After three years of marriage, Caleb Sterling’s newest little mistress finally had the nerve to show up at my door. She screamed at me, calling me a “washed-up housewife.” She demanded to know what right I had to stay by Caleb’s side. I looked at her with dull, tired eyes. “The right comes from the years he spent in the gutters of Brooklyn, eating scraps to survive. I was the one who held him through it.” The girl tilted her chin up, her gaze full of contempt. “So you met him a few years earlier. You really think that’s a legacy worth bragging about?” 1 Caleb appeared just in time to witness the standoff. He walked toward me with measured steps. His hand reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear with a tenderness that felt like a lie. “Sloane, why are you at the office?” I held up my phone. “Didn’t you text me to come?” Caleb’s brow furrowed slightly. Behind him, the young girl panicked, grabbing his arm. “Caleb, I’m sorry… I took your phone. I couldn’t keep living like a secret anymore.” She turned her venomous glare back to me. “If this woman would just give up her seat as Mrs. Sterling, we could finally—” “Get out.” Before she could finish, Caleb cut her off. “What?” The girl froze, her eyes welling with tears. “Misty, I said get out.” Caleb’s voice was flat, his eyes as cold as a winter morning in Manhattan. “But why…” The girl bit her lip, her face turning ashen. She probably couldn’t wrap her head around how the man who was so gentle in bed yesterday could become a monster today. “Compared to my wife, you’re nothing.” Caleb let out a short, mocking laugh. I knew then that Caleb would never see this girl again. She was too naive. She mistook a billionaire’s game for true love and was stupid enough to try and flex on me. 2 I met Caleb when he was eight. Back then, he wasn’t the long-lost heir to the Sterling dynasty. We were both victims of a child trafficking ring. We spent years being shifted from one abusive “foster home” to another until the FBI finally raided the place and put us in an orphanage. The orphanage was better, but it was still a war zone of bullying and hunger. Because we were older, no one wanted to adopt us. So Caleb and I fought our way through it together. We entered the world with nothing but each other. We knew the bitterness of being scammed out of our last dollar. We knew the embarrassment of splitting a single bowl of ramen while people stared at us in disgust. During the coldest winter in Chicago, when the heat was shut off in our tiny apartment, I leaned on his shoulder and looked out at the frost on the glass. I asked him, “Caleb, what’s your dream?” He gripped my hand, his voice deep and gravelly. “To make enough money to marry Sloane Vance in the most expensive cathedral in the world.” Caleb actually did it. He gave me a one-of-a-kind Harry Winston ring and a wedding dress encrusted with real diamonds. When he married me, the Manhattan skyline was lit up with five hundred drones spelling out my name. The tabloids called it the “Billion Dollar Union.” Everyone envied me. They couldn’t believe the Sterlings—an old-money dynasty—would allow Caleb to marry a girl with no name and no background. But I knew the price he paid. To this day, his back is still covered in scars from the physical “discipline” his father enforced to keep him in line. The Sterling cousins were like sharks. To keep his position as CEO, Caleb worked until he coughed up blood. He flew between New York and London like a ghost. I watched him wither, heart aching, but I was powerless. I could only shrink my own personality, trying my best to play the role of the perfect Mrs. Sterling. 3 At a gala filled with the city’s elite, the wives gathered in a circle, sipping champagne while casually discussing their husbands’ affairs. To them, love was a punchline. Seeing my silence, a woman named Mrs. Harrington reached out and squeezed my hand. “Sloane, dear, you’ll have to get used to it. As Caleb grows the Sterling empire, he’ll need a few ‘distractions’ to blow off steam. It’s inevitable.” I froze, then firmly shook my head. “Caleb isn’t like that.” Mrs. Harrington gave me a small, pitying smile. She didn’t agree, but she didn’t argue. “When a man stands at the peak of power,” she said, “the temptations are infinite.” The way she looked at me was like she was looking at a ghost. 4 I never believed Caleb would betray me. Until the day I looked through a cracked door at a private club and saw Caleb letting a woman kiss his neck while another unbuttoned his shirt. He sat there, draped in a silk robe, lazily exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke that blurred his features. The coldness seeped from my limbs into my heart, paralyzing me. It wasn’t until a guest noticed me and gasped, “Mrs. Sterling!” that I finally snapped back to reality and ran. I don’t remember the expression on Caleb’s face then. I only remember him shoving the women aside and chasing me down, pinning me into a hug in the hallway. He whispered over and over in my ear, “Sloane, don’t cry. I love you. Only you.” He promised it would never happen again. I didn’t know if he was trying to comfort me or lie to himself. They say when faced with agonizing pain, the human brain chooses to flee. But can you really run away from a reality that’s already happened? That night, as I watched Caleb sleep, I felt like my heart was being carved out with a dull knife. Once the seed of doubt is planted, it grows into a forest. I became a neurotic mess. Every business trip, every gala, every vibration of his phone, every late-night call became a trigger for my anxiety. Finally, one night when he came home late, the war exploded. I smelled gardenias on his coat. I screamed. I threw the expensive porcelain. I smashed our wedding photo in the hallway. “Sloane, in this world, no one stays clean,” Caleb said, rubbing his temples in exhaustion. “I’m sorry, but you’re the only one I actually love.” He left that night, telling me I needed to “cool off.” I knelt in the glass shards, sobbing until my hands bled. I wasn’t just losing my husband; I was losing my mind. The suffocating pain eventually spiraled into clinical depression. I trapped myself in the past, in the promises he once made. Mrs. Harrington was the first to notice my illness. She sighed and held my hand. “Sloane, you’re walking down my old path.” I looked down, my heart a hollow shell. I wondered if Caleb felt any guilt—his wife was trying to slit her wrists in a dark room while he was drowning in the pleasure of a warm, new body. 5 Misty Hayes wasn’t the last “canary” Caleb kept. A few days later, I heard at a lunch that he had picked up a pair of sisters—models from LA. No wonder when he came home, he looked so satisfied. Caleb came home early tonight. He had clearly showered; he smelled like fresh soap and expensive cologne. “The maid said you’ve been painting for three hours. Aren’t you tired?” He hugged me from behind, burying his face in my neck. I put down my brush and pulled away, methodically cleaning my palette. “No.” During my darkest days, I took up painting. It was the only time I could forget the things that were killing me. “Sloane, this painting is beautiful.” I heard his gentle voice, but my lips only curled into a bitter smirk. It had to be beautiful. It was a gift for someone else. “By the way, Mom called,” Caleb said, using a wet wipe to clean the paint off my hands as if I were a fragile piece of art. “She said you aren’t answering your phone. Are we going to see her for the holidays?” “No.” I pulled my hand back. The “Mom” he was talking about was my biological mother, Lydia Vance. Caleb had spent years using his resources to find my family. Two years ago, he succeeded. My biological father was dead. My mother had remarried and had a daughter who was now a senior in college. Lydia only wanted me back so I could get Caleb to secure a high-paying executive job for her “real” daughter. She told me she felt guilty about losing me, yet she gave all the love she “owed” me to my sister. I told her I was allergic to shellfish. She still put shrimp in my pasta. In her eyes, I saw only a business opportunity, not a daughter. “What’s wrong? Still fighting with her?” Caleb asked with a chuckle. “I’m done maintaining a fake relationship, Caleb. It’s exhausting. As of today, I don’t have a mother.” I looked into his eyes, my voice flat. Maybe I was too blunt. Caleb froze. A strange look passed over his face, and he gripped my chin. “Sloane, you’ve changed so much. You used to ask when I’d be home for dinner. You used to pick out my ties every morning…” Oh, Caleb. People don’t change overnight. When I asked when you’d be home, you were in another woman’s bed. The ties I picked for you were being loosened by other fingers. Every moment of my life was a reminder of your betrayal. It made me sick. 6 On New Year’s Eve morning, I was at my studio door, and Caleb called. He said he’d be home early to ring in the New Year with me. I said, “Fine.” Then I hung up. I was trying to hang a banner over the door, but I couldn’t reach the top. I needed a stool. Suddenly, a pale, slender hand reached out and held the corner of the banner for me. I turned around and looked at the young man standing there. He was wearing a white hoodie, his eyes full of a playful light. “Hey, Sloane. Doing the heavy lifting without me? Not cool.” I met Hunter Thorne at a gallery last year. It was the only time Caleb had stood me up for a show. I was standing in front of a painting of sunflowers, and the brushstrokes felt familiar. It reminded me of a piece I had bought at a charity auction a year ago. The other socialites thought I was crazy for spending millions on an unknown artist. But I bought it because I saw myself in that painting—the hesitation, the pain, the struggle. Hunter appeared right then. I met his burning gaze. “You like it? If you do, it’s yours.” I thought he was joking until the organizers delivered the painting to my house the next day. 7 Since that day, Hunter had been an uninvited guest in my life. Even I wasn’t dense enough to miss his intentions. I told him a thousand times that I was married. He didn’t care. He treated my warnings like background noise. Finally, during an outdoor sketching trip, I snapped at him. “Do you have any shame? I hate home-wreckers. Get out of my sight. You disgust me.” Hunter went still for a long time. He looked utterly crushed as he walked away. It worked… for about two days. Hunter was the polar opposite of me. He was vibrant and loud. But he was also stubborn. Once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t let go. Sometimes his persistence gave me a headache, but there were moments when I was grateful he was the one person who refused to leave my side. 8 When I left the carnival with Hunter, it was late. My phone was buzzing in my pocket—Caleb again. I just shut the phone off. “Is it okay not to answer?” Hunter asked, his voice low. I smiled. “Where to next?” He excitedly put a pink helmet on my head and tapped the visor, glancing at the shadows behind me. “Somewhere he’ll never find us.” The motorcycle roared to life. I instinctively gripped Hunter’s waist as he sped through the empty streets and hidden alleys. The wind howled in my ears, and the city lights became a blur. Suddenly, fireworks exploded over the horizon. Hunter shouted into the night: “Happy New Year! Sloane Vance, keep moving forward! Don’t you dare look back!” I curled my lips into a smile and shouted with him. 9 It was nearly midnight when I got back to the estate. The lights were off, and the room reeked of smoke. Caleb was sitting on the sofa, looking drained. When he saw me, he stood up, forcing a smile. “Sloane. I couldn’t reach you. I thought you went to Lydia’s.” I just hummed, taking the exit he offered me. As I turned to go upstairs, Caleb’s raspy voice stopped me. “Sloane, I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt you fell in love with someone else and left me.” He paused for a few seconds. “You’ll always love me, right?” He looked at me desperately, searching my eyes for an answer. I suddenly found it hilarious. Fate is a circle. In the past, I had asked myself that same question a thousand times: Does Caleb still love me? Back then, I thought he did. He planted my favorite roses in the garden. He bought me an estate for my birthday. He even walked for miles in a blizzard to find me specific medicine when I was sick. But his love was divisible. He could love me while being intimately entangled with half a dozen other women. I knew how he played. In that circle, threesomes and flings were just part of the lifestyle. The other wives told me not to take love so seriously. But I couldn’t do it. I spent my days looking for proof that he loved me just a little more than the others. Until Hunter told me that real love doesn’t need to be proven.

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When my parents announced they were officially adopting Mia Campbell, I packed my bags and moved out at the speed of light. “I’ve cleared out my space. From now on, she can be your biological daughter. See you around, or maybe never.” As the cannon fodder supporting character in this “pampered heroine” novel, I decided to officially quit playing the game in this lifetime. Mia wants my parents? She can have them. She wants my brother? Take him. She wants my childhood sweetheart? Free delivery. Oh wow. Now they’re the ones left dumbfounded. 1 On the day Mia Campbell and my childhood sweetheart got married, I died. My soul floated in the air, drifting right into their lavish wedding venue. The reception was held at a five-star luxury hotel. The decor was extravagant, dreamy, and sickeningly perfect. I had to admit, my parents really didn’t hold back when it came to spending money on her. Amidst the joyful and relaxed atmosphere, I watched my biological parents and my older brother take the stage one by one, delivering warm, tear-jerking speeches to the newlyweds. They laughed together, took photos, raised their glasses… Until my brother, Liam Sinclair, received a call from the police department. Two minutes later, he said a completely expressionless “Understood” and hung up the phone. “Liam, who was that?” Mia, wearing a dreamy, pure-white designer wedding gown, asked with a hint of a pout. “No one important.” Liam shook his head slightly, looking at her with absolute adoration. To avoid ruining Mia’s perfect mood, he actually hid the news of my death from her. In reality, that was completely unnecessary. Because right before I died, I was on the phone with Mia. She was the one who instructed her psychotic stalker to end my life. How could that bitch not know I was dead? Mia looked up, flashing Liam a bright, joyful smile: “Thank you, Liam. Thank you, and thank Mom and Dad for everything you’ve done for me. I love you guys so, so much.” Fuck! Even as a ghost, I couldn’t stop myself from cursing. Mia was an expert at spouting these nauseating, useless pleasantries. It didn’t cost her a dime, yet it kept these idiots utterly devoted to her. Why wouldn’t she? Liam was visibly moved. He pulled Mia into a tight hug and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead: “You don’t need to thank us, Mia. You deserve all of this and more.” The two shared a knowing, sickening smile. I was so disgusted I couldn’t watch anymore. Just as I charged forward, wanting to deliver a ghost-kick to Liam’s face, the scene before me suddenly warped, flashing rapidly like a movie reel. After a severe bout of dizziness, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn. 2 I was reborn at the age of sixteen, on the exact day our family moved into our new Riverside Estate mansion. Mia Campbell was the daughter of my dad’s late best friend. Her biological parents had died in a car crash. With no relatives willing to take her in, she lived in a local orphanage for a few years before my dad finally tracked her down. At this point in the timeline, she had been living with us for three months. Her backstory was pitiful, yet she was “resilient and unyielding.” She was an orphan, yet she was “kind and adorable.” Everyone loved her. In the short three months she had been with us, my parents couldn’t bear to let her sleep in the attic room anymore. For her sake, they upgraded our entire living situation and bought this massive riverside mansion. And I woke up right in this exact moment. My dad’s excited voice rang in my ears: “Alright, kids! Go pick your own rooms! Everything is fair game except for the master suite!” I remembered now. On move-in day, my parents let us choose our rooms. Both Mia and I had our eyes on the south-facing suite on the second floor. Not only did it have a luxurious soaking tub, but it also featured massive floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the sparkling river. Thinking of this, I immediately marched up to the second floor. “I want this one.” Just as I said that to my dad, Mia walked in. Her face instantly lit up. “Wow! This room is so beautiful! “Mom, can I stay in here?” My dad froze for a second. I had fully anticipated Mia’s reaction, so I said coolly: “Are you deaf? I just said I’m taking this room.” Hearing my blunt refusal, Mia immediately put on a panicked, fragile expression: “I’m so sorry, Hazel. I really didn’t hear you. “If you like this room, you should have it! Honestly, I can sleep anywhere. Compared to my old room at the orphanage, anywhere here is like heaven. “Mom and Dad are so incredibly good to me. I’m just so scared I’ll never be able to repay you all.” Here we go again. The classic manipulation script. It sounded so painfully fake, yet it moved some people to tears. “Hazel, why don’t you… let Mia have this room? You can take one downstairs,” my dad hesitated before asking me. My mom chimed in from the side: “He’s right, Hazel. Honestly, the rooms upstairs and downstairs aren’t that different. Mia has had such a hard life.” The exact same scenario. The exact same words. But unlike the shock and heartbreak I felt in my past life, this time, my heart was as calm as stagnant water. “Mom, Dad, let’s get one thing straight. I am your biological daughter.” They exchanged a look. My dad then continued: “Hazel, your mother and I have decided to officially adopt Mia. From today onward, both of you are our precious daughters.” Mia covered her mouth in disbelief, tears shimmering in her eyes: “Really? Mom, Dad… are you really willing to adopt me?” Liam also looked surprised, but thrilled: “You’re adopting Mia?!” My mom’s eyes were full of maternal love as she nodded firmly: “Yes, Mia. Now I really get to be your mother.” Mia threw herself into my mom’s arms, massive teardrops rolling down her cheeks. “Sob… Mom, thank you! Thank you, Dad! I love you guys so, so much.” “Gag…” I couldn’t control my gag reflex and dry-heaved loudly. Because the sound was so loud, everyone turned to stare at me. Liam frowned deeply, looking highly displeased: “Hazel Sinclair, what the hell are you doing?” “My bad,” I waved my hand apologetically. “I think I might be pregnant.” The moment the words left my mouth, everyone’s eyes bulged out of their heads. Then I suddenly remembered I was only sixteen right now. I smacked my forehead in annoyance: “Oops, misspoke. I meant I think I ate something bad and have a stomachache.” My parents’ expressions were incredibly hard to read. Mia was halfway through her tears, but her emotional performance was completely derailed by my interruption. She looked completely lost. “Well, since you’re adopting Mia Campbell, I’ll just move out. I don’t want this room anymore either. “I’ve cleared out my space. From now on, she can be your biological daughter. See you around.” With that, I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave. “Hazel Sinclair.” My dad stopped me angrily. “Stop being such a spoiled brat.” Spoiled brat? I just didn’t want to be the cannon fodder side character anymore. I refused to end up betrayed by everyone and dying alone on the streets in this lifetime. “Dad, I’m serious. It’s either Mia or me. If she stays, I leave. You and Mom can decide.” “Hazel, what did Mia ever do to you? Why have you become so selfish?” my mom scolded, her face darkening. With my “help,” Mia’s emotional act came right back. Her eyes reddened, and tears fell like rain: “Mom, Dad, please don’t fight with Hazel because of me. I’m not worth it.” “Enough, Hazel!” Liam pulled Mia into his arms and roared at me, “Apologize to Mia right now!” Apologize to my ass. I rolled my eyes. Truly the pampered heroine of the novel. With one effortless sentence, my brother turned into her loyal attack dog. No wonder I couldn’t beat her in my past life. But in this life, I’m done playing. So what if I’m the cannon fodder? Can’t I just quit? Can’t I stay far away from this family? Can’t I go find my own happiness? If this place won’t have me, somewhere else will. “Bye-bye, big bro. If you want an apology, you can say it to the mirror. I’m out of here.” Perhaps realizing I was serious, my dad furrowed his brows: “Hazel, you are a minor. We have legal guardianship over you.” True. I wasn’t eighteen yet. If I were, the first thing I would do is emancipate myself and cut off all legal ties. I wouldn’t waste time arguing with them. “If you want me to stay, fine. First, I do not consent to you adopting her. She can stay here temporarily as a guest. “Second, this room is mine. Non-negotiable.” My dad didn’t speak. He just stared at me quietly. After a long while, he finally said in a heavy tone: “Your mother and I have already made up our minds about adopting Mia. That will not change. “As for the room… Hazel, you already have so much. Why must you fight Mia for this?” 3 Even though I fully expected this outcome, my heart still gave an uncontrollable, painful twinge. What exactly did I have? I used to have biological parents and a brother who loved me. But not anymore. They had been stolen by Mia. If I didn’t leave now, I would end up with the exact same tragic fate as my past life. I would watch helplessly as Mia systematically conquered my parents, my brother, and my childhood sweetheart. The day the pampered heroine got her “Happy Ending” was the exact day I was left to rot on the streets. I sighed: “Then there’s nothing to discuss. I’m sorry, Dad. You’re the ones who didn’t want me first. From now on, my life has nothing to do with you.” My dad finally snapped, his voice sharp and furious: “Hazel Sinclair, are you completely deaf to reason?! If you walk out that door today, don’t ever come back!” “Hazel, apologize to your father right now, or I won’t be able to help you either!” my mom glared at me, her face thunderous. Mia, who had been leaning weakly against Liam’s chest, opened her big, innocent eyes and looked over. A blatant, triumphant smirk flashed across her eyes. She didn’t even try to hide it. In my past life, I saw that exact smile on her face constantly. Whenever I fought, argued, and threw tantrums, only to lose the room to her anyway, she would smile at me just like that. I still vividly remember her joy and excitement when she moved into this room. “Sister, thank you so much for being so good to me! Sob… I really love it here so much!” Even though her mouth was saying thank you, I could clearly see the triumph in her eyes. It was the joy and arrogance of winning a war. When my parents took her and Liam on a vacation but left me behind. When they returned, Mia smiled at me with pure passive-aggression: “Sister, Mom and Dad were just worried about distracting you from your AP English exam next week, which is why they didn’t bring you. You’re not mad, right?” I wasn’t the only one taking exams. Liam was taking them too. Just because they could only book four first-class tickets, my biological parents chose to take their adopted daughter and leave me behind. Afterward, I tearfully asked my mom why they did that. “Hazel, you’ve already been to Hawaii, haven’t you? Mia has never been on a vacation before. Don’t you think she’s pitiful?” That word again. What does her being pitiful have to do with me? I wasn’t the one who made her an orphan. “What about Liam? He’s been there too.” My mom was speechless for a moment before compromising: “How about this… Next time Mom and Dad go on a trip, we’ll make it up to you.” And naive, stupid me actually believed her. Where in the world are there parents who love their adopted daughter more than their own flesh and blood? Well, reality proved it. They exist. And I was unlucky enough to be born to them. My parents started “forgetting” me on a regular basis. They would take Liam and Mia to the movies, and I would only find out when they got home that night. The family of four would drive out for a weekend camping trip, and I would only hear about it weeks later. Mia realized that acting cute and throwing tantrums worked wonders on my parents. If she said she wanted an iPad today, my dad would have it for her tomorrow. If she mentioned liking a designer bag in the morning, my mom would gift it to her that night. Her status in my parents’ hearts far surpassed mine, and her allowance was significantly higher. Liam was even worse. He turned into an obsessed, overprotective brother. Of course, the sister he protected wasn’t me. He introduced Mia to all his friends and classmates. Every time he came back from basketball practice, he’d bring her favorite boba tea. He threw thousands of dollars to get her VIP tickets to her favorite singer’s concert. And because Mia didn’t like cats, he threw away the kitten I had been raising for years without even telling me. I cried until I couldn’t breathe, but my “good brother” just said dismissively: “It’s just an animal, what’s the big deal? It almost scratched Mia’s hand last time. It needed to go.” The truth was, my cat was incredibly sweet. If you didn’t provoke it, it would never attack anyone. The more I hated Mia, the more the rest of the family loved her. In my past life, I never understood why it had to be this way. It wasn’t until right before I died that I finally understood. It turned out Mia was the main character of a “pampered heroine” novel, and I was just the cannon fodder side character. My fifteen years of a smooth, happy life were just setting the stage for her triumphant arrival. In this life, I absolutely refuse to endure it. Even if it means death, I want to see if this pampered heroine can still get her “Happy Ending” if I refuse to play my part in her plot. “Apologizing is impossible. I will never apologize in this lifetime. Mom, Dad, take care.” 4 Half a month later, I moved into Beverly Hills’ most prestigious neighborhood—The Pinnacle Estate. In a place where the average property price hovered around $4,000 per square foot, I truly learned what “prime real estate” meant. A woman in an elegant white sundress walked toward me, a warm smile on her face. “Hazel.” “Godmother.” I broke into a massive, radiant smile. “Did you bring all your luggage? Is this really it?” “I brought it all! I didn’t have much stuff to begin with.” “Alright, I’ll have Spencer show you to your room on the third floor.” “Thank you, Godmother.” Spencer Davenport was the same age as me, currently a freshman in high school, but he was much taller, at least 6’0″. He was strikingly handsome, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes—the epitome of elegance. He was the standard “wealthy young master.” The aura he exuded could be summed up in two words: Noble and aloof. His older brother, Ethan Davenport, had a slightly warmer, more refined intellectual vibe. Both brothers were ridiculously good-looking. The kind of handsome that could make people swoon. No wonder rich men loved marrying supermodels and actresses; it guaranteed the next generation’s genetics. And Mrs. Davenport? She won a national beauty pageant back in the day with her earth-shattering looks. The elevator reached the third floor. I opened the bedroom door. Even though I was mentally prepared, I was still stunned by the sight. You could literally jog laps inside this bedroom. There was a luxurious crystal chandelier and an elegant, vintage king-sized bed. Through the glass doors, you could take in the entire glittering night view of the city. It truly lived up to being a hundred-million-dollar mansion. I gave a polite smile: “Thank you, Spencer.” He gave a slight nod. Perhaps feeling he was being too cold, he added in a flat tone: “You’re welcome.” After Spencer left, I walked up to the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was perfectly quiet. In the distance, neon lights flashed, and the city lights looked breathtakingly beautiful. I never imagined Los Angeles had such a serene, peaceful enclave. The view here was a million times better than our old riverside mansion. I had to admit, the life of the ultra-rich was beautifully unpretentious. 