On the night before my wedding, my friends threw me a bachelor party. Halfway through, my friend Mason Reed gave me a suggestive look and said: “We’ve got something even hotter planned, and we booked three strippers for you so you can have one last wild night before marriage.” I shook my head and refused. “You guys have fun. I can’t do anything that would hurt my fiancée.” But Mason said to me: “You’re way too old-fashioned! Yesterday, my friend hooked up with a woman who was about to get married, and she was crazy in bed.” As he spoke, Mason took out his phone and showed me his chat messages with that woman. I froze. That woman’s Ins profile picture was exactly the same as my fiancée’s. I forced myself to control my emotions and acted like nothing had happened. The next day, the wedding went on as planned. Smiling, I walked onto the stage with my fiancée on my arm, then pressed the remote. On the big screen, the chat records, audio recordings, and videos were all there. The whole room exploded.

I looked at the screen of Mason’s phone, and in a gaming group chat, a man was bragging about his one-night stand. “A woman about to get married is seriously wild.” “I love this kind, mature and forward.” I looked at the woman’s profile picture and wondered why it looked so familiar… I snatched the phone out of my friend’s hand. I zoomed in on the screenshot. It showed a chat between a man and a woman: “You’re getting married tomorrow, and I really can’t bear to let you go.” “Then come see me tonight.” “What am I coming to see you for? Aren’t you afraid your husband will find out?” “What kind of husband is he to me? The wedding hasn’t happened yet, so I’m still yours. Whenever I think about getting married, I get anxious, so come keep me company.” Attached after that were a few blurry chest photos with no face shown. Coincidentally, the woman’s profile picture was half of a heart. It was exactly the same as my fiancée Chloe Bennett’s profile picture. I remembered that she had been the one who suggested we use the same Ins profile picture. Mason, sitting beside me, did not notice that something was wrong with me. “Look, this woman’s getting married tomorrow, the same day as you. But she’s still hooking up with her ex the night before the wedding. What a slut, haha…” I pretended to stay calm and said nothing. Then I walked to the restroom and called Chloe. The phone rang several times, but no one answered. My heart tightened. The woman Mason had just shown me, the one actively cheating and flirting with her ex, could not really be Chloe, could it? Finally, the call went through. I listened to the voice on the other end of the phone and let out a long breath, thinking maybe it really was just a coincidence. Plenty of people used the same social media profile picture, and plenty of people got married on the same day. How could I suspect someone who was about to become my legal wife? Besides, Chloe’s family were all very conservative Christians. Her whole family was against sex before marriage. Even on the night of our engagement, when I wanted to get intimate, she refused me and insisted on giving herself to me completely on our wedding night. How could I suspect her? I was such a jerk. “It’s nothing, nothing, I just… missed you. Is your room all set up?” I asked her with a guilty conscience. I did not dare tell her the gossip I had just heard. Otherwise, as smart as she was, she would definitely guess why I had called. “It’s almost… mm… all cleaned up.” “What’s wrong, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I asked nervously. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I accidentally bumped into the cabinet. If there’s nothing else, hang up, okay? Don’t you have to get up early tomorrow to pick me up? Don’t be late.” “Don’t worry, I definitely won’t be late. You should also get some… rest.” I had just finished speaking. On Chloe’s end, she hung up on me in a hurry. I had originally wanted to be sweet with her for a couple more sentences. Forget it, she had been busy for days, so she must have been tired too. After I came out of the restroom, my buddy saw I seemed fine and started yelling at me again: “Come look, come look, this is so damn exciting. That guy posted something even crazier in the group…”

Mason shoved his phone in front of my eyes. There was a new chat on it. “This is so exciting and feels so damn good. My ex-girlfriend and I were right in the middle of it when her husband suddenly called, and it almost scared the hell out of me.” “But my ex-girlfriend is seriously badass. She didn’t let him notice anything was wrong at all.” “My ex-girlfriend was wearing a wedding dress and talking to her own husband on the phone while she was under me, and damn, that felt incredible, haha.” Looking at that string of laughing emojis, I felt a wave of rage I could not hold back shoot straight to my head. Chloe’s voice had sounded off for a split second just now. I had not thought much of it at first. But at this moment, this man with the username “Kyle Harding” was bragging in the group and describing the scene in real time, so I had no choice but to suspect it. The female lead was Chloe, the woman who was about to marry me. “Damn, bro, that’s insane.” “I’m so jealous, man. Can you start a livestream?” “So jealous, start a livestream and let us see. Good things are meant to be shared.” In just a minute or two, the people in the group had already started egging him on. No, I could not just sit there and wait. Blind guessing was useless. I had to confirm whether the woman cheating on the night before her wedding was Chloe or not. Otherwise, tomorrow’s wedding could not happen.] “Idiot, you’re just talking out of your ass, aren’t you?” After I sent that sentence, the entire screen full of envy paused instantly. I waited a little while. “Kyle Harding” finally saw it. “Bro, are you just bitter because you can’t have it?” “I can understand if you’re jealous and resentful, but if you’re cursing me out, are you insane? It’s not like I fucked your wife!” That one sentence hit me right where it hurt. The person he might have fucked really could be my wife. But it also might not be. The reason I cursed at him was to confirm it. On my end, I was gritting my teeth so hard that I bit red marks into my lip. Mason finally realized something was wrong. He looked at the line in the group that said, “Did I fuck your wife?” Then he turned and looked at me. “Shit, it’s not really your fiancée, is it…” He did not dare keep going. Then he quickly added: “No, no way, Ethan. We must be overthinking it.” “Whether or not it’s Chloe, we can just confirm it.” My eyes were bloodshot, and I looked at him with something almost savage in my face. Then I quickly lowered my head and started typing on the phone. “Idiot, just because you say you’re fucking someone else’s wife, are we supposed to believe you?” “I think you’re just bluffing, acting all by yourself, chasing attention, and enjoying praise from people who don’t know the truth. Is that fun?” I needed to provoke him and make him reveal key proof. And then. Snap, he really threw a photo straight into the group. “Idiot, see if I’m lying or not.” I ignored his insults and quickly tapped the photo with my finger, enlarging it…

The photo showed only a back. Not even the head was in the shot. She was indeed wearing a wedding dress. And the hem of the wedding dress had already been lifted up onto her back. It was easy to imagine what had just happened. Or what was currently happening. I zoomed in and searched bit by bit, but I found no useful information. So I kept provoking him: “Idiot, I can tell you’re not bragging.” “But you don’t even dare photograph the back of her head, so how am I supposed to know whether the broad back under you belongs to some huge dude from the front, haha.” After I said that, the people in the group started blindly stirring things up too. “Exactly, bro, what kind of photo is this? We can’t even tell if it’s a man or a woman. You’re not really bragging, are you?” “Could it be an AI picture, haha?” “Record a video, record a video. We want to see a live video…” The situation completely got out of control. “Shut the fuck up, all of you. Did you all eat shit with those mouths? Believe it or don’t, I don’t care.” … A few seconds later, he still could not help but tag me in the group. “No, bro, something’s off about you!” “I feel like you’ve been provoking me this whole time. Fuck, did I really fuck your wife?” “Or do you know my girlfriend…” I did not reply right away and slowed myself down. I knew he was starting to panic too. After all, this was a local group. Even if most people did not know each other, there was always a chance that someone nearby might recognize someone. Who could stay calm and not be afraid when it felt like you had been caught by the actual partner while seducing someone in a relationship? “Bro, why aren’t you talking? Do you really know my ex-girlfriend?” Seeing that I had achieved my goal, I stopped scaring him. “You’re overthinking it. I’m just from out of town and here to clear my head.” “I joined a random group because I wanted locals nearby to recommend good food and fun places, but who knew I’d run into you bragging?” While I kept him steady in the group, I privately added him as a friend. What if he left the group and ran off in a bit? The notification sounded quickly. [The other party rejected your friend request.] Rejected? I added him again and attached a note: [Accept it, or I’ll call the police and report you for spreading a woman’s private photos, and you won’t get away.] This time, that man accepted my friend request very quickly. “Bro, what exactly do you want?” he asked me directly in the private chat. “Don’t overthink it. I’m just curious. If I don’t see what your girlfriend looks like, I really won’t be able to sleep tonight.” “You don’t need to be scared either. I’m really not local, so there’s no way I know you or the bride under you. If you don’t believe me, you can check my Ins posts and see if you recognize me.” I waited for a while, but the other side never replied. I guessed they had really gone to look through my posts. But I was not afraid, because the account and phone both belonged to Mason. They would not find anything useful. Besides, there was another point: they definitely would not dare make a big deal out of this. So they could not run anymore. “I can’t let you see my ex-girlfriend’s face. Ask for something else.” The fish had taken the bait. “Bro, that’s kind of stingy. You’re enjoying something that good yourself, and you won’t even let someone else take a look?” “Ask for something else, or if you want a woman, I’ll pay to get you the best escort in town. How about that?” “How can a paid escort be as exciting as your bride? Fine, if you won’t show her face, take a full-body shot so I can at least see her figure and satisfy my craving.” Even if I could not see her face, as long as it was Chloe, I would be able to confirm it through other features. Snap! A full-body photo was sent over, showing her from the back. I immediately zoomed in on the back of her head, because there was a mark there that could confirm whether she was Chloe…

In the end. I really found it. I zoomed in on the photo and looked again and again. I could not help kicking the stool beside my foot away. The heart-shaped red mole behind her ear was so glaring. If having the same profile picture could be a coincidence. If the strange sound she made during the phone call could be argued away. Then this photo was ironclad proof. Chloe Bennett, the woman who was going to have a wedding with me in just a few hours. Had cheated! I took out my phone. I wanted to FaceTime her. I wanted to ask her how she could be so shameless. But just as I was about to dial, Mason suddenly grabbed my hand. “Ethan, what are you doing?” “What am I doing? What do you think I’m doing? I want to kill someone. I want to go kill the bastard who fucked my fiancée right now, and while I’m at it, kill that bitch Chloe too.” After saying those two vicious lines. It was like all the energy in my body had been drained dry. I knocked something behind me over. I collapsed to the floor. I covered my face, and tears kept pouring down. “My fiancée cheated. My fiancée cheated…” I had truly never imagined something like this would happen to me. Just dozens of minutes ago, I had still been imagining tomorrow’s romantic scene. Now everything was destroyed. Everything was gone. Mason patted my shoulder. He said nothing, but he still helped me come back to my senses. The wedding would be held in just a few hours, and I had to make a decision. I owed my parents, relatives, and friends some kind of explanation. But as for that bitch Chloe. I would never take her back. Since she was this shameless, I would give her exactly what she deserved. “Let me use your phone again.” I reached my hand out to Mason. Seeing that I had calmed down, he did not hesitate. He handed it over directly. I opened the chat box with “Kyle Harding” and started typing: “Bro, I can tell from her back that your girlfriend is top-tier. Talk it over with her. How much would it cost to let me have a turn?” I wanted to catch them in the act. I wanted to nail Chloe down completely. “Are you sick? You wanted to see the photo, and I showed it to you. Now you want a turn too? Do you really think I’m some idiot you can mess with?” “Ten thousand dollars to let me have a turn, or I’ll post your business online. You two choose.” “I’m just here to travel and clear my head. If you agree and I have fun tonight, I’ll get in a car and leave afterward. In the future, none of us will see each other again, and none of us will know each other, so don’t worry.” The other side stopped replying again. I did not know whether Chloe disagreed. Or whether they were scared. But they no longer had a choice. “I think the bride beside you probably doesn’t want her business exposed either. Even if it’s only a back view, people who know her can still recognize her, don’t you think?” I was threatening them. I was betting that they did not want to make this bigger. Then I directly transferred ten thousand dollars to him. “Bear Inn, Room 520. I hope you keep your promise and get lost right after you’re done.”

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Three years after our divorce, my ex-husband, Julian, showed up at my door holding a massive bouquet of red roses. He had that same smug, confident smile I used to know so well. “Chloe, I kept my word. I’m back, right on time, to take you back.” Three years ago, he played a game of Truth or Dare with his friends and lost to his childhood friend, Serena. Serena had proposed a dare: “I want to see if you and Chloe are actually true love.” “So, get a divorce and don’t see each other for three years.” “If she still wants to remarry you after three years, I’ll admit it’s true love.” Julian had never set any boundaries with Serena. We fought about her constantly because of things like this. At the time, I thought there was no way he would agree to something so ridiculous. But to my horror, he agreed without a second thought. “Sure! A bet’s a bet!” His friends tried to talk him out of it: “Dude, think about this. Divorce is a major deal!” But he just looked at me with absolute certainty. “I trust our relationship. Chloe only loves me in this lifetime. She will definitely wait to remarry me!” I didn’t say a word. He didn’t realize that was the very last chance I was ever giving him. My thoughts snapped back to the present as he tried to shove the roses into my arms. I didn’t take them. I stepped back, my voice completely flat. “Sorry, my husband doesn’t let me accept flowers from other men.”

A confident, knowing smirk played on Julian’s lips. “Still mad?” “Alright, alright. I’m here now, aren’t I?” “Babe, stop being childish.” His tone was dripping with patronizing affection. He honestly thought I was just playing hard to get to punish him. Just like he used to, he stepped forward and reached out to pull me into his arms. I took another step back, my expression freezing over. “Control yourself, Mr. Gray.” His hands froze in mid-air. The gentle, mock-tender look in his eyes never wavered from my face. “Did I really make you that mad this time?” “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll buy it for you. Anything to make it up to you.” He was still so utterly convinced that a few sweet words and a credit card could fix the wreckage he left behind. As he spoke, he took another step toward me. For every step he took forward, I took one back. The look in his eyes shifted, darkening with a sudden urge to conquer, to force me to submit. “Julian, three years is a long time. It’s enough to change everything.” He nodded, seemingly agreeing. “True.” I backed up until my shoulders hit the cold brick wall. There was nowhere left to run. He slammed both hands on the wall on either side of my head, trapping me in his space. It was the same old wall-pinning trick he used when we were dating. Back then, he loved trapping me in corners under the moonlight just to kiss me breathless. “So, did you give me a son or a daughter?” He murmured, reaching out to gently stroke my cheek. At the mention of the child, a sharp, stabbing pain flared in my chest. Three years ago, he knew damn well I was pregnant. Yet, after losing a stupid game, he still divorced me just to please his precious Serena. And for three years, he completely vanished. Not a single text, not a single phone call. Yet here he was, standing before me with the sheer audacity to assume I had quietly given birth to his child and waited around like a loyal dog for his return! A mocking laugh escaped my lips. Before I could tell him that I had aborted that pregnancy, Julian’s phone started buzzing. He pulled it out. The caller ID flashed with the name: *My Princess*. That was his contact name for Serena. I had seen it countless times during our marriage. I remembered how he used to pat her head and tell everyone that she had been his little princess since they were kids. He never cared about how I, his actual wife, felt. And just like before, he answered her call instantly. “Julian, you need to come quick… my cramps are so bad, my stomach hurts so much…” Serena’s whiny, tearful voice echoed through the speaker. Panic instantly flooded Julian’s eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m coming right now.” He hung up. He reached out and hastily patted the top of my head, like he was soothing a harmless pet. “I have to go check on Serena first. I’ll come back to find you later tonight.” Before the words had even fully left his mouth, he was already running down the street.

Serena was still up to her old tricks, using Instagram to passive-aggressively flaunt her hold over Julian. Her latest post showed her lying in Julian’s arms, looking pale and sweaty. Julian’s hand was resting gently on her stomach, rubbing it. Her caption read: *Since we were kids, he’s always been the one who loves me most. No matter how busy he is, or who he’s with, the second I’m not feeling well, he drops everything to fly to my side. He really is the best man in the world!!!* I casually tapped the heart to leave a like. In fact, over the past three years, Serena had posted her “flexes” every single day. For three years, she posted 1,095 brag-posts on Instagram, and I liked every single one of them. She boasted about everything. For instance, she didn’t have a job, but Julian gave her his black card to spend whatever she wanted. She lived in the house that was supposed to be our marital home. She used my old things whenever she wanted, or threw them in the trash if she felt like it. For the past three years, they lived exactly like a married couple. I knew she was doing it entirely to torment me. But every like I left was nothing but my pure contempt and indifference. Serena, however, convinced herself that I was just going crazy with jealousy, desperately trying to make my presence known. The next time I saw Julian, he walked into my coffee shop with Serena clinging to his arm. They were wearing matching beige casual outfits. Julian, who had always insisted on wearing stiff, formal suits when he was with me, was wearing a trendy, relaxed blazer today. Back when we were married, I had begged him to wear matching outfits with me. He always brushed me off, saying he hated changing his style. Serena looked around my coffee shop, her eyes scanning the place with mock pity. She gasped dramatically. Julian frowned, looking at me with disapproval. “I gave you so much money in the divorce. Why are you doing such grueling manual labor?” When we divorced, I demanded half of his assets. He had signed them over without hesitation, probably thinking it was just a temporary deposit. I stopped wiping the espresso machine and looked up at him, my face entirely blank. “Because I want to. And it has absolutely nothing to do with you.” Julian’s face didn’t change. He still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. Serena offered me a fake, sugary sweet smile. “Chloe, it’s been three years. How have you been?” “Great.” Serena seemed taken aback by how calm I was. Just then, Julian’s phone rang. He turned around and walked outside to take the call. The second he was out of earshot, Serena’s sweet mask fell off. Her smile turned into a smug, venomous sneer. “Cut the act, Chloe. But don’t get your hopes up too high.” She looked down her nose at me, a cold laugh escaping her lips. “Even if you remarry Julian this time, so what?” “His mother still despises you. Her perfect daughter-in-law has always been me.” “Julian is only marrying you out of a sense of obligation.” “In fact, he only came to find you today because I gave him permission.” “And you’ll have to sign a prenup.” “By the way, I drafted it myself.” She reached into her designer bag, pulled out a document, and threw it onto the counter. I looked down at it with sheer amusement. The terms were hilarious. I would have zero claim to any of the Gray family’s assets. After marriage, I was not allowed to call his mother “Mom”—I had to call her “Mrs. Gray.” I was forbidden from identifying myself as Julian’s wife in public; to the world, I had to remain his “ex-wife.” This absurd, insulting document actually made me laugh out loud. I slid the papers back over to her. “If Victoria loves you so much, why are you still just his side-chick?” “It’s been three years, Serena, and Julian still sleeps with you without giving you a ring. How pathetic.” Serena’s face flushed with rage. She raised her hand, ready to slap me. But then, the sound of Julian’s approaching footsteps echoed from the doorway. Her expression changed faster than a theater mask. Tears immediately welled in her eyes, and she adopted a look of tragic, selfless understanding. “Chloe, I really do want you and Julian to be happy. I just want him to have a good life.” “As his childhood friend, his happiness is all I care about. This prenup is just a formality, please don’t be mad at him…” She was still the same cheap actress she was three years ago. And Julian, seeing her tears, lost all ability to think rationally, as usual.

“Serena, what’s wrong?” Julian immediately pulled Serena into his arms, his eyes filled with intense concern. Serena shook her head, putting on a brave, suffering face. “It’s nothing… it’s my fault. Don’t blame Chloe.” The more she played the victim, the more Julian was convinced I had bullied her. “Chloe!” He barked at me, his face turning incredibly cold. “Apologize to her right now!” He spoke to me like a master commanding a servant. A cold smile touched my lips. He frowned, looking at me with frustration. “Serena grew up with me. She’s like a sister to me!” “She is my family. Can you stop being so incredibly hostile to her every single time?” “Even if it’s just for my sake, can you try to be nice to her?” I remained silent. I had seen this exact show countless times three years ago. I was completely sick of it. Just as I was about to kick them out of my shop, my phone on the counter began to ring with a FaceTime call. The caller ID read: *My Baby Boy*. Julian’s eyes lit up the second he saw the screen. Before I could stop him, his hand shot out and swiped the green button to accept the call. I quickly snatched the phone back. My two-year-old son’s adorable, chubby face appeared on the screen. “Mommy, I miss you!” Hearing that sweet little “Mommy,” Julian practically vibrated with excitement. He was absolutely certain that I had given birth to his son. I quickly mumbled a few words to my son and hung up just as Julian lunged to grab the phone to talk to him. “Let me see my son!” He was grinning from ear to ear, his anger from a moment ago vanishing as if it had never existed. Beside him, Serena’s face turned incredibly dark. “He is not your son,” I said, my voice ice-cold. “Don’t ever come near me again, you pathetic psychopaths.” He didn’t even get mad, still trying to play the understanding partner. “Alright, stop fighting. I know you’re mad.” “But I really miss you and our boy.” At that moment, I realized that a self-absorbed narc like him would never believe I had moved on until he saw my husband with his own eyes. Suddenly, Julian spoke up again. “My mom’s birthday is in a few days.” “You’re a great cook. Prepare a few of her favorite dishes.” “Use this opportunity to fix your relationship with her.” “Now that you’ve given her a grandson, she won’t be hard on you anymore.” Ah. So he did know. He knew that during our three years of marriage, his mother had treated me like dirt. Victoria had always looked down on my middle-class background. Even though I was Julian’s legal wife, Victoria never allowed me to attend any family dinners. If she was present at an event, I wasn’t even allowed to sit at the same table as her. And during all of his mother’s psychological abuse, Julian had always remained completely silent. A mocking sneer played on my lips. “Julian, tell me. Why didn’t I even have the right to have dinner with your mother back then?” He hesitated for a second before mumbling, “Well… that’s just because you didn’t know how to please her.” Serena chimed in helpfully, “Chloe, begging your elders isn’t embarrassing. Mrs. Gray actually loves it when people crawl back and beg on their knees.” She was openly mocking me. I let out a dry laugh, locking my eyes onto Julian’s. “Julian, it’s been three years. The world has moved on.” “I am married. And the child is not yours.” Then, I turned to Serena. “Maybe you should try begging on your knees more often. Who knows? Maybe Victoria will finally let you through the front door.”

Serena burst into tears. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she sobbed, covering her face as she ran out of the shop. Julian’s face twisted in fury. He glared at me. “How long are you going to keep up this stubborn act!” With that, he ran out to chase after Serena. My phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from my husband: *Hey beautiful, the project is officially wrapped up. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.* A wave of relief washed over me. I figured that once Julian saw Alexander in the flesh, he would finally stop his delusional fantasies. The next day, right after I arrived at the coffee shop, I got a frantic call from my son’s daycare teacher. She said that a man claiming to be my son’s father and a woman claiming to be his godmother had just taken Leo away. My heart instantly jumped into my throat. I drove like a maniac straight to the Gray estate. When I burst through the doors, my blood ran cold. Serena had put my son inside a massive dog enclosure, forcing him to sit on the floor with a bunch of shedding dogs and cats. Leo had been severely allergic to animal dander since birth. He couldn’t touch dogs or cats under any circumstances. My poor baby was sobbing hysterically, his face flushed bright red. Red, angry hives were already breaking out all over his neck. Serena completely ignored my son’s panic. Instead, she was trying to force a black cat into his trembling arms. “Don’t be scared, Leo. This cat is three years old, so technically she’s your big sister.” “She’s my favorite baby. Hold her! Don’t be so rude, crying so loud is going to scare her.” My son screamed, waving his tiny hands to push the animal away. The black cat, startled, lashed out with its sharp claws, leaving several bloody scratches across my son’s face. Leo let out a piercing shriek of pain. Serena tutted. “Look what you did. You scared my baby cat.” Her eyes were filled with a sick, threatening gleam as she stared down at my sobbing toddler. “Get your hands off my son!” I screamed, charging forward in a blind rage. Just as my fingers were about to reach Leo, Julian suddenly materialized from the side, grabbing me from behind and dragging me back. “Serena was just trying to be nice and let Leo play with some pets.” My eyes were bloodshot. I spun around and slapped Julian across the face with all the strength I had. “My son is highly allergic to animal dander!” “He can’t be around animals!” I tried to push past him to grab Leo, but Julian grabbed my wrists in a vice grip. Serena looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Today is my cat’s birthday. She loves playing with kids.” “I just thought since Leo is coming back to the Gray family, they should get to know each other.” As she spoke, the black cat on Leo’s lap was still scratching frantically. My son’s arms, neck, and face were covered in angry red welts and bloody scratches. Serena added helpfully, “Don’t worry, my pets are fully vaccinated. They’re very clean. I sleep with them every night.” Looking at my son, who was crying so hard he could barely breathe, panic consumed me. I thrashed wildly against Julian’s grip. Julian held me tight, trying to soothe me. “He’s a boy, Chloe. Don’t raise him to be so soft.” “He’s going to inherit the Gray Group one day. We need to build his courage. He can’t be afraid of a stupid cat.” Suddenly, Leo’s eyes rolled back, and his head slumped forward. I let out a guttural scream. “He’s going into anaphylactic shock!” Only then did Julian realize how grave the situation was. I broke free, scooped my limp son into my arms, and ran toward my car. Julian and Serena scrambled to follow me to the hospital. When we arrived, Leo was immediately rushed into the emergency room. A doctor walked out holding a consent form. “Are you the father or mother? I need a signature immediately.” Julian stepped forward eagerly. “I’m the father! I’ll sign!” But just as his hand reached for the pen, a deep, commanding voice boomed down the hallway. “Since when did my son become yours?”

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For three years, I thought my husband was just too busy with work. Until late one night, I stumbled upon a file on his tablet titled The Mental Deterioration Plan. High-frequency noise in the dead of night, slow-acting sedatives mixed into my aromatherapy candles. Step by step, he was driving me “insane.” He stole my father’s life’s work, forced me to my knees in the ruins of my childhood home, all to clear the name of the real killer. But he had no idea. Every single pill he forced me to swallow was hidden under my tongue. Every manic episode was just an act. By the time he thought I had drowned myself in the ocean, I was standing on a stage in Paris, wearing a hearing aid, accepting the highest honor in international design. Everything they took from me, I will take back ten times over. Summer’s POV I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. Passing the study, I noticed Ethan’s tablet screen glowing on the desk. He hadn’t locked it. The screen was open to a hidden folder he had just viewed. I went to turn it off for him, but the moment my fingers hovered over the screen, my heart stopped. “Summer’s Mental Deterioration Plan.” Below it were the step-by-step instructions: “2:00 AM – 4:00 AM: Activate the high-frequency acoustic device in the attic to induce auditory hallucinations.” “Monday, Wednesday, Friday: Infuse bedroom aromatherapy with slow-acting neurotoxins to disrupt memory retention.” At the very bottom, the digital signature read: Ethan. Standing in the chill of the air conditioning, my fingertips went completely numb. I tapped deeper into the folder and found saved chat logs between Ethan and Chloe. Chloe: “The cathedral is almost finished, but Summer still holds the intellectual property rights. If she ever snaps out of it and sues me for plagiarism…” Ethan’s reply: “Don’t worry. I’ve already drafted the transfer agreement. As soon as the gala ends, I’ll have her sign it. After that, the cathedral belongs to you.” Ethan added: “Summer is heavily medicated. Her brain is mush. Getting her to sign will be child’s play.” I stared at the screen, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edge of the desk. That cathedral was my father Charles’s lifelong dream. He had drawn tens of thousands of drafts for that building. I was the one who went with him to get his signature stamp made. But three months ago, just as the cathedral was nearing completion, my father was publicly accused of plagiarism. A man who had spent his entire life building an honorable reputation leaped from the top floor of the half-finished cathedral in utter humiliation. He died on impact. Ethan was convinced my father had pushed his younger sister, Lily, into the ocean to drown years ago. So Ethan married me. He showered me with affection, only to poison me and set a trap. It was all a sick game of revenge for his sister, designed to slowly drive the entire family to our graves. But he didn’t know the truth. Lily hadn’t been pushed by my father. She had been pushed by Chloe to cover up the fact that Chloe had stolen my father’s original blueprints. Now, they didn’t just want to steal my father’s legacy and win the gold award with his designs. Tomorrow, they wanted to strip me of the property rights forever. A sudden, violent spasm hit my stomach. I leaned against the desk, bent double, and dry-heaved violently. The pain curled me into a ball on the floor, my fingers clawing at the gaps in the hardwood. I pulled so hard that one of my fingernails snapped in half, blood pooling on the floor. But I couldn’t feel the physical pain. My mind was flooded with the image of my father’s broken body on the concrete. And the image of Ethan’s fake, tender smile as he held me every night, coaxing me to take those “calming pills.” He drove my father to suicide! He locked me up like a madwoman! The man who poisoned me day after day was the husband I had loved for three years! The sound of the front door unlocking echoed from downstairs. Ethan was home. I stared at the door, my fingers trembling. Moving as fast as I could, I plugged a flash drive into the tablet and copied every single byte of data. Then, I wiped the screen, placed the tablet back in its exact position, and made sure there wasn’t a single trace of it being moved. I pulled two tiny, flesh-colored earplugs from my pocket. They were high-grade noise-canceling plugs I used to use. They could block out almost all external sound. I pushed them deep into my ear canals. The world went instantly quiet. Only the heavy, ragged sound of my own breathing remained. The study door opened. Ethan walked in, dressed in a sharp black suit. His expression was soft. But when he saw me collapsed on the floor, a cold flicker passed through his eyes. “Summer? Why are you sitting on the floor in the dark?” Ethan rushed over, kneeling down to grab my freezing hands. The moment his skin touched mine, goosebumps erupted all over my body. I wanted to rip his lying face to shreds. I wanted to scream at him and demand why he murdered my father. But I forced the hatred down. I knew that if I fought back now, I would never get the blueprints back. I wouldn’t even make it out of this house alive. I had to play the part of a completely broken, insane woman. “Ethan…” I let him pull me into his chest. My body shook violently as I let my tears spill onto his sleeve. “The noise is back. There are bugs crawling in my brain, eating me from the inside. Ethan, am I really going crazy?” I cried, burying my face in his chest, my fingers tearing at his white shirt. The blood from my broken nail left a dark red smear across his clean fabric. Ethan gently stroked my back. His touch was soft, like he was petting a favorite toy. “It’s okay, Summer. It’s just hallucinations. You’ve been under too much stress lately.” His voice was deep, dripping with fake concern. But I knew the truth. At this very moment, the high-frequency transmitter in the attic was blasting at maximum volume. Ethan was watching me lose my mind, completely cold-blooded. “Here, take your medicine. You’ll feel better after a nap.” Ethan pulled out a small white bottle, tapped out a blue capsule, and handed me a glass of warm water. I stared at the blue capsule. The slow-acting poison meant to rot my brain. Without hesitation, I washed it down with the water. But as the capsule slid past my teeth, I used the tip of my tongue to wedge it firmly into the pocket of my cheek. “Good girl.” Ethan ran his fingers through my hair, a flash of smug amusement in his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed. Tomorrow, I’m taking you to the design awards. Chloe is winning the gold, and she needs her best friend there to support her.” Supporting the woman who murdered my father. He really knew how to twist the knife. I lowered my head, letting my long hair hide the burning rage in my eyes. “Okay,” I whispered obediently.

Summer’s POV Once Ethan was sure I was calm, he left the room with a few reassuring words. I bolted to the bathroom. The second the lock clicked, I threw myself over the toilet. I shoved my fingers down my throat, my nails scraping against the raw flesh of my tonsils. I gagged violently, tears streaming down my face. Finally, the blue capsule, slick with saliva and stomach acid, splashed into the bowl. The blue coating had already begun to dissolve, releasing a bitter, chemical stench. Staring at the dissolving pill, my entire body shook. If I had swallowed it tonight, I would have been a stuttering, mindless shell of a human by tomorrow morning. Ethan wanted me crazy. I didn’t have time to grieve. I had to transfer the cathedral’s intellectual property immediately. I flushed the toilet, watching the poison swirl away. I grit my teeth and looked up at the mirror. My face was ghostly pale, my eyes bloodshot, and a smear of dried blood stained the corner of my mouth. I closed my eyes and practiced a vacant, twitchy smile. Only when my reflection looked exactly like a textbook psychiatric patient did I open the door and step back out. In the bedroom, Ethan was standing by the nightstand. He held a white ceramic jar, lighting the aromatherapy candle with a match. Seeing me enter, he blew out the match and waved me over. “Summer, I had this special lavender blend made just for you. It’ll cure your headache.” I walked over. The thick, sweet scent of lavender filled the air. But beneath the floral notes was a faint, metallic tang, like rotting fish. The slow-acting neurotoxin. The chemical designed to destroy my nervous system. “It smells wonderful, Ethan.” I leaned meekly into his chest, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath of the tainted air. Ethan stroked my back, his hand moving like he was petting a dying cat. But I could feel his body tensing. He was watching my face, waiting for the reaction. I let my head slide onto his shoulder, letting my eyes glaze over before slowly closing them. “Ethan… I’m so sleepy. I’m going to close my eyes for a bit…” I mumbled, letting my limbs go limp as I drifted onto the mattress. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’m right here.” Ethan lifted my legs onto the bed and pulled the duvet over me. He sat by the edge of the bed for a few minutes. Once he was certain I was dead to the world, he stood up, switched off the lights, and quietly slipped out of the room. The moment the door clicked shut, my eyes snapped open. They were sharp, clear, and completely alert. Ethan had no idea that I had secretly swapped the poisoned wax in that jar with pure, organic lavender wax weeks ago. I slipped out of bed and reached into the deepest corner of my closet, pulling out a hidden burner phone. I dialed a number. The line rang once before a gravelly, older voice answered. “Summer?” “Robert, it’s me,” I whispered, my voice cold as ice. “My father’s reputation is gone. I can’t let them take the last thing he left behind.” Robert was my father’s most trusted legal counsel. “Summer, are you sure about this? If you secretly transfer the patent rights and Ethan finds out, he will ruin you.” Robert’s voice was thick with worry. I gripped the phone, my knuckles aching. “I don’t have a choice.” I spat the words through my teeth. “Ethan is going to force me to sign the cathedral over to Chloe tomorrow. I have to move every single design patent into my father’s offshore private trust before he can touch them.” “Understood. I’ll handle it immediately. It’ll be done within two hours. But Summer… what are you going to do tomorrow?” I didn’t answer. I silently hung up the phone. I turned my head and looked at the closet, where the white gown Ethan had chosen for me hung. In the pale moonlight filtering through the window, the dress looked like a shroud. I closed my eyes and lay back down in the dark.

Summer’s POV The next morning, Ethan woke me up early. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, his voice tender. “Morning, Summer. Time to get dressed.” I sat up obediently. Ethan walked to the closet, opened the doors, and pulled out the white gown. A few minutes later, I stood in front of the vanity mirror in the dressing room, my back arched as I struggled to reach the zipper. A pair of warm hands covered mine from behind, smoothly taking the metal clasp from my fingers. Ethan stared at my reflection in the mirror, a faint smile on his lips. His movements were light, his fingers brushing against my spine as he slowly pulled the zipper up. The dress was a fraction too tight. As the metal teeth scraped against my skin, my body instinctively tensed, a small shiver running down my back. Ethan placed his hands on my shoulders, parting my long hair to one side. He leaned down, pressing his face against my neck. His warm breath fanned across my cold skin, his voice as gentle as always. “Summer, today is a big day. If the reporters ask you anything, just say exactly what we practiced yesterday, okay?” The tone was the same one you’d use to coax a difficult child. It made my blood run cold. I stared blankly at his reflection. “Okay.” Half an hour later, I was led into the grand hall of the International Design Awards. The red carpet was swarming with media. The flashing lights were blinding. Chloe, dressed in a stunning gold gown, was holding the trophy that belonged to my family. She smiled radiantly for the cameras. When she saw Ethan leading me inside, she picked up her skirt and walked over, grabbing my hand. She leaned in close, whispering venomously in my ear, “A brain-dead bitch belongs in an asylum. But I have to thank you. Even as a cripple, you still had to crawl out today to hand me my trophy.” I heard every single word. My eyes remained vacant, but I bit the inside of my cheek until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Ethan kept his arm wrapped around my waist, his posture protective and doting. To anyone else, he looked like the ultimate devoted husband. With this sickeningly sweet display, he guided me toward a row of microphones. The cameras focused on us instantly. Ethan leaned down, his voice a warm whisper in my ear. “Tell the press that the cathedral design was just a manic scribble you did, and that Chloe completed it entirely on her own. Apologize to her, Summer. Be a good girl.” I looked at the reporters eagerly waiting, then at Chloe’s smug, triumphant grin. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, they were wide with pure, unadulterated terror. “Ah!” I let out a blood-curdling shriek and violently slammed my hands forward, knocking the heavy microphone stand into the press row. The metal stand crashed onto the marble floor, causing the speakers to erupt in a deafening screech of feedback. “Bugs! There are bugs biting me!” I flailed my arms wildly, my palm connecting with Chloe’s face in a brutal, resounding slap! SMACK! The force of the blow was massive. Chloe stumbled back several steps and collapsed onto the floor, the gold trophy flying from her hands and shattering into two pieces. “Summer! What the hell are you doing?!” Ethan’s face twisted in horror as he reached out to grab me. I ducked under his arms, screaming as I ran toward the massive promotional banner on the stage. I clawed at the fabric, ripping Chloe’s face to shreds with my fingernails. “Red bugs! They’re crawling out of the blueprints! They’re eating my dad’s brain!” I howled, digging my nails deep into my own face and neck, leaving red welts across my skin. Blood trickled down my collarbone, staining the chest of my pristine white gown. The entire venue erupted into chaos. Screams and shutter clicks filled the air. “Don’t let them bite me! Ethan, save me!” I threw myself into Ethan’s arms, my body convulsing as I forced white foam to bubble at the corners of my mouth. Ethan held me tight, rubbing my back, his face filled with panic and concern. But from an angle no one else could see, a brief flash of relief washed over his eyes. He truly believed I had finally lost it. “I’m incredibly sorry, everyone. My wife’s condition has flared up. Please excuse us,” Ethan announced coldly. He scooped up my shaking body and marched out of the venue. The camera flashes strobed wildly behind us. I lay limp against Ethan’s shoulder, my warm blood soaking into the fabric of his white shirt. Over his shoulder, I stared coldly at the shattered gold trophy lying on the red carpet.

Summer’s POV Ethan brought me back to the estate that night. A private doctor treated the scratches on my neck and face. Once the door was locked, I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling until dawn. The next afternoon, hearing Ethan’s footsteps downstairs, I slowly dragged myself out of bed. I messed up my hair, tore at the collar of my pajamas to expose the fresh bandages on my shoulder, and made myself look as utterly broken as possible. Only then did I walk downstairs, bare feet padding softly on the stairs, mimicking a sleepwalker. Ethan was sitting on the living room sofa. As I reached the landing, I heard Chloe’s soft, whimpering voice. “Ethan, I don’t blame Summer. She’s sick. It’s not her fault she hit me.” Chloe sat on the sofa, holding an ice pack to her swollen cheek. “I’m just worried that if she stays like this, it’ll delay the progress on the West District Theater…” Ethan poured her a glass of warm water, his tone dripping with sympathy. “You’re too soft-hearted.” I took that cue to walk down the last few steps, my eyes vacant, my hair a wild mess. Seeing me, Chloe instinctively shrunk back behind Ethan. Then, she stood up with the glass of hot water and walked toward me. “Summer, you’re awake? Here, have some water.” Just as I reached out, Chloe’s wrist violently jerked. The boiling water splashed directly onto the raw, freshly scabbed wounds on my knees. “Ah!” Chloe stumbled back, looking horrified. “I’m so sorry! My foot slipped… I didn’t mean to.” As she retreated, the sharp heel of her stiletto came down hard on my right hand, pinning it to the floor. She pressed directly onto the cracked, broken fingernail. A blinding white pain shot up my arm. I clamped my jaw shut, my entire body violently trembling. Ethan rushed over. He didn’t check on me. Instead, he guided a trembling Chloe back to the sofa before turning to me. He grabbed my bleeding hand, pulling me up. He didn’t call for a doctor. Instead, he locked his fingers around my shoulders and dragged me to my feet. His touch was still gentle, but his grip was like iron, locking me in place. “Summer, what you did at the gala yesterday was wrong. You hurt Chloe. Good girls don’t do that.” Ethan smiled, using his thumb to wipe away the tears of pain spilling from my eyes. His gentle voice made my stomach turn. “When we do something wrong, we have to apologize. Apologize to Chloe.” I froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You want me to apologize to her?” “Just say you’re sorry, and we can put this behind us.” “No!” I rasped. Ethan’s face darkened. He forced his weight down on my shoulders, slowly pushing my body down toward the sofa where Chloe sat. His massive palms held me in a vice grip, forcing my knees to slam onto the cold hardwood floor. The scabs on my knees split wide open. The pain made my vision go black. Suffocating under the humiliation, I dug my nails into my bleeding palm. I forced my head down, grit my teeth, and whispered, “I’m… sorry…” Only then did Ethan let go. He used a silk handkerchief to wipe the blood from his hands, then picked up a yellow hard hat from the table and handed it to me. His voice was warm again. “Since you’ve apologized, I need you to do something for me. Go to the West District Theater and get the acoustic readings.” I stared blankly at the yellow hard hat before reaching out to take it. As long as Chloe needed it, Ethan wouldn’t hesitate to squeeze every last drop of value out of me. Because everyone knew that only my ears could detect the most precise acoustic frequencies. Twenty minutes later, at the West District Theater construction site. The empty, concrete shell of the building was freezing. The wind howled through the open window frames. The moment I stepped into the subterranean acoustic testing room, the heavy steel door behind me slammed shut. The sound of a deadbolt sliding into place echoed through the chamber. I spun around. Through the double-paned acoustic glass, I saw Chloe standing on the other side. She held the control cables in her hand, a twisted, vicious grin on her face. “Summer, that slap from yesterday? It’s time to pay it back.” In the center of the testing room stood a massive high-frequency decibel transmitter. Chloe laughed coldly as she slammed her palm onto the console, twisting the frequency dial all the way into the red zone. SCREECH. A piercing, high-frequency wail exploded inside the sealed concrete room. The sound felt like a white-hot iron needle driving straight through my ear canal and piercing my brain. I collapsed to the floor, clutching my ears as cold sweat drenched my back. The sound was everywhere, bouncing off the concrete walls, vibrating through my skull, literally tearing at my eardrums. Warm, sticky fluid began to seep through my fingers. Blood splattered onto the cold concrete. As the world around me dissolved into a terrifying, silent void, my vision darkened, and I passed out. When I finally opened my eyes, the smell of sterile bleach filled my nose. I lay motionless on the hospital bed, staring blankly. The door clicked open, then locked from the inside. A man in a sharp grey overcoat walked over to the bed. He had incredibly dark, deep eyes. It was Christian, Ethan’s ultimate rival in the business world. He bent down, looking at me. “Stop acting. I know you’re not entirely deaf, and I know you’re not crazy.” I didn’t move. I didn’t even blink. Christian let out a low chuckle. “Don’t be scared. Your dear husband ruined your father for a mistress. You want survival, and I want power. We share the same enemy.” He leaned in close to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I can fix your ears. I can get you out of the country safely, and I can even stage a fake death for you.” “The price? Give me the evidence that Ethan stole your father’s designs.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. I had already lost everything. I was on the verge of losing my hearing entirely. There was nothing left to fear. “Deal,” I rasped, my throat raw.

Summer’s POV After Christian left, I lay on the hospital bed. I thought I would just wait for his plan to unfold and slip away quietly. But the next morning, the burner phone on my bedside table buzzed. An unknown number had sent me a video. I tapped it open. In the video, a massive excavator was smashing into a red-brick estate. The walls crumbled into dust. That was my father’s life’s work, his personal archive and memorial. In the bottom right corner of the frame, a woman’s hand, wearing a diamond bracelet, was wrapped around Ethan’s arm. It was Chloe. Then, a text message popped up: How tragic. The home you cherished so much is gone. My brain short-circuited. I didn’t care about the IV drip in my hand. I yanked it out violently, tearing the skin. Blood splattered onto my hospital gown. I didn’t even put on shoes. I ran out of the hospital barefoot. By the time I stumbled onto the gravel driveway of the estate, the archive was mostly rubble. Only a single red-brick archway remained, standing lonely amidst the ruins. I tried to charge past the gates like a madwoman, but two security guards tackled me, pinning me into the sharp gravel. “Let me go!” The jagged stones sliced into my knees, blood quickly soaking through my gown. Ethan stood a few feet away, dressed in a flawless black suit, holding a black umbrella. Chloe clung to his arm, giggling behind her hand. Pinned under the guards, I forced my head up, glaring at him with wild, bloodshot eyes. “Ethan! Tell them to stop! That is my father’s only legacy! He didn’t plagiarize anything! He was framed!” Ethan walked over slowly, stopping just out of reach. His leather shoes were splattered with mud. He frowned slightly, then knelt down, gently peeling my bleeding fingers off his trousers. “Summer, the ground is dirty. Get up, okay?” He brushed the dust off my shoulders, his voice soft, but his eyes were completely dead. I fell to my knees in the rubble, slamming my forehead against the sharp stones. “I’m begging you! Ethan, please!” I threw away every ounce of my dignity, pounding my head against the ground. “Make them stop! His brushes are in there, his photos… please…” My forehead split open, blood and dirt smearing across my face. Ethan stood over me, holding his umbrella, looking at my bloody face with a flash of disgust. “Summer, stop this. You look like a lunatic.” His voice was still gentle, but it was devoid of any human warmth. “Your father is dead. What’s the point of keeping this trash?” Chloe sneered from the side. “Exactly, Summer. Even if you keep it, you can’t protect it.” My nails dug into the dirt until they bled. Seeing the excavator crane rise again, I broke down completely. I crawled to Ethan’s feet, grabbing his ankles, sobbing hysterically. “I’ll sign the papers! I’ll give up everything! It all belongs to Chloe! Just… don’t let them demolish the rest… please…” Ethan looked down at me, a look of smug satisfaction finally washing over his face. He bent down, using his handkerchief to wipe the blood from my forehead. “See? If you had been this good from the start, we wouldn’t be here. Sign this, and I’ll leave the archway standing.” He shoved a waiver of inheritance and a pen into my bloodied hand. My hand shook uncontrollably. The blood dripping from my broken nail dragged a thick, red streak across the signature line. I thought that by dragging myself through the dirt, I could save the last piece of my father. I handed the paper back, trembling. Ethan took the document, verified the signature, and tossed it to his secretary. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mock affection. But a second later, he stood up, turned his back on the archway, and said to the foreman, “This structure is a safety hazard. Level it.” My pupils shrunk to pinpricks. A primal scream ripped from my throat: “Ethan.” CRASH! The heavy iron wrecking ball smashed into the red-brick archway, turning my father’s final legacy into a pile of generic dust. Ethan wrapped his arm around Chloe, turned on his heel, and got into the waiting black town car. The car roared to life, splashing mud all over my hospital gown as it sped away. I collapsed into the muddy gravel, staring at the debris. My eyes were bloodshot, devoid of tears. I crawled forward, inch by inch, using my blood-slicked right hand to clutch a single broken red brick. I pressed my face against the cold stone, imagining it was my father’s warm hand. I remembered him holding my hand, teaching me how to draw. I remembered the last words he said to me before he jumped: I’m sorry, Summer. Now, everything was gone. Clutching the brick, the tears finally spilled over. I lay in the ruins, and then, I began to laugh hysterically. “Ethan… you really are a monster!”

Summer’s POV I don’t remember how I got back to the estate. I only remember the private doctor using tweezers to pick the gravel and dirt out of my open wounds one by one. A week later, the cuts on my knees had scabbed over. Ethan tossed a pair of white silk stockings and a heavy wool trench coat onto the bed. He reached out, his fingers tracing my cheek. “Tonight is the joint venture gala. It’s on a yacht in international waters. Behave yourself, don’t act crazy, and I’ll let you enjoy the ocean breeze.” But the moment we boarded the yacht, every step up the stairs tore my fresh scabs open. Thick blood soaked through the white stockings, making me break into a cold sweat from the pain. Ethan’s hand tightened around my shoulder, his grip tight enough to bruise my bones. He whispered in my ear, “We have international investors here tonight. If you act up, I will throw you straight into a psychiatric facility.” I let him drag me into the shadows of the ballroom. Across the room, Chloe, clad in a custom designer gown, was holds a glass of champagne, laughing with the elite. The crowd surrounded her, praising her as the architectural genius behind the modern cathedral. Meanwhile, I was discarded in the darkest corner of the room. I hadn’t had a drop of water since yesterday. My empty stomach twisted in pain, and I had to pinch the flesh of my thigh hard just to stay conscious. I was waiting for midnight. The time Christian and I had agreed upon. Right now, in the blind spot of the yacht’s security cameras, jumping into the black ocean was my only way out. My only chance to escape Ethan forever. The clock on the wall finally struck twelve. I stood up, using the wall for support. I moved slowly, making sure not to draw any attention. Amidst the clinking glasses and loud laughter, I pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped onto the deck. It was pitch black outside. The ocean wind cut through my clothes like knives, making me cough violently. I gripped the railing. Below me, the black waves of the open sea churned violently. I unbuttoned the wool coat, took it off, and folded it neatly, placing it on the deck. I shed the coat, and I slid off my wedding ring, placing it on top. I was going to leave the broken, tortured version of Summer on this boat forever. To Ethan, this would look like a desperate suicide. But to me, it was the first day of my life. I climbed over the iron railing, standing on the narrow ledge over the abyss. “Summer! What the hell are you doing?!” Ethan’s panicked roar shattered the wind behind me. I turned my head. Ethan was sprinting toward me, his hands outstretched. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice trembling in the wind. “Get down from there. Who said you could stand there?” I looked at him, and for the first time in three years, a genuine, beautiful smile crossed my face. I pulled the flesh-colored earplugs from my ears, tossed them into the black sea, and spoke, my voice raspy but clear. “Ethan. We’re even.” Just as his fingers brushed the hem of my dress, I leaned backward, falling into the dark water below. “Summer.”

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My fiancée was obsessed with a brand-new condo development and insisted I buy a unit for our future home. But just as we were about to sign the contract, she suddenly turned her attention to a cramped, 600-square-foot fixer-upper in a run-down district. “Ethan, look at this place. It has so much vintage charm.” “I want this shack to be our home.” This rundown junk house cost exactly the same as the 1,400-square-foot luxury condo. The price was way above market value. My fiancée dragged me to the real estate agency, threatening that if I didn’t buy this old place, the wedding was off. As I hesitated, a stream of glowing comments suddenly floated before my eyes. [This fixer-upper actually belongs to your fiancée’s ex-boyfriend, Tyler Ross.] [Once you buy this house, Tyler will take your money and buy that exact luxury condo you wanted as his own place.] [Sign the contract now. This neighborhood is slated for a city buyout. Massive redevelopment is coming. Meanwhile, that luxury condo project is about to go under. It will never be finished.]

My fiancée, Chloe Harper, shoved the pen into my hand, her voice sharp with impatience. “Ethan, if you don’t buy this house, the wedding is off. I mean it.” I frowned, staring at her while the words from the floating text echoed in my mind. Was this house really her ex-boyfriend’s? Just yesterday, she was head over heels for the luxury condo. Why the sudden, overnight obsession with this dump? Marcus, the real estate agent, flashed a greasy smile and chimed in. “Mr. Vance, don’t let the exterior fool you. With a little renovation, this place will look brand new.” “Besides, who knows when that new condo development will actually be completed?” “It definitely won’t be ready in time for your wedding.” Chloe nodded eagerly. “Exactly! Who knows when they’ll finish building it? It might end up as an abandoned construction site.” “Ethan, I’m not waiting forever to get married.” I was still skeptical about the mysterious floating text. I lowered my head, flipping to the seller’s information page on the contract. The name Tyler Ross stared right back at me in bold, black ink. So, the bullet comments hadn’t lied. Everything about Chloe’s bizarre behavior over the last two days suddenly made sense. I looked up, locking eyes with my fiancée. “Chloe, are you absolutely sure you want this place?” “If we buy this, we’re living here. The commute is terrible.” “Ethan, I am one hundred percent sure.” “Once we’re married, you can just buy me a new car for my commute. Problem solved, right?” She looked so desperate, as if she wanted to grab my hand and force me to sign. “Alright, Chloe. We’ll do it your way.” I gripped the pen and swiftly signed my name. The moment the ink dried, she began pushing me to wire the funds immediately. “Ethan, why don’t we go to the bank right now and finalize the payment?” “I won’t feel at peace until the money is gone.” “You already have the funds ready anyway. There’s no point in delaying.” She practically dragged me to the bank to wire the money. The very next day, she took me to the county clerk’s office to transfer the deed. That was where I met the owner of the fixer-upper, Tyler Ross. He was of average height, with a plain face, but he was incredibly enthusiastic. “Mr. Vance, if I weren’t in desperate need of cash, I would never have sold this place.” He didn’t speak to Chloe once. They didn’t even exchange a single glance. To anyone else, they looked like complete strangers. That night, I received a call from the sales manager of the luxury condo development. “Mr. Vance, are you really giving up on your unit?” “Yes.” “Alright, I’ll release the hold. Coincidentally, a Mr. Ross just put down a deposit on that exact unit. He said it’s for his upcoming wedding.” “He even brought his girlfriend along today to see it.” I was baffled. Chloe was willing to live in a dump just so her ex could afford a luxury condo? Did she still have feelings for him? Well, since the “new home” was secured, we had scheduled a dinner with both families at a high-end restaurant to discuss the wedding.

Chloe called saying she had an urgent issue at work and would be late. “Ethan, what on earth were you thinking? Passing up a luxury condo for a run-down shack?” Chloe’s mother, Eleanor, glared at me, her face pinched with dissatisfaction. “That old house couldn’t have cost much, right?” “Since the house is such a downgrade, you’ll have to make up for it with the wedding budget.” “The $30,000 we agreed on earlier is way too low. Let’s make it $90,000.” “And you need to buy Chloe a new car. Nothing less than $40,000.” Eleanor’s spit was practically flying across the table as she barked her demands. It was obvious Chloe hadn’t told her parents the actual price of the house. “Eleanor, Chloe was the one who insisted on buying that house,” I replied calmly. “She threatened to call off the wedding if I didn’t. And for the record, the old house cost the exact same as the new condo.” Eleanor and her husband exchanged a look of pure disbelief. Just then, the private dining room door slid open, and Chloe walked in, panting slightly. She took the seat next to me and hurriedly gulped down some water. “Chloe, did you really demand to buy that fixer-upper?” Eleanor’s brow furrowed, her wrinkles deepening. “Mom, it was just a sudden whim. Who knew Ethan would actually buy it?” Chloe brushed it off as if it were nothing, though she had literally blackmailed me with our marriage. “But since it’s bought, let’s just leave it at that.” Suddenly, she turned her head to look at me. “Ethan, I’m already sacrificing so much by agreeing to live in that old place. You can’t mistreat me.” “Tomorrow is the weekend. Why don’t we go shopping for my wedding jewelry?” Before I could even open my mouth, Eleanor chimed in, listing off how many carats the diamond should be. The three of them launched into a heated, enthusiastic discussion. My parents and I sat in silence, completely shut out of the conversation. Suddenly, another stream of glowing text floated before my eyes. [Your fiancée wasn’t working overtime today. She was at a luxury jewelry boutique.] [She and Tyler already picked out the exact designs. She’s just waiting for you to pay for them tomorrow.] [After buying the jewelry, she plans to drag you to a dealership to buy a car.] [Oh, by the way, she intends to ‘lend’ both the jewelry and the new car to Tyler for his wedding.] [Your fiancée is really giving her all to make sure her ex has a perfect wedding.] When the waiter served the food, Chloe’s family finally quieted down. “Ethan, it’s not convenient to commute without a car. Let’s go car shopping right after the jewelry store tomorrow.” Sure enough, her words matched the bullet comments perfectly. But I still couldn’t understand. Why was she doing this? If she still loved Tyler, why didn’t she just marry him? Instead, she was exhausting herself to fund his wedding with someone else. I tapped my fingers rhythmically against my teacup, my brow furrowing. “Chloe, I just bought the house. My liquid cash is a bit tight right now.” “There’s no rush for those things anyway. I want to prioritize the renovation budget first.” Instantly, Chloe’s face turned sour, her eyes flashing with anger. With a loud bang, Eleanor slammed her hand onto the table and stood up. “Ethan, what is the meaning of this?” “Not only are you making my daughter live in a dump, but now you won’t even buy her basic jewelry and a car?” “Let me tell you, plenty of wealthy men are begging to marry our Chloe.” “Come on, Chloe. We’re leaving. This wedding is off.” The moment she finished speaking, Eleanor grabbed Chloe’s arm and marched toward the door. My parents stood up, trying to defuse the situation, but I shook my head at them, signaling them to stay put. Noticing Chloe had left her phone on the table, I picked it up and followed them out. I caught up with them near the restaurant entrance. “Mom, what are you doing? This is so embarrassing,” Chloe was whining.

“Chloe, this is how you handle men. Now Ethan will crawl back and agree to everything.” “Even if Ethan is tight on cash, his parents have deep pockets.” “If he won’t pay up now, he never will after you’re married.” I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. They were actually targeting my parents’ retirement savings. “Oh, wait. I think I left my phone.” Chloe patted her pockets, turned around, and froze when she saw me standing there. Shock flickered across her face, followed by awkwardness. She stammered, “Ethan… how long have you been standing there?” I handed her the phone. “I came to bring you this.” “My mom was just joking earlier. Don’t take it to heart,” Chloe said quickly, trying to smooth things over. I looked her up and down. She felt like a complete stranger to me now. Two years ago, we met at a party. She had been so gentle, sweet, and always put others first. We fell in love quickly. She had told me she wanted us to live on our own after marriage, in our own little world. My career had been going well, and I had saved enough to buy a house in full. She had fallen in love with that luxury condo development at first sight. She used to talk about how great the neighborhood was, how close it was to good schools, and how perfect it would be for our future kids. We had looked at other properties, but she rejected them all. She only wanted that one. She had repeatedly emphasized that she would never accept a secondhand house. And yet, almost overnight, she had become a completely different person. “Ethan, actually, the renovations can wait.” “We can just make do with the current state of the house and renovate it when we have more money later.” Chloe’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. Eleanor immediately chimed in. “Chloe makes a good point. The priority right now is buying the jewelry and the car.” “Gold and diamonds only go up in value. Chloe is actually helping you save money, Ethan.” By this time, my parents had caught up and walked out of the restaurant. “We can talk this through. It’s a waste to leave all that food. Why don’t we go back inside?” my mom suggested gently. Hearing this, Chloe nodded. “Yes, let’s go back inside.” “My mom was just hot-headed. Please don’t be angry.” But as they tried to walk past me, I stepped in and blocked the entrance. “Chloe, I won’t be buying the jewelry or the car anytime soon.” “And I will not be using a single cent of my parents’ money.” Chloe’s eyes went red. She clenched her fists so hard the veins on the back of her hands popped. “Ethan, do you really have to do this?” “Fine. Then let’s just call off the wedding.” Once again, she used our marriage to threaten me. I let out a soft, dry laugh. “Fine.” After that disastrous dinner, I cut off all contact with Chloe. My parents urged me to apologize, even offering to pay for the car and jewelry themselves, but I flatly refused. Three days later, Chloe finally called me. “Ethan, are you going to buy the jewelry and the car or not?” “If you take me shopping today, I’ll overlook everything that happened.” “But if you’re going to remain stubborn, then we’re done. Let’s break up.” My hand gripped the phone tightly. After a moment of silence, I spoke calmly. “I told you, I’m not buying them. If you want to break up, I won’t stop you.” She unleashed a stream of furious curses on the other end. Even without seeing her face, I could picture her livid expression. “Fine, Ethan. Don’t you dare regret this.” “Go ahead and rot in that garbage shack. Let’s see what kind of woman would ever be willing to live there with you.” “By the way, did you even bother to check the actual value of that dump?”

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According to my family’s tradition, the groom had to put the wedding shoes on the bride’s feet with his own hands. It symbolized that our future path together would be filled with pure happiness. But just as my fiancé was about to slip the shoes onto my feet, his childhood best friend, Chloe Higgins, let out a sharp cry. “Julian! The clasp on my high heels just broke. Can you help me fix it?” Without a second thought, Julian Carter threw my wedding shoes aside. He turned around, got down on one knee in front of Chloe, and began fixing her clasp. An Angered heat rushed to my face, and I questioned him: “Julian, according to my family’s tradition, you are only supposed to put shoes on your bride today.” He didn’t even look up. “What century are we living in? Why are you still believing in such silly superstitions?” Chloe wiggled her foot once the shoe was fixed, giving me a smug, sweet smile. “Is Evelyn mad? He’s just being kind by helping me. You’re lucky to marry someone as sweet as Julian.” I looked down at my bare feet. Suddenly, I felt there was no point in wearing these wedding shoes anymore. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the man who had personally handcrafted a pair of shoes for me years ago: 【Want to crash a wedding?】 【Bring the wedding shoes you made for me, and take the bride away.】

【Wait for me!】 Seeing the quick reply, I locked my phone screen. Chloe stepped in her newly fixed shoes, twirling half a circle. The hem of her bridesmaid dress brushed past Julian’s knees, seemingly by accident. “You’ve got great hands,” she said, her eyes curving flirtatiously. Julian smiled helplessly, his gaze warm. “Alright, stop jumping around. If they break again, I won’t have time to fix them.” The two of them smiled at each other, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. I sat on the edge of the bed, my toes curling involuntarily. The cold air from the air conditioner crawled up my ankles, sending a chill straight to my heart. My mom couldn’t take it anymore. She stepped forward, physically blocking the two of them. “Julian, the ceremony is starting in twenty minutes. Why haven’t you put Evelyn’s shoes on yet?” “Our family tradition says the groom must put the shoes on the bride for the marriage to be blessed.” “What’s wrong with you, leaving Evelyn sitting here while you fix a bridesmaid’s shoe?” Only then did Julian look at me, but his expression was entirely indifferent. “Traditions are flexible, Eleanor.” He turned around and took a luxury designer box from his best man. “I actually prepared a surprise for Evelyn.” He opened the box, revealing a pair of custom haute couture wedding shoes. The other bridesmaids let out a collective gasp of awe. “Oh my god, they are gorgeous! I heard this design has a six-month waiting list!” “The groom is so thoughtful. Evelyn, you are so lucky.” Julian held the box, his tone carrying a hint of self-righteous pride. “I had a friend fly these in from Paris just so you could have a unique wedding.” I stared at the shoes. My heart felt absolutely nothing. Twelve-centimeter stiletto heels. An extremely narrow, pointed toe. These were all the design elements I avoided at all costs in my daily life. I have a high arch. I can’t wear pointed shoes, and I certainly can’t walk in such thin heels. And Julian knew this perfectly well. Three years ago, on my birthday, he took me on a date to an amusement park. The new shoes I wore that day blistered my heels, and I was walking a bit slow. He noticed immediately. He knelt down, took my shoes off, and threw them straight into the trash can. Then, ignoring the startled looks of the crowd, he took off his own limited-edition sneakers and put them on my feet. His shoes were massive on me, like two giant boats, but they were incredibly warm. He ran across the scorching asphalt in just his socks to a nearby shop to buy me a pair of cute, soft cotton slides. Back then, he kissed the tip of my nose, his eyes filled with pure love. “My Evelyn’s feet are meant for walking on smooth paths.” “We will never wear shoes that don’t fit again.” That memory was etched into my soul. But now… Chloe leaned in, her smile barely concealed. “Evelyn, these shoes suit you so well, don’t they? I helped Julian pick them out for several nights!” The moment the words left her mouth, she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands in mock innocence. “Oh dear, did I ruin the surprise?” “Julian said you don’t know much about luxury brands, so he practically begged me to help him choose.” Julian nodded, taking it completely for granted. “Chloe always has great taste.” “The shoes you usually buy are too plain. Today is our big day, you should look radiant.” My mom’s face flushed with anger. “Only the feet know if the shoes fit! What’s the point of them looking good if they hurt?” “Evelyn is not used to such high stilettos. What if she falls?” Chloe chipped in with a giggle. “Julian will be holding her. How could she fall?” “When a girl gets married, suffering a little for beauty is totally worth it.” Julian casually tossed the luxury box onto the end of the bed and reached out to grab my ankle. His palm was warm, but I felt freezing cold. He picked up the stiletto and tried to force it onto my foot without even asking. The moment my toes hit the narrow front, a sharp, piercing pain shot up my leg. I instinctively pulled my foot back. “Ouch! It hurts!” “Stop squirming!” Julian frowned, his voice growing impatient. “Just squeeze into it. It’ll fit.” His grip tightened, and he tried to force my foot into the shoe again. The rough edge scraped off a piece of my skin, and my heel instantly turned red. It hurt so bad! I kicked my foot back with force. The sharp metal clasp scraped across my instep, leaving a harsh white scratch. “Julian, I wear a size 7.” “But these custom shoes are a size 6.” “That is Chloe’s shoe size.”

The noisy bedroom fell into a sudden, dead silence. Julian froze at the edge of the bed. He hesitantly looked down at the label on the side of the box. Size: 6. Irritated, he tugged at his tie and whipped his head around to glare at Chloe. Tears instantly welled up in Chloe’s eyes, her voice trembling with a sob. “Julian… I’m so sorry.” “I asked the designer, and they said this style runs large. Plus, a size 6 looks best in photos. It makes the bride’s feet look small and delicate.” She grabbed Julian’s sleeve, tears streaming down her face. “I just wanted Evelyn to look perfect in the wedding photos. I didn’t mean to… I really didn’t know she couldn’t even squeeze into them…” With only twenty minutes left before the ceremony, it was impossible to find another pair of wedding shoes! Julian sighed, reaching out to gently pat Chloe’s hair. “It’s not your fault. You had good intentions. I was too busy and didn’t double-check the order myself.” He picked up the small shoe again, softening his voice as he looked at me. “Evelyn, we’re out of time. Just deal with it for half a day.” “You don’t have to walk much in the wedding car anyway. Once we get to the venue, we’ll just do the ceremony walk, and it’ll be over before you know it.” I stared at him, the last warmth in my heart freezing over. Once, Julian’s favorite thing to brag about was how he memorized all my sizes. At parties with friends, he would put his arm around my shoulder and say: “A man who can’t even remember his own woman’s shoe size and ring size doesn’t deserve to be in a relationship.” He knew damn well I was a size 7. He knew my arches were high and that I couldn’t handle tight shoes. Yet now, he outsourced such an important task to Chloe, and even after she messed up, he wanted me to “deal with it”! I asked coldly, “On the most important day of my life, you want me to force my feet into shoes that don’t fit?” Julian’s brow furrowed deep. “Can’t you just bear it for a bit? You usually don’t complain about bumps and bruises. Why are you making such a big deal out of this today?” My mom rushed over, snatched the shoe from his hand, and slammed it onto the floor. “I raised my daughter for over twenty years, and on her wedding day, you want her to suffer in tiny shoes?!” The heel hit the hardwood floor with a loud, dull thud. “Oh dear, what’s with the temper?” The bedroom door was pushed open, and Julian’s mother, Beatrice Carter, walked in slowly. Her eyes were filled with nothing but disdain as she looked at me. “Is this tiny matter really worth throwing a tantrum in front of all these people?” “If the shoe is too small, just take out the insoles. Problem solved.” My dad stepped forward, his face dark. “An ill-fitting shoe on a wedding day ruins the blessing! You’re basically cursing my daughter to have a hard life ahead!” Beatrice squeezed out a fake smile. “Arthur, the Carter family is well-known in this city.” “These shoes cost fifteen thousand dollars. If Evelyn throws a fit in public, what will people think of us?” She affectionately took Chloe’s arm. “Chloe stayed up all night helping select the style. Even if she made a mistake, she worked hard.” “You guys are being incredibly petty by making a mountain out of a molehill.” Chloe turned to another bridesmaid, Harper. “Harper, aren’t you a size 7?” “Evelyn has nothing to wear, and the ceremony is about to start. Can she borrow your shoes for the ceremony?” Harper froze, looking awkward, but she slowly slipped off her semi-worn red high heels. Chloe took the shoes and pushed them to my feet, acting as if she was saving the day. “Evelyn, these will definitely fit. Please don’t let my mistake ruin your big day.” Julian looked at Chloe with absolute admiration in his eyes. “See? This is how you handle things smoothly.” “Just wear these. The wedding party is waiting.” I looked down at the worn-out shoes that still carried someone else’s body heat. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “Julian Carter, you want me to wear someone else’s old shoes on my wedding day?”

“They’re just shoes! Do you have to embarrass everyone like this?” Julian’s patience finally snapped. He kicked Harper’s old shoes aside. “Dozens of relatives are waiting outside, and we have over a hundred tables booked at the venue.” “Evelyn Vance, do you really have to pick a fight right now?” He stood tall in front of me, his expression cold and stubborn. He was absolutely sure I wouldn’t dare ruin the wedding. The invitations had been sent to everyone in town, and the wedding had been in preparation for over six months. In his eyes, I was always soft-tempered and cared deeply about my parents’ reputation. He believed I would never dare to call off the wedding. My mom was trembling with rage, pointing at the door. “The Carter family has gone too far! We are not doing this wedding!” My dad stood in front of me like a solid, protective shield. “Take your things and get out.” Beatrice’s face twisted instantly, her voice screeching. “Arthur! The invitations are out! If you call off the wedding now, it’s the Vance family that will be humiliated!” “Have you forgotten your family’s social standing? Marrying into our family is a major step up for you guys.” “If you kick us out today, tomorrow the whole town will know your daughter is damaged goods who got dumped at the altar!” My dad’s shoulders tensed. He was a high school history teacher who had spent his entire life living honorably. He had never suffered such humiliation. But for my sake, he clenched his fists, standing his ground in silence, swallowing the bitter insult. Looking at the white hair at my father’s temples, my heart ached terribly. The day Julian proposed, it was in this very room. He had knelt before my parents, raising three fingers to swear: “Mr. Vance, Evelyn will have many titles in the future—Mrs. Carter, a daughter-in-law, a mother.” “But to me, she will always be your daughter first. She will always be Evelyn Vance.” “She won’t have to cook, she won’t have to network, she won’t have to please anyone. She can be as spoiled as she wants.” “I am marrying her not to make her sacrifice anything, but to make her the happiest girl alive.” Back then, my dad, a man who rarely cried, had red eyes as he placed my hand in Julian’s. But now? Julian wasn’t giving me love. He was making my parents drag their dignity through the mud with me. Seeing this, Chloe timidly tugged at the corner of Julian’s suit jacket. “Julian, go comfort Evelyn.” “You guys are getting married today. Please don’t fight. It’s all my fault…” “Shut up,” I said coldly, cutting her off. Chloe shrank back in fright, hiding behind Julian. Julian immediately shielded her, his face darkening. “Evelyn, why are you snapping at Chloe?” “She was kind enough to borrow shoes to solve your problem, and instead of saying thank you, you yell at her?” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I pointed at the size 6 wedding shoes. “Julian, pick up that shoe.” “Look at the back of the clasp. Tell me what is engraved there.” Julian suspiciously picked up the shoe and flipped it over. On the back of the metal clasp, two letters were clearly engraved: J & C Julian’s eyes flickered with panic, but he quickly forced a calm expression. “It’s just the designer’s personal mark. Stop looking for problems.” I exposed his lie without mercy. “The brand’s founder’s initials are not J and C.” Chloe waved her hands in a panic. “No, that’s not it… Julian said he wanted to give me a gift last month. Maybe the workshop mixed up the orders…” Mixed up the orders? The wedding shoes bought for the bride were engraved with the initials of the groom and another woman. He hadn’t even bothered to check them, or perhaps he just didn’t care if I found out. I threw back the wedding blanket and stepped bare feet onto the cold hardwood floor. The chill traveled from the soles of my feet straight to my heart. “Julian, do you really think I can’t survive without you?” Julian didn’t expect that I, who had always been submissive, would openly defy him in front of both our parents. “Stop acting crazy. The cars are waiting. Put on some shoes and let’s go.” He reached out to grab my wrist. I stepped back to avoid him, grabbed my wedding veil, and ripped it off my head. The hairpins holding the veil scattered all over the floor, and my long hair fell loosely over my shoulders. “I’m not going!”

Julian’s hand froze in midair. He stared at the white veil I had thrown at my feet, his breathing turning heavy. After a brief moment of panic, he straightened his back again, his voice turning threatening and cold. “Evelyn Vance, you better think carefully about the consequences.” “If you don’t walk down those stairs today, what will all the guests outside think of you?” “Will your family ever be able to hold their heads up in this town again?” He adjusted his slightly messy cuffs, treating the initials on the wedding shoes as a minor, insignificant detail. “No wedding is perfect. It’s just a little hiccup.” “If you want to throw a tantrum, I can let it slide, but don’t play games with our wedding.” “This ceremony isn’t something you can just cancel whenever you feel like it.” My mom held my hand tightly, glaring angrily at Julian. “Even if our family is whispered about for the rest of our lives, we will never throw our daughter into a burning fire!” “The wedding is off! We will take the blame, and we will pay back any deposits ourselves!” My dad’s slightly hunched back straightened up, his voice booming like a bell. “Don’t be afraid, Evelyn. Your parents are still here. Nobody can force you to marry someone you don’t want to.” “At worst, we’ll just move to another city. We’ll survive.” My nose tingled, and tears threatened to spill over. The people who truly loved me would never ask me to sacrifice myself for “the bigger picture.” They would stand by my side without hesitation when I was wronged. Julian’s face was incredibly ugly. He gave my parents a icy look, then turned to Chloe. “Chloe, take the bridesmaids to the venue first. Help me keep the guests and elders calm.” “I’ll stay here until she regains her senses.” Chloe nodded, holding her dress as she quickly walked out. Beatrice followed close behind, letting out a sneer before she left: “I’d like to see how long Evelyn can keep up this act.” “Once the wedding time passes, let’s see how the Vance family faces anyone in town!” The best men also took the hint and stepped out of the room. The bedroom fell quiet. Only my angry parents, myself, and Julian, who was leaning against the door frame lighting a cigarette, remained. “Don’t be sad, Evelyn…” My mom gently stroked my hair, her heart aching. “We can always move. Your dad and I have our pensions, we can support you!” I squeezed her hand, any remaining hesitation in my heart completely vanishing. Julian blew out a cloud of smoke and let out a soft sneer. “Alright, that’s enough. The venue is booked, you’ve already accepted the wedding expenses, and everyone is waiting.” “You’re twenty-six, Evelyn. If you don’t get married today, the whole town will know you were dumped. Who would ever want to marry you after this?” He gestured toward the size 6 shoes with his chin. “Be a good girl, put the shoes on, get in the car, and I can pretend none of this happened.” I didn’t even look at him. “Julian, you can marry whoever you want.” The moment my words fell, a panicked voice of a best man came from the hallway: “Julian! There are over a dozen black Rolls-Royce Phantoms downstairs! Their license plates are all sequential!” “They’ve completely blocked our wedding convoy! The scale is insane!” Amidst the shocked gasps outside, the elevator bell dinged. Steady, heavy footsteps approached from the hallway. Julian, still holding his cigarette, turned his head in confusion. A tall, striking man walked in against the light, followed closely by four suited bodyguards. His custom-made pure black suit wrapped perfectly around his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His sharp eyes carried the undeniable authority of a powerful business tycoon. Between his long fingers, he held a transparent, temperature-controlled dust box. Inside the box was a pair of hand-stitched, soft lambskin flat wedding shoes in vibrant red. Those were the shoes he had crafted years ago, holding my ankle and measuring my foot inch by inch with his own hands. Sebastian Thorne walked straight past the dumbfounded Julian and knelt on one knee right in front of me. He looked up, his deep, dark eyes locking onto mine. “Evelyn, I’m here to take my bride home.”

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My boyfriend, Zach, woke up from a car accident with temporary amnesia. The catch? He mistook my best friend, Chloe, for his fiancée. To keep him from suffering any more brain trauma, the doctor suggested I play along. So, I had to swap identities with my best friend. We agreed to only act the part. No intimacy. No real relationship. We were just supposed to wait until Zach got his memory back, and then everything would return to normal. But six months passed. Zach showed absolutely no signs of getting better. Until today, when I was mindlessly scrolling through Reddit and stumbled upon a trending advice post. [I got into a car crash, lost my memory, and mistook my girlfriend’s best friend for my actual girlfriend. Now that I have my memory back, I realized I’ve actually fallen in love with the best friend. How do I explain this to my original girlfriend?] The top comment, which had thousands of upvotes, offered a piece of advice: [Keep faking the amnesia, obviously! It’s the perfect chess move. If things go well, you get the best friend. If you regret it later, you can just pretend you “just” got your memory back.] The poster had liked that comment. And the username of the poster belonged to Zach. I looked up just as Zach and Chloe walked through the front door. He was carrying several grocery bags, following closely behind Chloe. When he looked at her, the adoration in his eyes was so thick it practically spilled onto the floor. As it turned out, Zach had stopped acting a long time ago. He had made the lie his reality.

“Nora! You’re home so early from work today.” “Zach and I just went to the grocery store. I was thinking of making some chicken noodle soup. You love that, right?” Zach stood behind her. He gave me a polite, distant nod, then turned and walked into the kitchen. Ever since Zach “lost his memory,” in order to not be separated from him, I had been forced to live here as a “guest” in their house. I was the actual, legal girlfriend. Yet, every single day, I had to choke down my jealousy and watch him pour his heart and soul into loving another woman. Every time I saw them holding hands or hugging in front of me, my heart felt like it was being shredded by a dull knife. I could only comfort myself over and over again in my head. Just wait until Zach gets his memory back. Everything will go back to how it was. I had endured this torture for six months. I didn’t get his recovery. Instead, I got the devastating news that he had actually fallen in love with Chloe. Chloe followed my gaze into the kitchen, looking at Zach’s busy back. She lowered her voice and whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry, Nora.” “I’m so useless. Zach still hasn’t remembered anything.” I looked down and let out a bitter laugh. She didn’t know. You can never wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep. “But don’t worry,” Chloe whispered, squeezing my arm. “I’m keeping an eye on him for you. I won’t let him do anything out of line.” “Yeah,” I mumbled, my mouth tasting like ash. “I actually just came back to grab something. I have to go out again in a bit.” Just then, Zach called Chloe from the kitchen to help him. She immediately perked up and said, “Go do what you need to do, Nora! By the time you get back, dinner will be ready.” I stood frozen in the hallway. I watched Chloe walk into the kitchen, put her hands—which she had just used to peel garlic—right up to Zach’s nose. “Smell it. Do my hands stink?” Zach lovingly kissed her fingers and smiled. “Not at all. You smell perfect.” They laughed and teased each other, looking exactly like a real, deeply-in-love couple. Everything before my eyes was the exact married life I had dreamed of for years. Except the female lead wasn’t me. Maybe they thought I had already walked out the door. Zach suddenly asked, “Has Nora been living in our guest room for six months now? Hasn’t she found her own apartment yet?” Chloe was taken aback. She stammered, “Well… no.” “It’s not safe for a girl to live alone. Plus, rent in this city is so expensive.” “Living with us makes her commute easier, and I feel better having her around. Why are you suddenly bringing this up?” Zach kept chopping vegetables, his voice firm and unwavering. “Tell her to move out. It’s not convenient with the three of us living together.” “Every time I want to be intimate with you, I have to worry about a roommate being in the next room.” “Besides, I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable in your own home.” “I was going to make that homemade pizza you love tonight.” “But the second you saw her, you changed it to soup because of her tastes. You’re acting like a guest in your own house, Chloe.” Chloe went quiet for a few seconds. Then, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

That kiss felt like a poisoned needle stabbing directly into my chest. Back when this all started, Chloe had sworn to God that she would keep her distance from Zach. In front of me, she used to avoid him as much as possible. But I didn’t know when it started—she had become so comfortable, so natural, with being physical with my boyfriend. “I know you care about me,” Chloe said softly. “But let’s talk about this later. It’s not that easy to find a good apartment right now.” Zach was already prepared. “I had a friend look at two places last week.” “They’re close to our place, and very close to her office.” Chloe had no choice but to agree. “Fine. I’ll talk to Nora when she gets back.” My eyes burned with tears. I forced them back and looked around the apartment. I looked at every corner of this condo—a home I had designed and decorated piece by piece for our future wedding. After Zach’s accident, my status changed from the owner of this house to a mere guest. All of my belongings had been packed up and shoved into the tiny guest room. In just six months, Chloe had completely erased every trace of my life here. And now, Zach wanted me to pack my bags and get out. The sound of their laughter drifting from the kitchen made my ears ache. I took a deep breath, turned around, and quietly slipped out the front door. I didn’t go back to the office. Instead, holding onto the absolute last shred of hope, I went to the hospital. What if that Reddit post wasn’t Zach? What if he really hadn’t recovered his memory? What if his feelings for Chloe were just a mistake because his brain confused her with me? “Zach Miller?” Dr. Carter finally found his name in a thick stack of medical files. “Oh, yes. I called him three months ago for a follow-up. He told me he had completely recovered his memory.” “I remember it was right around Thanksgiving.” “I even congratulated him on getting his memory back just in time for the holidays.” I froze. On Thanksgiving, Chloe’s parents came to visit. Zach had personally driven to the airport, picked them up, and played the most polite, welcoming host. That exact same day, my parents flew into the city with heavy bags, excited to see us. But Zach claimed he didn’t recognize them. He literally had the building security kick my parents out of the lobby. It was only then, when I couldn’t hide it anymore, that I had to tell my parents that Zach had lost his memory in a car crash. My mom had sighed and comforted me: “As long as he’s alive, that’s what matters. The doctor said it’s just a matter of time.” But back then, Zach already had his memory. He knew he wasn’t Chloe’s boyfriend. He knew damn well that I was the woman who had loved him for four years, the woman he was supposed to marry. Yet, he still chose to welcome Chloe’s parents and throw mine out onto the street. He was fully prepared to play the “amnesia” card for the rest of his life. Seeing me spacing out, Dr. Carter asked with concern, “Is something wrong? Is he having complications?” I shook my head, my voice hollow. “No. I was just checking. I was worried the blood clot in his brain hadn’t fully dissolved.” Dr. Carter smiled. “Don’t worry. His scan was completely clear.” “He is 100% recovered. It won’t affect your wedding plans at all.” “And it certainly won’t affect your love life.” Six months ago, Zach was in a coma for a week. I took a leave of absence from work and stayed by his bedside for seven days straight without sleeping. But the one time I went downstairs to pay the medical bills and asked Chloe to watch him for just ten minutes… Zach woke up. No matter how much I explained, he insisted Chloe was his girlfriend. Back then, Dr. Carter had told me that because of the trauma, his brain couldn’t handle any sudden shock. “I know you love him, and I know you guys are getting married,” the doctor had told me then. “But give it three months. He will recover. It won’t ruin your wedding.” Who would have thought that life could be this cruel? Our wedding was never going to happen.

As I took the elevator down, my mind was on overdrive, replaying everything Zach had done over the last three months. Now that I thought about it, his acting was actually terrible. I was just too blind, constantly using “amnesia” as an excuse to justify his behavior. Because I was so lost in my thoughts, I followed the crowd and accidentally got off at the OB-GYN floor. By the time I realized my mistake, I had already walked quite a distance from the elevator. Just as I was about to turn back, I saw a familiar figure. Zach. Why was he here? Shouldn’t he be at home making dinner with Chloe? I instinctively stopped outside one of the consultation rooms. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, the doctor’s voice drifted out. “You’re pregnant. Eight weeks.” “Are you keeping the baby?” Before Chloe could even answer, Zach burst out eagerly. “Yes! Yes, we are keeping it!” Zach was holding the ultrasound scan in his hand. He couldn’t wait another second. He pulled Chloe into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Did you hear the doctor, Chloe? We’re having a baby!” He was already starting to plan. “Before you start showing, we need to go to city hall and get married. We need a wedding.” “I’ll call my parents tomorrow. It’s a bit rushed, and I’m sorry if it feels sudden.” “But I promise you, I will give you everything. You won’t miss out on a single thing.” Zach had his back to the door. But Chloe was facing it. Her eyes locked right onto mine. Seeing my expressionless face, she went deathly pale. She shoved Zach away. Zach followed her gaze and turned around. The moment he saw me, a flash of panic crossed his eyes. “Nora? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” “Why are you at the OB-GYN?” I didn’t answer his question. My eyes were glued to Chloe. I asked the obvious. “You’re pregnant?” Chloe lowered her head guiltily, not daring to look at me. Zach stepped in front of her, shielding her. “We’re engaged, Nora. Things got passionate in bed and we didn’t use protection. It’s perfectly normal to get pregnant.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. I didn’t know if I was answering him or just talking to myself. “Right. You two are the engaged couple now.” On the drive back, Chloe sat next to me in the back seat, staring at her feet without saying a single word. Zach, in the driver’s seat, was on high alert. He kept checking the rearview mirror to watch me. It was as if he was terrified I would do something to his precious Chloe. But I just looked down at my phone and replied to the HR manager at my company. [I accept the transfer. I will go to the Italy branch as the lead engineer.] During the mid-year meeting, the corporate headquarters had decided to expand into the European market, selecting engineers from local branches to support the launch. Coincidentally, I was the only engineer in my branch who had minored in Italian in college. Before, even when I thought Zach had amnesia, I couldn’t bear the thought of a long-distance relationship. But between my career and Zach, I had chosen him once. From now on, I was only making decisions for myself. When we got back to the condo, I realized why they had gone to the hospital in the first place. Chloe had started vomiting violently while making dinner. Zach was worried it was a stomach issue, so he rushed her to the ER. Because he was worried the smell of grease would trigger her morning sickness again, Zach turned to me. “Nora, why don’t you go into the kitchen and finish up dinner?” Chloe looked at me with a conflicted expression. “But Zach… Nora doesn’t even know how to cook.” Zach helped her sit down on the sofa. “She can learn. We can’t have a pregnant woman doing physical labor.” The word pregnant pierced my ears. I turned around and went into the kitchen to wash the vegetables. Zach followed me in. The moment he entered, he locked the kitchen door behind him. “If anything happens to Chloe or the baby, I will make your life a living hell.”

It felt like someone had taken a rusty knife and carved a giant hole in my chest. The cold wind was howling right through me. I didn’t dare look up, terrified he would see the tears in my eyes. I forced my voice to sound as flat as possible. “You’re overthinking.” “Chloe is my best friend. I’m happy she’s pregnant.” “Why would you think I’d hurt her?” Zach’s eyes lingered on me for a moment. He was probably trying to figure out if I knew he had regained his memory. After a few seconds, his tense posture relaxed slightly. “I just mean, since you two are best friends, you should help take care of her more.” I didn’t say another word. A few minutes later, Chloe used the excuse of wanting ice cream to call me out of the kitchen. She looked at me, tears welling up in her eyes. I looked back at her, completely calm. “When did it start?” Her face was a mask of guilt, and she began to sob. “It was that one night… we both got too drunk. I swear I took the Plan B pill the next morning!” “Maybe it was expired. I don’t know how I still got pregnant.” She hadn’t mentioned a single word of this to me when it happened. And I had been living like a complete fool. I thought Zach was just a poor, tragic victim of amnesia who got the wrong girl. I thought Chloe was my loyal best friend who would never betray me. But now I saw the truth. I was the only one romanticizing the past. They had crossed the line long ago, right under my nose. Suddenly, Chloe dropped to her knees right in front of me. She raised her hand and slapped herself hard across the face. “I’m a terrible person. I betrayed you.” “I lost my mind. I made a mistake.” “Just say the word, Nora. If you want me to, I’ll go to the clinic and get an abortion tomorrow!” “There’s no need,” I said. She froze, looking up at me in disbelief. “No, I’ll do it. I’ll go right now… wait, what did you say?” I pulled my skirt out of her tight grip. “The baby is innocent.” Chloe’s eyes widened. “But what about you? What are you going to do, Nora?” Just then, Zach walked out of the kitchen with a plate of food. He walked right into the scene of Chloe kneeling at my feet. Chloe scrambled to her feet instantly, trying to cover. “Zach! It’s not what it looks like!” “I just slipped and fell, and Nora was about to help me up.” Zach’s temper flared instantly. He grabbed Chloe by the arm, pulling her behind him, and glared at me. “Did you not hear a single word of what I said in the kitchen?!” “Chloe was nice enough to let you stay in our home, and this is how you repay her?” Chloe grabbed his arm, crying hysterically. “It’s not Nora’s fault! Don’t yell at her!” Zach tried to control his breathing, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Fine. I won’t argue about what just happened.” “But you are moving out of my apartment today.” “Chloe is pregnant. It’s not suitable for an outsider to live here anymore.” Chloe’s body went rigid. She turned her head slowly, looking at me to see my reaction. “Okay,” I said. Without a single second of hesitation, I went into the guest room and started packing my things. As I dragged my suitcase to the front door, Chloe held onto my hand, whispering, “Don’t worry, Nora. I’ll convince Zach to let you move back in tonight.” “No need,” I said, pulling my hand away. The moment I stepped out of the apartment building, I dialed my real estate agent. “I want to sell my condo. Cash buyer preferred. As fast as possible.” Zach had played the amnesia card for so long, he seemed to have forgotten something very important. This condo was bought in full by my parents as my wedding gift.

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My sister and I were kidnapped when we were kids. I gave her the only chance to escape. After years of living through hell, I finally dragged myself back home. By then, my sister, Sienna, had already become the pampered heiress of the Hale family. I thought we’d have a tearful reunion and I’d finally get to live a peaceful life. But my own flesh and blood stole my fiancé, turned our parents against me, and ruined my reputation. In the end, she had me thrown into the freezing ocean, leaving me to rot in the dark, unknown to anyone. But I survived. No, I was reborn. I woke up on the very day we were kidnapped. This time, Sienna, I’m not giving you the chance to run. *** **1.** Even as the icy water filled my lungs, I couldn’t believe how much Sienna hated me. She had told everyone that I was a greedy traitor who stole family money and ran away to Europe. She had cried those crocodile tears so convincingly that our parents held her, weeping with her. “She wasn’t raised by our side since she was little,” they’d sighed. “Of course she has no loyalty to this family.” They had no idea that my bloated body had been floating in the ocean for three days and nights. Unclaimed. Unloved. As I lost my footing and plunged into the abyss, I stared at the hands that had pushed me. “Why, Sienna?” I gasped. My own sister smiled, her eyes cold and venomous like a viper. “Why couldn’t you just stay in that godforsaken mountain shack, Chloe? Why did you have to come back?” “No one is taking my life away from me. Not even you, my dear sister.” The heavy, crushing waves swallowed me, tearing the last bit of oxygen from my chest. I didn’t even have time to cry out my regrets. When we were six, Sienna and I were taken. I gave her the only escape route. I told her to memorize our location and promised she would bring help back for me. I waited for so long. But help never came. Eventually, a couple who wanted to buy a child came to the camp. I didn’t want to be sold to some old creep in the woods, so I used every ounce of my wit. I faked amnesia, put on my most pitiful face, and grabbed their attention. “Are you my mommy and daddy? I missed you so much,” I cried, throwing my tiny arms around the woman’s neck. Her heart melted, and she actually bought me. The traffickers blindfolded me, and after days of bumpy riding, we arrived at an isolated, run-down farm deep in the mountains. But when the husband saw his wife had brought back a girl instead of a boy, he lost his temper and beat me mercilessly. “Why did you waste money on a useless mouth to feed?” Years of harsh sun, endless farm labor, and countless whip scars aged me far beyond my years. By the time I turned eighteen, the man tried to sell me to a creepy old hermit in the next valley to be his “wife.” I fought back with everything I had. The man beat me half to death and locked me in the barn. But that night, the wife finally showed a shred of mercy. Under the cover of darkness, she unlocked the door and let me go. I ran out of those mountains. The first thing I did was look for my real family. Every single night, fearing I would forget my parents’ names, I had whispered them like a mantra. Fortunately, the Hale family was prominent and wealthy. It didn’t take much digging to find them. When I finally returned, they were warm to me at first. But gradually, things changed. They began to resent my timidness and my lack of high-society etiquette. “A daughter of the Hale family cannot look so unpolished,” my father, Robert, would say. Soon, they stopped taking me to galas and charity events. “Just stay home, Chloe. Don’t go out. We can’t let the media snap photos of you looking like this.” Their eyes and hearts only had room for Sienna. Julian Vance, the boy I had been betrothed to since childhood as part of a family alliance, came to see me once. He shook his head in disgust. “A sun-baked, uneducated hillbilly? I’d rather die than marry her!” Fine. If he didn’t want me, we could call off the arrangement. But the very next day, a scandal broke. Julian and my sister were caught in bed together, and the photos were leaked all over Instagram. Holding Julian’s hand in front of reporters, Sienna sobbed, “Julian and I are truly in love. But my sister… she just won’t let him go.” The media swarmed me. Overnight, the internet tore me to pieces. “Look at her. She looks like a maid. How does she think a childhood contract makes her worthy of Julian?” “She has no degree, no class, and no looks. She can’t even hold a candle to Sienna.” My parents suggested buying me a house in Switzerland to “let things blow over.” I agreed. But somehow, the narrative was spun that I had stolen millions from the family and fled the country. Sienna came to see me off. She offered comfort as we walked along the cliffside by the sea. And then, she pushed me. I closed my eyes in agony. I had been so stupid. Even in my final moments, I had been craving a sliver of sisterly love. *** **2.** “Chloe. Chloe, wake up!” A high-pitched, childish voice called out, accompanied by a violent shaking of my shoulders. I gasped, my eyes flying open. Sienna’s young face stared back at me, startling me. We were crammed inside the back of a moving truck that smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap beer. The suffocating feeling of drowning was gone. I had been reborn. I was back to the day we were kidnapped. “Chloe, are they going to sell us? Do something! Please!” Sienna clutched my arm, her face pale with terror. I looked at her coldly. I felt absolutely nothing for this sister of mine anymore. “Be quiet,” I muttered. In my past life, it was because she wouldn’t stop crying that I took several brutal beatings for her. Hearing my cold tone, Sienna shrieked even louder. A scrawny trafficker opened the cabin window, brandishing a wooden club. “Shut the hell up back there! You want to die?!” He swung the club toward us. Sienna screamed and tried to hide behind me. This time, I stepped aside. The club landed squarely on Sienna’s shoulder. She screamed in pain. Annoyed, the man hit her a few more times. I stood there, watching. I was never going to shield her again. Sienna finally realized that crying only brought pain, and she shut her mouth, trembling. I quietly studied our surroundings. Every time the truck slowed down, I made mental notes of the landmarks. Finally, the truck pulled over near a highway construction site at the edge of a small town. This was it. The exact moment of escape from my memory. There were two guards. One rushed off to find a restroom, leaving only one behind. The remaining guard saw some construction workers playing cards and betting money nearby. He tied us up hastily and went over to join them. Seeing him walk away, I squirmed toward a nearby wooden crate. I slammed my body against it, sending a glass bottle rolling out and shattering on the floor. Reaching behind my back, I grabbed a sharp shard and began sawing at the ropes around my wrists. Sienna, who had a cloth stuffed in her mouth, saw what I was doing and began to mumble frantically, “Me… save me…” She was only five years old right now. I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then sliced her ropes open. She glared at me immediately. “You’re a horrible sister! You were going to leave me behind!” I frowned and ignored her. Quietly slipping out of the truck, I relied on my memory and kept low, scanning the area. My eyes lit up. A flatbed cart loaded with high stacks of hay. It was right there. “You’re going to hide in *that*? No way, I’m not doing that. It looks filthy, and they’ll find you in two seconds,” Sienna sneered, pinching her nose. “Go wherever you want then,” I said coolly. I didn’t try to convince her. The hay cart was only big enough to hide one child anyway. In our past life, she had refused to get in, and I had spent precious minutes begging her until she finally relented and took the spot, leaving me to be caught. Without another word, I wiggled into the deep, sweet-smelling hay. Being small and flexible, I managed to bury myself completely. I started counting in my head. In ten minutes, an old local worker would come to wheel this cart away. But at minute eight, chaos broke out outside. I heard the trafficker’s harsh voice. “Just disciplining my stubborn kid, folks! Nothing to see here!” *Smack!* The sound of hard slaps echoed, followed by Sienna’s hysterical wailing. My heart leaped into my throat. Suddenly, the cart jolted. The old man had started moving it. I prayed silently for him to push faster. “Stop hitting me! My sister is hiding in the hay cart! Go get her!” Sienna shrieked through her tears. Heavy, rushing footsteps approached. The cart ground to a halt. “Hey, old man. Our girl ran off. We need to search your hay.” I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the worst. But the hay wasn’t uncovered. The old man stood his ground. “I packed this hay myself. There’s nothing in here but feed.” The trafficker didn’t care. “Get out of the way, old man, before we show you what these fists can do!” Instead of backing down, the old man threw himself onto the dirt road and wailed at the top of his lungs, “Help! These young thugs are beating up a poor, helpless old man!” His loud cries immediately drew the attention of the nearby construction workers. Many of them knew the old man. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing to George?!” they yelled, stepping forward. Seeing a crowd gather, the traffickers panicked. With a muttered curse, they turned and fled. The cart began to move again. I didn’t know how much time had passed. Drowsiness washed over me, but I kept pinching my thigh to stay awake. Finally, the cart stopped, and George’s gentle voice drifted down: “You can come out now, kiddo.” I hesitated, then slowly poked my head out of the hay. George pulled a cold roll from his bag and handed it to me. “Hungry? Here.” I took it, whispering, “How did you know I was in there?” The old man chuckled. “That cart was awfully heavy today. Made this old man sweat buckets.” He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a worn handkerchief, unfolding it to reveal a few crumpled dollar bills and some coins. He handed some to me. “Wait here. A bus to the city will be by soon.” Warmth flooded my chest. “Thank you, George…” I bowed deeply to him. *** **3.** The rest of the journey was smooth. Once I reached the city, I went straight to the police station. Within twenty-four hours, my parents arrived. It was ironic. The journey that had taken me over a decade to complete in my past life took only a day this time. Eleanor held me tight, weeping. “Chloe, oh my god, where did you go? I was losing my mind!” I froze in her arms, not knowing how to react. The loving parents and the affection I had craved so desperately in my past life were right here. But I couldn’t bring myself to hug her back. Seeing my stiff posture, Robert touched my forehead. “No fever. What’s wrong, sweetie? We’re your mommy and daddy. Don’t you remember us?” I swallowed my emotions. “I’m okay. But… Sienna…” They froze, suddenly realizing someone was missing. They looked around frantically. “Where is Sienna?” I shook my head. “She didn’t make it out.” In my past life, they had asked Sienna the same question. But Sienna had told them: *“Chloe fell into the river while we were running, and she drowned.”* They had believed her, stopped looking for me, and poured all their love onto her. When I had finally reappeared years later, they had been awkward and distant. Even though they tried to make it up to me, I wasn’t the daughter they had raised. There was always a wall between us. Sienna could lounge in Eleanor’s lap and gossip, while I stood awkwardly by the door. I was always the outsider looking in. And every time I tried to get closer to my parents, Sienna would chime in with her passive-aggressive remarks. “Oh, Chloe, that’s not how you eat steak.” “Mom, Chloe didn’t even finish high school. It’s going to be so embarrassing if she works at the company.” “You can just throw away the leftovers, Chloe. Why are you hoarding them in the fridge? It smells awful.” She constant reminded them that I was a peasant. That only Sienna was worthy of being a Hale. Eleanor squeezed my hand, her voice soft and reassuring. “It’s okay, Chloe. Don’t blame yourself. It’s our fault for not watching you closely enough. We will find your sister.” I forced a stiff smile. I gave the police a detailed description of the traffickers and the last location I saw them. As for whether Sienna would be saved, that was up to her own fate. I hated her, but I didn’t want her to die at the hands of traffickers. Those monsters deserved to be locked up anyway. The detective gave me a thumbs-up. “Your kid is incredible, Mr. Hale. To stay that calm under pressure and memorize so many details… this information is gold.” Robert smiled proudly. “A daughter of the Hale family is bound to be extraordinary.” They took me home. I remained quiet during the ride. When we arrived, I stared at the bright, spacious living room and the pink, princess-themed bedroom. It felt too beautiful to touch. It was nothing like the mold-infested, drafty shack I had lived in during my past life. Here, the roof wouldn’t leak when it rained, and rats wouldn’t crawl into my clothes at night. I touched the brand-new school backpack on the bed. I was finally going to get an education. Tears welled up in my eyes. Eleanor noticed and pulled me onto her lap, looking confused. “You didn’t cry when you saw us, but you’re crying over a backpack? Is a backpack more important than your mommy?” I couldn’t help but ask, “Mom… if I didn’t have an education, and if I were dirty, dark-skinned, and ugly… would you still love me?” “You’re my flesh and blood, Chloe. No matter what you look like, I will always love you.” Robert walked over and tapped my head playfully. “Silly girl. We’re here now. We would never let you become like that.” I slowly lowered my head. *Liar.* My throat tightened, and a silent tear soaked into my sleeve. *** **4.** Over the next few weeks, Eleanor barely left my side. Whenever Robert had free time, he took me to theme parks. There were no endless farm chores, no livestock to feed, and no local bullies throwing rocks at me. Yet, I could still see a faint, lingering disappointment in their eyes whenever they looked at me. One afternoon, Eleanor answered a phone call. She broke down, clutching me as she sobbed. “They might never find your sister!” Based on the information I provided, the police had busted the first ring of traffickers. But Sienna had already been sold down the line. The people who took us were just low-level runners. The trafficking network was vast and terrifyingly complex. Finding her now would be like finding a needle in an ocean. I didn’t shed a single tear. Eleanor pulled back and stared at me like I was a monster. “Chloe, that’s your sister! Aren’t you sad at all? Ever since you came back, you’ve been so cold. We do everything for you, but you don’t care. How can your heart be so stony?” I pretended to feel sick, slipped out of her embrace, and went up to my room, locking the door. Of course I could have squeezed out a few fake tears. But I didn’t want to. In my past life, did anyone cry for me? No. With the soul of a twenty-something woman trapped in a child’s body, I was living a completely different life. *** **5.** Twelve years later. I was representing Hale Enterprises at a high-society charity gala when my phone buzzed. It was Eleanor. Her voice was shaking violently. “We found your sister. Come home right now!”

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Six months ago, my son Ethan, who was preparing for his high school graduation and SATs, was brutally bullied at school. They threw him off the school rooftop. His body was covered in horrific wounds. The school claimed it was a suicide. Before we could even get an independent autopsy, the local authorities rushed his body to be cremated, claiming it was standard procedure. I knew who those kids were. They all came from wealthy, powerful families, so the school district refused to hold them accountable. People online even said it was my son’s fault. They said he was book-smart but socially awkward, that he couldn’t handle pressure. They blamed him for his own death. I had been a trauma surgeon for twenty years. I saved countless lives. They used to call me an angel in a white coat. But from the moment I saw my son’s cold, bruised body, I decided to become a demon. One night, under the cover of darkness, I wore a black tactical jacket and slipped into Tyler Sterling’s house. He was one of the monsters who bullied my son. His father, Robert, was a high-ranking executive at a major local pharmaceutical company, always out late drinking with clients. Tyler was the star of the school basketball team. Tall, athletic, and popular with girls. He was the polar opposite of my nerdy son, Ethan. They should have lived in different worlds. But in the two months leading up to his death, Ethan was subjected to Tyler’s living hell. Someone told me Tyler had kicked Ethan to the ground and urinated on his head. And now, this monster was fast asleep in his warm, comfortable bed, while my son’s ashes were buried cold in the ground. I clenched my fists, my breathing growing heavy. My face must have looked terrifying. I pulled out a chloroform-soaked gauze and pressed it tightly over his nose and mouth. He struggled weakly for a second before slipping into a deep sleep. I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. I used IV tubing to tie his hands and feet securely to the bedpost. Then, I crept into the master bedroom. His mother, Cheryl, was lying in bed with a face mask on, scrolling through TikTok. She didn’t look up, probably thinking it was her husband coming home late. “Home so late? You might as well have slept at whatever whore’s house you were visiting,” she muttered. It was only when I pressed the chloroform rag over her face that she realized something was horribly wrong. She thrashed wildly, but she was no match for a grown man fueled by pure vengeance. She blacked out soon after. I tied her up as well and dragged both mother and son into the living room. Five minutes later, they both woke up. As a surgeon, my dosage of anesthetics is always precise. Cheryl opened her eyes, saw her son tied up across from her, and panicked. She thrashed against her restraints, but it was useless. When she looked up and saw my face, her eyes filled with absolute terror. We actually knew each other. We met back when she was still a pharmaceutical sales rep. Later, she married Robert Sterling, quit her job, and gave birth to Tyler. She had used her connection with me to skip the line at the hospital when Tyler was sick. Ethan was with me that day. I remember how he shrank back, looking terrified of Tyler. Back then, I never could have imagined that one teenager could do something so monstrous to another. Every time I recalled that day—recalling my son’s innocent, sweet face—rage would boil in my chest, tearing me apart. I pulled out a surgical hammer. I began tapping Tyler’s body, targeting very specific, painful areas. Even though I had only gotten a fleeting glance at Ethan’s body, every single bruise and scar was permanently burned into my memory. I was just returning the favor. Then, I delivered a heavy blow to Tyler’s throat. His airway collapsed instantly. Blood began leaking from the corner of his mouth as he suffocated. Cheryl watched her only son die right in front of her. I knew she wasn’t innocent. She knew exactly what her son was doing, but she chose to enable it. Since she raised a monster, I made her watch him die. Cheryl’s mouth was gagged, but I could read the curse in her eyes. She was probably cursing me to rot in hell. But for a father who had already lost his son, I was already living in hell. I didn’t torture Cheryl. I simply took a scalpel and slit her throat clean. Then, I sat on the sofa, turned off all the lights, and waited quietly for Robert to come home. At 2:00 AM, the heavy stench of alcohol preceded him. Robert was back. Drunk and slurring, he yelled: “Where the hell is everyone? I’m home! Someone get my slippers!” He fumbled for the light switch on the wall. The sudden glare forced his eyes shut for a second. When he opened them, he let out a blood-curdling shriek. He saw the bodies of Cheryl and Tyler. The shock sobered him instantly. He spun around to run, but I was faster. With one swift slice of my scalpel, I severed the tendons in his wrists. His hands went limp, blood soaking down his white shirt. “Bro, look,” he whimpered, shaking with fear. “If it’s money, take it all. Just don’t kill me. I have credit cards, cash. I’ll give you the PINs.” But the moment he saw my face, the words died in his throat. He knew exactly why I was here. Still, the desperation to live overcame his fear. He dropped to his knees, begging. “Please, man. Your boy is already gone. I’ll give you everything I have. I won’t call the cops. Just let me go.” I remembered seeing him at the hospital once. He was dressed in a sharp suit, arrogant and demanding. Tyler had beaten someone up, and Robert had brought the victim in, throwing cash around as if money could erase any crime. Like father, like son. Robert was responsible for at least half of Tyler’s sins. Seeing me step closer, he realized there was no mercy. He scrambled up and tried to run. But the blood loss had already drained his strength. Within three steps, I caught up to him. I plunged the scalpel straight into his heart. He slumped to the floor like a rag doll. I turned and walked out of the blood-splattered house.

I buried Ethan in our quiet hometown. We didn’t want the media and clout-chasing TikTokers to disturb him. My elderly, white-haired parents wept bitterly at his grave, lighting candles. My wife, Sarah, had fainted from crying so many times. But I kept my distance and didn’t show my face. I couldn’t drag them into my mess. When it first happened, Sarah slapped me hard. She screamed at me, asking why I hadn’t noticed Ethan’s pain, why I hadn’t fought for justice. I had even refused the school district’s offer to simply suspend the bullies. Because to those monsters, a suspension wasn’t a punishment. It was a shield. I would deliver their real punishment myself. I bowed to my son’s grave from afar. *Dad is going to get you justice.* There were four bullies in total—two boys, two girls. The next target was Brandon Miller. He was also on the basketball team and a straight-A student. His father, Richard Miller, was the School Board Superintendent. It was Richard who pulled the strings to bury Ethan’s case, preventing us from even getting an independent autopsy. News of the Sterling family’s slaughter had leaked, but the media was being heavily censored. A massacre like that would throw the entire city into a panic. Honestly, I was confident the police wouldn’t find me anytime soon. As a surgeon, I knew how to maintain a sterile environment. I knew exactly how to leave no trace. But I was running out of time. I couldn’t stand the thought of those monsters breathing for another day. And they were starting to feel the heat, too. That evening, over dinner, Richard warned his family: “Be careful when you go out. Actually, don’t go out at all. Brandon, you’re staying home from school for a few days.” Brandon’s mother, Vicky, protested: “I can stay home, but what about our son? He can’t miss school. He’ll fall behind.” Brandon chimed in: “Yeah, Dad. We have the championship game coming up.” Richard slammed his fork down. “Are you both brainless? Do you have any idea that the Sterlings were slaughtered?” “It was probably Marcus Vance—Ethan’s father. If he could kill Tyler’s entire family, do you think he’ll spare you?” But Brandon didn’t look scared at all. He smirked. “Who? That wimp’s dad? We beat his son to a pulp and he couldn’t do a thing. If his dad comes, I’ll handle him too.” “Dad, just hire some security. Get those guys who helped us take the body last time.” Before he could finish, Richard slapped him across the face. “How did I raise such a stupid son? Do you have any idea who those people are? Having them do dirty work comes with a steep price.” Vicky shoved Richard angrily. “If you don’t care about our boy, I do! He’s just a kid. So what if he made a mistake?” Richard was about to yell back: “Murder isn’t a mistake—” But suddenly, a heavy wave of drowsiness hit him. He looked over and saw his wife and son already slumping over, their eyes half-closed. He realized what was happening, but it was too late. He drifted into darkness. When they woke up, they were tied up back-to-back in the master bedroom. The whole family, nice and neat. Thanks to modern medicine, it was easy to get my hands on tasteless, odorless sedatives to slip into their dinner. Richard was the first to fully wake up. When he saw me, panic flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked it. Typical politician. He spoke to me in a calm, soothing voice: “Marcus, please. Don’t make things worse. I promise you, I will get you justice for Ethan. Just trust me.” I had heard him give the exact same high-and-mighty speeches on TV. Back then, people clapped and cheered. But his audience tonight wasn’t buying it. Vicky spat, “Richard! If he touches our son, I’m divorcing you!” Richard snapped, “Are you blind? Look at the situation! Shut up!” But right after he yelled at his wife, his idiot son opened his mouth. “Marcus, right? You better hope I don’t get loose. If I do, I’ll beat you just like I beat your useless son.” “Who did he think he was? Trying to get better SAT scores than me? Trying to steal my girl?” Hearing his words, a sharp pain pierced my heart. Ethan had once told me that a girl at school liked him. But he had ignored her to focus on his studies. Brandon kept mouthing off, calling Ethan a weak coward. Furious, I took out my surgical hammer and smashed it directly into his groin. He instantly doubled over as much as the ropes allowed, screaming in agony, tears and snot streaming down his face. Vicky screamed, “You animal! Don’t touch my baby!” But when *my* baby was being tortured, who was there to protect him? When *her* baby was destroying lives, who was there to stop him? I smashed the hammer into other parts of Brandon’s body. Every single strike mapped to a bruise I had seen on Ethan. I was going to make him feel ten times, a hundred times the pain. Finally, Brandon started begging for mercy. But it was too late. I knew Ethan must have begged him too, and Brandon hadn’t stopped. So, I wouldn’t stop either. Then, Vicky sealed their fate. She shrieked at Richard: “He’s castrating your son and you’re just sitting there? Tell this psycho that his son is already dead, but he still has a wife! He still has parents! Doesn’t he care about what happens to them?” Richard’s face drained of color. He looked horrified. He knew Vicky had just crossed the ultimate line. The next second, I slipped the hammer away, pulled a scalpel from my pocket, and sliced it across Vicky’s throat. She looked at me in shock, trying to speak, but no sound came out. A fountain of dark blood sprayed from her neck. Blood splattered all over Brandon’s face. He lost his mind, sobbing and begging, kneeling as much as his ropes allowed. “Mr. Vance, I’m sorry! Please, we were classmates! I’ll apologize to Ethan. I’ll buy him flowers, I’ll do anything!” Hearing him mention Ethan only made me angrier. “You knew you were classmates. What kind of sick hatred drove you to do that to him?” “Bullying is fun, right? Now that you’re the victim, do you regret it even a little bit?” Brandon opened his mouth to say “I—”, but I drove the scalpel straight into his temple. His eyes bulged, shocked by how fast death had claimed him. Richard watched his wife and son die right before his eyes. In an instant, he seemed to age twenty years, his shoulders slumping in total defeat. In that moment, I saw a reflection of myself in him. The absolute, gut-wrenching despair of having nothing left. For a brief second, I wondered if I should spare him. Then Richard spoke: “Marcus… you lost your son. Now I’ve lost mine. And my wife. Isn’t that enough?” “Just pretend I’m dead too. I’ll spend the rest of my life doing charity, helping schools… please.” Hearing this, I put my weapons away and stood up. He let out a long sigh of relief, slumping against the floor, relaxing his guard. But then, I slammed the surgical hammer straight down into the crown of his skull. He was the one who ordered Ethan’s body to be cremated. He denied me the chance to even look at my boy one last time. He had essentially murdered Ethan a second time. How could I ever let him live? I walked out of Richard’s house and spent the night hiding under a bridge. A homeless man walked under the bridge later that night. I don’t know if he saw the look of a killer in my eyes, but he took one glance at me and immediately hurried away. The next morning, I headed to the old town district. The next target was a girl named Chloe Bennett. Ethan used to talk about her. He said she was beautiful, bright, and sweet. Yet, she was deeply involved in the bullying that killed him. I wanted to know exactly what role she played in his death.

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I was four months pregnant when my husband started dating a college girl behind my back. And the matchmaker was none other than my own mother-in-law, Brenda. As it turned out, they had a backup plan: whichever woman gave birth to a boy first would get to stay. Later, when they found out I was actually a billionaire heiress, they literally got on their knees and begged for my forgiveness. I didn’t budge. Scum like them deserve to rot in hell. My husband, Ethan, hadn’t come home for a week. Believing that marriage should be built on trust, I didn’t ask too many questions beyond checking in on him. But a woman’s intuition told me something was seriously off. Just as I was starting to suspect he was cheating and getting ready to confront him, he suddenly walked through the front door. He even brought me a bouquet of flowers. I was so thrilled that I practically spun in circles, hugging him tightly and silently scolding myself for overthinking. He was always so good to me. How could he ever do anything to betray me? But later that night, while sorting the laundry, I found a makeup wipe stained with bright red lipstick in his jacket pocket. It made my previous relief look utterly pathetic. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I slammed the dry wipe right onto Ethan’s face and demanded, “What is this? Ethan, are you seeing someone else?!” He froze for a second. Then, his forehead creased, and he snapped impatiently, “What is wrong with you, Chloe? Can you stop being so paranoid all the time?!” His reaction only fueled my anger, but I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Parody? Then explain to me why you’ve been coming home so late every single night. What have you been doing?” He ignored me entirely, rolled over in bed, turned his back to me, and closed his eyes. I kept talking, trying to get a straight answer out of him, but he didn’t utter a single word. Only when I finally stopped talking and the room fell dead silent did he speak up, his voice ice-cold. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m buried in work!” “I have to work tomorrow, so stop keeping me up with this nonsense.” “If I wasn’t working my ass off to bring home the bacon, how do you think we’d pay our bills? Can you grow up for once?” His words choked back everything else I wanted to say. I stared at his back, my heart aching. A wave of intense humiliation and sorrow washed over me, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. Busy with work? What a joke. The tech giant Ethan worked for was owned by my family. I knew his exact workload better than anyone. I had only kept my family’s wealth a secret because I didn’t want him to feel pressured marrying into a rich family. And yet, he was using this job as a cheap excuse to lie to my face.

The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt, and my quiet sobbing turned into loud cries. Ethan noticed my distress and let out a heavy, irritated sigh. He shifted under the covers, making a move to turn around. To be honest, in that split second, I imagined a few different scenarios. I thought he might turn around, wrap his arms around me like he used to, and whisper, “I was actually planning a surprise for you, babe. I didn’t want to ruin it.” Or maybe he would keep lying, telling me how exhausting his job was, playing the victim to guilt-trip me into submission again. Or maybe he would tell me he was facing some serious trouble at work and had to stay late to fix it. … “Can you shut the fuck up? Stop being such a drama queen!” Ethan suddenly bolted upright, snatched his pillow, threw it violently onto the floor, and screamed at me. I froze in pure shock. I had imagined so many reactions, but never this. I stared at him in utter disbelief, unable to comprehend how the sweet, attentive man I married had turned into this monster. He glared at me with pure hatred, as if I were his worst enemy. Hearing the commotion from the guest room next door, my mother-in-law, Brenda, burst in. “What’s going on? What’s wrong, my sweet boy?” Seeing Ethan so angry, Brenda panicked. She immediately rushed over, pulled him into her arms to soothe him, and shot me a venomous look. “What kind of wife are you?! How dare you upset my son like this!” “Don’t think you can boss us around in this house just because you managed to get pregnant!” I finally snapped out of my daze. I shook my head frantically, trying to explain, but my sobbing was so violent that I couldn’t form proper words. “She’s literally psycho,” Ethan muttered under his breath, looking at my tear-stained, messy face with sheer disgust. He threw on his clothes and slammed the door as he stormed out. On his way out, he grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the table, threw it onto the floor, and crushed it to pieces under his boot. Brenda turned back to me and pointed a finger in my face. “Keep crying in the middle of the night and drive your husband away, you useless brat!” “You better hope that thing in your belly is a boy. If you give birth to some useless girl, you can pack your bags and get the hell out of this family!” With that, she stomped out, and another loud door slam echoed through the house.

I curled up under the blanket alone, not sleeping a wink the entire night. Ethan didn’t come back. I called him more than a dozen times, but it went straight to voicemail every time. As the hours dragged on, my anger slowly faded into worry. Maybe… maybe the lipstick stain was just an accident? What if he was driving while angry and got into a car crash? What if he got into a fight with someone? What if he was hurt? … Endless guilt flooded my mind, and I began to wonder if I had indeed been too sensitive. First thing in the morning, I went downstairs, bought groceries, and cooked a massive, delicious breakfast, planning to apologize to Ethan the moment he walked through the door. But once the table was set and I finally dialed his number, a woman’s voice answered the phone. “Who is this? Ethan forgot his phone here when he left earlier.” “I’ll have him call you back when he gets back.” The girl’s voice was sweet and youthful. I stood frozen in place as if struck by lightning. After a long pause, I asked with a trembling voice, “What… what is your relationship with Ethan?” The girl paused for a second, then let out a soft, amused giggle. “Aren’t you on his Snapchat? He posted photos of us on his stories. I’m his girlfriend.” Girlfriend… What did that mean? Ethan was actually cheating on me? I forced myself to stay calm, burying the storm of emotions raging inside me, and replied after a moment of silence, “Sorry, I dialed the wrong number.” Then, I hung up. I had spent the entire night worrying about his safety, while he was out having the time of his life with another woman? He had even publicly posted photos of his mistress on Snapchat? But as far as I knew, Ethan never posted anything on social media. Whenever we went on trips and took cute couple photos, he always refused to post them, claiming it was too much of a hassle. I opened Snapchat and checked his profile. Indeed, his public stories were completely empty. Had he blocked me from seeing his posts? Just then, Brenda pushed open her bedroom door. Seeing my bloodshot eyes, she rolled her eyes in disgust. “Look at that pathetic face. You look like a curse!” “No wonder you can’t keep your man!” I took a deep breath, ignored her, walked back into my bedroom, and slammed the door. From outside, Brenda’s muffled insults continued. “Getting pregnant has only given you a nasty attitude. What a classless, uneducated small-town brat.” Brenda had always treated me like garbage. But in the past, Ethan would always tell me that his mother just had a sharp tongue but a good heart, and asked me to bear with it. So I did, over and over again. But my patience only made Brenda bolder and her insults meaner. Before, whenever I cried from Brenda’s abuse, Ethan would hold me tight, stroke my hair, and gently comfort me. But the moment I got pregnant, everything changed. Not only did he stop comforting me, but he also started calling me dramatic and high-maintenance. “Every daughter-in-law gets scolded by her mother-in-law. She’s in her fifties, can’t you just let her have her way?” “You’re about to be a mother yourself. Stop being so petty!”

I sat on the bed for a long time. I knew I couldn’t just rely on a single phone call to accuse him of cheating. I needed to wait for Ethan to come home and ask him face-to-face. What if there really was a misunderstanding? With those thoughts spinning in my head, I eventually drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, it was already evening. My stomach was screaming in pain from hunger. Just as I was about to go to the kitchen to find something to eat, I heard voices coming from Brenda’s bedroom. “Mom, Chloe called me today, and Hailey picked up the phone.” “Do you think she knows about me and Hailey?” It was Ethan’s voice! I quieted my footsteps, walked over to Brenda’s door, and peeked through the crack. I pulled out my phone and quietly tapped the voice memo app to record. Brenda’s tone was filled with utter contempt. “What are you scared of? Even if she knows, what can she do? She doesn’t have any proof!” “Besides, she’s just a penniless girl from a dead-end town with no family backing here. She even quit her job because of the pregnancy.” “She won’t dare make a scene. If she leaves you, she won’t even be able to pay rent!” “By the way, how are things going with Hailey? That girl has wide hips, she’s definitely built to give us a grandson.” Hearing Brenda’s reassurance, Ethan relaxed, his voice turning light and casual. “I have to thank you for setting us up, Mom. Hailey’s body is amazing. Chloe used to be hot, but now that she’s pregnant, she just grosses me out.” Brenda let out a sly chuckle and nudged Ethan. “So, last night…” Brenda trailed off, looking at her son with a knowing smirk. Ethan grinned and nodded. “It was her first time, so she insisted on a condom. Annoying as hell.” Then, a greasy, repulsive grin spread across his face. “But I poked a few holes in it when she wasn’t looking. There’s a high chance she’s already pregnant.” Brenda patted Ethan’s shoulder and laughed. “That’s my smart boy!” “We’ll see which one of them gives us a boy first, and we’ll keep that one!” Ethan nodded in agreement. “Whatever you say, Mom! Whichever one gives birth to a useless girl gets kicked to the curb!” “If they both have boys, we’ll keep Hailey. She’s younger and tighter anyway.” With that, Brenda pulled Ethan into a tight hug. Ethan buried his face in his mother’s chest, snuggling against her like a toddler, and murmured, “Chloe is asleep. Mom, can I sleep in your room tonight?” “Since I married Chloe a year ago, I haven’t slept with you once. I miss my mommy!”

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After three years of secret marriage with Julian Ryder, he told me he would give me a surprise at his new company’s launch party. I thought he was finally going to announce me as his wife to the world, but instead, he took his first love’s hand. With tears in my eyes, I demanded answers, only to receive his ruthless mockery: “It’s been three years, Evie. I’ve been sick of your face for a long time.” A month later, holding his half-brother’s arm, I showed up at the Ryder family gala. The massive diamond ring on my ring finger blinded him with rage, while the handsome, younger brother beside me smirked contemptuously at him: “It’s been three years, Julian. Honestly, I’m tired of calling her my sister-in-law anyway.” 【1】 “The best surprise for my beloved.” Under Julian’s latest Snapchat story, our mutual friends were leaving comments like crazy. “No way, man! Keeping it a secret from Evie to pull off something this romantic?” “Are you finally going public? Congratulations!” The picture on his story showed a romantic sea of 9,999 red roses and a massive, custom-made diamond ring. It was in my favorite color—a rare, natural purple diamond. It was crystal clear. It must have been incredibly hard for him to find one of such high quality. Looking at the Snapchat story, I couldn’t help but smile. We had a huge fight last month. Julian hadn’t texted me for over two weeks, and he hadn’t even come home. I thought he was giving me the silent treatment because of our argument. But it turned out he was secretly preparing a surprise for me… Tomorrow was the press conference for the public listing of the Ryder Group’s new subsidiary. This was also Julian’s first major media interview since securing his position as the sole heir of the Ryder family. For Julian to prepare something so grand, was he planning to publicly reveal my status as Mrs. Ryder? After three years of secret marriage, my wait was finally paying off. I hugged my pillow, lying in bed, imagining Julian standing in the spotlight tomorrow, proudly announcing to the world: “She is my legal wife, Evelyn!” He would hold my hand and kiss my forehead gently. I couldn’t help but screenshot his Snapchat story to look at it again and again. He actually forgot to block me from seeing it. What an idiot. I wanted to text him to ruin his “little surprise,” but then I thought about how busy he must be at the office. Since he was being so sweet, I decided to forgive him a little early. I would buy a nice dress and wait for tomorrow’s surprise. The next day, I wore a stunning red evening gown and sat in the VIP section, watching the confident, handsome man on stage from afar. He looked sharp, and his voice was deep and steady, just like the day I first fell for him. “Today, I want to publicly announce someone very important to me.” “Without her, I wouldn’t be standing here today.” The spotlight followed him as he walked down the stage, coming right toward my row. My heart raced, and I shyly reached out my hand, waiting for him to take it. But he only gave me a cold, passing glance, walked right past me, and grabbed the hand of Seraphina Vance, the heiress of the Vance family. “Will you marry me, Sera?” He slipped that beautiful purple diamond ring onto Seraphina’s finger, his eyes filled with a deep tenderness I had never seen before. It was a perfect fit. The camera flashes from the media went wild. “It’s the Vance heiress! What a perfect high-society match!” “When is the wedding, you two?” Seraphina’s expression turned from shock to pure bliss, a beautiful blush creeping up her cheeks. “This is so sudden… I’m not even prepared…” The Ryder and Vance families were both elite powerhouses in New York, but there had never been any rumors of them dating. The reporters went crazy, instantly surrounding the two of them. In the chaotic crowd, someone stepped on my red gown, leaving a dirty footprint on the fabric. My hand remained frozen in the air. Under the bright camera lights, the sight of him and Seraphina looking so in love was so blinding that tears started rolling down my face. I stood there like a pathetic clown, while they were hailed as a match made in heaven. The surprise was never meant for me. The man I loved was abandoning me to marry someone else. 【2】 Because I loved him and didn’t want to ruin his reputation in front of the cameras, my confrontation was pathetic and quiet. I watched Julian laughing and talking with Seraphina backstage. I pulled out my phone with trembling fingers and sent him a message. “I am your wife. Why did you propose to her?” My hands were shaking so hard that the message was full of typos. From a distance, I saw him glance at his phone. His eyebrows knitted together for a second, then relaxed. My phone buzzed. His reply was short and ice-cold. “Get lost.” I waited with red eyes until all the guests had left, then followed Julian to the VIP parking lot. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” I refused to let it go, raising my voice as I ran after him. Seraphina had no idea about my secret existence. She looked at Julian, confused. “Julian, who is this crazy woman?” He whispered something sweet in Seraphina’s ear to reassure her, then walked over to me and threw a set of divorce papers right at my chest. A wave of despair washed over me. I grabbed his arm with tear-filled eyes, like a drowning person clutching at a straw. “It’s my fault for arguing with you. You’re just trying to make me jealous with another woman, right?” During our three years of marriage, there were occasionally other girls around him. But every time I got mad, he would always coax me back with sweet words. I assumed he was just furious because I had pushed him to go public with our marriage a few days ago. “Please don’t do this. I was wrong, okay? We don’t have to go public… As long as we’re together, nothing else matters.” He just looked down at me. The way I was begging him made me look like a stray dog in his eyes. “The Vance family can help my business expand. But you?” He let out a low laugh, his voice dripping with pure disdain. “Other than warming my bed, what value do you bring to my life?” My grip on his sleeve slowly slipped away. He brushed his sleeve in disgust, then leaned down to whisper the most brutal words directly into my ear: “It’s been three years, Evie. I’m sick of your face, and honestly, I’m done playing with you.” I watched his sports car roar away with Seraphina in the passenger seat. Overwhelmed by despair, I slid down against the concrete wall and collapsed onto the cold ground, gasping for air. Tears poured down, soaking the divorce papers in my hands. My heart ached so badly, as if it were being crushed by giant, invisible hands. He wasn’t always like this. He used to love me so much that he wouldn’t let anyone disrespect me. Now, he was using the most toxic words to cut all ties with me. He seemed to have completely forgotten that I was the one who saved his life. Years ago, Julian had lost his mother in a brutal family power struggle. Depressed and broken, he wanted to end his life. That day, on the busy highway bridge, I saw him standing alone on the edge, ready to jump. Risking a horrific car crash, I slammed on my brakes, ran over, and dragged him back from the edge of death. In my cheap, tiny apartment, a spark of hope returned to his eyes. Just like a cliché romance novel, the broken, suicidal boy fell deeply in love with his savior. On my birthday, he told me he wanted to take me somewhere special. When he placed our signed marriage certificates in front of me, I felt a rush of pure happiness. “This is my promise to you, Evie. I will never make the woman I love cry.” But the Ryder family was a snake pit. As an unloved eldest son, he had no maternal backing. He had to fight tooth and nail to become the heir. I understood his struggles. I knew the board members were watching his every move. He told me that having a wife with no elite background would ruin his chances of securing the inheritance. “Just wait a little longer, Evie.” He promised that once he took full control of the Ryder family, he would give me a grand wedding that everyone would envy. I loved his ambition and his drive so much. I truly believed I would spend the rest of my life with him. But I didn’t realize that ambition would eventually consume his heart. The marriage I cherished was nothing but a transactional stepping stone to him. My three years of devotion were nothing but a joke. 【3】 I don’t even remember how I dragged myself back to the apartment, or how I forced myself to sign those divorce papers. Julian was incredibly efficient. He had already ordered his assistants to pack my things and throw them out of the house. He was already moving Seraphina into the master bedroom that used to be mine. I sat in the living room like a ghost, listening to the muffled sounds of their laughter through the closed door. On the table in front of me sat a cold black credit card. Half an hour ago, he tried to buy off my three years of devotion with money. “There’s three million dollars on this card. Let’s end this cleanly.” “And don’t ever bother me again.” My parents died when I was young, and I had lived alone in New York for years. I thought marrying Julian meant I finally had a family. But my love was misplaced, and now I had no way to take it back. I wanted to call someone to talk to, but when I opened my phone, my entire contact list was filled with people associated with Julian. During these three years, to help him secure his position, I had accompanied him to countless business dinners. The irregular sleep schedule and constant drinking had made me look exhausted, much older than other girls my age. My stomach burned with a sharp, agonizing pain. The doorbell rang loudly. I struggled to stand up and opened the door. Standing there was Julian’s younger half-brother, Christian Ryder. Unlike Julian, Christian grew up surrounded by love. He was an artistic genius with grand dreams in the fine arts. With no interest in corporate greed, he never cared about the Ryder family inheritance, so Julian never saw him as a threat. I had only met Christian a few times, so I had no idea how he found my place. Through my blurry, drunken eyes, I could see the deep worry on his face. I grabbed his arm and started rambling like a crazy person. I talked about how Julian and I met, how happy we used to be, and how brutally he had abandoned me. “He promised me a real wedding! He’s a liar! A total bastard!” Terrified that I might hurt myself, Christian gently grabbed my flailing hands. Three years ago, he was just a high school kid. Now, he had grown into a handsome young man who stood a full head taller than me. His beautiful, expressive eyes weren’t cold like Julian’s. They were filled with a mix of longing and restraint, looking like a startled deer that had accidentally stumbled into my messy, broken life. “Evie, he’s not worth it.” I laughed and cried at the same time, waving my hand dismissively. “Christian, don’t call me that anymore. I don’t deserve to be anyone’s sister-in-law.” “Come on, have a drink with me!” My voice was forced, still holding onto the remnants of my love for Julian. Christian’s eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve wanted to stop calling you that for a long time anyway…” I only saw the worry on his face, failing to notice the deep passion swirling in his eyes. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I woke up and saw Christian lying naked next to me, that I realized how wild last night had been. Maybe it was because I hadn’t been drunk in so long, but I didn’t know I could be so reckless… I had just divorced my ex-husband, and now I was in bed with his younger brother. The young man’s chest was covered in light hickeys, and his muscular back had faint, healing scratch marks. His breathing was soft and even, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly. Oh my god. He just turned twenty-one, didn’t he? I tried to slide out of bed quietly to make my escape, but his hand shot out and gripped my wrist firmly. “Where are you going, Evie?” Christian flipped over, pinning me beneath him. His deep, raspy morning voice was incredibly sexy:

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