriage requires a mad ending. When I walked out of the study with both documents in hand, Camilla was showing Dante her interview outline. They were sitting close; her hair was nearly brushing his shoulder. “Dante,” I cut in. “There’s a document I need you to sign.” He frowned. “Now?” “Holdings related-party transaction authorization. Legal needs it back tonight.” I handed him the divorce agreement, my finger landing precisely above the fine print reading *dissolution of marriage*. “Just sign on the dotted line.” Camilla laughed softly. “All this corporate paperwork is such a nuisance. Dan, you still haven’t looked at my sponsorship agreement—” “Soon,” Dante said. He took the pen without turning past the first page. His eyes were still on Camilla’s tablet. The pen moved across the paper with a smoothness that left a bitterness in my chest. Just like the last four years. Every single thing I ever placed in his hands—dinner invitations, anniversary reminders, conversations about my work—was always interrupted by something “more important.” And every single thing Camilla asked for was always handled “soon.” The pen stopped. He was done. “There.” He handed the document back and finally raised his head. “You don’t look well. Get some rest if you’re tired.” Camilla stood. “I’ll make coffee. Dan, I brought those beans you like—remember? You always said mine was the only kind that tasted right.” They walked into the kitchen together. I stood there, staring at the familiar signature on the last page. *Dante. Marchetti.* Four years ago, I had seen that same handwriting on our marriage certificate. Back then I had believed the name would be a sanctuary for the rest of my life. Now it read like the inscription on a headstone. “Dante,” I said. He paused at the kitchen door and looked back. “Nothing.” I held the document to my chest. “Good night.” “Good night, Elena.” The door closed. I slid down against the cold wall onto the carpet, tracing the grain of the paper with my fingertips. Step one, done—the easiest step, and the hardest one. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Nora—the only colleague at the station who knew I was married, and my closest friend. “How did it go?” she wrote. “Did he sign?” I stared at the light spilling through the crack of the kitchen door, listening to Camilla’s laughter. “He signed,” I replied. “I’ll file it in three days.” “Oh my God. Are you really doing this?” “Nora,” I typed slowly, “do you know what he did for Camilla today? He convinced the Halston Capital CEO to give her the exclusive. Three months ago, I asked him about the same thing. You know what he told me? ‘That kind of fluff interview is a waste of time. I’m not squandering family resources on it.’” The chat showed *typing…* for a long time. Finally, a message came through: “I’m downstairs. Do you need wine, or do you need someone to help you break things?” I laughed—for the first time in four years, a real laugh. “Both,” I replied. “But first, do me a favor—find out if the Eastern European conflict zone still needs war correspondents.”

I thought the moment he signed his name, I would feel relief. But life never follows the script. I locked the divorce agreement in the deepest corner of my locker at the station. Seventy-two hours until I could file it with the court. Those three days became a strange kind of suspended sentence… and Camilla Ricci, the family’s “houseguest,” became the shadow-close jailer. “Morning, Elena.” I’d barely stepped into the newsroom Tuesday when I heard her overly bright voice. She was leaning against the partition of my cubicle, holding a limited-edition mug stamped with the Marchetti Holdings logo. “That mug…” I couldn’t help it. “Oh, this?” She smiled without a trace of guilt. “I found it in Dan’s study yesterday. He said no one was using it, so I borrowed it for tea. You don’t mind, do you?” What could I say? That it belonged to my husband, that it belonged to my home, and she couldn’t just take it? My pride wouldn’t let me stake out territory like some resentful housewife. “Go ahead.” I sat down and opened my laptop. “By the way—” She showed no sign of leaving. “Dan said the pre-coverage for Marchetti Holdings’ quarterly investor summit can go to our network as an exclusive. He specifically asked for me to lead it. What do you think—traditional studio interview, or something more original, like an on-site feature at headquarters?” My fingers froze on the keyboard. Pre-coverage for the Marchetti Holdings investor summit was top-tier material—usually the chief business editor handled it personally. Even senior anchors didn’t touch it every time. “Dante ‘specifically’ asked for you?” My voice came out dry. “Mm-hmm.” She took a sip of tea, eyes crinkling. “He said my angle was ‘insightful.’ Oh, and the Halston Capital feature airs tonight at eight. Don’t forget to watch.” She finally left, trailing a faint scent of cedar—the same brand as the diffuser in Dante’s study. Nora leaned over from the next cubicle and lowered her voice. “My God. Is she reading you an inventory of her trophies?” “Pretty much.” I stared at my screen. The words on the document blurred into a smear. “You have to talk to Dante.” Nora’s tone was flat. “About what?” I twitched a corner of my mouth. “‘Hey, man who is technically still my husband—could you stop handing your family influence and business capital like candy to your first love while simultaneously trampling on my career?’” “Beats bottling it up.” I shook my head. I’d tried too many times—about respect, about boundaries, about my work, about the career he always deemed “not weighty enough.” His answer never changed: “Elena, don’t be dramatic. Camilla just got back. She needs to build a reputation in this industry. You still have time.” Was my time really cheaper than hers? That weekend, the station held a small celebration for the Halston Capital exclusive. Camilla was the star of the evening, surrounded by admirers on every side. “So, you and Mr. Marchetti really were college sweethearts?” a new entertainment reporter asked, wide-eyed. Camilla’s cheeks colored faintly, her gaze drifting toward me where I stood alone with a drink. “That was all in the past. Young love is beautiful… but fragile.” She paused, her voice carrying just the right measure of wistfulness. “We were too proud back then. We thought the future was endless.” A hush fell over the room for a beat. Then a low, familiar voice came from the doorway: “That was a long time ago.” Dante Marchetti walked in, in an impeccably tailored black suit. His eyes cut across the crowd with precision—falling first on Camilla, then, as if with belated hesitation, turning to me. Low murmurs rose up. “Wow… it’s Don Marchetti! So, Mr. Marchetti, you and Camilla really—” Dante stopped beside Camilla, letting his hand rest on the back of her chair with easy familiarity. He didn’t look at me. There was a softness at the corner of his mouth I had never seen before. “Yes,” he said. “She was the first person I ever truly loved.” Applause, whistles, and jeers erupted. Camilla lowered her head shyly and gave his arm a light tap. I stood frozen, my champagne glass cold as ice. Nora’s hand clamped down on my wrist, her nails almost breaking the skin. Dante finally looked at me. His expression was complicated—warning, apology, and something I couldn’t read, something close to a plea. Pleading for what? For me to play along? To stay silent? I tilted my head back and drained the entire glass of champagne. The bubbles burned down my throat. Then I set the glass down and, over all the noise, said clearly and calmly to Nora: “Let’s go. The air in here isn’t good.” I didn’t look at him again, nor at the woman soaking in everyone’s envy. Outside, the Manhattan wind slapped against my face. Nora was trembling with fury. “How could he? That bastard! Does he even know what he just said?” I knew. And so did he. He was drawing a line. In public, in the rules he understood and could control, he had chosen his past, his old debts, his… Camilla. And I was only the wife—the one “unsuited” for in-depth interviews, who needed to “change her approach,” who needed to “work harder on her own,” whose name wasn’t even worth saying aloud. Or rather: the one about to become an ex-wife. Back at the apartment, I locked the bedroom door. From the living room drifted the sound of Dante and Camilla arriving late and chatting, the bright clink of ice dropping into a bucket. I opened my laptop, logged into the station’s internal system, and pulled up the already-completed *High-Risk Region Foreign Assignment Application*. The cursor hovered over *Submit*. Outside the window, the city lights sparkled—countless cold, unreachable dreams. I clicked.

