After collapsing at my desk from pulling a string of all-nighters, I dragged my exhausted body to the hospital. The doctor wrote me a prescription for an IV drip, and I settled into the hospital bed, hoping to finally catch some sleep while the fluid did its work. I’d just drifted off when a sharp voice jolted me awake. “You can’t just fall asleep while you’re on a drip alone! What if something happens and no one’s watching?” Her tone was pure accusation. I pointed to the IV alarm clipped to my arm. “I bought this,” I explained, my voice raspy. “It’ll beep when the bag is almost empty.” The young nurse just rolled her eyes dismissively and walked away. A few minutes later, she was back, shaking me awake again. “Why isn’t your little gadget beeping? What if it’s broken? It’s a big deal if we miss changing the bag,” she said, her brow furrowed in exaggerated concern. My head was pounding. I fought back a wave of irritation. “The bag isn’t finished yet. It’ll go off when it’s time.” I turned over, desperate for sleep. The second I closed my eyes, a searing pain exploded across my cheek. The nurse had slapped me. The shock of it ripped me back to full consciousness. She was smiling, a smug look on her face. “Since you trust this alarm so much, why don’t you sign this?” “Once you sign,” she said, shoving a piece of paper at me, “anything that happens to you during this drip has nothing to do with me.” 1 I had fainted at my desk after powering through several sleepless nights to finish a project proposal. My boss, panicked, had rushed me to the hospital himself. He even gave me his blessing to go straight home and rest after the drip, knowing I had to face our demanding client tomorrow. The infusion room wasn’t quiet, but I was so sleep-deprived that the low hum of voices was a lullaby. After one last check of the blueprints I’d brought with me, I finally let my eyes close. I was deep in a dream when a piercing voice shattered the peace. “Hey! You can’t sleep while you’re on an IV, not when you’re here alone!” My eyelids felt like they were weighted down with lead. I tried to open them, but they wouldn’t budge. “Hey! What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me talking to you?” “Don’t pretend! I know you’re awake. I saw your eyelids twitch!” The voice was a drill boring into my skull. Even a corpse would have been woken up by now. I finally managed to pry my eyes open. A young nurse was standing over my bed, hands on her hips, looking down at me like I was something she’d stepped in. “I knew you were faking,” she sniffed. “Making me call you all those times. What, you enjoy the feeling of being waited on?” I recognized her. She was the one who had set up my IV. It had taken her five tries to find a vein. I hadn’t said a word, but she’d been the one with tears welling in her eyes, as if I were the one bullying her. I sighed, my throat raw. “Is there a problem?” Honestly, I had no idea how someone with her attitude became a nurse. Even if I wanted to feel “waited on,” a hospital would be the last place I’d choose. Who enjoys being in a hospital? She gave a slight roll of her eyes. “What’s your deal? Coming in for a drip and not even a boyfriend to keep you company? And then you just pass out. What happens if the bag runs out?” Her voice was high and loud. The room fell silent. Everyone turned to stare at me, as if not having a boyfriend here was some kind of capital offense. Being woken up like that after finally finding a moment of peace was starting to piss me off. Still, I kept my anger in check and asked in the calmest voice I could manage, “Don’t you have nurses who make rounds? When the bag is empty, someone will come change it, right?” This wasn’t my first time getting an IV. On previous visits, there were always nurses keeping an eye on things. You didn’t need a chaperone. That’s why I’d told my boss he didn’t need to have a coworker stay with me. At my words, the young nurse’s thin eyebrows shot up. “Easy for you to say. Can’t you see how many people are in here? How am I supposed to take care of everyone by myself?” she snapped. “Just because you paid for the drip doesn’t mean you can act like a queen and expect us to serve you. Nurses are people too. A little consideration would be nice. We’re not your personal maids, you know.” I wanted to tell her that staffing was the hospital’s problem, not mine. And I wasn’t dying; if I needed a personal maid, I wouldn’t be hiring a nurse. But as I opened my mouth, a wave of nausea hit me. I clamped it shut to keep from throwing up. That just seemed to encourage her. “Hey, you look old enough to know better. You’re not considerate at all. No wonder you don’t have a man here with you.” She then muttered under her breath, “No boyfriend, not even any friends? I can tell you’re not a very popular person.” 2 Rage flared in my chest, making my headache even worse. How did getting an IV drip turn into a referendum on my love life and my character? Are single people not allowed to get sick? I wanted to fire back, but I was too dizzy, too drained. All I wanted was to sleep. I gave a weak wave of my hand. “Thanks for your concern,” I said quietly. “I’ll handle it.” She stared at me. “How are you going to handle it? You gonna call your boyfriend to come over?” I had no idea why she was so obsessed with my non-existent boyfriend. My life was just work, work, work. I was so exhausted I couldn’t even stand the sight of my own reflection, let alone have the energy for a relationship. Honestly, if I did have a boyfriend, I’d be starting to suspect this nurse was his side piece. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said wearily, “but that won’t stop me from handling this.” For some reason, that just seemed to make her angrier. I pulled out my phone, opened a delivery app, and ordered an IV alarm from the nearest pharmacy for rush delivery. I used to use one all the time; it would start beeping when the drip was about to finish. But since I’d come straight from the office, I didn’t have it with me. While I waited for the delivery, I sat up, too afraid of being woken up again to lie down. I glanced around the room and saw the young nurse whispering with another nurse. She was laughing, and she pointed in my direction. The other nurse covered her mouth in shock, then started laughing too. Annoyed, I turned away and took a few sips of water. The alarm arrived quickly. The delivery guy was nice enough to help me clip it onto the IV tube and even tested it to make sure it worked before he left. Just then, the nurse returned. She was changing the IV bag for the patient in the bed next to mine, talking to them in a sickly-sweet, passive-aggressive tone. “You know, some women think they can use their looks to flirt with every man they see. Even the delivery guy. It’s just so classless.” I was just about to lie down, but her words stopped me cold. “Who are you calling a flirt?” I demanded. My eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. The constant interruptions had me on a hair trigger. My glare must have been terrifying, because she flinched and her eyes darted away. “I wasn’t talking about anyone in particular,” she muttered, biting her lip before scurrying off. I fell back onto the bed, completely drained. I’ve never seen this nurse before in my life, I thought, bewildered. What did I ever do to her? She butchered my arm five times and I didn’t say a thing, and this is how she repays me? I should have filed a complaint after the second failed attempt. Muttering curses under my breath, it took me a long time to fall back asleep. I dreamed I had wowed the client. My boss gave me a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus and a month-long vacation. I was cheering in my dream when suddenly, someone shoved me, hard. The sensation was like being pushed off a cliff. My eyes flew open. And there she was. The nurse. A persistent, walking nightmare. She pointed at the alarm on my IV line. “This thing hasn’t made a sound. Are you sure it even works? If it’s defective and we miss the bag change, that could be a problem.” I gasped for breath, my heart hammering in my chest. For fuck’s sake, I screamed in my head. “The bag isn’t finished yet, of course it’s not beeping,” I said, my voice trembling. “It will alert me when it’s time.” The sudden shove had left me shaken, my heart pounding like a drum. The nurse eyed me suspiciously. “Why are you shaking? You don’t sound very confident. Are you lying?” I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm down. “I’m shaking because you scared the hell out of me! And why would I lie to you? What could I possibly gain from that? All I want is to sleep. Please, just leave me alone.” The frustration and exhaustion of being repeatedly disturbed finally boiled over, and my voice rose with each word. Her eyes widened, and tears instantly filled them. I had to laugh, a bitter, humorless sound. With acting skills like that, she should be in Hollywood, not here. The girl started crying, waving her hands defensively. “Ma’am, you must have misunderstood! I was just trying to be helpful, looking out for your well-being.” “You can’t blame me for your heart trouble, that’s not fair,” she sobbed. “You came to the hospital because you were already sick. Your health issues are your own problem, they have nothing to do with me.” 3 The nurse was young, probably just out of her teens, with a pale, innocent-looking face. Her tear-streaked performance was apparently very convincing, because it didn’t take long for someone to jump to her defense. A burly guy from a few beds over yelled at me, “Hey, the nurse is just doing her job! What’s with the attitude?” Seeing she had a supporter, the nurse’s sobs grew louder. “Thank you, sir. I’m just an intern… I’m so glad someone understands.” “If she blamed me for this, I could lose my job,” she whimpered. Her little act unleashed a wave of sympathy. “Come on, lady, she’s just a kid. You remember what it was like starting your first job, right? Don’t make things hard for her,” an older woman chimed in. “Yeah, I saw you when your coworker brought you in. You looked awful. You can’t blame the nurse for you being sick.” “I’ve heard about girls who get super catty and competitive over nothing. I guess they’ll even pick a fight with a pretty nurse…” The chorus of accusations completely chased away any hope of sleep. I sat up straight and fixed my gaze on the burly guy. “You saw me raise my voice at her, but you were blind when she was harassing me over and over?” Then I turned to the old woman. “I may be older than her, but when I was starting out, I knew how to respect people. I told her I have an IV alarm. I specifically asked her not to wake me. But she wouldn’t listen. She waited until I was asleep to bother me every single time. I have every reason to believe she’s doing it on purpose!” I scanned the room. “And all of you, you know I’m not well, yet you’re ganging up on me to defend her. If my condition gets worse because of this, every single one of you will be hearing from my lawyer!” It’s easy to be righteous when it’s not your problem. The moment I mentioned their own potential liability, they all shut up. With her backup gone, the nurse’s performance ended. She wiped away her crocodile tears and stalked off. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and looked up at my IV bag. There was still a fair bit left, probably another half hour to go. I lay back down, thinking, Finally, I can get some real rest. But just as I was drifting off, I heard a sharp smack. A searing pain shot across my face. I jerked my eyes open. The nurse was just pulling her hand back. It hit me. She had just slapped me.

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When I opened my eyes again, I was five years old, on the very day my birth parents brought me back to the Carrington estate. Alistair Carrington, my brother, blocked their path, his finger jabbing toward my face. “Dad, Mom, I made a mistake,” he said, his voice laced with ice. “She isn’t my sister.” Seeing the undisguised disgust on his face, I understood instantly. Like me, he had been reborn with the memories of our past life. Disappointment washed over my parents’ faces. They turned and walked away without a backward glance. Alistair pressed a hard candy into my palm, the cellophane crinkling in the tense silence. “The Carringtons only need one daughter, and that’s Isabelle,” he said, his voice flat. “Your kidney couldn’t even save her life. There’s no reason for you to be here.” Flashes of my previous life seared through my mind: at eighteen, I donated a kidney to the family’s beloved adopted daughter, Isabelle, who was suffering from renal failure. She died from organ rejection anyway. Before I had even fully recovered from the surgery, the Carringtons threw me out. Soon after, my surgical wound became severely infected. I died alone on the streets. … My fist clenched around the candy, its sharp edges digging into my palm. He was right. In our past life, my only purpose to him was as a spare blood bank and organ bank for Isabelle. Since my kidney had failed to save her, and she had died regardless, my useless self had no place in their family this time around. I smiled, but a tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away fiercely, telling myself that the girl from that life, the one who craved their love, was dead. The one living now was me. I turned and walked back to a quiet corner of the orphanage. Not long after, the purr of an expensive engine broke the silence as a sleek black Bentley glided to a stop at the curb. The director scurried out, ushering in an elderly gentleman with silver hair. The orphanage erupted. Children flocked around him like a chattering of sparrows, all vying for his attention. “Hello, Grandpa!” “Grandpa, I can sing for you!” “Grandpa, look at my drawing!” Only I remained in my inconspicuous corner, an outsider to the frenzy. The old man, Mr. Preston, noticed me. He gently moved through the crowd, leaning on his cane as he made his way toward me. “Little one, why are you all by yourself over here? Don’t they like you?” I shook my head and looked up, offering him the candy, now warm from my tight grip. “For you, Grandpa.” I forced a calm maturity into my voice, one far beyond my years. He paused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “Mm, it’s very sweet.” He studied me for a long moment. “What’s your name?” “The director calls me Ava.” “Ava…” he repeated, nodding slowly. “Would you like to come home with me? To be my granddaughter?” The orphanage fell silent. Every child’s gaze, sharp with envy, was fixed on me. Without a shred of hesitation, I nodded firmly. “Yes.” He let out a hearty laugh that boomed through the quiet hall. “Good! Excellent! From this day forward, your name is Ava Preston.” He took my hand, his palm warm and dry. “Ava, it means life, a precious thing. I want you, my child, to become a priceless gem.” I understood the weight of his words, the hope he was placing in me. In that moment, I squeezed his hand back, hard. I became the cherished jewel of the Preston family. Mr. Preston, my new grandfather, treated me like a treasure. He taught me to read and write himself, and shared with me his wisdom on life and character. His own children, my new aunts and uncles, though busy, never failed to bring me fascinating gifts and showered me with genuine affection. But the one who doted on me most was my new brother, Noah, who was ten years my senior. The first time he saw me, a gentle smile broke through his cool, handsome features. “This is our little princess,” he’d declared. “No one gets to hurt her.” It became his mantra. Wrapped in so much love, the scars of my past life began to fade. I threw myself into my studies, consistently ranking first from elementary school through high school. My room overflowed with trophies and certificates from countless competitions. When it came time for college, I chose to study medicine without a second thought. I knew Isabelle’s illness was the unending ache in the heart of the Carrington family. It was also the sword that had once hung over my own head. Twenty years later, I had become one of the country’s youngest and most renowned physicians and medical researchers. Life was peaceful and fulfilling. I believed the Carringtons had vanished from my life forever. Until the day my assistant knocked on my office door. “Dr. Preston, there’s a Mr. Alistair Carrington here to see you. He specifically requested our most expensive consultation to have you see his sister.” The name sent an involuntary jolt through my heart. I took a deep breath, pushing down the surge of emotion, and kept my voice perfectly even. “Send him in.” A tall man in a tailored suit walked in. The boyishness of his youth had sharpened into a handsome, brooding intensity. The moment Alistair saw me, he froze. His deep-set eyes were wide with shock and disbelief. He could never have imagined that the medical expert he had gone to such lengths to find was the sister he had cast away twenty years ago. It took him a long moment to find his voice. When he did, it was thick with suspicion. “You’re Dr. Preston?” I simply nodded. “Mr. Carrington, please have a seat. Tell me about your sister’s condition.” He ignored my invitation, his eyes still scanning me critically. “Are you really a doctor? What are the chances you can actually cure my sister?” His tone suggested I was a fraud, a charlatan. My assistant, standing beside me, could barely contain her indignation. “Sir, Dr. Preston is the leading expert at this hospital. Her time is extremely valuable…” I looked at Alistair, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching my lips. “It seems you don’t trust my professional capabilities, Mr. Carrington.” “In that case, let’s cancel this consultation.” “Chloe, show the gentleman out.” Alistair’s face darkened instantly. He clenched his jaw, but in the end, he turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. My assistant stomped her foot in frustration. “Dr. Preston, that man is so rude! Who does he think he is?” I just gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s fine. He’s just another patient.” To me, it was nothing more than a minor interruption. My life had long since moved on from them. After work, as I was leaving the research building, Alistair appeared, blocking my path. His expression was a dark, complicated storm. My brows furrowed. “Can I help you?” He stared at me, his gaze intense. After a long silence, he finally ground out the words. “I’m warning you.” “I don’t care who you are now. You will not harm Isabelle.” I almost laughed out loud. Twenty years ago, he was the one who cruelly stopped me from being a Carrington, and now here he was, calling me by that name again, warning me not to hurt the very person he chose over me. As if I would waste a single second of my life on her. I looked at him as if he were a raving lunatic. “Mr. Carrington, my last name is Preston. Ava Preston. Please get it right.” “Furthermore, I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t know your sister. As a doctor, my job is to save lives, not to harm them. So why, exactly, would I want to hurt a complete stranger?” Alistair was taken aback, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “You don’t remember me?” He seemed unable to accept it, his voice rising. “Twenty years ago! At the orphanage! I was the one who stopped my parents…” He trailed off, the words catching in his throat, as if even he found his past actions shameful. Seeing his discomfort, a chilling coldness settled in my heart. Of course, I remembered. I remembered every look of disgust, every hateful word. I remembered how he personally pushed me away, shattering every fantasy I ever had about family. But I would pretend. I feigned a moment of deep thought, then let my expression clear into one of dawning realization. “Ohhh,” I drew out the sound. “So it was you.”

