1 I have an ugly scar across my face. The older kids at the orphanage called me a monster. They tied me to an oak tree in the yard and smeared superglue directly into my scar. I didn’t dare to cry, because Mrs. Higgins, the matron, hated ugly kids who misbehaved. I wished upon every star, praying for the day my father would finally come and take me home. But when he finally did, there was already another little girl taking my place. My brother, Cole, blamed me for stealing her spot. He forced me to kneel on the floor on all fours, using my back as her personal footstool. If she so much as whispered that I was bullying her, my father wouldn’t hesitate to slap me across the face. “I should have left you to rot in that orphanage.” Later, when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and was actually sent back to the orphanage, my father came looking for me, choking back tears. “I’m so sorry, Riley. Please, let’s go home.” But Daddy, bad kids who nobody loves don’t have a home. … “Stay down! If you make Patrika fall, I swear I’ll make you regret it!” I was kneeling on the hardwood floor right next to Patrika’s luxurious princess bed. It was the only spot in the room without a plush rug. The hard wood dug painfully into my bony knees. Cole gently held Patrika’s hands as she stepped up onto my back. “Riley is too skinny. It hurts my feet to step on her…” she complained softly. I never had enough to eat at the orphanage. I was five years old, but I was smaller and more fragile than a typical three-year-old. Patrika was entirely different. She was fiercely protected and pampered by my father and Cole, her cheeks round and rosy. Just her weight pressing down on my spine made me wobble. My bones cracked under the pressure. It hurt. But it didn’t hurt as much as being beaten by the other kids back at the orphanage. They used to take sharp pocket knives and trace the jagged edges of my ugly scar. Then they would pour superglue into the fresh cuts. They would stuff a filthy, wet rag into my mouth so no one could hear my muffled screams. Back then, I used to tell myself: It’ll be okay once Riley has a real family. They’ll definitely protect me. But the more I thought about it now, the more my chest ached. It felt just like the superglue pulling at my skin. I accidentally swayed under Patrika’s weight. Cole immediately smacked the back of my head. “Watch it!” “You already killed Mom, are you trying to break Patrika’s legs now?” “Patrika isn’t like you. She’s delicate. If she gets a single scratch, Dad will walk out of a board meeting to check on her. Know your place!” I stuttered out a frantic apology. “I’m sorry. It’s Riley’s fault.” The very first day I came home. Cole told me that when I was just learning to crawl, I accidentally knocked over a lit candle. To save me, my mother was burned alive in the ensuing house fire. And I simply vanished. He had shoved me to the ground, pointing a furious finger right in my face. “You should be dead. What right do you have to kill Mom and then just waltz back into this house?” I sat frozen on the floor. The wounds the orphanage kids had dug into my face tore open again. Tears welled up in my eyes. But I forced them back. I couldn’t cry. Mrs. Higgins always said ugly monsters like me didn’t deserve to cry. Only children who were loved had the right to shed tears. Besides, I was the murderer who killed my own mother. So if it hurt this much, it meant Mommy was angry in heaven, punishing me for being a bad kid. The butler suddenly announced from the hallway: “Young Master, Miss Patrika, Mr. George is home.” Patrika picked up the edges of her frilly dress and squealed, running out of the room to greet him. “Daddy!” Cole followed closely behind, his voice full of exasperated affection. “Slow down, Patrika, don’t trip!” The butler watched me as I stiffly tried to push myself up off the floor. A deep look of disgust flashed across his eyes. “Mr. George hates tardiness. Move faster.” I finally got my feet under me. The blinding pain in my knees made it impossible to stand up straight. As I swayed, about to fall, I reached out to grab something to steady myself. But as my hand brushed toward the butler’s sleeve, he aggressively stepped back. He watched with cold, dead eyes as I crashed heavily onto the floor. “Miss Riley, I might be the hired help, but I still have standards for cleanliness.” I didn’t fully understand what his words meant. But the look in his eyes told me exactly what I needed to know. He hated me. He thought I was filthy. I forced a dry, raspy apology out of my throat. It was a survival reflex I learned at the orphanage. As long as I apologized, the beatings wouldn’t last as long. By the time I limped my way into the grand dining room. They were already halfway through their meal. My father glared at me, his voice freezing cold. “Riley George. Why are you incapable of being on time?” 2 The last time I was late, Cole and Patrika had locked me in the basement storage room. I wasn’t found until the maids heard me scratching at the door the following evening. I missed two dinners that time. The time before that, Cole had zipped me into a large suitcase. I nearly suffocated to death, so naturally, I missed dinner then, too. This time, my knees were bruised black and blue, swollen so badly that every step felt like walking on broken glass. I really tried my best to get here quickly. I didn’t want Daddy to be angry. And I really didn’t want to be thrown away and sent back to the orphanage. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Riley just…” Before I could finish, Cole cut me off sharply. “I don’t care what your excuse is. The George family eats dinner exactly on time. Do you understand?” I froze for a second. Cole didn’t want Daddy to know about the games he liked to play with me. I didn’t say another word and quietly climbed into my chair. The plates in front of me were piled high with expensive seafood. I had eaten a single shrimp once at the orphanage. Immediately after, my entire body broke out in angry, red hives. One of the teachers there told me I had a severe seafood allergy. She said if it got bad enough, I would go to heaven. Seeing that I hadn’t picked up my fork, Patrika’s eyes filled with tears. “Riley, are you refusing to eat because you hate me?” “I know… I know you feel like I stole your place… I can leave.” I didn’t mean that at all! I opened my mouth to explain, but my father’s icy words stabbed straight into my chest. “Riley. If you aren’t going to eat, get out of my sight!” He pulled Patrika onto his lap, comforting her while handing her a stack of brightly colored gift boxes I had never seen before. “This is your home, sweetheart. Nobody is making you leave.” “You are my daughter. Don’t cry.” His gentle, coaxing tone was exactly what I had always dreamed of hearing. But the girl in his arms wasn’t me. My heart felt like it was being pinched by a crab’s claws. Even breathing hurt. I clutched my chest. I silently mouthed: Daddy, I think my heart is allergic to you. I didn’t know how much time had passed. The basement door clicked open. The butler handed me a small, plain bowl of porridge. “Mr. George was worried you’d be hungry. He sent this down for you.” I took the bowl numbly, instinct taking over. “Thank you.” By the time the words left my mouth, the door was already locked again. Daddy really did care about me! The warmth of the bowl radiating into my palms made my chest feel full. I had never eaten a hot meal at the orphanage. The older kids always forced me to eat their cold, discarded scraps. Since coming home, I was always locked away during dinner. I was never allowed to eat breakfast or lunch with them during the day. I wolfed down the sweet, warm porridge as fast as I could. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I felt so happy. I was so incredibly happy… I scraped the bowl completely clean. My little stomach was perfectly round and full. But it didn’t take long. Angry red hives erupted across my arms and chest. My throat began to swell rapidly. Patrika stepped into the basement, a sweet smile on her face. “I was worried you’d still be hungry, so I asked the chef to mix some scallop broth into your porridge. Was it yummy, Riley?” I couldn’t stand up straight. I collapsed onto the concrete floor. “Patrika… Riley needs to go to the hospital…” My voice was barely a raspy squeak. Cole let out a cruel, mocking laugh from behind her. “Stop being so dramatic. You need a hospital because you ate a bowl of rice?” “Since you’re full now, get up and play with Patrika.” He tied two thick ropes to a rafter in the basement. He tied one rope around my ankles, hoisting me up until I was hanging upside down, and forced me to grip the other rope tightly with both hands. “Patrika wants to go on the swings. You better hold on tight. If you drop her, you’re dead!” The hives covering my body burned and itched violently. I wanted to beg them to stop, but my throat was swelling so fast I couldn’t pull air, let alone speak. All I could manage were pathetic, muffled whimpers. “Shut up! Stop making those annoying noises.” Cole lifted Patrika up and placed her sitting directly on my stomach. The sudden, crushing weight made my sweaty hands slip against the coarse rope. The next second, Cole pushed Patrika hard from behind. My body swung wildly into the air. My vision began to blur and go black in patches. The single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling pierced my eyes. I thought I saw my mother standing in the light. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be alive. You deserve this, Riley. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mommy. The tears I had held back for so long finally broke. Patrika’s joyful giggles echoed louder than my quiet sobs. With every single cheer that left her mouth. My body and my heart splintered a little more. If people go to heaven when they die. Then a bad kid like me would definitely be going to hell. 3 I lost track of time. The butler’s voice echoed down the stairs. “Mr. George is home.” I was already completely numb to the pain. The coarse rope had shredded the skin on my palms, leaving them slick with blood. But I didn’t dare let go. I was terrified that if Patrika fell, she would get hurt. When my father walked down the stairs. Patrika viciously dug her fingernails into the back of my hand. The sudden, blinding pain caused my fingers to reflexively pop open. She instantly tumbled to the floor, scraping her knee. “Patrika! Are you okay?!” Cole rushed forward in a panic, pulling her up. My father rushed past me, immediately kneeling down to inspect her microscopic scratch. I was still hanging upside down from the rafters. Watching this beautiful, loving family moment made my eyes sting with fresh tears. “What on earth happened here?” My father barked orders at the maids to bring the first-aid kit. While carefully disinfecting her scratch, he demanded answers. Patrika stayed quiet for a moment, before finally letting out a devastated sob, acting as if she couldn’t hold back the injustice any longer. “Daddy… Riley was bullying me.” “She intentionally dropped me on the hard floor. It hurts so much…” Since the day she arrived, she had been treated like a porcelain doll. She had never known a day of pain. The moment she cried, my father’s heart broke. He finally ordered the butler to cut me down. Before my feet were even firmly on the ground, a heavy hand struck me across the face. The force sent me violently crashing back onto the floor. I stared up at him, forcing air through my constricted throat. “Daddy… I hurt too…” “I… I have hives…” But I forgot. My face was already a mangled mess of ugly, raised scar tissue. The hives were completely invisible underneath the damage. My father’s expression darkened into something truly terrifying. “Not only are you a pathological liar, but you’re a vicious bully too?” “Riley, I should have let you rot in that orphanage.” So it was true. Daddy hated me too. Cole stuck his tongue out at me, mocking me. “Serves you right. Hurry up and get sent back to the trash where you belong!” They carried Patrika upstairs, leaving me alone in the dark. I slowly pushed myself off the floor. I noticed a crushed ring of wildflowers lying near the staircase. Next to it were a few dried leaves I had pressed into bookmarks. I had spent weeks at the orphanage secretly collecting them, saving them so I could give them to my new family as gifts when I finally came home. But someone had trampled them. I carefully picked up the crushed pieces. Staring at the empty staircase where they had disappeared, the tears wouldn’t stop falling. The single, fraying thread in my mind that commanded me to be a good girl finally snapped. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I scrambled up the stairs, chasing after them. “Daddy… Cole…” “Please don’t throw Riley away… Riley knows she was bad…” I screamed until my vocal cords bled. But my voice was entirely drowned out by the roar of the luxury SUV’s engine starting in the driveway. The car accelerated toward the front gates, and no matter how fast my little legs ran, I couldn’t catch them. Inside the car, the driver glanced at the rearview mirror. “Mr. George, Miss Riley is chasing the car…” My father looked in the mirror, then looked down at Patrika, who was still whimpering softly in his arms. His voice was like ice. “Ignore her.” Drip… The sky opened up, pouring heavy, freezing rain. I wiped my face with the back of my hand. When I looked down, my hand was smeared with bright red. I wiped my face again. Blood. It was all blood. I read in a picture book once that if you lose too much blood, you die. Mommy, this must be what bad kids get. I collapsed onto the wet pavement. The crushed flowers and leaves were washed away in the muddy puddles, completely destroyed. Just like my heart. When I woke up again. I heard my father talking to a doctor outside the hospital room door. “The little girl’s condition is catastrophic.” “The anaphylactic shock nearly killed her, and her body is covered in both old, healed fractures and fresh lacerations…” “But the most critical issue is the tumor growing in her brain. She likely only has a few months left to live.” My father’s voice was hoarse, trembling slightly. “Are you telling me… my daughter has terminal cancer?” So it was true. I really was going to die soon. I slid out of the hospital bed and quietly sneaked out the back stairwell. If Daddy wanted me to go back to the orphanage. Then I would go back. Before I left, I scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. Just like the day I was born, I disappeared without making a sound. When I showed up at the orphanage gates, Mrs. Higgins sneered. “Look who’s crawling back.” “Did your rich daddy finally figure out he didn’t want you?” I gripped the hem of my thin hospital gown, the rough fabric digging into my bloody palms. “No. Riley decided she didn’t want them anymore.” The older kids erupted into vicious, mocking laughter. “Who do you think you are?” “You got thrown away because you’re a hideous freak!” I didn’t even see who threw the first punch. Fists and slaps rained down on my face and body. I should have been completely used to this. So why did it hurt so much this time? It hurt so much I couldn’t stop crying. Riley doesn’t want to be thrown away. Riley doesn’t want to die. Riley isn’t a bad kid. My face was slick with fresh blood. Just as my knees gave out, I was caught in a pair of strong, unfamiliar arms. My father, his eyes bloodshot and blazing with rage, roared at Mrs. Higgins. “Is this how you take care of my daughter?!”

