My boyfriend was hospitalized, so I spent the afternoon making chicken soup and rushed to the hospital to see him. But as I approached his room, I overheard his conversation with a friend: “Your first love is back. Isn’t it time to let that three-year stand-in of yours step aside?” “I mean, now that you’re done with her, let me have a turn. I’ve never been with a woman like her before.” I waited, expecting him to shut his friend down. But instead, Brandon’s voice was calm, almost amused. “Sure, why not? She’s easy enough. Just say a few sweet things, and she’ll jump into bed with you.” That night, while the untouched soup sat cold on my kitchen counter, I found his secret Twitter account. It was filled with years of posts obsessing over his first love, detailing how he had never really gotten over her. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t demand answers. Instead, I quietly booked a one-way ticket to Sea City. On the day of our three-year anniversary, Brandon slipped on the office stairs and sprained his ankle. When I got the call, I rushed to the hospital. He explained that he had been hurrying to the restaurant, worried I’d been waiting too long, and missed a step. I took a few days off work to stay by his side and care for him. On the day he was discharged, some of his friends stopped by to visit. Feeling reassured that he wasn’t alone, I decided to head home and make him some soup. With a warm thermos of freshly made chicken soup in hand, I carefully timed my return to the hospital. The door to his room was slightly ajar, and as I got closer, I overheard voices inside. Brandon’s best friend was laughing, clapping him on the shoulder. “So Aurora’s back, huh? You didn’t have to be that excited about it. Rushing to the airport to pick her up and then falling down the stairs? Classic.” Hearing the name Aurora made my heart skip a beat. Aurora was part of Brandon’s tight-knit college friend group—three guys and one girl. She also happened to be his first love. They dated for two years in college before breaking up when she moved abroad. Even though they ended things, everyone in their circle always talked about how they were “meant to be.” Sometimes, Brandon’s friends would even tease him about it in front of me. In their minds, if Aurora hadn’t left, I wouldn’t even be in the picture. Brandon used to shut them down whenever they brought it up. But this time, maybe because I wasn’t there, he stayed silent. Dylan, his friend, grinned mischievously. “So, your first love is back. When are you planning to kick the stand-in to the curb?” “And hey, once you’re done with her, can I have a turn? I’ve never dated someone like her before.” At this, Brandon finally looked up. He frowned and gave Dylan a light shove. “Chill out,” he said. “Aurora hasn’t said anything yet. Besides, I’m still recovering. I need her to take care of me for now.” My ears were ringing. The world around me seemed to blur as shock gave way to numbness. Dylan didn’t seem to notice. He peeled an orange—one of the ones I had brought earlier—and smirked. “She looks so sweet and innocent, but you’ve told me how wild she is in bed. I’m curious about the contrast.” I clutched the warm thermos in my hands, but the warmth did nothing to stop the icy chill spreading through my chest. I never imagined that the man I loved for three years would talk about me like this behind my back. Brandon’s voice came through the door, cold and detached: “Go ahead if you want. She’s desperate for love—easy to get. I barely had to try to get her into bed.” My chest tightened, the pain sharp enough to take my breath away. Inside the room, they both started laughing, low and cruel. The sound made me feel physically sick. I ran to the bathroom, clutching my mouth, and dry-heaved over the sink. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. So this was what I meant to him. Just a stand-in for his first love, someone he didn’t even respect. I used to think he just didn’t love me as much as I loved him. But now I realized it wasn’t just indifference—it was outright contempt. To him, I wasn’t even a person. I was nothing more than a placeholder, no different from trash on the side of the road. Looking back, it all made sense. His friends had always joked about him and other women, even in front of me, without a care. They treated me like a maid whenever they came over, barking orders while I cooked and cleaned. And why wouldn’t they? Brandon had never stood up for me. Their disrespect was just a reflection of his own. All the “kindness” he showed me was nothing more than an act. I wiped my tears, walked back to the kitchen, and dumped the chicken soup—two hours of effort—straight into the trash. For the first time, breaking up with him felt like the clearest decision I’d ever made. When I walked back into the hospital room, my emotions were firmly under control. Brandon’s face immediately darkened when he saw I’d come back empty-handed. “I thought you said you were making soup for me,” he snapped. “Why are you here with nothing?” Dylan chimed in, clearly enjoying the drama. “Yeah, Stella, Brandon was just telling me how thoughtful you are. Where’s the soup?” His smirk widened as he added, “You know, Stella, there might not be many more chances for you to cook for him. Better make the most of it while you can.” I instinctively glanced at Brandon, half-expecting him to shut Dylan up. But he didn’t. He just sat there, silent, his expression unreadable. Maybe now that Aurora was back, he no longer felt the need to pretend. Or maybe he thought letting Dylan taunt me was a fitting punishment for not bringing the soup. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore.

I stood there silently, my eyes locked on Brandon. This was the man I had loved for three years. I used to think, even if Brandon didn’t love me enough, it would be okay as long as I loved him. Maybe, one day, he’d be touched by my devotion. But now, it felt like the universe was laughing at my naivety. “The soup didn’t turn out great,” I said with a smile, my voice steady. “I already drank it.” I grabbed my lightest bag and walked out of the hospital room first. “Come on, hurry up and pack. Let’s go home,” I added without looking back. I wasn’t going to carry all his stuff like a personal servant anymore. That’s how it always used to be—I’d take care of everything while he walked free-handed. The car ride home was tense. Brandon was clearly upset with me, but I didn’t have the energy to soothe his ego. I needed time to process my own emotions. When we got back to the apartment, one of Brandon’s other friends, Sean, showed up holding a cat. He waltzed in like he owned the place, a smug grin plastered on his face. I froze in the doorway, immediately backing away and covering my nose. “Brandon, didn’t you tell them I’m allergic to cats?” I asked sharply, staring at the fluffy ragdoll cat in Sean’s arms. When I was a kid, a neighbor’s cat had triggered such a severe allergic reaction that I ended up in the hospital for a week. Sean rolled his eyes before Brandon could respond. “Geez, you’re so dramatic,” he said with a smirk. “This is Aurora’s cat. She brought it all the way from abroad—it cost a fortune. I had to beg her just to let me play with it for a few days.” He snorted and added, “Claire, don’t be so difficult.” Brandon, clearly annoyed with me, finally spoke. His expression was cold, his tone sharp. “It’s just a cat. What’s the big deal? You’re not going to die.” His frustration had been simmering all evening, and now, in front of his friend, he let it spill over. Grabbing the cat from Sean, he walked toward me, holding it out like some kind of punishment. “Grow up, Claire. It’s just a little fur. What are you so scared of?” Brandon knew full well how severe my allergies were, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to prove a point, to humiliate me in front of his friend. As I backed away, he kept advancing. The cat let out a sharp yowl, clearly uncomfortable with how tightly he was gripping it, and suddenly, it leapt out of his hands—straight at me. I tried to dodge, but its claws raked across my neck, and I inhaled a mouthful of cat hair. Within seconds, my throat began to close up. My chest tightened, my heart pounded, and cold sweat broke out all over my body. “C-call an ambulance,” I gasped, struggling to breathe. Brandon just scoffed, arms crossed. “Stop faking it, Claire,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. It was Sean who finally noticed how pale I’d become. “Dude, she’s not faking!” Sean said, panic creeping into his voice. “We need to call 911, now!” By the time they finally decided to act, I had collapsed onto the floor, barely conscious. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was Brandon’s panicked face as he and Sean scrambled to call for help. When I woke up, I was alone in a dark hospital room. Because of their so-called “joke,” I had nearly gone into anaphylactic shock and had to be rushed to the hospital. Now, there wasn’t a single person by my side. A nurse came in, turning on the light and quietly changing out my IV. “You have a severe allergy to cat hair,” she said gently. “You can’t afford to be around cats again.” I gave her a weak smile and asked, “Do you know when the people who brought me here left?” She frowned, clearly hesitant to answer. “You mean those three guys?” she finally said. “They left as soon as we told them you were stable.” Her brows furrowed in disbelief. “Honestly, I thought they were just strangers. They didn’t seem very concerned.” I forced out a bitter laugh. “One of them is my boyfriend,” I said quietly. “Though not for much longer.” I picked up my phone and saw a message from Brandon. “We’re heading out for dinner. If you’re fine, just get a ride home.” Twenty minutes ago, Dylan had posted a photo on Instagram. “Reunion with old friends. Feels so good!” The picture showed the four of them—Brandon, Dylan, Sean, and Aurora. In the photo, Brandon was gazing at Aurora with unmistakable tenderness. His eyes held a warmth and longing that he’d never once shown me. They looked like a couple in love, completely absorbed in each other. Staring at that picture, I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. My chest ached so deeply it felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was time to face reality. Brandon had never truly loved me. Aurora was the one he wanted. She had always been the one. And now that she was back, I was nothing but a placeholder, someone to fill the void until she returned. To him, I had no value beyond that.

It hit me suddenly—Brandon was always typing away on his Twitter app, yet I’d never seen him post anything. A knot of unease twisted in my stomach as a thought surfaced. I began digging through his social media, searching for answers. His own Twitter account was blank, but in his “Following” list, I found an account named  Miss U, Aurora. My hands trembled as I clicked on it. The IP address matched his. The account had been active for six years, with thousands of posts. It felt like I had just opened Pandora’s box. What I found inside left me speechless. Every single post was about Aurora. The words overflowed with obsession, longing, and a love so painfully raw it was almost suffocating. The account began as a diary of their relationship but later turned into a public shrine to his unending devotion to her. “November 9, 2021: I got into a relationship with someone else. I won’t wait for you anymore.” That was the day Brandon finally agreed to date me. I had no idea how many times I’d confessed my feelings to him before he reluctantly said yes. Now I understood why. That was the day Aurora left for Europe. “March 10, 2022: I slept with someone else. What choice do I have when you’re dating someone new?” I remembered that night vividly. Brandon had shown up at my apartment drunk, begging me not to leave, whispering sweet nothings until I gave in. “May 16, 2023: Are you really never coming back? I hate you—I’ll never forgive you!” That was the night he put a diamond ring on my finger. He’d held me so tightly and promised, with a look of tenderness in his eyes: “Claire, I’ll marry you.” My breathing grew shaky, and I couldn’t bring myself to read any further. I scrolled to the most recent post, the one he had written just a few days ago: “I’ve lost to you again. After all these years, I still can’t let you go. I’ll love you forever.” Attached was a photo of him and Aurora, holding hands and smiling. Tears slipped down my face, blurring the screen. I felt like I had been ripped apart, betrayed in the cruelest way imaginable. For three years, I had poured my heart into a relationship that was never mine to begin with. Brandon’s love had always belonged to Aurora. Even after she left him, even after she abandoned him for years, he continued to cherish her. He would have done anything to win her back. And me? I was nothing. My hands shook as the truth settled in. No wonder Brandon never fought with me—he never cared enough to. No wonder he never noticed when I was upset—I was never important to him. No wonder he had been so distracted that he fell down the stairs. It wasn’t because he was rushing to meet me—it was because Aurora’s sudden return had completely consumed him. I forced myself to stay calm as I took screenshots of everything, saving every post as evidence. At least now I knew the truth. If I hadn’t overheard him that day, if I hadn’t stumbled upon his secret Twitter account, I might have spent my entire life believing his lies. I might have kept fooling myself into thinking he had let go of his first love. But now, I was done. I had seen the kind of man Brandon truly was. Beneath his polished, charming exterior was a selfish, deceitful heart. There was no reason to stay in this relationship any longer. As I sat there, my phone buzzed with a call from my boss. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to sound normal as I answered. “Claire, there’s an opportunity to transfer to the Sea City branch,” my boss began. “It’s a director-level role, and I think you’d be perfect for it. The position doesn’t come around often. What do you think?” I hesitated. This wasn’t the first time I’d been offered a chance to advance my career. Last year, I had turned down a dream opportunity in France because I wanted to stay in Riverdale and build a life with Brandon. But now? Now there was no reason to hold myself back. “Thank you for the opportunity,” I said firmly. “I’d love to take the job in Sea City.” For the first time in months, I felt a sense of clarity. The pain in my chest was unbearable, but my brain was screaming at me to save myself. After hanging up, I immediately booked a flight to Sea City for a few days later. When I was discharged from the hospital, I went straight home to pack. I didn’t bother trying to find Brandon. He was probably with Aurora anyway. The next day, as I sat in the back of a cab on the way to the airport, I saw Brandon’s secret Twitter account had been updated again. “Seeing her again, I couldn’t hold back.” The attached photo was another picture of him and Aurora, their fingers intertwined. I stared at it for a moment before scrolling past, my heart aching but my resolve unshaken. A text message from Brandon popped up on my phone: “You were discharged yesterday? Where are you? Why isn’t your stuff here?” I ignored it. He called me over and over, but I declined every single call. Then, just before my flight, a call came in from an unfamiliar number. I answered, and Brandon’s panicked voice shot through the line: “Claire, where are you? When did you come home? What’s going on?” I let out a quiet laugh, the sound bitter and devoid of warmth. “Brandon,” I said calmly, “I know Aurora’s back.” “She’s the one you’ve always loved, isn’t she?” I could almost feel his silence on the other end of the line. “Now that your first love has returned,” I continued, my voice steady, “it’s time for the stand-in to step aside.” The flight attendant’s announcement chimed in the background, signaling takeoff. “Claire, what are you talking about? Where are you?” Brandon demanded, his voice rising in frustration.

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After our honeymoon, my husband and I returned home with hearts full of joy, eagerly anticipating our sweet life together as newlyweds. To our surprise, my mother-in-law had intentions of clearing out my house to use it as a wedding home for my husband’s younger brother. I was shocked and looked at my husband beside me. He mumbled vaguely about “being one family” and even tried to persuade me to endure it for his brother’s sake. “Charlie, hurry up and open the door! I’m exhausted!” I called out. With a click of the lock, the door swung open. The sight that greeted me was the same decoration from when Charlie and I had our wedding. I quickly kicked off my shoes and dashed towards the bedroom, thinking of taking a nice, long nap. But as soon as I opened the door, I saw my mother-in-law and a strange woman sitting in my bedroom. I froze, wanting to question them but not knowing where to start. My mother-in-law was the quickest to react. She stood up and said to me, “Opal, you and Charlie are back so soon! Let me introduce you – this is Jack’s girlfriend, my future daughter-in-law, and your future sister-in-law, Snow.” The woman called Snow blushed shyly. “So you’re my sister-in-law! I’ve heard so much about you from Jack. He said his sister-in-law is capable and beautiful. Now that I see you, it’s all true,” Snow said with a warm smile. Although I was annoyed by their unexpected presence in my home, sitting on my marital bed, I still maintained a friendly facade, following the principle of not hitting a smiling face.

“What? You want her to live in our house?” I suddenly raised my voice, utterly incredulous! My mother-in-law quickly stood up and covered my mouth, “Opal, keep your voice down. Don’t let Snow hear in the next room.” She glanced towards the doorway several times. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Trying to keep my expression neutral, I asked my mother-in-law, “Mom, if she lives here, where will Charlie and I stay?” “Opal, Snow came all the way from another state because of her love for Jack. She doesn’t have any friends or family here except us. Whether out of kindness or courtesy, I can’t let her stay in a hotel. It’s my fault for not being capable enough. I haven’t saved much money over the years, I can’t even help my son with his marriage…” Her response only made things worse. She started pouring out her grievances to me. I couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Wasn’t I a new bride too? I glanced at my husband beside me, Only to see him looking at his mother with sympathy, completely oblivious to my discomfort. Great! He’s no help either!

Before I could say anything more, Charlie jumped in: “Mom, please don’t be like this. It breaks my heart to see you this way.” Charlie grabbed his mother’s hand, his face full of concern. I didn’t say anything, just sat quietly watching the scene unfold before me. After a while, Charlie finally convinced his mother to go to another room, Leaving just the two of us in the spacious room. Charlie looked at me, his lips quivering a few times, hesitating before finally seeming to make up his mind to speak, “Opal, you know my family’s situation. I’m married now, I’ve got a good wife. My brother has finally found a girlfriend who’s willing to be with him. I can’t just stand by and watch my brother’s marriage fall apart… Opal, can you bear with it for a while?” Charlie was almost pleading with me. I looked at the man before me, nearly six feet tall, now hunched over like a shrimp, bowing and scraping, I couldn’t help but recall how vibrant and energetic he was when we first met.

Charlie and I met during a basketball game in college, Charlie’s team represented our department in the finals, and we girls acted as cheerleaders to support them. He stood out in the crowd, a tall guy over six feet, with a muscular build. Through his loose jersey, I could even clearly see the abs hidden underneath. He was sweating freely on the court, making one cool shot after another. What girl doesn’t have a crush? The youthful Charlie captured my heart in an instant. Perhaps it was fate, but later I was chosen to be a cheerleader. This gave me the opportunity to interact with Charlie, Later, I found out we were from the same hometown, which gave us even more to talk about, so we often chatted and ate together. We were interested in each other, just never expressed it openly. Until that year, when Charlie’s father suddenly passed away. This hit him hard. When Charlie returned after the mourning period, he was depressed all day, surrounded by a gloomy aura. I couldn’t bear to see him like this, so I stuck by him every day. Until one day, I took Charlie out drinking to drown his sorrows, In his drunken state, Charlie poured out his grievances to me. It was then that I learned Charlie’s life wasn’t as good as it seemed, quite different from the sunny and positive image he always portrayed.

