In the dead of night, I came across a post online. “What should I do if I’ve fallen for my female tenant? I’ve never liked someone this much before.” Just when I thought it was going to be some sweet story about a secret crush, things started to feel strange as I kept reading. The photos in the post looked a lot like the hallway in my building. The description matched me perfectly, but I wasn’t the tenant – I was the landlord. People in the comments were giving him advice: “Women are just playing hard to get. Give her a forceful kiss, and she’ll give in eventually.” “Even the toughest girls can’t resist persistence. Plus, you’re so handsome, she definitely won’t be able to turn you down.” “That’s how I got my wife. Once you sleep with her, she’ll do whatever you want.” The more I read, the more unsettled I felt. This wasn’t romance – it was straight-up harassment. Just then, my tenant Lucas sent me a message. It was past midnight when I came across a post online. “What should I do if I’ve fallen for my female tenant? I’ve never liked someone this much before.” At first, I thought it was just another sweet story about a secret crush. But as I kept reading, things started to feel off. The photos in the post looked eerily similar to the hallway in my apartment building. The description of the girl matched me perfectly. But here’s the thing – I wasn’t a tenant. I was the landlord. People in the comments were giving him advice: “Women are just playing hard to get. Give her a forceful kiss, and she’ll give in eventually.” “Even the toughest girls can’t resist persistence. Plus, you’re so handsome, she definitely won’t be able to turn you down.” “That’s how I got my wife. Once you sleep with her, she’ll do whatever you want.” The more I read, the more unsettled I felt. This wasn’t romance – it was straight-up harassment. Just then, I got a message from my tenant, Lucas. “Hey, are you there? I think there might be a problem with the plumbing in my apartment. Could you come take a look?” If I hadn’t seen that post, I probably would have gone over without a second thought. As a long-time landlord, I was pretty handy with minor repairs like changing light bulbs, fixing pipes, or unclogging toilets. I always tried my best to help tenants with issues within my abilities. But now, I was hesitant to go. That post alone was enough to give me the creeps. Plus, I had just had the entire building thoroughly inspected a few days ago. All the plumbing and electrical systems were fine. How could there suddenly be a problem right after he moved in? I looked out at the pitch-black sky and felt a chill run down my spine. It was summer, but I felt an icy wind seeping under my clothes. I decided to assume the worst and be cautious. With that in mind, I typed out a response: “I’m not home today, and I’m not really sure how to fix plumbing issues. How about my boyfriend comes by to take a look tomorrow? What time works for you?” Lucas’s status immediately changed to “typing”. He seemed to be struggling with how to reply. I didn’t bother waiting and went to get ready for bed. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt like there was a pair of eyes watching me from somewhere in the darkness. I didn’t even shower, just rushed to my bedroom. I wedged a door stopper under the door, finally feeling a bit safer. I had just picked up my phone when I saw Lucas’s reply. “How about 8 PM? That’s when I get off work.” I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it was just a coincidence after all. I mean, apartment hallways all look pretty similar. And there were probably tons of girls in the city with long black hair who were 5’6″ like me. Plus, the guy in the post said he liked his female tenant. I was the landlord, not a tenant. Most importantly, Lucas was pretty average-looking. You could easily forget his face in a crowd. He definitely wasn’t the handsome guy from the post. As they say, your face reflects your heart. Who would have thought such an attractive exterior could hide such an ugly soul? Just moments ago, I saw the poster like and reply “DM me” to one of the comments giving him advice. He clearly had bad intentions. Like many others, I saved the post, curious to see what he would do next. But now I had to figure out what to do about this fake boyfriend tomorrow. I wasn’t actually dating anyone. With that in mind, I called up my good friend Ryan and asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend tomorrow. It never hurts to be cautious. Pretending to have a boyfriend can help avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble.

The next day, as I was getting ready to head out, I ran into Lucas face-to-face. I had rented him the apartment above mine. The elevator was working fine, so he must have been deliberately waiting there. When I opened my door, I saw him quickly step back. He had been standing right outside my apartment. My heart skipped a beat as I suddenly thought of all those news stories about women living alone who end up as victims. In that moment, I deeply regretted not having Ryan come over earlier. “Amelia? I thought you weren’t home?” Lucas said. Those words sent chills down my spine. If he thought I wasn’t home, why was he waiting outside my door? What was he planning to do? Trying to hide my fear, I replied coldly, “I got back early this morning. What are you doing outside my apartment? My boyfriend will be here any minute. If you don’t need anything, he can head to your place earlier.” Lucas scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “My cat got out. I thought I heard meowing coming from your apartment. Did it maybe sneak in there?” As he spoke, he tried to peek into my apartment, his eyes darting around. “I don’t have a cat. Go look somewhere else,” I said firmly. But he ignored me and took a step forward, wedging his foot in the doorway. “I’ll just take a quick look. I won’t bother you, I promise. Please let me in,” he insisted. I instinctively tried to close the door, but I was no match for a grown man, even a skinny one like him. “If you don’t back off, I’m calling the police!” I threatened. Just then, my savior arrived. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Ryan shouted. With one hand, he yanked Lucas away from the door and slammed him against the opposite wall. Lucas let out a yelp as he hit the wall and slumped to the floor. “Were you trying to break in? I’m calling the cops!” Ryan pulled out his phone, looking ready to actually call. Lucas scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain, and quickly apologized to Ryan. “No, no, please don’t! I was just trying to find my cat. She closed the door on my foot when I tried to look inside. I wasn’t breaking in, I swear. It’s all a misunderstanding!” “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to!” Ryan snapped. Lucas turned to me and bowed deeply, apologizing profusely. Now that I had calmed down a bit, I wanted to confirm one more thing. “This is my boyfriend,” I said, gesturing to Ryan. “Didn’t you say your plumbing was broken? Why don’t we go take a look now?” Lucas’s expression flickered for a moment before he replied, “Oh, the plumbing? I actually managed to fix it myself yesterday. Everything’s fine now. Sorry for the trouble.” With that, he turned and left, not mentioning the cat again. I was in no state to go to work. All I could think about was Lucas trying to force his way into my apartment. If Ryan hadn’t shown up, I didn’t want to imagine what might have happened. I sat on the couch as Ryan brought me a glass of water. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. “I’m fine. How did you get here so early?” Ryan stuffed a bagel in his mouth. “Your message last night freaked me out. I flew back first thing this morning and came straight here. Good thing I did.” “How long is your lease with this guy? Just terminate it. Having someone like that living nearby is like a ticking time bomb.” So I sent Lucas a message saying I was terminating his lease. He didn’t reply for a long time. But I saw that the post about the crush had been updated: “The female tenant has a boyfriend. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. But I think I still have a good chance. After all, girls these days prefer slim, fair-skinned guys like me.” “I went to her door today looking for my lost cat. We chatted a bit, and she even batted her eyelashes at me. Her boyfriend caught us and punched me.” “Now she says she doesn’t want to rent to me anymore. It must be her boyfriend’s idea. Can anyone tell me what I should do?” Now I was certain the poster was Lucas. Even if the earlier similarities were coincidental, there was no way this could be another coincidence. He must have stolen the profile picture from someone else. Some commenters were starting to catch on: “Homewreckers are despicable.” “Even if you’re handsome, it’s not okay to break up someone else’s relationship.” But some people still believed in “looks are everything”: “She flirted with him too! It’s not like the guy is delusional.” “OMG, not only is he gorgeous, but he’s also an animal lover? I’m in love!” “I live for this kind of forbidden romance.” “Keep pursuing her! Maybe she’ll dump her boyfriend and get with you. The tenant could become the landlady!” I forwarded the post to Ryan. “‘Tall, dark, and handsome’? Excuse me, this is called a sun-kissed glow. I worked hard for this tan, thank you very much! What does he know? Who would want a scrawny guy who goes down with one punch? My lean muscles are what’s trendy now!” Ryan’s finger swiped left, opening the poster’s profile. “Wait a second. This photo…”

“What about the photo?” I asked. Ryan’s face lit up with glee as he pointed at the profile picture. “This guy is our CEO’s son. He’s usually such an arrogant jerk. Can you imagine what would happen if he found out Lucas stole his photos and was posting this kind of stuff online? Or what if the CEO learned someone was tarnishing his son’s reputation on the internet? What do you think he’d do?” Ryan cackled and forwarded the post to our CEO. “Big news, boss! Your son is trying to be a homewrecker!” Then he deleted the message exactly 2 minutes and 50 seconds later. I asked if he was worried about getting in trouble with upper management. He shook his head. “The CEO isn’t that petty. He might even thank me for letting him know before his son does something worse.” I could only pray that guy wouldn’t get beaten too badly. Sorry, dude. Lucas was still replying to comments: “Thanks for the support, everyone! I won’t give up. Even if I have to be the other man, I’ll win over my female tenant!” What a joke. He was the tenant, pretending to be the landlord. How insecure must he be about his own identity? He also argued with those calling him a homewrecker: “You don’t know anything! This is about pursuing true love!” “I know you’re just jealous because you’re unlucky in love. It must kill you that I’m handsome and own several rental properties.” “I’m not blind. I know when a woman is flirting with me. She wore a short skirt when she came to view the apartment. If that’s not seduction, what is?” Good grief. Wearing a short skirt is seduction? Then every woman on the street must be trying to seduce him. It’s summer – am I supposed to wear snow pants instead of a skirt? The more I read, the more disgusted I felt. How could someone so ordinary be so delusional and such a liar? That familiar username popped up again with more “advice”. His handle was WildHeart. “Don’t doubt yourself. When a woman wears a short skirt, she’s deliberately trying to seduce men. That’s how I got my wife – I couldn’t resist when she wore a short skirt. She cried and threw a fit afterwards, but after I sweet-talked her, didn’t she end up marrying me? She went from a country bumpkin to a city girl overnight. Now she’s living the high life. You’re being too gentle. Next time her boyfriend isn’t around, just force yourself on her. She’ll give in eventually.” This was straight-up inciting criminal behavior. Did he think there were no consequences for what you say online? I saved his comments as evidence and consulted a lawyer, but they said a case couldn’t be opened without something actually happening. I was furious but felt helpless. Women in this world have to face so many dangers and endure so much malice. Not only is wearing a skirt seen as an invitation, but even walking down the street can lead to harassment. It’s terrifying. WildHeart’s comment section was flooded with angry replies, but he didn’t care. He just blocked anyone who criticized him. I clicked on his profile and found it was full of toxic posts. He said being assaulted wasn’t a bad thing for women because it could increase the birth rate. He also claimed women these days don’t have children because they’re too educated. The guy was clearly insane. That night, Ryan stayed in my guest room. He even skipped work, worried something might happen to me. When my mom heard about the situation, she told me to move out immediately. These days, losing money was nothing compared to encountering someone truly dangerous. What rotten luck – I was the landlord being forced out by a tenant. As I was packing my things, Ryan called out from the window. “Our CEO’s son just showed up with five huge guys and a baseball bat! His face looks a bit swollen – the CEO probably smacked him around. Looks like he’s here for revenge on Lucas.” From the stairwell, we watched the young man kick down Lucas’s door. “Open up!” he shouted. When Lucas didn’t answer, the young man ordered his crew to pick the lock. “So you’re the ugly loser pretending to be me online and ruining my reputation?”

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I had just closed a major deal for the company when I received a ring from my girlfriend. Excited, I shared the news on Instagram, thinking she was finally ready to make our relationship official. But suddenly, my girlfriend’s newly hired male assistant slapped me and flipped over my desk: “You’re a director, for crying out loud! How dare you steal the gift my wife gave me? Have you no shame?” Instead of defending me, my girlfriend Gwendolyn said I didn’t deserve my position and publicly announced that her assistant Rowan would take over the big project I had just secured. That’s when I realized Gwendolyn wasn’t planning to go public with our relationship – she was going public with him. The whole office was filming the drama on their phones, enjoying the spectacle. But I didn’t get angry. Instead, I smiled and handed my employee badge to Rowan. “So you’re the CEO’s better half. Here, take the director position as my apology. Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.” Seeing my unexpected reaction, a colleague pulled me aside and whispered: “Don’t do anything rash. You can always land another project.” But what he didn’t know was that I wasn’t being impulsive at all. Yesterday, as I passed by the office, I overheard Gwendolyn’s assistant Rowan pestering her: “Gwendolyn, I want to make something of myself. Give me this new project you just landed. I promise I’ll do a great job and impress you.” At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Gwendolyn and I had been secret lovers for seven years. I had turned down offers from big companies to help her start this business. I had secured 90% of the company’s projects. Gwendolyn knew better than anyone how hard the journey had been. She was also a woman of principle who would never mess with important matters like projects. Moreover, she had once had a project stolen by an opportunist and hated that type of person the most. So when I saw the ring Gwendolyn sent today, I thought she had finally realized I was the best choice and wanted to marry me. I never expected Rowan to turn the tables on me, smearing my reputation by calling me a thief and humiliating me. I was even more shocked that Gwendolyn would abandon her principles for Rowan, who had only been with the company for a few short months. If that’s how it was going to be, I had no reason to stay at this crappy company. Gwendolyn still didn’t realize I had seen through their childish scheme. She thought I was just jealous. She suddenly frowned at me: “What’s with the sarcasm?” Ever since Rowan showed up, she always looked at me with prejudice. This time I didn’t waste my breath arguing. I just calmly said: “You’re overthinking it. I really am giving it to him.” I was giving him both my girlfriend and my job. I was about to leave when Gwendolyn grabbed my arm and dragged me to her office, her face cold. The company wasn’t big, and the office had poor soundproofing. As soon as she closed the office door, the employees outside who had been watching the drama eagerly started sucking up to Rowan, asking when he was getting married and having kids. Rowan responded shyly: “Having children is hard on women. I can’t make that decision for her.” He was already acting like Gwendolyn’s official boyfriend. And because of Gwendolyn’s silence on the matter, the employees believed it wholeheartedly. Hearing this, Gwendolyn’s hand froze as she was pouring water. Realizing she owed me an explanation, she softened her usually stern tone: “Rowan’s just a kid who doesn’t know any better. He was just joking around, don’t take it to heart.” “He has relatives at the client company. This project was landed thanks to him.” I gave her a speechless look. How ridiculous! The client, Thunder Tech, had a professional in-house tech team and didn’t need to outsource. They had rejected collaboration from the start. I was the one who refused to give up, begging and gifting until I finally got a meeting with the person in charge. He generously gave me 30 seconds, and I seized the opportunity to pitch our product. Seeing my capabilities, he tried to poach me with a high salary. When that failed, he agreed to collaborate. I had been pulling all-nighters and running around for this project, but she didn’t see any of that. Yet she believed Rowan’s casual claim without question. If she had given it even a moment’s thought, she would have realized that if Rowan really had those connections, he wouldn’t be working as an assistant at our small, struggling company. Or perhaps she understood everything and was just playing dumb. Seeing that I remained silent, Gwendolyn lowered her eyes for a moment, then took the initiative to make me a cup of coffee. She leaned close to my ear and whispered: “I’m just pretending with him. You’re the only one I’ll marry.” In the past, whenever we argued, I would forgive her without principle as soon as she softened her voice and made promises. So this time, she thought it would work the same way. She waved her hand dismissively: “Go back to work. I’ll handle the project situation.” But what she didn’t know was that I no longer wanted her. I pushed back my chair and stood up: “No need to go to all that trouble. I’ll just leave.” With that, I pulled out a resignation form, filled it out without hesitation, and walked out of the office.