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After Grayson Cole broke off our engagement, he immediately started pursuing his young secretary. That secretary, however, had a backbone. She repeatedly rebuffed his advances, claiming she would never bow to money. In the end, though, Grayson bought his way into her heart. The real irony? The woman then gloated to the world, proclaiming that what she truly enjoyed was this kind of pure, simple love. Now, only a year later, word is that their fairy tale has devolved into a bitter war. When I heard the news, I pulled up a chair, grabbed some popcorn, and settled in for the show. 1 “Mr. Cole took a woman home last night.” I didn’t pay much attention when my assistant told me. It wasn’t the first time, after all. “To the house at Riverside Manor.” I snapped the file in my hands shut, my brow furrowing. My engagement to Grayson had been a business merger, and the villa at Riverside Manor was meant to be our marital home. The plan had been to move in after the wedding. I could accept that he didn’t love me. I could even accept him having other women. But I could not accept him so blatantly disrespecting me. I rubbed my temples. “Take me to Cole Corp.” The receptionist saw me and was about to call up to Grayson’s office, but I stopped her. “I want it to be a surprise.” She understood immediately, gesturing for me to go ahead. I took the private elevator straight to the 28th floor. Pushing the door open, I was greeted by quite a scene. Grayson had a woman pinned against the wall. Her face was pale, her expression one of defiant resistance. What was this? Some kind of toxic romance novel fantasy? The girl saw me and shoved the man away. She ran over to me, tears streaming down her face, her voice a mix of hurt and warning. “Ms. Shaw, you need to control your fiancé. I’m not just a prop in one of your rich people games.” Well now, that was a spicy little line. But she was threatening the wrong person. “Then why not just quit?” I asked calmly. “Stay far away from us rich people.” She blinked, stunned, then clenched her fists. “I earned this job with my skills. I haven’t done anything wrong. Why should I be the one to leave?” Stubborn, I’ll give her that. I frowned slightly. “Fine. In that case, I’ll have Mr. Cole reassign you. You just can’t be his secretary anymore.” She was still not satisfied. “I’m a good secretary. Why should I be moved? You wealthy people love to abuse your power.” Right. So now being wealthy was our original sin. Grayson had heard enough. He stepped forward, putting himself between us. “Victoria, stop bullying her,” he said, his voice low and protective. “Anna is too pure-hearted to play your games.” So, her name was Anna. Pure-hearted? Or just simple-minded? Grayson used the excuse to dismiss Anna, then turned to me. “What did you want?” I looked at the man before me—tall, handsome, the picture of a perfect catch—and got straight to the point. “Did you take a woman to our house at Riverside?” He didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled out a checkbook. “Our engagement is off,” he said flatly. “This is your compensation.” I took the check he wrote and glanced at it. A very generous three hundred million. I was a little curious. “Are you sure this woman is what you really want?” Grayson met my gaze, a strange light in his eyes. “I want a wife. A safe harbor. Not someone who comes home after a day of negotiating deals only to start negotiating our personal interests.” “My wife doesn’t need to be strong. I’m strong enough for both of us.” Ah, so that’s where Anna’s strength came in. “Right. I get it.” I pocketed the check and walked away without a second thought. I’d been eyeing the multi-billion South Hill development project, and thanks to Grayson’s friendly contribution, funding was no longer an issue. See? While other women were trapped in some CEO’s twisted power fantasy, I was already soaring. I ran into Anna in the hallway, carrying a tray of coffee. She saw me and immediately stood taller, her chin held high. “Ms. Shaw, I know you look down on love between people like us, who aren’t rich.” “But I’m telling you, if I love someone, it has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not he has money.” Her little speech just left me confused. So… did she like Grayson or not? 2 Fueled by the superpower of cash, Anna was eventually won over. Six months later, they held their wedding of the century at a castle in France. The guest list was a who’s who of high society, and the event dominated the headlines for weeks. Even a year later, people still talked about it with envy. But for those of us on the inside, it was a different story. I ran into Grayson at a birthday gala. He came over with a glass of champagne, trying to make small talk. As he reminisced about our past, I kept my responses polite but distant. He was alone. No Anna in sight. “Trouble in paradise, Mr. Cole? Making you miss your ex?” It was meant as a joke, but his expression turned serious. “What if I said yes? Could we start over?” My face remained a placid lake. I looked at him coolly. “You went to great lengths to win her over. Are you telling me you’re already bored?” A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. I could smell the gossip, but I had no desire to get tangled up with him again, so I resisted the urge to ask for details. I remembered how Grayson had bought out every billboard in the city to declare his love. Subway stations, office lobbies, building light shows—all broadcasting their “pure” romance. It reeked of money, but when a reporter interviewed Anna, she had bashfully claimed, “I just love this kind of simple, down-to-earth affection. I don’t need fancy cars or mansions, as long as he loves me with all his heart.” Right. My mistake. She was wrong about one thing, though. I wasn’t the one looking down on their love. I was just another prop in their game. After the gala, Grayson tried to add me back on social media. I gave him my assistant’s contact info. “If you need something, contact my assistant. He’ll pass it on.” Just because the marriage was off didn’t mean the business had to be. The next day, in a torrential downpour, Anna threw herself in front of my car. She looked like a drowned rat. I took her to a nearby cafe and had my assistant call Grayson. Anna’s jaw was set stubbornly. “Don’t call him. I don’t want to see him.” So they’d had a fight. “You must be feeling pretty smug right now, huh?” she muttered, staring down at her hands. “What would I have to be smug about?” This was ridiculous. Her head snapped up, and she glared at me. “Why are you trying to seduce him? Don’t tell me you’re still not over him.” I scoffed. “I swear, I haven’t even had his number since we broke up.” She didn’t believe me. She pulled out her phone and showed me a video she’d taken the night before. In it, Grayson was drunk, slouched on a sofa, muttering to himself. “Victoria, I can’t forget you. Let’s start over, please.” “Victoria, I was wrong. You’re the one I really love.” I couldn’t listen to any more of it and reached over to stop the video. “As you can hear, he’s the one who’s not over me. I don’t do leftovers.” Anna pushed her luck. “Then promise me you’ll stay away from him from now on.” I leaned back in my chair and flatly refused. “Can’t promise that. We’ll likely have professional dealings.” Before I could react, she threw her cup of coffee in my face. The warm liquid streamed down my cheeks. The cafe erupted in gasps. Someone was already recording on their phone. I pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheek, already calculating how much I was going to bill Grayson for this. 3 Tonight’s headline: #Ex-Fiancée of Cole Corp CEO Exposed as Homewrecker, Confronted by Wife. #Wedding of the Century a Joke as Grayson Cole Cheats. The accompanying photo was of me, coffee dripping down my face, an infuriatingly defiant smirk on my lips. Grayson showed up at my office uninvited. He sat across from me, radiating guilt and self-loathing. The perfect picture of a cheating husband. “Name your price.” I had to admit, dealing with people who spoke my language was much easier. I played coy. “What do you mean?” He chuckled humorlessly. “I know you, Victoria. You always get your pound of flesh. You didn’t go after Anna yesterday because you knew you could get something better from me.” Fine. No more games. “The Crestfall property development. I want in.” “I can give you half.” “Sixty percent.” “Done.” A moment of silence passed, then his clear, low voice filled the space. “Victoria, did you ever love me?”

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The meeting was in full swing when Nicholas’s new executive assistant decided to make her move. She snatched the iced latte from the conference table and, with a swift, vicious motion, flung its contents squarely in my face. The sticky cold shocked my skin. “You think a useless leech like you, who hides in her office playing games all day, has any right to question my proposal?” Her voice was a shrill, grating sound that cut through the silence. Then, she pointed a perfectly manicured finger toward the door. “You’re fired,” she snarled. “Get the hell out. Now.” I rose slowly from my chair, dabbing at the sticky brown mess on my face with a napkin. My eyes found Nicholas. He deliberately avoided my gaze, a frown creasing his brow, but he said nothing. His silence was his answer. He was letting this happen. A small, humorless smile touched my lips. I pulled out my phone and tapped the speaker icon. “Dad,” I said, my voice calm. “I assume you heard all of that?” A pause. “Yeah, someone just told me to pack my bags and get out.” 1 It had started on Monday, as most terrible weeks do. I was deep in a raid, my focus entirely on the screen, when a sharp rap sounded on my office door. “Ms. Ashford? Suzanne asked me to inform all department heads that there’s a mandatory meeting in ten minutes in the main conference room.” It was Maria from Admin, looking flustered. I didn’t look up, my fingers a blur across the keyboard. “Not going. I’m busy.” In the six months I’d been an employee here, I’d made a point of skipping every single meeting. It wasn’t that I couldn’t go; I simply didn’t want to. “But…” Maria hesitated. “Suzanne was very specific. She said no one is excused. It’s an order from Mr. Blackwood himself.” My fingers faltered. On the screen, my character was instantly annihilated by the final boss. As the screen faded to a dismal gray, I cursed under my breath and snapped the laptop shut. The conference room was already packed when I arrived. As soon as I walked in, conversations died down, replaced by a wave of whispers and curious stares. “What’s Olivia Ashford doing here?” “I thought she didn’t do meetings.” “Who knows. Must be Suzanne’s doing. She’s been gunning for her since day one.” “This should be good.” I ignored the gossip, found a seat in the farthest corner, and pulled out my phone to respawn in my game. A full thirty minutes passed before Nicholas Blackwood and Suzanne finally graced us with their presence. Suzanne clutched a stack of files, a triumphant, self-satisfied smirk plastered on her face. “Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here,” Nicholas began, his gaze sweeping the room. It flickered over me for less than a second before moving on. “Suzanne has a major new proposal to announce.” Suzanne cleared her throat and launched into a long-winded speech about her “revolutionary” new marketing strategy. I continued playing my game, half-listening, and the more I heard, the more ridiculous it sounded. The budget was astronomical, and the entire concept was completely misaligned with our company’s market position. “…and so, I propose we immediately invest eighty million dollars to dominate the luxury market within the next three months!” Suzanne concluded, her voice ringing with passion. A few scattered, obligatory claps echoed in the room. I couldn’t help myself. Without looking up from my phone, I said, “For eighty million, you could just throw cash off the roof of this building. You’d get more buzz and better press for your money.” The room went dead silent. Nicholas’s brow furrowed. “What did you just say?” Suzanne’s voice shot up an octave. I finally lifted my head, my expression bored. “I said your proposal is a train wreck.” I ticked off the points on my fingers. “First, your target demographic is wrong. Second, your chosen media channels are ineffective. Third, your entire ROI calculation is a fantasy.” I leaned back in my chair. “That eighty million might as well be flushed down the toilet. At least then it would make a sound.” Suzanne’s face turned a shade of crimson I didn’t think was humanly possible. She grabbed her drink, stormed across the room, and stood looming over me. “You—a lazy, good-for-nothing freeloader who does nothing but play video games—you dare question my work?” she shrieked. And then… splash. The icy, sweet liquid drenched my face, dripping down my neck and soaking the front of my white dress, staining it a sickening brown. The room held its breath, a collective, silent gasp. “Olivia Ashford,” Suzanne bellowed, her chest heaving, “as the CEO’s executive assistant, I’m telling you you’re fired! Get out!” 2 Suzanne glared down at me, a queen banishing a peasant. I stood up slowly, pulling a handkerchief from my pocket and methodically wiping the sticky residue from my skin. Then I looked at Nicholas. He frowned, shifted his weight, and looked away. He chose silence. I actually laughed. A real, genuine laugh. I held up my phone, the call still active on speaker. “Dad, you get all that?” I asked into the receiver. “Someone’s telling me to get lost.” After two seconds of silence, a deep, powerful voice came through the line. “Understood. I’ll make the arrangements.” The only reason I was working here in the first place was because of an old family pact, a betrothal arranged by my grandfather when I was a child. Nicholas Blackwood was my fiancé. I hated the idea of an arranged marriage, but my father had pleaded, pulling out every trick in the book, including the classic “you’re breaking your old man’s heart” routine. So, I’d caved. To “foster our relationship,” my father had insisted I take a position at Blackwood Corporation. For six months, I’d played the part of a slacker, spending my days gaming. But behind the scenes, I was secretly pulling strings, leveraging my family’s resources to quietly steer the company toward unprecedented success. Blackwood Corp’s profits had soared, culminating in a wildly successful IPO that had landed Nicholas a spot on the Northwood City Rich List. Despite my help, our interactions were minimal. During our handful of awkward, stilted dates, I’d realized he knew I was the girl from the family arrangement, but he had absolutely no idea who my family really was. … I sank back into my corner seat, picked up my phone, and resumed the game that had been so rudely interrupted. On the screen, my character respawned, and my fingers flew across the glass, the chaos in the room fading into the background. Suzanne’s face went from red to a blotchy purple. She clearly hadn’t expected me to so thoroughly ignore her. She slammed her hand on the table. “Olivia Ashford! What do you think this is?” she screeched. “Everyone here is working, and you’re playing games?” “I’ve already hit my sales targets for the entire year,” I retorted with a cold smile. “What’s wrong with a little game?” “If you don’t get out, I’m calling security!” “Be my guest,” I said without looking up. The other executives exchanged uneasy glances. Some buried their noses in their files, while others shot nervous looks at Nicholas, waiting for him to act. Finally, Nicholas stood. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, his expression a mask of cold authority. His eyes, when they met mine, were filled with impatience and disdain. “Olivia, your performance has been satisfactory,” he began, his voice quiet but laced with an undeniable command. “But this is a company, not your living room. I need you to leave this meeting now. Do not disrupt it any further.” My fingers paused. My character died again. I looked up, meeting his cold gaze, and let a playful smile curve my lips. “Are you absolutely sure you want to kick me out, Nicholas?” His frown deepened, his voice turning to ice. “I won’t repeat myself. If you have any professional integrity, you’ll know when to stop.” “And if I don’t want to go?” “Then don’t blame me for what happens next.” Seeing Nicholas firmly on her side, Suzanne’s courage surged. She lunged forward and slapped the phone out of my hand. CRACK! It hit the marble floor, the screen instantly spider-webbing with fractures. “Don’t push your luck, Olivia!” she spat, grabbing the collar of my dress and yanking me forward. “The CEO gave you an order! What are you still doing here? Get out!” From the day she was hired, Suzanne had made it her personal mission to make my life difficult. I once overheard her in Nicholas’s office, her voice just loud enough to carry into the hallway. “Mr. Blackwood, this company isn’t a charity. It’s not fair to the other employees that we pay a fortune to someone who just plays games all day.” Nicholas hadn’t responded, but through the glass, I saw his hands pause over a document. After that, Suzanne grew bolder. She’d make passive-aggressive comments in department meetings about my “achievements.” “Some people draw a huge salary but can’t even be bothered to show up for a meeting. I guess some of us are here to work, and others are here on vacation.” Soon, the rumors spread like wildfire. I was a spoiled rich girl who’d gotten the job through connections. I slept in my office all day. There was even a betting pool on when I’d finally be fired. I knew about all of it. I just didn’t care. 3 But my indifference only seemed to fuel her aggression. Now, seeing her chance, her arrogance was off the charts. I was done being patient. I caught her wrist in a tight grip and twisted. Hard. “Ah!” Suzanne cried out in pain, her hand flying open. As she stumbled back, her arm slammed against the edge of the conference table. The sound of crystal hitting solid wood was sickeningly sharp. She staggered, looked down at her wrist, and her face went completely white. A prominent scratch now marred the crystal face of her absurdly expensive Patek Philippe watch, glinting under the overhead lights. “You… you…” she stammered, her hand trembling as she held up her wrist, her eyes blazing with fury. “Olivia, do you have any idea how much this watch costs? It was a birthday present from Nicholas! It’s worth a hundred thousand dollars!” I calmly smoothed the wrinkled collar of my dress. “You were the one who lost your balance. Who’s to blame for that?” “Olivia Ashford!” Nicholas’s voice finally boomed through the room, sharp and furious. “That’s enough! You disrupted a meeting, and now you’ve deliberately damaged personal property. As CEO of this company, I am officially terminating your employment. Pack your things and leave. Immediately.” Suzanne, emboldened, shrieked, “Nicholas, don’t let her off that easy! She has to pay for the watch!” The room was silent. Every eye was on me, a mix of pity and malicious glee on their faces, all of them waiting for the show to begin. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll pay.” I bent down to retrieve my shattered phone. The screen was a disaster, but it still worked. “A hundred thousand, was it?” I was about to dial when Suzanne sneered, “What hundred thousand? I meant a million!” I paused and looked at her. “Are you sure?” “Of course, I’m sure!” she said, her chin held high. “A gift from Nicholas is priceless! A million dollars is a bargain!” She looked around the room for support. “Am I right, everyone?” She was cornering me. She knew my official salary; there was no way I could afford that. This was about humiliation. The other executives, eager to curry favor, chimed in. “She’s right. A gift from the CEO can’t be measured in money,” the CFO said, pushing up his glasses. “You should just pay it, Ms. Ashford.” “This company isn’t a charity. You break it, you buy it,” the head of marketing added with a smirk. “Though at your salary, Ms. Ashford, you’ll probably be paying it off until you retire.” A ripple of cruel laughter went through the room. They had always resented me, and now they were savoring my downfall. Nicholas stood by, his brow furrowed, but he did nothing to stop them. Their taunts didn’t bother me. I looked straight at Suzanne. “One million dollars. Final offer?” Suzanne blinked, then let out a derisive snort. “Olivia, who are you trying to fool? How much do you make in a month? You couldn’t pay that if you sold a kidney.” I ignored her and put the phone to my ear. “I need one million dollars in cash delivered to the Blackwood Corporation conference room. As fast as possible.” Suzanne rolled her eyes. “Please. Who do you think you’re fooling with a fake phone call?” I didn’t answer. I just waited. Less than ten minutes later, the conference room doors swung open. A man in an impeccably tailored suit walked in, followed by three uniformed bank couriers, each carrying a heavy-duty briefcase. The man walked directly to me and bowed respectfully. “Miss Ashford,” he said. “Here is the one million dollars you requested.” I nodded. “Thank you for your trouble. You can leave it there.” One by one, the couriers opened the cases. Stacks of crisp, hundred-dollar bills gleamed under the lights, a breathtaking sight. A stunned silence fell over the room. Every gaze was fixed on the money, the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. Even breathing seemed to have stopped. Suzanne’s face was a mask of disbelief, her jaw slack. She stared at the cash, then at the man in the suit. Suddenly, the CFO gasped, his face draining of all color. “Mr… Mr. Kensington?!” 4 It was James Kensington, president of the largest national bank in the country. A man so powerful that even Nicholas’s grandfather couldn’t get a meeting with him on short notice. And here he was, bowing to me, calling me “Miss Ashford.” Nicholas, after a moment of stunned silence, hurried forward, his hand outstretched. “Mr. Kensington! What an honor. My grandfather speaks of you often, he’s been hoping to see you again.” Kensington didn’t even grant him a full look, offering only a curt nod in his direction. His attention was solely on me. “Miss Ashford, if there is anything else you require, you need only ask.” With that, he turned and led his men out of the room, as briskly as they had arrived. Nicholas’s hand was left hanging in mid-air. His face flushed a deep, humiliating red. Suzanne’s bravado had completely evaporated. Her legs were trembling so badly she could barely stand, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. I casually reached into one of the cases, pulled out a thick stack of bills, and lightly patted her cheek with it. “One million dollars, Suzanne. Not a penny less,” I said coolly. “Now, that watch is mine.” Before she could react, I snatched the Patek Philippe from her wrist and, in front of everyone, dropped it into the nearby trash can. “You!” she gasped, her eyes wide with fury. I turned to Nicholas, a placid smile on my face. “Mr. Blackwood, the watch is paid for. Now, I believe we need to discuss compensation for my phone.” Suzanne, after a moment of shock, burst out laughing, a hysterical, mocking sound. “Compensation?” she jeered, crossing her arms. “It’s a damn phone! How much could it possibly be worth?” I held up one finger. “You’re right, it’s not worth much,” I said. “Only about a hundred million dollars.” The room erupted. First with shocked silence, then with riotous laughter. The Head of Marketing slapped the table. “A hundred million? Olivia, did that iced latte scramble your brain?” The CFO pushed his glasses up his nose, adding with mock seriousness, “Company policy states that damaged items are compensated at market value. I’m afraid your phone’s market value wouldn’t even be a rounding error, Ms. Ashford.” Seeing the room on her side again, Suzanne’s confidence returned. She stepped toward me, a vicious smirk on her face. “Tell you what, I’ll be generous and call a psychiatrist for you. Delusions of grandeur are a serious illness, you know. They need to be treated.”

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Our daughter was only four when a car crash stole her from us. On the day of the hearing, I watched in horror as my husband, Nathaniel, a star attorney at one of the country’s top law firms, stood on the other side of the aisle. He was defending her killer. I sank to my knees and begged him to fight for our daughter, to get justice for Kitty. He looked down at me, his eyes cold. “She’s gone, Brooke. She’s not coming back. Can’t you just let the living move on?” I tried to believe he was just being principled, a slave to his profession. That was until I saw him with my own eyes, holding the woman who killed our child, whispering tenderly, “Isabelle… let’s have another baby.” … Just yesterday, she was a whirlwind of giggles and bouncing curls. Now, my daughter lay still on a gurney in the emergency room, a forest of tubes and wires obscuring her tiny body. My mother was weeping beside me, but my own hands, clutching my phone, were shaking too violently for tears. The call went straight to voicemail, over and over again. Kitty’s lips moved, her voice a faint, muffled whisper. “Mommy…” I choked back a sob, forcing my voice to be steady. “It’s okay, sweetie. Just hold on. The doctors are going to fix you all up, and then you’ll see Mommy again.” But her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, slowly drifted shut, and the only reply from the other end of the line was the same cold, automated voice. “The person you are calling is unavailable. Please try again later.” Two hours later, a doctor emerged from the operating room. I launched myself at him, grabbing his shoulders, my world tilting on its axis. “Doctor, how is she? How is my daughter?” He didn’t resist, his face etched with a weary familiarity for scenes like this. He took a deep breath, his voice laced with a gentle sorrow as he uttered the words that shattered my universe. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Crane. We did everything we could.” The world spun. Images of Kitty flashed through my mind—her first steps, her toothy grin, the sound of her laughter echoing in our home. I couldn’t accept it. The vibrant, living girl from this morning was now just… a body on a cold, steel table. A dizzying roar filled my ears. Through the fog, I heard my mother’s anguished cry. “Oh, Brooke, it’s my fault! I wasn’t watching her closely enough! You have to find the driver, Brooke! You have to make them pay for what they did to my grandbaby!” A crisp, white sheet was pulled over my daughter’s face. I followed the stoic-faced medical staff as they wheeled the gurney down the long, sterile hallway toward the morgue. I was numb, a hollowed-out shell moving on autopilot, my heart a raw, bleeding wound. The silence was broken only by the squeaking wheels of the gurney, until the shrill ring of my phone cut through the quiet. It was Nathaniel. Finally. “I told you not to call me when I’m working,” he said, his voice clipped and annoyed. “I had Kitty’s birthday present sent over yesterday. I’m busy, Brooke. Stop bothering me with trivial things. And I won’t be home tonight; something’s come up.” He hung up before I could even speak. He didn’t even ask why I’d been calling him so frantically. My heart turned to stone. I opened his social media profile. Eight minutes ago, he had posted a new picture. It was taken in a sleek, private lounge. A woman in a tight, white dress was nestled against his shoulder, her head resting on him possessively. A dark mark, a hickey, was starkly visible on his neck. The caption was a single word: Finally. I knew that woman. It was Isabelle, his stepsister, his high school sweetheart, the untouchable, idealized “one that got away.” For her, Nathaniel had missed the last moments of his own daughter’s life. After making the final, horrible arrangements for Kitty, I stormed out of the hospital. The location tag on his post led me straight to them. I found them in a dimly lit corner of the bar, lost in each other. They were so engrossed that they didn’t notice me until I was standing right behind them, my shadow falling over their table. “Brooke? What the hell are you doing here?” Nathaniel’s face twisted in anger. His hand flew up, striking my cheek—a familiar, stinging motion. The pain was sharp, but for the first time, my voice was hard as steel. “Do you know what your daughter’s dying wish was? It was to see you one last time. And where were you? In here, satisfying your own selfish urges.” I expected shock, grief, maybe even guilt. But what I saw on his face was… panic. “Dead?” Isabelle blurted out, her eyes wide. “No, that’s impossible. I had someone check on her; she was only supposed to be injured.” She realized what she’d said and tried to shrink away, but it was too late. “What do you know about this?” I demanded, my intuition screaming. I lunged toward her, but Nathaniel stepped between us. “Brooke, we’re in the middle of something important. We can talk about this later.” “You knew,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You knew something, didn’t you? Nathaniel, she was your daughter!” SLAP! His hand connected with my other cheek. “Brooke, for God’s sake, pull yourself together!” He grabbed Isabelle’s arm and dragged her away, leaving me standing there, stunned and broken. Pull myself together? My daughter was dead, and he was with her killer, telling me to be calm? He couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye to his own child, and now he wouldn’t even help me get justice. The wait for the trial felt like an eternity. I had to have Kitty cremated first. Swallowing my grief, I clung to one last, desperate hope and called Nathaniel, praying he would at least come to see his daughter one final time. Before I could even speak, his angry voice cut through the line. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m busy during the day. My clients have life-or-death matters, and you keep distracting me!” “And what about your daughter’s life? Isn’t that a life-or-death matter? Kitty is being…” My words were cut off by a familiar female voice in the background. “Zoe, come back here. Don’t bother your daddy while he’s on the phone.” Zoe. Isabelle’s daughter. In a twisted way, I had her to thank. If Zoe hadn’t been born, Isabelle wouldn’t have been forced to go abroad and get married, and Nathaniel would never have settled for me, the girl who had worshiped him for years. “That’s enough!” Nathaniel snapped, his attention completely diverted. The line was still open as I heard him rush away from the phone. “Zoe, sweetie, don’t run off. How about Daddy takes you to the amusement park this afternoon, huh?” “Listen to your daddy,” I heard Isabelle coo. Daddy? What a joke. Your real daughter is dead, Nathaniel. She’s about to be turned to ash in a cold, lonely crematorium, and you’re here playing happy families with someone else’s child. I could almost picture the scene—the doting father I had always dreamed he would be for our Kitty. How had he treated our daughter? When Kitty was just learning to walk, he’d make her fetch his drinks. If she spilled a drop, he would scream at her, sometimes even hit her. He never once showed her an ounce of tenderness, never took her to the park. Maybe her death was a relief to him. Ten minutes before the trial began, my lawyer informed me that the defendant wanted to settle. I refused instantly. This was my child, a human life. There would be no settlement. As everyone took their seats, my heart pounded with anticipation. Today, the person who killed my daughter would finally face justice. And then I saw him. My husband, Nathaniel, walked calmly across the courtroom and took his place at the defense attorney’s table. A moment later, Isabelle strode in, dressed like a supermodel on a runway, a relaxed, almost bored expression on her face. When she saw me, a contemptuous smirk touched her lips. I shot to my feet, my chair clattering loudly behind me. In that instant, every last shred of my composure vanished. I flew at her like a wild animal, ignoring the shouts and restraining hands, tearing at her expensive clothes, my fists flying. I was going to rip that smug, fake mask off her face. “Brooke, get a hold of yourself!” Nathaniel threw himself in front of me, shielding Isabelle from my rage. “Are you insane?” I shrieked, my voice raw. “She killed your daughter! She’s the murderer, and you’re defending her?” The realization hit me like a physical blow. He had known Kitty was dead from the very beginning. He knew everything. And he was still here, using all his skill and intellect to protect her killer. My heart felt like it was being carved out of my chest with a dull knife. “If I don’t take this case, someone else will,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm. “I have to make a living, Brooke. I have to support myself.” He looked me straight in the eye. “I’m sad that Kitty is gone, but people die. They don’t come back to life. Why can’t you just let this go?” I stared at him, speechless. How could he stand there, in front of the woman who killed our child, and spout such twisted, self-serving logic? I tore myself from his grasp and slapped him across the face, just as he had done to me so many times. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Brooke… you hit me?” The courtroom descended into chaos, and the judge was forced to call a recess. “Can we talk?” Isabelle approached me, a sly, mocking smile on her face. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I snarled, my hands clenched into fists. “You can’t possibly think I would ever agree to a settlement.” She laughed, a light, carefree sound. “A settlement? Oh, honey. I don’t think I’ll be needing your signature for that.”