Charlie’s family background was very ordinary, even poor, you could say. Charlie lived with his parents and younger brother in a small house less than 500 square feet in a small town, His father did odd jobs, while his mother was a traditional housewife, taking care of the household and doing mending. So when Charlie’s father passed away, it was as if the sky had fallen on the family… Listening to Charlie’s story, I felt both sympathy and admiration for him. I felt sorry for his poor background, but admired him for working hard to get into this prestigious university despite his circumstances. I was moved by Charlie’s resilience, and I also wanted to help him out of his gloom, So, Charlie and I started dating. We were a handsome couple, the envy of many on campus. I was convinced by Charlie’s resilient and hardworking qualities, So even though his family conditions weren’t good, I was willing to stay with him without hesitation. I had feelings for Charlie, Seeing Charlie in this state now, I ultimately couldn’t bear to refuse his request. However, I made it clear that the house was only for her to stay temporarily, Once she and Jack got married, she should move out and live with Jack, as Charlie and I still needed to live in this house.

When Charlie and I got married, his family was poor and couldn’t afford decent gifts or a grand wedding ceremony, I knew Charlie, as the eldest son, had it tough, so I never pressured him about anything. My parents, worried about my well-being and afraid I might suffer, bought a house for me in full. That house was meant to be our marital home. After the wedding, my parents paid for Charlie and me to honeymoon in Bali, We had just returned today. I hadn’t even lived in this marital home for a few days, and now I was being asked to give it to someone else. Although I was displeased, considering Charlie’s feelings, I didn’t want to say much more. Seeing my agreement, Charlie was moved to tears. He hugged me tightly, saying I was suffering and he would make it up to me in the future. That night, Charlie and I went to his mother’s house to stay for the night, As soon as we entered, I could see the cramped space, The old furnishings, and the smell of cooking oil that filled the entire house made me very uncomfortable. But I looked at Charlie beside me and ultimately held back, saying nothing. After Charlie’s father passed away, as the eldest son in the family, Charlie naturally shouldered more responsibilities. I lay on the slightly loose bed board, covered with a quilt that smelled faintly of mildew, I forced myself to close my eyes and sleep, but the result was a sleepless night. The next morning, I faced Charlie with two panda eyes. He looked at me, wanting to say something but hesitating, Without asking, anyone could see that I hadn’t slept well last night.

After breakfast, Charlie and I hurried to a nearby real estate agency to look for a house, We both knew well that I couldn’t adapt to his family’s environment and couldn’t live there. Through the agent’s introduction, Charlie and I chose a fully furnished apartment that we could move into immediately. Soon, we signed a three-month lease. I thought that no matter what, three months should be enough time for Snow and Jack to settle their marriage, right? So that day, Charlie and I moved into this temporary rented apartment with all our belongings. During this time, I also became quite familiar with my future sister-in-law, Snow. Snow was very kind and warm towards me, always sweetly calling me “sister-in-law” whenever she saw me, Eating, drinking, shopping, and taking walks together, for a while, I felt as happy as if I had gained a sister. Through our interactions over these days, I learned that Snow was an orphan who grew up in a foster home, Looking at this girl who was always smiling, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her in my heart. Snow and Jack met online, and she had traveled thousands of miles to pursue her love and marry Jack. She was a very brave and free-spirited girl. Days passed, and before we knew it, more than a month had gone by, On this day, while the whole family was having dinner together, Jack announced his marriage to Snow, The date was set for the beginning of next month. I glanced at Snow sitting across from me, she was like a white jasmine, smiling shyly.

As the wedding date approached, I could feel Snow becoming more nervous. Out of sympathy for Snow, and out of care for someone who would soon be family, I often spent time with her during this period, Helping her with various tasks, hoping to ease her nervousness and help her relax. On this day, while chatting with Snow, I casually mentioned where she and Jack would live after getting married, Snow looked at me with confusion and said, “We’ll live in the house I’m staying in now, why do you ask, sis?” Hearing Snow’s words, I felt my heart tighten, and I repeated, “You and Jack will live in the house you’re staying in now?” Snow looked at me, though confused, she patiently said, “Yes, sis! Jack said the house I’m living in now will be our future marital home, and he had already decorated it before I came. Jack is such a thoughtful man…” I watched Snow’s face grow happier as she spoke, while my heart grew colder. That evening, as soon as Charlie got home, before he could even change his shoes, I ran up to him, “Charlie, your brother wants to use our marital home as his marital home.” Hearing my words, Charlie was visibly stunned. “Honey, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Could it be that Charlie didn’t know about this? Looking at the confused Charlie, I couldn’t help but wonder. “…, That’s how it is. I found out accidentally while chatting with Snow today.” As I explained the situation to Charlie, I observed his reactions, but until I finished, he just frowned and remained silent. My face was cold as frost, “Charlie, whether you knew about this before or not, you should understand the situation now. I don’t care if it was your brother’s or your mother’s idea, you’d better give me a satisfactory answer.” Actually, before Snow finished speaking, I had already guessed that regardless of whose idea it was, the ultimate goal was to give my house to Jack as his future marital home. Charlie seemed unnerved by my stare, “Honey, don’t be angry. Let me go ask Mom and Jack about this.” Without waiting for my response, Charlie grabbed his coat and hurried out the door.

It wasn’t until late at night that Charlie returned, looking exhausted. He turned on the light, only to see me sitting in the darkness, “Honey, why aren’t you sleeping so late? Why are you sitting here?” “Waiting for your solution,” I said, raising my almond eyes to look at Charlie calmly. We stared at each other for who knows how long, Charlie’s mouth opened and closed, not knowing how many times, before he finally seemed to make up his mind and said, “Honey, let’s lend that house to Jack for a while.” “Lend it to him for a while? How long? Ten years or twenty years? Or lend it to him for a lifetime?” My voice carried a coldness that even I hadn’t noticed before. “Honey, I only have one brother, and besides, don’t we have a place to live now? What’s wrong with letting him use it for a while?” Charlie’s tone even carried a hint of taking it for granted. Later, Charlie tried to persuade me for a long time, but I neither agreed nor rushed to refuse. Instead, I told him I would think about it. I don’t know what kind of nonsense Charlie’s mother and brother had fed him, but this Charlie was one I had never seen before. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep thinking about this matter, Then I heard Charlie’s phone buzzing non-stop. Annoyed and distracted, I picked up the phone intending to switch it to silent mode, but accidentally glimpsed a message from his mother to Charlie, “Charlie, how’s it going?” Out of curiosity, I opened the chat history between Charlie and his mother.

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As Emma, my girlfriend, received the Best Esports Coach award, she tearfully said she wanted to thank her love. Just as I was about to step onto the stage, Jack, her newly recruited player, beat me to it. He embraced Emma and taunted me, “Captain, I’ve always respected my seniors, but don’t you think some old-timers should know when to step down?” Emma didn’t refute him. Instead, she praised his ambition and hung the medal around his neck as if they were a couple. The whole audience cheered for this esports power couple. But I just smiled, tossing the captain’s badge directly to Jack. I applauded and said, “You’re right. You’re the captain now. Don’t disappoint everyone at the World Championship.” My words left everyone in the room stunned. They all knew about my injured hand, how I had competed multiple times while on painkillers, risking everything. They also knew how dedicated and responsible I was as a captain. On stage, Jack fingered the edge of the captain’s badge, smirking as he pushed further, “What’s the use of this captain position to me? Ryan, don’t you think you’re too old and slow now? You’re holding the team back.” I knew what he meant. He wanted me to quit the competition altogether. In his youthful arrogance, he believed the team’s successive victories were all thanks to him. But Emma knew better than anyone who had elevated this ordinary team to the World Championship. Yet now, Emma just hid behind Jack, her eyes dark as she silently clenched her fists, not saying a word. Seeing her awkward state, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at myself. Three years ago, I could have become the first person in esports history to lead a team to the World Championship title with an undefeated record. But to save Emma from being hit by a car, I injured my hand, ending my professional career. Some even accused me of faking the injury to avoid competition. Back then, Emma hugged me, crying her eyes out, saying she owed me and would spend her life by my side. From that day on, she said she would be my hands. Six months ago, she asked me to make a comeback. I finally led the team to the World Championship stage, and she successfully won the Best Esports Coach honor. Yet now, at a time like this, she didn’t say a word in my defense, allowing Jack to mock and ridicule me. Coming back to my senses, I took a deep breath, rolled up the sleeve of my right arm, revealing the ugly, centipede-like scar extending from my wrist to the back of my hand. I casually told everyone, “Well, my old injury has flared up. I won’t be holding you back in the competition anymore.” With that, I turned and left the venue. The weather was bad today, and my wrist was throbbing with pain, cold and sore to the bone. To make my comeback, I had trained twice as hard, disregarding my injury. I was already at my limit. I knew that with my current injury, even if I made it to the finals, my hand would be ruined by then. I reached into my pocket, intending to take another painkiller, but my fingers touched a velvet box instead. Taking out the box, inside was a shimmering diamond ring, reflecting tiny sparkles of light. Originally, I had planned to propose to Emma today, but it seems that was all for nothing now. I probably wouldn’t need it in the future either. I lowered my eyes and walked to a trash can, about to throw the diamond ring away. From behind, Jack’s sarcastic voice came: “Oh, come on, you weren’t planning to propose to Emma, were you?” I turned around, facing Jack’s undisguised malice and mockery. “Emma is the Best Esports Coach, with a long future ahead of her. Ryan, what about you? A has-been who should have completely left the esports world three years ago, do you think you’re worthy of proposing to her?” Emma saw the diamond ring in my hand, her pupils suddenly constricting. She was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, “You shouldn’t have quit the competition out of anger. I’ll tell everyone later that you were just joking earlier.” Seeing her evasive expression, I casually stuffed the ring back into my pocket. I changed my mind. Instead of throwing the ring away, I might as well sell it and recoup some of my losses. After all, I had spent over a million dollars custom-making it. Jack bumped Emma’s shoulder, chuckling, “Emma, you insisted he come back to help me win the competition, but now it seems completely unnecessary. I didn’t find him that impressive at all!” I was a bit stunned. So, six months ago, when Emma suddenly proposed my comeback, it was only because Jack needed a stepping stone. Such blatant favoritism. In the past, I might have been upset or angry about this realization, maybe even argued with Emma. But now, I found it utterly boring. I ignored Jack’s provocation and headed home with my head down. Unexpectedly, as I turned a corner, I was suddenly struck on the back with a blunt object. Before I could react, I was kicked hard in the back of my knees. My legs gave way, and I half-knelt on the ground, my knees scraping painfully against the surface. The next second, a sharp pain shot through my right wrist, as if a needle was traveling through my entire body along my blood vessels. The person who attacked me moved in front of me. It was Jack. He was holding a baseball bat, making a couple of practice swings as he said with a smile, “Ryan, since you’re quitting the competition, let me send you off properly. Don’t thank me too much.” I belatedly realized that my right hand had been deliberately broken by the baseball bat. But now, I was covered in cold sweat, my face pale, my chest and back soaked through. I couldn’t utter a word. Suddenly, Emma’s voice called out, “Jack, where did you go? Didn’t you ask me to buy you a drink? How did you end up here!” Seeing me half-kneeling on the ground, cradling my broken hand, Emma dropped the water she was holding. She rushed over in panic, staring at my limp hand with wide eyes, and asked in a lost voice, “Your… your hand?!” My chest heaved twice as I stared hard at Jack, the culprit. Emma looked uncertain, her eyes darting between Jack and me. Jack quickly jumped in, “Emma, a group of people suddenly came out and attacked Ryan. I wanted to save him, but I was a step too late…” He lowered his eyes like a child who had done something wrong, deliberately hiding his hands behind his back. Emma’s attention was drawn away. She straightened up and said urgently, “Are you hurt too? Let me see quickly!” Jack reluctantly showed his hand, which had a few scrapes on it, probably from deliberately bumping into something. Despite the shallow wounds, Emma blew on them gently, then let out a long sigh, almost relieved as she said, “Thank goodness, they were targeting Ryan. You only got scratched…” Seeing the near-relieved smile on Emma’s face, I was a bit dazed. In the past, she had been most concerned about my hand, even more worried about my injury than I was myself. She never let me carry heavy things, and on rainy days, she would stay by my side to keep my hands warm, knitting countless gloves for me. Even when I occasionally did some housework and got a few red marks on my hands, she would cry out of concern, saying she hadn’t taken good care of me. Now, she was condoning Jack breaking my hand. In front of me, Jack held Emma’s hand and reminded her, “Emma, it’s almost training time. I want to practice a few more formations.” Emma nodded. Turning around, she took out her wallet and threw a few bills at me, instructing, “Ryan, the competition is coming up soon, and training is important. I’ll take Jack back to the base first. You go to the hospital to treat your wound yourself, I’ll come find you later.” I watched as she left for the base with Jack without any hesitation. After a long while, I let out a cold laugh and took a taxi to the hospital alone. The doctor told me that my hand had suffered a comminuted fracture, and with my old injury, it was as good as useless. I felt no waves of emotion about this. I had known this day would come, hadn’t I? On the way home, I called Mark, the owner of the team’s club. When I was famous before, I had earned quite a bit of money and invested in this then-unknown small team. On the surface, Mark was the boss, but in reality, I was the one who held the real power of life and death. On the other end of the phone, the boss was so shocked he spat out a mouthful of water, exclaiming, “What? You want to withdraw your investment? But the team is about to win the World Championship, and we’ll be rolling in money then. Isn’t it too much of a loss to withdraw now? Besides, this team is your brainchild!” Yes, all of this was my hard work, and also the beautiful memories I shared with Emma. But now, I didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. I said in a low voice, “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll sign the contract tomorrow.” Mark sighed deeply, very regretful, but could only agree in the end. After discussing this matter, I unconsciously walked to my front door. I felt utterly exhausted and just fell onto the bed, drifting off to sleep. I was awakened by the pain in my hand. Opening my eyes, I saw Emma gently cradling my fixed hand. Her eyes were downcast as she softly kissed my exposed fingers. “I’m sorry, I forgot today was a rainy day. No wonder you were in a bad mood.” This wasn’t the first time. For the past six months, on every rainy day, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t sit still, tossing and turning all night. Now, I didn’t care about any of this anymore. Seeing that I didn’t speak, she didn’t get angry. Instead, she smiled and said, “Ryan, are you hungry? I bought a lot of ingredients to cook you a feast, okay?” With that, she went out on her own. I took out my phone, and the screen was full of news praising how great Jack was and how high the chances were for Jack’s team to win the championship. Before I could scroll through much, I heard Emma calling me for dinner. A table full of delicacies: blanched prawns, steamed crab, a seafood feast. I didn’t touch a single dish because I’m allergic to seafood and hate the fishy smell. Emma urged, “Why aren’t you eating? It won’t be as fresh and sweet if it gets cold.” Seeing that I still didn’t speak, her brows furrowed, and she looked displeased. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Emma went to open it, and the next second, her previously impatient expression turned excited: “Jack, you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for you for so long.” Jack walked in with his shoes on, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food on the table. He even hugged Emma directly: “Emma, you really understand me. These are all my favorites!” In an instant, I understood everything. It turned out Emma had mainly cooked for Jack, and I was just an afterthought. I didn’t say anything, quietly leaving the table and walking to the balcony to smoke. Operating with one hand, the lighter’s blue flame was extinguished by the wind several times before I managed to light up with difficulty. In the haze of smoke, I remembered how Emma used to love me so much, able to remember every minute detail of my food preferences. When she took me out to eat, she would even specially instruct the chef for half an hour on how to cook the dishes, how much seasoning to use. Every time, the waiter would praise her for being a top-notch girlfriend, saying I was lucky. But now, everything had changed. The person in her heart had been replaced. Coming back to my senses, the cigarette had burned to its end. My finger flinched from the burn, and the cigarette butt fell to the ground. “Didn’t I tell you to smoke less? It’s not good for your health.” From behind, Emma’s slightly reproachful voice sounded. My heart tightened. Usually, when she said this, it would be followed by a torrent of nagging that would make my ears ache. But the next second, Emma suddenly hugged me from behind, intimate and gentle. Because her head was pressed against my back as she spoke, her voice was a bit muffled as she asked in confusion: “Ryan, are you jealous of Jack? Why?” “Don’t you think Jack is very similar to you? I’m doing all this to make up for your regrets from back then!” “You missed out on the World Championship for my sake back then. Now Jack is trained by me, if he wins, it’s like you winning too!” I rubbed my finger that had just been burned, feeling absurd. Is the way to make up for regrets to let me watch her transfer her love, admiration, and care for me to another man? I once comforted her, saying that even if it happened a hundred times again, no matter the cost, I would still save her in that car accident. It was she who couldn’t let go, couldn’t see it clearly. Now it was clearly she who had a change of heart, yet she was the one acting all righteous and saying it was for my sake. I was about to pull her hands away. But Jack barged onto the balcony, sneering: “Alright Emma, what’s the point of talking to someone like him? I just thought of a new strategy, come back to the base with me and see if we can use it!” This time, I didn’t have to take the initiative. Emma let go of her hands directly. She turned to wipe the grease from the corner of Jack’s mouth with a handkerchief, smiling indulgently: “Okay, I’ll go with you.” As if suddenly remembering me, she frowned slightly and said seriously: “Ryan, think carefully about what I said. Stay at home and reflect on it.” I rolled my eyes inwardly and just mumbled a response. As soon as they left, I contacted a moving company. I had lived here for over twenty years, and I wasn’t about to leave town just because I was breaking up with Emma. More importantly, a new rookie esports team in the city heard that I had quit the competition and contacted me to be their coach. I agreed immediately, planning to move into the dormitory they had prepared for me. I had always loved esports. If it weren’t for helping Emma, I might have opened an esports training school to nurture talent long ago. Tonight, as usual, Emma didn’t come back. Every time Jack came up with a new game strategy, Emma would spend the whole night researching it with him, sleeping directly at the base. In the past, I would worry and sleep at the base with her. Now, I was busy packing. After packing everything, I went to the base to sign the divestment contract with Mark. But as soon as I stepped into the base, I heard a commotion. “As expected of Jack, this is what a true genius is like. Having you is a blessing for our team!” “That’s right! I’ve long thought you should be the captain. That Ryan guy only made it to the World Championship riding on your coattails. He got too cocky!” Emma’s eyes sparkled, looking at Jack’s profile with near infatuation, praising him incessantly: “Jack, you’re truly brilliant. You’re the most outstanding esports player I’ve ever seen.” Catching sight of me from the corner of his eye, Jack deliberately said loudly, “This is nothing, it’s just discovering a better jungling route. How can it compare to our almost-world-champion Ryan?” His tone was full of sarcasm and ridicule. Emma only then noticed me. She came over smiling and said, “Ryan, you’ve come at the right time. Jack needs a training partner, and you’re perfect for it!” I frowned: “No training.” Was she blind? Couldn’t she see my hand was still in a cast? Emma didn’t take my words seriously. She grabbed my injured hand, gently squeezing my fingers, and said in a wheedling tone, “Just this once, okay? Jack really has talent, his potential is even higher than yours. He can go further than you!” I raised the corner of my lips in a mocking smile. In the past, she had said that even if I hadn’t won the World Championship, I was still the perfect esports player in her heart, an uncrowned king. She said the reason she was still in the esports world, striving to be an esports coach, was to make sure people didn’t forget me, to clear my name. But since my comeback, Emma had been treating me like a training tool. My training load was several times higher than others. Several times I was so exhausted I couldn’t lift my hand, yet she never showed any concern. In her heart, Jack, this more perfect, younger player, was much more valuable than me, an already washed-up person. Coming back to my senses, I shook off her hand, still shaking my head in refusal. She clenched her suddenly empty hand, her eyes suddenly turning suspicious as she bit her lip and said, “Ryan, how did you become so irresponsible? Have you forgotten how ambitious you used to be?” “Or is it that you’re jealous Jack is more talented than you, and you deliberately don’t want him to surpass your achievements? How are you any different from those who kicked you when you were down back then!” As soon as she finished speaking, her face turned pale, knowing she had said too much. Indeed, the knife cuts deepest when wielded by those closest to you. Back when I was injured and lost the competition regrettably, everyone said I was faking the injury out of fear of strong opponents. Some even suspected I had taken money to throw the game. Even teammates who had once fought side by side with me mocked me as useless, even giving me insulting nicknames. Being misunderstood and ridiculed had always been an indelible shadow in my heart. Emma had been even more indignant than me, vowing to make those people eat their words. But now, for Jack’s sake, Emma was stabbing me in the heart again. Jack put his arm around Emma’s shoulders, rolling his eyes arrogantly: “Forget it, I don’t want to train with someone like him anyway. When I win the World Championship, I just hope certain people won’t go around bragging under my name!” Emma shook her head, looking at me with disappointment: “Ryan, you’ve disappointed me so much. Do you know what you’ve missed? You’ve missed the chance to win the World Championship. This might have been your last chance.” “With your current age and skill level, do you think you still have the ability to compete in the arena? If we weren’t a couple, I wouldn’t have even recruited you into my team!” Her chest heaved twice, her eyes turning sharp, her voice cold: “Ryan, I’m giving you one last chance. Go be Jack’s training partner, or else, let’s break up!” I laughed bitterly. Since when had Emma started looking down on me like this? Even if my physical abilities had declined, my game sense was still far above all other esports players in the country. Over the past six months, for Jack’s sake, this wasn’t the first time she had threatened me with breaking up. In the past, I would have been terrified, agreeing to all her unreasonable demands, afraid of her leaving me. Now, I said indifferently: “Fine, let’s break up then.” Emma’s previously smug expression froze. She bit her lower lip, her beautiful eyes widening, about to speak. Just as the tension was reaching its peak, Mark came out of the office, asking puzzled: “Ryan, why didn’t you say you were here? Come in and sign the contract!” Everyone present looked a bit confused. Mark smiled and explained: “You don’t know yet? Ryan is an investor in our team.” Jack sneered, jumping in: “How much could he possibly invest? I think someone just can’t face staying in the team anymore and is running away with his tail between his legs.” Others chimed in to mock me: “Jack is the rising star. Our team doesn’t need Ryan’s little bit of money.” “That’s right, Jack can earn that back with just one advertisement!” Mark frowned deeply, about to rebuke them. I looked at their smug faces and curled my lips into a smile. Because I suddenly thought of a better time to withdraw my investment. Before Mark could speak, I interrupted: “Mr. Li, I’ve reconsidered. I won’t withdraw my investment for now.” Hearing this, Mark’s expression changed from anger to joy. He repeatedly praised the decision, rubbing his hands as he said: “Ryan, you’ve finally come to your senses. Our team is about to win the World Championship, we’ll make several small fortunes at least!” Emma’s expression, however, was somewhat unpredictable. Although she didn’t know how much I had invested, she seemed to realize that my quitting the competition and withdrawing my investment, along with our previous argument, was different this time. I was truly angry. Thinking of something, she came back to her senses, took a deep breath, and said softly: “Ryan, you know our team has a promising future. Given that you’ve come to your senses, come back. I’ll have Jack give you back the captain position.” “If you want, I can agree to marry you on the day we win the World Championship.” She knew how to manipulate me, knowing that I had always dreamed of marrying her. But now, I didn’t believe her anymore. I shook my head. “No need for all that trouble. Let’s break up. I’ll leave you the house we live in, consider it a breakup fee.” With that, I ignored Emma’s suddenly ashen face, not waiting for her to speak before turning to leave. Time flew by, and before we knew it, it was the day of the competition. I deliberately dressed in a high-end suit and styled my hair before heading to the competition venue. While retrieving something, I passed by the rest area. Emma was carefully massaging Jack’s hands, helping him relax his muscles. She lowered her head with a serious expression, tirelessly reminding him, “If you get nervous during the match, just take a sip of water, but don’t drink too much.” This scene was just like how she used to treat me before each of my matches. Jack smiled and said, “Emma, you’re so considerate. How about this? After I win the World Championship, I’ll shout your name on stage and confess my love to you. What do you think?” Emma’s face turned crimson. She lightly punched Jack’s chest, coyly saying, “After winning the World Championship, you can’t be as outspoken as you are now. You’ll be in the public eye, with many endorsement deals. A lot of people will be watching your every move!” The others let out a collective “Ooh,” loudly teasing, “Sister Emma, why don’t we get the same treatment as Brother Jack? You’re playing favorites!” “Brother Jack, don’t forget to help us out in the future. When you two get married, I’ll be your groomsman!” I looked away, raising an eyebrow. Laugh while you can. They won’t be laughing for long. … Not long after, the competition was about to officially begin. All the players were seated in their positions, ready and waiting. Just as the host was introducing the team names and participating members, I took one step and jumped onto the stage. The host looked at me uncertainly. Jack took off his headphones and suddenly stood up, frowning as he said, “Ryan, didn’t you quit the competition? What are you doing here? This is not a place for someone like you. Get off the stage!” Emma also emerged from the rest area, grabbing my arm and saying sternly, “Ryan, you chose to quit yourself. Now, no matter how much you beg, I won’t let you compete. This is your lesson. Now get down quickly!” The audience, seeing this turn of events, wore mocking and scornful expressions: “Certain people who faked injuries three years ago and are still faking injuries now should stop embarrassing themselves.” “I’ve never seen someone so thick-skinned. Is he that desperate for esports attention? Someone should just retire already!” I rolled my eyes inwardly. These people sure have active imaginations. I shook off Emma’s hand and laughed coldly: “No need to compete.” Hearing this, Jack sneered: “Who do you think you are? You say we don’t compete and we don’t? Do you know the strength of our Storm team?” Emma frowned deeply: “Ryan, stop disrupting the competition!” Even the host looked at me with confusion, hesitating as he said, “Mr. Han, if you continue like this, I’ll have to call security.” I smiled, pulling out my divestment contract and showing it to the entire audience. “I am Storm team’s largest investor. I hereby announce my divestment, and Storm team is disbanded effective immediately!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295322”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #校园School #狼人Werewolf #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn

My wife’s true love had an accident, and she was convinced it was my fault. No matter how much I swore, no matter how many times I begged or provided evidence, Karen refused to believe me. She was certain that I, driven by jealousy, had tried to kill her beloved Michael. So, she made her decision. Cold and decisive, she sent me off to a hellhole of a coal mine to “reflect on my sins.” Life in the mine was brutal. The work alone could break a man, but that wasn’t enough for Karen. She made sure I received “special attention”—round-the-clock torment from the guards she’d paid to oversee me. I didn’t last long. Karen didn’t bother to check on me until three years later. By then, I’d been dead for over two years. Three years ago, Karen accused me of attempted murder and had me sent to a coal mine to reflect and atone for my supposed sins. No matter how much I pleaded, no matter how many pieces of evidence I presented, even if I got down on my knees and begged her, she refused to listen. She was convinced that, out of jealousy, I had plotted to harm the love of her life—Michael. Life in that coal mine was anything but easy. Especially when Karen had arranged for “special care” to ensure my suffering continued day and night. It didn’t take long before I died there. When Karen, her expression cold and her brows furrowed, arrived at the mine with her bodyguards to “check on me,” I had already been dead for two and a half years. “Whether he agrees or not, I don’t care. Tie him up if you must, but get his signature on the donation form!” The visiting room was warm and cozy, but her icy voice cut through the air, making the temperature feel like it had plummeted to the dead of winter. She looked around with irritation, clearly disgusted by her surroundings, and snapped at her bodyguards, “What’s taking so long? Bring him out to see me—now!” After what felt like an eternity, the foreman of the mine finally appeared at the door. But he wasn’t bringing me with him. “Karen, I’m sorry to make you wait, but…” “But what?” Karen’s expression turned instantly colder. The foreman stammered, “It’s just… Daniel won’t be able to come see you.” “Won’t see me? Ha!” Karen sneered. “What’s that supposed to mean? Enjoying himself too much here? Three meals a day without a care in the world while he hides from me?” “Tell him this: as long as he voluntarily donates a kidney, I’ll let him stay here as long as he likes—even until he dies!” She ordered the foreman to deliver the message, thinking it’d lure me out. What she didn’t know was that I was already floating above her, my ghost watching her with a bitter smile. The foreman didn’t move. Karen noticed his hesitation and immediately narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong? Is Daniel that unwilling to see me?” The foreman shook his head quickly. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… he’s not here anymore. He hasn’t been here for a long time.” Of course. All that was left of me was my invisible spirit. My body had been gone for years. The day I died, they couldn’t stand how gruesome my corpse looked, so they threw me out. By now, I’m sure my body has been reduced to fertilizer by some stray dog out there. Karen, however, didn’t believe a word of the foreman’s explanation. She ordered her bodyguards to keep an eye on him as she began searching the mine herself. Room by room, she went—checking the dorms, the break room, the kitchen. She even scrutinized every name on the employee roster. But no trace of me could be found. Her frustration grew with every passing moment. Rage simmered beneath her icy demeanor as she turned back to the foreman. “I told you no one was to let him leave. Are you deaf, or do you just enjoy defying my orders?” The foreman, who had been nothing but her loyal lapdog, would never have dared to let me go. Three years ago, when Karen’s men tortured me until I was barely alive, I had begged the foreman on my knees to let me out for treatment. He hadn’t even flinched. I had bled, I had wept, I had smashed my head against the ground until it was covered in blood, but the foreman never once relented. Karen sat down, her face frostier than ever, and gave the foreman one last ultimatum: “You have five minutes. Bring him to me.” Cornered, the foreman sighed deeply and finally confessed. “Karen… I’ll tell you the truth. Daniel is… he’s dead.” “He died horribly. His entire body was covered in wounds. The walls and floor were smeared with blood from where he bashed his head and clawed with his fingernails until they were gone. The day he died, we… we threw his body out to the dogs.” Karen didn’t believe him. If anything, her irritation only deepened. “Stop lying to me. What did Daniel offer you to help him escape? Do you think you can deceive me and get away with it?” “Michael’s been stuck in a wheelchair for life because of him. Does he think death will excuse him? Or worse, did you two conspire together to fool me?” The foreman panicked. “No, no! Karen, I wouldn’t dare! You’re my boss—I’d never betray you!” Desperate to prove his innocence, he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a photograph, placing it on the table. “This is a picture I took at the time. Please, Karen—don’t let anyone else see it…”

Karen cast a doubtful glance at the foreman, her gaze landing on the photo he placed before her. The moment her eyes focused on it, her pupils contracted sharply. The image showed a figure, barely recognizable as human. The body was contorted into an unnatural, agonizing curve, covered head to toe with cuts, bruises, and swollen welts. Blood streaks ran across the face, obscuring any identifying features. The skin was a patchwork of dark purple scabs, with no unbroken area to be found. The fingernails appeared to have been ripped out, exposing raw, bloody tissue beneath, where nerves and flesh were left mangled and torn. From the state of the body, it was clear—the person in the photo was long, irreversibly dead. Karen froze for a moment, her eyes widening involuntarily. But soon, she broke into a cold, mocking laugh. “The makeup job is impressive. For a second, I almost believed this was Daniel.” “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to fall for this? How could he possibly end up like this? All he does here is eat, drink, and work in the mine. What could’ve hurt him this badly?” “And,” she added with a sneer, “if he really was dying, why wouldn’t he be taken to a hospital? No, this is obviously fake!” Her words stabbed at me like knives. Floating invisibly above her, I felt a deep ache in my hollow chest. It was her, after all, who arranged for me to be “taken care of,” ensuring I could never leave. How could I have died here in such misery if she hadn’t ordered it? I remembered the last time they beat me. After that, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I knelt on the ground, begging the foreman to call her. But she had only relayed a single message: “If he’s going to die, let him die quickly. Don’t disgust me with his whining.” Even though Karen had clearly stopped caring about me, my will to survive still burned. I smashed my head against the ground repeatedly, the sound echoing through the grimy room. Blood mixed with dirt, forming a dark, sticky sludge that dripped down in slow, heavy drops. The foreman, perhaps out of some faint flicker of pity, finally spoke to me. “It’s not that I don’t want to let you out. It’s just… what’s the point?” “You got money? The nearest hospital’s hundreds of miles away. How do you plan to get there? And don’t forget, all your ID—everything that proves who you are—is in your wife’s hands.” “Just hold on. If you make it through this, it’s fate. If you don’t… well, that’s fate too. Next time, kid, marry someone kinder.” His words made me laugh bitterly. Fate, huh? I collapsed onto the floor like a deflated balloon, utterly defeated. Blood bubbled up from my mouth, but I swallowed it back down, forcing myself to crawl toward the dormitory. Maybe I could rest there for just a little while. But rest was a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore. Ten minutes later, the foreman had me dragged from my bloodstained bed and thrown back into the coal mine. That was where I finally collapsed for the last time, never to rise again. Karen glanced at the foreman, whose face was filled with unease, and let out a cold scoff. “Enough with the theatrics! Stop wasting my time!” “Tell Daniel to get his ass out here. If he agrees to donate his kidney, I’ll let him go—and I’ll even throw in an extra $20,000.” Floating above them, my spirit felt colder than the bitterest winter wind. So this was it. My kidney was worth $20,000 to her. Less than the cost of one of the designer jackets she’d bought for Michael. Let alone the millions she’d casually spent on that concept supercar for him, a gift she didn’t even blink at. Her indifference? That was reserved only for me. All her love—all her warmth—was saved for Michael. The foreman continued to try to explain, but Karen was stubborn, convinced that I was hiding somewhere and that the two of us were conspiring to deceive her. “You said he’s dead? Then where’s the body? The grave? A single photo isn’t proof of anything!” “I’m warning you—if you don’t hand him over today, I’ll make your life a living hell.” With no other option, the foreman gritted his teeth and led her outside to a barren patch of land. Pointing at a small, overgrown mound, he said reluctantly, “This is where we dumped him.” Karen’s face darkened as she issued a cold, cutting order to her bodyguards. “Dig. I want him found—alive or dead.”

