My name is Tabitha Wat, and my boyfriend is Remy Black. He has a girl friend named Elara Moore. Through careful maneuvering, she has schemed her way into marrying into a rich family in Briarwick, a prestigious clan. During the wedding reception, the young heirs of Briarwick bring out all sorts of props, ready to play pranks on the bride. The usually tough girl now stands with tearful eyes, casting a pleading glance at Remy. And the next thing I know, he pushes me forward. “Who cares who we play with? Don’t mess with the bride. Let’s play with the bridesmaid!” He whispers, trying to coax me. “Elara’s an internet celebrity marrying into a wealthy family. Anything posted online could ruin her reputation. You can take her place for a bit, and I’ll have her give you a big reward later.” “It’ll be more than you make in months delivering food.” Elara chimes in with a sycophantic smile. “Gentlemen, I know you love to have fun, and I won’t spoil it for you. Here’s my friend’s girlfriend, a delivery girl.” “Feel free to use all your props on her. Don’t waste them.” But she doesn’t know who I really am. I’m a big player in Briarwick. The delivery job is just a bet with my grandpa. I’ve taken down so many spoiled rich kids that they could start a parade. *** Among the groomsmen, Orson Creed, with a lip piercing, steps forward and scrutinizes me for a moment. “I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.” Of course he feels that way. After all, the Briarwick brats used to bully ordinary people. And I took them all down. But now, my once fiery red hair has turned gold, and my blazing red lips have faded to bare, unpainted skin. My leather jacket is swapped for a white dress. My dark glasses, and my sun-tanned skin from food deliveries. No one can recognize their old nightmare. Elara smiles awkwardly. “She’s just a delivery girl. Maybe she’s delivered food to you before.” Orson sneers and points to a black device behind him that is emitting electric currents. “A lie detector that can make someone lose control of their bladder and bowels.” He says, blowing a smoke ring. “Delivery girl, why don’t you give it a try?” I turn to Remy, my voice calm. “On our first day together, you said you’d always stand in front of me and protect me. Now this?” He averts his gaze, looking guilty. “Tabitha, Elara is pampered, while you work in the sun and rain. You’re tougher. Just take her place for the pranks.” Fine. I was blind to see him for who he really was. I try to ignore the sting in my heart. I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth and raise an eyebrow. “Gentlemen, enjoy your fun. I’m out of here.” I stride towards the door. Elara screams. “Remy, who will take my place if she leaves? No!” Remy quickly blocks my path. His face is stern. “You can be a little difficult sometimes.” “But now, with all these wealthy young men here, if you just walk out and offend them, what will happen to Elara? And what about my family?” I look up at him. It’s still the same handsome face. But it feels so unfamiliar. I give no response. Remy grabs my hand and says firmly. “Tabitha, if you don’t take Elara’s place today, we’re done.” He looks confident. Elara covers her mouth and giggles, explaining to the groomsmen. “In the past year, every time Remy threatened to break up, Tabitha would give in. She really can’t live without him!” “I understand, though,” she adds, her eyes filled with disdain as she looks at me. “For a nobody like you, snagging Remy is like winning the social lottery.” I sigh and check my phone. I’m genuinely trying to negotiate. “Remy, can we break up in an hour?”

I add, “One more hour and it’ll be our one-year anniversary.” It’s a matter of the successor test, and I have to give in to keep him. Remy looks like he had expected this. “I knew you couldn’t bear to break up with me. Babe, I can’t bear it either. What I said earlier was just a way to get you to comply.” He smiles, takes my hand, and places it on his chest. “Even though I’m helping Elara today, my heart is only with you.” “I promise, as long as you help Elara with this little favor, I won’t break up with you.” No wonder he’s so confident. Last week, Elara kissed Remy in front of me while drunk. She even told me smilingly that she had once snapped Remy’s dick when they were very young. She said, “If I had feelings for Remy, we would have been together long ago.” And he said, “Tabitha, we are just friends. No romance.” I didn’t break up with him at the time. Everyone thought I was head over heels in love with Remy. Thinking of this, I curse my grandpa all over again. I have to admit I regret agreeing to that bet. “Come on.” Orson loses his patience and kicks the crystal centerpiece in the middle of the hotel room. His fierce expression makes everyone’s heart tremble. “Have you decided yet? Who will play these games?” Elara tugs at Remy’s sleeve, on the verge of tears. She doesn’t even need to ask now. Remy hands her a tissue in distress, his glance warning me. “Tabitha, you go and play the games for Elara right now. If you delay for even a second, we’re done!” I can’t lose the bet at the last moment. When I look up again, there’s only a fake smile of submission on my face. “Okay, I’ll do it.” Elara breathes a sigh of relief and turns on the live broadcast. “Hey everyone, I’m live-streaming my wedding for you!” “Yes, that’s the Creed heir, the one who loves thrilling games the most.” “He’s so hot, isn’t he? Well, our other groomsmen are also powerful and good-looking!” “That’s why my bridesmaid is so eager to play those games!” The comments are all negative. “Isn’t this girl the one who appeared in Elara’s live broadcast last time, Mr. Black’s girlfriend?” “I remember she was a food delivery girl. Wasn’t it enough to seduce Mr. Black? Now she’s trying to steal the spotlight at Elara’s wedding.” “Well, that’s what gold diggers do, but she’s picking the wrong person this time. Mr. Creed is famous in the circle for only loving games and not beauties, and he’s cruel.” “She should have hooked someone else, not Mr. Creed, who doesn’t flinch at the sight of blood!” I glance at the comments and then at Orson. I can’t associate him with the person who used to cower in front of me. I sit down on the chair casually and reach out. “Go ahead and test me!” The bodyguard connects the lie detector to me. Elara suddenly speaks up. “Mr. Creed, you don’t know her well. Will you let me ask the questions?” She turns her back to the screen and lowers her voice. “After all, you also want to see her lose control and soil herself from the electric shock, right?” Orson, with a cigarette in his mouth, leans lazily on the sofa. He waves his hand in agreement. Elara smiles sweetly. “The first question.” “Have you ever killed an animal? A pet, that is.”

I think for a moment and then nod, admitting it readily. “Yes, I have.” The comments section erupts with criticism. “This woman is ruthless! She killed a pet!” “And look at her expression. She doesn’t care at all!” Remy’s eyes are full of disappointment. “Tabitha, I never expected you to be so ruthless.” Orson, on the other hand, seems intrigued. “Why did you kill it?” I reply, “To save someone.” Orson presses on. “What kind of pet was it?” It was a wolf, legal to keep abroad. I brought it home to the manor with great joy, only to find it trying to attack the delivery guy on its first day. I slashed its neck without hesitation. But I can’t share that detail. If I did, Orson might start to suspect my true identity. *** After my 16th birthday, I was sent abroad to expand the family business. I passed the heiress’s test with flying colors. But since I’d once caused chaos in Briarwick, my grandpa still thought I was too unpredictable. Around that time, I was dating Remy and working as a food delivery driver, getting a taste of life along the way. He proposed an extra challenge. “If you don’t break up with him within a year and no one discovers your real identity, you win.” “Only then will you be qualified to be the successor of our family.” *** A year has passed. I’ve been gentle and considerate with Remy, fearing he might break up with me. He and his friends all think I’m head over heels in love with him. I did like him once, but a man who’s rotten to the core doesn’t deserve a place in my heart. I shake my head. “I won’t go into the details.” Elara, with her eyes red, is stirring up trouble. “Even if a cat or dog bites, that doesn’t give you the right to kill it. How could you be so cruel? Tabitha, you’re completely heartless!” In the live broadcast, the audience is furious. “Expose her!” “I can’t stand this. If she’s a delivery girl, would she retaliate against society for bad reviews?” “Expose her! I’ll go to her doorstep and throw manure!” I can see Elara’s deliberate provocation and Remy’s subtly hurt gaze. And I understand instantly. Elara has schemed her way into a wealthy family, but she can’t stand to see Remy and me together. She’s using this chance to tarnish my image. But she doesn’t know that I’ve long stopped caring about this relationship.

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After ten years of marriage, I discovered an unfamiliar paternity test on my husband Bruce Dryden’s computer. The report says that the son I’ve raised for a decade—Gerald Dryden—isn’t biologically mine. But I raised this child myself. If that’s the case, where is my biological child? “Honey, what are you still doing in the study so late?” Hearing his voice, I quickly close the document, guilt washes over me. He notices anyway. His face darkens as he looks at me. “So, you don’t trust me that much!” I open the paternity test report and confront him, demanding an explanation. But he quickly shuts down the computer, accusing me of invading his privacy. Watching his retreating back, I realize how distant we’ve become after ten years of marriage. Calmly, I open the drawer and tear up the tenth-anniversary gift I had prepared. … I pull open the bottom drawer, revealing a signed share transfer agreement. I had planned to transfer 15% of the company’s shares to him as a gift for our tenth anniversary tomorrow. But now, it seems pointless. I take the agreement out and tear it to pieces. The shreds fall into the trash bin, mixing with the wrapping paper of the prepared anniversary gifts. Looking at those gifts, I no longer feel the joy of preparing them; instead, I feel a wave of nausea. When I return to the bedroom, Bruce is already in bed, as if nothing happened. I stand at the door for a long time, watching his sleeping back, before turning to the guest room. I don’t sleep a wink all night. The next morning, Bruce wakes me up. He stands at the door of the guest room, his face full of anger. “Thera, what do you mean by sleeping in the guest room?” I sit up and look at him. This face I’ve known for ten years now feels so unfamiliar. “I need some space.” He tries to say something, but in the end, he just shakes his head. “Whatever.” After Bruce leaves for work, I make breakfast as usual. Gerald sits at the table, drinking milk. “Mom, you look pale.” I touch his hair, soft and curly like Bruce’s. Over the years, many people have said they look alike. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Hurry up and eat, or you’ll be late.” On the way to school, I keep drifting off. At a red light, I turn around, pretending to adjust his collar, and I carefully pull a loose strand of hair caught on his collar. “There’s gray hair. Let me take it out for you.” I say, tucking the hair into a small notebook I carry with me. After watching Gerald walk into school, I head to the paternity testing center. “How soon can I get the results with an expedited service?” “Normally it takes five working days, but with an expedited service, you can get the results before 4:00 PM today. The cost is triple.” “Expedited, please.” My hand trembles a bit when I submit the sample. After taking my oral swab, I sit in the waiting area, watching the clock tick by. During this time, I contact a private detective. “I want to look into my husband, Bruce Dryden, especially his whereabouts in the past few months.” At 3:40 PM, my phone rings; the results are out. I open the electronic report and go straight to the end. “DNA analysis shows that the probability of a parent-child relationship between Thera Dryden and Gerald Dryden is 0.0001%.” “Genetic marker analysis does not support Thera Dryden being Gerald Dryden’s biological mother.” I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t. The words blur, and I slide down the wall, my legs giving out beneath me. Not my child. I’ve raised a child for nearly ten years who isn’t biologically mine. Where is my real child? I rush to the maternity hospital where I gave birth nine years ago. I meet the obstetrician from back then, who is now the department head. I get straight to the point. “Dr. Felix, I’d like to review my delivery records and hospital files from back then.” Her smile falters. “It’s been so long; the files might be archived.” After some effort, the records room staff finally bring over a folder. I flip through it and find the records are extremely brief, listing only admission and discharge dates, delivery method, and the newborn’s weight. The file is strangely thin—no nursing logs, no pediatric assessments, nothing beyond the bare minimum. “Is this all there is?” She apologizes. “That’s all in the system. Paper records for obstetric cases are usually kept for ten years, and yours is almost up.” “What about the newborn’s footprints? The blood sample records?” She shakes her head. “Those should be in the neonatal records, but we couldn’t find them.” Something isn’t right. An overly simplified medical record, missing neonatal records, and a son who isn’t biologically mine but looks like my husband. My phone rings. It’s Bruce. “Where did you go? I picked up Gerald.” I realize it’s past school dismissal time, but I had told the teacher beforehand. “I’m out running errands and will be home soon.” I hang up immediately. After dinner, I excuse myself with a headache and head to the bedroom early. Bruce stays in the living room, helping Gerald with his homework. Their voices drift in faintly. “Dad, is Mom upset?” “Mom’s just tired. Finish your homework and go to bed early.” Once they’ve both fallen asleep, I begin to quietly search the entire house. The master bedroom, the living room, and Gerald’s room, I search everywhere. But I find nothing. Finally, I look at the computer in the study, thinking the truth must be there.