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Trapped at home by a raging storm, a familiar cramp seized my stomach – my period had arrived unexpectedly early. I pushed through the discomfort, heading to the utility closet. My plan was to grab the pads and pain relief tea I’d stashed away, but when I pulled open the door, I froze. The shelves were bare, completely empty. A million questions flooded my mind, wondering where everything had vanished to, when my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a social media post from Lily, Liam’s childhood friend. The photo showed her beaming, clutching an entire unopened box of sanitary pads and a pack of pain relief tea. The caption read: “So grateful to my amazing ‘big brother’ for bringing warmth and comfort just when I needed it most! Seriously a lifesaver!” Below that, she’d added: “Ladies, if anyone needs supplies, just message me! These are free to a good home!” 1 I stared at that post for what felt like an eternity. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Why was it that every single time she and I needed help, he always, without fail, prioritized her? It wasn’t until two hours later, when he returned with the empty cardboard box, that I finally snapped out of my daze. He saw me sitting motionless on the sofa and frowned, a hint of annoyance in his expression. “It’s already dinner time. Why haven’t you cooked anything?” I ignored his question, meeting his gaze directly. “Did you see the message I sent you?” After realizing my period had started, and all my supplies were gone, I’d messaged him, asking if he’d moved them somewhere else. He’d never replied. I waited a long time, assuming he was busy. It was only when I accidentally clicked on my social media feed that I discovered, in this critical moment, he’d given all my pads to Lily. And together, they had “selflessly” given away my belongings to people in need. “Yeah, I saw it. So what? You had so much stashed away, you wouldn’t use it all at once. This is an emergency, everyone’s stuck inside. What’s wrong with giving things you don’t immediately need to people who do?” His face was etched with impatience, and I suddenly felt utterly exhausted. The dull ache in my lower abdomen sharpened into an agonizing cramp. If it weren’t for the leftover pads from last month in the bathroom, I truly wouldn’t know what to do. Clutching my throbbing belly, my face pale, I told him, “My period started. You need to figure something out and get me some back.” A peculiar expression flickered across Liam’s face. “Grace, you’re unbelievable. Everyone else has their period, and now you do too? Can’t you be more understanding, like Lily? She knows how to help people in need, why are you so selfish?” Selfish? Me? Last month, when I stocked up during the big sale, Lily had seen me carrying a large box of pads. Shamelessly, she’d looped her arm through his and scoffed, “Big brother, your girlfriend’s demand is huge! Only you could handle someone like that.” She’d yelled it out in public, without a shred of decency. I’d gotten angry and told her to shut up. But she just kept on, “Oh, look, your girlfriend’s all flustered!” Liam looked helpless, but instead of stopping her, he’d adopted a magnanimous air and told me, “Lily’s just boisterous, her heart’s in the right place. Don’t take it to heart.” I looked at Liam, whose eyes were now tinged with a faint anger, and said flatly, “Liam, let’s break up.” “What did you say?” Liam’s eyes widened in disbelief, a ridiculous expression on his face. “Grace, you’re breaking up with me just because I gave Lily some pads?” “Yes, I…” Before I could finish, there was a knock at the door. Lily’s cheerful, bright voice drifted in from the hallway. “Big brother, what good food are you making in there? Hurry up and invite your old man in for a taste!” Before we could even open the door, she’d casually entered the security code and walked right in. Seeing the tense atmosphere, the smile on her face quickly faded. “Big brother, did you upset Gracie? I told you before, women get angry easily! Whether it’s your fault or not, you have to apologize right away!” 2 Hearing her words, it felt like a needle had pierced my heart. Liam and I had been together for three years. Every time we argued, I was always the first to back down. I didn’t want trivial things to harm our relationship. But half a year ago, when Lily returned from studying abroad, after our arguments, he started to apologize and try to cheer me up. I thought he’d finally grown up. But it turns out, his apologies were because he’d listened to Lily. Yet, before that, I’d cried and asked him, “Can’t you just try to comfort me?” He’d looked annoyed and retorted, “It’s not my fault, why should I apologize or comfort you?” Just like now, hearing Lily’s words, he frowned deeply and retorted coldly, “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” Then, his gaze fell on me, tinged with a slight disappointment. “Grace, why do you always compare yourself to Lily?” “Last time she was in a car accident and hospitalized, and suddenly you said you were in a car accident too. This time her period started, and now yours has too? Can’t you think before you lie? Is playing the same trick over and over fun?” Half a month ago, when Lily called him crying late at night about a car accident, Liam and I were still out shopping. When he got her call, his expression instantly tensed. He said, “Lily needs me right now. You go home first, I’m going to check on her.” Then, ignoring my pleas for him to stay, he turned and quickly left. He didn’t know that shortly after he left, two rough-looking guys emerged from an alley. They held me up with knives. In my fear, I gave them everything in my bag. But they thought it wasn’t enough, and their lewd gazes fell on me, trying to drag me into the deserted alley. Filled with terror, I struggled with all my might. I finally managed to break free and ran, only to collide with an oncoming car. Luckily, the driver stopped in time, and I only suffered a minor concussion. As I stumbled out of the observation room, feeling dizzy, I saw a familiar back carrying a lightly scraped Lily out of the hospital. When I got home, I told him I’d been in a car accident and wasn’t feeling well. But he looked at me with a strange, distant gaze. “Lily had a car accident, and you had one too? What a coincidence. Grace, there’s a limit to how much you can sensationalize things.” Even now, he still didn’t believe me, thinking I’d lied to get his attention. Before, I would have tried to defend myself. Now, I just felt tired. I quietly watched him. Before I could speak, Lily said with a look of sudden realization, “Oh, so you’re arguing about the pads! Gracie, you should have said something sooner. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have given all the extra ones to the neighbors.” “I only have enough for myself right now. If you want some, I’ll go get them for you right away. Just don’t be mad at Liam.” Hearing that, I was unexpectedly infuriated. All those things were mine. How did they become hers in her mouth? And she was offering to “bestow” them upon me? “Those were originally mine. If you want to return them, return all of them to me.” Liam looked at me disapprovingly, his eyes full of accusation. “You know perfectly well those things were given to the neighbors. How is Lily supposed to give them back to you? You’re clearly trying to make things difficult for her!” “If she can’t return them, then pay me back the original price.” I silently opened my payment QR code and handed it to her. “That’s three hundred and twenty dollars in total. If you don’t believe me, I have the receipt. Do you want to see it?” 3 A flicker of anger crossed Liam’s eyes, and he said in a low voice, “Grace, I think you’ve lost your mind! You’d better stop this, don’t keep acting out!” With that, he took Lily and walked out of the house without looking back. But if he’d had even a sliver of concern for me, he would have noticed the bloodstain spreading on the sofa where I sat. I endured the cramping pain in my lower abdomen, trembling as I stood up. The tears I’d been holding back in my eyes silently streamed down my face. The habit of stocking up on pads was something Liam had taught me. The year we first got together, he was away on a business trip, and my period started unexpectedly. I sat alone in the bathroom, remembering the days my mom would make me use toilet paper because she couldn’t afford pads. I had no choice but to improvise with paper again. That time, I got a serious infection. When Liam found out, he was both angry and heartbroken. His eyes red, he told me, “Next time something like this happens, you have to tell me. Grace, you’re not alone anymore, you have me.” From then on, even if I forgot to keep some at home, he would regularly buy them for me. I hadn’t understood before. Why, after Lily came back, everything changed. Now, I finally understood. In his heart, I would always be second to Lily. After Liam left, he had nowhere else to go. So he stayed at Lily’s place. That night, lying in bed, I was about to tell my best friend about breaking up with Liam, when I accidentally clicked on Lily’s social media. She had updated her status three minutes ago. The photo showed Liam, wearing a Pikachu apron, busy in her kitchen. I couldn’t hear what she said, but he turned and smiled in response. His gentle, relaxed smile was captured perfectly by the camera. The caption read: “Look at the apron my big brother is wearing! Doesn’t it suit him? He didn’t want to wear it at first, but I coaxed him, and he agreed! I can’t believe how easy he is to win over!” Neighbors who were also friends with me commented below: “Oh, Lily, if a man doesn’t truly care about you, no amount of coaxing will work! The easier he is to win over, the more he loves you!” “Exactly! My husband was like that when he was young. I’d say one thing and he’d be hooked. Now love has turned into kinship; I could be hanging myself and he’d think I was just exercising.” Reading those comments, I couldn’t help but recall my first argument with Liam. It was raining heavily, just like today. He had promised to pick me up from work. But I stood outside the company for two whole hours, and he never showed up. Later I found out, on the day he stood me up, he was with Lily, watching a movie. When I found out, I threw a huge fit. Liam angrily stormed out and didn’t come back for a week. I didn’t want to lose him, so I swallowed my pride and apologized. It took a week of coaxing before he finally agreed to come home. Compared to my desperation back then, Lily’s words made all my genuine efforts in the past seem like a ridiculous joke. I silently exited her social media and got up to pack Liam’s belongings. The apartment we were living in now was rented by me. I’ve always been sensitive and insecure since childhood. I didn’t want to use Liam’s money, nor did I want to live in his house. So when he suggested moving into his place, I flat-out refused him. Looking back now, my choice then was the right one. Otherwise, I can’t imagine how embarrassingly I would have had to move out of his house. I put all his things into cardboard boxes. Then, meticulously, I wiped away every trace he had left in this home. Once I finished, I went to bed, finally content. 4 The next day, good news spread through the residents’ group chat. People could now gradually use the stairs to go down to the second floor to collect relief supplies. I had terrible period cramps last night and couldn’t sleep. My face was pale and lifeless, so I thought I’d let others go first. I’d go down a bit later, to avoid the crowds. But when I finally felt well enough to go downstairs, there were only a few supplies left. Liam and Lily had somehow become volunteers. They were distributing the supplies. When it was my turn, Liam’s eyes darkened. He took half of the vegetables and necessities from the bag and said blandly, “You live alone now, you don’t need that many vegetables. Let’s give these to someone who needs them more.” Hearing his self-righteous, unapproved arrangement, I instantly snapped with laughter. “These were already pre-portioned. Did I agree to your arrangements?” “Gracie, even though these were pre-portioned, you reported two people on the list. Liam is staying at my place now, so his share should go to me.” Lily feigned generosity, lecturing me. It sounded reasonable, but the vegetables he’d picked out were all Lily’s favorites. What was left were the ones I disliked. I pursed my lips. My throbbing abdomen wouldn’t allow me to argue with them here. I took the bag she handed me and turned to leave. But then, Lily’s startled cry came from behind me: “Oh my god, Gracie, why is there so much blood on your pants?!” At her words, disgusted and scrutinizing stares converged on me from all directions. I felt exposed, utterly mortified, frozen in place. “If you were on your period, you should have said something sooner. How could you do something so embarrassing just to spite Liam?” I was shaking with anger, I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and walked towards her. In her surprised gaze, I lifted the bag of vegetables and swung it at her. Before she could react, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. Gritting my teeth, I said, “If someone hadn’t been a thief, stealing my things to play the hero, would I be like this?” Liam quickly reacted. As I was about to raise my hand to hit her again, he grabbed my arm and scolded, “That’s enough! What does your public humiliation have to do with Lily? Why do you always blame your mistakes on others?” I’d hit her, and I’d forgotten about him. I smirked faintly, and with my free hand, I slapped him across the face. “Get lost. Anyone has the right to scold me, but you don’t!” With that, ignoring his anger, I shook off his hand and walked away. Back home, I changed my clothes. I took all his belongings and dumped them at Lily’s doorstep. I thought after this, he’d realize I was serious about breaking up and wouldn’t come looking for me again. But to my surprise, when I woke up the next morning, and opened the fridge to make breakfast, everything inside was gone. Not only that, but the rice and noodles on my pantry shelf were also gone. Before I could even react, my phone in my pocket started vibrating incessantly. I tapped on the furiously messaging residents’ group chat, and I felt myself trembling with anger. Liam and Lily had just posted pictures of fresh vegetables and rice and noodles in the group. And they had asked the administrators to tag everyone, telling them that if anyone in the building needed supplies, they could get them for free from apartment 503. The neighbors in the group chat were full of praise for their righteous actions. I, however, pulled out my phone and quietly called the police. The group chat continued to buzz. “The couple in 503 are truly exemplary young people of our time! Such selfless acts deserve commendation. After this storm passes, we must ask the property management to award them a banner of recognition!” “Exactly! When you two get married, Auntie will definitely give you a big red envelope to thank you for your selfless contribution!” “Resident of 502, aren’t you a reporter? You absolutely must report on the good deeds they’ve done, so everyone can see the true kindness that shines through in times of hardship!” Lily was gloating over this, wondering how to respond, when the property manager suddenly tagged her in the group. “Ms. Chen, Mr. Lin, please come to the second floor as soon as possible. Someone has reported you for breaking and entering and theft. The police are on their way.”