Digging up someone’s grave is seen as a line you simply don’t cross—a vile act, no better than arson or murder. But Karen stood there, cold and detached, watching her bodyguards claw away at my grave with shovels, showing not a shred of sympathy. I hovered above, staring at her in pain and disbelief. I never thought her hatred for me could run this deep. The foreman, perhaps feeling a twinge of guilt, stood off to the side with his hands clasped together, muttering prayers under his breath, as though hoping my ghost wouldn’t come after him for vengeance. But his moment of solace didn’t last long. A bodyguard grabbed his arm and dragged him to the edge of the now-dug-up mound of dirt. The grave was empty. Nothing. No bones. No body. Just cold, barren soil. “Where is he? Where are the bones? Didn’t you say Daniel was buried here?” Karen’s voice was sharp, the kind of sharp that precedes an explosion. She glared at the foreman, her anger bubbling beneath the surface like a volcano about to erupt. “It’s just dirt!” she snapped. “You better not be telling me you got the wrong spot!” The foreman’s eyes widened as he stared into the empty pit, disbelief plastered all over his face. “I… I swear this is the right place! I saw wild dogs sniffing around his body, and I—I couldn’t stand it! That’s why I buried him here myself! This… this doesn’t make sense!” Even I felt a flicker of confusion. My body was here—wasn’t it? Karen, though, had run out of patience. She folded her arms and cut him off with a bitter laugh. “So, let me guess—now you’re going to tell me the dogs dug him back up and ate him?” “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. All these years, and no one’s ever managed to fool me like this before!” Her voice grew icier with every word. “Daniel. You. All of you. You’re all just great.” The foreman stammered, trying to explain, but before he could get another word in, Karen’s phone rang. The second she saw the name on the screen, her frosty demeanor melted away entirely, replaced by a softness so tender it was almost sickening. “Michael,” she cooed, her voice dripping with warmth. “How are you feeling today? Don’t worry—I’ll make sure Daniel willingly donates his kidney for you!” Michael. Him. The very person responsible for me being thrown into that coal mine. The reason I suffered and died in agony. The one who started it all. On the other end of the line, Michael’s voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “Karen… you really don’t have to go through all this trouble for me. My condition—” “Stop it!” Karen interrupted, her tone suddenly frantic, as though the mere suggestion of giving up was unbearable to her. “Don’t say things like that. I promised you I’d save you, and I will!” “If it weren’t for you donating one of your kidneys to me back then, I might not even be alive today. And now your other kidney is… well, don’t worry. If Daniel’s is a match, I’ll track him to the ends of the earth if I have to!” I frowned. Wait, what? Since when did Michael save Karen’s life? There was a brief pause on the other end of the call before Michael hesitantly asked what was going on. Karen explained the situation—how I had supposedly “disappeared” and how no one could find me. And then, to my shock, Michael said something that made my non-existent heart skip a beat. “That’s impossible,” he said, sounding surprised. “Daniel just called me earlier today. He said he’s leaving the country.” He paused before adding, almost casually, “Oh, and he said he left something for you at the old house. Once you see it, everything will make sense.” What?! I wanted to scream, to yell, to warn Karen not to believe him. He was lying! He was manipulating her, like he always did. But no matter how hard I tried, no sound came out. Even when I floated right in front of her, waving my hands wildly, she didn’t notice me at all. After hanging up the phone, Karen’s expression turned ice-cold again. She shot one last glare at the foreman before turning on her heel and leaving without another word. Half an hour later, Karen arrived at the old house where we used to live. It was a modest two-bedroom place—a cozy little home that had once been our sanctuary, filled with warmth and love back when we were happy. Without hesitation, Karen pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her face was set in a hard, determined expression, but there was a flicker of something else—nostalgia, maybe, or bitterness—as her eyes scanned the familiar surroundings. In the living room, on the coffee table, she spotted an envelope. She picked it up, opened it, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. There was only one sentence written on it. “Karen, you’ll never find me.”

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### Because of my sister’s death, my parents came to despise me completely. “You’re so cruel! Why wasn’t it you who died instead?” “Don’t call me Mom. I’m not your mother anymore. You don’t have parents. Get out of this house!” They didn’t just cut me off—they replaced me. They took in a girl they had been sponsoring for years through a charity program, treating her like the daughter they wished they’d had. Years later, that girl developed kidney failure. My mother, a coldly methodical doctor, didn’t hesitate. She harvested one of my kidneys to save her. My father, a high-powered executive and ever the enabler, refused to cover my medical bills. I was left to fend for myself, discharged from the hospital with nowhere to go. Just a few hours after the surgery, a brain tumor I’d been silently battling flared up. I collapsed alone, in the middle of a filthy, reeking alley. And there, surrounded by garbage, I died—forgotten and unloved. I’m dead now, but the searing pain in my back still clings to my soul. I floated helplessly through the hospital halls, my spirit anchored to that place. There they were—my mother and father—sitting anxiously by Ellie’s bedside. Their faces were etched with worry, their eyes fixed on her with a tenderness I had never known. They had never looked at me that way. For me, their eyes were always cold, filled with disgust. “You’re nothing but a burden! Just get out of my sight!” “Don’t come back! I’ve done enough for you. We’re done!” And now, outside Ellie’s hospital room, I heard my mother’s voice, sharp and dismissive: “Thank God Sofia’s kidney was a match for Ellie. That useless girl finally served a purpose!” Three hours ago, my own mother had taken my kidney. As punishment, she refused to allow any anesthesia. I was strapped to the operating table, unable to move, unable to escape, writhing in excruciating pain. Her voice echoed in my mind, cold and detached: “This is what you deserve for killing your sister. You have to atone for your sins.” “This pain? It’s exactly what you should feel.” My father stood nearby, silently watching, handing her the scalpel without hesitation. For years, I thought I had been the one who caused my sister’s death. But as I lay there, consumed by the agony of losing my kidney, fragments of a long-buried memory surfaced. It wasn’t me who pushed my sister into the water. It was Ellie—the girl my parents had so lovingly taken in.

Sometimes, I wonder if the truth even matters. After all, my parents hate me so much. But I still found the strength to call my father, desperate to tell him what I had remembered. His response was a cruel, mocking laugh. “Lying again, huh? Do you even hear yourself?” “How could I have raised a daughter like you? Ellie would never do something like that. She’s perfect. But you? You’re the only one capable of something so vile.” Prejudice is like a mountain—unyielding, immovable. And in my father’s heart, that mountain had been standing tall for years. Convinced I was lying, he refused to pay for my hospital stay. “Dad, I don’t have any money…” I pleaded. “Liar!” he spat. “Aren’t you always working part-time jobs? You’re just too selfish to spend your own money!” He didn’t know my part-time job earnings went to pay for medication. Long shifts, skipped meals, endless stress—I had worked myself into stomach cancer. But there was no point in telling him. When I showed him my diagnosis report, he barely glanced at it before ripping it to shreds. “Do you think I have time for this nonsense?” he snapped. “I’m perfectly healthy, and I’m twice your age. You’re young—how could you possibly have cancer? Faking a medical report? Really? If it’s true, then just go ahead and die already!” Now I’m dead. But it wasn’t cancer that killed me. It was the post-surgery infection I couldn’t afford to treat. When I told my father I had spent all my money on medication, he scoffed. “Then sell yourself!” he said with a sneer.

A nurse called my mom to let her know I had disappeared from my hospital room. “She should be in her bed, recovering. We can’t find her anywhere,” the nurse explained. My mother sighed, clearly annoyed. “So? What do you want me to do about it?” she said. “Do you think I can magically find her?” When Ellie went missing, my mom had been frantic, calling everyone she could think of to help. But for me? She didn’t care. Standing next to her, Dr. King, an attending physician, frowned. “That girl didn’t look well the last time I saw her,” he said. “Her lips were pale. She probably shouldn’t have been out of the hospital in the first place. As her mother, shouldn’t you have noticed something?” Even strangers showed me more concern than my own mother. But she quickly cut him off. “Do you even know what she’s done?” she snapped. “That girl is no daughter of mine. My husband and I disowned her a long time ago. If she’s gone, it’s just another one of her attention-seeking games. She’s always pulling stunts like this.” “She’s not missing,” my mother added dismissively. “She’s just waiting for us to come running after her like usual. It’s her only trick.” Dr. King stared at her in disbelief. “Even if that’s true, she’s still a child. How can you be this heartless? She’s your daughter!” “Not anymore,” my mother said coldly. “If she’s dead, let me know so I can collect the body.” Dr. King was furious. “I thought doctors were supposed to be compassionate,” he said, his voice trembling with anger. “But you can’t even show basic decency to your own child. It disgusts me.” He stormed out, leaving my mother unfazed. I felt guilty for causing Dr. King so much frustration. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have had to argue with my mother. After my father refused to pay my hospital bills, the nurses tried to reassure me. “No parent would just abandon their child,” one of them said gently. “Just stay here and rest. They’ll come around eventually.” But I knew better. I knew my parents far more intimately than they could imagine. To avoid causing the hospital any more trouble, I dragged myself out of the room, my legs weak and unsteady. Somewhere behind me, I heard a nurse calling out: “Wait! You just had surgery—you’re not well enough to leave!” Another voice muttered, confused: “When did she even have surgery? I don’t see her name on the schedule…” Now I’m gone. I’ll never be a burden to anyone again.

They waited anxiously outside the operating room. My mom, usually so confident in her medical expertise, was pacing nervously. For once, the composure she prided herself on was nowhere to be found. “What if something goes wrong?” she murmured, wringing her hands. “I performed Ellie’s surgery myself… but what if I missed something?” My dad tried to reassure her. “She’ll be fine,” he said firmly. “Ellie’s a fighter. Everything’s going to be okay.” I drifted above them, watching through the window as Ellie lay in her hospital bed. Her surgical wound had been stitched with meticulous care, her body tucked neatly under a soft blanket. She looked serene, like a child resting peacefully in a world where she was deeply loved. She was the daughter nurtured and cherished by my parents, their pride and joy. But me? I was never that. When my mom stitched my wounds, her hands were rough, her movements hurried—like even a moment spent caring for me was a waste of her time. I remembered the nurse who had tried to stop her earlier. “Dr. Turner,” the nurse had said hesitantly, “you still have other patients waiting in your clinic today…” But my mom cut her off sharply. “Cancel everything. Reschedule all of them. I’m not seeing anyone else until Ellie wakes up!” “But some of them drove hours to see you…” “And? Let them book someone else, or they can wait! I don’t care. My focus is on Ellie right now—nothing else matters.” It was rare to see my mom so emotional. She was usually the perfect professional: her white coat pristine, her glasses perched neatly on her nose, her demeanor precise and detached, like a machine engineered to respond to every patient’s needs. But whenever Ellie got sick, her calm façade shattered. She became frantic, consumed. The nurse fell silent. Then my mom seemed to remember me. She frowned and turned to my dad. “Where’s Sofia?” “She’s gone,” my dad said with a shrug. “I didn’t pay her hospital bills.” Mom smirked. “Good. That’s exactly what we agreed on.” And then, as if nothing had happened, they began discussing how to use the money they’d saved on my medical expenses. “We should get Ellie a surprise,” my mom said, her voice soft now, almost giddy. They went online and ordered everything they could think of: a massive bouquet of fresh flowers, Barbie dolls, stuffed animals, glittering toys… The packages arrived quickly, and soon the gifts were piled high, a colorful mountain of every little girl’s dream. As I watched them, I couldn’t help but think of something else—a memory from not so long ago. I was sitting near a garbage dump, tired and weak, my body aching from the infection that was slowly killing me. A little girl passed by with her mom, holding a worn-out teddy bear. The girl frowned, wrinkling her nose at the toy. “It’s so ugly!” she complained before tossing it into the trash. As they walked away, the girl glanced back at me a few times, her eyes filled with curiosity. Maybe she was wondering why I looked so dirty, so ragged. Maybe she thought I was ugly too. I stared at the discarded teddy bear. Its fur was matted, its seams fraying, but its button eyes still gleamed brightly in the sunlight. For a moment, I wanted to move. I wanted to reach out, grab that little bear, and hold it close. But then I stopped myself. The bear, even in its brokenness, was still too good for someone like me. I didn’t deserve anything beautiful.

They were brainstorming what else they could do to make Ellie happy when my dad suddenly snapped his fingers. “Ellie’s always wanted to feel like she’s truly part of our family. Why don’t we just make it official? Add her to our family records!” My mom’s face lit up with approval. “That’s a great idea! Go grab the paperwork right away!” As my dad hurried off, a nurse approached my mom, her expression tense. “Dr. Turner, this isn’t just some misunderstanding. Several people saw Sofia leave the building on her own. She just had surgery—where could she possibly go?” “And there was blood,” the nurse added hesitantly. “A lot of it. The janitor’s still scrubbing the floors—it’s everywhere.” From the third-floor railing, you could see the trail of blood leading all the way out of the hospital doors. The janitor, hunched over, was painstakingly cleaning it up. I watched from above, feeling a pang of guilt. I was sorry for making her job harder. But at the time, I couldn’t stop the blood. It kept pouring out, soaking through everything. I was terrified. It felt like I was bleeding out every drop of life I had left. My mom glanced at the nurse, clearly annoyed, and waved her off dismissively. “Stop telling me about her! God, I’m so sick of this! Why is everyone so concerned about that girl? Honestly, the world would be better off if she just died and got it over with. Then we’d all have some peace!” “Do you think you know her better than I do? I’m her mother! This is just another one of her dramatic stunts.” The nurse hesitated, then turned and left, likely realizing there was no point in arguing. Just then, Dr. King stormed down the hallway, his face flushed with anger. He marched up to my mom, clutching a stack of papers in his hand. “You took your own daughter’s kidney… to save your foster daughter?!” He held up the documents, his voice shaking with disbelief. “If I hadn’t checked the surgery logs today, I wouldn’t have even known! Do you realize that harvesting an organ without proper authorization is illegal? You’ve broken the law! And that was your biological daughter! Do you have any humanity left?!” Dr. King’s hands trembled as he thought of the girl in the operating room—me. He’d watched the footage of the surgery, seen the pain I endured, and now his chest tightened with rage and sorrow. This man, a stranger to me, felt more for me in that moment than my own family ever had. My mom faltered for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. She reached into her bag and pulled out a document: the organ donation consent form. “She signed it herself,” my mom said coolly. “I didn’t force her.” Technically, she wasn’t lying. She had tossed the blank form onto the table in front of me and said, “Ellie needs a kidney, and you’re a perfect match. If you have any sense of decency, you’ll know what to do.” I had stared at those bold words on the paper, my stomach twisting with dread. My hand instinctively touched my side, where my kidney was. I hesitated. That brief pause was all my mom needed to unleash her fury. “I knew it!” she snapped. “You’re a selfish, ungrateful brat! You killed your sister, and now you’re just going to sit back and watch your little sister die too?” “It’s just a kidney,” she continued, her voice dripping with scorn. “You have two—you’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m asking for your life!” Her disappointment in me was palpable, cutting deeper than any scalpel. Her eyes burned with contempt, making me feel like I was nothing. She didn’t force my hand, but the weight of her disdain crushed me until I signed the paper, tears blurring my vision. Dr. King’s voice broke through the memory, furious and unrelenting. “She’s your daughter. How could she possibly refuse you?” “Even if she signed the form, did the hospital approve it? Was it filed properly? And you think you can just use the hospital’s resources for a personal surgery? Do you even remember the oath you took as a doctor?” My mom’s confidence wavered for a moment, her eyes darting away. But then she straightened her shoulders, her tone turning defensive. “I’m scheduled to represent the hospital at the medical conference next week,” she said. “My paper on internal medicine is being published. Do you really think the hospital can afford to lose me right now?” Dr. King’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. Seeing that she had regained the upper hand, my mom softened her tone, her voice almost sweet. “Trust me,” she said. “Once Ellie wakes up, I’ll go look for Sofia. I’m sure she wouldn’t want her mother to lose her job over this.” Dr. King clenched his fists, his face red with anger. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” he said, his voice low but firm. With that, he grabbed his lab coat, tore off a piece of the fabric, and threw it to the ground. It was a symbolic gesture, a severing of ties. My mom’s eyes flickered with something—regret? Anger? It was hard to tell. But then she rolled her eyes and muttered, “That old fool thinks he’s so important.” She turned back to the pile of gifts they had bought for Ellie, her expression hardening. “And Sofia,” she said under her breath, “she’s nothing but trouble. Always has been.”

