The night I found out I was dumped, I stood outside the Vance estate for half the night. Preston Vance walked past me with his arm wrapped around his new flame, scoffing coldly, “What? Here to ask for a breakup fee?” He took off the ring I gave him and threw it on the ground. As I bent down to pick it up, Sienna Hayes ground her stiletto into the back of my hand. Preston acted like he didn’t see a thing. Later, I moved into the Sterling estate next door as its rightful mistress. During the day, I tended to the flowers and fed the cats in the garden. At night, I kissed Roman Sterling passionately on his balcony. Preston looked up and saw us. He crushed a thorny rose in his palm, his cold eyes looking as if they were dyed in blood. 01 I stood at the gates of the Vance estate, waiting for Preston. Late into the night, a Rolls-Royce drove past the gates and pulled into the garage. A moment later, Preston walked past me, his arm wrapped around the hottest new starlet in Hollywood, Sienna Hayes. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and sneered, “What? Are you here to ask for a breakup fee?” Before this, Preston had never once mentioned breaking up with me. Three hours ago, paparazzi had leaked photos of Sienna and Preston leaving a high-end French restaurant. As the rumors spread, Sienna responded on Twitter: [It’s just a normal relationship. Everyone can calm down now.] Preston had ‘liked’ her tweet. That was how I found out I had been dumped. Just last night, the person lying in his arms was me. He had made me look into the bathroom mirror, caressing my face from behind, murmuring, “Eden, do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?” My cheeks had flushed. “Hmm? How beautiful?” His hot breath tickled the back of my ear: “More vibrant than the roses on the balcony. It makes me want to be completely ruthless with you.” Last night he couldn’t keep his hands off me, and in the blink of an eye, he had a new girl? I didn’t believe it, so I came to ask him myself. “Preston, I came to ask you… since when have you and Sienna been together?” Preston replied coldly, “We got together today. Is there a problem?” My eyes fell on the ring on his finger. We had given each other promise rings. If he had a new girlfriend, what did it mean that he was still wearing the ring I gave him? Preston pulled the ring off his finger and handed it to me: “Take it. And don’t ever come bothering me again.” Before I could even reach out to take it, he dropped the ring onto the ground. It was the ring I had bought him with my very first paycheck after graduating college. It wasn’t expensive, but it held deep meaning. I remember when Preston received that ring, he couldn’t stop smiling. That night, he used hundreds of drones to confess his love to me in the sky, wanting to announce to the whole world that I was his woman. Now, that same ring was thrown on the ground like garbage. Pushing down my emotions, I bent over to pick up the ring. Preston turned and walked toward the mansion with Sienna. As Sienna walked past me, she deliberately stepped her foot down, her heel grinding into the back of my hand. “Hiss—” I cried out in pain. Sienna was wearing impossibly high, sharp stilettos. I knew she was doing this on purpose to humiliate me. She moved her foot and chuckled lightly: “Oops, sorry. It’s too dark, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Before, if I got even a tiny scratch, he would be sick with worry. But right now, Preston acted like he didn’t see a thing. I shoved Sienna, and she conveniently fell right into Preston’s arms. “Eden, that’s enough,” Preston said. He wrapped his arm around Sienna’s waist and stepped through the grand front doors of the mansion. 02 I turned and walked away. I hadn’t gone far when it started to rain. I ran to take shelter under the eaves of the neighboring mansion. Looking up, I could see Preston’s bedroom. It was on the second floor, and the lights were now on. Sienna walked out onto the balcony, surveying the area around the front gate, as if checking to make sure I had actually left. A moment later, Preston walked up behind Sienna, holding his suit jacket. He wrapped the jacket around her and hugged her from behind. Sienna turned her head and rested her cheek against his chest. This scene was entirely too familiar. The Vance estate had practically been my second home. The roses on that balcony had been planted by my own two hands. He and I used to kiss passionately on that very balcony. I looked away, not daring to watch anymore. I was afraid of seeing something that would shatter my heart completely. Preston was my first love. I had taken our relationship incredibly seriously. I had even fantasized about our wedding day and our happy life afterward. Being dumped so suddenly, apart from being caught completely off guard, left me feeling like a massive chunk of my heart was missing. The cold wind of the rainy night blew into the gaping hole in my chest. When I looked up again, Preston had already pulled Sienna back into the bedroom. The motorized curtains slowly drew shut, hiding everything that left so much to the imagination. 03 Not only did the rain not stop, it started pouring harder. My phone was completely dead. Preston’s mansion was in an exclusive, gated community in the suburbs. In the middle of the night, it was impossible to get an Uber out here. Preston had changed. Before, he would never treat me like this. Even if we were fighting, he would still make sure I got home safe. I debated internally over and over: should I go ring his doorbell and swallow my pride to beg him to let me stay for one night? To be honest, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly, a blinding light cut through the dark. A sleek Ferrari pulled into the garage of the mansion where I was taking shelter. I followed the car into the garage, hoping to borrow his phone to call an Uber. The man who stepped out of the car looked to be around twenty-six or twenty-seven. He was incredibly handsome. I had actually seen him a few times before. He was Preston’s neighbor, Roman Sterling. Sometimes, when I stayed the night at Preston’s, I could see Roman’s garden and balcony from ours. In the mornings, he would water the plants in his garden and then sit on his balcony drinking coffee. My impression of him was that he was noble and highly disciplined. Roman saw me standing there, completely soaked, and paused in surprise. “Why aren’t you going to your boyfriend’s house to get out of the rain?” “He changed the passcode on the lock,” I said dejectedly. “We broke up.” Roman looked up at the balcony of Preston’s bedroom and blurted out, “But weren’t you two just last night…” He seemed to realize something and quickly stopped himself. My face flushed bright red. He was right. Just last night, Preston and I were making out on that balcony. In the heat of the moment, he had even said to me, “Should we try it out here on the balcony?” I blushed. “No, the neighbors might see…” “Mhm, then let’s go inside.” Preston had carried me into the house. Had Roman seen us? This was incredibly awkward. I said bitterly, “He has a new girlfriend.” “That fast?” Roman looked thoughtful. “Do you want to come inside my house first? You can dry your clothes, and I’ll drive you back in the morning.” I hesitated for a moment. It was the middle of the night, and I lived forty minutes away. Having him drive me back in this weather was asking too much. Besides, even if I borrowed his phone to call a cab, it wouldn’t be safe. I nodded. “Okay, thank you.” 04 I took a shower at Roman’s house. Wearing a plush bathrobe, I put my soaking wet clothes into his high-end washer-dryer combo. I slept in his guest room for the night. Early the next morning, his housekeeper was making breakfast in the kitchen. He insisted I stay for breakfast, saying he would drop me off at work since he was heading to his office anyway. As we walked out the front door, we ran straight into Preston and Sienna. Roman went to the adjacent garage to pull his car out. When Preston saw me walking out of Roman’s house, his face instantly darkened. Sienna looked me up and down and let out a scoffing laugh. She turned to Preston and said, “Preston, you were so worried about her being unsafe going home alone last night, but she didn’t even go home. She moves on pretty fast, doesn’t she?” Preston’s face grew even darker. He marched over, grabbed my arm, and pulled me aside, furious and humiliated. “Eden, did you sleep with him last night?” “I’m not as easy as you are. I was just taking shelter from the rain at his house.” As soon as I explained, I realized we were already broken up. I had no obligation to explain anything to him. Hearing my explanation, Preston’s expression softened slightly. I quickly added, “But, I kind of want to see what it’s like to move on instantly. It’s probably pretty nice, right?” Preston gritted his teeth. “Don’t you dare!” “Preston, I know you think you’re God’s gift to women. Well, newsflash: I don’t think you are either. If I meet someone who’s a good fit, I’ll absolutely go for it.” With that, I shook off his hand and got into Roman’s Ferrari. In the rearview mirror, Preston’s eyes were glued to me. Until the car drove out of his line of sight. I knew he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the fact that I had hooked up with another man so quickly. 05 When I got back to the office, everyone already knew the news of my breakup with Preston. Walking past the breakroom, I overheard colleagues gossiping about Preston and Sienna’s new romance. I pretended not to hear. My colleague and best friend, Kendall, came to comfort me. “It’s just a breakup, it’s not the end of the world. Tonight, I’m taking you out to the club. We’re going to drink, dance, and order some hot VIP hosts for bottle service.” When night fell, Kendall and I changed into club-ready outfits and headed out. We happened to walk in just as the club was hosting a challenge. It was a promotion aimed at single women: if you could finish a dozen cocktails within a time limit, you won a free night with a VIP host—drinking and partying. If you hit it off, you could even take him home. When I was with Preston, he never let me drink. Now that we were broken up, I had no one tying me down. It was time to let loose. Both Kendall and I signed up for the challenge. Kendall’s alcohol tolerance was way better than mine. She quickly finished her dozen cocktails. She picked out a stunningly handsome VIP host. I rarely drank before, so I had no idea what my tolerance was. By the time I finished my dozen cocktails, the room was spinning. The world was tilting and swaying. The event manager lined up the VIP hosts for me to choose from. I raised my hand, waving it unsteadily, and pointed at the guy who looked the most handsome and pleasing to the eye. Then, I collapsed onto the table, passed out. In my hazy state, I heard Kendall’s voice in my ear: “LMAO, Eden, the guy you pointed at isn’t a host, he’s a customer.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “But I gotta say, his body and face are way better than any of the hosts here.” “Ahem, he’s walking over to you.” Just as Kendall finished speaking, the man I pointed at walked over. “Eden, why did you drink so much?” His voice sounded familiar, but I was so drunk I couldn’t remember who he was. Or maybe, for a split second, Roman Sterling’s face flashed through my mind, but I quickly forgot it. The man was indeed Roman. Kendall chatted with Roman for a bit. He said he was my friend, and since I was drunk, he would take me home. Kendall asked me, “Eden, do you know a guy named Roman Sterling?” I mumbled groggily, “Yeah, I know him. I… stayed the night at his house.” Kendall’s eyes lit up. She leaned in and whispered, “He’s way hotter than Preston. Since you guys are so close, I’ll let him take you home, okay?” The alcohol had completely taken over. I didn’t hear a word Kendall said. I just instinctively mumbled, “Mhm.” Roman wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me out of the club. He put me into his car, buckled my seatbelt, and asked, “Where do you live?” “You’re my prize, I won you fair and square! Why are we going home?” I grabbed his tie, looking at him with blurry eyes. “To a hotel. We’re getting a presidential suite. We’re going to keep… keep drinking.” 06 Once we got to the presidential suite, I clung to Roman, demanding he open more wine. He humored me and opened a bottle of red wine. I swirled the wine in my glass, looking through the glass at him sitting on the leather sofa. He was calm, composed, and incredibly attractive. I leaned forward and held the glass to his lips. “You’re not being proactive enough. Your customer service skills… are failing.” Roman pushed the glass away, looking at me seriously. “Do you know who I am?” “Of course I do. You’re a host. The hottest host in the whole club.” I said, trying to force him to drink. “Tonight you belong to me. Come on, drink.” “I am Roman Sterling.” He turned his face away. The wine spilled down his collar, staining his crisp white shirt a deep red. “Roman who? Don’t know him. I don’t care who you are, as long as you make me happy.” I pressed half my body weight onto him and kissed him. Our lips met, and it felt like an electric shock. Just like the alcohol, it went straight to my head. Roman’s voice was hoarse. “Eden, I am not a host. If you mess with me, you have to take responsibility.” “Fine, I’ll take responsibility. I’m going to keep kissing you.” I said, diving back in. When it came to kissing, he seemed to lack experience. At first, I was taking the lead. Once he gradually got used to it, he turned from passive to active. Later, when I was practically gasping for air, he carried me to the bed and tucked me in. I heard the water running in the bathroom. He was taking a cold shower. Roman was just as intoxicated as I was. He turned the shower all the way to cold, shaking his head as if trying to suppress the heat I had ignited in him. By the time he came out of the bathroom wearing a robe, I was already sound asleep. He didn’t wake me. Instead, he sat on the leather sofa, poured himself a glass of red wine, and drank it slowly. 07 When I woke up the next morning, my head was throbbing and heavy. I was the only one in the presidential suite. I had blacked out last night. My memories were fragmented. I only remembered the VIP host driving me to the hotel. I remembered making out with him on the sofa. What happened after that, I couldn’t recall. I threw off the covers and checked. Thank God, nothing had happened. That host had excellent professional boundaries and self-control. To be able to resist me when I was acting like that… impressive. I felt a pang of guilt. I shouldn’t have drank so much last night. If something had actually happened, I would have regretted it forever. I took a shower and went down to the hotel’s buffet for breakfast. It really is a small world. Preston and Sienna were also eating breakfast in the restaurant. It looked like they had stayed at this hotel last night too. When I woke up earlier, I was actually regretting going to the club and letting loose. But seeing Preston and Sienna parading their new relationship, an inexplicable wave of bitterness and vindictive pleasure washed over me. Next time I go to the club, I’m going to request that exact same host again. Preston froze when he saw me. He noticed there was no other man with me and subtly breathed a sigh of relief. Sienna smiled and greeted me. “Eden, what a coincidence! You stayed here last night too? All by yourself?” I smiled back. “Not by myself. I was with my boyfriend, but he already left for work.” Preston casually sipped his coffee, but his eyes betrayed him. When he heard me say the word “boyfriend,” his eyes darkened. “Ha, is it that Roman Sterling guy from last time?” Sienna smiled meaningfully. “It’s great that you were able to move on from your last relationship so quickly.” “Right? Preston.” Sienna turned to ask Preston. Preston slammed his half-finished coffee down on the table, stood up, and coldly threw out: “I’m full. I’m going outside for a smoke.” Sienna called after him, “Okay, I’ll come find you when I’m done.” Sienna moved her half-eaten breakfast to my table and lowered her voice to whisper to me. “Eden, I really have to thank you. You trained Preston so well. I’m really enjoying it.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” Sienna smirked. “He’s very much a gentleman, and he’s extremely generous with me.” She flashed the diamond watch on her wrist, showing it off to me. “A diamond watch worth millions, and he bought it for me without a second thought. Was he this generous with you before?” My eyes swept over the diamond watch on her wrist. I remembered seeing this exact watch in an in-flight magazine when Preston and I flew to Scandinavia for a vacation. I had looked at it a couple of times, and Preston had asked, “Do you like it? If you like it, I’ll buy it for you.” I shook my head. “No need. It’s too expensive.” I never expected he would actually buy it and give it to Sienna. Saying I wasn’t jealous would be a lie, but I no longer had the right to be jealous. Seeing me stay silent, Sienna lifted her hand to tuck a strand of long hair behind her ear, revealing a hickey on her neck. She said with a smirk, “He’s also very satisfying in that department.” Sienna’s words forced my brain to picture her and Preston in bed together. I used to think his preference for me was unique. It turns out, any other woman will do just fine. My heart felt bitter. I stood up and dropped a single sentence: “I’m full.” I walked out of the buffet restaurant. As I passed the corner of the hallway, I saw Preston standing in the shadows. Tall and striking, his tailored suit accentuating his noble elegance. The CEO of the Vance Group. Young, wealthy. How many starlets like Sienna in their circle wanted to climb that branch? Once, his every move captivated me. Now, this man no longer belonged to me. I looked away, unwilling to spare him a second glance. I walked quickly away. Who knew that as I passed him, he grabbed my arm and yanked me into the stairwell. I said angrily, “Let me go!” Preston pinned me against the wall, his deep eyes unreadable. “Did you get a room with Roman last night? Did you two sleep together?” I fired back, “We’re two consenting adults in a hotel room. Whatever happens, happens. What, did you think I was going to save myself for you?” Preston’s eyes blazed with anger. He grabbed my waist, dripping with jealousy. “Eden, I know you’re not that kind of girl. You’re doing this to force me to come back to you, aren’t you?” 08 Before I could answer, he rationalized it to himself. “Fine, you win. I admit I haven’t gotten over you.” I was stunned. “So what?” “I’ll break up with Sienna. From now on, you stay the hell away from Roman Sterling.” He finished speaking, leaned down, and quickly pecked me on the lips, declaring his territory: “You’re mine.” I snapped back to reality and slapped him hard across the face, furious. “Preston, do you think I’m a dog you can whistle for and shoo away whenever you please?” “Whether you break up with Sienna or not, it is completely impossible for us to ever get back together.” I pushed him away and walked out of the stairwell. Sienna was standing at the entrance to the buffet, staring at me in shock. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes told me she had heard everything. When I left, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a look of pure hatred bloom on her face. I went to the front desk to check out. The receptionist told me that the room had been paid for last night. I thought to myself, That VIP host must be experiencing life outside the club. A presidential suite is two thousand dollars a night, and he actually paid for it himself? I walked out of the hotel lobby and saw a familiar Ferrari pulling up in the distance. Roman rolled down the window and said to me, “Get in. I’ll drop you off at work.” I got into his car, feeling a bit guilty, not daring to look at him. Last night I clearly went back to the hotel with a male host. Why is it that when I woke up today and tried to recall making out on the sofa, the face that popped into my head was Roman’s? Could it be that I subconsciously have inappropriate thoughts about him? Or is he just too handsome, and my brain automatically substituted his face? Roman drove and asked me, “Are you still dizzy? Do you need to take a sick day?” Huh? How did he know I drank too much last night? I answered casually, “I’m fine. One more day until Saturday. I won’t take a sick day.” Roman added, “Don’t drink so much next time.” I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and laid my cards on the table. “Wait, how do you know I drank too much last night?” We hit a red light. Roman stopped the car, turned, and looked at me. “With the way you were acting, you wouldn’t call that drunk?” The way I was acting? “How was I acting?” I was even more confused. Roman smirked, his tone meaningful. “I thought you were a good girl. I didn’t expect you to be so wild.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a hickey on his neck. That image perfectly overlapped with the memory of me forcing a kiss on the male host last night. My face turned beet red. It turns out the man who took me back to the hotel last night wasn’t a male host; it was Roman. It was a bit mortifying, but at the same time, I felt a little thrill of joy. It was better him than some stranger. When I got back to the office, Kendall hadn’t arrived yet. I went to make a cup of coffee. When I came back, I saw her walking in right behind our CEO. I pulled her into the breakroom and asked, “Are you okay from last night? Did you get drunk?” Kendall’s face was flushed. “I got drunk. After you left last night, I ran into Mr. Cole at the club. He carried me back to his place…” The Mr. Cole Kendall was referring to was our CEO, Harrison Cole. This was a completely unexpected turn of events. I turned on my gossip radar. “So, did anything happen between you two?” “I stayed at his place last night…” Kendall covered her face, looking both embarrassed and annoyed. “Ugh, if my brother finds out, I’m dead.” Kendall was a wealthy heiress who had just returned from studying abroad. Her brother was in the process of taking over the family business. He had sent her to work at our rival company as a corporate spy to gather intel. I didn’t expect her to end up having an unspeakable romance with our CEO. Interesting. 09 After that day, I heard Preston and Sienna broke up. Paparazzi caught Sienna drowning her sorrows at a bar, calling it the fastest breakup in history. She and Preston had only been together for two days. Preston started pursuing me again. He sent people to deliver flowers to my office every day. He tried calling and texting me, but I had already blocked him. He even came to my office and my apartment building to find me a few times, but I always took a detour when I saw him, refusing to give him a chance to explain. After I had been dating Roman for a while, he took me back to his family’s estate to meet his parents. His parents were prominent local entrepreneurs. The Sterling Group and the Vance Group were both leaders in their respective industries, equally matched in power and influence. Roman was an only child. He had started working in the family business two years ago and was poised to take over as the new head of the Sterling Group once he gained enough experience. When Mrs. Sterling saw the jade bracelet on my wrist, she smiled warmly. “This jade bracelet is an heirloom I’ve kept for my future daughter-in-law. It seems Roman is very serious about you.” So the jade bracelet wasn’t just bought at a store; it carried a much deeper meaning. Mr. Sterling asked about my college major and then invited me to work at the Sterling Group. I politely declined, stating that I still had ongoing projects to finish and would consider it later. It was clear that Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were quite pleased with me. When they found out Roman and I were together, they had someone look into my family background and education. While my family wasn’t as wealthy as the Sterlings or the Vances, we were still well-off. My family just lived in a different city. This was also why Preston had once said I was the perfect fit to be Mrs. Vance. Apart from my personality and looks, my family background and education were impeccable. I also took Roman to meet my parents. When Preston found out, he lost it. Because we had dated for two years before I took him to meet my parents, and now I had only been dating Roman for six months and we had already met each other’s families. He had always been incredibly competitive. When Roman and I returned from visiting my parents, I moved into his mansion, and we started living together.