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The year my boyfriend was framed by a rival family and fled to Porto Nero, I followed without looking back. I lived with him in a three-hundred-dollar basement, lost two children working back-to-back shifts day and night. When I took a knife for him and nearly lost my life, Dante Morano’s tears were scalding. I gently wiped them away, with only one request. “When you rise again, will you come to my family and ask for my hand?” He promised. Over six years, Dante rebuilt his strength and took down every rival family. He rose to become the undisputed boss of Porto Nero’s waterfront operations. And I, for the eighty-ninth time, begged his right-hand man to get a message through. “Are we still getting married?” He was busy rotating through one sit-down and back-room meeting after another, and gave the same answer: “Just wait a little longer.” I said fine. I wouldn’t distract him anymore. Until the day I stepped out and ran into a couple of local reporters who’d been sniffing around the family. They barely glanced at me before bolting in another direction. “That woman’s a fraud—the real Mrs. Morano just checked into the OB-GYN clinic.” Stunned, I followed them. Outside the private hospital that charged a hundred thousand a night, Dante had his arm around my foster sister, her belly slightly swollen. Behind them stood my parents, whom I hadn’t seen in six years, and my best friend. Looking at those familiar faces one by one— I felt nothing but distance. So he had gone to my family to propose after all. Just not for me. Fine. I’d grown sick of the wind off the docks anyway. …… The camera flashes were blinding. The crowd shoved me to the outer edge. I accidentally hit a metal railing, and the old wound at my waist ached deep in the bone. My best friend, Camille, was the first to spot me. Her voice caught. “Vivian—why are you… here?” Just last week she’d been on the phone with me, pitying my six years of waiting. Hearing the commotion, Dante turned and saw me in the distance. Panic flashed across his face. “Vivian, don’t misunderstand—I’ll explain everything when we get home!” He said this, but the hand resting on Sienna’s waist didn’t loosen one bit. And my own parents, whom I hadn’t seen in years, opened their mouths several times before finally saying: “Vivian, Sienna is pregnant. Don’t make a scene.” But when I’d had my miscarriage, they couldn’t even be bothered to make the trip to Porto Nero. Silence filled my ears. My name had been called three times, but not a single person actually cared about me. My knuckles turned white from clenching. Then, suddenly, I smiled. “There’s a happy occasion in the family—how come nobody told me?” It was Sienna who answered. “The first three months the baby isn’t stable. We had to keep it secret.” “But sister, you’ve been pregnant twice yourself. You should have more experience than me.” Around her neck hung the Cuore Rosso—a legendary ruby worth a hundred million. Dante had won it at a charity auction on the Amalfi Coast. I’d seen it on the news and assumed it was meant for me. Dante murmured from beside her, “That’s enough. Stop.” Those two children—lost on the road while I was working extra jobs to expand Dante’s network and buy gifts for his associates. They were twins. I still remember the wind off the harbor that December. Bitterly cold. I pressed my hand against my empty belly, and my heart felt like it had a gaping hole, cold wind howling through. Before me, I looked at the five people across the street. One road between us, yet it felt as vast as a galaxy. “Dante Morano, can you look me in the eye and say you’ve done right by me?” The moment I finished, my parents were the first to scold me. “How dare you speak to Dante that way! He’s taken care of our family all these years—how has he wronged you?” Even my best friend Camille frowned. “Vivian, that was uncalled for.” “You’ve been frail all these years, oversensitive and paranoid. Dante is a normal man—he gets tired too!” Only Dante flinched, singed by the grief in my eyes. He moved to come closer. But Sienna let out a soft gasp, and his feet stopped. “Vivian, people are watching. Making a scene would be ugly.” Dante said I looked ugly like this. But was what he’d done behind my back any prettier? Sienna nestled into his arms, whispering softly. “Sister, please don’t make things difficult for Dante.” “It wasn’t easy for him to claw his way back to this position. Surely you don’t want him to suffer alongside you again?” My chest ached so badly I could taste blood at the back of my throat. “Fine. I won’t make things difficult for any of you.” But as I turned to leave, Dante ordered his bodyguards to restrain me. He rubbed his temples, as though I were being impossibly childish. “Take her back to the villa. She doesn’t leave without my permission.” As I was shoved into the car, Sienna flashed me a triumphant smile. A smile that said: you’ve lost everything. Back at the villa, I locked myself in my room. The housekeeper knocked again and again, pleading with me to come out and eat. I stared at the things scattered across the floor. The photographs—every memory Dante and I had shared over the years. The receipts—monthly expense statements I’d faithfully sent home. The matching friendship bracelet—a token of the sisterhood Camille and I once shared. After I burned the last one, my tears had dried too. Finally, I dialed a number. “Six years ago you asked me to marry you. Does the offer still stand?” Silence for a few seconds, then a restrained but unmistakably elated male voice. “Three days. I’ll come for you.”

After all that, I opened the locked door. Sat quietly at the dining table. “Lombardi, would you make me a bowl of soup?” The housekeeper happily walked into the kitchen and made a call. “Mr. Morano, Miss Thornton is out and eating.” Looking up, I saw the pile of gift boxes his man had dropped off in the living room. This was always how Dante tried to placate me—it required no thought and no effort. In the Instagram, Sienna posted a video. “Dante is so wonderful—he pushed back work to stay home and help me knit baby clothes. He’s going to be such a good father.” In the video, he was bent over, carefully stitching a small piece of fabric. His profile gentle, his gaze focused. My eyes burned watching it. I suddenly remembered those days when we were on the run, hiding from one safe house to the next. Dante couldn’t afford anything nice. So he’d braided me a cord bracelet by hand. It was crooked and rough, but I wore it like a treasure for six years. Later he got busier, and richer again. But the companionship—he gave that to someone else. A new comment popped up under that Instagram video. My parents and Camille. “My little grandchild is so blessed to have such loving parents.” “Sienna, I can’t wait to be the godmother! I’ll keep Dante in line for you!” I pulled out the cord bracelet I still carried. The color had long since faded. Time to throw it away. The bodyguards outside the villa kept tight watch, convinced I’d tear the place apart. But I went to the garden as usual to water the flowers. The orchids were delicate—I’d been growing them for half a year. They were about to bloom. I wouldn’t be here to see it. So I had them boxed up and sent to the neighbors in three days. In my messages, Dr. Ferrara, who managed my old injury, reminded me about next week’s appointment. I declined the six-year routine follow-up and withdrew the remaining funds from my medical account. Because there was no point anymore. At the same time, a truck arrived. Furniture was carried in piece by piece. “Be careful—these were all personally selected by Mr. Morano for Miss Thornton. Very expensive!” A maternity mattress, a Baroque vanity, designer lounge chairs. And this villa—I’d only lived here two years. Dante once told me this would be our home for the rest of our lives. Now this home was no longer a home. Sienna walked in, my parents on either side of her, Camille close behind. “Sister, you don’t mind me moving in, do you?” My parents soothed her. “Mind what? You two sisters used to share a room all the time.” We did share a room once. But then they made me move into the storage closet. Because Sienna had a sweeter tongue and a more fragile air. Camille walked right past me and poured Sienna a glass of water. “Sienna, don’t bother with petty people. Think of the baby.” I didn’t say a word. But then—my parents leaned in and whispered: “If you could move out, that would help. Don’t disturb Sienna’s rest. Seeing you puts her in a bad mood.” I stared at my own flesh and blood standing before me, incredulous. “In your eyes, who exactly is the real daughter?” They kept their voices down, terrified Sienna might hear. “Sienna has been with our family so many years, she’s as good as our own. You’ve always been the strong one—what’s wrong with letting her have this?” I could never understand my parents’ favoritism. But today, I suddenly no longer cared to. Camille chimed in: “Sienna’s love for Dante is no less than yours. Six years and nothing to show for it—why not step aside gracefully?” She seemed to have forgotten who stood up for her and fought back against the bullies. Who spent their savings funding her education all those years. A whole heart, fed to the dogs. After saying their piece, the three of them went to help Sienna settle her room. Dante came back soon after. The moment he walked in, he cupped my bare, sockless feet. “Vivian, give me some time. I’ll sort everything out.” His arms were warm—but they’d already held another woman. On his tanned forearm were crescent-shaped nail marks from Sienna. “Sort it out how? Make me the other woman? Watch your happy family from the sidelines?” “Vivian!” Dante’s face hardened. “Do you have any idea who Sienna really is? She’s been claimed by the Constantino family—she can give me enormous leverage!” So that was it. The Constantinos were Porto Nero’s most powerful family. Four generations of empire. “These years I’ve been building my position step by step. Nobody knows what it’s cost me.” But Dante—these six years have cost me too. In the end, I simply couldn’t compete with Sienna’s noble bloodline. Dante softened his voice again. “I haven’t forgotten the promise I made six years ago. I will marry you.” “No need. I’m moving out.”