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I gently touched my flat stomach, my gaze turning ice-cold as it landed on the man standing in front of me. A man I had known for seven years, who now felt like a total stranger. Nate had just returned from his corporate deployment in Colombia, but he didn’t come back alone. Standing right beside him was a heavily pregnant woman with a deep, sun-baked tan. His eyes darted everywhere, terrified to meet my gaze. His voice dripped with pathetic guilt. “Avery, it was the booze. I swear to you. I had way too much to drink that night, and I made a massive mistake.” “Her name is Jessica. She was my local translator down in Bogota. She helped me out of some really dangerous spots during the project. Letting her keep this baby is just giving her a lifeline.” “Don’t panic, okay? You and I are still getting married. Once the baby is born, I’ll send her straight back to South America.” “The kid is innocent, Ave. You wouldn’t want me to be a deadbeat dad, right?” He practically begged, trying to paint his betrayal as some noble sacrifice. The very last shred of hope in my chest shattered into dust. I let out a dry, mocking laugh and gave him a single, emotionless nod. “Okay.” I turned my back on them, pulled out my phone, and scrolled down to a number I hadn’t called in a very long time. “Let’s get married,” I said the second the call connected. 1. Nate looked entirely too guilty to even glance in my direction. Jessica stood close to him, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of his expensive suit sleeve. She played the part of a terrified victim perfectly, but the look she shot me over his shoulder held a sickening flash of absolute triumph. Nate was still rambling, desperately trying to justify the nightmare he brought into my home. “You have to understand, the slums where Jessica grew up are brutal.” “She saved my life down there, Avery. I couldn’t just leave her pregnant with my flesh and blood, living in fear in a place like that.” My heart didn’t even ache anymore. It had gone entirely numb. Before this deployment, we had been planning our wedding. I had waited for him to come home so we could finally pick a venue. Now, his words felt like a backhand across my face. A sharp cramp twisted low in my abdomen. I looked down, hiding the agonizing pain in my eyes. I was hiding my own poorly timed secret, too. The lab results confirming I was three months pregnant were sitting right inside my designer purse. I had practically been vibrating with joy this morning, counting down the seconds until I could tell Nate he was going to be a father. Clearly, that conversation was never going to happen. A bitter smile touched my lips as I looked at Nate’s pleading face. I slowly nodded. If this was how it was going to be, then I didn’t want this man anymore. He was garbage, and I was throwing him out. Nate was so wrapped up in the relief of my apparent agreement that he immediately turned to comfort Jessica. His voice was sickeningly sweet. “See? Don’t be scared. I told you Avery is the kindest, most reasonable woman in the world.” He completely missed the absolute zero-degree blizzard raging in my eyes. Listening to him praise my “kindness” made my blood run freezing cold. Looking at them, they looked like the real couple. I was just the extra. I turned on my heel and walked out the door in total silence, pressing the phone to my ear. The line picked up on the second ring. Rowan’s voice filtered through the speaker. He still had that same lazy, arrogant drawl from our childhood. But the moment he heard my voice, he went dead silent. When he finally spoke again, his normally smooth tone was actually trembling. “Avery. Are you dead serious right now?” His words rushed out in a frantic blur, as if giving me a second to breathe would make me take it all back. “No takebacks, Ave. It’s done.” “I’m booking the next flight out of London. Wait for me.” The line went dead with a soft click. Staring at the disconnected screen, the tight knot between my eyebrows finally relaxed. But the cynical laughter bubbling up in my chest only grew louder. I had been with Nate for seven grueling years. Every single time I brought up marriage, he brushed me off. He said he needed to establish his career first. He said we needed more money. Earlier this year, I practically handed him a million-dollar contract on a silver platter. He finally bought a ring. He finally proposed. And then, three months in South America was all it took to destroy everything. Yet, there was another man. A man who only needed three words from me to drop his entire life on another continent and fly home. I shook my head, pushed open the heavy glass doors of the building, and headed straight for the hospital. 2. The doctor stared at my charts, her brow heavily furrowed. “Ms. Davis, are you absolutely certain about this?” “Given your medical history, a successful pregnancy is a miracle. Are you really sure you want to terminate?” A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I had spent my entire twenties building Nate’s empire alongside him. I had entertained his clients, drank myself sick to close his deals, and run my own health straight into the ground. My body was wrecked. The older I got, the harder it became to conceive. This baby was a complete surprise, but it was a surprise I had prayed for in secret for years. Meeting the doctor’s tragic, sympathetic gaze, I simply closed my eyes and gave a firm nod. The procedure was quick. By the time I walked out of the recovery wing, my face was as white as a sheet of paper. I was taking slow, agonizing steps toward the main lobby exit when I turned a corner and walked right into Nate and Jessica. Nate was so hyper-focused on his new pregnant girlfriend that he didn’t even look where he was going. He slammed his shoulder hard into mine, sending me crashing onto the hard linoleum floor. A sharp cry ripped from my throat. A cold sweat immediately broke out across my forehead as raw pain shot through my recovering body. Hearing my voice, Nate finally snapped his head down. Shock and panic flooded his face. He lunged forward and tried to haul me up by my arms. “Avery? What the hell are you doing at the hospital?” “Are you okay?” I ripped my arms out of his grip. I opened my mouth to tell him to back off, but Jessica beat me to it. She suddenly grabbed her stomach and let out a bloodcurdling shriek. “Nate! Oh my god, my baby! My stomach hurts so bad!” All the color drained from Nate’s face in an instant. His panic over me vanished, entirely replaced by a terrifying, protective rage. “Avery, did you do this on purpose?” he roared. Jessica gripped Nate’s sleeve, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Nate, what if something happens to our baby? I’m so scared!” Nate shot me a look so full of venom it actually took my breath away. He scooped Jessica up into his arms, shoved me back down to the floor with his boot, and sprinted down the hall toward the emergency clinic. Before he disappeared, he threw one last threat over his shoulder. “If anything happens to my kid, Avery, I swear to God I will make you pay!” I sat collapsed on the freezing hospital floor. Passersby stopped and stared at me in pity, rushing over to help me stand. A hollow, miserable laugh escaped my lips. I thanked the strangers, ignored their sympathetic whispers, and dragged my broken body out of the building like a walking joke. 3. The second I dragged myself into our apartment, my legs gave out. I collapsed into bed and fell into a dark, feverish sleep. I had no idea how many hours passed before large, rough hands started shaking my shoulders. Nate stood over my bed, looking entirely too self-righteous. “You’ve been home this whole time? I’ve been shouting your name from the foyer. Are you deaf?” I swallowed down the wave of nausea and forced myself to sit up, glaring right at him. “I need to rest. What do you want, Nate?” He shifted his weight, looking the tiniest bit uncomfortable. “Do you have any idea how reckless you were today?” “Thank God Jessica is fine. The doctor said she just needs strict bed rest.” I had zero energy to deal with his delusions. I turned my back on him and pulled the covers up, ready to go back to sleep. But Nate wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice rising in demand. “Jessica is coming here to recover.” “She doesn’t know a single soul in this country. She needs someone to look after her 24/7 right now.” “You’re a great cook, Ave. You can make her those organic meals and help build her strength back up.” My lungs completely locked up. I was suddenly seized by a violent fit of coughing. Watching me choke on air, Nate didn’t show a single ounce of pity. Instead, he just started barking orders. “The master bedroom has the best lighting and the most space. It’s perfect for a pregnant woman. Clean your stuff out and give it to Jessica.” I swallowed the bitter taste of bile burning in my throat. My voice came out like cracked ice. “And where exactly am I supposed to sleep?” Nate waved his hand like I was being ridiculous. “What about the guest quarters down by the laundry room? Just take the maid’s bed.” “It’s not forever, Ave. Just until she pops the kid out. Be reasonable.” 4. I stared at the face of the man I had worshipped for seven years. His handsome features, the ones I used to trace with my fingers while he slept, suddenly looked twisted, hideous, and pathetic. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I started laughing. I laughed so hard my ribs screamed and hot tears spilled down my cheeks. Seeing my manic reaction, Nate’s ego took a hit. His tone turned instantly aggressive. “Avery, we already talked about this! I told you she was keeping the kid!” “You literally agreed to this this morning! What the hell is this psychotic act for?” My laughter died instantly. I violently wiped the tears from my face. Before I could tear into him, the bedroom door slowly pushed open. Jessica stood in the doorway, trembling like a frightened doe. Her English was heavily accented, dripping with fake, sickening concern. “Nate, please. You cannot fight with Avery because of me.” “If my baby brings you trouble, I will pack my bags right now.” Her voice cracked with perfect theatrical timing. “I can go back to the slums. It is okay. I am used to suffering.” Her manipulative little speech worked like absolute magic. Nate’s face flushed dark red with furious protective instinct. “Avery, knock it off right now!” he screamed at me. “I made a mistake! A mistake literally any guy would make if he was lonely enough!” “I already promised I’d put a ring on your finger! But Jessica and this baby are my responsibility too!” “What do you want from me? Do you want me to be a garbage human being who abandons his own child?” The words I was about to scream at him died in the back of my throat. I was staring at a monster I didn’t even recognize. Taking my silence as submission, Nate puffed his chest out with arrogant pride. He pulled Jessica into his arms, petting her hair and lowering his voice to a gentle purr. “Didn’t the doctor tell you to stay off your feet? Go rest in the living room. I’ll handle things in here.” Jessica looked up at him with wide, worshipful eyes. “I trust you, Nate. You are my hero. I just hate seeing Avery so mad at you.” He gently kissed the top of her head. The intimacy of it made my stomach violently revolt. I couldn’t stand the sight of them for one more second. I threw the blankets off and walked right past them toward the door. But Jessica’s shrill voice stopped me in my tracks. “Avery, wait. You should take this.” 5. Jessica walked over to my bedside table and picked up a silver picture frame. It was the photo from the night Nate proposed. In the picture, I was crying tears of pure joy, and Nate was looking at me like I hung the moon and the stars. Jessica held the frame out to me, taking slow, deliberate steps in my direction. The terrified act was gone. Her lips curved into an incredibly wicked, mocking smirk. I took a step back, totally disgusted by the thought of her touching me. Suddenly, she let go. The heavy silver frame crashed onto the hardwood floor. The glass shattered into a hundred jagged pieces. Before I could even blink, Jessica threw herself backward and let out a blood-chilling scream. “Avery, if you hate me, just hit me! Do whatever you want to me once I deliver!” “Why would you try to hurt my baby?!” I stared down at her miserable acting routine, a cold smirk forming on my own lips. But Nate was completely blind. He charged into the room like a rabid dog. He grabbed the collar of my silk pajama shirt, twisting the fabric so tight it choked me. “Avery, you vindictive bitch! Are you out of your mind?!” “How can you be so evil? She’s carrying my child!” I clawed at his hands, trying to breathe, but his grip was like iron. Down on the floor, Jessica clutched her perfectly fine stomach, wailing at the ceiling. “Avery, I swear I didn’t mean to steal him. We were just so drunk.” “I don’t want your man. I’m leaving the second the baby is born.” “But this baby is an innocent soul. Please, don’t punish an unborn child for our sins!” Hearing her hysterical crying pushed Nate over the edge. His face contorted with absolute hatred. He shoved me backward with all his strength. He aimed right for my stomach. I crashed backward, hitting the sharp corner of the vanity before crumpling to the floor. The surgical pain flared up so bright and hot I folded perfectly in half, unable to breathe, let alone speak. Nate simply bent down, scooped his mistress off the floor, and glared down at me with supreme disgust. “Don’t act like a victim, Avery. I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.” “What is this pathetic little act anyway? Are you going to pretend you’re pregnant too?” He sneered, his lip curling up. “If you have a problem, take it up with me. Keep your filthy hands off Jessica and my kid.” He turned on his heel and carried her out of the room without looking back once. His heavy boots crunched right over our shattered engagement photo, grinding the memory into the floorboards. Covered in a layer of cold sweat, I reached out a shaking hand and pulled the torn photograph from the glass. When Nate had proposed, he had sworn on his life that he would never betray me. He had looked at me with such fierce, unshakable devotion. Just minutes ago, those exact same eyes had looked at me like I was radioactive trash. Without a single drop of hesitation, I ripped the photograph down the middle. The love was dead. Keeping this stupid piece of paper would only infect the rest of my life. 6. It took a long time for the agonizing fire in my pelvis to fade. I dragged myself off the floor, took a scalding hot shower to wash away the sticky sweat, and began violently throwing things into my suitcases. This penthouse was supposed to be our marital home. I had poured my soul into this place, turning an empty glass box into a warm, inviting sanctuary for our future family. Now, the walls felt like the jaws of a beast trying to swallow me whole. I threw out the customized artwork we made together. I trashed the matching mugs. I threw away every single thing that had his fingerprints on it. By the time I was down to just my basic clothes and my passport, I was panting, completely exhausted. Just as I zipped up my final piece of luggage, the front door clicked open. Nate had taken Jessica for a walk. They stepped into the master bedroom. Nate took one look at the completely barren room, paused, and then nodded with a huge, satisfied grin. “I knew you’d come to your senses, Ave.” “This is perfect actually. Jessica didn’t really like your taste in bedding anyway. We’ll just buy everything brand new.” My jaw practically hit the floor. I stared at him, utterly stunned by his sheer, sociopathic audacity. My body was too weak to even scream at him. I simply turned around and grabbed the handle of my suitcase. Nate immediately stepped in my way, blocking the door. “Hey, make that seafood risotto you’re so good at. Jessica is starving.” “You can finish organizing your little maid’s room later. Pregnant women need to eat constantly to keep their blood sugar up.” “Whatever. You’ve never been pregnant, so you wouldn’t get it anyway.” “Just get in the kitchen.” Even knowing I was leaving him, hearing him casually dismiss my fertility felt like a knife twisting straight into my ribs. I stared blankly down at my own two hands. Before I met Nate, I didn’t even know how to boil water. I was a spoiled rich girl who ordered takeout every night. But Nate loved home-cooked meals, so I spent months burning my fingers and chopping my own skin just to learn how to feed him. A hollow chuckle escaped my throat. I didn’t bother arguing. I pulled my purse over my shoulder and stood up straight. Nate was horribly impatient. He shoved my shoulder, physically pushing me toward the staircase. “Come on, move. This is your duty now.” “Thank God Jessica is built tough. If she was fragile, she would have lost the baby with all the times you’ve attacked her today.” 7. Jessica hovered safely behind Nate’s broad shoulders, playing the traumatized victim to perfection. Hearing him defend her, she peeked her head out timidly. “Avery, please don’t be mad. I promise I’m not trying to take your place.” I stared at her with dead, shark-like eyes. She rested a hand on her swollen belly. Her voice was sugar-sweet, but the glare she shot me was pure poison. “I really appreciate you cooking for me, Avery. I hate being a burden, but the baby is just growing so fast.” I rolled my eyes at her absolute garbage acting. But Nate bought it hook, line, and sinker. He practically melted. “You are so brave, Jess. Seriously.” “Avery understands. She’s not holding a grudge.” My stomach did a violent flip. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from vomiting, shoved past them, and walked straight for the top of the stairs. Seeing me completely ignore his authority, Nate’s fragile male ego snapped. He roared my name down the hallway. “Avery Davis, what the actual hell is your problem?!” “I told you I let your little temper tantrum slide! I forgave you for assaulting my pregnant girlfriend!” “Why are you still walking around with that miserable dead look on your face?!” He lunged forward to grab my arm and drag me back. But Jessica beat him to it. She closed the distance and clamped her hand around my wrist like a vice. “Avery, are you still punishing me?” “I’ll get on my knees and apologize, okay? Just talk to us!” Her grip was brutal. I felt her sharp acrylic nails bite deep into the tender flesh of my inner arm. The sharp pain triggered my survival instinct. I violently yanked my arm back with everything I had left in the tank. The momentum threw my balance completely off. My foot slipped on the slick hardwood edge of the top step. Gravity ripped me backward. I tumbled down the long marble staircase, my bones cracking against the stone over and over again. The last thing I saw was the ceiling spinning wildly before everything went pitch black. 8. When I finally dragged my heavy eyelids open, I was blinded by fluorescent lights and assaulted by the sterile stench of bleach. The private hospital room was entirely empty. I stared blankly at the ceiling tiles, my brain thick and sluggish with painkillers, trying to piece together how I survived. The heavy door clicked open. Nate strolled into the room. He looked incredibly annoyed, completely devoid of any real concern. “You awake?” I slowly turned my head away, offering him the side of my face. Nate walked over and tried to grab my hand. I ripped it away like his skin was made of acid. “Come on, Ave. You tripped and fell like an idiot, but the doctors say nothing is broken. Stop being so dramatic.” When I continued to treat him like empty air, his irritation spiked into outright anger. “What, are you going to run around telling people Jessica pushed you?” He scoffed, his face twisting into an ugly sneer. “You are acting completely insane. If Jessica hadn’t begged me to go easy on you, and if you hadn’t taken that spill down the stairs, I would have dumped you on the street for what you did.” But it was his next sentence that truly gutted me. “You’ve been incredibly hostile to Jess. So, to make up for it, we made a decision.” “When Jessica’s kid is born, we’re putting your name on the birth certificate as the mother.” “It’s a win-win. You finally get to live out your little fantasy of being a mom.” “Since you clearly can’t give me a kid of your own.” I had spent countless nights lying on Nate’s chest, whispering about the names we would give our future babies. We had picked out nursery colors. We had built a whole imaginary life. And now, he was pouring battery acid directly into my open wounds. I closed my eyes. My heart rate stayed perfectly flat. My voice came out dead and calm. “We are done, Nate. The engagement is over.” 9. Nate reacted like I had just punched him in the throat. “Over?” “Avery, what fresh hell is this?!” “Stop acting like a psychotic child!” He scrubbed his hands aggressively over his face, pacing the side of the bed. “You’re almost thirty, Avery! Who the hell else is going to put up with you?” “Jessica is literally giving you her baby as a gift! You should be on your knees thanking her!” A dark, incredibly twisted smile slowly spread across my face. I looked him dead in the eye and enunciated every single word. “I don’t want your bastard kid, Nate.” Nate’s jaw dropped. He looked utterly paralyzed, opening his mouth to scream at me again. But a nurse suddenly burst into the room, out of breath. “Sir! Where is the family for Jessica? Her blood pressure is spiking!” Nate’s anger vanished. Panic washed over his features. He spun toward the door but pointed a shaking finger at me. “This is all your fault! You caused this stress! You owe her, Avery!” My smile only grew wider and colder. I hadn’t missed the tiny, victorious smirk Jessica shot me right as I was tumbling down those stairs. I watched his desperate, pathetic back disappear into the hallway and let out a genuine laugh. I closed my eyes, letting the quiet of the room sink in. A few minutes later, the door clicked open again. A familiar, deep voice echoed in the room. “Jesus, Avery. I leave you alone for one day and you end up looking like a car wreck.”