While my dad was on his way back from the house, carrying the paperwork to make Ellie their official daughter, he passed by the dumpster behind the hospital. Something about the air made him pause. He furrowed his brow, pulled out his phone, and called me. Of course, I couldn’t answer. Frustrated, he ended the call and started typing furiously instead: “Sofia, how long are you going to keep this up? Haven’t you had enough of your little tantrum?” “Fine. If it’s about money, I’ll pay your hospital bill. But seriously, for someone your age, you’re already such a manipulative little schemer. Enough with the games!” He thought I was just sulking, throwing another fit to get his attention. If he had just taken a moment to glance at the pile of trash in front of him, he would’ve found my body. I was right there, buried under that heap of garbage. Through the haze, I could even see my own foot, peeking out from beneath a crumpled chip bag. But he didn’t look. He just spat on the ground in irritation and walked away. When he returned to the hospital, Ellie was awake. Pale and fragile, she lay against the pillows, her eyes fluttering open. Dad’s face lit up as he rushed to her bedside. Mom was already there, arranging a mountain of stuffed animals around her, their colorful shapes crowding the bed. A fresh bouquet of flowers sat on the windowsill, dew glistening on the petals. Ellie’s face brightened with joy. “Thank you, Uncle and Auntie!” she said, her voice weak but full of gratitude. Dad grinned and leaned closer. “Oh, there’s an even bigger surprise for you!” He pulled out the paperwork he’d brought back, holding it up proudly. “How would you like to be our real daughter? From now on, you can call us Mom and Dad.” My dad—a man who had faced boardrooms full of CEOs, negotiated million-dollar deals—was suddenly nervous, his voice trembling with anticipation. Even my mom, usually so composed, seemed a little anxious. “Ellie,” she said softly, “you… you don’t think we’re too old, do you?” Tears welled up in Ellie’s eyes. She choked back a sob and whispered, “I just… I just feel so lucky. So happy…” And then they hugged, the three of them, a picture-perfect family wrapped in their own little bubble of joy. It was the kind of ending you’d see in a movie—warm, perfect, full of love. I watched from above, my spirit suspended in the air. But my heart felt hollow, as if a piece of it had been carved out. Blood ties are supposed to be the strongest bond in the world. But for me, they were chains—binding me so tightly that they cut into my skin, leaving me bleeding and broken. If I hadn’t been their child, maybe I could’ve run far, far away. Maybe I could’ve escaped this family without hesitation. But I wasn’t so lucky. Downstairs, a piercing scream shattered the quiet of the hospital grounds. “Someone’s dead!” “There’s a body in the dumpster!” The sound carried faintly, but my family didn’t hear it from where they stood. They were too far away, too caught up in their moment of happiness. Then a nurse came running, her face pale with shock as she reached my parents. “We found Sofia!” she blurted out, her voice trembling. Mom and Dad turned to her, startled. “She’s dead,” the nurse continued, struggling to keep her composure. “That body in the dumpster… it’s your daughter.”

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Boyfriend’s First Love Fakes Jumping into River, I End Up Abused ### The last thing Aria ever said to me was: “Do you know what’s stronger than true love? Dead true love.” And with a faint, bitter smile, she leapt off the high bridge. By some cruel twist of fate, Tyler and my brother happened to witness the exact moment she jumped. From that day forward, my life became a relentless act of atonement for Aria. Whenever Tyler or my brother thought of her, they would drag me back to that bridge, pressing my head down against the cold, rough pavement, forcing me to apologize for something I could never undo. For five years, I lived in the dust, crushed under the weight of their grief and my guilt. Tyler eventually stopped calling me a murderer. My brother, for the first time in five years, sat across from me at the dinner table. It felt like I could finally breathe again. But then Aria came back. She showed up out of nowhere, tears streaming down her face as she ran toward them, telling them how hard the past five years had been for her. I stood there silently, watching as their anger reignited. When they turned toward me, ready to shove my head down again in the name of her pain, I made my decision. I looked at them, then at the bridge. And just like Aria had done years ago, I jumped. This time, it’s my turn to start over.

On the seventh day after Aria jumped, Tyler and my brother, Brandon, tied a thick rope around me seven times before tossing me aside like a piece of trash. “Brandon,” Tyler growled, “if you hadn’t lied about me while I was drunk, Aria wouldn’t have spiraled into depression!” Tyler’s voice cracked with anger, but Brandon snapped back. “Oh, give me a break! You were the one stringing her along, breaking her heart over and over! I just helped you make a decision!” Their argument raged on, every word cutting through me even though I wasn’t the topic of their blame. My mouth was sealed shut with duct tape, my eyes wide with fear. I could only writhe on the ground, helpless like an insect, letting out muffled cries in a desperate attempt to get through to them. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. I couldn’t die yet—because I was carrying Tyler’s baby. Finally, their argument ceased, but they both turned toward me with matching looks of hatred. My heart raced as I squirmed faster, trying to crawl away. Tyler grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the edge of the bridge. My torso dangled over the guardrail, and I froze, paralyzed with terror. Behind me, Brandon took a deep drag of his cigarette, his voice trembling with tears. “Hannah, they still haven’t found Aria’s body. She’s probably lying cold and alone at the bottom of that river. God, I just want to throw you down there to join her!” Tyler’s hand shook as he clung to my hair. His voice cracked into a sob as he shouted at me. “Hannah, I married you! Why couldn’t you just leave her alone? You knew how hard Aria’s life was, didn’t you?!” My head was yanked back, my throat choking on silent screams as tears streamed down my face. I didn’t do it! She called me to that bridge! I didn’t say anything to her! Why wouldn’t they believe me? Suddenly, Tyler released me with a look of utter disgust, shoving me to the ground. “Hannah,” he spat, “I won’t let you die so easily. From now on, every single day you live will be to atone for what you did to Aria.” I curled up on the ground, clutching my stomach. I won’t die. My baby won’t die. We’ll survive this. We have to.

That night, I washed the dirt and fear off my body, then crept into the bedroom, trembling. When Tyler saw me, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Why are you here, you murderer? If I sleep next to you, I’ll probably dream of Aria crying!” I froze, instinctively hiding the pregnancy test behind my back. Tyler smirked and pulled something out from under his pillow—a white dress. He threw it at me. “Unless you put this on, I don’t even want to think about letting you into this room.” I swallowed hard, my hands shaking as I unfolded the dress. Of course. It was Aria’s dress. Is this how the rest of my life is going to be? Living in humiliation under her shadow? I touched my stomach, tears brimming in my eyes as I forced a bitter smile. “Tyler, the dress is too tight. I don’t think it’s going to fit me.” His expression darkened. He grabbed the pillow next to him and hurled it at me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the impact, and when it hit, I finally shouted. “Tyler, I’m pregnant!” The room went silent. For a brief moment, I dared to hope. I opened my eyes, praying to see even a flicker of happiness on his face. Instead, he let out a twisted laugh. “Hannah, is this what you’re bragging to Aria about? That you’re carrying my child?” Then his laughter turned to sobs as he clutched his head in his hands. “I’m guilty too. I killed Aria just as much as you did. And now someone like you is having my baby?” His head snapped up, his face twisted in anguish. His voice turned pleading, though his eyes burned with rage. “Hannah, we can’t keep this baby! It’s already stained with blood!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I stepped back, trembling as he lunged toward me. Tyler grabbed me and dragged me to the edge of the bed, pinning me down. One hand gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open, while the other rummaged through the nightstand. He pulled out a bottle of pills—birth control—and began shoving them into my mouth. Tears streamed down his face as he muttered under his breath, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s just not the right time.” I struggled, shaking my head, trying to spit the pills out, but he wouldn’t let me. He didn’t stop until the pills were gone, then collapsed on the floor, his body shaking with sobs. I stumbled out of the room, my legs barely holding me up, and shakily dialed a number.

“Brandon, please,” I begged through my tears. “Take me to the hospital. My baby is in danger!” There was a pause, then laughter—cold, drunken laughter. “Hannah, you’re pregnant? And with Tyler’s kid? Do you think that’s fair to Aria, lying at the bottom of that river?” I froze, my heart sinking. I had forgotten—my brother wasn’t the man he used to be. The more he had loved Aria, the more he had come to hate me. I stumbled out into the road, cursing myself for never learning to drive. “You’ll never need to,” Tyler had once said with a smile. “I’ll be your driver for life, my little princess.” The house was far from the city, and it took me hours to catch a ride to the hospital. But just as I reached the nurse’s station, I felt a sharp warmth between my legs. My heart sank, and everything went black. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. Tyler sat beside me, his face weary and his eyes bloodshot. “My baby…” I whispered. Tyler’s voice was flat, empty. “Hannah, the baby… is gone. It’s gone to atone for us. For Aria.” He tried to sound calm, but his red eyes betrayed him. He had been crying. Was it for Aria? Or for the child we had lost? I pulled the blanket over my head and sobbed silently. I thought he’d be happy. Instead, he killed our baby with his own hands.

After that day, the three of us—Tyler, Brandon, and I—became nothing more than walking corpses, trapped in a cycle of guilt and blame. I could never understand why Aria chose death as her way of punishing us. Brandon had loved her to the point of madness. He even betrayed his own brother, Tyler, by getting him drunk and sending him to my bed. The day I lost my baby, Tyler and I stopped sharing a room. We both saw the other as a murderer, each of us stained with blood, an invisible wall of resentment keeping us apart. Every year, on Aria’s death anniversary, Brandon would lose his mind. He’d come to my house, tie me up, and vent his pain all over again. Tyler would stand in the corner, smoking, watching it all unfold with cold indifference. But on the fifth year, Tyler finally spoke. “Brandon,” he said quietly, exhaling smoke, “Aria was so kind… Do you think she’d want us to live like this?” Brandon froze, his hands gripping the rope, staring at me. My face was numb, as it had been for years. He yanked me close by the collar and growled, “I’m letting you go—not because I forgive you, but because I don’t want to go against Aria’s wishes.” How disgusting. I could barely muster a smile. Aria, kind? Was it kindness when she falsely accused me of breaking her mother’s keepsake, forcing Brandon to make me kneel at her mother’s grave until my forehead bled? Was it kindness when she cried and played the victim, making everyone believe I was bullying her? Ever since the my family adopted Aria, I—their biological daughter—had been treated like an outsider. But for the first time in five years, the three of us sat down at the same table for a meal. Tyler, his eyes red and swollen, raised his glass and muttered, “I’m sorry,” before downing the whole thing in one gulp. For a moment, it felt like a sliver of light had broken through the suffocating darkness. But then Brandon suddenly stood up, his face pale with shock as he stared at the doorway.

“Tyler, Brandon! I thought I’d never see you again!” There she was—Aria. After disappearing for five years, she stood at the door, soaked from the rain, trembling with her arms wrapped around herself. Brandon lost all composure, grabbing his coat and rushing to her side. Next to me, Tyler’s eyes were locked on her, his thoughts swirling so violently that he looked like he might explode. Aria. She was back. Was she even real? Brandon held her tightly as he led her into the house, his lips quivering with emotion. Aria glanced at the table, then at the three of us. “I’m so relieved to see you all doing so well,” she said softly, her voice as gentle as ever. But her words struck Brandon and Tyler like a thunderclap. Brandon flipped the table in a frenzy, shouting, “Aria, every day without you has been nothing but pain!” Aria gave him a faint smile, tears welling up in her eyes as she turned to look at Tyler. The dam holding back Tyler’s emotions broke, and tears streamed down his face. “Aria… you’re really back.” But when her eyes met mine, she shrank into Brandon’s arms, trembling. “Hannah, why did you push me off the bridge?” she cried. “I was hurt, lost my memory, wandered for years… I almost died!” I stood frozen. Push her? Tyler and Brandon’s eyes darkened with hatred as they turned toward me. Before I could say a word, Tyler’s hand lashed across my face. “I thought you were just vain,” he roared. “But you’re a monster!” Brandon tightened his grip on Aria, his expression ice-cold. “From now on, you’re no longer part of my family. I don’t have a sister anymore.” I looked at the three of them and laughed bitterly, my smile twisting into something feral. “Aria,” I said through gritted teeth, “I can’t believe you survived that fall. Why didn’t you just die for real?” Tyler slapped me again. Blood dripped from the corner of my mouth, but I wiped it away and slapped him back, my eyes blazing. “If I killed someone, I’ll turn myself in! But don’t you dare lay a hand on me. You’re no saint, Tyler—your hands are just as bloody as mine!” Tyler stumbled back, stunned by my defiance. Aria stepped forward, her voice soft and pleading. “Please, let’s just move on now that I’m back. Hannah, can’t we be sisters again?” Brandon kissed her forehead and whispered, “You’re amazing, Aria.” How ironic. I scoffed. “A murderer like me doesn’t deserve to be your sister. Why don’t we settle this once and for all? Tomorrow, at the bridge.” With that, I walked out the door. Aria followed me, grabbing my arm and crying. But her voice dropped to a venomous whisper. “No matter what you do, they’ll always believe me. Now that I’m back, you’re nothing. You’ll always be nothing.” I yanked my arm free and glared at her. “I’ve never wanted to fight you, Aria. And I never will.”

The next day, the three of them arrived together. Tyler was the first to speak. “Hannah, what kind of game are you trying to play now?” I ignored him, my voice steady as I asked, “Tyler, on our wedding night, when you said you had urgent business at work, were you really with Aria?” Tyler said nothing, but Aria sniffled and spoke up. “Hannah, don’t be mad. I was drunk that night… I wouldn’t let Tyler leave.” I let out a bitter laugh and turned to Brandon. “And you, big brother. The heir to the Shen family business, throwing it all away for a woman. You don’t even care that everyone knows you’re wearing the biggest ‘green hat’ in town. You really love her, huh?” Brandon’s face darkened. His actions over the years had already drawn the ire of the family. Tyler snapped. “Did you call us here just to stir up trouble?” I shook my head with a weary smile. “We grew up together. When have I ever won an argument? I’ve bowed my head so many times I should be a professional by now.” Seeing their hesitation, I smiled faintly, tears streaming down my face as I turned to Tyler. “Honey,” I said mockingly, “I’m going to join our baby now.” And with that, I climbed onto the railing and jumped. The wind roared past me, and their screams tore through the air. For the first time in years, I laughed. Finally, I was free.

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## I killed the classmate who tried to assault me. In the interrogation room, I covered my face and sobbed. Later, the court ruled me not guilty. As I walked out of the courthouse surrounded by officers, I made sure to keep the tears rolling down my cheeks. But the moment I reached a quiet corner, I wiped my eyes, let out a deep breath, and smiled—a smile of pure relief. “My name is Luna. I’m a senior at Westview High, in Class 6.” “And the deceased? He was your classmate?” I sat on the hospital bed, an IV tube attached to my arm, looking pale and weak. I took the water handed to me by the kind-looking officer in uniform and gave her a polite smile. The officer sitting next to me nodded reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Just take your time and try to recall every detail you can.”

If I had one skill I could count on, it’s my looks. Old men, teenage boys—it doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, they’re all visual creatures. Getting the attention of a teenage boy? Easy. A glance, a light touch, paired with a delicate, vulnerable expression—it’s all it takes to have them wrapped around your finger. For me, it’s second nature. I’ve always had a way of making people want to protect me. But I never thought this “gift” of mine would one day lead to something so dangerous. That day, I found a folded note in my desk. “Can I meet you after school by the equipment room? I have something I need to tell you.” I glanced at the signature and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Gavin. Gavin, the perfect student. Top grades, polite to everyone, but distant—except when it came to his little sister. He had that overprotective “big brother” thing going on, which made him a bit of a mystery to the rest of us. Who would’ve thought someone like him would fall for me? But at the end of the day, even the most perfect student is still just a teenage boy. I smiled to myself, curious about what he might say. “So, he’s the one who asked you to meet him in the equipment room?” The officer paused mid-note, looking up at me. I gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, officer.” “Alright, go on.”

After school, I went to the equipment room right on time. It was Friday, and by the time the final bell rang, the campus was practically deserted. The sky was already darkening as I arrived. I pushed open the creaky door. The room was empty. I wasn’t in a rush, though. I figured Gavin was probably working up the courage to show up. For a shy boy, confessing your feelings isn’t easy. As I waited, I wandered around the room, tidying up the cluttered shelves of old sports trophies and broken vases. It gave me something to do while I waited. Suddenly, the door creaked open again, followed by a loud slam. I turned around, thinking it was just the wind. I started walking toward the door to open it back up. That’s when I felt it—a pair of arms wrapping around me from behind. I froze. His hot, heavy breath brushed against my neck. He was panting, whispering my name as his hands slid under my shirt, roughly grabbing at my bra. Disgusted and furious, I struggled and cursed at him, trying to break free. But he only held me tighter, his lips pressing against my neck as he mumbled some nonsense about how much he “loved” me. My mind raced. Why had I come here? Why hadn’t I just told him no? How could I have been so stupid to believe a teenage boy could control himself? He made my skin crawl. I shouted at him to stop, to let me go, but he wouldn’t listen. To him, my protests were just flirting, and it only seemed to excite him more. I felt something hard pressing against me. He started grinding against me, and I wanted to scream. Fear and rage boiled over inside me. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I managed to twist around and shove him backward with everything I had. The shelf behind him tipped over, and one of the heavy vases on top came crashing down. It hit him square on the head. The vase shattered, and shards sliced into my shoulder, but I didn’t care. His grip on me loosened. His hands slid down from my waist as he crumpled to the ground. I stumbled toward the door, clutching my bleeding shoulder, and pulled it open. The light from the hallway flooded in. That’s when I saw him lying there, motionless. Blood pooled around his head. He was dead. “That’s everything that happened,” I said softly, brushing my hand over the bandage on my shoulder. Tears welled up in my eyes as I added, “If I’d known he was capable of something like this, I would’ve never agreed to meet him that day.” The room fell silent. The officers exchanged quiet glances, as if passing some unspoken message between them. The lead officer stood and gave me a slight bow. “Thank you for your time. We won’t keep you any longer.” I smiled faintly. “Take care, officers.” I watched them leave one by one until the room was empty again, the silence pressing in around me. My smile faded, and a shadow passed over my eyes.