When I said those words, I thought Dante would at least try to stop me. But he only pressed his lips into a thin line. “Once Sienna’s condition stabilizes, I’ll bring you back.” He thought I was throwing a tantrum. Thought I was competing for attention. I ignored his last sentence entirely. Under the white light, my face was pale. “Before I go—give me back the card I gave you.” When I’d followed him to Porto Nero six years ago, I’d sold everything I owned and walked away from a promising career. One card. Seven hundred and fifty thousand. It was everything I had. And now it was my resolve to sever this relationship for good. All warmth drained from Dante’s eyes. His voice turned cold. “Vivian Thornton, I’ve never shortchanged you. You know what asking for that card means.” Past betrayals had made Dante deeply suspicious. He could spend millions on me without blinking. But if I asked for it—that carried a different meaning entirely. Back in those basement days, Dante would hold me and ask the same question over and over. “Vivian, will you ever be like the others—choose money over me?” “Never. Not in this lifetime.” Now, my smile was exactly the same as back then. “One knife scar. Two children.” “Dante Morano, my youth wasn’t cheap either.” The rainy season had arrived, and my old wound ached terribly. The words had barely settled when Sienna appeared from nowhere. “You really love money that much? I truly feel sorry for Dante!” She gently took Dante’s hand, tenderly smoothing the crease between his brows. My parents slapped me across the face and pointed at my nose: “Vivian Thornton, how did we raise such an ungrateful wretch? Begging for money without a shred of shame!” Camille jumped in too: “I really misjudged you. I thought you were just foolish—turns out you’re vicious. Ask yourself what Dante has done for you!” In the end, Dante threw the bank card on the floor. “Take it and get out. This house has nothing to do with you anymore.” I picked it up without looking at any of them. Because they weren’t worth it. The wind in Porto Nero blew hard at night. Dante wouldn’t let the driver take me. Years of neglect had wrecked my health—problems everywhere. He used to never let me go out alone. Even a scraped knee would distress him. Halfway down the hillside road, the rain began to pour. Icy, wild raindrops lashed my face. I clutched that bank card until its edge cut my palm and blood ran. Before I blacked out, a message came through: “Two more days. Wait for me.” When I woke, I was lying in a house in the outskirts. Mrs. Lombardi changed the towel on my forehead and whispered: “Miss Thornton, Mr. Morano does care about you. Please take care of yourself.” For six years, there had always been people acting as Dante’s advocates. I used to listen. But now I only wanted to leave. My fingertip hovered over the screen. Below that text were a few more messages. “The weather in Ashford has been lovely. You’ll like it.” “Eat well, Vivian.” Inexplicably, something warm stirred in my battered heart. I remembered there was one last thing I hadn’t finished. When I arrived at the orphanage, I was stopped at the gate. “Miss Thornton, we no longer need your sponsorship.” The card I’d demanded back from Dante the night before had been snapped in two. My voice was dry. “Director, what do you mean?” Inside, the children who’d once received my donations kept their distance, wary and hostile. A stack of newspapers was thrown in my face. I unfolded them with trembling hands. “‘Morano Boss Weds Constantino Heiress in Alliance of the Century—Other Woman Cast Out in Disgrace.” The cover showed my rain-soaked, wretched silhouette leaving the night before. Beside it, a spread of Dante and Sienna’s newly shot engagement photos. Picture-perfect bliss. “Our orphanage doesn’t accept dirty money. Please leave.” People came and went, casting countless looks of contempt. I stood in the sun, my vision going black, drenched in cold sweat. Someone’s shoulder knocked into mine, and I fell unguarded to the ground. Sienna’s beaming face appeared above me. “Sister, I’ll be sponsoring this orphanage from now on. Consider it good karma for the baby.” Behind her, the director ushered her in with utmost courtesy. Dante’s tone was stiff. “The papers were to let Sienna save face. The Constantinos wouldn’t agree otherwise.” “Go home. It’s windy here.” I looked at his familiar brow and eyes, and suddenly remembered lying in the hospital. Dante too afraid to close his eyes all night. “Vivian, I swear no one will ever hurt you again.” Now the person hurting me was him. I laughed and laughed until the tears fell. Sienna laced her fingers through his, staking her claim. “Sister, tomorrow is our engagement banquet. Will you come?”

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This was my eighteenth wedding rehearsal with Damian Blackwood,and once again,the spotlight was stolen by my adopted sister,Seraphina. My parents called,their voices tight with anxiety. “Aurora,Sera’s having an anxiety attack.We have to take her to the retreat in the Hamptons.You handle the wedding stuff.You’re experienced with this,seeing as it’s been postponed so many times.” My childhood best friend,Hollywood superstar Giselle,clicked her tongue as if watching a soap opera. “Darling,is your wedding more important than Seraphina’s health?She was about to pass out from the pain,and you wouldn’t even let us help her.When did you become so cold-hearted?” And my fiancé,the Wall Street tech giant,couldn’t even be bothered to call. He just sent a cold text:【Wedding’s off.We’ll talk later.】 Talk later. He’d dismissed me like an unimportant subordinate with those words eighteen times. Suddenly,the whole situation felt absurd. “Guardian Spirit,”I called out in my mind,“sever the blessing contracts between me and them.All of them.” A familiar,ethereal voice echoed in my head:“Command received.All connections to the Darling of Fate,Aurora Sterling,have been severed.” “Countdown:72 hours.They will lose everything they gained through you,including their lives.” … Watching the countdown timer appear in my mind’s eye,I grabbed a microphone and walked onto the wedding stage,which was covered in purple irises. My wedding,decorated with Seraphina’s favorite flower.The irony was perfect. “I’m very sorry,everyone,but today’s wedding is canceled.” The socialites in the audience exchanged knowing glances.No one was surprised. “I knew it.A Sterling wedding never actually happens.If I were her,I’d hide my face in shame.” “The whole Sterling family dotes on the adopted one.If I were Aurora,I’d just give up.Let the sister have him.At least she’d look graceful instead of being the laughingstock of New York.” “You don’t get it.This heiress is something else.They say if Damian Blackwood even slightly upsets her,the Blackwood Group’s stock plummets the next day.He tried a few times,lost billions,and finally agreed to the engagement.” I turned and walked away,feeling their pity and scorn on my back. Hearing their whispers,a cold smirk touched my lips. This time,it would be much more than just a stock plunge…

I changed out of my gown and headed back to the Sterlings’penthouse on Park Avenue,planning only to grab a few belongings before leaving for good. But the second I reached the front door,I ran into a crowd escorting Seraphina back inside,chatting and laughing cheerfully. All their smiles froze the moment they laid eyes on me. Fire flared in Damian’s gaze,his tone sharp with reproach. “Aurora Sterling,why didn’t you issue a statement to the press after calling off the wedding?If you don’t take responsibility publicly,everyone’s just going to pin the blame on Sera again.” My father,Richard Sterling,curled his lip and spoke in a commanding tone. “Aurora,your crisis management is abysmal this time.We’ve never had to clean up messes from your canceled weddings before.You’ve let me down badly.Draft a formal announcement right away admitting you called everything off on a reckless whim.” My supposed best friend Giselle immediately pulled out her phone. “I’ll have my agent reach out to every major outlet.We can still spin this if Aurora posts the statement now.I’ll also pay online trolls to drag her name through the mud so no one speculates anything bad about Sera…” I said nothing in response to their unearned,self-righteous accusations. I simply stared at the countdown ticking away in my head. Two days and eighteen hours remained. Then every last one of them would plunge straight into ruin. “What are you zoning out for,Aurora Sterling?”Damian stepped up to me,his voice laced with a clear warning.“Fix this mess properly,or I make no promises about when we’ll ever reschedule our wedding.” Seraphina piped up in her usual frail,simpering voice. “It’s all my fault for holding Damian and my sister’s wedding up.This is entirely on me.There are plenty of auspicious dates left this month—please don’t postpone it any further…” Her sentence cut short as she broke into a harsh coughing fit. Damian rushed to her side in an instant,rubbing her back soothingly. “This isn’t your fault at all,don’t beat yourself up over it.Your sister’s never going anywhere without me;our wedding can happen whenever.” “I wouldn’t count on that.” I finally broke my silence with a cold retort. Every single person in the room went rigid with shock. I lifted the duffel bag in my hand.“I’m leaving.” The words had barely left my mouth when— SLAP! A crisp,echoing smack rang out across the lavish living room.