Footsteps sound outside the door, and I close the document. When Bruce pushes the door open, I’m tidying up the desk. He glances at the computer screen, which is now back to the desktop, showing a photo of us by the sea three years ago. “Not asleep yet?” “Just going through some old files.” I reply, turning off the monitor as I speak. He stands there for a moment, as if he wants to say something, but in the end, he just nods. “Get some rest.” I sit in the dark, listening to his footsteps fade away. That night, I don’t turn the computer back on and lie in bed with my mind in a mess. The next morning, I tell Bruce to take Gerald to school. He looks at me, then picks up the car keys. “Alright.” As soon as they leave, I head straight to the study. I turn on the computer and type in the password, our wedding anniversary. It’s wrong. I try his birthday, wrong again. Then our son’s birthday, still dead end. Then the date we first met… His mother’s birthday… And the day the company was founded. None of them work. The system prompts me to try again in fifteen minutes. I sit in the chair, staring at the login screen. This computer, which we bought together, is now locked to me. When Bruce gets home from work in the evening, he takes off his coat. “I’m flying to Portle tomorrow. Don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” I come out of the kitchen with a dish. “So urgent? Who’s going with you?” He puts his briefcase on the table and turns to look at me. “It’s a last-minute arrangement, Thera. Could you stop it?” I look at him in silence, wondering why a casual question would cause such a reaction. “You question everything, suspect everyone. I’m just going to work.” I turn to serve the rice, my hand trembling a bit. “Just asking.” He doesn’t say anything more and goes straight into the bedroom. Dinner is done in silence. Gerald seems to sense something and, unusually, doesn’t pick at his food. After Bruce takes a shower, he comes out and picks up the coat on the sofa to hang it on the rack. A receipt falls out of his pocket and lands at my feet. After he leaves, I pick it up and take a look. It’s a perfume invoice, expensive, purchased yesterday afternoon. I don’t recognize the perfume, but I know it’s not for me. In ten years of marriage, Bruce has never given me a gift. I used to make excuses for him, thinking he’s not romantic, too busy with work. Now it seems he’s not incapable of romance. He just never shows me any when we are together. I jot down the information on the invoice. The next morning, as soon as Bruce heads to the airport, I call the boutique. “I’d like to check this invoice, yes, from yesterday afternoon.” “Let me check. Found it. The purchaser is Ms. Judith Dickey.” Judith Dickey. The name rings a bell. Bruce’s secretary, hired half a year ago, is a divorced woman in her thirties. On the way to the airport, I don’t know what I want to confirm. Maybe the perfume is for a client, and maybe I’m reading too much into it. I wait outside the international departure hall for half an hour before I see Bruce and her. Judith, in a beige trench coat and dragging a small suitcase, walks over with Bruce. Bruce’s face wears a relaxed smile I haven’t seen in a long time. Then, in front of the security checkpoint, Judith stops and naturally reaches up to straighten Bruce’s collar. Bruce doesn’t flinch. He leans down and whispers something in her ear. Judith smiles, then rises on her toes and kisses him on the lips. Bruce’s hand rests on her waist for a moment before they part, as if it’s second nature to them. The last shred of self-deception I held onto vanishes completely. So those late nights at work, those impatient looks he gave me, they all had a reason. As I watch their intimate figures, a suspicion gradually forms in my mind. Could that child who isn’t mine have anything to do with this woman? On the way back, I call the private detective I hired a few days ago. “Find out more about Judith Dickey. I want to know everything about her, especially if she has any children.”

The detective works quickly, and by the afternoon of the next day, I receive the investigation report. Judith Dickey, thirty-two years old, divorced five years ago, has a ten-year-old son named Carter Dickey, who attends a primary school in the west of the city. That date suddenly jumps out at me. Judith’s son is only a week younger than Gerald. For the first time in ten years, rage surged through me. I sit on the sofa, holding the report sent by the detective. Then, an idea pops into my head, and I rush into the study. My fingers hover over the keyboard before slowly typing in Judith’s birthday. The desktop opens, revealing only a folder named “Work Backup.” I click on it, and it’s filled with subfolders, organized by year, starting eleven years ago. The earliest folder contains scanned old photos. Bruce and Judith in school uniforms, standing under a locust tree. Nineteen-year-old Bruce smiles, his hand on Judith’s shoulder. Judith, with a ponytail, looks up at him. The next one is from college, in the library. The one after that is their graduation photo, both in academic gowns, holding hands. That year, Bruce told me the company was in trouble, and we canceled our anniversary trip. I close the folder, feeling a bit nauseous. Ten years. Every single one of them built on lies. Looking at the wallpaper of Bruce and me on our wedding day, I feel a wave of revulsion. At three in the afternoon, I drive to the west of the city. The primary school is even older than the detective described. The school bell rings, and children pour out of the gate. I sit in the car, gripping the steering wheel. Carter walks out alone, with no one to pick him up. He looks around, then slowly moves forward along the sidewalk. I hold my breath. That child, Carter. No, that’s my child. The way he walks is a bit like mine, with a slight inward tilt. When he raises his hand to adjust his hair, I see a birthmark on his wrist, in the same spot as mine. I see dust on his eyelashes, his lips a bit dry, the edge of his shoe already coming unglued. His eyes look empty, not like those of a ten-year-old. I cover my mouth to keep from making a sound. He walks away and disappears around the corner. I collapse over the steering wheel and cry uncontrollably. For that child walking home alone, for the ten years of misplaced life, and for myself, living like a fool in a play orchestrated by the traitors. Then I dry my tears and start the car. At the law firm, I place the USB drive in front of Lawyer Henley. It contains backups of all the photos, the paternity test report, scanned hospital records, the perfume invoice, and information on Judith and Carter. “I want a divorce. I want him to leave with nothing. I want custody of my blood and for him to pay the price he deserves.” As I leave the law firm, I remember what Bruce said when he proposed ten years ago. “Thera, I’ll give you a lifetime of stability.” So the lifetime he meant was only ten years. No, maybe even less. I take out my phone and call the company’s second-largest shareholder, also my father’s old colleague. “Mr. Watt, I’d like to talk to you about next week’s board meeting.” Bruce probably forgot that the company bears the Adam name.

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My name is Iris Browne. When my brother-in-law, Joseph Paul, died in my bed, everyone believed they knew exactly what had happened. To atone for my so-called crime, my husband, Gale Austin, divorced me and married my adopted sister, Carol Browne. The company I built, the shares that bore my name, all handed over by my brother, Stephen Browne, to Carol, who quickly rose to dazzling stardom. As for me? I was packed off to a mental institution, a convenient exile to dodge justice. By the time the statute of limitations expired, I had already become a ghost in their world. They came to pick me up. Gale carefully draped a coat over my shoulders, looking at me with sympathy. “Iris, it’s over now. I’ll always be here for you.” But outside, reporters swarmed like wasps around sugar. “Ms. Browne, how could you shamelessly seduce your own brother-in-law and get away with his death?” “Isn’t it an insult to the victim that you dodged prison with a fake psychiatric diagnosis and spent your days lounging in a mental ward?” I didn’t hear them. The endless electroshock therapy in the mental institution had left me with constant tinnitus. Then it happened. A fan of Carol flung a bottle of rancid animal blood straight at me. “You witch! Because of you, Carol had no one to celebrate her birthday!” “You killed her husband, destroyed her family, and now you’re trying to steal her last living relative, too? Why don’t you just drop dead?” I stood frozen as the thick liquid dripped down my face. But that wasn’t true. Back then, they’d dislocated my jaw so I couldn’t speak in my own defense. Forged evidence. Painted me as a monster. All to bury the truth: Carol was the real killer! *** Slowly, I raised a hand and wiped the blood from my eyes. No tears. No hysterics. Not even a flicker of reaction. I turned and walked away from the shouting crowd. “Iris?” Stephen’s voice cut through the noise behind me, tight with disbelief. “Where are you going?” Gale stepped in front of me, brows knitted. “Don’t make a scene here, Iris. We’re taking you home.” I stopped. Finally, I looked at them. “Home?” “Which one? Stephen, didn’t you sign over everything I owned to Carol? What home is left for me?” Stephen’s expression stiffened. I turned to Gale, whose fingers were still clamped tightly around my hand. I curved my lips into a bitter smile. “Oh, I forgot to say. Congratulations on your marriage to Carol.” “Though honestly, no need to hide it next time. If you could carry on an affair under my roof, clearly public opinion doesn’t trouble you.” “Iris!” His face darkened. “Must you talk to me with this attitude?” Stephen bristled and reached for my arm. “What kind of attitude is that? After everything we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us?” As they tugged at me, the same fan barreled forward again, eyes blazing with hatred. She raised her hand to slap me. “Bitch, how dare you disrespect Stephen and Carol’s husband? I ought to kill you!” This time, Gale and Stephen caught her. Gale turned to me, exasperated. “Iris, can’t you see you’re only making things worse? Why can’t you just talk through this?” Seriously? I stared at him. It was almost laughable. “Making things worse?” “Let me ask you something. What have I done, from the very beginning to now, that warranted any of this? She’s a murderer! You protected her, locked me away in a living hell, and wrecked my life! And now you want me to thank you? You’re no better than executioners.” “Shut up!” Stephen roared. “There was no murder! Carol is a gentle, innocent girl. Don’t you dare slander her!” “You’re just jealous! You envied Joseph’s love for her, and that’s why you concocted this sick fantasy!” “Sending you to the mental institution was mercy. It was for treatment, not punishment. The least you can do is be grateful.” Gale sighed. “Iris, please. I know you feel wronged. Marrying Carol was temporary.” “She fell into a deep depression after Joseph’s death. Being with her was part of your atonement.” “Once she’s better, we can start over. I promise. And I’ll never leave you again.” Slap! I swing my hand and strike him across the face with all the force I have. The crack echoed through the air. Gale’s head snapped to the side, a bright red handprint blooming on his cheek. He looked genuinely stunned, as if he never imagined I’d raise a finger against him. Stephen gaped at me. “Iris, have you lost your mind?” My breath hitched. My voice broke through the haze of fury. “Start over?” “Gale, you truly disgust me.” “Go live your perfect life with your dear Carol. A scoundrel and a scheming snake, you’re a match made in hell. I won’t keep you company anymore!” Stephen’s face twisted with fury. He jabbed a finger at me. “Iris, this is your last chance! Kneel. Apologize to Gale and Carol, right now. Or don’t expect me to see you as my sister ever again! Just see how you survive in Seaford without my protection!”