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, a nurse was standing by my bed, changing the IV bag. “This is your last one,” she said brightly. “Once it’s done, you’re free to go home!” She smiled warmly, ruffling my messy hair. “You’re such a strong girl. Make sure to take care of yourself, okay?” I kept my gaze low, my voice soft as I blinked up at her. “Thank you. I’ll try my best.” People always want to take care of me. It doesn’t matter who they are—I’ve always known how to make them want to protect me. Sure enough, the nurse gave me a sad smile and pinched my cheek before stuffing a handful of candy into my hands. After she left, I let my composed expression melt into a grin. I’m an orphan. I’ve been on my own since the day I was born. A few years ago, I had family, but they’re gone now too. It’s just me. No one’s going to come help me with the discharge papers, and I didn’t expect them to. I followed the nurse through the process myself. Thankfully, she took care of most of the work for me. Before I left, she hugged me tightly, tears in her eyes as she whispered, “Promise me you’ll live a good life.” I put on my best performance, crying into her shoulder. But the moment I turned away, I wiped my tears and smoothed my hair. It’s all just a show, after all.

Even though the school suggested I take a couple of days off to recover, I went back the very next day. I’ve always been popular—the kind of person who seems to attract a crowd wherever I go. As soon as I stepped through the classroom door, my so-called friends surrounded me, bombarding me with questions and chatter. “Did you really kill him?” “Seriously? You actually went through with it? Damn, you’re cold.” Their words irritated me, but I kept my cool, plastering a polite smile on my face to deal with their fake concern and nosy curiosity. “Watch your mouth,” a girl standing nearby snapped at one of the boys, clearly annoyed. The boy immediately shut up, grinning sheepishly as he tried to smooth things over. “Yeah, my bad! Don’t be mad, okay, Luna?” I shook my head with a show of forced strength, my voice soft and steady. “It’s fine. I’m okay.” That was all they needed to launch into a chorus of comforting words. “That guy deserved it anyway. I never liked him. Imagine pulling that on you—what a creep…” The girl clicked her tongue again, and the boy finally stopped talking altogether. The energy around me was lively, noisy, and suffocating. But across the room, it was dead silent where Mila sat. Through the gaps in the crowd, I could see her huddled in the corner, clutching her pencil so tightly her fingers trembled. Her wide, anxious eyes flicked toward our group, only to meet mine. The moment our gazes locked, she froze. Then, as if burned, she dropped her head and frantically pretended to scribble something in her notebook. Mila. The classic loner girl. She never talked to anyone. No friends, no social life. The only person she’d ever been close to was her brother, Gavin. They did everything together—always glued to each other’s side. It was pathetic. She was pathetic. And I already knew exactly how the next chapter of her life was going to play out.

Our class had a reputation. It wasn’t just bad—it was rotten to the core. Every single person here had their own little piece of darkness, like termites gnawing away at the foundations. The corruption ran deep. In our class, the students had created their own hierarchy. There were three groups. The first group, led by Gavin before his death, was made up of the “good kids.” Straight-A students, well-behaved, the ones teachers loved. They were mostly left alone, since messing with them risked drawing the school’s attention. The second group? That was mine. The troublemakers. The ones who ruled the social scene with cliques and alliances. And the third group? They were the bottom of the barrel—the outcasts. Mediocre grades, no social skills, easy targets. They were nothing more than fodder for the rest of us. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for the hyenas to set their sights on Mila. When Gavin was alive, they’d stayed away from her out of respect for him. But now that he was gone, Mila was nothing more than a defenseless lamb surrounded by wolves. It started small. During breaks, someone would steal her chair while she was in the restroom. She’d come back, confused and embarrassed, forced to stand for the rest of class. Or they’d leave empty soda cans and crumpled tissues on her desk, treating her like a trash can. “Oh, wait—this is your seat? My bad, I thought it was the recycling bin,” one of the boys sneered, earning exaggerated laughter from the others. The teacher? She saw everything. Of course she did. Mila standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, her desk covered in garbage—it was impossible to miss. But she just glanced over, said nothing, and went back to teaching. I told you, in this class, everyone’s rotten. Not just the students. Their cruelty wasn’t just about Gavin being gone. Mila’s family situation was just as bad as mine—parents gone, only a brother left to look out for her. And now, even he was dead. With no one to protect her, the vultures circled without fear. I rested my chin on my hand, watching Mila squirm under the spotlight of the class’s mockery. What a shame. She wasn’t like me. She didn’t know how to hide.

I’ve always had a talent for making people care about me. Love me, even. Any kind of person. I know how to look helpless, how to tug at people’s heartstrings, how to make them want to protect me. At the same time, I know how to project strength—designer clothes, a polished image, the appearance of someone from a wealthy and untouchable family. A naive rich girl with a heart of gold. Who would dare mess with someone like that? But Mila didn’t have that ability. Her fear, her hatred, her vulnerability—it was all written all over her face. Every flinch, every tremble just made her tormentors more excited, like sharks smelling blood in the water. Just like now. A wad of paper hit Mila square on the head and bounced to the floor. Laughter rippled through the room as Mila sat there, her head bowed, her ears burning red. Another paper ball. Then another. It wasn’t until the teacher finally snapped and yelled at the class to stop that the bombardment ended—not because of Mila, but because it was disrupting the lesson. Mila’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, her lips trembling. Pathetic. After school, my usual entourage swarmed around me, loudly declaring how they’d protect me while peppering me with questions. Their chatter annoyed me, but I just smiled and let it wash over me. As soon as I stepped out of the school gates, though, a man blocked my path. I looked up, immediately recognizing the face. “Hello, officer,” I said calmly. He blinked, clearly surprised by my composure, before nodding slightly. “We have a few more questions for you. Would you be able to come with us?” I glanced at the group of friends behind me. The same people who’d been shouting about “protecting” me just moments ago were now shrinking back, avoiding my gaze. Typical. I turned back to the officer and nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.” At the station, they sat me down in a chair. One of the officers handed me a bottle of water. I held it for a moment, feeling the coolness through the plastic, before handing it back. “Could I get one that’s warmed up, please? Thank you.”

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## After three years of taking care of a man with amnesia, he finally recovered. The first thing he did? Get engaged to his first love. I showed up with a box full of cash—the payment for cutting all ties between us. He smirked, casually pulling a stack of bills from the box and handing it to me. With a raised eyebrow, he said: “Takes money to seduce someone, doesn’t it?” 0I stared at the diagnosis in my hand for what felt like an eternity. I used to want to die. I tried everything—slitting my wrists, jumping off buildings, even hanging myself—but somehow, I always survived. Now, just when I’ve finally found a reason to live, life decides to play a cruel joke on me. As I walked out of the hospital, my mind spiraled. If I die, what will happen to Connor? Connor is the man I found three years ago. He didn’t know who he was, so I gave him a name—Connor. He’s… special. A child in a man’s body. If I’m gone, who will take care of him? With that heavy thought weighing me down, I returned home. The front door was wide open. My stomach sank. Inside stood a man in a tailored suit, smiling like someone who didn’t want to be there but had a job to do. “Miss Moore,” he said, his voice smooth but cold. “We need to talk about Connor.” “Connor—” I began, but he cut me off. He opened a briefcase sitting on the table. Stacks of cash. “What’s this supposed to mean?” I asked, my throat tightening. “This,” he said with a polite smile, “is a token of gratitude for taking care of our Young Master all this time.” “And,” he added, his voice dropping slightly, “we trust you won’t speak to anyone about his… condition.” He was still smiling, but the threat in his eyes was unmistakable. I swallowed hard. “I don’t want your money.” “No?” He chuckled, his gaze sweeping over me like I was a beggar who didn’t know her place. “Not enough for you? Or…” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you hoping to latch onto the Grant family?” I froze, stunned, and before I could respond, he pulled out a business card and handed it to me. “If you change your mind,” he said, his tone clipped, “call the number on this card. But as for everything else…” His smile faded. “Keep it to yourself.” The diagnosis paper in my hand crumpled as I clenched my fist. Any hope I had of fighting this—of living—was crushed under the weight of that briefcase. 0

Curiosity got the better of me. I looked up the Grant family online. The first image that popped up was Connor—or, as I now learned, Austin Grant, heir to the Grant fortune. His world and mine couldn’t have been more different. The money in that briefcase? I couldn’t earn that much in a lifetime. After some thought, I called the number on the card. “Miss Moore,” the man answered, his voice calm and smug. “You’ve made up your mind so soon?” “I don’t want the money,” I said quietly. “Not enough, is it?” he said, almost amused. “Makes sense. Cancer treatments these days cost millions. A single injection can run up to $200,000.” “How much do you need?” My hand trembled as I gripped the phone. “I’m not planning to treat it.” The line went silent for a moment before he finally spoke. “Miss Moore, the Grant family isn’t the kind of place you can just walk into.” “Yes, you cared for the Young Master for three years, but that doesn’t mean you have a place here. Especially since…” He paused, as if savoring the blow he was about to deliver. “The Young Master is already engaged to someone else.” It felt like a rope had tightened around my chest, squeezing the air out of me. My voice shook as I replied, “I don’t want to be part of the Grant family.” “And I won’t tell anyone about Austin’s condition.” “I just…” My voice broke. “I don’t want your money.” Because taking their money would cheapen everything. It would make those three years—every moment I spent with Connor—feel like a transaction. The man sighed. “Miss Moore, this money is your compensation. I’m just doing my job. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Before I could respond, he hung up. The dim light in the living room cast long shadows. Near the door sat a bag of empty bottles—Connor’s latest collection. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday. I’d searched everywhere but couldn’t find him. Exhausted and terrified, I had collapsed on the couch, crying my heart out. Then, late that night, Connor came home, covered in dirt and carrying a sack over his shoulder. When he saw me crying, he panicked. “Don’t cry, Harper!” he said, his black eye from a fight making him look even more ridiculous. He grinned and held up the sack. “Look! I found so many bottles today!” “A few old guys tried to take them from me, but I was too fast!” he added proudly. “Don’t worry, Harper. I can take care of you. You don’t need that man, okay?” I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry as I pulled him into a hug. “If you ever run off like that again,” I said, trying to sound stern, “I’m not keeping you anymore.” His eyes turned red as he clung to my sleeve. “I’ll collect so many bottles. Don’t leave me, okay? Please don’t leave me.” But in the end, it wasn’t me who left. It was him. And this time, it wasn’t me who gave up on him. It was him who gave up on me. 0

When there’s no reason to live, there’s no reason to seek treatment either. I decided to check myself out of the hospital. As I was leaving the house, I accidentally knocked over the small clay figurine sitting on the cabinet. I glanced at it for a moment, then shut the door behind me. At the hospital, the discharge process went smoothly—until I noticed Connor’s name on the inpatient list. I grabbed the nurse’s arm, my voice trembling. “Austin… is he the Young Master of the Grant family?” She yanked her arm away, scoffing. “And what if he is?” she sneered, giving me a once-over. “Someone like you thinks they can climb their way into the Grant family?” Her gaze burned into me, and I couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. Humiliated, I turned and ran out of the hospital. But later that day, I packed up the briefcase of money and headed back. This time, I couldn’t bring myself to ask the nurses where Connor’s room was—I didn’t want to see the judgment in their eyes. So I wandered through the hospital, floor by floor, peeking through room windows, hoping I’d find him. “Harper?” A familiar voice called out, and I froze. Hugging the briefcase closer to my chest, I turned around. It was Dr. James. “Dr. James…” He smiled kindly. “Here to pay for treatment?” I shook my head. He frowned, confused. “You know, with treatment, there’s a good chance your condition could be cured.” There might be a chance for a cure, but there’s no cure for the emptiness in my heart. “If you have the money, why not save yourself?” he pressed. I forced a bitter smile. “This money… it’s not mine.” He hesitated. “Then what are you planning to do with it?” I cut him off before he could finish. “Dr. James, do you know which room Austin is in?” He studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Fourth floor, second door on the left.” Patting my shoulder, he added, “If you need help, you know where to find me.” I nodded and made my way up to the fourth floor. Standing outside the room, I hesitated for what felt like an eternity before finally knocking. The door opened to reveal a man with a commanding presence, someone I recognized instantly from my online search. It was Austin’s older brother—Elliot Grant, the current head of the Grant family. He didn’t seem surprised to see me. With a slight nod, he motioned for me to come in. As soon as I stepped inside, my eyes were drawn to the hospital bed. Connor—no, Austin—was lying there, looking completely at ease. Beside him sat a poised, elegant woman in designer clothes. She cut a slice of apple and held it up to his lips, and he took it with a soft look in his eyes. I stood frozen, gripping the briefcase so tightly my knuckles turned white. Then, slowly, I let go. What was the point? 0

It wasn’t until Austin had eaten a few more slices of apple that he finally noticed me. Wiping his mouth with a tissue, he asked coldly, “Why are you here?” His gaze was sharp, indifferent, and it made me take two steps back instinctively. This wasn’t the Connor I knew—the one who used to follow me around like a lost puppy, calling me Harper. This was Austin Grant, heir to the Grant family empire. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and opened the briefcase. “The money,” I said quietly, “I didn’t spend a single cent. I’m here to return it.” Austin’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curving into a faint, mocking smile. “Then what do you want?” he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Are you here to claim the title of Mrs. Grant?” I froze, stunned by his words. “I—what?” I stammered, unable to believe what he’d just said. He leaned back against the bed, his smile cold and distant. “You think you’re worthy?” The room fell silent. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Setting the briefcase down on the floor, I turned and fled the room. I made it to the stairwell, gripping the railing as I gasped for air. Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them. “Crying?” The voice behind me was familiar, and it sent a chill down my spine. I wiped my eyes quickly and muttered, “No.” Austin stepped closer, his sharp gaze sweeping over me. His lips curled into a smirk as he pulled a stack of cash from his pocket and shoved it into my hands. “Eat something,” he said with a mocking tilt of his head. “Your figure’s disappearing. It takes resources to seduce someone, you know.” I stood there, frozen, as his words pierced through me like knives. He turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the stairwell, clutching the money in my trembling hands. It wasn’t until his silhouette disappeared that I snapped out of it. “Connor…” I whispered his name like a plea, but he was gone. I stumbled out of the hospital, tears streaming down my face, not knowing where to go. I pulled out the stack of cash he had given me and stared at it for a long time. In this city, it felt like I was the only one left. 04 When I got home, the first thing I saw was a pile of broken pieces scattered across the floor. Among them were dozens of paper stars. I picked one up and carefully unfolded it. Inside, in messy handwriting, it read: “Harper, always stay happy!” It was part of a birthday gift from Connor. After my parents passed away, I stopped celebrating birthdays. Life had lost its meaning, and so had those special days. I found Connor three years ago. He was lying in an alley, bleeding and barely conscious. Out of pity, I brought him home. When he woke up, I realized he wasn’t… normal. But he was sweet. He’d smile at me like a child and call me “Harper” in the softest, most affectionate voice. Sometimes, he’d wrap his arms around me and whine for attention like I was the only safe thing in his world. In a city that felt cold and foreign, Connor became my anchor. He gave me a reason to keep going. There were days I thought about finding his family and sending him home. One time, I even took him to the police station to report him as missing. He was so calm and obedient the entire way—until I turned to leave. That’s when he grabbed my sleeve, his eyes turning red as he whispered: “Harper… you’re not going to leave me, are you?” I gently pried his hand away and forced a smile. “I’m just going to buy you some candy, okay? Be a good boy and wait for me.” He sat down on a chair, looking like a lost puppy, his wide eyes following me as I walked away. I thought that was the end of us. But three days later, on my way home from work, I saw him digging through a trash can. “Connor?” I called out, shocked. He froze, then slowly turned around. His face was streaked with dirt, and when he saw me, tears welled up in his eyes. “Connor, what are you doing here?” His voice trembled as he reached out toward me, his hand hovering in the air like he wasn’t sure if I’d let him touch me. “Harper… I’ll be good,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please… don’t leave me again.” It turned out he’d run away from the police station that same night. He thought I didn’t want him anymore. I was furious, but I couldn’t stay mad. I pulled him into a hug, my heart aching as he clung to me like a lifeline. That winter night was freezing, but we stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, two kids without a home, trying to keep warm. Back then, I thought we’d always be together. 0