My cheek stung,but I just wanted to laugh. My mother,Eleanor,her hand still trembling with rage,screamed at me. “How dare you make a scene?!We’ve spoiled you rotten!You were a debutante,how did you become so selfish and difficult?” “You’re leaving?Where are you going to go?Are you trying to make sure the whole city knows how we’mistreated’you?Aurora,when will you ever learn?How could I have a daughter like you?You’re not even half the woman Seraphina is!” I tasted blood in my mouth. Yes,I used to throw a tantrum every single time. Because I didn’t understand why they’d insist I broke my father’s antique vase when Seraphina did it. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t believe the security footage that showed I never pushed Seraphina down the stairs. Even buying a bouquet of lilies was twisted into’proof’that I was intentionally triggering Seraphina’s allergies. This wasn’t the first time my mother had hit me. Just two days ago,I refused to let Seraphina try on my custom Vera Wang wedding dress. Then,she“coincidentally”fainted. My mother rushed in,pushed me to the ground,and took a pair of scissors to the dress I had waited six months for. We were practically enemies because of Seraphina. So I used to make a scene.I wanted someone,anyone,to see the truth. But this time,I was done.I wasn’t going to make a scene anymore.

In the story of this world,I am the one kissed by fate.The chosen one. The rule is simple:only by forming a deep connection with me can the other characters receive their good fortune. The day after I was born,the Sterling Group,which had been on the brink of bankruptcy,miraculously received a massive investment and became one of New York’s top firms.My father’s stage-two cancer vanished without a trace. My best friend Giselle,who was always by my side,had a charmed career in Hollywood,winning an Oscar and becoming a global superstar. And Damian Blackwood. He was just a poor kid from Brooklyn,getting beat up by street thugs. Until he saved me from getting lost on a rainy night,and I fell for him. From that moment on,he founded his tech company and,as if guided by a divine hand,never lost a single battle in the business world,eventually taking his company public on Nasdaq and becoming a tech legend. They all worshiped me for over twenty years. Damian treated me like the most precious thing in the world. And because of me,they got everything they ever dreamed of. But then,they brought Seraphina home. And everything changed.

My father spoke to the butler in a grim voice. “Pack up her things.She won’t take a single thing from the Sterling family with her.” “Aurora Sterling,you can leave.But this time,none of us are coming to get you.If you walk out that door,we’ll hold a press conference and disown you.You will no longer be a Sterling!” They pushed me out the door without letting me take so much as a change of clothes. Damian sighed and discreetly slipped me a key. “You can stay at this apartment.Aurora,we’re just tired.We don’t want to play these games with you anymore.” Then he added,“I wish it had been Seraphina I saved that night.” I laughed coldly.“You can marry her now,for all I care.” Damian sighed again,frustrated.“There you go again.Aurora,you know I promised to marry you,and I won’t go back on my word.” “Seraphina is a sweet,innocent girl.I will not allow you to speak of her as if she’s some object to be traded.Don’t let me hear you say that again.” He turned and walked back up the steps. I threw the key on the ground.As I was about to leave,Seraphina rushed out and grabbed my sleeve.“Sister,don’t go!It’s my fault,I shouldn’t have wished for a warmth that wasn’t mine…I don’t deserve it…” “Don’t leave,I should be the one to go!I’ll leave the Sterling house right now…”

I knew what game she was playing. So I just stood there and let her hold onto me,performing her masterful crying act. But when I didn’t push her away like I usually did,she suddenly gasped,“I can’t breathe,”and collapsed in a soft heap at my feet. “Sera!” “Get the family doctor,now!Seraphina,my daughter!” Everyone rushed over,surrounding her in a panic. Damian’s eyes were bloodshot with fury.He grabbed me by the neck.“Aurora Sterling,you dare to touch Seraphina again?Did you think I’d never lay a hand on you?!” I realized that when you’re truly speechless,you just laugh. I didn’t even bother to touch her. And yet,I was still the one who“hurt”her. “Damian,I hope you all don’t regret this one day.” “Guards!”my father roared,pointing at me.“Lock her in the wine cellar!Let her think about what she’s done!”

This is the second time I’ve been locked in here. The first time is still fresh in my mind. It happened because I caught Sera sneaking into Damian’s bedroom in the middle of the night. I lost it on the spot.I caught her red-handed in Damian’s bed! But then she tearfully claimed it was due to sleepwalking caused by childhood trauma—she said she didn’t even know why she went into Damian’s room,only that she felt safe there. She didn’t mean to do it. My parents and Damian bought that explanation completely. Damian even told her gently that if she was afraid,she could come to him anytime. Back then,my feelings for Damian were at their peak. I couldn’t even stand a female assistant near him—aside from the cleaning ladies,no women were allowed in the entire executive office. So,I slapped Sera right then and there. And for that,my parents locked me in this wine cellar for seven days,with only a slice of bread and a cup of water each day. They only let me out when I was nearly out of my mind with hunger and agreed to apologize to Sera. But this time,they clearly don’t intend to just starve me for a few days. When my father walked in holding a horsewhip,Damian followed behind him. “According to family rules,you deserve a real lesson.But Sera felt sorry for you and begged me on her knees to go easy on you.So you’ll get just five lashes.” *Crack!* Halfway through,my father hesitated,unable to go on.“Apologize to your sister!” “Are you going to apologize or not?!” But I never gave him the answer he wanted.The more he demanded,the angrier he became. By the time the five lashes were done,my entire back was a bloody mess. I was already numb from the pain,curled up in the corner,gasping for air. My father threw down the whip and left without another word. His final words lingered in the air: “Incorrigible!”

Damian crouched down in front of me. “Here’s some medicine and clean clothes from Seraphina.Aurora,Seraphina has always respected you.As her older sister,and as my future wife,you should take care of her.Why are you so petty?Why do you always assume the worst in people?” “When you’ve thought it through,apologize.Stop making us all angry.” He unfolded the clothes Seraphina had“prepared”for me—a coarse burlap shirt—and“thoughtfully”draped it over my back. The rough fabric scraped against my raw wounds.It felt like being dunked in salt water. I curled into a ball,shaking from the agony. “So dramatic.Seraphina has her attacks,turns pale from pain,but she never makes a scene like you do.” Damian rolled his eyes,stood up,and left. It took me a long time to catch my breath. “Guardian Spirit…” “Host,shall I activate the pain-blocking function?” “No.I want to accelerate the end of the contract.” “Understood.Acceleration initiated.Tomorrow at noon,all characters will face the consequences.”