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After high school graduation, my illegitimate sister trended on Twitter and TikTok. Everyone was saying the wealthy Kensington family produced brilliant daughters. The older sister was the state valedictorian and an Ivy League admit, while the younger sister was the top recruit for Juilliard’s dance division. Just as that illegitimate daughter tried to use this wave of clout to force her way into our home… I had someone break her legs. 1 It was the night of my college acceptance gala. My father brought his illegitimate daughter to the banquet, where she dropped to both knees. Tearfully, she begged my mother to let her into the family. The surrounding guests gasped in shock. Just as the bodyguards stepped forward to drag her away, my mother stopped them with a single glance. I stood to the side, arms crossed, watching the show. I wanted to see what kind of nonsense this illegitimate daughter could spit out. She cried, looking like a fragile, rain-soaked flower: “I have Kensington blood flowing through my veins! Please, have mercy and let me through the doors!” “I can sing and dance, and I’m not ugly. I won’t embarrass the Kensington family!” After saying that, she shuffled forward on her knees. Just as she was about to speak again, Liam Sterling, the heir to the Sterling family standing next to me, recognized her. He pointed at the illegitimate daughter, his voice filled with unconcealed surprise: “Aren’t you that girl who got top marks in Juilliard’s admissions this year? The one who danced that viral ‘Swan Song’ piece?” Seeing that someone remembered her, Chloe nodded eagerly. She had hoped Liam would say a few more complimentary words. Instead, Liam clapped his hands and laughed out loud: “My grandma was just saying your dancing had a noble, unyielding spirit to it. I didn’t expect you to drop to your knees this fast.” Hearing this, snickers erupted from the surrounding crowd. Chloe’s face instantly turned pitch black. Seeing her look as if she were about to faint from humiliation, I didn’t step in to defend her. Instead, I stood there holding my champagne, smiling as I watched her make a fool of herself. Amidst the surrounding mockery, my father’s face darkened. He was the one who brought her; Chloe being mocked meant he was losing face too. He looked around, but not a single person stepped forward to smooth things over. After all, my father had squandered his side of the Kensington family’s wealth long ago. It was my mother’s family who had seized the market trends over the years, propelling us into Manhattan’s upper-crust elite. Everyone attending my gala was here out of respect for my mother. Father bringing his illegitimate daughter to publicly force my mother’s hand was a foolish move. Even for the sake of future business ties, no one was going to speak up for him. I watched coldly from the sidelines until Chloe had been humiliated enough. Only then did I leisurely set down my champagne glass and clap my hands. The bodyguards waiting outside immediately entered the room, dragging the limp Chloe up by one arm. I first smiled and apologized to the surrounding guests: “I am truly sorry. Our security was a bit lax tonight, and you all had to witness a farce.” Then, I gave the bodyguards a look. Understanding perfectly, they hauled the struggling Chloe away, marching her straight out the doors and tossing her out of the Kensington estate. Father watched Chloe being handled with an ashen face, but he was powerless to stop it. He could only smash his glass in anger and storm out of the venue. Meanwhile, my mother, sitting at the head of the room, maintained a look of amiable grace. She smiled warmly as she watched me take out the trash. 2 The gala ended. I changed out of my heavy, intricate evening gown and slipped into a comfortable silk dress. I loosely pinned up my hair and was led back to the living room by the staff. In the living room, my father and mother sat opposite each other. Kneeling on the floor to the side was Chloe, the very girl who had just been thrown out. She was currently wearing a white dress, crying pitifully. Seeing me come downstairs, Mother waved me over to sit beside her. She looked at Chloe kneeling on the floor and said casually: “Do you want to enter the Kensington family that badly?” Chloe nodded eagerly, just about to start begging again. Unexpectedly, Mother agreed immediately: “Of course you can.” With that, Mother narrowed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips: “If you’re willing, I’ll hold a press conference tomorrow and announce that you are my biological daughter.” A flash of shock crossed my father’s eyes, and he moved to stop her. But Chloe agreed without hesitation: “I will! I’m willing!” The moment the words left her mouth, Mother smiled and turned to my father: “But she isn’t my biological flesh and blood after all.” “If you want me to claim her, you must hand over every single cent of the assets your father left for my daughter in his will.” The atmosphere in the living room instantly grew tense. Father gritted his teeth, glaring at Mother. Mother just smiled fearlessly and took a sip of her tea. I lowered my eyes, remaining silent. Years ago, knowing my father was incompetent, my grandfather arranged a business marriage between him and my mother, a woman with immense capability but a slightly weaker family background. And the daughter my mother gave birth to—me—inherited her brilliant mind. Grandfather was incredibly pleased. He even considered bypassing my idiot father entirely and handing the Kensington Corporation directly to me. Unfortunately, before he could do so, he passed away from cancer. Fortunately, he left a will stating that once I turned eighteen, 20% of Kensington Corp’s shares would be transferred to me. Until then, my father was to hold them in a trust. But three months had passed since I came of age, and my father acted as if nothing had happened, delaying the transfer. Looking at it now, wasn’t he just trying to save those shares for his illegitimate daughter? Seeing my father remain silent, Mother let out a light chuckle. She turned and instructed the butler: “Since Mr. Kensington is unwilling, please escort this young lady out.” Seeing her chance to enter high society slipping away, Chloe cried out to my father in a panic: “Dad, please think about me… Ah!” Before she could finish, Father, as if making a painful decision, grabbed the butler who was stepping forward. Gritting his teeth, he hissed: “Fine! I’ll give them to her!” Mother nodded in satisfaction, then clapped her hands. A lawyer who had been waiting in the next room stepped forward. He pulled the documents from his briefcase, waiting for my father to sign. Seeing the matter practically settled, Mother patted my shoulder with a smile: “Victoria, you’re going to be an older sister.” “Since we have some free time, why don’t you take Chloe for a tour around the estate?” I smiled, nodded, and extended a hand to Chloe, who was still kneeling. No matter how reluctant Chloe was, she had to play the part of a sweet, obedient girl in front of my mother. She took my hand. The sharp diamonds on my bracelet dug viciously into her scraped wrist. She struggled slightly, but I held her in an iron grip. While my father was busy arguing over clauses with the lawyer, I dragged Chloe out of the living room. 3 Before my father tanked his side of the business, the Kensingtons were Manhattan royalty. Thus, the estate was nothing short of magnificent. I dragged Chloe down the long corridors until we reached the courtyard. Seeing that there were no servants around, she dropped her mask instantly, violently swatting my hand away. I leaned lazily against a pillar, watching her agonizingly inspect her injured wrist. Dancers are most afraid of leaving scars on their bodies. Chloe was no exception. Seeing her panicked expression, I feigned surprise: “Oh my, look how clumsy I am. I didn’t even notice my dear sister was hurt!” I took a step forward, but she slapped my hand away again: “Back off! You hypocritical bitch!” She hit me hard. I looked at the red mark on the back of my hand, my expression unreadable. Finally, I looked up at her and let out a cold laugh: “Who do you think you are? You dare lay a hand on me?” “An illegitimate bastard who was just kneeling on the floor, kissing my mother’s feet to get through the door, and now you have the nerve to call me a hypocrite?” As I spoke, I looked Chloe up and down with mocking disdain. Chloe had been spoiled and arrogant her whole life. Hearing my words, she almost exploded with rage. Forgetting my father’s instructions to endure, she sneered: “Victoria, don’t get too smug.” “So what if I’m illegitimate? Don’t you know marriage is a woman’s second reincarnation?” “I’m beautiful, and I’m the top recruit at Juilliard. Father can pick any elite family for a marriage alliance, and I’ll live a much freer life than you!” “What are you? Just a boring valedictorian. You’re not as pretty as me, you have no charm, and in the end, no one’s going to want to marry you!” She looked me up and down like a victor, clinging to her delusion as a lifeline. I watched her smug face, too lazy to argue. I twisted the ring on my finger, turning the sharpest edge toward my palm. Then, I grabbed Chloe by the hair with one hand, and with the other, I slapped her across the face, hard, several times! The sharp edges of my jewelry slashed her delicate, pretty face, leaving ugly, red handprints. She immediately squatted on the ground, covering her face. Taking the opportunity, I kicked her off the veranda and straight into the flowerbed. Amidst the chaos, I heard her furious, hysterical screaming. Lazily, I watched her struggle to climb out, and then I kicked her right back in. Only then did I speak: “You’re new here, so you probably don’t know yet. I, Victoria Kensington, am not someone you want to mess with.” “So what if your last name is Kensington now? In my eyes, the Kensingtons on your father’s side are just beggars.” “You’re nothing but a dancing toy meant for others’ entertainment. Relying on the half of our blood we share, you actually think you can covet what belongs to me?!” I stepped heavily on the hand she used to grip the stone paving, grinding my heel down. Unsurprisingly, she wailed in pain. Through her sobs, Chloe stammered: “If you treat me like this, Dad won’t let you get away with it!” Looking at her pathetic state, I laughed out loud: “He’s a nobody. Just a piece of trash who ran his company into the ground. Threatening me with him is less intimidating than threatening to take a dump in our living room.” With that, I stood up straight. I dusted off my clothes, though there was no dirt on them. Leisurely, I said: “No one is coming to save you tonight. If you can climb up, climb up. If you can’t, sleep in the garden.” “Everyone in this estate works for me. You better learn your place.” I grabbed a decorative fan left on the veranda and fanned myself as I walked back to my room. 4 Chloe had been pampered her whole life. She had never suffered such humiliation. The very next day, she ran to complain to our father. When I was called down to the living room, I found my furious father and a pitiful, teary-eyed Chloe covering her face. Father pointed at Chloe’s face and interrogated me: “Victoria, why did you hit your sister?” “How could you be so vicious!” I had just woken up. Ignoring my raging father, I looked at Chloe hiding behind him: “Didn’t I tell you?” “Instead of whining to Dad, you’d be better off taking a dump in the living room. It’s way more intimidating.” Father grabbed my arm: “Answer my question!” “Stop provoking your sister!” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and slapped his hand away: “She’s an illegitimate bastard. I hit her. So what? Do I need a reason?” “Instead of interrogating me here, you should be figuring out how you’re going to explain to the shareholders of your last remaining company why you’re bankrupt again.” Sure enough, a look of guilt flashed across my father’s face. I let out a scoff and flipped off the illegitimate daughter before walking away. Seeing my completely shameless attitude, Father nearly popped a blood vessel. When Mother returned, he complained to her again. But Mother brushed it off with a few light words. When he tried to push the issue, she smiled and struck his weak spot: “If you keep talking nonsense, I was planning on hosting a welcome gala to introduce Chloe to society.” The moment she said that, Father shut his mouth. Even Chloe, hiding behind him, stopped her whimpering. I knew why Chloe was so obsessed with her face. Mother’s company was launching a new product line soon. Her Manhattan connections were supposed to be smoothed out at my acceptance gala. But my idiot father ruined a perfectly good networking opportunity by bringing his illegitimate daughter. To fix this, Mother was using the excuse of welcoming the illegitimate daughter to host another gala and rebuild those connections. And Chloe genuinely thought she was the star of the night. Smug and delighted, she immediately started preparing. On the afternoon of the gala, she even booked an emergency appointment at a high-end medspa to salvage the face I had ruined. I, however, stayed at the estate. My phone buzzed endlessly with messages from the elite group chat. [I heard the Kensingtons are officially letting the illegitimate daughter in. True or false?] [True. Tonight’s gala. My mom got the invite directly from Mrs. Kensington.] The questions in the chat quickly shifted from curiosity to disbelief: [Wait, Victoria didn’t skin her alive? Since when is her temper that good?] Laughter emojis flooded the chat. I typed back, exasperated: [I slapped her face so hard it swelled up like a balloon. She’s at a medspa getting emergency repairs right now.] I added a few more insults for good measure. The wealthy heirs in the chat clearly understood my attitude toward Chloe. They knew exactly how to treat her tonight. 5 When Chloe returned from the medspa, the butler was just bringing in the haute couture gown she requested. I was sitting in the living room drinking tea. When I looked up, I saw Chloe staring at the dress with thrilling excitement. She was just a brainless fool greedy for wealth and status. Destined to be cannon fodder in high society. Thinking about this, my eyes filled with pity. A pawn meant to be used from the moment she logged on. Truly pathetic. Half an hour before the gala started, I threw on a simple, elegant gown and went downstairs to wait. Chloe came down wearing a magnificent, overly elaborate dress. The luxurious fabric wrapped tightly around her curves, making her look undeniably beautiful. Adorned with diamonds, she really did look like a high-society heiress. But that was only what she thought. Once the gala began, Mother gave her a brief, perfunctory introduction before taking me, dressed in my understated elegance, to network with the VIPs. The scenario Chloe had imagined—being surrounded by admirers—never happened. Holding my wine glass, I stood a short distance away, smiling as I watched Chloe sit entirely alone on a sofa. The young heirs and heiresses clustered in small groups around her, pointing and whispering. After the first round of networking ended, Mother finally let me go, telling me to catch up with the younger generation. I smiled and nodded, walking toward the smaller banquet hall where the heirs had gathered. Harper, a girl from a family closely allied with ours, saw me and immediately rushed over to link arms with me. I raised an eyebrow, looking at the isolated Chloe on the couch: “Why are you all leaving my ‘good sister’ hanging like that?” Chloe astutely looked up at me. I smiled and raised my glass to her, not missing the flash of hatred in her eyes. Harper curled her lip: “She’s just a bastard daughter, yet she acts so high and mighty, expecting us to initiate a conversation with her.” “She even looks down on the smaller families. A guy from a lesser tier tried to chat with her, and she literally rolled her eyes at him.” I glanced at the pretentious Chloe and played along: “Exactly. Does she really expect us to suck up to her?” Then, as if suddenly remembering something, a smile curled on my lips. I whispered to Harper: “Let’s go mess with her.” I quickly gave Harper a few instructions. Harper understood perfectly. While Chloe went to the restroom, Harper briefed the group chat on the plan. When Chloe returned, she suddenly noticed a change. Several heiresses, as if suddenly enlightened, warmly linked arms with her and started chatting. Dazzled by the sudden attention, she didn’t even sense anything was wrong, comfortably accepting their fake goodwill. During their chat, Harper suddenly pointed at a handsome young man standing not too far away and casually introduced him: “That’s Carter Harrington, the eldest son of the Harrington family, and the sole heir to his generation.” “The Harringtons are one of the top elite families in New York, and Carter himself is incredibly outstanding.” “We were all just joking around, wondering who the future Mrs. Harrington will be.” Harper side-eyed Chloe, easily catching the eager, calculating look on her face. To add fuel to the fire, Harper added: “I heard your mother is very fond of Carter and is planning to arrange a marriage between him and Victoria!” Hearing this, Chloe couldn’t sit still anymore. A man approved by my mother? He was an absolute golden ticket in the marriage market! She had to seize this opportunity. If Carter Harrington fell for her, she could leap to the top of society as Mrs. Harrington. Then even that bitch Victoria would have to smile and bow to her! Harper watched Chloe practically vibrating with eagerness and almost burst out laughing. She added: “Carter loves ballet, by the way. I heard you’re a dance major?” Chloe nodded modestly. Harper dramatically clapped her hands together: “That’s perfect! Why don’t I introduce you two?” Feigning reluctance but secretly overjoyed, Chloe let Harper lead her toward Carter. Chloe was already mesmerized by Carter’s handsome face. She completely missed Harper turning her back to hide a massive grin. 6 The upper crust of Manhattan is a very small circle. We had all known each other for over a decade. We knew exactly what everyone else was really like. On the surface, everyone pretended to be proper and sophisticated, but in reality, they were just a bunch of wicked kids who loved playing pranks. I had just told Harper to set this up in the group chat, getting everyone to help Chloe act out a cliché romance novel trope. And Carter Harrington, the “male lead,” was the unlucky guy who rolled the lowest number in the group chat’s dice game. Watching Chloe approach Carter, the messages in the group chat exploded: [What do you guys think her first sentence will be?] [I don’t know, ‘Venmo me $50 for Taco Tuesday’?] [To the person above, stop.] I smirked and casually typed: [I bet a pack of spicy Cheetos she says: ‘Are you my sister’s fiancé?’] Carter immediately replied with a question mark in the chat. [When did I become the fiancé of the Grim Reaper?] Harper quickly explained: [I just gave you a backstory to make your character more compelling!] Sure enough, Chloe walked up to Carter. Carter discreetly put away his phone, and the very first sentence he heard was: “Are you my sister’s fiancé?” Carter’s mouth twitched. Victoria, the ultimate prophet. Just like that, under the group chat’s instructions, Carter chatted with Chloe. From high art to the mundane, they eventually even talked about the price of canned tuna at Whole Foods. Chloe didn’t sense anything amiss. She just joked: “I didn’t expect Mr. Harrington to be such a domestic man, knowing the price of tuna.” Carter forced a smile. He didn’t seem to want to accept her compliment. Meanwhile, Harper, acting as the conductor on the other side of the phone, was dying of laughter on the couch. I couldn’t watch anymore and nudged her: “Be serious, or she’ll notice.” Carter roared in the group chat: [Please, let’s talk about normal things! How the hell would a young master like me know the price of canned tuna?!] A wicked heir immediately replied: [Just say you’re the king of seafood. After all, your reputation as a ‘player’ in New York is pretty well-known.] The chat erupted into laughter, leaving Carter to awkwardly deal with Chloe. It wasn’t until a Harrington family servant came looking for Carter that he politely ended the conversation. Harper immediately texted: [Chloe looks really smug right now. Why don’t we give her and Victoria a chance to interact and see what she says?] The chat was full of chaos-loving instigators. The motion passed unanimously. I laughed and told them to wait in the upstairs restroom so we could watch a showdown. 7 Seeing me excuse myself to the restroom, Chloe quickly followed. When I came out of the stall to wash my hands, she blocked the door: “Sister, did you see that just now? Your fiancé and I had a lovely chat.” I leisurely shook the water off my hands, slowly stood up straight, and met her eyes: “And what exactly are you trying to say, Chloe?” She thought I would panic and threaten her for stealing my man. Instead, I looked completely unbothered, observing her like a monkey in a zoo. She gritted her teeth and laughed arrogantly: “I’m saying, you’re nothing special after all.” “Your friends are nice to me, and your fiancé is attracted to me. You’re just a clown throwing a tantrum.” “You don’t deserve to be the Kensington heiress!” “I want you to watch me take your inheritance, marry your fiancé, and become the most outstanding lady in the Kensington family!” I looked at her like she was an idiot and burst out laughing. Then, I swaggered out. I waited outside, casually inspecting my manicure. This illegitimate daughter was playing at such a low level, I couldn’t even be bothered to fight her. The heiresses hiding in the stalls pushed the doors open. Every single one of them wore an expression of utter boredom. Harper rolled her eyes: “With that IQ, she got top marks at Juilliard?” I shrugged: “Dancers use their feet, not their brains.” “With that pig brain of hers, if she had to take a real academic test, she’d be waiting tables.” When we returned to the banquet hall, the heirs gathered around to review Chloe’s performance. “This batch of illegitimate kids generally has pretty low IQs. That kid from the Miller family was the same. Took the bait effortlessly.” A guy standing nearby laughed and chimed in: “People who dream of climbing the social ladder in one step are never that smart to begin with.” “They fantasize about using their newfound status to hook a golden ticket, but in reality, they’re just clowns.” I nodded in agreement. After chatting a bit more, Mother sent someone to find me, taking me to meet another group of VIPs. It wasn’t until the gala ended that I saw Chloe again. She was still keeping up her glamorous facade, glowing as she stood by the door seeing guests off. When she saw Carter, the affectionate, longing look she gave him gave me goosebumps. Mother wasn’t an idiot. After the guests left, she asked me what happened. I told her exactly how the night went down. When I got to the part where Chloe threatened me in the bathroom, even my usually serious mother couldn’t help but laugh. After laughing, she patted my shoulder, telling me not to play too hard, lest Chloe die of anger when she found out the truth. I nodded and chatted with Mom for a while longer.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420133”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was a walking blood bank. Because of my incredibly rare blood type, my grandparents went to an orphanage and adopted a “blood bag” just for me. The “blood bag” was two years older than me. I treated her like my own flesh-and-blood sister. I took meticulous care of my own body because I never wanted her to have to shed a single drop of blood for me. Later, I was in a severe car accident and desperately needed a transfusion. She purposely swapped the blood bags, giving me the wrong blood type. I developed a severe hemolytic reaction and died. At my funeral, she comforted my grieving grandparents. But when no one was looking, she secretly held hands with my fiancé, Preston. I died with my eyes wide open. My soul lingered in the mortal realm, unwilling to leave. I watched her wrap her arms around Preston’s neck, sleeping with him in the very house meant for my marriage. I watched them pop champagne with the piano teacher I had respected since childhood, celebrating my death. I watched my grandparents, swindled out of their entire fortune by them, end up homeless on the streets like beggars. But heaven showed mercy. I was reborn to take my revenge. 1 “Sweetheart, she’s going to be your older sister. She’ll grow up with you, isn’t that wonderful?” My grandparents held my hand, pointing at the little girl our butler, Arthur, had just brought through the front door. “Look, doesn’t she look just like the porcelain dolls in your room?” Seeing the guarded, unfamiliar look in my eyes, Grandma quickly chimed in. My poor grandparents had absolutely no idea they had just brought a monster into our home. I stared at the seventeen-year-old Audrey Caldwell in front of me, saying nothing. Audrey Caldwell, my wonderful older sister. In my past life, I adored her the moment I saw her. She was beautiful, with a delicate oval face and bright, almond-shaped eyes that made people instantly like her. Being stared down by me made Audrey a little nervous, but she forced a smile, trying her hardest to look sweet and obedient. It made sense. To be adopted by a billionaire family at seventeen, she had to seize this opportunity with everything she had. “Okay! Sister can stay in the room right next to mine.” I smiled sweetly and stepped forward to warmly take her hand to lead her upstairs. Leaving my grandparents behind us, secretly wiping their tears of relief. “Our precious girl is finally going to grow up safe and sound.” I was born premature. I had been frail and sickly since childhood, and on top of that, I inherited my dad’s extremely rare Rh-negative blood type. It was a genetic cocktail practically guaranteeing a short life. Grandpa always said I was rarer than a giant panda. When I was fifteen, my parents died in a car crash. My dad had a chance to survive the massive hemorrhaging, but because of his rare blood type, the hospital’s blood bank ran out of stock. He tragically passed away. This became an insurmountable hurdle in my grandparents’ hearts. They refused to let history repeat itself with me. They hired private investigators to scour orphanages across the country. Finally, a year later, they found a matching “blood bag” for me. “Sweetheart, remember, no matter where you go, you must take your sister with you,” Grandma patted my head, emphasizing it over and over. To be bled when needed, to be a living supply—that was the sole purpose of a blood bag. If this were the old me, I would have fought my grandma tooth and nail. I wouldn’t have allowed them to use Audrey like that, because I loved her and couldn’t bear to see her hurt. Now, I just nodded obediently. “I’ll remember.” 2 Audrey was incredibly good at reading the room and knew exactly how to make people like her. She never slept in. She would come downstairs early and sit in the living room, waiting for my grandparents to wake up just to say good morning. Grandma loved gardening and had a courtyard full of flowers. Audrey would feign interest, keeping Grandma company while she pruned and arranged bouquets. She’d ask Grandma all sorts of questions about floral arrangements, keeping her entertained and incredibly happy. Grandpa loved coffee and tea. She meticulously memorized the different roasts on his shelf and the exact brewing times, pouring and serving him whenever he was busy with work. Even Arthur, our butler, received a sweet “Thank you for your hard work, Arthur,” from her every day. She served everyone in the house perfectly. Everyone except me. No matter how hard she tried to cater to my interests, I was always ice-cold toward her. Grandma told her it was because I had just lost my parents and hadn’t adjusted yet, asking her to be patient and accommodating with me. Audrey took the flower basket Grandma had just arranged and said sensibly: “Grandma, I see Stella as my own little sister. As the older sister, I should be the one to yield.” I stood on the second-floor balcony, my stomach churning with disgust. I once treated you as my own flesh and blood. I let you pick the best of everything. I remembered your birthday and begged Grandpa to throw you a lavish party matching the scale of my own. I even gave you one of the heirloom emerald bracelets Grandma passed down to me without a second thought. And what did you give me in return? You orchestrated a car crash, swapped my blood bags, stole the man I loved, and deceived and abandoned the grandparents who treated you like their own granddaughter. Audrey, my dearest sister. In this life, you better try your absolute hardest to survive. 3 Grandpa arranged for Audrey to be in the same grade as me. She was two years older. When we enrolled, the principal suggested she be placed in the junior class, but I clung to Grandpa’s arm, whining that I couldn’t be separated from my sister. “If anything happens to me, Sister will be right there to help,” I said. I knew exactly what Grandpa feared most. I purposely emphasized the danger, subtly reminding him of her function as a blood bag. A flash of reluctance crossed Audrey’s eyes, but she quickly masked it with a smile. Grandpa immediately waved his hand, rejecting the principal’s suggestion, and had the homeroom teacher lead us both to the sophomore classroom. Audrey wore a pink bow in her hair and a pristine white pleated skirt. She walked with elegant, dainty steps, looking more like a wealthy heiress than I did. The moment she entered the classroom, everyone gathered around, looking at her curiously. “Who is she? Why isn’t she wearing the uniform?” “Stella, do you know her? She’s so pretty.” “Yeah, she really is.” Being praised by everyone made Audrey blush. She lowered her head shyly. Of course. She woke up at 6 AM and spent an hour doing her hair and makeup; she absolutely had to soak up the praise. I cleared my throat and spoke slowly. “This is Audrey Caldwell. The older sister my grandpa picked up from the orphanage.” I deliberately emphasized the word orphanage. The color drained from her face, replaced by a deep, flushed embarrassment. “Oh, an orphanage. So she’s an orphan.” The class started whispering and gossiping. I raised my hand and pointed to a seat by the window. “You can sit there.” Under the watchful eyes of the entire class, Audrey murmured a quiet “Okay.” Then, clutching the straps of her backpack tightly, she walked over with her head down. I lifted my chin and walked back to my own seat, listening to my classmates whispering. “What ‘sister’? She seems more like Stella’s servant.” “Adopted from an orphanage, huh? How could she possibly be on the same level as Stella Thornton?” Seeing Audrey sitting by the window, looking mortified, I was absolutely thrilled. In my past life, she didn’t know her place. Because I liked her and didn’t want her to feel wronged, I publicly announced she was my real sister. I even had her last name legally changed to Thornton, elevating her to the status of a billionaire heiress right alongside me. But humans have a tendency to forget their roots. It’s always better to have someone remind you where you came from. 4 I attended an elite private prep school. The student body consisted of the ultra-wealthy, and the Thornton family was the school’s largest shareholder. Here, I was the undisputed queen bee. I wouldn’t maliciously bully Audrey, but I wouldn’t be close to her either. Rich kids always have a superiority complex. Audrey endured her fair share of mockery and snide remarks. I pretended not to hear any of it. Anyway, she was just a blood bag. Why should anyone respect her? Every afternoon after school, Arthur would pick me up for my one-on-one piano lessons. Sebastian Reed was the city’s youngest piano prodigy. Grandpa threw an astronomical amount of money at him to get him to teach me. I worked hard too. I never missed a single day. Audrey loved my white horse. She kept petting its head. “Stop touching him. He’ll get annoyed in a minute, and if he gets angry, I won’t be able to ride,” I interrupted her sharply. Looking embarrassed, she quickly stepped back. I rode my horse, galloping freely around the arena, looking incredibly cool and carefree. Passing by the fence, I could see the blazing envy in Audrey’s eyes. Suddenly, the horse bucked wildly. Its front hooves shot into the air, and the reins slipped from my control. I slammed hard into the dirt, blood gushing from my leg. I wailed in pain. Terrifying the entire staff, the instructors rushed me to the hospital. While waiting for the leg examination results, Grandpa and Grandma arrived in a sheer panic. Seeing them, I cried even harder, my face deathly pale. “There’s so much blood, Grandma. My pants are completely soaked red.” Grandma hugged me, her heart breaking. “Grandma, I feel dizzy. Am I losing too much blood?” I squinted, speaking weakly. Grandma turned and exchanged a look with Grandpa. Both of them simultaneously glanced at Audrey, who was standing to the side. Audrey’s eyes were filled with terror. Her legs involuntarily took a step back. “Sister, Sister, I’m so dizzy. Can you give me some blood?” I reached out and grabbed the hem of her shirt. Panicked and helpless, she tried to push my hand away. She checked my grandparents’ expressions but didn’t dare refuse outright. “Are you unwilling, Sister?” I squeezed out a few more tears. “No, no, it’s not that. But I’m still a minor,” she quickly waved her hands. A look of difficult hesitation appeared on Grandpa’s face. It was a perfect excuse. After all, according to the law, minors couldn’t donate blood. She had clearly researched the legal loopholes of her purpose in this house long ago. I rolled my eyes and said pitifully: “But Sister, the orphanage director called the other day. She said your birth year was registered two months late, and they’ve already corrected it. You’re legally 18 now.” 5 Audrey ultimately didn’t give me any blood. I was just scaring her. My injury didn’t actually require a transfusion. Having her blood in my body would make me feel sick. As finals approached, I was recovering at home, and Audrey tutored me every day. Actually, my grades were excellent. I didn’t need extra tutoring to get into a top Ivy League, but I just loved having Audrey hover around me. I loved watching her act cautious and speak to me with a fake, hypocritical smile. It constantly reminded me never to forget what happened in my past life. “Today’s key points are these. It’s all review from before. You can look over it yourself.” She closed the textbook, looking relieved that her daily task was finally over. “Sister, I don’t understand it. I feel like I really need the notes to help me. Why don’t you just write the notes out for me too?” I stretched lazily. I saw her face darken. “I’m not a maid.” After a long internal struggle, she finally chose to lose her temper. “Then what are you? The Thornton family’s eldest lady? Or my actual flesh-and-blood sister?” I smiled lightly, watching her with great interest. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. She just glared at me dead in the eye. You broke character that fast? You really are nothing special, Audrey. To think you destroyed me so thoroughly in my past life… I really must have had the brain of a pig. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you get good grades and want to get into a top college. You even have study-abroad brochures for elite European universities hidden under your pillow, don’t you? Too bad I have no intention of going to Europe.” I watched her face turn increasingly humiliated. It was exhilarating. “Know your place. You’re just a blood bag. The Thornton family found you, and we can easily find another one.” “Next time you try to spook my horse, you won’t be staying in the Thornton house anymore. You’ll go right back to wherever you came from.” My equestrian coach had noticed a strong smell of vinegar on my white horse’s head. Horses are highly sensitive to the smell of vinegar; smelling it for too long causes them to panic and lose control. Audrey was the only one constantly petting the horse. Even a toddler could figure out who did it. Actually, I had smelled the vinegar on the horse long before I got on. I just played along. I was in full control of how I fell. Because of her “minor” excuse, she thought she could watch me suffer without having to bleed. She didn’t expect that I had specifically called the orphanage to confirm her exact date of birth. “Coming up with a plan that hurts the enemy a thousand times but damages yourself eight hundred… With a brain like yours, do you really think you’re cut out for studying abroad?” I shrugged effortlessly, looking at her with amusement. 