The following summer, I celebrated Connor’s birthday for the first time. By the end of the day, his face was covered in frosting, but he just sat there grinning at me like a little kid. “Harper,” he asked suddenly, “when’s your birthday?” “December 22,” I told him casually, not thinking much of it. I didn’t expect him to remember. But when that day came, he showed up with a small, clumsy clay figurine cradled carefully in his hands. “Harper, happy birthday!” he said, beaming. The figurine was… well, ugly. Its belly had been scratched with the words: “Connor only loves Harper.” “Only loves?” I teased, laughing. “Do you even know what that means?” Connor puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course I do! It means I only love one person.” “I only love Harper!” Now, that little clay figurine—marked with “Connor only loves Harper”—lay shattered on the floor. There was no piecing it back together. Back then, I thought the figurine was the entire gift, so I tucked it away without a second thought. I didn’t realize there was something hidden inside. No wonder he pouted for days whenever I ignored it. Curious, I unfolded another paper star from the pile. This one read: “We’ll always be together.” At the bottom, there was a crude drawing of two stick figures holding hands. The effort he’d put into it was obvious, even through the childish scribbles. I stared at it for a long time, my fingers brushing over the tiny hearts he’d drawn around the edges. A tear slipped down my cheek, smudging the ink. “You little liar,” I whispered. 0

When all is said and done, I just want to go home. I sold my apartment, and the money was just enough to buy a burial plot. I’ll be laid to rest next to my parents. I also sold the bag of bottles Connor had collected. It brought in a grand total of sixteen dollars and fifty cents. “With this little money, how were you ever planning to take care of me?” I muttered to myself, half-laughing, half-crying. The paperwork was done. In two days, I’d leave this city full of painful memories. But the day before I was supposed to leave, an unexpected guest showed up. “Elliot?” He looked slightly surprised. “You know who I am? I’m honored.” “What do you want?” I asked, wary. Elliot’s face held that same polite, unreadable smile. “Miss Moore, I’d like to invite you to be my date for an event.” “Your date?” I stared at him, baffled. Rich people’s logic never made sense to me. He was handsome, wealthy, and powerful. Women would throw themselves at him with just a snap of his fingers. Why on earth would he ask someone like me—average in every way, with no fortune or connections? I was about to decline when he added, “My brother Austin will be there, too.” I hesitated. Even if I couldn’t say goodbye to Connor, maybe I could see him one last time from a distance. I didn’t know Elliot’s motives, but I still agreed. What could someone like me—a woman with no family and a terminal illness—possibly have to lose? Elliot provided a gown for the event. I stood in front of the mirror, nervously smoothing the fabric. When he saw me, a flicker of admiration crossed his face, though it was quickly masked with his usual composure. He draped a delicate necklace around my neck and chuckled. “Austin wasn’t just dumb. He was blind, too.” I pressed my lips together, choosing not to respond. When we arrived, I realized this wasn’t just any event. It was Austin’s engagement party. He stood in the center of the room, effortlessly elegant, exuding an air of cold detachment. He looked like something out of a winter dream—strong, poised, and untouchable, like bamboo standing tall in the snow. Next to him was his fiancée, wearing a dazzling white gown that sparkled like she’d wrapped herself in starlight. She was radiant, the kind of beautiful that made everyone else fade into the background. The emcee smiled warmly at her and asked, “Miss Sinclair, do you have anything you’d like to say?” She held Austin’s arm and spoke with a voice as soft as velvet. “I’m so grateful. Grateful that I could bring him back to who he truly is. And even more grateful that I’ve always been the one by his side.” Her words stung, but I forced myself to stay calm. I reached for my wrist, absentmindedly tugging at the bracelet Connor had made for me. It was a simple thing—braided string with a strand of his hair tied into it. But now, Austin’s hand wore nothing but a gleaming silver ring, impossibly bright under the chandelier lights. I let out a quiet sigh. I guess I’m grateful too. Grateful that during the darkest years of my life, I had Connor by my side. He was like a fleeting dream, comforting me when I needed it most before fading away. I just wish that dream had lasted a little longer. I wanted to leave, but Elliot stopped me. “Aren’t you going to congratulate him?” he asked with a smirk. Reluctantly, I followed him to where Austin and his fiancée were standing. Austin glanced at me, his expression unreadable, before his lips curled into a mocking smile. “So, this is your type now, big brother? Used goods?” The words hit like a punch to the gut, sharp and cruel. My chest tightened, and I struggled to breathe. Next to him, Miss Sinclair laughed softly, resting her hand on his arm. “Don’t be so mean,” she teased. “After all, she did take care of you for three years.” Austin’s expression didn’t change. He let out a dismissive “Oh,” then reached for a pen and asked someone nearby for a checkbook. He scribbled something down, tore out the check, and handed it to me. “Write whatever amount you want,” he said, his tone cold and detached.

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I admit I was wrong. I am a modern woman, but I got tangled up with a strange system that made me earn money by pleasing men. I was simultaneously pleasing three men, and within less than six months, I made enough money to buy a villa. While I was busy making money, these three men suddenly showed up and cornered me against the wall. With grim expressions, they asked, “Tell us, who do you really like? You can only choose one.” I messaged the person saved as [6’2 Sagittarius Star, Acton Lyons] and said: [I miss you.] A few seconds later, Acton replied: [Stop missing me. I’m taking three girls out tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.] I quickly responded, still cheerful: [Taking girls out, huh? Be sure to drive safely.] Acton sent a string of ellipses. I elegantly took a sip of coffee, then messaged the second person on my list, saved as [6’1″ Capricorn CEO, Theodore Blakely,] with a simple [Good morning.] Then I started watching a drama. By the time I finished an entire season, he still hadn’t replied. But this didn’t surprise me. Calmly, I sent a follow-up message: [I checked, Capricorns really don’t like replying to messages. I understand.] Finally, he replied: [If you’re so free, why don’t you get a job?] I smoothly answered: [Mr. Blakely, do you need a secretary? I’m not only great at work, but I’m also quite good in bed.] Theodore sent another string of ellipses. He didn’t respond, which was fine. I turned my attention to the third person on my list, saved as [6’3″ Pisces Campus Heartthrob, Conley Morrison.] [Baby, happy birthday!] I messaged, then sent 500 dollars to him. After a moment’s thought, I added: [You have to accept this.] Soon, the transfer was received. Conley replied: [Thanks, Ms. Ellsworth, you’re so sweet.] I thought to myself, “What a sweet young man!” I asked kindly: [So, how are you celebrating your birthday?] Conley: [With the campus queen.] I smiled and transferred another 500 dollars. [This is for the campus queen’s hard work. I want to thank her for keeping you company on my behalf.] Conley probably didn’t expect me to be this generous. After a brief pause, he accepted the transfer and sent me a cute cat emoji. [Ms. Ellsworth, you’re truly amazing.] Having taken care of these, I put my phone down, let the maid give me a massage, and smiled at the fluttering words in the air. [System is settling your account…] [Three basic flattery behaviors completed, total earnings: 3,000 dollars, reimbursement for transfer: 1,000 dollars, total earnings: 4,040 dollars. Funds have been deposited.] Looking at my increasing balance, I stretched lazily. My best friend’s birthday was coming up, and I wanted to buy her a house. I thought, “Maybe I should throw in a sports car for her too. Well, it looks like I’ll need to work harder these next few days.” With that in mind, I dialed Acton’s number. “Acton, which hotel are you taking the three girls to tomorrow? I’ll come by with some condoms.” Acton was clearly stunned at my words.

As you can see, when it came to pleasing others, I was a professional. It was not something I wanted to do myself, but the system paid way too well. The next day, I sneaked over to Serenwood Mansion carrying a bag of contraceptives. The security guard quickly stopped me. “What are you here for?” I showed him the contents of my bag and said seriously, “I’m a delivery runner. We specialize in professional condom delivery services for clients in need.” The guard was stunned, but his professionalism kicked in, and he accepted it. “Go on.” When I found Acton, he was swimming in the outdoor pool. Three bikini-clad beauties of different nationalities cheered for him from the shore. When he saw me, Acton slowly walked ashore, flicking his head so that droplets of water rolled off his abs. I took a step back, making sure not to get my Chanel dress wet. Acton noticed my movement, raised an eyebrow, and teased, “Playing hard to get? Beatrice, your pursuit skills have improved.” I inwardly rolled my eyes and thought, “You’re thinking too much.” I lowered my head shyly, my cheeks tinged pink. I stamped my foot, pouted, and said, “Stop teasing me…Why do you always have to expose me like that? I’m about to cry…” Acton smiled smugly and noticed the bag in my hand. “You really bought them?” “I got eight boxes,” I said obediently, “If that’s not enough, let me know.” Acton let out a light laugh and gestured for me to sit down. “Sit.” I thought to myself, “Sit? I don’t have time to sit with you. I’ve got to go please the next guy and make more money.” I tactfully waved my hand. “I won’t bother you. There are too many people here, and I’m sure you’ll find me annoying. I’ll just leave…” Acton seemed about to say something, but then the three beauties gracefully surrounded him, blocking his view of me. I seized the opportunity to slip away. But as soon as I sat in the car, my phone buzzed with a message from Acton. [I accidentally ordered too much for lunch. Want to stay and eat?] I froze. I thought, “What is this? I’ve only been pleasing him for half a year. He’s not actually starting to develop feelings for me, right?” When I picked him, I had specifically checked his profile. Acton was known for being flirtatious but having a specific type. He only liked perfectly shaped, sexy women. He had countless girlfriends, but none of them lasted long. Seeing that his difficulty rating was five stars, I hadn’t hesitated to choose him as my prey. He was one of my cash cows, and I couldn’t let him fall for me! I was too scared to reply to his message. I focused on driving and stopped at a red light. My phone kept buzzing with messages. Acton: [Why aren’t you replying?] Acton: [Did you cry?] He sent a resigned emoji, then added: [I told you I was taking three girls out. You shouldn’t insist on showing up. Now you’re upset. Silly girl, what should I do to you?] Acton: [Alright, alright, I’ll send you 30 thousand dollars. Go buy a bag.] Two minutes later, another message came through. Acton: [Why are you still not replying?] Acton: [Did I make you cry with my kindness?] I felt a wave of helplessness. I nervously asked the system, “What happens if the target starts pursuing me instead?” The system’s voice was cold and detached. “Your salary will be reduced according to the extent.” I cursed inwardly. I decisively grabbed my phone and recorded a voice message full of venom. “You think 30 thousand dollars is enough to move me? Dream on! I spend more than that on manicures! Keep it for your retirement fund! I’ve been sick of you for a while, you useless playboy!” After sending it, I felt relieved. I hoped this voice message would crush any budding feelings he might have and help him return to being the difficult-to-please playboy he was before. The phone remained silent for a long time. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the message alert went off. Then I saw Acton’s firm reply. [Your jealous side is pretty cute.]

The system coldly notified me: [Detected flattery behavior. Deducting 2,000 dollars.] This was insane. I immediately blocked and deleted Acton, just in case he said anything else that would cost me more money. Things were going so wrong. I called Conley. I remembered he didn’t have classes today. The phone rang for quite a while before he picked up, his voice still drowsy. “Ms. Ellsworth?” I mimicked the tone of an aristocratic lady and said, “Hey, I miss you. Little darling, how about I take you on a private jet, and we go somewhere fun?” A few seconds later, Conley replied with a smile in his voice, “Sounds good, I’ll get ready.” “Then it’s a deal. I’ll pick you up now.” I hung up the phone and floored the accelerator, heading straight to my second cash cow. I was determined to earn back what I had lost from one man through another. Conley seemed to have made an effort to dress up today. He wore a crisp white hoodie, his hair neatly styled, looking youthful and fresh. I helped him fasten his seatbelt and squinted playfully. “You look handsome today. I like it.” Conley smiled innocently, “That’s great. I hope she likes it too.” I raised an eyebrow. Just as I was about to ask who this “she” was, a girl jumped into the car. She wore the same white hoodie as Conley, with an ultra-short skirt and perfect makeup. I recognized her immediately. She was Sandra Powell, the campus queen at Conley’s school. Sandra flashed a sweet smile. “Thanks, Ms. Ellsworth, for taking us out!” I turned to Conley, who calmly smiled, “Ms. Ellsworth, I’m sure you don’t mind taking a lovely girl along, right?” I didn’t mind at all. As long as the jet could fit, I wouldn’t mind if he brought eight girls. I loved guys who were already taken. To me, guys like that were cash cows. I was thrilled, and with all sincerity, I told Conley, “I just want you to be happy. Your happiness is my greatest wealth.” And that was the truth. Conley gave me a long look, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. We three boarded the private jet and flew to my island resort. From the moment Sandra arrived on the island, she was in awe of everything, gasping and marveling at every little thing. I quickly switched to money-making mode. “Conley, what kind of crepes do you want? I’ll make them for you.” “Vanilla, please. Thanks, Ms. Ellsworth.” Conley glanced at Sandra. Before he could say anything, I already knew what he wanted. “What does your girlfriend like?” I asked sweetly. “I’ll make her an even bigger one.” I knew this was a top-notch, pleasing technique. I pleased the girl he liked, too, knowing this was the best way to get on his good side. Conley hesitated, then said, “She doesn’t… never mind.” He trailed off and turned to ask Sandra, who was busy taking selfies, what kind of crepes she wanted. I was a pro at making crepes and had them ready in under five minutes, handing them to Sandra and Conley with a smile. I was this quick because I had made them for other men before. Just like they said, practice makes perfect. After we finished the crepes, I took them out on the yacht. Along the way, I fussed over Sandra. I worried she might be hot, cold, hungry, or even full from eating too much. When she got seasick, I gave her medicine. When she was snapping pictures, I showered her with compliments. I was so attentive, and Conley hardly had a chance to make any move. Finally, when Sandra had too much champagne and collapsed, Conley rushed to catch her before I could, carefully holding her in his arms, his eyes full of concern. As the sun set, they sat close, basking in the warm orange light, looking picture-perfect together. I gracefully walked to the cabin, “I suddenly need to use the restroom. You two carry on.” I jumped into the bed and checked my account. The balance was climbing rapidly, and I couldn’t help but cheer. Then, I turned on some jazz and started dancing. Just as I was swaying to the rhythm, I suddenly noticed Conley standing in the doorway. “Conley?” I froze and quickly stopped my dance. “Aren’t you with Sandra…?” Conley’s eyes were dim with a mix of sadness and something else…resentment, maybe. “You really want us to be together?” I froze. An ominous premonition washed over me, and I cautiously asked, “Aren’t you already together?” Conley squinted at me, his gaze darkening. “No. She’s just someone I hired to act. I wanted to make you jealous.” Oh my God. I was never one for jealousy. I thought to myself, “Is today the end of the world? Why is everyone changing?” I felt like I was about to crack. “Why would you suddenly do this?” Conley tugged at his collar, his clavicle flushed from the alcohol. He looked down and slowly spoke, “It wasn’t sudden. It’s been bothering me for a while. At first, I was with you just for your money, but you’ve gone too far. You love me too much. Even my mom wants something in return, but you don’t ask for anything.” I collapsed on the round bed. He crouched down beside me like a lost puppy, looking up with tearful eyes. “Everyone says love is about possession. But you’ve never gotten jealous of me. I want to know… do you love me so much, or not at all?” His last words hit me like a ton of bricks. His gaze seemed to pierce through my eyes and probe deep into my soul. I instinctively held my breath, mentally whispering, “Stay calm, Beatrice. You can handle this.” In that tense moment, I had an idea. I steadied myself and calmly said, “I did love you.” Conley froze. I wiped my face, forcing a sad expression. “I’ll be honest with you. I did love you. But suddenly, I don’t feel the same anymore. Sometimes, a woman’s heart changes like that. Just like the song says, love is something that can fade so easily…” I didn’t feel guilty at all. After all, many guys went through breakups like this, sudden and unexpected. Self-esteem is fragile, especially men’s. Even more so for young men. I thought after hearing my words, he’d immediately hate me and consider me the person he’d despise the most. And then, I’d be free to continue pleasing him again. Just as I was reveling in my victory, Conley suddenly shoved me down onto the bed. My hands were tied with a strap and pulled up above my head. Conley leaned over, pulling out a peeler and twirling it in his fingers. His gaze was something I had never seen before. He looked wild, almost insane. “Ms. Ellsworth, you can’t do this. “You’ve loved me for so long. You can’t just stop loving me. Will you fall for me again? “If I lose your love, I think I’ll go crazy. If you’ve stopped loving me, let’s die together, okay?” His breath was hot against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I thought, “Crap. This guy looks so innocent, but he’s actually a psychopath!” The system pinged again: [Detected intense flattery behavior. Deducting 3,000 dollars.] Conley traced the back of the blade across my skin, his eyes darkening, his voice hoarse. “Ms. Ellsworth, didn’t you say you’d do anything to make me happy? If you fall for me again, I’ll be happy.” He grabbed my chin, coaxing me in a low voice, “Come on, Ms. Ellsworth. Tell me you love me.” [Deducting 4,000 dollars.] Hearing System’s notification, I snapped, “Screw you.” Conley shuddered, his voice trembling with excitement. “Ms. Ellsworth, say it again. It feels so good.” I was utterly stunned. At that moment, I felt a sense of complete despair. I realized this guy was a freak. Just as I thought I might be doomed, Sandra barged in. She saw us in our compromising position, yelled, “Hey!” and shoved Conley to the floor, then crawled on top of me. Her face flushed, smelling of alcohol. She nuzzled her face into my chest and said, “Ms. Ellsworth, stop liking him. Please like me instead.” I was completely dumbfounded. Sandra smiled lovingly, “Only girls understand what other girls want. I won’t let you suffer. I only like you. How about it?” I hesitated, “Sounds great, but…” Conley, gritting his teeth, got up and leaned in, but Sandra smiled and punched him squarely in the face, sending him crashing back to the floor. “I know boxing,” Sandra said sweetly. “Ms. Ellsworth, you can continue.” I swallowed hard. “Well, I think I can accept that.” Sandra curled up and fell asleep in my arms. I fought to untie myself, then escaped the island under cover of night. Just as I took a deep breath, I got a new message. It was from Theodore. He said: [Come pick me up.]