As dawn broke,I was roughly dragged to my feet. Someone took me somewhere,and I fell onto a cold tile floor. The next second,a blast of icy water from a showerhead jolted me awake. I was fully conscious now,and I saw Seraphina holding a pressure washer. Her eyes were filled with undisguised contempt and mockery,a triumphant smile on her face. She had the water on its coldest setting,standing far away,spraying me down like a stray dog. “Sister,Mom and Dad said they’re holding a press conference at the New York Stock Exchange today.To announce to the whole world that you’ve been kicked out of the Sterling family.” “They’re going to publicly declare that I am the only daughter of the Sterling family,and Damian’s only bride.” “With the Blackwood and Sterling merger,I’ll be the jewel of two great families.And you?You’ll be sent back to the countryside.A dirt-poor peasant,married off to some disgusting pig farmer.” I glared at Seraphina. Yes,this was her true self. She never bothered to hide her ambition from me. From the very first day she came to the Sterling house and insisted on sharing my room,she told me she was here to replace me. But back then,I thought I had the“blessing contract.”I thought,how could they ever leave me? Reality slapped me hard in the face. The icy water had made my limbs numb. Then suddenly,Seraphina switched the water from cold to scalding hot. The boiling water poured over my back,instantly re-opening the wounds that had just started to scab over. Blood mixed with water,swirling down the drain. The bathroom filled with steam.I was red and swollen,the pain in my back so intense it felt like it wasn’t even part of my body anymore. Seraphina laughed.“Mom and Dad told me to wash you up.I have to be thorough.” Then,she poured a large bucket of what looked like red wine mixed with something else all over me.

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On the day my fiance called off our wedding. I accepted a transfer order from Aegis Technology Research Institute and left New York without telling anyone. “Chloe is in very poor health.She needs my last name and that top-tier medical insurance more than you do.” “Evelyn,you’ve always been the most rational.This is just a temporary measure.Once she’s stable,everything will go back to the way it was.” In New York’s social circle,everyone thought I—who had given up a full scholarship to MIT to follow my boyfriend,Karen Thorne,a superstar in the North American Hockey League,to New York—would cry,throw a fit,and beg him not to leave me. After all,in their eyes,without Karen,I was just a useless unemployed girlfriend,a pretty ornament under his halo. But I just nodded calmly. Then I got into a black Cadillac One personally sent by the founder of Aegis Institute. Three years later,as the chief designer of Hermes,a revolutionary sports prosthesis,I attended its launch at the World Sports Technology Conference. Karen,as the league’s ambassador,saw me among the well-dressed crowd. But there was no longer any sign of him in my eyes. …… Three years ago,at the MVP celebration party held by Karen’s team for him. In front of all the media and teammates,he unilaterally announced the end of our engagement and introduced Chloe,the younger sister of his late best friend,as his fiancée. He didn’t even glance at me.He spoke directly to the reporters surrounding him:“Due to special circumstances,Chloe and I will hold our engagement ceremony as soon as possible.” The team manager looked at me,then at Karen,his face full of embarrassment. “Karen,you and Evelyn’s wedding news has already been released.The cover of next month’s Sports Illustrated is already shot.” “This is so unfair to Evelyn.” Chloe,standing behind Karen,coughed twice at the right moment,her face as pale as paper. She whispered,“Brother Karen,let’s just forget it…Don’t embarrass the manager,and don’t put Sister Evelyn in an awkward position.” “I…I can go back to my hometown to recover too.” As soon as she finished speaking,she broke into a violent cough,her body swaying unsteadily.

Karen immediately held her up,his brows furrowed tightly. “Nonsense!Your heart can’t stand the climate there at all.Have you forgotten what the doctor said?” He turned to the team manager,his voice turning cold:“Manager,Chloe is the only family member of my best brother.He ruined his career protecting me on the ice and died of depression.Now Chloe is all alone and seriously ill.If I don’t take care of her,who will?” “I’ll take this responsibility.If the board has any issues,tell them to come to me directly!” With the labels of“morality”and“responsibility”pressed on him,no one at the party dared to say another word. The manager sighed and signaled the PR team to prepare a new press release. My gaze shifted from the flashing camera lights to Karen’s face. He never looked at me. “Karen,”I said calmly. He finally spared me a glance,obvious impatience in his eyes. “What now?Evelyn,I thought you were the most sensible.” “Sensible?”I repeated the word. For three years,I had given up my major and my bright academic future just for these two words. I had gone from a promising biomechanical genius to the“sensible”woman he spoke of,one who could be sacrificed at any moment. “You’re with me so I can focus on my games.Chloe needs me to survive.” He looked at me,saying word by word: “Can’t you tell which is more important?”

I stared at the man I had loved for three years and followed for more than 5,000 kilometers. I asked him:“If it were me dying today,would you give up Chloe’s future for me?” He froze. Chloe beside him reddened her eyes and tears fell. “Sister Evelyn,how could you say that…My brother died for Brother Karen…How could you curse me like this…” Karen snapped back to his senses,his irritation turning to faint anger. “Evelyn,apologize!” I didn’t move. “I told you to apologize to Chloe!”he raised his voice eight degrees. Everyone at the party stared at me,their eyes full of blame and confusion. As if I were some vicious woman. I laughed. “Fine,I’ll apologize.” I walked up to Chloe. “I’m sorry.” “I shouldn’t have compared a healthy person to the sister of a hero.” “After all,healthy people are meant to make way for the sick.” Chloe’s face turned pale instantly. Karen’s face turned livid.He grabbed my wrist tightly:“Evelyn,have you had enough?” “No,”I shook off his hand.“Karen Thorne,you don’t have to worry about the engagement.I’ll handle it myself.” I took out my phone from my purse and,in front of everyone,deleted all photos and announcements related to him on my social media. “From today on,Evelyn Reed and Karen Thorne have nothing to do with each other.” I turned and left. He didn’t chase after me. Behind me came Chloe’s tearful voice:“Brother Karen,it’s all my fault.Go explain to Sister Evelyn…She must have misunderstood…” Then came Karen’s voice,still gentle despite his suppressed anger. “Ignore her.She’ll calm down in a few days.I’ll take you home to rest first.” My heart turned completely cold at that moment.

I went back to the penthouse apartment Karen and I shared. The artwork we picked out together still hung on the walls. Everything felt like yesterday. I started packing my things. I had very few belongings—they fit into a small suitcase. Most were professional books. Karen had never liked me reading them. He said that as the girlfriend of a hockey star,I should just learn art,fashion,and socializing.Why read such“boring”stuff? I pulled the suitcase and prepared to leave. Just then,the door opened. Karen came back,followed by Susan,the team’s PR director. Susan was a decisive woman who had always been kind to me. “Evelyn,honey,what are you doing?” Susan saw my suitcase and hurriedly persuaded me:“Don’t run away from home just because you’re angry.Karen is an idiot,but he cares about you.Calm down.” I ignored her and pulled the suitcase toward the door. Karen stood in my way,frowning:“Where are you going?” “Home.” “Isn’t this your home?” “This is your home,not mine,”I said calmly.

He suddenly scoffed:“Not here?Then where?Your ordinary family in that small Midwest town?Did your parents send you to the East Coast just to cause me trouble?” The most hurtful words always come from the people you love the most. Susan quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Come on,Karen,watch your mouth.Evelyn,Karen is doing this out of responsibility.Chloe’s situation is really special.Those of us by his side need to be more understanding.” She said to me:“Look at you,you’re so well-educated.Why can’t you understand this?Just do a good deed and give up this title.Karen will definitely compensate you later.” Compensate?With what? With the identity of an ex-girlfriend mocked across the country,or the rest of my life he charity-gives me? “Susan,this is my business.It has nothing to do with you.”I walked around her. Karen grabbed my arm again. “Did I say you could leave?” He pushed me hard into the room.I hit the wall,my back aching. “Evelyn,I gave you time to calm down,not to go crazy!” “Go back to your room and reflect on whether what you said at the party was appropriate for a well-bred woman!” “Come out only when you’ve come to your senses.” He kicked my suitcase aside and turned to lock the bedroom door. Just then,my phone rang. It was an encrypted number. I answered and said nothing. A calm male voice came from the other end:“Hermes,this is Arthur Zhou,founder of Aegis.” My pupils shrank sharply. “Headquarters order:Project Prometheus is activated early.You must report back within six hours.The special car is already downstairs.” I glanced at Karen subconsciously. He was staring at me impatiently,thinking it was just a friend calling. “Are you done?Hang up and get inside!” I clenched my phone and whispered to the caller:“Received.” After hanging up,I looked up at Karen. It was the last time I looked at him with the eyes of a lover:“Karen,are you sure you want to do this?” “I won’t say it again.”He had run out of patience. “Fine.” I nodded,never looking at him again,and turned into the small guest bedroom with only a single bed. The door clicked shut behind me,locked from the outside.