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1 The day after I bought my new car, the brakes failed catastrophically. I was violently thrown from the vehicle, lying on the ground barely clinging to life. My wife, Sienna, rushed to the scene after getting the news. But the first thing she did was snatch the dash cam, completely ignoring my agonizing pleas for help. I was rushed to the hospital, fighting for my life for days, with one critical condition notice after another. During this time, Sienna vanished as if she’d evaporated into thin air. She was nowhere to be seen. Later, doctors confirmed permanent nerve damage. I would spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, reliant on medication. It was then that I learned Sienna’s beloved crush, Quentin, had won an award for his thesis on brake technology improvement. And I was his so-called “test subject”! The hospital contacted Sienna to inform her of my condition, but she coldly retorted, “Tell him to stop faking it. Quentin’s experiment is perfectly safe; he’s probably just scraped his knee!” … After years of marriage, my wife, Sienna, gave me my first truly expensive gift… a cutting-edge concept car, worth a fortune. Who knew that the very next day, on a winding road, the brakes would fail? No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it from accelerating wildly. To avoid hitting innocent people, I had no choice but to swerve hard and crash into the mountainside. Just as I was about to hit, Sienna called. I answered, and with a heavy heart, said goodbye to her. “Where are you?!” she cried, frantic. At the time, I was relieved, thinking she was worried about my safety. But later, I realized that wasn’t it at all. I told her the address. The moment I finished the last word, the car slammed into the mountain, and I was thrown out. Luckily, there was a dense thicket of bushes nearby. With something to cushion the impact, I didn’t hit the mountainside directly. But I heard the sound of my entire body’s joints shattering. A gash on my head bled profusely, obscuring my vision. I couldn’t see what was happening in front of me, only feeling a car pull up on this rarely traveled road. I cried for help, a weak whisper of “Help me!” That’s when I saw a familiar figure. It was my wife, Sienna. But after getting out of the car, she walked straight towards my vehicle, which was already starting to smoke. I thought she was coming to save me. I was even worried about her safety, desperately throwing pebbles, afraid the car would explode. But she stubbornly pried open the car door with a tool and got in. At that moment, my tears and blood mixed, and seeing her actions, I assumed she was trying to rescue me. However, after she retrieved the dash cam, she walked over and glanced at me. In that instant, her eyes were chillingly indifferent. “Sienna! Save me… save me…” She merely said to me, coldly, “Quentin’s waiting for the brake test results. I don’t have time to help you. You won’t die anyway, just bear with it.” Then, her car drove off. And on that remote mountain road, it was a full half-hour before anyone discovered me. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, my brain had been deprived of blood for a long time, and I had broken bones and fractures throughout my entire body. The doctor urgently called out, asking if there were any family members. “Family! Quickly notify his family, his condition is too severe, it’s very likely… he won’t make it.” A young nurse frantically searched through my belongings for any contact information. She unlocked my phone with my fingerprint and found the top-pinned contact. She dialed. That familiar voice answered, and after less than thirty seconds, she just snapped, “Aren’t you annoying? I told you I’m busy. Go home by yourself after the hospital, don’t bother me.” The call was hung up. Everyone exchanged bewildered glances… The young nurse dialed again, but the call was immediately disconnected. I don’t know how it was eventually resolved, but until I was wheeled into the operating room, I never saw Sienna. 2 “This patient is so unfortunate. How many days has he been hospitalized? He’s been resuscitated several times, but there’s not a single family member here.” “The hospital even covered his medical expenses.” “Poor guy. They say he’s facing paralysis; his nerves are damaged.” The nurse spoke as she changed my dressing. My body was almost entirely fitted with steel pins to fix the shattered bones, and I couldn’t move at all. I could even smell a gradually unpleasant odor coming from myself. The nurse patiently helped me change my adult diaper. I nodded, wanting to thank her, but the words wouldn’t come out. The young nurse quickly said, “Don’t talk, don’t strain your wounds. Don’t be embarrassed, we’re all taking care of everyone in this critical care ward. I’ll be happy as long as you recover and get discharged.” She smiled and left. It was visiting hours for the critical care ward. Family members outside walked in an orderly fashion. Almost every room had a family member accompanying the patient, except mine. The head nurse watched from a distance, and I heard her ask the nurse, “His parents are apparently gone, and he only has a wife. You said for so many days, we couldn’t even reach her.” “We finally got through, but she kept hanging up.” By now, I couldn’t shed another tear. My entire body ached to death. Just then, my test results came back. The doctor walked over with a grave expression. “Mr. Jiang, I have some bad news for you.” My eyes were fixed on the doctor. I had already guessed, but couldn’t quite believe it. When she personally said there was an eighty percent chance of permanent nerve damage, rendering me unable to walk and requiring lifelong medication and a wheelchair, I broke down. “We still need to call your wife to inform her; this is a very serious matter.” She personally dialed Sienna’s number on her own phone. The moment the call connected, it wasn’t Sienna’s voice that answered. “Is that brother-in-law? I won an award today, and Sienna threw a party for me. She drank too much, so she’s not coming home. She’s resting at my place. Don’t call anymore, Sienna says you annoy her.” He chuckled after saying that. “Goodnight, brother-in-law. Get some sleep, don’t get yourself worked up.” The instant he hung up, the head nurse was already cursing under her breath. I tried to move my fingers, to tell them there was one more person they could contact. They finally noticed when I knocked the medicine box beside my bed onto the floor. They handed me my phone. I laboriously slid my finger, found that number, and as the head nurse dialed, my body trembled uncontrollably. I didn’t know if she would still answer my call, or if she even remembered me. “What’s wrong?” A voice answered. The head nurse skillfully explained the situation. The other party immediately sounded anxious. “Thank you so much. I’ll buy the next available flight and try to arrive by midnight.” The moment the call ended, my heart finally settled. Until midnight, the head nurse and the nurse taking care of me waited for that person. But after a long wait, no one appeared. Just when I thought I was going to be abandoned again, someone rushed in, looking disheveled. “Hello! I’m Jean, Ethan’s sister. How is he doing now?” The head nurse, seeing her striking resemblance to me, quickly said, “Not well. He’s inside. We’ll take you in.” The moment my sister saw me, her eyes turned red. For twenty whole years, after our parents divorced, I hadn’t seen my sister. Even when our parents passed away, we each handled our own funerals. The first time she called me was when I got married. She prepared a lavish dowry for me but didn’t attend the wedding. I once thought she didn’t want to acknowledge me as her brother. But I never expected her to rush here by plane from out of town when I was injured and close to death. 3 “Where’s his wife?” When Jean asked that question, everyone present fell silent. Until the head nurse, with a voice full of indignation, said, “Even when we reached her, she wouldn’t come. She thought the patient was faking it…” My sister didn’t speak, but her clenched fists and trembling body told me of her anger. That night, she signed countless critical condition notices, watching me being resuscitated again and again, powerless, she could only press her face against the glass window. The last time I was wheeled out of the operating room, she stared at me for a long time. “It’s okay. Sister has money. I’ll do everything I can to cure you.” My sister ran up and down, contacting the best doctors for me, arranging expert consultations, and even preparing to sell her house to pay for my treatment. That night, I experienced multi-organ failure, leading to a massive emergency resuscitation by the entire department. After twelve hours of surgery, I saw my wife, Sienna, for the first time. She walked past me, arm-in-arm with Quentin. Quentin even glanced at me and said, “He’s practically dead, isn’t he? Still trying to save him?” Sienna tugged at him, quickly covering his eyes. “Don’t look at such unpleasant things, it’ll affect you. Right now, what’s important is getting Ethan’s injury data to complete your report.” “You’re the best, Senior Sister! If you hadn’t volunteered to let your husband be my data test subject, I might not have graduated with my doctorate.” Data test subject? When I was wheeled into the critical care ward, Sienna was asking the nurse about my room. “The one admitted for a car accident, Ethan Jiang. His injuries shouldn’t be serious. Which room is he in?” The nurse glanced at her. “Are you the patient’s…?” “I’m his wife…” As her words fell, the nurse pointed to me, who had just come out of a 12-hour surgery. “That’s him… the one just out of surgery, that’s your husband.” “What?!” She looked utterly incredulous. The facts were undeniable, yet Quentin put his arm around my wife and said, “Is brother-in-law really faking it so convincingly?” Sienna still seemed a bit nervous, but she quickly pulled Quentin away and left, still without visiting me. Thanks to my sister’s persistence, my condition improved. The day I was moved out of the critical care ward, I could already sit up in bed. The experts my sister hired were truly skilled. I smiled, praising them. My phone, however, kept buzzing. When I opened it, it was flooded with news about Quentin winning an award for his brake system test. Because of the success of his experiment, which advanced car safety, he was lauded by major media outlets. In one interview, a reporter asked, “Such large-scale tests require real human test subjects. Traditionally, it’s usually the researchers themselves, or their family and friends, and it often comes with a great cost. Therefore, those willing to be test subjects usually have a very close relationship with the researcher. Mr. Quentin, your test subject…” Quentin looked at Sienna, who was sitting below. “My test subject loves me very much.” At that moment, the room erupted. And today was Quentin’s award ceremony, a grand affair at the city’s central performing arts center. I checked the time, opened the cloud backup of my dash cam footage on my phone, and called the police. “Hello, I suspect Mr. Quentin and Ms. Sienna are involved in attempted murder.” 4 The moment I hung up, I felt the fire in my heart hadn’t extinguished at all. By now, I was basically certain that I was the test subject for Quentin’s experiment, and without my knowledge, Sienna and Quentin had swapped out my car’s brakes. The day after I got the car, Sienna asked me to run an errand for her, specifically picking that little-traveled road. That’s why she was able to arrive so quickly after my accident. It meant she had been following not far behind, calculating the data. So, I unknowingly became a sacrifice. And I no longer had legal guardians in name; only she, my wife, had the right to decide my fate. Whatever happened seemed to have no impact on Quentin. She was truly considerate. After understanding all this, my hands trembled uncontrollably. My sister, Jean, came in with food. “The doctor said you can have a small amount of liquid food, so I bought some for you. Eat up.” She carefully blew on it to cool it, then repeatedly checked to make sure it wouldn’t burn me before giving it to me. Just as I finished eating, Jean was wiping my mouth when Sienna’s sharp voice cut through the air. “Ethan! I knew why you wouldn’t leave the hospital! Turns out you have another woman taking care of you here. Who is she?!” Sienna hadn’t shown up until now, and her first appearance was to spread rumors. Behind her, Quentin followed, looking like he’d been crying. The two of them stormed over. Sienna grabbed my wrist and demanded, “Did you call the police on us?” “Go explain everything to the police right now!” Behind the two of them, not only were there police officers, but also several reporters. After all, Quentin’s project was huge this time, attracting a lot of attention, and I called the police during his award ceremony. Seeing how quickly they arrived at the hospital, they must have been desperate to clear Quentin’s name. Sienna, clutching my arm, whispered in my ear, “Ethan, this experiment is very important to Quentin. Just say you filed a false report out of jealousy and help him out this once. I’ll remember this good deed of yours, and I’ll treat you well in the future.” Treat me well? I’d heard that phrase too many times, from our marriage until now, every time she made a mistake, it was that same line. At first, I was young and thought she had time to change, but now I wasn’t that fool anymore. I ignored her words. Sienna, however, was confident I would obey. She said confidently to the police, “I told you, my husband was just unhappy and deliberately filed a false report. We’ve certainly wasted your time, and I apologize on his behalf.” The reporters whispered amongst themselves. Quentin proudly said, “Brother-in-law, you can’t just be jealous of me because you haven’t achieved anything, can you? This time, I can’t let it go for Senior Sister’s sake. You must apologize to me.” As he spoke, the police officers’ expressions turned grim. “Mr. Jiang, if you really just filed a false report as a joke, it constitutes an illegal act and could result in administrative detention. Are you sure?” When the police asked, Sienna immediately interjected, “Yes, I’m sure! But seeing as he’s still seriously ill, can’t you postpone the enforcement for a few days?” Hearing her words, my sister kept looking at me, wanting to know my opinion. I spoke directly. “I didn’t file a false report. I have evidence.” At that moment, Quentin, who had initially been condescendingly badmouthing me to the reporters, instantly turned his head to look at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “What nonsense are you talking?!” Sienna said. “You’re the one talking nonsense,” my sister yelled at her. At this, Sienna suddenly found her voice. “Everyone, my husband must want to be with this other woman, that’s why he’s deliberately trying to get me locked up. This must be fake, even if there’s evidence, it’s fabricated, you can’t believe it.” I smiled helplessly and said to her, “Take a closer look… This is my real sister, Jean, the one who left with my father, the one I told you about!”