Just then, a sleek, understated luxury limousine glided to a halt at the edge of the crowd. The door opened silently. Carol emerged with poised grace, her assistant steadying her elbow. “Stephen, Gale, please, don’t speak to Iris like that.” The moment Gale and Stephen saw her, they practically bolted to her side. “Why did you come out, Carol?” Stephen said urgently. “It’s chaos out here. Get back in the car!” “He’s right, Carol. You don’t feel well. You shouldn’t have come.” Gale added, wrapping an arm protectively around her, shielding her from view. Their cautious demeanor was a blade in my gut. Once, they had cherished me in the same way. *** Some older students cornered me at school back then. Stephen shrugged off his backpack and threw himself into the fight, one against three. Bruised and bleeding, he’d grin like a fool and say, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Meanwhile, Gale removed every obstacle in silence. He leveraged family power to crush the other boys’ families, forcing them out of the city. His father had punished him for it, six lashes across his back. Yet he never told me. The clearer those memories became, the more grotesque the present felt. It was like I was watching a dream rot into a nightmare. No one was paying attention to me. The same fan who’d attacked me before seized her chance. Along with a few others, she lunged forward, yanking my hair and slamming me to the ground. “Rip that seductive face to shreds!” “Murderer! Let’s purge society of trash like you!” “She deserves it! Beat her!” Over the five years in the institution, I’d learned to absorb pain. To curl inward, shield my head and chest, and wait for it to pass. Blurred vision swam as they kicked and dragged me. Through a slit of sight, I saw Gale lean close to Carol, murmuring reassurances. His expression was softer than I’d seen in years. Stephen, meanwhile, glanced at me with undisguised disgust. Carol feigned shock, as if she hadn’t noticed the mess until now. “Stop!” She cried, stepping between them and me. Gently, she reached out. “Iris, are you alright?” Yet her fingers dug cruelly into the wound on my arm. I let out a strangled groan. She flinched as if I’d burned her, then burst into dramatic tears. “I… I’m sorry, Iris. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to help.” Before I could respond, Stephen drove his foot into my ribs. I crumpled, rolling across the pavement, vision dimming. “How much longer will you keep hurting Carol?” He snarled, grabbing my hair and yanking my head up. “Still acting? After all this time, still playing the victim? Carol barely touched you, and you clutch your wounds like martyrdom.” “Trying to pull that old trick again? Pretending to be her, saving me, then framing her and ruining her reputation? Ruining the career she has built for years?” “Let me make this clear, Iris. Carol is kind. She fears these lies. Me? I’m not so forgiving.” The agony in my scalp was blinding. “If you try those stunts again, the mental institution will welcome you back. You better believe it.” “Enough!” Gale wrenched Stephen’s wrist away. “She’s still your sister.” “Does she deserve to be?” Stephen shoved him off. “Ever since she ran from that valley and left me to die, all for her own skin, she’s no longer my sister. From that day forward, Carol is the only sister I have.”

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Seven years after graduation, Webster Hill and I—Elena Bertie—received invitations to the same New Year’s gala. At the reunion dinner, our former headmaster teased him from across the table, steam rising from the dishes between them. “Elena once gave up her entire future for you. So… when are you two finally making it official?” Webster’s glance flicked toward me. His throat tightened. “I’m getting married next month.” While the table erupted in whistles and applause, he added, almost under his breath, “To Vivian.” The name had dropped like a blade, the air had gone still. Every gaze had slid to me, soft with pity. I lifted a bite of fish, smiled upward, and said, “Congratulations.” Then I went on eating. Whatever had to do with Webster had nothing to do with me. I focused on eating—one bite for me, one for the child I was carrying. My deskmate, Lisa, watched me wolf down rice and sighed. “Well, turn grief into appetite, I suppose.” I rolled my eyes, cheeks bulging, and mumbled through the grains. “That page turned years ago. I’ve long moved forward.” “Don’t act tough. If you wanna cry, my shoulder’s right here.” Her earnestness startled me. I had no idea that my love for him was so obvious to everyone. Webster swapped seats with Lisa and settled beside me. “Dude, promise you’ll come to the wedding.” My fork paused. I had not heard the word for so long. It summoned the ghost of a girl once chased down corridors by spit and stones. I answered, polite and level. “Call me Elena, please.” The deliberate distance made his smile falter. “Elena, if we can’t be… Well, we can still be friends. I really hope you can be there.” “We used to fight side-by-side. Such good times.” We ate together, crammed together, and chased girls together. Or rather, I helped him chase Vivian Kitto. “Sorry, busy that day. I can’t make it.” The twenty-fifth was my son’s birthday. We already had a family day planned at Disney. His eyes dimmed. “You never used to refuse me, Elena.” “You said it yourself. That was before.” I rose, bag over shoulder, and took my leave of the table. “I’ve got a child to bathe and tuck in. Enjoy the evening, guys.” Webster suddenly caught my wrist. Something unreadable flared in his gaze. “What child? Are you nannying for someone?” I slipped free easily. “I’m married. I have a son.” A short, harsh laugh escaped him. “Still the same, Elena, clinging to your dignity while your soul rots.” I never bothered to recall the past. It had never been pride. He had simply trampled my dignity so Vivian could walk on it. “I trust her.” The click of stilettos approached. Vivian had arrived, radiant as ever, claiming every gaze. She tucked her hand through his arm and beamed. “Long time no see, Elena. Sorry I’m late.” “Since the twenty-fifth is impossible, bring your husband to my bachelorette on the twenty-fourth.” That would be Christmas Eve. Why should I gift it to her? I was about to refuse when she turned to the room with a lilting smile. “Surely Elena has let go of the past, right?” “After all, you and Webster practically grew up together.” The words clubbed me across the ribs. *** I was ten when my dad carried a one-legged boy into our house. His war-comrade’s only son, Webster. His parents were crushed beneath their own roof in the quake, only to save his life. Disaster had made him brittle, suspicious. I offered my favorite toy. But he smashed it. “My models are rubble. Don’t bother to remind me!” My parents spooned pork into his bowl. But he sniffed at their kindness. “You don’t have to raise me. Just send me to an orphanage.” He wanted death. His eyes were dim. I washed his twisted foot, steadying him through physiotherapy. He squinted at me, mocking me as the little foot-maid. One winter noon, I tried to support him into sunlight. Yet he shoved me into the freezing pond, and I burned with a fever for a week. In the end, even my parents talked of giving him up and sending him to the orphanage. Only my childish stubbornness kept him.

For five years, I had been his crutch. And slowly, he finally saw me as a friend. We linked pinkies. “Elena, you saved me. I swear to you a lifetime of happiness.” When I shivered, he draped his blazer around my shoulders. At meals, every rib on his plate migrated to mine. The day I vaulted into the grade’s top ten, he was more excited than I was. On that day, he hugged me so hard our fingers locked. I believed we would live happily ever after, just like Webster had promised before. But then, Vivian appeared. She would be redoing her senior year here. With long hair, she had a face every boy would sketch in his notebook. As the monitor, Webster introduced her around the class. When he reached me, Vivian smiled oddly. “Elena Bertie, your girlfriend, right? The famous power-couple.” My smile remained. But his voice cut across, slow and deliberate. “You’re mistaken, Vivian. Elena’s my buddy.” My heart clenched. Stunned, I looked at him in disbelief. Under her measuring stare, I managed a nod. “Right, we’re buddies.” I wanted to question him, but on second thought, I realized he never actually said he loved me, let alone intended to marry me. The whole drama was just my wishful thinking. I drew back without hesitation. He had no love for me, after all. He asked me to help him chase Vivian. So I covered his midnight trysts, even ghost-wrote his love notes to her. I kept my love deep inside my heart, keeping my distance. Then one dawn, he knocked at my bedroom door. “Elena, she turned me down. She said a cripple like me doesn’t deserve her…” His eyes had been road maps of sleepless nights. A sour ache rose in me. I couldn’t help but hug him. “It’s her loss if she said so. If she doesn’t want you, I do. I’ve loved you for years.” His throat bobbed. Inside his eyes were emotions I could barely understand. The next second, he kissed me. “Elena, MIT together, then we get married.” The dean informed me one day. If I ranked first in the recommendation exam, I would secure a guaranteed spot at MIT. I studied like a maniac, thinking happiness was glittering just ahead. But on exam morning, Webster had an accident. A car slammed into him at the gate, hurling him three meters. I sprinted across the asphalt, screaming for an ambulance. The dean kept reminding me, “Ten minutes to the exam, Elena. I’ll accompany him. Just go!” But Webster’s fingers clawed into my palm, blood warm. I looked up through a haze of tears. “I’ll renounce my guaranteed admission. I choose to take the SAT.” In my eyes, no future was worth more than his safety. A month later, as I helped Webster limp into the classroom, Vivian stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Webster, you’re my boyfriend now.” During my bewilderment, she looped her arms around his neck, smiling with reckless triumph. “Since you were willing to take that risk for me, you must come to my send-off dinner.” “A send-off dinner?” My voice came out dry and cracked, as though a fist closed round my heart. “I’ve been accepted by MIT through the recommendation exam. So, yeah, I’m holding a party.” She looked at me, mouth curved in contempt. “And I have you to thank for it, kind enough to surrender your own place for my boyfriend.” I trembled, trying to argue, “Webster is my…” “Buddy,” he cut in, and the word dropped me into an ice cellar. A tear slid free. Webster’s body went rigid. “Elena, you want me to be happy, don’t you?” “Even without the recommendation, with your grades, you’ll still get in.” I refused to believe it and caught his sleeve, breathing in sobs. “We said we’d be together. You promised me a lifetime of happiness…” Vivian shoved me hard. “Stop scheming after my man under that cover of ‘his buddy’.” “I’ve seen your sort before, man-stealing tomboy.” My head struck the lectern. Blood seeped through my hair. Webster tried to reach for me, but Vivian pouted. “Tomboys have a trick for every occasion. It’s just a little cut. Look how she plays the fragile innocent.” With a gloomy face, he took Vivian’s hand and walked away. By the time I came home bandaged, Webster had made an excuse and moved out. Needless to ask whose idea it was. Guess I had lost my mind, still clinging to the pact we made, unable to let go. On Webster’s birthday, Vivian shook her hair loose and slipped her elastic around his wrist. “Here’s my gift. Happy birthday.” Sweetness flooded his eyes. “I love it.” I refused to be outdone. In public, I handed him the present I salvaged from five sleepless nights. It was the old plastic model buried with his house in the earthquake. His gaze faltered. When he shifted his gaze to me this time, something in him softened. Vivian’s eyes reddened, her voice shook. “Give the hair-tie back. I see, you prefer your girl-buddy’s gift.” “Are you flaunting it to shame me? To call me stingy and careless?” The air around us curdled. Her best friend jabbed a pen into my forehead. “Tomboy, what’s your game? Throwing down the gauntlet in front of the real girlfriend?” Panic seized Webster. He swept the model to the floor and ground it beneath his heel. Then, he turned to me, his voice glacial. “I’m an adult. Who keeps toys from childhood?” “Growing up together doesn’t mean we forget boundaries.” Shards littered the ground. With red eyes, I lifted my head. “But that night, you came to my room…” and kissed me. The last three words never left my lips before a vicious slap snapped my head sideways. “Elena, don’t push your luck!” The sting on my cheek was nothing beside the tearing in my chest. Vivian sneered. “Webster in your room? You threw yourself at him, didn’t you, shameless tomboy.” “I didn’t.” Unfortunately, no one believed me. Teenagers were quick to hate when a spark was offered. They branded me the slut who entangled Webster, and hatred caught like wildfire. Stones thudded against my back. My books were shredded and flung into bins. Chair legs were sawed through. Even my silence was reported as chatter that wrecked the class. One winter day, Vivian’s gang poured a pail of filthy water over me. They then locked me in the bathroom overnight. After that night, I burned with a fever for days. From my sick-bed, I still nursed a thread-thin hope that Webster would come. He never did. Then a headline flashed across my phone. At that moment, it crushed what was left of my heart.

“Betrayal for Wealth: War Comrade’s Orphan Abused and Crippled” The article turned the truth on its head, saying my father only adopted Webster because he coveted his dead comrade’s fortune. And then he tortured him, starved him, and broke his leg. The comment section screamed for my parents’ deaths. I explained again and again, telling them the money had been buried beneath tonnes of rubble and Webster’s leg was crushed in the quake. But no one listened. They found out things about me: tomboy, home-wrecker, third wheel. The cyber-storm swallowed me. My father, honest all his life, could not bear the slander. He jumped into the river and never came back. My mother was shattered. The doctors took her to the psychiatric ward. The house that once rang with the laughter of four was left to me alone. The day the college-entrance papers ended fell on the seventh night after Father’s death. Webster texted, “How did the exam go?” I blacklisted and deleted him. *** “Cat got your tongue?” Vivian’s voice hauled me back to the present. She hid a smile behind her hand. “Don’t worry. Even if you only finished high school, we won’t laugh. We’re all friends.” My face stayed blank. “Christmas Eve that day. I’ll spend it with my family. Got no time for that.” At the word “family”, Webster’s eyes lit up. “Elena, how have Mr. and Mrs. Bertie been these years?” “Before the wedding, I’d like to visit them.” The image of my mother leaping from the building flickered across my mind. I curved my lips. “I hope you see them soon, very soon.” My gaze slid to Vivian. As expected, she turned away with guilt, then composed herself and smirked. “So, Elena, no university, what have you been doing?” “I heard you served a year in prison. Is that true?” With a single sentence, the architect of my ruin tossed me to the wolves. But her own hands were spotless. Webster’s face darkened. He stared at me in disbelief. I kept my voice level. “Yeah.” *** On the seventh night after Father died, I spent my last coin on a bottle of wine for him. A mob smashed the makeshift memorial. They snapped canes that held the awning. One of them shattered the bottle against my skull. Blood in my eyes, I snatched a shard and drove it into his belly. As he fell, his phone rang, Vivian’s name flashing on the screen. *** Her best friend lifted an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, sent you to jail?” “Probably got caught brawling with the lawful wife?” “Once a homewrecker, always trash. No surprise if she’s selling herself now.” The same teachers and classmates who had been all polite smiles a moment ago changed immediately. They were studying me with a blend of pity and voyeuristic glee. It was exactly the scene that drowned me seven years ago. I looked at Webster, wondering whether, after all these years, he would finally speak the truth. The first thing he said when our eyes met was. “Elena, I won’t hold the prison term against you.” “You’re still my best buddy.” A sheet of ice slid down my spine. The man in front of me was a stranger wearing a familiar face. Seven years had passed, and he was still nailing the “man-stealing tomboy” sign to my back. I gazed at him icily, then swung my arm and gave him two ringing slaps, one for each cheek. Since they insisted on poking the wound open, I would no longer wait until after the delivery. Webster stood frozen. Vivian shrieked, features twisted. “You dare hit him?” “Parasite! You should have died with your parents!” Webster was still gaping. Vivian’s best friend, Kelly David, snatched a chair and brought it down on my head. Bang. It sounded so heavy and fierce, but the pain I had expected never came. A gentle voice drifted from above my head. “Darling, if I’d known the alumni dinner was this hazardous, I would have insisted you bring the entire security team.” It was my husband, Derrick Doyle. When he looked at them, his mellow baritone carried the chill of a magistrate’s gavel. “Assault, expect my lawyer’s letter.” Kelly, a seasoned street thug, sneered fearlessly. She kicked the splintered chair aside. “Pretty boy, which gutter do you crawl out of? Looking cute doesn’t scare me. Drag me to court if you can.” Derrick’s lip curled. In his circle, he was the infamous “Devil”. Those who talked back to him usually disappeared before breakfast. “Honey, your classmate is… so amusing.” The moment the words left his mouth, I knew the legal route had been abandoned. Kelly was doomed. A vestige of conscience made me pull out my phone to call the police. But Kelly ripped it from my hand, smashed it under her heel, and ground several times. She was even grinning. I sighed. No use healing those determined to drown. She jabbed a finger into Derrick’s chest. “Go on, lawyer, police, whatever, just try…” Before the sentence ended, two men in black clamped a hand over her mouth and clubbed her unconscious. She was carried out like a rolled carpet. Vivian yelled, “Who are you people? Where are you taking Kelly?” I answered for him, knowing he wouldn’t bother. “My husband, Derrick Doyle.” Webster’s whole body had gone wooden. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Elena… you’re really married?” Vivian gave a cold laugh. “Derrick, do you even know what your wife is?” Everyone here can testify, she played mistress, a textbook man-stealer.” “High-school grad, jailbird.” “Just dump her while you still can.” I almost smiled, imagining the scene of Vivian begging for mercy.

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Maya Carter, my housekeeper, is never late. Until today. “Mrs. Harrison, I’m so sorry dinner’s not ready yet. Please don’t be upset with me, but I couldn’t help it. I waited downstairs for over half an hour, and nobody came through to swipe in. I tried calling Mr. Harrison but he didn’t pick up, so that’s why I’m late.” I pause mid-motion as I’m slipping off my shoe, and my frown deepens. “Mrs. Carter, didn’t Tyler give you the access card?” She blinks at me, totally confused. “Access card? Mr. Harrison never gave me one.” “Never?” “No, ma’am.” Maya wipes the sweat from her forehead, her voice careful. “This whole month, I’ve been waiting for other residents to open the door so I could sneak in behind them, or I’d call Mr. Harrison, and he’d buzz me up. Today he just didn’t answer, so I was stuck down there.” That’s weird. The smart lock system showed that the spare access card had been used multiple times this month. *** I bought this penthouse apartment outright before we got married and paid in full. Between my demanding work schedule and constant business trips, I hired Maya to handle dinners and housekeeping. We had one spare access card sitting in the drawer at the time. I handed it directly to Tyler with clear instructions. “The housekeeper’s coming tomorrow for her trial day. Give her this card so she can get in.” He took it from my hand with that warm, attentive smile of his. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got it covered.” But here we are a month later, and Maya’s never seen that card. I pull up the electronic lock app on my phone. Seventeen entries logged for that card over the past month. Tyler and I both use fingerprint access, so who’s been using the card? I’m still turning this over in my mind when the door opens. Tyler’s home. “Hey, Maya was late today,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “She said she doesn’t have an access card to get in. Didn’t I ask you to give it to her a month ago?” Tyler’s hands still on his tie, and he lets out an awkward laugh. “Oh, that. I was slammed that week and must’ve completely spaced on it. Probably shoved it in a drawer somewhere. Let me look for it, and soon as I find it, I’ll get it to her.” “Don’t worry about it.” I set down my magazine, keeping my voice even. “If you can’t find it, it’s fine. I’ll report it lost to the building management tomorrow and get a replacement. Maya shouldn’t have to deal with this hassle every day.” “Don’t!” Tyler whips around, and his voice shoots up several notches. When he sees the confused look on my face, he quickly softens his tone and comes over to put his arm around my shoulders. “I mean, the replacement fee is like a couple hundred bucks, you know? No point wasting money on that. It’s gotta be somewhere in the apartment. I’ll look for it properly over the next couple days, and I’m sure I’ll find it. “You work so hard, and you finally get to come home and relax, so don’t stress over little things like this. Look at you, you’ve been anxious again these past few days, haven’t you? Your face doesn’t look good.” “It doesn’t?” I raise my eyebrow. “Yeah, you used to have these chubby cheeks, and your complexion was so rosy. You looked so adorable back then.” With him joking around like this, I drop the whole access card thing. But something still feels off. That night while he’s in the shower, I pick up his phone. The passcode was still my birthday. His messages are clean with no suspicious conversations, and even his Instagram and X accounts barely have any contacts. I open up his shopping apps next and scroll through his order history. Nothing but everyday household stuff. Then I checked the archived and deleted orders. Buried among a bunch of removed purchases, I find an order from a week ago for a necklace. The shipping address is his office, and the recipient name is Nicole Perry.

Nicole’s a new intern at his company. I actually met her at the last company party. She seemed pretty shy and was super deferential toward me, kind of sweet really. I put his phone back exactly where I found it, acting like nothing happened. After Tyler finishes his shower, I casually bring up Nicole. He doesn’t seem guilty at all and actually goes on about how much she’s improved this past month, so he rewarded her with a necklace. That eases about half my suspicions since Tyler does frequently buy gifts to reward his team. The next day at work, I pull out my phone and connect to our backup home camera. I installed this camera six months ago to check on my cat. It’s hidden pretty well, tucked behind a row of books on the living room bookshelf and pointed right at the sofa and entryway. Later, I sent the cat back to my mom’s place, and I never turned the camera back on after that. Tyler’s completely forgotten it exists. Last night while he was asleep, I quietly plugged the camera back in and got it online. On the feed, the apartment is dead quiet. Nothing unusual at all. I check it for three days straight and don’t catch anything suspicious. Am I just being paranoid? Maybe the necklace really was just a reward for his employee? Deep down, I don’t want to believe that the man I’ve shared a bed with for seven years is cheating. Friday afternoon, work suddenly sends me on a business trip to a nearby city. I leave the office two hours early to go home and pack. When I push open the door, Tyler’s in the bathroom taking a shower. He usually only showers at night before bed, so showering at this hour is weird. “Babe? What’re you doing home so early?” Tyler comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist. When he sees me, panic flashes across his face, but he covers it quickly. “Last-minute business trip,” I say as I head into the bathroom. “Just grabbing a few things.” I pick up a bottle of body lotion from the counter, and immediately something feels off. The bottle’s way lighter than it should be. I hold it up to the light and my stomach drops. It was more than half full just a few days ago, and now it’s practically empty? That uneasy feeling settles deeper in my chest, but I don’t say anything. I just pack my suitcase in silence. When I’m ready to leave, Tyler’s suddenly all attentive. “You work so hard, babe. Let me take you down to the garage.” He grabs my suitcase with that considerate smile plastered on his face, playing the perfect doting husband. By the time I check into the hotel in the neighboring city, it’s already nine at night. I don’t even bother washing up before I pull out my phone and open the home security app. The feed loads, and there’s Tyler, sitting alone on the couch scrolling through his phone, looking completely bored. I watch the screen for a good ten minutes, and I’m just about to close it and go to sleep when I hear something at the door. The electronic lock clicks open with a beep. The door swings wide, and a figure in a short skirt walks in like she owns the place.

It’s Nicole. And she’s holding the missing access card. Tyler springs up from the couch with this look on his face I haven’t seen in forever, all soft and adoring. Nicole moves through the apartment like it’s her own home, and she doesn’t even put on the guest slippers. Instead, she slides into my pink silk house slippers, the ones Tyler gave me for my birthday that I barely ever wear because they’re too nice. “Babe,” Nicole coos, and throws herself into Tyler’s arms. “There’s my girl. What took you so long? I missed you.” “Oh stop, I had to do my makeup.” Nicole traces little circles on his chest with her finger, her voice all playful. “Besides, that wife of yours won’t be back for a whole week, so we’ve got plenty of time.” “Well then, I’m gonna make the most of this week with you, baby.” Tyler scoops Nicole up in his arms, laughing as he carries her straight into my bedroom. I stare at my phone screen, my nails digging so hard into my palm I can almost feel blood. He’s actually cheating on me. My first instinct is to call Tyler and confront him, but as I pull up his number, my finger hovers over the call button. Yelling at him now would only tip them off and give them time to cover their tracks. I can’t let them get away with this. The next few days on my business trip drag on forever. During the day I force myself to focus on work, but at night, I hide in my hotel room torturing myself by watching the security footage. Nicole’s acting like she owns the place. She’s wearing my pajamas, using my skincare products, and sleeping with my husband in my bed. The most disgusting part? Nicole actually dips her toes into my ridiculously expensive body butter and scoops out the cream with her toes to use as a foot mask. Tyler just stands there watching, and instead of stopping her, he’s laughing and massaging her feet. Watching this makes me rush to the bathroom and dry heave. I splash cold water on my face and stare at my pale reflection in the mirror. My expression hardens. If they want to be this shameless, then they can’t blame me for what comes next. I download all the security footage from the past few days and back everything up to the cloud. Then I call my lawyer. “Mr. Lawson, I need you to draft divorce papers. I want him to walk away with nothing.” After I hang up, I check the calendar. Tomorrow’s my birthday. Tyler said he’d celebrate with me, but clearly he’s forgotten all about it. Fine. I’ll throw myself a “grand” birthday party. I push through all my work in five days and book an early flight home. Then I send out three group messages. The first one goes to my parents and Tyler’s parents. “Mom, Dad, it’s my birthday this Saturday. Tyler wants to throw a party at our place and we’d love for you all to come celebrate with us.” The second message goes to Tyler’s buddies, his coworkers, and a few of Nicole’s rivals at the company. “Party at Tyler’s place Saturday at 10 AM! Good food, good drinks, come hang out!” The last one goes to the building manager. “I’m upgrading our security system Saturday morning. Could you have two security guards wait by the door? We might need help moving some things.” Everyone happily agrees. The next morning I land and head straight home. On the security feed, those two are still all over each other in bed. Tyler reaches out and strokes Nicole’s face. “Baby, wake up. You hungry? I’ll order some takeout.” “Mmm… don’t wanna move…” Nicole mumbles. “Tyler, just go make something. I want your sandwiches.” “Okay, I got you, babe.” Tyler kisses her sweetly and gets up to head into the kitchen. At 9:50 a.m., the doorbell rings.