The guest bedroom balcony faced the apartment’s back garden,a private wooded area. I opened the floor-to-ceiling window,and cold wind rushed in. The third floor wasn’t high.I tore the expensive Egyptian cotton bed sheets into strips,twisted them into a rope,tied one end to the balcony railing,and threw the other end down. I grabbed the rope and climbed over the balcony. The moment my feet touched the ground,I didn’t even look back at the place I had lived for three years. In the snow,I walked step by step toward the apartment gate. My phone vibrated again.A text message arrived: “Car at the gate.License plate:AEGIS-01.” I quickened my pace. At the apartment gate,the security guard stopped me. “Ma’am,where are you going so late?” I had been locked up by Karen and had nothing with me except my phone. Just as I didn’t know how to explain,a middle-aged man in a high-end tailored suit stepped out of the black Cadillac. He walked straight to the security guard and showed an electronic ID on his phone. The security guard’s face changed drastically.He immediately stood straight and bowed respectfully. “Good evening,sir!” The middle-aged man nodded,walked to me,and opened the car door. “Dr.Reed,please get in.” I got in,and warm air surrounded me. The car slowly started.I watched the luxurious apartment building fade away in the snow through the rearview mirror. My phone rang.It was Karen. I hung up. He called again.I hung up again. The third time,he sent a text: “Evelyn,my patience is limited.Don’t force me to bring you back by force!Apologize to Chloe on your own within a day,and this will be over.”

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In my bravest and most foolish year,I spent 99 days making the man I was obsessed with—the“Ice God”and captain of the New York hockey team,Damian Knight—finally fall for me. Back then,I was the team’s intern physical therapist,in charge of his conditioning. At night,I was his lover. Until the day I stood outside his mansion’s wine cellar and overheard him laughing with his teammates. “Damian,I heard you broke your season’s celibacy for that little intern?Weren’t you waiting for Chloe to come back?Giving up just like that?” Damian sipped his whiskey,the ice clinking in the glass.His voice was just as cold. “She’s just an intern.Is she even worthy?The moment Chloe’s back in New York,I’m proposing to her.” The cellar erupted in laughter. “Great!Hey,Captain,when you’re done with her,let the rest of us have a taste.I hear she’s good at taking care of people.” A contemptuous smirk played on Damian’s lips.“Whatever.Do what you want.” I instinctively touched my still-flat stomach and vanished from his world that very night. Five years later,at a grand New York charity gala,Damian Knight was about to bid on a legendary blue sapphire necklace called“The Queen’s Heart”for his recently returned love,Chloe. But a clear child’s voice cut through the room: “Sorry,my mommy likes that necklace.My bid is…no limit!” … The entire hall fell silent. Damian,fiddling with an expensive watch on his wrist,shot a cold glare at the little boy standing on a chair.His tone was sharp.“Kid,do you even know what’no limit’means?Where are your parents?” The little boy,Leo,put his hands on his hips and tilted his head up proudly.“Don’t you dare mention that idiot who took too many pucks to the head!It’s bad luck!” The auctioneer on stage looked troubled.“Young man,the starting bid is five million dollars.Are you sure you want to participate?” Guests started whispering. “Whose kid is this?Talks big.If his dad knew he was bluffing here,he’d probably have a heart attack!” For some reason,Damian’s nose itched,and he let out a loud sneeze. Chloe Vanderbilt frowned,walked over,and shoved Leo off the chair.“Where did this brat come from?No manners at all!This is a charity gala,not your playground!” Caught off guard,Leo screamed as he fell backward.“Mommy,save me!” The instant before he hit the floor,I pushed through the crowd and rushed toward him. The heel of my stiletto snapped,and I fell hard,shielding the child with my arms. Thankfully,I held Leo tightly,and he was unharmed. When I stood up with him in my arms,a flash of shock crossed Damian’s eternally calm blue eyes.His signature icy voice wavered for the first time.“Ava?What are you doing here?”

Before I could speak,his teammates started jeering. “Captain,isn’t that the intern from back then?” “Five years,and now she’s shacked up with some old geezer from Wall Street,playing mistress!” Chloe immediately wrapped her arm around Damian’s,possessively.“So you’re the therapist who harassed Damian and got kicked off the team?Like mother,like son.This kid is already a little liar,trying to bid on a five-million-dollar necklace!” Leo curled up in my arms,hurt.“Mommy,I wasn’t lying.Grandpa gave me a card and said today is your birthday,and I could buy you a present.” As he spoke,he fumbled in his pocket.“Grandpa said this black card can buy anything.He can afford it!” All eyes were on his pocket. The next second,he pulled out…a shiny,limited-edition Superman trading card. The crowd erupted in sharp,mocking laughter. “Ha,a Superman card?Does he think this is Gotham City?He wants to buy The Queen’s Heart with that!” “She must be desperate for money!” As the sole grandson of the Wall Street legend Marcus Thorne and future heir to the Thorne Group,Leo had never been so humiliated. He burst into tears in my arms.“Mommy,I’m not lying!The black card must have fallen out in the car.” I stroked his hair,comforting him softly.“It’s okay,sweetie.Tell Mommy,which one did you like?” Leo pointed to the dazzling blue sapphire necklace on the stage. The next second,I calmly raised my bidding paddle and said to the auctioneer,“I bid ten million dollars.”

The jeers around me were almost deafening. “A disgraced intern trying to show off.How shameless!” Chloe sneered.“Can you even afford it?This is a Sotheby’s auction,not the sporting goods store you work at!” Damian’s brow furrowed,and he stopped fiddling with his watch.“Ava,how long are you going to keep making a scene with this kid you picked up from God knows where?I don’t care whose child he is,but you’ve clearly taught him badly!” I looked at him,my eyes filled with nothing but cold indifference. What right did he have to judge my child? Seeing my silence,Chloe fanned the flames.“If your sugar daddy finds out his trashy mistress and her bastard son are embarrassing him here,do you think you’ll still get your allowance next month?” His teammates joined in. “Exactly!Can your bald old man handle the consequences of pissing off our captain?” “Don’t come crawling back to us,begging the Captain and Chloe for forgiveness when you two get kicked to the curb!” Through all of this,Damian’s gaze locked onto me,filled with a mix of probing and disgust. “Ava,you left without a word back then.Was it because you couldn’t wait to find your next meal ticket?”He glanced at Leo in my arms and demanded,“And this child,who did you have him with?”

I held Leo even tighter. Bastard son? Right.In the eyes of the high-and-mighty“Ice God,”I would always be the lowly intern,easily discarded. Five years ago,I only got close to him to win a bet with my father—that I could handle the coldest hockey player in New York and prove I was capable of handling any difficult problem.Why else would I have become his intern? After leaving him,I never regretted having Leo. If my father knew that his precious daughter and grandson were being humiliated like this,it would only take a single phone call for every one of these people’s companies to go bankrupt tomorrow. The auctioneer confirmed again,“Ma’am,are you certain about your ten-million-dollar bid?” “I’m certain.” The moment I spoke,one of Damian’s teammates snatched my paddle and threw it on the floor.“Can she afford it?A physical therapist couldn’t make ten million even if she gave a Middle Eastern prince private service for a decade!” I was furious.To keep a low profile,I had left my security team and my phone outside,thinking I was just attending a simple dinner. A huge mistake.