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The family trip to the Bahamas was supposed to be a dream vacation. Instead, it turned into a nightmare when I was brutally mugged on the private beach. I woke up paralyzed, my spine shattered and my internal organs severely damaged. My teenage kids cried until their voices went hoarse. They immediately chartered a medical evacuation flight to bring me back to the States, swearing to find the best surgical team money could buy. But as I drifted in the hazy space between consciousness and the heavy sedatives, I heard my daughter, Sophie, whispering to my son, Connor. “It actually worked out, Con. It’s better she’s paralyzed. This way she won’t fight the divorce, and Dad can finally give Audrey the life he promised her.” My son let out a heavy sigh. “Well, Mom always made things so hard for Audrey. Dad said he’d pay for Mom’s care for the rest of her life. We’ve done right by her.” The words hit me like a plunge into freezing water. The violent mugging wasn’t a random tragedy. It was a trap, hand-crafted by the two children I loved more than life itself, all for the sake of their father’s long-time obsession, Audrey. 1 “The patient’s spinal nerves are severely traumatized, and she has multiple organ lacerations. We need to operate immediately with our neurosurgical team, otherwise…” My husband, Wes, cut the doctor off flatly. “Let’s stick to conservative treatment for now.” The doctor looked deeply uncomfortable. “Sir, your wife’s condition is critical. The golden window for nerve repair is incredibly narrow. If we miss it, she might never walk again.” Connor chimed in, perfectly mirroring his father’s grave tone. “Dad, Mom is still so young. We can’t let her spend her whole life in a wheelchair.” “That is exactly where she needs to stay.” Wes’s voice dropped to a vicious whisper. “Audrey has waited for me for twenty years in the shadows. I am not letting her suffer anymore. Only when your mother is permanently out of the picture can I bring Audrey home where she belongs.” He cleared his throat, raising his voice for the medical staff outside. “Just keep her stable with the best pain meds you have!” Lying on that sterile hospital bed, I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted copper. Tears slid silently down my temples into my hairline. The man who had stood at an altar and promised me forever was carving my heart out with a rusty blade. Everything suddenly made sick, twisted sense. His sudden burst of extreme affection over the last few months wasn’t him turning over a new leaf. He was just keeping me docile, clearing the final hurdles so he could replace me with the woman he actually wanted. And my own flesh and blood, the kids I would have taken a bullet for, were loyal only to a homewrecker. My three most trusted family members had formed a firing squad, and I was the target. The agony in my chest was so suffocating I gasped, triggering a violent coughing fit that felt like broken glass in my lungs. Wes burst through the door instantly. His face was a masterpiece of frantic concern. He wiped away my tears, his voice dripping with honey. “Victoria, sweetheart, are you in pain? Don’t be scared, I’m right here with you.” He stroked my hair with the exact same tenderness he used back when we first fell in love. Wes always deserved an Oscar for playing the devoted husband. Sophie sprinted out to the hallway, her voice frantic. “Nurse! Get my mom the strongest painkillers you have! She cannot suffer like this!” The sheer panic on their faces was flawless. Not a single crack in the facade. They were using this perfect, sickening performance to keep me locked in a cage of lies while they bled me dry. My heart cramped, and my grip on reality began to slip. The doctor rushed in, checking my vitals with practiced efficiency. Wes leaned down, his breath warm against my ear. “Victoria, the trauma is just too severe. I don’t trust these local surgeons. I’ve already pulled strings to fly in a top-tier team from Europe. We’ll wait for them to do the surgery, okay? It’s the safest route.” “I promise you, I will make sure you walk again.” A single, scalding tear escaped my eye. I couldn’t hold back the raspy, broken whisper. “Wes… will I really… stand up again?” His body went rigid for a fraction of a second. His eyes darted away, avoiding my gaze entirely. A moment later, he let out a heavy, theatrical sigh. “Victoria, when have I ever lied to you?” The physical numbness spreading through my limbs was nothing compared to the absolute zero of my dying heart. What else could I do? I closed my eyes, feigning exhaustion. “Okay. Whatever you say.” A relieved smile washed over his face. “That’s my good girl…” But before the words fully left his mouth, the doctor pulled back my hospital gown to inspect the gruesome wounds along my spine. Wes physically recoiled, color draining from his face. “How did she get butchered like this?” 2 The thugs had clearly treated my pain as a sport. They used jagged rocks and steel pipes, leaving a mosaic of bruised, broken flesh across my body. There was barely an inch of unbroken skin on my back. Connor turned his head away, faking nausea. Even the seasoned doctor hissed through his teeth. “Whoever did this had a serious vendetta. Ma’am, grit your teeth. The antiseptic is going to burn…” I shook my head weakly. “It’s fine.” Because the hollow cavity where my heart used to be had already forgotten how to feel pain. While the nurse dressed my lacerations, the muted voices of my kids drifted in from the corridor. “Are we really going to force her to sign over all her corporate shares now?” Sophie asked, her voice tight. “Look at her.” Connor was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his tone was dead and clinical. “We have to. The corporation is an empire Dad and Mom built together. We can’t let her hog all the control. Audrey has waited long enough, she deserves a proper title and a piece of the pie.” Tears blurred the harsh fluorescent lights above me. The nurse froze, her hands hovering. “Did I hurt you, sweetie?” I shook my head. I genuinely couldn’t tell if the raw flesh on my back hurt more than the gaping hole in my soul. The people who were supposed to be my anchor were not only perfectly fine with paralyzing me, but they were also actively plotting to steal the empire I had bled for. Were we a family, or were we mortal enemies locked in a cage? Within the hour, my personal assistant’s number lit up my phone repeatedly. When I finally managed to answer, her panicked voice filled my ear. Rumors were spreading like wildfire through the executive board that the physical trauma had triggered a complete psychotic break. Along with the texts came supposed “evidence” photos of me thrashing around in the hospital bed, looking absolutely unhinged. [If Victoria stays CEO in this state, the company is going straight into the ground!] [I always heard she was mentally fragile under pressure. Guess it’s true.] [Wes has to step up and take over the board right now. For the sake of the shareholders!] Every single message was a dagger twisting in my gut. My whole body seized in a violent tremor. Sophie rushed into the room, snatching the phone from my weak grip with a look of profound pity. “Mom, stop looking at that garbage. It’s just internet trolls.” Wes was already on his own phone, barking orders with righteous fury. “Find out who leaked this! I want heads rolling by morning!” Connor stood by my bed, his face a portrait of righteous guilt. “I’ve already got the PR team working on crisis management. Don’t worry, Mom. As long as we’re here, nobody is going to touch you.” Their synchronized routine was a masterclass in manipulation. Not a single missed cue. It made me want to vomit. Wes crouched down so we were eye to eye, his gaze intensely genuine. “Victoria, no matter what storms come our way, you will always be the love of my life.” Sophie nodded fiercely. “We love you so much, Mom!” The corporate PR fire was quickly put out online. But the poison had already seeped into the boardroom. My reputation as the ruthless, untouchable corporate queen was in ashes. Even if my body miraculously healed, they had ensured I could never reclaim my throne. Let alone walk back into the sunlight. The lead physician returned with my final scan results, his expression grim. “The spinal damage is extensive and likely irreversible. We’re seeing multi-organ stress, and the nervous system is…” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “The most pressing issue is a subdural hematoma pressing against her cerebral cortex. If the bleeding doesn’t stop, she could face permanent cognitive impairment.” Wes looked like he had been struck by lightning. “Cognitive impairment? You mean brain damage?” Sophie’s eyes welled with perfectly timed tears. “No… how could this happen?” They were thorough. They had orchestrated the perfect hit to shatter me both physically and mentally. That pristine, white sand beach was going to be the cage I rotted in forever. “Doctor, I don’t care what it costs,” Wes demanded, his voice thick with emotion. “You do whatever it takes to fix my wife!” “We will do everything medically possible,” the doctor promised. Wes, a man who built his career on stoic ruthlessness, openly broke down in tears beside my bed. “Stay with me, Victoria. I am never giving up on you!” I didn’t believe a single syllable. Once the room finally emptied out, I dragged my heavy, unresponsive hand toward the hidden panic button taped under the mattress rail. “This is Victoria. Initiate protocol Omega. Now.” Thirty minutes later, Wes rushed back in, his voice cracking. “Victoria, you’re awake? God, I was losing my mind, I thought we lost you…” He buried his face in my neck, practically suffocating me with his embrace. “I am not letting anything else happen to you!” As he pulled away, he shot Sophie a very specific, sharp look. She instantly whipped out her phone, gasping in manufactured delight. “Mom! That elite surgical team I called? They just boarded a private jet from London. They said there is absolute hope for your case! We’re getting you into surgery the second they land!” I stared at their lying faces, my own expression entirely hollow. They were only acting proactive now because they realized a brain-damaged wife would be useless to them. I needed to be somewhat lucid to legally sign over my assets to Audrey. I didn’t need their cheap, calculated mercy. 3 “Wes, just let it go.” He gripped the bed rails, his eyes wide. “Victoria, what are you talking about? This surgery is your only shot. If we don’t do this, you’re looking at a lifetime of paralysis and dementia.” I slowly shook my head. I was entirely past the point of caring. He opened his mouth to argue, but Connor pushed the door open, his face practically glowing. “Dad, Audrey is here.” Wes couldn’t suppress the flash of raw joy in his eyes. “Victoria, Audrey came to see you. Let me help you sit up.” He didn’t care that moving me sent blinding pain shooting up my spine. He cranked the bed up roughly, forcing me upright. My stomach churned with cold disgust. Audrey. The precious, untouchable ghost who had haunted my marriage for two decades. Wes had hidden her brilliantly. I only discovered her existence a few months ago when I intercepted a private email server. In their twisted little narrative, Audrey was a fragile, kind-hearted saint. Why would a saint come to visit the woman she was actively replacing? “Victoria, my god, are you okay? Wes and the kids have been absolute wrecks. I just had to come check on you.” Audrey floated into the room, a picture of delicate, helpless concern. My eyes immediately dropped to the potted plant in her hands. A sprawling, heavily thorned cactus. The universally understood symbol for isolation. For being untouchable and alone. Catching my stare, Audrey offered a sheepish, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Victoria. I rushed over so fast, this was the only thing the hospital florist had left. People say cacti ward off bad energy. I hope you don’t mind.” She turned her doe eyes toward my husband. “Actually… Wes, could I grab a minute alone with Victoria?” She played the sweet, non-threatening angel flawlessly. Wes, naturally, melted. “Of course. Try to keep her spirits up.” The literal second the door clicked shut behind them, Audrey’s fragile mask vaporized. She stood over my bed, her eyes sweeping over my broken body with naked, euphoric triumph. “Who would have thought the great, terrifying CEO Victoria would end up a pathetic piece of meat strapped to a bed.” I met her gaze, my voice like crushed ice. “At least I’m not a cheap mistress spending her best years rotting in the shadows.” Her face twitched, a flash of ugly rage breaking through. “Call me whatever you want! I’m the one Wes actually loves!” “If he loved you that much, you wouldn’t have spent twenty years being my dirty little secret.” Audrey’s features contorted before settling into a cruel, jagged smirk. “You really don’t get it, do you, Victoria? Wes signed off on the kids’ little ‘accident’ plan. They were the ones who recorded your psychotic hospital freak-out and leaked it to your board.” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a venomous whisper. “And while those men were having their fun breaking your bones on that beach, while you were screaming into your phone begging your family for help? They were taking a lovely evening stroll with me.” “To them, Victoria, you are worth less than the dirt on my shoes.” Even though I had pieced it together, hearing the sheer brutality of it spoken aloud made my chest cave in. Audrey’s eyes glittered with malice. “If I were you, I’d just pull the plug. Do yourself a favor and hand over the title of ‘wife’ and the company shares peacefully…” She crossed her arms, waiting for me to shatter. To scream and cry. But my heart had already been reduced to ash. You can’t kill something that’s already dead. “You want it all? Take it. You can have the trash I’m done with.” Audrey let out a high, grating laugh. “Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. The board has already restructured. Wes has absolute controlling interest now. And you… you get to be a crippled vegetable for the rest of your miserable life.” “But honestly… that’s not enough for me. I want Wes and the kids to actively despise you.” Before I could process her words, she took two steps backward and violently slammed her own forehead into the sharp metal corner of my medical cart. Blood instantly poured down her face. As she collapsed to the floor, she hissed one final thing at me. “By the way, Wes only wanted you a little banged up. I’m the one who paid the thugs extra to make sure you wished you were dead.” I stared down at her, every ounce of sorrow vaporizing, leaving behind nothing but cold, absolute absolute malice. A second later, Audrey let out a bloodcurdling, theatrical scream that echoed down the hallway. Wes smashed the door open, shoving a massive heart monitor out of the way to dive onto the floor next to her. “Audrey! Oh my god, what happened?!” Connor and Sophie sprinted in right behind him, instantly screaming for my doctors to come save Audrey. Their entire universe revolved around the woman bleeding on the floor. Not a single one of them noticed that Wes had violently shoved the heavy heart monitor directly onto my broken arm, reopening my surgical stitches. Blood was soaking through my sheets. Audrey clutched her forehead, sobbing hysterically. “Don’t be mad at Victoria! It was my fault, I said the wrong thing and triggered her! Victoria, I’m so sorry, please don’t hurt yourself anymore…” Wes’s face morphed into a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred. He glared at me like I was a monster. “Audrey came here out of the goodness of her heart to comfort you, and you actually assault her?! You ungrateful bitch!” Connor looked at me with profound disgust. “You really have gone insane, Mom. You deserve exactly what you got. If Audrey needs stitches, I swear to God I will never forgive you.” They scooped her off the floor and rushed out of the room, leaving a trail of her blood behind. They didn’t look back once. Good. Let this be the end. The next time we cross paths, it will be a bloodbath. Wes dragged Audrey through every scan the hospital offered, only remembering I existed when the doctors confirmed she just had a superficial cut that wouldn’t even scar. I heard him tell Sophie in the hallway, “Go buy your mother some of that overpriced organic soup she likes. I was a little harsh earlier, she’s probably throwing a pity party.” Ten minutes later, Wes’s phone rang. It was Sophie. “Dad! Mom is gone! She left a letter from a massive corporate law firm on the bed! And Dad… our stock is tanking. A shell corporation just launched a massive hostile takeover of our entire firm!”

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Tallie stalked my Instagram grid for four entire years. She was absolutely convinced I was a billionaire heiress living in secret. Right before graduation, she managed to get her hands on a bizarre, supernatural artifact. She secretly fed both of our names into this so-called “Wealth Swap System” and forcibly traded our bank accounts. She stared at me with pure triumph. Her tone dripped with arrogant entitlement. “Don’t blame me for being ruthless, sweetie. You’re the one constantly flexing those penthouses and designer bags online. A real rich girl like you won’t even miss this pocket change, right?” Right at that moment, my phone screen lit up with a notification. It was a $0.50 refund receipt from a cheap discount shopping app. I stared at that tiny number, completely frozen. I was just a broke college student faking a lavish lifestyle online! 1 Tallie slammed the glowing parchment onto my desk. Our names were scrawled across the vintage leather in bold ink. A bizarre, blood-red light pulsed over the letters. She loudly announced that the system was permanently bound. “Avery, starting right now, your billions belong entirely to me!” Every single asset to my name was currently transferring to hers. My mind went completely blank. I lunged forward to snatch the glowing parchment. Tallie dodged with ease and held the scroll high above her head. A mechanical, icy voice echoed out of thin air right inside our dorm room. “Wealth swap complete. The process is irreversible. Binding permanently active.” I frantically pulled out my phone and tapped my banking app. The $0.50 I had saved up to split a bulk order of toilet paper was completely gone. The screen displayed a massive, mocking zero. Tallie was practically drooling over the progress bar on her own phone screen. She erupted into hysterical laughter. “Yes! It’s rolling in! I can literally smell the money!” I looked up at her crazed expression and desperately tried to explain. “Tallie, you are out of your mind! I don’t have any money!” “Those limited-edition Birkin bags on my feed were rented with a bunch of other girls online!” “You just inherited a massive disaster!” Tallie smacked the desk, violently cutting off my warnings. “Keep acting! Keep playing the victim!” She quickly pulled up a screenshot I posted last night, showing a location tag at a Park Avenue penthouse. She shoved her phone screen so close it almost hit my nose. “You’re worth billions. You post skyline views from luxury real estate every single day!” “But in real life, you’re a cheapskate who steals my shampoo! You capitalists are all the same. The richer you are, the stingier you get!” Her screeching drew a crowd. Students from down the hall gathered outside our door to watch the drama unfold. Tallie spun around and proudly announced it to the entire floor. “Listen up, everyone! Avery just got stripped of all her family wealth by a magic system!” “She is a total, pathetic beggar now!” Instead of calling campus security, the crowd started pointing fingers and laughing at me. “I always hated her guts. Walking around with that fake humble attitude while carrying a Hermès bag.” “Exactly. I asked her for a loan once and she totally ignored me. Rich and greedy.” “Karma finally got her. Serves her right!” They fed off each other’s toxic energy, unleashing years of petty jealousy right at my face. I pulled out my phone and opened my messages, frantically trying to find the chat logs from my discount rental group. Tallie lunged forward and snatched the phone right out of my hand. She raised her arm high and smashed my phone directly onto the concrete floor. The screen shattered into a spiderweb of glass. Pieces of plastic scattered everywhere. “Do you honestly think faking some text messages will fool me, Avery?” “You’re just trying to fabricate evidence of being poor to stall for time until your rich family saves you, right?” “Well, it’s not going to work!” Tristan, the reigning frat-boy heartthrob of our department, pushed his way through the crowd. He usually spent his weekends trailing after me like a lost puppy. Now, he walked straight over and stood shoulder to shoulder with Tallie. He shoved me hard. I fell backward onto the floor. My palms scraped against the rough concrete, oozing warm blood. Tristan turned to Tallie with the most sickening, flattering smile I had ever seen. Then he pointed a finger down at me and started screaming. “Avery, I always saw right through your disgusting, elitist facade!” “You used to look at the rest of us like we were trash.” “Look who’s the actual trash now!” Tallie soaked up his loyalty with a wicked grin, laughing until she was out of breath. 2 Tallie immediately whipped out her credit card. The system required twenty-four hours to fully settle the swapped assets, so she decided to run up her own credit limit in the meantime. “Once my billions hit the account tomorrow, I’ll just buy the entire bank!” She made a call and ordered the most expensive omakase sushi delivery for the entire dorm floor. She purposefully left me out. Less than half an hour later, the delivery arrived. The mouthwatering scent of premium sashimi and seared Wagyu beef filled the stuffy room. The other girls swarmed Tallie, kissing the ground she walked on. Tallie picked up the most expensive slice of A5 Wagyu with her chopsticks. Holding eye contact with me, she casually dropped the premium meat straight into the garbage can. “Ugh, this cut is a little tough. I wouldn’t even feed this to a stray dog.” She gave me a condescending smirk. “And I’m definitely not feeding it to you.” I ignored her completely. I stood up, grabbed a cheap cup of instant noodles, and walked toward the water dispenser. Tallie gave Tristan a subtle look. Tristan rushed forward and snatched my thermos right out of my hands. “Beggars don’t get purified hot water. Go drink from the bathroom sink!” he sneered. Swallowing my boiling rage, I dug into my drawer and pulled out my old, cracked backup phone. I was going to dial 911. Tallie saw what I was doing and laughed like a maniac. “Call them! Go ahead and cry to the cops!” “The system’s magic overrides human laws!” “The police have zero jurisdiction over supernatural wealth transfers!” I ignored her nonsense and pressed the dial button. Before the call could even connect, Dean Rollins pushed his way into the room to investigate the noise complaint. Tallie didn’t even flinch when she saw the campus administrator. She simply opened her banking app and wired five thousand dollars directly into the Dean’s personal Venmo account. “Consider this a personal donation to the alumni fund, sir.” Dean Rollins looked at the notification on his screen. A massive, greasy smile spread across his face. He turned around and glared at me with absolute authority. “Avery! What is wrong with you? You have zero sense of community!” “Tallie is out here showing incredible generosity, and you’re starting fights in the dorms!” He refused to listen to a single word I said. Citing my “disruptive behavior,” he ordered me to pack my things and vacate the dorm building immediately. I stepped forward, fighting for my rights. “Sir, she stole my property and physically destroyed my phone!” “I demand you check the hallway security cameras right now!” The Dean frowned and looked at the crowd of students. Every single girl on the floor stepped up and lied through their teeth. “We saw the whole thing, Dean Rollins. Avery went crazy and smashed her own phone.” “Yeah, she even tried to attack Tallie.” Tristan casually walked over and brought his heavy boot down directly onto my backup phone, which had slipped from my hand. The satisfying crunch of breaking glass filled the room. The backup device was completely dead. “Oops. My bad. Didn’t see it there,” Tristan said, his voice dripping with fake apology. I was completely cut off from the outside world. I patted my empty pockets. I didn’t even have a few coins left to rent a campus bicycle. Tallie marched straight over to my closet. She ripped the doors open and dragged my suitcase out by the handle. She hauled it to the second-floor balcony and, without a second of hesitation, hurled it over the railing. A loud crash echoed from below. The suitcase burst open on the pavement. All my cheap, five-dollar discount clothes scattered across the road. A campus street sweeper drove by, drenching my entire wardrobe in filthy, muddy water. 3 That evening, the university hosted its grand graduation gala in the main auditorium. Everyone was dressed to the nines, glowing in tailored suits and sparkling dresses. I walked right through the front doors wearing the dirty, mud-stained t-shirt I had salvaged from the street. I was desperately looking for higher university officials to report the insane events of the afternoon. The moment I stepped inside, the spotlights snapped toward the entrance. Tallie made her grand entrance wearing a staggeringly expensive haute couture gown she had bought by maxing out her credit cards. The dress was clearly two sizes too small, digging painfully into her waist. Around her neck hung an absurdly massive diamond necklace. The blinding sparkle drew breathless screams from the crowd. “Wow! Tallie looks like a queen!” “Now that is what true old money looks like!” Tallie soaked up the worship. She strutted onto the stage in six-inch stilettos and snatched the microphone from the host. “Drinks and food for the entire night are on me!” “And I’ll be drawing ten random names tonight to win the newest flagship iPhones!” The room exploded into absolute chaos. Students chanted her name like she was a goddess. “Long live Tallie!” “Tallie is a legend!” Taking advantage of the screaming crowd, I shoved my way to the front row. I ripped a spare microphone out of a tech guy’s hands. I screamed into it with everything I had. “She is lying to all of you! That necklace is fake!” “My net worth is entirely in the red! All she inherited was a mountain of debt!” My voice echoed through the massive speakers, booming across the hall. The auditorium went dead silent for exactly one second. Tristan reacted instantly. He bolted backstage and ripped the power cord straight out of the soundboard. My microphone went completely dead. Two burly security guards, heavily bribed by Tallie earlier, charged at me from the shadows. They violently twisted my arms behind my back, locking me in a brutal hold. I thrashed and kicked, but their grip was like iron. Tallie strolled down the stage steps, casually holding a crystal glass overflowing with red wine. She stopped right in front of me. Her eyes were pure poison. With a flick of her wrist, she poured the entire glass of wine directly over my head. The dark red liquid dripped down my hair. It ran down my cheeks and soaked into my already ruined collar. The crowd erupted into vicious insults. “Get this broke loser out of here!” “If you’re jealous of Tallie’s wealth, just admit it! Stop seeking attention!” Tallie lifted her foot. She brought her razor-sharp stiletto heel down hard onto my sneaker, grinding it brutally into my toes. “How does it feel at the bottom of the food chain, Avery?” she whispered directly into my ear. Pain shot up my leg, bringing cold sweat to my forehead. I clenched my jaw, staring deadly daggers into her smug face. Tristan walked over and handed Tallie a silk napkin to wipe her fingers. “Don’t get your hands dirty on her, Tallie.” Tristan turned his head and gave me a look of pure disgust. “You’re nothing but a stray dog now. Get the hell out of our sight.” 4 The guards practically carried me out and tossed me onto the cold pavement outside the campus gates like a bag of trash. My bones ached. Every joint felt bruised. The freezing asphalt sent a violent shiver down my spine. Heavy raindrops began to fall, soaking me to the bone in seconds. I felt miserable, humiliated, and chilled to my very core. Meanwhile, Tallie and her sycophants had relocated to the presidential suite of the city’s most elite five-star hotel. Champagne. Caviar. Endless luxury. They were throwing the party of the century. Completely drenched, I wrapped my arms around myself and huddled on the concrete steps of a 24-hour convenience store. At least the small awning kept the worst of the rain off my head. Across the street, a massive LED billboard on the side of a shopping mall suddenly roared to life. The blinding light cut through the rain, illuminating the entire block. Tallie’s heavily contoured, arrogant face filled the gigantic screen. A moment later, her screeching, amplified voice echoed through the city streets. “Listen up, citizens!” “If anyone spots a homeless beggar named Avery out on the streets tonight.” “Make her get on her knees and beg for mercy. Send me the video.” “I will personally wire a hundred thousand dollars in cash to whoever does it!” A hundred thousand dollars. To buy my absolute humiliation. A group of shady-looking thugs sheltering from the rain down the block stopped talking. Their eyes darted between the massive glowing billboard and my shivering figure on the steps. Under the flickering orange glow of a streetlight, they recognized my face. Greedy, predatory grins spread across their faces. They pulled out their phones and started closing in on me. “Well, well. If it isn’t the hundred-grand princess.” The leader, a guy with bleached blonde hair, sneered as he stepped directly into my personal space. He grabbed my jacket, yanked me off the steps, and shoved me roughly against the brick wall of the alleyway. The cold brick dug into my spine. He raised his hand, winding up to slap me across the face. His phone camera was pointed right at me. The ultimate humiliation was seconds away. Right at that exact moment. Sirens wailed in the distance. The ear-piercing sound of police cruisers erupted from the direction of the luxury hotel downtown, tearing through the quiet rainy night. The blonde thug froze mid-swing. Everyone instinctively turned toward the flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the clouds. I lifted my head and looked past his shoulder, locking eyes with the digital clock inside the convenience store window. The minutes were ticking down to the absolute limit. The system’s 24-hour settlement period was entering its final five minutes. Over in the presidential suite, Tallie’s global livestream was hitting its absolute peak. She had burned cash to buy premium front-page promotion on the biggest streaming platform. She wanted a million live viewers to witness the exact second her billionaire status became official. On camera, Tristan and the Dean pushed their faces into the frame, looking like absolute clowns. “Keep your eyes peeled, chat! You’re about to witness real royalty!” Tristan screamed into the lens. Tallie sat like a queen on the velvet sofa, basking in the endless stream of digital gifts and toxic hype from the chat. The countdown hit the final ten seconds. Tallie raised a crystal flute of champagne and chanted along with her viewers. “Ten, nine, eight…” “Three, two, one!” “System settlement complete!” The massive screen in the livestream synced directly with Tallie’s banking interface.

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I noticed an elegant gift box sitting by the door. My sister burst into the house, fresh from her blind date, and started screaming. “What a complete loser! He makes less than half of what I do, and he actually expects me to stay in this dead-end town and start popping out kids by next year!” Mom and Dad rushed over to comfort her, complaining about how unreliable the matchmaker was. I couldn’t help but murmur softly. “He seemed nice. He drove you all the way home and even brought us gifts.” Phoebe let out a sharp laugh, looking at me with pure disdain. “What? You got a crush on him?” “Makes sense. You never could compete with me. A guy like that is exactly your speed.” She impatiently shoved the man’s contact info toward me. “I am not spending my life rotting in this boring little town. If you want him, take him.” I quietly accepted the contact card. I didn’t bother telling her that the car he just drove her home in belonged to the regional director of my agency. I also happened to know his family owned over thirty rental properties in town. … Phoebe was still fuming when her phone buzzed. She read the text, and her face darkened even more. “He is so annoying. He wants to take me to the movies tomorrow. I already said no, but he just won’t take a hint!” Mom quickly chimed in. “Phoebe, honey, don’t reject him so harshly.” “We live in a small town where everyone knows everyone. If you snap at him today, people will start gossiping tomorrow. They will say you think you are too good for local boys just because you work in Manhattan.” Dad nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Small town politics are complicated. Who knows what kind of connections his family has? If you offend the wrong person, it might make things difficult for you whenever you come back to visit.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. Her gaze suddenly landed on me, her tone dripping with fake charity. “Sophie, you go in my place tomorrow.” “Just cover for me and entertain him. Don’t mess it up.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded silently. No one asked if I wanted to go. In this house, I never had the right to say no. To make sure I didn’t mess up, I stayed up late researching the movie Ross had picked. I filled an entire notebook page with details about the plot, the hidden Easter eggs, and the director’s unique cinematography. The next day, Ross looked visibly surprised when he saw me waiting at the theater. I offered a polite smile. “My sister had a last-minute emergency at work. She asked me to come and apologize in person.” Then, I casually mentioned a few interesting facts about the film. His eyes lit up instantly. “Since you appreciate good cinema, it would be a shame to waste these tickets. Would you like to join me?” After the movie, we stood in the lobby for a long time, deeply engrossed in a discussion about the ending. He insisted on treating me to dinner. The conversation flowed effortlessly. There was absolutely no trace of the arrogant, mansplaining vibe Phoebe had complained about. Instead, he was incredibly attentive. He made sure my water glass was full and asked thoughtful questions about my favorite foods. After dinner, he suddenly guided me into a high-end jewelry boutique next door. He picked out two gorgeous gold pendants. When I saw the price tag approaching four thousand dollars, I froze and immediately tried to decline. He just smiled, shook his head, and handed over his credit card. “I was in a rush yesterday and didn’t get a chance to prepare separate gifts for you and your sister. Keep this one for yourself, and please pass the other one to her for me.” I accepted the jewelry box, fully aware that he still cared about Phoebe’s opinion. It made sense. Phoebe was stunning, a top-tier university graduate, and an HR executive at a massive corporate firm. I was just average. Plain, quiet, and completely ordinary. But I had absolutely no intention of giving that pendant to Phoebe just yet. When I got home, Phoebe glanced at my empty hands and scoffed. “Wow, he didn’t even buy you anything? I told you he was cheap. He takes you out and doesn’t even have the decency to spend a dime.” I ignored her, walked straight into my bedroom, and carefully tucked the jewelry box into my drawer. The moment I sat down, a notification popped up on my phone. Ross had finally accepted the friend request I sent the night before. I reapplied a touch of lip gloss, put on the gold pendant, and snapped a quick selfie for my Instagram story. Less than two minutes later, Ross liked the post. Outside my door, Phoebe was still complaining. “Thank God I sent Sophie. I would have died of boredom. The guy is broke and still has the nerve to chase me. He really doesn’t know his place.” Mom and Dad eagerly agreed. “Of course, sweetie. You are so successful. You are destined for much better things.” “From now on, we will just let Sophie handle his invitations.” I leaned against my bedroom door, feeling completely numb to their words. I was used to it. I was an unexpected pregnancy. Mom and Dad always felt guilty for not giving Phoebe their undivided attention and resources. Growing up, their favorite phrase was: “Sophie, don’t fight with your sister. She is older. Let her have it.” Phoebe got piano lessons, art classes, and expensive tutors. When I asked for a ten-dollar workbook for school, Mom called me a waste of money. Phoebe was now making a huge salary in the city, yet Mom and Dad still secretly transferred her a thousand dollars every month just to help out. Years ago, I secretly bought a bus ticket, hoping to move away and start my own life. My parents found it and shredded it into pieces. That night, I overheard them whispering in the kitchen. “Phoebe is going to marry into a good family one day. We cannot be a burden to her. Sophie is obedient. We will just keep her around to take care of us when we get old.” In their eyes, Phoebe was a delicate princess. I was just the human shield meant to absorb her problems and swallow all the unfairness. A week later, Ross invited Phoebe to go hiking. She rejected him without a second thought and pushed me out the door again. “Sophie, you go. Tell him my project deadline got moved up.” I didn’t complain. I changed into my gym clothes and headed to the trail. During the hike, I kept a steady pace. Whenever Ross fell behind, I would wait for him. I passed him water and offered him a towel when he was sweating. When the trail got steep and rocky, I gently reminded him to watch his step. The entire afternoon felt incredibly natural. I wasn’t trying to flatter him. I was just being myself. When we finally reached the summit, Ross looked out at the view and suddenly spoke. “Your sister isn’t busy. she just looks down on me, doesn’t she?” My chest tightened. Just as I opened my mouth to make an excuse, he laughed. “I sensed something was off the very first time we met. Today just confirmed it.” “Phoebe has never given me the time of day. She certainly wouldn’t be as patient and genuine as you are. I am done trying to force it.” He paused, his eyes turning incredibly serious as he looked at me. “Sophie, you are really special. How about we give this a real shot? Just you and me.” “Ross and I are officially dating.” When I broke the news to Phoebe, I casually pulled the gold pendant out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Consider this a thank you for making me go on those dates.” Phoebe stared at the jewelry, her brow furrowing in deep suspicion. “You bring home maybe three thousand a month after taxes, and you give Mom half of that. How can you afford something like this?” I gave her a sweet, innocent smile. “I dipped into my savings for you. Finding a decent guy in this town is hard. Ross makes good money, and he is a sweet guy. If we get married and budget carefully, we will have a pretty comfortable life.” She laughed, the sound dripping with thick sarcasm. “Wow, so I guess you should be thanking me.” “This is exactly your level of ambition. Picking up the trash I threw away and acting like you struck gold.” I lowered my eyes and stayed quiet. I had been listening to her mockery for over twenty years. I was completely immune to it. Once Ross and I made things official, we started having a standing Friday night dinner date. But lately, I was always running late. It wasn’t my fault. Ever since his messy divorce, my creepy office manager, Mr. Henderson, had been targeting me. Every Friday right before quitting time, he would dump a massive stack of paperwork on my desk. Worse, he would find excuses to brush against my shoulder or touch my hands while “reviewing” my work. One evening, Ross drove straight to my office building so I wouldn’t be late. The moment I walked out the glass doors, Henderson chased after me. He pretended to hand me a folder, deliberately rubbing his fingers across the back of my hand. I didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, I furrowed my brows, putting on a perfectly crafted look of helpless victimhood. I knew Ross had a clear view from the driver’s seat. A deafening honk shattered the quiet parking lot. Ross slammed his car door shut, his eyes burning with absolute fury. “Who the hell are you? Keep your hands off my girlfriend!” Henderson jumped back in sheer panic and practically sprinted back inside the building. The next morning, the office was buzzing with crazy rumors. Henderson had been permanently relocated to a miserable, rundown branch office in the middle of nowhere. My coworkers were whispering that he must have offended someone extremely powerful, because the transfer was immediate and he wasn’t even allowed to pack his own desk. That night, when Ross picked me up, I casually mentioned the office gossip. He looked at me, his eyes softening with warmth. “That was me. I am never letting anyone disrespect you.” That was the night he finally told me the truth about his background. His father was the county commissioner. His mother was the principal of the most elite private academy in the state. “I didn’t mention it during the blind dates because I hate people using me for my family’s money,” he explained softly. “I studied abroad for a few years and had a serious girlfriend. We were together for three years. But right before graduation, she found out I wanted to move back to our hometown to settle down. She called me an unambitious loser and dumped me.” “My parents are getting older, and they really want to see me start a family. That is why I agreed to the matchmaking.” Everything suddenly clicked. No wonder a guy with his looks and wealth was resorting to local blind dates. Ross suddenly reached across the console and took my hand. His voice was thick with emotion. “Sophie, I am telling you all of this because I am not playing games. I am dating you with the intention of marrying you.” Looking into his earnest eyes, I gave him a firm, confident nod. By our second month together, Ross took me to meet his parents. They were incredibly warm and welcoming. They adored me immediately and even slipped a massive cash gift into my purse before we left. Six months flew by, and we finally decided to tie the knot. When I told my parents, they barely looked up from the TV. They casually mentioned that money was tight and they could only give me a thousand dollars for a wedding contribution. I didn’t argue. I went straight to the bank, took out a personal loan, and bumped my wedding fund up to twenty thousand dollars. I refused to let anyone look down on me on my wedding day. More importantly, I refused to give Phoebe and my parents the satisfaction of seeing me look pathetic. The wedding day arrived. Ross’s parents had spent over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars booking the grand ballroom at the most luxurious country club in the county. The guest list was packed with the town’s most influential politicians and business owners. Even the director of my agency showed up, shaking my hand and offering his warmest congratulations. But as the ceremony time approached, my parents were nowhere to be seen. I was standing in the bridal suite, shivering in my heavy gown, feeling my chest tighten with anxiety. Finally, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Mom. [Sophie, we aren’t coming. Phoebe suddenly spiked a high fever. We are driving to the city right now to take care of her.] [Besides, Ross’s parents are just trying to show off by booking that expensive club. We saw the smallest banquet room there once, and it is barely bigger than a closet. We would just be embarrassed if we went. Phoebe’s health is way more important.] My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. They hadn’t even bothered to read the wedding invitation properly. They were so subconsciously dismissive of me that they completely wrote off my husband and his family as nobodies. Thank God Ross’s family didn’t care about the slight. If anything, my mother-in-law was fiercely protective of me. Knowing I came into the marriage with very little money, she insisted I take total control of all the cash gifts given by the guests. It totaled over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. That was four times the amount my parents had secretly set aside for Phoebe’s future wedding. That night, I posted a stunning photo of Ross and me cutting the cake on my Instagram. The family group chat was dead silent. Not a single word of congratulations. A few hours later, Phoebe posted a picture of a bowl of chicken soup. The caption read: [Family will always be your safest harbor.] I wasn’t angry. I didn’t shed a single tear. I had a hundred and twenty thousand dollars in the bank. Money, as it turns out, is the greatest cure for a broken heart. Shortly after we got married, Ross noticed I was exhausted from my daily commute. He surprised me with a brand-new, seventy-thousand-dollar Mercedes SUV. One morning, I was parked outside my office. The sunlight looked beautiful hitting the flowers on the sidewalk, so I snapped a quick picture for my Instagram story. I didn’t realize a tiny piece of the steering wheel logo was in the frame. Phoebe immediately sent me a direct message with three question marks. [Where did you get a car? And a Benz at that?] My stomach dropped. Memories of childhood flooded back. Whenever Phoebe realized I had something nicer than her, she would completely destroy it. I swallowed my anxiety and typed back: [Just carpooling with a coworker.] Her reply was instant and dripping with venom: [LMAO. Doesn’t it make you feel pathetic? Riding your little e-bike to work while your coworker drives a Benz. Stop faking a lifestyle you don’t have. You get what you deserve.] I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I clicked on her profile. She had been working in the city for four years. Her salary was around ninety thousand a year. She loved posting photos looking glamorous and wealthy. But the reality was, she paid over three thousand dollars a month for a tiny studio apartment that didn’t even have a balcony, just so she could have a shorter commute. Her latest story was a blurry photo of cheap flowers bought from a subway station. I knew that subway line. Even at eleven o’clock at night, you were packed in so tight you could barely breathe. Another post was her complaining about spending forty bucks on an artisanal salad that left her starving an hour later. Meanwhile, I had a five-minute drive to work and came home to a massive kitchen with hot, gourmet meals every night. A good life is meant to be lived, not performed for an audience. Six months into our marriage, I found out I was pregnant.

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My current boyfriend and I are together because he originally interfered with my relationship with my ex-boyfriend and pursued me. Perhaps because he used this method, he’s terrified that others will do the same to him, constantly worrying that I’ll leave. His possessiveness has become suffocating. I have to call him in real-time whenever I have a meal with anyone, and I have to undergo his interrogation before going to sleep at night. Even when I go out with my best friend, I have to be home before 10 PM. I simply couldn’t take it anymore and made up my mind to break up with him. That night, in the middle of it, he suddenly appeared by my bed, his voice cold, saying that if I wanted to break up, I could. Then he added that it would have to be after he died, and with that, he walked toward the window, looking like he was about to jump. Terrified, I immediately rushed over and hugged his legs, repeatedly saying I wouldn’t break up, begging him to stop. Ugh, what rotten luck, how did I end up with such a possessive person? 01 When I met Brian Sregor, I was still Adrian Thorne’s girlfriend. Adrian was tall and slender, gentle and wealthy. Reportedly, he fell for me at first sight. When he pursued me, he sent flowers, gifts, and warmth, kneeling by the sea with roses to confess, a grand and passionate display that made it hard for me not to fall. Seeing his handsome face, I agreed to his pursuit. I couldn’t help it; I’m a sucker for good looks. I could eat an extra half bowl of rice just looking at a handsome guy. Two weeks into our relationship, Adrian introduced me to his friends. He affectionately wrapped an arm around my waist and introduced me: “This is Mia, my girlfriend.” His friends exchanged glances, then praised me along with him: “Mia is so beautiful, no wonder Adrian pursued her for so long.” Another person nearby made a strange face, his tone amusing: “Mia, you wouldn’t believe it, when Adrian was pursuing you, he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, all he thought about was how to please you.” “We kept wondering what kind of woman could enchant Adrian so completely, and seeing you today, you’re indeed a goddess.” I smiled, not taking their polite words too seriously. Adrian’s friends all seemed very friendly, except for one. From the moment I walked in, a gaze had been fixed on me. I looked up. What a striking face, an absolute stunner. His features were exquisitely beautiful, yet his demeanor was cool and languid. His long, beautiful eyes met my gaze, the corners slightly upturned, ink-colored pupils holding a smile. His lips curved slightly, truly a captivating, devilish charm. Adrian was handsome, and his friends were good-looking, but compared to him, they simply faded into the background, dim and unremarkable. Adrian followed my gaze and instantly understood. He put his arm around my waist and greeted the man: “Long time no see, Brian.” Brian’s eyelids lifted, and he looked at Adrian, who was hugging me. The smile in his eyes receded, and he nodded coolly and reservedly: “Hello.” Outstanding looks, and even a pleasant voice. Adrian sighed helplessly: “Brian, you’re still so aloof. Can’t you say a few more words?” His friends chimed in, agreeing: “Exactly, Brian has always seemed unapproachable since childhood.” “For the sake of being childhood friends, this big shot barely agrees to speak a couple of words to us.” “Looking at him, we probably won’t be attending his wedding anytime soon.” Brian sat on the sofa, listening to his friends’ teasing without a care. But after a while, his lips suddenly curved into a smile: “Who says? I might have a crush.” A thunderclap out of nowhere. Adrian and his friends erupted: “The impossible has happened! Who is it, tell us!” I also wanted to know. Someone this stunning has a crush on someone else? So, there are people in this world who don’t care about looks. Who could it be? But clearly, when Brian didn’t want to talk about something, no one could force him. Until the party ended, no one got any information out of him. 02 Ever since Brian and I connected on social media, I’ve developed a new hobby: checking his profile. Although they appear to be ordinary life photos, if you zoom in, you’ll notice some subtle intentions. For example: after a workout, a translucent garment is casually rolled up, revealing his abs and V-line. In dim lighting, long, well-defined fingers loosen his collar, exposing a beautiful and sexy collarbone. Of course, the main attraction is always his breathtakingly handsome face. I suspect Brian is fishing, trying to reel in his chosen catch. But thanks to that catch, we onlookers get a feast for our eyes. “Mia.” Adrian walked up to me, a frown on his face, looking displeased. I put away my phone; I still loved my boyfriend very much. “What’s wrong?” Clearly, Adrian wasn’t upset about Brian. He took my hand: “A friend of mine is back, and she wants to meet you.” “But don’t believe everything she says.” I sensed an unusual vibe from his cautious tone. And it was indeed unusual; the moment we met, she eyed me from head to toe. Adrian took my hand and greeted the person opposite us: “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Mia.” Chloe, wearing a pink and white dress, had large eyes on a cute heart-shaped face, and long, dark curly hair framing her ears. She was sweet-looking and had a sweet voice. She grabbed my hand, all warmth and familiarity: “Mia, I’m Chloe Sregor, Adrian’s childhood friend.” “Adrian, Mia is so beautiful!” With that, she immediately let go of my hand and playfully punched Adrian in the chest: “Your taste is still the best, Mia is much prettier than your previous girlfriends. You’re so lucky.” Childhood friend, Adrian. I shot Adrian a wry glance, a half-smile playing on my lips. Adrian clutched his chest, glancing at me awkwardly, not daring to speak. This childhood friend’s game wasn’t very high-level. I tucked a stray hair behind my ear and smiled, looking down: “Perhaps Chloe just prefers my type of looks, which is why she thinks I’m prettier.” Chloe’s face flushed deep red; she probably hadn’t encountered someone like me, who could turn any situation upside down. It was almost as if a rival had suddenly become a ‘gal pal,’ and someone chuckled. Adrian immediately stepped in to smooth things over: “Alright, everyone, let’s go inside.” Once inside the room, Adrian insisted on squeezing onto the small sofa with me, thigh to thigh, waist to waist, as if afraid I was angry, constantly talking and trying to make me laugh. I remained expressionless; it wasn’t anger, mostly just how cramped it was. Brian sat alone on a single sofa, his spacious seat making me envious. Adrian kept leaning closer as he spoke, further encroaching on my space. “Is Mia upset with me?” Chloe, for no apparent reason, came over to interject again. She looked on the verge of tears, gazing at me pitifully: “It’s all my fault for saying the wrong thing.” “Mia, please don’t be angry with Adrian and me.” I stood up. The cramped seating was already annoying, and now this was even more so: “I’m not angry.” “Ms. Sregor, what right do you have to make Adrian and me angry?” “This is our first meeting. Before this, I’ve never even heard your name from Adrian. Ms. Sregor, you think too highly of yourself.” Chloe’s tears hung precariously, her expression stunned, probably not expecting me to be so direct. I watched her tears finally fall. Chloe choked out: “So Adrian didn’t want to mention me.” Adrian avoided Chloe’s gaze, but his hand tightened on mine. Chloe’s eyes reddened again: “I’m sorry, Adrian, I shouldn’t have broken off our engagement back then.” Engaged? I actually didn’t know about this. I looked at Adrian. His face was grim, and he whispered an explanation to me: “Mia, that was a long time ago.” So it was true. Chloe continued to weep, dripping tears: “Adrian and I had a childhood engagement.” I couldn’t help but interject: “What era is this? Childhood engagement? How old-fashioned.” Chloe briefly shot me a dagger look, but it had no effect. “Adrian was always so good to me when we were little, caring for me and even getting into fights to protect me.” I hadn’t expected the usually gentle Adrian to have fought for someone else. Adrian’s grip on my hand tightened unconsciously, but his gaze was fixed on Chloe, stern. “Chloe, stop. That’s all in the past.” Chloe cried pitifully, her eyes blurry with tears: “I’m sorry, Adrian, you were so good to me.” “Your Adrian was so good to you, yet you left without a word on your engagement day and ran off with someone else, didn’t you?” A sudden voice rang out, elegant and distinguished, with a mocking tone. I shifted my gaze. It was Brian, speaking with a smile, sitting on a nearby sofa, twirling a wine glass. “You enjoyed Adrian’s kindness, yet you were entangled with someone else. When you left a sticky note and walked out on your engagement day, did you consider the dignity of your fiancé and both families’ parents?” Chloe’s face flushed. No one had ever been so merciless to her. She was an only child, and her parents always doted on her. Even when she ran away from her wedding, her parents were only angry for a while and quickly forgave her, willing to back her up. Adrian’s parents didn’t say much, out of respect for her parents, and Adrian had spoiled her since childhood. A large part of her reckless, runaway nature was cultivated by Adrian’s indulgence. She would act cute and pitiful with Adrian, and he would always forgive her. Chloe lowered her head, secretly resenting Brian, but her voice remained sweet: “I was too naive back then.” Brian chuckled again, leaning his head back, his posture languid. Sunlight gently streamed in from the window, coating his porcelain-white skin with a light golden glow, his features even more strikingly beautiful. “Chloe Sregor, after all these years, you’re still both stupid and malicious, with no brains.” Brian met my surprised gaze, his eyes curving into a captivating smile. Chloe, however, stopped crying, glaring at Brian with hatred: “What did you say?” Brian’s tongue remained sharp and merciless: “Do you really think your little tricks are invisible to everyone else?” “How many times have you deliberately tried to sow discord?” “Only Adrian, that fool, was played by you, and that’s because he liked you.” “But he doesn’t like you anymore.” His words were so poisonous, practically an indiscriminate attack. Chloe’s nails dug into her palms, shaking with rage. Adrian had forgiven her, but after that, he started dating other girls. Yet, she managed to break up all those relationships, and he’d been single for years. Just as she thought she could rekindle things with Adrian, I appeared. “Adrian, you really don’t want me anymore?” I frowned deeply. She was openly confessing to my boyfriend in front of me. She really didn’t see me as anything. Good thing Adrian knew his place. “My feelings for Mia are sincere. I truly love her.” “The first time I saw her, I liked her.” “I want to marry her.” With that, he was about to get down on one knee to propose to me. That nearly scared me to death. I hadn’t enjoyed my good life long enough; I definitely didn’t want to get married young. “Alright, alright, I believe you, get up quickly.” Chloe completely broke down. Tears stopped falling, replaced by a hateful glare at me, her eyes like daggers. What’s the point of hating me? Did I force her to run away from her wedding? I turned around, giving Chloe the same scrutinizing look she had given me earlier: “You look much better like this than with your fake tears from before.” “Seems a lot more genuine.” Adrian stood silently by my side, clearly taking a stand. Chloe, seeing no one helping her, finally stormed off. But she didn’t know that Adrian, while wrapping his arm around my shoulder, had watched her retreating back for a long time. It wasn’t until I nudged him that he suddenly came back to himself and smiled at me. After the gathering, Adrian was about to take me home when he got a call. I didn’t hear what was said. He frowned deeply, looking at me with an awkward expression: “Mia, something’s come up with Chloe. I might have to go.” No wonder Chloe was so brazen; it was all Adrian’s indulgence. I wrapped my shawl tighter, tucking a stray hair behind my ear: “What about me, then?” Adrian spoke softly, his face cautious: “Can I ask Brian to take you back?” Just then, Brian arrived. He stood next to Adrian, tall and slender, twirling his car keys: “Ready?” I bypassed Adrian completely and left with Brian. “Brian, didn’t you drink earlier?” “The glass had grape juice in it.”