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Ryan Carter, the famous playboy heir in Harbor City, openly declared that he only dated women on short-term arrangements. However, there were still lots of women eager to be his temporary girlfriend. Because if he was in a good mood, he’d reward them with a villa. If he wasn’t, they’d still walk away with a million-dollar breakup fee. People in Harbor City all laughed at me, saying I was the most miserable wealthy wife in history. They all thought I’d endure it for the rest of my life. I was going to, until Ryan brought a college student named Kelly Smith home. The girl looked ordinary, yet she was the first woman he kept longer than a month. Ryan gave me two choices. Accept an open marriage and let Kelly stand on equal footing with me. Or just divorce him, split half the assets, and go our separate ways for good. His friends were there, watching the show. They were certain that I’d keep being a pushover, enduring everything, for the sake of money. But I chose the latter without hesitation. In my previous life, I chose to endure, and what I got in return was Kelly pushing her luck further and further. She forbade Ryan from touching me, forbade him from giving me any assets. In my later years, I couldn’t be more envious of Kelly, who got everything, money and kids. Even after Ryan died, his will didn’t grant me anything. All his inheritance was left under Kelly’s control. I had been his lawful wife, but ended up with nothing at last. Reborn into this life, I finally figured everything out. This time I just wanted to take the money and leave. I picked up the divorce agreement, read it carefully from beginning to end, and was about to sign my name. Ryan finally spoke, his tone carrying a trace of tension even he hadn’t noticed. “Anna Taylor, think this through. Once you sign, there’s no turning back.” I didn’t stop. I quickly wrote my name down. “I’ll pack my things and leave right now.” Why the hell would I turn back? In my previous life, I thought bringing Kelly home was just another one of his tricks to mess with me. Naively, I believed that after all these years of marriage, he must have had at least a little affection for me. I was a fool. He and Kelly had kids one after another and grew old together in love. And I, in that house, was like an awkward outsider, mocked by others for my whole life. Not until my later years did I hear him talking with Kelly in a hospital room. He said that back then, the dramatic scene of catching a guy in my bed, had been arranged by him personally. “I was just tired of her and didn’t want things to get too ugly, so I staged the whole thing.” There wasn’t a shred of guilt in his clouded eyes, “That way, anything I did afterward seemed completely justified.” So that was it. No wonder every time I desperately tried to explain, all I got was his cold disbelief. Because from beginning to end, he knew the truth. He didn’t love me, yet he used a fabricated crime to trap me for fifty years. He could have ended it cleanly with one stroke, but instead chose to slowly torture me to death. Looking at the young yet still cold face before me, I felt nothing but hatred. He stared blankly at the signed agreement, his eyes filled with shock. Outside the door, the faint sounds of whispering abruptly stopped. The next second, my distinguished parents-in-law rushed in cheerfully. My mother-in-law grabbed Kelly’s hand, looking her up and down, clicking her tongue in praise. “Oh my, look at her! So young and so energetic!” My father-in-law, who had always treated me with hostility, was smiling kindly at this moment. He shot me a pointed glance and then said, “Finally, we can send away that useless one. It’s been so many years, but there’s no kid at all!” Kelly lowered her head shyly, pretending to be modest. “Sir, Madam, please don’t say that. I’m not that much younger than Madam Anna…” She paused, her face flushing, “Actually, I’m already one month pregnant. It’s just still early, so I planned to tell you about it later.” I looked at her and frowned. As expected, still the same familiar sarcasm, the same nauseating tone. Only this time, I didn’t care anymore. All these years, in order to be a useful wife, I worked myself to the bone at Carter Group during the day. At night, I still had to serve these two picky bastards. Just past thirty, yet plenty of white hair had already crept into my temples. I did look kinda old. I turned back to my room and began packing my pitiful little bit of luggage. And I was already planning where I should go first to properly relax after getting the money. Didn’t notice Ryan following me in. “It’s so late. There’s no need to move out immediately. Leave tomorrow.” “Isn’t the villa in the west of the city still empty? You can stay there for now. I’ll visit you when I’m free.” “Anna, I know you still love me. Don’t be mad anymore, okay?” He seemed to recall something and smiled. “But I really can’t let you be my legal wife anymore. I can’t let my child grow up being labeled as illegitimate.” I didn’t respond. I just picked up my suitcase, walked past him, and headed straight for the door. “There’s nothing left to say between us. I’m very happy we’re divorced.” “If you really still have a conscience, hurry up and pay me what you owe.” The night wind carried fine snow as it rushed toward me, biting cold, yet unable to extinguish the fire burning in my heart.

Ryan’s efficiency was, as always, impressive. When I woke up, three billion was already in my bank account. With the money, the first thing I did was book Harbor City’s most luxurious private club. Haircut, full-body spa, and everything. The haggard woman with graying temples in the mirror was gone. In her place stood a sharp-eyed beauty with flamboyant red hair. Just as I finished changing, my best friend Iris Allen called. She immediately burst into a fit of shouting. “Anna Taylor! What’s going on between you and Ryan? Have you lost your minds? What the hell happened?” I held the phone a little farther away and asked lazily, “What’s wrong?” “And you still ask what’s wrong? Haven’t you seen the news yourself?” Iris’s voice was full of disbelief, “The headlines are all photos of Ryan attending a banquet with that mistress!” “He said in front of all the reporters that that bitch is his only wife! He even said they’re holding a wedding soon!” “Your snobbish parents-in-law were right there too, saying that bitch deserves it!” Her voice dropped, filled with cautious concern. “Well, are you okay?” I never got such public acknowledgment, such recognition. Ryan had now given it to her. “I’m fine.” Admiring my brand-new look, I spoke calmly. “We’re already divorced.” “What? Divorced?” Iris didn’t believe it. She’d watched me love Ryan for more than ten years. She watched me bend over backward for this marriage, give up myself, wagging my tail like a dog, begging for scraps of affection. I didn’t explain further. I just laughed and said, “Are you free tonight? Let’s go get a drink. My treat.” In Harbor City’s most extravagant bar, the booths were piled high with the priciest wine. Several young, handsome male models surrounded me, attentively pouring drinks for me. Iris stared at me and said, “Holy shit, I believe it now. You really have let go. You were never like this before.” Back then, to prove to Ryan that I wasn’t after money, I calculated cost-performance for everything. I had been afraid he’d think I was wasteful or didn’t care about the family. Now, sitting in this luxurious private room, I looked at the woman reflected in the mirrored glass. The flamboyant red hair, the perfectly tailored haute couture dress, was strange, yet familiar. Iris raised her glass and clinked it hard against mine. “You look a bit like that once-in-a-century genius beauty from the finance department at Ace University.” She downed a huge gulp of wine and then complained, “Back then, so many venture capital firms were fighting to invest in you. If you’d started your own group, you’d have crushed Carter Group long ago!” “Spending over a decade being a servant for his family, and after the divorce you only got this much money.” “Girl, I really think you deserve better.” I had been a servant for them for more than a decade. In my previous life, Carter Group, under my control, once dominated the national rankings as the strongest enterprise. Yet in my old age, I couldn’t even afford a box of painkillers. In the end, I was thrown out by Kelly’s children and died of illness beside a trash heap on a winter night. The business empire I built with my entire life went to Kelly and her children. Thinking of this, I drained the wine in my glass in one go. The spicy liquid burned down my throat, yet ignited the fire deep in my heart. I swore I would get back at them. Without me, could they really live so well? The very next day, news of my group registration spread like wildfire, stirring the entire circle. Some people sensed opportunity and rushed overnight with proposals, hoping to invest. But more people mocked and waited on the sidelines, waiting for the Carter family’s reaction. Someone clearly gave instructions to the media, so paparazzi articles were all belittling me for overestimating myself. I looked at the push notifications on my phone and swiped them away expressionlessly. I just didn’t expect to receive a call from Ryan. “Anna, just stop it.” “Starting a company isn’t child’s play. That little bit of money of yours won’t last many days. I haven’t removed your position at the group. Come back.” I refused coldly, “None of your business.” There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. He seemed displeased, but still spoke patiently, “Anna, can’t you be a bit more understanding? I’ve just found true love.” “Besides, instead of starting some small broken group, wouldn’t it be better to stay at Carter Group?” “That southern district merger you were handling before…” I hung up the phone directly. As expected. He had just remembered that I was still useful. That southern district project was a tough nut I’d been working on for over half a year. I drank until my stomach perforated for it. Without me, Carter Group wouldn’t even know where to start. At Carter Group, although I was the president, my monthly salary was only three thousand. All because my distinguished father-in-law said we were family and shouldn’t be so calculative. I once naively believed that was his test for me. Now it seemed I was nothing more than an exceptionally capable yet ridiculously cheap laborer they had recruited. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I made up my mind at that time. I would take over all those projects I brought to Carter Group in my previous life. Even if my new group couldn’t deal with them, I would personally hand them over to Carter Group’s deadliest rivals. After the call was cut off, Ryan slammed his phone to the ground in fury. All these years, he had grown used to my obedience, expecting me to show up on command and disappear at his whim. Now that I’d hung up on him so decisively, he felt really mad. At that moment, his special assistant awkwardly came in holding a stack of documents he couldn’t even understand, asking him to sign them. Days of exhaustion, plus years of unfamiliarity with group affairs, had left him truly overwhelmed lately. Kelly followed the assistant in, took Ryan’s hand, and said with eyes full of concern, “Ryan, don’t work yourself too hard. I’m your wife now. Let me help share your burden.” He hesitated, somewhat uneasy. “You’re still young and unfamiliar with group operations. Go rotate through the departments first.” Kelly’s eyes immediately reddened with grievance as she questioned him, “Anna Taylor could be the president. Why can’t I?” Ryan subconsciously wanted to say that at least Anna was a top graduate from Ace University’s finance department. But the moment he met Kelly’s eyes, all his rationality was thrown away. His heart softened, and he just nodded. Kelly broke into a smile through her tears, hugged him, and said affectionately, “I’m just worried about you. Look at you, you’ve lost so much weight lately.”