Instantly,Leo clung to me,crying out at the group.“You bully my mommy,and my grandpa will never forgive you!My grandpa is Marcus Thorne!” His words were met with a brief silence,followed by an even louder roar of laughter. “Marcus Thorne?The’Ghost of Wall Street’who never appears on any magazine cover?You little liar,you might as well say your grandpa is Superman!” “This kid is full of lies.His mother must be a terrible influence!” Leo was overwhelmed by the vicious voices.He kept crying,“I’m not lying!I’m not a liar!” He had grown up surrounded by the love and protection my father and I had built for him.He had never seen how ugly people could be. He buried his head in my chest,his body trembling with sobs.“Mommy,I’m not a liar…Why are they saying that…?” Seeing the situation spiral out of control,I had to back down for Leo’s sake.“I’m sorry,everyone.My son doesn’t know any better.We’ll pass on the necklace.” But as I tried to leave,Damian’s teammates surrounded me. “Trying to leave now?Too late!” “Weren’t you acting all high and mighty?Scared now?” One of them,a blond player,looked me up and down crudely.“Or,you could spend a night with each of us,and maybe we can chip in and buy you a replica of the necklace,hahaha.” Just as his filthy hand was about to touch me,there was a sharp snap.The lucky bracelet Damian had worn for years suddenly broke,its beads scattering across the floor. He stared at me,furious.“Ava,five years and you’ve fallen this low?You’ll sell anything for money?And have a child with another man?”

He knew those words were meant to humiliate me. But he believed them. Our eyes met,and the disgust in his was like a blade of ice. The man who had been my lover every night five years ago was now speaking the most venomous words. I let out a cold laugh.“Yes,I had him with someone else.Is there a problem?” My words stung Damian.He grabbed my wrist,his grip so tight it felt like he would crush the bone.His eyes held a suppressed madness.“Answer me!Why did you even bother with me back then?You’re so filthy,just how many men’s beds have you been in?!” My heart sank. At that moment,Leo broke free from my arms and slammed his small body into Damian.“Don’t you bully my mommy!You big bully!” Damian stumbled back.Chloe quickly steadied him,then yelled at Leo,“You little brat!If your mother can’t teach you manners,I’ll do it for her!” As she spoke,she raised her hand to strike Leo! “Leo,run!”I screamed in terror. But a player had already grabbed Leo from behind,lifting him into the air by his collar. Leo’s feet dangled as he struggled.“Let me go!You’re all bullies!My grandpa will get you for this!” The men only laughed harder,tossing him around like a toy. Suddenly,Leo’s face turned deathly pale.He began to cough violently,and his eyes started to flutter shut. I lunged forward like a madwoman,all dignity forgotten,and screamed at Damian,“Leo isn’t a bastard!He’s your son!”

The air froze. A few seconds later,the crowd erupted in even harsher laughter. “She’s lost it.The woman is completely insane!Trying to trap the Ice God himself!” “Doesn’t she know the Knight family has a history of genetic problems?It’s a known secret they have trouble having children.And she dares claim that mutt is the Captain’s?” The blond player’s hand went slack,and he dropped Leo onto the floor. Leo’s head hit the cold marble,and his forehead was instantly a bloody mess. “Leo!”I scrambled over,pulling him into my arms,my heart breaking.“Sweetie,does it hurt?” The child curled up,whispering weakly,“Mommy…I don’t feel good…I want to go home…” Tears I could no longer hold back streamed down my face. Damian watched this whole farce with ice in his eyes,his voice devoid of emotion.“Ava,I never thought you could be this shameless.If it weren’t for my family’s difficulty in having children,I might have actually believed your bullshit.” Just then,the child’s health monitoring watch on Leo’s wrist let out a shrill alarm.The heart rate on the display was plummeting. I struggled to pick him up and rush out.“Get out of my way!All of you,move!” But Chloe blocked my path.“Stop the act.He just took a little fall.Is it necessary to be so dramatic?”

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My Fated Mate, Liam, was toying with my best friend Chloe—right in front of me. He was releasing his scent on purpose, drawing me toward him like a lure so I’d have no choice but to watch. Outside the werewolves-only nightclub, our so-called mutual friends were laying bets on whether I’d have the guts to sever the Mate Bond and file for divorce. “No way Serena walks. Liam owns half the state—he’s a top-tier Alpha.” “Please. She’s an Omega. She couldn’t excite an Alpha if her life depended on it. Why do you think Liam’s screwing Chloe? And she’s just a Beta.” “Hey, Liam, say something. You think that mate of yours has the nerve to leave you?” Through the half-open door of the private booth, I saw Chloe. My best friend. She was draped across Liam’s lap, tilting her head back to press a slow kiss against his mouth. “Serena?” she said, her voice thick with contempt and certainty. “That parasite? Without an Alpha to shelter her, she wouldn’t survive a week.” Liam raised an eyebrow and gave me a slow, mocking smile through the doorway. Then, holding my gaze, he stubbed out his cigar and pressed one large hand against Chloe’s hip, forcing her down hard against the leather couch. His eyes went dark with that wild Alpha hunger, and he tore open the thin silk of her dress in one rough motion. Chloe let out a coy little gasp, then eagerly wrapped her legs around his solid waist. The heavy breaths came next. Then the primal, brutal rhythm of flesh against flesh. Chloe’s breathy moans blended with Liam’s low, possessive growls, and every sound of it poured straight into my ears. The cloying, syrupy scent unique to heat rolled out through the gap in the door and stabbed at my senses. I stood outside, shaking. That’s when I understood: he’d released the scent on purpose. He wanted me here. He wanted to watch his mate fall apart. But I was even more pitiful than they thought—I couldn’t even bring myself to push the door open. I just drew a slow breath, forced my Inner Wolf’s grieving howl back down, and dialed a number. Chloe’s mate. “Shawn, Chloe’s drunk. She’s at the nightclub. You should come get her.” Shawn was an Alpha—exiled by another pack. Once, protecting Chloe, he’d killed a man in a half-shift. The Council had ruled against him, stripping him of his territory. Chloe had complained to me more than once that Shawn was beneath her now. “Who’s she drinking with?” Shawn’s voice came through the phone, hoarse and cold. I answered right away. “Friends. Rough male wolves, the loud, handsy type. You should hurry.” Shawn made a rough sound of agreement, breathing hard, and said he was on his way. I hung up and turned to leave. Chloe’s smug voice echoed in my head—something she’d bragged about more than once: *”Shawn used to be an Alpha. He tore out throats to protect me. Not one or two men, either—otherwise how would an Alpha like him end up exiled?”* I’d only just reached the end of the hallway when my phone rang. Liam. “You saw, didn’t you?” he said. “Enjoy the show?” His voice carried the full weight of an Alpha’s dominance right through the receiver. My lips parted. My throat closed. I said nothing. “I saw you,” he went on. “Was the sound good?” The tenderness in his voice was worse than silver burning my skin. I made a small sound of acknowledgment. A quiet *mm*. Liam laughed under his breath. “Coward.” He was right. By now, the whole pack knew I was a coward. He’d played with my best friend, in front of me, in front of the whole pack. “Come on, she doesn’t even dare walk in? That’s just sad!” Laughter erupted inside the booth—cruel, careless heckling. Then Chloe grabbed the phone. Her voice came through, smiling and light. “If I’d known you were this scared of losing your Alpha, I wouldn’t have wasted money on scent-blocker.” Her tone turned honeyed. “But doing it behind your back? God, the thrill. I’ve been sampling your mate on your behalf, Serena. Full marks on all counts. I’ll be keeping him, thanks.” “Chloe, keep going and the poor little Omega’s going to cry.” “Liam, aren’t you going to comfort her?” Someone piped up from the sidelines, but this time Liam actually sounded serious. “Cut it out. If she cries, I’ll have to deal with it later. Serena isn’t like you—she’s easier to soothe, so quit picking on her.” Then he took the phone back and offered me his charity, that gentle condescension I knew so well. “Where are you? The bathroom? I’ll come find you. It’s not safe out there.” I turned toward the corridor and watched his tall frame push through the door. He stood there a moment, phone raised, then spotted me and hung up. His expression was pure satisfaction—with just a trace of a predator savoring the moment it caught its prey. He walked over, reached out, and ruffled my hair the way you’d pet a nervous animal. “She’s not like you. You’re my rightful Luna. Why the tears?” “Come on, be good. I’m not going to break the bond with you.” His voice was indulgent, warm—the tone you use with something you own. Then the door swung open, and Chloe stumbled out. Her clothes were half-fastened, her curls tumbling across her pale collarbone, the neckline of her dress hanging low enough to promise more than it hid. She tripped forward and fell against Liam’s chest. His hand went to her waist automatically—his palm, hot, spread across her bare skin. Chloe tilted her head against him and lifted her eyes to mine. “Liam, it hurts,” she murmured. “You were too rough. My legs won’t stop shaking.” She pouted, rubbed her stomach, and let her voice go soft and coaxing. “Take me home? Serena knows now anyway, so what’s the point in hiding? You don’t mind, do you, Serena?” She looked straight at me, all pride and gloating. “After all—she’s just an Omega. She can’t handle a man like you. Only I can take that kind of love.” At that exact moment, my phone lit up. Shawn, asking for my location. Blank-faced, I pinned the location and sent it.