I stared at the message, lost in thought. In the past, I would always make an effort to pick Theodore up after work since each time, he earned me 5,000 dollars. But after two misfortunes today, I decided to be cautious and just called him. I got straight to the point. “You’re not planning to give me money, are you?” Theodore answered with a question mark. I continued, “You are not planning to have some women around you to make me jealous, right?” There was a brief silence, then Theodore replied, “Beatrice, are you going nuts?” Seeing his usual indifferent words, I felt a wave of warmth and relief wash over me. I sighed, “Wait for me. I’ll be there soon.” Downstairs in the Blakely Group building, Theodore stood in the wind. He had just lit a cigarette, but when he saw me get out of the car, he quickly put it out. I spoke gently, “Let’s go, Teddy. Get in the car.” Theodore nodded toward a nearby Porsche. I thought to myself, “Ah, looks like Mr. Blakely is tired of my Maybach. Fine, a change of car is fine by me.” I hurried over, opened the driver’s side door, and said to the driver, “Sir, please get out. I’ll drive.” The driver looked confused. “Miss, what are you…?” Theodore sighed softly and walked over to open the rear door. “Get in.” “Ah?” I was a little stunned but did as told. Theodore slid into the car beside me, and the vehicle started moving smoothly. I asked, “Teddy, where are we going?” Theodore replied, “You’ll know when we get there.” A sense of unease crept into me. Thirty minutes later, the car pulled into a closed amusement park. I thought, “What is going on here? This feels like something out of a horror movie. It’s terrifying.” As I got out of the car, I heard Theodore snap his fingers. The lights of the entire park flickered on, and suddenly, the silent fairytale world seemed to come alive. I understood then. I smiled and said, “If you just wanted me to go to an amusement park with you, you could have said so.” Theodore took my wrist through my coat sleeve and led me inside, stopping in front of the carousel. Golden neon lights blinked, and dreamy music surrounded us. Some fragmented memories flashed through my mind, and for a moment, I lost focus. I sniffed, then pulled out my phone and gave his rear a playful tap. “Go ahead. I’ll take a picture for you.” Theodore was momentarily surprised by my playful action, but he quickly got over it and snatched my phone away. “You go. I’ll take the picture.” I was annoyed. “Why don’t you just take my money from my pocket?” I thought, “Does this guy even realize how much he’s costing me with these little moments?” Theodore looked clearly confused. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds, and then he smiled, “I like watching people on the carousel.” Hearing that, I understood. I thought, “So that’s why he brought me here. It’s his little quirk.” I patted his shoulder with understanding. “You should have said so earlier. I’ll indulge you.” I cheerfully ran over to my favorite horse. The music grew more romantic and beautiful, and the lights around us slowly danced, rising and falling. A gentle breeze brushed my face. I had always watched others ride the carousel before. This was my first time experiencing it for myself. I spent the next several hours enjoying rides with him, and when we got off the little forest train, my stomach growled. He suddenly asked, “What kind of crepes would you like?” I froze for a moment. No one had ever asked me that before. Normally, I was the one asking others. After a moment of thought, I replied, “Blueberry.” Theodore nodded and rolled up his sleeves as he walked toward a crepe stall. I stood there for a second, stunned. I thought he was just going to buy me one, but no, he was going to make it himself. He skillfully spread the batter, and the delicious aroma filled the air. He seemed… less cold than usual. Watching him focus on the crepe-making process under the lights, I suddenly felt my heart rate quicken. He brought the plate over to me, his expression still calm, but there was a hint of expectation. “Try it.” I took a bite and realized it tasted better than the ones I made. He asked, “How is it?” I was about to say, “It’s delicious,” when suddenly I heard an irritating voice in my mind. “Intermediate flattery behavior detected. Deducting 5,000 dollars.” Fuming, I responded, “It’s okay. Just okay.” Based on what I knew of Theodore, I expected him to turn red with anger, grab me by the throat, and growl, “Woman, you’re out of the line.” But he didn’t.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295316”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #校园School #狼人Werewolf #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn

In my past life, I won the grand prize of $99,000 at the company’s annual party. But my coworker publicly accused me of having an affair with our manager, claiming we had rigged the prize draw. From then on, I fell into a trap of trying to prove my innocence. Whether it was prize money, project bonuses, or promotion opportunities, I had to give them all up to avoid suspicion. But my coworkers still weren’t satisfied. At a construction site, they pushed me into a deep pit and buried me alive. Only as I lay dying did I learn the truth – my coworker was the one actually having an affair with our manager. They had conspired to frame me so they could take my position. Given a second chance at life, I decided to beat them at their own game. At the annual party, I preemptively confessed to dating the manager, announcing we’d been together for a year. 0 “Congratulations Rachel! It’s year-end and everyone’s rushing to submit expense reports. How did yours get approved so quickly?” “If you’ve got some secret trick, you can’t keep it to yourself. We’re all colleagues here – you wouldn’t want to see us stressed out over a bit of money, would you?” Amber tossed an expense report onto my desk, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Before I could defend myself, she continued: “I heard you had dinner with Mr. Blake last night. No wonder your expenses got approved today. Talk about greasing the wheels! What did you treat him to?” Amber claimed I’d treated the manager to dinner, but her mocking gaze roved over my face and chest, clearly implying I’d used my feminine charms to bribe the boss for preferential treatment. Everyone in the office was already distracted as the year wound down. Amber’s loud voice immediately drew all eyes to me. “Oh, so that’s how it is! I was wondering why Mr. Blake had no plans yesterday but still waited around for Rachel to leave work together. Tsk tsk.” “Rachel, come on. It’s not like they won’t reimburse us eventually. Why did you have to cut in line?” “Was it really worth buying dinner just to get reimbursed first? Seems excessive.” Gossip and speculation filled the office. Amber looked increasingly smug. Seeing me at a loss for words, she assumed I had no defense and started openly spreading rumors. “Rachel’s got quite the sweet deal going. Don’t our bonuses, raises, and promotions all depend on Mr. Blake’s say-so? I bet Rachel’s about to get promoted.” The entire office stared at me intently. Their gazes – eager, fierce, resentful – felt like they could pierce right through me. But my mind was stuck on memories of my past life. It had started just like this. Amber inexplicably spread rumors that the manager and I were having an affair. To prove my innocence, I was forced to give up everything I’d earned through my own hard work. First it was the chance to submit expenses first. Then the grand prize I won at the company party. Finally, a promotion opportunity. Amber’s relentless accusations made her seem like she was championing fairness and justice. In the end, she reaped all the benefits. I was reassigned from the office to a construction site. While inspecting the work quality there, Amber pushed me into a pit full of steel rebar. Only in that moment did I realize the truth – Amber was the one actually having an affair with the manager. They had conspired to frame me so they could take my position. 0

“Look, she’s speechless. Amber must be telling the truth after all.” “We absolutely cannot allow this kind of impropriety in our company. Rachel Johnson, give up your expense reimbursement priority right now!” The crowd was getting riled up. I had become public enemy number one. Someone asked nervously, “What if Mr. Blake retaliates against us?” Hearing this, Amber made a grand gesture. “What are you afraid of? I’m the one who exposed this. If there are any consequences, I’ll bear them alone!” Her bold declaration won a round of applause. As people clamored for me to give my reimbursement priority to Amber, I calmly stood up. Looking Amber straight in the eye, I said, “Technically, it wasn’t my turn to submit expenses first. And yes, I did use connections to cut in line. That part is true.” Amber’s smug expression grew even more pronounced. But she wouldn’t be smiling for long. I turned to address the crowd. “If I used connections to get preferential treatment, and Mr. Blake gave me special privileges, shouldn’t he be disciplined too?” In my past life, faced with accusations and false charges, I had only wanted to quickly prove my innocence. I didn’t realize Mr. Blake and Amber were in cahoots, so I fell into a trap of trying to defend myself. No matter how much evidence I produced, as long as Mr. Blake insisted he was my boyfriend, who would believe anything I said? Now I understood – if you’re going to accuse me, I’ll drag you all down with me! Sure enough, at the mention of disciplining the manager, the previously righteous crowd suddenly fell silent. They were only brave enough to bully me as a group. Deep down, they knew that whether it was expense reimbursement priority or promotion opportunities, none of it would actually benefit them in the end. They just wanted to see someone else suffer. Amber hadn’t expected me to respond this way. She rushed to defend her lover. “You brought this on yourself by being cheap and easy. It has nothing to do with anyone else. Mr. Blake is a victim too!” The others immediately chimed in to agree. “That’s right, if you hadn’t seduced Mr. Blake, he wouldn’t have given you special treatment.” “We all know what kind of person Mr. Blake is. He just fell for your tricks for a moment.” “Maybe she’s framing him! Mr. Blake could be getting blackmailed.” 0

Memories of my past life began to overlap with the current scene. Looking at these people’s unchanged faces, I could only laugh coldly to myself. The sales department’s salaries were based on performance. If you didn’t meet the company’s targets, you only got the base salary of 2000. A n d 2000.And2000 was barely enough to survive on in this big city. When I first came here from my small hometown, sales was the only job I could get without a degree or connections. To meet my targets, I went from never drinking to being able to outdrink a table full of men. I stood on street corners handing out flyers in freezing weather, sometimes for an entire day. Having been through hard times myself, I wanted to help others when I could. After becoming the top salesperson, I often shared my performance numbers with colleagues to ensure everyone in the sales department got at least $5000 a month. Not only that, I would win back clients they had lost and handle difficult situations they couldn’t manage. I remember how grateful they always were when I shared my performance numbers with them, helping them calculate how much they’d be able to earn that month. “Thank you so much Rachel! I don’t know what I would’ve done this month without you.” “Rachel, you’re the best! You even bought us gloves and scarves. Now we won’t get frostbite when we’re out chasing sales.” “We love you Rachel!” But look at them now. Where was any trace of gratitude for what I’d done? In my past life, Amber’s accusations were full of holes, but they believed her without question. They immediately banded together to report me to the boss, demanding I be fired. When I produced evidence proving my innocence, they made snide remarks, asking if I could guarantee I’d always remain pure and innocent in the future. After Amber got promoted, she didn’t have the skills to lead the sales team to meet targets. Everyone naturally blamed me, insisting I take on the entire department’s sales goals. And in my foolishness, trying to prove my abilities and innocence, I actually did it. In the end, the whole department shared the bonus, while I was relegated to the construction site. When I died tragically, not a single person remembered the good I had done. If that’s how it is, then this time we’ll see who has the last laugh! 0

Amidst the chorus of condemnation, I calmly accepted giving up my reimbursement priority and promised not to cause trouble for Mr. Blake. Amber couldn’t believe I would agree so easily. She kept pressing: “You really mean it? No take-backs!” I casually reassured her: “If I go back on my word, you can report me to the boss and get me fired.” Satisfied with my answer, Amber gleefully headed to the finance office. I opened up the performance report I had prepared earlier. In previous years, to ensure everyone in the sales department could have a good holiday bonus, I had always evenly distributed my performance numbers among those who hadn’t met their targets. That way, everyone could get a year-end bonus. But this time, I had adjusted the report to show everyone’s true performance numbers. I sent it off to the boss’s email. At this point, the rest of the sales department had no idea they were about to lose their year-end bonuses. They were excitedly discussing plans for the upcoming company party. I sat silently in my chair, listening to them talk about the party. The light in my eyes grew dim as I recalled what had happened last time. In my past life, I had won the grand prize of $99,000 that the boss had prepared. It was the biggest prize at the party. But before I could even celebrate, Amber jumped on stage and grabbed the microphone to “expose” my affair with Mr. Blake. She claimed he had told me in advance where the prize was hidden. I tried to explain, but Mr. Blake beat me to it. He rushed to apologize to the boss, admitting to the non-existent affair and confirming he had told me about the prize location. His confession caught me completely off guard. My attempts to explain became stuttering and unconvincing. Faced with Mr. Blake’s impassioned confession and my clumsy denials, the boss chose to believe him. To prove my innocence, I decided to give up the prize money. In the end, the grand prize went to Amber for her “courage” in exposing office impropriety. The boss forgave Mr. Blake for his sincere apology, viewing my continued protests as dishonest excuses. I lost my year-end bonus as well. Lost in angry memories, I glanced at the time. I knew the boss would be arriving at the office soon, just like in my past life. The moment to launch my counterattack was approaching. 0

At 3:10 PM sharp, the boss entered the office right on schedule, just like last time. But unlike my previous life, this time he stormed in looking harried, phone clutched to his ear. As soon as he entered, the boss shouted towards the sales department: “Rachel! What’s going on? Why haven’t you sent the deposit for the party venue yet? The hotel says they’re going to give our spot away!” I poked my head up from my cubicle, putting on a helpless expression. “I’m sorry boss, I couldn’t. My expense report hasn’t been approved yet, so I don’t have the money to front it.” Hearing this, the boss grew even angrier. “Didn’t I tell you to submit your expenses first? Is the finance department dead or something? Why haven’t they paid you yet!” Amber had no idea what was happening outside. She emerged from the finance office with a huge grin, eager to show off. “Being first to get reimbursed is great! $3,200 in my pocket!” She had barely finished speaking when she saw the boss’s furious face. And the boss had heard her bragging about being first to get reimbursed. “What’s going on here? I told Rachel to submit her expenses first. How did you cut in line?” Only now did Amber realize that my reimbursement priority hadn’t come from Mr. Blake’s favoritism, but from the boss himself. Her smug little scheme was about to earn her the full brunt of the boss’s rage. “Boss, I—” “You what? Were you that desperate for $3,000? Are you starving? Can’t afford clothes?” “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused? We don’t have a venue for tonight’s party now. Are you going to find us one?” “Useless! What are you still standing there for? Waiting for me to fire you?!” Amber’s excuses died in her throat. As I stood up to head to the finance office, I brushed past her and whispered in her ear: “This is just the beginning. You’d better watch out.” Amber’s eyes widened as she bit her lip hard. But she could only watch helplessly as I walked into the finance office. I knew her heart was full of hatred for me. That hatred would make her even more vicious when she tried to frame me at tonight’s party. But it didn’t matter. As the finance stamp hit my expense report, I had already come up with a plan to turn the tables tonight. 0

Soon enough, 5:20 PM rolled around. My coworkers and I arrived at the hotel for the company party. The whole venue was decked out lavishly, a clear sign the boss had raked in serious profits this year. Otherwise he wouldn’t be so generous with that $99,000 grand prize. As soon as I entered, I spotted Amber and Mr. Blake whispering together in a corner. The two of them looked exactly as scheming as they had in my past life. After pushing me into that pit, they had stood over my body impaled on steel rebar, passing final judgment on me as I lay dying. “Rachel Johnson, this is what you get for always trying to be first at everything.” “With you around, I could never get ahead in the sales department. My husband’s position would eventually be replaced by you too.” “Look how hated you are. Even the people you helped despise you behind your back.” “Did you really think anyone needed your pathetic charity? Did it make you feel good to treat us like beggars?” My eyes had bulged with pain as I took my final breaths, unable to close them even in death. Only then did I realize that my attempts to help had been seen as humiliation in their eyes. They smiled and thanked me to my face while viewing me as their greatest enemy. Seeing my icy glare, Amber’s face changed. She quickly stepped away from Mr. Blake. This time, I didn’t sit with the sales department. Instead, I took the seat the boss had prepared for me in advance. To my right was a prize wall for the raffle draw. In the second box of the third row was the $99,000 grand prize that had led to my disgrace and wrongful death in my past life. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Amber and Mr. Blake’s gazes fixed on me as I stared at the prizes. As the top salesperson, I would be the first to draw a prize. Mr. Blake had placed that reward in this spot based on my usual habits. To escape their trap, I simply needed to choose a different prize. But I refused to back down. I had earned this through my own efforts – there was no way I would give it up!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295315”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #校园School #狼人Werewolf #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn