When my family’s house was sold for redevelopment, we received a windfall of $1.2 million. I planned to use the opportunity to take my parents on a road trip, but my girlfriend stopped me. “I need $300,000 for a wedding settlement, $600,000 for a house for my brother, and $50,000 for a new car for my parents,” she demanded. “Whatever’s left, we’ll split it after the wedding.” I laughed, packed up, and took my parents on that road trip anyway. Along the way, I found a girlfriend with actual values. Content When our old family home in Hickory Ridge, North Carolina, was sold, we didn’t just receive a couple of new properties in exchange—we also got a windfall of $1.2 million. My parents, ever practical, decided to transfer half of the money—$600,000—into my account. “You’re working now, Colton,” Mom said calmly. It’s time for you to learn how to manage money. Don’t waste it on anything stupid like gambling or drugs; the rest is up to you.” I practically jumped for joy, hugging my mom and peppering her with kisses. “You guys are the best parents ever! Don’t worry, I’ll use it wisely. No reckless spending, I promise!” With newfound excitement, I called my girlfriend, Amber Winslow, and treated her to dinner and a movie. On a whim, I even bought her that high-end designer bag she’d been eyeing for months. Amber’s eyes sparkled with delight. “What’s the occasion? It’s not my birthday, and it’s not a holiday. Why are you suddenly showering me with such an expensive gift?” Unable to contain myself, I showed her the bank notification of the transfer. “My parents gave me a huge chunk of money from selling our old house. I’ve officially upgraded from middle-class Colton to the future heir of the Hayes estate!” Amber took my phone and stared at the zeros in my account, counting them repeatedly, her face frozen in shock. Although my family has always been financially stable, I never had this money. It was overwhelming but in a good way. I was too wrapped up in the joy to notice Amber’s expression subtly shift. “I’m thinking of buying a luxury RV,” I said, grinning. “I’d love to take my parents on a road trip across the country. They’ve worked hard all their lives; it’s time to treat them to some well-deserved relaxation.” Amber’s cheerful mood seemed to falter. “An RV? A road trip? That must cost a fortune.” “Not really,” I replied after thinking for a moment. “A decent one will probably set me back about $80,000.” “Eighty thousand dollars?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. Her reaction puzzled me. Sensing my confusion, Amber forced a smile. “Babe, maybe skip the RV. Your parents could join a local tour group for a few days instead. Why spend so much?” She linked her arm with mine, her tone turning sweet. “Think about it. An RV is so expensive, and it’s not like you’ll use it year-round. Most of the time, it’ll just sit in the driveway collecting dust. Wouldn’t it make more sense to give me that money instead?” Her reasoning started to put me on edge, but I calmed myself down, assuming she was worried about wedding expenses. “Amber,” I said, “my parents already set aside money for our house and the wedding long ago. This windfall has nothing to do with those plans.” Amber huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not just about me. My brother Lance is getting engaged soon, and his fiancée is demanding a $140,000 engagement settlement plus a house in Washington, D.C.’s top school district.” “You know my family can’t afford that, but with this money, you could help. Just $200,000 for the settlement and the house, another $50,000 for a car for my parents, and you can let me manage the rest. I’ll be handling our finances after the wedding anyway.” Amber added in a muttered tone, “And my parents have never been on vacation either. How about you take them along, too?” Her words carried an unspoken assumption—that the money was hers to claim. I stared at Amber’s expectant face and remained silent. I wasn’t the type to judge someone based on material needs. I wouldn’t have stayed with Amber all these years if I had. We’d been together since high school. Back then, she was the smart girl in our class, and our teacher assigned us seats together so she could help me with my grades. Her patience and gentle smile had left a lasting impression. Amber’s family wasn’t well-off—I knew that. I’d even paid her college tuition and living expenses for four years because her parents couldn’t afford it. Without my help, she likely would’ve been forced into an early marriage with some middle-aged bachelor in exchange for a meager settlement to support her brother, Lance. I even accompanied her to legally change her name from “Sherry Winslow” to something less old-fashioned. Over the years, I never let her spend a dime when we were together. Every date, every outing—it was always on me. And while I indulged her, she grew accustomed to being pampered. When Amber graduated, I persuaded my parents to help her get a job she’d never qualified for. But now, looking back at it all, I wondered if I’d gone too far. Gently withdrawing my arm from hers, I said in an amused tone, “Amber, your brother getting married isn’t my responsibility. Why should I buy him a house?” Her expression darkened. “Colton, are you stupid? My brother will be your brother once we’re married. I’ll quit my job, stay home, cook for you, clean for you, give you a big family, and spend the rest of my life paying you back. How’s that for a deal?” What a calculation. I’d give her family everything, and she’d repay me with her “loyalty.” When I didn’t respond, her patience snapped. Her voice softened again as if coaxing me. “Babe, if you love me, you’ll love my family too. I’ll always be a good wife and mother; when my family’s doing well, it reflects well on me. Isn’t that important?” Her demands were absurd. I didn’t care what she said. “I’m not giving you the money,” I stated firmly. Amber exploded. “Colton Hayes, don’t push me! Are you seriously refusing to buy my brother a house? After everything I’ve done for you, my years with you mean nothing? Now that you’ve got money, you’re just dumping me?” The argument escalated in the middle of the mall, drawing stares from passersby. I hated causing a scene. I tried to lead her somewhere private to talk, but she yanked her arm away and angrily threw her new designer bag on the floor. Picking it up, I said, “If you don’t want it, I’ll give it to my mom. She’ll appreciate it more.” Without a backward glance, I walked away. Amber’s shouts followed me, accusing me of ingratitude. “You’ll regret this, Colton! After everything I sacrificed for you, you owe me!” But I didn’t look back.

Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. The thrill of newfound wealth had evaporated entirely. I reflected on my years with Amber. When it wasn’t about her family, she was the perfect girlfriend—kind, attentive, and warm. She was everything I’d ever wanted. But her obsession with her parents and brother, her greed, and her entitlement—it was too much. Later that night, she texted me, asking if I was still angry. Seeing her familiar profile picture, I hesitated. For a moment, it felt like the Amber I loved was back. After typing and deleting several replies, I finally settled on two words: “Not angry.” Amber sent a picture of a dish she’d just learned to cook. “Practice makes perfect. I’ll make it for you soon,” she wrote cheerfully, as though our earlier argument hadn’t happened. Maybe she’d realized her mistake. I decided to test her. I sent her photos of two luxury RVs. “Which one do you think I should buy?” I asked. Minutes later, Amber replied with a string of ellipses. I followed up, “I’m leaning toward the first one. It’s spacious, fuel-efficient, and stylish. Perfect for road trips.” Barely two seconds after I sent the text, my phone rang. As soon as I picked up, Amber’s furious voice erupted. “Are you deaf? Didn’t I tell you not to waste money on an RV? Your parents don’t deserve it! And how dare you make decisions without consulting me? That money is ours for our future, and you’re being selfish!” I didn’t let her finish. “Let me remind you, Amber, we’re not married yet. That money isn’t ‘ours.’ It’s mine. And I don’t owe your family anything. If they want a house or a car, they can buy it themselves.” Amber hung up on me mid-sentence. When I tried calling back, I realized she’d blocked me. She always did this after arguments—blocking me on everything until I showed up with gifts and apologies. This time, I decided to let it be.

Early in the morning, I brush my teeth, prepare, and sit at the table for breakfast. I couldn’t help but notice something was off with Mom. She kept her head down, barely looked at me, and said nothing. Her demeanor felt unusually downcast. “Mom, what’s wrong? Your eyes are red. Did Dad do something to upset you?” I asked, concerned. Forcing a smile, she quickly wiped her eyes. “No, sweetie. It’s nothing. I just got a little something in my eye while cooking.” I glanced at the table. Breakfast was takeout from a diner—scrambled eggs, hash browns, and sausage biscuits—and there was no sign of cooking anywhere. I shifted my gaze to Dad, who sighed and handed me Mom’s phone. “Take a look,” he said quietly. It was a text from Amber Winslow sent late last night. The message was blunt, almost hostile: She demanded that I use the family money on her family—her brother, her parents, and their needs—or else she wouldn’t “respect” my parents after marriage. The words stung with entitlement and disdain. My parents had never approved of Amber. They warned me about her initially, but because they loved me and respected my choices, they eventually stopped voicing their concerns. Over the years, Amber never visited them or even sent a holiday card. And now, this was the first time she’d reached out—just to make such an offensive demand. Mom spoke softly, “Colton, as long as you’re happy, your dad and I don’t mind. You decide to make.” I stared at my parents. Their once-dark hair now had streaks of gray, and the lines on their faces seemed more profound than I remembered. We’d always been a tight-knit family, yet here we were, fractured by Amber’s selfishness. My parents had sacrificed so much to make my life easier. How could I let them suffer the indignity of being mistreated by her and her family? Amber’s audacity before marriage was already unbearable. If we tied the knot, her family would surely drain us dry. “Delete the message,” I told my mom. “Block her number. You don’t need to deal with this nonsense.” Mom hesitated for a moment but nodded. She trusted me to handle it. A few days later, Amber finally cracked. Unblocking me, she said, “Have you realized your mistake these past few days?”

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After days of silence, Landon Drake suddenly invited me to our Hidden Creek Hideout on our ninth anniversary. When I arrived, rose petals fluttered like snow, and 999 heartfelt letters descended from above. Overwhelmed with joy, I opened one of the letters, only to see the words: “To my dearest love, Talia.” Before I could ask Landon what was going on, I saw Talia Monroe’s Instagram Story: “When the right person loves you, you shine bright! P.S.: Sorry, old lady, for stealing your surprise, but my darling’s love is untouchable!” Is the picture attached? A deed for a house—my wedding house. Stunned, I barely registered Landon storming in, only to launch into a tirade. “She’s just a kid who wanted some romance! Do you have to be so jealous?” Calmly, I tossed the letters and the house keys into his hands. “Well then, congratulations on your wedding. Enjoy.” Content Landon’s grip faltered, and the letters and keys clattered. The sound of the fake keys hitting the ground felt like a dagger to my chest. Fake. Even the keys were fake. A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but it quickly morphed into righteous indignation. “Maisie, how old are you? And you’re still fighting over stuff meant for a kid? You’ve let me down.” A kid? If I remember correctly, Talia Monroe is two years older than me. It turns out that when loved enough, someone can be pampered like children, no matter their age. I found it laughable and didn’t bother responding. Turning on my heel, I walked away. As I left, memories of the past nine years flooded my mind. We have met in college and have been together since. There have been no dramatic highs or soul-crushing lows, just steady, quiet happiness. Friends often told me to hold on tight to Landon. “He might be a bit old-fashioned, but he’s a good man—faithful and thoughtful in the little things.” And I believed it. His lack of romantic gestures was just part of his personality. Now I realize it wasn’t a matter of personality. I simply wasn’t worth the effort. I called and canceled everything for the wedding. Afterward, I went to Brewer’s Haven Café. I ordered a coffee and a slice of cake. The sweet cream melted on my tongue, a taste I hadn’t indulged in for years. It made my chest ache, and tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. This was my favorite cake. I stopped eating it because Landon said I was getting fat, like a pig. I’ve shortchanged myself so much for so long. I’d barely taken a second bite when Landon called. “Did you just use my Couples Pay account?” I froze, checked my phone, and realized I had accidentally used $58 from his account while paying. I remembered begging him to set up that account with me. The limit was only $100, but I had clung to it, desperate for proof of his love. “Sorry,” I said softly, transferring the money back immediately before unlinking myself from the account. There was a pause. “It’s not about the money,” he said finally. “I’m just trying to teach you to be more independent. Women who rely on men aren’t attractive.” I said nothing. Sensing the awkwardness, he switched topics. “The hotel just called. Did you cancel the wedding banquet?” “Yes.” I took another bite of cake. “Good call,” he said, a rare note of approval in his voice. “Life’s about sincerity, not these meaningless formalities. I’m glad you’re starting to understand.” His shamelessness no longer surprised me. Before I could respond, a message from Talia Monroe popped up on my phone. Landon had taken her for a bridal photo shoot to make up for the surprise he’d promised her. The attached picture showed them holding hands, laughing blissfully. It’s amazing how he found the time to scold me about $58 while doting on her. I let out a bitter laugh. “Landon Drake,” I said aloud, “I thought you’d gotten the message. But since you didn’t, let me clarify. We’re done. Do you understand now?”

I hung up before he could respond. Sipping my coffee, I allowed myself to enjoy a rare moment of peace. I’d expected heartbreak, but what I felt instead was calm—a quiet acceptance of the end of our nine years together. Letting go, for the first time, felt liberating. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Landon. His parents. My dad. My stepmother. I silenced everything, turned off my phone, and enjoyed the silence for the first time in years. That night, I returned home, only for Landon to arrive shortly after. He held a takeout box with half-eaten steak inside. “I brought you some steak,” he announced, placing it on the table. It was leftover from Talia Monroe. I’d seen her Instagram Story: A luxury restaurant where a meal costs at least ten grand. She’d written: “Couldn’t finish it, so might as well feed the stray dogs!” And I was the stray dog. The cold, greasy meat made my stomach churn. The stench of leftover sauce hit my nose, and I couldn’t hold it in—I ran to the sink and retched. “Take it away!” Landon frowned. Only when he saw me vomiting did he finally remove it. “You’re so dramatic.” “Maisie, money doesn’t grow on trees. You’ll need to learn to be frugal when we’re married, right?” I rinsed my mouth and wiped my face. “Be frugal? So you and Talia can enjoy the savings?” His face darkened. Sensing the change, he hesitated before pulling a gift box from behind his back and tossing it toward me. The unsealed box tumbled open, revealing a white lace veil. It was stained. “Talia has great taste. She picked this for you. Consider it my gift—no need for you to pay me back.” He stepped forward, intending to place it on my head, but I stepped back, eyes burning. Landon Drake had never once treated me like a person. “Keep it,” I said, my voice steady. “You’ll need it.” Turning, I headed to the bedroom to pack my things. Before I could close the door, he grabbed my arm with bruising force. I cried out as blood seeped from an old wound on my arm—a knife wound from two weeks ago when I’d shielded him in a fight. The pain was sharp, but his words had cut deeper that day. “Talia was scared,” he had said. “Go to the hospital yourself. I’ll cover half the bill.” Tonight, his eyes showed a fleeting trace of guilt before his phone buzzed, and he hurriedly left the room. Minutes later, Talia’s message lit up my phone: “Can’t sleep. My darling came to tuck me in.” I replied coldly: “Take him. A bitch and her dog—may you last forever.”

After finishing packing, I called Cassidy Bloom. “Maisie, happy birthday! Did you get the gift I sent you?” Cassidy’s cheerful voice bubbled through the phone. Hearing her, my nose stung, and moments later, tears streamed down my face. It was my birthday. Even I had almost forgotten. “What’s wrong, Maisie?” Cassidy’s tone grew concerned, picking up on my sniffles. “I’m just touched. Thank you, Cassidy,” I replied softly. “I want to come to you as soon as I can. Can we finalize the paperwork quickly? Everything else is already sorted, and I don’t need to be there for the rest.” Cassidy’s company had been shifting its operations abroad. Half a month ago, I’d agreed to work overseas with her. I had planned to tell Landon, but after getting hurt, I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to him. Even this morning, at Hidden Creek Hideout, I hesitated. Maybe I shouldn’t go. Perhaps he does love me. Looking back, I realize I was deluding myself. Cassidy paused on the other end of the line but didn’t press me. “I’ll get everything ready,” she said decisively. After hanging up, I hired movers to clear out everything I had decorated in the house. It was laughable. Landon had always insisted on splitting everything equally, yet he constantly implied I was freeloading. The truth? I had paid for most of it. I worked late into the night, finishing just after 2 a.m. As the movers left, Cassidy called to confirm my flight. Three days. Standing in the now-empty room, I exhaled deeply, feeling an unexpected weight lift. Then my phone buzzed. Landon. “Talia’s stomach is upset. That soup you make is great for that—could you cook some and bring it over?” “Don’t overthink it. I just saw her as a kid. Spend more time with her—you’ll see. Wouldn’t having a kid as pretty as her someday be great?” “I wouldn’t mind if you had one with her,” I said flatly. There was a long silence on the other end. Landon seemed at a loss for words, perhaps even preparing to yell at me, but restrained himself, likely thinking of Talia. “Don’t be like this, Maisie. If I did have one with her, you’d probably cry your eyes out,” he said with a sigh. “I just want you to be kinder.” I ended the call without another word, knowing he fully expected me to attend. But I didn’t. Instead, I slept soundly for the first time in weeks. The following day, I drove to Silverstone, Indiana—back to my hometown. I bought my mom’s favorite bouquet of lilies and placed them at her grave. “Mom,” I whispered, gently tracing her photo. I hadn’t planned to cry, but the moment I saw her face, the tears came unbidden. “I might not be coming back. Maybe not ever.” My voice cracked. “Forgive me, Mom.” The words had barely left my lips when a sharp pain jolted through my scalp. I was yanked backward and slammed to the ground. It was Laura Braxton. SLAP. She struck me hard across the face. “Don’t mess with me! I’ve already taken Landon’s dowry. If it gets taken back, I’ll kill you!” Clutching my stinging cheek, I stood and grabbed a handful of her hair in return. Before I could retaliate further, Frank Bellamy stormed over and slapped me across the face again. “You ungrateful little brat!” he roared. “Listen to your mother—she only wants what’s best for you.” I stared at their twisted faces, and in a haze, I saw Landon standing in the distance. He was watching, smirking at my misery. I heard his voice, calm and cruel. “Maisie Bellamy, no one else will ever want you.”

I fixed my gaze on Landon, my mind swirling with disbelief. “What’s with that look?” he snapped. “Maisie, you’re almost thirty and still act so immature.” “Do you know what your stepmother said to me?” he continued. “She said if you don’t marry me, she’ll marry you off to Kendrick. Do you remember when he forced himself on you while your dad just stood there? That desperation you felt?” “Maisie, don’t forget—it wasn’t me begging to marry you. It was you chasing after me.” He smirked, his eyes glinting with mockery. His words cut deep, but I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. I had once called him my knight in shining armor. Someone who had swooped in, dazzling and brave, to rescue me from the darkness. But that same knight had returned, not to save me, but to join my tormentors. The irony was almost too much. But Landon seemed to have forgotten one thing. Before I met him, I had been perfectly capable of defending myself—fighting back against those who tried to hurt me. Right then, his phone rang, and Talia Monroe’s voice came through, high-pitched and demanding. “Baby, you promised to bring her here to apologize. Everyone’s waiting! Don’t disappoint me, or I’ll be mad at you!” Landon lowered his voice, soothing her before hanging up and turning to me. “She’s sensitive about appearances,” he explained. “You upset her stomach yesterday. All I’m asking is for you to apologize and smooth things over. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” So this wasn’t even about me. It was about salvaging her pride. I’d always known my place in his life, but after nine years, the pain still hit with surprising force. He dragged me to the car before I could protest and drove me to the restaurant. All eyes turned to me inside the private suite, their gazes filled with amusement. “Well, it looks like Maisie decided to skip makeup today. Did she slap herself for some color?” Talia sneered, sending the room into laughter. Landon’s grip on my arm tightened, but I didn’t fight it. I let him lead me to a seat on the sofa. I glanced at Talia, my tone calm and detached. “I’m 28. You’re 30, aren’t you? Talia, the crow’s feet are already showing. Stop pretending to be younger than you are—you’re fooling no one.” Her face blanched, and tears welled in her eyes. She turned to Landon, clutching his arm dramatically. “See? This is what you call an apology? She’s doing this on purpose to humiliate me!” “Maisie, apologize!” Landon barked, his tone icy. I stayed silent. Sighing, he turned to Talia with exaggerated gentleness. “Baby, don’t cry. It’s my fault, okay? Punish me however you like.” “Really?” she sniffled, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. “You said Maisie’s hair always clogs the floor and drives you crazy. Why not shave it off for her?”

When Kendrick Braxton tried to force himself on me, I made a massive scene. Laura Braxton’s carefully curated image as the “sweet, caring stepmom” crumbled in front of everyone. Furious, she accused me of seducing her son. She then had my father tie me up like an animal and shave my hair off with scissors. She even scraped off my eyebrows. If my screams hadn’t drawn the neighbors’ attention, she might have gone through with her threat to carve words into my face. From then on, every strand of hair that fell to the floor earned me another beating. I spent years with a cropped head, my humiliation on full display. People looked down on me. Ridiculed me. When I shared this with Landon Drake, I had hoped for sympathy, but he turned my suffering into a joke for Talia Monroe’s amusement. Nine years. I thought he might hesitate. But he immediately called for scissors when he realized shaving my head would make Talia happy. Instinctively, I moved toward the door, but his friends blocked my path. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “Maisie, you upset the little princess. You deserve to be punished.” Landon walked toward me, calm and unbothered. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back. But making her smile? That’s priceless.” At his signal, his friends pinned me down. I thrashed and struggled as Talia gleefully approached, her eyes glinting triumphantly. My anger boiled over, and as I flailed, my nail accidentally grazed her arm. It didn’t even leave a mark. But that tiny scratch was enough to send Landon into a rage. He stormed over and kicked me in the stomach so hard I flew into the door. Pain erupted through my abdomen, a sharp, unbearable cramp spreading. I felt something warm and wet pooling beneath me. At that moment, I knew. Grabbing Landon’s arm, I begged him through tears, “Please, save our baby.” But he didn’t care. He stayed focused on Talia, holding her hand while cutting my hair. The blades scraped against my scalp, the pain excruciating. Warm blood trickled down my face, mixing with my tears. A gasp broke through the laughter. “Blood! She’s bleeding!” Landon didn’t even glance back. “It’s just a scratch. Patch it up later.” “No, Landon—look at the floor! There’s so much blood!” His tone faltered as he finally turned around. The sight of the blood pooling beneath me made him freeze. “Maisie…” I lifted my tear-streaked face to look at him, blood and sorrow blurring my vision. “Congratulations, Landon Drake.” “You’ve just killed your child.”

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As the real daughter of the Sterling family, I was brought back home and joined a reality dating show with my fake sister. Faced with insults from the backstabbing Mia Harper, the tantrums of a self-absorbed male idol, and the show director’s manipulative antics, I smirked and said, “Breast implants, a visit to Greenfield Wellness Clinic, and a million-dollar RV for your mistress? Ring any bells?” The group froze, clutching their chests, reeling with shock as they scrambled to figure out who had betrayed their secrets. I only smiled enigmatically. What can I say? My strange ability to see people’s purchase histories has its perks. Content My biological parents found me when I was hauling bricks at Steelworks Warehouse. Years ago, Victoria Sterling gave birth to me at a small-town hospital, but due to a nurse’s negligence, I was switched at birth. But now, they’d found me. Ah, the Sterling family—a true embodiment of wealth. Sterling Manor looked straight out of a novel, with its fountains and sprawling lawns. The moment I sat in the luxurious living room, a severe-looking woman stormed in. “This sofa was shipped from Europe last week! Miss Claire adores it! Who let this stray into dirtying the fabric? Get up immediately!” She yanked my arm so hard I stumbled to my feet. Before I could steady myself, another woman with an elegant aura rushed in. Her eyes turned red when she saw me, and she embraced me. “My child! You’ve suffered all these years!” I rubbed my nose awkwardly. “Not that much…” Moments later, the doors burst again, admitting a stern middle-aged man and a delicate girl who looked like a gentle lily. The three of them stared at me nervously. Victoria pulled Eva forward and hesitated. “What if we kept Evangeline here to keep you company? So you wouldn’t feel lonely…” Of course, they wanted to keep Eva. It wasn’t a surprise. One was the fake daughter they’d raised for years; the other was me, the real daughter they barely knew. I didn’t care much, so I replied breezily, “Sure. Dad, Mom, Sis.” Their faces lit up with joy. Eva beamed and stood behind me, pleased to be my new shadow. “By the way, who’s this?” My gaze fell on the severe woman from earlier. Her haughty demeanor melted into an overly sweet smile. “Miss Sterling, I’m the housekeeper. Mrs. Zhao…” “Housekeeper?” I looped my arm around Victoria’s. “Mom, the housekeeper wouldn’t happen to be the one selling eight-figure jewelry, would she?” Mrs. Zhao’s face twitched. “Mom, I ran into her at a consignment shop recently. She was selling a diamond necklace there.” Victoria froze and glanced at Mrs. Zhao with suspicion. Mrs. Zhao’s expression turned panicked as she began sweating profusely. “Miss Sterling, I… I’ve never been to any consignment shop!” Maybe her selling items at consignment stores was a lie, but stealing Sterling’s family jewelry and selling it? That was undoubtedly true. Ever since I woke up, I’ve had a strange ability: I can see the details of everyone’s purchase history. Mrs. Zhao has been stealing from my mother for years! “Fine. To prove I’m not slandering you, Mom, have someone check your jewelry collection.” I described the necklace in question. Mrs. Zhao paled. “Why would you investigate me? I didn’t steal anything!” A guilty confession. Victoria immediately ordered someone to inspect the jewelry. Mrs. Zhao collapsed to the floor, trembling. Eva shuffled closer to me and tugged on my sleeve. “Sister, you’re… amazing!” Her face was glowing with admiration. Me:? That’s all it took to win her over? Her soft, innocent demeanor… no wonder she was written as the pitiful supporting character who could never escape the protagonist’s oppression.

Yes, I, the honest Naomi Sterling, and Eva, the fake Evangeline Claire, are not even the main characters in this world. The true protagonist is Mia Harper, a rising star who clawed her way up the entertainment industry by destroying Eva’s reputation. Mia’s career began with her branding as a “Mini Eva,” using Eva’s long-established popularity while secretly undermining her. They both signed onto Love Among the Stars, a reality dating show. During filming, a scandal broke out, accusing Eva of assaulting a pregnant woman. Her reputation tanked overnight. Meanwhile, Mia was hailed as a kind-hearted beauty, her fame skyrocketing in contrast to Eva’s downfall. Sure, if the story were told from Mia’s perspective, it’d be entertaining. But in this world, I’m Naomi, Eva’s big sister. And I know exactly what Mia is up to. That “pregnant woman”? A fake hired to ruin Eva. Even if Eva is only my “convenient” sister, she’s still a Sterling. I won’t let anyone bully her. Eva is sweet and pretty, going out of her way to subtly please me. Honestly, with her lovely face that fits perfectly into my aesthetic preferences, I can’t stand seeing her reputation torn apart. So, when Alexander Sterling asked me if I wanted to take over Sterling Enterprises, I eyed Eva holding the Love Among the Stars invitation and said I wanted to join the show with her. Eva’s eyes lit up. “Dad, please!” She turned on her pleading charm. “If I join the show with Sister, you’ll feel much more at ease, right?” I privately discussed some of my business ventures with my dad, even sharing my private investment fund. Alexander was thrilled, handed over the company’s future to me, and approved Eva and me joining the show.

The show began with a live stream introduction at Sunset Hill Villa; all participants were present. I discreetly checked my phone, where the live stream chat buzzed with attacks on Eva. “Why the hell did the producers invite someone like Evangeline Claire? She’s so fake and manipulative. She doesn’t belong on this show with our Mia!” “Ugh, she’s here to leech off Mia Harper’s fame. Can she stand on her own for once?” “Exactly! Diva’s behavior and zero charm, yet she dares to show up here? Get off the show!” Mia Harper, ever the star of the narrative, made her entrance and caused a wave of excited reactions. “OMG! My queen Mia is so gorgeous!” “Mia Harper is literal perfection—angelic face, killer body!” “Prprprprprprpr” (Yes, the fans were practically drooling.) The opening introductions went smoothly enough. Everyone was civil—on the surface. Then came the mutual Q&A segment, where Mia wasted no time targeting Eva. Feigning casual concern, she smiled sweetly and asked, “Eva, have you been watching any good TV shows lately? I heard you’ve been taking much time off at home.” Oh, a subtle jab at Eva’s struggles to find work. Classic. Eva’s expression stiffened, and she was about to respond when I placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “Eva? Watching TV? Hardly. She’s been too busy accompanying my mom to Serenity Spa, going on vacations, and attending auctions. Who has time for brainless soap operas?” I quipped with a raised eyebrow. Mia blinked, clearly caught off guard, but quickly recovered. Her smile tightened as she asked, “That’s nice. Did Eva pick up anything interesting at the auction? Maybe she could share with us?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I just hope you didn’t accidentally buy a fake. You know how it is—things, like people, can be fake or real. Only fools can’t tell the difference.” The jab was razor-sharp, with an unmistakable implication.

Mia Harper knew something—perhaps about Eva and me not being faithful Sterlings. But how? My parents hadn’t made any public announcements about Eva’s origins. How did Mia find out? I scrutinized Mia from head to toe. She remained composed, even throwing me a sly, knowing smile. Next to me, Eva clung to my arm, whispering nervously, “Sister, what do we do? Do you think she knows?” I gave her hand a reassuring pat. “Stay calm,” I whispered back. Eva immediately straightened up, puffing out her chest with newfound courage. Her wide, trusting eyes were fixed on me. I turned to Mia with a smile that could cut glass. “Not as much as you, Ms. Harper. Though I must say, the Magne-Tec seems pretty convincing.” “Sometimes what’s fake can look real, you know—depends on how much effort you put into selling it,” I added, pausing deliberately. “Take Eva, for example… or, say, your chest.” For a moment, the live chat fell into stunned silence. “What is she talking about? I feel like she just said something I can’t quite grasp…” “What’s Magne-Tec? Why does Mia look a little pale?” “Cough, cough. If I’m not mistaken, Magne-Tec is… a breast implant brand.” “OMG? Isn’t Mia endorsing some ‘natural enhancement’ cream? So it’s all just technology and a good surgeon?” Mia choked on her water, coughing violently. One of the male idols, Ryan Vega, hurried over to pat her back with excessive eagerness. “Mia, are you okay?” His hands hovered awkwardly near his chest as though he was afraid to touch her. Meanwhile, Daniel Cole, the award-winning actor, looked utterly lost, his confusion painted across his face. Dominic Hayes, the band’s lead singer, raised a brow and shot a knowing glance at Mia’s… enhancements. Still coughing, Mia clutched her chest, her eyes betraying panic and uncertainty. She straightened up and attempted to maintain her composure. “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, Naomi,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “It feels like you’re holding a grudge against me.” She blinked back tears dramatically, her voice softening to an almost sad tone. “If I’ve done anything to make you misunderstand me, I deeply apologize. But I hope you won’t accuse me of something baseless. That’s just unfair.” Ah, there it was—the move to redirect public sympathy and unleash her rabid fanbase against me. I chuckled lightly, crossing my arms. “Ms. Harper, didn’t you start discussing fake versus real? Maybe you should explain to your fans whether your Magne-Tec is the real deal.” Mia’s face turned several shades paler as the chat erupted once again.

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I was preparing to take my girlfriend to Alaska to see the Northern Lights when I found photos of her lying naked with her male best friend in my drawer. Along with the photos were a bunch of lab reports checking male fertility. The date on the reports was the same day I had my stomach cancer surgery. So when she said she was busy, she was actually busy testing her male best friend’s fertility. When I confronted her about it, she lashed out at me impatiently. “We were just lying together, nothing happened.” “This was purely medical treatment. Can’t you stop being so dirty-minded?” Looking at the explicit video that came through on my phone, my heart sank into dead silence. After a long pause, I called my parents. “Mom, Dad, I agree to come back and inherit the family business.” After I hung up the phone, there was a violent knocking at the door. The door shook with the urgent, grating knocks. Whoever was outside was clearly furious. “Nash, open the door!” It was my girlfriend Nadia’s voice. In the past, I would have rushed to open the door for her, helped her change into slippers, and welcomed her home. I always felt bad about how hard she worked managing the company and wanted to do whatever I could to take care of her and ease her worries. But today, I just sat there, my expression blank. Seeing no one was opening the door, Nadia had someone break it down. The first thing she did when she came in was rush to my side and slap me hard across the face. “Why did you attack Kieran?” “You know his health is poor. Why would you hurt him?” Looking at Nadia’s near-crazed expression, my heart clenched painfully. Today I had bought plane tickets, planning to come home and pack our bags to take her to see the Northern Lights in Alaska. I wanted to surprise her. Instead, I found those “treatment” photos of her and Kieran in the drawer. When I went to confront Kieran, I was beaten up by him and his friends. Now somehow I was the one who had attacked him. “Say something. Cat got your tongue?” Nadia’s pupils were bloodshot, her eyes looking like they wanted to kill me. “You dare to do it but not admit it? Some man you are.” I lowered my head with a self-mocking smile, no longer having the energy to argue with her. I just tossed the photos at her feet. “What is this?” When she saw the photos, a flash of guilt crossed Nadia’s eyes. Her hands involuntarily clenched, and she spoke with less confidence. “It’s not what you think.” “Kieran was diagnosed with fertility issues and might not be able to have children. I was just helping the doctor treat him.” What kind of medical treatment requires lying naked in bed with a woman? Such a ridiculous excuse, yet she believed it. I just found it laughable. But Nadia kept talking, becoming more convinced she was right. “That’s right, this was purely medical treatment. Kieran and I are completely innocent, heaven knows.” “How can your mind be so dirty? You really disgust me.” I looked at her, shocked and grieved. What was I still hoping for? I should have understood long ago, when she kept abandoning me for Kieran time after time, shouldn’t I? Nadia and I were college classmates. We went from campus sweethearts to where we are now, the model couple in everyone’s eyes. For her sake, I fought with my parents and stayed in this city. When she wanted to start a company, I emptied my pockets and worked hard with her to build the business from scratch. When she saw me vomiting uncontrollably after drinking too much at business dinners, she would hold me preciously, tears welling up in her eyes out of distress. “Nash, you’ve worked so hard. When we make it big, I’ll never let you push yourself like this again,” she would gently comfort me, wiping the sweat from my brow. “Then we’ll get married, have the wedding at the best hotel, the most luxurious ceremony.” “I’ll make everyone envy you.” Those words still rang in my ears, but the person before me was no longer the same. When she looked at me now, there was only disgust in her eyes. “I’ve already explained everything clearly. Stop being difficult,” Nadia said impatiently, reaching out to pull me. “No matter what, you were wrong to hit someone. Come with me now to apologize to Kieran.” Before I could break free, her phone rang. After answering, her expression instantly changed. She shot me a vicious glare. “Kieran is still coughing up blood from your beating. You’d better pray he’s okay, or I won’t let you off easy!” After Nadia left, I stared at the door that could no longer be closed and thought for an entire night. As dawn approached, I finally went inside to pack my bags. Something already broken can never be restored to its original state, no matter how much you try to fix it. I had always thought about what I could do to keep her, but I forgot that someone who doesn’t love you won’t stay no matter what. Taking one last look at the room I had lived in for years, no matter how reluctant and nostalgic I felt, I had to let go. It no longer belonged to me. Voices of laughter came from outside. When I opened the bedroom door, I was stunned by the scene before me. Nadia was helping Kieran sit down, her face full of concern and distress. But the moment she looked up and saw me, her expression instantly turned cold. “You slept well, didn’t you?” “Kieran couldn’t sleep all night because of you. I was so worried I didn’t sleep either. How dare you sleep?” Kieran patted her back soothingly. The atmosphere between them was so intimate, it seemed no third person could intrude. It made me, the real boyfriend, feel like the shameful mistress. My heart trembled with pain, and even my newly operated stomach began to ache faintly. Kieran took Nadia’s hand, smiling magnanimously. “Nadia, don’t blame Nash. He only hit me because he loves you too much.” Before I could say anything, Nadia couldn’t sit still. “You don’t need to speak up for him. I know him too well. He’s just a born bad seed, jealous and selfish, who can’t stand seeing me be good to anyone else.” Nadia completely ignored the pain in my eyes and continued righteously: “Kieran is in this state because of you. I brought him home to help you atone for your sins.” Saying this, her expression turned haughty, speaking as if granting me a favor. “These next few days, you’ll personally take care of Kieran. Once he recovers, I might forgive you.” “If you don’t agree, hmph, we’ll break up.” Her arrogant demeanor suggested she was certain I would give in. In the past, I would have already lowered myself to appease her. Because I loved her and couldn’t bear to see her suffer even a little bit of grievance. But all of my compromises and concessions had become leverage for her to manipulate me in her eyes. “Fine, then let’s break up.” Time seemed to freeze. Nadia’s smug expression instantly cracked, her whole being filled with disbelief. It took her a long time to react, pointing at me with trembling fingers. “What did you say?” Over the years, we had our quarrels and conflicts, but as long as she mentioned breaking up, no matter how angry I was, I would immediately calm down and beg her not to leave me. But today, this usually foolproof tactic wasn’t working. Nadia felt like she was losing control of something. Her eyes trembled fiercely. No longer wanting to argue with her, I picked up my suitcase and strode out. In the room, Nadia stood frozen. When she came to her senses and wanted to chase after me, Kieran stopped her. “You don’t need to go after him. He’ll naturally come back in a few days.” “He’s just doing this on purpose to get your attention. I’m a man too, I understand.” Seeing her still wavering, Kieran immediately put on a pitiful expression. “I’m still feeling unwell. Can you stay and keep me company?” With those words, he successfully kept Nadia from leaving. I went to the company dormitory, planning to go home after resigning. The company I’m currently working at is Nadia’s. All these years, I’ve worked myself to the bone to bring in business and secure investments for the company, striving tirelessly to realize her dreams. I thought that once her career was more established, we could go home together. Then my parents wouldn’t object to us being together anymore. Now it seems there’s no need for that anymore. I called my mother. Before I could speak, tears welled up in my eyes. Mom didn’t ask anything, just sighed. “My dear boy, you’ve suffered out there.” Like a child who had endured too much hardship finally returning to his mother’s embrace, I broke down sobbing. After I calmed down, I said softly, “Mom, I broke up.” She seemed to have guessed it already, her tone very calm. “If you’re tired, just come home. We’ll always be waiting for you.” Dad jumped up angrily when he heard the news, but was calmed down by Mom. “You calm down. I won’t let anyone who dares bully my son off easy.” My mind felt emptied. I hung up the phone, exhausted. After a few days, I went to the company and submitted my resignation. As soon as I submitted the resignation letter, my phone rang. When I answered, Nadia’s agitated voice came through. “Nash, what are you up to now?” “This project is very important for the company. You need to know your limits. Get back here and entertain the clients right away.” I cut off her words. “I’ve resigned. Find someone else to take over these things.” The other end of the line went quiet for a moment before erupting with even more intense emotions. “You really want to do this, huh?” “Fine, there are plenty of people who can do your job. Don’t think you can threaten me like this.” As if to punish me, Nadia immediately approved my resignation application. She thought I wouldn’t last half a day before begging her to take me back. But a whole morning passed, and I showed no signs of giving in. She started to get a bit antsy. She called my coworkers several times to pressure me. I ignored it all and continued doing my own work. It turns out when you stop caring about someone, nothing they do has any effect on you anymore. After lunch, I returned to my desk to find Kieran sitting in my chair, strutting around like he owned the place. My things had been thrown all over the floor. When he saw me, he slowly stood up. “Nash, this was all Nadia’s idea. She said to have me take over your position.” Then he walked over to me and lowered his voice next to my ear: “Who told you to be so stupid and resign? From now on, I’ll be the one enjoying the good life here.” Seeing his smug expression, I suddenly found it quite amusing. I don’t know where he got the confidence to say he could replace me. All these years, I’ve poured my heart and soul into maintaining this troubled company. Yet he thinks my position here was about enjoying the good life. Well then, I wish him success. Seeing his face fall, I forced a detached smile, took the box of belongings an employee had helped gather, thanked them, and strode out. I spent a few days saying goodbye to friends before bending down to pack my bags. From now on, I would be leaving this city for good. This place held my youth from recent years, as well as my first love that ended without closure. Bitterness welled up in my heart. I closed my eyes, forcing myself not to think about it anymore. My phone rang abruptly, Nadia’s furious voice coming through. “Nash, you’ve gone too far. You deliberately sabotaged things with the business partners, causing Kieran to be ostracized.” Before I could explain, she imperiously ordered me, “Get your ass back here right now. This big deal is crucial for the company’s performance in the second half of the year. If we lose it because of you, we’re finished.” Her absurd yet confident words made me feel truly ridiculous. What gave her the right to think I would still care? “Didn’t you say you’d be fine without me? Then go find someone else,” I said. Ignoring her angry tone, I hung up and blocked her number. Once everything was packed up, I opened the door and set off for the airport, about to say a final goodbye to the city I had lived in for so many years. I had barely left when a silver BMW cut me off. The door opened and Nadia rushed over, violently throwing her bag at me. It hit me right where I had just had surgery. My face instantly went pale as I gasped in pain. “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” she yelled furiously, kicking my luggage aside and grabbing my collar to slap me hard across the face. “Is your heart really that small? Just because the project wasn’t given to you, you had to sabotage it?” I was in so much pain I was sweating, but I gritted my teeth and bore it. “The deal falling through was because of Kieran’s own incompetence. It had nothing to do with me.” Nadia scoffed coldly, her eyes full of contempt. “You think I’d believe that?” “You could close the deal, how could Kieran possibly fail?” “I can see you’re just jealous of his abilities.” I laughed bitterly, my eyes bloodshot. “If he’s so capable, why don’t you just go to him? Why come find me?” On one hand she looked down on my abilities, on the other she wanted me to come back and work for her. Was I really that cheap in her eyes? The partnership she thought was so simple was actually the result of me pouring my heart and soul into it, disregarding my health to fight for it desperately. With one casual sentence, she negated all my years of effort, making all my hard work seem worthless. Nadia’s face cycled through shades of red and purple, looking extremely ugly. Seeing I was about to leave, she forcibly dragged me into the car. “No matter what you say today, you have to come with me.” I was already in so much pain I could barely move. I weakly begged her, “My stomach hurts. Can you take me to a pharmacy first?” She laughed mockingly. “Are you addicted to acting now?” “Even if you’re in pain to death today, you still have to go close this deal for me first.” My fingers had gone completely cold. I clutched my stomach with difficulty, looking at her in disbelief. The woman I had loved for so many years could actually say such things. She could actually watch me suffer to death without batting an eye. Fine. How lovely. Hatred surged in my heart. My eyes turned bloodshot as I stared at her fixedly.

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Mom gave us two choices. Go with her to the Brown family, where we could attend the best high school with the young master, but only go to domestic universities. Or stay in our hometown for school, with the option to study abroad after high school graduation. Chloe quickly spoke up. “Mom, I want to go with you to the Brown family.” Mom smiled with satisfaction and turned to look at me. “Your sister should let you go abroad. That way, I’ll have fulfilled my duty as a mother.” Seeing Chloe clinging to Mom with an expectant look, I knew. She had also been reborn. Unfortunately, Vaughn would never fall for her. “Adeline, the employer’s house is busy. Your sister and I are leaving today. Take care of yourself at home, okay?” Mom finished packing and left with Chloe. It wasn’t like last time when she stayed an extra ten days trying to convince Chloe to go with her to the Brown family. In my previous life, after Mom presented the two choices, Chloe had also rushed to choose, but she chose to study abroad. After my parents divorced, I was given to Dad. For ten whole years, Mom never came to see me, but I thought about her every day. It wasn’t until Dad passed away and the police brought me to Mom’s place that I was reunited with her. I was so happy when Chloe chose to study abroad. I could finally be with Mom day and night. But Mom wanted to take Chloe more. She stayed at home for ten days, constantly trying to persuade Chloe to go with her. Chloe firmly believed abroad was better, and even when the employer urged Mom to return, she never changed her mind. So, I went with Mom to the Brown family and met Vaughn. He was handsome, cold, and noble, and excelled in his studies. He was the prince charming in every girl’s heart at school. I couldn’t help but fall for him too. I understood we were worlds apart, so I could only bury that love in my heart. Until after the SAT exam, when Vaughn, drunk after a party, pinned me against the wall. “Adeline, will you study abroad with me?” I turned my face away, trying to control myself. “I don’t have money.” Vaughn smiled, and the whole basement seemed to light up. “I’ll pay for you.” At that moment, I realized. The boy I had secretly loved for three years liked me too. Overwhelmed with happiness, I excitedly told Mom that the young master wanted to take me abroad to study. But what I got was a heavy slap from Mom. “You’re not allowed to go. When you chose to come to the Brown family with me, you gave up the option to study abroad. I’ve been saving that money for Chloe to go abroad.” I held my face and tried to explain. “The young master said I don’t need to pay. He’ll cover my tuition.” Mom sneered, looking at me with disdain. “You’re so shameless, climbing into bed for money. Have you considered your position? Who are you, and who is he? “If someone like the young master is interested in you, once he gets bored of you, I’ll still have to pay. “Don’t even think about going abroad. If you dare disobey, don’t ever call me Mom again. “Also, you’d better stay far away from the young master. Don’t affect my work.” Perhaps because I lacked maternal love since childhood, my greatest fear was losing Mom. I dejectedly rejected Vaughn. But Vaughn solemnly told me. “Distance isn’t a problem. I have money to buy plane tickets.” After starting college, we began a long-distance relationship. He flew back every month to see me. The sweetness of love filled me with hope for the future. When Mom found out we were really dating, she secretly asked Vaughn to take care of Chloe, who was also abroad. Vaughn, unaware of our family situation, naively took care of Chloe as a brother-in-law would. Unexpectedly, one day in my senior year, I received a message from Chloe, along with a photo. In the picture, Chloe was topless, hugging Vaughn’s neck, lying on a hotel bed. [Sis, Vaughn and I are together now. Stop clinging to him.] Having dated Vaughn for three years, I knew he would never betray me. My first thought was that Vaughn had been set up. I angrily called Chloe. But I didn’t notice the truck rushing towards me. After my soul left my body, I heard Mom and Chloe’s conversation. “It’s good that your sister died. Hurry and capture the young master’s heart. You’ll be the future mistress of the Brown family.” Chloe laughed smugly. “Mom, you’re so farsighted. Letting Vaughn take care of me abroad gave me the chance to take that photo when he was drunk. “I originally wanted Adeline to give up voluntarily, but she ended up dying directly. Heaven really is on our side. “After Vaughn gets over his grief, I’ll go and offer myself to him.” I had always thought that even if Mom was biased, she would still see me as her daughter. I never expected that she wouldn’t even be sad about my death. Heartbroken, I floated to find Vaughn. Only to discover that Vaughn had taken his own life in the bathtub, holding my photo. It was then that I realized. Vaughn’s love for me was beyond life itself. I went mad, using all my strength to trip Chloe as she was going downstairs. I watched as Chloe fell to her death on the stairs. Only then did my soul dissipate. Unexpectedly, I returned to the day we chose our destinies. Only this time, Chloe chose to go to the Brown family. She thought that as long as she went to the Brown family, Vaughn would fall for her. Unfortunately, she was wrong. Vaughn would never like her. And I would make them pay for what they did in the previous life.

As soon as Mom and Chloe left, my aunt, using the excuse of renovating the room, asked me to move into the school dorms early. Before, when Mom worked as a housekeeper for the Brown family, she let us stay at my uncle’s house. She would give my aunt a monthly allowance. In my previous life, after Mom and I went to the Brown family, Mom increased the allowance and asked them to take good care of Chloe. Chloe lived well at my uncle’s house. Now it seems Mom had stopped giving my aunt the allowance. I didn’t argue, packed my things, and left. Before school started, I had another place to go. After leaving my aunt’s house, I went to the bank. Every year on my birthday, Dad would save some money for me. Only I knew about that money. I withdrew it and took a long-distance bus. I arrived at a remote cemetery. It was a stormy day. I wrapped myself in a raincoat and hid behind a tree, waiting. As it was getting dark, 16-year-old Vaughn rushed in, braving the rain. Several bodyguards followed behind him. Vaughn was soaked, his narrow eyes cold, but his steps were particularly determined. He walked to a grave and frantically started digging through the grass beside it. “Young master, in this heavy rain, it must have been washed away. Let’s come back when the rain stops.” Vaughn seemed not to hear, continuing until he was exhausted and in despair. I walked out from behind the tree. “Excuse me, are you looking for this?” I pulled out a necklace from my pocket. Vaughn’s eyes lit up, and he quickly walked over. Seeing him soaked, I raised my umbrella higher to shield him from the rain. Vaughn took the necklace with trembling hands, his expression relaxing. “How did you get this?” In my previous life, after Vaughn and I got together, he once said that his greatest regret in life was losing the necklace he made with his mother in the summer when he was sixteen. So, I came to the cemetery. To help him make up for that regret, and to meet him. I shrugged and smiled. “The rain washed it down just now. I picked it up and saw you searching for a while, so I thought it might be yours.” “Thank you. This necklace is very important to me. What reward would you like?” Vaughn said thanks, but still maintained a distant attitude. I shivered and said, “How about you treat me to some instant noodles? I’m cold and hungry.” Vaughn was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Okay!” Half an hour later, at my insistence, Vaughn and I ate his first cup of instant noodles together. “I never knew instant noodles could be so delicious.” When we were together before, his favorite food was instant noodles. After eating, Vaughn wanted to keep my contact information to thank me. I smiled and refused. “If fate allows, we’ll meet again.” As I turned away, I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. I wanted so badly to run over and hug him, to tell him everything about the previous life. To tell him how much I missed him, to the point of madness. But that would surely make me seem crazy. I didn’t leave my contact information because I knew all his movements after high school. We would meet again. Vaughn would think it was all fate. Not premeditation.

Finally, school started. The high school curriculum was really simple. I started planning my second meeting with Vaughn. During the National Day holiday, I found a part-time job cleaning at an ice hockey rink. On the third morning, Vaughn came to practice. I secretly watched him from behind. When he was almost done practicing, I spoke softly. “You should twist your wrist a bit when passing the puck.” Vaughn suddenly turned around. I couldn’t see his eyes under his hat. But I could feel his shock. “It’s you! You can see my weakness?” How could I? He told me himself. I played dumb. “I can see a little bit. Do we know each other?” Vaughn took off his hat, his eyes sparkling with joy. I exaggeratedly opened my mouth wide. “Oh, it’s you!” We had lunch together at noon. “You’re underage, how come you’re working here?” “Shh! Don’t let the boss find out. I’m pretending to be an adult.” “Do you really need money that badly?” “My dad died in a car accident. Mom took all the money and left with my sister. How else can I survive if I don’t work?” Vaughn was silent for a moment. “Why don’t you practice ice hockey with me later?” I hesitated. “But I still need to clean…” “Five thousand per hour.” “Alright, sugar daddy!” Vaughn laughed again, almost spitting out his food. After playing hockey in the afternoon, Vaughn invited me to dinner again. I was about to agree when I saw Chloe looking around outside the rink. “Let’s make it next time! I have to go now.” When paying me, we exchanged contact information. After returning to the hotel, Vaughn sent me a message. [Did you get home safely?] I couldn’t help but smile. But I only replied with a simple “yes”.

After the holiday, I started preparing to sign up for the debate competition. In my previous life, although Vaughn and I knew each other, at school, he was in the top class while I was in the lowest. At home, he lived on the top floor, and I lived in the basement. We were two people who would never have crossed paths. It was because of a debate competition that Vaughn noticed me. This time, I wanted to shine even brighter in the debate competition. But when I prepared all the materials, I found out that my hometown high school had no plans to participate. Frustrated, I directly rolled up my bedding and slept in the hallway outside the principal’s house. The principal couldn’t resist my persistence and finally agreed to help me form a team and register, but we had to cover the costs ourselves. Fortunately, there were many students in the school who wanted to participate. We prepared and competed together, busy but happy. Vaughn would sometimes send me messages. Every time, I would stop what I was doing and read each word several times. In the end, I would patiently reply with just a few words. Before the winter break of our first year, I led the debate team into the finals. Vaughn spotted me immediately. “You found another part-time job here?” I flashed my school badge. “I’m here for the finals.” Vaughn glanced at the badge, his eyes widening. “You’re the legendary debater from Maple Leaf High School.” “Legendary?” Vaughn’s expression changed, his gaze intense. “With your school’s level, making it to the finals is like divine intervention. “Half of today’s audience is here for your team captain. Introduce me to your captain later.” At this moment, my teammate ran over. “Captain, our seats are over there. Let’s go!” Vaughn was stunned, his gaze towards me seemed to be changing.

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I had just gotten married when my in-laws decided to wash their hands of everything and travel all over the place. For the past two years, the couple has been traveling across the country. They’ve been spending their savings like there’s no tomorrow. I’ve told my husband several times to persuade his parents to save some money for their retirement. But my husband always retorts with a gruff voice: “Are you hoping to leech off my parents? Why are you always calculating their money? As their children, of course we’ll take care of them in their old age. Why else would we have kids?” My good intentions were misunderstood. After that, I stopped bringing it up. I figured as long as they had enough money for themselves and didn’t burden us, it would be fine. But I was naive to think the problem would be that simple. With the way my in-laws were spending money, how could their savings be enough? In the living room. “Alex, you know your cousin is getting married this July. I was wondering when your mom could pay back the $7,000 she borrowed from me last year,” Aunt Emma asked bluntly as she placed the candy and gifts she brought on the table. My husband and I were stunned for a moment, looking at each other in confusion. My husband quickly recovered and probed, “Aunt Emma, did Mom borrow money from you privately? I had no idea.” Aunt Emma waved her hand and slowly explained the situation: “Your mom asked me not to tell you when she borrowed the money. She said she was out of cash and needed me to lend her a few thousand dollars. It’s not just me – your Uncle Jack and Aunt Sarah have also lent her money. I wouldn’t be in a rush to ask for it back, but your cousin is getting married, you know? I called your mom, but she said she didn’t have any money and told me to ask you.” My heart sank, and my face fell. It was bad enough that my in-laws had blown through their savings, but they were even borrowing money from relatives. My husband’s face also darkened, and he let out a long sigh: “Aunt Emma, give me your bank account details. I’ll try to gather the money and transfer it to you in the next couple of days.” “Alright, I’ll send you the account information when I get home. I’ll be going now,” Aunt Emma said with a smile, getting up to leave as soon as my husband agreed to repay the money. I tried hard to suppress my anger. I forced a smile as I saw her out. As soon as I closed the door. Furious, I clutched my aching chest and exclaimed: “Honey, what’s wrong with your parents? Isn’t all that money enough for them? They’re even borrowing money from relatives now? I told you earlier to ask them to be more careful with their spending. Look what’s happened now!” My husband’s face was grim too. He snapped: “Enough, stop nagging about this and that. I’ll ask them about it later.” My husband irritably took out a pack of cigarettes and started smoking. Then he called his parents and asked them to come over right away. Whenever it came to matters concerning his parents. My husband couldn’t bear to hear a word against them from me. My temper flared up too, and I didn’t want to stay with him. I went back to our room to take care of the baby. My in-laws have been selfish their entire lives. They’ve never thought about their children. When my husband and I got married, we used money that he had saved from his own work. His parents didn’t contribute a penny. They even made us pay for our own wedding. Later, when we bought a house, my husband used all his savings and borrowed some money from friends to come up with $20,000. My parents also gave us $20,000 to help our little family. I had thought about asking my mother-in-law to lend us some money to reduce our mortgage burden. But she brushed me off, saying she had no money. She even declared harshly: “No one can count on my money.” And now, this is what’s happened… I suddenly felt that the pressure on my husband and me would be enormous in the future. “Quick, quick, Lily, make me something to eat. I’m starving!” My mother-in-law’s voice came from outside. As soon as I walked out, my mother-in-law immediately ordered me to make her food in a bossy tone. I didn’t agree. My husband made tea for his parents and brought it over: “Mom, I called you over today because I need to clarify something. Did you borrow money from Aunt Emma and the others? Aunt Emma came by today saying you borrowed $7,000 from her last year.” Hearing this, my father-in-law nervously looked left and right while holding his cup, not saying a word. My mother-in-law was stunned for a few seconds, then reacted and said matter-of-factly: “Oh my, I had forgotten all about that. Yes, I borrowed $7,000 from your Aunt Emma last year. Mom’s a bit short on cash now, so can you help me pay it back?” My husband asked in disbelief: “Mom, you two have so much in savings, and it’s still not enough for the two of you?” Seeing that her son was angry, my mother-in-law’s eyes darted around, trying to change the subject: “What’s wrong? I’m your own mother. What’s wrong with me spending some money? We do have savings, and we haven’t asked you for money before. You don’t know, but in my group of friends, their sons give them money every month. Look at you!” My husband ignored her attempt to change the subject. I couldn’t hold back: “Well, other parents buy houses and cars for their children! What about you? We’re not asking for your money, but at least don’t drag us down!” But my mother-in-law didn’t take my words seriously: “I’m talking to my son. Why are you butting in? I’m not asking you to pay, am I?” “You…” Just as I was about to argue with my mother-in-law, my husband grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. His eyes were full of disapproval. Although he was also angry about his parents’ behavior. He didn’t approve of me, his daughter-in-law, talking back to his mother. I was furious too, and since he didn’t want me involved, I wouldn’t be. I wrenched my hand free and sat down by myself. My husband rubbed his forehead in frustration, trying to keep his voice calm: “Tell me, Mom, how much money do you actually owe?” My in-laws exchanged a glance. My husband stared at them intently. My mother-in-law hesitated: “A…about $20,000.” “What? You owe that much? Are you spending money or throwing it away? I told you to be more careful with your monthly expenses. $20,000 is my entire year’s salary. Are you trying to work me to death?” Before my mother-in-law could finish, my husband jumped up in anger. He couldn’t help but point at his parents and scold them. “Don’t… don’t be angry. As long as you help pay off these debts, we won’t spend so recklessly in the future,” my mother-in-law promised, cowering a bit, frightened by my husband’s outburst. “Pay it back? Where am I supposed to get that kind of money? I still have to pay the mortgage and car loan every month!” my husband snapped back at his mother in frustration. Then he sat down heavily on the sofa. The living room fell into an awkward silence. Until my mother-in-law turned on me: “Lily, didn’t you have your mom come look after the baby before? You paid her every month, right? Your mom must have some money saved up now. Why don’t you ask her to lend us some?” Last year after I gave birth, I had originally wanted my mother-in-law to help take care of the baby. I was going to give her $500 a month as compensation, but she refused because she was busy traveling. I had no choice but to ask my mom to come after discussing it with my husband. My mom adamantly refused to take any money, but after my repeated insistence. She symbolically took $300 a month. But she often bought things for me and the baby. That money, though given to my mom, mostly ended up back in our pockets. And my mom still tirelessly took care of the child. I clenched my fists, suppressing my emotions: “Mom, I had originally wanted to pay you to look after the baby, but you didn’t want to, so I had to ask my mom to come. My mom didn’t want to take any money, and in the end only symbolically took $300 a month. And with how often she buys things for the family, that money doesn’t even stay in her pocket. How can you have the nerve to try to get money from my mom?” But my mother-in-law refused to listen to reason, taking the opportunity to play the elder card: “That sounds nice, but would you really let your mom suffer a loss? Who knows how much money you’ve given her behind our backs? Besides, the baby is her grandchild too. Is it about the money or about hurting feelings?” When it’s not about her, she always takes the high road. I scoffed coldly: “How noble of you! You talk about feelings! Well, the baby is your own grandson too. Why don’t you come take care of him for free without asking for money?” “You… how dare you talk back to me like this? I’m still your mother-in-law! Son, control your wife. Look how disrespectful she is to her elders.” Choked by my words, my mother-in-law’s face turned from red to white. She resorted to shifting the topic. “Enough, stop arguing. Mom and Dad, you should go home first. I’ll figure something out!” my husband interrupted impatiently, cutting off the argument between me and his mother. “Alex, Mom knew you wouldn’t let her down. You’re such a good, filial son. I’ll leave that money issue to you to sort out then.” Having achieved her goal, my mother-in-law’s face lit up with a smile. She showered my husband with praise. Then she took my father-in-law’s arm and sauntered out. I sat silently to the side. Inwardly, I resented my husband. Our family wasn’t well-off either. He had taken on this burden, but with his parents’ extravagant spending habits. I feared that once this debt was paid off, they would just borrow more. When would it ever end? After thinking for a long while, I couldn’t hold back and spoke up: “Honey, do you really plan to help your parents pay off this debt? What if they keep borrowing in the future?” My husband took a drag on his cigarette and replied dismissively: “What else can I do? They’re my parents. If I don’t help pay off this debt, who will? People would laugh at me.” I rolled my eyes: “Anyone with eyes can see your parents are just trying to freeload off us because they’re out of money. They want to stay at our place to eat and drink for free, and have me as their unpaid housekeeper to serve your whole family.” As soon as he heard me badmouth his parents, my husband immediately put on a serious face: “That’s enough. It’s natural for parents to rely on their children. Don’t worry, I’ll let them stay for a week, then I’ll send them back home. I can’t just turn them away when they show up at our door with their luggage, can I?” Although I was indignant inside. But thinking about it, what my husband said did make sense. Forcing my in-laws to leave today would likely lead to gossip from the neighbors. “Alright, but remember what you said – send your parents home after a week.” I still made a concession. After my in-laws moved in It was pretty much as I had expected. Because we didn’t agree to pay my mother-in-law, even though I was already run ragged at home, she refused to lend a hand. She waited for me to cook three meals a day and was picky about the food. She had also joined a dance group downstairs. Whenever she had time, she would go dancing in the neighborhood. She didn’t help with any housework at all. That would have been fine. But my in-laws were also not very hygienic. They often left their dirty clothes lying around. They never threw used bags into the trash can. Instead, they just left them on the table. In just a few short days. The house was in a complete mess. I was busy from dawn to dusk every day. Juggling housework and childcare, while also looking after two elderly people. I was on the verge of a mental and physical breakdown. So, after a week. I brought up the idea of having my in-laws return to their own home again. “We’re not going back. Your father and I are comfortable staying here, with good food and drink. Why should we go back to live by ourselves? What? You dare not let your mother-in-law stay at your place?” Sure enough, as soon as I brought it up. My mother-in-law glared coldly at my husband, ignoring me. My husband smiled awkwardly and put some meat in his mother’s bowl: “Mom, my home is your home! Stay as long as you like.” My father-in-law also chimed in while eating: “Alex, you can’t forget your parents just because you got married. It was your mother and I who raised you with such hardship. Now that you’re married, you won’t even let your own parents stay? People would curse you if they heard this.”

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My father, Derek Hartman, was a DEA agent who gave his life on the front lines of the drug war. Since I was a kid, I had one dream: to restore his badge number and follow in his footsteps. When I learned my scores were good enough to get into the federal law enforcement academy, I called my mom immediately to share the news. Her response was harsh: “You? A cop? With your pathetic grades? Restore your father’s badge number. Don’t embarrass him. Get lost!” Her words hit like a sledgehammer. Devastated, I wandered home, only to be ambushed in Shadow Creek Alley by a group of thugs. “Word is your dad, Derek Hartman, was a DEA hotshot. Trained a bunch of agents and made life hell for us. Let’s talk about that, shall we?” I refused to go quietly, fighting with everything I had. But they were prepared. A knife pierced my lower back, draining me of all strength. As my consciousness faded, I thought of my mom’s last words. Mom… have I disgraced Dad? Content In the early hours of the morning, Bayport police received a report about large amounts of blood found in Shadow Creek Alley. No victim was in sight. The caller assumed it was a drunken brawl gone wrong and urged the police to find the injured person quickly. Officers arrived to find the heavy rain had washed the blood into a chaotic mess. There were no signs of a victim nearby. A thorough search of the area led them to Riverside Millworks, an abandoned factory where they discovered dismembered body parts scattered across the floor. In the autopsy room, harsh fluorescent lights flickered on. “What’s the situation with this case?” A calm, authoritative voice broke the silence as a woman in a crisp forensic uniform entered, followed by two young officers. It was Dr. Vanessa Sterling-Hartman—my mother and the most respected forensic examiner in Bayport. One of the officers said hesitantly, “Dr. Hartman, the victim’s condition is… bad. Maybe you should prepare yourself…” My mom waved them off. “I’ve seen everything there is to see. Let’s start the autopsy and solve this case quickly.” Indeed, my mother had seen it all in her two-decade career—decapitations, dismemberments, even bodies dissolved in cement. She was a consummate professional. But Mom… have you ever considered that the body on your autopsy table might be the son you’ve always ignored? Floating above, detached and invisible, I watched her work without emotion. When she unzipped the body bag, her brow furrowed deeply—not just because of the mangled remains, but because one critical part was missing. “Where’s the head?” “We searched the entire factory,” one officer stammered. “It’s likely the suspects took it.” “Fine. Let’s proceed.” She donned gloves and began sorting the remains—bones, flesh, fragments of fingers. Each piece she identified was meticulously placed in order. “The victim is male. He’s between eighteen and twenty-three, roughly five-foot-nine to six feet, based on the growth plates. Likely a student,” she narrated with clinical precision. “Judging by the condition of the cuts, the killers broke the victim’s finger bones, radius, ulna, humerus, tibia, and femur while he was still alive. Then, they dismembered the limbs. It seems they weren’t satisfied and used blunt tools—his ribs and vertebrae are almost entirely shattered.” Her grim analysis left one of the young officers pale and trembling. He clutched his stomach, barely holding back nausea. The unimaginable pain and despair the victim endured hung heavy in the room. Mom turned suddenly. “Were any weapons found at the scene?” “Yes… these,” the officer stammered, handing her photos of a rusted, bloodstained saw and a hammer caked in blood and flesh. The dull blade of the saw had been used to cut through every joint and bone. The pain it inflicted on a living person was beyond description.

Mom frowned deeply. “This isn’t random. What kind of grudge would drive someone to do this to a kid?” Even revenge killings didn’t usually escalate to this level of brutality. One of the officers responded respectfully, “Dr. Hartman, Detective Sam Boone’s preliminary investigation ruled out robbery and random violence. This is a revenge killing. The team is cross-checking recent cases of missing persons citywide.” “Good,” she replied tersely. She resumed reconstructing the remains, hoping to uncover clues. But her efforts were in vain. Even dental records—often a surefire way to identify a victim—were useless because the suspects had taken the head. Identifying a person from such a pulverized, unclothed body seemed impossible. Floating nearby, I felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. At least Mom didn’t know it was me. If she did, she’d only call me a disappointment one last time… With a heavy sigh, she muttered, “Poor kid. Whatever grudge they had with his family, why take it out on him?” For a brief moment, her eyes shimmered with tears. This was the mom I didn’t recognize. The meticulous forensic examiner piecing together every shard of bone. The compassionate woman feels for an unknown victim. It felt so foreign. I’d always known Mom didn’t like me. I remember one rainy night when I was in elementary school. I had a fever, and Mom rushed me to the hospital, letting Dad—exhausted from days of overtime—rest at home. But she didn’t know Dad got an urgent call not long after we left. He ran out without even grabbing his gear. That same night, he was killed in a shootout with a cartel kingpin. Mom was the one who handled Dad’s autopsy. I was too young to understand death back then, but now I realize how traumatic that must have been for her. Maybe Mom blamed me. If I hadn’t fallen ill that night, Dad might still be alive. Looking at her now, I couldn’t blame her. Her focus was interrupted by a sudden ringtone. She stopped mid-motion, glaring at the two officers. “It’s not us,” they said quickly. Mom checked her phone. The call was from Rachel, my aunt. “I’m busy,” Mom answered curtly. “Vanessa, do you know where Elijah is? His phone’s off, and no one’s seen him.” “Elijah?” Mom frowned. “I don’t know. I yelled at him yesterday. He’s probably sulking in some gaming café. Leave him be.” Rachel’s voice grew concerned. “You yelled at him? Vanessa, he was so excited yesterday! His scores were good enough for the academy!” “Academy? That boy needs to get a job in IT or something. Is he becoming a cop? That would be an insult to the profession.” Her voice was as sharp as ever.

Rachel hesitated momentarily before saying, “It’s always been Elijah’s dream. He worked so hard to get those scores. I even planned to celebrate with a big dinner—I bought so much seafood…” Vanessa’s anger flared. “I don’t care! If he applies to that academy, he can forget about calling me his mother. He can go rot wherever he wants!” She ended the call abruptly, her chest rising and falling in frustration as she stood over the autopsy table, silent for a long time. I’m sorry, Mom. I won’t apply to the academy. Please don’t be mad. It’s not worth your health. I wanted so badly to tell her that. But as a wandering spirit, I could only hover above and watch helplessly. I wanted to cry, but ghosts have no tears. By now, Mom had reassembled most of the body, but something was missing—two fingers from the right hand. She frowned, instructing the nearby officer. “The right ring finger and pinky are missing. Tell the team at the scene to look again. If they’re not found…” My spirit tensed. When I was a kid, I had teased a police dog and gotten bitten. Those two fingers had scars so deep they were unmistakable. That dog had to retire early because of me, and Mom had berated me endlessly. Had she forgotten? Of course, she forgot. She never cared about me… No! Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t remember. I can’t let her know she’s the one who lost both Dad and me. The young officer saluted. “Understood! If we can’t find the fingers, it likely means they had distinctive markings.” Mom nodded. “Exactly. Focus on people with old injuries or tattoos on their hands.” She cut off a small piece of flesh. “Run a DNA test. Cross-reference it with the database. Find any immediate relatives.” I felt a wave of panic. If they ran DNA tests, they’d figure it out quickly. Mom! Don’t do it. Don’t run the DNA! Drop this case! Please! But my pleas fell on deaf ears. She couldn’t hear me. Mom worked tirelessly in the autopsy room for hours. She had arrived early, and it was already dark again when she stepped out. “Dr. Hartman, you’ve worked so hard,” one of the officers said. Mom nodded slightly, about to head home when she saw Rachel waiting anxiously near the station entrance. “Vanessa, Elijah’s been missing for more than a day now! I talked to his friends—they haven’t seen him! I even checked all the gaming cafés near the school, but he was nowhere. What do we do?” Mom’s face tightened with annoyance. “This is just one of his tricks to get me to let him apply to the academy! It’s not going to work. As long as he stays out of trouble and follows the law, that’s good enough. He’s not cut out to be a cop!” Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. “Forget his applications! His safety is the priority right now! I just heard there’s been a big case—a boy was dismembered. Aren’t you even worried it could be Elijah?” Mom’s frustration erupted. “Stop speculating about open cases that haven’t been made public! Elijah is eighteen. He’s old enough to take care of himself. If something happens to him, it’s his fault for being careless and wondering where he shouldn’t!” Rachel froze. “I’m not trying to dig for information. I’m just… scared for him.” Mom’s gaze hardened. “If he can’t manage basic risk assessment, he has no business applying to the academy. He might as well go get a job at some office instead.”

“Vanessa Sterling-Hartman! Do you hear yourself? Elijah lost his father when he was just a kid. He’s already been through enough! Instead of breaking him down, you should be building him up. What kind of person are you?” Rachel’s voice cracked as she yelled, tears streaming down her face. “You better pray that poor boy, in this case,e isn’t Elijah. Because if it is, you’ll never forgive yourself!” Her words sent a jolt of fear through me. Does she know? But the look on Rachel’s face wasn’t one of certainty. She was bluffing to provoke Mom. And it worked. Mom’s face went pale, her voice defensive. “Impossible! I would know if it was my son! That boy is not Elijah!” Rachel clenched her fists. “If it is Elijah, you’re not getting those remains. You don’t care about him anyway. He belongs to the Hartman family!” Mom shot back, “Take him! Do you think I care? I’ve had enough of that dead weight anyway!” Rachel shook with anger. “You’re unbelievable, Vanessa! Elijah is a great kid; all he’s ever gotten from you is cruelty. You’re heartless! I can’t even look at you!” I floated above them, unsure how to feel. Rachel had always been there for me, especially after Dad’s death. Mom only cared for my basic needs, but Rachel filled in the gaps. She gave me my first razor and my first pair of boxers. When I wanted to apply to the academy, Rachel secretly paid for my tutoring sessions. From school supplies to gadgets, she covered it all. To Rachel, I was practically her son. As she stormed out of the station, I followed, hovering close. She pulled out her phone, hands trembling, and began typing a message. Curious, I leaned in to see. Elijah, things are dangerous out there. No matter how upset you are with your mom, you must come home. And if you can’t face her, come to me. I’ll pay for your college. Forget your mom—my door is always open. Please be safe. Tears welled up as I read her words. Rachel lost her brother, my dad, that night in the rain. Yet, she never let bitterness take root. She gave all her love to me instead. I’m sorry, Aunt Rachel. I’m afraid I’ll only let you down. I followed her for a while, but the further we got from the police station, the weaker I felt. My body—what was left of it—kept me tethered there. When I returned, I found Mom slumped in a chair, staring blankly ahead. One of the young officers approached her cautiously. “Dr. Hartman, you’ve been working nonstop for twenty hours. Please, get some rest.” Mom shook her head. “No. I can’t let this case go. I’ll rest here briefly, then go over the remains again.” The officer hesitated but nodded. “Alright.” I watched Mom’s exhausted body waver, torn between her dedication and limits. “The DNA results are in!” The announcement electrified the station. Even I felt a surge of unease. Mom, who had spent the last two nights at the station, rushed to the records room. “Did the database find a match? Who’s the victim?” “They’re running the comparison now. Give it a moment,” an officer replied. Everyone crowded around the screen, watching the progress bar creep forward. 75%… 88%… 95%… 100%. Every breath in the room was held as they waited for the result.

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On the eve of our wedding, Elliot Starling suddenly became incredibly busy. He couldn’t even attend the wedding venue to oversee the decorations, as we had planned. Feeling guilty, he called to reassure me. “Riverhaven’s got thunderstorms tonight. Be a good girl and stay home, okay? Don’t go out.” “Don’t worry about the setup. All you need to do is show up as the beautiful bride you are.” But I wasn’t convinced. I went to check for myself. And that’s when I saw him. In the massive helicopter parked on the lawn, a woman in a flight attendant’s uniform kneeled between his legs. “Sir, did my service meet your expectations?” Elliot smirked and pulled the woman into his arms. But that was supposed to be my wedding venue. The helicopter? That was supposed to be my dream. …… Content The rain in Riverhaven was relentless, a downpour so wild it shook the skies. By the time I stumbled back home, I was drenched, pale, and shivering like a drowned cat. Feverish and burning up, I fumbled for a fever pill, swallowed it dry, and curled up under a blanket to make a call. “Hello? I’ve changed my mind.” “I want to join Atlantic Skies Airways. Yes, as soon as possible.” I hung up, sneezing hard as the memory of what I’d just witnessed came crashing back. I stayed in Riverhaven for Elliot. Now, I was leaving because of him. The medication kicked in, and I closed my eyes. Not long after, Elliot’s call jolted me awake. His voice on the other end was as soft and soothing as if nothing had changed. “Sienna, I’m swamped. Have you been eating properly?” I coughed twice. Elliot instantly grew concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Didn’t dress warmly enough, or…” His worry stopped short. A new sharpness entered his tone. “Sienna… you went out, didn’t you?” “Mm,” I murmured weakly. “I went downstairs to grab breakfast. Didn’t realize how bad the rain was.” The tension on his end eased. “I told you not to go out in this storm! We’ll have someone bring whatever you need to the villa.” “Our wedding’s just days away. If you’re too sick to stand, where will I find a bride as beautiful as you?” I didn’t respond. All I could think about was the helicopter on the lawn and the woman in uniform. I was sure Elliot would find someone else. If I couldn’t reach the altar “Sienna?” When I stayed silent, Elliot hesitated. Then, muffled noises: a stifled gasp, interrupted breaths. He growled low at someone near him, half-scolding, half-playful. “Sienna, the rain’s awful. Someone bumped into me out here.” “Be careful, okay? Don’t drive too fast.” “Don’t worry.” Elliot’s tone lightened. “Just thinking about finishing these meetings and returning to you makes me want to push seventy on the highway!” “Gotta go. Call you later.” The line disconnected abruptly, his usual sweet nothings cut short. Moments later, a text arrived: “Sienna, the wedding company just called. There’s a problem with the helicopter we booked—they must send it back for repairs. How about we replace it with a giant floral arch?” Repairs, huh? I thought back to the scene in the helicopter. Or maybe it needed fixing because it got a little too steamy during… whatever that was? Honestly, having a helicopter at the wedding was absurdly extravagant. It was Elliot’s idea. When I was 24, in my first year as a flight attendant, I had a rude passenger pour a scalding cup of water onto my hand. I still had to crouch down and clean the cabin, fighting tears. At the time, Elliot was struggling with his startup. I couldn’t afford to take a break, even with bandages covering my burn. That scar is still there. Elliot had held me back then, his voice trembling as he made a promise: “When I make it big, I’ll take you on a helicopter ride.” “No passengers, no service duties. Just the two of us. Something romantic, just ours.” But he didn’t keep that promise. He gave our romance to someone else. Everything else since then? Just guilt-ridden scraps. I didn’t want them anymore. A confused cat emoji popped up in our chat window. I stared at the keyboard, typing a single word: “Okay.”

When Elliot’s assistant dropped off food for me, I was deep in a feverish sleep and didn’t hear the doorbell. By the time I woke up, the takeout outside was cold. When I opened the bag, everything was exactly what I liked: light and easy to eat. The microwave was there, but I couldn’t bring myself to reheat it. I felt nauseous instead. I shoved the containers into the fridge and called Quinn Sawyer my best friend. “I’m leaving,” I told her. For the next fifteen minutes, she unleashed a tirade against Elliot Starling. “Are you serious? He’s sitting on his high horse now, and you’re just going to walk away quietly? Do you know how much that would benefit him?” “If you ask me, you should marry him first! Gather all the dirt on his cheating and sue him for divorce. Take half his fortune while you’re at it!” “You’ve given him ten years, Sienna. Ten years of your life, and for what? To walk away with nothing?” Ten years. That’s how long Elliot and I had been together. I watched him start from nothing, fail, rebuild, and finally create his brand. The most challenging years were during the pandemic. His fledgling company was on the brink of collapse. My flights were cut by more than half. We had no choice but to give up our spacious apartment and move into a cramped basement apartment. Those days were brutal. It was brutal to the point where we practically fought the rats in the walls for scraps. Elliot had to repay suppliers on time, or it would ruin his credit. He took on grueling manual labor to make ends meet. I begged my boss for extra flights. No matter how disgusting, complex, or dangerous, I took every route they threw at me. Somehow, we survived. I’ll never forget the day we paid off our last debt. Elliot locked the door to the basement, dragged a suitcase in one hand, and held my hand in the other. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and said: “Sienna Raine, thank you for staying by my side.” “I, Elliot Starling, swear to God—one day, I’ll make something of myself and give you the grandest wedding imaginable!” Back then, his sincerity was like crystal—pure and transparent. But years of struggling had dulled its shine. Quinn wasn’t entirely wrong. From an outsider’s perspective, I probably should fight for something to justify my ten years with him. But if I said I didn’t hate Elliot, no one would believe me. There was a moment of rage—when I saw him with that woman in the helicopter. But after that, all I felt was exhaustion. I just wanted to leave. To get far away from him, from this place filled with a decade of memories, and start over. “I don’t want to make this ugly,” I said, lowering my gaze. Call me weak, call me a coward. I didn’t want to rip apart the veil of decency between us and destroy the best parts of our ten years together. Because those years were my youth. No matter how rotten he became, Elliot Starling was the man I had once loved with all my heart. Quinn sighed. “So when are you leaving?” I checked my inbox. Atlantic Skies Airways had already sent the offer letter. “Two days.” In just two days, I would be gone. It was 10 p.m., and Elliot still wasn’t home. Since his career took off, we lived on opposite schedules. Sometimes, I flew red-eye flights and returned to an empty house. Eventually, I requested not to fly at night. I just wanted to return home to some semblance of “us.” I’d gotten used to waiting. But tonight, I didn’t want to wait. Just as I turned off the lights, my phone rang. The sound of running water came through the line, sharp and jarring in the stillness of the night. “Sienna, don’t wait up for me.” “I was supposed to fly back tonight, but the moment I landed, they pulled me into back-to-back meetings.” “Everyone’s scrambling to get things done before I go on wedding leave…” “Don’t be mad, okay? After the wedding, I’ll make it up to you with the best honeymoon ever.” I wanted to ask him: What flight takes off from Liberty Tower’s rooftop terrace and lands at this hotel? What kind of meeting requires participants to shower before joining? But I said none of that. “Work’s important. Take care of yourself, too,” I replied instead. He started to say something, but then the sound of water stopped. Bare feet padded across hardwood. Clothing rustled. I could almost hear someone whispering near his ear. A dull thud followed. His phone hit the ground. Through the line came the unmistakable sounds of lips meeting lips. Maybe he was in such a rush he forgot to hang up. I listened masochistically until a woman’s soft, breathy voice broke through: “Elliot, are you getting married?” Elliot likely lit a cigarette. I could hear the exhale. “What else would I do?” he chuckled. “She’s been with me for ten years. I owe her a title. Can’t have people saying I’m heartless.” The woman sneered, her tone mocking. “What a generous older man. You never wondered if she, as a flight attendant, might’ve been with other men all these years?” Elliot didn’t respond. Unaware of his silence, the woman kept going. “I heard she flew a lot of Mexico flights. Aren’t those notorious?” “Plus, no one in her line of work is sponsor-free. Didn’t she bail you out during your financial crisis?” “Enough!” Elliot roared. “Speak out of turn again, and you’ll regret it! I know who Sienna Raine is, and it’s not your place to judge her!” I hung up, trembling from head to toe. I knew Elliot. He didn’t lose his temper without reason. He had listened, taken it in, and let it sink deep into his heart. Memories of those difficult years resurfaced. To pay off his debts, I flew countless Mexico flights. The conditions were beyond nasty. But worse were the leering stares, the feeling of being prey surrounded by wolves. By the end of each flight, my body bore black handprints I couldn’t wash away. Once, a passenger tricked me into coming to the back of the plane and then dragged me into the restroom to assault me. If not for a colleague passing by and hearing my cries for help, I might not have escaped. On the way home, I cried for hours. But when I reached the door, I dried my tears. I didn’t want Elliot to know. I didn’t want him to feel guilty or worried. So I said nothing—not about that, the men who offered to “sponsor” me or the businessmen who tried to date me. I rejected them all. Because I knew Elliot only had me. And I only had him. I believed in every promise he made and every word he spoke utterly. I believed he’d make it one day. And he did. But now, I didn’t want it anymore.

The following day, I woke up early, determined to start packing. I wanted to sort the more significant items for shipping before I left. I didn’t expect Elliot Starling to walk through the door. The photo frame holding our engagement picture from when I was 27 fell to the floor and shattered. I scrambled to pick it up, only to cut my finger on the broken glass. Blood dripped onto the floor. Elliot rushed over to help, his face full of worry. “You’re not feeling well. Lie down and rest. Let the cleaning lady handle this.” As he spoke, he angrily kicked the photo frame across the room. I froze, staring at the shards of glass and the photo now scattered on the floor. Tears welled in my eyes. That photo… was from the day we got engaged. When Elliot earned his first real paycheck, he bought me a simple white sundress and a modest diamond ring. He dragged me to take engagement photos, grinning the whole time. That same day, he promised to take me to the Liberty Tower Rooftop Terrace for their rotating buffet dinner. “That place costs thousands, doesn’t it?” I said, wincing at the thought. Elliot threw an arm around my shoulder and said confidently, “I make the money; you spend it. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” I shook my head and teased him. “I hate sushi, and that place serves too much of it. I don’t want to ruin my stomach for days.” “How about this: buy me a big bowl of spicy mac and cheese with extra eggs. Save the rest of the money, and you can take me when I want to go.” He laughed, ruffled my hair, and said, “Deal.” But we never did have that bowl of spicy mac and cheese. And the wedding he promised? That had been postponed for seven years. Seven years gone by in a flash. Elliot noticed my tears and panicked. “Does it hurt?” I shook my head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “Don’t cry, Sienna,” he said gently, wiping my face. “We’ve got to try on wedding dresses today. You’ll look terrible in photos if your eyes are swollen.” I froze. “Didn’t we already pick one out?” A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “We did, but the boutique just called. They’ve got an even more luxurious, custom-made gown. I want you to have the best.” His gaze burned with intensity, but I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or just another performance. Elliot, you always needed to understand. I never wanted luxury or extravagance. That simple sundress you bought me all those years ago meant more than any couture gown ever could. Still, I didn’t resist. I let him lead me to the boutique. The moment we walked in, the staff recognized him. They glanced at me briefly, then avoided my eyes, shifting nervously. I had a good idea of what that meant. Following Elliot’s instructions, the manager ushered me to the premium section to pick a gown. As we passed the storage area, I saw two employees moving a wedding dress into the back. It was the dress I had chosen. I smiled to myself but said nothing. Dress after dress, Elliot found none to his satisfaction. Finally, I stepped out in a pure white satin, strapless gown. Elliot, who had been sitting with his head down, looked up. He stared at me, speechless for a long time. I saw a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes—admiration, nostalgia, confusion, doubt, disdain, and irritation. Then, he frowned. “Who told you to bring her a plain white dress like this?” My heart sank. Did he see me as unworthy of the purity the dress symbolized? Or was he convinced that my efforts to support him during our most challenging years came at the cost of my dignity? “I told you! I want the most extravagant, sparkling, and ornate gown you have! Don’t try to pass off something so basic!” His contempt cut more profound than any glass shard could. Before the staff could bring another dress, I slipped into the dressing room and leaned against the wall. My chest felt tight, my eyes stung, but the tears wouldn’t fall. Through the curtain, I heard Elliot’s low voice on the phone. “Why are you calling me? You know I’m with her at the boutique.” “If you hadn’t swiped her dress with my black card, I wouldn’t have had to come back here!” “When I see her in plain white… I can’t help but think about what you said…” “Forget it. You’ll be there for me later. As long as she stays put at home, that’s enough.” When he dropped me off at home later, his words still echoed in my head, refusing to leave. Eventually, I snapped back to reality and found myself alone. I went to the closet and pulled out the white sundress Elliot gave me when I was 27. It still hung there. I folded it carefully and placed it in a large bag to donate. Next, I climbed up to the attic and cleared old boxes. Inside were piles of photos from our shared history. I pulled the albums out, tossing the photos into the fire until nothing was left but ashes. The empty albums and boxes went outside for pickup. Then, I found an old notebook at the bottom of a box. Its yellowed pages were filled with Elliot’s handwriting—his accounting ledger from the early days of his business. He had meticulously recorded every penny borrowed, repaid, earned, and spent. I remembered how he used to carry that notebook everywhere. It was like his lifeline. Now, it was buried among our forgotten memories. I brushed off crumbs and stains—remnants of long nights, cheap meals, and tears shed in frustration. Flipping through, I noticed a recurring entry: “2018: Owe Mr. Landon $20,000. Due within a year.” “2018: Owe Mr. Grant $10,000. Due within a year.” “2018: Year-end summary—Owe Sienna Raine one wedding. Lifetime repayment.” I froze, staring at the words. Every year, my name appeared in his notes. On the last page, in bold red ink, Elliot had written: “Elliot Starling, never forget to marry your girl.” “Remind yourself every year until you fulfill this promise.” I didn’t know what to feel. I could only laugh weakly, unsure if it was bitterness or resignation. Sliding the notebook into the hidden compartment of my suitcase, I zipped it shut and prepared for my last flight. A one-way ticket to Montclair. From there, I’d transfer to Greenport and start my new job at Atlantic Skies Airways. But I never expected to see Elliot Starling on that flight.

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It was our anniversary, and I lied to Preston Ashford, telling him I couldn’t return from a work trip. In reality, I had prepared a special gift and was hiding in the walk-in closet of our bedroom to surprise him. But then, I overheard his conversation with a friend. “Preston, when are you going to come clean with her? Don’t tell me you’re falling for that woman.” “A woman like her? Not a chance.” “Everett’s been ruined because of her. The Winslow family may have let it go, but I sure as hell won’t.” “Next month is our engagement party. I’ll leave her at the altar and let her feel the sting of abandonment.” Their voices were filled with venom, discussing me like I was their sworn enemy. I froze. My blood turned to ice as the realization sank in. Everett Winslow. He was my ex-boyfriend. And the source of my nightmares. Content It was our anniversary, and I lied to Preston Ashford, telling him I couldn’t return from a work trip. In reality, I had meticulously planned a surprise, hiding in the walk-in closet with a gift I’d picked out just for him. Before long, Preston and his friend Travis Holt entered the bedroom. I was ready to jump out and surprise him, but I stopped when I heard Travis say, “Preston, when are you going to tell her the truth? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that piece of trash.” I froze in place. Tell me the truth about what? “Not a chance,” Preston scoffed. “Everett’s in that condition because of her. The Winslows might not care, but I’ll never forgive her.” “Next month is our engagement party. That’s when I’ll walk out on her in front of everyone and let her taste humiliation.” Travis gritted his teeth, his voice laced with anger. “Everett’s been our brother since we were kids. That woman nearly destroyed him!” “You’ve got to use her and then toss her aside. Let her suffer.” “Don’t worry. I came back to the States for this. I’ve been waiting for the moment to make her hurt a hundred times worse than Everett.” The two of them chatted a little longer before leaving the room. I sat there frozen, my mind a whirlwind of disbelief. My blood seemed to stop flowing, my body growing colder every second. I thought I’d never hear his name again. Everett Winslow. My ex-boyfriend. And my worst nightmare.

Everett Winslow was my first love. After graduating from Emerson University, I fell for him after months of relentless pursuit. At first, we were like any other couple in love—inseparable and utterly obsessed with each other. But slowly, I realized something was wrong. Everett had a pathological, suffocating need for control. After dating, he forbade me from talking to male friends or even casually speaking to other men. He needed me to account for every minute of my day, no matter where or with whom I was. At first, I thought it was his way of showing love. Even though it felt odd, I didn’t think much of it. One night, I worked late, and a male colleague offered me a ride home. When I exited the car, I tripped in my heels, and he reached out to steady me. Everett appeared out of nowhere and punched the man square in the face. “Who the hell gave you permission to touch my woman?” he snarled. He didn’t stop until I physically pulled him away, begging him to stop. That was the first time I saw him truly angry. His bloodshot eyes and twisted face reminded me of a wild animal protecting its territory. From that moment on, cracks began to form in our relationship. He insisted on driving me to and from work daily, demanding to know what I was doing and who I was with. If I went out with friends, he’d show up uninvited and drag me home if men were present. One time, I didn’t answer his calls during a meeting. He called me 70 or 80 times and even barged into my office to confirm I was there. His behavior drained me. The final straw came when he secretly deleted every male contact from my phone. It caused delays at work, and my boss reprimanded me. When I confronted him at home, he shrugged it off and told me to quit my job. “There are too many men at your office. I can’t trust it,” he said. Enraged, I couldn’t take it anymore and told him we were done. Everett lost it. He destroyed everything in our apartment, glass shards cutting my ankle in the chaos. Then he collapsed at my feet, sobbing and begging for forgiveness, swearing he couldn’t live without me. I caved and gave him another chance. But it only got worse. He started hiring people to follow me and tapped my phone. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I moved back to my parents’ house while he was out. It didn’t take long for him to show up. Standing in my living room, his face was dark as he said, “Baby, I can’t live without you. But if I die, I’m taking you with me.” Terrified, I returned to him. And that’s when the absolute nightmare began. He pretended to be me and quit my job. Then, he took away my phone. I was a prisoner in his estate, only allowed outside if he was with me. If I tried to leave, he’d destroy things in a rage. At night, he would pin me down, his strength overpowering my protests. He tied me up when I resisted and ignored my screams. During his worst moments, he would strangle me, his red eyes crazed. “You’re mine,” he’d whisper, “Only mine. No one else can have you.” I passed out more than once, the room spinning until I blacked out. Those months turned me into a ghost of myself. He kept me isolated, and any attempt to reach out to someone came with his threats. “If you tell anyone, I’ll destroy them,” he’d say. I knew he meant it. After three months of living like this, I cracked. One day, while walking outside, I broke free of his grasp and ran into oncoming traffic. I thought it would all end there. But Everett saved me. He ended up hospitalized, and his family finally learned what he’d done to me. To save face, the Winslow family sent him abroad for psychiatric treatment. I moved to a new city to start over. But the memories stayed with me, haunting my nights. Even now, I dream of him strangling me, his face twisted in rage. For a long time, I felt like someone was always watching me. Like the most minor wrong step would destroy me. I was scared. I was scared that Everett would come back for me. I avoided strangers and avoided relationships until I met Preston Ashford.

At the time, I had just started a new job. His company was on the same floor as mine. One evening, I was working late and hadn’t eaten. My old habit of low blood sugar caught up with me, and I fainted while waiting for the elevator. He was the one who found me, carried me to his office, and gave me food until I felt better. He even insisted on driving me home. To thank him, I invited him out for dinner. From then on, we started talking more often. He had this clear sense of boundaries—polite, careful, and gentlemanly. Around him, I felt at ease, free from the suffocating tension I used to know. We even shared eerily similar interests. We loved the same old movies, the same obscure songs, and even the same flavor of ice cream. After a year of his gentle persistence, my guard came down, and I let myself fall. Unlike Everett Winslow’s overpowering possessiveness, Preston was kind and understanding. He gave me space and freedom but always knew when to show care. Each day with him felt like a blessing. For the first time, I didn’t think about the nightmares of my past. I was so happy; I truly believed he was my soulmate—my salvation. Just the day before I overheard him, we’d been dreaming about the future, laughing as we debated whether to have one child or two. But all of it was a carefully woven lie. A dream spun for me to lower my guard so he could trap me at my most vulnerable. He had told me he returned to the States to advance his career. In truth, he came back to get revenge. Thinking back now, I realize Everett Winslow was undergoing treatment in Denver, Colorado, all this time. Not long ago, Preston had proposed to me in a grand gesture. He insisted on hosting a big engagement party, inviting all his friends from abroad to celebrate. I was overjoyed, thinking I had found someone I could share my life with. But it was just an elaborate performance. He couldn’t wait to humiliate me in front of everyone and settle the score for his best friend. From the very start, it had all been part of his plan. And I had given him my heart so foolishly. While I thought I was the happiest woman in the world, he had only calculation and deceit in his heart. My body trembled uncontrollably as nausea rose like a tidal wave. I ran to the bathroom and emptied my stomach, the bitterness twisting inside me. After the piercing pain subsided, a burning anger ignited within me. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, disheveled and pale. I’d play along if he wanted to put on a show. If he planned to leave me at the altar for his cruel finale… Then what if I left him first?

On Saturday, Preston invited me to a dinner party. He said an old friend had just returned from abroad, and everyone was gathering to catch up. I thought about it for a moment and agreed. When I walked into the private dining room, I noticed their curious, almost accusatory eyes scanned me. Everett had once told me he grew up abroad with many childhood friends still there. These were his old friends, now here to watch the spectacle unfold. I kept my composure, a polite smile gracing my lips, and navigated the evening gracefully. Their glances betrayed subtle hostility. I am still waiting to hear from someone. Preston, on the other hand, was as attentive as ever. He served me food, ladled soup into my bowl, and even peeled shrimp. He stayed close, ensuring I wasn’t left out of the conversation. After dinner, someone suggested heading to a bar, and I went along. Drinks flowed freely; they had started a game of truth or dare long before. When it was my turn, I lost. Travis Holt swirled his drink lazily, his gaze sharp as he asked, “What’s your opinion of your ex?”

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I am a demolition engineer. When the safety officer reported that someone might be in the hills and the blast should be delayed, I pressed the button anyway. Dozens were killed or injured, the site painted in blood and echoing with cries and wails. While my colleagues scrambled to rescue the victims, I calmly scrolled on my phone, telling them not to rush. In my previous life, after the disaster, my childhood friend accused me of negligence. My pregnant wife wept, calling me cruel and accusing me of premeditating it all. The furious villagers beat me to death. And my childhood friend married my wife, cashed in on the insurance payout, and lived a happy life. Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back to the moment when my childhood friend handed me the papers to sign right before the blast. …… Content “Carter, sign here. I’ve checked everything; it’s all good!” That familiar voice pulled me from my daze. I hesitated, staring at the pen and the stack of papers before me. “What’s the holdup, Hobbs? Don’t worry! I’ve double-checked everything. Everyone else has already signed—just waiting on you!” I turned to see the eager smile of Lucas Kendrick, a face I’d known for nearly thirty years. My childhood friend. My subordinate. In my past life, I’d never hesitated to sign whatever Lucas handed me. My signature on these papers had pushed me into an abyss I couldn’t climb. I signed and approved the demolition, and the blast killed dozens on the mountain. The furious families beat me to death. The memory of my previous life, of being battered until my body was unrecognizable, sent a shiver down my spine. This time, I picked up the papers and began reading them thoroughly. Every line of approvals, designs, blueprints, and explosive placements seemed flawless. But why did investigators in my last life conclude that these plans had a fatal flaw that caused the catastrophe? Seeing my hesitation, Lucas chuckled. “Come on, Carter. It’s just paperwork. We’re on a tight schedule here. Don’t tell me you’re considering revising the plan now—it’s been vetted already.” There were less than thirty minutes before the scheduled blast. If the demolition didn’t proceed on time, I’d face scrutiny, the company would suffer heavy financial losses, and I’d jeopardize this hard-fought project that could save us all. In my career, I’d overseen dozens of complex demolition projects. This one was supposed to be straightforward. But the “sure thing” had spiraled into a nightmare. Lucas pulled a bottle from his bag. “Fine, take your time. Meanwhile, I’ll open this up. This is a rare vintage, Carter—aged over a decade. You’ll owe me a toast after this!” As he turned to uncork the bottle, unease prickled in my gut. His casual demeanor almost assumed I’d sign without question. Could there be nothing wrong with these documents? Before I could decide, several colleagues entered the room. They saw me holding the papers and urged me to hurry. After my signature, these documents still required the company seal and additional processing. After combing through them, finding nothing out of place, I reluctantly signed. As Lucas took the papers, his smug expression made my heart skip a beat. Could he…? But the documents needed to be more spotless. I opened my mouth to call him back, but another colleague interrupted. “Carter, it’s time for the Ceremonial Toast.”

The Ceremonial Toast was a pre-demolition ritual we always observed. While some dismissed it as superstition, it had become ingrained in our team’s culture. Everyone would drink a small cup of liquor as part of the ceremony. In my past life, I only had one drink. Yet, the police later found excessive alcohol in my system and concluded that my intoxication contributed to the disaster. This time, I held the cup to my nose. It smelled like ordinary whiskey—a good bottle with a warm, inviting aroma. With my tolerance, one cup wouldn’t even leave me buzzed. But why had the tests only flagged me? Lucas’s expression tensed when I didn’t drink. Was there something wrong with this cup? “Carter, what’s the matter? Too fancy for you? I brought out the good stuff just for today!” Lucas teased. Everyone else turned to look at me in surprise. I’d never turned down a drink, not even the cheap moonshine the crew sometimes brought. “Carter, come on—it’s one drink. I won’t mess up a thing. With your tolerance, this won’t even scratch the surface.” “This whiskey’s smooth, rich, and warm. Just try it, and you’ll want the whole bottle!” Under their eager gazes, I raised the cup and downed it. But I wasn’t done yet. There was still time before the blast. I needed to be thorough. This time, I’d ensure every detail was checked. I instructed the observers to fly the drones over the site again, ensuring no one was in the blast zone. My mind raced, focused on finding the people who’d died in my past life. Back then, I’d died waiting for answers, never knowing where the fatal error had occurred. Not this time. I returned to the Operations Command Center, reviewing the feeds from every camera. As the countdown to the blast ticked closer, sweat beaded on my forehead. Suddenly, it hit me: Could the explosives themselves be tampered with? I rushed out of the command center, heading toward the blast site. Just as I reached the exit, Vivienne appeared, clutching her stomach. “Carter! It hurts! The baby—something’s wrong! You need to take me to the hospital!” I stared at her, my mind churning. Why was she doing this to me? She was six months pregnant; soon, we’d have a child together. How could she be willing to leave that child fatherless? When I didn’t react, Vivienne snapped, “Is your job more important than our child? I’m telling you—I need help! Take me to the hospital!” In my past life, she hadn’t been in any pain. She’d stood at the scene, scolding me. But now, her sudden distress seemed suspicious. Could Lucas have seen through my hesitation and enlisted her to distract me? Vivienne wasn’t supposed to be here. She’d insisted on accompanying me, claiming she wanted to see my work before the baby came. I’d broken protocol to bring her along, trusting her. But when did Lucas and Vivienne start working together? Their desperation to sideline me could only mean one thing: there was something they didn’t want me to find.

Vivienne clutched her belly, crying out in pain. Lucas Kendrick rushed in, his face a mask of concern. “Carter, you need to take Vivi to the hospital! I’ll handle things here. Don’t worry; I’ve got it covered. Just look at her—she’s as pale as a sheet!” Lucas and I had grown up together, always having each other’s backs. It was second nature for us to help each other in any situation. Usually, I’d have considered my wife and our unborn child my top priority. But this time, knowing what lay ahead, I wasn’t about to let my life slip away in confusion again. “Lucas,” I said, fixing him with a steady gaze, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this blast. I need to stay here and oversee it. Please take Vivi to the hospital. I trust you to look after her.” Vivienne’s cries faltered for a brief moment. Lucas also froze before stammering, “Me? Take her? Carter, it’s better if you go. What if something happens to her on the way? I can’t take that kind of responsibility.” Vivienne grabbed my shirt, sobbing hysterically. “Carter Hobbs! I can’t believe you’re this kind of man. What if something happens to our baby? Can you live with that?” I frowned. “I told you before—this site is dangerous. You insisted on coming. You said you wouldn’t blame me no matter what. So why the drama now? I’ll have an assistant take you to the hospital.” I had no time to argue. I had to uncover the problem before the blast. I called for an assistant to drive Vivienne, but she clung to my clothes, refusing to let me go. Frustrated, I pulled off my jacket, left her holding it, and walked out in my T-shirt. Behind me, Vivienne wailed loudly, and Lucas sighed theatrically. “Carter, man, I’m telling you, marriage is about patience. You’ve got to show her more understanding.” I shot him a cold glare. “Funny. You’re not married yet, but you seem to know about relationships and how to handle women.” The memory of their betrayal in my past life made my fists clench involuntarily. I wanted nothing more than to punch them, but I had no proof. The countdown to the blast was already underway. Reports from the site indicated everything was in order. My mind raced as I reviewed what could have caused the accident in my previous life. Where could the critical error have occurred? I walked to the nearest blast point and ordered the safety officer to retrieve the explosives for reinspection. The officer stared at me, bewildered. “We’ve got half an hour left, Carter,” he protested. “Removing the explosives and resetting them will take forever.” Lucas put on a puzzled face. “What’s going on, Carter? You’re acting strange today.” “Follow my orders,” I barked. Reluctantly, the safety officer complied and dug up the explosives. I inspected everything meticulously. The explosives were acceptable. The placement was flawless. I moved to another location and repeated the process. Still, nothing was wrong. By the time I finished, only ten minutes were left until the scheduled detonation. What the hell is going on? I broke out in a cold sweat when the observers reported all clear. The control room buzzed in, urging me to return for final preparations. Hoarsely, I replied, “I’m requesting a delay. I believe there’s a potential danger in proceeding with the blast.”

The room fell silent. Everyone stared at me in shock. Lucas grabbed my sleeve, leaning in to whisper, “Carter, what’s wrong? We’ve gone over everything multiple times. Nothing’s out of place. If you want to delay, you must give a reason.” I met his gaze with a cold stare. Lucas had been the first to accuse me in my past life, claiming that my design was flawed. He had testified that he’d spotted issues during construction but that I had ignored his warnings, leading to the deaths of so many people. Looking back, it was clear that he had orchestrated everything. All those lives—didn’t they haunt him in his dreams? The deputy chief engineer, Harrison Greer, cleared his throat. “Carter, did you find something during your inspection?” I couldn’t respond. What could I say? That in a past life, this seemingly routine demolition had turned catastrophic? But in this life, I had no evidence. A sharp pain twisted in my gut, and I clutched my stomach. Lucas hurried to my side, offering a bottle of antacid and a glass of water. “Stomach acting up again? Here, take this. Relax, Carter. We’ve handled far more complex projects than this one. It’s a walk in the park for us veterans.” I swallowed the medication, and the warm water eased the pain slightly. Harrison spoke again. “Carter, if you’ve identified a problem, I’ll back the delay. But without a concrete reason, I can’t approve it. The schedule is tight, and if we don’t detonate today, the weather forecast will prevent us from doing it for several more days.” Lucas chimed in, trying to smooth things over. “Carter’s been under a lot of stress. Probably just sleep-deprived, right?” The countdown continued. Three minutes left. The control room was silent, all eyes on me. With one minute remaining, my phone buzzed. It was a call from the project’s upper management. The stern voice on the other end demanded to know why the detonation hadn’t started. Under the pressure of his authority, I finally relented. “The blast will proceed as scheduled.” My eyes scanned the faces of my colleagues in the control room—men and women I had trusted in my previous life. Who else among them had been part of my betrayal? When the clock hit zero, I issued the command to detonate. My finger hovered briefly over the button before pressing it. As the blast rang out in waves, I caught a flicker of satisfaction on Lucas’s face. The observers began reporting in. “Point 1, successful detonation. All clear.” “Point 2, successful detonation. All clear.” With each confirmation, my tension mounted. My heart felt like it was about to burst. Finally, after Point 6’s report, the radio fell silent. Point 7 hadn’t checked in. My gut sank. Something had gone wrong.

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