Then I raised my head and looked Liam dead in the eye. “And if I do mind?” Something flickered across Liam’s handsome face—hesitation, maybe. He tried to peel Chloe off him, but she went limp against his chest like clay, arms locked tight around his waist. She pouted. “We’ve done it plenty of times on your own territory. Why the sudden gentleman act?” She scoffed, then turned toward me with her chin raised in triumph. “Didn’t you say it yourself? Serena in bed is like a dead fish. Zero fun.” Liam shot me a nervous glance. “Just jokes. Just something I say to tease her.” I dug my nails into my palm and gave a light, indifferent, “Oh.” “Then I’ll help you take her home.” “You’ll *what*?” Chloe stared at me like she couldn’t have heard right. I lifted my chin and looked steadily at the two of them—the man and woman who’d trampled the Mate Bond without shame. “You said your head hurts. Liam and I will take you home together.” Then, ignoring the pressure of an Alpha and a Beta bearing down on me, I stepped forward and took hold of her arm. Liam blinked, then let out something like a laugh. He reached out and brushed a finger down the tip of my nose, all indulgence. “Well, well. My Luna finally got jealous? Little bit of temper isn’t bad on you.” The gesture and the tone were unbearably intimate—as if the betrayal had never happened. My stomach turned, but I kept my face still. It made me think of the werewolf academy. A she-wolf had cornered me in the locker room once, shredded my clothes with her claws. I’d stood there just like this—swallowing it, letting it happen. It was Liam who’d shown up. Liam who’d flooded the room with Alpha dominance and cowed her. He’d frowned, stripped off his black jacket, and dropped it around my shoulders. *”You should have some fight in you. Act like a real wolf.”* The girl never showed her face at the academy again. Liam always assumed it was his doing—the mighty Alpha, defender of his little Omega. He never knew the truth: that the same girl had been caught mid-tryst with her Alpha by her own strict, church-going father. And that I was the one who’d led her father there. She’d been forced off the territory. She never had another chance to bother me. I was happy to let Liam play hero. That’s why I never told him. Chloe’s voice yanked me back. “Who said I’m going home? We planned to go three rounds tonight. That was just the warm-up. Next we do it in the car, then at the hotel.” She batted her eyes at Liam, coy. “You don’t want to, Liam? Come on. In the car. Whole new scenery.” Liam’s dark eyes flicked between us. Before he could open his mouth, I spoke first. “Liam. We’re going home. To the main house.” I held his gaze. Right in front of me, Chloe slowly slid her stockinged leg up along his and locked her eyes onto his. “Naughty little outfit,” she purred. “I stashed it in the car. Miss out tonight and I’m not wearing it again.” Liam’s pupils narrowed. Every trace of hesitation drained out of him and left only the animal underneath. “Serena. You go home first.” He’d made his choice. His voice was flat, cold, final. I let my eyes rim red and my face crumple, as if I were being torn in half. “You’re sure?” I whispered. He nodded, then frowned, impatient. “Do as you’re told. Unless you want to be stripped of your Luna status.” I inhaled slowly, feigning the ragged breath of someone whose chest was cracking open. Chloe covered her mouth and let out a small, wicked laugh. “Don’t tell me you want to stay and watch from the driver’s seat? That’d be cruel. For an Omega like you.”

I said nothing. So Chloe leaned closer, right up against my ear, and whispered like she was sharing a secret. “Want to know when the first time was?” “You were miscarrying. Lying in the hospital, weak as a kitten. That’s when we did it—on your bed.” “He pressed me down against the edge of the mattress and took me like an animal.” “Serena. If you’re smart, you’ll dissolve the bond and walk away.” Every muscle in my body locked. Somewhere deep inside me, my wolf was screaming. That baby had been my first. A pup I’d waited for, guarded like glass. And still lost. Liam had made excuses the whole time I was in the hospital. Never stayed. I’d lain in that empty room alone, gritting my teeth just to get through it. So that was where he’d been. I stared at Chloe. “Why?” I whispered. “Why would you do this? You have a mate. He loves you.” Chloe answered as if it were obvious. “Top-tier Alphas like Liam are rare. Leave him with you and somebody was going to steal him eventually. And we’re best friends—might as well be me. As for Shawn… sure, he’s strong. But he’s a stray. A thug. Only Liam is worthy of me.” I checked the time on my phone. Shawn was maybe ten minutes out. I tested her. “Won’t Shawn come after you? You’ve said yourself he has a violent streak. Aren’t you afraid?” At the mention of his name, Chloe’s tone flattened into contempt. “He’s a fool. I crook my finger and he does anything I want.” She smiled, drew a slow circle on Liam’s chest, and lifted her chin. “Worst case, I trick him into breaking our bond. He’s just like you, Serena—too stupid to see it coming.” Not a shred of feeling for her actual mate. “And if he catches you cheating?” I asked. Fear flashed across Chloe’s face. She wound her legs tighter around Liam’s and turned to him, nodding fiercely. “He never will. I train him like a dog. You have no idea how much he loves me.” I laughed quietly inside my head and glanced at my phone. Shawn: *Almost there.* Suddenly, letting them off this easy felt like a waste. I wanted to see it. I wanted to watch a rabid wolf bite. So I turned to Liam with pleading eyes. “I’ll drive for you. Do what you want in the car, then come home to the main house with me. Please?” I performed the perfect, groveling Omega. Liam’s eyes widened. “You—you really can’t be without me?” Chloe was quick to jab in with a sneer. “Serena. How can you be this pathetic? Wagging your tail like a mutt. What are you even hoping for?” I made my expression into that of a woman who had no life without her Alpha. “When we were at the academy, if Liam hadn’t protected me, I don’t know what I would have done. The tuition for those four years came from him. Since then he’s supported me with pack resources. Chloe—I can’t survive without his shelter.” And to be fair, Liam really was strong. First-rate at seizing resources. Under his shadow, I—an Omega—never had to think about money or status. I’d sailed through my master’s, then my doctorate, and settled quietly into position as the pack’s behind-the-scenes strategist. Chloe went still, jaw tightening. Envy warped her face. Liam’s golden pupils narrowed at her, and he let out a small ripple of warning dominance. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Then, to Chloe, in the calm voice of a man reminding an inferior of her place: “I told you from the start—you and I are just fun. Don’t drag Serena into this. And I’m not leaving her to marry you. Or is there… some other reason you want the bond broken?” An Alpha’s suspicion was fatal. Chloe’s face went white. She dropped the arrogance instantly and pressed herself against him, all softness. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want the Omega spoiling our night.”

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