6 After exams, Audrey and I both got into top universities. Sebastian Reed won a major international piano competition and returned to the city to prepare for his premiere solo recital. At the airport, surrounded by reporters asking about his preparations for the concert, Sebastian smiled mysteriously and said that his only student would perform on stage. The moment the news broke, the internet exploded. Everyone started guessing the identity of this musical prodigy’s sole disciple. “Piano prodigy Sebastian Reed, heralded as a musical genius since childhood with a boundless future, took on a student at such a young age!” “To be mentored by Sebastian Reed and make a piano debut at his premiere recital… This student must be an absolute prodigy!” I sat in a haute couture boutique, listening to the reporters’ speculation on TV, leisurely sipping my tea. The genius student Mr. Reed was preparing to introduce to the world was me. To be precise, this entire piano recital was funded and prepared for my debut. As the heiress of the Thornton Group, if I was going to learn piano and hire a master, I had to pick the perfect moment to make a grand, highly publicized debut. Besides, I was Sebastian’s only student. Hearing the TV broadcast mention the word “only,” Audrey, sitting across from me, resentfully lowered her eyes. She was technically Sebastian’s student too. What a pity; only I was worthy of the word “only.” “Ms. Thornton, what do you think of these pieces? They’ve all been tailored to your measurements.” The manager asked politely. Several sales associates wearing white gloves wheeled the gowns in. “These are all the latest haute couture masterpieces. With your fair complexion, this smoky purple trailing gown will make you look incredibly elegant and regal.” “And this pink and white embroidered maxi dress is elegant with a touch of playful cuteness.” The manager introduced them one by one. I found the styles rather ordinary, but Audrey’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll take this one.” I pointed at the first smoky purple gown. “Wait!” I called out to the associate who was packing the dresses away, and pointed at Audrey. “Pick one for her too.” “Me?!” Amidst Audrey’s questioning and surprise, there was an unmistakable, overwhelming joy she couldn’t hide. “You have to go to the recital too. To the outside world, you’re a member of the Thornton family. You naturally need to dress the part.” I nodded. Watching Audrey happily follow the associate to get her measurements taken, I couldn’t help but sneer. In my past life, the person who shone brightly at Sebastian’s piano recital was Audrey. Just as I was about to go on stage, I suddenly had severe stomach cramps, forcing me to let Audrey take my place. Audrey used the opportunity to become famous, instantly becoming a highly sought-after piano prodigy. And through the media’s mouth, she officially announced her status as the eldest daughter of the Thornton family to society. And the naive, foolish me back then was sitting in the audience, happily clapping for my sister who was shining on stage. I never once suspected that the coffee she brought me that afternoon was spiked. Now, I wanted to see… The stage is set for you again. Are you going to pull the same trick? My favorite thing to do was to watch a freshly ignited hope get snuffed out and brutally crushed beneath my feet. 7 After three months of intense practice, the day of the recital finally arrived. Socialites, elites, and reporters took their seats one after another. I attended in full glamor. “Our sweet girl is the most beautiful little princess today.” Grandma and Grandpa came backstage to see me, holding my hands, their eyes full of loving affection. Audrey stood obediently next to Grandma. She was wearing a pink gown today, her long hair cascading down, accentuating her slender neck. She looked very radiant. “Audrey is such a beautiful young woman,” Grandma complimented her politely. While acting shy, she didn’t forget to shoot a glance my way. What the hell are you so smug about? “Grandma, I was so nervous yesterday I didn’t sleep well. I want coffee.” I yawned and said. Grandpa immediately waved his hand, calling his secretary downstairs to buy me a coffee. “I’ll go. I’ve been here with Stella for rehearsals a few times, so I’m familiar with the route,” Audrey quickly volunteered. “Okay, thank you, Sister.” I gave her a sweet smile. Sure enough, the fish took the bait. A few minutes later, Audrey returned with a cup of coffee. “Here, drink up.” I took it with a smile and told her I left my sheet music in the dressing room we were just in, asking her to fetch it for me. Her eyes lingered on the coffee for a second before she nodded and turned to go to the adjacent dressing room. I picked up the aromatic iced Americano, took a deep sniff, and then quickly walked outside Sebastian’s private lounge. “Mr. Reed, you’ve worked so hard. Have a cup of coffee.” 8 The opening went very smoothly. Sebastian, dressed in a sharp tuxedo, looked like a prince sitting at the piano. The stage lights illuminated the packed auditorium. As his fingers lightly touched the keys, Liszt’s La Campanella slowly echoed through the hall. Everyone was immersed in the beautiful melody. No one noticed the dense beads of sweat forming on Sebastian’s forehead, or his micro-expressions of excruciating agony. I leaned against the curtain backstage, watching Sebastian with intense interest. Mr. Reed, it must hurt a lot, doesn’t it? That’s laxative, after all. Sebastian wasn’t innocent. In my past life, Audrey being able to take my place on stage was fully aided by him in the dark. Originally, there were much better PR methods to smooth over my minor absence. But he specifically chose to be Audrey’s advocate. He convinced my grandparents that, for the sake of the Thornton family’s reputation, they should go with the flow and make Audrey the star of the piano show. He said, since Audrey was already treated like a real sister, I wouldn’t mind. The entire reason was that he thought I was just a rich piece of trash who had absolutely no right to be his student. Only someone as naturally gifted as Audrey deserved the guidance of the Piano Prince. “The Thornton family just has a little money, they don’t understand art at all. Stella is a mediocrity, she isn’t worthy of high art.” Those were the words he said while toasting with Audrey at my funeral. He seemed to have forgotten that he used to be a nameless nobody from a regular music conservatory. Who was it that paved his path with starlight? As the piece ended, Sebastian’s face was deathly pale. He bowed to the audience, then practically sprinted off the stage, making a beeline for the restroom. The host took the script and calmly went on stage to buy time for Sebastian. But no matter how professional the host was, they couldn’t stall for that long. Sebastian was unleashing a waterfall in the bathroom. The audience was getting restless and started whispering. The organizers sitting in the front row looked incredibly grim. Audrey stared blankly at the empty stage. She still had no idea her mentor had suffered a catastrophic blowout in the bathroom. The timing was perfect. I elegantly lifted the hem of my gown and walked gracefully onto the stage. Catching my eye signal, the host quickly reacted and immediately introduced me: “And now, please welcome Mr. Sebastian Reed’s sole disciple, the heiress of the Thornton Group, Miss Stella Thornton!” A wave of commotion swept through the hall, and countless camera flashes fired at me. I smiled gently, acknowledging the audience’s applause. In the audience, Audrey clutched her dress, her face shifting between green and white. She looked utterly horrific. 9 I played the remaining pieces that Sebastian was supposed to perform. I had memorized all those pieces perfectly long ago. This comeback concert for the musical genius completely transformed into my debut stage. Listening to the thunderous applause from the audience, I proudly lifted my chin, soaking in all the glory. Compared to Audrey, my natural aptitude was indeed average. But I worked hard. I started playing piano at 5 years old. Even if I hadn’t always taken it seriously, the foundation was there. Sebastian despising my “stupidity” was just because I didn’t take his lessons seriously to begin with. Because I despised his pretentious, pseudo-intellectual act. As the curtain fell, Sebastian finally emerged from the bathroom. His face was stiff as he walked to the front of the stage. Seeing the reporters below, he forced a smile and stood next to me for the final bow. “Stella, you did this on purpose.” I heard his low, teeth-gritting voice. I looked at him with an innocent expression. “Mr. Reed, what are you talking about? I don’t understand. I was just saving the show.” Sebastian’s expression froze; he seemed to believe me. “But Mr. Reed, why do you smell like crap?” 10 My debut was a massive success. Grandpa took the whole family to treat Sebastian to a celebratory dinner. “Sebastian, I heard about the little accident. I’ve already had the PR department handle it. It won’t have a major impact on you.” The PR department successfully shifted the focus onto me. No one paid attention to Sebastian’s embarrassing interlude. After all, my identity was far more newsworthy to the public. Sebastian politely thanked Grandpa, but his expression was incredibly unnatural. His spotlight was stolen. He was an arrogant man; naturally, he was resentful. Normally, he would have dug into the cause and refused to let it go. The fact that he remained silent meant he had probably already touched base with his star pupil, Audrey, and realized I had played them. “Grandpa, Mr. Reed has always been a meticulous person, very attentive to his condition before a performance. There must have been an error somewhere.” I said, locking eyes with a guilty-looking Audrey. “Mr. Reed, I’ve already had people investigate all your food and drink intake before taking the stage. We will definitely find the truth.” Sebastian’s face darkened. He immediately forced a smile and said, “No need, no need. It was probably just an upset stomach from catching a chill.” “Don’t say that, Mr. Reed. Arthur just said the results are out, and they’ve been sent straight to my phone.” Wanting to sweep this under the rug? Not that easy. You owe me, and you’re going to pay it back. I held up my phone, and a ding sounded. Panic flashed in the eyes of the two co-conspirators. I opened my phone to check, then placed the phone on the table, displaying the screen to Audrey sitting across from me. “Sister, it says here there were laxatives in the coffee.” “But wait, wasn’t this the coffee you bought for me?”

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I was childhood best friends with the male lead and the second male lead. Knowing that they would both eventually fall head over heels for the “pure and innocent” female lead, I chose to sit back, sip my champagne, and watch the show. I watched them drop millions at my family’s casinos just to make her smile. I watched them get into bidding wars, spending astronomical sums at charity galas to win my ordinary jewelry, all to coax her out of a bad mood. I originally thought I could just keep counting my money while happily observing their melodramatic love triangle. But later, the way they looked at me completely changed. 01 The first time I saw Maya Winston was at a VIP-only private club in Manhattan. I was leaning against the marble wall, bored to tears, waiting for the elevator. The ambiguous commotion from the two people next to me was getting on my nerves. I turned my head. A greasy, balding middle-aged man dripping in gaudy jewelry was clutching a heavily intoxicated young girl. Honestly, this kind of thing wasn’t rare in high society—if the girl hadn’t been wearing a local prep school uniform. I evaluated the girl with cold detachment. She was delicate and pretty, her eyelashes wet, her face flushed with an unnatural, feverish red. She looked like a fragile white camellia slowly blooming in the dead of winter. The older man’s fleshy, heavy hand was reaching under her blazer. She seemed completely out of it, only managing to mumble: “Mmh… let go… I have to go to my shift… to earn my tuition…” The man let out a sleazy chuckle: “You just be a good girl and come meet the big boss with me today. If you perform well, forget about tuition, I’ll pluck the stars from the sky for you.” I watched them impassively for a moment. When the elevator doors slowly slid open, I reached out and blocked their path. “Mister, drugging a minor and attempting assault is a federal offense.” The man clearly didn’t expect anyone to interfere. With a gentle pull, I yanked the girl out of his grasp and into my arms. He froze, then flew into a rage: “Which arrogant little brat dares to ruin my business?!” “You’re quoting the law to me? Even if I took a dump on the police commissioner’s desk, they wouldn’t dare touch me!” “If you know what’s good for you, get lost. If you ruin the big boss’s mood, I’ll have to drag you up there to apologize too.” He raised his hand, ready to strike. I let out a soft scoff. Applying a sharp burst of pressure to his arm, a crisp crack echoed through the hall. I dislocated his wrist on the spot. I loosely supported the girl, smiling at him: “Who exactly is this ‘big boss’ of yours? Drop a name. I’d love to see which major player in New York I supposedly don’t know.” Perhaps my tone was a little too arrogant, because the man’s face, already contorted in pain, paled instantly. The people who frequented this club were all wealthy and powerful. But even within the elite circle, there is a strict hierarchy. It all comes down to whose platinum spoon is heavier. He gritted his teeth, refusing to back down completely: “Who the fuck are you?” I tilted my chin up, radiating the absolute arrogance of a top-tier dynasty heir. I flatly dropped two words: “Eden Crawford.” The moment the words left my lips, the man transformed from a snarling boar into a terrified, shivering quail. His shoulders trembled, and he began bowing profusely: “Miss Crawford… I… I was deeply out of line…” Before he could finish his groveling, I cut him off: “Save it.” “For the injury to your wrist, you can take your medical bills to the Crawford Estate for reimbursement.” The man shook even harder. “I wouldn’t dare! I wouldn’t dare!” “If you wouldn’t dare, then get the hell out of my sight.” Watching him practically run for his life, a mocking smirk touched the corner of my mouth. I looked down at the girl in my arms, intending to wake her up. “Hey, are you okay…” Before I could finish, she frowned in deep discomfort. The very next second, she threw up all over me. I took a deep breath, feeling my temples throb violently. I gripped her jaw firmly, suppressing the overwhelming urge to strangle her. “You really want to die, don’t you?” I only stepped in because I was bored and had a fleeting moment of sympathy. If I had known the result would be my custom Balenciaga gown getting covered in vomit, I would have walked into that elevator without a second glance. But the moment my fingertips touched her, a strange, mechanical voice echoed in my mind— [Ding!] [The Heroine has come online.] 02 It happened in an instant. A barrage of flashbacks and information rushed through my brain. The girl in front of me, Maya Winston. She was the innocent, “white lotus” heroine of a reverse-harem, high-stakes romance novel. Like a piece of pure, fragile glass. And the Male Lead and Second Male Lead revolving around her? They were the two men I had grown up with, my childhood best friends. The Male Lead, Caleb Sterling, and the Second Male Lead, Jackson Ryder. And me? I was the quintessential “Villainess.” Because I despised how effortlessly the heroine captured the attention of the men around me, I would constantly plot against her. My ending was miserable: universally despised, kicked out of the Crawford family with nothing but the clothes on my back. Spending the rest of my life rotting in a psychiatric ward. Pure melodrama. Pure garbage. I was slightly dazed when a familiar, cold voice sounded behind me: “Eden.” I turned my head to see Caleb Sterling walking toward me. “Why haven’t you gone up yet?” He was dressed in a tailored suit, radiating a noble, untouchable aloofness. As he looked at me, his gaze unintentionally brushed over the barely conscious Maya. I was about to speak, but Maya suddenly lunged toward Caleb. She moved so fast that Caleb instinctively stretched out his arms to catch her by the waist. Perhaps the broad, warm chest of the man gave the girl a sense of a safe harbor. She struggled in Caleb’s arms for a few seconds, then her eyes fluttered shut, and she passed out completely. Me: “…” As expected of the protagonists. Even their meeting was explosively dramatic. Caleb still maintained some gentlemanly grace. He looked down at Maya in his arms, then at the disgusting mess of vomit on my dress. After only a brief hesitation, he said to me in a gentle tone: “I’ll have someone take you to get cleaned up.” “No need.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose in sheer annoyance. “Go up and tell Jackson I’m skipping tonight’s gathering. You guys have fun.” Caleb didn’t argue. He nodded and said flatly: “Yeah, I’m not going up either.” I shot him a questioning glance. Caleb shifted his arms, scooping Maya up in a bridal carry, and said without changing his expression: “I’m taking her home.” 03 As the orthodox heir personally groomed by the Crawford family, my adaptability has always been excellent. That very night, I fully digested the fact that I was the “Villainess.” Since fighting with Maya led to a terrible ending… I would simply stay as far away from her as possible. Furthermore, the idea of me going head-to-head with a little white flower over two men? I couldn’t help but find it absurdly hilarious. Granted, as the heirs to the Sterling and Ryder empires, they were top-tier. Caleb Sterling was brilliant but cold-hearted, an untouchable flower on a high peak. Jackson Ryder was the exact opposite: rebellious, untamable, a notorious playboy in our circle. Even my mother would occasionally pull me aside and whisper, “Which one of them do you like more?” And I would usually just offer a speechless smile. The training model for high-society heirs has always employed the laws of the jungle. The Vanity Fair is constantly shifting; there’s always new money trying to rise to the top. Instead of saying Caleb, Jackson, and I were childhood sweethearts… It would be more accurate to say we were three vicious wolves who grew up together and shared a relatively close alliance. When necessary, we wouldn’t hesitate to swallow each other whole to strengthen our own empires. Therefore, most of the time, I just smiled and spectated their melodramatic romantic entanglements. As long as it didn’t interfere with my business, I didn’t mind treating it as a source of entertainment. Of course, occasionally, I would make a healthy profit off them too— For example, taking them to the Crawford family casinos in Macau, watching them drop millions trying to impress Maya. The uglier their expressions got, the higher the chips stacked, and the happier I smiled. Or, watching them engage in astronomical bidding wars over my ordinary jewelry just to coax a smile out of Maya. When I finally walked on stage as the host to present the flowers… Jackson’s face was ashen. He finally couldn’t hold back, gritting his teeth: “You managed to fleece us again, you little brat.” Caleb, standing next to him, just shook his head with a helpless smile. I wore a sly grin on my lips, winking at them, but my gaze collided with Maya’s. Her eyes were gentle but complicated. I could read envy, awkwardness, and another incomprehensible emotion within them. I paused, gave her a symbolic hug, and placed the bouquet in her arms: “Congratulations.” 04 I originally thought I would never tire of watching them play this love triangle game. Until the gala for my 18th birthday. My grand coming-of-age ceremony was held at a luxury hotel controlled by the Crawford family. The Crawfords invited everyone who was anyone. The vast, luxurious ballroom was filled with dazzling gowns, fragrant flowers, and the elite of society. My father officially transferred several subsidiaries under the Crawford Group to my name. And I, wearing the elegant gown my mother had chosen, blew out my birthday candles under the spotlight. I displayed a massive check from my years of savings, ready to be donated to a charity foundation. With tears in my eyes, I delivered a speech about my grand ambitions for adulthood. Since I was a child, I knew that acting and etiquette were mandatory courses in my life. Therefore, even though I felt incredibly bored and unenthused at that moment… I still naturally displayed a blissfully happy smile, performing flawlessly until the very end of the ceremony. However, just as I was politely holding the microphone to conclude, a piercing scream erupted from the floor. Accompanied by the dull, sickening sound of fists smashing into flesh and bone. The crowd gasped in horror and looked over— My two good friends. Jackson was pinning Caleb to the ground, the veins on his forehead bulging as he rained punches down on Caleb’s face. Maya was crying, desperately pulling at Jackson’s clothes. The crowd quickly reacted, pulling them apart. And just like that, nearly everyone knew that the heirs of the Sterling and Ryder families had gotten into a physical brawl over a Cinderella at my coming-of-age ceremony. Older guests reprimanded them: “This is a disgrace!” I just watched quietly for a moment, then walked off the stage under the scrutinizing gazes of the crowd. Caleb hung his head; I couldn’t read his expression. Jackson stared fiercely at him, still radiating murderous intent. As I walked past Maya, I cast a cold, indifferent glance at her. That single look scared her into taking two steps back. I stopped in front of Jackson, parting my lips in a light, perfectly innocent smile. “Jackson, is this the birthday present you got me?” Jackson looked at me, snapping out of his rage, and froze for a second. “Eden, I—” Before he could finish, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. A crisp SMACK echoed. In the crowd, someone drew a sharp breath. Maya’s face turned completely white. Even Caleb couldn’t help but look up. I merely withdrew my hand with a look of pure apathy, casually wiping it with a silk handkerchief. “Jackson, are you thinking clearly now?” Since this was Crawford territory, the bodyguards had already surrounded us. No one dared to move. Before Jackson could speak, Maya lunged forward and shoved me away. She questioned me with righteous indignation: “You don’t even know what happened! What gives you the right to hit him?!” “Jackson was… he was just standing up for me…” “This is all my fault. If you’re going to blame someone, blame me!” I looked at her and gave a shallow smile: “Sure.” “Then please take the bill for all the fixtures they just smashed, along with the invoice for that custom Balenciaga dress you ruined last time, and settle it.” Maya’s face instantly dropped several shades paler. She bit her lower lip, looking agonizingly conflicted: “I… I’ll work hard and pay it back…” “Eden, I know that because of my appearance lately, Jackson and Caleb have been ignoring you. You two used to be so close, it’s natural you hold some resentment. But no matter what, this incident started because of me. I hope it won’t affect your friendship.” I smiled placidly: “Miss Winston, I’m not talking to you about feelings. I’m talking to you about money.” “With your current part-time jobs, how long do you expect me to wait for you to pay it off?” Maya’s tears were truly magical; they fell on command. “…Then what do you want?” The smile in my eyes faded as I spoke coldly: “I don’t want anything. I just want to tell you something.” “If you can’t afford to play the game, don’t interfere.” “Since you weren’t the one throwing punches, don’t pretend to be weak and step up to take the blame. Do you really think shedding two tears means you don’t have to face any consequences? Or did you intentionally let them fight just to humiliate me?” Maya squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, looking utterly tormented. “I’m sorry… I really didn’t know they would do this…” In the crowd, someone let out a cold scoff. My mother, radiating aristocratic elegance, walked over to my side. She looked down at Maya with intimidating authority. “Is my daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony your personal relationship counseling center?” “Maya Winston, is it? I recall that your name was not on the Crawford family’s guest list, and I have no idea who brought you in.” “But since you’re here, I assumed you came to offer your blessings.” “Yet here you are, crying and whining, bringing bad luck to my daughter.” “Security, please escort this impolite young lady out.” I suppressed a smile and glanced at my mother. I really wanted to say, Mom, the way we’re acting right now makes us look exactly like villainesses. The standoff made the atmosphere incredibly awkward. Ultimately, it was our Male Lead who stepped in to save the day. Caleb pulled out a check and pressed it onto a table. “Mrs. Crawford, I am deeply sorry for everything that happened today.” “I will cover all the damages for her.” Then, without another word, he grabbed the tearful Maya and left. Jackson’s face was dark. He wanted to follow them. But he was sharply smacked on the back of the head by his mother, who had been watching the drama unfold. She dragged him over to apologize to me. I looked at the ruined banquet hall, and then at the retreating backs of Caleb and Maya. A trace of genuine disgust flashed in my eyes. 05 After the birthday gala incident, I didn’t see those three for a very long time. Although I lost a major source of entertainment, I was perfectly content. After all, as we grew older, who knew what those three lunatics would do next for their ridiculous romance? It was better to stay away. Furthermore, since taking over several subsidiaries of the Crawford Group, I spent every day racing against the clock to earn my college credits, while also navigating endless business dinners and networking events that frequently left me with a fever and gastritis. However, since the Crawford, Sterling, and Ryder families had been allies for years, running into them eventually was inevitable. But what I didn’t expect was that the first person to seek me out would be Maya. I squeezed some time out of my busy schedule to meet her. We met at a cafe. After six months, Maya had transformed from the impoverished Cinderella into a polished socialite. Her flawless makeup and designer clothes proved that the Male Lead was taking very good care of her. I smiled lightly and gave her a brief greeting. Maya tried to exchange a few pleasantries, but I simply took a sip of my coffee and gestured for her to get to the point. Immediately after, I watched her pull a stack of documents from her bag and hand them to me. I flipped through them, my expression darkening with every page. It detailed how Maya’s father had been framed and sent to prison to take the fall for a high-ranking official in New York. Finally, I tossed the file onto the table, looking at her with a cold sneer. “What is the meaning of this?” Maya blinked at me, smiling radiantly. “Eden, people who get angry easily get ugly.” I took two slow breaths. In the next second, I threw my entire cup of coffee right into her face. “You also know I don’t have a good temper.” “So are you planning to speak some human language I can actually understand?” Maya didn’t get angry. She slowly and methodically wiped the coffee off her face. Her gaze drifted toward the window, seemingly unfocused. She spoke slowly: “The Crawford family has massive influence in New York. Pulling my father out of prison shouldn’t be too difficult for you.” Oh, I knew this trope well. Having a relative who took the fall and went to prison is practically the standard backstory for the tragic Cinderella heroine in most romance novels. But Maya’s current attitude was entirely unlike someone asking for a favor. It felt more like a provocation, a taunt, waiting for me to fall into a trap. I smiled: “You want my help? Sure.” “You can start right here. Kneel, and take one step and one bow all the way to the Chrysler Building three miles away. The whole time, you have to shout that I am your master. If you can do that, I might consider it.” “After all, if you’re asking for a favor, I need to see your sincerity.” As soon as I finished speaking, I understood what Maya’s so-called trap was. Because right then, a tall, imposing figure appeared at the entrance of the cafe. Caleb Sterling’s brow was furrowed in gloom, his face terrifyingly cold. Seeing Maya’s pitiful, dripping state, he first took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. After comforting her for a moment, he turned to me and said: “Eden, you’re going too far.” “Apologize to Maya for what you just said.” I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help but curse: “You two are absolute idiots.” I grabbed my bag and walked out of the cafe without looking back. But a sliver of doubt lingered in my mind. Was Maya really the sweet, innocent “white lotus” heroine from the sweet romance novel? Why were her tactics so clumsy and obvious? Are the standards for being a female lead really this low nowadays? But before I could figure it out, I paid the price— An investment deal I had spent six months personally securing fell through. Just as the deal was about to close, the partnering firm claimed they received an anonymous file. The file exposed a fatal, hidden risk in the manufacturing process of the investment product, and alleged that it utilized stolen, patented overseas technology. Not only that, the opposing party brought in Legacy Advisors, a notoriously ruthless top-tier investment firm, to issue a detailed analysis of the product’s value and future development. In short, every line of the report screamed pessimism. I stared at my computer screen for a long time, my face devoid of expression. I knew this was Caleb’s warning. It was his punishment for me offending Maya. This business—from the investment to the product—aside from being registered under a Crawford subsidiary, was completely independent of the Crawford family’s core assets. I had pulled in several senior researchers from my university, and our team worked day and night on R&D. The so-called high-pollution manufacturing process in that file was only the initial prototype. And the partners involved in the alleged tech theft had long been kicked out for unethical behavior. Explaining this would be easy. But I didn’t expect Caleb to have the patience and determination to do this. To throw me under the bus, he even dragged in the top analysts from Legacy Advisors. It was like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the violent urge to smash the computer monitor to pieces. I suddenly realized that being the “Villainess” wasn’t without reason. I always knew I wasn’t a particularly “good” person. At the very least, I had a fiercely vindictive heart. Caleb Sterling, since you chose to play games with me, I will play you until you’re dead. 06 I opened the chaotic group chat. The screen was flooded with panicked messages about the broken supply chain and funding gap. I sighed and typed a message to comfort them: “Don’t worry, everyone. I’ll ask my parents for help.” That single sentence acted like an anchor. The chat went silent for a moment, followed by cheers of relief. I stared at the screen, feeling irritated. I was the one who swore I wanted to build something entirely my own. Now, I was the one who had to rely on the Crawfords and beg my parents for help. It was impossible not to feel disappointed. I distractedly scrolled through the unread messages on my phone. I caught a snippet of conversation in a group chat full of second-generation rich kids: “Man, we’re all the same age, but Caleb’s tech startup is already preparing for an IPO, while I’m still messing around on my family’s ranch in Australia.” “Obviously. Caleb has always been the golden boy. How can we compete with him?” “…” My eyes instantly locked onto the keyword in the conversation: Caleb’s company, Zenith Tech, was going public. Almost subconsciously, I recalled the original timeline plot points that had rushed into my brain earlier— The Sterling Group once faced a catastrophic crisis where their entire empire was on the verge of collapse. Core executives defected, and scandals erupted: tax evasion, quota fraud, stock manipulation, and rigged bidding. To save his family, Caleb was forced into an arranged marriage with me, using the Crawford family’s massive cash flow to turn the tide. This arranged marriage directly caused the first major breakup between the male and female leads, and it was a key factor in my ultimate tragic ending. And Caleb choosing to go public at this exact moment… I couldn’t help but deduce the reason— The Sterling family was out of money. Therefore, they desperately needed Zenith Tech to go public and secure a massive round of financing to save the Sterling parent company. I pondered for a moment, then dialed my father’s number. “Dad, I want to play a game.” … After the call ended, I locked my screen and let out a cold laugh. Since I’m the villainess, I might as well be evil to the core. Arranged marriage or an IPO—no matter which path Caleb chooses, I will block them both. 07 A luxurious, minimalist penthouse in the heart of prime real estate in Manhattan. When Jackson bought this place, he gave both Caleb and me a spare key. When I opened the door, the stench of stale smoke and alcohol hit me like a wall. The apartment was pitch black; the lights were off. But thanks to the neon city lights pouring in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, I could faintly make out a living creature slumped half-dead on the sofa. I flipped the light switch with a loud click. Jackson jumped up in terror. “Fuck!” He stared at me with wide eyes. He looked incredibly disheveled. I guessed he had realized he was the absolute loser in their twisted love triangle, and the blow was significant. Jackson ran a hand through his messy bedhead and covered his eyes, asking in a muffled voice: “Are you here to laugh at me too?” I kicked an empty liquor bottle out of my way and scoffed: “I heard Caleb played you pretty hard.” That’s what happens in a high-stakes reverse harem. “Motherfucker… don’t mention that bastard.” I sat down on the sofa, crossed my arms, rested my chin on my hands, and said in a negotiating tone: “Jackson, let’s get married.” The reason I chose Jackson was simple. Griffin Capital, owned by the Ryder family, was the largest investment firm in New York. To date, they had helped clients raise over ten billion dollars. And the current Chairman of Griffin Capital, the most famous IPO mastermind in the industry, was Jackson’s older brother, Noah Ryder—a massive protective older brother. Although Jackson himself was a playboy who only cared about having a good time… He was undoubtedly the happiest and most pampered heir in our elite circle. Ignoring Jackson’s expression—which looked like he had just seen a ghost—I leaned in closer and chuckled: “I’m serious.” “Anyway, we’ll all end up in arranged marriages eventually. We grew up together, we know everything about each other. Aren’t we each other’s best option?” After I finished, I pulled a pre-drafted contract from my bag and laid it on the coffee table. “I haven’t reached the legal age to marry yet, so for now, we’ll just be engaged for a year. During this time, as long as you don’t cause any public scandals that embarrass our families, I won’t interfere in your business. And I expect the same from you.” “Watching Caleb and Maya being so lovey-dovey every day… doesn’t it make you sick?” “I heard Caleb’s little tech company is going public. Don’t you want to play a game with him?” “Jackson, we’ll all have to step up to the capital poker table eventually.” “Why not enter the game right now?” Jackson stared at me for a long time, then asked out of nowhere: “Eden, you don’t actually like me, do you?” I crossed my arms, looking at him quietly, not bothering to answer. No matter how Jackson interpreted it, as long as he nodded and agreed, it wasn’t a bad deal for me. An eerie silence settled between us. A moment later, Jackson tapped a cigarette out of a pack, placed it between his lips, and squinted at me. I took two steps forward, leaned over, and lit the cigarette for him. I looked him straight in the eyes and smirked. “Think it over.” “I’ll wait for your answer.” 08 After the news of my engagement to Jackson was announced. People in our circle joked that we were the “Broken Hearts Club.” I furrowed my brow, confused: “Whose heart did I break?” “Eden, did you forget? You used to be obsessed with Caleb when you were little. As soon as you learned how to write, you were eager to write him love letters.” Even though I had completely forgotten, it didn’t stop me from sneering: “That was eight hundred years ago. Why bring it up now?” The person joking immediately paled and hurriedly apologized. On the day of our engagement party, Caleb and Maya arrived as expected. Maya looked worried, speaking softly to Jackson: “Jackson, even though I rejected you… I still hope you find true happiness in the future. Don’t be with someone you don’t love just to spite me.” Jackson already looked annoyed just seeing her, and this pushed him over the edge. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the most rebellious heir in our circle looked furious. He pointed at Maya, his warning clear: “Shut the fuck up.” “Who the hell do you think you are? What does my marriage have to do with you?” The gossip cells in everyone’s bodies were activated. They scanned the room for Caleb, hoping the conflict would escalate. Unfortunately for them, they were disappointed. Because at that moment, Caleb had cornered me on the second-floor balcony. He looked conflicted, saying flatly: “Why did you get engaged so suddenly? I remember you didn’t even like Jackson.” I leaned against the crimson railing, raising an eyebrow with a smile: “If I don’t like him, does that mean I have to like you?” Caleb’s expression didn’t change. He simply spoke seriously, like an older brother: “Eden, I’ve always seen you as a sister.” “Marriage is not a trivial matter. If this is truly a decision from your heart, I have no objections.” “I wish you both happiness.” I acted as if I had just heard a hilarious joke. I laughed and retorted: “What kind of brother personally destroys his sister’s project—one she spent six months building?” “Legacy Advisors usually handles multi-million and billion-dollar deals, yet you used them to crush my little product that hasn’t even hit the market.” “Caleb, we’ve known each other for over a decade. We’re childhood friends. But you really wanted to drive me into a corner, didn’t you?” Caleb frowned, hesitating: “You went too far that time. Maya is just a defenseless girl. You didn’t need to make things so difficult for her…” Before he could finish, I slapped him across the face. Caleb’s face turned to the side. He lowered his eyes, his expression still unreadable. I gently blew on my fingertips, nodded, and said sincerely: “I won’t make things difficult for her.” Because the person I want to make things difficult for is you. “This slap settles our past grievances. We’re even now.” “I heard your company is going public. To celebrate clearing the air, Jackson and I decided to give you a big gift.” Caleb looked surprised but didn’t say anything else. He turned and walked away. I watched his retreating back, a mocking smirk on my lips. Even? Keep dreaming.