Seeing that I was about to leave, Rowan hurried to block my way, putting on an act of being wronged: “Felix, I know you’re an expert in the industry. You’re right, I’m not qualified for the technical director position. Here, take it back.” He grabbed the employee badge and tried to shove it at me. I simply pushed him lightly, but he took the opportunity to fall dramatically, knocking over a chair and pulling down a computer in the process, alarming the surrounding colleagues. Rowan got up and waved off the concerned inquiries from coworkers, saying it was no big deal. Gwendolyn, startled by the commotion, came running in her 4-inch heels. After making sure Rowan was unharmed, she glared at me with furrowed brows: “Felix, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re a long-time employee.” Hearing this, the surrounding colleagues jumped in to lecture me: “Yeah, Felix. The old giving way to the new is for the company’s development. Don’t bully the newcomer just because you have seniority.” The harshest words came from Jack, the protégé I had personally mentored: “So what if you landed a few projects? You’re acting like you own the place.” “Got addicted to playing favorites, huh? Can’t even respect a genius like Rowan?” We had worked together for years, and I was the top salesperson. In the past, everyone respectfully called me “Felix” when they saw me. Now they were all gloating, staring at me with schadenfreude, eager for me to get lost. Whatever. Let them say what they want. I was done here. I left the company without another word. Gwendolyn chased after me. Seeing no one else around, she rubbed her forehead and said: “You’re just overworked lately. I’ll approve some time off for you to rest.” “Today is our 7th anniversary. Wait for me at home, I have a surprise for you.” As she finished speaking, the elevator arrived. I stepped in without saying a word. Back home, I cooked myself dinner without waiting for her. She still hadn’t returned by nightfall. I put on my shoes and tidied up a bit before heading out to meet with the client representative, but I ran into a coworker on the way. This guy was slow on the uptake, so he hadn’t distanced himself from me like the others. He still greeted me enthusiastically. “Felix! Are you going to the promotion party Gwendolyn’s throwing for Director Rowan? Let’s go together and split the cab fare!” He happily said he finally didn’t have to take the subway, but I shook my head: “That’s not where I’m going.” He gave me an awkward look: “Gwendolyn didn’t invite you?” I nodded indifferently and walked away. I faintly heard him muttering “Gwendolyn sure plays favorites,” but I didn’t look back. She never played favorites. She just favored Rowan. For Rowan’s sake, she could do anything. Breaking promises to me wasn’t unusual. Previously, when I was hospitalized with pneumonia, she said she’d come see me after a meeting. I waited until dawn before she finally showed up, claiming she was working overtime when in reality she was watching a movie with Rowan. A while back, we had an appointment to take couple photos. I waited in a suit until the store closed. She arrived unhurriedly, saying work had held her up, but she had actually taken Rowan shopping for some well-fitting clothes. There were countless similar incidents. Every time I questioned her, she would coldly scold me with a “work comes first” attitude. This dynamic was exhausting. At the café, the client representative looked at the progress report I submitted and exclaimed in admiration: “Felix, are you sure you don’t want to switch companies? We can offer ten times your current salary.” This time, I didn’t refuse. The client representative was delighted and said we could negotiate any requests I had. After discussing the benefits package with him, I returned home to find Gwendolyn sitting on the couch waiting for me, with takeout boxes packed. She had stood me up again. In the past, she would offer a litany of explanations, but this time she said nothing. After a moment of silence, she pushed the food containers towards me: “You must be tired today too. No need to cook, just heat this up and eat.” I glanced down. Various dishes were piled together unattractively in the plastic containers. There were stir-fried and boiled dishes, and even a piece of steamed cake soaking in the soup. It was clearly leftovers, carelessly packed up. She didn’t even bother to pack things separately, just mixed everything in one big container. It looked unappetizing just looking at it. I waved my hand: “No need, I’ve already eaten.” Gwendolyn gave me a long look, and the usually cold woman took the initiative to wrap her arms around my waist: “I’m sorry. He just got promoted, so as the boss, I had to show some support.” “I know you were wronged today. Let’s get our marriage license this weekend.” Hah! Easy for her to say. But when I was promoted to director, I happily took the initiative to throw myself a promotion party. I waited expectantly in the private room. The waiter reheated the food five times. I waited until the restaurant closed, but not a single colleague dared to show up. I sent message after message, but they all sank like stones. A kind-hearted colleague secretly asked if I had offended the CEO. I was baffled at the time. It wasn’t until later that I found out. When I wasn’t in the office, she had coldly scolded each colleague who said they were going to attend the party: “Is your workload too light? Bored out of your minds?” “All you think about is eating, drinking, and having fun. Is this what the company is paying you useless people for? You might as well quit now!” Thinking of this, I pried her restless hands from my waist and said coldly: “There’s no need for that, Gwendolyn. Let’s break up.”

The atmosphere in the room instantly froze. Gwendolyn took a deep breath, unable to hold back her emotions any longer: “I’ve made all these sacrifices for the company’s development. Other men would be grateful, why can’t you see that?” I ignored her twisted logic. She continued muttering about the importance of the company’s development as usual, saying that when the company went public in the future, she would give me a place. I had heard this so many times my ears were growing calluses. I raised my hand to interrupt her: “No need. I’ll pack my things and move out now.” It was the first time Gwendolyn’s words had been interrupted since she became the imposing boss. Her face flushed red with anger. She glared at me for a long while before coldly snorting: “No need. I’ll leave!” She slammed the door as she left. I didn’t chase after her, silently packing my things instead. The client company had arranged a free luxury single room in their staff dormitory for me, which I could move into anytime. I had just finished packing when I called a moving company. As they were nearly done moving things, I happened to run into Rowan sending Gwendolyn home. They were holding hands, chatting and laughing together. Gwendolyn had also shed her cold CEO demeanor, lowering her head with a sweet smile as she stood beside Rowan, the picture of a demure and virtuous woman. Rowan noticed me first and deliberately held her hand tighter. Gwendolyn sensed something was off and followed his gaze to see me. She hurriedly let go of his hand. She walked up to me, habitually about to explain, but when she saw me loading boxes into a van, she was stunned for a moment before changing tack to ask: “Where are you going so late at night?” Are you blind? Can’t you see the big “Moving Company” sign? I was about to continue loading boxes. But Gwendolyn blocked my way, suddenly shoving the clothes she was carrying into my arms. Seeing I didn’t react, she took out the clothes and held them up against me: “I know you’ve been too busy to buy clothes lately, so I picked these up for you when I passed by the mall.” Bought for me? My build requires XL sizes, but this brand-name shirt was a size M. The receipt that fell out of the bag showed it was paid for with Gwendolyn’s credit card, and the price was over $1000. This wasn’t something she casually bought for me. She must have taken Rowan to the store to try on clothes. She sure was generous. Just two days ago, I bought a $20 shirt and asked her if it looked good. She coldly scolded me for wasting money, lecturing me for over an hour about how hard it was to earn money, saying that dressing well wasn’t as important as having real skills. What now? Has earning money suddenly become easy? I put my hands in my pockets and coldly looked at them: “No need. As they say, ‘clothes make the man, saddles make the horse, and bells make the dog run faster.’ These expensive clothes are better left for Director Rowan.” Rowan froze for a moment as he took the clothes, then reacted and angrily threw them down: “How dare you insult me?” He glared at me with reddened eyes, rushing forward to attack. I stood my ground and slapped him, sending him tumbling to the ground: “Not just insult you. I dare to hit you too.” Rowan’s thin limbs were like sticks. The only reason he had managed to hit me earlier was because I was caught off guard. Now, I had returned that slap. Gwendolyn cried out, hugging Rowan protectively: “Felix! We can talk this out. Why did you have to hit him?” “If you want to leave, then leave! Don’t come back!” She didn’t need to tell me. I had no intention of coming back. I turned and got into the moving van, speeding off towards my new life.

After resigning, I went straight to work for the client company, Thunder Tech, where I was entrusted with important responsibilities. When I returned to Gwendolyn’s company as a client representative, I was welcomed in by the receptionist. As soon as I walked into the office area, I saw Rowan wearing a director’s badge, strutting between employee workstations: “Make this logo bigger, but also smaller at the same time.” “When I said make it black, I didn’t mean pure black. I meant that iridescent black, like a crow’s wings.” “Looking at it again, the first version is better overall. But I like the font from the seventh version, and the color from the sixteenth… Make those changes and let me see it today.” The employees at their desks were full of resentment. Someone couldn’t hold back and retorted: “This design has already been approved by the client. The main issue now is the stability of the program.” Rowan snorted coldly: “The client is just a nouveau riche. What do they know about true art?” “I’m the director, so listen to me. With my top-tier aesthetics, the client is sure to be satisfied. They might even give us a bonus.” Give me a break! The company developed a brand new system just to provide convenience for users, not to open an online art exhibition! Moreover, the text was so colorful it was barely legible. Were they trying to contribute to the hospital’s ophthalmology department? With Rowan’s level of competence being so highly valued, no wonder efficiency was plummeting. The program crashed as soon as it ran, and the quality had deteriorated beyond recognition. Some colleagues noticed my presence. Those once hostile eyes now turned to me for help. And my former apprentice Jack, who had said harsh things about me, had already been kicked out of the core team and demoted to buying coffee at his own expense. Rowan swept a contemptuous glance over me: “Looks like I need to suggest to Gwendolyn that we add a security position. Otherwise, any stray cat or dog can wander into the company.” The receptionist was about to remind him to watch his words, as I was representing the client. The next second, Gwendolyn strode past me in her stilettos. Thinking I had come to apologize, she snorted: “Well, if it isn’t Director Felix. Realized jobs aren’t easy to find out there and want to come back?” Rowan chuckled, pretending to be kind: “I think highly of Felix’s abilities. I think we can arrange a manager position for him. Work hard under me, and you’ll make something of yourself in no time.” Gwendolyn crossed her arms and looked at me with disdain: “Manager? He wishes!” “If you want to come back, you can start over as an entry-level employee. Half salary, no performance bonuses.” The other colleagues gasped, distancing themselves from me, afraid of being tainted by my bad luck. I couldn’t help but laugh. Gwendolyn raised an eyebrow, asking curiously: “What are you laughing at?” I silently took out a contract from my briefcase and slapped it on the table: “Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Felix, Technical Director of Thunder Tech.” “I’m here to inform you that…” “The project is suspended, and the contract is terminated!”

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## My mom is what you’d call an enabler—especially when it comes to her brother. She’d rather let our family go hungry, scraping together pennies for a meal, just so she could send money to her precious brother. When she found out I’d won $5 million in the lottery, her first reaction wasn’t excitement for me or relief for our struggles. Nope. Her immediate thought was to use the money to help her dear brother buy a house and a car. “Your uncle’s son is getting older, and his girlfriend said she won’t marry him unless they have a house. Since you won the lottery, just give them the money. It’s the right thing to do.” The kicker? My mom said this while we were still living in a rented apartment. In my last life, she didn’t even bother asking me. She secretly gave the money to my uncle behind my back. Then, I got sick—a serious illness that required urgent treatment. We needed money fast, so I went to my uncle and begged him to return what he owed. But he slammed the door in my face, saying, “That money was a gift from your mom. It’s mine now.” In the end, because I couldn’t afford the surgery, I died in a hospital bed. At my funeral, my mom stood by my gravestone, sighing. “Well, you were just a girl. Girls are always someone else’s responsibility. Even if you’d kept the money, it would’ve been wasted on you.” Now, I wake up to find myself back on the day I discovered I’d won the lottery. This time, things are going to be different. ###

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s no food left in the house. Do you think you could ask your boss for an advance? Or maybe borrow some money from a friend?” I jolted back to reality, snapping out of my daze. My mom was sitting in the living room, her face full of worry, glancing at me expectantly. The scene felt eerily familiar—exactly how it had played out in my previous life. Without thinking, I shoved my hand into my pocket, gripping tightly onto the lottery ticket that was about to change my life. I opened my mouth, but instead of saying what I had before, I chose a new approach. “Mom, didn’t I just send you $500 a few days ago?” Her expression stiffened for a moment, but she quickly covered it up with a sigh. “Oh, well, your cousin said he wanted a new phone, but he didn’t have enough money, so I helped him out a bit.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly on the inside. I was still using my cousin’s old hand-me-down phone, one so slow that it took a full minute just to open an app. Meanwhile, my cousin, decked out in designer clothes, always seemed to be living far better than us. But none of that mattered to my mom—she lived to serve her family, always ready to hand over money. I feigned a troubled expression and walked into the kitchen. Opening the rice bin, I found it almost completely empty—just a few stray grains rattling around at the bottom. “Mom, the money I sent you was everything I had. Last month, you said Uncle’s family had an emergency, so I gave you my entire $1,000 savings to help them. I don’t have anything left.” At that moment, my mom’s stomach growled audibly, and her face clouded over with even more worry. I glanced at the clock, then grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “Why don’t you go have dinner at Uncle’s house? It’s almost dinnertime anyway, and you can help Auntie cook while you’re there.” I rolled her electric scooter out of the garage and handed it to her. “I have to head to work—my boss just called me in to cover a shift.” She hesitated, looking back at me. “You really think it’s okay for me to go over there uninvited? Your aunt doesn’t exactly like me, you know.” I almost laughed out loud at the irony of her words. She *knew* Auntie didn’t like her, but that had never stopped her from bending over backward for them—sending them money, groceries, and even doing their housework. “It’s fine. Didn’t my cousin say the other day that he was craving your sweet and sour ribs?” Her face lit up just as I’d expected. “You’re right! I should go buy some ribs. I’ll get extra—little Mikey eats a lot.” She paused, realizing she’d said too much, then quickly hopped on her scooter and sped off. “I’ll head over now. Oh, and you should think about picking up a part-time job to earn a little extra cash!” I stood there, watching her ride away, her words still ringing in my ears. She cried poor to me, but all her money went to my uncle’s family. She didn’t even bother to ask if *I* had enough to eat or pay my bills. I worked late nights, often until 1 or 2 a.m., but it was never enough for her. Shaking my head, I went back inside, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and grabbed my hat and sunglasses. It was time to cash in my winning lottery ticket. — ###

In my previous life, I never understood my mom’s true nature. I kept telling myself that if I worked harder, achieved more, and treated her better, she’d finally see my worth and love me the way I wanted to be loved. So back then, the moment I realized I’d won the lottery, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I ran straight to her and blurted it out. “Mom, forget about buying rice! I’m taking you out for a fancy dinner. Guess what? I won the lottery—$5 million! We’ll never have to worry about money again!” She was overjoyed, but her first words weren’t about us. “That’s amazing! Now your cousin can finally get married. The girl’s family said they won’t approve unless he has a house and a car. Your uncle’s been so stressed about it.” She didn’t even pause to think. “I need to call your uncle and tell him the good news!” Her words made me freeze. I grabbed her arm, confused and angry. “Mom, this is *my* money. What does Uncle’s family have to do with it?” She looked at me, disappointed, as if I were the one being unreasonable. “Your uncle is my only sibling. When I’m gone, your cousin is the one who’ll take care of you. Don’t you want to build a good relationship with him?” Her logic made no sense to me. I was supposed to sacrifice my future for some vague promise of care from my cousin? I refused, but I had no idea she’d already made up her mind. Behind my back, she stole the winning ticket and gave it to my uncle. Uncle cashed it in, and his family took the entire $5 million for themselves. When I confronted them, my uncle laughed in my face. “That money? Your mom *gave* it to me. It’s mine now. Don’t even think about asking for it back.” When my health started failing and I needed surgery, I begged my uncle for help. He refused outright. “I don’t have money for that,” he said bluntly. “My wife’s pregnant, and raising a kid is expensive. Besides, your condition sounds serious. Why waste money on a lost cause?” When I brought up the lottery money, he got angry and hung up on me. “That was *your mom’s* gift to me. It’s got nothing to do with you!” When my mom found out, she scolded me for being selfish. “Your uncle has his own problems. You need to stop thinking about money and start valuing family.” In the end, I died at just 26, unable to afford the surgery I needed. At my funeral, my mom barely shed a tear. She stood by my grave and muttered, “You can’t blame me for this. You’re a girl—girls are meant to marry out. It’s not like the money would’ve done you any good.” I hated her with every fiber of my being. Now, I’ve been given a second chance. This time, I won’t let her control me. If she’s so desperate to sacrifice everything for her brother, she can go right ahead. But she’ll do it without me. ###

I didn’t tell anyone about winning the lottery. Instead, I disguised myself completely—baggy clothes, a mask, sunglasses, and even a new hairstyle. I made sure no one could recognize me before heading to the lottery office. I declined all interviews with reporters, paid the taxes, and soon after, $4 million landed in my bank account. Staring at all those zeros on the screen, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t even speak. In my previous life, after finding out I’d won, I dreamed of countless ways to improve my life. But not a single one of those dreams came true. I still lived the same miserable existence—squeezing onto crowded buses every day to save money, refusing to buy even a bottle of water when I was thirsty. My boss and coworkers constantly picked on me, humiliating me at every turn. Even when I was burning up with a 102°F fever, I had to stay up late working overtime to finish reports. Meanwhile, my uncle and aunt lived like royalty, using *my* money to buy a house, drive luxury cars, and feast on the best food while traveling the world. My cousin posted pictures on social media, showing off his designer watch or the emblem of his sports car, captioned with: *”Who can understand the loneliness of someone like me?”* Well, now it’s my turn to experience the “loneliness of the rich.” — ###

The first thing I did after getting the money was schedule a full medical checkup. I wanted to make sure I was healthy. The results would take three days to process. After leaving the hospital, I decided to treat myself to a nice meal at a restaurant. Originally, I wanted to order everything I’d been too frugal to buy before—all the dishes I’d only dreamed of. But my years of penny-pinching had become second nature, and in the end, I only ordered two modest dishes. It didn’t matter, though. I had plenty of money now, and plenty of time. I could take my time savoring life’s luxuries. As the sky darkened and the clock neared 9 p.m., I noticed my phone had ten missed calls from my mom. Finally, I stood up and started heading home. On my way back, I stopped by a street vendor selling stir-fried noodles. I bought a box, stirred it up with my chopsticks, and threw half of it in the trash. “Forgive me,” I muttered under my breath, “but sacrifices must be made.” Then I carried the remaining half home. When I walked in, my mom was sitting in the living room, her face stormy with anger. The moment she saw me, she grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it at me, shouting furiously. “Do you even remember you have a home? I’m starving to death here, and you’re out doing who-knows-what!” I sidestepped the ashtray and held out the half-eaten box of noodles like a peace offering. Smiling apologetically, I said, “Sorry, Mom. My boss made me work overtime, and I couldn’t check my phone.” “This is the dinner my boss bought me. I saved most of it for you. There’s even some meat left in there.” Her mood flipped faster than a switch. She snatched the box from my hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m such a useless mother,” she sobbed. “I can’t do anything for you. I have to rely on you to feed me. I might as well just die.” This didn’t happen in my previous life. But I knew this routine all too well. Four years ago, she’d pulled the same stunt to get me to quit my high-paying job in the city and move back to this small, dead-end town as a lowly office clerk. “Mom’s getting old,” she’d said back then, crying. “I don’t know how many years I have left. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can before I go.” Now, watching her put on the same performance, I felt a wave of wariness wash over me. But I played along, wiping my eyes dramatically. “Mom, don’t say that. Without you, this house wouldn’t feel like home. If you weren’t here, what would be the point of my life?” She sniffled, dabbing at her tears, and I mimicked her, sniffling even louder. Crying? Two could play at that game. When she finally caught her breath, she said, “Your aunt found you a potential match. I’ve already met him—he’s honest, hardworking, and a good guy. Why don’t you pick a date to get the marriage license?” She paused to sigh deeply, her voice tinged with longing. “My biggest wish is to see you get married and have kids.” And there it was. The real reason behind all this drama. I knew exactly who this “match” was. A 38-year-old divorced man with two kids—one of whom was about to graduate high school. His hairline was a proud homage to the “horseshoe” look, his face looked like it had survived a warzone, and his attitude reeked of a self-proclaimed patriarch. He was a Jacktic mix of styles, leaving his overall vibe a complete mystery. When I saw his picture for the first time, I honestly thought my aunt had found a new husband for *herself.* And yet, my mom still had the audacity to call this guy a “good catch”? Of course, it wasn’t about me. It was about the $20,000 dowry he’d promised her. ###

My cousin has been in a relationship for three years now. He’s turning 29 this year, and with 30 looming on the horizon, his entire family is in panic mode. My mom, of course, has joined the frenzy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think *he* was her son. The girlfriend’s family laid out their requirements: a fully paid, move-in-ready house with her name on the deed, a BMW, and a $70,000 cash dowry. My uncle’s family couldn’t come up with anywhere near that amount of money, so naturally, my mom turned her sights on me. Even $20,000 wouldn’t make much of a dent in their demands, but to her, every little bit helped. I knew her game plan inside and out. She was still rambling on about what a “great guy” my cousin was, even pulling out pictures to show me. I couldn’t bear to look and turned away, suddenly standing up and grabbing her hands. “Mom,” I said seriously, “I support you. Dad’s been gone for years, and I’m not the type of kid to stand in your way. If you like this man, then I think you should go for it. Move in with him, and you’ll even have his two kids to look after. It’ll give you something to do.” My mom froze like a jammed machine, her words cutting off mid-sentence. Her face turned red as she stammered, “W-what are you talking about? This isn’t for me! It’s for you!” I stared at her in disbelief. “This guy’s old enough to be my dad!” She avoided my eyes, wiping imaginary tears as she slumped onto the couch and started her usual sob story. “Your dad’s gone. The only family I have left is your uncle. When I was a kid and had nothing to eat, it was your uncle who gave me half a piece of bread and saved my life. Now that he’s in trouble, how could I not help him?” She sniffled dramatically. “It’s all my fault. I’m useless. What’s the point of me even being alive? I’m just a burden to you, and I can’t even help little Mikey. I should just die!” I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. “Mom, stop crying. I’ll go borrow money to help Mikey get married.” Her eyes widened in shock. “Sweetheart… that’s not what I meant.” But inside, I was laughing coldly. *Not what you meant? Then what was it? You’re practically selling off your own daughter to fund his wedding.* “Mom, you don’t have to say anything. I get it.” “I don’t have any other family. When I get married and move out, I’ll need Uncle’s family to have my back. Mikey is like a big brother to me, and if he’s in trouble, it’s my duty to help him, no matter what it costs me.” My mom’s face softened as tears welled up in her eyes. For the first time, she reached out and held my hand. “You’ve grown up, sweetheart. You finally understand the sacrifices I’ve made for this family.” I couldn’t stand looking at her fake, pitiful expression any longer. The very next day, I told her I was going on a work trip and moved out of the house entirely. I wired $20,000 to Mikey, who called me personally to thank me. “Nancy, you’re the best. With a sister like you, I’m so lucky. Don’t worry—when I’m doing well, I’ll make sure to take care of you.” Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he added, “By the way, could you lend me a little more? My fiancée says she wants a nicer car. Nothing too crazy—just another $50,000 should do it.” Feigning hesitation, I told him I’d check my finances and get back to him. A few hours later, I wired him another $50,000. On the phone, he was over the moon, showering me with compliments. My mom, overhearing the call, chimed in, saying I was the best daughter in the world. Neither of them seemed remotely concerned about how I’d repay the $70,000 I’d borrowed. I watched them from afar, their faces glowing with excitement and greed. Go ahead, enjoy yourselves. It won’t be long before you realize the price you’ll have to pay.

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## After five years of marriage to my husband, I finally got pregnant with our child. Overjoyed, I went to share the news with him, only for him to respond coldly: “Having Ethan as my child is enough for me.” It wasn’t until I discovered that my husband had been sending flowers to his ex-wife every Valentine’s Day that it finally hit me: He had never truly moved on from her. All he ever wanted was to have a child with the person he actually loved. Without hesitation, I scheduled an appointment to terminate the pregnancy and handed him a printed copy of the divorce papers. “This relationship? I’ll be the one to walk away.” When I brought home the pregnancy test results, my husband was in the kitchen helping his stepson bake a cake. “Claire, come over here! Look at the fruit Ethan cut himself—isn’t it great?” The way he looked at his stepson was full of tenderness. He was, without a doubt, a wonderful father. For five years, I had often wondered if my husband would treat our child with the same love and care he showered on Ethan if I ever got pregnant. “Babe, I’ve got some great news to share!” He smiled at me, his face lighting up. “Look at how happy you are! What’s going on?” I walked quickly to his side, holding the test results up like a trophy. “Zach, I’m pregnant! Once the baby’s born, Ethan won’t have to play with his toys by himself anymore!” But suddenly, his expression darkened. His voice turned cold. “Having Ethan is enough for me.” Ethan, overhearing this, threw a tantrum. He grabbed the finished cake and smashed it onto the floor. Frosting splattered everywhere. “Dad! If she has a baby, I’m leaving! I’ll go live with Mom! She already told me that if she has a baby, you won’t love me anymore!” Tears streamed down his face as he cried uncontrollably. My husband immediately hugged him, trying to calm him down. “Ethan, I promised your mom you’d be my only child, okay? Don’t cry.” Ethan sniffled and finally stopped crying but turned to glare at me with resentment. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. After five years of marriage, had my husband never considered having a child with me? Sensing my disappointment, my husband sighed. “Claire, I’m just not ready to have another child yet. Can you give me some time?” I quietly went to the bedroom to manage my emotions. On the nightstand sat a model airplane my husband had built for Ethan and a scarf he had hand-knit for him. I couldn’t quite describe how I felt. I collapsed onto the bed, resting my hand on my stomach. He only wanted Ethan. But what about our child? Feeling overwhelmed, I ended up taking an afternoon nap for the first time in years. When I woke up, my husband was sitting by the bed with a jewelry box in his hands. “Claire, I’m sorry about earlier. While you were sleeping, I went out and bought you something—a necklace. Let me put it on for you.” He opened the box, revealing a delicate gold necklace. He swept my hair to the side and fastened it around my neck. “Claire, your health has always been fragile, and I’m worried about the risks of you having a baby. I didn’t mean what I said earlier—I wasn’t thinking clearly. And as for what my ex-wife said, I don’t care about that. Ethan’s just a kid; I’m more concerned about how he’s feeling.” Seeing that I was still upset, he added, “Claire, my ex-wife left me when I was at my lowest, but you stayed. You’ve been with me through it all, and you’re the one I love most. Don’t overthink this, okay?” I thought back to the year I met him. He couldn’t even scrape together $300 and had to move from place to place with his son, struggling to make ends meet. After we got married, I sold my dowry to help him start his business. Over time, he earned more and more money and treated me like a queen. He even made an effort to bring Ethan and me closer, knowing his son might feel uneasy about me being in their lives.

I caved. Since my husband had taken the initiative to explain things, I decided there was no point in holding a grudge. Just as I was about to say something, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then stepped out onto the balcony to take the call. For some reason, I could sense that something was off. When he returned, his tone had changed. “Claire, let’s keep the baby. It’s our child, after all. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of so you can have a safe pregnancy.” I nodded slightly, but something about his sudden change of heart didn’t sit right with me. That evening, Zach cooked dinner himself. He even took a picture of the ultrasound report and posted it on Facebook with a caption about how excited he was. But that very post brought his mother to our door. “I was wondering why Ethan’s been so upset lately. Turns out, it’s because *you*—this little homewrecker—managed to get yourself pregnant with Zach’s child! You’re manipulative, aren’t you? Trying to use a baby to tie him down, huh?” Her words were like daggers, sharp and unrelenting. She had never liked me. When Zach and I got married, he didn’t have much money, and my parents had asked him to contribute at least a little financially to the wedding. That small request had become a source of endless criticism from her. She had clung to that grudge, accusing me of making things unnecessarily difficult for Zach, and she loved to remind me that, in her day, no one asked for dowries. Now, she had found the perfect excuse to berate me again. “I only recognize Ethan as my grandchild! When Zach married his ex-wife, Jessica, they didn’t spend a dime on the wedding!” To make her point even clearer, she didn’t hesitate to bring up Zach’s ex-wife, Jessica, just to spite me. I turned to Zach for help, desperation in my eyes. He sighed and said, “Mom, Jessica and I have been over for years. Can we not do this?” His mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But you still love her, don’t you?” Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t help but wonder—did Zach still have feelings for his ex-wife? I tried to silence that thought, reminding myself to trust my husband. But the sound of a chair being kicked over snapped me out of it. “Enough, Mom!” Zach’s voice boomed, startling her into silence. “I said not to bring this up anymore! And don’t mention Jessica in front of Claire again—it’ll just upset her.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated, then gently helped me back to the bedroom to rest. Lying there, I chastised myself internally. Zach had done so much to protect me—how could I let myself doubt him like that? The next day, I woke up to the smell of food. It was already 11 a.m., and Zach was setting the last dish on the table. “Wait, is that bell peppers?” I asked, surprised. “I thought you hated them? Why’d you cook them today?” Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. Zach’s mother hurried to open the door. It was Ethan and Jessica, his ex-wife. His mother’s face lit up as she ushered them in. “Jessica, come in! You know, Zach still thinks about you. Look! He even made bell peppers for you—just like he used to. Go ahead, try them and see if they still taste the same!” Zach froze, panic flashing across his face. He leaned in close to whisper to me, “Claire, I made them for Ethan.” He reached out as if he wanted to hold me but stopped himself halfway, withdrawing his hand with an apologetic look. “Ethan’s here. I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.” The three of them looked like a picture-perfect family, while I, the one who was supposed to be his wife, felt like an outsider. Jessica’s gaze drifted to my stomach. After a pause, she said, “Once your wife has the baby, I’ll take Ethan to live with me. You’ll have your own child, so there’s no need for you to worry about mine anymore.” Her words seemed like an attempt to draw a clear line between her and Zach, but I could tell she was testing him, waiting to see how he would react. Zach didn’t respond. Instead, he quietly placed a piece of beef on my plate. But I’m allergic to beef. Jessica gave him a long, searching look before saying, “Zach, do you even know what you really want?”

My husband’s sharp gaze swept over Jessica, but she just laughed unabashedly. “It’s time you figured it out,” she said, grabbing her bag. “I’ve got things to do. Ethan can stay with you for a few days.” With that, she walked out the door. My husband’s eyes lingered on her retreating figure for a moment before he quickly looked down, avoiding my gaze. Ethan stared at him, wide-eyed. “Dad, Mom says you love her the most. So why are you with Aunt Claire?” My husband frowned, his voice curt. “You’re too young to understand.” Under the table, he squeezed my hand, signaling me to stay calm. His mother snorted. “Your dad’s just trying to upset your mom, that’s all!” I could tell she said it to get under my skin, and honestly, it worked. My mind was already spinning. “I have work to do,” Zach said, setting his fork down and getting up to leave. But Ethan clung to his sleeve, his voice trembling. “Dad, I hate you! Mom’s always crying because of you!” My usually gentle husband suddenly snapped, shouting, “Go study! If you don’t finish by eleven, don’t even think about going to bed!” Ethan froze for a moment before bursting into tears, but Zach didn’t flinch. After that day, Zach started treating me better than ever. To the point where, if I’d asked for the stars, he might have tried to pluck them from the sky for me. When I was about six weeks pregnant, Zach suddenly threw on a jacket late at night, getting ready to leave. I handed him a thicker coat. “It’s cold outside. Are you heading back to the office this late?” He hesitated for a moment, then placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, looking serious. “Jessica has a high fever. You know her family isn’t around, so I…” “Go ahead,” I said, cutting him off, my face expressionless. He seemed anxious, worried I might be upset. “I’ll be back soon. I don’t have feelings for her anymore. I’m just taking her to the hospital because she’s Ethan’s mom.” I pushed him gently toward the door, slipping the car keys into his hand. The next morning, he called me from the hospital, asking if I could bring Ethan over to see his mom. I didn’t hesitate. I woke Ethan up, got him dressed, and took him to the hospital. “Claire, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Zach asked when we arrived. “I’ll go grab breakfast for all of us. Wait here.” As soon as he left, Jessica pointed to the phone Zach had accidentally left on the nightstand. “Zach and I have always loved each other,” she said, her tone dripping with smugness. “If you open our chat history, you’ll see exactly what I mean.” Her words were like a lure, and against my better judgment, I picked up his phone and unlocked it. The first thing I saw was a recurring order: every Valentine’s Day, Zach had been sending Jessica flowers. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel angry. Instead, I felt a strange sense of relief. Ethan, oblivious to my emotions, laughed and pointed at me. “Mom, look! Aunt Claire’s eyes are red!” The hospital was twenty kilometers from home. I didn’t take a cab or a bus. I walked the entire way, letting the cold wind clear my head. When I got home, I calmly drafted a divorce agreement, printed it out, and scheduled an appointment for a termination. Later that evening, Zach came home carrying a bag of hot food. “Claire, why’d you leave? You haven’t eaten yet. Come sit down.” His mother, who had been lingering nearby, rolled her eyes at me and said mockingly, “What’s next? Do you need my son to spoon-feed you too?” Zach’s face hardened. “Mom, can you stop being so rude to Claire?” But I wasn’t in the mood to watch him play the role of the perfect husband anymore. I handed him the divorce papers. “I’m done. This marriage is over. I’ll take the house and the car—as compensation. You don’t love me, so let’s not pretend anymore. I’ll terminate the pregnancy. There’s no point in bringing this child into the world.”

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At my cousin Aria’s engagement party, her fiancé showed up with a heavy metal safe, claiming it was filled with gold bars as part of his engagement gift to her. Aria was overwhelmed with emotion and was just about to open it, but he stopped her. He sweet-talked her, insisting she shouldn’t open the safe and instead suggested moving it straight to our family’s safe deposit box for safekeeping. Naturally, he asked my parents to guard it for Aria. But here’s the thing—those “gold bars” were obviously fake. His plan was to pass the problem to my family, so later, when the truth came out, Aria would blame us for stealing the gold. That way, he could call off the wedding and demand the engagement gift money back. I exposed his scheme on the spot, but Aria just laughed it off and forgave him. The wedding went ahead as planned. However, on the wedding day, it was Aria’s bold move that completely shattered him. “Luna, this is the engagement gift from our family to you,” Colin’s mom said warmly. “I bought a few gold bars years ago when the price was low. We’re not wealthy and don’t have much to give, but we hope you’ll accept this gift with no hard feelings.” She carefully set a polished, elegant box on the table. I blinked, feeling momentarily disoriented by the familiar scene. It was as though I’d been transported to that exact moment from my previous life. But soon, I snapped back to my senses. I glanced toward my parents, and my eyes stung with emotion. Taking a few steps forward, I threw my arms around them tightly. In my last life, my biggest regret before I died was leaving my parents behind. I was afraid they’d be heartbroken, unable to cope with losing me. Colin, Aria’s boyfriend, held her hand and gave her a heartfelt declaration: “Babe, I’m sorry for putting you through so much. I promise, after we’re married, I’ll take care of you like a queen.” Aria lowered her head shyly, her cheeks flushed. “It’s not a hardship at all,” she murmured. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.” My aunt and uncle were beaming with joy, practically unable to contain their excitement as they stared at the dazzling box. “You’re too kind,” my uncle said to Colin’s mom. “We’re lucky to have such a generous gift. Without Aria, we’d never see this much gold in our lives!” In my previous life, this was the exact moment I started getting suspicious. Colin’s family wasn’t wealthy—how could they afford to give such an extravagant gift? Something felt off. Later, when Colin left, I discreetly advised Aria to double-check the gold bars to make sure everything was legitimate. Her face immediately darkened. “You’re just jealous of me,” she snapped. “You can’t stand to see me happy!” My parents quickly stepped in to smooth things over, and I decided to drop the subject. But the truth was, the gold in that box was fake. This was all part of Colin’s plan to break off the engagement without taking the blame. Under Colin’s sweet talk and endless promises, Aria never even opened the box to check. Instead, she insisted on moving the box into our family’s safe for safekeeping. That box of fake gold bars wasn’t just a scam—it was the beginning of my death countdown.

Aria and Colin didn’t start dating until after college. Aria had fallen for him at first sight during freshman orientation. Colin was handsome and aloof, which only made her more determined to pursue him. She spent all four years chasing him relentlessly, despite his indifference. It wasn’t until after graduation, when Colin broke up with his ex-girlfriend, that he finally agreed to date her. Once they got together, Aria became completely obsessed. She saw every woman in Colin’s life as a threat, convinced that any female interaction was a potential rival. Even I—her younger cousin, whom she met only once on their engagement day—wasn’t spared from her suspicions. In truth, Colin was exhausted. He’d tried to break up with her several times because of her unhealthy possessiveness, but every time, Aria would spiral into threats of self-harm to force him to stay. I only learned about this from my aunt when she came to our house, crying about the situation. So, when Colin finally agreed to marry Aria, she was over the moon. Her obsessive love for him blinded her to everything else. On the day of the engagement, under Colin’s sweet words and grand promises, Aria happily placed the engagement gift—the box of purported gold bars—into our family’s safe for safekeeping. The very next day, Aria showed up at our house in a hurry, saying she felt uneasy and wanted to keep the gold bars closer to her. Thinking nothing of it, I retrieved the box from the safe and handed it to her. She opened it on the spot and was horrified to discover its contents—cheap, fake gold ornaments, not real gold bars. Her face turned pale as she clutched the box and ran out the door. I assumed she was rushing to confront Colin, so I didn’t think much of it and moved on with my day. But what came next was something I could never have imagined. Aria burst into my house in a frenzy and stabbed me to death. Not only that—she dismembered my body. It wasn’t until after my death that I learned the truth. Colin had used Aria as a scapegoat, claiming she had lost the engagement gift. Then, he turned around and married another woman. When Aria tried to reconcile with him, he not only rejected her but also demanded she repay the “missing” engagement gift worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Consumed by rage and despair, Aria blamed everything on me. In her twisted mind, I was the cause of her humiliation and loss. That’s why she showed up at my door and killed me. The pain of dying like that was indescribable—pure agony. No one would ever want to experience it again. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down my spine. This time, I vowed to stay far away from Aria and her obsessive, toxic love life. I was determined to live, and to live well.

At this moment, Colin was gazing at Aria with tenderness, as if she were the only person in the world. “Sweetheart, this engagement gift is really important. It’s tied to our wedding and our future together. Your cousin’s family has a safe—we could leave it with them for safekeeping. What do you think?” And here it was—the same tired routine. I could already see Aria, swept away by his sweet words, getting ready to stash the six-figure engagement gift at our house again. Before she could agree, I quickly stepped forward. “Colin,” I said with a smile, “our family’s safe broke down a few weeks ago. I’m afraid we can’t take on the responsibility of guarding something so valuable. If something went wrong before the wedding, it’d be terrible.” My parents, standing nearby and unaware of the brewing tension, looked like they were about to offer help. I discreetly stopped them with a glance. Hearing my comment about potential wedding issues, Aria hesitated and seemed to snap out of her daze. “Maybe we should just keep it at my house…” But Colin frowned. “Your cousin’s neighborhood has better security. Fewer people coming and going. Even without a safe, it’s still safer to leave it there.” Aria mulled it over and nodded, eyes sparkling as she turned to my dad. “Uncle, would you mind keeping it for us for a little while? Once we move into our new home after the wedding, we’ll take it back.” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d fall out of my head. They really weren’t going to let this go, were they? My dad, thinking it wasn’t a big deal, was about to agree, but I jumped in again. “You know, nowhere’s safer than the bank,” I suggested. “Why not rent a safe deposit box and store it there instead?” Colin’s face immediately tensed, and his parents, who had been quietly observing, started shifting nervously in their seats, stealing glances at Colin. Their reaction made me laugh bitterly to myself. So, they all knew the gold bars were fake. And here they were, trying to drag my clueless family into their scheme. “Is there a problem?” I asked innocently. “I think it’s a pretty good suggestion.” Colin’s mom smacked her knee and exclaimed, “But I heard gold prices are still going up! Storing it at the bank now would be a huge loss!” Colin quickly chimed in, “Exactly! Selling it or storing it would cost too much in fees.” I nodded along as if I agreed. Then, with a smile, I added, “That’s true if you sell it. But you could just store the gold bars in a safe deposit box. That way, you don’t lose value, and you get the added security. “Plus, no one’s home security system can compare to a bank’s. If something happens and it’s stolen, the bank’s insurance will cover it. At home, once it’s gone, it’s just gone.” Colin’s face turned sour, and he looked down, playing the part of a heartbroken man. “This engagement gift is our family’s hard-earned savings,” he muttered. “I just wanted Aria to be able to see my sincerity whenever she wanted…” Aria, moved by his “sadness,” quickly jumped in. “There’s no need to take it to the bank. We’ll just keep it at home.” Every time Colin and Aria disagreed, all it took was a sad look from Colin to make Aria cave. But I’d already lived through this story once before, and there was no way I was letting myself get dragged into their drama again. If Colin wanted to act, well, two could play that game.

I put on my best sincere smile and said to Aria, “How about this? Our family will gift you a safe as a wedding present. That way, you don’t have to worry about the engagement gift being stolen, and you can always see Colin’s sincerity whenever you like.” “Congratulations in advance, Aria and Colin! Wishing you a happy marriage that lasts forever.” If buying a safe was all it took to get these two out of my life, I’d gladly pay for it. Colin’s parents were now frantically signaling to him with their eyes, but Colin seemed momentarily at a loss for words. Aria, on the other hand, beamed at me. “That’s such a thoughtful gift! Thank you!” Colin hadn’t expected her to agree so quickly. He immediately tried to wave it off. “That’s really unnecessary! These gold bars are worth over a hundred thousand dollars. Buying a safe would be expensive, and it’d take too much time. We have plans to meet friends later, so we’re in a bit of a rush.” “Yes, exactly!” his mom added. “There’s just no time!” I turned to Colin with a pointed look and threw his own words back at him. “But Colin, this is your way of showing Aria your sincerity. Isn’t it worth spending a little extra time and money?” “Besides,” I said brightly, “I know a jeweler nearby who could come over in just a few minutes. They can even verify the gold bars’ authenticity for you while they’re here!” The room fell silent. I could see Colin’s panic setting in. His lips twitched as he stammered, “Th-there’s no need for that. It’d be such a hassle for you to call someone…” “Not at all!” I said cheerfully. “In fact, here they are now.” I pointed to the jeweler walking into the room. I grabbed the box of “gold bars” off the table and handed it to the jeweler. Colin’s face turned pale as he lunged forward to stop me. “What are you doing? You can’t just make decisions without asking the adults first!” Oh, he was panicking now. I calmly pushed his hand away and passed the box to the jeweler, who opened it right there in front of everyone. Inside the box, instead of gleaming gold bars, were cheap, fake gold decorations that couldn’t fool a child.

When the jeweler opened the box to reveal a set of cheap, gold-plated trinkets wrapped in red velvet, the entire room fell silent. Not even Aria said a word. Honestly, even I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. No wonder Colin didn’t want to store them in a bank or have anyone verify them. He couldn’t even be bothered to spring for convincing props—he was trying to frame me with the cheapest fake gold imaginable. And yet, these fake gold bars were the reason I lost my life in my last life. I couldn’t help but wonder what terrible thing I must have done in a past life to deserve being tangled up with people like Aria and Colin in this one. Colin’s entire family sat there with faces as pale as ghosts, unable to say a word. My aunt and uncle, furious and humiliated, tried to drag Aria out of the restaurant, but Aria just sat in her chair, sobbing uncontrollably, refusing to leave. “Colin, explain this! Tell me this isn’t true!” she cried. But Colin stayed silent, refusing to meet her gaze. I didn’t waste any more time watching their drama unfold. I grabbed my parents and left the restaurant, leaving them to sort out their mess on their own.

When we got home, I sat my parents down and told them everything that had happened in my previous life. In that life, I never even knew what was going on. One day, I opened the door, and Aria came charging at me with a knife like a lunatic. After I died, my parents were devastated. My mom was so grief-stricken she had a severe asthma attack and ended up in the hospital. My dad, holding back his own heartbreak, handled all the funeral arrangements and spent the rest of his days taking care of my mom in the hospital. It wasn’t long before he collapsed too. When I finished telling them the story, both my parents had tears in their eyes. My mom pulled me into a tight hug, gently patting my back. “You’ve been through so much, sweetheart. It’s all in the past now. We’re together, and we’re safe. That’s all that matters now. And we’ll stay healthy and happy, I promise.” My dad clenched his fists, his voice shaking with anger. “That Aria’s nothing but an ungrateful brat. She wouldn’t dare lay a finger on that scumbag Colin, but she had no problem taking it out on you. If she shows up here again, I’ll deal with her myself.” My mom was quick to agree. “Exactly! She isn’t setting foot in this house again. Not ever.” I wiped the tears from my face and calmed them down. “Mom, Dad, we can’t act impulsively. We don’t want to do anything illegal. But if they try to mess with us again, we’ll fight back with everything we’ve got.” A few days later, after the engagement fiasco, my parents went to work, leaving me alone at home. That’s when I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, I was stunned to see Aria standing there. Before I could say a word, she stormed in and slapped me across the face. “You jealous little b****! You just can’t stand to see me happy, can you?” she shrieked.

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Dad always claimed he had a connection in the admissions office at Sunshine University. My younger brother, Gavin, barely scraped by with a GPA that would get him into a third-rate college. But Dad insisted Gavin should apply to Sunshine University, the best university, saying his “connection” could pull some strings. As someone who worked in the local education department, I thought Dad’s plan sounded ridiculous. Connections like that rarely worked the way people thought. So, I went through every college admissions guide I could find and helped Gavin apply to a second-tier university abroad—one that matched his grades and seemed like a good fit. Years later, Gavin graduated but couldn’t find a decent job. Dad wouldn’t let it go. “If Stella hadn’t stopped me from getting you into Sunshine University, you’d have companies lining up to hire you by now!” The more Gavin thought about it, the angrier he got. He stewed over it for weeks. Then, one evening, when I came home for dinner, he snapped. He poisoned my food with pesticide. I didn’t even see it coming. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes—and I was back on the day of Gavin’s college application deadline. This time, I didn’t argue. “Dad’s the expert, right?” I said with a smile. “Let him handle it.”

I woke up to find myself reliving the day of Gavin’s college acceptance party. At the moment, Dad was at the dinner table bragging to everyone about how Gavin was about to be accepted into Sunshine University. He proudly explained how he’d been working his “connections” since Gavin’s junior year of high school. Recently, he’d met someone who claimed to work in the admissions office at Sunshine University. This so-called admissions officer had assured Dad that as long as Gavin put Sunshine University as his top six choices, the acceptance letter would arrive in the mail within a month. Some of the more practical-minded guests tried to talk Dad out of it. “You’ve got to be careful with people like that. He sounds like a scammer.” “No way!” Dad shot back indignantly. “We’ve known each other for a while now. He hasn’t asked me for a single penny. In fact, every time we’ve gone out to eat, he’s the one who pays the tab. You tell me, where are you going to find a scammer that generous?” Then Dad turned to me, throwing me squarely under the bus. “And isn’t Stella working in the education department? Stella, you tell them—don’t colleges sometimes admit students even if their grades don’t exactly meet the requirements? That’s how these things work, right?” All eyes turned to me. For a moment, my mind drifted to my previous life. I remembered this exact scene playing out before. Back then, I had given Dad a serious, straightforward answer. I told him that college admissions were one of the few truly fair opportunities for ordinary people to change their lives. There was no way someone could get into a top-tier school like Sunshine University through “connections.” I even gave him examples—cases where desperate parents had been scammed out of their life savings by people pretending to be college recruiters. These scammers would strike up casual conversations, claim they had “connections,” and promise the world, only to disappear once they got their money. Dad didn’t take it well. Right there in front of everyone, he slapped me across the face. After that, he confiscated my phone and my wallet and kicked me out of the house in the middle of a thunderstorm. But later that night, after being pressured by relatives and friends, he reluctantly dropped the idea. I spent a week researching schools and helped Gavin apply to a second-tier university in Germany that matched his grades. That decision haunted me for years. Any time Gavin faced even the smallest challenge in school, Dad would blame me for not letting him go to Sunshine University. Over time, Gavin’s resentment toward me grew deeper and deeper. It all came to a head one evening when I came home for dinner. Gavin handed me a glass of juice laced with pesticide. Even as I lay dying, struggling to breathe, Dad stood there watching. He didn’t call for help. Instead, to protect Gavin, he dismembered me and fed my remains to the neighborhood’s stray cats and dogs, bit by bit. When the deed was done, he told everyone I had run away with a man, abandoning my family. One night, I saw him sitting alone in my empty room, staring at the walls. “Stella,” he muttered to himself, his voice heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. But you were already gone. I had no choice. I had to protect Gavin.” I was there, my soul floating above him. I couldn’t contain my rage. I had been alive when he made his choice. He had seen me fighting for my life, and still, he did what he did. Now, back at the dinner table in this new timeline, I looked up at Dad, who was waiting for my answer. His eyes were filled with pride, eager for validation. “I mean, I don’t know all the ins and outs of how these things work,” I said with a smile. “But Dad, you’re Gavin’s father. You’d only want what’s best for him, right?” Hearing my response, Dad beamed and turned to the guests. “You see? Even Stella, who works in the system, isn’t against it. So why are you all so worried? Just wait! When Gavin gets into Sunshine University, I’ll throw another party to celebrate, and you’re all invited!” I couldn’t help but smile. Dear Dad, I can’t wait to see how far your “connection” gets you this time.

A few days after the party, Dad called me over for dinner. “Stella,” he said, patting my shoulder. “You know how tight money is around here. Gavin’s admission to Sunshine University is going to cost a little extra. Can you help out your brother this once?” He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, as soon as Gavin graduates and lands a good job, he’ll pay you back, every cent.” In my previous life, I fell for this line. Back then, I thought about how hard Dad had worked to raise me and decided to give him the money. But that was just the beginning. Gavin took it as a blank check. Every month, he’d come to me asking for $300, sometimes $400. If I refused, he’d show up at my workplace, crying and causing a scene until I gave in. I once suggested to Dad that he step in and talk to Gavin. “Oh, boys mature slower than girls,” he said dismissively. “Don’t hold it against him. You’re his sister—you should know better.” Looking back, it was laughable. Did being a sister mean I had to let Gavin bleed me dry? No. Not this time. “Dad,” I said, tilting my head, “didn’t you say that admissions officer was your best friend? And that he wasn’t charging you anything?” Dad’s face stiffened for a moment before he forced a smile. “Well, sure, but the guy’s been pulling a lot of strings for us. I can’t let him go unpaid, can I? You work in the system—you should understand how these things work.” “And besides,” he added, trying to change tactics, “as Gavin’s sister, shouldn’t you at least give him a little gift? Something to celebrate getting into Sunshine University?” I smiled politely but didn’t budge. If Dad wanted to waste his money on a scammer, that was his choice. But he wasn’t getting a dime from me.

About a week later, I got a call from Gavin. “Stella,” he said, his voice dripping with entitlement, “it’s already a done deal—I’m going to Sunshine University. So when are you going to buy me a new phone and laptop?” He didn’t even wait for me to reply before adding, “And they’d better be the latest models! If they’re not, I’m not going to school!” His words hit me like a flashback to my previous life. Back then, I had already enrolled him in a decent state school, with plans for him to transfer after a year and continue his studies abroad. But Dad had filled his head with fantasies about Sunshine University, convincing him it was his birthright. To keep him happy and on track with the plan I’d worked so hard to create, I ended up buying him a new phone and laptop. But let’s be real—he’s the one going to college, not me. If he doesn’t want to go, why should I care? So this time, I wasn’t in a rush. I popped a strawberry into my mouth, sipped some tea, and replied lazily, “Oh, that’s not happening. I don’t have the kind of money to buy you all that stuff. Besides, wasn’t it Dad who promised you those things? You should probably ask him.” There was silence on the other end of the line. Gavin was clearly caught off guard. I’d never said no to him before, especially when it came to things Dad had already promised. He huffed, but instead of blowing up, he asked, “Fine. If you can’t get it now, will you buy it for me after your next paycheck?” I laughed softly, unbothered. “Absolutely not. I’m your sister, not your mom. I’ve bought you snacks and small things here and there, but we’re talking about thousands of dollars. Why on earth would that be my responsibility?” That set him off. He practically screamed into the phone, his voice cracking, “Dad spent all his money on your stupid work gifts! He can’t afford it anymore! And everyone knows government employees like you are swimming in bribes—don’t tell me you can’t spare a little for your own brother!” “Stingy jerk!” I froze for a moment, then calmly hit the record button on my phone. “Excuse me?” I said, my tone sharp. “Who told you government workers are taking bribes? Why don’t you bring that person to me, and we’ll have a little chat?” “Let me be clear: I’ve never taken a single penny beyond my salary and benefits. If someone’s spreading nonsense like that, they’d better be ready to face the consequences. So tell me, Gavin—who’s your source? I’d be happy to report them for corruption.” The line went dead silent. Of course, Gavin didn’t actually know anyone. He had just made it up, hoping to guilt me into buying him what he wanted. The silence dragged on until I heard muffled shouting in the background. It sounded like Gavin and Dad were arguing. Then, with a loud slam, the call disconnected. Curious, I pulled up the security camera feed from home. Sure enough, Gavin hadn’t gotten any money from Dad. Worse, his old phone had been smashed in the middle of their argument.

In the end, Dad gave Gavin the brand-new phone I’d bought him earlier this year. To placate him even further, Dad promised to get him the latest model before school started, so he wouldn’t “lose face” at Sunshine University. As for Dad himself? He dug out an ancient Nokia brick phone and resigned himself to using it. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier with how things turned out. Thinking back to my past life, I remembered how I’d been using a five-year-old, barely functional phone while spending half a year’s salary to buy Gavin the latest Apple products. And what did I get in return? Snide comments. “You’ve been working for years, and you still can’t afford a decent phone?” he’d said. “You’re just cheap, Stella. Admit it. This phone is your way of making up for not letting me go to Sunshine University. And even then, it’s last year’s model—couldn’t you at least get me something new?” Well, if last year’s model wasn’t good enough for him, then this time he’s getting nothing. Let’s see how he manages without me footing the bill. I didn’t bother keeping up with their drama after that. I did hear that Gavin started strutting around town, bragging about how his dad had “pulled strings” at Sunshine University. He even claimed he was already set to attend a top-tier school like Harvard or Stanford. His lies stirred up quite a bit of chaos in the community. Parents stormed the local education office, demanding answers. “Don’t worry,” I told them during a public meeting. “We can assure you that the college admissions process is fair and transparent. It’s one of the few opportunities for students to change their lives based on merit alone.” I continued, “Please don’t believe rumors about buying admission spots. If anyone claiming to be from an Ivy League or top-tier school approaches you asking for money, report them immediately. “Think about it—if college admissions could really be bought, why would wealthy families bother sending their kids abroad? Wouldn’t they just pay for them to attend school nearby?” Most of the parents calmed down after hearing this. They were scared, not malicious—just worried about their kids falling behind. Once they realized they weren’t being left out of some secret system, they backed off. Of course, there were still a few who clung to the rumors. But honestly? Some people are determined to believe what they want, no matter what you say. If I couldn’t stop my own father and brother from making fools of themselves, how could I possibly stop strangers?

Time flew by, and soon the first round of college acceptance letters started arriving. Gavin watched as other students proudly showed off their letters, and for the first time, he started to feel a little anxious. He badgered Dad to contact the “admissions officer” and ask about his acceptance letter from Sunshine University. This time, it took a while for the call to go through. “Hello?” a lazy voice finally answered. Dad immediately switched to his overly polite tone, practically groveling over the phone. “Oh, no rush, no rush! Just wanted to ask—when is my son’s acceptance letter going to be mailed out? He’s just a kid, you know, getting a little impatient. Think you could speed things up for us?” The man on the other end didn’t miss a beat, responding with absolute confidence, “Of course! Don’t worry, I’ll get it sent out in the next couple of days.” Hearing that reassurance, both Dad and Gavin relaxed, their worries melting away. Gavin’s confidence returned in full force. He waited eagerly, day after day, for that letter to arrive. Whenever he saw other students on the street crying tears of joy over their acceptance letters from state schools or second-tier universities, he couldn’t help but mock them. “You call that a college?” he’d sneer. “Pathetic. I’m going to Sunshine University.” A few days later, the “admissions officer” called Dad again. This time, he told him that Gavin’s letter had already been mailed. To back up his claim, he even sent a photo of the acceptance letter with Gavin’s name on it. Seeing that photo was all the proof Gavin needed. He practically vibrated with excitement, going around town boasting to anyone who would listen. “If you losers are proud of getting into those garbage schools,” he’d say, “you’ll be blown away when you see my letter from Sunshine University. It’s already on its way!” Then he’d whip out his phone, showing off the photo of his “acceptance letter.” Some people were impressed, looking at him with envy. But not everyone bought it. “Why doesn’t it have an official seal?” someone asked skeptically. “No legitimate university would send an acceptance letter without one.” Gavin’s response? A murderous glare and a string of curses so vile he practically insulted their entire family tree. Five more days passed, and still no letter. At this point, Dad called me, clearly starting to panic. “Stella,” he said, his voice filled with urgency, “Gavin’s acceptance letter was mailed five days ago. Even if it was sent from California, it should’ve arrived by now! Do you think someone at your office intercepted it because they’re jealous Gavin got into Sunshine University?” Before I could respond, he barreled on, “Or worse—what if someone else stole Gavin’s spot? You’ve heard of those cases where people bribe their way into college with someone else’s acceptance letter, haven’t you?” Listening to his ridiculous accusations, I could tell Dad was spiraling. The fact that he still hadn’t questioned whether this “admissions officer” was real was almost impressive. Was he just naïve, or straight-up gullible?

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###My fiancée and her co-star shared a passionate kiss on stage during their play. The audience was moved, swept up in the romance of the characters. But I knew—there was no such scene in the script. For a brief moment, guilt flickered across her face, but she quickly defended herself: “It’s just acting! What, am I never supposed to take on romantic roles again?” I didn’t respond with a dramatic argument or accusations. Instead, I handed the bouquet of hybrid roses I’d specially bred for her… to one of the extras. Without another word, I turned and walked out of their cast party. Once outside, I called my mentor. “Professor, I’ve decided. I’ll take the offer to go grow roses out west.” I was at home filling out application forms when my phone suddenly rang. Without thinking, I reached for it and answered. On the other end, there was no greeting—just the sound of chaotic chatter, as if the phone’s owner hadn’t realized they’d accidentally dialed me. “Dorothy, it’s your turn!” someone called out. Hearing the familiar name, my hand froze over the hang-up button. “If you could go back, would you still choose to date your current boyfriend?” I already knew what her answer would be, but when I heard her say it aloud, it still felt like a knife twisting in my chest. Laughter erupted in the background. “Exactly! I mean, what’s so great about Brian anyway? He’s just some guy who grows flowers.” “That whole flower thing is so lame. His taste is awful.” “Roses? Every time? Seriously? Could he be any more basic?” I let out a bitter laugh. So this is what they thought of the roses I carefully bred by hand. Roses that, once upon a time, were Dorothy’s favorite flower. Yet, not once did she speak up for me. Not a single word in my defense. Dorothy and I had met in college. She’d been standing in front of my research project display for ages, trying and failing to get the perfect photo. I happened to walk by to check on the exhibit and offered to help her. One thing led to another, and before long, we were dating. Because she loved roses, I even based my graduate research project around them. But back then, I didn’t know she was still holding on to an impossible love—her so-called “one that got away.” The chaotic conversation on the other end of the line continued. No one seemed to notice that the call was still active. Someone joked, asking Mason if he’d crash the wedding if his partner ever got married. Mason’s calm voice replied, “No, I wouldn’t.” The room on the other end fell silent, the sudden awkwardness palpable even through the phone. Someone quickly tried to lighten the mood. “Come on, it’s just a game! Don’t take it seriously. Let’s drink!” I couldn’t help but wonder what Dorothy’s expression looked like in that moment. Probably drowning her feelings in alcohol, pretending everything was fine. Funny how, when you’re not loved, we all end up looking equally pathetic. The phone call abruptly ended as someone finally noticed the accidental dial. I put my phone down in silence. By the time I finished my work, the clock read 11 PM. Turning off the last light in the living room, I headed to bed. I’ve always been a light sleeper—any bit of light keeps me awake. But no matter how late Dorothy comes home, she always leaves a lamp on in the living room. Soon, I’ll be heading out west. She might as well start getting used to the dark. Like many nights before, Dorothy didn’t come home. She stumbled through the door mid-morning, still glued to her phone, and without looking up, called out: “I’m starving.” I didn’t even glance at her, still focused on my work. “Then order takeout. I’m busy.” She frowned, putting her phone down and stepping in front of my computer. The smell of alcohol hit me immediately. “Brian, can you not?” she said, annoyed. “We were acting. What’s the big deal about a kiss when you’re in character?” She crossed her arms, her tone defensive. “Do you even know how many people bought tickets just to see Mason and me perform? Our chemistry is what sells!” I nodded lightly, my eyes drifting to the computer screen behind her. “You’re right. You acted beautifully.” She mistook my calmness for anger and grew more impatient. “Brian, seriously. You can’t expect me to stop taking romantic roles just because I’m with you.” When I didn’t respond, she turned around, intending to shut my laptop. But her hand froze when she saw the words on the screen: Wedding Plans. It was supposed to be our wedding. Yet from start to finish, she hadn’t been involved at all—not even in picking out her dress. I’d handled everything, only to realize I was the only one looking forward to it. For a split second, guilt flickered across her face. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “I’ve just been so busy with rehearsals lately. Once this is over, I’ll make it up to you, okay?” Busy. Too busy to come home, but not too busy to stay out drinking all night with her friends. Was she underestimating how much I noticed… or just didn’t care? But I didn’t want to argue anymore. I simply nodded and said, “Alright.”

Maybe it was guilt, or something else entirely, but Dorothy actually stayed home all day and cooked an entire meal from scratch. During dinner, my advisor sent me a message. I meant to type a reply, but I accidentally hit the audio playback button instead. “Brian, your application has been approved. You’re all set to leave on the 11th.” Dorothy’s ears caught the key detail immediately. “What application? Are you transferring somewhere?” I calmly explained, “No, it’s just a favor for a coworker. I submitted the application for them, but I guess my advisor thought it was mine.” I casually replied to the message with a quick “Got it.” Dorothy, seemingly satisfied, picked up some food and placed it in my bowl. “Oh, that’s too bad. Your coworker won’t be able to come to our wedding then. Make sure to send them some of the party favors later,” she said with a hint of regret. I laughed to myself, bitterly. Not only would my coworker miss the wedding—I wouldn’t be attending it either. The next morning, Dorothy woke up bright and early, fully dressed and made-up, and dragged me out of bed. Groggy, I glanced at the calendar, trying to remember if today was some special occasion. She tapped my head with her makeup brush, rolling her eyes. “Are you serious? You forgot we’re taking our wedding photos today?” Wedding photos. Right. I’d almost forgotten. Months ago, I’d planned to surprise her by booking a session at the city’s most sought-after studio—six months in advance, no less. But when she found out, she’d scolded me for being wasteful. “Why would you book something so useless? What a waste of money,” she’d snapped. I remember blaming myself for not understanding what she wanted. Then one day, while cleaning, I found a stack of photos tucked behind her awards—pictures of her and Mason in various poses, dressed in coordinated outfits. Turns out, she wasn’t against taking photos. She just didn’t want to take them with me. Since the studio had a no-cancellation policy, the whole thing was left unresolved, and honestly, I’d nearly forgotten about it. On the way to the shoot, Dorothy hesitated before speaking up. “Mason wants to be one of the groomsmen for our wedding.” I let out a dry laugh. So this photoshoot was just her way of buttering me up to agree. I shrugged. “Sure, whatever you want.” A smile spread across her face, and she continued, “He’s my partner, so his groomsman suit shouldn’t be like the others.” “It also can’t be cheap. It should match the quality of your suit, at least.” She might as well have just asked me to hand over my suit and let Mason wear it himself. I nodded. “Alright, I’ll get him a suit.” When we arrived at the studio, she got a phone call. Her expression darkened as she stared at her screen. I asked, “What’s wrong?” She quickly hid her phone behind her back and snapped, “Can you stop being so possessive? I can’t even talk to my friends without you overreacting?” She waved me off. “Go get dressed. I’ll join you in a bit.” But when everything was ready—my suit, the set, the photographer—Dorothy was nowhere to be found. Her phone went unanswered. The staff stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. The photographer, clearly a little nervous, cautiously asked, “So… should we start?” I stayed calm, as if I’d seen this coming. After all, her phone screen before she left had been open to a chat with Mason. “Yeah,” I said evenly. “Might as well. It’d be a shame to waste such a beautiful backdrop.” After all, I’d be leaving this city soon. These photos would be my last keepsake. When it was time to leave, I discovered Dorothy had taken the car. Stranded at the remote location, I ended up hitching a ride with the equipment truck. Squeezed between piles of lighting gear, I must’ve looked pretty pathetic. Still, I was grateful they gave me a lift. Without them, who knows how long I’d have been stuck out there. Back home, I reached out to the editor working on our wedding video. “Hi, sorry for the trouble, but there’s been a change. The couple in the wedding video has… shifted. I’ll need you to re-edit it.” Then I sent over a folder with several gigabytes of photos and videos. It wasn’t long before the editor replied, almost excitedly: “Oh, now this is a real couple! The chemistry is undeniable!” “The last two people looked like they hated each other. Every photo had this huge emotional gap between them—it was impossible to edit!” Even a stranger could tell who Dorothy was closest to. How could she not?

It wasn’t until the afternoon that Dorothy finally texted me an explanation: “Mason’s sick, and we have a show coming up. I can’t just leave him hanging.” It was a sloppy lie. Just a few hours earlier, I’d seen Mason’s Instagram story: “Helping a friend escape her controlling boyfriend,” accompanied by a picture of two hands making peace signs. “Just reschedule the photoshoot,” Dorothy added. “We’ll redo it later.” No. There’s no need to reschedule. There’s no need for a wedding at all. But I still replied politely: “Got it. Take care and focus on rehearsals.” I could see the “typing” indicator linger for a long time, as if she hadn’t expected me to be so calm. Finally, she sent a short response: “You too.” For the next few days, Dorothy didn’t contact me. Instead, her social media updates became more frequent—a steady stream of posts about rehearsals, low-calorie meals to stay in shape, and other curated snippets of her life. It felt deliberate, as if she wanted to make sure I saw everything. I obliged, liking every single post. Meanwhile, I stayed busy. I sorted through years of accumulated belongings, donating anything unnecessary. In the greenhouse, the roses I’d cultivated were in full bloom. I cut every last one, bundling them into two bouquets. Then, I headed to my advisor’s office. “Professor, thank you for everything these past few years. Please, take these.” My professor looked surprised. “I remember when you first planted these roses,” he said. “You told me you’d save them for someone important.” A sharp pang hit my chest, but I forced a smile. “Well, you are important to me.” We both knew it was a lie, but neither of us said anything more. My professor looked down at the vibrant roses. “They’re stunning. My wife will love them.” After saying goodbye, I went to the orphanage where I’d grown up and gave the other bouquet to the director. The children were playing outside, their laughter filling the air. As we sat in the garden, I told the director that I’d be heading out west soon to grow roses. She didn’t get a chance to respond before the kids swarmed her, reaching for the flowers. “They’re so pretty!” “Wow, these are amazing!” She smiled and began handing out the roses, one by one. A brave little boy looked up at me and asked, “Can you really grow roses in the desert?” I grinned mischievously. “Of course I can. Just wait and see.” “Whoa, that’s so cool!” When I left the orphanage, my phone was flooded with missed calls. I finally answered one, only to be met with an angry tirade: “Brian, you’re still Dorothy’s fiancé! It’s her 100th show, and you couldn’t even bother to show up? And don’t even get me started on your stupid roses—you couldn’t spare even one for her?!” “Marrying someone like you is the worst thing that could ever happen to her!” The same people who mocked me for giving Dorothy roses were now upset that I didn’t. I held the phone away from my ear, letting them rant until they ran out of steam. “I forgot,” I said flatly. “I’ll Venmo you some money. Buy whatever you want.” I opened the app, found their profile, and sent over a generous amount. Without waiting for a response, I hung up. They were probably already celebrating, even though tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding. As I finished packing my bags, ready to leave, Dorothy stormed through the door. Her face was cold and unreadable as she shoved past me, heading straight for the bedroom. I knew this routine. She wanted to start a silent war. In the past, I’d always been the one to break first, finding ways to win her back. And she’d always used that to her advantage—secure in the knowledge that I cared too much to let her go. But now? I was exhausted. The taxi was already waiting downstairs. As I walked out with my suitcase, I spotted Mason leaning casually against a car. He gave me a smug smile. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of your bride tonight. I’ll return her to you tomorrow.” His words dripped with mockery, but I didn’t care anymore. I gave him a glance before getting into the taxi. As the car pulled away, I sent Dorothy one last text: “Congratulations on your wedding.” Congratulations to you and Mason.

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On our fifth wedding anniversary, I carefully selected a luxury sports car as a gift for Jack. Just after completing the payment, I happened to see an Instagram update from Lily Reed, the scholarship student I was sponsoring: “Celebrating my birthday with my beloved, enjoying the most beautiful scenery.” In the photo, her sunglasses inadvertently captured the reflection of a familiar male figure. I smiled, liked the post, and left a warm wish. Not long after, Jack called in a hurry, his voice filled with displeasure and reproach: “We’re not what you’re imagining. How can you be so narrow-minded? Are you jealous of someone young and beautiful?” “Stop doing things that make people look down on you.” When Jack walked in, I changed my mind. I slowly put the fifth anniversary cake I was about to throw in the trash back on the table. He saw the cake on the table and frowned, “It’s not anyone’s birthday, why are we having cake?” I remained silent and opened the packaging in front of him. The cream was covered with fruit. When he saw me insert the “5th Wedding Anniversary” topper in the middle, his mocking expression instantly froze. In just a moment, he quickly regained his composure, but his guilty eyes didn’t dare meet mine. “I… I was too busy. I forgot about such an important day. I’m sorry…” I dodged his attempt to touch me and cut a piece of cake, putting it on a plate and shoving it into his hands. “Eat up, at least you made it in time.” He was displeased. “Opal, what do you mean? I just forgot, do you have to give me the cold shoulder? We celebrate our wedding anniversary every year, what’s wrong with missing one?” Since I had put effort into preparing the cake early in the morning, I decided to cut a piece for myself as well. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, he snatched the knife from my hand, and due to using too much force, he cut my palm. I cried out in pain, clutching my bleeding wound, tears streaming down uncontrollably. Jack frantically searched for gauze and antiseptic to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” I walked to the third cabinet on his right, took out the first aid kit myself, and proceeded to treat the wound step by step. I winced in pain. He tried to help me disinfect with a cotton swab, I avoided him. He tried to help me bandage, I avoided him. He tried to check how I was treating it, I avoided him. This time he finally frowned, “Is this about what happened earlier today?” “Is it really necessary? I was just helping take a few photos.” How could it not be necessary? My husband had time to help someone else celebrate their birthday and enjoy beautiful scenery, but forgot our own wedding anniversary. How ridiculous? I finished cleaning up and continued eating the remaining cake. He grabbed my wrist, advising, “It’s dirty, don’t eat it.” Following his gaze, I finally saw the spots of red plum on the cake that I had stained. What a pity, I hadn’t even taken a bite. If it’s dirty, let’s throw it away. Before I could act, Jack beat me to it and put the cake back in the box, “Don’t move, sit and rest, I’ll go throw it away.” Bang. The sound of the door closing behind me came, separating my world from his. I sat at the table for a long time, long enough for Jack to leave and not return. The next day, I indeed saw Lily’s update on Instagram again. “Glad to have you by my side.” It was a side profile of Jack listening intently to a doctor’s instructions in the hospital room. Last night, Lily’s mother had a cancer relapse, and he was urgently called to the hospital. I very generously liked the post. Jack’s call this time came a bit late, probably because he had to run errands for everything at the hospital, and Lily hadn’t had time to “pour out her troubles” to him yet. “Opal, can you stop making a fuss? Lily is young, and it’s only right that I help take care of her a bit in this unfamiliar city? Don’t be so cold-hearted?” Lily was also on the other end, begging me not to misunderstand. Her affected voice irritated me to no end. I pinched the bridge of my nose and said, “Jack, I got hurt yesterday too.” I thought I could use his causing my injury as a reason to evoke his guilt. He should be taking care of me, not some irrelevant person. Unexpectedly, he suddenly flared up: “Is that little injury worth constantly dwelling on? Lily’s mother has cancer, you should be able to distinguish what’s important, now is not the time for you to make unreasonable demands.” I fell silent. He noticed my lack of response and realized his attitude had been a bit too harsh. So he softened his tone: “Does your hand still hurt? Be good, I’ll come home early today and we’ll…”

Huh. I hung up the phone. I went out and got into the car that came to pick me up, heading straight to the hospital. Seeing the wound on my palm, the doctor scolded, “It’s so deep, why didn’t you come earlier? Any later and you might have needed a tetanus shot.” I was at a loss for words, after a while I replied, “I forgot because I was angry.” Walking out of the hospital, I ran into Jack and Lily walking side by side, going out to eat. I felt instantly annoyed. I wanted to avoid them at first. But then I thought, I’m the legal one after all, it would be too cowardly to just walk away like this. I didn’t approach them, but Lily’s sharp eyes noticed me. She clung to Jack’s arm, her challenging gaze meeting mine. They were chatting and laughing, occasionally whispering in each other’s ears, looking exactly like a perfect couple. Just as Jack was about to see me, Lily’s exaggerated performance voice rang out: “Jack, your wife is here. Did she misunderstand something? Is she jealous of someone young and beautiful?” Jack pulled her behind him, clearly taking on the role of her protector, frowning impatiently as he questioned me: “Why are you here? Opal, can you stop picking on a young girl?” I laughed bitterly. “When did I pick on her?” I hadn’t even opened my mouth or moved my hand, how was I picking on her? “You came here just to make things difficult for her, didn’t you? If you have any issues, come at me. Her family situation isn’t good, I’m just helping her out, don’t make a big deal out of nothing.” As Lily’s scholarship sponsor, I knew which hospital her mother was in. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with this delusional couple, and had specifically asked the driver to avoid it this morning. I didn’t expect they had changed hospitals. And made me run into them again. I turned to leave. Ouch, Jack grabbed my injured hand as he tried to stop me. I’m particularly sensitive to pain, and tears immediately welled up in my eyes. Seeing this, he let go, his expression changing to panic. The hand that reached out to grab my bandaged hand was dodged as I hid it behind my back. “Go ahead and take your little girl to eat, don’t let her starve.” Ignoring Jack’s ashen face, I strode past them, leaving them behind. Arriving at the parking area, I indeed saw the sports car I had bought a few days ago waiting for me. I opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. Maddox’s concerned voice came through: “You were fine this morning, why do you look like someone bullied you now?” I shook my head, “It’s nothing, take me to the law firm.” “Alright, considering you gave me that car, I’m at your beck and call.” While waiting at a red light, Jack walked past the front of the car holding Lily’s hand. Maddox’s surprised voice sounded beside my ear: “Wow, that guy who just passed by really looks like your husband.” “If it weren’t for him holding the wrong person’s hand, I would have mistaken him for Jack.” I pressed my lips together and nodded, “You didn’t see wrong.” “What?” Going to work, I saw Lily’s figure at the company. Jack had arranged for her to intern at the company. The company recruits some soon-to-graduate students to work every year, and if she could contribute to the company’s revenue, I certainly wouldn’t object. What I didn’t expect was that a week later, Jack assigned her a big project. If she succeeded in negotiating it, she would get a higher commission. If she didn’t negotiate well, the company would suffer a significant loss. Such actions that harmed the company’s interests were opposed by many people, including me. But Jack didn’t listen. As the project approached a crucial point, he came to me. “Lily doesn’t understand many things, can you guide her?” I stared at Jack indifferently: “Now you remember me?” I heard that Lily’s negotiations hadn’t gone well, and the other party demanded a change of personnel, otherwise they wouldn’t continue cooperation. They didn’t outright say they would stop future cooperation only because of the pleasant cooperation in the past few years. I didn’t expect him to be so muddle-headed, confused in emotions and now confused in work as well. Entrusting such an important matter to the newcomer Lily. I started to not understand him anymore. Did I really make the wrong choice back then? He put his arm around my shoulders and sighed: “Still so angry? Still upset?” “No.” He lowered his head to kiss my cheek, but I pushed him away. “We’re at work, mind the impact.” I noticed his body go from stiff to relaxed. The frost on his face melted instantly: “Mm, I’ll kiss you when we get home.” The next second, he remembered he hadn’t been back to that so-called home for a long time, and his eyes flashed with discomfort. “I’ll definitely come back today.” I agreed to go save the situation. The RG boss and I were old acquaintances. Back then, they were willing to cooperate with a small company because of me. Jack was clear about this point. To salvage the company’s reputation, this trip was necessary. After work, I thought I wouldn’t see Jack’s figure as usual. I had just prepared my own dinner. The doorbell rang. Opening the door, Lily greeted me with a bright smile: “Sister-in-law, I’ll be troubling you again tonight.”

I was confused. Jack spoke up behind her: “You have to go to RG early tomorrow morning, right? Lily lives far away and definitely won’t make it in time tomorrow, so she’ll stay at our place tonight.” I watched him brazenly bring another woman into our home. He showed Lily around the layout of our house. I walked back to the dining table and suddenly lost my appetite for the dinner I had just served. In my ears was the sound of Jack patiently answering Lily’s curious inquiries about the decorations in the house. “Jack, this ceramic doll is so cute. Where did you buy it? I want to buy one too.” She picked it up and waved it at Jack. “This was a gift my wife gave me back then, she painted it herself, isn’t it cute?” “Wow, your wife is so talented, can she paint one for me too?” She looked at me expectantly. Before I could speak, the ceramic doll I had once given to Jack fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. Just like my mood, broken into pieces. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s all my fault, I wasn’t careful when I put it back.” My face darkened. Lily apologized repeatedly, making a show of crouching down to pick up the pieces. Her hand had just reached out when it was cut. Jack’s eyes suddenly tightened as he glared at me: “What are you doing scaring her, it’s just a broken doll?” That ceramic doll was something I bought when we traveled abroad together after he successfully proposed to me. When I first bought it, it was all white, and I used paint to change its colors. When I gave it to Jack, he said it looked like me, and he would treasure it like he treasured me. I never thought that in just the fifth year of our marriage, it would become a “broken doll”. Jack went to the cabinet to find the first aid kit. Only Lily and I were left in the living room. She changed her weak demeanor, smirking as she said proudly: “Looks like I do have some status in your husband’s heart.” I nodded and said, “Then I wish you success.” The next morning as I was leaving, Jack’s car was parked by the roadside waiting for me. Lily’s head popped out of the passenger window, waving at me: “Hurry up and get in, we’ve been waiting for you.” Maddox’s car had just arrived. I said perfunctorily, “Let’s go separately.” Before Jack could say anything, I walked around his car and got into the sports car behind. Arriving at RG Company, Jack and Lily were waiting for me in the lobby. He looked at Maddox following behind me, and the arm he was about to put around my shoulders tightened. His eyes flashed with anger as he smiled insincerely: “Opal, aren’t you going to introduce us?” I pried his fingers off, saying coolly: “A friend.” Lily smiled and spoke up: “Let’s go upstairs quickly. Don’t keep everyone waiting.” Unexpectedly, Jack’s face turned cold, and he yelled at her: “Isn’t this all because of the trouble you caused?” Lily’s smile froze on her face, and she looked at Jack awkwardly: “I’m sorry, Jack…” Her pitiful appearance made even me feel sorry for her. No wonder she could hold onto Jack. As we went upstairs, Maddox whispered in my ear: “Is this the man you insisted on marrying back then?” “Your taste is much worse than mine.” I followed his gaze to Jack walking in front, not refuting. Walking into RG’s CEO office, Jack and Lily were left outside. Jack was stunned, pointing at me and saying: “I came with my wife.” The secretary apologized: “I’m sorry, you can’t go in.” He then pointed at Maddox: “What about him?” “He’s a friend of our CEO, of course he can go in.” The secretary led Maddox and me into the office. Jack’s burning gaze felt like needles on my back. The RG CEO was Maddox’s good friend, and we had known each other for a long time. The communication went smoothly, and they didn’t make things difficult for me. I agreed to their reasonable requests and finalized the terms for renewing next year’s cooperation. After saying goodbye, Maddox and I left together. Jack caught up and grabbed my wrist tightly, causing me pain. Maddox’s eyes darkened as he also grabbed me, telling Jack: “Let go.” Jack, overcome with anger, swung a punch at Maddox’s face: “I’m grabbing my own wife. What’s it to you?” Lily and I quickly pulled them apart. I shook my head at Maddox, apologizing: “Go wait for me in the car, I’ll come find you after I resolve this.” After he left, Jack said in a low voice: “You’re not allowed to leave with him.” I pulled my hand away, looking at him seriously and said: “Jack, let’s get a divorce.” He frowned, incredulous: “Just because I hit him?” I pressed my lips together, not knowing where to begin. I had previously consulted a law firm about divorce matters. “If that’s what you say, then so be it.” I turned and left without looking back. Behind me, Lily spoke up to persuade: “Jack, she must be saying it out of anger. I’ll go help you talk to her.” He said: “No need.” “When she’s done throwing her tantrum, she’ll naturally come back!”

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After being Klein Barrison’s secret lover for three years, I found out I was pregnant. He made it clear he didn’t like children and was preparing to marry a wealthy socialite of equal status. Not wanting to lose my child, I packed my things, took his money, and fled Rey City overnight. For four years, I raised my child alone, away from that world. My little one grew up stunningly beautiful that he accidentally went viral online. I started live-streaming with my son and managed to build a thriving career from it. When people dug into my background and realized I was a single mom, I had to save face by explaining, “Well, I’m widowed.” Life without a man turned out just fine. I gained a devoted following of independent women who admired my strength. Then one day, I noticed something familiar about the profile picture and IP address of the top donor on my streams. Looking closer, I thought, “No way. This can’t be real.” Klein? Watching short videos? With his uptight, serious demeanor? Impossible. But then he showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night. He cornered me against the wall, his eyes dark and dangerous, and growled through clenched teeth, “Widowed? Funny, I don’t recall dying.” He grabbed my son, Edmund Croft, by the collar, dragging him forward. His bloodshot eyes burned into mine as he demanded, “And what about this? Care to explain?”

My name was Labia Croft, and I used to be the secret lover of Rey City’s most prominent CEO, Klein. For three years, our arrangement had been… satisfactory. Until today. Holding my pregnancy report, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety as I went to his office to see him. Klein was still in a meeting, so his secretary told me to wait. As I sat in his office, my eyes fell on a bridal magazine lying near his computer. Since when did Klein start looking at wedding dresses? Could it be because I’d casually mentioned wanting to take wedding photos before? A small, hopeful flutter stirred in my heart. Maybe I did mean something to him after all. But then I caught sight of him through the office window, walking with a tall, elegant woman who clung to his arm. I recognized her immediately. I’d seen her photo in Klein’s private album before. It was his first love. My heart sank as I lowered my gaze and smiled bitterly. Of course. Klein would never remember something I said in passing. His true love was back, and he was choosing a wedding dress for her. Was he going to marry her? I grew up in a blended family. After my mom passed, my dad remarried and had a son with his new wife, leaving me to be raised by my grandfather in the countryside. When my grandfather suffered a stroke and became paralyzed, I took on the responsibility of paying his medical bills. By the time I was in college, I was supporting myself and him entirely. During my junior year, someone told me nightclub jobs paid well. What I could earn in one night there was equivalent to three or four days working at a café. Desperate, I applied and got a job as a server. That was how I met Klein. That night, he was drunk and heartbroken. I happened to be serving his private room. He pulled me into his suite, and the next morning, I could barely walk. My manager assumed I’d slacked off and ignored my duties all night. Without hearing me out, they fired me. I couldn’t explain the truth, nor did I dare to. So I asked Klein to compensate me for my lost wages. Surprisingly, he was generous and offered me a lucrative job instead: as his companion. If I kept him satisfied, I could earn tens of thousands a month. The arrangement was degrading, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t let pride stand in the way of survival. I’d already given Klein my first night; there was no point being sentimental about it. Besides, he was tall, fit, and ridiculously handsome, with bronzed skin and abs like a model straight out of an action movie. If I had to sleep with someone, it might as well be him. After two seconds of deliberation, I accepted. We signed a contract. Three hundred thousand a month, on the condition that I was at his beck and call. When we signed the agreement, he made one thing clear. “Don’t fall in love with me. I won’t take responsibility,” he said. He didn’t want love, and I pretended not to either. For three years, I played my part, hiding my feelings while we kept things strictly transactional. But now, the woman he truly loved had returned, and he was ready to settle down. He didn’t need me anymore. Not as a lover. Not even as a transaction. And to top it all off, I was pregnant. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I quietly folded the ultrasound report and slipped it into my bag just as Klein walked into the office. I looked up at him. He seemed immaculate as always, his tailored suit sharp against his cool, chiseled features. Sitting down at his desk, he asked, “What do you need?” I’d come to tell him about the pregnancy, but now… what was the point? He was getting engaged. Our arrangement was ending. There was no way he’d let me keep this baby. But after three years of being hidden in the shadows for him, I wasn’t the naïve girl I used to be. Besides, I knew I wouldn’t fall for another man. This baby might be the only family I’d ever have. And I wasn’t about to lose that. I walked over to Klein and poured him a glass of water, feigning ease as I made up an excuse. “I saw a jewelry set I liked.” Klein extended his arm, pulling me into his embrace. His deep, magnetic voice brushed against my ear. “What jewelry? Wasn’t the last set I bought you enough?” “Orvis just released a new emerald-diamond necklace. It’s not too expensive, just over 200 thousand. I really want it,” I replied playfully. “Have Mars take you to get it later,” he said without hesitation. Feigning delight, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Klein.” A barely perceptible smile played on his handsome features. His warm fingertips brushed across my cheek as his thick lashes lowered slightly. His gaze slid down to my lips, smoldering with suggestiveness. “That’s all you wanted?” As someone who had been his mistress for three years, I’d learned how to read his mind. Catching on immediately, I giggled softly, feigning shyness as I climbed onto his lap. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tilted my head upward to kiss him, cautiously yet seductively. Even when he was sitting still, his presence was overwhelming, exuding a quiet intensity. As our lips met, the faint scent of pinewood filled the air around him. Before long, he took control, tightening his hold on my waist and prying my lips apart with the heat of his tongue. Breath mingling, I could feel the warmth of his exhale against my skin, his restraint unraveling as he carried me into the lounge and pressed me onto the sofa. Just as he leaned over me, a sharp pang shot through my lower abdomen. The sudden discomfort jolted me back to clarity. Protectively cradling my belly, I pushed him away with all my strength. He frowned, his annoyance evident as he stared at me. “I… I’m on my period,” I quickly lied, offering an awkward smile. “It should be the next week, isn’t it?” His scrutinizing gaze pinned me down as if he could see right through me. Flustered, I forced myself to sound confident. “I’ve been staying up too late recently. My hormones are all over the place. Can’t I have an irregular cycle?” He sighed softly and shifted off me, a rare trace of complaint lacing his tone. “And yet you still tried to seduce me.” Adjusting his disheveled tie, he sat up and smoothed out his suit. I followed suit, fixing my own appearance, and hesitated before asking, “Klein, do you like children?” “No,” he answered without a second’s thought. The chill in my chest deepened. Of course. Then, lifting his gaze, he asked, “Why the sudden question?” Feigning nonchalance, I chuckled. My voice came out soft and slightly hoarse. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just ran into a lost little boy at my apartment earlier. He was adorable.” His eyes narrowed slightly, studying me. “You want a child?” “Not at all. I just think they’re cute. If I had to have one, I’d pass,” I replied casually. “Good,” Klein said coldly as he got up, straightened his suit jacket, and left the lounge. I trailed behind him, hurrying to leave the company. Once outside, my resolve solidified. I had to leave. Checking my bank account, I realized I only had 500 thousand. It wasn’t nearly enough. My grandfather was still in the hospital, and I had to ensure his medical bills were covered before disappearing. I had to leave my 500 thousand to him. After all, I wouldn’t come back until I gave birth to my baby a year later. So, I must get all the money I needed from Klein. This seemed to be an urgent mission that was impossible to complete. I was already pregnant, and it wouldn’t take long before my belly became obvious. My time with him was running up. After much consideration, I decided to sell all the jewelry and handbags Klein had given me over the years. At the shop, the owner appraised everything, tallying up the amount. “Five hundred thousand,” she said. Shock rippled through me. These were luxury items, some even limited editions that Klein had spent millions on. How could she only offer me 500 thousand? The owner explained that second-hand items depreciated significantly in value compared to gold, which retained its worth. Though disappointed, I gave her my account information and waited for the transfer. Once the money was in my account, I turned to leave. That was when a well-dressed, dignified middle-aged woman called out to me. Turning around, my stomach knotted. It was Klein’s mother, Marina. “Labia, are you that desperate for money? Looks like my son doesn’t treat you very well,” she sneered. “Not at all,” I murmured softly, overwhelmed by the oppressive aura of an elite matriarch. Instinctively, I wanted to walk away. “Wait,” Marina said, stopping me. “I need to talk to you.” In a nearby café, she casually slid a check across the table and said in disdain, “Klein’s engagement is imminent. Here’s a million. Leave him.” My heart leapt. I snatched the check eagerly, unable to suppress my joy. With this million, along with the 500 thousand I already had, I could start fresh with my baby. Marina’s eyes flickered, her expression shifting from scornful to mocking. “A million was all it took? I thought you’d demand far more.” I didn’t care about her opinion. All I could think about was the money in my hand. Now, I could leave Klein as quickly as possible. “Thank you, Mrs. Barrison. I’ll keep my word and ensure there’s no further…” “Nothing further between us?” A voice, as cold as ice, cut through the air. Turning my head, I froze. Klein’s flawless face loomed before me, his sharp features carved with an icy chill. My body stiffened as I inhaled sharply. “What kind of deal are we discussing?” Klein’s gaze flicked to the check in my hand. His lips pressed tightly together, his eyes filled with frost. I immediately looked down, avoiding his piercing stare.

Marina’s voice was sharp with arrogance. “See? This woman is willing to leave you for just a million. She’s only after our family’s money.” Klein let out a sneer, gripping my wrist tightly as he dragged me out to his car. Once inside, he turned to me, his gaze icy. “The check.” I didn’t dare make a sound and handed it over with trembling hands. Without hesitation, he tore the check into pieces, letting the scraps fall to the floor. My heart clenched at the sight, but I didn’t dare protest. Klein’s eyes darkened, his voice laced with mockery. “Feeling bad for it? Tell me, Labia, is that all I’m worth to you? Just one million?” My chest tightened, his words slicing through me. Was this supposed to be some grand act of wounded pride? The same man who once told me we were only a transaction was now upset that I treated it like one. He was the one getting engaged. What right did he have to scold me? I stayed silent. A million meant nothing to him, but to me, it was life-changing. I bit back my frustration, knowing I couldn’t afford to upset him just yet. The money wasn’t in my account. “You’re getting engaged, aren’t you?” I asked softly, my eyes filling with tears. I made sure I looked as pitiful as possible, a picture of heartbreak. Klein’s cold demeanor faltered. His eyes softened, guilt flickering in their depths. After a long silence, he finally muttered, “Maybe.” Maybe? That was laughable. He was clearly getting married, yet here he was, acting conflicted. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I forced a tremble into my voice. “We’ve been together for three years. I didn’t expect to feel so deeply for you, but I respect your decision. I just… hope you’ll be happy.” Now I had the upper hand, making him the one who needed to apologize. Klein’s guilt hit him in full force. His grip on me tightened as he whispered, “I’m sorry. “I know my mother is the one pressuring you to leave. But if there’s anyone who should compensate you, it’s me. I’ll transfer one million to you.” Yes! My guilt worked perfectly. Relief washed over me. The deal was still intact. We sat in silence for a while before he finally looked up, his expression hesitant. “How about… we break up next month?” Seriously? A scheduled breakup? What kind of person would treat relationships like a business calendar? Rage simmered beneath my calm exterior, but I forced it down. After all, the money wasn’t in my account yet. I leaned into him, playing the obedient, heartbroken lover. “Even though it hurts, I’ll do whatever you say.” Klein’s guilt deepened at my words. He brushed his cheek against mine, his voice soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

The next few days passed with me pretending nothing had changed, dutifully playing the perfect companion. Today was Klein’s birthday. He had a refined palate and would only eat the custom cakes from the Crown Hotel. Months ago, I’d secretly taken lessons from the hotel’s private kitchen to learn how to bake his favorite cake, hoping to surprise him. That morning, I headed to the Crown Hotel to make the cake myself. But fate seemed determined to toy with me. Before I even started, I ran into Christie Anderson, Klein’s first love. I instinctively turned to leave, but she spotted me immediately. “Labia, isn’t it?” she said, her tone carrying a hint of superiority. Since she knew who I was, hiding would be pointless. Someone of her status could uncover my identity with ease. “I didn’t think you’d know me,” I replied casually, picking up the baking tools and ingredients as if unfazed. “Are you making a cake for Klein?” she asked, her tone tightening when I didn’t give her the attention she wanted. “Mm-hmm,” I answered indifferently. “I’ve already ordered his birthday cake. There’s no need for you to make another. It’ll just go to waste,” she said with an air of authority. Her words lit a fire in me. “How do you know it’ll go to waste? He can eat yours during the day and mine at night. After all, he spends every night at my place. I’d say our relationship is far more intimate than yours.” Her face turned pale, then red. “How rude! How could Klein have anything to do with someone like you?” “And yet, here we are,” I shot back with a smirk. “If you have a problem, take it up with him.” Ignoring her, I returned to my baking, leaving her fuming as she stomped off. For the past three years, I’d been the one celebrating Klein’s birthday. Now that his first love was back, I was clearly no longer needed. But that was fine. If he didn’t eat the cake, I would. I’d been craving sweets anyway. Baking wasn’t easy. It took me over a dozen tries to get the decorations right, but I found the process oddly satisfying. The chefs were also patient, teaching me repeatedly. When I finally finished and brought the cake home, it was already late afternoon. Exhausted from the morning’s effort and my pregnancy, I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep immediately. When I woke, the sky outside was dark. A wave of loneliness swept over me as I lay in the quiet, empty house. Klein hadn’t come home. Of course, Christie was more important to him now. He was probably with her, celebrating his birthday, blowing out candles together. I closed my eyes, trying to will myself back to sleep. But then the mattress dipped beside me, and the familiar scent of pinewood filled the air. I opened my eyes to find Klein’s face inches from mine. “Awake?” His deep, magnetic voice carried a surprising warmth. “Were you planning to skip my birthday entirely?” His familiar yet distant face blurred as my chest tightened. My nose stung, and tears welled up in my eyes. I asked, my voice thick with emotion, “Why did you come back so late?” Klein raised an eyebrow. “I left work at 4:30 and came straight home. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. It’s already past six.” “I thought… you weren’t coming back,” I murmured. “Why wouldn’t I? You mentioned you had a surprise for me. Don’t tell me you didn’t prepare anything.” “Of course I did!” I exclaimed, quickly getting up. I went to the living room, opened the fridge, and pulled out the cake I’d worked so hard on. “Ta-da! I made this just for you. Isn’t it a nice surprise?” I asked with a bright smile. Klein’s gaze softened as he looked at the cake. “You put in a lot of effort, didn’t you?” “Of course! So, where’s my reward?” I teased, leaning closer playfully. “Later, I’ll have Mars transfer a million to your account,” he said casually, “and the title to this property as well.” My heart leaped at the unexpected bonus, but I kept my excitement hidden behind a facade of sorrow. “Klein, I don’t care about things like that,” I said, pretending to be emotional. He cupped my face gently and kissed me. “But I care. I want to make it up to you.” We ate the cake together, laughing and chatting, and ended up curled up on the couch watching a show. Klein, who usually only had a small piece of cake on his birthdays, surprised me by eating more than half this time. I lay with my head on his lap, gazing up at his perfect jawline. He might not be a good man, but he was undeniably the epitome of male beauty. As I thought about it, my hand instinctively moved to my flat stomach. If my baby inherited his looks, they’d surely be stunning. Klein had said he came straight home after work. Did that mean he didn’t spend his birthday with Christie? Could it be… I still had a place in his heart? The thought made my heart stir, and I couldn’t help but call his name. He was engrossed in the movie but still responded with a soft, indulgent grunt. “If I got pregnant… would you want the baby?” I asked tentatively. His focus finally shifted, and he looked down at me, placing a warm hand on my stomach. “You’re pregnant?” My heart raced at the sensation of his hand against me. “No… I mean, what if?” Klein thought for a few moments before answering. “I don’t want kids, and I don’t like them. But if…” I hung on to his every word, waiting for the rest of his answer. But just then, his phone rang, cutting through the moment. He glanced at the caller ID, hesitated briefly, then picked up. From the faint sound on the other end, I recognized Christie’s voice. My heart sank. Klein kept his tone neutral, speaking only a few words before hanging up. I couldn’t help but wonder. Had they argued? Was that why he came back to me? As if confirming my suspicion, Klein turned to me after the call and said, “Labia, I need to stop by the family estate. Don’t wait up.” I forced a lighthearted “Okay” as he left, the sound of the door closing echoing in the silent apartment. He was probably going to be with Christie now.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295305”, 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

One of my coworkers had a notorious habit of freeloading. Whether it was something as small as a ballpoint pen or as expensive as a pair of headphones or a phone, she would sneakily take whatever wasn’t hers when no one was looking. “We’re all coworkers, aren’t we? What’s the big deal if I use your stuff?” she’d say, completely unapologetic. “If anything, you should be thanking me! The cheap junk you’re using practically destroyed my hands. I haven’t even charged you for the medical bills yet!” Word around the office was that her family owned the company, so nobody dared confront her, no matter how angry they were. Until I joined. When I hosted a birthday party for the team, she managed to swipe an iPad off the cruise ship we’d rented for the event and then faked a heart attack to cover it up. Big mistake. I used to work as a professional in search and rescue. CPR was my specialty. “Sandra! Why did you take my phone again? I need it to call a client!” Laura’s voice trembled as she spoke, her face pale with frustration. “Why the shouting? Your phone was just sitting there on your desk. If you’re not using it, isn’t it a waste? I’m doing you a favor by putting it to use. You should be grateful,” Sandra replied lazily. She lounged at her desk, a sheet mask plastered to her face, watching a drama on her phone. The occasional giggle escaped her lips, the sound only adding fuel to Laura’s frustration. Laura clenched her fists but didn’t dare fully express her anger. Instead, she muttered under her breath, “Just make sure you give it back when you’re done. I need it too, you know.” Sandra ignored her completely, pretending not to hear. It wasn’t until another coworker couldn’t take it anymore that someone spoke up. “Sandra, Laura needs her phone. Give it back.” Sandra shot them an annoyed glance. “What are you yelling about? Her phone isn’t even with me.” Laura froze. “Then where’s my phone?” “It’s at the repair shop. Your phone broke, so I sent it in for you. Be a dear and reimburse me for the delivery fee. That would be 100 bucks.” Sandra reached out toward Laura, completely unfazed. Tears welled up in Laura’s eyes. “Sandra, that’s my brand-new phone! How could it just break like that?” “Come on, people drop dead all day. Why can’t a phone suddenly break?” Sandra said with a shrug, then leaned in with a smug smirk. “Or are you just trying to avoid paying the fee? Laura, think carefully. My family owns this company. If you want to ruin your career, be my guest.” Her veiled threat shut Laura up instantly. She wiped her tears and, shaking, handed 100 dollars to Sandra. I had just finished my onboarding paperwork when I walked into the scene. Curious, I asked the coworker next to me what was going on. They rolled their eyes so hard I thought they might disappear into their skull. Leaning closer, they whispered, “You’re new, so you don’t know yet, but Sandra loves freeloading. “Anything that’s not hers is fair game, pens, headphones, phones, you name it.” They sighed and continued, “Once she gets her hands on something, it’s as good as gone. This time, she took Laura’s phone. Poor girl just graduated and saved up for months to buy that phone. She guarded it like her life depended on it, but Sandra still found a way to take it. “I guess she has to save some money again to buy a new one.” Looking over at Laura’s desk, I saw her sitting there, her head bowed, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Sandra, oblivious or uncaring, continued watching her show. But the sound of Laura’s sniffles seemed to irritate her. “What are you crying about? If you keep this up, I’ll have the manager fire you!” she snapped. Laura immediately fell silent, her face pale with fear. I frowned, my frustration bubbling. “Is this what the work environment here is like?” I wondered. I was about to say something when my phone buzzed. It was my dad calling. Stepping out to take the call, I returned a few minutes later to find Laura had already left the office.

Afternoon snacks at the office came with a little extra flair: birthday perks. Whenever someone had a birthday, the company would prepare a special gift. Even the afternoon snacks would include an extra slice of cake for the lucky employee. It was my first week on the job, and I received the same treatment. But as I unwrapped the chestnut cake, I couldn’t help frowning at the flavor. A male colleague at the next desk noticed and offered, “Not a fan of chestnut cake? “I’ve got mousse cake. Want to trade?” “Thanks,” I replied with a smile, swapping cakes with him. Before I could take a bite, Sandra’s head popped up from her desk like a prairie dog. “Ugh, juice again? I’m so sick of it,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Her eyes darted to Pablo’s cake. “Oh, Pablo, you’ve got cake! Let me have a bite.” Without waiting for an answer, she reached out, but Pablo swiftly moved the plate out of her reach. Sandra’s hand grabbed at thin air, and her smile froze. “Wow, stingy much? It’s just a bite of cake. Why so selfish?” Someone nearby couldn’t help but tease, “Sandra, don’t act innocent. You’ve been eating Pablo’s cakes for ages. No wonder he doesn’t want to share anymore.” “Me? Please. He only has cake once a year on his birthday! How many chances do I even get to eat it?” Sandra scoffed, trying to sound indignant. “Besides, my family owns this company. What’s the big deal if I take a bite?” “Then why not buy Pablo a big one? We could all share!” someone joked, prompting a ripple of laughter. Sandra’s hand instinctively clutched her pocket. “This is the company’s way of showing care to employees. No need for me to overshadow that.” But her eyes lingered on Pablo’s coffee, and she wasn’t done yet. “Pablo, is that coffee from the hand-brewed shop downstairs? I hate juice. How about we trade?” Pablo didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he picked up the cup and took a deliberate sip right in front of her. Moments later, the supervisor called Pablo over to hand in some documents, and he left his desk. Sandra’s eyes darted around, and when she saw no one was paying attention, she swooped in, grabbing Pablo’s cake and all his birthday gifts. Back at her desk, she devoured the cake in a matter of seconds, washing it down with her juice before leisurely unwrapping the rest of his gifts to “test” them out. When Pablo returned and found his desk empty, he marched straight to Sandra, his face red with anger. “What’s your problem? Why did you take my stuff again?” Sandra didn’t even blink. “Watch your tone. What do you mean, ‘take’? I was just borrowing them.” “Then give them back!” Sandra smirked, tossing some ground coffee into her mug and taking a sip before handing it to him. “Here, your ground coffee.” Pablo’s frustration boiled over. He slapped the mug away, coffee spilling everywhere. “Sandra, can you stop? Can’t you go a day without freeloading?” Sandra’s smile turned icy. “Why are you so uptight? We’re coworkers. What’s the big deal about sharing a bit of coffee?” Her tone grew sharper. “Cheap people like you really are pathetic. This skirt I’m wearing cost 100 grand. Remember to pay for it if you damage it!” “You—” Pablo spluttered, too angry to speak. Sandra cut him off, smirking as she played her favorite card. “Don’t forget, my family owns this company. If I want you gone, it’s just one word from me.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. Everyone has their limits, and Sandra had crossed mine. My gaze flicked to her skirt, and I remarked casually, “Your skirt’s a knockoff.” Sandra’s head snapped toward me. “What did you just say? This is a designer piece I ordered from an overseas boutique!” I pointed to the fabric and stitching. “The material is wrong, the stitching is sloppy, and there are loose threads everywhere. “Are we supposed to believe a 100-thousand-dollar skirt would leave the factory looking like that?” Her voice rose. “What do you know? High fashion is all about craftsmanship. Hand-sewn details are what makes it authentic!” Sandra stormed toward me, tugging on her skirt indignantly. I took a step back and smirked. “Oh, I get it now. You must’ve swiped that skirt from a coworker too.” Sandra’s face turned crimson. “Are you insane? How would I even ‘swipe’ a skirt? Rip it off someone’s body?” “Why not? You’ve stolen phones out of people’s pockets before. This wouldn’t be much of a stretch.” The office erupted in muffled laughter, and Sandra’s blush deepened. Unable to out-argue me, she leaned on her usual defense. “Don’t forget, this company belongs to my family. If I want you fired, no one can stop me.” Ignoring her, I took a deliberate step back, pinched my nose, and said, “Stay away from me. “I’ve got a sensitive nose, and the stench of freeloading reeks of cheapness.” The office exploded with laughter. People doubled over, their chuckles echoing through the room like waves. Sandra stomped back to her desk, clearly rattled. In her haste, she knocked over her juice, spilling it all over her precious skirt. She let out a piercing shriek before darting out of the office, presumably to the dry cleaner. Pablo, barely containing his grin, brought over a small gift as thanks. But Laura approached me cautiously, her brows furrowed with worry. “Hey, Sandra’s so flashy and bossy. What if the company really is her family’s? Aren’t you afraid she’ll have her dad fire you?” I twirled my car keys in my hand, smirking. “Doesn’t matter. My family isn’t exactly struggling either.” Laura’s eyes lit up. “You’re amazing!”

It was the weekend, and coincidentally, my birthday. Hoping to bond more with my coworkers, I invited everyone to celebrate. “I have a friend whose family runs a yacht business. They’re letting me use one for free, so I’m inviting everyone to join me for a party at sea.” “That’s so generous of you! Are you sure? Maybe we can chip in to cover some costs?” My coworkers were kind and considerate, offering to help pay for the event. I smiled and waved them off. “It’s my birthday, and it only happens once a year. Let’s just have fun.” “Just bring yourselves,” I added with a grin. “Then we’ll make sure to prepare a fantastic gift for you!” someone chimed in, and the room burst into excited chatter. I called the yacht crew to request their most luxurious setup. Just as I hung up, Sandra slinked over, her expression eager but calculating. “I’ve never been on a yacht before, Feona,” she said. “Mind if I tag along?” I didn’t bother looking at her, replying bluntly, “I’m inviting friends, not freeloaders who steal from others.” Her face froze, but she quickly forced a smile. “Oh, come on. I’ll get you a big gift. Trust me, it’ll be something really nice,” she promised with exaggerated enthusiasm. Reluctantly, I agreed. Sandra practically skipped away in delight. The moment she was gone, the other coworkers swarmed me. “Why did you invite her? She’s going to ruin everything!” “Yeah, the last time I had a birthday party, she stole my favorite Lego set. I still have no idea how she managed to smuggle something that big out of my house!” “Feona, you’ve got to be careful. Don’t let her ruin your party or get away with anything.” I looked at their worried faces and smiled reassuringly. Deep down, I knew they all feared Sandra’s threat, so they never dared to defy her. “Don’t worry. She won’t get away with anything this time.” I glanced over at Sandra, who was eagerly stuffing plastic bags into her oversized purse, clearly planning to haul away whatever she could. “Not only will she not profit, but I’ll make sure she coughs up everything she’s ever taken from all of you,” I added with a wide grin. If she loved taking advantage, I’d show her what it really meant to pay for her greed.

The yacht was massive, and I suggested everyone start by enjoying the pool while we set up the other activities. My coworkers brought out their carefully prepared gifts: designer bags, headphones, perfume, and other high-end items. Even a few colleagues who had pooled their money managed to bring something thoughtful and elegant. Sandra, of course, showed up empty-handed. When everyone’s eyes turned to her, she crossed her arms, looking unbothered. “What? I brought a gift, but I forgot to bring it with me, that’s all.” “Sure, you did,” someone muttered. “You always say that!” “Sandra, can’t you at least come up with a better excuse?” “You didn’t prepare anything, did you?” Sandra huffed, feigning annoyance. “Fine, if it’s such a big deal, I’ll go back and get it.” She started climbing out of the pool, taking her sweet time and dragging the moment out for nearly ten minutes before I finally stepped in. “Forget it,” I said, shaking my head. “I believe Sandra. She’ll make it up to me later.” Everyone fell silent, though their expressions made it clear they weren’t happy. Out of respect for me, the birthday girl, they let it go. Later, when a staff member brought out an iPad for us to use to order services, it mysteriously disappeared after making its rounds. The staff was frantic, and all eyes turned to Sandra. “It’s her! She must’ve hidden it!” “She’s the only one here who’d pull something like this!” “She even brought her bag to the pool. I bet the iPad’s in there!” Everyone demanded to search Sandra’s bag, but she clutched it tightly to her chest. “Don’t you dare accuse me without proof! I brought my bag because it’s expensive, and I didn’t want anything stolen from it!” she protested, her voice shrill. “And for the record, it’s just an iPad. Like I’d care about something so basic.” Sensing the growing tension, I stepped in again. “Let it go. I’m sure it’s not difficult to find it,” I said, giving a resigned sigh. “If the iPad can’t be found, I’ll cover the cost.” Sandra beamed. “Feona, you’re so generous!” she said, stuffing her face with food from the buffet. She even slyly emptied dishes into the plastic bags she’d brought. When someone called her out, Sandra snapped back. “Aren’t we here to eat? That’s what parties are for! And Feona doesn’t mind, so why are you making a fuss?” She wasn’t content with just the food either. She even swiped game controllers from the lounge. After filling her bags with all kinds of items, she claimed she was feeling unwell and needed to rest. Someone tried to stop her. “Sandra, you promised not to freeload today.” She snapped, “How is this freeloading? Feona spent so much money. I’m just helping her get her money’s worth. “Besides, this is a yacht. How I’m supposed to escape? “Suppose you want my bag, fine. You can have one of them. I need the other to wash up.” Then, she covered her head and ran away. As soon as she disappeared, Pablo opened the bag she’d left behind, only to find used tissues. “That’s it! I knew she’d run!” Pablo exclaimed, his anger boiling over. “She’s stolen so much! Feona, you can’t let her get away with this!” I casually lined up my pool shot, the cue ball cracking sharply against the others as I sunk another ball. “Don’t worry,” I said with a smile. “She’s not going anywhere.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295304”, 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