Less than half a month after my group started up, everything was already running smoothly. During this time, Kelly sent people over more than once to cause trouble. Just some petty tricks, all of which I brushed aside with ease. After all these years in Harbor City, the connections I’d built were far beyond what a little girl like her could compare to. Those senior employees at Carter Group whom I personally trained had long wanted to leave after hearing I’d gone solo. Especially since after Kelly started working there, she kept suppressing them, making their days suffocating. I didn’t rush to bring them over. I had them stir up a little chaos before they left, a small token of allegiance to me. Kelly thought losing a few people was no big deal, even secretly rejoicing that she’d cleared out some remnants of me. But she didn’t understand, some of them were critical for the group. Projects fell through one after another, and Carter Group’s stock price plunged again and again. Meanwhile, on my side, with capable team members, we unleashed astonishing power, consecutively landing several deals worth tens of millions. Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window in the conference room, looking at the jubilant team below, I announced loudly, “Tonight at OTK Club. It’s all on me. No one leaves sober!” “Awesome!” Amid the thunderous cheers, I led everyone out of the group building in a grand procession. At the entrance, a familiar black Rolls-Royce was parked quietly by the roadside. The car door opened, and Ryan stepped out with an arrogant look, waving at me. I didn’t even glance his way, leading my people straight ahead. His special assistant stopped me. Ryan followed, his face openly showing displeasure and restrained anger, “Anna Taylor, what do you mean? Didn’t you see me? You’ve really grown bold now.” A little impatient, I looked at him coldly and said, “Mr. Ryan, do you need something?” He seemed slightly taken aback by my attitude, but still got straight to the point, issuing an order, “Shut down your group and come back to Carter Group.” I was so angered by his self-righteousness that I laughed. He took my laughter as hesitation, and his tone softened a little. “Anna, I’ve really been exhausted lately. Don’t keep fighting with me, alright?” He paused, as if making a huge concession. “If you really mind Kelly, I can have her move somewhere else for now.” Looking at this pompous man before me, I couldn’t help but question my own judgment back then. “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I cut him off coldly. “Mr. Ryan, we’re already divorced. Please don’t interfere with my life anymore.” His patience ran out, his voice suddenly rising. “I’ve already compromised!” “What more do you want?” “The group needs you right now, and you choose this moment to put on airs?” I suddenly felt there was no reasoning with him at all. In his world, everyone was supposed to revolve around him. “If you’ve got any issues, Mr. Ryan, why don’t you go bother your precious wife, Kelly Smith?” “I’m just an outsider. I have no obligation to clean up your mess.” He seemed to have realized something and said, “You care about the status?” “Anna, once Kelly gives birth, I’ll think about it.” “But you have to promise me, no going public. I don’t want Kelly to be hurt.” I stared at him, enunciating every word: “I’ll say it one last time. Get lost! Don’t let me see you again!” “I’m never getting back together with you. Ever.” Ryan’s face darkened with rage. “Anna Taylor, don’t push your luck!” “Don’t forget this is Harbor City. If I want to crush a low-tier little group like yours, it’s easy as pie!” Just then, a clear, slightly lazy male voice cut in. “Oh? Mr. Ryan sure has a bad temper.” “Not only openly harassing my fiancée, but also threatening to destroy her group?” Ryan turned his head and was totally stunned. It was Alex White, another rich young man in Harbor City, and Ryan’s nemesis. Alex strolled over lazily and naturally wrapped an arm around my waist. Leaning his head intimately against my shoulder, he whined, “Darling, I’ve been waiting in the parking lot forever. Turns out you were here stopped by a bastard.” Ryan trembled with fury, pointing at me. “Anna Taylor! Give me an explanation! Why did you betray me?” Then, as if he suddenly figured something out, he put on a smug, all-knowing expression. “I get it now! You’re acting, aren’t you! You deliberately found Alex to piss me off!” Alex rolled his eyes dramatically and dragged me away. “Let’s just not waste time with him.” “Stop right there!” Ryan tried to chase after us. But he was too agitated, and with his recent chaotic schedule, his abdomen suddenly seized with sharp pain. “Damn… ” He doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach, cold sweat beading on his forehead. “Anna. My stomach hurts…” I didn’t slow down, in fact I walked even faster, not turning my head even once. Behind me were his suppressed groans of pain, and his assistant’s panicked screams. *** Alex didn’t give me any chance to look back. He directly shoved me into the passenger seat of his flashy red Ferrari. The sports car roared out of the parking lot. Only then did he take off his sunglasses and smile at me sideways. “Well? Not bad acting, right?” I didn’t speak, just watched the cityscape speeding past outside the window. “Hey, Anna, don’t be so indifferent.” He nudged me lightly with his elbow. “I helped you out, you know. Not even a thank you?” “Thank you.” I kept it brief. He pouted, clearly dissatisfied with my coldness. But he didn’t say more, only turned up the volume of the car music. That very night, the headlines of Harbor City’s financial and entertainment sections were all dominated by Ryan Carter. #Carter Group President Chasing Former Love, Suffers Stomach Spasms and Is Hospitalized# The accompanying photos showed him being taken into an ambulance by his assistant and bodyguards. The comment section exploded. Some mocked Ryan for bringing it on himself, saying he should’ve expected this day back when he flaunted his mistress. Others claimed Kelly Smith was inferior to me, which was why Ryan turned back, and that the two of us would soon remarry.

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On the eve of Thanksgiving, my husband, Eugene Green, had promised to accompany Tyler and me to my parents’ house for the holiday. Halfway there, he suddenly received a message that his mother was seriously ill and wanted to see her grandson. “Helen, I have to take Tyler back to see my mom. We won’t be able to go with you this time,” he said. Tyler Green, ever the well-behaved son, offered me comforting words. Considering the urgency of his mother’s condition and her longing to see her grandson, I felt a pang of disappointment but did not object. Watching their retreating figures, I curled my lips into a cold smile. Had Thanksgiving turned into Halloween? Had my mother-in-law, who died ten years ago, somehow risen from the grave? I called my father—the man who had never failed to solve a problem. “Dad, Eugene is having an affair. You and Mom should come over with our men. We’re going to catch him red-handed!” I followed the car’s tracker to the company. Laughter echoed from the conference room. Through the window, I saw the company’s ditzy beauty, the finance officer, Gloria Grant, leaning in Eugene’s arms. She was about to blow out the candles. Tyler stood beside her, singing the birthday song along with the other employees. When the song ended, Tyler shouted excitedly, “Dad, give my mom a birthday kiss!” The other employees joined in the teasing, chanting, “Kiss her! Kiss her!” Amidst the excited cries, Eugene held Gloria tightly and kissed her passionately, oblivious to everyone around them. Without a word, I pushed through the crowd and slapped Eugene hard. He looked up, about to explode in anger, but his eyes turned frantic when he saw me. “Why are you here?” Tyler, bewildered, hid behind Eugene, not uttering a sound. Only Gloria remained unfazed, even smiling slightly. “Ms. Belle, Mr. Green is just celebrating my birthday. Would you like a piece of cake?” She held out the entire large cake to me. But in the next second, she slipped and, before I could react, she somehow flung the entire cake into my face. Before I could react in anger, she feigned tears. “I’m sorry, Ms. Belle. You know I’m always clumsy.” Silently, I grabbed her new dress and wiped the cream off my face. Gloria screamed, looking at Eugene with an expression of grievance, “This is the birthday gift you gave me, worth hundreds of thousands!” My heart turned to ice. A shameless parasite, using my money to support his mistress? Eugene snapped, “Helen, are you crazy? Can’t you just wash your face in the restroom instead of soiling Gloria’s dress? How vicious! It was an accident!” “Didn’t you say you were going to see your sick mother? Why here? Is Gloria your new mother now?” Before Eugene could explain further, my colleague Oscar interrupted me discontentedly. “Ms. Belle, how dare you speak like that? What’s wrong with a husband celebrating his wife’s birthday? Why do you care? And you even dared to hit the boss and ruin Gloria’s clothes. You should apologize already, or we’ll call the police!” I stared at Eugene with a sardonic smile. “Celebrating your wife’s birthday, huh? What a devoted husband you are.” Oscar snorted coldly, enviously. “Of course. Mr. Green is famously a doting husband. Everyone in the company knows it. It’s just that they prefer to keep a low profile.” A chill ran through me. So these two had been carrying on right under my nose, while I was kept in the dark. “Are you going to explain to me about this mistress of yours?” Upon hearing this, the crowd burst into an uproar, looking at Eugene and Gloria in disbelief. Eugene’s lips turned dry, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, but he couldn’t utter a single word. Hearing the increasing murmurs around her, Gloria began to sob. “Ms. Belle, I know you’ve always wanted to climb the social ladder by seducing Eugene. But Eugene only has eyes for me. I beg you to stop haunting him. If you continue like this, I’ll have no choice but to ask him to have you fired.” Eugene didn’t expect Gloria to say that. He glanced at me furtively, guilt written all over his face. Instead of getting angry, I laughed. “Gloria, didn’t you mess up the client contract and cost the company tens of millions? Isn’t the dismissal process complete yet?”

As soon as my voice fell, Teresa from HR splashed a faceful of alcohol on me. “I guess you’ve got cake frosting on the brain. Let me help you sober up! This is Mr. Green’s company. Even if Gloria loses a hundred deals, so what? Everyone knows she’s the boss’s woman! As for you, thinking you can control Mr. Green with a few big clients? Dream on!” The others chimed in one after another. “Just apologize to Mrs. Green already!” Earl Lew, the bald driver, leered at me greasily. “Ms. Belle, if you’re really that desperate for a man, how about me? Forget the wedding gift. I’ll even accept a few hundred thousand as a dowry from you. That’s all I need, easy deal.” Everyone burst into laughter at his words, and someone even suggested that I get engaged to Earl on the spot. I wiped the alcohol from my face and spoke slowly, “Eugene, I suggest you tell the truth before you regret it.” Seeing that I was all alone, Eugene became more confident. “Gloria is my wife! What do I have to regret? You asked for all this!” “And you should apologize to Gloria!” Gloria threw herself into Eugene’s arms, whispered, “Honey, never mind. I’m such a clumsy person. Even if I’m bullied, I won’t hold a grudge.” “I’d never slap you in front of everyone and humiliate you the way Ms. Belle did.” As expected, Eugene held Gloria even tighter, his eyes filled with tenderness. I looked at Gloria and curled my lips into a cold smile. “I almost forgot. I only slapped him, not you!” In the next second, I pulled her out of Eugene’s arms and slapped her hard twice! Gloria screamed in shock, “You’re crazy! How dare you hit me!” Before I could continue, Eugene stepped forward and grabbed my neck tightly, pressing down. “Go to hell!” His strength was immense, and despite my struggling, I couldn’t break free. At that moment, Gloria raised a bottle of wine and smashed it fiercely against my head. Blood mingled with the wine and flowed down. Seeing my icy gaze, she tried to explain, “Ms. Belle, I was trying to help you, but I’m just clumsy and missed…” She then looked at Eugene with tears in her eyes. “Honey, don’t blame me. I was just afraid you’d get into trouble.” Eugene didn’t even glance at me but held Gloria tighter. “How could I blame you? You’re just too kind-hearted.” Our marriage lasted for over a decade. In that instant, it just crumbled into dust. I clutched the wound on my head and said, word by word, “You may not acknowledge me, but my own flesh and blood can surely vouch for my identity!”

Upon hearing that, the employees’ gazes shifted towards Eugene, now tinged with suspicion. Some even whispered to each other, “Judging from their conversation, Ms. Belle seems much more confident than Mr. Green. Is Gloria really the mistress?” “It’s likely. Mr. Green’s son, Tyler, is already ten years old and looks much more like Ms. Belle’s child. Gloria is only in her twenties. Could she have a child that old?” “But would Mr. Green really dare to cheat so blatantly?” Tyler, who had been hiding behind Eugene, suddenly stepped forward and shouted, “Don’t you dare judge my mom!” I had hoped to shield Tyler from the adults’ mess. But now, I silently prayed he would speak up for me. “My mom is Gloria! She’s my dad’s legal wife! Helen is just crazy!” These words felt like a plunge into an icy abyss. I was jolted back to the birthday song he had led. I looked at my son in disbelief, my voice hoarse. “Tyler, don’t you remember how I signed you up for a European summer camp last summer, but Gloria, being so ‘clumsy,’ sent you to Africa instead? Or last month, when she drove you to school and, in her confusion, lost your lunch, leaving you hungry? And…” “Stop it!” he interrupted furiously. “You don’t understand! Mom didn’t mean it! She’s just a bit clumsy, but she’s incredibly kind-hearted, nothing like you! You wanted me to go to Europe just to force me to attend a German-language program! The so-called nutritious meals you made were all things I hated. Mom is different. She says I don’t have to do homework and can buy snacks from street vendors. I love her! She’s my real Mommy!” After a decade of toiling for this family, I felt utterly disheartened, drained of any strength to argue. Gloria looked at me triumphantly. “Ms. Belle, what else do you have to say? Kids don’t lie.” The driver Earl Lew, confirming that I was “indeed” the fake, stopped pretending and draped his arm over my shoulder, showing his true colors. “Helen, if you’re horny, just say so. Why steal Gloria’s husband? That’s just low.” Teresa chuckled. “Earl, you’re so lucky! Why not just skip the engagement and sleep with her already? She’ll be yours then.” I stared at them in shock, clutching my clothes tightly. The others joined in with taunts. “Earl, share the spoils. It’s not nice to hog her all to yourself. Helen is a bit older, but she still has her charm.” I looked at Eugene. After ten years of marriage, even a stranger wouldn’t be so heartless. But he just waved his hand in disgust. “Take her to another office. Don’t ruin Gloria’s birthday party.” Gloria’s eyes gleamed. “We’d better film this. Otherwise, if she goes to the police…” Eugene pinched her cheek affectionately, nodding with a sly smile. “And you said you’re clumsy? I’d say you’re the smartest girl here.” I was furious. “Don’t you dare!” Gloria slapped me hard twice. “What’s there to be afraid of? Once we film you, let’s see how defiant you can be!” As soon as she finished speaking, dozens of hands reached for me, trying to drag me to another room. I struggled desperately. Just then, a familiar voice came from outside the door. “Gloria, sweetie, I’m here!”

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The night before my wedding, I walked in on my fiancé entangled with his savior’s younger sister. The woman was wrapped in my wedding blanket, a lingering look of passion still in her eyes. I threw the pregnancy test result in his face and asked, “Do you still want this child?” He smoked half the night. At dawn, stubbing out his cigarette, he said, “I have a duty to her, but I love you.” Hearing that, I put on my wedding dress, deciding to give him one last chance. However, what I got was, “Sorry, Ms. Southwell. Mr. Vogt says the wedding is cancelled. Ms. Woods has suffered a heart attack and is undergoing emergency resuscitation.” My bouquet dropped to the ground, my dignity shattered. I ran outside just in time to see his car speeding away. On the phone, my voice verged on collapse, “Julian! If you dare to go to her today, I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow. You’ll lose your child!” He was silent for a moment, and then hung up. Only the dial tone remained in my ear. I stood at the hotel entrance, still in my wedding dress. The guests around me whispered as they stared. The host froze on stage, unsure what to say. Julian’s mother, Lydia Finch, hurried over and grasped my hand. “Sophia, go inside first. Don’t let them see it.” I looked at her and said softly, “The wedding is off.” “Nonsense!” She said in a low voice, “Julian just had a momentary lapse of judgment. Vivian’s situation is critical. He couldn’t ignore her.” “So he could ignore me?” “You’re going to be his wife. Don’t make a scene.” I laughed, pulling my hand from hers. “I’m done being his wife!” After gathering the hem of my dress, I walked toward the backstage. Lydia shouted after me, “Sophia! Leave today, and forget being a Vogt ever again!” I didn’t look back. In the dressing room, I took off the wedding dress and changed into my own clothes. The makeup artist carefully removed all hair accessories. “Ms. Southwell, your makeup…” “Leave it.” I picked up my bag and left. Outside the hotel, the sky was overcast. I hailed a taxi. “Trinity Hospital, please.” My phone vibrated in my bag. It was Julian’s assistant, Daniel Bright. I didn’t answer. I knew what he would say. “Mr. Vogt is handling an emergency. Mr. Vogt didn’t mean it. Mr. Vogt will explain to you later.” Such words sounded in my mind. I’d heard excuses like this for ten years. Vivian had been Julian’s responsibility ever since her brother, Leonard Woods, died saving him five years ago. This responsibility had weighed on Julian for five years. I used to think it was right for him to take care of Vivian. Today, I realized just how far he’d let that responsibility go. The taxi stopped at the hospital entrance. I paid and walked into the emergency building. Julian was sitting on the long bench outside the emergency room. Head down, elbows propped on his knees, hands dug into his hair, he sat there with his suit jacket tossed carelessly to one side. I walked over. Hearing my footsteps, he looked up and stood up when he saw me. His eyes were bloodshot. “Sophia, why are you here? I’m sorry. Today…” “How is she?” I interrupted him and looked at the closed door of the emergency room. “The doctor said it was acute heart failure. They’re still trying to stabilize her. She’s in critical condition.” “I see.” I nodded and then turned to leave. Julian grabbed my arm. “Sophia, please don’t be like this. Leonard died because of me. I can’t abandon Vivian. She has no family in this world.” I shook off his hand. “Julian, I’m not doing anything. I just feel our wedding doesn’t seem as important as a girl you’ve known for five years.” “No! Sophia, you’re the most important to me! But she’s dying!” “The doctor didn’t say she’s dying,” I said calmly. His lips moved, but no words came out. Just then, the emergency room door opened. A doctor came out. “Family of Vivian?” Julian immediately stepped forward. “I am.” “The patient’s heart rate spiked due to excitement. It’s stable now, no danger. She’ll be transferred to a regular ward for observation for two days.” Julian heaved a sigh of relief. He looked back at me with a hint of reproach. “See? She’s so pitiful. Can’t you be a little understanding?” I said nothing. The hospital bed was wheeled out. Vivian was lying on it, pale and with her eyes closed. As she passed me, her eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes opened a slit. Seeing me, she soon got tears welling up. Julian immediately held her hand. “Vivian, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” I turned and walked out of the hospital. The cold wind hit my face. Only then did I realize my heart was pounding wildly.

The next day, Julian didn’t come home. The house was deathly silent. I called a real estate agent to list the house. “Yes, we need to sell it right away.” In the afternoon, Julian came back. He looked exhausted. “Sophia, I apologize on Vivian’s behalf. She didn’t mean it yesterday.” “Can’t she apologize herself?” He was stunned for a moment. “She’s still very weak.” “Julian, don’t talk about her. Let’s talk about us. What about the wedding? How do we explain to our relatives and friends?” He was silent for a while. “Once things settle down, we can have the wedding again.” “Again?” I stared at him. “You think this is something that can be done again?” “Then what do you want me to do? It already happened. Sophia. I know you have endured a lot, but Vivian just came back from the brink of death. Can’t we be a little more understanding?” “Again, understanding.” I sighed in my heart. I went into the bedroom, pulled out a suitcase, and started packing. Julian frowned. “What are you doing?” “I’m selling this house.” His face darkened. “Sophia, have you had enough of this scene?” “I’m not making a scene,” I said, folding my clothes neatly into the suitcase. “I just don’t want to live here anymore.” He walked over and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t you dare sell it! This is our home!” “The moment you abandoned it for another woman, it stopped being our home.” Fury flared in his eyes. “You’re being utterly unreasonable!” At this moment, his phone rang. He answered, and soon his tone shifted. “What’s wrong? Another nightmare? Don’t be scared. I’m coming right now.” After hanging up, he released me with impatience on his face. “Sophia, stop this. Vivian’s still shaken. I need to check on her. We’ll talk when I get back.” He thought I would compromise like before. I said coldly, “If you leave, then don’t come back.” His steps halted. He looked back at me with an icy gaze. “Sophia, my patience has limits.” Then he left anyway. Listening to the door slam shut, I placed the last item in the suitcase and zipped it shut.

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After returning from studying abroad, I applied for an internship at my father’s company without telling him—it was supposed to be a surprise. But on my very first day there, I found out that everyone in the company was calling an intern “Princess,” as if she were some kind of heir apparent. I stood there, dumbfounded, and even asked my colleagues again to confirm that the young woman in front of me was really my father’s publicly recognized daughter. But as an only child, I never had a sister! With a cold smirk, I sent my father a message. [Dad, I’m going to intern at our company after graduation.] As always, he replied instantly. [Sweetie, you don’t need to work. Just stay abroad and enjoy yourself after you graduate. I’ve earned more than enough for you to live a carefree life!] I immediately got in touch with a lawyer. [Please help my mother with the divorce proceedings.] *** Employees buzzed around Pearl Edith like bees around honey, flattering her incessantly. I pushed my way through the crowd until I reached her. The middle-aged woman, Norma Sidney, hovering protectively near Pearl, paled the moment she saw my face. “Ahem, everyone, back to your desks. No chatting during work hours.” The staff scattered in an instant, like mice fleeing from a cat, grumbling under their breath, “I thought having the ‘Princess’ here meant we’d get a break, but why’s the lady boss yelling at us?” Hearing them call that woman the “lady boss” only fueled my anger. My mother had no interest in business, and I’d been away for years. It seemed that a mistress had quietly entrenched herself in my family. Pearl looked annoyed. “Mom, didn’t you promise to help me make a show so I could take over Edith Group sooner? I haven’t even had enough time to show off yet.” I let out a laugh. “You want to take over my mother’s company?” Pearl shot me a glare. “Of course. This is my dad’s…” She didn’t get to finish before the so-called “boss lady” shoved her aside. “Shut up and get back to work!” Then, with a tense, sweat-beaded face, Norma growled through clenched teeth, “Shall we talk outside?” Seeing how rattled she was, I casually pulled out a chair and propped up my legs. “Why outside? Is it because you know you’ve done something disgraceful?” Norma gasped, nearly collapsing on the spot, her voice turning to a plea. “Th… This is the office area!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me out, shutting the door on the curious onlookers. That was when I noticed the nameplate on her chest. [Norma Sidney, General Manager’s Secretary] Leading me to an empty hallway, she finally let out a sigh of relief. “You must be Mr. Edith’s daughter, Ms. Daisy Edith. I’ve heard so much about you.” “It was my mistake,” she went on. “I was worried my daughter might be bullied during her internship, so I had her pose as Mr. Edith’s child. Please don’t expose me. Considering all those years I’ve worked here, please do me a favor.” Her expression was so full of maternal worry that it was almost convincing. But I didn’t buy a word of it. Around her neck hung the necklace I’d recently gifted to my mother. I reached out with one finger, hooked the deep green gem, and eyed her with mockery. “Seems your overstepping goes beyond just pretending, Ms. Sidney.” My mother had been raised like a princess, pampered and shielded from the world, with a passion only for collecting jewelry. This necklace had cost me a fortune. My father had promised to personally bring it back from abroad as a gift for her. Now, however, it appeared my gold-digging father had forgotten who my real mother was! I gave the necklace a sharp tug, leaving red marks on Norma’s neck. She instantly burst into tears, looking helpless and pitiful. “Ms. Edith, please, you’ve misunderstood. I’m just a poor mother looking out for her daughter.” I gave a cold sneer and yanked harder, snapping the chain, causing her to lose her balance and collapse. Without another glance, I contacted the lawyer. “I need you to handle my mother’s divorce case.” “Yes, you heard me. I’m calling the shots on this.”

I returned home with the lawyer, who had rushed straight over, and dropped the divorce papers in front of my mother. She stared at us, stunned. “Daisy, are you crazy? Your father and I get along fine. Why divorce?” “Did your dad cut your allowance? Oh, my dear, don’t throw a tantrum. Here, take Mom’s card.” As she pushed a black card across the table, tears spilled down my cheeks. I just couldn’t help it. My mother came from the richest family in Kingsport, raised in silk and shielded from every ugliness the world had to offer. How could I possibly tell her about the despicable things my father had done? Seeing my tears, she quickly moved to comfort me. As she bent down, a fake emerald necklace slipped from her blouse. Catching my stare, she offered a reassuring smile and tucked it away. “Your father said this was the gift you picked out for me. I adore it and keep it with me all the time.” At that moment, I felt a sudden sense of relief. My mother, who’d seen the finest treasures in the world, couldn’t possibly mistake a fake for the real thing. Dad had indeed swapped the gift I gave her. It was just that she thought I’d been tricked, so she still wore it close to her heart, happy and unsuspecting. But the image of Norma wearing the genuine necklace flashed in my mind. Without hesitation, I told her, “Mom, Dad is having an affair.” “And not just that, their daughter is even a year older than me.” My mother’s face drained of color. Her eyes reddened. “Daisy, do you realize what you’re saying?” Clenching my teeth, I slammed a stack of photos onto the table. She picked up the first. When she saw the necklace around Norma’s neck, she froze, then looked at me, pale and shaken. Taking a deep breath, she flipped to the next. As she focused on the second photo, I sighed. “That’s their daughter, Pearl.” “If I hadn’t shown up at the company unannounced today, I never would’ve known there was already a mistress and a so-called princess in our company.” My mother’s tears fell as she reached for another photo. I clenched my teeth. “This is the share transfer agreement. The stocks you entrusted to Dad, you let him manage them, but he handed them over to his lover and their illegitimate child long ago!” She stiffened again, but then her eyes landed on the next photo: a college acceptance letter. Seeing the seal of the medical university, she thought of something. She stopped crying, her expression darkening. I gave a bitter laugh. “That’s true. I was told I’d failed the SATs back then, which is why I had no choice but to study abroad.” “But after my recent investigation, I found out I never failed. It was Dean Edith, that traitor, who switched my scores with Pearl’s!”

As Mom took in my words, her grief slowly gave way to fury. She slammed the table. “That monster! How dare he do this to you!” I let out a breath, glad I’d guessed right. At her age, she might be able to forgive many things, but I could never tolerate a traitor as a father. If I only proved that he had cheated, Mom might be uncertain. But finding out he’d stolen my future was something she could never accept. Gently wiping away her tears, I shook my head. “We can’t change that already. Let’s focus on our situation now.” “Mom, you inherited billions and several public companies from Grandpa. I suspect that while you handed control over to Dad, he used the time to seize everything. That’s why he dares to act so brazenly, parading his mistress in our company!” I expected her to be nervous, but to my surprise, she just smiled knowingly. “Relax, these matters are tightly restricted by the prenuptial agreement. Everything I have is merely managed by Dean. If we divorce, he’ll have to return it all.” “In this case, let’s strip that unfaithful man of everything and leave him utterly humiliated!” Just then, my phone vibrated incessantly. I realized I hadn’t checked the employee notification group, which had already flooded with over 999 messages. [To celebrate the Princess’s successful entry into the company and the upcoming IPO, a banquet has been reserved at Maine Restaurant. Dear employees, all of you and your families are invited!] [Mr. Edith is incredibly generous. I heard the minimum spend per person in Maine is twenty thousand. We’re finally going to see what luxury looks like!] [All thanks to the Princess! Wishing her a long and prosperous life!] Pearl joined in, too, sending her best wishes to the group and stating her ambitions for the company’s future. Watching the cheerful chaos, I curled my lips into a cold smile. What a perfect chance. I’d been wondering how to handle the situation, and Dean had the gall to host a welcome banquet for his illegitimate daughter. Well, if that was the case, I absolutely had to attend the party. I tapped open Dean’s contact and sent him a private message. [Dad, I’m planning to return home today. Will you come to the airport with Mom to pick me up?] His reply came instantly. [Why are you coming back now?] [I mean, do you miss home so much?] [You know what, your mom is going to book a ticket and go keep you company. And I’ll visit after this busy period. Be a good girl and take pretty photos for your mom when she gets there.] I arched an eyebrow and held the phone up for my mother, urging her to take note of Dean’s hypocrisy. But Mom had already recovered from the initial shock. She sat down in front of her vanity, picked up her custom-made, high-end makeup brush, and motioned for me to come closer. “Come on, let’s get you dolled up.” “Time to meet your father and his little family together!”

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Flashing lights lit up Julian’s face, but not his expressions. He remained as cold and unreadable as ever. My boss was beside himself with excitement. He rushed over for Julian’s autograph, then a photo. Seeing me standing there without reaction, my boss kindly turned back and called out to me. “Irene, come take a picture with Mr. Reed!” “He’s the youngest CEO in the world. One photo with him can definitely get our café buzzing! I might even give you a raise!” My hands froze mid-wash. I didn’t look up, but some reporters still saw my face instantly, and the next second, they swarmed toward me. “So you’ve been here all along, Ms. Walker. Once celebrated worldwide for your designs, and now stuck behind a café counter. How does that feel?” “We hear your ex-husband has waited ten years for you, postponing his wedding again and again. What do you make of that?” I ignored them, ignored their questions and microphones that nearly poked my face, and just focused on my work. Still, I couldn’t stop the tremble as I reached for the cups. I knew Julian too well. There was no way he could do that for me. I stayed on guard. The standoff dragged on until Julian stepped in front of me, he blocked the cameras. His expression was so stern. “This is our private matter. We’re not accepting interviews. We appreciate your understanding.” Then he turned to me, his gaze deep and complicated. “Irene.” He paused, as if he had so much to say, and in the end, only said one thing. “Long time no see.” His voice seemed to come from the past, and my hand quivered beyond control. Clatter— A coffee cup hit the floor and shattered. Flying shards cut into my skin. Blood dripped from my fingertips. Julian grabbed my hand instinctively, frowned as if he cared. “Are you alright?” I pulled away at once and apologized to my boss in a rush. “Alan, I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up. Just charge it to my pay.” Before Alan could even respond, a bright, cheerful voice came from the doorway. “Julian, what are you doing here?” “You just left without a word. We’re all worried!” I followed the voice and saw her walking in with a gentle smile. She reached for Julian’s hand naturally and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. I remembered her too well. It was Chloe Bennett—the woman who caused the accident ten years ago. She had become Julian’s fiancée. And behind her… I actually saw my biological parents, who had disowned me like a stranger. Chloe turned to me then, her gaze sweeping over me with a thin smile of contempt on her lips. “Well, isn’t this our greatest architect, Irene? Long time no see.” “Oh, by the way, your parents have made me their goddaughter. I suppose that I should call you ‘sister’ now!” I glanced past her, and there stood my parents. They had aged so much. Their backs were hunched, their hair completely white. A sharp, quiet ache spread through my chest. I couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel if they ever found out their ‘goddaughter’ was the one who made me fall like this. My father snorted coldly. “We only have one daughter, and that is Chloe. A murderer blinded by greed would only make me sick.” My mother clenched her jaw. “Julian, why would you even bother with trash like her?” “Just let her rot away!” Their words hit the café like a cold wind. Everyone, including Alan, looked at me strangely. I turned my face away, swallowing the pain, refusing to meet their eyes. Julian let out a soft sigh. “Don’t blame your parents. That thing hit them too hard.” He gave a gold-embossed business card to me. “I owe you far too much. If you ever need anything, call me.”

I didn’t refuse Julian’s card. Or rather, I accepted it politely like I would for any customer, but that’s all. I didn’t believe he just came for me. And I didn’t expect to see him again. Then, three days later, Alan called, “Irene… I’m really sorry.” “I didn’t know who you were. And people like you should never just stay in a small café.” “I’ll mark you down for full attendance this month and send your paycheck shortly. And today’s your last day.” He hung up before I could say anything. I tried calling back, but I’d been blocked. At the same time, a message popped up, my salary arrived. Four thousand five hundred. Alan had even added an extra thousand, with a note: “Consider this my compensation. My café is small, can’t bear any trouble. Please, spare me another visit.” My heart sank. I knew who was really behind this. Sure enough, Julian’s call came through. “Irene, I can’t undo what happened back then. I hope you understand. But in every other way, I’ll make it up to you.” “That café job was way too much for you, so I took care of it. And I bought you a villa in Portwell. I’ll send you the key. And another thing is about Chloe. She’s still inexperienced and needs someone who knows the drawings. Help her out. I’ll pay you two hundred thousand a month.” My fists clenched so hard they ached. Why? Why could he so easily shove me into the abyss, where loneliness and hatred swallowed me alive? And why after all this happened, could he still carelessly shatter my peaceful life as if he’s some superior savior? Why did he think he could arrange everything for me? Help Chloe? He just wanted me to be her shadow, her tool. The thought of it made my stomach churn. I pressed my lips together and said through gritted teeth. “Thanks for the offer, Mr. Reed, but I have my own life now. Please don’t come to me again.” Julian was silent for a long moment. “Irene, don’t be difficult. A genius like you only truly enjoys working as an architect. I’m taking care of your life and letting you shine, what else could you want?” “Don’t push me, Irene. I’ve got my ways.” And then he hung up. A faint unease settled in my chest. That very afternoon, I found out exactly what he meant. I needed to find another job as soon as possible. But no matter where I went, people only pretended to respect me. I decided to go back home for a rest. But at the door, I found the landlady waiting. She was a kind old lady. When I first came here with no money, she had waived a month’s rent and always brought me her homemade treats. Now, her eyes were red, standing at my doorstep. “Irene… you’re back!” she said, clutching my hand. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t rent the apartment to you anymore. Please don’t blame me…I have no choice.” “Some great man came to town. He said if I let you stay, my daughter, she… she…” Her voice broke as tears ran down. I didn’t want to make things harder for her. That night, I packed my things and moved out. This was Julian’s compensation. Destroying my life… and then arrogantly offering compensation. Ridiculous.

The day I moved out, Julian showed up. He lost weight in just a few days. Dark shadows sat under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept at all. He came with a moving crew and directed them as if this was something he ought to do. His manner was so natural that anyone who didn’t know us would consider him as a husband picking up his wife and taking her home. At the villa, he poured me a glass of honey water. “You’ve always been tense,” he said. “This helps you relax.” I took the glass in silence and had a small sip. It was sweet. So sweet it made my hands tremble. So this must be a part of his “compensation”, it tasted like heaven, but could drag me down to hell in the next second. I set the glass down. “Mr. Reed,” I said calmly, “what happened before is over. If you really wanted to make up for it, you shouldn’t have shown up uninvited.” He froze for a moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his eyes before he masked it. “Irene,” he said softly, “don’t keep pushing it.” “I know what you feel. This is just the first step. I’ll soon find someone to claim the fall and clear your name.” “I know you don’t like Chloe. I’ll keep her out of sight. For now, just rest.” His tone was gentle, but the message was clear. I wasn’t being offered a choice. He wanted control. Absolute control. And Chloe was never going to stay out of sight. The very day I moved in, Julian had barely arrived when she stormed in with a group of reporters. “Julian, I heard Ms. Walker was here. Why didn’t you tell me?” She turned to the cameras, her voice full of practiced sympathy. “She was wrong, of course. But everyone has to live on. I hope Ms. Walker has learned her lesson and will walk the right path from now on.” She pressed a card into my hand. “This is just a small gesture,” she said warmly. “You’re my senior and also my fiancé’s ex-wife. Please take it. If life gets hard, just let us know.” She played her role perfectly. By that afternoon, the news had spread all over Portwell. [Disgraced Engineer Resurfaces After Deadly Collapse, Billionaire Ex Shows ‘Mercy’] [Back Among the Elite: Can the Victims Ever Find Peace?] Suddenly, Julian became the devoted tycoon and Chloe became the gracious fiancée. And once again, I was only the one who got torn apart by public outrage. Whether on purpose or not, Chloe leaked my address. From then on, grieving families and angry crowds gathered outside my home every day. Three days later, my parents came. It was the first time in ten years that they had come to see me on their own. When I saw them standing at the door, the good old memories came back, a spark of hope rose in my chest. “Mom, Dad… You’re here. Come in, have some water.” I stepped aside to welcome them. My father only snorted at me. “We wouldn’t dare drink a murderer’s water.” My mother leaned against the doorframe, her voice tired. “Irene, we can’t forgive what you did back then.” “But don’t keep making the same mistake. We’re begging you. Chloe truly loves Julian. You’re divorced now. Stop clinging to him.” “She’s considerate. She doesn’t want to say it out loud, so we will. Leave Portwell.” “If you insist,” she added quietly, “your father and I will find a way to make you leave.” Her voice was still gentle. The same voice that once sang me to sleep. Now, every word felt like a blade, cutting into my heart until my blood ran out.

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