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Five years later, my memories were extracted and broadcast live on giant screens around the world. A massive, stark “”Wronged”” blared at the top of the screens. The crowds instantly erupted. Someone questioned, “”Isn’t this the mastermind behind that massive international smuggling case? He’s been dead for five years, so why is he stirring up trouble again now?”” Another person angrily declared, “”It’s him! He caused his fiancée to fail her mission, breaking her legs, condemning her to a wheelchair for life! Who is so blind as to try to clear his name?!”” Recalling the past, I was the most wanted criminal in the capital, and the one who personally brought me to justice was my childhood sweetheart and fiancée, Violet. She personally escorted me to the execution ground, her voice chilling: “”Flynn, I once told you that the next time we meet, I would personally take your life.”” Ultimately, I fell under the gun that belonged to my foster father. 1 “”Flynn, that ingrate, poisoned old Chief Cohen and caused the death of our youngest sister, Lucy! He’s a heartless monster! Who stole his brain chip from the evidence locker to clear his name?!”” In the cemetery, eldest sister Anya stared at the two tombstones before her, then at the global broadcast playing across the sky, her voice laced with seething anger. Violet had just wiped the mist from Chief Cohen’s tombstone. Her fists clenched, veins bulging, as she looked at the sky screen. Second brother, Alex, supported Violet, looking down at her empty trouser legs. Instantly, tears streamed down the face of the man known as the police force’s heartthrob. “”Honey, if it weren’t for our third brother, you wouldn’t have lost your legs! And our fourth sister, Lucy…”” Alex looked on the verge of collapsing in tears. Violet sat in her wheelchair, suppressing the rage between her brows, yet she gently consoled him, “”Alex, you’re still unwell. Don’t let your emotions fluctuate too much. Don’t cry for someone who isn’t worth it!”” Watching Violet, who once said she would love me forever, her hand now tightly clasped in Alex’s. This scene sharply pierced my heart, which had long since stopped beating. I couldn’t help but speak out to correct them: “”I didn’t kill Chief Cohen, and I didn’t…”” But no one heard my voice. Violet stood tall and resolute, like an unyielding pine tree. At this moment, she looked again at the massive “Wronged” character on the sky screen, which was constantly dripping blood, then snapped at Anya. “”Stealing right under your noses, are you all useless?!”” “”Go investigate! Anyone who dares to clear Flynn’s name is making an enemy of me, Violet Cohen!”” Anya’s face was filled with cold fury. “”Flynn, that traitor!”” “”If I had known he’d turn out so rotten, I should have kicked him out the moment Chief Cohen brought him home!”” I never thought my most trusted sister would use the word “”traitor”” to describe me. Those two words twisted in my heart like a knife, causing me to convulse with pain. Chief Cohen was a kind soul; he adopted many orphans. Anya was the eldest, Alex was the second brother, Lucy was the fourth sister, and I was the third. Only Violet was his biological child, our youngest sister. Chief Cohen dedicated his life to his beloved career. He always told us to be loyal to our country, loyal to its people. Yet now, I was branded as the 21st century’s biggest and most heinous criminal, destined to live in infamy as a disgrace to justice. The sky screen in front of the courthouse was packed with people, who discussed my wanted poster: “”Wasn’t he and Julian the main culprits in that massive international smuggling case five years ago? I seem to remember Flynn’s father was the most wanted criminal twenty years ago, and he was even personally killed by Chief Cohen’s team.”” “”This Flynn, Anya, Alex, and Lucy are all orphans adopted by Violet’s father. Except for Flynn, the rest of the children are all exceptionally talented. He’s truly a lost cause, born evil!”” “”Chief Cohen lost both his legs and was forced to retire because of him. And yet, this useless Flynn, for money, went to work for Julian, the head of that international crime syndicate!”” Countless vicious curses transformed into black mist, seeping into my limbs, tearing at my soul. Just then, the screen’s image began to move, A pain from the depths of my soul gnawed at my heart, as if an invisible hand was using iron tongs to wrench memories from my brain. Violet, looking at the face that appeared on the sky screen, her eyes red, struggled to control the tremor in her voice, “”Dad?!”” On the screen, Chief Cohen, ruler in hand, angrily made Violet kneel in the courtyard, and strictly forbade us from bringing her food. This wasn’t the first time Violet had taken the blame for me and been punished by Chief Cohen. I’d stolen a few steamed buns from the kitchen, intending to bring them to her. I just happened to see Chief Cohen hitting Violet’s back again with the ruler. “”Serves you right! You’re only sixteen and you dare to think about getting married? Did Aaron agree, that you’re so eager for my approval!”” “”Dad, you believe me! Aaron also said he’d be good to me! Please just let me marry him!”” Listening to Violet’s words, I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, mouthing to her, “”I promise to love you and protect you forever!”” But the beautiful past memories did not evoke any sadness in Violet; instead, they ignited a furious humiliation in her eyes. It was as if this memory from the past had become a blood-stained blade, once again deeply piercing her already broken heart. Alex’s tears instantly welled up. He sobbed, choking out, “”Violet, I miss Dad so much. If only Dad were still alive…”” At the mention of Chief Cohen, Violet instantly gripped her wheelchair tightly, her fingers clenching so hard that blood welled up. She pounded on the wheelchair, roaring. “”Why! Why! Has the person who stole Flynn’s brain chip not been found yet?!”” Anya shook her head in silence. “”Little sister… the surveillance footage is still being restored, and the signal source is being traced. The tech department hasn’t given us any news.”” And my memories continued to play, At twenty-one, I was sentenced to a year and six months for intentionally causing grievous bodily harm at the police academy. The first thing I did upon my release was break up with Violet, who had come to pick me up. Violet, confused, asked me why, and even said, “”Aaron, everyone’s waiting for you to come home for dinner.”” My disgusted gaze swept over her. “”Ha! Spending another second with those orphans, those kids without a proper upbringing, makes me sick!”” “”I beg you, don’t really think of yourself as a savior, okay? From childhood to now, I’ve absolutely hated your meddling!”” Violet grabbed my arm, her eyes full of urgency, “”Aaron, didn’t you promise you’d marry me a long time ago? What’s wrong with you?”” My face was etched with cruel madness. “”Violet, you’re really shameless. Do you really want to marry the person who killed your dad?”” My words stunned her, and tears instantly filled her eyes. The crowd in front of the sky screen also erupted in a frenzy. “”Beast! Sure enough, dirty blood flows in his veins, he’s ungrateful!”” “”See! Flynn personally admitted to killing old Chief Cohen. Why do good people get no reward, while this beast can get away with murder for so many years, and then kill so many more?!”” “”Chief Cohen worked so hard to raise Flynn, he probably never expected this ingrate to bite him to death, did he?”” At this point, an old man stroked the head of a child next to him and said in a deep voice. “”Child, remember! You must never become a person like that!”” Hearing those words, my heart felt like it was smashed to the ground, torn into pieces, bleeding profusely! At this moment, I realized there was something even more agonizing than being called “”traitorous to one’s master”” and “”disgrace to the police force””— In the eyes of these future generations of the nation, I had become synonymous with crime, a classic example of a negative role model. “”Flynn!”” In the scene replayed, Violet, unable to control her anger any longer, punched the wall, her hand bleeding profusely. I watched this scene, a sudden bitterness welling up in my heart. I trembled, reaching out to touch her hand, but my ghostly form could only pass through her again and again. “”No, no, Violet, can’t you listen to my explanation?”” I shook my head frantically, the sharp pain in my heart making my soul tremble, my eyes burning. Alex watched the blood flowing from her hand, heartbroken, tears streaming down his face. “”I saw Flynn poison Dad back then, but I couldn’t believe he would actually do such a thing. It’s all my fault.”” Anya’s eyes practically spat fire. “”How can you blame yourself for this? Flynn was a wolf in sheep’s clothing! Even I couldn’t see through him!”” Hearing Anya’s heart-wrenching words, I cried out in despair, “”No! It’s not what you think, I…”” Before I could finish, a piercing pain swept over me. I felt a familiar aura around my brain chip, but my head was splitting, and I could only watch helplessly as my memories were torn from my soul. The sky screen changed again, the timeline advancing two years. At twenty-three, I single-handedly stormed into Julian’s territory. Violet, as Julian’s confidante, stood beside her. The crowd immediately erupted, “”Oh my god! Captain Cohen is there too! That useless Flynn wouldn’t betray her, would he? You know Julian’s methods are not just any kind of ruthless!”” “”Exactly! You know, no matter who it is, to successfully go undercover, the price is not just any ordinary big deal. Back then, I heard Captain Cohen even personally tested poisons for this mission.”” Even though everyone knew the outcome, people continued to pray to the sky screen. But the next second, ignoring Violet’s warning glance, I said to Julian, “”I advise you to stop the transaction immediately. The cops are already lying in wait at the door, waiting for you to bring out that shipment!”” “”Because…”” My right hand slowly rose. As Violet’s face dramatically changed, my tone was decisive. “”She, Violet Cohen, is the undercover agent!”” In an instant, the entire place exploded. “”Flynn, that bastard, actually betrayed Captain Cohen! Just to show loyalty to Julian? Did a dog eat his conscience?!”” “”Flynn’s father, Patrick, being caught probably had something to do with Julian too, right? I heard a rumor that Julian was an informant for the organization back then, then betrayed them and rose again with the people Patrick left behind!”” “”Stabbing Patrick in the back and stabbing the police in the back, black on both sides! Those two are truly a perfect match!”” The paused image on the screen began to move again. In the dungeon, Violet’s hands were chained, suspended in mid-air, her wrists raw, bone exposed. She was utterly tortured, more beast than human, as if she’d just been dragged from a pool of blood. Julian watched, chuckling, as I picked up a red-hot branding iron and rolled it fiercely across Violet’s chest. “”Is this your initiation, Mr. Flynn?”” The sound of burning flesh was bone-chilling; soon, it was a bloody mess. I sneered, smashing the bones in Violet’s knees with a hammer, my hand not even trembling. “”Julian, I can give you far more than this!”” With that, the blade in my hand easily pierced Violet’s chest. At the same time, all the viewers in front of the sky screen covered their mouths, Anya’s anger almost squeezed through her clenched teeth. Her eyes red, she spat, “”Flynn! You’re an animal!”” “”Ah—”” With a bloodcurdling scream, Violet’s body slumped to the ground, her breath gone. Julian’s roar scraped against my eardrums like a chilling wind. “”Who told you to kill her?! Dying quickly is too easy for her!”” But Violet was already lifeless. After Julian, as usual, tossed her to the cops as a provocation, I was tied up and punished by a furious Julian. She stuck silver needles one by one into my fingers, forcing me to endure the excruciating pain while fully conscious. The scene was too brutal, and some onlookers couldn’t bear to watch any longer. “”Julian really lives up to her name, ‘Satan.’ Her methods are truly venomous!”” “”If Flynn hadn’t gone easy, Captain Cohen would probably be…”” Alex angrily pointed at the woman who had spoken. “”Gone easy? Are you crazy? If Flynn hadn’t known Violet’s heart was on the right side, she would have died! Don’t forget, Violet’s legs were personally broken by Flynn!”” “”Wait, her heart?!”” Violet’s expression suddenly became odd. Before she could think it through, the sky screen moved again. When Violet clearly saw who the two people on the sky screen were, her eyes widened abruptly. In the image, I dragged Alex by his hair into the dungeon, his body scraping against the rough stone floor, leaving a long trail of blood. Julian sat calmly on the sofa, applauding, a mysterious smile on her lips. “”Interesting, interesting! Flynn, you truly are Patrick’s son! So much like your dad!”” “”If I’m not mistaken, this Alex is supposed to be your brother, right? He just came to advise you to turn yourself in. No need to beat him so badly, is there? Oh, look at his miserable state, even I’m starting to feel a little soft-hearted.”” Under Julian’s playful gaze, I splashed a bucket of salt water over Alex’s head. The intense pain made Alex’s eyes snap open instantly. When he saw me, like a demon before him, he cried out in terror, “”Aaron, what are you… what are you going to do?”” With my back to Julian, I brutally snapped Alex’s arm bone. “”Idiot! Spent too much time with Violet and now you think you’re a savior too? Give it a rest!”” “”Ah—”” Alex let out an even more horrific shriek. The dungeon door opened, and several men approached Alex with evil grins. I waved them over, motioning for the men to take him away. “”Don’t worry, these men will make you feel good and comfortable. Consider it repayment for your ‘kindness’ in trying to save me!”” Julian’s laughter was gleeful. “”This show is truly captivating. I can’t help but applaud your ‘deep’ camaraderie!”” “”Since that’s the case, how about I give you two brothers another grand gift?”” Violet’s eyes were bloodshot as she watched the scene, unable to hold back a mouthful of fresh blood that she coughed out. Alex covered his face, weeping profusely. Anya’s eyes flashed with furious coldness. “”That animal! He actually brought men to…”” My actions completely ignited the anger of the audience. They hurled every vile curse imaginable at me. “”How could he do that?! Just one bullet to kill him is too merciful. I wish I could dig up his corpse and feed it to the dogs!”” The image on the sky screen froze at that moment, and the person sent to search for the whereabouts of my brain chip appeared at the courthouse entrance. He handed the detector to Violet, and my brain chip’s location clearly showed up on the map as being inside the courthouse. Violet’s eyes were filled with shock. “”How dare they show up here?”” “”Damn it! They chose this place to clear Flynn’s name! I’ll risk everything to kill that person!”” Anya’s chest heaved with anger. She looked at the frozen image on the sky screen above the courthouse dome, a ruthless glint in her eyes. Violet, her face ashen, ordered, “”Anya, search inside the courthouse as fast as you can!”” Just as Anya was about to agree, a face appeared on the large screen before her, a face she would never forget in her lifetime. Julian had her men bring in my fourth sister, Lucy. Lucy was the last child Chief Cohen adopted, and she was the most attached to me, besides Violet. More importantly, she was in love with second brother, Alex.