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On the first day of college, I found out my roommate was a former patient from the psychiatric ward where I was hospitalized. When her mother saw me, she threw a massive fit in the dorm, demanding I be expelled. “She has bipolar disorder! What if she goes crazy and kills someone?!” I pulled out my medical clearance, and although I was allowed to stay, I was subjected to endless side-eyes and whispers. My roommate kept apologizing to me, crying and begging me not to expose her own medical history. Later, she wreaked havoc in the dorm, stealing our suitemates’ clothes and framing me for it, taking their makeup and falsely accusing me. When she had a mental breakdown over a breakup and tried to jump off a building, I saved her—only for her to tell everyone I pushed her. I was forcibly committed to a mental asylum and tortured to death. Reborn into this life, I slapped her right across the face! Yeah, that’s right, I’m a psycho! 1 “What kind of cheap bedding is this? It’s absolute garbage. Don’t associate with this kind of student, she’s definitely dead broke… ” “…Why is it you?” “She’s a psycho! What if she has an episode and kills someone?” The shrill voice of Chloe’s mother pierced my ears. She was currently pointing at me, screaming a barrage of insults. I froze for a moment, in a daze, realizing I had been reborn and returned to my very first day of freshman year. “How can this university admit a mental patient?” “Hurry! Go get your RA! She’s a psycho! We have to kick her out!” My roommates, who had just been defending me a moment ago, were now looking at me with strange, fearful expressions. On move-in day, I was the first one to arrive at the dorm. When I came back from getting some water, the bed I had meticulously made was tossed haphazardly onto the floor. “The window is too drafty, and the door is too close to the light switch. You can sleep over there, it’s perfect.” Just like today, Chloe’s mother had stolen my chosen bed. When she turned around and saw me, there was not a single word of apology. Instead, she started screaming in the dorm that I was a psycho and demanded I be kicked out. In my past life, burdened by my history of bipolar disorder, I felt inferior and terrified. I treaded on eggshells and didn’t utter a word in my defense. “Mom, stop it… ” “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Chloe dragged her mother out the door while apologizing to me. Afterward, she pulled me aside, crying and begging me not to tell anyone about her medical history. “My mom is just overly worried about me. I am truly, incredibly sorry.” During her senior year of high school, the immense academic pressure her family put on her caused her to develop severe clinical depression. At the time, her symptoms were so severe she suffered from mutism and incontinence. As a fellow high school senior who was hospitalized, I knew exactly how agonizing that journey was. My mother had passed away when I was born. I thought to myself, if my mother were still alive, would she worry about me like this too? In a moment of soft-heartedness, I let it go. After all, it was her mother who threw my bedding on the floor, not her. But what I didn’t know back then was that Chloe later bought boba and snacks for the other roommates while I wasn’t around. Using the little incident on move-in day as a segue, she “bravely” confessed that she had suffered from depression in high school, and then dramatically embellished the story of our encounter in the psych ward. My roommates, heartbroken by her past, instantly went on high alert against me. This time, I would not endure it or back down. Before Chloe could even drag her mother out the dorm door… I walked straight over, ripped the sheets her mother had just laid down right off the bed, and tossed my own bedding back into its rightful place. “Yeah, that’s right! I am a psycho! And I don’t internalize my stress, I externalize it! ” “Chloe, please, I hope we can understand each other moving forward!” Chloe froze in shock. Her mother raised her voice and began reprimanding me: “Look! The psycho is having an episode! She actually ripped off the bed I spent half an hour making!” Still furious, she lunged at me, ready to strike. I ducked, dodging her hand, and as I stood back up, I delivered a stinging backhand right across her face! SMACK— Chloe’s mother’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. It made sense. After all, when we were in the hospital, I was a timid, cowardly kid who had no one looking out for her. Unwilling to take the hit, she tried to strike back, but was grabbed by our RA, who had rushed over. To pacify Chloe’s mother, the RA took them away first. The remaining girls in the dorm looked at each other in stunned silence. I simply pulled out my medical records and the official certificate of recovery issued by the hospital. “I did previously suffer from bipolar disorder, but I have never hurt anyone. Furthermore, after treatment, I have fully recovered. ” “My medical history has already been reported to the university, and I have signed the relevant agreements. If you feel uncomfortable with me, you can apply to the RA for a room transfer.” 2 During my senior year of high school, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. My dad called me a psycho and tried to force me to jump off the balcony. “You’re a psycho anyway, your whole life is ruined. You might as well do something useful. ” “Dad has no choice, I owe hundreds of thousands in gambling debts. I bought life insurance for you… ” “If you die, Dad’s debts will be paid off.” I barely made it out of that so-called home alive that day. Clutching the scholarship money I had saved over the years, I knelt on the floor and begged my dad. I told him I would make money to pay off his debts. I told him I was a straight-A student, and once I got into a good college and started working, I could make even more money for him. I don’t know if he was moved by my words, or if he just felt a brief moment of pity. He smoked a cigarette, and hesitated. I don’t remember how I escaped the house. I took a bus to my mother’s grave. It was only then that I dared to break down and cry. Later, my grandmother used her pension to pay for my hospitalization. I was hospitalized for two months, working hard to cooperate with the treatment. When I couldn’t sleep, I would get up, do practice tests, and study. Despite taking two months off from school, my grades didn’t slip. Instead, I ranked first in the five-school mock exams. I gave it everything I had and was accepted into a prestigious university far away in the North. That summer, I didn’t dare slack off for a single second. I worked three jobs a day. I left the house at 5 AM to collect recycling on the streets, cleaned a martial arts studio in the afternoon, and washed dishes at a restaurant at night. I lived frugally and finally scraped together enough for my freshman tuition. Once in college, not only did I have to keep up with my coursework, but I also had to earn my own living expenses. And every month, I still had to wire money to my dad. Later, when Chloe tried to commit suicide by jumping off a building and was saved, she was terrified her mother would yell at her, so she insisted I was the one who pushed her. To get revenge, her mother hired someone to investigate my family background. For the price of ten thousand dollars from her mother… My dad signed the papers, committing me to the mental asylum Chloe’s mother had arranged. In the end, I was tortured to death. In my past life, I always thought that since my mother was dead, I couldn’t afford to lose my father too. Even if he no longer loved me, I was still willing to help him pay off his debts. Yet he tried to take my life, time and time again. In this life, looking at the incoming call from my dad on my phone, I immediately hung up. 3 “I’m so incredibly sorry for disturbing everyone on move-in day. I brought boba for everyone, please forgive me.” Chloe placed a boba tea and some snacks on each roommate’s desk. Only my desk was empty. I had picked up a part-time job and had just come back to grab something. It was exactly this day. Chloe sighed, a layer of mist forming in her eyes. “During my senior year of high school, the academic pressure was so intense I developed clinical depression. ” “That time was so hard, I don’t even know how I survived it… ” “To be honest with you all, Victoria is a fellow patient I met while hospitalized. She has bipolar disorder, not like me, I just had depression… I’ve seen her manic episodes, it was truly terrifying. ” “And her family background isn’t great. Her dad is a gambling addict, and her mom was reportedly beaten to death by him… ” “My mom was just worried about me, which is why she acted like that on move-in day.” Bella took the boba tea and comforted her: “You didn’t do anything wrong. Manic episodes are inherently scary, you don’t need to apologize to anyone.” Mia blinked her big eyes and asked bluntly: “So is your depression cured now?” Chloe’s face suddenly didn’t look so good, as if she were about to cry. “It’s mostly cured. I promise it won’t affect anyone’s life or studies. ” “The doctor said I’m quite sensitive and need to live in a positive, uplifting environment. ” “That’s why my mom didn’t want me rooming with Victoria.” I couldn’t be bothered to stand by the door eavesdropping anymore and pushed the door right open. Seeing me, Chloe immediately changed her tune. “Vicky, I thought you went to your part-time job, so I didn’t get you a boba. How about this, you can have mine! I haven’t opened it yet.” I pushed the boba away: “A rat has skin, yet a person can be without dignity. A rat has a body, yet a person can be without manners. If a person has no manners, why don’t they just die?” Chloe was stunned for three seconds before she finally processed it. “Waaaaah—Vicky, why are you insulting me? ” “I really didn’t know you were coming back today, I didn’t leave you out on purpose.” Chloe lowered her head and started sobbing, looking incredibly wronged. “Forget insulting you to your face. If you can’t hear me clearly, I’ll carve it on your tombstone!” Bella’s savior complex flared up, and she stood up to shield Chloe. “Victoria, why are you being so toxic?” It was exactly like this in my past life. Every time Chloe shifted the blame onto me… Bella’s savior complex would go into overdrive, and she’d be the first to jump out and defend her. “None of your damn business!” “You!… ” Bella didn’t expect me to clap back directly. After all, she was the professor’s pet and the interim class president. In my past life, my financial aid spot was forcefully given to Chloe by her, manipulating the process from the inside. Chloe took that financial aid money, treated the roommates to a fancy dinner, bought the newest iPhone, and even paid for her HPV vaccine. “What do you mean ‘You’? ” “If I don’t want her boba, I’m toxic? Is her boba encrusted with diamonds? I don’t want it, and you’re calling me toxic? Is your brain filled with water and missing a drainpipe? ” “If you’re lacking a few brain cells, go get your atrociously underdeveloped mind checked out! ” “Hurry up and take your twisted morals to a doctor, early treatment means early recovery!” 4 A few days into the semester, I had completely burned my bridges with Chloe and Bella. In my past life, because I had the highest entrance exam scores in the class, I was nominated to run for the student council. But at the time, crippled by the stigma of my bipolar history, I withdrew my candidacy. Reborn into this life, I had completely changed my mindset. As long as your mindset is strong, you can mess with everyone else’s. If your mindset is weak, you’ll just end up getting messed with. I pushed past my internal anxiety and stood at the podium to deliver my campaign speech. When the speech ended, to my surprise, I was met with applause. Taking advantage of the moment the applause died down and the classroom went quiet, Chloe deliberately said in a cloying voice: “Vicky, you’re amazing! Even with bipolar disorder, you still ran for class president. Unlike me, I’ve never even run for a student council position.” Yep, the whole class heard it. Chloe covered her mouth in feigned surprise, then tried to cover it up: “It’s okay, it’s okay. Even though you have bipolar, I believe you can definitely do a great job.” Facing the stares of the entire class, I smiled and openly acknowledged my medical history. I directly posted photos of my hospital clearance and the enrollment agreement I signed with the university into the class group chat. [Wait, isn’t she the person featured in the latest episode of “Youth Onward” interviews?] [What “Youth Onward”?] [Here! This one, it’s trending.] [It really is her!] Soon, a classmate posted a video from “Youth Onward” into the class group chat. Many people started expressing their support for me. [Oh my god, she’s so inspiring!] [Seriously… I’m about to cry.] [Victoria, you have my vote!] Chloe watched the video in the group chat, her face turning completely black. In the end, I successfully secured a spot on the student council with the top three highest votes. The content creator behind “Youth Onward” was someone I met at 5 AM while collecting recycling on the streets. He gave me fifty bucks and asked if I would record a video interview. I was desperate for money at the time, so I agreed. In my past life, I didn’t want my bipolar history exposed, so I made an agreement with the creator to release the video only after I graduated from college. Why was it released early now? Perhaps it was the butterfly effect of being reborn? I didn’t expect it would end up helping me out so much right now. After the election, Bella was demoted from interim class president to the activities coordinator. She was very unhappy. Back in the dorm, Chloe was trying hard to comfort her: “It’s okay. Look at Victoria, her popularity was so high, but she still didn’t get class president, did she? Just a useless academic representative. ” “Being the activities coordinator is great! You interact with the professors a lot, and in the future, when you organize events, you’ll get to know all the outstanding upperclassmen. ” “Unlike me. Victoria liked your Instagram post, but she didn’t like mine. Because you’re the activities coordinator, she looks up to you, but me… ” I pulled back my bed curtain and fired right back: “Whether I become class president or not, whether it’s useless or not, is none of your damn business! ” “Like your post? You posted ‘Good things come to those who wait.’ What exactly did you want me to ‘like’ about that? ” “If you want to be a donkey, hurry up and go grind some wheat! ” “The deepest oceans have nothing on the shallowness of your mouth! ” “If I hear you talking shit about me behind my back again, I’m going to wring your neck!” I raised my hand as if I was going to slap her. Chloe broke down, her mouth turning down into a pout, and she burst into loud sobs. 5 Even more miraculously, after we had explicitly burned our bridges… Chloe actually asked me to help her do a group project. “Vicky, you’re the academic representative. I really don’t know how to do this part, can you help me with it?” I shoved my book into my backpack and glanced at her laptop. “You don’t know how to do it. How is that my problem?” “Vicky… you… I already apologized to you, why are you… ? Waaaaah… ” Chloe had another breakdown. Saint Bella arrived on the scene immediately: “Victoria, why are you bullying Chloe again? ” “Besides, this is our dorm’s group project. If it’s not done well, won’t it affect your grade too? What’s the big deal with helping out a little? ” “Chloe, ignore her! I’ll ask a senior to help us.” A senior? Isn’t that the same scumbag, Liam, who drove Chloe to suicide? I really wanted to see if, in this life, Chloe was still beyond saving. 6 Group projects were basically assigned by dorm rooms. In my past life, for the sake of living peacefully with my roommates… I ended up doing the vast majority of our group’s work by myself. But every time the grades came out, they all shared the credit equally. In this life, I decisively split from the dorm group before the assignments were finalized. Although the RA had previously rejected my request for a room transfer… He agreed to let me work independently on the project without any hesitation. To complete the project better as a solo team, I practically lived in the library for the past few days. There was a botanical garden on the first floor of the library. It had very few desks and chairs, making it the most sought-after spot in the entire building. Students either had to arrive super early to grab a seat or leave their books there in advance to reserve it. There was an unwritten rule in the “seat reserving” community: if no one showed up by 10 AM, the seat was considered vacant and could be used by others. I arrived early today, it was only 9 AM, and there were only a few people in the library. But the book I had left on my seat inside was thrown onto a seat right next to a drafty vent. I picked up my book and looked toward my original seat. It was Chloe and her boyfriend, Liam. They were staring at a laptop, looking like they were discussing the project. But they were giggling and messing around, and Liam’s hand had reached from Chloe’s shoulder all the way down to her chest. Gross. I grabbed my book, intending to head to the second-floor study room. As I walked past Chloe, I chose to ignore her. But Chloe’s voice reached my ears. “Vicky! Couldn’t find a seat? ” “If you want to sit in the botanical garden next time, you have to get here earlier. ” “My seat here was reserved by Liam super early this morning.” Hearing this, I stopped in my tracks. “You’re saying he reserved this seat super early this morning?” Liam removed his hand from Chloe’s body and sat up straight. He ran a greasy hand through his hair, nodding with what he thought was a handsome smirk. He deliberately lowered his voice: “Yeah, I got here super early today.” “Aren’t you that Victoria from ‘Youth Onward’? Call me ‘babe,’ and I’ll save a seat for you next time too.” Chloe poked Liam, clearly displeased. “I thought you only saved seats for me.” Yuck! I seriously wanted to throw up. I took my book and SMACKED it down hard on their table. “Does this book look familiar to you? ” “Does it look like the one you threw out of here bright and early this morning?” Liam glanced at my book, shaking his head, refusing to admit it. “Victoria! What do you mean by that? You’re not allowed to slander Liam!” I picked up my book, disgustedly dusting it off. “Heh, Dumb and Dumber, you guys are truly a match made in heaven.” “Victoria!” Liam slammed the table and stood up, aiming a slap right at my face! I was caught off guard. “Victoria! Let me tell you, even if you are a psycho, I’m not afraid of you! ” “This slap is me paying you back for my future mother-in-law!” It happened so suddenly, before I could even react, I was knocked to the floor. Liam lunged at me, ready to keep hitting me, but Chloe grabbed his sleeve. “Liam, don’t lower yourself to the level of a psycho.” Chloe looked like she was breaking up a fight, but the corners of her mouth were turned up in a smirk she couldn’t hide. I pushed myself up from the floor. “Alright! Since you threw the first punch, let’s go!” Under Chloe’s watchful eyes, I beat the absolute crap out of Liam. I avoided any vital organs, but I hit him where it hurt the most. Liam clutched his knees, groaning in pain, unable to stand up. Over the summer, leaving early and coming home late, manual labor had built up my muscles. While I was cleaning the martial arts studio, the master knew I was doing it to earn tuition money and took great care of me. During his free time, he taught me quite a few moves for self-defense. “Liam, are you okay? ” “Victoria?! How could you hit him? I… I’m going to tell the RA!” I dusted off my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “Fine, go tell him, I’m ready whenever. There are security cameras here, it’s crystal clear who threw the first punch. ” “I suggest when you watch the footage, you also take a good look at exactly how he ‘reserved’ the seat this morning.” Chloe looked at Liam. Liam gritted his teeth, kept his head down, and backed out. Chloe broke down, letting out a wail and bursting into tears. 7 In the end, Chloe didn’t report the incident to the RA. But it blew up on the campus forum. An anonymous post uploaded a heavily edited video of me fighting Liam. [To steal a seat, a bipolar freshman has a manic episode and violently assaults an innocent classmate.] As soon as the post went up, it was pushed to the top of the trending page. [Psychos really are ruthless when they snap. One girl beat a guy up that badly.] [Terrifying. Psychos can go to college now? Our living environment is so dangerous.] [I know her, she’s usually very emotionally stable. Must be a misunderstanding, right?] [I’ve been to the library the past few days too. She gets there really early every day and likes to sit in the northeast corner. I remember she leaves a book to reserve her seat every day. The time on this video is clearly before 10 AM, so her seat was stolen, right?] [Even if her seat was stolen, she shouldn’t have gone crazy and hit someone.] … The video was clearly from the botanical garden’s security cameras. Usually, without written approval from the RA, it’s incredibly difficult for students to check the security footage. I had no idea who released this footage. Soon, many upperclassmen from other departments started reporting to the university administration, demanding my expulsion. My former hostile roommate, Bella, also started messaging me: [Vicky, I feel like your mental state hasn’t been great lately. Why don’t you take a leave of absence and go home to rest for a bit?] [I’m fine, no need, thanks.] I replied to Bella, but she kept relentlessly urging me to take a leave of absence. I simply muted her chat window. The incident continued to escalate until the forum admins finally locked the thread. The RA found me, demanding I go to a local hospital for a re-evaluation, stating I could only continue attending classes if I brought back a medical clearance certificate. I agreed to his demand and planned to go for the checkup the next day. But that very night, I was kicked out of the dorm by the RA and a few students he brought with him. I didn’t even have time to pack my things. “What right do you have to kick me out?” The RA looked down his nose at me: “Victoria, your current mental state poses a threat to the safety of the other students. Please stay off-campus until your test results come back. ” “You can also contact your family immediately to come to the university and handle this.” The RA knew about my family situation. Contact my family? How could I possibly call the father who repeatedly tried to get me killed? “Sir, how am I threatening the safety of other students? I brought my medical clearance before the semester started, and I signed the agreements the university required. ” “If you’re talking about the video on the campus forum, if you just go look at the full security footage, you’ll know exactly what the truth is.” The RA completely ignored my words, insisting that I leave the dorm that very night. “Then let’s let the police handle it.” I gripped my phone and started dialing. Seeing that I was about to call 911, the students pinned me down and snatched my phone. The RA threatened me: “Victoria, if you insist on blowing this up, you can forget about continuing your education here!” I clenched my fists tightly. But tears still traitorously fell down my face. Even after being reborn, could I still not escape this fate? It was only after I promised the RA I wouldn’t call the police that night and was escorted out the campus gates… That I finally got my phone back. The money in my pocket needed to be saved for the hospital checkup and the medical certificate. What was left wasn’t enough to cover a hotel room. I found an internet cafe near the campus gates and booked a computer for two consecutive nights. After getting the medical report and certificate from a local top-tier hospital, I rushed back to the university immediately. The RA looked at my medical certificate, frowned, and waved his hand, telling me to leave. I stood rooted to the spot, refusing to go. “You want a room transfer? Not possible, unless you can find a student willing to swap rooms with you yourself.” I shook my head: “Sir, did you go check the security footage from the botanical garden? That day, Liam threw the first punch, I was just acting in self-defense…” Before I could finish, the RA cut me off: “Victoria, the semester just started, and there have already been two major incidents because of your bipolar disorder. How did I get so unlucky to end up with a student like you! ” “I’m warning you, don’t cause any more trouble for me in the future, or I will personally file for your expulsion!” I tightly gripped my phone in my pocket, which was currently recording the conversation, and stayed silent.

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After being adopted by a wealthy family, my three older brothers hated me. When I performed in front of a crowd, my fingers were pierced by needles hidden under the piano keys. As blood poured from my hands, they stood in the crowd, watching with cold indifference. But in the middle of the night, someone slipped into my bed to secretly bandage my wounds. I called out softly, “Brother.” His fingers tightened, roughly bruising my lips. He gritted his teeth and demanded: “Do you even know which brother I am before you call out?” I lowered my eyes and stayed silent. It didn’t matter which one he was; he wasn’t the one I wanted to call “Brother.” 01 The news of rising star jewelry designer Chloe Vance returning to the US dominated the trending charts. In the video, she wore sunglasses and bright red lipstick, looking as radiant and captivating as a rose soaked in morning dew. Reporters shoved microphones in her face, swarming around her: “Miss Vance, we heard that the piece that won the International Gold Award was your debut work. Could you share your inspiration with us?” “Miss Vance, elements like doves and feathers frequently appear in your designs. Do they hold a special symbolic meaning for you?” “Miss Vance, rumor has it you’ve already signed with the design studio under the Sterling Group. Does this mean wedding bells are in the near future for you and the CEO of the Sterling Group?” Chloe stopped walking, looked at the cameras, and smiled slightly. “You’ll all have the answers to those questions very soon.” She pulled her left hand out of her trench coat pocket. On her slender ring finger, a massive diamond ring sparkled brilliantly. “My fiancé and I will soon be…” The video abruptly cut off. I pulled my gaze away from the black screen and looked up at the man holding me in his lap. He casually tossed the remote aside, took my hand, and pressed it against the black and white piano keys. “Break time is over. The fingering we just practiced—do it ten more times.” I nodded obediently. “Okay, Julian.” Julian Sterling’s hand paused, a hint of pleasure coloring his voice: “After you finish practicing, I’ll take you to pick out a pretty dress. We’re going to the Vance estate together tonight.” “Julian, are you taking me to meet my future sister-in-law?” His breath suddenly hitched, and he spoke with near-irritation: “…No.” I didn’t say another word. I gently pulled my hand free and began to play. His long, calloused hand rested motionless on the high-octave keys for a long time. My fingers occasionally brushed past his as I expertly pressed the keys in between his hands. The brief brush of our skin was as light as a feather. The melody of Für Elise flowed exceptionally smoothly. Julian stared intently, but he never lifted his hand. 02 Julian and Chloe had gotten engaged two years ago. That was when I first entered the Sterling household, just starting my senior year of high school. Chloe had eagerly arranged for me to transfer to a prestigious private prep school. As the third son of the Sterling family, Liam Sterling, was in the same grade, Chloe put on the airs of a future sister-in-law: “Mia is just a young girl in a new environment. It’s always safer to have her own brother keeping an eye on her.” “I’ll be studying abroad for two years. Having a little sister in the house will keep you guys entertained.” “Just make sure you don’t scare her.” She smiled slyly, reaching out to pat my head. I ducked to avoid her touch. A flash of darkness crossed Chloe’s eyes before she picked up her designer bag and gracefully walked away. A lot happened during the two years she was away. For instance, I became the target of severe bullying at that elite prep school, and my grades plummeted. Chloe’s younger brother, Carter Vance, was a notorious, reckless rich kid. He took a liking to my face and began making loud, public declarations of love around campus. After I rejected him to his face, he flew into a humiliated rage and swore he would make it impossible for me to stay at that school. My textbooks and assignments would be reduced to confetti by the next morning. Whether I opened the classroom door or a bathroom stall, I would be drenched head to toe by a bucket of dirty water. Flying stationery and random trash would strike me from every angle when I wasn’t looking. Being shoved and pushed amidst mocking laughter became a daily routine. They spread vicious rumors about me, claiming I was the one seducing Carter, that I was stalking him after he rejected me, and that I was desperate to climb into his bed. One guy maliciously taunted me to my face: “If you can’t climb into Carter’s bed, I won’t mind settling for you. Name your price. We all want a taste of the Sterling family’s new ‘miss’.” The group erupted in laughter. Liam, sitting nearby seemingly unbothered, finally grew irritated upon hearing the last sentence and spoke up: “That’s enough.” The guy looked from me to Liam, reeling in his laughter as he prepared to leave. I clenched my trembling fists and slapped him hard across the face. He flew into a rage: “You fucking—” That day, he kicked my desk over and shoved me to the ground. My head slammed into the sharp corner of the desk. The overwhelming metallic scent of blood filled the air, and my consciousness began to blur. It was Liam who rushed me to the hospital. Lying in the hospital bed, I clung to his shirt, refusing to let go. Even while unconscious, I cried out: “Brother, please don’t leave me.” When I woke up, I had forgotten everything from my past. I looked at Liam, who was keeping watch by my bed, and asked him timidly: “Are you my brother?” From that day on, the gloomiest, most fearful adopted daughter of the Sterling family became a docile, flawless princess. 03 I attended Chloe’s welcome-back banquet arm-in-arm with Julian. I wore a pale blue princess gown handpicked by him. Around my neck was a dazzling necklace he had personally fastened for me—a white dove pendant. The dove’s eye was a massive, brilliant Graff pink diamond. Under the banquet lights, it was blindingly beautiful. Chloe greeted us with a smile, but her pupils constricted when her gaze swept over my neck. She looped her arm through Julian’s other arm, forcing a strained smile: “I thought when you won that diamond at the auction, you were going to use it for an engagement ring. You’re spoiling your little sister a bit too much, aren’t you?” I tactfully pulled my hand out of Julian’s arm. “What are you talking about, Chloe? For something as important as an engagement, Julian obviously has something even better prepared for you.” Chloe’s eyes widened, her voice full of surprise: “Really? Julian, then I…” “Mia.” A gentle, familiar voice cut into our conversation. A man wearing gold-rimmed glasses walked up to me, looking sharp and elegant in a white peak-lapel suit. He held a glass of red wine. His voice was as rich as the vintage in his hand, yet it made my spine go rigid: “Haven’t you forgotten everything? How is it that you specifically remember your ‘sister’ Chloe?” “That’s hardly fair.” I steadied my nerves and reached for his wine glass: “Tristan, Julian has a picture of Chloe in his study. Don’t act like I don’t know that.” The corner of Julian’s mouth quirked up. He didn’t deny it. Chloe looked bashful, gazing at Julian with ever-growing affection. I looped my arm through Tristan’s and gave the engaged couple a sweet smile: “Julian, Chloe, I won’t be the third wheel here.” “Tristan, let’s go over to the dessert table, okay? I want some red velvet cake.” Tristan led me away. Behind us, Julian stared at my arm linked with Tristan’s, his expression bordering on displeasure. Chloe had to call his name several times before he snapped out of it. 04 At the dessert table, Tristan took his wine glass back from me. “You’re still young. You shouldn’t drink too much.” I playfully shoved half a spoonful of cake into his mouth: “Tristan! I’m a sophomore in college now. I’m an adult.” “Is that so?” He chewed slowly, his eyes behind the lenses dark and unreadable, a smile playing on his lips: “Then you can only have one sip.” He held the wine glass to my lips. I tilted my head back. The deep red liquid flooded my mouth and flowed down my throat, bringing a fiery heat. He showed no sign of pulling his hand away, so I kept drinking. I drank until a rosy flush spread across my pale skin. I drank until I choked and started coughing softly. Tristan finally lowered the glass, thoughtfully patting my back: “Greedy little cat.” “I told you not to drink too much, and you didn’t even know when to stop.” His warm palm pressed against my bare back. My cheeks burned as I smiled dizzily at him. Tristan’s hand lingered for only a second before someone pushed it away. A suit jacket landed on my shoulders, enveloping me in the faint scent of verbena. Liam’s clear voice sounded highly displeased: “Tristan, why did you let Mia drink so much?” “That Miss Vance just said she wanted to hear our Mia perform on stage. I don’t think she can…” “What do you mean, she can’t?” I clutched my chest and looked up, just in time to see Julian striding over with a cold expression. He was walking so fast that Chloe could barely keep up, having to jog to catch him while lifting her dress: “Julian…” Julian turned sideways and firmly grasped her hand. Ignoring Chloe’s suddenly flushed face, he looked only at me: “Your sister-in-law wants to hear you play. Go play.” “Julian, you…” I gently placed my hand over Liam’s, my eyes bright and innocent. “Julian has spent so much time teaching me the fingering. It’s only right that I show Chloe the results.” I sat down on the piano bench. A sharp, silvery gleam caught the light in the gaps between the keys, making me think back to the night of the high school anniversary gala. Without my knowledge, Carter had signed me up for a solo piano performance. I had only recently “lost” my memory, and Julian’s sudden interest in teaching me piano was only a few weeks old. I could only play beginner-level exercises. I forced myself onto the stage. And on a keyboard lined with hidden needles, I played until my hands were dripping with blood. The disjointed, horrific melody drew a chorus of boos from the audience. I retreated from the stage in humiliation, only for Carter to corner me and warn me: “Don’t actually think of yourself as some princess. You’re nothing but a toy the Sterling family picked up to pass the time while my sister is abroad.” But then again, who isn’t a toy? I smiled and placed my hands on the keys. The next second, the powerful chords of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 echoed through the banquet hall. I struck the keys with all my strength. The pain was bone-deep. Blood splattered, yet it felt exhilarating. I watched the crowd in the audience, watching me with casual detachment. Julian caught sight of the red spreading across the black and white keys. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to walk toward me. Tristan whispered in his ear: “Didn’t you say she was just a toy?” Julian stopped moving. He also placed a restraining hand on Liam’s shoulder. When the piece ended, I stood up to take a bow. The droplets of blood splattered on my dress looked like vivid rose petals. As the thunderous applause died down, gasps of horror erupted. I heard Chloe let out a perfectly feigned shriek of panic: “Oh my god, what happened?! Who… who messed with her piano beforehand?!” 05 The Vance family doctor haphazardly bandaged my hands. He didn’t even bother to disinfect the wounds. Chloe apologized profusely, yet her eyes held no real remorse. She looked at me like I was an ant. Her apologies were purely to display her grace as the Vance heiress and to protect the reputation of both families. Just as the Sterling family knew exactly who the culprit was but remained silent—also to protect the families’ reputations. In the end, I was just a toy kept on a whim. It wasn’t worth making a fuss over a toy. On the ride back to the Sterling estate, the alcohol hit me. I curled up and fell asleep, whimpering in pain in my dreams. It was Julian who carried me back to my room. He looked at the blood seeping through the bandages, his expression complex: “If you knew it was going to hurt, why didn’t you stop?” “I couldn’t embarrass you, Julian.” I sat up, arguing earnestly: “You taught me how to play. With so many people listening, if I messed up or stopped halfway, it would look so bad for my teacher.” He froze for a moment, then awkwardly looked away from me and strode out of the room. “No practice for the next few days. Just rest.” I replied with a sweet, obedient “Okay.” “Goodnight, Julian.” I slept very poorly that night. In my hazy consciousness, I felt like a dark, beastly gaze was fixed on me. Sharp pain shot through my injured fingers intermittently. I snapped my eyes open and saw a dark figure lying beside me, gently dabbing ointment onto my fingers. His movements were clumsy, but incredibly tender. I drifted in a daze for a second, then called out to him: “Brother.” The man scoffed. He slowly finished wrapping the fresh bandage around my hand, tying a tight, forceful knot. I flinched in pain. In that moment of clarity, tears welled up in my eyes. He leaned over the covers, pressing his weight onto me. His fingers, smelling of antiseptic, ground roughly against my lips. His voice was low and furious: “Do you even know which brother I am before you call out?” I lowered my eyes and stayed silent. His anger flared. He sneered ominously in my ear: “So now you play mute with me? But when it comes to Julian, you do exactly what he tells you. So incredibly obedient.” I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my hot tears hitting his skin. He seemed burned by the touch, freezing instantly. I sobbed into his ear: “I thought you would come save me.” “My hands hurt so much… Why didn’t you come save me, Liam?” Liam clumsily pulled me tight, using his sleeve to wipe my tears: “It’s not your fault… I don’t blame you anymore, Mia. Please don’t cry, okay?” “It’s all Julian’s fault. He shouldn’t have agreed to marry into the Vance family, and he shouldn’t have used you to please that woman.” “Trust me, Mia. I won’t let her hurt you again.” But she had already hurt me. Over and over again. From the needles in the piano to the maliciously orchestrated bullying. And even earlier, before I had even entered the Sterling home. She had destroyed the only thing I had left to hold onto. 06 At the breakfast table the next morning, it was just Tristan and Liam. The maid said Julian had left for the office early. As soon as I sat down, Tristan joked about my hands: “Who wrapped these for you? They look like mummies. How are you supposed to eat breakfast?” “Come here. Let me re-bandage them.” A maid immediately brought over the first-aid kit. I glanced at Liam’s dark expression, hesitated for a moment, and then walked over. The bow Liam tied came undone with a single pull from Tristan. Liam set down his knife and fork, crossing his arms as he watched: “I thought they were wrapped perfectly fine. If Mia can’t use her hands to eat, I’ll feed her.” Tristan leaned over, patiently and methodically unwinding the gauze layer by layer. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were focused entirely on my hands, not even glancing at his younger brother: “They were bundled into a clump. If Mia can’t use her hands, how is she supposed to go to class and draw today?” I was a jewelry design major. The series of “accidents” during my senior year of high school inevitably took a toll on me. I didn’t get into the top university. Julian made the executive decision to enroll me in a local college near the Sterling estate, demanding that I commute from home every day. We had a disagreement when it came to choosing my major. He was very unhappy with my choice of jewelry design. “A girl your age should study literature, history, or philosophy. Why choose something like this?” I hugged his arm and pleaded: “I know the Sterling Group is expanding into the jewelry market. I just want to be able to help you in the future, Julian.” “From now on, I’ll design all your tie clips, brooches, and cufflinks!” Julian’s lips curled into a smile, and he didn’t argue any further. After breakfast, Liam and I went to campus. In class, the senior sitting next to me, Sarah, frowned when she saw my fingers: “What happened? How did you get hurt this badly?” “Just a little accident. I’m sorry, Sarah. I might need to delay submitting the drafts by three days.” “It’s fine.” After class, Sarah took me to her dorm and pulled a tube of ointment from her drawer. “This is amazing for surface wounds. Try it.” My heart ached with gratitude as I thanked her. The Sterling family didn’t know about the design studio Sarah and I had started together. Sarah never asked me why I didn’t just intern at the design studio owned by the Sterling Group, opting instead to start from scratch. She had just looked at my past design portfolio and immediately made the call: “Your style is very distinct. I think we can get commissions.” During all the time we didn’t have class, we ran around, visiting factories to find suppliers. We went from a two-person operation relying on word of mouth to the moderately sized “Chrysalis Studio.” This was the other world where I could breathe freely, far away from the Sterling family. Sarah reminded me again: “Don’t rush to draw for the next few days. Let your hands heal. We have plenty of time.” I nodded, watching as she opened her laptop. A familiar design draft was prominently displayed on a tab she hadn’t closed. Countless dazzling colored gemstones and brilliant gold formed a magnificent crown. In the center of the crown was a dove encrusted with white diamonds. It was posed to take flight, holding a flower made of red diamonds in its beak, looking like it was dripping blood. “Sarah, do you know Chloe Vance?” Sarah scrolled with her mouse: “I know who she is, but we’re not close.” “She’s been in the news a lot lately. I’ve looked at her early work. Honestly, every piece is breathtakingly brilliant.” “But for some reason, her later style completely changed. Even though she’s still praised online, I feel like there’s a huge disconnect from her early work.” Sarah looked thoughtful as she spoke. Then, she suddenly realized something: “I’m sorry. I forgot that your brother is engaged to the Vance family. Was I out of line by saying that…” “It’s fine, Sarah. You’re right.” I stared at the screen. The dazzling light of the jewelry stung my eyes. Those pieces never belonged to Chloe Vance in the first place. And the Sterlings were not my family. 07 The Sterling and Vance families began discussing a wedding date. Chloe’s social media updated almost daily, showcasing her either trying on wedding dresses or picking out wedding rings. She playfully complained about Julian: “When will you finally put down your work to spend time with me? I’m always picking out things alone. My fans are going to suspect we’re not doing well.” Julian finally took a weekend off to accompany her to look at wedding dresses. I used the excuse of a rescheduled class to avoid coming home during the day. By the time my hand was fully healed, the design draft I had given Sarah had been manufactured into a finished product. The craftsmen were incredibly skilled. Every detail of the brooch was flawless. Even Sarah couldn’t put it down. “If this doesn’t become a best-seller, it would be a crime. You’re our cash cow, Mia.” “The first piece of the ‘Kapok’ series is a brooch. Have you thought about what to make next?” I smiled and said, “Let’s do a bracelet.” I started pulling frequent all-nighters, staying at the studio for several nights in a row. One day, while I was in class, I suddenly got a call from Julian. His voice carried an unprecedented rage: “Mia, come home immediately.” My heart pounded frantically as I rushed back to the Sterling estate. Julian was sitting in the living room, with Chloe sitting beside him. Even Tristan and Liam were there. This interrogation-like setup made my steps falter. I stood at the doorway, looking confused: “Julian, did you need me for something?” Julian didn’t say a word. Chloe tugged his sleeve and smiled at me: “Oh, it’s not a big deal. Mia just spent a few nights out. It’s not like she was out doing anything bad.” “She’s a young, beautiful girl. It’s completely normal for her to have a boy she likes…” So it was about me not coming home. I thought the secret about the studio had been discovered early. I relaxed and walked further inside, feigning calmness: “What are you talking about, Chloe? I don’t have a boyfriend.” “Then what were you doing every night?” Julian’s expression softened slightly, but his eyes were still frighteningly dark: “If I hadn’t been talking to Tristan, I wouldn’t have even known you haven’t been home for days!” “And you two! Why didn’t you keep an eye on her?!” Liam lazily raised his hand: “I asked Mia. She said she had assignments to rush and spent the nights pulling all-nighters in the metalworking studio of her jewelry design department.” “How can you sleep comfortably in a classroom…” Chloe smiled slyly: “Mia, it’s okay to go out and get a hotel room to rest with a classmate.” As expected of a Vance. Her methods of spreading rumors were exactly the same as her brother’s. Julian clearly understood the implication of her words. His face turned ugly again: “Mia, have some self-respect.” Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked at him sadly, my voice choking: “Julian, you’re accusing me.” I unzipped my backpack and pulled out a thick stack of design drafts. “I was in the classroom the whole time. I really didn’t go out and get a hotel…” “Enough.” Julian stood up, his face full of irritation. He walked past me with long strides, coldly dropping a single sentence: “Don’t let me find out you’re staying out all night again.” “Otherwise, you’re changing your major.” The drafts were hit by the coat draped over his arm. My grip loosened, and the snow-white pages fluttered all over the room. I crouched down to pick them up, large teardrops falling one by one. Tristan and Liam stayed to help me. Chloe originally wanted to chase after Julian, but her peripheral vision caught something. She suddenly leaned in close to comfort me: “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. I’ll go explain it to Julian.” She patted my shoulder, secretly slipping a piece of paper from the stack behind me, quickly crumpling it up and stuffing it into her bag. 08 After that, I spent my nights at the Sterling house. The light in my bedroom stayed on late into the night. Someone would always come knocking. Sometimes it was Tristan, sometimes it was Liam. Sometimes they came together. I couldn’t hide it fast enough, and they saw the pattern on the paper. It was the second piece of the Kapok series: the Kapok flower bracelet. Fortunately, they didn’t know much about jewelry, so they naturally didn’t connect it to the Kapok brooch that had been gaining popularity domestically. They didn’t know it was my design. Tristan was a partner at a law firm, and Liam dreamed of becoming a race car driver. “You’re staying up later than me every day. Don’t tell me you’re making a wedding gift for Julian?” Tristan asked me with a half-smile. I looked up from the pile of drafts, feigning surprise: “How did you know, Tristan?” “The day my drafts fell, the final sketch went missing. I have to work overtime to redo it.” I explained shyly, my face flushed. Tristan stopped smiling. After a long pause, he looked at Liam with a sneer: “Our older brother is certainly lucky.” Liam snorted and walked out. Once the design drafts were finalized, I began the handcrafting process. I brought some equipment from the studio into my bedroom and continued working through the nights. Julian only had the maids report to him daily to confirm I slept at home. But Tristan and Liam practically witnessed the creation of the very first finished Kapok bracelet. Given the color scheme and diameter, it was clearly not meant for a woman. Tristan examined it in his hand for a while, making a motion to slip it onto his wrist: “Looks like a good fit.” I glared at him, grabbed his wrist, and pulled the bracelet off: “That’s for Julian. Don’t break it.” Liam leaned lazily against the doorframe, watching us bicker with a cold expression: “You ungrateful little brat. Two of your brothers are here keeping you company, and all you care about is the one who’s absent.” “If you’re making a wedding gift, it should be a pair. What does it mean to only make one for Julian?” I carefully placed the bracelet into a velvet box and flashed him an innocent smile: “I don’t have enough time. The wedding is coming up so fast. I’ll make one for Chloe later.” In reality, I had already finalized the design for the women’s version of the bracelet. After the factory-produced finished product passed inspection, the women’s bracelet—the second piece of the Chrysalis Studio’s Kapok series—was already available for sale. That weekend, I stayed home, which was unusual. Sarah called me, her tone uncharacteristically serious: “Mia, during the design process of the Kapok bracelet, did anyone see your drafts?”

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When the newly crowned A-list pop idol Cole Mercer wanted to hard launch his relationship, I begged him to think of his career. He agreed. But his non-celebrity girlfriend left a suicide note and vanished forever. The next day, Cole went on Twitter to accuse me of controlling his life. I was struck and killed by a car driven by his crazed stans. He smiled as he watched me take my last breath. “Does it hurt? The day she left, I hurt more than you.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he said he wanted to go public. I didn’t stop him. I just watched coldly as he made his high-profile announcement and shot to the top of the trending charts. 1 Three minutes after Cole’s post went live, our talent agency exploded. Phones were ringing off the hook. The entire internet was demanding to know if the relationship was real. The CEO was furious. “He’s only 22! Does he want to ruin his career?! Is this girl some billionaire heiress worth throwing his future away for?” When he found out Cole’s girlfriend was just an ordinary girl, the CEO completely lost it. He cursed Cole for being a whipped idiot, and then he screamed at me for not stopping him. Actually, I had stopped him. And then I died. In my previous life, on the night Cole took home the “Artist of the Year” award at the Music Video Awards, he suddenly told me he wanted to go public. He said it was a promise he made to his girlfriend—that on the day he made it to the top, he would give her the official title she deserved. A pop idol going public during the peak of his career is career suicide. Not to mention, he was just about to kick off a massive arena tour. I urged him not to backstab his fans right after winning an award they voted for. I told him fans don’t spend thousands of dollars on him just to buy his condoms. He could give her the title in private; there was no need to broadcast it to the world. Ultimately, Cole agreed. But his girlfriend believed he had betrayed their love. She left a dramatic goodbye letter and vanished into thin air. Half a year later, the police found her body washed up by a riverbank. She had a three-month-old fetus in her womb. Cole went insane. Even though the police ruled it an accidental death following an emotional dispute, Cole stubbornly insisted that I had killed her and their unborn child. The next day, Cole posted a lengthy statement online, accusing me of manipulating his life. He claimed that from the day he debuted, I had restricted his personal freedom and forced him to do all the fan-service things he hated. He successfully redirected all the fans’ intense dissatisfaction onto my head. He even used a burner account to leak my home address to his most unhinged stalker-stans, inciting them to seek revenge. On the day I was run over by a car driven by his fans, his usually terrible acting skills reached their absolute peak. Crying on the outside, he leaned in close to my ear, his voice dripping with smug malice. “If you hadn’t stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, she wouldn’t have died. “You’re just my manager, not my mother. You don’t get to dictate my life. “You tried to use my fans to threaten me, and in the end, you died by their hands. “Watch and see. Even if I go public, those brain-dead fans will still throw their money at me to buy my condoms.” Is that so? If he really hard-launched his relationship, would his rabid fans buy him condoms, or would they buy knives? Last time, I didn’t get to see the answer. So this time, I wanted a front-row seat. 2 The CEO issued an ultimatum: fix this PR nightmare immediately. But Cole was dead set on his official announcement. He changed his social media passwords, turned off his phone, and completely dropped off the grid. Under the CEO’s barrage of insults, I voluntarily offered my resignation. The chaotic office fell dead silent for a second. Then, the CEO erupted again. “Your artist just blew a massive hole in this company, and you’re telling me you’re quitting?!” I scoffed coldly. In my past life, when Cole’s fans were organizing a witch hunt against me online, the company was the first to cut ties. They claimed I was just a temporary contractor, forcefully fired me without severance, and even had security beat up my elderly parents when they came to the headquarters to demand justice for me. I took off my company ID badge, my tone even. “I managed him for seven years. For seven years, I brought him up from an unknown trainee to the top. I never caused this company an ounce of trouble. He insisted on going public this time, and my hands are tied. “If the PR department needs my help, I’ll actively cooperate. But as for Cole Mercer, from this day forward, he has absolutely nothing to do with me.” My absolute resolve shocked my colleagues. “But you spent years cultivating him! You finally made him an A-lister, how can you just walk away?” Everyone knew the blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into him. The irony was, the only person who didn’t see it was Cole himself. I stayed by his side for seven whole years. For seven years, I exhausted myself pushing him step by step from obscurity to the pinnacle of fame. He said he was afraid of the dark; I left the lights on and slept on the studio couch to keep him company. He said he had social anxiety; I drank until I was sick at networking dinners to secure sponsorships for him. He said he was bad with words; I wrote all his sweet, fan-pandering posts to solidify his fanbase. When he was about to go on tour, I meticulously supervised the audio engineers to cover up his atrocious live vocals. These were my professional duties, and I never asked for his gratitude. But in the end, it all became the very knife he used to stab me. The CEO snapped: “Let her go! She’s just a manager. I refuse to believe the company will collapse without her.” He was right. Nobody dies just because someone else leaves. The same went for me. Honestly, leaving Cole Mercer meant I was going to live a much better life. 3 Because Cole changed his passwords, the relationship announcement sat at the top of the trending charts for a whole day before the company finally managed to suppress it. In just 24 hours, his announcement post amassed hundreds of thousands of comments. Half of them were from his loyal stans, aggressively spamming emojis and copy-pasted blessings to drown out the hate. The other half was pure outrage and cursing. [I stayed up all night voting for you yesterday, and today you give me a sister-in-law? Am I crazy or are you?] [Why did you have to announce it? Couldn’t you date in secret? Did you have to shove it in our faces?] [I’ve spent over $30,000 on your merch and albums. I haven’t missed a single tour date. And you repay me with a girlfriend?] [I’ve spent over $100k! And he takes my money to fund his little romance. I’m gonna throw up!] [If you make a living off your fanbase, you serve the fans. Otherwise, quit being an idol.] [Turns out only the fans cared about your career. I want my three years back.] There were countless other comments too vulgar to even repeat. The comment section was quickly restricted, then shut down entirely. His fans were running themselves ragged in the fandom Discord and Reddit threads, desperately waiting for his explanation. But their precious idol was spending these few days taking his new girl on a luxury vacation. I handed over my work accounts, returned to my apartment which I hadn’t seen in ages, and scrolled through my personal phone while eating chips. A life without Cole Mercer was wonderfully quiet. It wasn’t until I saw a photo of him and his girlfriend hiking on his private Snapchat story that I remembered—early in his career, when I was terrified of missing an emergency text, I had added him on my personal account. After becoming an A-lister, Cole’s ego inflated so much he was practically floating. Posting a picture like this on his private story right now… was he trying to speed-run his own cancellation? In the photo, there was a new tattoo on his inner forearm. It was the letter “S”. I had seen that letter before. Back when Cole first won his debut survival show, a friend of mine who ran a major pop-culture gossip account told me she received a tip. It was an intimate photo of Cole with a girl, and the tipster’s handle had the letter “S” in it. I knew Cole’s girlfriend was named Sierra Knox. It had to be her. Out of professional habit, my brain instantly went into conspiracy-theory mode. I instinctively tapped on Cole’s profile, wanting to warn him to be careful of being used for clout. Thankfully, the moment I opened the chat, I caught myself. My hand slipped, and I accidentally double-tapped his profile icon, sending a notification. When I refreshed my feed, the photo was gone. He had probably blocked me. But I didn’t care. Whether he was truly in love or getting played, it had absolutely nothing to do with me anymore. 4 A few days later, the relationship announcement on Cole’s official Twitter was deleted. Thanks to the tireless efforts of his fans, his timeline and subreddits were once again a picture of peace and harmony. Any dissenting voices were immediately swarmed and attacked. You could only find the genuine outrage and mass-unfollowing if you searched his specific anti-fan nicknames. But I had protected him too well in the past. He didn’t even know what his own anti-names were. He genuinely believed his fans still supported him unconditionally. Normally, if this issue wasn’t brought up again, it would just fade away. The internet has a seven-second memory. Once the heat died down, they would make up some excuse to cover it up, and it would be history. As for the fans who unstanned him, after his arena tour finished, many would eventually come crawling back. But right when the company issued a statement claiming Cole’s account had been hacked and the relationship post was fake… At midnight, screenshots of Cole’s private Snapchat story suddenly leaked online. It was the exact photo grid of him and his girlfriend on vacation. The person who leaked the screenshot even thoughtfully blurred out the “S” tattoo on his arm. This was the first time I actually smiled seeing Cole hit the top of the negative trending charts. After years of frantically cleaning up his messes, I was thoroughly sick of it. As the public backlash rapidly escalated, the company’s “hacked” statement became a laughingstock. Those devoted fans who swore they believed he was single became an even bigger joke. Cole was getting ripped to shreds online. Even the paid bot farms couldn’t drown out the hate. The company tried to divert attention by dragging other male celebrities down, fabricating dating rumors about them. Cole, convinced I was the one who leaked the screenshot, called to scream at me. He called me toxic, jealous, and morally bankrupt, and threatened to have his fans cyberbully me. I told him I didn’t do it, but he refused to believe me. “I blocked everyone else from seeing that story except you! And you’re telling me you didn’t do it?!” I laughed. “You shot the arrow yourself. Whoever leaked it, you’re the one who has to take responsibility for your actions. As for who did it… take a wild guess.” He raged: “You just wait!” I ignored him, hung up, and blocked his number. Over the next few days, my personal phone number suddenly received a flood of unknown calls. Thinking they were friends, I instinctively answered. The moment I picked up, someone started demanding I issue a clarification for Cole’s relationship. I was stunned. Besides my close friends and family outside the industry, only Cole knew this number. He must have leaked it. The fan on the other end aggressively interrogated me. “Have you seen Cole’s negative trending topics? Why hasn’t the PR team suppressed the heat yet? Are you even his manager?!” I sighed and explained that I had already resigned. The fan got even more agitated: “He’s in the middle of a massive crisis, and you have the nerve to quit?!” If there were an Olympic eye-rolling competition, I would definitely win gold. Just as I was about to hang up, the voice on the other end demanded furiously: “Why can other people clarify their rumors, but you guys can’t?” “Clarify what?” “The relationship! Tons of male stars had dating rumors the past two days and they all clarified it.” I was speechless. “Because they aren’t actually dating.” “What kind of attitude is that? You don’t care at all, do you?! He’s about to kick off his fourth arena concert!” Me: “Is caring going to magically fix it?” “You just wait! I’ve recorded everything you said, and I’m going to report you to the agency!” 5 I went viral. Because of Cole. But it wasn’t because he posted a hit piece accusing me of controlling his life like in my last life. It was because… His mega-fan posted the recording of our phone call to Stan Twitter. At first, the fans in Cole’s community mass-attacked me, calling me irresponsible and threatening to dox me. But as they pushed the hashtag onto the trending page, more and more ordinary people clicked on the video. After listening to the whole conversation, instead of siding with the fans, the general public erupted in mockery. [I’m allergic to stupidity. This staff member has the patience of a saint.] [Joke of the year: ‘Why can they clarify?’ ‘Because they aren’t actually dating.’ Why can’t you guys clarify? Reading comprehension is key here.] [Why are you yelling at the staff? I feel like she was trying her best. Holding back laughter must have been tough.] [I thought the staff member was trying to trick the caller at first, but realizing this is a genuine fan is just embarrassing.] [I finally know what kind of people argue with me online.] [That fan’s family must have banged their heads against the wall praying to God for that level of delusion, hahahaha!] Having been a manager for years, I had anticipated this outcome. I just didn’t expect the other party to actually dare to expose it. Seeing the public narrative turn against them, Cole’s die-hard stans panicked and started trying to do damage control. [She’s not a Cole fan! She’s a hater in disguise trying to ruin him!] [No one actually believes this, right? It’s obviously a staged recording. They probably paid someone to act it out.] [Our boy is doing great. You all should focus on your own lives, you have way too much free time.] Of course, no one believed these excuses. It only made the onlookers mock the fans’ intelligence even more. And the mega-fan who originally leaked the call was immediately branded a “hater” and excommunicated by the fandom. That girl could never have imagined that the fans who initially supported her would turn into blades aimed at her throat in an instant. Her original intention was to fight for Cole’s rights, but she ended up as the target of internet-wide bullying. Under the immense pressure, she suffered a mental breakdown. She posted a long, emotional essay on Twitter, condemning the gossip accounts that stole her video, condemning the fans who turned on her, and crying about how she had loved Cole for six years only to be labeled a hater. The moment the post went live, she was mass-reported and her account was suspended, leaving behind only a blurry screenshot. Soon after, Cole’s agency released a statement claiming the phone recording was a fabricated stunt directed by anti-fans for clout, urging everyone to continue supporting Cole’s upcoming concert. This was met with cheers from the remaining fans. [Finally cleared his name! I only believe what he says!] And that mega-fan, now branded an anti, was drowned in an avalanche of online abuse, just like I was back then. No one spoke up for her. Of course, she brought it upon herself. But back then, in the eyes of the public, wasn’t I also seen as bringing it upon myself? Meanwhile, the person who threw us onto the roasting spit hid behind the scenes without saying a word. Well, not exactly without saying a word. Cole logged onto his secret burner account, furiously typing away, trashing the mega-fan for being useless and telling his fans to mind their own business. The bad news was: no one knew about this burner account. The good news was: I did. Karma comes for everyone eventually. I pulled up Cole’s burner account and screenshotted every single one of his tweets. Then I called my pop-culture insider friend. “I’ve got a scoop that’ll get you 100k followers overnight. Want it?” 6 [What a bunch of r*tarded fans, nothing but a nuisance. Loved me for six years? Go die then.] [I’m an adult, I can date whoever the hell I want. My own mom doesn’t care, who do these fans think they are? Bunch of psychos.] [Hahahaha, I knew it. Even if it gets exposed, these idiots will still line up to give me their money.] [Why aren’t the concert tickets sold out yet? That frost-tipped loser next door sold his out. Hurry up and buy them! Just buy ten each and it’s sold out, you useless trash.] I sat in my new apartment, snacking on sunflower seeds while reading Cole’s greatest hits. The ones trending were only a fraction of it. I didn’t even need to leak the rest; the bloodhounds on the internet naturally dug up the rest. Not only did they find him insulting his fans behind their backs, but they also found his burner account casually using derogatory nicknames for other celebrities and liking negative news articles about his rivals. Now the floodgates were open. Cole’s fans cursed him for being two-faced, and fans of the rival celebrities he insulted joined the bloodbath. His fans couldn’t believe that the idol who posted sweet, fan-loving messages every day was actually this kind of monster. Joke’s on them, I was the one writing all those sweet messages. The rival fandoms were even more in disbelief that there was a top-tier idol dumb enough to openly trash other celebrities on a burner account. Why wouldn’t they believe it? You don’t need a high IQ to be an idol. Quite the opposite, actually… I’ve said it before, if you know, you know. If the entertainment industry ranked status by IQ, at least half of them would have to retire. Cole’s social media experienced a massive wave of unfollowing, dozens of times worse than when he announced his relationship. I read through the posts from fans detailing the hardships of supporting him over the years and the pain of being backstabbed. I couldn’t help but sigh. To fans, an idol lacking talent, having poor character, or even breaking the law can be forgiven. But when the knife actually cuts into their own skin, that’s when it truly hurts. Of course, there were still delusional fans who refused to yield even with the knife at their throats. [A burner account of unverified origin is making you all this crazy? Unless he admits it himself, I will support him forever!] I saw that coming. Special thanks to the internet regulations requiring IP addresses to be displayed. People can lie, but IP addresses don’t. With the combined efforts of multiple fandoms, Cole’s burner account IP address history was dug up completely. Every single time he posted, the location perfectly matched his public flight and event schedule. Furthermore, the device used was a newly gifted sponsored phone—only a handful of celebrities in the entire industry had one. Unless someone stole his phone during every single trip just to tweet from a burner, it was impossible to spin. Faced with this massive headwind, even the most rabid fans couldn’t defend him. Cole was cursed out so badly he deleted the burner account and turned off comments on his main. The endorsements that once belonged to him dropped him for other stars. The upcoming concert came to a grinding halt. Fans demanded refunds en masse, totaling over ten million dollars. Cole’s team was desperately trying to hire crisis PR firms across all platforms. Unfortunately, this was a completely unsalvageable disaster. No one wanted to take the job. In a panic, Cole pulled his ultimate trick. He posted a long statement on his main account, claiming the burner account wasn’t his, the mega-fan was a hater, and the girl in the photo was just a friend. And at the very end of this post, I saw a very familiar maneuver. [My social media has always been controlled by my manager. I was unaware of these posts. If anything inappropriate was said, I apologize on her behalf.] The moment this post went live, the fans climaxed. They rallied on Stan Twitter, vowing to hunt me down and seek justice for their precious boy. 7 In my past life, Cole used this exact method to accuse me of controlling him, dumping all the dirty work he did onto me. He thought he could use the same trick to clear his name and push me into the abyss again. But he overlooked one thing. Back then, he had a spotless record and hadn’t lost any fans. But now, with undeniable proof dropping one after another, his credibility was already overdrawn. If I didn’t even have the ability to protect myself now, I would have lived my second life for nothing. What was even more amusing was the company. To cut their losses, they actually made Cole push his concert dates up early. They claimed it was due to “unforeseen circumstances,” but everyone knew the real reason. Cole turned off his comments, but he couldn’t turn off quote retweets. The quote retweets were filled with questions and mockery directed at his explanation. [What does this mean? Are you saying the burner account was run by your manager?] [Wait, if your social media is entirely controlled by your manager, does that mean all those sweet messages to fans were written by her too?] [What a great scapegoat. What did the manager ever do to you?] [Didn’t his manager quit? How is the burner account still active? Who are you trying to fool?] [His profile literally has a picture of his girlfriend.] [How does someone like this still have the nerve to hold a concert? Refund the tickets!] Cole thought his statement would win back fan support, but he was met with a wave of skepticism instead. Furious, he picked one of the replies and quote-tweeted it: [If I am lying about even half a word, I will send myself to prison.] [That sounds so familiar. I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before.] [Bullshit! You’re the one who gave me the manager’s phone number!] [Whoa, looks like we got some tea.] [Check her profile, there’s proof of Cole burning bridges after using a fan.] I clicked into the profile. It was the mega-fan whose account had been banned. She made a new account and spilled everything: how Cole used her to smear his manager, and how he begged her not to expose his voice memos afterward. Because it was a new account with no traffic, no one paid attention at first. Cole’s statement ironically gave her exposure. [I spent almost a million dollars on him. When he used me, he called me his ‘only true sister.’ Then he kicked me to the curb and mass-reported my account. Today, I’m going to show you all the disgusting face of your ‘idol’!] She posted every single transaction she ever spent on Cole, along with chat logs of Cole telling her to incite fans to smear rival celebrities and his manager. Everyone finally realized that the glamorous top-tier idol was actually doing so much dirty work behind the scenes. The calls for him to retire and be blacklisted grew louder and louder. Unfortunately, he only had terrible moral character; it wasn’t quite at the level of a ban-worthy legal offense yet. His few remaining fans were still fighting on the front lines, claiming they supported him for his professional work, not his personal life, and vowed to attend his concert. They even hyped up his live performances, claiming he “ate CDs for breakfast” (meaning he sounded identical to studio recordings). Stan Twitter was a complete mess, tearing each other apart. I silently ate my popcorn, not in a hurry at all. Because Cole’s hastily rescheduled concert was about to begin. When the time came, I would let them see what “eating CDs” truly sounded like. 8 The day before the concert, the company was still aggressively marketing Cole, praising him as the strongest vocalist of the new generation, stable as a CD live. I spat in disgust. The videos the company released were all pre-recorded. Cole’s actual singing ability… let’s just say it had nothing to do with a CD. He was about as pitch-perfect as my neighbor’s dog. “With vocals like yours, you want to hold an arena tour?” “Come on, please help me out. That frost-tipped loser next door is doing a tour. I can’t let him beat me.” “He’s doing a tour because he can actually sing! Can you?” “I can’t sing, but I can just lip-sync!” I was shocked: “Cole, this is a concert. Fans paid money and bought tickets to hear you sing live, not to watch you move your mouth. Lip-syncing an entire concert? Do you want the fans to tear you apart?” “I’ve seen K-pop groups lip-sync at concerts, and their fans don’t yell at them.” 9 He only paid attention to the worst habits of others and ignored everything good. I was so angry at Cole I almost developed a stress ulcer. What was even more infuriating was that he secretly recorded backing tracks behind my back. But Cole was still somewhat obedient back then. He didn’t dare fully lip-sync under my watch. We used a heavy backing track for his concerts. At the time, no one noticed, and he hadn’t yet entered the mainstream public eye. But this time, things were different. The next day, Cole’s fourth arena tour date proceeded as scheduled. The first three shows were completely sold out, but this time, affected by the wave of refunds, the arena wasn’t even half full. A large group of fans shouted for refunds outside, creating a highly entertaining scene. During the concert, Cole used the opportunity to cry to the fans about his innocence and how wronged he was. He cried until his voice was hoarse, crying so hard it made people’s hearts ache. Fans at the venue, desperate to salvage their idol’s reputation, recorded and live-streamed the entire thing, declaring they would make the people who framed him pay. Then things got interesting. One second, Cole was crying so hard he could barely breathe. The next, when the music started, his voice was completely unaffected—smooth and stable as a CD. Even more hilariously, it was an upbeat dance track. On the jumbotron, Cole had tears streaming down his face, but the vocals blasting through the speakers were incredibly cheerful. This jarringly disconnected performance left the audience totally stunned. The fan live-streaming didn’t realize the danger. She was still in her stream praising her idol for his professionalism and amazing vocals, saying his crying didn’t affect his singing at all. Random onlookers who clicked into the stream laughed out loud, then immediately sent the clip to a famous live-performance critique YouTuber. The YouTuber analyzed it: Cole was 100% lip-syncing. Honestly, you didn’t even need an analysis. Anyone with functioning ears and eyes could tell. Someone even dug up audio from a previous Cole concert and found it was identical to this one. While Cole lip-synced his heart out on stage, the YouTuber aggressively exposed him online. By the time the concert ended, the fans who had been immersed in their idol’s “perfect vocals” finally realized what happened and quickly shut down the stream. Unfortunately, it was too late. A complete chain of evidence had been preserved. The fans who had previously spent money to see Cole’s concerts felt completely scammed. Because the fallout was so severe, consumer protection authorities stepped in to investigate the mass fraud complaints. Before Cole’s afterparty even finished, he received a summons. Rumor has it that when he was taken away, he tried to use his A-list status to threaten the officials. But they didn’t care at all and forcibly hauled him in. And I, as his former manager, was also called in to assist with the investigation. I ran into Cole at the precinct doors. 10 He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, covering his face completely. When he saw me, his mouth twisted in a snarl, ready to interrogate me. “You did this, didn’t you? You set me up! Just because my fans hit you with a car in that other life, you want to ruin me like this?!” Cole clenched his fists and lunged at me, but was blocked by security. So he also remembered his past life. But why was he still so brainless? “I’m innocent! Besides exposing your burner account, nothing else has anything to do with me.” Cole was shocked. His eyes widened, trying to catch a lie on my face. “If it wasn’t you, who else could it be? Who else hates me this much…” I shrugged. “Who knows?” Unfortunately, with Cole’s IQ, he wouldn’t get it. “Hmph, stop pretending. Only you know about those things. Don’t think ruining my reputation will actually do anything to me.” I couldn’t be bothered to explain, silently watching him act tough. He threw a threat at me: “Last time I crushed you effortlessly. Believe it or not, I can do it again this time.” I gave him my best customer-service smile: “Is that so? I don’t believe it.” Cole glared at me, fuming. Soon, his question would be answered. While I was giving my statement, my insider friend sent me a photo packed with highly sensitive information. Although it was pixelated, I immediately recognized Cole’s girlfriend, Sierra Knox, linking arms with a tall man in black. It wasn’t a secret to me that Sierra had another guy on the side, but the words my friend typed next revealed a massive bombshell. “I was actually there to photograph someone else, but I ended up snapping this girl by accident.” “Who is the other guy?” She sent me an unblurred photo of the guy in black. I saw a head full of frosted tips. “Cole’s arch-rival, Dylan Vance.” The name “Dylan” made me think of the police report regarding Sierra’s accidental death in the previous life. The report did mention that “Ms. Knox” and a “Mr. Vance” had a physical altercation due to a romantic dispute, but I never expected that “Mr. Vance” to be Dylan. “I also heard that Dylan has a relative who is a high-level executive at [Major Social Media Platform].” So that was it. No wonder Cole’s continuous stream of negative trending topics stayed up so smoothly; someone was fueling the fire from the shadows. During this time, Cole was busy dealing with scandals and prepping for his concert. He probably had no time for Sierra. Sierra took that opportunity to hook up with Dylan. If it were just Dylan caught in a dating rumor, fans would probably accept it since he was actually a talented singer. But this time was different. Sierra had publicly exposed her intimate photos with Cole online. That face… even with the pixels, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who recognized her; Cole’s fans would definitely spot her too. It had been over four months since Cole announced his relationship. Looking at the timeline, these two might even have a baby on the way. After Cole finished being questioned, he walked past me. This time was just an inquiry; they let him go after getting the facts. He didn’t suffer any substantial loss. Through the glass window, Cole looked smug and shot me a provocative gesture. I smiled as I watched him leave, calculating in my head how to break the good news to him that he was getting played.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “420128”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Landon Prescott was the boyfriend I tricked into a relationship. He was deaf. My absolute favorite thing to do was take out his hearing aid when we were tangled up in the sheets, whispering filthy things right into his ear. Until I discovered he was actually the sole heir to the Prescott empire. So, the night we broke up, things got incredibly ugly. Landon, his eyes red and furious, told me to get the hell out. So I did. It wasn’t until three years later, when news of his impending engagement broke, that I finally dared to sneak back to Chicago. Landon looked at me, his face cold and utterly unreadable. But the second we were alone, he turned around and bound my wrists with his leather belt: “Where do you think you’re running to this time?” “My… fiancée.” 01 I lowered my head, pretending to adjust my camera settings. My palms were already slick with sweat. I didn’t expect to run into Landon so soon. “Mr. Prescott, don’t let Piper’s age fool you. She’s practically swept every international photography award over the past few years,” Monica, the senior editor, patted my shoulder and joked. “It took a small fortune to poach her all the way from Los Angeles.” “I promise you won’t regret agreeing to let us shoot your first-ever magazine cover.” Landon Prescott’s gaze swept over me coolly, completely devoid of emotion: “Is that so?” “Then I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Ms. Collins.” It was the most standard, corporate pleasantry imaginable. I lowered my voice, trying to make it sound richer, or at least different from how I sounded years ago: “Of course, Mr. Prescott.” Landon nodded, not sparing me another glance. I lowered my eyes, my eyelashes trembling slightly. He hadn’t recognized me. Makes sense. I had changed my last name. A medical mask covered half my face, and based solely on my outfit, no one would ever connect the person standing here with the bright, arrogant Piper from the past. Throughout the entire shoot, Landon was incredibly cooperative. With just a slight prompt from me, Landon would flawlessly hit the perfect angle. Behind me, the crew was buzzing with whispers: “Mr. Prescott’s physique is insane, right? I’m literally drooling.” “This Piper Collins is no joke. No wonder Monica paid top dollar for her. Her grasp of anatomy and muscle structure is incredible! Just looking at the monitor, you can feel the raw sexual tension radiating from him under that shirt.” I suddenly zoned out. My memory flashed to a younger boy with a flushed neck, completely bare. Even though I had painted him countless times, he was still painfully shy. Of course, that was only during the first half. I don’t know why, but every time I reached the latter half of the painting process, the location would inexplicably change. The bedroom, the sofa, the bathtub, against the floor-to-ceiling windows. It always ended with me exhausted to the bone—more exhausting than drawing ten anatomy sketches! I angrily kicked him: “Landon, you do this every single time!” “I’m never painting you again! I’m finding a new model! One with an eight-pack!” Landon gripped my ankle and said nothing. After a long moment, he leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth: “Piper, I’m sorry.” I paused. Is he recognizing his mistake and promising to change? The next second, Landon took out his hearing aid. Four boxes of condoms, all different flavors. I didn’t get out of bed for a week. Dammit, and he even apologized. How polite of you. But eventually, we still broke up. That night, things got incredibly ugly. Landon’s eyes were red-rimmed, his voice freezing cold: “Piper, this is the last time. I don’t give second chances.” I kept my head down and gave a low “Mhm.” Landon clenched his jaw, scoffing: “Fine. Get the hell out.” “Don’t ever let me see your face again.” “Otherwise, I swear I’ll kill you.” 02 During a break in the shoot, I found a moment to go back to the equipment room to grab a lens I had left behind. Behind me, a shadow fell over me. A familiar woody fragrance drifted into my nose. I turned around stiffly, feigning composure: “Is something wrong, Mr. Prescott?” Landon looked down at me, his gaze exactly the same as years ago. I held my breath, my fingernails digging fiercely into my palms. I can’t lose my cool. “Nothing.” “Just looking around.” Landon’s eyes were pitch black, his smile faint: “But you, Ms. Collins. What are you so nervous about?” I covered my trembling right hand: “The camera is heavy. Holding it for too long makes my hands shake.” “Is that so?” I lowered my head: “Mr. Prescott, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to the set to prep.” Without waiting for his reply, I turned to walk away. “Ms. Collins,” Landon called out, stopping me. “If someone who betrayed you suddenly appeared in front of you again, what would you do?” 03 My breakup with Landon was ugly, but it could definitely be categorized as a betrayal. And knowing Landon’s personality, if he had recognized me, he would have exposed me immediately. He wouldn’t be acting this cold and detached. I steadied my breathing, turned slightly, and spoke with a smile, adopting a purely professional tone: “Mr. Prescott, while I don’t know the history between you and this person, I believe people should always look forward. There’s no need to stay fixated on the minor details of the past.” “Minor details? You’re very magnanimous, Ms. Collins.” Landon curled his lip. “But what if I insist on holding onto it?” “Mr. Prescott, that is your private matter. I am just a photographer; I’m afraid I can’t help you there.” Landon stared at me without speaking. My feigned composure felt like it was going to shatter at any second. After a long pause. “True,” Landon smiled. “Just a photographer.” 04 The entire shoot went very smoothly, wrapping up an hour earlier than scheduled. After seeing Landon off, I started packing up my gear. Zoey, a production assistant, ran over, grabbed my arm, and dragged me toward the door: “Piper, hurry! Something big is happening outside!” “What’s wrong? Did someone—” My words caught in my throat. The plaza outside the studio was covered in roses, with candles spelling out my name in the center. How should I describe it? It was incredibly tacky. I had already rejected Wyatt three times, but he still wouldn’t give up. He even orchestrated this massive, public scene, creating a completely humiliating situation for me. No one knew how awful my face looked under my mask right now. I’m allergic to pollen. Thank God I was wearing a mask. I turned to leave, but Wyatt blocked my path. He held a bouquet of flowers: “Piper, I really, really like you.” “I promise I’ll treat you well.” “Just say yes, please?” For a moment, my mind drifted. I had said those exact same words to Landon once. 05 My initial attraction to Landon was purely superficial. Out of all the people I had ever met, only Landon perfectly matched my ideal type. A bartender at a club, yet he had an aura that screamed ‘do not approach.’ He wore a hearing aid, which only added to his cold, fragile aesthetic. It was only later that I found out the club belonged to the Prescott family. I was obsessed. I used every trick in the book—relentless pursuit, deception, persuasion. Finally, I managed to coax him into my bed. That night, I whispered so many sweet nothings into his ear: “Landon, I really, really like you.” “Landon, I promise I’ll treat you so well. The absolute best.” “Landon, let’s be together, okay?” Landon lifted his head from my neck, his dark eyes staring intensely into mine: “Do you really… like me that much?” I didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze the turbulent emotions in his eyes: “Mhm. Really.” Landon’s voice was hoarse: “If you promise me that you will only ever love me for the rest of your life, then we’ll be together.” At the time, I didn’t think deeply about his use of ‘the rest of your life.’ I lifted my head and bit his lip: “Okay, only you.” It was only after we got together that I realized Landon’s cold, ascetic persona was a complete act. He was greedier than anyone. I loved taking off his hearing aid during the heat of the moment and whispering dirty things in his ear, screaming recklessly. Watching him try to endure it, even though he couldn’t hear. I was arrogant and had a terrible temper. Landon accommodated me, coaxed me, and let me do whatever I wanted. It made me believe we really would be together for the rest of our lives. Until I accidentally saw a photo of Landon and his father on his phone. A summer afternoon, Landon’s fingers gently running through my hair. The warm hum of the hairdryer next to my ear. It turned out Landon’s last name, Prescott, was the Prescott family. My heart felt like it had been plunged into an ice bath. 06 The cheering crowd snapped me back to reality. At some point, Wyatt had dropped to one knee. “Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!” More and more people gathered. The cheers grew louder. More and more people were pulling out their phones to record. My cringe reflex was in overdrive. I took a deep breath, reining in my temper: “Wyatt, I—” My wrist was suddenly clamped in a vice grip. Long, bony fingers squeezed so hard it hurt. I looked up. Our eyes locked. The dark, elongated eyes, like spilled ink, felt like a massive net, threatening to swallow me whole. Landon’s tone was freezing: “Piper, we’re going home.” 07 “What? Afraid I drugged it?” An entire table of food, and every single dish, even the soup, was loaded with chili peppers. I’m the one who loves spicy food. Landon always preferred mild flavors. I paused, completely unable to read Landon’s current intentions. And this apartment—the one we used to share—was actually bought by Landon. I stood up: “Thank you for getting me out of that situation today, Mr. Prescott. It’s getting late, I should be going.” Landon looked up at me, scoffing: “Mr. Prescott? Piper, you’re really quick to draw a line in the sand, aren’t you?” “Since you’re back, shouldn’t we catch up?” I lowered my eyes: “We have nothing to catch up on.” “Nothing?” Landon’s jaw tightened, his voice dripping with mockery. “Right. After all, even if I died right in front of you, you probably wouldn’t even blink.” Landon stared at me, his face as coldly composed as ever, but the veins on his neck were bulging. I looked at him and said softly: “Landon, we are both adults. There’s no need to hold onto the past—” “The past? You’re calling everything we had ‘the past’?” Landon interrupted me, his tone hardening. “Piper, you never fucking loved me at all, did you?” “If you didn’t love me, why did you ever come near me?” Landon gripped my wrist, his eyes dark and brooding: “Piper, I warned you.” “If I ever saw you again, I’d kill you.” “You won’t do it, Landon,” I met his gaze. “I know you.” “You know me? What do you know about me?” “That I’m obedient? Innocent? Compliant? Generous?” Landon scoffed. “I was faking all of it, Piper.” “It was just a disguise to please you.” “Ruthless, selfish, and vindictive. That’s who I really am.” I took a deep breath and said quietly: “Landon, it was my fault for suddenly appearing and bothering you.” “I’ll go to the agency tomorrow and resign. I promise that after—” “Piper.” Landon’s face darkened, his words spoken through gritted teeth. “I really want to cut you open to see if you even have a heart.” The grip on my wrist tightened. The distance between us vanished, our breaths mingling. In Landon’s eyes, desire churned. I struggled fiercely: “Landon, let me go!” The tension was like an arrow about to leave the bowstring. The next second, Landon’s pupils abruptly dilated. He suddenly released me, a storm of emotions raging in his eyes. After a long pause, Landon curled his lip. I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or himself: “Fine. Well done, Piper.” 08 Landon slammed the door as he left, locking me inside the apartment. I only then realized my phone must have fallen out in his car. The clock ticked past 3:00 AM, and Landon still wasn’t back. The closet was lined with rows of brand new women’s sleepwear, all thin and provocative. This wasn’t my style. It must be for Landon’s fiancée. Landon was getting engaged. He owned countless properties; why did he have to bring her here to live? A wave of sour bitterness filled my chest. I violently slammed the closet door shut and went to the bathroom to wash up. While washing my face, I noticed several red spots blooming on my neck and collarbone. I belatedly remembered the bouquet Wyatt had shoved toward me. Dammit. Not only did he humiliate me, but he gave me an allergic reaction. The bedroom door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. Landon, his steps unsteady, walked toward me. The smell of alcohol instantly filled my nose. I scrunched my nose: “Why did you drink so much?” Landon’s voice was hoarse: “After you break up with him, we can pretend everything between you two never happened.” I was stunned: “What does that mean?” Landon’s eyes were tinged with red as he chuckled softly: “What? You can’t bear to part with him?” I dried my hands: “Landon, you’re drunk.” Landon stared at me. The next second, he violently yanked me toward him, turning his head to bite and suck on the side of my neck. A sharp pinch of pain accompanied a tingling sensation. Landon bit down hard: “Piper, if you were going to mess with me, why didn’t you go all the way?” “Why is there someone else?” I instantly realized what he meant and hurriedly explained: “Landon, I didn’t sleep with anyone else.” I pushed him away, creating some distance: “Look closely at these red marks. They’re not hickeys, it’s an allergic reaction! A pollen allergy.” Landon’s cold fingertips traced along my neck, inch by inch. After a long pause, he spoke: “What about me? Do you want to sleep with me?” I froze, not fully processing his words. The next second, Landon pulled off his belt and bound my wrists. The world spun, and my back hit the cold porcelain of the bathtub. I struggled to prop myself up: “Landon, snap out of it. You’re getting engaged.” Landon turned on the water valve, and warm water flowed over my legs. “Yes. So, do you accept my proposal?” Landon looked at me, enunciating every word, “My fiancée.” I was instantly stunned: “The engagement news… was a fake story you released?” “If it wasn’t, how could I get you to come back?” Landon took off his hearing aid and placed it on the shelf. “Piper, I warned you.” His long legs stepped into the bathtub, kneeling on either side of my waist as he leaned down: “If I ever saw you again.” “I would definitely kill you.” 09 My brain buzzed, blood rushing to my head. With Landon’s strength, he could absolutely do what he said. I frantically raised my hands to stop him from getting closer: “Landon, let’s go somewhere else and talk properly, okay?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my mistake. Landon… couldn’t hear. But the next second— Landon grabbed both my wrists with one hand, pinning them above my head, and leaned in close to my ear: “As long as you promise you won’t pass out halfway through, I’ll talk to you.” I froze instantly, feeling like I’d been struck by lightning: “Y-you… you can hear me?” Click. The lights went out. The darkness, accompanied by the damp, rising steam, amplified every sensation. Landon chuckled softly: “I never said I couldn’t hear.” “It’s true that I couldn’t hear very well when I took the hearing aid out initially, but someone was always so unapologetically loud.” In the darkness, his voice carried a seductive, alluring tone: “I liked it very much.” ? So all those dirty things I used to say… Landon heard every single word, loud and clear? My face instantly burned. A million imaginary Barbie Dreamhouses were being built by my curling toes. How should I put this? I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I had no choice but to try a Hail Mary. I pitched my voice higher, faking a tearful, pitiful whimper: “Landon, my wrists hurt.” “Let me go, please?” Landon paused, the grip on my hands subconsciously loosening. This trick always worked flawlessly. I seized the opening and aimed a vicious kick at Landon. But as if he had anticipated it, he caught my leg mid-air. Landon’s fingertips lightly grazed the sole of my foot: “Baby, it’s not a good habit to kick people.” “I’m not letting you escape this time.” The world spun again as our positions reversed. The water splashed against my waist, a tempestuous storm. Landon’s hand pressed firmly down on my lower back: “Piper, say my name.” I bit my lip and turned my head, refusing to answer. Landon didn’t get angry; he abruptly sat up. The sudden movement brought tears to my eyes: “Landon, you’re a fucking bastard!” Landon’s tense body pressed against the shell of my ear, his voice hoarse: “Baby, you’re so beautiful.” ? He actually used the dirty words I used to say against me. A raging hurricane. Landon gave me no room to breathe. I dug my nails fiercely into his back. Heavy breathing, accompanied by the frequent flashes of white light in my mind. Again and again, hovering on the edge of the abyss. Landon kept talking, but I couldn’t hear clearly anymore. My bones felt like jelly, and my vision began to blur. “After all these years, you still haven’t improved,” Landon lifted me from the bathtub, a clear note of pleasure in his voice. “Hold on tight. If you fall, I’m not catching you.”

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The boyfriend I tricked into a relationship. He was deaf. My absolute favorite thing to do was take out his hearing aid when we were tangled up in the sheets, whispering filthy things right into his ear. Until I discovered he was actually the sole heir to the Sterling empire. So, the night we broke up, things got incredibly ugly. Julian, his eyes red and furious, told me to get the hell out. So I did. It wasn’t until three years later, when news of his impending engagement broke, that I finally dared to sneak back to Chicago. Julian looked at me, his face cold and utterly unreadable. But the second we were alone, he turned around and bound my wrists with his leather belt: “Where do you think you’re running to this time?” “My… fiancée.” 01 I lowered my head, pretending to adjust my camera settings. My palms were already slick with sweat. I didn’t expect to run into Julian so soon. “Mr. Sterling, don’t let Harper’s age fool you. She’s practically swept every international photography award over the past few years,” Monica, the senior editor, patted my shoulder and joked. “It took a small fortune to poach her all the way from Los Angeles.” “I promise you won’t regret agreeing to let us shoot your first-ever magazine cover.” Julian Sterling’s gaze swept over me coolly, completely devoid of emotion: “Is that so?” “Then I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Ms. Thorne.” It was the most standard, corporate pleasantry imaginable. I lowered my voice, trying to make it sound richer, or at least different from how I sounded years ago: “Of course, Mr. Sterling.” Julian nodded, not sparing me another glance. I lowered my eyes, my eyelashes trembling slightly. He hadn’t recognized me. Makes sense. I had changed my last name. A medical mask covered half my face, and based solely on my outfit, no one would ever connect the person standing here with the bright, arrogant Harper from the past. Throughout the entire shoot, Julian was incredibly cooperative. With just a slight prompt from me, Julian would flawlessly hit the perfect angle. Behind me, the crew was buzzing with whispers: “Mr. Sterling’s physique is insane, right? I’m literally drooling.” “This Harper Thorne is no joke. No wonder Monica paid top dollar for her. Her grasp of anatomy and muscle structure is incredible! Just looking at the monitor, you can feel the raw sexual tension radiating from him under that shirt.” I suddenly zoned out. My memory flashed to a younger boy with a flushed neck, completely bare. Even though I had painted him countless times, he was still painfully shy. Of course, that was only during the first half. I don’t know why, but every time I reached the latter half of the painting process, the location would inexplicably change. The bedroom, the sofa, the bathtub, against the floor-to-ceiling windows. It always ended with me exhausted to the bone—more exhausting than drawing ten anatomy sketches! I angrily kicked him: “Julian, you do this every single time!” “I’m never painting you again! I’m finding a new model! One with an eight-pack!” Julian gripped my ankle and said nothing. After a long moment, he leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth: “Harper, I’m sorry.” I paused. Is he recognizing his mistake and promising to change? The next second, Julian took out his hearing aid. Four boxes of condoms, all different flavors. I didn’t get out of bed for a week. Dammit, and he even apologized. How polite of you. But eventually, we still broke up. That night, things got incredibly ugly. Julian’s eyes were red-rimmed, his voice freezing cold: “Harper, this is the last time. I don’t give second chances.” I kept my head down and gave a low “Mhm.” Julian clenched his jaw, scoffing: “Fine. Get the hell out.” “Don’t ever let me see your face again.” “Otherwise, I swear I’ll kill you.” 02 During a break in the shoot, I found a moment to go back to the equipment room to grab a lens I had left behind. Behind me, a shadow fell over me. A familiar woody fragrance drifted into my nose. I turned around stiffly, feigning composure: “Is something wrong, Mr. Sterling?” Julian looked down at me, his gaze exactly the same as years ago. I held my breath, my fingernails digging fiercely into my palms. I can’t lose my cool. “Nothing.” “Just looking around.” Julian’s eyes were pitch black, his smile faint: “But you, Ms. Thorne. What are you so nervous about?” I covered my trembling right hand: “The camera is heavy. Holding it for too long makes my hands shake.” “Is that so?” I lowered my head: “Mr. Sterling, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to the set to prep.” Without waiting for his reply, I turned to walk away. “Ms. Thorne,” Julian called out, stopping me. “If someone who betrayed you suddenly appeared in front of you again, what would you do?” 03 My breakup with Julian was ugly, but it could definitely be categorized as a betrayal. And knowing Julian’s personality, if he had recognized me, he would have exposed me immediately. He wouldn’t be acting this cold and detached. I steadied my breathing, turned slightly, and spoke with a smile, adopting a purely professional tone: “Mr. Sterling, while I don’t know the history between you and this person, I believe people should always look forward. There’s no need to stay fixated on the minor details of the past.” “Minor details? You’re very magnanimous, Ms. Thorne.” Julian curled his lip. “But what if I insist on holding onto it?” “Mr. Sterling, that is your private matter. I am just a photographer; I’m afraid I can’t help you there.” Julian stared at me without speaking. My feigned composure felt like it was going to shatter at any second. After a long pause. “True,” Julian smiled. “Just a photographer.” 04 The entire shoot went very smoothly, wrapping up an hour earlier than scheduled. After seeing Julian off, I started packing up my gear. Chloe, a production assistant, ran over, grabbed my arm, and dragged me toward the door: “Harper, hurry! Something big is happening outside!” “What’s wrong? Did someone—” My words caught in my throat. The plaza outside the studio was covered in roses, with candles spelling out my name in the center. How should I describe it? It was incredibly tacky. I had already rejected Carter three times, but he still wouldn’t give up. He even orchestrated this massive, public scene, creating a completely humiliating situation for me. No one knew how awful my face looked under my mask right now. I’m allergic to pollen. Thank God I was wearing a mask. I turned to leave, but Carter blocked my path. He held a bouquet of flowers: “Harper, I really, really like you.” “I promise I’ll treat you well.” “Just say yes, please?” For a moment, my mind drifted. I had said those exact same words to Julian once. 05 My initial attraction to Julian was purely superficial. Out of all the people I had ever met, only Julian perfectly matched my ideal type. A bartender at a club, yet he had an aura that screamed ‘do not approach.’ He wore a hearing aid, which only added to his cold, fragile aesthetic. It was only later that I found out the club belonged to the Sterling family. I was obsessed. I used every trick in the book—relentless pursuit, deception, persuasion. Finally, I managed to coax him into my bed. That night, I whispered so many sweet nothings into his ear: “Julian, I really, really like you.” “Julian, I promise I’ll treat you so well. The absolute best.” “Julian, let’s be together, okay?” Julian lifted his head from my neck, his dark eyes staring intensely into mine: “Do you really… like me that much?” I didn’t have the mental capacity to analyze the turbulent emotions in his eyes: “Mhm. Really.” Julian’s voice was hoarse: “If you promise me that you will only ever love me for the rest of your life, then we’ll be together.” At the time, I didn’t think deeply about his use of ‘the rest of your life.’ I lifted my head and bit his lip: “Okay, only you.” It was only after we got together that I realized Julian’s cold, ascetic persona was a complete act. He was greedier than anyone. I loved taking off his hearing aid during the heat of the moment and whispering dirty things in his ear, screaming recklessly. Watching him try to endure it, even though he couldn’t hear. I was arrogant and had a terrible temper. Julian accommodated me, coaxed me, and let me do whatever I wanted. It made me believe we really would be together for the rest of our lives. Until I accidentally saw a photo of Julian and his father on his phone. A summer afternoon, Julian’s fingers gently running through my hair. The warm hum of the hairdryer next to my ear. It turned out Julian’s last name, Sterling, was the Sterling family. My heart felt like it had been plunged into an ice bath. 06 The cheering crowd snapped me back to reality. At some point, Carter had dropped to one knee. “Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!” More and more people gathered. The cheers grew louder. More and more people were pulling out their phones to record. My cringe reflex was in overdrive. I took a deep breath, reining in my temper: “Carter, I—” My wrist was suddenly clamped in a vice grip. Long, bony fingers squeezed so hard it hurt. I looked up. Our eyes locked. The dark, elongated eyes, like spilled ink, felt like a massive net, threatening to swallow me whole. Julian’s tone was freezing: “Harper, we’re going home.” 07 “What? Afraid I drugged it?” An entire table of food, and every single dish, even the soup, was loaded with chili peppers. I’m the one who loves spicy food. Julian always preferred mild flavors. I paused, completely unable to read Julian’s current intentions. And this apartment—the one we used to share—was actually bought by Julian. I stood up: “Thank you for getting me out of that situation today, Mr. Sterling. It’s getting late, I should be going.” Julian looked up at me, scoffing: “Mr. Sterling? Harper, you’re really quick to draw a line in the sand, aren’t you?” “Since you’re back, shouldn’t we catch up?” I lowered my eyes: “We have nothing to catch up on.” “Nothing?” Julian’s jaw tightened, his voice dripping with mockery. “Right. After all, even if I died right in front of you, you probably wouldn’t even blink.” Julian stared at me, his face as coldly composed as ever, but the veins on his neck were bulging. I looked at him and said softly: “Julian, we are both adults. There’s no need to hold onto the past—” “The past? You’re calling everything we had ‘the past’?” Julian interrupted me, his tone hardening. “Harper, you never fucking loved me at all, did you?” “If you didn’t love me, why did you ever come near me?” Julian gripped my wrist, his eyes dark and brooding: “Harper, I warned you.” “If I ever saw you again, I’d kill you.” “You won’t do it, Julian,” I met his gaze. “I know you.” “You know me? What do you know about me?” “That I’m obedient? Innocent? Compliant? Generous?” Julian scoffed. “I was faking all of it, Harper.” “It was just a disguise to please you.” “Ruthless, selfish, and vindictive. That’s who I really am.” I took a deep breath and said quietly: “Julian, it was my fault for suddenly appearing and bothering you.” “I’ll go to the agency tomorrow and resign. I promise that after—” “Harper.” Julian’s face darkened, his words spoken through gritted teeth. “I really want to cut you open to see if you even have a heart.” The grip on my wrist tightened. The distance between us vanished, our breaths mingling. In Julian’s eyes, desire churned. I struggled fiercely: “Julian, let me go!” The tension was like an arrow about to leave the bowstring. The next second, Julian’s pupils abruptly dilated. He suddenly released me, a storm of emotions raging in his eyes. After a long pause, Julian curled his lip. I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or himself: “Fine. Well done, Harper.” 08 Julian slammed the door as he left, locking me inside the apartment. I only then realized my phone must have fallen out in his car. The clock ticked past 3:00 AM, and Julian still wasn’t back. The closet was lined with rows of brand new women’s sleepwear, all thin and provocative. This wasn’t my style. It must be for Julian’s fiancée. Julian was getting engaged. He owned countless properties; why did he have to bring her here to live? A wave of sour bitterness filled my chest. I violently slammed the closet door shut and went to the bathroom to wash up. While washing my face, I noticed several red spots blooming on my neck and collarbone. I belatedly remembered the bouquet Carter had shoved toward me. Dammit. Not only did he humiliate me, but he gave me an allergic reaction. The bedroom door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. Julian, his steps unsteady, walked toward me. The smell of alcohol instantly filled my nose. I scrunched my nose: “Why did you drink so much?” Julian’s voice was hoarse: “After you break up with him, we can pretend everything between you two never happened.” I was stunned: “What does that mean?” Julian’s eyes were tinged with red as he chuckled softly: “What? You can’t bear to part with him?” I dried my hands: “Julian, you’re drunk.” Julian stared at me. The next second, he violently yanked me toward him, turning his head to bite and suck on the side of my neck. A sharp pinch of pain accompanied a tingling sensation. Julian bit down hard: “Harper, if you were going to mess with me, why didn’t you go all the way?” “Why is there someone else?” I instantly realized what he meant and hurriedly explained: “Julian, I didn’t sleep with anyone else.” I pushed him away, creating some distance: “Look closely at these red marks. They’re not hickeys, it’s an allergic reaction! A pollen allergy.” Julian’s cold fingertips traced along my neck, inch by inch. After a long pause, he spoke: “What about me? Do you want to sleep with me?” I froze, not fully processing his words. The next second, Julian pulled off his belt and bound my wrists. The world spun, and my back hit the cold porcelain of the bathtub. I struggled to prop myself up: “Julian, snap out of it. You’re getting engaged.” Julian turned on the water valve, and warm water flowed over my legs. “Yes. So, do you accept my proposal?” Julian looked at me, enunciating every word, “My fiancée.” I was instantly stunned: “The engagement news… was a fake story you released?” “If it wasn’t, how could I get you to come back?” Julian took off his hearing aid and placed it on the shelf. “Harper, I warned you.” His long legs stepped into the bathtub, kneeling on either side of my waist as he leaned down: “If I ever saw you again.” “I would definitely kill you.” 09 My brain buzzed, blood rushing to my head. With Julian’s strength, he could absolutely do what he said. I frantically raised my hands to stop him from getting closer: “Julian, let’s go somewhere else and talk properly, okay?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my mistake. Julian… couldn’t hear. But the next second— Julian grabbed both my wrists with one hand, pinning them above my head, and leaned in close to my ear: “As long as you promise you won’t pass out halfway through, I’ll talk to you.” I froze instantly, feeling like I’d been struck by lightning: “Y-you… you can hear me?” Click. The lights went out. The darkness, accompanied by the damp, rising steam, amplified every sensation. Julian chuckled softly: “I never said I couldn’t hear.” “It’s true that I couldn’t hear very well when I took the hearing aid out initially, but someone was always so unapologetically loud.” In the darkness, his voice carried a seductive, alluring tone: “I liked it very much.” ? So all those dirty things I used to say… Julian heard every single word, loud and clear? My face instantly burned. A million imaginary Barbie Dreamhouses were being built by my curling toes. How should I put this? I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I had no choice but to try a Hail Mary. I pitched my voice higher, faking a tearful, pitiful whimper: “Julian, my wrists hurt.” “Let me go, please?” Julian paused, the grip on my hands subconsciously loosening. This trick always worked flawlessly. I seized the opening and aimed a vicious kick at Julian. But as if he had anticipated it, he caught my leg mid-air. Julian’s fingertips lightly grazed the sole of my foot: “Baby, it’s not a good habit to kick people.” “I’m not letting you escape this time.” The world spun again as our positions reversed. The water splashed against my waist, a tempestuous storm. Julian’s hand pressed firmly down on my lower back: “Harper, say my name.” I bit my lip and turned my head, refusing to answer. Julian didn’t get angry; he abruptly sat up. The sudden movement brought tears to my eyes: “Julian, you’re a fucking bastard!” Julian’s tense body pressed against the shell of my ear, his voice hoarse: “Baby, you’re so beautiful.” ? He actually used the dirty words I used to say against me. A raging hurricane. Julian gave me no room to breathe. I dug my nails fiercely into his back. Heavy breathing, accompanied by the frequent flashes of white light in my mind. Again and again, hovering on the edge of the abyss. Julian kept talking, but I couldn’t hear clearly anymore. My bones felt like jelly, and my vision began to blur. “After all these years, you still haven’t improved,” Julian lifted me from the bathtub, a clear note of pleasure in his voice. “Hold on tight. If you fall, I’m not catching you.” 10 “What? Planning on just walking out like this?” Behind me, the bathroom door opened. The scent of body wash mixed with steam rolled out. Julian leaned against the doorframe. A bead of water slid from the tip of his hair, down his chest, reaching his waist, and finally disappearing beneath his V-line— My face instantly flushed, my eyes darting away: “N-no, I’m just going to the bathroom.” “You’re walking to the living room to use the bathroom?” Julian walked over and scooped me up in a bridal carry. I was wearing Julian’s hoodie, which barely covered the top of my thighs. I felt awkward and instinctively tried to struggle. As if expecting it, Julian pressed his hand against my leg: “Don’t move, unless you want to go another round.” I turned into a statue. “Eat breakfast.” I paused. He even made breakfast? “Or do you want me to feed you?” I shook my head frantically and grabbed a sandwich, gnawing on it. Silence hung between me and Julian. After a long while, Julian spoke: “When do you have time?” I was a bit lost: “What do you mean?” Julian slowly pulled out a napkin and wiped his hands: “To get the marriage license. To get married.” “You can pick out the wedding dress first. Next week—” I choked violently: “W-wait a minute! Marriage license? Marriage?!” Julian shot me a look: “What? Are you regretting it?” I exploded instantly: “What regret? I never agreed! What is there to regret?” Julian said nothing, pulled out his phone, and hit play. A few seconds of audio was enough to make my face turn bright red. “Stop, stop, stop!” I sprang up and lunged to grab the phone from Julian’s hand. I didn’t get the phone, and my feet got tangled, almost making me fall. Thank god Julian caught me. I stammered in panic: “Th-th-that doesn’t count! Words spoken at a time like that can’t be taken seriously!” “Is that so?” Julian rubbed my wrist bone and looked up. “But you also said you loved me.” “I took it seriously.” I froze, my voice hoarse: “Julian, I—” My words were cut off by the sound of the front door opening behind me: “Why are there women’s shoes here? Julian, you sly dog—Harper?!”

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My husband went through a breakup and has been crying himself to sleep every night. I pretended not to hear him, thinking I was handling our boundaries perfectly. But then he accused me of not caring about him. “Harper, I give you a $300,000 allowance every month.” “And this is how you brush me off?” I felt deeply ashamed. So, I called my eight boyfriends over to the house to take turns counseling him. After all, men understand men better, especially when there are so many of them. I didn’t expect him to have a complete meltdown. 01 Nathaniel has been acting weird lately. He stopped going to the gym and quit racing his sports cars. He even changed his Instagram bio to: “I was planning our future, while you were planning your exit.” He used to be out all night, but now he comes home earlier than I do. I flicked on the light and saw him lying on the couch, looking miserable and utterly shattered. Given his state, it was highly likely he had broken up with his latest little canary. As his legally wedded wife, I simply tiptoed to the bedroom door, closed it, and let out a sigh. Thank goodness things with my boyfriend…s are stable. We’re practically glued at the hip, wishing we never had to be apart. … I thought, given how fast Nathaniel changes women, he’d snap out of this heartbreak haze in no time. But his crying got worse every night. At its peak, the bed was literally shaking. I pretended not to hear it, priding myself on mastering the art of marital boundaries. I didn’t expect Nathaniel to suddenly turn around, his eyes swollen like walnuts, and indignantly accuse me: “Harper, I’ve been crying for days, and you’ve been playing deaf the whole time. “You’re just afraid of inconveniencing yourself. “Is this how a wife should act?” I was completely bewildered by his yelling. It took me a few seconds to process it. He actually wanted me to comfort him?! Ha! Men! He gets his heart broken by some girl outside, and he comes home to cry to his wife. We’re married, sure, but it’s not that I wasn’t willing to comfort him. It’s just that I’m madly in love right now, and he’s heartbroken—I couldn’t empathize at all. What if I said the wrong thing and triggered bad memories? The less you say, the fewer mistakes you make. Meeting Nathaniel’s expectant gaze and red nose, I simply offered a flat “Oh.” Nathaniel lost it. He bolted upright from under the covers, pointed a finger at my nose, and raged: “Harper, I give you a $300,000 monthly allowance. “You went from a country farm girl to the Mrs. Sterling everyone envies. “And this is how you repay me? “Do you have no conscience?” Nathaniel unloaded on me. I lowered my head, drowning in guilt. Back then, when I was raising pigs on a farm in Texas and dreaming of getting rich overnight. Nathaniel showed up. He declared: “I hate the arranged marriage they set up for me. I’m going to marry a country pig farmer to piss them off. “Her. She has the goofiest smile.” Just like that, I miraculously became Mrs. Sterling. On our wedding night, turning his handsome profile to me, Nathaniel coldly tossed a black Amex card at me. He delivered the most romantic lines in the world: “Harper, you are just a tool I married. If you’re smart, don’t harbor any unrealistic fantasies. I, Nathaniel Sterling, could never fall for a pig farmer. You may look decent, but we belong to different social classes. “From now on, we live our own lives. To compensate you, I’ll give you a $300,000 monthly allowance. “Don’t complain it’s too little. For a pig farmer like you, this is all you’re worth.” Complain it’s too little? Never. That was $300,000 a month! Besides, this was my area of expertise. I had just buried an old sugar daddy two years ago. This time, there were no annoying stepchildren, no monster-in-law, a husband who never came home, and I didn’t have to have kids. This was a blessing people would fight for. Tonight, it was my duty to soothe him. I slowly reached out, awkwardly patting Nathaniel’s back. My eyes were sincere and full of deep sympathy: “Don’t be sad. Next time, just find one who doesn’t already have a husband.” 02 Before I could say another word. Nathaniel was so enraged his mouth was twitching. He looked like he needed an ambulance. Before slamming the door on his way out, he dropped a threat: “Harper, if you don’t figure out a way to make me feel better, you can kiss this month’s allowance goodbye.” What? That was a death sentence! What was I supposed to do about my eight sweethearts? Winter was coming, and I was counting on that money to buy them custom-tailored luxury coats. I could suffer a little, but they were young and had delicate skin; they couldn’t just settle for anything. I was so anxious I couldn’t sleep. In the middle of the night, I texted a newly added, aloof guy with killer abs on Snapchat. It had been days, and he only ever replied with a lukewarm “Oh.” He was so damn hard to flirt with. Almost as challenging as the old man’s son, Sebastian Reed. Thank God I ran away immediately after the old man was buried. Unable to find a good conversation starter, I just threw caution to the wind and asked: “Hey cutie, my friend’s husband got dumped and cries himself to sleep every night. It’s breaking my friend’s heart. How can she cheer her husband up?” To my surprise, he replied instantly. “It’s simple. Have your friend’s boyfriend comfort him. Men understand men better.” I slapped my thigh. That was brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that? So, the next day. I prepared a feast with top-shelf liquor. I called my eight boyfriends to the house to take turns counseling Nathaniel. After all, men understand men better, especially when there are so many of them. I refused to believe he couldn’t get over it. Boyfriend #1: “Nate, bro, you’re the golden boy of the Manhattan elite. How can you let a woman who doesn’t love you drag you down like this?” Boyfriend #2: “Nate, if she’s gone, she’s gone. The next one will be sweeter.” Boyfriend #3: “Nate, if it’s really that bad, why don’t you try a silent retreat at a monastery for a while?” Boyfriend #4: “Yeah! Yeah! I’ve heard the ‘Wall Street elite turned Zen monk’ aesthetic is huge right now.” With that, Boyfriend #4 pulled out a singing bowl and was about to start chanting with Nathaniel. That wasn’t going to work! I quickly gave Boyfriend #6 a look. Number Six had high emotional intelligence and was a much smoother talker than the rest. He pushed through the group and familiarly threw an arm around Nathaniel’s shoulder: “Nate, bro. A bad breakup or terminal cancer—which do you choose?” Nathaniel stopped crying, thought about it seriously, and answered: “Breakup.” “A breakup or a lifetime of poverty—which do you choose?” “Breakup.” “There you go!” Number Six clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Still sad?” “I guess not as much.” The eight of them had successfully completed their mission. Nathaniel and I watched them leave. For the first time, there was a spark in Nathaniel’s eyes when he looked at me. “Harper, I always thought you were a boring country bumpkin. I never expected you to have such an interesting group of people around you. “Honestly, I’m starting to get curious about you. Maybe you will become the real Mrs. Sterling someday. “If you behave well, I might even consider having a kid with you. “After all, for you women, a child is security. “By the way, what’s your relationship with them?” I was still reluctantly waving goodbye to the eight of them. I answered without thinking: “Boyfriends. These are just the ones from this year; I broke up with last year’s batch. “I’ve got my eye on another one recently. He only posts ab pics on Snapchat, but based on my years of experience, I guarantee he’s super hot. “Too bad he’s so aloof. He barely even replies to my messages. “Hahaha, makes me want him even more!” After saying that, I chuckled creepily for a few seconds. Then I realized what I had done. Damn it. I just outed myself. 03 Nathaniel’s face looked worse than I had ever seen it. The veins on his forehead were bulging, and his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth were grinding. He looked ready to skin me alive. I opened my mouth to explain, but he grabbed my wrist and slammed me hard against the wall. “Harper, I underestimated you. “Tell me the truth, how many times have you cheated on me?” I shakily raised a hand, making a swearing gesture: “I swear, never enough to fill two poker tables at once.” Sob. I was just worried there would be too many people and they wouldn’t get along. Nathaniel laughed, though he was furious: “Great! Taking my allowance and partying harder than me. You’ve really got skills. “If the guys in my circle found out, where would I put my face? “Harper, I don’t think you need to be Mrs. Sterling anymore.” With that, Nathaniel smashed the most expensive vase in the house and stormed out again. I was terrified. My cash cow was divorcing me. This time, I was genuinely panicking. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. Desperate, I went to Nathaniel’s favorite high-end lounge to find him. In the dimly lit VIP room. Nathaniel sat slouched in the center of the sofa, surrounded by a group of innocent-looking girls. I counted—exactly eight. His imagination was too limited. If it were me, I would have called sixteen. “Well, well, what brings the wife here?” His trust fund friends saw me enter and immediately sat up, looking like they were ready for a show. “Here to drag Nate home?” “Since when did Nate become so whipped?” Hearing this, Nathaniel snorted coldly and mocked: “She really thinks she’s Mrs. Sterling. Overestimating herself.” “Don’t mind him, sister-in-law. Nate just likes to play. “He’ll settle down when he’s older.” I bit my lip and stayed silent. My teary eyes made me look like a fragile, stubborn little flower, humbly begging her lover not to abandon her. “Hubby, I was wrong. Please don’t divorce me. “You are my hero, my true love, the one I want to grow old with. “Without you, I’m a fish out of water. I can’t survive. “Even if you find ten more girls, I don’t mind, as long as you remember to come home.” My passionate confession moved the guys who were hoping for drama to tears. “She loves him so much!” “She’s literally a hopeless romantic.” “What I said earlier was messed up.” The guy slapped his own face. “I’m so jealous Nate has a wife who loves him this much.” Nathaniel’s ego was massively stroked in front of his bros. He shooed away the girls around him, leaving me to help entertain a VIP guest with them. Word was, this VIP came from a prominent family but didn’t rely on his background. He came to New York alone two years ago and now controlled the local economy. Even a born-and-bred elite like Nathaniel had to walk on eggshells around this outsider. In a word: a total boss! I was dying of curiosity to know who this VIP was. The last person who surprised me that much was that psycho, Sebastian. Speaking of Sebastian, he had probably inherited the Reed family empire by now, calling the shots in LA, and married a girl with a background equal to his. They probably even had a second kid on the way. While I was still here, hustling like crazy. I wanted to cry! However, when the VIP room door slowly opened, and I saw the man walk in with his usual aloof expression, sharp features, and an aura that was gentle yet unapproachable… I was dumbstruck. It was Sebastian Reed. He was the VIP they were talking about. What a small world. Why wasn’t he staying in LA? What was he doing here? Was he… here to get revenge for that night? My mind flashed back to the scene of tying his hands and pinning him beneath me. The young man with red eyes, stubbornly saying: “Harper, have you forgotten who you are? You are my stepmother. Do you have no shame? “Stop this right now!” 04 I completely ignored him, ripping off his last piece of clothing: “I didn’t sign a marriage license with your old man, what kind of stepmother am I? “Aren’t you going around spreading rumors that we’re sleeping together? Today I’ll show you what that really means.” What followed was behavior worse than a wild animal, absolutely reprehensible. The high-and-mighty young master of the Reed family was ruined by me just like that. Afterward, Sebastian refused to admit defeat, viciously warning me: “Harper, you better pray you never fall into my hands.” I didn’t take it seriously. When he fell asleep from exhaustion. I pulled my pants up and fled in the dead of night. Just thinking about how furious he must have been when he woke up the next day and couldn’t find me to vent his anger made me feel incredibly satisfied. I thought I would never cross paths with Sebastian again in this lifetime. I didn’t expect us to run into each other tonight. Knowing his petty, vengeful personality, he would definitely tear me into pieces. After all, rumor had it the Reed family’s wealth was built on some shady business. Ugh… it was all the alcohol’s fault. As a good woman, I just made a mistake any woman could make. I prayed to Buddha that he wouldn’t spot me. So I quietly backed up behind the crowd, planning to slip away when they weren’t looking. Success was right in front of me. When suddenly, a waiter pushed the door open. I was exposed in broad daylight. And that sharp gaze immediately locked onto me. “Mrs. Sterling bears a striking resemblance to an old acquaintance of mine. If you didn’t look closely, you might think they were the same person,” Sebastian said lightly, glancing at me. A cigarette was lit between his fingers, the smoke slowly rising. My heart leapt into my throat. Nathaniel’s friends joked: “What a coincidence! Could this old acquaintance be your ex-girlfriend, Mr. Reed?” Sebastian chuckled: “She was my stepmother. She ran away the very night the old man was buried. I have no idea what she was running from. Was she worried my family couldn’t afford to keep her? What do you think, Mrs. Sterling?” “Me?” I shakily wiped the sweat from my forehead. “Maybe she was just too kind and didn’t want to be a burden to you.” “Kind?” Sebastian looked as if he had heard a hilarious joke. “This stepmother of mine is a textbook toxic woman. While the old man was still alive, she blatantly cheated on him.” “What? That’s insane!” “There are women like that in the world?” “Our sister-in-law is nothing like her. Sister-in-law is absolutely devoted and deeply in love with Nate. And she is incredibly innocent. Besides Nate, there will absolutely never be a second man. Right, Nate?” Nathaniel’s grip on his glass tightened so much it almost shattered. “That’s right. Besides me, Harper will absolutely never have a second man.” Nathaniel’s friends shot me looks, clearly wanting credit for hyping me up. I facepalmed in despair. You guys are absolute geniuses. Sebastian raised an eyebrow: “Mrs. Sterling sounds like a truly wonderful woman. “If I manage to find that stepmother, I’ll definitely bring her back to my family and treat her with all the ‘filial piety’ she deserves.” 05 The last few words were said through gritted teeth. After finishing, he forcefully stubbed out his cigarette. I suddenly felt a suffocating sensation, like someone was choking me. I couldn’t say a word of my suffering. Is it possible that the guy I hooked up with was your old man’s lover? I was just a tool who took $10 million to be his cover. Why was all the blame being pinned on me? I was more wronged than a falsely accused martyr. I shakily put down my wine glass, my face pale, and said to Nathaniel beside me: “Hubby, I just remembered I have soup on the stove at home. I need to go back first.” Sob, that kid’s intimidating aura is even stronger than it was two years ago. The way he stared at me sent shivers down my spine. Once out of the room, I wanted to slap myself a few times. “Harper, Harper, you brought this on yourself. Why didn’t you just take the money and run? Why did you have to go out of your way to offend that psycho Sebastian? “When he goes crazy, he even starts rumors about himself. “No, I need to figure out a way to run.” Suddenly, a pair of strong, powerful hands grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty room next door. Before I could react, I was pinned against the wall by Sebastian in a highly compromising position. No, seriously, why do all you VIPs and elite heirs love cornering people against walls? If you guys aren’t sick of it, I am. Sebastian irritably yanked his tie loose, completely stripping away his previous gentle and refined demeanor. “I was wondering why I couldn’t find you. You were hiding in the countryside. Harper, you really are full of surprises. “You kept claiming you’d fight me for the inheritance once the old man died. So why did you run away when he actually died? “I honestly thought you’d stay and fight me for the rest of our lives. “Why are you trembling? Are you really that afraid of me?” I was practically in tears. I’m just a few years older than you, how brave do you think I am? Cause trouble and run, just waiting to get payback? “Harper… no, I should call you Mrs. Sterling now. Two years, and you don’t have anything to say to me? “Or is Mrs. Sterling so forgetful that she’s already forgotten what she did to me that night?” Sebastian furrowed his brows. The grip on my wrist tightened, leaving a red mark on my pale skin. I fought back the pain, tears welling in my eyes, and looked at him pitifully. “Sebastian, you think you’re so smart. Have you ever considered I might have had my reasons? “Actually, I have a split personality. “The one who did those absurd things to you was my second personality. I was afraid she would hurt you, so I was forced to leave.” “Harper, do you think I’m that love-struck old man, so mesmerized by you that I’d believe this kind of garbage?” Sebastian angrily pinned my palm against the wall and leaned in close. Suddenly being this close, my heart involuntarily sped up. This guy Sebastian is absolutely not meant to be viewed up close. Those eyes are like a fox spirit’s, totally captivating. At the time, I only wanted to scare him. Who knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself and actually kissed him. Sebastian struggled at first, but later he grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me back even harder than I was kissing him. Taking a step back, wasn’t he at fault too? You guys have no idea, my back was practically broken the night I ran away. Who on earth said the first time is always fast? It really depends on the person. “Played with me and ran, didn’t even leave a word, and went off and married someone else. Harper, what do you take me for?” 06 I got it. He wanted me to compensate him. I caught on immediately: “I have some savings.” “Do I look like I need your spare change?” “I have extra fingers. Do you want to chop one off to cool down? But let’s get this straight: you can only chop off one.” “I’m not the freaking mafia! How many times do I have to tell you?” This wouldn’t work, that wouldn’t work. I just threw it all out there: “I still have a spot open for a sugar baby. Do you want the job?” Sebastian’s face turned completely black. He clenched his fists, eyes wide with anger: “I am not going to be the other man. Divorce him.” ??? This plot development is weird. It feels like the evil stepsister wanting to be the female lead. Did he actually catch feelings from that one night? I shook my head vigorously. Absolutely impossible. Back when I was at his family’s estate, he hated the sight of me and constantly made my life difficult. We fought openly and secretly for two years. Even his old man would shake his head and sigh, claiming life was unbearable and he wanted to die early. No, wait, he wanted to go to heaven early for some peace and quiet. Several times, I caught the old man secretly trying to pull his own oxygen tube. Thank goodness I stopped him in time. To sum it up. He definitely wants revenge. But why was his method of revenge sending me flirty texts? For several days in a row, Nathaniel got blackout drunk and had to be carried back by his friends and his driver. Strange. I didn’t see him get this drunk when he went through his breakup. Out of curiosity, I asked his friend. His friend sighed: “Don’t even mention it. Last time, the business deal didn’t go through. For days now, Sebastian has been drinking with Nate like his life depends on it, making sure Nate doesn’t go home sober. “If you didn’t know better, you’d think Nate stole his wife.” I silently lowered my head, not daring to make a peep… The next afternoon. When Nathaniel woke up, I was in the living room binge-watching a show. After freshening up. He suddenly said he was taking me out to eat. The location was a romantic couples’ restaurant. Before the food even arrived, he expressionlessly tossed a bank card at me. “There’s $5 million in there. Take this money and break it off with those guys, and I’ll pretend this never happened. “Harper, this is my final bottom line. “Don’t let it happen again.” I nervously took the bank card: “Thank you, Hubby.” It really was time to switch out for a new batch of guys. Suddenly, there was a loud crash behind me. I turned to look. A pure-looking waitress had accidentally dropped a bottle of red wine. The manager rushed over upon hearing the noise. He started berating the waitress. I was just enjoying the show. Who knew Nathaniel would suddenly lose his mind, roll his eyes at me, and take large strides over to shield the waitress. 07 “How much is it? I’ll pay for her.” Seeing that the person was Nathaniel, the manager quickly adopted a respectful attitude. But the waitress was as stubborn as a mule, giving off major female-lead-in-a-drama vibes. “No need. I can pay for it myself.” The manager almost died of anger. “With your $4,000-a-month salary, how are you going to pay for it? Do you know how much this bottle costs? Selling yourself wouldn’t even cover it.” Nathaniel shot the manager a displeased glare. He uncharacteristically humbled himself: “Stop trying to be brave. Between us…” “There is nothing between us. I don’t need your help.” Feeling deeply insulted, the waitress had an emotional breakdown, covered her mouth, and trotted toward the back kitchen. As she ran, she shot me a fierce glare. Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to chase after her. The onlookers, including myself and the manager, were stunned. What a dramatic couple. More entertaining than a reality TV show. Jokes aside. I was very curious to see how dramatic the next part of the plot would be. So I followed them. Sure enough, when I reached the door of the locker room. I heard ambiguous sounds coming from inside. My heart pounded wildly. Through the crack, I could clearly see the two people kissing passionately inside. It was Nathaniel and the waitress from earlier. It looked like she was the little canary Nathaniel was keeping. “Mr. Sterling, we’re already broken up, what are you doing? “If your wife sees, she’ll call me a homewrecker. “Don’t… ah…” The girl’s soft, sweet voice was shattered by Nathaniel’s thrusts. I was too absorbed in watching. I accidentally bumped the door. The people inside noticed and immediately stopped their shameful actions. I turned to run, but unexpectedly crashed into a solid chest. Sebastian! In a moment of desperation, I tried to push Sebastian forward. But he anticipated my scheme a step ahead. He pulled me and hid in the locker room next door. In the cramped space, Sebastian and I were pressed tightly together. The atmosphere was indescribably weird. I shuffled my feet, trying to get further away from him. Then I heard Sebastian’s deep voice from above: “What exactly are you holding onto with him?” 08 I stubbornly replied, “Love.” Sebastian chuckled lightly. “That doesn’t sound like you. To you, love is more like a take-it-or-leave-it accessory.” I didn’t answer. When Sebastian walked me to the door, he suddenly blurted out out of nowhere, “Harper, you have all these boyfriends… what exactly are you looking for?” I didn’t understand what he meant at the time. It wasn’t until the day I arranged to meet my boyfriends that it clicked. That afternoon. I changed into a black dress and a black coat, determined to look as melancholic as possible. They had been with me for six months. Even though we hadn’t slept together, they had provided plenty of emotional value. So I wasn’t going to shortchange them. I arrived at the coffee shop. From a distance, I saw the eight of them taking up two whole tables. A wave of emotion washed over me. I remembered the first time I met them. The salesgirl saw me sitting in the middle and thought I was a modeling scout, looking at me like I was a snack. Until I pulled out a bank card and placed it on the table. She gave me a thumbs-up, her mouth hanging open in shock. I didn’t care about what others thought. I held their hands, overwhelmed with sadness: “There’s $5 million in here. Split it among the eight of you. Go find some good girls to marry. “Just pretend… pretend I never existed.” With that, I covered my face and stood up to leave. Number One, his eyes completely red, stopped me. Number Six pushed the bank card back to me: “Sister, keep this money for yourself. Someone has already arranged everything for us.” “Don’t worry, Sister, we’ll be fine.” “The time we spent with you was wonderful, we’ll always remember you.” “Let’s not contact each other anymore.” With that, the eight of them walked away without looking back. Leaving me standing there, completely dumbfounded. Who the hell stole my scene?! My favorite part of dating was breaking up—handing over the payout while looking deep into their eyes and saying, “I love you so much, but we can never see each other again.” Now, it felt like I was the one being bought off and dumped. I was so angry my whole body was shaking. Six months of build-up. Ruined! It had to be Sebastian, that bastard. Sebastian’s explanation was: “I don’t even want to be the other man, and you want me to be number nine? “Harper, I, Sebastian Reed, am not that kind of guy. You have to take responsibility for me.” I was so furious I almost smashed my phone. I stormed home, and before I could even take a sip of water, Nathaniel shoved me in front of several effeminate-looking men. “Please, gentlemen. She has a gala to attend tonight.” A few hours passed. I stepped out of the room wearing an elegant, minimalist haute couture gown. Nathaniel and his buddies were dumbstruck. “This is the sister-in-law?” “Oh my god, dressed up, she’s prettier than a movie star.” “Nate, I suddenly feel like you don’t deserve her, hahaha!” Their exaggerated reactions were understandable. To maintain my image as a pig farmer, I usually dressed as frumpy as possible. All for the sake of professionalism. That’s why Nathaniel kept calling me a country bumpkin. He thought I wasn’t good enough for him. Now, wearing this glamorous outfit, it felt like I was back in the Reed household. Even though the old man and I were in a fake marriage, he never skimped on my living expenses. And Sebastian was the same. Whatever I wanted, it would appear in my room the next day. At the gala, I caused quite a stir. No other reason than everyone knew I was the country girl Nathaniel brought home to piss off his parents. They didn’t expect me to look nothing like they imagined. “That’s Mrs. Sterling?” “I heard she got plastic surgery to win Nathaniel back.” “What a hopeless romantic, embarrassing all of us women.” ??? Wait, who started these rumors? You high-society people actually believe this garbage? I shook my head in disappointment, then retreated to a corner to text the aloof guy with abs.

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