5 The past two days were final exams. Previously, I had faked a broken leg and took a week off from my homeroom teacher. Finishing the exams meant my middle school life was officially over. As soon as I walked out of the school gates, I saw my dad’s car. He was here to pick up Mia after her exams. She was in the same grade as me, having transferred to this school six months ago. What a great father. “Sister! What a coincidence!” Seeing me, Mia cheerfully waved her small hand. My dad’s gaze landed on me. His previously gentle, loving expression instantly turned frigid. I knew he was waiting for me to obediently bow my head, apologize, and deeply repent for my actions from half a month ago. He probably expected me to beg for his forgiveness with tears streaming down my face. As my footsteps drew closer. “Hello, Mr. Sinclair.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the man’s face turned ashen. His eyes flared with anger: “Hazel Sinclair, what kind of attitude is that?” I shrugged: “Looks like I shouldn’t have said hi. Next time I see you, I’ll just treat you like a stranger.” My dad glared at me intensely, looking utterly disappointed: “Hazel Sinclair, if you don’t move back home within three days, don’t bother coming back ever.” “Understood, Mr. Sinclair.” With that, I walked away without looking back. 6 After lunch, I returned to the classroom. Mia was currently inviting the entire class to her birthday party. As her classmates took the invitations, they showed looks of intense envy. “Wow, Mia, you actually live in the Riverside Estate? Aren’t the houses there super expensive?” “More than just expensive. My dad says it’s a premier gated community. The cheapest house there is at least three million dollars.” “Mia, do you live in an actual mansion?” … Mia covered her mouth, giving a sweet, elegant smile: “My house is two stories, yes, and it faces the river.” “Wow, I want to go! I’ve never seen what a mansion on the river looks like!” “Me too, me too!” In an instant, the classroom was buzzing with excitement. After a while, Mia walked up to me holding an invitation, looking incredibly smug: “Sister, are you coming to my birthday party?” Meeting her triumphant gaze, I took the envelope without hesitation: “Sure.” Her smile completely jammed. Her fingers gripped the invitation tightly, refusing to let go. I knew it. Mia just wanted to use this to show off and rub it in my face. She absolutely didn’t want me at her birthday party. If I went and casually greeted our parents, her facade as the “adopted orphan” would be exposed. She wasn’t going to let that happen. I mocked her: “Didn’t you invite me to your party? Let go of the envelope, then.” Mia smiled, looking very strained: “Sister, if you’re too busy, you really don’t have to come.” “Who said I’m busy? I have all the free time in the world.” Her hand still didn’t let go as she put on a troubled expression: “I’m just worried that if you suddenly show up at the house, it will make Mom and Dad angry again. They’ve finally been in a better mood these past two days.” I gave her a cold smile: “Aren’t you overstepping a bit? They are my biological parents.” Mia stared at me deeply, the fake warmth in her eyes vanishing completely. She didn’t bother pretending anymore. “You don’t know yet, do you? Mom and Dad have decided to send me to Edenbridge Academy for high school. Since you willingly gave up this family, you should just stay far away. Why come back and humiliate yourself?” Her words didn’t surprise me at all. In my past life, Mia also attended Edenbridge Academy. It was an elite prep school known nationwide for its astronomical tuition and world-class faculty. Tuition was $30,000 per semester, $60,000 a year. Liam was a year older than us and also went to Edenbridge. Between the two of them, their tuition cost $120,000 a year. Why do I specify “the two of them”? Because I didn’t go there. I attended a very ordinary public high school because I had good grades, while Mia had terrible ones. “Hazel, your grades are excellent, so it doesn’t matter where you go. Mia is different. If she doesn’t push hard these next three years, she won’t be able to get into a good college. “I heard Edenbridge has Ivy League-level instructors. Mom and Dad have decided to transfer Mia there.” Those were the words my own biological mother told me in my past life. And that was exactly what my biological parents did to me. I cried, rebelled, and even went on a hunger strike, but they didn’t budge. They firmly enrolled Mia at Edenbridge. No one would believe it if I told them. They paid $60,000 a year for an adopted daughter’s elite private school, while sending their biological daughter to a public school for free. The worst part was that no one in the family thought there was anything wrong with this. Sitting at the dinner table every night, listening to Liam and Mia discuss the interesting things happening at their elite prep school, was worse than torture. Eventually, I just moved into a dorm at my public school and stopped going home altogether. 7 End of flashback. I was just about to throw a sarcastic comeback at Mia when a familiar voice suddenly called out. “Mia.” A flicker of emotion crossed Mia’s eyes, and a bizarre look flashed across her face as she looked at me. The next second, she threw herself backward onto the floor. Noah Brooks’s panicked voice rang out: “Hazel Sinclair, what did you do?!” I had to admit, Mia—this little bitch—really had some tricks up her sleeve. She set me up again. After being helped up by Noah, Mia’s eyes reddened. Wiping away tears, she sobbed pitifully: “Noah, I… I just wanted to invite my sister to my birthday party. I thought I could find a chance for her to clear up the misunderstanding with Mom and Dad so she could move back home. But my sister just shoved me to the ground without a word.” Noah glared at me fiercely, his tone full of absolute disgust: “Hazel, are you out of your mind?!” Looking at this childhood sweetheart who, not too long ago, was inseparable from me and shared everything with me… he now looked at me with such intense revulsion that he didn’t even want to spare me a glance. I buried my emotions and looked back with cold eyes: “Yeah, I am. Do you have the cure?” He choked on his words for a second, then fired back defensively: “I’m warning you, don’t mess with Mia at school. She’s not a pushover…” “Which eye of yours saw me mess with her?” “I saw it with both my eyes!” “Noah, it’s okay.” Mia grabbed onto his arm, looking agitated. Biting her lip, she looked up pitifully: “Sister is probably still angry about the time I gave you her love letter. I’m sorry, sister, I really didn’t do it on purpose. I just wanted to help you. I thought since you liked Noah, he should know.” Hearing this, a look of realization dawned on Noah’s face, making his expression even more condescending: “Hazel, it’s never going to happen between us. I like Mia. Please stop flattering yourself.” Whispers broke out all around us. Some people looked at me with pure schadenfreude. “What happened? Hazel confessed to Noah?” “Looks like she got rejected, too. What kind of drama is this? Childhood friend losing to the new girl?” “Tsk, tsk. I get to witness a massive love triangle today.” I looked at Mia. Her face looked as innocent and harmless as a baby deer, but her eyes were brimming with smugness and provocation. In her second month at our house, she had taken a love letter from my room and handed it to Noah. It was a letter I had written a year prior, planning to confess my feelings to Noah, but for various reasons, I never gave it to him. Mia had handed it over without my permission, and afterward, she hid behind the stupid excuse of: “If you love someone, you should shout it to the world!” I genuinely felt she was treating me like a complete idiot. She’s the pampered heroine, right? Fine. Let’s see who wins this game. 8 The two-month summer vacation flew by, and the first day of school arrived. Luxury cars lined the entrance of Edenbridge Academy, all dropping off students for the new semester. “Miss Hazel, let me.” Before Uncle Ben could open the door for me, I stopped him from the back seat. “It’s okay, Ben. I’ve got it.” I smiled at him and stepped out of the Bentley. I walked over to Spencer Davenport and intentionally linked my arm through his. Catching his slightly surprised gaze, I raised an eyebrow: “What is it, Spencer? Why are you looking at me like that?” For just two seconds, his handsome face returned to its usual cool composure. He let me hold his arm. “Nothing.” Many freshmen around us turned to look at us, whispering to each other: “Oh my god, who is that guy? He is exactly my type.” “Quick, quick! Give me three minutes, I need all his details.” “Who’s the girl next to him? Is that his girlfriend? Ugh, I think I just went through a breakup.” “It’s probably his sister, right? Didn’t she just call him her brother?” … Spencer’s status was too high-profile. On the very first day, all his information was dug up by the students. By association, I became the queen of gossip. Right after the first period, my desk mate, Zoe Parker, couldn’t suppress her burning gossip soul and eagerly asked for confirmation: “Hazel, are you and Spencer actual biological siblings?” “Nope,” I shook my head, answering honestly. “I’m adopted.” She instantly got excited: “Wow! What kind of cosmic lottery did you win to get adopted by the school board director’s family?! Do they need more kids? I want to be adopted too!” I found her hilarious: “Sure, I’ll ask my mom when I get home tonight.” “If the board director’s family doesn’t need more kids, ask your brother if he needs a girlfriend. I can pull off any vibe—boss babe, cute, girl-next-door. You name it, I can do it.” Stars were practically popping out of Zoe’s eyes. “No problem.” “Also, also! If your second brother doesn’t like my vibe, can you ask your oldest brother for me? Seriously, I’ve had a crush on him forever. Like, since my past life. Please, give me a chance to be your sister-in-law!” … Girl, don’t you think you’re being a little too greedy? 9 Before I knew it, it was afternoon. Almost all the girls in the class had familiarized themselves with me. Several people had already asked if they could eat lunch with me. I hadn’t realized making friends could be this easy. Even though I hadn’t done anything, they treated me like the center of attention. At lunch, the seats on my left, right, and across from me were all taken. It was obvious that these girls came from incredibly wealthy families. A random watch on any of their wrists probably cost as much as a semester’s tuition at Edenbridge. Even Zoe, who kept loudly wishing to be adopted by Mrs. Davenport, was actually the only daughter of the CEO of Oceanic Group, a company worth billions. Right now, Miss Zoe was trying every trick in the book to ask me about Ethan Davenport. “Hazel Sinclair.” An abrupt and unexpected voice sounded near my ear. I looked up and met Mia’s incredibly confused face. She was walking side-by-side with a girl with short hair, holding a lunch tray. They were probably looking for seats. “Hi, what a coincidence.” I gave a half-hearted greeting and immediately turned back to Zoe to continue our conversation. Mia didn’t leave. She stared at me with a bizarre expression. She seemed unable to process the situation, her brows furrowing slightly: “What are you doing here?” That was a hilarious question. I had to look up again to answer her: “Eating lunch, obviously. What does it look like?” Mia scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain: “Don’t tell me you actually go to school here.” The mockery in her voice was so obvious that people started looking at her weirdly. “Who are you?” Zoe asked, looking displeased. Mia stood up straighter: “Who are you?” “Why do you care who I am? Do you have any manners? Can’t you see we’re talking?” “You…” Mia was about to fire back, but the short-haired girl next to her pulled her back and subtly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Miss Parker. We didn’t mean to interrupt.” The short-haired girl was clearly intimidated by Zoe. She apologized sincerely and quickly dragged Mia away. The two of them sat down very far away. Mia’s eyes were dark, and her gaze kept flicking back to me. 10 After school, I was waiting for Spencer in the second-floor hallway. Mia, acting like she had been lying in wait, grabbed me and pulled me into the stairwell. “Hazel, what the hell is going on?” I turned off my phone screen, my tone lazy: “What?” She looked at me with an expression of pure absurdity and disbelief: “Since when did you become the school board director’s daughter?!” “Does that have a single cent to do with you?” I didn’t want to deal with her. I turned to leave, but she yanked me back. A cold smirk appeared on Mia’s lips: “Don’t you want to see what kind of expression Mom and Dad would have if they found out you became the school board director’s daughter?” “Who cares about their expressions? I cut ties with your family a long time ago.” I shrugged casually, adding, “I learned that trick from you, actually. Other people’s parents just smell sweeter.” Mia choked on my comeback. A sharp, fierce emotion flashed in her pupils. I didn’t linger. I waved at her and walked away effortlessly. 11 When Spencer and I walked out of the school gates, Uncle Ben’s car was already parked by the curb. “Miss Hazel, your boba tea.” Before opening the door, Uncle Ben handed me a still-warm cup of boba from the cup holder. I had only casually mentioned that morning that the new boba place at the corner was really good. I didn’t expect him to take it to heart. “Thank you, Ben,” I smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome.” Remembering something, I turned and asked: “Spencer, do you want to try some? It’s really good.” Spencer, who was suddenly cued for no reason, looked at the boba in my hand with absolute resistance: “No.” “Just a sip?” He shook his head firmly. Fine, whatever. As the car passed the next intersection, I felt a bit stuffy and rolled down the window. When I turned my head, I saw Mia and Liam standing at a bus stop. The two of them were waiting for the bus. My dad… well, Robert Sinclair hadn’t been making a small amount of money these past couple of years, but the family had just bought a massive new mansion, and the tuition for Mia and Liam was astronomical. Between the mortgage and the tuition, his financial burden wasn’t small. I guess they definitely didn’t have the spare cash to hire a driver, so his precious son and daughter had to suffer the indignity of taking the public bus. Mia saw me in the car. Her expression shifted, her eyes glaring intensely, her hands balling into fists. Liam looked utterly shocked, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, and yelled my name: “Hazel Sinclair!” Talk about bad luck. I rolled my eyes at them and rolled up the window without hesitation. The light turned green, and the car sped away.

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After Elliot betrayed me, our marriage dragged on for another six years. During that time, we even had a son. Just when everyone thought we were heading toward a happy, stable life, I filed for divorce. He looked at me in utter disbelief. “We’ve been doing so well! What are you throwing a tantrum for?!” I raised an eyebrow. “Doing well? Where did you get that illusion?” Then, I pulled out our asset portfolio. “In these six years, I’ve doubled our net worth to 6 billion dollars. After the divorce, whether we keep it as a partnership in shares or cash out is entirely up to you.” 01 Over these six years, I’m not saying I never tried to genuinely move on. Especially after Liam was born. It’s a pity that the battle six years ago was just too unforgettable. Elliot slept with a business partner’s secretary after a drunken night. The girl showed up pregnant, demanding my place. The company’s stock plunged, evaporating 200 million dollars overnight. In just three days, I accompanied Elliot to public events as if nothing had happened, throwing my full support behind him and weathering the storm hand-in-hand. The public praised my magnanimity, rationality, and foresight, though some mocked the bitter reality of being a billionaire’s wife. I just smiled and never responded. But no matter how perfectly Elliot played the devoted family man afterward, I could easily see through his warmth and lies. I could never drown in them again. A year ago, his college goddess, Audrey, went through a messy divorce and quietly returned to New York with her six-year-old daughter. He then started living a double life. Liam was lucky to see his dad once a week. The truth is, Elliot had plenty of time. He was a man with an extreme gift for investment, once dubbed the “Man Who Could Predict the Market.” Before he hit thirty, he had amassed enough wealth to retire. At his peak, he gracefully stepped down from his last board position, becoming a highly independent angel investor. I could only tell Liam that Daddy was very busy, and Liam would nod innocently. Elliot was indeed very busy. Busy touring penthouses with Audrey, buying her a house, backing her up, and finding a prep school for her six-year-old. Worried the little girl might feel slighted, he donated millions to build a new library for the school. His private legal team was deployed the second Audrey’s plane landed, helping her fight her ex-husband for her assets. Audrey, who should have been keeping a low profile after a downfall, was thrust into the spotlight as Manhattan’s most talked-about woman, all because Elliot stood up for her. Times had changed. Elliot, now semi-retired, no longer had to worry that his scandals would tank the stock market. He was enjoying the most reckless, self-indulgent phase of his life. Honestly, for a couple worth billions like us, the word “divorce” isn’t thrown around lightly. So, Elliot froze for a second. “Are you jealous of Audrey?” That tone of disbelief, as if I were being completely unreasonable. “She’s in trouble, and I have the power to help. You know how rare college bonds are; we aren’t hurting for this little bit of money. You’ve been with me for so many years, don’t you have a bigger picture than this?” “That love letter in the safe,” I interrupted. Over the years, we were spouses, but also mentor and mentee. Elliot always liked to critique me from a pedestal. If I didn’t puncture his ego right away, he would undoubtedly use the excuse of “helping an old classmate” to take the moral high ground and tear me down. “You opened the safe?” I reminded him calmly, “On the day of Liam’s one-month milestone, you were feeling appreciative of my hard work and told me to open the safe to get the company seal for you.” That was also the time Elliot took 5 million from his pre-marital assets and merged it into our joint accounts, which became my first bucket of gold to enter the venture capital circle. He seemed to just remember, looking a bit flustered. “That was just something from when we were young! If there was really something going on with her, why would I make such a public spectacle of it!” Toward the end, his confidence returned. “We weren’t even together back then, and now that we both have kids, it’s even more impossible. Stop looking for trouble where there is none.” I was sick to death of his condescension and disregard. “Elliot, you don’t need to explain anything to me. Think about how you’re going to explain this to Liam.” “What did you tell him?” he asked warily. I laughed. “Do I need to say anything? In the past year, Liam was hospitalized once for pneumonia, had the flu three times, got hurt at school once, and was bullied for six months. As his father, have you shown up even once?” A flash of guilt crossed Elliot’s eyes. It took a long time before he said, “You’ve always handled Liam’s affairs. If something was difficult, you should have proactively told me.” “Yes, that is how it’s been all these years.” I looked at him. “Liam and I have never complained. But did you know Liam transferred to St. Jude’s half a year ago?” Elliot didn’t speak for a long time. I let out a scoff: “Liam always believed you were just very busy. But you let him see with his own eyes how you ran around for a little girl named Mia. “He heard Mia telling the teachers and classmates that her dad is Elliot Vance, a billionaire who could buy half of Manhattan, and that her family donated the library. “Liam refused to accept that and argued with Mia, but no one believed he was Elliot Vance’s son because Elliot Vance never picked him up or dropped him off at school. In the end, Liam was psychologically bullied and isolated. “In a child’s world, a father is enough to make or break them.” Elliot was furious. “Don’t you have a mouth? Why didn’t you tell them!” “You built your wealth from scratch; I believed Liam was just as strong. In the school registry, you explicitly instructed not to use your name to keep Liam from becoming spoiled.” He was speechless, frustratedly running his hands through his hair and pacing around with his hands on his hips. “Then you should have told me directly! Why didn’t you tell me Liam transferred schools!” “Did I not? I told you Liam was about to move up to St. Jude’s Lower School, and I wanted to transfer him to the advanced class half a year early to adapt to the environment. You just replied ‘okay’ and hung up.” I paused. “Later, I only found out from the news that when Mia was picked up by a stranger that day, you backed Audrey up and aggressively went to the Carter family to demand answers.” Elliot glared at me indignantly, then slumped down in defeat. After a long time, he said exhaustedly, “Sloane, you clearly had a way to handle this, but you let me lose face in front of Liam.” I closed my eyes, turned around. “Yes, I should have taken our marriage certificate and Liam’s birth certificate to the principal right then, and demanded a school-wide assembly to prove that Liam is your son.” 02 My negotiation with Elliot that day, although ending on a sour note, successfully made him feel guilty. The divorce was now officially on the agenda. Affection cannot withstand the grind of time, nor is it suited for repeated exploitation; a man’s guilt must be used strategically. So, I left Liam behind, moved out on my own, and stopped questioning or bothering him. Elliot didn’t try to stop me; he thought I was just throwing a tantrum. According to the nanny, he dropped all his external affairs to stay with Liam full-time, swearing to make up for years of absence all at once. Before going to bed, Liam secretly called me: “Mom, that arrogant Mia cried and apologized to me today. I accepted it.” I nodded and listened; the little guy was very eager to talk. “Mia’s mom is very pretty and gentle. She told me to call her Auntie Audrey.” “Do you like her?” Liam thought for a moment. “She smiles a lot like you, Mom. But I still don’t really like her.” “Then you don’t have to like her. You never have to force yourself.” He would eventually know he had the right to do so. With the documents prepared, I invited Tori out for drinks. “Wow, did you finally make a move? Audrey hasn’t been causing trouble for me lately; I see she’s busy sucking up to your Elliot.” Tori was Elliot’s private attorney, especially skilled in divorce law. For the past year, she had been at Audrey’s beck and call. Tori and I had been best friends since college, though few people knew that. Hearing I wanted a divorce, she jumped up in shock: “Are you crazy? You didn’t divorce him six years ago when you had no ties and no kids, but now that your position as Mrs. Vance is secure, you want out?!” I lit a cigarette, looked down, and smiled wryly. “What would I have gotten if I divorced him back then?” Tori had witnessed my struggles during that time. When the mistress called to force my hand, I was driving. I had just found out I was three months pregnant, and a moment of distraction nearly cost me two lives. In the three days after the D&C procedure, everyone urged me to divorce him. I was still young, beautiful, and known as a top-tier scholar in New York. Among my suitors, Elliot was never the most outstanding. Without him, I had a bright future. Back then, Elliot had just made a name for himself in the investment world. Coming from a poor background, he stood out like an uncultured nouveau riche among the upper-class elites. My mom always used to say: “Besides giving you a title, he’s inferior to others in every way.” I was so angry I kicked her out. “If you don’t have self-respect, I do!” Elliot was the man I chose, and I didn’t regret it. I trusted my judgment. I wouldn’t let myself bow out so pathetically. From the moment I helped him stabilize the stock market and forgave his infidelity, he was no longer my husband, but my business partner. “A settlement of five million? Ten million? It all depended on his conscience.” Elliot’s prenuptial agreement was airtight. Tori clicked her tongue. “Wouldn’t that have been enough?” I replied, “Of course not. With Elliot’s capabilities, what is that little amount?” Tori sighed. “True, Elliot’s vision has been terrifyingly sharp these past few years. His assets are beyond your imagination.” She shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, I can’t tell you the exact numbers.” “Anyway, I advise you, don’t get this divorce. Keep the wealth in the family. You endured it six years ago, there’s no need to throw a fit now.” I smiled noncommittally and shook my head. Selling low and starting over from scratch—that’s throwing a fit. Cashing out at the peak and walking away loaded—calling that a fit is just being greedy. Finally, Tori looked at my investment reports and asset portfolio from recent years and gasped: “6 billion. My god, what a rush! But what about Liam? If you planned this so early, you shouldn’t have had him.” I lowered my eyes, my thumb gently tracing the edge of the table. “My life has had no accidents, and neither is Liam. Otherwise, how could Elliot trust me so much?” With Elliot’s shrewdness, if it weren’t for Liam, he might have appreciated my magnanimity, but he wouldn’t have treated me as one of his own. I needed more than just his money; I needed his mentorship. And what relationship in this world is closer than blood? Tori was speechless. “Isn’t that too unfair to Liam?” “How could it be? He’s my only child, and Elliot’s too. He will receive all of our love.” Tori pulled her hair. “Elliot too? What do you mean?” “When Liam was three, he got a vasectomy. Irreversible,” I stated. There was no denying that Elliot and I had shared some sweet times, especially before his affair. There were times I looked at Liam’s face and constantly asked myself if I should just let it go and live a normal life. But I could never truly let go of my resentment. I asked Tori, “When he chose to roll in bed with his secretary, with his shrewdness and logic, do you think he didn’t weigh the choice between sleeping with her and losing me?” She looked at me with a complex expression, her lips parting, but she ultimately said nothing. He definitely weighed the options. And that calculation was something I would never forgive for the rest of my life. Tori finally took my divorce case. With two paths branching out, having endured for so long, it was time I finally met Audrey. Late at night, I made a phone call. It rang until the very last second before she picked up. “Sister, want to meet up?” I said. 03 “Sloane, I’m so sorry about what happened with Liam. I never expected Mia to form a clique at school using the library donation.” The mockery in my calling her “Sister” was palpable, but she pretended not to notice, trying to pull off a familiar, friendly tone. It seemed the Jenkins family had truly hit rock bottom; no wonder she was thick-skinned enough to have Liam call her ‘Auntie.’ “Please call me Mrs. Vance. Also, no need to apologize. A million dollars lets you throw your weight around, but Liam and I won’t take it to heart,” I said lightly. “Sloane, do you have to speak to me with such superiority? I am your sister, after all.” She sounded wronged, her voice choking up. “Whether you believe it or not, Elliot and I are completely innocent.” I responded with a cold sneer. “I know you’re bothered that I went on a blind date with Arthur Carter six years ago, but that was an arrangement by the family, and I ultimately didn’t marry him, did I?” She suddenly changed the subject. I sneered. “So six years later, you want to steal my man again, is that it? I’m very grateful for your validation of my taste.” “Sloane, don’t be like this. I know your status as an illegitimate daughter cost you Arthur, but I’ve already convinced Mom and Dad. As long as you’re willing, you can come back and be officially recognized by the family at any time.” “Recognized? The Jenkins family is dreaming! Besides, Miss Jenkins has truly inherited her parents’ traits—feigning innocence while loving to play the other woman. It really is disgusting!” My words grew heated. No one in New York knew that before Robert Adams married my mother, he was involved with Brenda Jenkins. To shave ten years off his struggle, he broke off his engagement to become the live-in son-in-law for the Jenkins family. After securing his position in the Jenkins family, he coaxed my mother into having me. My mother was blinded by love; she stayed unmarried her whole life, willingly acting as his underground lover. Yet she would wake up in the middle of the night full of resentment, feeling the whole world owed her, living her entire life in a state of madness. That was my unbearable background, which I had never mentioned. In fact, I had long forgotten about it, but I didn’t expect Audrey to use it to agitate me! Audrey sobbed through the phone. I found it annoying and was about to hang up when a familiar voice suddenly came through: “Sloane, you’re crossing the line.” “Elliot?!” I parted my lips in surprise. Past midnight, and he was actually by Audrey’s side? Then where was Liam?! “I have no intention of interfering in your family affairs, but you shouldn’t misunderstand Audrey and your father like this. You’re a mother now too; does the goodwill of parents just disgust you?” Elliot sounded displeased. “It’s because of this attitude that you throw the word ‘divorce’ around so casually. I think you need to take a serious lesson in family responsibility.” My voice started trembling. “What gives you the right to interrogate me?” “As a father, and even more so as a husband!” I snapped back, “As a husband, you eavesdrop on your wife’s phone call with your little lover, and then you stand up to speak for her?” “Sloane!” “As a father, you think there are no bad parents in the world, that all parents are kind and merciful?” “Enough!” “As a wife, as a mother, I might not be perfect, but I’m at least a hundred times better than that bastard Robert Adams! As a product of that toxic affair, don’t I even have the right to feel resentful? What gives you the right to demand I forgive them! What gives you the right to play peacemaker!” Knowing this was all intentionally steered by Audrey, I still ended up in a loud argument with Elliot over the phone. We argued about the Jenkins family, the Carter family, and then my ex-boyfriend, Arthur Carter. Elliot stubbornly believed that my demand for a divorce was due to my resentment over my original family’s flaws, and my lingering feelings for Arthur. He wanted me to reconcile with the Jenkins family for my own good. “Elliot, I never knew you had become so self-righteous!” I roared, my voice humiliating and choked with tears, even a bit frantic. I hadn’t lost my composure this much even when his mistress cornered me all those years ago. Elliot finally realized something was wrong, his voice panicking as he hurriedly said, “Wait for me to come back.” My response was to hurl the phone fiercely into the night sky, smashing it with all my might, leaving a trail of debris. Standing numbly in the night wind for a while, my whole body was still trembling from the eye of the storm, yet at the same time, I felt the extreme, cold rationality that follows a frantic outburst. In that moment, a thought surfaced: Fine. Elliot won’t divorce me quietly; this is the perfect breach. Afterward, I quickly drove back. I needed to find Liam. After staying with Liam until he fell asleep, perhaps influenced by Audrey’s words, I actually dreamed of events from six years ago. Back then, I had just graduated from Columbia. With my pure, striking looks and dazzling academic record, many corporations extended offers to me. Just as I was about to accept an offer from the Carter Group, my mother stormed into my apartment, furious: “Isn’t Arthur Carter your boyfriend? Why did your dad say Audrey is dating him! Listen to me, you absolutely cannot let that bitch’s daughter win!” At that time, Arthur and I had been dating under the radar for two years, just one step away from our parents meeting. “Anyone else is fine, but why the Jenkins family? Why do those two women insist on making my life difficult?” My mother wiped away angry tears, then recklessly ranted about old grievances, hating the unfairness of fate, cursing Robert Adams as a scumbag who ruined her life. Her contorted, haggard, and frantic appearance made me frown. But I was also thankful to her. Because a few days later, while I was on a date with Arthur, we ran into Mrs. Carter. The elegant woman was accompanied by two friends. After eyeing me up and down, she said with a half-smile: “I’ve heard of Miss Adams. Arthur mentioned you too. You’re very hardworking and independent. It’s just a pity about your father—” “Enough!” Arthur shielded me behind him, cutting off his mother’s words. When it was just the two of us, he looked slightly exhausted and told me to wait, saying he would handle it. I looked at him steadily for a while, then shook my head. Two years. I had come to understand Arthur somewhat. He was the kind of man whose gentlemanly respect and aloofness were carved into his bones. Despite his prestigious background, he wasn’t arrogant or condescending. Therefore, he never lacked female attention. Anyone who knew him would praise his sincerity and grace. But I knew that after his sincere conversations, he would turn away and forget, leaving no trace behind. His sincerity was like some people’s smiles—just an expression, completely detached from emotion. Two years, the best two years of a woman’s life, ending like this. Naturally, I was unwilling. The beast in my chest was baring its fangs, restless. But then I suddenly thought of my mother, Robert Adams, and Brenda. With Arthur, I was destined to be the casualty of a marriage of convenience. I wasn’t going to bet on it. I closed my eyes again, letting my mother’s self-pitying, frantic, and resentful image play out in my mind for a moment, and my heart suddenly grew calm. Watching others lose their minds is always better than experiencing it yourself. My gaze turned resolute. I, Sloane Adams, would never allow myself to become a weak person who only complains and bares her pain for others to mock, just like her! So, I stepped back, crossed my hands over my stomach, and bowed my head slightly: “Thank you very much for your companionship and help over the past two years. I’ve learned enough from you.” He swayed slightly, his eyes revealing a hint of obscurity: “Sloane, you don’t believe me?” I slowly smiled at him: “Mr. Carter, let’s part on good terms.” Then I nodded lightly, turned, and walked away, drawing the most perfect and dignified period to our relationship. After learning of the breakup, my mother stormed into my apartment again, smashing everything to pieces, cursing my incompetence: “I was hoping to rely on you to turn things around, but you’re nothing! Wasting a perfectly good face! What does it matter how good your grades are? Without a family background, who will look up to you!” After venting, she grabbed me, a strange light in her eyes: “Sloane, even if you can’t be Arthur’s wife, there’s no need to break up. A man like him can’t possibly have only one family—” “Enough, get out!” I finally erupted, pointing at the door and screaming for her to leave. How could there be a mother like this in the world! After that day, I completely cut ties with her until a year later, when Elliot and I got married. She brazenly showed up at the door, forcing a thaw in our relationship. “Aside from the title, how does he compare to Arthur Carter?” she grumbled at me in dissatisfaction. I looked at her coldly: “Do you want to be thrown out by me again?” 04 In the morning, I found Elliot sitting in the living room. He had clearly been up all night; the ashtray was full of cigarette butts. He had come back after dropping Liam off at school. This time, I directly pulled out the divorce papers: “Let’s divorce.” He jerked his head up, his eyes bloodshot. “Sloane, stop being stubborn. Saying ‘divorce’ once is enough.” His voice softened. “We were doing so well. Can we stop this nonsense?” I looked at him coldly. “Doing well? I apologize for giving you that illusion.” “What do you mean? I explained the secretary thing to you long ago; I was set up.” His face instantly paled. “If it’s because of Audrey, there’s even less need. You saw it last night; I only helped her because I know your relationship with the Jenkins family. She is your sister, after all.” I slammed the divorce papers fiercely onto his smug face. “If you really knew, you wouldn’t be spouting such bullshit!” “Elliot, what exactly are you trying to do? Dig up my dark past to whitewash yourself and Audrey?” Because I threw them so hard, the sharp edges of the paper cut several bloody scratches on his face, but he looked at me as if he didn’t feel the pain. After a long while, he finally spoke. “Sloane, the older generation’s affairs have nothing to do with you. Reconciling with the Jenkins family would benefit you. I know you still care about your background and Arthur.” My years of composure completely crumbled at this moment. It took immense effort to control my emotions. “So, is that what Audrey told you? Or is that what you think? Elliot, you’re truly despicable. My background, and Arthur—what does any of that have to do with my divorcing you!” My tears rolled down like a relentless flood. “You promised me. You said you would never let women on the outside hurt me again. But now, not only are you hurting me, you’re hurting Liam! And you not only refuse to admit your mistake, you pretend to be my savior!” Did he really not know? I had spent my entire life trying to distance myself from the Jenkins family. When my mother went crazy and caused a scene, I wished their whole family would just die! What gave him the right to casually step up and say he was helping me get recognized by the family, fulfilling my wish? Elliot’s eyes showed confusion and a hint of panic. “Sloane, if you don’t want to, I can—” I silently picked up the papers scattered on the floor one by one. By the time I gathered them all, I had regained my calm. “There’s no need. Sign it. Do you still remember what you promised me six years ago when I was on the brink of death?” I threw out my final trump card, staring into his eyes, forcing him to recall that day. “I said, Elliot, if one day I find I still can’t let it go, please don’t stop me. Set me free.” Back then, he knelt by my hospital bed, holding my hand, sobbing with regret and self-blame, his tears pooling in my palm. “Sloane, I won’t. I won’t make another mistake. I will definitely treat you well.” He promised me over and over again. The doctor standing by urged us, saying I needed a D&C immediately; blood had already soaked the bed. With a pale face, I stubbornly looked at Elliot, insisting on an answer. “Okay, I promise you. If you ever want to be free.” As soon as he finished speaking, I passed out from the pain. Elliot seemed to suddenly wake up. He hugged me, his voice pleading: “Sloane, don’t do this. I’ll change. I’ll change everything, okay?” I silently refused. After a long time, he finally let me go slowly. Then he stood up, placed his hands on my shoulders, and asked in a deep voice: “Sloane, do we really have to go this far?” I knew Elliot could bow his head to me, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to keep begging relentlessly. “Yes,” I said. His eyes suddenly turned fierce. “Even if I won’t make it easy for you to leave? Even if I might leave you with nothing?” I looked at him calmly, showing no weakness. “Yes.” Elliot tilted his head back, closed his eyes, then roughly threw my hand off and turned his back to me. “I will have the divorce papers redrafted. I want Liam. As for the rest, don’t worry, the result will satisfy you.” “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Vance.” I walked out the door; he didn’t even look back. Tori hurried over to meet me. Seeing my state, she asked in alarm, “What happened? Did you argue? Did you fight? What’s the result?” I pulled out a tissue, wiped away the damp tear tracks, and gently tossed it into a nearby trash can. “It’s done. Let’s go.” I calmly slid into the car. Tori didn’t understand. Negotiating a divorce with a shrewd investor like Elliot, getting emotional was foolish. Rational calculation held no chance of winning either. I was very satisfied with my performance today. “I guess I won’t have to be running errands for Audrey anymore,” Tori said, rubbing her chin. I smiled, looking down. “No need. From here on out, she won’t have time to worry about anything else.”

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My daughter, who married and moved across the country, has been acting a little strange lately. She happily announced she was pregnant, and then happily told me she lost the baby, saying it gave them more time to enjoy being a couple. She happily said she was coming home for Thanksgiving, and then happily canceled, saying she couldn’t bear to be separated from her husband. She always smiled so blissfully. But I noticed something. In the video calls, she sat completely rigid. She never moved from that chair. 1 When my daughter told me she wasn’t coming home for Thanksgiving, she had a look of pure bliss on her face. She said Derek had to work overtime during the holidays and couldn’t get away, and he was being super clingy. She couldn’t bear to leave him alone, so she wouldn’t be coming back to her hometown this year. My son-in-law, Derek Thorne, appeared on the video call, looking like the most honest, dependable guy in the world, and apologized to me. I smiled. “You young people have your careers. Mom understands.” I smiled as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Derek instantly let out a long sigh of relief. What he didn’t know was that my palms were completely slick with sweat. In the video, my daughter looked radiant. Beautiful clothes, flawless makeup—everything screamed that she had a loving husband backing her up. But I saw it. My energetic, lively daughter didn’t move a single muscle in her legs for the entire duration of the call. 2 When I said I was going to fly out to Seattle, my son Nate laughed. “Mom, are you worried Derek isn’t treating my sister right?” “Every man in the world could be a bad guy, but not Derek.” I couldn’t blame Nate for thinking that. Derek’s appearance was incredibly deceiving. He looked like the salt of the earth. Back then, when my daughter graduated from college and said she wanted to marry him and move all the way to Seattle, I was strictly against it. But Derek cried, tears streaming down his face, and dropped to his knees in front of me twice, begging for my blessing. That actually made me even more terrified to let her marry him. A man who will drop to his knees that easily to get what he wants? If he ever turns cruel, he’ll be more ruthless than a normal person. My daughter was the soft, precious little treasure I had held in the palm of my hand her entire life. If she suffered miles away where I couldn’t see her, what could I do? But my daughter was completely blinded by his dramatic display. She swore she wouldn’t marry anyone else. She said, “Mom, I promise I’ll be happy. All I need is your blessing.” She had been married and living over there for almost a year now. She constantly told me how happy she was. 3 Nate was still laughing at me for worrying too much. I said, “I just miss your sister. She lost the baby, and she wouldn’t even let me fly out to see her.” Nate scratched his head. “That’s true. We haven’t seen her in a long time. No one’s been around for me to bicker with. Let’s go together.” Nate was an abandoned baby my daughter had found and brought home, so his bond with his older sister was exceptionally strong. We didn’t tell my daughter we were coming to Seattle. Nate and I booked a hotel right next to her luxury condo building. Early the next morning, I bundled up in a heavy coat and sat on a bench outside her building. During the morning commute rush, my daughter didn’t appear. Derek left alone. During the evening rush hour, my daughter still didn’t appear. Derek returned alone. I texted her: What are you up to? She replied saying work was exhausting today, so Derek was treating her to a steak dinner at home. She said she couldn’t chat long. I just sat on that bench. I had imagined a million horrifying scenarios, but nothing could compare to the bone-chilling reality of the next moment. A sudden, explosive roar echoed from the balcony above: “You worthless bitch! Which guy are you thinking about today?!” Two neighbors walking past looked up, stopped in their tracks, and started whispering. From the looks of it, they were used to this. They probably heard it all the time. “The guy on the second floor is screaming at his wife again?” “Tsk, tsk. It’s so pathetic. Such a sweet, pretty girl, and she gets psychologically tortured every single day.” “I heard they locked her in that room for weeks. I wonder if they finally let her out.” I tried desperately to control my trembling lips as I approached them. “Locked her up? That severe? Why hasn’t anyone called the cops?” “Who would dare? That guy said if she ever tried to call for help, he’d destroy her whole family. His dad is some big-shot politician or businessman with serious connections. No one wants to cross them.” “Does the girl not fight back?” “She tried, but it only made it worse. She tried to run away once, and they stressed her out so badly she ended up miscarrying the baby.” “The poor thing doesn’t have any family nearby. Her husband’s whole family is absolute garbage. The old and the young, they all gang up on her.” “Why do they bully her?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Ugh, I heard the father-in-law made inappropriate advances on her, and she refused him.” “When the mother-in-law and the husband found out, the father-in-law spun the story and claimed she was the one trying to seduce him.” “Now the whole family locks her up and treats her like a prisoner.” The neighbor spoke without hesitation, carrying a tone of righteous anger. I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Listening to the vile, unspeakable curses raining down from the floor above, I dialed my daughter’s number. My precious girl. Mommy is here to save you. Every ounce of torment you’ve endured, I will repay them a hundredfold! 4 Upstairs, the man’s roaring continued. Then, my daughter, who hadn’t made a sound, suddenly burst into tears. “It’s my mom calling! Let me answer it before you keep yelling!” “Don’t make her suspicious.” “What does it matter if she’s suspicious? She’s a weak old woman, what the hell is she going to do?” “You filthy bitch. I bet you and your mother both worked the streets, didn’t you?” Every single word. I heard it loud and clear. Every single word came from the mouth of the man who looked so honest and dependable. The moment the call connected, I desperately wanted to ask my sweet girl if she was hurting. But through the receiver, my daughter forced a laugh. “Mom! Why are you calling?” “If you need something, say it quick. Derek is cutting my steak for me.” I gritted my teeth. “Good! Enjoy your meal, sweetie.” Derek’s voice suddenly chimed in. “Mom? Your voice sounds a little weird. Are you okay?” I said, “I just miss my Sophie.” Derek replied smoothly, “Mom, I’m so sorry. As soon as this big project is over, Sophie and I will fly back to see you.” He was trying to pacify me. Which meant he still knew fear. His family had money and status. Even though they looked down on my lack of wealth and power deep down, I hadn’t done anything to lose my dignity as a mother-in-law, so he didn’t dare drop the facade completely. I pretended I didn’t know a thing. I sighed and said, “As long as you’re good to Sophie, I can rest easy.” “Unlike Sophie’s father.” “Domestic violence, cheating, always mocking me for being a weak woman who couldn’t do anything about it.” “I didn’t want Sophie to grow up without a dad, so I kept enduring it. I endured it for years.” “But in the end, I just couldn’t hold back anymore.” Derek stuttered, “C-couldn’t… couldn’t hold back?” “W-what… what do you mean?” “Did you kill Sophie’s dad?” I let out a low, eerie chuckle. “When you’re pushed past your breaking point, you snap.” “I was so angry I grabbed a kitchen knife. I cut off his lower half first, then his dominant hand.” “He always acted so tough and terrifying, but in the end, he was lying at my feet like a headless, dead dog.” “T-then… how come… you… you aren’t in prison?” Derek was trembling so badly he could barely string a sentence together. Coward! Are you scared already? I said casually, “Oh, I was diagnosed with temporary insanity. Intermittent explosive disorder.” “Triggered by his abuse. I didn’t have to face any criminal liability.” “But don’t worry, Mom is completely cured now.” “G-good… that’s good. Cured is good. Uh, Mom, I have to hang up now. Sophie is eager to eat her steak.” I smiled. “Okay! Her dad used to love cutting steak for me too. But his knife skills… they were never as good as mine.” Upstairs, the apartment finally went dead silent. 5 It started snowing. My sweet girl, at least on this snowy night, you won’t have to endure their screaming, right? I sat on that bench until the early hours of the morning. My heart ached more than it ever had in my life, and I hated myself more than I ever had. When my daughter left, I was so angry I had said harsh words: “If you end up miserable, don’t come crying to me.” Oh, my sweet girl… did you really think you couldn’t come to Mommy? Didn’t you know that in this world, your life is more important to me than my own? Back then, when I found out I could never have children, I lost all hope. I thought I would just sleepwalk through the rest of my life. Until I met you. You were so tiny, wrapped in a thin blanket, braving the freezing wind in that dark Chicago alleyway, and you smiled at me. You were the brightest ray of sunshine in my life. And someone dared to humiliate and break you? Then they truly deserved to die. Nate found me. He asked why I wouldn’t let him contact his sister and brother-in-law, and why I didn’t go back to the hotel. I looked at him and said, “Nate, if anything ever happens to Mom, you remember to protect your sister, okay?” “Do you remember when your sister grabbed a baseball bat and fought off a group of guys just to protect you?” “It wasn’t because she wasn’t scared. It was because she loved you more.” “Mom, you know how fierce my sister is. Who would dare bully her? She’s the one protecting me.” I sighed. “She married far away from home. She lost her foundation.” “And you and I are her weaknesses.” “When people hold your weaknesses hostage, you lose your courage.” Nate looked at me, questioning. I said, “Let’s head back.” Back at the hotel, I took a long, hot shower. I knew that this would be the last moment in my life where my hands were completely clean. 6 Early the next morning, I went back to my daughter’s building. The freezing wind howled. Heavy snow fell. The world was a blinding expanse of white. I remembered the first time my daughter saw snow. She was so excited she jumped and laughed. She rolled around in the snow and said she wanted to move to a place where it snowed all the time when she grew up. She got her wish. But I regretted so deeply that I never warned her: the thicker and more beautiful the snow, the more it hides the filthy, rotting garbage underneath. The more pristine the snow falls, the more disgusting the grime beneath it becomes. She was too kind. I couldn’t bear to tell her about the absolute evil in this world. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet. It was the coldest part of the winter morning. My daughter’s parents-in-law arrived. They hurried upstairs. Beneath their well-groomed, wealthy exteriors lay an unmistakable, sinister malice. Moments later, furious screaming erupted from the floor above. “You cheap bitch! You little slut!” “You’re the daughter of a murderer, and you’re trying to act pure and innocent?!” That was Mr. Thorne’s voice. “How dare you lie to me! You daughter of a psycho! You mental case!” That was Derek’s voice. “I knew she was no good from the start! You two were just blinded by a pretty face!” That was Mrs. Thorne’s voice. But these were the exact same people who, a year ago, traveled thousands of miles to my home to ask for my daughter’s hand in marriage. They were so polite, so refined, exuding nothing but excellent upbringing. His mother had held my hand gently and said, “Sophie’s Mom, I don’t have a daughter. I’ve always wanted a sweet girl of my own.” “I will treat Sophie exactly like she’s my own flesh and blood.” “If Derek ever dares to bully her, I’ll be the first one to teach him a lesson.” I had replied coldly, “What kind of lesson?” Their entire family froze. They clearly hadn’t expected me to ask that, nor had they ever thought about actually punishing their precious son. But I just waited quietly for their answer. After a long pause, his mother said that if her son did wrong, I could hit him or curse him however I pleased. I smiled and said, “I’d strip him of everything and make sure his bloodline ends with him.” In their minds, it was just a tough-sounding joke. But in my heart, it was a solemn vow. So, my sweet girl, my little Sophie, remember to lean on Mommy. Mommy will always, always protect you. 7 The upstairs apartment was a cacophony of noise. Two neighbors walking out to buy coffee looked up, shook their heads, and kept walking. It was clear they were entirely used to this. My sweet girl, my little Sophie, how much torture have you endured? So much that the neighbors treat your suffering as background noise? How did you manage to still smile for me on camera? When you tried to escape from the second floor, were you trying to die, or just trying to run? When you lost the baby, how much did it hurt? Thinking back to the joy on your face when you told me you were pregnant… did you think the baby would be your ticket out of the abuse? Yesterday, a neighbor told me that when the poor girl on the second floor first got pregnant, her husband treated her a little better. But after her father-in-law came over to deliver some groceries, her husband started screaming at her again. And he got even more vicious. Escalating the psychological torment. This was a high-end luxury condo. The residents all looked civilized. But almost the entire building had heard him roaring: “You filthy bitch! Whose bastard is in your stomach? Is it my son, or my fucking brother?!” A neighbor who couldn’t stand it anymore had called in an anonymous tip to the police. But when the cops arrived, the poor young wife was too terrified to say a single word. It was obvious the poor girl had been completely brainwashed and manipulated by her husband’s family. Upstairs, the sound of cursing mixed with the sharp, piercing crash of breaking glass. My heart hurt! It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. I stared blankly at that window, thinking: Good. Good! What a wonderful family! “I’ll do a good deed and ensure your whole family is neatly and permanently packed together before the New Year.” 8 From beginning to end, my sweet girl didn’t make a single sound. I desperately wanted to hold her right now and ask if she was scared. But it was a little too early. The flight to Chicago still had some time before boarding. Don’t be afraid, my sweet daughter. Just endure it a little longer. Mommy’s New Year’s gift to them is about to arrive. I saw the delivery guy heading upstairs. … They must have received it, because the cursing abruptly stopped. Then, screams of absolute terror erupted from upstairs. The sound was music to my ears. Scream all you want. Because you won’t have many more chances to scream in the future. 9 I took out my phone and dialed my daughter’s number. I asked casually, “Sophie, Mom sent you a taxidermy dog head.” “Look closely at that dog head. Look familiar?” “It’s the vicious dog that bit you when you were in high school.” “Letting it live this long was a mistake on my part.” “It’s the holidays. A vicious dog like that doesn’t deserve to see the New Year, so I butchered it.” “Dog meat is actually considered a delicacy in some places.” “Good things shouldn’t be kept just for your husband.” “Make sure to show your respect and serve it to your father-in-law and mother-in-law.” I knew their whole family would definitely have the phone on speaker, so my voice was completely flat and calm. For the first time, I heard my sweet girl’s voice: “Mom, thank you! Also… don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Do not come here!” I said a simple, “Okay!” and calmly hung up the phone. My daughter knew I was coming. Her kind heart was still worried about me, subtly warning me to stay away. She probably guessed I was coming the moment I brought up her “father.” She was an abandoned child I adopted. There was never a father in her life. Our family of three had fought with everything we had for so many years just to live a decent life. And now, the Thorne family had ruined it all in less than a year. The snow fell gracefully. I sat on the bench, quietly extending my hand. A snowflake melted silently in my palm, as if it had never existed. There are some people in this world who simply do not deserve to exist. 10 A short while later, the Thorne family of three hurried out of the building, clutching their briefcases, clearly rushing to work. Their faces were pale, their expressions a mix of terror and grim tension. I glanced at my watch. The flight to Chicago was in two hours. I waited for another full hour before heading upstairs. I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. I knew my daughter was inside. I called her phone again. Surprisingly, Derek answered. He feigned surprise: “Mom, I accidentally brought Sophie’s phone with me to work.” I said, “That’s fine, it’s nothing urgent. I just forgot to tell her you shouldn’t drink tea if you eat dog meat.” Derek said, “Got it, Mom. I’ll let her know later.” I hung up the phone, my heart burning with anxiety. They were going to extreme lengths to prevent my daughter from contacting me alone. Her situation must be even worse than I imagined. I had Nate pay top dollar for a professional locksmith. The kind who could crack a lock in under a minute. Because from a distance, I had spotted a security camera installed outside my daughter’s door. It would take the Thorne family at least thirty minutes to rush back from their offices. Which meant I had a maximum of thirty minutes to get my daughter out.

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The campus “It-Girl” was caught cheating on her finals. On the verge of a mental breakdown, she came to me for a private counseling session. I spent an entire day talking her down from the ledge. She begged me to keep her suicidal thoughts a secret. I agreed. The next morning, she was standing on the roof of the library, preparing to jump in front of a crowd of hundreds. After she was “saved,” the university launched an investigation to find a scapegoat. They set their sights on me—the campus psychologist. “You knew a student had suicidal ideations. Why didn’t you report it to the administration immediately?” I asked the girl to explain our confidentiality agreement. Instead, she looked at the board with a face full of shattered innocence: “When did I ever ask Dr. Sterling to keep that a secret?” “If the doctor had just told my advisor or my parents about my state of mind, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so hopeless.” In an instant, the world branded me a negligent hack who nearly killed a star student. Even my fiancé called me cold-blooded and heartless. My reputation was destroyed. In a fit of despair, I jumped from that same building. Only after I died did I learn the truth: She never wanted to die. She used the “suicide attempt” as a PR stunt to wash away the stain of her cheating scandal. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she came to my office. She was pleading: “Doctor, about my plan to jump… can you keep it a secret for me?” 01 “Doctor, I was caught cheating on my finals. One of the girls in the hall saw me,” Madison Vance said, sitting across from me with a face of deep repentance. “Now my grade is voided. I’ve lost my graduate fellowship, and everyone is gossiping behind my back.” “What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to live anymore. The library building has twenty floors, right? If I jump, do you think the pain will finally end?” A normal psychologist hearing a student say this would immediately sound the alarm, using every gentle word in the book to talk them back to safety. But I, a board-certified Senior Clinical Psychologist, simply sat there and looked at her with cold eyes. I didn’t offer a single word of comfort. Madison squeezed out a few tears. Seeing my silence, she looked confused. “Doctor? Why aren’t you saying anything?” “The other students said you’re the best counselor at Oakridge University. That’s why I came to you to open up.” “You just said you wanted to jump?” I asked. My office window looked directly at the twenty-story library she had mentioned. “Do you know what a body looks like after falling from that height?” I asked flatly. “You’d look like a crushed meatloaf.” I slammed my palms together with a sharp thwack. “Bones shattered, organs collapsed, your face flattened and distorted beyond recognition by the sheer force of the impact.” I leaned forward, bringing my face inches from Madison’s, staring at her with a chilling intensity. “Blood would fill your nose and mouth. Your eyes would pop from their sockets, mixing with grey matter on the concrete.” “Ah!” Madison shrieked. “Doctor, what is wrong with you? How could you know what a jumper looks like?” “Because…” In my past life, that’s exactly how I died. 02 My name is Claire Sterling. I was indeed considered the best psychologist at Oakridge. In my private practice, I charge five hundred dollars an hour. But for the students at Oakridge, I provided my services for free. Because of that, many students saw me as their closest confidante. I never maintained any guard against these kids who usually looked so “bright and innocent.” In my previous life, Madison Vance came to me just like this. She was the “Campus Queen” of the Drama Department. She had been caught with a cheat sheet during her theater theory final. The girl in the desk next to her reported her on the spot. The proctor confiscated the exam. Her grade was an automatic F. What made it fatal was that Madison was already a rising star, a minor celebrity with a decent following on social media. The news of her cheating spread like wildfire. Threads on Reddit and the university’s Discord were already blowing up. Faced with a career-ending scandal, Madison “collapsed” and found her way to my office. That day, I listened to her for hours. I spent the entire day de-escalating her. Only when she seemed stable and optimistic did I finally breathe a sigh of relief. Before leaving, she turned to me. “Dr. Sterling, I’ve moved past it. But about the things I said… about wanting to jump… please, keep that between us.” The first duty of a therapist is to respect patient privacy. However, university counseling centers have an unwritten “Safety Protocol”: If a student shows signs of severe depression or suicidal intent, the school and parents must be notified. The rule is essentially a liability waiver for the university: We did our part; if the kid dies, it’s not on us. But from a clinical perspective, this rule is often counter-productive to building trust. While I was hesitating, Madison begged me. “If people find out I was here, the cheating scandal will get even bigger. I’ll be ‘canceled’ before I even graduate!” “Dr. Sterling, please. Don’t tell my advisor. Don’t tell my parents. I’m begging you!” She acted so humble and broken that I truly believed she was remorseful. I promised her. “I’ll keep your secret. I just hope you move forward. We all make mistakes. It’s just one final exam; it doesn’t define your entire life.” Madison thanked me repeatedly. She said she was ready to face the music and would retake the class next semester. I thought the matter was settled. I didn’t expect to be woken up at 5:00 AM the next morning by a frantic call from the Dean. “A student is on the roof of the library! Get down here right now!” 03 Madison had been standing on the edge of the twentieth floor all night. She was finally spotted by a janitor at dawn. Hundreds of students gathered below. Deans, board members, and campus police were all on-site. The fire department arrived with mats and ladders. Madison screamed two things from the roof: “I didn’t cheat! The girl in the hall framed me!” “What do I have to do to make you believe me?!” She made a move as if to jump, but her hands were white-knuckled, gripping the safety railing with everything she had. The firefighters rushed her and brought her down safely. Almost instantly, the news of Madison Vance’s “suicide attempt” hit the trending page of TikTok and X. #JusticeForMadisonVance #MadisonCheatingScandalFramed #OakridgeRoofIncident These tags completely drowned out the original cheating discussion. Overnight, fans were heartbroken and the public was shocked. People lamented that Madison was a “tragic white lily,” nearly killed by a classmate’s malicious lie. The university’s official social media pages were swarmed by her fans. They demanded the expulsion of the whistleblower. They demanded the university issue a formal, stamped document clearing Madison of all cheating allegations. Under immense pressure, the university started looking for someone to blame. They found me. “Madison visited your office the day she went to the roof. Why didn’t you report her mental state? Why weren’t her parents notified immediately?” I was speechless. I went to Madison, asking her to tell them that she had requested confidentiality. In front of the university board, Madison looked at me with a face of shattered innocence. “When did I ever ask Dr. Sterling to keep that a secret?” 04 “I did visit Dr. Sterling, but her advice was very unprofessional. She actually encouraged me to ‘confess’ to the cheating I didn’t do!” Madison looked me in the eye. “Doctor, why would you lie about that?” “Dr. Sterling isn’t fit to be a psychologist. If she had just told my advisor or my parents about my state of mind, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone.” “The wind on that roof was so cold. If you weren’t truly hopeless, who would want to stand there all night?” Madison wrapped her arms around herself, looking helpless. She truly lived up to her reputation as a “fragile” actress. With that one move, every man in the room—including the board members—felt their hearts break for her. My fiancé, Marcus Thorne, who had accompanied me to the hearing, looked at me with a look of pure disgust. He actually took off his coat and draped it over Madison’s shoulders. That day, I was found guilty of professional negligence. I was fired and my license was suspended. Madison’s parents sued me for “intentional infliction of emotional distress,” demanding half a million dollars. Her fans doxxed my personal information. They sent dead animals to my doorstep. They left voicemails telling me to go kill myself. My parents were harassed into a state of physical collapse. In my most desperate hour, Marcus called me a cold-blooded monster. He turned around and texted Madison, telling her how much he “ached” for her. One month later, I stood on that same library roof. Madison was a liar. When a person is truly, fundamentally broken and ready to die, they don’t feel the cold wind. The cold inside is far worse than anything the sky can offer. I was a psychologist, but I couldn’t heal myself. I jumped from the twentieth floor. There was no crowd of students, no deans, and no firefighters. I hit the concrete. My body shattered. It was ugly. It was final. My spirit didn’t move on immediately. I watched the university hush the whole thing up after my death. A few students I had helped in the past tried to leave flowers where I fell. The security guards rudely tossed them into the trash. Madison came by with flowers too. She made sure the local news cameras were there. “Even though Dr. Sterling wasn’t a good teacher or a good person, I have forgiven her for her mistakes,” she told the reporter. The tabloids ate it up, praising Madison for her “unparalleled kindness” in forgiving the “unethical doctor.” After the cameras left, I heard Madison’s agent laughing with her. “Using a suicide stunt to cover the cheating was genius. The focus shifted to ‘celebrity bullied by university,’ and then we shifted the blame to the counselor. At this point, who cares if you cheated or not?” “The PR pressure will force the school to wipe your record clean. It’s the perfect white-wash.” “I just wanted to use her to clear my name,” Madison sneered dismissively. “I didn’t think she was so fragile. One little scandal and she jumps? And she calls herself a counselor?” Madison threw her flowers onto the ground like trash. There was no plot twist. I never got my justice. In the end, Madison graduated with honors. Her “brand” was the smartest, most virtuous “It-Girl” in Hollywood. 05 I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Madison came for her consultation. She was looking at me uneasily. “Because… what, Dr. Sterling?” I suddenly broke into a grin. It must have looked terrifying, because Madison visibly flinched. “Nothing. Just a joke. I just want you to know that if you decide to jump, you won’t look very pretty when you’re dead.” “You’re the campus queen. You’re a rising star. You have so much to live for. Don’t do anything rash.” My voice grew gentler and warmer. Madison quickly dropped her guard. Everything she told me was exactly the same as in my past life. As the session ended, she made her move. “Dr. Sterling, I don’t want to die anymore. But about today… can you keep it between us?” “I understand,” I said with a smile. “I won’t report this to the administration, and I won’t tell your parents. After all, we wouldn’t want the cheating scandal to get any bigger, would we?” Madison nodded, looking at me with “gratitude.” She was the top student in her acting class. Her “sincere” acting was top-tier. In my past life, I was completely fooled by this performance. Madison only left after I gave my “word.” I checked the time. It was 8:00 PM. In the previous timeline, the bitch would appear on the roof in half an hour. She was playing the time gap so she could blame me later for not reporting it. The second Madison walked out the door, I pulled out my phone. I called her advisor, Mr. Higgins. “Your student just confessed to cheating and said she wants to kill herself. Get down here!” Mr. Higgins let out a sharp, panicked yell. I could hear him literally falling out of bed on the other end of the line. Then, I got her parents’ numbers from the student directory. “Your daughter was caught cheating and says she has no face to live. She’s talking about jumping off a building right now!” Finally, I called my fiancé, Marcus Thorne. “Your ‘favorite student’ was caught cheating and is currently planning a suicide attempt. Better get to campus if you want to play the hero!” I made over a dozen calls. From the University President down to her class president. I notified every single person in her circle. At 9:00 PM sharp, a scream erupted outside. “Oh my god! Someone is on the roof!” 06 Thanks to my “helpful” notifications, the stairs to the roof were already packed with curious students. They were all in their pajamas, craning their necks toward the ledge. The Advisor and the University President were already there. The firefighters were on their way. Madison was indeed standing on the roof of the twenty-story building, but she was standing inside the safety railing. Her hands were behind her back, gripping the bars for dear life, terrified she might actually slip. She had been there for less than ten minutes before she was surrounded by faculty. This was not the script she had written. In the previous life, she stood there silently and alone all night. She had “happened” to be filmed by a “stray drone” as a “broken beauty” weeping under the moonlight. Even though the firefighters “saved” her, that drone footage and her line about “the wind being so cold” made millions of fans ache for her. This time, the President and the Deans had rushed in with such fanfare that Madison didn’t have a single chance to play the “fragile victim.” The students at the stairwell were whispering loudly: “Why is she jumping? Oh, right, she got caught cheating. Guess she couldn’t face the shame!” Those words drifted into Madison’s ears, making her look incredibly embarrassed. “Madison! Please, let’s talk! You’re young, you have a whole life ahead of you! Don’t do this!” The President pleaded. Madison was trapped. She had to keep the act going. She squeezed out some tears. “President, I didn’t cheat! If you don’t believe me, bring the proctor and that girl who reported me here! Let us face each other in front of everyone! Clear my name!” The President, having been briefed by the advisor, agreed instantly. “Of course! Professor Reed and Riley Higgins are on their way! We’ll clear up the misunderstanding! Just don’t jump!” Professor Lucas Reed from the Math Department was the proctor. Riley Higgins was Madison’s classmate, the whistleblower. They arrived on the roof moments later. “You two! Think carefully about the day of the exam. Did Madison Vance do anything against the rules?” “Details! We need details! Was it a real case of cheating or a misunderstanding? We need to settle this now!” The President’s eyes were darting around. He leaned in close to Lucas and Riley, whispering urgently, “Don’t trigger her!” It was a blatant hint. I saw a tiny, triumphant smirk cross Madison’s face. In this situation, Lucas and Riley—even if they knew for a fact she cheated—couldn’t possibly tell the truth. If a single word from them sent Madison over the edge, they would be branded as murderers for the rest of their lives. It looked like Madison was the one in danger, but the “knife” was actually held over the heads of the witnesses. Madison was gambling on their fear. “The day of the exam…” Riley Higgins stepped forward, stuttering and hesitant. “You might have seen it wrong, right? It was just a big misunderstanding, wasn’t it?” The President prompted her, his guidance obvious. The crowd at the stairs went quiet. Someone whispered, “Maybe we really did frame her?” Madison wiped a tear from her eye, straightening her posture, ready to accept Riley’s “clarification” and “apology.” “The day of the exam…” the “hesitant” Riley suddenly looked up, her eyes burning as she stared Madison down. “I saw Madison Vance cheating with my own two eyes! She had a cheat sheet tucked into the side of her desk!” 07 “What are you saying?!” Madison was aghast. She never expected the usually quiet Riley to dare to accuse her so loudly again! “I’m not lying!” Riley’s voice was full of conviction, drowning out Madison’s weak protests. “Madison, you didn’t just cheat on the theater theory final. You cheated on the English final that afternoon, too!” “I wasn’t in the same room for the afternoon test, but my friend told me. I don’t have the physical evidence for that one, but if I had been there, I would have reported you again!” “Riley, you—!” Madison tried to speak, but Riley cut her off. “You’re a serial cheater! You’re already a famous star! You have everything! And yet you still use these dirty tactics to compete with us!” “Madison, I’ve had enough of you!” “I don’t care if the Board of Education is here or if the police are here! I’ll say it loud: Madison, do you really think jumping off a building will erase the fact that you’re a cheater?” The crowd gasped in unison. Madison’s face turned from red to white. She looked like she wanted to tear Riley apart. The President turned pale. He didn’t dare threaten Riley openly, so he turned to Lucas Reed. As the proctor, Lucas was the only one who could officially debunk Riley’s claim. Madison was now weeping, looking like she was about to collapse. The President warned him in a low voice: “Professor Reed! Student safety is the priority! Use your head!” “Don’t forget, your tenure review is coming up! If a student dies on your watch, it’s over for you!” “I understand, President.” Lucas Reed looked down, answering the President submissively. “President! I didn’t cheat! It’s Riley! She’s framing me! She’s just jealous!” Madison wailed, gripping the bars. The President, seeing her so worked up, tried to control the scene. “Riley’s word isn’t final! Professor Reed was the proctor. I trust his judgment!” Lucas Reed was pushed to the front. “Madison, calm down.” Lucas had a very soothing, calm voice. Madison looked at him with teary eyes, as if he were a prince coming to save her. “Professor, you believe me, right?” “I believe you,” Lucas said. Just as Madison let out a breath of relief, he pivoted. “I believe you can learn from this mistake. In future exams, I trust you won’t use cheat sheets like you did during this one, right?” 08 The crowd erupted again. “So she did cheat! She tried to use a suicide stunt to bully the proctor and the whistleblower into clearing her name!” “Professor Reed has always been upright! I believe him!” “Riley is a top-three student in the department. Why would she need to frame Madison?” Now, nothing the President or the Advisor said mattered. Having been publicly humiliated and exposed, Madison broke down into real, hysterical tears. This time, the sobbing wasn’t an act. Lucas and Riley didn’t move. They turned simultaneously and shared a subtle smile with me. Two hours earlier— While everyone else was rushing to the library to watch the drama, I had intercepted Lucas and Riley on a side path. They were the key figures in the cheating incident. They had received the news that Madison was going to jump. In the previous life, Madison used that jump to make herself the “perfect victim.” Oakridge University, fearing the PR nightmare, denied the cheating, fired Professor Reed, and put a permanent black mark on Riley’s academic record for “slander.” Riley was later harassed by Madison’s fans and eventually had acid thrown on her by a crazed stalker who claimed she “hurt his goddess.” The cheater won everything, while the truth-tellers were destroyed. As someone who came back from the dead, how could I let that happen again? Lucas and Riley were clearly terrified by the news of the jump. In their current state, once they got to that roof, they would have said whatever Madison wanted them to say. “Madison isn’t going to kill herself.” I stated this as a cold, hard fact. They looked at me in shock—as the campus counselor, my cold reaction was definitely not what they expected. “She’s using this jump to force the school to wipe her record. If you back down on that roof and say the cheating was a ‘misunderstanding,’ Madison will use that admission to sue you both for defamation and harassment.” I patted Lucas on the shoulder. “Professor, you just started your tenure track. Don’t let a moment of “soft-heartedness” ruin your entire career.” “Riley, reporting a cheater is about justice and fairness. You cannot back down. If you do, you become the liar, and the university will crush you to protect its own image.” “Once you have a disciplinary record, you can forget about those scholarships.” I knew Riley was a brilliant student from a low-income family. She relied on those scholarships for every cent of her tuition. To other students, Madison’s cheating was just gossip. But to Riley, every point Madison stole with a cheat sheet was a point that could cost Riley her future. So, she would report her. She was protecting fairness, but she was also protecting her life. The panic in Riley’s eyes faded. She had been woken up. 09 “Is she really just acting? She won’t actually jump?” Lucas asked me for confirmation one last time. I nodded and showed them Madison’s public schedule for next month. Not only was she starting a new film, but she had a major brand deal shoot with a top-tier celebrity. “A girl who is about to make millions and become a superstar doesn’t kill herself over a failed theory exam.” “And even if she’s expelled, a girl with her background can just go study in London or Paris. It’s a vacation for her.” Madison’s family wasn’t “Old Money,” but her parents were obsessed with her success. They had spent their entire savings to fund her Hollywood dreams. She wasn’t a “scholarship kid” like Riley. She had too many safety nets. “She just wants to use this drama to force the school’s hand.” “If you back down now, you’ll be the ones branded as villains. All the mud will be thrown on you.” Just then, Lucas’s phone rang. It was the President calling to pressure him. “You and Riley are the ones who reported her. Madison is about to jump! Get up here and fix this!” The President’s hint was clear: Go up there and tell whatever lie you need to tell to get her down. But his call came just a little too late. 10 “She’s been crying for ages, but she hasn’t even let go of the bar once.” The crowd below, now knowing the truth, started looking at Madison like she was a clown. Madison’s mind was truly breaking now. The testimony from Lucas and Riley had stripped her of every bit of dignity she had at Oakridge. But no matter how much she wailed, her hands remained clamped on that railing. People this selfish are the ones who value their own lives the most. I checked the traffic on Google Maps. It was Saturday, 9:00 PM—prime gridlock time. Madison’s parents, who lived nearby, arrived before the fire department. They had come to “protect” their daughter, but as soon as they arrived, they heard the students’ mocking comments. Madison’s father, a proud man, snapped. He pointed at Madison and yelled, “The school counselor called me and said you cheated! I didn’t believe it, but it’s true!” “Madison! I am a university professor! And you? You’re out here cheating at a state school?! Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?” As a psychologist, I should have stopped him. There are too many tragic cases where the parents’ ego is the final straw that breaks a child. Years ago, there was a girl who was about to be talked down by the police, but her parents rushed in, slapped her, and called her “dramatic.” They told her if she wanted to die, she should go drink bleach and stop making a scene. In that split second, the girl sprinted to the edge and dove off without a single hesitation. I had been prepared back then. I had grabbed her hand at the last second, and with the help of a firefighter, we saved her. I tore a ligament in my right hand that day. It still aches every winter. That girl eventually got away from her parents, moved to a big city, and built a life for herself. She once wrote me a letter saying I was her savior. Every time my hand hurts, it’s a reminder that I saved a life. A physical saving, and a mental one. For a therapist, saving a soul is the ultimate mission. In my previous life, I viewed Madison Vance as someone who needed saving. But what did she give me in return? Madison Vance didn’t deserve to be saved.

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My fiancé claimed he had forgotten me. He said he had fallen in love with another woman. He refused to try and remember our past. Like a madman, he fought to break our engagement so he could marry his new love. He even wanted to elope with her, abandoning his parents and the family business. Fighting back tears, I asked him, “This engagement happened after you got down on one knee. You spent three years planning your proposal to me. Later, when you remember, will you regret this?” The response I got was his cold, disgusted: “Never.” In that moment, I swallowed my tears and gave him his freedom. 1 Everyone in our circle said Arthur Sterling was truly in love with that woman. He brought her into his social circle, bought her cars and a house, treating her with extreme favoritism and romance. That woman even added me on Instagram, flaunting every moment of their lives together on her story every day. Occasionally, in the dead of night, she would send me long, dramatic texts. “Sloane, Arthur and I are truly in love. I beg you, give him back to me.” “He doesn’t even love you. Why must you keep harassing him?!” “Seeing him in so much pain every day because of you… it really breaks my heart! If you truly loved him, you should let him go, not stubbornly hold onto a wedding contract!” “He’s at the bar drinking again. His parents still won’t allow you two to break the engagement. Sloane, can a marriage bound by a family alliance really bring happiness?” A marriage bound by a family alliance? She probably didn’t know that my engagement with Arthur Sterling was something he had plotted for a very long time. Our families were close friends. We were childhood sweethearts who secretly harbored feelings for each other. It was beautiful, wasn’t it? I used to think Arthur and I would walk down the path of a happy, perfect life together. Just like his vows—loving each other until our hair turned white. Perhaps this life was too happy, so God decided to play a huge joke on us. Three months ago, on his way to pick up my dress for a gala, Arthur got into a car accident. He hit his head and lost his memory. He forgot everything, including the fact that he loved me. 2 At 11:00 PM, Arthur still wasn’t home. I picked up my phone and dialed his number. I had to call three times before he impatiently picked up on the other end. “Sloane Vance, aren’t you annoying?” The deafening music in the background wasn’t as piercing as his cold reprimand. I gripped the phone tighter, only softly reminding him: “It’s almost midnight. Don’t forget our agreement.” Yes, Arthur and I were living together. Actually, we had been living together ever since we got engaged. But later, he forgot me and fell in love with someone else, refusing to move back in here no matter what. Eventually, I signed an agreement with him. I said, give me three months. For these three months, we live together just like before. After three months, if he still hadn’t remembered the past, or hadn’t fallen back in love with me, then I was willing to break the engagement. Breaking the engagement was highly tempting to Arthur. So, suppressing his disgust, he reluctantly agreed. Our agreement had two rules. He couldn’t break them; if he did, the agreement was void, and the engagement would proceed as planned. First: He must be home by midnight every night. Second: During this period, he was not allowed to have any intimate physical contact with the opposite sex. “Sloane, you’re not my wife, and I don’t acknowledge you as my fiancée. What right do you have to control me?” Arthur sneered on the other end. “Besides, isn’t there still an hour until midnight?” “I don’t want to go home that early, facing your bland, boring face makes me sick.” Vile words poured from his mouth relentlessly. I tried hard to keep my facial muscles rigid so I wouldn’t lose my composure. I heard a woman’s playful voice on the other end, acting coy. “Arthur, if you get distracted by her call again, I’m going to be mad. If you don’t finish these three shots, I won’t forgive you!” It was Mia Hayes, the woman he was keeping. Immediately after, Arthur’s doting laughter came through the receiver: “You little troublemaker.” Saying that, he was about to hang up the phone directly. I spoke up again: “Arthur Sterling, I’ll give you two choices. Either come home right now, or give me the address and I’ll come pick you up.” “Otherwise, the engagement stands.” After a long pause, Arthur cursed: “Sloane Vance, are you asking for it?” 3 Half an hour later, I arrived at a nightclub called ‘Eclipse’ and found Arthur. Young trust-fund kids were gathered together, all well-known playboys. Previously, Arthur never associated with this crowd. After losing his memory, he actually hung out with them more. “Well, well, if it isn’t Young Master Sterling’s fiancée?” Someone sharp-eyed spotted me and joked, “What, Miss Vance, are you afraid Arthur won’t come home tonight, so you specifically came to pick him up?” A group of people burst into unrestrained laughter. Only Mia Hayes, beside Arthur, wasn’t laughing. Naturally, given my relationship with her, neither of us could laugh. The way she looked at me was always filled with contempt and guardedness. Arthur sat in the dim light, set down the drink in his hand, tugged at his lower lip, and spat out one word. “Buzzkill.” I tried hard to ignore the disgust in his eyes and said softly: “Arthur, let’s go home.” “Arthur…” Mia immediately pouted her red lips and acted cute, unwilling to let him leave. She was a pretty, young woman, full of youthful vibrancy, her bright eyes filled with reluctance and attachment. Arthur’s heart ached for her, and he coaxed her gently. The two of them tangled together, reluctant to part. And I was the villain trying to break them apart. The trust-fund kids around them couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Someone spoke up: “Miss Vance, I put this group together tonight. If you want to take Arthur away, fine. Drink this bottle of liquor, and I’ll let you take him.” He was holding a bottle of high-proof vodka. I frowned, then looked at Arthur. However, Arthur only raised an eyebrow, looking amused: “My family does business with his family. I’m here tonight to negotiate a partnership. If he won’t let me go, I really can’t go.” He shrugged, maliciously tossing the problem to me. My relationship with him was at a stalemate now, but Arthur’s parents treated me extremely well. Naturally, I couldn’t do anything detrimental to their company. Moreover, the situation was clear now. That person wanted me to drink this bottle of vodka before he would continue doing business with the Sterling family. Deliberate sabotage. I almost subconsciously raised my hand to press against my stomach. I had a bad stomach. I had ended up in the hospital several times because of the pain. Back then, Arthur was heartbroken. Not only did he personally cook nutritious meals for me every day, but he also insisted on watching me finish eating before he was satisfied. Once, he even solemnly promised me, saying that since he was taking such delicate care of me, if I ever let my stomach act up and feel bad again, I should punish him by not letting him eat for three days. I laughed at him back then, saying who makes promises like that. He, however, looked incredibly serious and distressed, saying if it were possible, he wished he could suffer in my place. With so many memories flooding back, for a moment, I couldn’t distinguish whether the Arthur in front of me was the person in my memory or the cold, ruthless man he was now. I smiled bitterly. Under the mocking gazes of the crowd, I spoke up: “Fine, I’ll drink.” 4 Downing a whole bottle of vodka was no joke. I had only drunk half the bottle when I broke out in a cold sweat, my face as pale as paper. Seeing this, the group was afraid of causing real trouble and waved their hands, telling me to stop drinking. Arthur stood up, looking bored: “In that case, I’ll be leaving first today. Chad, we’ll discuss the partnership tomorrow.” Mia was still pulling at him, refusing to let him go, almost crying. Fighting through the dizziness, I walked over, grabbed Arthur’s sleeve, and dragged him out of the club. As soon as I hit the cold air outside, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I ran to a trash can and started vomiting profusely. My stomach was burning with pain. The fiery alcohol was tearing through my body, making my internal organs ache terribly. Unable to bear it, I slumped onto the ground, looking utterly pathetic. Arthur just stood aside, watching coldly, like a stranger. I didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or if the night was just too cold. Meeting his icy gaze, I suddenly felt wronged and tears fell. I said, “Arthur, my stomach hurts…” But by my side, there was no longer anyone to gently and nervously hold me. … 5 Perhaps I had the friendship between the Sterling and Vance families to thank for Arthur not just abandoning me at the club and leaving. I barely managed to get home, grabbed my medication, and swallowed it. I also handed Arthur two hangover pills. He always got headaches the day after drinking. Every time he came home from a dinner party, I would prepare them for him in advance. Tonight, he seemed to have drunk quite a bit. The designated driver had asked him the route several times before he rubbed his temples and gave a brief response. Seeing me hand him the pills, Arthur instinctively reached out to take them, but then frowned fiercely, standing frozen in disbelief. It was as if he was shocked by his own subconscious action. “What is this?” He asked me, a silent frustration surging in his eyes. Fighting the churning in my stomach, I forced myself to explain to him: “Hangover pills. If you don’t take them, your head will hurt tomorrow.” He pursed his lower lip upon hearing this, unwilling to accept my medication. Finally, I just placed the pills on the table and went back to my room first. I couldn’t hold on much longer. My stomach ache hadn’t flared up like this in years. Stimulated by the vodka, the pain made me break out in cold sweats. I originally thought that having just taken my medicine, I would feel better after resting for a bit, but I still underestimated the pain. I curled up on the bed, trembling all over from the pain. I didn’t have the energy to go to the hospital, and my phone was dead, so I couldn’t contact anyone. In the huge penthouse apartment, there was only Arthur next door. I figured I could only bother him to call a car for me, and I would go to the hospital myself. But before I could even get up, the bedroom door was kicked open from the outside. “Sloane, what the hell kind of medicine was that!” Outside the door stood Arthur, his breathing erratic, his eyes bloodshot with anger. 6 Arthur seemed to have ingested something he shouldn’t have. He couldn’t control himself, pinning me viciously to the bed. Tearing at my clothes. He said there was a problem with the hangover pills I just gave him. He called me a slut for using such dirty, underhanded tactics. Through my tears, I said I didn’t, but he wouldn’t listen. His movements were rough and ruthless. “Sloane, since you dared to do something like this, then bear the consequences!” Ignoring my pale face, he bit down hard on my shoulder. The intense pain sent shivers through my body. Arthur didn’t hold back. I could even feel the moment my skin was pierced. It hurt. There was blood everywhere. That night, I cried for a long time. I pushed him like a madwoman. I said I didn’t do it. I said it hurt, it really hurt. I cried until my voice went hoarse, heart-wrenching, but it didn’t awaken any pity in the man. The moonlight outside the window was shattered. For the first time, I felt that the person in front of me was a complete stranger. “Don’t…” “It hurts… Arthur, it really hurts…” “Arthur… when are you finally coming back…” Arthur, I really… can’t hold on much longer… 7 I had a dream about the past. A few years ago, right after Arthur and I officially started dating, I loved watching those cheesy soap operas. Whenever there was a plot about a mistress or amnesia, I would always complain about it to him. And after complaining, I’d worry unnecessarily, afraid those dramatic tropes would happen to us. At those times, the way Arthur looked at me was both exasperated and tender. He said, “Sloane, I promise, in this life, I won’t fall in love with anyone else.” “So there will never be a mistress.” Hearing this made me feel sweet, but I was still relentless: “Then, what if we both lose our memories? What if one side forgets the other?” Maybe I asked too earnestly, because he actually thought about it seriously for a moment. Then he said, “If you lose your memory, I will do everything in my power to win you back.” “What if you’re the one who loses your memory…?” “Sloane, don’t give up on me. Give me three months to find the version of myself who loves you the most.” 8 When I woke up the next day, Arthur was already gone. I endured the pain that felt like I had been crushed all over to sit up. Looking at the bruises and marks covering my body, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. His attitude last night was truly like he was treating an enemy. He choked me, over and over, calling me a slut, calling me dirty. Memories flooded my mind, bringing a sense of suffocation. I closed my eyes, unwilling to think about it anymore. While washing my body, I thought over and over again, My Arthur, when are you finally coming back? Mia Hayes ran downstairs to my company that afternoon. I had just gotten ready to go across the street to buy coffee when she rushed out. Staring at the marks on my neck, her jealousy was intense: “You two did it last night, didn’t you?” “So, Arthur acted like that last night because of something you did?” I answered with a question, waiting for her reply. But Mia was very smart. She didn’t answer directly. Instead, she stared at me with dissatisfaction and resentment. Then she sneered: “Miss Vance, I know the Vance family has been going downhill lately. So you’re clinging to Mr. Sterling, trying to grasp this lifeline to turn your family’s fortunes around. But it’s a pity, he only loves me now. He completely despises you, do you understand?” Ah, so Mia came to show off today. What happened between Arthur and me last night made her feel uncomfortable, like a fishbone stuck in her throat. So, she came to make me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to listen to this nonsense anymore. I lifted my foot to leave, but she suddenly acted out of character, tears falling abruptly. Her former arrogance and jealousy turned into a pitiful stubbornness. “Sloane, I know you don’t like me. But there was no need to invite me here just to show off your… marks…” She said, tears rolling down, looking heartbroken. Then, as if compromising, she took a step back: “Fine. Since you two are together, and you can’t stand seeing me, I’ll just leave…” My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to look. Sure enough, Arthur was standing behind us at some point. And Mia’s words just now were deliberately said for him to hear. At this moment, Mia looked as if she had just noticed him. Her face froze, and she softly called out, “Arthur.” Then, she turned and ran away in absolute agony. Arthur immediately chased after her with a dark expression: “Sloane Vance, you really are something. Were you that desperate to drive Mia away?” He misunderstood. He thought I deliberately showed off last night’s marks to Mia to break her down and drive a wedge between them. My relationship with Arthur was already deteriorating. I didn’t want to create these misunderstandings out of nowhere for him to misjudge me. So I quickly followed: “Arthur, that’s not what happened. She came to find me…” I grabbed his sleeve, wanting to explain to him as quickly as possible. But as the three of us tangled together, Mia feigned grievance and suddenly pushed me and Arthur away while crying. Arthur was a large, muscular man. Mia couldn’t move him at all. But wearing high heels, I was caught off guard and lost control, falling backward toward the street. Almost immediately, the ear-piercing sound of screeching brakes accompanied Mia’s scream simultaneously. In the next instant, I suddenly lurched forward, and everything in my vision flipped, becoming blurry. The only thing clearly visible was Arthur’s suddenly pale face… 9 I got into a car accident. But luckily, the car behind me braked in time, so it didn’t cause me any massive physical harm. The only harm… Was that the three-month-old baby in my womb miscarried. When I heard this news, I felt completely numb and empty. Staring at the snow-white ceiling, tears rolled down, and I didn’t say a word. Outside the hospital room, there were the sounds of my parents scolding Arthur. Arthur’s parents had also arrived, looking angry and helpless. After my mom finished scolding him, she wiped her tears and came in. Seeing me awake, she hurriedly came over, holding my hand and asking if I felt unwell anywhere. The people outside also heard the commotion, and one by one, they all rushed in. “My sweet girl, do you feel uncomfortable anywhere? Dad will call the doctor for you!” “Sloane, it’s our Sterling family that has let you down!” “Don’t worry, I promise you, that brat Arthur Sterling will absolutely not let you down! Even if he doesn’t remember you, I’ll make him marry you and make you the young madam of the Sterling family!” Everyone was talking over each other. Only Arthur’s voice apologizing sounded at the very end, so soft it was almost inaudible. With my mom’s help, I slowly sat up. My gaze passed over the crowd and looked directly into Arthur’s obscure eyes. After a long moment, I spoke: “I want to talk to him alone.” The parents looked at each other. My parents had always respected my opinions. Even if they were worried, they could only leave for the time being. Before Arthur’s parents left, they kicked him hard, warning him that if he dared to bully me again, they would make him pay. Arthur took the hit without dodging. Soon, the room fell silent, leaving only him and me. The quiet air, the atmosphere of unbridled silence, was suffocating. He looked up at me, his expression dim and apologetic: “I’m sorry, Mia didn’t mean to…” His very first sentence was actually defending Mia. I suddenly felt like laughing, and I did laugh out loud. I said: “What if I said, she did it on purpose?” Arthur immediately furrowed his brow. Clearly, he actually thought I was framing Mia. Regarding this point, I didn’t want to argue with him. The police would naturally pull the surveillance footage to verify the truth. I stared at him closely and suddenly changed the subject. “Arthur, the baby was conceived three months ago. I knew early on. Unfortunately, before I had time to share this good news with you, you got into a car accident.” He lowered his head, half of his face hidden in the darkness, making it impossible to read his expression. “I’ve been waiting for you. Waiting for you to recover your memory, become the real you again, and then tell you about the baby. I thought, the you at that time would have been very happy.” “Sloane Vance…” Arthur suddenly interrupted me. I said: “Go ahead.” “This baby… it’s good that it’s gone.” Perhaps out of guilt, he didn’t dare look me in the eye. His jaw was clenched tight. My hand gripping the quilt tightened until my knuckles turned white. Suddenly, I closed my eyes, and tears slid down. “Arthur, leave.” 10 That day, Arthur left without hesitation. Only before leaving, he cast a complicated look at me and said “Sorry” once more. Then, he left without hesitation. His Mia was living in fear. She needed him, so he had to rush back to her side immediately. But… My Arthur, when will you finally return to my side? 11 Mia was detained. Intentional assault. I pressed charges. The police pulled the surveillance footage. Although it was from a distance, it was clear that she pushed me into the street. This alone was enough to get her a few years in prison. When I saw Arthur again, he was furious, practically kicking the door of my hospital room open. “Sloane Vance, what exactly are you trying to do!” He brought a chilling aura with him. Regardless of the fact that I was still receiving an IV drip, he yanked me up from the hospital bed. The IV needle on the back of my hand shifted from the force, causing blood to flow backward. I frowned in pain. “Miss Vance!” The nurse standing by gasped in shock and wanted to rush forward to help me, but she was intimidated by Arthur’s demeanor, hesitating anxiously. I furrowed my brow, pulled the needle out myself, and signaled the nurse to relax and wait outside the door for a bit. The smell of disinfectant in the room was strong, but it still couldn’t mask the sweet perfume on Arthur. He must have been by Mia’s side when the police took her away. “Drop the case!” Arthur commanded coldly. I paused, arguing fiercely with him: “Arthur, if the driver hadn’t hit the brakes in time that day, what you’d be looking at today might have been a gravestone.” Mia’s actions definitely constituted attempted murder. As for whether she did it intentionally or unintentionally, probably only she knew in her heart. But it didn’t matter. The power to decide how this incident developed lay with me. Arthur frowned in disgust: “Sloane, I didn’t think you were so vicious! I told you, Mia’s action was an unintentional mistake! If you’re still angry, just tell me what you want, and I’ll compensate you!” “Compensate?” Hearing this word, I was stunned for a long time. I clearly didn’t want to, but tears still welled up in my eyes. When I found out Arthur lost his memory, I didn’t break down. When I found out he fell in love with another woman, I could still endure it. But in this moment, these two words were like a sharp knife, piercing through all my forbearance and effort. I suddenly raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Sloane…” Arthur looked incredibly shocked, looking as if he was going to explode in anger the next second. But upon meeting my eyes, he suddenly stopped. I thought, in that moment, I must have looked like a madwoman. Hysterical. “Then how will you compensate me for the child I had with him?!” “Arthur, you lost your memory. You’re not him. You’re not sad. But do you think everyone is indifferent to the loss of this child?!” “You say ‘compensate’ so casually. Can you give him back to me? Can you give our child back to me?!” Like a madwoman, I grabbed whatever I could reach and threw it all at him. Arthur had never seen me like this. His cold face revealed a hint of confusion and helplessness. He frowned, opened his mouth as if to say something, but was left speechless. After a long while, he turned to leave: “Calm down first. I’ll come back tomorrow to negotiate with you.” But I suddenly spoke up, calling him back. “Arthur.” “The case against Mia is impossible to drop. Even if you have sky-high capabilities, the witnesses and physical evidence are all there. You can’t change it.” Hearing the hidden meaning in my words, he pursed his lower lip, his eyes extremely cold. “What do you want?” I wiped a tear, forced a very ugly smile, and said: “Early next month, let’s get married.” I admit, I was being despicable. 12 The day Arthur left, his expression was extremely cold and ugly. He repeatedly called me a slut, his eyes tinged with a bloody red. If possible, he seemed to want to rush over and strangle me. But the nurse had promptly notified my parents to rush over, so Arthur didn’t get the chance. My dad almost got into a physical fight with him. My mom cried and wiped the tear tracks from my face, asking me why I bothered. I understood what my parents meant. Arthur was no longer the Arthur of the past. He disliked me, even hated me. My parents didn’t understand why I was still holding on. But Mom… We used to be so in love. I didn’t want my Arthur to come back only to find out we had drifted apart…

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During my senior year, I intentionally failed my tests so I could pay the “school heartthrob” to tutor me, all to help him out of poverty. He hated me for it, claiming I was stealing time away from his childhood sweetheart. When he found out my actual SAT scores were 400 points higher than his, he cursed me—the “evil rich girl” with a fake heart—saying I’d never find true love. Later, he killed me. Even at my grave, he didn’t forget to warn me: “If there’s a next life, don’t bother with your fake pity. Don’t try to force a relationship that was never yours.” As he wished. In this life, I never asked for tutoring. He finally had all the time in the world to wash dishes and bus tables with his sweetheart at a greasy diner. 1 The school heartthrob, Jax Thorne, lost his father three years ago. His dad, a firefighter, died in the line of duty during a massive warehouse fire. My family owns the Sterling Dining Group, a massive chain of restaurants, one of which was saved by his father’s crew. To honor his sacrifice, my family donated $150,000 to his mother. Grief-stricken, his mother became chronically ill and was hospitalized. By the time Jax and I were seniors at the same elite public high school, his family had drained the life insurance and the donations. When my mom found out he was in my honors classes, she offered another $100,000. Jax rejected it with a cold glare: “Stop insulting me with your charity.” In my past life, I came up with a plan. I tanked my placement exams to rank at the bottom, then hired Jax as a high-priced tutor. I thought it would save his pride while giving him a way to stop working double shifts at diners so he could focus on his SATs and his sick mother. But he hated me for it. First, he believed the tutoring sessions took him away from his sweetheart, Lily Miller, causing her to fall for a “bad boy” at a rival school. Second, he felt my high SAT scores were a personal insult. He didn’t think a “failing student” like me should be smarter than him, and he accused me of using money to buy my way into his life. He told me he could never love me. He cursed me to never find happiness. Later, he reinvented himself. He got into a decent grad school and started a high-end medical aesthetics company. Being a former “heartthrob,” his face was his best marketing tool. He made ten million dollars quickly. He finally got the courage to find Lily, only to discover she was pregnant with twins by a billionaire twenty years her senior. His ten million was pocket change compared to that family’s estate. So, Jax turned all that resentment toward me. He invited me to his clinic for a “complimentary treatment,” then secretly injected a neurotoxin into my veins. He masked my death as a “rare aesthetic surgery complication.” My parents wanted justice. But knowing it happened at the company of a “hero’s son,” they were blinded by respect for his late father. They believed Jax’s lies. He even helped organize my funeral. After the burial, Jax swindled my parents out of a new investment. He stood at my grave, gloating. He warned me with pure malice: “If there’s a next life, don’t play the saint. I never needed your handouts. I wasn’t worth your ‘pity,’ and I certainly didn’t need your money. It was your arrogance that killed you. I have a clear conscience.” Maybe the universe saw the injustice. It gave me a second chance. This time, I won’t hide my light for a second. I won’t give a loser the chance to earn a single cent from my family. And I won’t let him hurt me again. 2 Holding my failing mid-term report card from junior year, I walked into my house. Seeing my parents looking years younger felt like a dream. My mom took the report card, fed me a slice of orange, and winked. “Our little genius is back. Take your vitamins and fish oil, Chloe. But don’t forget, you were the top student in the district. Don’t get too into character as a ‘struggling student.’” I swallowed the orange, fighting back tears. “Starting today, we’re not hiring Jax Thorne to tutor me anymore. And for the next exam, I’m not failing on purpose.” “Also, if he applies to work at any of our restaurants, please tell the managers to reject him.” My mom looked startled, exchanging a glance with my dad. In the previous life, they agreed to my “undercover” tutoring plan to help Jax, but they had endured a lot of gossip because of it. The daughter of the district’s top scholar was suddenly failing in an honors class. For two years, people whispered that my middle school grades were faked or bought. “Rich kids only know how to calculate money, not math,” they’d say. “She’s just trying to get close to the hot guy. She’s trying to ‘upgrade’ her family’s genes because, usually, it’s either a beauty with a beast or a plain girl with a hunk.” My parents had endured that shame just to help a hero’s son. And I had been so deep in the “role” that I actually developed feelings for Jax. I defended him constantly. I was a teenager; I was a sucker for a handsome face and a “brooding bad boy” trope. But the tears were gone now. I spoke firmly: “I’m not joking. I’m going to the study to catch up on my own.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Miller, led a cold, arrogant-looking Jax into the foyer. Seeing his 18-year-old face made me want to gag. I suppressed the urge and let out a scoff: “I bet tutoring a ‘rich girl’ like me is beneath you, Jax. You can leave now.” “I’ll pay you for today, but if you don’t want ‘charity,’ feel free to decline the Venmo. From tomorrow on, don’t come back. My family’s house is big, but we’re done playing the Good Samaritan for someone who greets us with a sneer.” 3 The phantom pain of the toxin in my veins still haunts my nightmares. I woke up in a cold sweat, screaming. My mom rushed in to comfort me. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” She wiped the sweat from my forehead. “It’s just a dream. We’re here.” “Mom,” I whispered, hugging her tight. “Can we make sure none of our partner restaurants or suppliers hire Jax Thorne for part-time work? Don’t give him a single chance to earn money from our network. Not even as a dishwasher.” My mom was confused. “Chloe, what happened? Yesterday you were obsessed with helping him. Did he do something to you?” I couldn’t tell her about the rebirth; it would sound insane. I just explained that Jax had repeatedly shown contempt for our family’s “dirty money” and that he had rejected her $100k donation. My mom understood. She agreed. But she added that if he couldn’t work for us, he’d likely end up at our rival’s place—Vance’s Bistro. The place with terrible reviews, known for mistreating staff, but still somehow popular. I nodded. That was exactly the plan. I had a new goal: clearing the air and getting my revenge. First, make Jax realize exactly who he is without our support. Second, make him suffer. Third, watch him fall. 4 As expected, a week later, Jax was working part-time at Vance’s Bistro. Initially, he didn’t care about being rejected by other places because Lily Miller was also working there. To him, being with Lily was the only thing that mattered, even if the pay was $5 less an hour than what my family’s restaurants offered. Every day after school, Jax and Lily would meet at the crosswalk, share a cheap snack, and take the bus to go wash dishes. Jax’s mother’s hospital bills were astronomical. In the past, my family’s “tutoring fee”—which was five times the market rate—had kept them afloat. But without it, his $12-an-hour dishwasher job didn’t even cover the interest on the debt. He started begging the hospital for extensions. He started working graveyard shifts and skipping school to bus tables. Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Harrison, noticed. He called Jax to his office. Harrison didn’t want a top-ten student to waste his potential. He gave Jax $1,000 out of his own pocket and promised to organize a class-wide fundraiser. During study hall, the donation QR code was passed around. My desk mate, Sarah Jenkins, scanned it and sent $200. “That’s my whole coffee and breakfast budget for the month,” Sarah sighed. “Chloe, I know your family is loaded, so don’t laugh at my small donation.” I didn’t stop my pen. I didn’t even look up. “I’m not donating.” Sarah froze. “What?!” “Didn’t you used to pay him a fortune for tutoring? He’s basically your mentor. And your family is so charitable—like the movie Parasite says, the rich are nice because they can afford to be.” “Wait, that came out wrong. I’m not trying to judge you, I’m just curious…” I put my pen down. I passed the QR code to the person behind me. “You can’t be too nice, Sarah. Otherwise, you become a ‘Saint’ that everyone hates. Look up ‘malice of the beneficiary.’ If I donate, he’ll just feel insulted and probably try to pick a fight with me for ‘flaunting’ my wealth.” Sarah laughed. I whispered in her ear: “I’m just trying to stay safe. Seriously.” “Two years ago, my mom tried to give his family $100k, and he acted like we spat on his face. I’m done trying to force my ‘pity’ on someone who doesn’t want it. The Sterling bank is closed for Jax Thorne.” During the next class meeting, Mr. Harrison announced the total: $10,498. He coughed and looked directly at me. “Most of you are very kind students. However, some people who could afford to help chose to stay silent…” At the same time, an icy, hateful glare shot toward me from the front row. Oh, it was our charity case, Jax. 5 I stared right back at him, waiting for him to say something. He just turned away, silent. I packed my bags and went home. I needed my sleep. I had the finals tomorrow, and I intended to dominate the exam hall again. It had been a while since I allowed myself to be at the top. A week later, the results were posted. I jumped from the bottom to the top 30 in the grade, and top 5 in my class. Jax, who had been a top-10 student for years, plummeted to rank 100. The school went into a frenzy. “No way! Chloe Sterling is top 30? She improved by over 300 points? She had to have cheated!” “Wait, wasn’t she the district valedictorian in middle school? Maybe she’s just back in form?” “Everyone said she bought that title. And look at Jax! Why did his grades drop? Did they swap papers? He needs money for his mom…” Mr. Harrison called me into his office. “Did you cheat, Chloe?” “No.” “Prove it. Why is your score so much higher than Jax’s—the boy who was supposedly tutoring you? You didn’t donate to him; did you use that money to buy his answers instead?” I laughed. “Why should I prove anything? Burden of proof is on the accuser.” “Mr. Harrison, I used to respect you, but I see you’ve got a bias. My parents started with a food truck and worked 80-hour weeks for a decade. They focused on quality and service. If you’re so bothered by wealth, feel free to quit and start your own truck.” “You have to admit that wealth buys time. It buys the ability to focus on studying instead of survival. And my family pays a massive amount of taxes that fund this school’s ‘education grants’—which you’ve benefited from. Don’t bite the hand that feeds the district. If you’re confused about how the world works, read an economics book.” Harrison was speechless. “You… you have no respect for your elders!” I walked out. “Respect is earned, not given by a title. Stop trying to label people just because they don’t fit your narrative.” 6 I walked back to class, and Jax was waiting by my desk. He still had that look of pure condescension. “Can we talk outside?” I rolled my eyes. “Say whatever you have to say right here.” He stayed quiet for a moment, then spat out: “What did you say to my mom? She wants to see you. She’s asking for you at the hospital.” “Listen, she wants to see you, but that doesn’t mean I accept you. There’s nothing between us. Stop playing these mind games to get my attention.” I stood up and slapped him hard. “Stop talking like a narcissist. I’m not playing games. I stopped paying you because I realized I could get a better score than you without your ‘tutoring.’ Why would I waste my money on someone who looks like they’re smelling something bad every time they see me?” “And ‘us’? Jax, have I ever asked you out? Have I ever sent you a letter? No. You’re the one standing at my desk right now. Get some self-awareness and stop wasting the reputation your father built.” Jax’s face turned bright red. He looked shocked, then roared: “Whatever! I told you she wants to see you. I’m going back to work to earn my own way.” “Then go bus your tables and stop acting like a martyr, you hypocrite!” I shouted at his back. Sarah Jenkins stopped sipping her latte and grabbed my hand. “Chill, Chloe. Your cortisol levels are going to spike.” “I’m fine, Sarah. Getting that out of my system is better than any detox.” I offered to take her out for Korean BBQ to celebrate our scores. Sarah had moved into the top 30 too. We walked out of the school, ignoring the whispers of our classmates. At the restaurant, we stuffed ourselves with brisket and pork belly. Sarah pulled out two boba teas. “To the top 30! Next year, let’s aim for the Ivy League!” “To giving up on being a ‘Saint,’” I added. We clinked our cups. “To a bright future.” 7 A week later, I saw Jax at the hospital while I was there for a check-up. He was checking his mother out. Not because she was better, but because she was worse. She had suffered a massive stroke. She was partially paralyzed. They were broke. The crowdfunding only covered the initial debt. People lose their “generosity” when a case becomes a long-term burden. Jax’s mother saw me and my mom. She feebly waved and thanked us. She knew my family had helped them in the past and wanted to show her gratitude. “Jax doesn’t want to ask for more money,” she whispered. “He’s a proud boy. I’ll just do my physical therapy at home. He can help me after he finishes his shifts at the diner.” I looked at Jax. He was scowling, his hands covered in Band-Aids. He pushed his mother’s wheelchair into the cold wind to wait for a bus. He was taking out his frustration from Vance’s Bistro on us. I called my contact at the Bistro. I had a “vibe checker” working there. Jax was having a nightmare of a time. He hadn’t received his full paycheck because he broke a stack of “custom-made” plates, and the manager charged him triple for damages. He tried to go back to his old jobs, but every restaurant in the Sterling network and our partners had a “no-hire” note on his file. “Is this the Thorne kid? Sorry, Sterling Group is a major stakeholder here. We can’t hire him.” Jax finally realized that making money was hard. He had to work double shifts, skip more classes, and endure the abuse at Vance’s Bistro just to buy his mom’s meds. Meanwhile, Lily Miller was no longer washing dishes. The manager put her in a glass booth at the entrance to “perform” as a prep cook because she was pretty. She hated Jax’s constant complaining and started ignoring his texts.

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In the third year of our marriage, my husband’s college-student mistress was diagnosed with “cancer.” The man who had never believed in a higher power actually went to a historic cathedral, kneeling at every step to pray and light a candle for her. The incident went completely viral, making national headlines. He called me to explain: “It was her dying wish. I couldn’t refuse the kid.” I looked down, smiled, and hung up the phone. Then, I went back to tangling the sheets with the rebellious, untamable heir of the Vance empire. 1 That night, I was curled up on the sofa reading a script when my agent, Valerie, FaceTimed me. She looked furious. “Stella, your husband and his little pet canary are trending on X.” My finger paused on the script. I frowned in displeasure. Oliver cheating wasn’t exactly breaking news, but this was the first time it had trended so publicly. Valerie forwarded me a video, her face dark. “The girl he’s keeping on the side, Bella, apparently got diagnosed with cancer and only has a few months to live. Oliver somehow heard that St. Patrick’s Cathedral is miraculous, so he went there personally to pray for her. Now every media outlet is reporting on it. The PR team is having a hard time suppressing the trending tags.” I tapped on the video Valerie sent. It was filmed from a bystander’s perspective. In the video, the usually immaculate, suit-clad man was kneeling reverently, praying with absolute devotion before carefully placing a blessed silver pendant around the neck of the petite girl beside him. Watching this, I remembered the time I asked Oliver to come with me to church for a holiday service. He had exuded nothing but impatience. He didn’t even bother looking up from his stack of documents, his tone ice-cold: “I don’t believe in any of that nonsense. Find someone else to go with you.” I tossed the script aside and leaned back into the sofa. I thought about how Oliver and I had gotten to this point. We grew up together as childhood sweethearts. When I first entered the entertainment industry, a sleazy director got me drunk and tried to grope me. Oliver, who was negotiating a business deal in the VIP room next door, got a frantic call from Valerie and kicked the door down. I heard later that the director had to be carried out on a stretcher. When that story hit the internet, the romance between Oliver and me skyrocketed to the top of the trending charts. #StellaSterlingHarassed,OliverGrantFliesIntoARage #StellaAndOliverPowerCouple #ChildhoodSweetheartsToSoulmates Back then, I never imagined Oliver would ever change. And I certainly never imagined he would bring another woman right in front of my face. That day, all my dignity and pride were shattered. I screamed hysterically, “Who is she?!” Bella was petite, looking soft and fragile. Hearing my voice, she hid behind Oliver in terror. The man gently patted her head, signaling her not to be afraid. “Stella, maybe we should both try seeing younger people.” I understood exactly what he meant. My heart plummeted to the absolute bottom. “So, you cheated? And you’re trying to make it sound noble?!” Oliver frowned, disliking my phrasing. “It’s an open marriage. We can both play the field. You’ll enjoy it.” Crying, I launched myself at him, hitting him with my fists. Oliver didn’t dodge or flinch. He just stared at me for a few seconds, frowning. “Take some time to calm down.” He grabbed Bella’s hand and walked toward the door. I grabbed the crystal vase next to me and hurled it at them. Oliver only glanced back at me once before leaving without a second of hesitation. From the beginning, when he first started seeing women on the side, he would at least remember to change his clothes before coming home. Later on, he didn’t even care if there were lipstick stains on his shirt collar. 2 “Sister, I’m done showering. Have you finished reading your script?” A gentle, incredibly attractive male voice drifted from the bedroom. I snapped back to reality, instinctively looking at my phone screen. Valerie had clearly heard it. I met her probing, shocked gaze. I took a deep breath and spoke slowly, “Oliver isn’t the only one who stepped out. I cheated too.” Valerie’s expression looked as if she had just been struck by lightning. She was petrified. A few seconds later, a barrage of questions hit me: “When did this happen?!” “Who is he?!” “Are you two seriously dating, or is it just a fling?!” I was struggling with how to explain it to her when Wesley Vance walked out of the bedroom, shirtless. Droplets of water clung to his sculpted torso, trailing slowly down his abs to his waistline. Valerie’s jaw dropped to the floor. “M-Mr. Vance?!” I quickly threw out a, “I’ll explain another day!” and hung up. 3 Wesley pinned me against the sofa, his burning skin pressing against mine. “Sister, when are you getting a divorce? That trashy couple is trending online, which proves he doesn’t care about you at all. Everything Oliver can give you, I can give you too. Divorce him, please?” “Be good. Let’s not talk about that right now. Kiss me.” Wesley flushed red from his ears to his neck. His lips crushed against mine, deepening the kiss relentlessly. Outside the window, a heavy rain suddenly began to pour, the raindrops drumming against the glass. Inside, shadows intertwined. A sudden, urgent ringtone interrupted us. Glancing at the caller ID, my tone was flat. “What do you want?” As soon as I spoke, I realized how husky my voice was. On the other end, Oliver paused. “Is it a convenient time to talk?” Wesley, hearing that it was him, lightly bit my earlobe, eliciting an ambiguous sound from my throat. Noticing his petty little move, I smiled. “Pour me a glass of water.” Wesley glared at my phone, huffed twice in annoyance, and deliberately made a loud clatter as he walked to the kitchen. I shook my head. His temper was getting bigger by the day. Hearing the noise on my end fade, Oliver stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking. “I won’t be coming home for a while. I’m staying at the hospital to keep Bella company.” I was annoyed. Was it really worth a phone call just to tell me this garbage? Too lazy to argue, I impatiently gave an “Mhm.” “Bella’s final wish is for me to get her a blessed pendant. You know I couldn’t refuse. She’s just a young girl looking for romance. She posted it online, and I know it caused some negative PR for you, but please don’t hold it against her. Two of the top luxury brands—Eastwood and Carberry—have agreed to make you their exclusive global ambassador for the next five years.” I felt like I was listening to a joke. “You’re trying to buy my silence with sponsorships?” “Aren’t you thinking a little too highly of yourself? Grant Corp has skyrocketed over the past two years. Do you honestly not know how much of that was due to my industry connections?” “Have you spent so much time with that naive little girl that you’ve become ‘naive’ too?” I heavily emphasized the word ‘naive’. Normally, the conversation would end right here. Oliver would get angry out of humiliation and hang up. But today, he clearly had more to say. “That guy just now… is he your new boyfriend? His voice sounded familiar. Do I know him?” “Oliver.” I cut him off. “You’re crossing a line. You set the rules—we don’t ask about each other’s private lives.” I hung up the phone. Wesley walked back in right on cue. With that ridiculously handsome face, he didn’t say a word, just quietly waited for me to finish the water before picking up right where we left off. 4 The next morning, I threw off the covers and stepped out of bed. The moment my feet hit the floor, my legs gave out, and I nearly fell to my knees. Thinking about Wesley calling me “Sister” over and over last night, my face flushed hot. After washing up, I saw a bowl of pork and century egg congee and a veggie-cheese omelet on the dining table. I took a spoonful. It tasted amazing. I picked up my phone and called Oliver first to confirm he was at the office. Then, I dialed my lawyer. “Attorney Hayes, remember that divorce case I asked you to look into? Prepare the paperwork. We’re heading to Grant Corp shortly.” “Understood, Miss Sterling.” He paused. “You mentioned before that this case wasn’t urgent. Did something change?” “You saw the trending news yesterday, right? When an opportunity delivers itself to your doorstep, you take it.” Grant Corp, 38th floor. “Stella, post a tweet saying you went to the cathedral with us yesterday, but you rested in the car. Say you and Bella are close friends and that the internet rumors are false.” “Do you speak without using your brain now?” I took a sip of the coffee in front of me. Anyone could hear the mockery dripping from my voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stop being unreasonable. If Grant Corp’s stock drops, we both lose.” “Watch your phrasing. We don’t lose. I am the victim.” Oliver stretched his legs out. “I know you felt wronged by this. We agreed to an open marriage, but I went too far this time and didn’t consider your public image. You didn’t accept my compensation offer, so I’ll be more careful next time.” “Let’s get a divorce.” Oliver frowned, confusion in his eyes. “Divorce? Just because I got Bella a pendant?” He suddenly laughed, pulled an identical silver pendant from his pocket, and placed it in front of me. “I promise the trending drama won’t happen again. As for Bella, don’t hold a grudge against her. She’s just a kid, and you’re a grown woman.” I sneered and introduced the man beside me. “This is my attorney. My terms for the divorce are 20% of Grant Corp’s shares, plus a 70/30 split of all our joint assets. 70 for me, 30 for you.” The usually arrogant, composed Oliver completely dropped his smile after hearing my demands. “Bella only has two months left to live, and you’re forcing me to abandon her at a time like this?” “Don’t flatter yourself. If you don’t understand English, I can have Grant Corp’s legal team and translation department come in to explain it to you.” He didn’t speak. A minute passed. “Stella, are you serious?” “Out of all the women, why are you relentlessly targeting Bella?” “Don’t even think about the divorce. It’s impossible!” His refusal was exactly what I expected. I replied, “Right now, the entire internet is waiting for me to respond to your scandal with Bella. If you refuse the divorce and my terms, just sit back and watch Grant Corp’s stock hit rock bottom.” Oliver flew into a rage, but within seconds, he forced himself to calm down. “Mutual destruction does you no good. Don’t forget, you have a man on the side too.” “True. Unfortunately, you don’t have proof. But I do have high-def photos of you and Bella passionately kissing in underground parking lots, plus the receipts for every piece of real estate, jewelry, and luxury item you’ve bought her. Once those go public, your flawless CEO persona will crumble, and the stock will tank. Sure, it’ll impact me a bit, but I couldn’t care less.” I glanced at Attorney Hayes, who immediately produced a thick stack of photos. Every angle of Oliver and Bella you could imagine. The veins on Oliver’s forehead bulged. “Stella! You really are something. You’ve been preparing this for a long time.” I leaned lazily back in my chair, offering a faint smile. “So? Are we divorcing, or not?” “We’re divorcing!” 5 On the day of the divorce, the usually gloomy, rainy city suddenly cleared up. The paperwork was processed quickly. I slipped the official divorce decree into my designer bag. Walking out of the courthouse lobby, Oliver stared at me with ice-cold eyes. I knew he wasn’t going to swallow this loss easily. “Stella, how are you going to explain this divorce to your father?” I frowned. “A good ex-husband should act like he’s dead. Don’t worry about my business.” He laughed bitterly. “Fine. I just hope Richard doesn’t call me complaining.” He heavily emphasized my father’s name. “If you block him, you won’t get his calls.” “Sister, why are you talking like that? I grew up without a father. You have no idea how much I envy your family. Why don’t you cherish it?” Bella, who had been lingering near Oliver, eagerly ran over when she saw us walk out. I sneered. “You don’t need to envy me anymore. My family is yours now.” Bella bit her lower lip, unsure if it was out of embarrassment or anger. Oliver shielded her behind him. “She’s sick. Is it really necessary to talk to her like that? Forget it, let’s not argue. You need to post a public statement immediately saying we had an amicable split and that Bella was not the other woman.” “I can do that.” That was one of Oliver’s conditions for the divorce. In exchange, I had bumped the 20% of shares up to 23%. A very fair trade. After posting the tweet, Oliver turned to leave. Just before walking away, he offered some cynical advice: “Stella, don’t let some random guy on the outside sweet-talk you into losing your mind. Do they actually love you, or do they just want your money?” As soon as the words left his mouth, an imposing black Maybach pulled up aggressively right in front of us. I watched Wesley step out of the car. The black dress shirt made him look even more untamed and arrogant. He walked toward me carrying a massive bouquet of red roses. “Sister, did you really divorce him for me?” My eyebrow twitched. How did this become about him? But I didn’t deny it. He pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss, completely ignoring the people around us. Oliver recognized the familiar voice from the phone call the other night. “Stella! Since when have you been hooking up with Wesley Vance?!” Hearing his outburst, Wesley finally let me go. “Oliver, I really have to thank you. So, I brought a gift for you today too.” Oliver tried to refuse. Wesley didn’t give him the chance. He unlocked his phone. “The guy who filmed the video of you two at the cathedral? That was me.” Oliver’s face darkened, his jaw tight, his eyes like ice. “You two set me up?” I was shocked. I honestly had no idea Wesley filmed that video. “If I didn’t set you up, how could I get to be with Stella?” Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Very well! Stella, you better watch your back!” “What is wrong with you? Just because you tell me to watch my back, I have to? What, you think your face is more intimidating than anyone else’s?” I got into Wesley’s car. Under Oliver’s furious and Bella’s utterly confused gazes, we sped away. 6 On the drive back, my dad called and demanded I get my ass home immediately. As soon as I hung up, Valerie called. I answered, and before I could speak, she fired off like a machine gun: “You divorced Mr. Grant?! What do you mean ‘amicable split’?! What kind of deal did you make with him?! And what the hell is going on between you and Mr. Vance?! Explain everything right now! You disappear for days, you refuse to post on social media, and when you finally do, it’s a bombshell divorce statement! Do you know how many sponsors are blowing up my phone right now?! If we don’t handle this PR nightmare, you won’t get a single endorsement for the next six months!” “We’re divorced. It’s amicable enough. I got what I wanted, and Oliver paid a heavy price.” I deliberately skipped the question about Wesley. Valerie had been in the entertainment industry for years. She was sharper than anyone. “Then what is going on with you and Mr. Vance?” Seeing I couldn’t avoid it, I sighed. “It’s a long story. It’s complicated. Just don’t ask.” I hung up. The car had mysteriously parked outside my family’s house. Wesley stared at me with pure grievance in his eyes. “Sister, you’re divorced now. Do I still not deserve to be your official boyfriend?” I reached out and ruffled his perfectly styled hair. “Be good. Go home for now.” I got out of the car. As soon as I walked into the living room, a porcelain teacup was hurled directly at me. The atmosphere in the house was incredibly tense. The maids kept their heads down, pretending to work, but secretly glancing my way. “You ungrateful brat! Who gave you permission to get a divorce?!” I looked at my biological father, Richard Thorne, who had thrown the cup. He pointed a trembling finger at me, unleashing a barrage of scolding. Thinking about the massive portfolio of assets I now held, I offered a faint smile. “It’s my own marriage. Why the hell do I need your permission to end it?” Richard pointed at me in utter disbelief. “Y-You… what did you say?! Say that to my face again!” “I said, whether I divorce or not has absolutely nothing to do with you.” My voice dropped lower, turning icy. The living room fell into a heavy silence. The first to break it was Martha. Years ago, Richard and Martha had an affair while he was still married to my mom. After putting my mom in the hospital with rage, he even went to her hospital bed to demand a divorce. Just two weeks after my mother passed away, Richard moved Martha into our house, bringing along a younger sister, Mia, who was only two months younger than me. “Stella, what kind of way is that to speak? Your father is just looking out for you. Apologize to him immediately. Tearing the family apart like this is embarrassing.” I ignored her. Martha offered an awkward, strained smile. She paused, then cut to the chase. “Stella, you divorced Oliver. What kind of settlement did he give you?” “Ah. So that’s the real reason you demanded I come home so urgently, isn’t it?” Richard’s face was cold. “All you do is play around in Hollywood. Do you even know what’s happening to the family? The company is facing a severe cash flow crisis. Transfer the settlement money to the company immediately to tide us over. I’ll pay you back later.” Martha chimed in, playing the perfect supporting role. “Exactly. You’ve been so busy filming, we didn’t want to burden you with these annoying family issues. Your father has been working himself to the bone these past few years. It breaks my heart to see.” Watching her fake crocodile tears made me sick. “Since you feel so bad for him, why don’t you hand total control of the company over to me? I’ll give you a generous monthly stipend so you can comfortably enjoy your retirement.” Martha’s face changed. She replied stiffly, “Stella loves to joke. You’re doing so well in the entertainment industry, how could you just quit?” “I’m not joking. This time, I am officially retiring from the entertainment industry to take over my grandfather’s company.” My grandfather’s company. Those words clearly triggered Richard. Back in the day, he was a poor man who married into my mother’s wealthy family. He endured countless eye-rolls and insults. Over the years, he gradually seized complete control of the company and rebranded it as Thorne Group. He had probably convinced himself he built it from scratch. “You insolent brat! Get out of my house!” Richard pointed at the door, panting heavily in sheer rage. “Don’t get so worked up. You wouldn’t want to have a stroke and never wake up.” He tried to say something else, but Martha grabbed his arm. “The doctor said you can’t get angry! I’ll talk to Stella. I’ll handle her.” The two of them completely ignored my presence, exchanging meaningful looks. Martha turned to me, looking incredibly distressed. “Stella, you know how your father is. Bark is worse than his bite. He cares about you deeply. The company is truly facing a massive hurdle this time. You have spare cash. As his daughter, you should help him out. We heard Oliver also gave you shares in Grant Corp. You clearly don’t care about managing a business. Why don’t you transfer those shares to your father? After we pass away, all this money will go to you and your sister anyway.” I felt like I was listening to the funniest joke in the world. “My mother only had one daughter. Where the hell did I get a sister?” “Every cent the Thorne family currently holds was left to me by my grandfather and my mother. What does it have to do with you?” “You’ve lived in this house for so long, you’ve actually forgotten your place as a homewrecker, haven’t you?” The anger Richard had just suppressed flared up again. I cut him off before he could speak. “I’ll give you three days to move out of my house. Otherwise, I’m calling the police and reporting you for trespassing.” I checked the time on my watch, turned, and walked away. I completely ignored the furious curses and the sound of breaking porcelain crashing against the floor behind me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418548”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I was seven months pregnant, I discovered that Caleb Sterling had a “soulmate.” They were perfectly in sync, sharing thoughts and secrets I was no longer privy to. Every day, Caleb would buy two bouquets of lilies—one for me, and one for her. He swore they never crossed the line. Until that woman sent him a text: [If you had met me first, would you have married me?] Caleb didn’t reply. Instead, he stood on the balcony and smoked until the sun came up. 01 Caleb was distracted all day today. Several times he looked like he wanted to say something, but the words seemed to die in his throat. Finally, I was the one who broke the silence. “Is something wrong?” Caleb let out a heavy sigh. “I have to go to Philly for a business trip. I’ll be back tomorrow. But you’re so close to your due date… Forget it, I’ll send someone else.” I watched him as he spoke. He sounded sincere, his eyes meeting mine without flinching. I shook my head. “It’s fine. You should go.” “But you’ll be alone.” “I’ll have my mom come over.” Since I got pregnant, Caleb had been the picture of the perfect husband. He was meticulous, overprotective, and had canceled almost all his social engagements just to stay by my side. “If anything happened and I wasn’t here, I’d never forgive myself,” he used to say. Even if he absolutely had to leave, he would wait until my mother arrived, giving her a thousand instructions on how to care for me until she laughed at his mothering. But today, he only hesitated for two seconds before nodding. “Okay. Take care of yourself. Call me if anything happens.” He was in a hurry. He packed a single change of clothes and rushed out. I sat on the sofa, unmoving. I even managed a smile and a wave as he looked back one last time. But the moment the door clicked shut, my posture collapsed. Caleb was acting strange. From start to finish, everything was off. But I didn’t ask a single extra question. Because I knew exactly where he was going. And who he was going to see. 02 At first, I didn’t even know her name. I only knew her as “The Cafe Owner.” Caleb called her Piper. I first saw her a year ago, before I was pregnant. I was waiting for Caleb at a new boutique coffee shop right below his office building. I hadn’t told him I was coming, planning to surprise him for lunch. Then he walked in. The woman behind the counter, who had been leaning lazily against the espresso machine, straightened up immediately. Caleb gave her a small nod. She smiled and flashed him an ‘OK’ sign. It was a silent, terrifying kind of chemistry. The kind that makes two people feel like they were written in the stars. But at the time, the feeling only flickered in my mind for a second before I dismissed it. Caleb saw me and was genuinely surprised. “Waiting for our lunch date,” I told him. “Why didn’t you call?” “I didn’t want to interrupt your flow,” I said, then tilted my head. “Why are you down here?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Work is a mess. I needed a walk and some caffeine. Their artisanal cookies are incredible—you have to try one.” He raised a hand. “Piper, one more order of the sea-salt chocolate chip!” Meeting her curious gaze, Caleb smiled. “This is my wife, Sloane.” That day, they were both so transparent. Caleb was open with the introduction. Piper was gracious, even waiving our bill. Caleb said the coffee was authentic and that he’d set up the company’s standing catering order with her. One visit became many. They became “familiar.” Back then, I thought they were just a shopkeeper and a regular. I didn’t know that those specific cookies weren’t actually for sale to the public. And I didn’t know that Piper would eventually text my husband: [If you had met me first, would you have married me?] 03 Caleb texted me at 10 PM. He said he’d just finished work and was checking into his hotel. He said he was too exhausted for a FaceTime call. He told me to take care of myself and to call if I needed anything. I replied normally, telling him not to worry. Then I called the cafe. A young barista answered. I used a familiar tone and asked for Piper. “Oh, she’s out!” the girl chirped. “She left early this afternoon. It’s her birthday today. I think she’s on a date—someone sent her a massive bouquet of red roses. So romantic!” I nodded to the empty room, hung up, and set my phone down. New York is a massive city, but finding two people isn’t that hard if you have the right tools. Before Caleb left, I had slipped a small GPS tracker into his laptop bag. It was actually part of a high-end health-monitoring watch he had bought for me in my fourth month. I had suffered from severe morning sickness and anemia; I’d even fainted in a mall once. Caleb had been terrified. He’d bought the most expensive tech to monitor my vitals and track my location for emergencies. The tracking was precise. And right now, it showed he had been on the 12th floor of a luxury hotel for exactly three hours. I didn’t rush over in the middle of the night. I was twenty-three days away from my due date. I had to choose myself. I poured out the cold coffee, drank a glass of warm milk, and lay down on the bed, listening to white noise. But I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the night a month ago when I first looked at his phone. He had been so agitated lately. He’d cut his finger peeling an apple for me. He’d smashed a glass while pouring water. He’d even kicked a chair across the room in a dark mood. He apologized, claiming it was just the stress of a new merger. But when I woke up in the middle of the night, his side of the bed was cold. I found him on the balcony, chain-smoking in the dark. I unlocked his phone with a heavy heart. He hadn’t closed the messaging app. The contact was saved only as ‘P.’ The message had arrived that afternoon. [If you had met me first, would you have married me?] Caleb hadn’t replied. Not a single word. But that night, my heart died inside his phone. 04 I arrived at the hotel at 6 AM with my ID and our marriage certificate. I placed them on the front desk. “Caleb Sterling is my husband. I need to know which room he’s in. If you can’t tell me, I’ll call the police and report a missing person.” I didn’t have the energy for a long debate. I was exhausted—physically, mentally, soul-deep. The receptionist stared at me for a long time. Her gaze shifted from shock to hesitation, and finally, to pity. “One moment, Mrs. Sterling. I’ll check that for you.” She gave me the room number and asked if I needed an escort. I smiled and shook my head. I stroked my swollen belly and took the elevator up. Caleb didn’t make me wait long. I had only been standing outside the door for forty minutes when it clicked open. Caleb stood there, hand on the knob. And behind him, a pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist. “Caleb, thank you for last night. I’ll remember it for the rest of my…” The rest of her what? She didn’t finish. Caleb shoved her away in a panic the moment he saw me. He stepped toward me. I looked past him. Piper was sitting on the floor, her silk slip barely covering her. She was staring at Caleb’s back with a look of pure heartbreak and grievance. “Sloane!” Caleb’s voice was trembling. So was mine. My hands, hidden behind my back, wouldn’t stop shaking. I thought I was prepared for this. I thought I could be calm. But standing there, I realized I could barely keep my balance. “Where’s the car?” I asked. “In the garage.” “Let’s go.” I leaned against the wall for support and turned toward the elevators. Caleb tried to reach for me. “Don’t touch me!” I hissed. His hand froze. He followed me like a ghost. Piper ran out into the hallway after us. “Mrs. Sterling, you don’t have to act like this! There’s nothing dirty between Caleb and me!” She sounded so righteous, so defiant. The moment the words left her mouth, I turned and slapped him. Hard. Crack. “Ah!” Piper screamed. “How could you hit him?” She reached out, wanting to touch the red mark on Caleb’s face. Caleb flinched away. He looked at me with pleading eyes. “Sloane, let’s just go home.” Piper clenched her fists, glaring at me. “If you have a problem, take it out on me! Why are you hitting Caleb?” “Shut up,” Caleb snapped. He didn’t even look at Piper. His eyes were fixed on me. “Sloane, please. Let’s go home.” 05 “Sloane, I can explain. “Yesterday was Piper’s birthday. She doesn’t have anyone in the city, and she begged me to stay. “I just stayed for her birthday. Nothing happened. “I lied to you, and I’m sorry. I was just afraid you’d be upset. “I was wrong. If it bothers you, I’ll never see her again. “She’s just a friend.” From the moment we got home, Caleb hadn’t stopped talking. Explaining. Apologizing. Self-flagellating. I wanted to speak. But my throat felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton. I couldn’t get a single word out. I didn’t know where to start. Finally, I managed one sentence. “Caleb, I want a divorce.” Caleb flinched as if I’d struck him again. He balled his hands into fists and closed his eyes tight. “Nothing happened between us, Sloane. We just drank and talked. Please, don’t do this. I know you’re angry, and I’ll take any punishment you want. But you have to believe me. I haven’t betrayed you.” “What does ‘betrayal’ mean to you?” I asked quietly. “You probably hugged. You probably kissed. You smell like her perfume. And right here…” I pointed to his lip. “A bite mark.” Caleb froze. His lips thinned into a hard line. I looked at him with pure despair. “What’s the next step? Getting caught in the act? You spent the entire night in a hotel room together. How am I supposed to trust you? Caleb, how?” Caleb’s head dropped. He sank to one knee in front of me, wanting to touch me but not daring to. “I was stupid. I had a moment of madness. But I swear, it went no further. Please, for the sake of all our years together… for the sake of the baby… give me one more chance.” It was pathetic. He knew exactly how long we had been together. He knew our child was about to be born. And yet he did it anyway. And now he wanted to use those very things as leverage for a pardon. The layers of grief, the memories of a decade, the crushing weight of the present—it all came crashing down. I looked around the room, then at my stomach. I started to sob. It wasn’t a pretty cry; it was the sound of a wounded animal. Caleb panicked, trying to shield me. “Sloane, Sloane, what is it? What are you looking for? Tell me? I’ll find it!” His voice was the match that lit the fuse. “I want a divorce!” I screamed. “I’m leaving you!” 06 This was the fourth year of our marriage. We had been so happy when we found out I was pregnant. But it had been a nightmare from the start. The morning sickness was so violent I couldn’t keep anything down. My body was failing. I cried every single day. It was so hard that there were moments I thought I’d rather die. We had even considered not keeping the baby. But when the first signs of a threatened miscarriage appeared, we both panicked. I spent a month in the hospital. Those early months were a blur of malnutrition, anemia, and that terrifying fainting spell. “Chaotic” didn’t even cover it. This little life seemed so fragile. And yet so stubborn. I was terrified that the stress of this would trigger a premature birth. I was already prepared to call 911 at any second. I didn’t dare throw things. I didn’t dare scream. I even tried to hold back my tears. Until I couldn’t anymore. The reaction was violent—I started vomiting. I knelt on the bathroom floor, clutching the toilet, feeling like my internal organs were being rearranged. Caleb pounded on the door. He begged me to open up. He roared at me, telling me not to gamble with my life or the baby’s. I held my stomach, looking pathetic. I had wanted to end this with dignity. But the moment Caleb started drifting, my dignity was already being trampled in the dirt. Caleb called my parents. I only opened the door when I heard my mother’s voice. My father, usually the most mild-mannered man, looked at Caleb with a face of ice. “Is this how you treat my daughter?” They took me away. Caleb couldn’t stop them. My father asked me, “What do you want to do?” “I want a divorce,” I whispered. He was silent for a long time. “Then get one.” That night, my mother slept beside me. She held me, patting my back gently, but she didn’t ask a single question. The silent support of my parents allowed me to finally go numb. The next morning, Caleb was at the door. He brought breakfast, forcing a smile for my parents. They just nodded and left the house. They gave us space. Caleb held out a bowl of the soup I liked, looking at me like a kicked puppy. “Sloane, please eat something.” I kept my face blank. “Caleb, we need to talk.” 07 Where to even begin? “I gave you chances,” I said. “I even tried to pretend it didn’t happen.” Caleb looked at me, confused. I let out a hollow laugh. “That day Piper asked you if you’d marry her if you’d met her first… you were so anxious, so angry. You couldn’t sleep. You spent the whole night smoking on the balcony. That’s when I looked at your phone.” I’ve always believed that checking a partner’s phone is the beginning of the end. Once you do it, the trust is gone. And if there’s no trust, why be together? But here I was. Caleb stiffened. He instinctively leaned back. The posture of someone wanting to run. He balled his fists and took a deep breath. “But I didn’t reply to her.” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “I know. And that hurts more than if you had.” The suffocating silence returned. Caleb tried to speak several times. Finally, he said, “If you saw the messages, you know we never crossed the line before. I only ever saw her as a friend. The other night… we drank too much. We were reckless. But that was it. I never betrayed you, Sloane.” I didn’t look at him. I just stared at the wall. “April 3rd. The day of the anatomy scan. The first time we could really see what the baby looked like. I was so excited. You said you couldn’t make it because of a high-stakes board meeting. But you were hiking in the Catskills with Piper. “Every morning, you buy two bouquets of baby’s breath. One for her, one for me. Except for Valentine’s Day. That day, you bought her nineteen red roses. “The private elevator in your office requires a keycard. Piper complained about waiting for the public one, so you gave her your spare. “You told me your shoulder was aching from the gym, and she went to a specialist to get you custom medicated patches. I asked you about the smell of menthol, and you told me you bought them at a pharmacy. “On your birthday, after I fell asleep at midnight, you went downstairs. Piper gave you a pair of cufflinks. She asked if she was the first person to wish you a happy birthday. You said yes. “Your shorthand with her: She says [Go?], you say [Go!]. She says [Penthouse], you reply [1]. She says [Tired], you say [Coming now]. “The day you got the new car, you took her for the test drive. She told you people thought you were a couple, and you sent a ‘blushing’ emoji followed by a screen full of ‘Hahaha.’ “You spend twenty-seven minutes on the phone with her every day on your commute home. Except for when we were first dating, we’ve never talked that much. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?” The Caleb who talked to Piper was a stranger to me. No, that’s not right. He was the Caleb I remembered from college. Bright, talkative, even a little childish. But that version of him no longer belonged to me. The realization felt like a thousand ants crawling under my skin. Caleb’s head hung lower. “I just saw her as a friend,” he whispered, his voice devoid of conviction. “Sometimes I was just tired and needed someone to talk to. It was just talking. Sloane, what do I have to do to make you believe me?” “Caleb, do you know how much I wished you had just had a physical affair? Your ‘connection,’ your ‘understanding’… it’s a guillotine hanging over my head. I’ve been waiting for it to fall, living in terror. I tried to close my eyes. I debated if I could just live with it. “But I can’t. The moment you leave my sight, I wonder if you’re with her. I wonder what you’re saying. The suspicion is eating me alive. I’m going crazy, Caleb! You’re driving me insane!” I sobbed, my voice cracking. That last month and a half had been a living hell. I felt like I was losing my mind. Until he agreed to spend that night with her. She said: [Maybe this will help me move on. Caleb, please. Just one night.] Caleb replied: [Okay.] In that moment, the blade finally fell. “I want a divorce.” 08 Caleb wouldn’t agree. He said he’d do anything, make any sacrifice, except that. He started coming to my parents’ house every day. When they wouldn’t let him in, he sat in his car. He’d stay there all day. We were both bleeding out. It was only then that I realized how hard it is to get a divorce in this country. Without a mutual agreement, it’s a legal war. Mediation, filings, court dates. If it isn’t “at-fault,” it could take a year or more. But I was about to give birth. I couldn’t wait a month, let alone a year. I had to endure. It made me anxious, insomniac, and prone to fits of rage. One morning, when Caleb tried to hand me a bag of groceries at the door, I lost it. I grabbed the warm oatmeal he’d brought and threw it at him. It soaked his expensive suit. Caleb shook with anger. “What the hell do you want from me? I’ve admitted I was wrong. I’ve apologized. I’ve sworn it’ll never happen again. Why can’t you let it go? Am I really that unforgivable? After everything we’ve been through, you won’t give me a single chance? Sloane, stop being so dramatic!” My ears started ringing. My hand on the doorframe lost its strength, and I began to slide down. “Caleb, please… just stop disgusting me.” That was the last thing I said to him before I blacked out. My mother told me later I had a massive hemorrhage. Emergency C-section. It was a close call. But we both survived. Caleb’s mother flew in from London. She held my hand, her face full of pity. “You’ve been through so much. Why didn’t you call me? Caleb… well, he’s learned his lesson. He’s been crying in the stairwell for days.” I was too tired to speak. My mother was the one who pulled my hand away from hers. “Mrs. Sterling, if you really care about Sloane, tell your son to sign the papers. Stop the torture.” Caleb’s mother stiffened. “Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Couples have friction. Caleb was wrong, and I’ll make him apologize. But marriage is a marathon. There are bumps in the road. And now that the baby is here, for her sake…” They went on and on. I stopped listening. I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep. I had always respected Caleb’s mother. She had been good to me. But when the storm hits, a mother always protects her own. In her eyes—and in Caleb’s—I was the one blowing things out of proportion. Caleb wasn’t allowed in the room, so he stood in the hallway. My father wouldn’t let him in. He didn’t cause a scene. He just waited. Occasionally, he’d beg to see the baby. My mother caved a few times, taking the baby out while I was asleep. I knew. I just pretended I didn’t. I couldn’t erase the blood tie between them. Life is long. Could I really stop them from ever seeing each other? Caleb’s persistence was working. My parents were wavering. Looking at the baby, they’d sigh. “Maybe…” my mom whispered, “maybe you should reconsider?” 09 The isolation of being the only one who remembered the pain was agonizing. How could I explain it? If it were anyone else, maybe. But not Caleb. I had loved him so much. I had been so pure in my expectation of our family. And he stabbed me right when I was most vulnerable. The betrayal of a soulmate is a wound that never heals. I can’t spend the rest of my life with him. Why wait until the marriage is a rotted corpse to walk away?

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In the third year of our marriage, my husband’s mistress was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Logan, a man who had never stepped foot in a church or believed in anything higher than a stock ticker, personally went to the National Cathedral. He knelt at every altar, lighting candles and praying for a miracle. The story broke the internet. Everyone was talking about the “devoted” man and his “tragic” love. He called me to explain: “It’s her final wish, Jade. I couldn’t say no to a dying girl.” I smiled to myself and hung up. Then, I turned back to the sheets, tangling again with Silas Thorne—the rebellious, billionaire heir of the Thorne empire. 01 I was curled up on the sofa reading a script when Logan returned from his business trip. He looked rattled. His expression was loose, his eyes darting around the room. The atmosphere between us felt like ice. I kicked off my slippers and asked, “Why so late?” Logan walked past me without a word. As we brushed shoulders, I caught the faint, clinical scent of antiseptic. “Did you go to the hospital?” “Just visiting a friend,” he said, his voice flat. I frowned, but I didn’t push him. I figured he was just exhausted from the flight. Later that night, I showered and changed into a silk slip, spritzing a bit of perfume on my neck. We had been in a cold war since before his trip because of his sudden pressure to get pregnant. I wanted to end the silence. I walked into the bedroom and sat on his lap. For a second, his body went rigid. But we had been together for years; I knew exactly how to move. Within moments, we were breathless. Logan’s face was flushed, his breathing ragged against my ear. I thought this was our “makeup” night. But then, his phone on the nightstand chimed repeatedly. Before I could glance at the screen, Logan grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that felt forced, designed to keep me from turning around. Suddenly, he pulled away entirely, his brow furrowed. “Something came up at the office. I have to handle it now. Go to sleep.” I looked at him, confused and annoyed. “It’s midnight, Logan. What could be so urgent?” He didn’t give me a chance to get angry. He grabbed his phone and locked himself in the study, leaving me cold and bewildered in the middle of the bed. Logan had never been like this. Eight years of dating, three years of marriage. He used to leave his phone on silent the moment he walked through the front door. He never prioritized work over me. Maybe it really is an emergency, I tried to tell myself. I tried to shake the feeling, pulling my robe back over my shoulders. As I stood up, I noticed Logan’s iPad was still active on the nightstand. Driven by a gut feeling, I leaned over. The screen was open to an Instagram “alt” account. I scrolled through the posts. It was a digital diary of our relationship, starting from our college days. Seeing the old photos made me smile. Until I reached the very top. The latest post. “I finally realized that the only person in the world who truly, selflessly loves me is Lily.” I froze. I tapped on the comments. A user named @Lily_Vance had left a single heart-eyes emoji. “Logan, you never change.” Logan had replied thirty minutes ago: “Rest up. I’m coming.” Lily replied: “I’m so happy. I missed you so much. I feel like I can’t live without you anymore. What am I going to do?” Lily Vance. The girl who had been stalking and chasing Logan for ten years. 02 Lily appeared in Logan’s life a year after I did. She was a freshman when we were seniors. She claimed she fell in love with Logan at first sight during orientation and asked for his number in front of everyone. Logan had politely turned her down. “Sorry, I have a girlfriend.” That night, I had teased him about it. He leaned down, cupping my face with his hands, his eyes soft. “I don’t have eyes for anyone but you, Jade.” But then, Lily started showing up everywhere. She was at every basketball game, cheering for him until her voice went hoarse. She would do full “clean girl” makeup looks that looked ridiculous under the stadium lights—thick white foundation that didn’t match her neck, and bright pink blush that made her look like a doll. She ignored the whispers of the crowd, shouting, “Go Logan! You’re the best!” My roommate nudged me, smirking. “Your boyfriend sure attracts the crazies.” “At least the competition isn’t very threatening,” I joked. After the game, Lily would be the first to run toward him with a Gatorade. It made me uncomfortable, but Logan always walked straight past her to me. He’d wipe the sweat from his hands before putting an arm around my shoulder. “Hey, Jade. Dinner with the team?” He never even looked at her. I’d look back at the girl. She’d be standing there, clutching her skirt, looking down at her feet. This happened for four years. Lily’s obsession made her a local legend—a joke, really. She was the “stalker girl” everyone used to mock over drinks. Logan blocked her number a hundred times. He never gave her an inch. One day, she sat directly across from us in the dining hall and smiled, asking if she could join the table. Logan’s face went dark. He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was lethal. “I’ve been polite because you’re a girl, but let me be clear: my girlfriend is sitting right here. You’re making a fool of yourself. Don’t you have any dignity?” “Even if Jade and I broke up tomorrow, I would never look at you.” “You are exactly the type of person I despise.” Lily’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “I’m just following my heart. What’s wrong with that?” The tears washed tracks through her foundation. It was pathetic. I told her, “Take the hint, Lily. Go back to your dorm, have a cry, and focus on your GPA. Or find a guy who’s actually single. This is embarrassing.” When she finally stumbled away, Logan exhaled a long breath. “God, she’s exhausting. I should have been meaner sooner.” I kissed him, thinking that was the end of the drama. I was wrong. Six months later, Lily managed to transfer into the same graduate research program as Logan. Logan still ignored her, but because they shared a mentor, he was forced to have her on his contact list. He would show me his phone every night to prove he never replied to her. Eventually, we graduated, got married, and stayed happy. Logan worked at a high-end research institute. Lily seemed to vanish. I thought she had finally given up. Until Logan’s colleague ran into her in the oncology ward. 03 In our three years of marriage, Logan had been the perfect husband. So when did it change? Lily had undergone surgery. Their mentor organized a small group to visit her. She had breast cancer. It was aggressive. Because of her depression and physical weakness, she had been refusing treatment. When Logan came home from the hospital visit, we had some colleagues over for dinner. A junior researcher laughed and said to me, “Jade, you should have seen it. Lily is literally on her deathbed and she’s still obsessed. The way she looked at Logan… it was like she saw a god.” “The girl is mentally ill,” another added. “Stalking a man for a decade? Crazy.” “She’s nothing compared to Jade,” a younger girl said, hugging my arm. “You and Logan are the blueprint.” They laughed and gossiped about Lily’s past antics. I just gave a tight smile. “Alright, let’s leave it. She’s sick.” I didn’t notice Logan’s face darkening. But when someone mentioned how Logan used to throw the lunches she made him into the trash, Logan slammed his fork down. “That’s enough!” The table went silent. Four or five people stared at him in shock. I stepped in. “Logan just thinks we should focus on the food. Try the roast, guys.” The mood recovered, but no one mentioned Lily again. At midnight, after the guests left, I went into the bedroom to finally talk to him. Logan was leaning against the headboard, staring at his phone. The light from the screen cast a soft, almost tender glow on his face. When he heard me enter, he snapped the phone shut. His face turned to stone. “I have more work. I’m sleeping in the study tonight.” Usually, after I’d been away on a trip, we were inseparable. Now, he was freezing me out for the third night in a row. “What is going on with you?” I demanded. He avoided my eyes. “Work is just heavy.” “Work wasn’t heavy for the others at dinner. Just you?” I reached for his phone. “Let me see.” Logan flinched, hiding the phone behind his back. “Stop being dramatic, Jade. I’m busy.” I didn’t listen. I lunged for it. In the struggle, the phone hit the floor and the screen lit up with a notification. “Are you not coming to stay with me tonight? I’m used to sleeping alone, but I’m scared.” “The doctor says if I stay stable, I can go home in a few days. But without you, I don’t think I can make it through the next surgery.” “Logan… if I get better, can I give you the son you’ve always wanted?” Logan shoved me back and snatched the phone. I stood there, my breath hitching. I didn’t think. I just slapped him. “How long has this been going on?” My voice was hoarse. “She has cancer, Logan. Do you have any common sense left? Or have you lost your mind?” Logan gritted his teeth. “We haven’t done anything!” “Nothing? She’s offering to have your children!” I suddenly realized why he had been pushing for a baby. We had agreed to be child-free when we got married. But lately, his mother had been pestering him for a grandson. Logan had started wavering, trying to convince me to quit my job and “prepare.” He knew my history. He knew I watched my own mother die in a hospital bed from a traumatic birth. Marriage and childbirth were my biggest fears. I only married Logan because he promised me a life without that pressure. He even promised to get a vasectomy. And now, I was up for a major promotion at the law firm. I couldn’t go back to being a housewife. We had fought about this for weeks. Was it really that simple? Because Lily was willing to die to give him a child? Logan turned his face away. “Enough, Jade. I don’t want to fight.” “She’s a terminal patient. She has nothing. I’m just looking after her. Why do you have to be so petty?” “I have work. I’m leaving.” I sat alone on the sofa. I found that alt account on Instagram again. He had updated. A photo of a girl’s head resting on his lap. “Get well soon.” Lily had commented with a laughing-crying emoji: “Why are you so eager? Are you ready to take my ‘first time’ finally?” 04 Logan didn’t come home for days. I slept alone. I dreamed of our wedding—Logan smiling, promising to always choose me. Then the dream would shift to him looking at me with pure irritation before walking away. I was tired of the cold war. I wanted a confrontation. But every time I called, his voice was like ice. “The lab is busy. We’ll talk when I’m back.” I couldn’t wait. I took a half-day off and went to the institute. His junior colleague looked at me with pity. “Logan? He took a week off. Said there was a family emergency.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I opened an app on my phone. When we first got married, Logan had installed a tracking app on both our phones. He said it was for my safety because we both worked late. I tracked his location. I got an address from a colleague. It was an apartment in a neighborhood slated for demolition. The walls were peeling, showing red brick and mold. Logan made a six-figure salary. Why was he here? I knocked. A raspy but cheerful voice answered. “Is that the food? Hurry up, I’m starving!” “I’ve got it, you little glutton.” The door opened. Logan and I locked eyes. He was wearing a bathrobe, his hair damp. I felt a sharp, stinging pain in my chest, but I forced a smile. “Sorry to interrupt the party.” I pushed past him into the room. Lily was lounging on the sofa in a slip dress. No bra. She was so thin her ribs were visible, but her neck was covered in faint pink hickeys. I looked at the bedroom. The bed was a disaster. And on the pale pink sheets, I saw a dark red stain. I felt like I was going to throw up. Lily looked surprised. “Jade? What are you doing here?” I didn’t answer her. I threw my designer bag straight at Logan’s face. “If you want a divorce, just say the word. I’ll give it to you.” “But this? This is fucking disgusting.” Logan stayed silent. The hardware on my bag had cut his cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood. Lily stumbled over, shielding him. She glared at me, her face full of defiance. I looked at her closely. She wasn’t pretty. The anemia made her skin look greyish-yellow. Her freckles were dark against her pale face. She looked like a corpse. I couldn’t understand how Logan could touch her. Lily started crying. “Jade, you’ve had him for ten years! Can’t you just give me a few days?” “I’m giving him my entire life. I just want him by my side as I die. Is that too much to ask?” “I love him. I…” She didn’t finish. She coughed up a spray of blood onto the floor. I looked at the blood on my coat. I felt nothing but a cold, heavy exhaustion. Logan pushed me aside and scooped Lily up. He roared at me, “She just had surgery! She can’t get worked up! What is wrong with you?!” He grabbed his keys to take her to the ER. Lily nestled into his chest like a frightened rabbit. “Logan,” I said, my voice hollow. “Are you really choosing to walk out on your wife right now?” Logan paused, his jaw tight. “Lily has no one. Her parents are gone. She’s dying. You… you have your career, your family. You’ll be fine without me.” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “So it’s my fault for being healthy? My fault for being independent?” Logan didn’t answer. I raised my hand to stop him from speaking. “Fine. Divorce.” 05 I took a deep breath and laid it all out. “Our salaries have always been separate, so we don’t need to split that. You rarely use the car, so I’m taking it. We bought the house together, but it goes to me. You’re the one who cheated; I’m entitled to damages.” Logan blinked. “I’m just taking care of her for a while, Jade. We don’t have to do this.” “What? You want to wait until she gets better or dies, then come crawling back to me? You want to force me to ‘forgive’ you for the sake of our history while I rot away as a bitter, suspicious wife? No.” I walked forward and yanked his robe open. His chest was covered in marks. The thought of them together made my stomach turn. “I already have the evidence of your affair and your cohabitation. You know I’m a lawyer. I’m good at this. Don’t waste my time.” “You’re so cold-blooded,” Lily piped up from his arms. She looked at me with pure malice. “You treat Logan like a defendant in a courtroom. Do you even have feelings for him?” “No wonder he chose me. You never gave him real love.” I didn’t bother replying to her. I just tilted my chin up. “Expect the papers by morning.” I grabbed my bag to leave. Logan called out behind me. “Jade! Every time we fight, you have to win. You never back down.” “Do you know what it’s like at the lab? Other wives bring their husbands lunch and clothes. I have nothing. I come home to an empty house. I asked you to quit, I told you I could support you, but you always chose your job over me.” “In college, having a high-achieving, beautiful girlfriend was a flex. I was proud of you.” “But now that we’re married, I just wanted a wife who cooks and takes care of the family. Is that a crime?” “Lily is different. She’s willing to do those things for me.” He slid his wedding ring off and threw it at my feet. “Fine. Have it your way. Good luck with your ‘limitless’ career.” The ring clattered on the concrete. My heart died right then and there. “If you wanted to use a PUA tactic on me, Logan, you should have tried harder. I’m not looking back.” The next day, I drafted the papers and faxed them to his office. Ten minutes later, a former colleague called me. “Jade? Did you and Logan break up?” “He didn’t tell you?” I was reviewing a brief. “He’s with his ‘gentle and sweet’ Lily now.” I heard a gasp, then a disgusted “Tsk.” “What an idiot. Leaving a wife like you for… her? Men are trash.” “Actually, Jade, I heard a secret at the lab today.” The girl lowered her voice. “Lily is actually our mentor’s niece. That’s why Dr. Harrison always gave her a pass. Her grad school admission was basically rigged.” I went silent. Logan’s career hadn’t been going well lately. He was the most senior researcher but his results were thin, and he was being passed over for promotions. He was ambitious and proud. He had been depressed for months. Was that when he started wavering? I realized that the man I had slept next to for years was even more disgusting than I thought. I went home to pack the rest of my things. I opened a drawer and saw a box of condoms. I felt a chill. I picked one up and looked closer. Every single wrapper had been pricked with a tiny needle. I dropped the box, grabbed my keys, and drove straight to a clinic for a blood test. When the results came back negative for pregnancy, I finally breathed. As I was leaving the hospital, I heard a familiar voice. Lily was standing outside the OB-GYN clinic. “Doctor, if my condition stabilizes, can I start trying to get pregnant?” 06 Lily turned around and we locked eyes. She gave me a slow, poisonous smile. Even with her gaunt face and sunken eyes, she had applied a bold red lipstick. She looked like a caricature. “Logan said he’ll marry me as soon as the divorce is final.” I ignored her. I had no interest in a public scene. But she followed me, grabbing my arm like a lunatic. “I told you, Jade. What’s wrong with following your heart? If you love someone long enough, they come around.” “You were just the college sweetheart. I’m the one he chose in the end.” “I’m willing to do anything for him. I love him more than you ever did. I even wrote a will leaving everything to him. When he saw it, his eyes went red. He held me so tight it hurt.” I stopped and looked at her coldly. “I think you have brain cancer, not breast cancer.” Lily acted like she didn’t hear me. She began shouting to the crowd of onlookers about how she “won” Logan’s heart. “He stayed with me for seven days while you were away on business!” “The nurses all thought he was my husband! He’s so devoted! When you called him, he lied just to keep me from getting upset!” “You’re the one who’s alone now, Jade. No parents, no husband. You’re pathetic!” Whatever grief I had left for the marriage evaporated. If it weren’t for my professional ethics and my upbringing, I would have slapped her right there. I walked out to the parking lot and saw Logan waiting by the curb. When he saw me, guilt flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by tenderness when he looked at Lily. I watched expressionlessly as Lily threw herself into his arms. They kissed in the middle of the sidewalk—a tall, handsome man and a shriveled, sickly girl who looked like a skeleton. A few bypassers even took photos, thinking it was a touching “sick-girl-reunited-with-hero-boyfriend” moment. I got into a cab and didn’t look back. The cold wind blew through the window, but I didn’t feel it until my phone started buzzing. My college group chat was blowing up. Someone had posted a screenshot of Lily’s Instagram. She had posted a photo of her clinging to Logan, her legs wrapped around his waist. The caption: “True love knows no timeline.” I let out a cold laugh and called my old roommate. I told her everything. “What is Logan thinking?” she asked. “Does he really want her ‘inheritance’?” “I heard Lily is drowning in debt. Debt collectors were calling her classmates last month. She doesn’t have an inheritance.” I paused. “Wait. Don’t researchers at that level make good money?” “I don’t know about that. All I know is that in college, Lily was always on financial aid. And in this city? She’s only been working a few years. How much could she possibly have saved?” I exhaled. “Whatever. I got the house. I’m done.” But after I hung up, I hired a private investigator to look into Lily’s “background.” It turned out she came from a family in the rural Midwest that treated women like property. She had promised to send them $20,000 a year just so they’d let her go to grad school. Her relatives had been showing up at her apartment demanding extra cash for years. No wonder she lived in a dump despite her salary. Between her family of leeches and her medical bills, she was likely broke. I laughed silently. Logan had some savings. I wondered if it would be enough to feed those parasites. 07 A few days later, the signed divorce papers arrived at my office. Included in the envelope was a wedding invitation. Red and gold. I glanced at the names, tossed it in the trash, and headed to the courthouse. Outside the building, I saw them again. They looked like Siamese twins. Lily was draped over Logan, ignoring everyone’s stares. Logan is 6’2”. Lily is barely 5’2”. She looked like she was trying to drag him down to the earth. We didn’t speak. We went in and got the decree. When I held the paper in my hand, Logan looked at me. He mouthed the words: “I’m sorry.” I just wanted to laugh. “Sorry” is such a cheap word. Right then, Lily leaned over the counter and asked the clerk, “My husband just got his divorce. Can we apply for a marriage license right now?” Her voice was loud, completely ignoring the people around her. I could feel the judgmental stares from the other couples in the lobby. The clerk looked between the three of us, her expression strained. “You can apply today, yes.” Lily couldn’t wait. She dragged Logan toward the next window. Logan looked humiliated. “Can’t we do this another day?” “The clerk said we can do it today! What’s the problem?” she snapped. “You promised! You said you’d marry me as soon as I got better. I’m better now!” “Don’t make me upset. The doctor said stress is bad for my recovery!” Logan opened his mouth to argue, then saw her face and shut it. I grabbed my bag and walked out. Lily shouted after me, “Jade! You got the invite, right? We’re getting married next month! I’m inviting all our old classmates! Make sure you show up!”

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