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When the apocalypse hit, the world went to hell. As the last Aether researcher in our bunker, I faced a choice for humanity’s future. Memories of my past life flooded me. In that timeline, my assistant Silas—who couldn’t even recall the periodic table—was hailed as the “Father of Awakenings.” He could awaken flawless abilities with a touch, while I labored over data and mental thresholds. It climaxed when our Leader was to awaken an S-Class Lightning ability. Silas pushed me aside, saying only he could guide her. I fought to warn of the Lightning element’s volatility, but his followers pinned me down. Silas succeeded, becoming the bunker’s messiah. Me? He framed me for illegal experiments, broke my limbs, and threw me to the infected horde. As I was torn apart, I realized the truth: he had no “God Touch”—he was telepathic, stealing my mental blueprints as his own. I blinked, gasping. I was back in the lab, on the day he first claimed the God Touch. This time, I didn’t bother with calculations. I leaned back and hummed a silly ’90s dance tune in my mind. 1 “Larkin, congratulations man! Another one hundred percent success rate on the Awakening protocols!” “No kidding! As long as we have Larkin, our bunker is going to pump out more Awakened soldiers than any other settlement in the coalition!” Surrounded by a cheering crowd, I felt a wave of vertigo. The air didn’t reek of rotting flesh and coagulated blood. Instead, the sharp bite of clinical antiseptic filled my lungs. I instinctively patted my arms and legs. Completely intact. No shattered bones. No agonizing pain from teeth tearing into my skin. “Hold on a minute!” Right as General Briggs was about to hand me the Researcher of the Month commendation, my “good colleague” Silas stepped out from the crowd, his face a mask of solemn duty. “General, I need to come clean. The actual guiding protocol for this batch… I was the one who designed it.” Looking at his earnest, deceptively honest face, the realization hit me hard. I had been reborn to this exact moment. I gripped my clipboard so tightly my knuckles turned white. Mutters of disbelief rippled through the room. Silas furrowed his brow, playing the part of a wronged genius who had suffered in silence for too long. “If you’re claiming you did the work, why don’t you give us a live demonstration?” I swallowed the venom rising in my throat and pointed at a young man in the corner. He was a Geokinetic who had been stuck on the verge of Awakening, entirely unable to break past his bottleneck. “His mental threshold is incredibly unstable. Since you have the God Touch, why don’t you push him over the edge?” Silas froze for a fraction of a second before regaining his composure. He strutted forward brimming with confidence and placed his hand dramatically against the young man’s forehead. At that exact moment, I felt the faintest prickling sensation grazing my mind. A mental probe. Just as I thought. He was reading my thoughts. In my past life, this was the exact moment I played the absolute fool. Terrified that the poor kid was going to suffer a fatal backlash, my brain had gone into overdrive, frantically analyzing the geokinetic data and mapping out the safest neural pathways. Silas heard every single thought, copied it, and used it to build his own legend. This time, I didn’t rush to expose him. I just narrowed my eyes. I had been tracking this Earth-elemental kid’s vitals for a week. The blueprint was already mapped out in my head. I just hadn’t run the final clinical trials. I rapidly pulled up the incomplete schematic in my mind and mentally filled in the final missing sequence. In that same split second, Silas’s eyes lit up. He started muttering like a seasoned oracle. “I feel it… Channel the ambient kinetic energy starting from the lower meridian nodes…” As he mirrored my exact mental instructions, the young man, whose face had been twisted in agony, suddenly gasped. The chaotic earth elements in the room instantly submitted to him, layering over his skin to form a dense, heavy suit of rock armor. “I… I did it?!” the kid yelled in pure shock. “I broke through! Thank you, Silas! You’re a literal god!” “Holy shit! The God Touch is real! He didn’t even need a bio-monitor! He just touched him and knew exactly what to do!” The room erupted into deafening applause and cheers. 2 Silas turned his head and shot me a provocative look, his eyes practically swimming in smug satisfaction. I stood on the fringe of the crowd, a cold smirk tugging at my lips. It was exactly as I hypothesized. Just a minute ago, I had mentally called him a brainless parasite, and he hadn’t reacted at all. But the second I started visualizing complex Aether-data, he locked right onto it. His telepathy wasn’t omnipotent. He could only skim the highly focused, technical frequencies of my cerebral cortex. “Well, Larkin? What do you have to say for yourself now?” A figure pushed through the cheering crowd. It was Valerie, the captain of the Vanguard Squad. She also happened to be my current girlfriend. She walked straight to Silas, gently brushing a speck of dust off his shoulder with a look of deep admiration. Then she turned her icy glare on me, her voice dripping with disappointment and disgust. “While Silas was saving that boy’s life, I saw you standing in the corner smirking. What? Seeing him succeed hurts your ego that much? Are you really that suffocated by jealousy?” Silas immediately raised his hands, playing the magnanimous saint. “Captain Valerie, please, don’t be too hard on Larkin. He’s my senior. It’s totally understandable that he needs a minute to process the fact that I was born with this gift. I don’t hold it against him.” “You are way too nice for your own good, Silas!” Valerie snapped indignantly. “Some people can’t produce a single viable result on their own, so they resort to suppressing the new blood. Facts speak louder than words. Your God Touch is infinitely more valuable than his dusty old spreadsheets!” General Briggs walked over. While he wasn’t quite as venomous as Valerie, the warmth was completely gone from his eyes when he looked at me. “Larkin, the results are undeniable. Silas is simply more gifted. We are fighting a losing war out there. We don’t have time to wait around. We need the most efficient Awakening methods possible.” He paused, letting his authority settle over the room. “Effective immediately, Silas will take full command of the Aether Research Division. Larkin, you will act as his assistant. Try to learn a thing or two from him.” The surrounding researchers nodded in fervent agreement. “Exactly. I used to think Larkin was some kind of genius, but he just got totally eclipsed by his own intern.” “Silas is the real deal. That earth kid was stuck for months, and Silas fixed him with a single touch.” Facing a room full of people ready to burn me at the stake, I didn’t scream or desperately try to defend myself like I did in my past life. I simply reached up, unpinned the Chief Researcher badge from my coat, and set it softly on the steel table. “Alright,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “If Assistant Silas is truly that gifted, I’ll leave all future Awakening operations in his capable hands.” Silas clearly hadn’t expected me to roll over so easily. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, quickly swallowed by manic joy. “Thanks for stepping aside, Larkin! I promise I won’t let the bunker down! Though, for some of the more boring theoretical stuff, I might still need you to double-check my math.” I looked right at him and smiled. “Don’t worry. For the sake of the bunker and the future of humanity, I will give you everything you need.” 3 For the next two weeks, I played the dutiful assistant, following Silas around like a shadow. No matter how chaotic or complex an Awakener’s condition was, I would immediately construct the flawless solution in my head. A Pyromancer’s core is overheating? I would mentally recite: “Compress the local oxygen density to choke the ignition point.” Silas would parrot the command. Flawless success. A Hydromancer suffering from acute cellular dehydration? I would run the analysis: “Inject a concentrated electrolyte drip directly into the primary artery.” Silas executed it. Absolute perfection. Riding entirely on my silent mental labor, Silas’s reputation skyrocketed into the stratosphere. People were calling him the messiah of the wasteland, the literal “Father of Awakenings.” There were even petitions floating around to build a statue of him in the courtyard. With Silas’s untouchable status secured, the bunker administration finally moved forward with their most controversial agenda. The Genesis Protocol. In this apocalyptic wasteland, the human population was on the brink of extinction. Passing down elite genetic traits had become the absolute highest priority. Under bunker law, only men and women certified with S-Class genetics were authorized to start a family. They were granted the highest luxury rations, private quarters, and complete immunity from scavenging duty. Valerie and I were the bunker’s recognized S-Class pair. She was our fiercest Vanguard captain, and I was the chief intellectual asset. Our pairing had always been treated as a given. But the wind had changed. After a scavenging team hauled in a massive cache of pre-war supplies, the bunker threw a celebration banquet. General Briggs, his face flushed with cheap alcohol, raised his glass. “To honor Silas’s ascension as the Father of Awakenings, command has decided to award him the sole Genesis Protocol slot for this year! And the woman chosen to stand by his side is, naturally, our finest Captain Valerie!” The mess hall erupted into wild cheers. Silas straightened his posture, wearing the modest, restrained smile of a man who had won the lottery. He humbly lowered his head, casting a longing glance at Valerie before looking at me with an expression of deep, manufactured distress. “I… I can’t accept this. Valerie is Larkin’s girl.” He wrung his hands. “How could I steal the woman he loves? That’s just completely wrong.” The crowd immediately took the bait. “Silas, man, the world ended! This isn’t the time to be hung up on high school romance! You’re being way too selfless!” “Exactly! For the future of the human race, the strong need to pair with the strong!” “Larkin is just an assistant now. His genes aren’t even in the same league as your God Touch!” “Larkin should be honored to step aside! This is for the survival of humanity!” Every eye in the room zeroed in on me, slicing into me like daggers. Valerie stood up, her expression a perfect mask of cold, noble duty. She walked over to me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with detached pity. “Larkin, I know this feels incredibly unfair. I hate that it has to be this way.” “But as the Vanguard Captain, I have to put the big picture first. For the continuation of our species, for a stronger next generation, I am willing to sacrifice my personal happiness.” “You’re a logical man. I know you understand the burden I have to carry, right?” Looking at her sickeningly righteous face, I actually had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing out loud. Sacrifice her happiness? In my past life, when Silas framed me and broke my bones, this woman—who claimed to love me—didn’t even flinch. She didn’t visit my cell once. Worse, as my consciousness faded while bleeding out in the dirt, I saw them together. Through the reinforced glass of my own lab, I watched them having sex on my desk while the horde tore me apart. They had been screwing behind my back long before today. 4 I brushed her hand off my shoulder and arranged my features into an expression of tragic martyrdom. “You’re right, Valerie. In the face of human extinction, what do my petty feelings matter?” I turned to Silas, who was still wearing his pathetic, guilty expression. “Silas, since command believes you two are the optimal match, I yield. I hope you produce the ultimate child for this bunker. Don’t let humanity down.” “Larkin…” Silas choked up, looking like he was ready to take a bullet for me. “Thank you! You are a bigger man than I could ever be! Valerie and I will never forget your sacrifice!” Valerie visibly relaxed, letting out a heavy sigh. “Don’t worry, Larkin. When we have our firstborn, we’ll name you the godfather.” The mess hall erupted into a standing ovation. I retreated to the shadowy corner of the room, sipping a stale glass of water, watching the golden couple soak up their fraudulent glory. The banquet didn’t drag on for much longer. Everyone needed their rest. Three days later was the day that truly mattered. It was the day Seraphina, the supreme Leader of our bunker, was scheduled to awaken her S-Class Lightning ability. Silas had been living like a king for the past three days. He watched me scribbling away in my notebooks, looking completely relaxed. He knew the drill. As long as I did the homework, he would get the A-plus. The final day arrived. At exactly noon, the clouds above the bunker violently churned, mutating into a thick, suffocating canopy of deep purple storm clouds. Seraphina’s Awakening had begun. Outside the heavy blast doors of the isolation chamber, wild arcs of purple lightning lashed against the reinforced glass. “Energy outputs are spiking! She’s breaching critical mass!” the bio-monitor technician screamed in pure panic. “We need to initiate the guide protocol immediately, or we are looking at a localized thermonuclear detonation in three minutes!” General Briggs was sweating bullets. He grabbed Silas by the shoulder. “Silas, the entire bunker is riding on you. This is an S-Class threshold. Are you absolutely certain you can do this?” Even faced with apocalyptic, bunker-leveling lightning, Silas maintained his arrogant, serene smile. He had spent the last three days watching me run calculations until my eyes bled. He was dead certain he could just jack into my brain and read the cheat sheet. He tipped his chin up proudly. “Relax, General. S-Class might sound scary, but under my God Touch, all Aether elements bow down. Guiding the Leader will be as easy as breathing.” Valerie gripped her rifle, her eyes shining with absolute devotion. “Silas, you really are the savior of this world.” Silas turned around and shot me a look of pure, unadulterated condescension. “Larkin, what are you waiting for? Keep up. Even though I have this in the bag, guiding an S-Class drains a lot of raw stamina. You’re on standby. Keep your brain moving fast. Don’t lose my rhythm and embarrass me.” Through the thick anti-blast glass, I stared at the woman strapped to the center of the room, howling in agony as raw electricity consumed her body. In my past life, I bled myself dry to save her, only for Silas to steal the credit and throw me to the wolves. I lowered my head to hide the dark, predatory gleam in my eyes and obediently followed him inside. The heavy doors hissed open. The sheer concussive force of the wild lightning nearly knocked us off our feet. Seraphina was suspended in the center of the room by heavy grounding chains, wearing a scorched tactical vest. Her eyes were glowing a blinding crimson. She was seconds away from a total meltdown. Silas walked right up to her, striking a highly professional, heroic pose. Then, he plunged his mental tendrils straight into my cerebral cortex, desperate for the answer key. The familiar, invasive tickle washed over my mind. A split second later, Silas smirked, opened his mouth, and screamed at the top of his lungs: “SLIDE TO THE LEFT! SLIDE TO THE RIGHT! CRISS-CROSS! EVERYBODY CLAP YOUR HANDS!” The crowd of officials and scientists watching through the glass froze in absolute horror.

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On my brother’s bedside table, that familiar bouquet of white bellflowers froze me in place. Everyone used to say it took ten years for Quinn—the girl whose flowers I’d toss in the trash every day—to become the only girl by my side. Growing up, I’d always gotten away with things, relying on my good looks. My admirers came and went, but she, my childhood friend, always stayed. They’d often tell me I’d never find anyone like Quinn if I let her go, that companionship was the most moving declaration of love. Just as I was finally ready to let my guard down and accept her, this discovery hit me like a bucket of ice water, dousing all my courage. I’ve always had a terrible personality, but I just happened to be born with a face that drew people in. 1 The next day at school, Quinn brought me a red rose. I frowned, didn’t even glance at it, and tossed it straight into the trash. Quinn paused, then, unfazed, leaned in with a sweet smile. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” From seven to seventeen, no matter how much I snapped at Quinn, she’d always indulge me like this. The worst time was when I accidentally broke a jade pendant her deceased mother had left her. My eyes welled up, ready to apologize. But Quinn just quietly asked if I’d hurt my hand. Even if, later, she’d hide away and cry by herself. Maybe it was just a coincidence. I turned my head, asking in a muffled voice, “Why did my brother have the same white bellflowers you gave me yesterday?” Quinn chuckled. “Nothing to do with me. I know you can’t stand him, so I’ve never even spoken to him.” Right. Quinn and Leo had barely exchanged a few words. How could she have given him flowers? I let out a sigh of relief, just about to swallow my pride and apologize to Quinn. Then the school bell rang. I scribbled a note and slipped it into her desk. But as I did, I noticed a pink envelope tucked inside her textbook. It had a little heart drawn on it. And I recognized the handwriting. It was from my brother, Leo. 2 My fingers hooked the pink envelope, and without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled it out. As the letter unfolded, Leo’s familiar, elegant handwriting filled the page. He wrote about falling for Quinn the first time he saw her, about envying her when she brought me flowers, about his internal struggle, afraid to get close. I patiently flipped through the pages until I reached the last line: “If you agree, please give me a single white bellflower.” My gaze froze. So it wasn’t a coincidence. That white bellflower by his bed—that’s how it got there. The teacher was lecturing animatedly at the front of the classroom. I bit back my fury, slamming the letter onto Quinn’s desk, glaring at her. The grating sound of my chair scraping the floor was too loud. The teacher frowned, calling out my name. “Alex, what’s with the fidgeting in class? You answer this question.” I stared at the formula on the blackboard, my mind a blank, filled only with the contents of that letter. Quinn whispered the answer to me, her voice laced with urgency and reassurance. But I didn’t want to say a word. The teacher waited for a long moment, his face darkening. “Alex, what do you have besides a pretty face? Your grades are worse than your brother’s, you’re spoiled and arrogant, always stirring up trouble with girls, making a mess of this class!” I just kept my head down, gritting my teeth, silent. I didn’t care what people said about my personality. But I hated, absolutely hated, being compared to my brother. I didn’t look at the teacher, didn’t look at Quinn, just walked out of the classroom, my face cold. I’d barely splashed water on my face in the boys’ room when I heard Quinn’s hurried footsteps behind me. Her face was etched with anxiety, completely unlike her usual composed, accommodating self. “Alex, please don’t be mad.” “You know I hate being compared to him!” I glared at Quinn, my eyes blazing. “Quinn, don’t play dumb. You know that’s not what I’m most angry about.” She pressed her lips together, a hint of hurt in her eyes, explaining softly, “The white bellflowers were specifically for you. I didn’t know he wanted them, and I certainly didn’t plan to give him any.” I demanded, “Then what about the white bellflowers by his bed?” “He must have bought them himself, trying to make you misunderstand,” Quinn sighed, her voice laced with resignation. “Lots of girls in class like you, saying they’ll confess after exams. I was scared of losing you, so I just wanted to make you a little jealous, to let you know I cared.” Her eyes held a pleading look. “I’ve already explained things to the teacher, don’t take it to heart. I can wait, until you’re ready to accept me, until exams are over, however long it takes.” Looking at the stubbornness in her eyes, remembering her unwavering presence for the past ten years. The fire in my chest cooled a bit. I said, my voice still cold, “Alright, after the exams.” Quinn’s eyes immediately lit up, and that gentle smile returned to her face. On the way home from school, she took a call, frowning. “Something urgent came up. You go home first; I’ll find you after I’m done.” I nodded and walked on. After only a few steps, I remembered my water bottle in the classroom and turned back. As I reached the classroom door, just about to push it open, I heard Leo’s voice, a hint of a whine in it. “Quinn, are you really going to wait until after exams?” I froze in place. 