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Five years later to the day, I walked into the interview room under a new identity: Arthur Stone. Sitting at the head of the table was a rising star in the business world, Leslie Reed, a woman I once had a complicated history with. Her gaze lingered on my photo. “Twenty-eight? Already have a child?” she asked, her tone detached. Meeting her probing stare, I calmly replied, “Yes, my name is Arthur Stone. Married with one daughter.” The man I am today is no longer the disgraced young master with a large birthmark on his face, mocked by others. I changed my name and removed that birthmark. Naturally, she wouldn’t recognize me. Flashback to five years ago, the day my family went bankrupt, I forced Leslie Reed to spend one last night with me. Waking up the next morning, I threw the last of my money at her. “You can get out now. Go find another rich man. You don’t have to demean yourself by serving an ugly freak like me anymore.” Afterward, I was driven out of my home by the asset liquidators, the birthmark on my face a laughingstock for all to point at. Meanwhile, her friends gloated, congratulating her: “With a beautiful face like Leslie’s, how many rich and handsome men are lining up? Why would you ever stoop to that ugly man?” “Now that he’s bankrupt, he surely won’t bother you anymore.” From impoverished campus beauty to business magnate, Leslie Reed took five years to transform. And I, too, completely reinvented myself in those five years, starting anew with a fresh identity. 1. I never imagined the resume I submitted would land in Leslie Reed’s hands, for her to formally interview me. The moment I pushed open the door, my breath hitched for a second. Leslie Reed sat at her office desk, a cascade of long hair falling behind her. A pair of rimless glasses perched on her elegant nose, and her slender fingers were turning the pages of my resume. Her gaze shifted from my photo to my face, her expression cool and aloof: “Arthur Stone? Graduated from Sterling University? Applying for a personal assistant?” She tapped her finger on the desk, then lazily lifted her eyelids. “Do you know what a personal assistant does?” “To put it crudely, it’s a housekeeper. I have a lot of daily tasks, and you’ll need to pay attention to many details.” She continued speaking, but my thoughts drifted to the night we parted years ago. That year, she wore a faded shirt, awkwardly straddling me, tearing at the buttons of my collar, kissing me without any grace. I forced a cynical laugh: “I’m bankrupt now. You don’t have to work so hard. “You must be the happiest one, finally free from having to debase yourself to serve a freak like me. My face must disgust you, right? “Don’t worry, even bankrupt, I can still afford to buy one more night with you.” She remained silent, her beautiful eyes betraying no clear emotion, as if ashamed yet indignant, before skillfully nestling into my embrace again. When it ended, I threw a card at her, buying out my absurd first half of life. “Made up your mind?” Her finger tapped the desk, her voice cold and sharp, her pupils calm and dark. She hadn’t recognized me. I instinctively touched my face; the large bluish birthmark was gone, as were the red rashes caused by layers of makeup. The man I was now had a slightly gaunt face, unadorned, plain and unassuming, completely unrecognizable from before. Not to mention I’d changed my name. “Yes, I have.” I suppressed the swirling emotions, resuming a temporary, false calm. “Excellent. You can start today. Mr. Evans will brief you on the situation.” She raised her hand, dismissing me, without another glance. I discreetly exited. The moment the office door closed, my suspended heart finally settled. If I could, I never wanted to have too much contact with Leslie Reed again in this lifetime. She was the unattainable beauty of the academy; dirty, despicable, bitter, and ugly were my epithets. It was I who insisted on using money to buy out and crush Leslie Reed’s self-esteem. And selfishly, I made her bear me a daughter. Tragically, our daughter has now been diagnosed with a brain tumor and requires surgery. Like an unbreakable karmic bond, it had come full circle, and for the sake of our child, I found myself back at her company. For the next few days, I was somewhat distracted. My daughter’s surgery was imminent, and there was so much to prepare. The third time I asked Leslie Reed for leave, her answer was merciless: “Last time. Next time, don’t bother coming in.” I knew. But today was my daughter’s birthday, and she so desperately wanted to go to the amusement park. With the surgery imminent, I was truly afraid there wouldn’t be another chance. Gritting my teeth, I still played with my daughter at the amusement park until the afternoon. On the way back, the sky suddenly opened up with a torrential downpour, and we huddled under a street awning. Just as I opened my phone to call a ride, my daughter suddenly broke free of my hand, wobbling after a dropped toy. By the time I reacted, she had already dashed into the rain. Watching a distant car speed out of the rain, my heart leaped into my throat. Just as I was about to scream, a fair hand, quicker than mine, snatched my daughter back. “Arthur Stone!” Amidst the pouring rain, the woman’s voice was cold and low. I stared up, dazed, as if in a dream. Leslie Reed stood before me, tightly holding my daughter’s hand. She didn’t have an umbrella; water streamed ceaselessly down her hair, cheeks, and chin, soaking her expensive suit. Her eyes were as aloof and stern as ever, but now, a hint of suppressed anger showed through. “Thank you, Ms. Reed…” I hurriedly hid my child behind me, not prompting her to say thank you as usual. Leslie Reed glanced at us, her tone leaving no room for argument: “Get in the car.” 2. Leslie Reed’s cold demeanor was too intimidating. I led my daughter into the car, my heart pounding, unconsciously crumpling my clothes. Water still dripped from the stray hairs on her forehead. She picked up a towel and handed it to me: “Don’t let the child catch a chill.” I was still stunned, but Sunny had already taken it, thanking “Auntie” in a clear voice. Leslie Reed’s expression softened considerably. Her gaze fell on my bewildered face, and she frowned again: “You took leave today just to get soaked in the rain?” Realizing her words sounded a bit sharp, she rubbed her throbbing temples. “Where to?” “City Hospital.” Sunny spoke up first, defending me: “Daddy is here with me for my birthday today. I haven’t been out to play for so long because I’ve been in the hospital.” Leslie Reed paused, looking at the unafraid girl before her. Her face was somewhat thin, with a sickly pallor that made her large eyes appear bright and round. When she blinked at people, it stirred a strange, indescribable emotion in Leslie Reed’s heart. She felt the child was vaguely familiar, and almost instinctively asked: “Where’s the child’s mother?” “She passed away. A long time ago.” I quickly spoke, the first words I uttered since getting in the car. Of course, it was a lie. Of course, after I left without a word, Leslie Reed hadn’t escaped the abyss. She became pregnant, and for some reason, insisted on having the child. Rumors swallowed her whole like a tide. At twenty-three, she gave birth to a baby girl in a small clinic on a street corner. Without even looking at the child, she was told by the doctor that the baby had suffocated and couldn’t be saved. It was as if it was destined, she thought. She and that man were destined for no happy ending. But she didn’t know that the child hadn’t died; I had taken her abroad. A person like her, how could I let her life be ruined by something as dirty as me? “Thank you, Ms. Reed. My child has been a bit busy recently with some issues, but it won’t happen again. I’ll make sure to complete my work properly.” As my words fell, Leslie Reed’s gaze shifted from my daughter to me. On the woman’s beautiful, stern face, her dark eyes were deep, making my heart skip a beat. I instinctively looked away. Leslie Reed had nothing more to say, leaning back in her seat, closing her eyes to rest. She simply instructed the driver, “To City Hospital.” The car quickly arrived at its destination. Leslie Reed got out first. She pulled out a black umbrella, her slender fingers lightly clutching the handle, gesturing for me to get out. “Thank you, Ms. Reed, no need to see us off. I’ll return the umbrella tomorrow.” I mumbled, just wanting to escape quickly. “I only have one umbrella.” She stood in front of the car door, her light voice sounding before me. The implication was clear: if I lent it to you, what would I use? I had no choice but to give up, holding my daughter and sharing the umbrella with her. Being so close to her, Leslie Reed could faintly smell the laundry detergent clinging to my shirt. For some reason, it felt familiar, and her chest inexplicably tightened, her heart beginning to beat erratically. She took a deep breath, and to distract herself, she spoke: “Less than a month on the job, a few scattered hours of leave before, and now a whole day. You’re busier than I am.” I was both ashamed and agitated, lowering my gaze and saying nothing. Inside the hospital, I handed Sunny over to the doctor for her check-up. Glancing back, Leslie Reed was still standing behind me, with no intention of leaving. I walked up to her, forcing a laugh. “Does Ms. Reed have any other arrangements? My personal matters are handled; I can return to the company to work.” She didn’t answer me, only asked, “What’s wrong with the child?” I didn’t understand what she meant, but I answered truthfully, “She has a tumor and needs surgery.” “In that case, I suggest you look for a different job.” I paused, looking up at her. Her expression was as indifferent as ever. “Being my personal assistant is very demanding. I don’t need someone who’s constantly distracted and just trying to coast by.” She abruptly changed the subject, speaking from a position of authority. Her words were direct, almost harsh. A ringing filled my ears. My eyes reddened at the edges, and I let out a cold laugh. “I’ve only been employed for a week, Ms. Reed. How do you conclude I’m just coasting by?” “My leave was due to legitimate reasons, and it was taken while ensuring my work was completed. I don’t believe I’ve been negligent in any way.” Leslie Reed listened to every word, then fell uncharacteristically silent. She stared intently into my eyes, noticing a different emotion in me for the first time. From the moment she first saw me, she found me strangely quiet, or rather, evasive. Like a rat scurrying from the light. Now, as she met my gaze, seeing my constantly shifting, dodging eyes, something seemed familiar. So she abruptly asked, “Have we met somewhere before?” 3. My blood froze for a moment, and my clenched palms felt clammy with tension. “Is Ms. Reed trying to change the subject? Do you find my previous statement too accurate to refute?” I lifted my head, trying to cut off Leslie Reed’s absurd notion with a sharp retort. She paused noticeably for two seconds. Those two seconds stretched, pulling at my heart. “You’re not wrong, I am.” She scoffed softly, her tone echoing a hint of self-mockery. With that, she turned and left. The next day, everything at the company proceeded as usual. Leslie Reed appeared, but didn’t spare me a single glance, as if nothing had happened. Towards the end of the workday, Mr. Evans emerged from the office, looking rather displeased. He mumbled softly, “What’s wrong with Ms. Reed this time? She suddenly asked me to look up a college classmate.” The words “college classmate” pierced my ears. My heart, however, churned like a surging tide. I spoke with difficulty, “Mr. Evans, who is the person Ms. Reed is looking for? Perhaps I know them too.” “Oh right, you both went to Sterling University. It’s a man named Jasper Hayes.” He even kindly flipped over the printed photo for me to see. The man in the photo was tall and slender, with a somber expression. A thin layer of white powder covered his face, but the greenish-black birthmark clung to his cheek like a demonic claw, almost leaping out. Leslie Reed was looking for me! This news was like a thorn, lodged in my heart, making me increasingly uneasy. So much so that when Leslie Reed called me into her office as usual at noon, I was still somewhat dazed. As I made her coffee, I could feel her cold gaze laced with intense scrutiny. “Arthur Stone, you also went to Sterling University? Which department?” “I find you somewhat familiar.” My entire body tensed, I gripped the coffee cup tightly, my breathing laced with a tremor. “Communications. I participated in a few volunteer activities during university, perhaps I crossed paths with you then, Ms. Reed.” “Oh, is that so?” She took the coffee cup, her gaze falling on the rippling liquid inside, and smiled enigmatically. Then she abruptly asked, “Do you know Jasper Hayes from the Business and Economics department?” “I think I heard the name, but I don’t really remember.” I forced a smile as I replied, glad that Leslie Reed didn’t seem to notice the perfunctoriness in my words, only letting out a soft hum. I quickly finished organizing the documents on my desk and exited the office. But I didn’t notice the woman behind me, her gaze shifting from my retreating back to her desk. She picked up the two photos lying there, trying to overlap them. After work that day, my long-unused email mysteriously received another message. It was from my former academic advisor, saying my thesis needed to be sampled for review and asking for a contact number. The doctor beside me was giving me instructions for Sunny’s pre-operative care. So much so that I didn’t question the authenticity, I hastily replied with a string of numbers, then turned off my phone to listen attentively. Leaving the clinic, I walked down the corridor towards Sunny’s room. But I froze at the sight before me. In the distance, Sunny was holding Leslie Reed’s hand, waving at me from afar. My hand gripped the doorknob tightly, my whole body taut like a string. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and quickened my pace. Sunny was looking up, talking, her voice gradually becoming clear: “I’m not afraid of pain. I’ll be like Mama. Mama fought a big monster on her face and won, so Sunny will definitely defeat the demon in her body too.” The child’s words were jumbled. Leslie Reed seemed not to understand, paused, and asked something. I broke out in a cold sweat, quickly interjecting to stop Sunny from saying more: “Sunny!” A passing nurse greeted me, complimenting, “Mr. Stone, Sunny really looks like her mother, practically carved from the same mold.” “She’s not. Her mother passed away a long time ago.” No one knew my panic at that moment. My violently pounding heart almost burst my eardrums, and my voice was parched. The young nurse awkwardly walked past. Leslie Reed nodded at me, her gaze indifferent, seemingly not taking the nurse’s words to heart. I breathed a sigh of relief. I took Sunny’s hand and thanked Leslie Reed. Sunny’s surgery was less than two days away. I was struggling with how to ask Leslie Reed for leave. Mr. Evans walked out of the office, his face full of worry. Our eyes met, and he looked like he wanted to say something but held back. He sighed, then finally spoke: “Arthur, tell me the truth, which university did you actually graduate from? This can’t be faked.” My hand trembled, and cold sweat immediately beaded on my forehead. I could only feign helplessness, forcing a smile. “What do you mean, Mr. Evans? Didn’t I graduate from Sterling University?” “Ms. Reed asked me to investigate you. There’s no Arthur Stone in the Communications department at Sterling University.” Something exploded in my head. In that moment, my mind went blank, unable to think. “You’d better think about how you’re going to explain this to Ms. Reed later.” He advised. I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. After a full minute, my clogged brain finally started to think. I quickly drafted a resignation letter, cleared my desk, and marched straight into Leslie Reed’s office. “I apologize, Ms. Reed. I admit I didn’t graduate from Sterling University. I falsified my qualifications and lied to you. “Sunny needs surgery in two days. I can’t handle this job, nor do I have the face to continue. “Thank you for your care this past month. I’ve left my resignation letter here.” I couldn’t give Leslie Reed a chance to investigate further. Otherwise, she would discover that Arthur Stone, five years ago, was actually Jasper Hayes. For this, I gritted my teeth, lowering my head as I stepped forward, ready to throw the resignation letter onto Leslie Reed’s desk and run. But a slender hand gripped my wrist, with surprising strength. I looked up, falling into Leslie Reed’s dark eyes, which held an infinite storm. She spoke, syllable by syllable, in an incredibly certain and assured tone. Her words, uttered through clenched teeth, dragged me back to my most unbearable past: “Jasper, how long are you going to keep playing games with me?”

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