3 The classroom door was ajar, and Leo’s voice drifted out, soft and submissive. “Quinn, big brother walked out of class like that today. The teacher must be furious, and you still went to explain for him. Isn’t that exhausting?” “Sometimes I wonder, you’ve waited for him for so many years, given him everything good, and he… he never seemed to care.” “Big brother probably doesn’t understand how rare it is for someone to wait with their whole heart. Just like I’m waiting for you.” He looked at Quinn with what seemed like concern. “I just worry you’ll get too tired. If big brother keeps acting like this, won’t you feel too wronged?” No tears, no self-pity, no overt criticism. It just made my chest ache, but there was no outright malice to pinpoint. I shoved the classroom door open. It hit the wall with a thud. Leo turned, no panic on his face, just a perfectly timed look of surprise. Then he lowered his eyes, docile as a harmless kitten, completely devoid of the awkwardness from moments ago. My gaze landed on him, and I raised an eyebrow. “Leo, you’re certainly more well-behaved discussing people behind their backs than you are in front of Mom and Dad.” “Worried about her? It’s not your place to worry. How I treat her is between us. It’s not up to someone who’s barely exchanged words with her to stick up for her.” Leo’s eyes reddened, but he only softly argued, “Brother, I didn’t. I was just worried about Quinn. I didn’t mean anything else. Don’t overthink it.” Quinn, beside him, frowned slightly and took a half-step forward. Her tone held a hint of exasperation towards me, and a gentle protectiveness towards Leo. “Alex, don’t say that. Leo was just being kind, he didn’t mean any harm. Why are you being so aggressive?” Just that one sentence, but it twisted my insides into knots. The year I was born, Leo arrived shortly after, premature and frail. The family’s focus instantly shifted. He was given the name Leo, wishing him a life of joy, cherished by all. And I was named Alex. To bid farewell, to yield, to always give way. Growing up, if he wanted something of mine, I had to let him have it. My only friend was snatched away by his soft words: “Brother’s just like that; you’ll always feel wronged playing with him.” Everyone told me, “You’re the older brother, he’s not well, you have to let him have his way.” I was forced to become sharp, unruly, and difficult. Only then could I hold onto a tiny bit of what was mine. Everyone doted on him, everyone but Quinn. From the age of seven, she ignored everyone’s accusations, ignored me throwing her flowers in the trash, ignored my cold remarks, and always, unconditionally, stood by me. Seven-year-old Quinn stubbornly told me, “I love how you protect yourself! We’re friends, and I’ll always stand by you!” “Someone who has to steal from others to thrive isn’t worth getting upset over!” But just now, for Leo, she frowned and casually defended him. No favoritism, no excessive protection, just a simple word of caution. Yet she knew perfectly well what I had been forced into. And still, she chose to defend him. I took a deep breath, refusing to swallow my hurt. The next second, I raised my hand and slapped Quinn across the face. Quinn’s head snapped to the side from the impact. She turned back, stunned, her eyes filled with disbelief and a flicker of pain. I didn’t look at her, nor at the bewildered Leo. Tears welled in my eyes, but I bit down hard on my lip, refusing to let them fall. The way to avoid being wronged wasn’t to cry. Turning, I bolted out of the classroom without a backward glance. Leaving ten years of companionship, ten years of unwavering loyalty, all behind me. 4 I stormed back to my dorm room. I’d chosen to live on campus after my family and I became estranged a long time ago. A while later, my roommate edged closer, his voice cautious. “Alex, there’s a girl waiting for you downstairs. It’s Quinn.” I was listening to music. Hearing him, I replied, “Got it, thanks.” I picked up my phone and messaged Quinn directly: [Go away. Don’t be a nuisance.] Message sent. I flipped my phone face down on the desk. My roommate stood there, hesitating for a long moment, then, as if gathering great courage, spoke softly. “Alex, my sister… she’s liked you for a long time, since freshman year. You’re so handsome, you don’t have to just focus on one person. Wouldn’t it be good to look at others?” His sister, Willow. The only person in school who dared to openly defy me, who I’d pushed back against countless times, and who still wouldn’t back down—she liked me? That was even more laughable than Quinn’s explanations. I didn’t respond. The sky outside gradually darkened. Evening study hall ended at nine. It was now 11:50—a full three hours. My phone vibrated countless times on the desk. Quinn’s messages popped up one after another, but I didn’t look at a single one. Ten minutes left until the dorm gates closed. If Quinn didn’t leave soon, she’d be stuck outside all night. The screen suddenly lit up. The caller ID was “Mrs. Davis.” Quinn’s mom, widowed years ago, raised her alone and always treated me like her own son. Every time I went to their place, she’d make all my favorite foods, always saying it was her blessing that Quinn stayed with me. I sighed, finally picking up, my voice softening a bit. “Mrs. Davis.” “Alex,” Mrs. Davis’s voice was anxious. “Quinn has been standing downstairs for almost three hours. It’s so cold out. Can you please go see her? I’m begging you.” “…I understand.” I grabbed my jacket and headed downstairs. Quinn stood under the streetlamp, her voice terribly hoarse, laced with profound hurt. “Alex, you finally came to see me.” “This afternoon, when I met Leo, I really just wanted to make things clear, to tell him to stop overthinking and to stop meddling in our business.” “I was protecting him not out of favoritism, but because I was afraid he’d be manipulative, and turn around to spread rumors in class or at home, ruining your reputation and making things even harder for you.” “I know you hit me because you were hurt, because for so many years only I stood by you, and I let you down. I don’t blame you, not one bit. I only feel for you…” As she spoke, her voice choked up, and the tears in her eyes finally spilled over. The girl’s disheveled vulnerability was laid bare before me. She reached out, gently tugging at my sleeve. “Alex, could you just… give me a hug? Just one, and I’ll go straight home, I won’t bother you.” The figure who protected me at seven, the white bellflowers she gave me at seventeen, her question “Are you hurt?” when I broke the jade pendant… All my sharpness, in that moment, softened for an instant. I didn’t push her away. Quinn immediately stepped forward, gently embracing me, holding on tightly, sobbing into my shoulder. “Don’t leave me… please.” After only a few seconds, I gently pushed her away. “Go back. The gates are closing.” Quinn reluctantly let go, her eyes red, nodding and running towards the school gate, looking back every few steps. I turned around, ready to head back to the dorm. A tall figure suddenly emerged from the shadows nearby, blocking my path. It was Willow. I raised an eyebrow. “Good dogs don’t block the road.” Willow scoffed, retorting, “And you’re too blind to know what you’re looking at.” She didn’t say anything else, just handed her phone to me. The screen was lit. A clear photo, taken just moments ago. In the blind spot by the corner of the dorm building, where I couldn’t see. Quinn was tightly embracing Leo, kissing him with deep, frantic passion. Leo returned the kiss, one hand clasped around her waist, the other cradling the back of her neck, docile and dependent. There was no trace of a man who had been rejected. 5 Back in my dorm, I blocked and deleted all of Quinn’s contact information. Only six months until graduation. No matter how much of a jerk I, Alex, might be, no matter how arrogant, I wouldn’t waste what little time I had left on someone who was full of lies and playing both sides. As dawn broke, I got myself ready and walked into the school building as usual. But today, it felt like I’d gone back a few years. In the hallway, many eyes were on me, whispering. “That’s him, Alex. I heard he strung Quinn along for ten years, treated her like a dog, and now he still won’t let go, even trying to steal his own brother’s girlfriend.” “Not just that. Someone saw him actively hugging Quinn downstairs by the dorm yesterday, totally clinging to her.” “I never liked him. He just uses his looks to mess with girls. I heard he used to constantly steal his brother’s things. It’s disgusting. Why hasn’t he been expelled yet…” And then there were the rumors about my chaotic personal life, implying I’d been with countless people. Every word was too filthy to even hear. Just like before. My freshman year, Leo had a crush on a girl in our class. She casually complimented me, saying, “He’s so handsome.” Leo immediately burst into tears, telling our family and classmates that I deliberately seduced her, that I used my looks to steal his things. My family, without asking any questions, pointed fingers at me, calling me inconsiderate, selfish, and malicious. I got into a fight with the person who spread those rumors about me, beating him unconscious, my eyes blazing. The school wanted to discipline me, and my family, because of Leo, didn’t care. I was driven to the rooftop, wanting to jump and end it all. It was Quinn who rushed up like a madwoman, clinging to my waist, pulling me back. She knelt on the ground, trembling all over, her eyes red as she screamed, “Alex, don’t you dare die! I believe you, I’ll always believe you! Everyone else can doubt you, but I won’t! If anyone dares to say a bad word about you, I’ll fight them to the death!” She ended up taking a disciplinary action for me, and helped me explain to classmates and mend relationships. But now? Quinn stood at the classroom door, for the first time openly by Leo’s side. Willow walked past, leisurely remarking, “Are you waiting for Quinn to stand up like she did back then and say, ‘He’s not like that’?” I didn’t speak, just walked step by step to Quinn, my gaze calm. “Quinn, I’ll only ask you one thing.” “You were with a boyfriend while still clinging to me, right?” A flicker of struggle crossed Quinn’s eyes. The person she had once staked her entire youth on believing stood before her, tears welling in her eyes. But in the end, she only said: “No.” “You were the one clinging to me, it has nothing to do with Leo.” The entire room erupted in whispers.

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The bewildered stare of the immigration officer pierced me like a physical blow. Under the sterile fluorescent lights, the computer screen facing me displayed Kelly’s legal spouse. The name staring back at me was Paul. “Sir, are you sure you didn’t make a mistake on this form?” That single question dropped the floor out from under me. The chill of the air conditioning suddenly felt like a plunge into a frozen lake. So, for the past five years, not only had I been waiting in vain for my Green Card, but even my identity as her husband had been a complete lie. Five years ago, I gave up everything to follow Kelly across the ocean, driven by nothing but blind love. Time and time again, my residency applications were met with endless delays and rejections. Yet Paul, the so-called helpless younger brother crashing in our guest room, secured his permanent residency in barely three months. I only found out later that Kelly had personally hired a top-tier immigration lawyer to expedite his case. When my disappointment finally boiled over and I packed my bags to fly back home, Kelly panicked. She wrapped her arms around me, her tears soaking through my shirt. “Noah, you are my husband. Getting your papers is just a matter of time.” Then she looked up at me with those pleading eyes. “But Ollie is different. He has no one here. Without his papers, he could be deported at any minute. Please, just stay. Do it for me?” Like a fool, I let her tears anchor me down once again. 1 I didn’t go back to the house we shared. Instead, I headed straight to the airport terminal. Right before I reached the departure gates, my phone vibrated. It was a text from her: “Stop throwing a tantrum. Come home.” But Kelly, we hadn’t had a home in a very long time. The officer behind the glass tapped her pen, thinking I hadn’t heard her. “Sir, you might want to double-check your documents.” Her voice pulled me back to reality. I slowly slid the paperwork off the counter, forcing a stiff, polite smile. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you for your time.” I stood in the corridor for a long moment, my finger hovering over Kelly’s contact. Instinct told me to call her, to demand an explanation, to scream until my throat gave out. The phone rang endlessly. When the line finally clicked open, it wasn’t Kelly’s voice. “Hey man, Kelly is in the middle of a board meeting right now,” Paul’s voice floated through the speaker, dripping with a sickening sweetness. “Did you need something? You can tell me, and I’ll pass the message along. Though, unless you’re out of groceries, I doubt it’s an emergency.” “We’re going over a massive merger here. You’re just a stay-at-home guy, Noah. Let the adults handle the real work.” His words were laced with poison, striking so deep I couldn’t form a single syllable. In the background, I heard Kelly’s muffled voice asking who was on the line. Paul let out a soft, dismissive chuckle. “Nobody important. Just a spam call.” “Focus on the contracts,” she replied. The call abruptly disconnected. I stared at the blackening screen of my phone. A single tear broke free, splashing against the glass. But the crying didn’t last. A hollow, bitter laugh escaped my throat, echoing in the crowded terminal. Looking back, none of this was genuinely surprising. Kelly and Paul grew up on the same street. They were each other’s first loves. I knew all of this before I even put a ring on her finger. But Kelly had held my hands, her gaze burning with absolute sincerity. “That belongs to the past, Noah. You are the only man I love now.” And I swallowed the lie whole. Not long after we moved to the States, Paul magically got a job transfer to the same city. Kelly played the anxious caretaker perfectly. “He’s all alone in a foreign country, Noah. I can’t sleep knowing he’s out there fending for himself.” Just like that, Paul moved into our home, taking up space like he owned the place. Months later, a convenient career change landed him the role of Kelly’s personal assistant. Anyone with eyes could see the boundaries blurring. But Kelly just brushed my chin and whispered, “He’s just like a little brother to me. Stop overthinking.” And so I did. I covered my eyes, plugged my ears, and played the role of the devoted partner. Right before I left my home country, my mother had watched me pack. She didn’t try to stop me. She just offered a tired, knowing smile. “You’re young, Noah. I won’t stop you because you won’t listen anyway. But you’ll understand eventually. A man who relies on someone else with his palms facing up will lose everything the second they decide to stop giving.” “No man who shrinks himself just to keep a house ever gets a happy ending.” I was young, arrogant, and drunk on romance. I believed love conquered logic. I refused a single dime from my family, crossed the Atlantic with nothing but passion, and threw myself into a world where I didn’t even speak the local slang. I bled for five years to build a life for her. And when I finally turned around, the woman I did it all for had already walked away. Only now did my mother’s words ring with devastating clarity. Without a second thought, I opened the airline app and booked the next available flight out. Tonight. Five years was enough. I didn’t have another five years to waste on a ghost. Just as the payment confirmation popped up, an incoming call overtook the screen. Kelly. “Noah, I was in a meeting. What’s going on?” “Are you at the office? I need to see you right now.” Kelly’s tone shifted, sounding instantly burdened. “Right now? That’s going to be tricky. I have a dinner with clients tonight. If nobody is dying, we can talk when I get home…” “I’m not waiting.” My voice was sharp, cutting through her excuses. Even Kelly paused, caught off guard by a tone I had never used with her. I was always the understanding one, the compromising one. She sighed heavily. “Are you still throwing a fit about the residency papers? I told you, you are my legal partner. Getting your status fixed is just a matter of time. Besides, it’s not like you need to work anyway. Why are you obsessing over a piece of plastic?” “Noah, I’m taking care of you.” She had fed me that line a thousand times to make me feel secure. Now, it just sounded like a sick joke. Taking care of a man who wasn’t even legally her husband? What did that make me? A kept man? A dirty little secret? I didn’t bother spelling it out over the phone. I just dropped the words, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” and hung up. Some truths needed to be spoken to her face. I rarely visited her firm. I didn’t understand corporate finance, and I never wanted to be a distraction. Because of my absence, the receptionist had to verify my identity for ten minutes before finally pointing me toward the executive suites. When I reached her door, I heard voices. Her inner circle, the wealthy expat crowd she loved to run with. “Come on, Kelly,” a slick, teasing voice drifted through the wood. “When are you and Ollie finally making it official? I’ve got my wedding gift picked out already.” Another chimed in. “Seriously, you two have been legally hitched for five years now. You should have kids running around by now. Why keep playing hide and seek?” Paul’s voice joined the chorus, dripping with fake modesty. “Guys, stop it. Kelly only married me on paper so I wouldn’t get deported.” “If Noah hears you guys talking like this, he’s going to get the wrong idea.” The instigator didn’t miss a beat. “Let him get the wrong idea. If Kelly wasn’t funding his entire existence, he’d be kicked out of the country tomorrow. It’s not like he contributes to the firm like you do, Ollie. He just cooks and cleans. He’s a glorified maid.” A low chuckle followed. “If I were you, Kelly, I’d turn the fake marriage into a real one. Keep Ollie. Give the maid a severance check and put him on a plane back home.” My hand froze on the doorknob. Inside and out, everyone was waiting for her answer. It sounded like she was genuinely considering it. After a heavy silence, she let out a careless laugh. “Alright, that’s enough. You’re embarrassing Ollie.” “As for the guy at home… he’s been acting up lately. I’ll buy him something nice to quiet him down. If that doesn’t work, whatever. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” The implication of “whatever” hung heavily in the air. As knowing laughter erupted inside, I didn’t stand there playing the tragic victim. I turned the handle and pushed the door wide open. The laughter died instantly. Several people lounging around the sleek office snapped their heads toward the doorway, their expressions freezing in horror. Kelly turned. The smirk vanished from her lips, replaced by pure shock. “Noah? How did you…” She recovered quickly, striding toward me with frantic steps. “You got here so fast. Didn’t I tell you to call me from the lobby so I could come down?” I didn’t say a word. I just looked at her. My silence gnawed at her composure. She swallowed hard, testing the waters. “Did you… hear any of that?” “We were just messing around. It’s just office banter, Noah. I promise, next month, I will personally make sure your residency application goes through.” I remained completely silent. My eyes moved past her, slowly taking in the faces of the people who had just been laughing at my expense. After a long minute, I spoke. My voice was steady, void of any emotion. “Don’t bother. Clearly, I chose a bad time to drop by. I didn’t mean to interrupt your little brainstorming session.” “If you’re so busy, we’ll leave it at that.” I had heard enough. Confronting her about the marriage fraud in front of her sycophants wouldn’t give me closure. It would only make me look like a pathetic, jealous joke. I wasn’t going to humiliate myself any further. My flight was leaving tonight. All I wanted was to pack my essential documents and walk out of her life forever. But as I turned to leave, a hand clamped down on my sleeve. Paul. “Noah, wait. Please don’t leave. It’s not what it looks like.” “Kelly and I only got married for the paperwork. Please, I’m begging you, don’t be mad at her because of me.” My brow furrowed in utter disgust. The sheer audacity of him playing the peacemaker when I was the one being ripped apart made my blood boil. I looked down at him with ice in my veins. “If you really cared about my feelings, you would let go of my arm.” Instead of letting go, Paul gripped the fabric tighter, his knuckles turning white. “No. I won’t let go until you forgive us. I won’t let you ruin things with Kelly.” He buckled his knees, acting as if he was about to drop to the floor in repentance. “Noah, please. Just forgive her. I swear to you, the second my status is permanent, I will sign the divorce papers. I swear.” His pathetic display drew sympathetic looks from the crowd, and their stares turned toward me, judging me for being so cruel to the poor, helpless assistant. Even the most patient man has a breaking point. Facing this shameless manipulation, the anger finally snapped loose. “Drop the act.” “Your mother was a parasite who used her friendship to crawl into my father’s bed. And look at you. You’re doing the exact same thing, using the ‘little brother’ routine to crawl into Kelly’s. And now you want my forgiveness?” “What, do you share the family trait? You love destroying homes but still demand a round of applause?” The words hit their mark. Paul gasped, and Kelly’s protective instincts flared. She stepped between us, her eyes blazing with fury. “That is enough.” “Watch your mouth, Noah. If we have a problem, we handle it behind closed doors at home. Stop acting like a hysterical lunatic in front of my team. You’re making a fool of yourself.” Seeing her instinctively shield him extinguished the very last ember of hope in my chest. I was completely dead inside. I couldn’t even summon the energy to scream at her. I simply yanked my arm back to free my sleeve from Paul’s suffocating grip. I didn’t even pull hard. “Ah.” Paul let out a theatrical shriek. He threw himself backward, collapsing toward the leather sofa and deliberately grazing his hip against the sharp corner of the glass coffee table. He clutched his side, his face instantly draining of color as he groaned in agony. “It hurts… God, it hurts.” Before I could even process the performance, a harsh shove sent me stumbling backward. Kelly stood over him, glaring at me like I was a monster. “Are you out of your damn mind, Noah?” “Ollie was just trying to fix things, and you get violent?” I looked at her, truly seeing the stranger she had become. “You were standing right there. You saw how little force I used. Are you blind?” “How do you have the nerve to stand there and lecture me about morals?” But Kelly was blinded by rage, and her words became daggers designed to inflict maximum pain. “So what if you didn’t push him hard? Let me remind you of something, Noah.” “I am the one who has paid for your life for the last five years.” “As of this second, your credit cards are frozen. Your access code to the house is revoked. Without me funding your life, you are nothing but a stray dog in this city.” She didn’t spare me another glance. She knelt down, wrapping her arms around a whimpering Paul to help him stand. She barked at her stunned coworkers. “Don’t just stand there. Get the car. We’re taking him to the ER right now.” The room emptied in a chaotic rush. I was left completely alone in the sprawling office, rubbing my aching shoulder where she had shoved me. A quiet, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. I shook my head. Look at you, Noah. This is what you get for trading your youth and your pride for love. It was better this way. There was nothing left to hold onto. I knew Kelly well. When she made a threat, she followed through. I didn’t even care to go back to the house to pack clothes. If she claimed she bought everything for me, taking those things would only make me feel filthy. Thankfully, I had brought my passport and essential IDs to the immigration office that morning. That was all I needed to vanish. I walked out of the building, hailed a cab, and told the driver to take me straight to the airport. Deep down, Kelly probably suspected Paul was faking it. But she couldn’t resist the urge to punish me. Her friends had fed her ego. She had financed a luxurious life for me, so in her mind, I owed her absolute obedience. Even if she crossed a line, she expected me to accept a half-hearted apology and sweep it under the rug. Because she was the one paying the bills. With that twisted logic in her head, she froze the cards and locked the smart home system. An hour later, a text buzzed on my phone. “Do you realize you’re out of line yet?” “Get to the hospital and apologize to Ollie. Do that, and I’ll consider letting this go.” But Kelly forgot one crucial detail. I had a family, a degree, and friends back home. I wasn’t some stray begging for scraps. I gave up my world because I loved her. Reading that message, I didn’t feel anger. I just felt a profound sense of comedy. I glanced at the screen, swiped the notification away, and didn’t reply. Three hours passed. Night fell completely over the city. My silence was highly unusual. Without legal status, I didn’t have a personal bank account here. The streets of this city were notoriously dangerous after dark, and I rarely carried more than fifty dollars in cash. I couldn’t even afford a motel room. Kelly must have realized that pushing me into the streets at night wasn’t a game to play. Unable to shake her anxiety, she texted me again five hours later. “I unlocked the doors and the cards. Go home.” “Don’t wander around outside, it’s not safe. We’ll sit down and talk like adults when I get back.” I didn’t answer. Another hour ticked by. Kelly checked the banking app. Zero transactions on my card. She pulled up the security cameras at the front door. The porch had been empty since the afternoon. Wandering the streets past midnight with no money, no car, and no destination. A cold spike of panic finally pierced Kelly’s arrogance. She began pacing the hospital corridor, her thumb hovering over the screen, typing and deleting repeatedly. Finally, she sent one last message. “Stop this. Come home.” I didn’t reply to that one either. I was standing at the boarding gate. I read the text, calmly blocked her number, deleted her contact, and powered down the device. I stepped into the cabin without a single backward glance. As the plane thundered down the runway and lifted into the night sky, I watched the glittering grid of the city shrink into nothingness. There were no tears. There was no regret. There was only the sweet release of freedom. Goodbye, Kelly. Let’s never cross paths again. Back at the hospital, my absolute silence was driving Kelly insane. She finally swallowed her pride and prepared to call me, but her phone lit up first. It was Sarah, a mutual friend from our university days. “Hey babe, I just landed at the airport. I wanted to surprise you guys, so I didn’t ask for a ride. You promised you and Noah were going to show me around the city, right?” “But the weirdest thing just happened. I swear I just saw Noah at the international terminal. He was boarding a flight back home.” “Did he leave the country?”

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I was in the middle of a performance review at the office when I received news of my husband’s death. My boss patted my shoulder, telling me to accept my loss with grace. I held myself together, gave a shaky salute, and then went home. Once there, the delivery guy called, saying he had a package that required my signature. The moment I opened the box, I froze. Inside were two pairs of underwear, stained with a milky white substance, and at the bottom of the box, a dozen used condoms. There was also a note that read: “Mrs. Peterson, I’ve taken Mr. Peterson for myself.” Another note said: “Afraid you’d be too lonely, so I mailed you some of Mr. Peterson’s things. No need to thank me, darling.” … So that’s how he “sacrificed” himself. I sat in the living room for three hours, numb. I didn’t go to the funeral home to mourn. Instead, I printed out documents, preparing to get a death certificate. No matter what, legally, I needed to confirm my husband’s death today. I walked into Human Resources. The door behind me clanged shut, cutting off the sunlight from outside. “Ms. Quan.” A young administrator greeted me. She probably hadn’t handled a case like mine before. “My… my condolences.” I nodded at her, saying nothing. My condolences? I wanted to beat drums and blow trumpets, celebrating his ultimate demise. I walked straight to the service window, pulled the documents from my briefcase, and placed them on the counter. “Hello, I’m here to process the death certificate for my husband, Commander Peterson.” A woman in her fifties, wearing reading glasses, sat behind the window. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a flicker of pity. She probably mistook me for a grieving spouse who was abnormally calm due to shock. Good. Saved me the trouble of acting. The office was quiet. Those around us pretended to be busy, but their ears were probably perked up like antennae. “Ms. Quan,” “Commander Peterson… he was a hero to us. The organization will not forget his contributions, nor will it neglect the family of a hero.” I forced a smile. “Thank you, I understand. Please, just process it according to procedure.” She sighed, said no more, and began typing on her computer. I stood there, my gaze falling on my blurry reflection in the window glass. A faint scar above my eyebrow shimmered under the light. This face had been with Commander Peterson from his humble beginnings to his decorated achievements. Everyone said I was his virtuous wife, his strongest pillar of support. They were right. Without me, Commander Peterson was nothing. “Here, family signature.” The officer handed me a form and a pen. I took the pen and saw the space after “Spouse,” where my name was required. That word, now, wasn’t an identity; it was a qualification. The qualification to legally take control of all his assets, the qualification to dismantle all his lies, the admission ticket to send him to hell. My pen pressed hard, signing “Evelyn Quan.” The force was so great it almost tore through the paper. The officer retrieved the form, picked up a red stamp, and forcefully pressed it onto the final certificate. “Thud!” She handed the paper with the crimson stamp, along with the subsidy application form, through the window. “Ms. Quan, the paperwork is done.” I took the paper, folded it, and tucked it into the closest pocket near my chest. That spot, once, was where I kept photos of us together. “Thank you.” I said, then turned and left. Pushing open the heavy door, blinding sunlight rushed in. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. “Run a check on an account for me,” My voice was cold as ice, “Commander Peterson’s special offshore account. I need all his financial transactions from the past year, not a single one missing.” The certificate with the red stamp hadn’t even warmed in my pocket when the call came back. “Ev, I found it.” “Commander Peterson’s account has thirty-seven procurement records in the past year, but one three-million-dollar fund bypassed regular procedures and went directly into an offshore anonymous account.” “Can it be traced?” “No,” She answered bluntly, “The recipient is a top expert. All paths have been destroyed. To trace it, we’d have to start from the original paper documents—see who signed off and which approval channel it went through.” “Got it, thanks.” Early the next morning, I put on my work uniform and went straight to the archives. The archives had a scent of old paper and dust, making my nose itch. The archivist saw me and immediately stood up from her chair. “Ms. Quan, what brings you here? You could have just called, and I would have brought it to you.” “I’m here to find something.” I was concise. “What exactly?” “All files from Commander Peterson’s last mission, including logistics and supply requisitions.” The archivist’s expression froze. She wrung her hands. “Ms. Quan, this… this isn’t allowed. Mission files, especially those involving fatalities, are sealed. As family, you should avoid any appearance of impropriety…” I ignored her “rules,” walked past her, and headed for the row of metal cabinets. From memory, I quickly located the section marked “Highly Classified.” My hand rested on the handle of one of the cabinets, about to pull it open. “Ms. Quan.” I turned. A ranking officer in uniform stood not far away, wearing gold-rimmed glasses. Her eyes behind the lenses were calm and sharp, fixed on me. She also held a file folder, apparently there to check documents herself. I didn’t know her. “Can I help you?” I asked. She pushed up her glasses, walked over, and stopped in front of me, her gaze falling on the metal cabinet by my hand. “According to regulations, the files for this mission have been sealed. Access requires special authorization from a superior officer.” Her voice, like her demeanor, was devoid of warmth, strictly business. I released the handle, turning to her, and forced a weary smile befitting a “grieving widow.” “My apologies, I just… wanted to look at the records of his last mission again. I want to know what he went through in his final moments.” The excuse was flawless, full of emotion, enough to silence anyone with a shred of sympathy. She quietly watched me for a few seconds. Then, she smiled too. “Is that so?” She softly countered, then leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice to a volume only we could hear. “I thought Ms. Quan would be more interested in the amount of the death benefits.” I stared into her eyes behind the lenses. There was no sympathy there, only scrutiny and probing. I deepened my feigned weariness, my voice taking on a hint of offended hoarseness. “Ma’am, my husband just died, his body barely cold. I’m just a widow wanting to know what he last experienced. As for the death benefits,” I paused, looking directly at her, “That’s an honor he earned with his life. Of course I care. What, is there a problem with that?” She pushed up her glasses, not pursuing the topic. Instead, she stepped back half a pace. “My condolences. But regulations are regulations, Ms. Quan. Without authorization, no one can see them.” “The memorial service is about to begin.” The archivist behind her scurried over, as if she’d found a savior. “Ms. Quan, please hurry. The senior officers have all arrived. As family, you can’t be late!” I took one last look at the metal cabinet, then turned and left. Alright, rules, huh? I love playing by the rules. Commander Peterson’s memorial service was of high stature. The auditorium was packed, a sea of dark uniforms. His enlarged black-and-white photo hung prominently in the center, showing him in his crisp uniform. I sat in the very middle of the first row, holding his portrait. The ceremony proceeded, with speeches from senior officers and eulogies from comrades. Just then, a small commotion erupted at the back of the auditorium. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Barbie Seiple. She had indeed arrived, and with quite a show. Two male dancers from her troupe flanked her, helping her along. She wore a pristine white performance gown, starkly conspicuous amidst the sea of uniforms. Her innocent face was drenched in tears, her lips bitten pale, as if a gust of wind could topple her. Well, well, someone might think the memorial was being held for her. She was supported as she walked, step by step, her destination clear—the empty seat next to me. That seat was reserved for the closest family. She wanted to sit there. All eyes in the auditorium converged on us. This was getting interesting. She stopped beside me, her voice choked with sobs. “Mrs. Peterson… I’m so sorry, I’m late… I… I just couldn’t stand when I heard the news about Commander Peterson…” As she spoke, her knees buckled, and she began to sway towards me. I didn’t move. Just as she was about to lean on my shoulder, ready to perform a melodramatic scene of “we both loved him, let’s comfort each other,” I, holding his portrait, stood up. I turned to her, my movements slow, my gaze traveling from her tear-swollen eyes to her white dress, utterly inappropriate for the occasion. “Which unit are you with?” I spoke, my voice low, yet it cut like a cold blade. She froze, her sobbing pausing for half a second. “I’m… Barbie Seiple from the dance troupe. Commander Peterson, he…” “Madam.” I cut her off, raising my voice slightly, enough for the senior officers in the first three rows to hear clearly. “A memorial service is a solemn and respectful occasion, with explicit dress code requirements. Your attire is inappropriate.” I took a step forward, holding Commander Peterson’s portrait, blocking her view of the officers. “Furthermore, this is the family section.” I looked at her, enunciating each word. “Your place is with your unit, in the back. Now, please return to where you belong.” Barbie’s face instantly went from ashen to crimson, then back to ashen. She stood there, like a clown stripped naked in public. She probably thought I would argue, make a scene, or at least silently condone her performance for sympathy. A mere clown. I didn’t even need to lift a finger. Rules and discipline would clearly tell her—she didn’t belong. The memorial service ended, and I returned home with Commander Peterson’s portrait. The house was empty, no different from when he was away on assignment, but I knew this time, he wouldn’t be coming back. At least, not as my husband. They wouldn’t let me see the files? No problem. Rules are rigid; people are flexible. As an information warfare expert in a specialized unit, I had plenty of ways to see what I wanted to see. I opened a specially modified laptop, bypassing conventional paths, and directly entered the Southern Command’s mission database. The entire process took less than ten minutes. Commander Peterson was a logistics officer; he couldn’t have imagined that his wife could so easily tear through his proudly built firewall. All the data about his last mission unfolded before me, entry by entry. Mission brief, travel routes, logistical supply requests, casualty reports. Everything looked flawless. I pulled up all associated information preceding the mission’s initiation. An inconspicuous dynamic brief was retrieved from the depths of the data. The brief stated that a border patrol unit had detected signs of small-scale hostile activity, urgently requiring a batch of specialized communication equipment. It was this very brief that directly led to Commander Peterson’s “perilous” transport mission. The problem was, the source of this brief was tagged “Snow Wolf Assault Team.” The Snow Wolf Assault Team was my former unit. During that period, they were not conducting missions in that region at all. The records were clear: they were undergoing wilderness survival training in another jungle, three hundred kilometers away. I magnified the digital signature of the message file. Beneath layers of encrypted code, I found the original issuance key. The key belonged to Commander Peterson. He had forged a front-line message. Using the name of my unit, he forged a message significant enough to mobilize an entire transport echelon. This wasn’t simple greed, not a minor financial scheme. This was a treasonous felony that could shake the very foundations of the organization. If confirmed, a special tribunal would make him regret ever being born. So this was his true Achilles’ heel. Faking his death to escape, embezzling funds—these were just the surface. What he truly wanted to hide was this. I leaned back in my chair, my heart pounding in my chest. I thought I was just catching a cheating spouse; I never expected to stumble upon a bomb capable of destroying an entire unit. Just then, my personal phone “pinged.” It was a multimedia message from an unknown number. I tapped to open it. Azure skies, turquoise waters, white sandy beach chairs, and Barbie, in a bikini, intimately nestled in Commander Peterson’s arms. Commander Peterson held her, a smile on his face I had never seen before. The background of the photo was a locally distinctive seven-star sail-shaped hotel. Below the photo, a line of text read: [Mrs. Peterson, Commander Peterson would rather fake his death than not be with me.] [You had him for so many years; now he’s mine.] I looked at that foolish, triumphant face and suddenly laughed. The heavens truly helped me. I was racking my brain trying to find them, and they delivered their address right to my doorstep. I put down my phone, picked up another encrypted device, and dialed the number of a distant cousin of Barbie’s from her hometown. I had arranged to get it earlier. “Hello, who is this?” “Hello, I’m from the Family Welfare Committee. Regarding Barbie Seiple’s application for special medical assistance for a family genetic illness, we need family members to verify the situation.” “What? What illness?” The woman on the other end of the phone was clearly bewildered. “Our family has been as strong as oxen for generations. We don’t have any genetic illnesses!” I hung up. Alright, all done. Evidence of betrayal, hidden location, motive for fraud. I looked at everything spread out on the table—the forged message, the boastful photo on my phone, and that phrase I’d just written down: “Our family doesn’t have any genetic illness.” Commander Peterson, Barbie Seiple. You’re in for a treat. I arrived at the Tribunal without an appointment. The guard at the gate stopped me. I showed the faint scar above my eyebrow and handed over my ID. “Special Information Unit, Evelyn Quan. I need to see Director Rogers.” The guard glanced at my ID, then at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he quickly saluted and let me pass. I walked straight to Director Rogers’s office door; it wasn’t fully closed. I didn’t knock, just pushed the door open and walked in. Director Rogers looked up, and seeing me, he clearly paused. “Ms. Quan,” he pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses. “My condolences.” I took an encrypted USB drive and several paper documents from my briefcase. “Director Rogers, you said last time that everything is based on evidence.” “This is the intelligence related to Commander Peterson’s last mission.” I pushed the forged border message across the table to him. “Issued under the name of the Snow Wolf Assault Team, signed with Commander Peterson’s encryption key. During that time, my unit was training three hundred kilometers away. This is their complete operational log.” Director Rogers’s gaze fell on the document. He scanned it quickly, then picked it up, examining it carefully. His brow furrowed progressively. I didn’t give him much time to process, plugging the USB drive into his computer. “This is the financial flow from Commander Peterson’s logistics account, ultimately leading to an offshore anonymous account. Totaling nine million seven hundred and twenty thousand.” Next, I pushed the printed copy of the multimedia message photo across. “This is Commander Peterson and Barbie Seiple, two days ago at the Burj Al Arab in Dubai. He’s not dead.” Finally, I placed a summarized transcript of a phone call. “This is my conversation with Barbie Seiple’s relatives from her hometown. Her family comes from three generations of poor farmers, all in good health. No one knows anything about a ‘family genetic illness.’” I finished speaking. The office was dead silent. Director Rogers’s fingers still clutched the forged message, his knuckles white from the pressure. He finished reviewing everything without a word. “Forging military intelligence, faking his death to escape, embezzling public funds, and desertion.” He summarized, word for word, “Ms. Quan, your husband has committed treason.” “Ex-husband,” I corrected him, “I need you to bring him back to face trial in a special tribunal.” “This isn’t your ‘need,’ Ms. Quan.” Director Rogers’s voice was gravely serious. “This is my responsibility, and the responsibility of this uniform I wear. Anyone who defiles its honor must pay the price.” He stood up, walked to me, saluted, and spoke solemnly: “Thank you, Evelyn Quan. You have upheld the dignity of this uniform.” With that, he turned back to his desk and picked up the red encrypted phone. His voice was devoid of any personal emotion, only the resolute and cold tone of command. “Connect me to Sector Two Intelligence. I need to speak directly with Deputy Director Vance.” The call connected quickly. “Director Vance, this is Director Rogers. I’ve uncovered a Level One security incident here and require your department to immediately initiate an international fugitive recovery procedure. Target: Commander Peterson. Yes, the combat hero who just ‘sacrificed’ himself.”

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1 Five days. That was all before this decade-long system quest finally ended. When my wife arrived with her assistant to sign me out, orderlies were pinning me to the floor. Outside, my six-year-old daughter Elle looked at me with disgust. “He’s useless. Let’s take him back as a guard dog.” She added, “Uncle Rowan is Ivy League. He deserves you more than this trash.” Valerie stepped protectively in front of them, expecting an outburst like before. But I just leaned on my bad leg, stood, and nodded calmly. After leaving, I gave her the divorce papers and even surrendered the master bedroom. Once, Elle wished for a new dad on her birthday. I immediately signed emancipation papers. When Rowan tossed intimate photos on the table to provoke me, I just handed him a foil packet. In the bedroom, Valerie demanded angrily how long I’d keep this up. I only left a bottle of lubricant on the nightstand. She was wrong. I wasn’t acting. I just didn’t want either of them anymore. … Valerie threw the items on the nightstand right at my face, her hands covered in fresh hickeys. “Silas, if you want to play the saint, leave the crystal pendant. Rowan had a shock today and he needs it to calm his nerves.” That crystal pendant was the only heirloom my grandmother left me. I had treasured it with my life. Valerie knew that better than anyone. She stared at me with absolute certainty, waiting for me to fall to my knees and beg for my dignity like I always did. Instead, I simply raised my hand, unclasped the chain, and placed the pendant directly into Rowan’s palm. “Is there anything else you want? Ask for it all at once,” I said softly. I was leaving soon anyway. I wouldn’t be taking a single thing from this place. Valerie stared at me in sheer disbelief, a flicker of anger crossing her eyes. “Silas, you better not regret this.” She thought I was throwing a tantrum, playing hard to get to force her to care. She had forgotten, but the memory was burned into my skin. Two years ago, when I tried to fight Rowan for this exact pendant, she ordered her men to strip me naked. I was forced to kneel in the freezing snow, acting as a live target for their archery practice. The biting humiliation of that day still made my chest ache. I lowered my head in submission and turned to leave. Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Rowan had deliberately crushed the crystal pendant in his palm. Blood welled up instantly. I turned around, about to call for the family doctor. Before I could speak, an arrow slammed brutally into my shoulder. I staggered, catching myself against the wall. Before I could even process the pain, Valerie shoved me aside to get to Rowan. She carefully cradled his hand, frantically yelling for the doctor to hurry. In the sudden quiet of the room, my precocious daughter stood there, her bow still raised and aimed directly at me. Her face was twisted in disgust. “You make Uncle Rowan unhappy the second you get back. I have to teach you a lesson.” “You piece of filth, why didn’t you just die in the asylum? Having a dad like you makes me…” “Elle!” Valerie snapped, cutting off her cold words. Valerie paused her steps, glanced back at me for a split second, then turned and hurried downstairs. Leaning against her shoulder, Rowan shot me a triumphant smirk. Everyone in our social circle knew Elle was my entire world. But this time, I just calmly pressed a hand over my bleeding shoulder. My voice was completely dead. “You haven’t been my daughter for a long time.” Under Elle’s resentful glare, I placed the signed disownment papers on the table. Then I quietly looked at the child I had once poured my heart and soul into. Elle was remarkably precocious, carrying herself with the rigid solemnity of a miniature adult. Her only real passion was archery. To support her, I had scoured the country for elite coaches and enrolled her in the most prestigious club. When she was four, she used to hold up her little training bow, her eyes shining with absolute adoration. “Daddy, when I master archery, I’m going to protect you.” Yet, the very first time she drew blood with a real arrow, it was aimed straight at my heart. Thankfully, I had long stopped expecting anything from her. My lack of reaction seemed to irritate Elle even more. She threw the bow on the floor, ran downstairs, and threw her arms around Rowan. “Don’t cry, Uncle Rowan. I already punished that shameless bad man for you. Are you happy now?” Her voice was sharp and cruel, but I acted like I heard nothing. I just grabbed the first-aid kit from the corner and retreated to the storage room. Behind me, Valerie’s eyes burned into my back. A wave of inexplicable frustration washed over her. A few minutes later, Valerie pushed open the storage room door, her expression complicated. She watched me struggling to clean the wound on my shoulder and instinctively handed me a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Elle is just a kid. Don’t hold it against her.” I leaned away, avoiding her touch, and simply whispered an acknowledgment. Valerie’s hand froze in midair. A heavy silence settled between us before a dark fury twisted her features. “Silas, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” “If you hadn’t acted completely spineless before, why would our daughter treat you like this?” Spineless. I chewed on the word in my head. If she hadn’t brought it up, I would have almost forgotten. Her definition of “spineless” referred to an incident two years ago. She had wanted to give Elle to Rowan to raise, claiming Rowan suffered from severe depression and a child’s company would cure him. I refused with everything I had. The thought of giving my four-year-old daughter to a strange man terrified me. But my wife backed me into a corner. She told me that if I wanted to keep my daughter, I had to make her assistant happy first. For Elle’s sake, I had no choice. That day, Rowan stood over me with a sneer. He ordered me to drop to my knees, crawl over to him like a dog, lick his shoes clean, and bark while calling him “Daddy.” Those few agonizing seconds of utter degradation were recorded and posted online. Overnight, I became the internet’s favorite joke, mocked as a pathetic submissive dog. That same day, Elle watched the video on a phone. The adoration in her eyes warped into pure disgust. She looked at me coldly and said, “You are such an embarrassment.” A faint throb of pain rippled through my chest. I looked at Valerie and pulled a hollow smile. “You’re right. I am spineless.” My complete apathy infuriated Valerie. She slammed the door and stormed out. When she returned, she ordered her guards to grab me by my injured arm and drag me out. I was violently forced down in front of Rowan, my palms pressing directly into the shattered glass on the floor. “Silas, you deliberately gave Rowan a cracked pendant to cut his hand. Do you admit your mistake?” Mistake. Ever since Rowan showed up, I had been constantly apologizing. Even when Rowan shoved my grandmother’s urn into the lake, somehow, it was still my fault. I pressed my bleeding palms against the floor, closed my eyes, and obediently said, “I was wrong,” three times. Then I looked up at Valerie. “Is that enough?” Valerie’s face turned livid. She grabbed my collar. “Don’t give me that tortured martyr look, Silas!” “Don’t think this act is going to make me feel sorry for you!” Her voice trembled slightly at the end. I didn’t argue. I just kept my weight supported on the floor and gently reminded her, “You are holding onto Mr. Rowan with your other hand. Be careful not to hurt him.” Valerie’s eyes went red. She pointed a trembling finger at the door. “Get out! Get the hell out of here!” I nodded, turned around, and started to walk. But before I reached the exit, Rowan whined. “Valerie, you didn’t even avenge me properly. I’m still upset.” Valerie immediately softened, looking back at me while coaxing him. “Then how about we whip him a few times? Will that make you feel better?” Rowan pretended to hesitate. “Is that allowed?” “Of course it is,” Valerie said coldly. “He’s just a watchdog anyway.” A second later, a heavy leather crop lined with sharp metal barbs slashed across my back, tearing away flesh and cloth. I bit down hard on my lip, swallowing every scream, enduring the agony in dead silence. Valerie and Elle lounged on the sofa, watching me with freezing indifference. It wasn’t until Valerie casually glanced down and saw the massive pool of blood spreading beneath me that her face drastically changed. She lunged forward, trying to support my weight. “Why is there so much blood?” In that exact second, the cold, mechanical voice of the System echoed in my mind. [Return portal initializing. Host’s lifespan has three days remaining. System will now formulate a death trajectory.] Valerie and Elle surrounded me in a panic, shouting for the doctor. “Ah!” Rowan suddenly hissed, grabbing his hand. “Babe, my hand hurts so much. I think there’s still a piece of glass in it.” Hearing his whine, Valerie instantly shoved me away. She grabbed Rowan’s coat and ordered the butler to drive them to the hospital immediately. The living room fell dead silent. I lay on the freezing floor, my body covered in lacerations. The blood flowed faster, and my bones felt like they were being pulverized inch by inch. Yet, a slow smile curved my lips. This was wonderful. Only three days left, and I could finally go home. I was jolted awake by a doctor’s heavy sigh. Seeing my eyes open, he visibly relaxed. “Mr. Silas, you need to beg your wife for permission to use painkillers. Digging out these glass shards without numbing agents could kill you in your current condition.” I listened to his warning with a wooden expression and shook my head. “Just dig them out.” I didn’t care about the pain anymore. I only wanted a quick release. After the agonizing procedure, I stumbled out of the clinic room to pay the bill. I accidentally spotted Valerie standing near the entrance. She glanced at my bandages, then picked up a gift bag and walked straight into Rowan’s private ward. As I limped past the cracked door, I heard my daughter’s sweet, fawning voice. “Don’t be mad, Daddy Rowan. When you get out of the hospital, Mommy and I will help you punish that bad man.” Valerie looked toward the hallway, but she only saw my retreating back. When I finally returned to my own sterile room, Valerie was waiting for me with a thunderous expression. “Where have you been?” I raised the medical receipt as my only answer, then leaned against the bed and closed my eyes. The hostility radiating from Valerie spiked. She stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. “What the hell is this attitude, Silas?” “You haven’t been acting right since you got back.” Her voice trembled, carrying a sick kind of desperation. “You were never like this. Why aren’t you fighting me anymore?” “Are you cheating on me? Is that why you don’t care about me or Elle anymore?” All her pent-up paranoia finally erupted into the open. In the heavy silence that followed, a horrific sound pierced the room. It was the sound of my own voice, sobbing and begging for mercy. The noise came from Rowan’s phone. The screen was lit up, broadcasting a video of the sick abuses I had endured while trying to “learn my lesson” in the psychiatric ward. Every single frame was a living nightmare I was terrified to remember. Seeing the blood drain from my face, Rowan put on a mask of fake panic. “Oh no, Valerie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to play this in front of you. My sister was just showing it to me to cheer me up. I forgot to turn it off.” All the blood rushed to my head in a blinding wave. So Valerie knew. She knew everything. She knew I was living worse than an animal for two years. She knew I was being tortured until I begged for death. But in her eyes, my personal hell was nothing more than a funny video to entertain her lover. I stared dead at the woman I had cherished and protected with my life for ten years, desperately searching her eyes for a single shred of guilt. But there was nothing. Only irritation at being caught. A harsh, broken laugh tore from my throat. “Valerie, isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Are you not entertained?” The room spun. Black spots danced across my vision. Valerie instinctively reached out to catch me, but the pure hatred in my eyes made her flinch and snap. “It’s your own fault, Silas! If you hadn’t gone crazy and kicked Rowan into the water back then, I wouldn’t have locked you up. At the end of the day, you brought this on yourself.” Behind her, Rowan smugly fanned the flames. “Looks like you didn’t learn a thing in those two years, Silas.” “Allow me to refresh your memory.” He waved the phone maliciously, then sent the video directly to my younger sister, Sophie, who had just been transferred out of the ICU. Sophie was the only family I had left in this world. The final thread holding my sanity together snapped. I grabbed a surgical scalpel from the medical tray and lunged straight for his chest. Even if I died today, I was dragging him to hell with me. But before the blade could even graze him, Valerie shoved me violently to the floor. Hearing the commotion, Elle rushed into the room. She grabbed an empty IV glass bottle and smashed it directly against my face. “Die, you psycho! Just die!” she shrieked. Through a blinding haze of blood, I looked up. Valerie and Elle stood over me, looking down like I was trash. “Two years in the ward, and you’re still completely toxic, Silas. Trying to murder Rowan right in front of me?” My vision was swimming, but a sense of profound, liberating irony washed over me. I raised an eyebrow, speaking slowly, letting every word slice through the air. “Do you want to know my biggest regret in life, Valerie? It’s meeting you. And spawning that little monster.” Valerie’s face lost all its color. Elle froze, staring at me blankly, unable to comprehend that those words actually came out of my mouth. After a suffocating silence, Elle tightened her jaw and turned away. “Mommy, he still hasn’t learned the rules. You better send him back to that place until he does.” Valerie closed her eyes, her expression hardening into stone. “You’re right. Some people are just born with cheap bones. They need to be broken before they learn.” She pulled out her phone and made a single call. Minutes later, the orderlies from the psychiatric ward marched into the room. The sheer sight of their uniforms triggered violent tremors through my body. Flashbacks of being electrocuted, starved, and humiliated assaulted my brain. I clutched my head, scrambling backward until my back hit the wall. Valerie frowned at my severe trauma response. She stepped forward, trying to pull me into her arms to calm me down, but I shoved her away like she was venomous. “Stay away from me! Don’t touch me!” That rejection shattered the last bit of Valerie’s patience. She rubbed her stinging hand, her eyes darkening as she gestured for the orderlies to tie me up. Drowning in absolute terror, I grabbed Valerie’s wrist. My voice was broken, trembling uncontrollably. “Valerie, please don’t send me back. I’m begging you, please.” “I’ll do whatever you want. If you want me to act crazy, I’ll act crazy. If you want me to apologize, I’ll apologize. Just don’t send me back to that place.” It was the very last time I would ever plead with her. But Rowan simply whispered, “Babe, looking at him is giving me anxiety. Just send him away.” And with those words, Valerie pried my fingers off her wrist, one by one. I looked at her, tears streaming down my face as I laughed. It was always like this. Two years ago, it was the exact same. No matter what I did, I could never outweigh a single sentence from Rowan. It was Rowan who threw my grandmother’s ashes into the lake. I fought back and shoved him into the water. But Valerie refused to listen to a word I said. She threw me in the asylum without blinking. I let out a soft chuckle, dropping my hands, and let the orderlies drag me away without another struggle. In that dark, damp cell, just before the electrocution and humiliation began, the System mercifully blocked my pain receptors. Even so, the next morning, I was dumped back at the front door of our house, barely breathing, like a beaten dog on the verge of death. When I opened my eyes, Valerie was glaring impatiently, tossing a bottle of pills at my feet. “Enough with the act. If you’ve learned the rules, come inside.” The second I stepped through the door, Rowan smiled brightly. “Babe, I want to run a little emotional stability test on Silas.” As he spoke, my sister Sophie, covered in surgical bandages and breathing tubes, was wheeled into the living room by the guards. My heart slammed against my ribs. I tried to run to her, but Rowan’s men forced me to my knees. “Don’t rush the show, Silas. The test is just starting.” Rowan grabbed Sophie by her hair and shoved the phone playing my torture video right into her face. “Since you wouldn’t watch the clip I sent, I’ll just have to show it to you in person.” Sophie struggled frantically, fresh blood seeping through her fresh sutures. “Rowan, he is innocent! Leave him alone!” Seeing the tears streaming down my sister’s face, I panicked and started begging. “Valerie, you promised me! You promised that if I stayed quietly in the ward for two years, you wouldn’t touch Sophie!” But before my words even landed, the piercing, continuous wail of the heart monitor filled the room. I stared in frozen horror. Rowan had yanked Sophie’s life-support tube clean out. “Oops. My hand slipped.” “You animal! You fucking bastard!” I screamed, my eyes completely bloodshot as I thrashed wildly, but the guards held me down like a vice. All I could do was watch my sister take her last, suffocating breath right in front of me. My brain buzzed with static. A sharp, physical tearing sensation erupted in my chest. Just as the grief threatened to crush me, the System’s voice echoed. [Host, the return portal is now open. Commencing countdown: 3… 2…] The mechanical voice blended with Valerie’s annoyed reprimands. Elle stood nearby, irritated by my devastation. She crossed her arms and sneered. “Why are you acting so dramatic? If you’re really that sad, go bash your head in and join that bitch in hell.” “She got what she deserved. Who told her to hire thugs to beat up Uncle Rowan while you were locked up?” I curled into myself, trembling in agony, and slowly raised my head to look at my sister’s lifeless body. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll go join her.” Summoning every last ounce of strength left in my broken body, I launched myself forward and slammed my head full force into the concrete pillar right next to Valerie.

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